Larry Bekins has problems, but maybe he can cook up a way to have things better.
Now available on Kindle through Snowfall's Amazon page:
Young Kyle struggles to make it through the school day without being noticed, but others intend to make him the center of attention. A beautiful coming of age story with a difference. Now available to borrow from Kindle Select for Kindle Prime members.
|
At anytime over a million trucks are professionally driven on the highways and by-ways of America. Carrying everything from acid to yachts. Not all loads are so innocuous. Some are precious and some are out-right lethal. For loads that are deemed dangerous or valuable to be referred to as High-Security, special trucks are used. Trucks that look so normal, one would never guess it from any other. Trucks that run in secret, apart from their company, called Ghost Fleets. Others have no markings at all, and are specially modified. One such company that specializes in High-Security Loads; Phantom Lines.... |
The SWAT commander shook his head. "No Sir. It ain't happening."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT AIN'T HAPPENING?" The District Attorney demanded.
The Captain pointed at the building in the distance. "Because your grandstand play backfired."
The D.A. swore at him. "What the FUCK does that mean Johnson?"
"It means they set off one of the canisters. The whole ground floor of that place is contaminated with the virus, Stupid. I got a couple guys that are ex-military, but they aren't trained to actually go into contamination." Captain Johnson explained. "We gotta call the Feds, Counselor Travis."
Bob Travis shook his head. "No! The Feds come in and its all over! They'll take the whole case and we get NOTHING!"
"You're more than welcome to go right in there and tell those fucks to surrender. Go ahead. Be my guest. I'm calling the Attorney General." Drake Johnson said then turned away pulling out his phone.
Thirty minutes later Haz-Mat trucks began to roll in. Twenty minutes after that three buses marked with the FBI pulled up. An assault team mustered in front of one. Quickly they poured over building diagrams and all other information.
Bob Travis looked around angrily then asked the FBI Agent in charge. "S.A.C. Waggener I thought you Bureau people were quick to strike. What's the hold up?"
The Bureau man looked over with a bored expression. "We're waiting for transport. There they are."
A tractor-trailer pulled up and came to a stop. It was a big black WesternStar. The driver climbed down, wearing a sweeping black duster and black Stetson.
"S.A.C. Waggener?" The driver called out.
Chris Waggener waved to him as he approached. "That's me."
"PeaceMaker. Have your assault team load up in my truck. I'll take 'em in." Colt said.
The assault team leader was standing close and called out to the team. They formed two columns at the back of the trailer.
Colt reached up into the truck and the seals of the trailer doors were released. He went back and swung them open. Inside there was a row of seats on each wall.
"Listen up. Take a seat and strap in. Do NOT unstrap and try to stand up until the green light comes on. The truck may need to move more and the doors will not open. When the GREEN light comes on just push and the doors will open. Get ready." Colt instructed then closed the doors.
"PeaceMaker. I'm going in too." Waggener stated.
Colt looked over the besuited Fed then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Up front with me."
Waggener nodded and followed him along the passenger side and climbed up into the cab when the door was opened. Colt closed it then walked around to the driver's side and climbed up. The door was closed and series of switches were flipped. He took off his hat and set it into a vertical holder behind him. The engine had been running the whole time so there was no need to start the truck. More switches were flipped and Waggener heard seals around the door. The interior then felt like it became pressurized. PeaceMaker grabbed a mic and keyed it twice then hung it back on the clip.
"Are we ready?" Waggener asked.
Colt nodded. "Yeah."
The truck didn't move. The Fed looked over at the driver then ahead and back.
Again he asked. "Are we ready?"
"Yeah." Colt answered.
The Bureau man asked. "What are we waiting for PeaceMaker?"
Colt was obviously watching in the side-mirror. "The other truck. We're going to follow it in. It can do something we can't."
The radio inside registered two clicks. Someone had keyed their mic twice.
"Here we go. We'll jump in behind Trip9." Colt said then released the brakes.
Everyone stood clear as he pulled the cord for the horn twice and began to roll forward. By the time he took fourth gear another truck had come into view. Like a ghost, the big grey behemoth leapt from the evening gloom with barely any lights on. It's horn sounded once as it roared past. Everyone could see black smoke pouring out in staggered streams. Those familiar with large trucks could tell the driver was up-shifting. Gaining speed. The big black truck fell in behind the grey, but the gap between the two wasn't narrowing.
Colt grabbed his mic. "DeathStar with a load of StormTroopers, right on your backdoor. Crash the gate and get us in Trip9."
The trailer's tail lights flickered twice and the gap between them began to widen more. Waggener looked over and saw the display. The speedometer read eighty-five miles per hour and increasing.
"WE'RE GOING EIGHTY-FIVE ALREADY?" Waggener asked.
Colt grabbed another gear. "Nope. We're closing on a buck. Pretty easy without a load."
Waggener stared ahead at the truck in front of them, practically walking away from them. "How fast is that truck going?"
"Can't tell you. That's 32 tons of Don't-Give-a-Fuck. Here we go." Colt said then grabbed a separate mic. "Hang on to your asses boys, we're making contact."
Ahead the big grey truck smashed through the gates and launched them to the sides. Two seconds later all its forward lights came on. The long-range spotters watched in confusion as the truck didn't aim for the service doors, instead it went through a section of wall under a window that had been floodlit by the bright lights of the lead truck.
One of the cops had been using the Radar/Laser gun from his squad car. "WHAT THE HELL?"
The SWAT Commander looked over. "What's the problem officer?"
"Captain I can't tell how fast either one of those two trucks are going. There's no return!" The officer stated.
'They must be coated with absorbing paint.' The SWAT Commander thought to himself but didn't say anything. He had once heard of a trucker called PeaceMaker years ago. He had also heard from some guys at a convention not long ago that there was some outfit of truckers. Trucks that mostly ran at night, sometimes at high-speed. Trucks with no markings and special license plates that came with a warning. The loads they carried were unknown, but there was plenty of speculation. They watched as the second truck punched through the same hole and slid to a stop inside. A minute later, shots could be heard inside and the grey truck had turned around inside to block the hole it had created, by parking halfway out of it. The bright lights dimmed.
Ten minutes later the call came over the radio. "Send in the Haz-Mat teams for De-Con!"
Six fire engine style trucks rolled down to the warehouse. They set up a series of pipes with a plastic liner underneath. Four men set up tall ladders and climbed to the top with spray hoses. Another group set up a series of plastic tent-like chambers in line. The first truck pulled out. When it was in position, water jets began spray it down then a solution was sprayed onto it and a foam developed. The foam was sprayed off from the top down slowly. Once clean the truck was waved forward and the other took its place and cleaned. The other Haz-Mat teams went into the building and were neutralizing the interior.
The two trucks rolled back down to the staging area and stopped.
"That was SOME ride!" Waggener said unbuckling the seatbelt.
Colt nodded and depressurized the cab. "Yeah. Ride's over now. We gotta go."
The Fed was about to say something but the driver turned on the radio and a song began to blare. The main line of it was 'Chicken Lights and Chrome'. He shook his head and climbed out then shut the door chuckling. The grey truck began to roll forward and the black one followed.
"Just who the hell were those guys? I heard the radar gun couldn't get a reading. THAT'S illegal! Those trucks need to be impounded!" A.D.A. Bob Travis spat.
S.A.C. Waggener looked over. "What trucks?"
The Assistant District Attorney pointed in the direction they had went in. "THOSE TRUCKS!"
"No idea what you're talking about. I didn't see any trucks." Waggener replied and went back over to the briefing area.
Jason zipped up his coveralls and snugged the cap, both were brand new and clean.
"Ready Kid?" A voice asked from the door.
Jason turned around and saw an older man in similar coveralls. "Are you Mister Kleco?"
"That's right. Dane Kleco, I'm the shop Foreman. Follow me." The gruff man said then waved him to follow.
Jason rushed to catch up and was a step behind him going down the hall.
"Just finished the advanced course at Detroit I heard." Dane remarked.
Jason nodded. "Yes Sir. PACCAR before that. I spent time in the R and D groups for Kenworth and Peterbilt. Mister Montaine said all the trucks run PACCAR, Detroit or CAT engines with Eaton Fuller transmissions. Uh."
Jason's eyes locked onto the pretty blonde woman ahead of them talking to a man in all black.
"Put your eyes back in your head. That's Lacey, the dispatcher. More importantly, she's Troy's niece." Dane growled.
"Uh, yes Sir. Who is she talking to?" Jason asked to change the subject.
Dane pointed with the clipboard he was carrying. "PeaceMaker. Truck 000045."
"Dane." PeaceMaker nodded. "New Mechanic?"
Jason answered quickly. "Yes Sir. Jason Coruthers."
PeaceMaker extended his gloved hand. "Colt Denton, PeaceMaker."
Jason felt the firm grip and held it. "Nice to meet you. What do you want me to call you?"
"PeaceMaker. You'll do fine." Colt said the released him.
"Jason Coruthers, Miss?" Jason asked Lacey offering a handshake.
Lacey looked at him as if he just appeared that second then answered flatly. "Branson."
Jason wasn't sure what to think, she'd only answered with her last name and ignored his hand then ignored him. He shook off the awkward moment and resumed following Dane down the hall.
"These are the drivers' offices. Don't go in without a reason." Dane gestured to the doors along the hall then pointed to another hallway. "Down there is Dispatch, where Lacey works. All business in there. She won't socialize, period."
"Yes Sir." Jason replied.
Finally they walked through a door into a shop bay.
"Bay 1. Truck 000038." Dane announced then pointed to a man in jeans and a t-shirt talking to another in coveralls. "That's Hobby and Dominic."
Both men waved.
"Hey new dude. I'm Dominic." The mechanic greeted. "The Frodo-looking fucker is Hobby."
"I DON'T look like that! Asshole." The driver snarled then shook hands with Jason. "Elijah Jameson."
Jason shook hands. "Jason Coruthers. Elijah? I guess Hobby is for Hobbit then?"
"It stuck." Hobby shrugged. "See ya."
Dane led through another door into the next bay. "Bay 2. Truck 000039. The guy over there HASSLING my mechanic is Dell Seavers. Stuntman, and he's about to get punched by Kadee."
Both had turned to wave and Dell called out. "What's your name, Guy?"
"Jason Coruthers." Jason answered and both waved again.
In the next bay Dane pointed out. "Bay 3, truck 000040. MiLo, the one on the right, is the driver. Under the truck, is Turk. Don't EVER call him anything but that."
Neither were paying attention to them so they went on.
"Bay 4, 000041. Where are they?" Dane asked then called out. "HEY!"
A woman leaned out of the cab. "WHAT?"
Dane pointed to her. "Rhonda Veerens, ARVEE. Danny's around here somewhere. ARVEE, WHERE'S DANNY?"
"Bleeding off blinker fluid. Who's that?" Rhonda asked.
Jason answered. "Jason Coruthers. New wrench."
She waved. "Cool."
Dane led him into the next bay. " Bay 5, 000042."
A tall African/American man was practically right in front of them. "Heard through the door. New hand, Jason Coruthers."
"Yes sir. Nice to meet you." Jason took the offered handshake.
He nodded back. "I'm Keeyo, Allan Quionnes. HEY ELLIE! MEET THE NEW MECHANIC!"
All Jason could see was the back of someone who was leaning into the raised hood of the dark purple Freightliner.
They waved and a woman's voice called out. "HI NEW MECHANIC!"
Keeyo groaned then yelled back. "HIS NAME'S JASON."
"HI JASON!" She echoed.
Keeyo shrugged. "She's working on two things; my truck and being a comedienne. I sure hope my truck works."
"I HEARD THAT!" Ellie yelled.
"We better go before she throws a wrench at him." Dane commented and led them to the next bay.
Jason walked through the door. Inside the bay was a red Peterbilt. A mechanic was talking to a man wearing dark red jeans and shirt with shoulder length black hair and eyes so dark, they too, were almost black. The look he gave them was intense.
"Bay 6, 000043. That's Faust." Dane said.
Jason felt like backing up as the man regarded him then said in a voice that was half growl, half purr. "Welcome."
"Yeah. Nice to meet you." Jason said uneasily.
The mechanic turned and offered his hand. "How you doing? I'm Montgomery, just call me Monkey."
"Jason." Jason replied and shook hands.
When Dane led on, Jason felt like he couldn't get out of there fast enough.
"Faust takes some getting used to." Dane sighed after they went into the next bay.
Jason asked. "Some?"
Dane finally chuckled. "Ok, he takes ALOT of getting used to. He's a cool guy though."
"Right." Jason said flatly.
"Bay 7, 000044. This is Fly-by's truck. You'll meet him some other time." Dane said of the white Kenworth.
Jason asked. "He just got off a load?"
Dane shook his head. "He's at a race. He races trucks. Fly-by'll be back in a couple of days."
"Oh." Jason said. "That's cool. Hope he wins."
"Second in points this year." Dane informed him then led to the next bay.
Inside Dane announced. "Bay 8, 000045. This is PeaceMaker's truck. I work on it."
Jason nodded and followed to the next. "Ok."
Dane gestured to the empty bay. "Bay 9, 000046. Charlene Forest, Check-point Charlie. She's on her way back from a load. You can meet her tomorrow."
Jason followed to the next. "That's cool."
"Bay 10, 000047." Dane said pointing to a blue Peterbilt.
Two men came over. The one in coveralls introduced himself first.
"Hey. I'm Danny. I work on ARVEE's truck and SuJa's." The mechanic greeted him.
The driver nodded. "I'm SuJa, Mike Tanner. 'S up?"
"Jason." Jason greeted both accepting their handshakes. "So what's SuJa mean."
Danny smiled. "Suicide Jockey."
When Jason looked for confirmation Suja shrugged. "Its a living."
"SuJa carries just about everything that goes boom. Always has." Dane informed him the steered him to the door. "Hang around him, and you're outlook will get skewed."
"That hurts." SuJa mocked.
The last door had to be unlocked and the lights inside turned on. There sat a grey Kenworth with black trim, instead of chrome like the others.
"Bay 11, 000999. This is the reason why you're here. Trip-9's truck." Dane said.
Jason guessed. "Trip-9 because the truck number is 999?"
"Yep. Pay attention. Trip-9's name is Jodi Tybeck. Don't EVER get on her bad side. She's got a temper and three things will set her off. Talking shit about the Army, especially the war. She was in it. Second, making a pass at her. Third, I'll warn you now; Trip-9 is transgender. Talk shit about that and its your funeral. She won't play. Got it?" Dane asked.
"I'm open-minded." Jason assured him.
Dane sighed. "You better be. Finding somebody that can work on THIS truck ain't easy. If Arnie hadn't had a stroke, he'd still be here. You work on Trip-9 and Fly-by's trucks."
Dane showed Jason a clipboard and went over it. Basically complete maintenance needed to be performed on the engine. After being shown how to unlock the hood Jason's eyes went wide.
"Is this what I think it is?" Jason asked.
"Yep. That's one of three prototypes. The XM-18 PACCAR. The fastest engine in a truck." Dane Kleco stated. "The reason you're here."
Jason looked around more and saw this was no ordinary truck. It was reinforced for the front end to be a battering ram. Blocks of armor-plating lined the hood and firewall. From what he could see, the whole tractor could be dropped off a cliff and not only survive, it would drive away.
Dane Kleco was over at the door and called back. "You got three days. Make 'em count."
Jason looked then began to pull tools. In ten minutes he had the hood removed and was already working on pulling the engine.
On the catwalk above the bays, a brunette woman stood alone looking down into the bay. Casually she ate. An older man with a cane walked up.
"You could have gone somewhere for real food." The man stated.
She didn't look away as she dug her fork into the macaroni and cheese MRE. "These are real Troy."
"Arnie didn't make it." Troy Montaine sighed. "They were letting him go home. Just as he stood up from the wheelchair to get in the car, he had a heart attack. I'm sorry Jodi. He's gone."
Jodi Tybeck continued to eat, but replied. "Brenda called me. Is my truck going to be ready Monday?"
Troy put his hand on her shoulder. "Its ok to be sad Jodi. He liked you. I know you liked him."
"Is that a 'no'?" Jodi asked then tucked the empty packet into the pouch and pulled another.
Troy watched as she tore open the packet and squeezed up what looked like some type of cake and bit into it. He also saw the slight shaking of her hands, flexing in place but not transferring it to what was in her fingers.
"You can cry. Its allowed you know." Troy said then saw she already had the 'thousand-yard stare' again. "The funeral's next weekend, on Saturday. Brenda wants you there."
Jodi said nothing, but continued to eat.
Troy sighed. "I'll be there. It'd be good if you were too."
As he walked away, her right hand absently went to the necklace. Suspended from the chain were three 7.62 slugs. Underneath the t-shirt were three circular scars along with one long straight one. One by one she felt the slugs. Each one, meant to end her life, had been pulled from her chest in a hospital in Kuwait. The previous life, back when she was in the Army. And male.
The Army had tried to discharge him for that, along with issuing a Purple Heart. Instead he refused both and demanded to return to duty. The hesitant and soft-spoken Specialist now spoke with a cold detachment and firmness. A month later, returned to Iraq and duty. The change was not immediately noticed. After two runs, they became aware. The Specialist that had once been cautious now drove with resolve. Also with anger. He was unafraid to take the lead position of the column. Even stating the position was his. He also laid claim to the most dangerous loads.
It was the ambush the revealed the truth. As the column started slowing down, preparing to fight their way through or retreat, he up-shifted and began to gain speed. Two trucks with Iraqi soldiers and medium machine guns came into view, to block the road and open fire. Black smoke poured from the stack and the engine roared as the truck barreled forward to slam through the roadblock without slowing down. The enemy soldiers were either killed or seriously injured enough to be unable to fight.
After the run was complete the Unit Commander ripped into the soldier, who stared back and said coldly 'nobody gets in my way. Nothing stops my truck. Ever.' Not long after came the Thunder Runs. Those were highly publicized. Unknown to the general public though were a similar set of supply runs to endangered units called Operation Bootlegger. A volunteer was asked for. He was the only one. For nine days straight he ran in and out of a section of Baghdad that became known as Damnation Alley.
Iraqi soldiers and insurgents used buildings to rain machine-gun fire down on the truck in hopes to stop or destroy it. Neither worked and after the third attempt he simply aimed for the building with most fire coming from it, and drove through it, dropping a satchel bomb with a ten-second fuse and twenty pounds of explosive. That's when they started calling Jodi, Road-Rage. Not that he cared, all that mattered was the next load. Where it needed to go and when it needed to be there. He even modified the front of the truck to withstand the abuse of driving through roadblocks and then buildings too. In fact, driving through buildings and dropping off a satchel bomb became a signature tactic.
The Iraqis issued a nickname as well; Dead-Run. They didn't know his real name, but the truck was beyond easy to identify and soon had a bounty on it. Many tried collecting that bounty, only to have their mangled bodies be left behind in the dust and rubble. The innocent civilians also grew to know the truck and reacted accordingly. They ran away. Warnings of the truck's approach were fast and entire blocks of civilians would empty in response. Despite the arguments of several low-ranking officers, the Specialist was eventually promoted to Sergeant. Even over the advice of a psychologist, stating the Sergeant was obviously suicidal, he was allowed to remain in the field. Simply put, no other driver could or would achieve the same results.
A year later; Jodi was sent back to the States, to be discharged. E.T.S.- Expiration of Term of Service. Honorable discharge. Purple Heart refused, no other citation recommended. Jodi was barely in the door of his parents' house when the phone rang. A man claiming to be with the Department of Energy asked Jodi to come to Washington, D.C. immediately. Jodi didn't even unpack, simply turned around, went out the door and didn't return for two years. He drove for D.O.E. the whole time, hauling all manner of classified material. ALL radioactive. That came to an end when some rednecks decided it would be fun to try annoying a truck driver.
Common sense dictates that when dealing with 38 tons of truck marked Radioactive, hauling weapons' grade Plutonium, one should stay very far away. Unfortunately, that's not the way things happened. The pick-up sped ahead to get in front then slowed down. When Jodi moved to pass, they drifted over to block. Twice Jodi moved to pass as they slowed even more. Believing they were trying to stop the truck to hijack the load, Jodi fell back on training after hitting the alert button. He up-shifted and pushed the truck. It sped up to recover then tried to slow him again by blocking the pass. Jodi was having none of it and shoved the truck forward. The driver slammed his brakes, but the light truck was no match for the big tractor-trailer and was pushed forward.
Jodi continued to pick up speed. The Chevy locked up its brakes, tires screeched and smoked in protest until they burst. The truck slung sideways then turned over several times before being thrown off to the side. It took a week for Jodi to be identified. Once again, luck was not on the rednecks' side. It was standard for such a truck to be equipped with cameras. Cameras that revealed the antics of the civilians. Also the digital log of distress being announced and Jodi's narration from inside the cab. The civilians lost their lawsuit, but Jodi didn't win either. A known D.O.E. driver was no good. Jodi was let go, as per contract. Paid, but still let go.
That was when Troy Montaine came calling. Phantom Lines, a small independent trucking company that hauled high security loads for various government agencies, was looking for a driver. Jodi had a surprise of his own. Or rather, her own. During evaluation, some questions turned out to have answers not expected. Answers that would be given by a woman. More evaluations revealed the reason, Jodi wasn't just dealing with combat stress. Gender Dysphoria had been lurking underneath the surface, now trying to break through. Troy Montaine was by no means a conventional man. He stated bluntly that he didn't care whether male, female or anywhere in-between. He had loads to move and required drivers with no fear. To quote him; he needed drivers skilled enough to drive through Hell and brave, or crazy, enough to do it with an ice cream truck.
Jodi fit that criteria and then some. Or so she thought. Then she met the other drivers. They ran the gamut, from angry to delusional and various other things. She was the only one with a gender issue. Though well paid by D.O.E. enough to not have to work for two years while transitioning, Phantom Lines offered a pay and benefits package that only the stupid would refuse. By choice, Jodi hauled loads that were deemed suicide runs. Two others ran similar runs. SuJa, which stood for Suicide Jockey, and Faust.
Faust drove the big red Peterbilt. So named because of all the drivers, he had the most attempted hijackings before coming to Phantom Lines. Attempted, but never successful. For some reason none of the hijackers ever survived and several trucks had been destroyed. Each and every time, Faust walked away without a mark on him. Many now said he had the Devil's luck and nobody could remember what he had been called before. In fact, he wouldn't answer to any other name and was rumored to have changed it to that. Even Troy had never called him by any name but Faust.
Michael Tanner, SuJa, had started out carrying explosives for mining companies. He was so good at it, he ended up moving up to working for manufacturers. Finally he left after topping out their pay scale. Troy Montaine had found him easily enough and two days later had him in a truck.
Only one ego stood above the rest. Dell Seavers, Stuntman. He actually had been one. Which was to be expected. His father had been a stuntman and his mother a costumer. They had met on the set of the TV crime show Chase. Dell grew up in Hollywood and when old enough, became a stuntman while still a child. He did that until his mid-twenties until an injury, not stunt related, prevented him from being insured to continue. Unhappy with being in Hollywood not able to perform, Dell started driving trucks and found new excitement. He began hauling high security loads. Eventually Troy Montaine appeared, offering the highest risk loads he'd ever hauled, with a pay-rate too good to pass up.
Elijah Jameson, Hobby, was brought in and seemed to be the most straight-laced of all. He wasn't. A power-lifter that almost made it to the professional ranks, he had a manner that was strange. He was so good-natured it was annoying. Until he got into a gym. That's when his demon took over. It wasn't people that had to worry, it was the equipment. He routinely broke things trying to go heavier or longer. In fact, he could no longer have a membership at any in two states or any of the national chain gyms. Hobby was short and built like a rhino.
Rhonda Vereen came from one of the national carriers and with her was a BIG chip on her shoulder. She had been on the receiving end of a stalker that was an owner-operator leased to the company. She was a regional driver until he began stalking her so she went back to cross-country. Where she went, so did he. The final straw came when he managed to get into her truck while she was in a truckstop taking a shower. She came back and he attacked, but didn't know she had grown up rather scrappy and could fight. In retaliation he called the police and alleged she was soliciting. It took two weeks, but the truth came out. However, the damage was done. Her stalker had contacted enough carriers with false stories, nobody would let her in. Troy checked out her story and offered her a job. ARVEE had stayed on ever since.
Fly-by was recruited due to his skill at high-speed driving. Brendan Williams was racing trucks on the amateur circuit and rumor had it he was about to go pro. Six months after Troy Montaine offered him a contract, a team signed him as well. Fly-by didn't care what he carried, just as long as he could go fast doing it. Getting paid for it eliminated any argument for him.
Allan Quionnes was bi-racial and caught crap from both sides. Due to discrimination he had caught loads for an independent that had high risk. Mostly toxic waste. Finally he caught a break on a load that was compromised. He called the authorities and soon a can of worms was opened that would never close. Fortunately for him, there was no real record of who actually tipped off the authorities so he was able to deny involvement. Troy had heard and admired his integrity. He hired him on a hand-shake, but gave him a contract with better terms just for trusting him for a week to prove it. Kee-yo had stayed on with no complaints.
Check-point Charlie's real name was Charlene Forrest. She had enlisted in the Marines right out of high school and stayed until the fighting in Afghanistan calmed down. She still craved action and applied to all the carriers looking for a challenge. None took her seriously enough for her. Troy heard of her through an acquaintance. An acquaintance that had no problem mentioning her name for a few hundred dollars. The Marine had no problem picking up Troy's challenge and signed on the line.
Mike Conlow had driven the Ice Roads until he lost his truck in a lake. Unfortunately for him, his insurer refused to pay the cost of a replacement, citing that it had been intentional. Troy heard of it several months afterward and offered him a job. MiLo jumped at the chance and liked it so much, he stayed on, even though he had already made enough to replace his truck several times over.
And then there was PeaceMaker. Colt Denton. Colt had started out working for the state of Arizona's Attorney General hauling evidence for destruction. The Department of Justice heard of him and hired him away with a better offer. Colt worked for them for years hauling loads until things started getting hairy. He was hauling a load of narcotics and his route and truck description was leaked. The cartel tried to hijack it. The only survivor just happened to be one who had no idea who leaked the information. Colt quit in disgust. Troy showed up a month later with a contract in hand and list of references to back him up.
Colt checked him out with every source he had and was astounded by the replies. If somebody had a load that needed to go by ground without fail, Montaine was the man to call. No matter how dangerous, it would get there on time or no longer exist. Nor would any fool that tried to take it either. No Phantom Lines truck had ever been successfully hijacked. Delivery or death, no exceptions. Montaine was the best on the road and he charged for it. His record had garnered him special favors as well. Each truck had a license plate that came with a warning. Do Not Detain. Three of the trucks carried an even more severe warning. Do Not Approach. PeaceMaker and Faust had been with Phantom the longest, the first to have those plates.
When Jodi signed on and Trip-9 went on the road, it had the other plate. They carried the highest security loads. She carried the deadliest. Every load she carried was lethal. Truck number 000999, Trip-9. Solid grey with black carbon fiber trim and anodized stacks, it tended to vanish on the road. The truck nobody in their right mind wanted to get on the wrong side of.
Jodi finished her meal and crumpled the pouch in her fist. She did not like new people. This time though, she had no choice. This new mechanic was one of a few that had the knowledge to work on the prototype engine of Trip-9. As good as Troy Montaine was, he couldn't always get the person he wanted. Jodi knew it had been sheer luck that this new guy, Jason, had been free and willing to relocate. Troy's offer had included a two year lease on a townhouse.
"What do you want Faust?" Jodi said without looking over.
The driver said gently. "Troy told me. You have my sympathy."
"Right." Jodi commented.
Faust leaned against the rail. "Arnie was here before me. Before Colt. He was a good man. I'll offer a deal. If you wish, I'll take you to the funeral."
Jodi didn't look over. "What's my end?"
"That is your end. For mine, I'll leave them at home." Faust replied. "Their presence would be less than appropriate."
Jodi snorted. "Frick and Frack will pout."
Faust smirked at the reference to his girlfriends. Many were surprised to see him dating 23 year old identical twins. He amazed people with his ability to tell them apart. Jodi was able to do so as well, but regarded them dismissively. Faust jokingly referred to them as his Sins, Envy and Lust. He also joked about finding them on the side of the road. The truth was that they had grown up across the street from him when they were children and he had always been the object of their attraction. They had made it their mission in life early on to claim him for their own. However neither would relent to the other, therefore they both dated him.
Faust chuckled. "They'll see things my way."
Jodi turned and headed back toward the other end. "I can take care of myself."
"Trip." Faust called, stopping her. "He seems like a good and capable young man. Give him a chance."
Jodi had turned to listen, now turned back and continued on. She wanted to be somewhere other than there right now. Making friends was hard. Losing one, was devastating. What she wanted most, was to be out there. Her feelings were her own, out there. Where nobody could see or hear her. There were no friends on the road. Dane had told her the truck would not be ready until Monday. Troy had given her off until then, though she had come in anyway.
Monday morning Lacey walked into the lounge. "Good morning."
All the drivers returned the greeting.
"Nice outfit." Jodi commented.
Lacey glanced to the baby-doll top, Cruel Girl jeans and western boots then frowned. "Really, or you think I wanted to hear that?"
Jodi shrugged.
Faust had come in during the statement and leaned over Lacey's shoulder to say seductively. "You do look nice Lacey. Fetching, I'd say."
Lacey elbowed him in the gut. "Get thee away from me, whack-job."
Faust chuckled and went over to the coffee pot. "One day you will learn how to accept a compliment with grace Lacey. Care to discuss an exchange?"
"NO. I'll never be stupid enough to make a deal with you." Lacey glared then looked over to Jodi. "Trip, are you up? Dane says you're road-ready."
Jodi nodded. "Gimme somethin'."
Lacey started handing out envelopes. "Trip. MiLo. SuJa. Faust. PeaceMaker. ARVEE you have one coming in a couple of hours, so stand-by."
"Nothing for me?" Dell asked in surprise.
Lacey tapped her clipboard. "Its not final so I didn't want to get your hopes up. Since you asked though, I might have a double-up. Stuntman and Kee-yo, you might be rolling out tonight. Fly-by, congrats on the win, but you're staying put. Uncle Troy needs you for something. Check-Point Charlie, your truck is down. Two days. Hobby's on idle. Hit the Hard-ball."
Those that had loads made their way out. Lacey held Jodi back and closed the door.
"Trip. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear or what you think you're supposed to say. Mean it, or don't bother. Got it?" Lacey asked.
Jodi nodded. "Ok."
Lacey sighed. "I don't mean to jump all over you. Just say what you mean. If you like something, say so. Don't force sociable. Just relax and let things be. Ok?"
"Ok. Shrink said I needed to try engaging more." Jodi said.
Lacey nodded. "That's fine. Just be real about it. You can be real. That's all I wanted to say."
Jodi left the lounge. She stopped in her office and put on the gun belt. A quick check of ammo then grabbed the Barrett REC-7 rifle. Now she was ready.
Jason stood back and watched her walk around the truck then climb up. "You're all set."
"Fans." Jodi called out.
Jason switched on the fans. They would pull out the smoke of the truck. The big grey Kenworth roared to life and after a minute began to slowly back up. The tractor hooked to the trailer with a loud bang and snap. The connection was tested then Jodi got back out and walked around. Air lines and electrical were connected. She climbed back into the cab. Air lines pressured up and slowly the truck rolled forward and stopped hard.
Jodi looked down to the mechanic who gave her a thumbs-up then stood by button to open the door. She tore open the envelope and shuffled the sheets. A minute later she latched the five point harness, returned the thumbs-up then slammed her door shut. Jason opened the door. Trip-9 gunned twice then leaped forward, up-shifting to gain speed. Faust, in the red Peterbilt rolled out a moment later, followed by PeaceMaker's black WesternStar, Suja's blue Peterbilt and MiLo's light grey WesternStar. The Road Phantoms were taking the highways again.
At anytime over a million trucks are professionally driven on the highways and by-ways of America. Carrying everything from acid to yachts. Not all loads are so innocuous. Some are precious and some are out-right lethal. For loads that are deemed dangerous or valuable to be referred to as High-Security, special trucks are used. Trucks that look so normal, one would never guess it from any other. Trucks that run in secret, apart from their company, called Ghost Fleets. Others have no markings at all, and are specially modified. One such company that specializes in High-Security Loads; Phantom Lines.... |
Anyone that stood along the roadside, would swear they felt the ground shake. Five 18-wheelers roaring onto the highway from the side road. As it opened up into multiple lanes then merged to the interstate, the trucks began to jockey for position.
"Well. We're out of here. Let's have some tunes." MiLo called out over the secure radio.
Faust chuckled. "I have one that's perfect. Open Channel."
All five drivers switched over to the Channel and Faust set to transmit then brought up the song. A moment later, the opening riff of Take Me Down by The Pretty Reckless began to play. Back at the terminal for Phantom Lines, Lacey patched the channel through to speakers in the bays. It wasn't often so many trucks left at once, so the drivers liked to make an event of it. She found it funny. But there was no denying Taylor Momsen had the seductress part down.
PeaceMaker had switched lanes and started to pull ahead. MiLo grabbed another gear to come around him.
"You gonna spur that hawse?" MiLo challenged.
SuJa called back, laughing. "LET 'ER BUCK!"
The big red Peterbilt shifted over to an outside lane and Faust laughed. "First one to the cloverleaf? What's the deal?"
"Aw, HELL NO!" SuJa up-shifted.
PeaceMaker had glanced in his mirror then exclaimed over his mic. "Look out! IT'S TRIP!"
The grey Kenworth had dropped back, but now was bearing down on them. Black smoke streamed out of the twin 6 inch stacks as it closed on the line of trucks driving abreast with one lane empty between them. That lane now being consumed by Trip-9.
"Better grab another gear and drop the hammer. You're all racing for second." Trip-9 said flatly and roared past them.
Faust stomped his accelerator down, pulled out of gear, let off the pedal, slipped it into the next gear and put the pedal down again. "Its on, girl."
The others were 'floating' their gears as well, shifting without using the clutch. The gears of big trucks were not synchronized, that was how they were able to do so. The technique required a feel for the truck. Literally. The engine sound was the most common gauge, but an experienced driver could feel through the steering wheel and floorboards when the gears needed to be changed. It became a little tricky if a driver had the engine retarder on, otherwise known as Jake-Brakes. It used the engine's compression against itself to slow down a truck. Using that device was what caused the throaty, growling and sometimes crackling sound associated with trucks. The larger the stack, the louder the sound. Any liquid that found its way down the stack, made the crackle or popping sound.
Jodi took note of his position in the mirror and up-shifted again. One behind the other, they hit the cloverleaf at high speed and took the long curving ramp to go East, followed by SuJa. PeaceMaker took the Northbound ramp. Only MiLo went West. As the song faded out, Lacey turned off the patch to the bays. She sipped her diet soda and updated information. No routes would be changed.
Chuck Wheldon stood on the loading dock as a blue Peterbilt slowly backed up. Its doors had been opened by the driver before backing the last twenty feet to the dock to gently bump the edge. The driver climbed down and strode over to the steps and met him.
"Chuck Wheldon?" MiLo asked. "I'm SuJa. Here to pick up load number 47261-52."
Chuck nodded. The driver fit the description, as did the truck. The papers on his clipboard were authentic as well. He waved to the waiting men. "It's him. Load it."
One man went to the truck and set up the ramp. Two forklifts slowly took in shrink-wrapped pallets of plastic looking crates. The trailer was being loaded with missile components. The solid fuel and engine assembly.
SuJa counted every crate on each pallet, keeping a count. He also checked many of the crates' seals. As the fourth pallet was about to go inside he stopped it. "Hold it!"
Everyone stopped and watched as he looked over a crate then waved. "Problem. No seal on this crate. I'm kicking it."
"SHIT! Give us a minute." Chuck said then waved them all to stop.
The crate was pulled and visually inspected then opened and inspected by a supervisor. He determined the components were in order and authorized the crate closed and sealed. SuJa verified it was now satisfactory and allowed the pallet to be re-wrapped then loaded. Two rows of ten pallets, twenty total. Chuck signed the manifest where SuJa marked then took the yellow copy.
After SuJa had pulled the truck up and closed the doors. They were locked and sealed. Chuck also noticed that he was now armed and wore a jacket that matched his pants.
"SuJa." Chuck called out.
SuJa turned around. "Yeah?"
Chuck shrugged. "What's it mean?"
SuJa grinned. "Suicide Jockey. Later."
One of the security guards walked over. "Is he serious?"
"I remember now. Back in the old days. Horse and wagon; they carried dynamite and nitroglycerin. It was called Suicide Runs and the guys driving the wagons became known as Suicide jockeys. The ways have changed, but the name stuck. Yeah, he's serious." Chuck said.
The truck rolled out of sight without any indication of the dangerous load inside. By noon the next day it rolled in to Raytheon's facility in Waltham, Massachusetts. Within minutes the last pallet rolled off and other pallets became to be loaded. Once again, SuJa inspected them before nodding for them to be loaded. Fully assembled AIM-9X II SideWinder missiles. These crates were longer so instead of ten pallets per row, there were only eight and they had to be secured with a series of extendable bars called load-locks and straps.
Jerry Booker signed the manifest. "You're all set SuJa. No idea why they called in somebody like you. This is a regular load."
"They pay, I roll. Standing around asking why, slows up the works." SuJa replied then went to his tractor. He pulled forward then came back to close, lock and seal the doors.
It was true that other carriers routinely carried these loads. This time was different. Raytheon Security filed a report that they suspected a load information was going to be compromised. This shipment in particular. The OSI had been contacted. A surveillance team verified the threat. The load of Sidewinders marked for Joint Base Langley-Eustis was targeted. Once again, the blue Peterbilt rolled out.
SuJa knew the story. It had been in the paperwork to expect possible hijacking. Outside Raytheon's gate, he pulled on the helmet and fastened the five-point harness. The trailer doors had an interior set of locks that only he could release from inside the tractor. He sent the underway signal over his satellite link.
Not long after he was on the interstate, they came.
"Howdy boys. Nice of you to show up and keep me awake for a while." SuJa chuckled to himself and trod down on the pedal.
The powerful 3406 CAT engine roared as he picked up speed and switched gears. As the big truck neared one hundred miles per hour they made their move on him. A white cargo van pulled up along side. The passenger waved to get his attention then motioned him to pull over.
SuJa looked down then smirked and gave them the middle-finger. "I'm gonna to piss you assholes off. How d'ya like me now?"
He pressed the alarm button. It sent the signal to Phantom that his truck was now under a hijack attempt. The passenger leaned out his window with an assault rifle. SuJa didn't even give him a chance. He let off the pedal and the Jake-Brakes roared, slowing the truck. He down-shifted and floored it. The Peterbilt surged forward.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" The driver of the van yelped as the big Peterbilt nudged his back end.
Suddenly the truck surged forward again, banging the van and causing it to slide around then slide sideways in front of the truck. He let off then rammed ahead. the van was pinned sideways in front of the truck. The tires blew and were shredded away to the rims, now throwing a shower of sparks. SuJa backed off again and rammed it. The wheels caught and the van rolled over onto its side. The Peterbilt didn't slow down and caught it from rolling over again and continued to push it along on its side, uncaring of the scene inside.
The passenger looked in horror as his driver screamed. When the van had flipped over, his arm slipped out the open window to be pinned underneath and ground away between the road and van. Now the driver was going about the noisy business of bleeding to death. Quickly the passenger turned the rifle and shot him in the head to end the suffering. It was a struggle, but he started to climb up to push his upper body out of his own window. If he could do that, then he could shoot at the driver of the truck and kill him.
SuJa smiled inside his helmet as he saw the rifleman emerge from the passenger window and turn his gun on him. Round after sparking round bounced harmlessly off the windshield. SuJa let off then rammed again, knocking him back down into the van. He could see that the hijacker went straight down to the other window. His feet hit speeding pavement causing his legs to be pulled under. It took only a moment for the pain to hit, but the fear already had him screaming.
Finally the van began to drift to the side and slide away, slamming into the concrete support column of an overpass as the big blue Peterbilt roared on by undeterred. After two miles, SuJa switched off the alarm and sent the All-Secure signal. Several people had seen the event, but only one person called it in. By the time the State police were brought in, he was already over the state line. SuJa made his drop-off at the base within his scheduled time without further incident.
Winnisimmet, Massachusetts:
"Are you sure about this?" Kennedy Pena asked.
Chief Willie Pena nodded. "The Regional for ATF assured me, this guy can do it."
Reed pointed. "Is that him?"
A big red Peterbilt slowed and turned in. It stopped and they saw a man wearing dark red open one of the trailer doors, hook it then the other and climbed back into the tractor. The truck pulled around the face outward then rolled back and stop to gently bump the edge of the loading dock. After climbing out of the cab again, he slowly walked toward them and lifted himself up to greet them.
Willie's eyes were immediately drawn to the two hand cannons strapped to the man's thighs before the clipboard in his hand. "Right on time."
"Chief Pena." The driver wearing dark red leather pants and jacket softly growled before turning to Kennedy and Reed. "Hello. Such nice company you keep."
Kennedy didn't like the way he talked. It set her on edge so she glared at him. "Let's just tend to business. Mister?"
"Faust. I like; business. Shall we get to it?" Faust practically purred then tossed a wink to Reed and looked to Willie. "I'm picking up ten pallets of small-arms. Lot numbers; 2085591 through 2085601."
Willie nodded. "Yeah. You understand; this is a high-risk load?"
Faust chuckled malevolently. "Of course. I wouldn't be here, were it NOT."
Willie saw him produce a silver coin and begin to tumble it across the backs of his fingers of his left hand. A difficult task itself, but this guy was doing it easily with leather gloves on. That's when he remembered something the Regional supervisor said.
"Willie. The driver coming; his name is Faust. He's dangerous. You don't have to worry about the guns. Just worry about HIM. He's STRANGE. If he has a coin out, DON'T take it. Bad things happen to people that get his coin." The ATF Supervisor informed him.
Willie asked. "How bad, Deputy Director Hale?"
"Death, usually." Jeremy Hale said flatly. "All the people that wind up with those coins, die or go to jail for a very long time. Faust has the devil's luck. Any time there's been an attempted hijacking, they all die. More than once, the truck and trailer were completely blown off the road, he walks away without a scratch on him. Anybody he gives that coin to, is rotten."
Willie watched him play with the coin as the Evidence Clerk brought out the first pallet of crated guns.
Reed was watching him too. "The trucks were hijacked the last two times the Department tried to get rid of guns. What makes you different?"
"Have they now? Well, that makes things more exciting for me, doesn't it?" Faust smiled to the teenager then held up the coin. "If you really want to know, we could make a deal. You look like a smart young man. What say you?"
Willie caught his attention. "Reed. That's not our concern. He's the man for the job and leave it at that."
Suddenly Faust turned to look at the pallet being loaded and smiled. As the clerk came out, he commented. "Such dedication! You're a good Lumper."
"Uh, yeah. Thanks." The clerk replied.
All three watched Faust in confusion. From that moment on; he never took his eyes off the clerk, except for a minute when he went inside the trailer then came back out smiling. The coin continued to tumble over his gloved fingers.
When the last pallet was loaded, Faust flipped the coin to him. "Good job LOADING me up. Thank you. For EVERYTHING. Quite a DEAL."
Willie was about to say something, but the clipboard was in front of him before he could.
"Sign on the line, WILFREDO PENA." Faust growled with a leer. "And we; will be DONE."
Willie Pena had met many different kinds over the years. Good, bad and wild. Some were even crazy. But when he looked in the eyes of the man in front of him, he saw pure evil delight. It was there, burning like a fever in his dark eyes. As if Faust now knew something was going to happen, something he WANTED to happen. Without a word, Willie signed and felt like he had just sealed someone's fate. Or signed away a soul that wasn't his own.
Faust tore out a copy, handed it to him then turned with a smile to drop down from the dock and laughed. "A bargain! The best I ever HAD."
"Uh, Dad?" Reed asked, confused.
Willie stared as the truck was pulled forward. "Not now Son."
They heard a song started to play and a haunting male voice began to sing lyrics that sounded sinister.
If you feel alive. In a darkened room. Do you know the name, of your solitude? If you ain't got the answer. If you dont know the truth. If you want the power. Then let it flow through.
Kennedy said softly. "That's Danzig. I knew somebody that used to listen to him alot."
Would you let it go? Oh. Would you let it go? OH! Would you let it go? Oh, OH! WOULD YOU LET IT GO? They cannot end this morning. Of my life. Show me. How the gods, KILL!
Faust finished securing the doors and waved over his shoulder, laughing, as the song erupted into full volume. He climbed in and a moment later the truck began to pull out.
Willie spun around to the clerk, who was looking at the coin in his hand. "Alright Ed! Spill it! What did you do?"
Ed Haynes looked shocked. "H-How? NOTHING!"
"He's the leak!" Kennedy said, putting two and two together.
Ed tried to bolt, but Reed was faster and tackled him, bringing him down. Willie leaped onto him as well and began to cuff him.
"ONE COP DEAD AND THREE IN THE HOSPITAL BECAUSE OF YOU!" Willie yelled.
Ed protested. "You don't understand! The Connors knew I worked here. That I'd know when guns were being moved. THEY'LL Kill ME IF I DON'T TELL THEM. THEY TOLD ME TO PUT THE TRACKER IN THE TRUCK!"
"He knew." Kennedy said, now understanding everything. "Somehow, he knew Ed did it. OH MY GOD! Willie, he WANTS them to try for him!"
"The Devil's luck." Willie said, more to himself than anyone else. "Anytime there's been a hijacking of his truck, they all die. Even if the truck is blown off the road; he walks away without a scratch. OH GOD, just WHAT have I turned LOOSE?"
Faust up-shifted again. The feeling was there and he looked at the small box, the size of a pack of cigarettes. The tracking device was working perfectly. He didn't feel the need to tell them there was a scanner in his trailer and it signaled to him that it had detected a transmitter. In no time at all, he was approaching the city limits. He saw them in the distance. A medium-duty box truck blocking the road with two pick-ups in front of it. Two cars were parked on the side of the road and several men were scattered around the improvised road-block.
He pulled the helmet on, hit the alarm button then switched off his headlights and turned on a different set of lights. The underside and space between the tractor and trailer were almost floodlit with red light. Songs were changed with the push of a button and Mother by Danzig began to play. Faust laughed as he down-shifted, trod down on the pedal then pressed a button on the backside of the shift.
"What the fuck? Darren you think this guy doesn't understand, he's going to stop?" David Connors asked.
Darren spoke around the cigarette between his lips. "We're gonna kill him anyway, who cares. Huh?"
The brothers saw the lights of the truck change as it sped up. It was glowing red and flames shot from the twin stacks as the big diesel roared louder.
"Is this guy fucking crazy? SHOOT HIM!" Darren Conners ordered.
Pistols and assault rifles began to shoot at the truck, but the bullets merely sparked across it and amplified laughter rang out from the truck. The truck roared as it slammed into their roadblock and several were pinned between vehicles. The truck continued on through like the battering ram it was, clearing the road. The box truck was finally shoved to the side as it rolled over.
Faust pressed the alarm button again then stopped. He backed up and stopped again then climbed down. Several men were struggling to get their bearings or stumbled around. Their situation was resolved quickly when Faust pulled the two Wildey .475 Magnums from the holsters. Each cartridge had to be hand-loaded and the slugs had been milled, from 666 Stainless Steel. Annealed or Cold-Worked Austenitic Stainless Steel - A666. There was no need for any personal insignia to be detailed on the flat of the slug. Its composition was signature enough. The hardened slugs could tear through ballistic vests with ease, not that these men were wearing any.
David and Darren Connors fell to the ground staring in horror at the gun-toting man-demon approaching them as he laughed over loudspeakers from the truck.
"Wh-Who the Hell are YOU?" Darren demanded.
One of the guns was holstered and the man produced a coin that he flipped and caught. "That will cost you to know. Do we have a Deal?"
"YEAH!" Darren ground out in pain.
Faust flipped the coin to him and pulled off his helmet while it was in the air. Darren caught it and saw the man's face, smiling in absolute pleasure as the gun in his hand bucked twice. One shot for Darren and one for David, killing both.
Faust turned back for the truck, laughing. "Faust. A Deal is a Deal."
In Darren's right hand facing up was the coin, showing an ornate stamped F. Six dollars and sixty-six cents of hand-cast sterling silver. Faust's trademark, that his truck had an attempted hijacking. His laugh lowered to a chuckle as he sent the all-clear signal and drove away, heading to Houston for the ATF warehouse there.
Federal Evidence Storage- Chicago, Illinois;
Agent John Wahlpool stood on the loading dock watching the gate. "So when's this guy going to get here Dean?"
"Any minute now." Agent Dean Scranton answered. "I was told I'd know him when I saw him."
"Well we need to hurry up and get this shit out of here. The Marlans are pissed we seized it. Even more when we found their rat and shut him up." John reminded.
Dean sighed. He wanted to hate the agent-turned informant, but he understood. He may have been an agent, but he was also a father and husband. They had taken his wife and kids. Dean had been on the recovery team that got them back. Currently Harry Marlans' eldest son was in lock-up, sharing a cell with the biggest, meanest bad-ass they had inside. The man had killed ten men in a club in a beat-down. Worse for anyone else, he had no ties to any gang or group. A group of ViceLords had gang-raped his sister during an initiation. She was only 17 and now in a coma from the beating to make her submit.
They both perked up when the sound of a diesel engine slowing down could be heard followed by a black rig coming into view. It easily pulled in then turned about and stopped. The driver climbed down and went to open the trailer doors.
Dean began to laugh. "I should've known it would be HIM."
John looked over then back to the driver and back to his partner. "Dean-o, you can't be serious. For Christ's sake, he's wearing fucking spurs!"
Dean continued to laugh as the truck bumped the dock and the driver walked up.
"Dean-o. I knew I should've turned this one down." PeaceMaker commented.
Dean glared back. "Yeah. And if I'd known it was you, I'd have said screw it and sent this shit out UPS."
The stare-down lasted a few seconds then both men erupted into laughter and shook hands.
"Damn, its been a while." Colt said. "How long you been with this bunch?"
Dean nodded. "Too long. I been with them for three years now. I got fed up with all the weekend warrior wanna-be's ATF deals with."
"Uh." John regarded the two in confusion.
Dean looked over. "John. Colt Denton, PeaceMaker. Best transporter on eighteen wheels. PeaceMaker, John Wahlpool, my partner."
PeaceMaker shook hands. "You have my sympathy. Or should I say, pity? How'd you get stuck with this idiot, John, consolation prize for losing a raffle at Wal-mart?"
John shook his head. "Worse. I came over from a Vice unit in St. Louis. During a raid on a cat-house I caught The Drip. DEA said I could have a new treatment, but had to work with him. Suffering is part of the treatment they said."
"And now you know the true meaning of regret. I'd have told them I'd rather keep The Drip." PeaceMaker said with a straight face.
Dean shook his head. "I gave up rednecks with burning crosses that can't even spell racism, for this?"
"Yeah. You did. Now load the truck, boy." PeaceMaker drawled then laughed.
Dean waved to the two Evidence Clerks. They began bringing out pallets with forklifts and loading them inside the trailer. Twenty-two pallets went in under close watch.
John noticed PeaceMaker kept looking at something as each pallet went into the trailer. "What's up?"
PeaceMaker held up what looked like a pager. "Scanner. It tells me if any kind of transmitter is planted in the trailer. Clean so far."
"Its old school you should be worried about. They probably have a dedicated team watching the building to call an intercept team with a description of your truck." Dean commented.
PeaceMaker shrugged. "Its their funerals for trying."
John asked. "You want an escort? We can get some cars to go with you."
"Bad idea John. We'd just be getting in his way. Once Peacemaker gets a gear, anything that gets in his way is toast. Or Roadkill." Dean said.
"That's right." PeaceMaker said then held out the clipboard. "Sign your life away Dean."
The DEA agent took it and began to sign. "Yeah, yeah. If the shit ain't real or short, you'll come back and shoot me then drag my body behind your truck all the way to D.C. I know."
PeaceMaker took the clipboard back and dropped down from the dock. "That's right. Channel 30, Raffle and Drip."
They watched him pull forward then walk back and secure the door. He waved over his shoulder and climbed back into the truck. Two quick blasts on the air horn and he started rolling out.
Dean sighed. "There he goes. 70 feet long and close to 40 tons; chrome, steel and pure mean-ness. The Marlans family would be better off not trying for this load. Come on 'Drip', let's go find a C.B. and listen to the carnage."
"Thousands of comedians on the streets, starving to death trying to be funny and I made a joke that got me stuck with a shitty nick-name." John griped.
PeaceMaker up-shifted and headed for the interstate. He'd barely made a mile and a half when a Chicago P.D. cruiser pulled up alongside with his lights on. PeaceMaker up-shifted again and increased his speed, now coming up on eighty miles per hour. The police cruiser was keeping up with him and an officer stuck his arm out the window and waved at him to pull over.
A voice called over the C.B. "Black WesternStar. Pull over!"
Peacemaker spun his wheel left instead and shoved them into the K-rails and pulled away without dropping speed. He noticed two vans and a car speeding to take over the chase. He let the van directly behind him get closer then yanked down the 'Johnson Bar', a bar on the steering column for the trailer brakes only. The tandems locked up making the speeding van plow into his back end. The armored trailer took no damage from the impact, but the van's front end was smashed in and had blood on the windshield as the truck pulled away to resume picking up speed.
Jimmy Marlans shouted. "WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY? HE TOOK OUT A COP CAR LIKE HE HAD A LICENSE AND NOW A VAN TOO? GET UP ON HIS SIDE. I'M GONNA SHOOT THE FUCK!"
For the first time in his life, Mickey Tole had the feeling that this was a BAD idea, but he did as he was told. He floored the pedal making the Camaro leap forward. He pulled around the truck and came up on the driver's side. Jimmy pulled out the old school Smith and Wesson .44 revolver and aimed at the window. He pulled the trigger all six times and started swearing.
"SON-OF-A-BITCH! BULLET-PROOF GLASS!" Jimmy swore then his voice went up an octave. "OH SHIT!"
The truck had tapped it brakes enough to get the car slightly ahead then swung in behind and roared forward. It was the classic PIT and slung the car sideways to be caught by the nose of the truck. Jimmy and Mickey were both yelling in anger and fear as the truck shoved them down the highway, edging toward the right side of the lanes then dropped back to rush forward and slam them. The car was launched over the side to plummet onto a street below, upside down. The other van seeing this, dropped back and took the next exit.
"Break 30." PeaceMaker called out over the C.B. "How 'bout you Raffle? You and Drip got your ears on?"
Dean groaned in reply. "We hear ya. Go ahead."
Peacemaker said to them. "Three four-wheelers of idiots, one is a local bear. I'm gone."
Dean tossed the microphone onto the dash and started the car. "That was quick. Damn he makes a big mess. Dirty cops, when will they ever learn?"
On the highway, PeaceMaker was now roaring along at over 90 miles per hour. He could see what looked like three white trucks with yellow lights running in a side-by-side formation. He switched over to channel 19 and grabbed the mic.
"Break 19." PeaceMaker called out.
A voice called back. "Go Break!"
PeaceMaker could see better now and recognized the trucks. "Southbound. Big Iron Boyz clear that get-gone lane."
"Who-dat?" A voice called out.
"PeaceMaker." PeaceMaker growled.
"Lane's yours." One of the Big Iron Boyz called.
Immediately the middle truck slowed down giving the left truck room to swing into the lane. PeaceMaker up-shifted again, taking him over the 100 mark as he went past the well-known trucks. They were rolling at the posted limit of 60, so he practically blasted by them. There were three trucks on the roads, no driver wanted to cross. PeaceMaker, Faust and the mysterious grey Kenworth supposedly driven by a woman. PeaceMaker turned on his radio and was greeted with Ronnie Milsap's Prisoner of the Highway. He turned it up loud.
In fact, every truck heading southbound heard and moved out of the far left lane. That continued for an hour after PeaceMaker left the city limits behind. Just over the state line into Missouri; a cruiser turned on his lights, swung out and closed in then backed off to slowly cross over to the Northbound lanes.
Looking in his mirrors PeaceMaker smirked. "That's right. You don't want nothing with this truck, Full-Grown."
Full-Grown being the C.B. term for State Police. The cruiser had obviously gotten close enough to run the license plate and knew to heed the warning it came with. Even though he had a radio capable of monitoring the police bands, PeaceMaker only used it inside cities. Out on the open Highways, he didn't need it. If the license plate didn't deter someone, then they were fair game for him. Not long after sunrise he pulled off the interstate onto a state highway and drove three miles.
The black WesternStar pulled in at a small station. He pulled all the way around the building to get into position between the single set of deisel pumps. An old man came out.
"How much you need, Driver?" The old man asked.
PeaceMaker nodded to him. "All I can hold."
While the old man filled the tanks, PeaceMaker checked the fluids then cleaned the windshields and mirrors. He gave the cords to the air tank valves a quick tug to purge the water out. After fueling, they went inside. Peacemaker paid for the fuel, filled two large thermos bottles with coffee and grabbed a breakfast biscuit. Within minutes he was back on the interstate en-route to Dallas, Texas.
Mike Conlow rolled in to Lake City Ammo Plant in Independence, Missouri. In the loading dock lot he opened the doors then backed up to gently nudge the dock and bailed out.
"How's it goin', eh?" MiLo asked and handed the man his clipboard.
Brandon Jackson looked over the forms and nodded. "Your accent threw me for a minute. Paperwork's in order."
"Always is. You ready?" MiLo asked.
"Yep." Brandon replied the called over his shoulder. "Load up!"
Two forklifts came out and began to carefully load up the pallets. MiLo checked what looked like a pager on the belt of his jacket and marked off each pallet going in. Finally he handed over the clipboard.
"Fourteen pallets of 30 millimeter Depleted Uranium rounds. Sign there." MiLo said.
Brandon signed and handed the clipboard back. "Satisfied? Good to roll?"
MiLo tore out a copy. "Yep. Anything new?"
"Yeah. Everybody thinks this load is going to Fort Hood, Texas. Just in case. All good?" Brandon remarked then gave him a thumbs-up.
MiLo chuckled. "All good. Don't let 'em work you too hard."
Brandon just shook his head and chuckled too. MiLo hopped off the dock and went back to climb up into the tractor. He pulled forward ten feet then went back and secured the doors. As he went back to the cab he chambered his pistol then zipped up the jacket and pulled on the helmet. In the driver's seat he latched the harness and sent the load out signal. As he rolled out he played his favorite song, Road Hammer.
Carefully he watched his mirrors and saw a pick-up that was keeping a fair amount of distance. MiLo just grinned, he already had a plan to deal with them if they actually were following him. At the next exit he turned off and rolled to the truck-stop he had spotted earlier. A big Petro. The light grey WesternStar rolled through the gate and headed for the parking area. The pick-up had followed him, but had to stop. It wasn't allowed in there.
"Aww. What's the matter? The mean ol' gate guard won't let your little pick 'em up truck in, eh?" MiLo laughed to himself then rolled behind a line of trucks.
He pulled up Chris Rea's Workin' On It and headed for the back gate and rolled right out. As he rolled past the front of the truckstop he was hidden by another truck beside him. He turned onto the ramp and began to up-shift as another big truck was right behind him. He was laughing as he hit ninety-five miles per hour. MiLo knew they would be going crazy soon. By the time they figured out he wasn't there, they wouldn't know which way he'd gone and would never catch up.
"Better luck next time hosers!" MiLo said to himself as he drove off into the night heading for Moody Air Force Base in Georgia.
Jodi spun the wheel to make the turn for the gate of Shaw Air Force Base. The Airman at the gate waved her forward with his flashlight then climbed up to see her ID and check it against the list. He walked around the truck, playing the beam underneath it and noted its number then pointed to the side. The dark grey Kenworth pulled forward and over. A dog was brought out and circled the truck.
Another Airman waved to her. "I need to look inside the cab."
Jodi waved back for him to go around to the other side. He heard locks then tried the handle. The door swung open and he climbed up to look inside.
"Holy shit! What kind of truck is this?" The MP asked, seeing the framework of a roll-cage and the woman was firmly strapped in with a five-point harness.
Trip just looked at him. "You done?"
Slowly he backed down from the truck. "Yeah. Follow that Hummer."
After a wave to proceed, the Hummer led the way with Trip-9 following close behind. Slowly the truck was directed to the base Ammunition Supply Point, A.S.P. At the depot she climbed down and opened the doors then backed into to dock. Once again Jodi had to show her ID. Both her license and Military ID. It took a few minutes to confirm her clearances, but all came back in order.
One by one, pallets were brought out. Jodi almost crawled all over each one, looking for anything out of the ordinary before waving it to be sealed and loaded. Two metal cases on each of the ten pallets down both sides of the trailer. Forty warheads, three mega-ton yield each. After each pallet was secured, Jodi finally came out of the trailer and handed over the clipboard.
"Sign forms 46, 71 and 139 Colonel." Jodi instructed.
The colonel looked them over and said. "I never heard of 139."
Jodi pointed it out. "139 replaces forms 29 and 36, Colonel. As of September 21, last year. Verify that."
The Colonel went over to a phone and called in. Four minutes later he hung up and began signing the forms.
"You certainly are up-to-date on procedures. My Lieutenant knew exactly what form you were talking about. I guess I'm getting old." the Colonel admitted then finished and handed the clipboard back.
Jodi shook her head as she counter-signed then tore off certain copies. "Technically, these should have been picked up ten years ago Colonel. I'm sure D.O.E. about shit when they found out these were still here."
Colonel Mekland frowned. "They did. Everybody, from the Base Commander on down to me, got REAMED."
"Uh-huh. Well, I'm good to go." Jodi stated. "Colonel."
Mekland nodded. "Safe trip."
Trip went back to the tractor and pulled forward then walked back to secure the trailer doors. She walked around the entire truck and trailer.
"What's she doing Colonel?" One of the MPs asked.
Mekland had been watching as well. "She's looking for anything that doesn't belong Airman. Such as transmitters or sabotage devices."
The MP was shocked. "You mean she thinks one of US would do that?"
"Harsh lesson Airman. When it comes to nukes, there is no such thing as trust. I'd be concerned if she didn't check her truck." Colonel Mekland stated watching her climb back into the tractor.
The truck began to roll forward then out on to the road. Ten minutes later, it rolled through the gates out into the night. Inside the truck, Jodi had already sent her load-out signal. She reached forward and switched off the third light switch, which turned off the majority of truck lights. Trip-9 was now running Black-Out and up-shifted, picking up speed. It took less than an hour to go from Shaw to Camden, South Carolina to get on Interstate 20. Merging onto the interstate, the grey Kenworth passed 70 miles per hour and continued to accelerate. She would be able to run Interstate 20 all the way to Pecos, Texas then turn North to go into New Mexico for Carlsbad.
The sun was rising just as Trip-9 rolled into Augusta, Georgia. A quick refuel stop outside Atlanta gave enough fuel to run non-stop to Marshall, Texas. Phantom Trucks never used any of the national chain truckstops when loaded. Only small places where the truck was in full view and any incident would be slow in reporting by request. Jodi drove on. Atlanta was no problem, rush hour was past. Finally in Louisiana, in the Shreveport-Bossier City area, she pulled in at Barksdale Air Force Base. There was a secure area waiting for her to sleep at.
An hour before sunrise, Jodi woke up. Quickly she walked around the truck, checking for any devices then climbed back in. A Humvee led the way back to the gate and she rolled out. Not long after, she pulled in at Pony Express; an old truckstop in Marshall, Texas. Both tanks were filled to full and she tossed out the trash from her cab. Including the gallon jug she had used to empty her bladder with. Inside she paid for the fuel, two gallons of water, filled both thermos bottles with fresh coffee and some foil-wrapped sandwiches. If Jodi had the habit, she probably would have bought cigarettes too, but she didn't. After another quick walk-around, Trip-9 was back on the road.
40 miles west of Abilene, Texas was the next refuel point; Trent, Texas. The sun was setting as the dark grey Kenworth broke from the gloom with its jake-brakes growling and turned in at the run down station.
An old man lurched out. "Fillin' up, Driver?"
"Yessir." Trip replied and uncapped the tanks for him then acknowledged his cap. "Vietnam."
"That's right. I was with the 25th. Snot-nosed kid back then." He said setting the nozzles into the tanks and began fueling.
Trip grabbed a squeegee and cleaned the windshields then mirrors. "What do you hear, West-bound?"
The old man spit to the side. "Got a Sheriff down there, this side of Pecos. * Pogue County. He's about as mean as a Two-Step Charlie and twice as sneaky."
"Speed-trap?" Trip asked.
"He done learned himself a new trick. He sets himself up a fake road close and makes folk detour off the interstate and then gets into his town where he can fine 'em every dollar they got. If they ain't got enough, he takes whatever they do have. Including trucks and cars." The old man said angrily.
Trip nodded grimly. "Big mistake to try that with me."
The old man nodded to the station. "You might be wantin' to call Highway Patrol to make sure there ain't no real Road Closing."
"I can do that from in the truck." Trip said.
The pumps stopped and he hung up the nozzles and came back around. "Anything else?"
Trip pulled cash from the inner pocket of her jacket. "That's it."
She pulled off the notes and handed them over. He took them and counted out change from his own pocket and hand-wrote a receipt.
"Thanks." Trip said, pocketing the ticket and zipped the jacket.
The old man pointed to her guns. "Missy, them hawg-legs will get Sheriff Bocum's attention real quick if you get down from that truck. I ain't lying, he'll shoot as soon as look at you."
Trip was climbing back up into the cab. "He can try. Take care Trooper."
He watched her start the engine, strap in and pull on a helmet then close the door. "Lord-a-mighty. Something tells me Bocum should sit around drinkin' beer tonight."
As Trip-9 merged back onto the Interstate she used the cellphone to call in. A few minutes later Troy himself called back, Texas Highway Patrol stated there were no closures for I-20. That suited her just fine. It didn't take long and she was pushing 110 miles per hour as night fell. Miles flew by under her wheels. Twice she saw police lights come on after she passed and give chase, only to back off after getting close enough for the license plate to be run.
"Break 19 West-bound." A voice called out on the C.B.
Another voice answered. "Go Break."
The first voice called out. "West-bound is detouring Exit 91."
"Rod-jo, rod-jo. I'll keep an eyeball out for it. 10-10-on the side." The second voice replied.
Trip felt it was a set-up. Neither party had identified themselves nor had the reason for the detour been stated. Another factor was that she had just passed mile marker 101. She was being given plenty off warning about the road up ahead. Sure enough, a crude barricade came into view. The real give-away was that the signs had obviously been hand painted and marked with flares, not blinking lights.
"Pathetic." Trip muttered to herself and held her speed, crashing through the make-shift barrier.
Seconds later blue lights came on and gave chase. Jodi switched songs and cranked the volume. The remix of Gavin Rossdale's Adrenaline began to play and she floored the pedal and upshifted for the last gear. Trip-9 lurched and settled into building more speed. The alarm was activated and the big truck roared on.
In the squad car a deputy called over the radio. "SHERIFF! I GOT A LIVE ONE. THE DAMN TRUCK JUST BLEW THROUGH THE BARRICADE!"
"Bobby. Turn on your lights and run 'em down." Sheriff Bocum answered.
Bobby protested. "I'm doin' that already! I'm doin' a hun'ert 'n fi'teen and that damn truck is just up and walkin' off!"
Bocum snapped at him. "Trucks don't go that fast, Boy! No trucker'd try to out run a cop."
"West-end! That truck's a comin' Block 'em!" Bobby called in frustration.
A voice called back. "We just pulled our cars out, Bobby. C.C. is pulling out his truck to block further on."
Bocum jumped back in. "I'll go to C.C.'s truck. Ya'll better stop that truck first!"
None of them had any clue that Jodi's scanner had found their frequency and she was listening to their exchange. One by one she checked the loads of her two Colt 10mm pistols. Then she worked the zipper of her jacket up to the collar. Once the helmet visor snapped down, It would take anti-armor rounds to bring her down. Just in case, she shoved two of the rifle's magazines into her jacket pockets.
Up ahead she saw the two cars blocking the road and a handful of flares leading to them. Visions of Baghdad faded in and out as she found herself screaming the song lyrics like she had back then.
"Too much is not enough! Nobody gave it up! I'm NOT the kind! TO LAY DOWN AND DIE!" Trip sang at the top of her lungs and slammed through the cars. "ADRENALINE, SCREAMING OUT YOUR NAME! ADRENALINE, 'CAUSE YOU DON'T EVEN FEEL THE PAIN! WILDER THAN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS! I'M GOIN' TO EXTREMES! TASTE ADRENALINE."
A hundred yards further a tractor and dump trailer blocked the road. It was easily seen the trailer was full of debris. Trip locked up the brakes and corrected to prevent a jack-knife. As soon as the truck lurched she threw it from gear and hit both valves to lock the brakes and bailed out, grabbing the REC-7 before clearing the cab.
"FREEZE!" Bocum yelled then started shooting with his Smith & Wesson revolver.
Trip brought up the assault rifle and switched to AUTO and let loose a burst of 6.8mm that chewed up the front of the pick-up truck and drove him down behind it. Bullets began smacking into her back, drawing Trip's attention. She turned and triggered off another burst, dropping the Deputy to writhe on the road. Trip snapped the visor down and stalked toward the truck. A long burst ripped into the truck from the REC-7 and magazines were changed.
"SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Bocum swore trying to reload his revolver.
Shots from behind again gained her attention and she spun and let loose two bursts that almost tore the second corrupt Deputy in half. She turned back and send another volley into the side of the blocking tractor. The driver inside barely avoided being hit by any. Quickly he understood what was wanted and started up the truck then backed it into the median strip. He then had to duck from bullets being fired from the Sheriff.
"PULL THAT TRUCK BACK UP HERE!!" Bocum yelled after shooting twice.
A quick stitch of rounds through his legs made him flop onto the road.
"I'M A FUCKIN' SHERIFF YA SUM BITCH! YOU AIN'T EVEN GONNA MAKE IT TO MY JAIL!" Bocum cursed and raised his pistol.
A burst into his shoulder rendered it useless and the revolver dropped. Trip bore down with the assault rifle.
Bocum glared with hatred. "I'm the goddamn law here! I'll have you hung! Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Trip just held down the trigger,sending the remaining rounds to hammer through his chest and turned away. "Trip-9."
Slowly she walked back to her truck, retrieving the spent magazine along the way. Trip began to roll forward and went around the discarded pick-up. She turned off the alarm and sent the all-clear signal. Her phone rang, so she answered it using the Bluetooth to her helmet.
"Go." Trip answered.
Troy Montaine's voice asked. "Status?"
Trip replied. "Secure and rolling. Three bodies."
"Highway Patrol is on the way." Troy warned.
"I'm already gone. Trip-9, out." Trip said then disconnected.
Five minutes later two highway patrol cars stopped at the wreckage.
"Jesus Christ! What the Hell happened?" One of the patrolmen asked.
The other shook his head. "Earlier, a truck blasted past me. I ran the plate and got a Federal warning. Looks like that jack-ass Bocum tried to hijack it."
"What do you mean; a warning?" The first patrolman asked.
"You just started on your own. There's a group of trucks. Those trucks haul government loads and have license plates that tell you to back off. The one I just saw, told me not just to back off. It told me the driver is dangerous. That means they were hauling stuff we don't want no part of. You see a warning come up, obey it. Let THIS be a lesson to you." The older Patrolman pointed to the now dead Sheriff. "A badge don't mean shit when it comes to those trucks."
They called in for services to come clean up the highway. The driver of the dump truck was detained for questioning, sometime during which, men in dark suits visited.
It was late morning when the dark grey Kenworth rolled through Carlsbad, New Mexico. It stopped at a facility called WIPP. Waste Isolation Pilot Plant. After being unloaded, it rolled back out.
MiLo walked into Troy Montaine's office. "You wanted to see me?"
Troy stood up. "Come in Mike. Ted, this is Mike Conlow."
"I've been looking forward to meeting you." Ted stood up and offered his hand, his Canadian accent was evident.
"Hi. What's up?" MiLo asked.
Troy sat back down. "Think of Ted as my counterpart in Canada. He came to ask if I knew of any drivers experienced with high-security willing to relocate to Vancouver. I only know one."
MiLo nodded. "That would be me."
Troy nodded back. "That's right. His offer is on the table and I have no objection. You have no obligations, but your own. Would you like to hear his offer?"
"It would be closer to family. Ok. I'll hear you out." MiLo replied.
Troy stood up and went to the door. "Take your time gentlemen."
"Thanks." Ted said.
Troy closed the door behind him and went down to Dispatch.
"Hey boss." Lacey greeted.
Troy patted her on the head. "Find that driver information for me. Silvia Petrescu, the GypsyMoth."
Lacey nodded as he left. "On it Uncle Troy."
Troy went out to the bays to look over all the trucks. Soon, the Road Phantoms would be taking the highways again.
*Author's notes- Winnismett Tales characters used with permission from their creator: efingdumb. Many thanks ef.
Pogue county, Texas is fictional and used for the purpose of this story.
At anytime over a million trucks are professionally driven on the highways and by-ways of America. Carrying everything from acid to yachts. Not all loads are so innocuous. Some are precious and some are out-right lethal. For loads that are deemed dangerous or valuable to be referred to as High-Security, special trucks are used. Trucks that look so normal, one would never guess it from any other. Trucks that run in secret, apart from their company, called Ghost Fleets. Others have no markings at all, and are specially modified. One such company that specializes in High-Security Loads; Phantom Lines.... |
Chapter 1
Jason had been working hard all morning to finish. Trip-9's truck had taken a beating, though everyone that had seen it commented it was light damage compared to usual. Still though, he'd had to dive in and hurry to pull the damaged parts and replace them over the past three days. He stopped to go refill his cup. After a stop in the men's restroom, he went to the break room for more coffee.
He refilled it the way he liked and snapped the lid on to take a sip. "Oh Yeah."
A giggle from behind made him turn around and freeze. Red-haired twins in identical black dresses faced him, smiling.
"He's cute." The twin on the left said, added to by the twin on the right. "He's new."
Jason looked to them and stammered out. "Uh. Hi."
Slowly they approached him, still smiling and drawled in unison. "Hi."
"Can I, like, help you?" Jason asked.
The twin on the left slipped an arm over his shoulder. "Got a name?"
"Are you fun?" The twin on the right did the same.
"Um." Jason looked from one to the other then saw someone in the doorway and blurted out. "I DON'T KNOW THEM."
The twins looked to see Jodi walking in and said in unison. "Hi Trip!"
Jodi didn't even look at them. "I thought there was a Leash-law in town."
"You want to put us on leashes?" The twin on the left asked with a smile, while the twin on the right giggled and asked. "And pretty collars?"
"Get off the mechanic." Jodi said then gave them a quick glance. "Jason. That's Frick on your right. Frack is on the left. They belong to Faust."
"It's amazing how she can tell us apart." The twin on the left remarked.
The twin on the right pouted. "But she never plays with us."
"YOU will, WON'T YOU?" They asked together caressing Jason Coruthers' face.
Jason stammered. "I, uh, well."
Jodi turned around and stared coldly at the two. "Frick, Frack. Off. NOW."
Jason could swear the temperature of the room just dropped and the twins slowly moved away.
"Wow Trip." One twin commented and the other nodded. "We didn't know he belonged to you."
The leather-like pants creaked slightly as Jodi started walking to the door. "He works on my truck. He isn't done yet."
Faust asked in his usual growl-like purr as he sauntered in. "Cranky today, Trip?"
"Keep them off the mechanic." Jodi said walking out.
The twins rushed over and slipped their arms around Faust. "Trip's being MEAN."
Faust looked over to Jason. "Jason, was it? I see you've met my Sins."
Both waved to the mechanic and giggled.
"This, is Lust." Faust said seductively and kissed the one on his right, then growled and kissed the one on his left. "And this, is Envy."
"Trip won't let us play." Envy complained while Lust nodded. "We'd give him back. In a day or two."
"UGH!" Lacey groaned then glared at Faust. "What are THEY doing here?"
"LACEY." The twins whined.
Lacey ignored them and addressed Jason. "You work on Trip's truck, right? When will it be ready for her?"
Jason tried to regain his composure. "This afternoon, sometime. Does she need it tonight?"
"I need her ready to roll tomorrow morning." Lacey said then added. "Fly-by, too."
Faust looked over. "Monkey said I'm ready. I can go if you need."
Lacey shook her head. "I already have a load for you. It's right up YOUR alley."
"Fly-by is ready. I'll have Trip-9 finished this afternoon and ready to roll." Jason stated.
"Tell me when." Lacey nodded then looked over to Faust and the twins. "Do something with them."
Jason thought it best to make his way out while she was talking to them. He rushed back through the first door of the bays and slowed down as he walked to the last one.
Setting his cup down he shook his head. "Nah, that wasn't strange."
Shaking that off, he went back to work.
The next morning all drivers and mechanics were in the break room when Lacey came in.
"Faust, Stunt-man, Gypsy-moth, Fly-by and Trip; you have loads. PeaceMaker, Check-point Charlie and Hobby; standby-by. Arvee is on idle. SuJa is down." Lacey called out then looked over to a mechanic. "Danny, how long on SuJa?"
Danny nodded. "The truck'll be ready tomorrow. The idiot driving it on the other hand, can't do nothing with. He's beyond all fucking hope."
"Hey now!" SuJa said.
Everyone laughed.
Even Lacey had smiled and waved them out. "Go to work."
When all but the drivers with loads had left, Lacey began handing out envelopes. "Trip and Fly-by are a double-up. Gypsy, I know you're new and all, but you're doubling up with Stunt-man. Sorry."
Dell Seavers looked over to Lacey. "That hurts."
"I'm pretty sure I can deal." Silvia Petrescu, Gypsy-moth, replied.
Silvia was slowly getting used to the company. They were different than any other she had heard of. She had grown up behind the wheel of her father’s Peterbilt. Joined the US Army at 18 as 88H - Cargo Specialist. Silvia won her spurs running Gun trucks on Red Route 1 in Afghanistan after the first of three combat tours. The attitude of 'The load gets through, no exceptions' didn't go without notice. She was tapped to run supplies to the forward Firebases and Basecamps. In all of the runs, she never lost a load or convoy under her protection as a Gun truck driver. Served eight years before being discharged. Honorable Discharge and returned home.
The homecoming wasn't joyous; finding out that her mother and father had been killed in a Hijacking. Her parents had taken a load of small arms ammunition for the U.S. Marines. Within hours the truck was hijacked and stolen, her parents left on the side of the road dead. She spent the next two years looking for the hijackers before finding them, members of a gang subordinate to a Mexican cartel. She killed them in an all-out rolling firefight on I-10 between Pecos and El Paso, Tx. Luck was on her side, along with the law. Public opinion though, was not. No one would give her a load due to the cloud hanging over her head. Everyone thought she was heavy handed in her use of force to protect the load she was carrying. It was a load of high explosives, small arms ammunition, and AT-4’s.
That's how things had been for a year. Two weeks ago, a man with a cane showed up. Troy Montaine; and he had an offer. It was a never-ending fix for a driver like her.
Seavers looked over. "My office in five minutes?"
"Sure." Silvia nodded then went to the office Lacey had assigned her to.
Inside, Silvia changed into the new clothing given to her. Lacey had explained that though it looked cool and fit her style, it's real purpose was to protect her. The pants and feminine-looking Duster were made with ballistic material. Even the boots she had to immediately start wearing four days ago, were bullet-resistant. It felt strange to strap on the gunbelt with its two .45 caliber Heckler and Koch pistols. She had an old Colt, but Montaine shook his head and told her that she would use his guns driving his truck, or none for somebody else.
"My money; my driver, my truck, my guns." Troy said flatly. "Or not at all."
Silvia nodded. There were no two-ways with this man. It would be his way, or no way. After really checking out the truck, she really got the picture. There was NOTHING ordinary about this company. When she had asked around, mouths closed. The only thing people would say about Troy Montaine was, If you needed something, somewhere? He was the man, but don't ever try to cross him.
She then walked down to his office. "I'm ready."
Dell waved her in. "C'mon in."
Dell explained the load. Then he explained the route and why. Finally he explained the protocols. Silvia was impressed. Despite her inital thoughts of him being a bit of a flake, Stunt-man was fairly serious and thorough when explaining.
"I think maybe I need to apologize." Silvia said.
Dell leaned back against his desk. "Why's that?"
"No offense, but I thought you were a flake when I first met you." Silvia commented.
Dell laughed. "I am! I am also a professional. Professional Stunt-Man, Stunt Coordinator, Stunt Driver, Truck Driver. You can be fun and professional at the same time. So what if I'm a flake? I commit to the job when it's time to work. I never got more than bumps and bruises on set. I got hurt off-set and now I do this. Get my point? Do it right, or do it for the last time. This is JUST like stunt-work. The only difference is, you DEFINITELY don't get a second-take. Let's go."
They went to the bays and climbed into their trucks. Within five minutes, the doors lifted and they rolled out. Stunt-man's sparkling root beer color Freightliner leading Gypsy-moth's light grey WesternStar.
Fly-by met Trip in her office.
"Hey Trip. What's the skinny?" Brendan Williams, Fly-by, asked.
Jodi brought over the atlas and pages. "High speed run. Pick-up is in Hot-lanta. The Hot-Zone."
Brendan gave a low whistle. "CDC? Oh jeez. That place creeps me out."
CDC, Center for Disease Control. A Federal Agency under the Department of Health and Human Services . From the common cold to Ebola, focuses its attention on infectious disease, food borne pathogens, environmental health, occupational safety and health, health promotion, injury prevention and educational activities designed to improve health. They maintained a highly restricted research area called the Hot-Zone. Anybody that knew anything about disease research, knew about it. The doctors that worked there were the most highly trained and dedicated. Hot-Zone was for Level-5 contagions. Diseases that killed in days, or hours.
Trip looked over. "Then you're gonna LOVE where the drop-off is."
"Plum Island?" Brendan asked.
"Namtar's Fortress." Jodi replied flatly.
Brendan shivered. He'd only heard rumors of the place. It was where the military secured weaponized pathogen research. It was a classified location hidden at Dugway Proving Grounds, established in 1942 to test biological and chemical weapons, located about 85 miles southwest of Salt Lake City, Utah. Somewhere within an area the size of Rhode Island was a twenty square mile zone called Namtar's Fortress. Namtar was the Mesopotamian god of disease and death. Naming a facility that secured and researched pathogens that had become weaponized after him, wasn't that far of a stretch.
Jodi looked at him intently. "Stay inside your truck. During pick-up and drop off."
"How bad? CDC-5?" Fly-by asked.
Level-5 was the highest level of contagion, lethal, issued by the CDC.
Trip shook her head slowly. "No. This is Black-8."
That put it all into grim reality. The military had their own system for bio-agents. Red one through ten and Black one through ten. Red were naturally occurring and killed within days, like Ebola. All bio-agents in the Black category were created through research and killed within hours. The higher the number, the faster it killed.
"Once we pick-up. The only stopping is for fuel and twice to sleep, four hours each time. We have no restrictions. You and I are the fastest trucks." Trip said then asked. "Go, or No-Go?"
Fly-by looked at the manifest for what seemed like an eternity then said. "Go."
Trip nodded. "Hook up your reefer. We roll in five. I'll lead."
Fly-by nodded.
"All you have to is stay on my tail Fly-by." Trip instructed. "Hook-up and roll."
After grabbing her guns, she led him out. Five minutes later, the grey Kenworth was followed by a white one, heading for the road.
Faust was ready and rolled out in minutes. This was definitely HIS kind of load. A load of 25 tons of cocaine seized by Border Patrol being transferred from their El Paso facility to a DEA group in New Orleans. Normally PeaceMaker would take this type of load, but the information was that the cartel wanted it back and had already tried. They would definitely try again. The DEA requested Faust specifically. They one of two things would happen. Either the load would go through, or the cartel members on this side of the border would be wiped out.
It wasn't his first time and a previous hijack attempt gained him a name. El Chófer del Diablo. The Devil's chauffeur. That amused him. Almost as much as the DEA using seized drugs to bust major organizations. The problem came when large amounts were in play. 25 tons got alot of attention. The producer wanted it back. The smuggler wanted it back. The buyer wanted it back. The junkies themselves wanted it back. All that would between the dope and everybody else, was Faust. A run like this would require the Devil's luck.
Gypsy-moth followed right behind Stunt-man. He had to remind her that they didn't have the load yet, so they still had to play by the rules. Most companies did all they could to prevent dead-heading, running without a load. Empty trucks didn't make money. Phantom was different. Every second the truck was out of the bay was paid. However, the special privileges Phantom had only applied to when they had loads. Except for PeaceMaker, Faust and Trip. Because of the nature of their loads, they had no restrictions. Also there was the off chance that the decontamination of Trip-9 wasn't thorough enough.
"How you doing back there Gypsy?" Stunt-man asked over the radio.
Gypsy-moth called back. "All good Stunt-man. We coming up on it?"
They had drove according to the regulations then stopped in Reno to rest up. Now they were ready. It was late afternoon and they were about to pull in at the holding area n Pershing County. It was basically a high security warehouse for gold and silver bullion produced in Nevada. Also it was where Casinos kept gold payments. The security there was just short of the Depository at Fort Knox. Or so the official statement was. Some secretly argued that it was more heavily defended.
Slowly the two trucks turned in at the gate and stopped. After the authorization was confirmed they rolled through and docked.
"How you doing?" Dell asked the man at the dock. "I'm Stunt-man. She's Gypsy-moth."
The man nodded and shook hands with both. "I'm Rick Scanlon. We're all set to load you up."
Dell nodded. "Ok. Bring 'em on."
Two forklifts began bringing out pallets of gold bullion. Each one stopped before going into the trailers for the bars to be counted. Scanlon also counted. When the last pallet was loaded Gypsy looked over to Stunt-man and shook her head.
"Something's wrong." Scanlon remarked. "Ten bars are missing."
Stunt-man nodded. "Noticed that ourselves. What's up?"
Scanlon looked pissed off. "That's just what I'm going to find out!"
Twenty minutes later one of the forklifts came out with ten bars on a pallet, followed by Rick with a look of disgust.
"Sorry about that. The last bars weren't staged because they had come in separately and were stored differently. My fault." Rick apologized.
The additions were added to the count sheet and Gypsy nodded. "Clerical error I guess."
Scanlon shook his head. "No. I FUCKED up and it's not taken lightly. We don't do 'oops' around here."
"The count is right, now. You fixed an error before it became a problem. I got no gripe." Stunt-man said.
"But I do." Scanlon said clearly. "I messed up. I have to take the hit. That's the way we are here."
Rick Scanlon took both clipboards and signed off then accepted the manifest copies. "Stay safe out there. Our protection stops at the gate."
Stunt-man chuckled. "Fine by us. Let's go Gypsy."
They climbed into their trucks and rolled out. Along the way Stunt-man noticed more Nevada Highway Patrol cars along the highway. They had driven two hundred miles when Gypsy-moth noticed something in her mirror.
"Stunt-man." She called out over their secure radio. "I got something coming up on our back-door."
George Thorogood could be heard in the background when he replied. "We got something up ahead too."
Over the CB a voice called out. "Two trucks heading south. Save yourself some trouble. Pull over and get out."
"That's pretty straight forward." Stunt-man replied over the CB.
Gypsy asked. "Does this mean we can hurt them now?"
"That's a BIG 10-4. Bring out your whiskers and grab a gear." Stunt-man instructed.
He floated up a gear as he drifted into the oncoming lane. Gypsy floated up too and took up his previous space. She also flipped a switch she had been told about. A set of slim metal rods swung out and down from the front bumper. Gypsy had been explained of their purpose. Just as they closed in on the group of vehicles in front of them, she saw what Stunt-man had suspected. Spike strips. She had to laugh as the two trucks broke past unharmed. The Whiskers serving their purpose, scooping up and holding the spike strips away from the tires to be dragged along. A hand signal from him told her to stop and they both bailed out.
Dell had the old M-14 in hand as his boots hit the hardball, Silvia had an M-4. Both opened up, peppering vehicles as they advanced. Good news, bad news. Nevada is a 'stand your ground' state, which means there are a lot of guns, especially assault rifles. These guys didn't show up to party empty handed. Civilian version of AR-15's, Bushmasters, returned fire as did a few AK-47s. That was the bad news. The good news was, the shooters didn't have the skills honed from actual combat or time spent on ranges. The only way to acquire the skill of shooting accurately while being shot at, was experience.
The next best thing to that was being on the set of a war movie. Stunt-man treated it as such and kept his cool and focus. Between the two of them, the hijackers found themselves being hammered by overwhelming return fire.
"COVER ME!" Stunt-man called out then dashed back to the front of the trucks.
Gypsy-moth had complied and triggered off bursts to keep them pinned down as he worked. Stunt-man held the rifle one-handed to shot in the general direction while pulling the spike-strips out of the way. His sharp eyes had caught what Gypsy hadn't. Flashing lights in the distance. Highway Patrol cars were coming.
"TAKE OUT THEIR RIDES!" Stunt-man instructed as he rejoined her.
Gypsy changed aim. "ON IT!"
A static target was easier to hit. Tires were first then they shot into the engine compartments. They weren't concerned about the rounds having the punch to penetrate the blocks, just to get in there and tear up components. Batteries, radiators, belts, distributor caps, hoses and wiring were the real targets.
"THEY'RE WALKING NOW!" Gypsy-moth stated, seeing steam or smoke coming from the vehicles.
Stunt-man smiled. "Roll out!"
Together they covered each other's retreat to the tractors. Gypsy dropped a gear and began to roll forward. Her door popped open again and she leaned out the send cover-fire as Stunt-man climbed up into his truck and began to roll forward. He saw what she was doing and did the same, but in a higher gear. Gypsy ducked back inside and up-shifted. The hijackers knew they were about to lose them and risked coming out to shoot more accurately. That's when they finally noticed the problems had compounded.
Stunt-man dropped back into his seat and shifted again then grabbed his mic. "CUT AND PRINT, THAT'S A WRAP!"
Gypsy-moth wanted to laugh. He left his channel open and she now heard Hold On, I'm Comin' by Welshly Arms start to play.
"You know, I'm surprised you aren't playing Danger Zone." Gypsy called out.
Stunt-man answered. "They didn't have a shoot-out. Besides, we don't have planes. I could have played something from Mad Max Thunderdome, but Tina Turner doesn't fit this."
"It don't?" Gypsy asked shifting again.
Stunt-man laughed. "Nope. She's a nice lady though, never turned anybody on the crew away for autographs or pictures. Even found time to write some songs on set."
"NO WAY! You worked that one?" Gypsy asked as he pulled ahead.
A line of patrol cars screamed past them heading for the fight.
"Just another day on the job." Stunt-man chuckled. "Just like M.I.2 and The Patriot. I was in Shanghai Noon, too. I wanted X-Men but they wouldn't let me."
Gypsy was truly interested. "Why not?"
"The Stunt Coordinator knew I had a sprained ankle." Stunt-man laughed. "He threatened to break it if I ever tried to lie to him again."
Gypsy laughed back. It was easy to understand. That movie had been a blockbuster, anybody would want to have been in it. The rest of their run was uneventful as they blended into the mass of trucks heading East on Interstate 10 then on Interstate 20.
Jake Roper had barely crushed out a cigarette and was lighting another as he stood waiting on the loading dock.
"Roper, what's got you all jittery." The Sergeant in charge of the Border Patrol lock-up asked.
The DEA agent blew out a stream of smoke. "I'll just be glad when this is over."
"Don't feel like the Lone Stranger. If Enrique sends more guys, we might not be able to keep them out." Ron Sanchez remarked. "We're just not equipped or staffed for this kind of thing."
Jake shook his head. "Enrique Ventura is not my main concern."
"Should be. He wants his coke back. Twenty-five tons is A LOT. He's gotta make good or his distributor is going to take it out on him." Ron pointed out.
Roper took another drag off the Winston. "They can slaughter each other for all I care. Look, this has been a constant nightmare and guessing game of who can be trusted the whole time this shit has been here. An hour ago I found out just exactly who is coming to pick it up. I was worried before. Now I'm fucking scared."
The sound of a diesel engine slowing down interrupted them. A red tractor-trailer began turning in.
Roper groaned. "Oh shit. He's here."
The truck stopped and the driver dismounted to open the trailer doors then backed up to the dock and made hiss way to them.
Sanchez felt like he was being sized up by an old rattlesnake when the man in red leather walked up the steps of the dock to join them.
"Agent Jake Roper." The man in red growled with a smile and held out a clipboard. "I'm here to pick up."
Roper didn't like the guy. He knew the man was a border-line psycho, but the higher-ups wanted him. The load was already compromised. No need to be sneaky, the second the coke moved an inch, everybody and their connection would know.
"Load him up!" Roper told the man sitting on a forklift.
Sanchez watched as the man in red stood casually then produce a coin and began to tumble it across his gloved fingers. After two pallets were loaded, he found it strange. The driver wasn't even counting the kilos of cocaine. He barely seemed to pay attention to the pallets either.
"Everybody is obsessed with that shit. You aren't even counting it. Why?" Sanchez asked.
Faust looked over and smiled. "Because I don't care about it."
Ron Sanchez could tell just by looking into the man's eyes. He didn't care if the dope was all there or not. He wanted something else. The man was using the dope as bait.
"Ron. If that load is short, I'm the one at fault. Not him." Jake said as he was watching the next pallet go inside the truck.
"Es esto loco o simplemente estupido?" Sanchez asked quietly to no one, if this was crazy or just stupid.
Faust heard and laughed. "Somebody will be finding out, REAL soon."
Suddenly as the next pallet was driven in Faust stood at the opening of the truck and stopped the forklift from coming back out.
"Ingles, Espanol?" Faust asked.
The man answered. "I speak English. Why?"
Faust pointed into the trailer. "Good. Now go back and get it. Bring it to me."
"I don't." The man started to say, then ducked as the single pistol shot clanged off the support beam in front of him. "SHIT!"
The coin began to tumble over Faust's fingers again then he held it up. "To save time, I'll buy it."
The forklift driver knew he had been found out. With his hands now up, he slowly walked back and pulled the transmitter from the pallet. Faust gave him the coin and took the tracking device.
"Your ass is grass." Roper said.
Faust waved him off. "Finish loading the truck. A deal is a deal. When he calls in he can tell them its me. You know who I am now, don't you?"
After looking at the coin he slowly nodded his head and said in Spanish. "El Chófer del Diablo."
The Devil's driver. The coin had revealed it.
Faust leaned in close and almost purred. "What else are you willing to sell?"
Quickly he shook his head. Now that he knew exactly who stood in front him, he wanted nothing to do with him.
"No? Just load the truck?" Faust asked and when the man nodded he replied. "How disappointing. Load the truck, you have a tip-off to call in."
Roper watched and kept count as the forklift resumed loading. When he was done, Faust beckoned him down then spoke quietly. Roper became more and more unnerved as Faust smiled as he spoke. With the look of a man about to give the order to his own firing squad, the forklift operator took out his cellphone and made a call. After he disconnected, Faust chuckled and patted him on the back.
Roper signed off the manifest and handed the clipboard to Faust. "That's all of it."
Faust signed then tore out the yellow copy. "If you say so. Time for a bit of fun."
"I'm not going to ask. I don't want to know." Roper remarked.
"You don't? That's surprising. Enrique himself is coming." Faust snickered. "I feel generous; I'll leave you a piece Roper."
Roper's eyes widened as a second coin suddenly tumbled across Faust's fingers then offered. "I could offer you a DEAL."
Slowly the DEA Agent reached for the coin. "What do you want?"
"Your undivided attention for a few minutes." Faust leered.
Roper took the coin. "Done."
Faust chuckled. "Don't waste a second."
Roper stared at the man in front of him. A man with a reputation of being pure evil. Sadistic delight danced in his eyes. Roper could hear someone leave to go back into the building and after a couple of minutes, a loud noise. As if something had been dropped.
Finally Faust turned around to leave. "A bargain, the BEST I ever had."
After he left, Roper turned to look. The forklift driver had hung himself from a set of warehouse shelving with an extension cord. There was no need to call paramedics. He could tell from the angle of the man's neck, it was broken. He chose suicide over jail. Considering his character and actions, it was the better of his options.
Sanchez had watched in horror as the whole thing unfolded. He now turned to Roper. "Now we can't get anything from him."
Roper shook his head. "He didn't have anything to give than what he did. He wouldn't have lasted an hour in a cell anyway. Let's go. We're about to see something worse than what Santa Anna wanted at the Alamo."
Faust had a five minute lead and it was increasing. Normally it would be insane to go where the hijacker expected a truck to be. Even more so to make sure they would be getting there in enough time to set up. Faust knew they would be exactly there. They didn't know who he was though, but definitely heard his voice. Especially the tone of it. He had practically challenged them to come. Machismo dictated such an insult had to be met.
Enrique Ventura was beyond angry. First the Border Patrol had discovered the safe house of his cocaine, then seized it and now the informant at the warehouse had been caught. What really burned was the fact that the driver of the truck had openly challenged him, personally, to try taking it back.
"Enrique." A man with a MAC-10 called. "We'll be ready in a couple of minutes."
Enrique snarled. "Hurry up Benito. VAMOS!"
The sound of airhorn caught all their attention. A red truck and trailer was now bearing down on them.
"Is that him?" Benito asked.
Enrique didn't get the chance to answer. Amplified laughter came from the truck as black smoke began to pour from its stacks, the engine roared.
"Este tipo esta loco?" One of the men asked loudly if the driver was crazy.
"Mierda no! Es el chofer! EL CHOFER DEL DIABLO!" One of the men announced.
Several began to shake their heads and start moving away. They now knew who they were facing. The Devil's driver.
Enrique yelled. "TIRAR AHORA! MUERTE TODOS INICIAR TIRO!"
Enraged at his men frozen in fear, Enrique ran out into the middle of the highway and started shooting. The nine millimeter bullets bounced harmlessly away, of the ones that actually hit.
Faust had spotted them in the distance and began playing Mother by Danzig. When he saw them moving around, he knew they had figured out it was him. That's when he switched on the speakers and began to laugh. It only amused him more when the first bullet ricocheted off his truck. The expensive clothing was the give-away. Enrique himself had mustered enough anger or courage to stand and fight. Faust down-shifted and stomped the pedal down. The higher compression from the lower gear served his purpose.
"Un trato es un trato, Enrique." Faust announced then thumbed the switch on the back of the gear shift.
Enrique was now frozen in his own terror as the big red truck bore down. The the drive spoke, a deal is a deal, as flames leaped from both the rig's stacks. Then he was punched backward from the truck's nose. He didn't even hit the ground when it sped up to literally catch and hold him against its grill then plow through the cars in the way. One dragged him down and under the truck.
The men watched in horror as single coin bounced on the road then slowly stop spinning to rest by Enrique's dead hand. They barely saw it when the police cars screeched to a stop. Roper was with them and looked down at the mangled body.
Sanchez saw the coin. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Yeah. A deal's a deal." Roper nodded.
Behind them, men struggled as they were forced into the squad cars. All of them screaming about a truck from Hell, driven by the Devil, laughing as it ran Enrique down.
"Roper. Just exactly who was that guy?" Sanchez asked.
Roper sighed as he felt the coin he had been given. For some reason, it felt like it was burning his hand. "Faust."
"Faust? Like the guy that made the deal with the Devil?" Sanchez looked over.
"Look around." Roper replied then started walking back to car. "What do you think? Could an ordinary man do this? ALL this?"
Sanchez began follow. "No. A crazy one might try."
Faust continued on. Things were fine until night fell and he was approaching Beaumont, Texas. A Highway Patrol unit came along side.
"Attention driver. If you are who I think you are, don't worry. I won't try to stop you." The Highway Patrolman called out over the CB, channel 19.
Faust slipped his helmet back on, just in case and answered. "Oh?"
"Up ahead is a problem. The road is being blocked. A protest group of white supremacists. It's the Klan. They've tied up all Eastbound lanes. Can I ask that you re-route around them?" The patrolman asked.
Faust chuckled. "My speed can't drop now. The explosives will go off to prevent my load from being taken."
The Patrolman was shocked. "EXPLOSIVES? HOW BIG WOULD THE BLAST BE?"
"Sixty pounds of Semtex will be really interesting." Faust now laughed.
In the car, the Patrolman called over his radio to the units trying to clear the protest group and its opposition. "ALL UNITS! ALL UNITS! CLEAR THE HIGHWAY! THE TRUCK COMING IS NOT ALLOWED TO STOP! CLEAR THE FUCKING AREA OF CIVILIANS! ITS BOOBY-TRAPPED IN CASE IT STOPS!"
That was all the Sheriff's deputies and Highway Patrol needed to hear. They immediately began forcing people to the sides. The angry protesters wanted to go back in to continue challenging the men garbed in white robes and quasi-Nazi uniforms spewing slurs against minorities.
The Sheriff himself went in front of that group. "You have to clear these lanes of traffic. Now."
"That badge doesn't change your color, Nigger! You don't tell a proud WHITE man what to do!" The leader of the faction declared.
"Its your funeral if you don't. I can't stop what's coming. Nobody can." Sheriff Darnelle Jones stated then walked away.
Again the derogatory slurs began to go out over bullhorns. It all stooped when the sound a roaring diesel engine could be heard as its headlights cut through the darkness and smoke of a burning cross.
Faust began laughing as the song recommended by his mechanic Monkey began to play again. Nick Nolan's Life Of Sin was becoming a favorite. the speakers outside were switched on and his laughter rang out.
"Fools and their souls are soon parted." Faust announced then switched his lights.
The truck's headlights cut off. From beneath and behind the cab red lights came on, giving the red Peterbilt a hellish glow.
"STAND YOUR GROUND! WE ARE WHITE AND RIGHT!" The white garbed leader called out to his group.
Faust bore down on them then down-shifted. The Caterpillar engine screamed in protest, building compression. As the truck plowed into the now fear-filled group trying to hold the straight-arm Nazi salute, flames erupted from the twin stacks.
Faust called out, laughing. "IT WAS ME ALONE WHO CHOSE, A LIFE OF SIN!"
Screams came from all sides as the truck plowed through, even the burning cross fell to its impact. The truck never slowed, only crushed that in its way underneath. Everyone had been too shocked to try even taking video, much less a picture of it. They all thought the driver would suddenly screech to a stop or the group would jump out of the way. They were all wrong.
On the other side, Faust switched back to regular lights. The song ended. His speakers off he sang along with the next song.
"OUTLAW JUSTICE! TROUBLE'S GONNA COME! OUTLAW JUSTICE! DEVIL'S ON THE RUN! CATCH ME IF YA CAN!" Faust sang.
He was really starting to get into the Dark Country albums. Through the night he rolled on, heading for New Orleans without further event.
Trip and Fly-by had stopped at the Pilot in Atlanta to sleep and eat just after noon. They woke up at ten that night to eat again and refuel then drove out to the Hot-Zone. Two highway patrol cars were sitting at the gate as they pulled in. After they were checked, the trucks were directed inside the compound. A man standing by a small 'yard truck' guided them into a side-by-side parking formation.
He then cranked down the landing gear then unlatched the fifth-wheels. Trip and Fly-by pulled forward, dropping their trailers and clearing the way. The 'yard truck' hooked up to Fly-by's trailer and after the landing gear was retracted, he drove inside a large building.
"So what do we do now?" Fly-by asked over the secure radio.
Trip answered back. "We wait. The trailers are being loaded in a controlled environment. negative air pressure and stable temperature. They'll DeCon the trailers on the way back to us. Try to get in another nap, it's gonna be awhile."
The 'yard truck' came back and took Trip's trailer. Two and half hours later both trucks were knocked on to wake them. Both drivers climbed down and met a man in a suit.
"Forester." Trip greeted him.
Alan Forester nodded. "Nice to see you Trip. The trailer's are loaded and almost finished with DeCon. Here's the manifests. You know the drill, Don't pen the trailers once you set your locks. Maintain constant temperature at all times. You have a fifty-two hour window of transport. Georgia State Patrol will get you out of Atlanta. After that, you're on your own, as usual. Anything?"
"Standard fail-safe?" Trip asked,
Forester nodded. "Without the code, the thermite package will incinerate the entire trailer in three seconds."
Trip nodded. "Copy that. That's it then."
"Ok. Hook up and roll. That's it. You already know the rest. Be careful, this is a Level Black 8. This agent is lethal within three hours of contact. It isn't pretty."
Fly-by asked what was on mind, though he really didn't want to know. "What's it do?"
"It hits hard and fast. First is a shortness of breath accompanied by a feeling of fluid inside the lungs within thirty minutes. That's because you're bleeding into them. The blood then also begins to evacuate via nasal, ears, eyes. Rectal and urethral bleeding as well along with bladder and bowel failure. Major organ failure within the next forty-five minutes to an hour. Major muscles also begin to deteriorate. That's when your brain starts to melt." Forester explained flatly.
Fly-by shook his head to try clearing the mental image the description had given him. "Jesus H-fuckin' Christ!"
"Now you're going think every little thing might be exposure. Never ask what the shit does, dumb-ass." Trip remarked. "It'll kill you, that's enough to know."
Forester patted Fly-by's shoulder. "Even if all goes well, you'll still get checked out before leaving the Fortress. Ok?"
"Ok Doc." Fly-by said, sounding a little more relaxed.
Trip saw the 'yard truck' coming back with Fly-by's trailer. "Get ready. Here they come."
Fly-by looked and headed for his truck. "I'll follow your lead."
Both got back in their trucks and waited. Fly-by backed up and hooked to his trailer and waited while the lines and cables were attached. Trip's trailer was brought out next and she hooked up. They put on their helmets and she rolled out first. Fly-by fell in right behind her. The gate guard waved them on through as the patrol cars pulled out in front. With their lights on, the Georgia Patrolmen led the way to the 285 loop. They merged onto the interstate circle and took the far outside lanes.
"Got any good driving music for this?" Fly-by asked over their secure radio.
Trip opened the channel and pulled up Orange Crush by REM. Soon she was edging 85 miles per hour and starting to crowd the patrol cars.
Fly-by felt good. "are they going to drag ass ALL the way around this damned thing?"
"Who cares. Fall back and drop the hammer. I'll take point." Trip called back then did just that.
The big grey Kenworth eased back then drifted over two lanes and roared to life as the bulk of lights went off.
"Go dark. We're outta here." Trip instructed.
Fly-by followed suit and switched off the bulk of his lights and trod on the accelerator. He stayed hot on her trailer as they began to move through higher gears and screamed past the two bewildered patrol cars. when the song ended, Fly-by called out for a repeat playing. It was the perfect music for the current setting. When both trucks were exceeding 120 the two patrol cars were failing to stay with them and were left as the trucks continued to gain speed.
The two trucks moved through the light traffic in tandem like Sidewinder snakes on hard-pack ground. Trip occasionally flashed her headlights to clear a lane. In no time at all they slowed enough to make a high speed coast of the merge to Interstate 20 then geared up again. Motorists in cars and trucks were startled when the two ghost-like rigs suddenly blasted by them and were gone in seconds. Several CB-ers complained, but were met with silence instead of response.
"BREAK 19! DAMN DRIVER! You wanna back them trucks down? Almost blew me off the damn road!" One CB-er called out. When there was no response he warned all listening. "Ya'll look out. Two crazy-assed drivers are Westbound outta Hot-lanta like their asses're on fire and their heads're catchin'!"
He then called out the mile marker he was at and guessed as to theirs. Trip and Fly-by heard, but ignored the conversation and stayed in the far left lane as their speed topped out. Just above 135 for Trip and 132 for Fly-by. As the traffic thinned out to sporadic she switched on her ground radar. It was the secret to her success. Only her truck and Fly-by's had it as they could reach the highest speeds of the whole group.
Just about all the truckers within a hundred miles had soon heard the warning over the channel and many were not surprised when suddenly the scale stations went into by-pass. Within minutes they saw the reason why. Two rigs running together in almost total black-out screamed past and disappeared just as fast as they came.
"HOLY SHIT, SABER! Did you see THAT?" a driver on the out ramp called out over the radio.
Saber replied. "Nope, Rookie. Didn't see a thing. You must be tired, eyes playing tricks on you. NOTHING there."
Several other drivers echoed the statement, they saw nothing.
Trip heard the exchange and smirk then switched songs to that one Faust had played a while back. Take Me Down by The Pretty Reckless. It wasn't bad.
"OH I LIKE THIS! WOOOOO!" Fly-by called out and let his racing groove settle over him.
For the racer, this just became his kind of run. He knew he wouldn't be able to pass Trip-9, but it was fun to just draft behind, as if waiting for a chance to make his move to steal the lap and flag. They both had twin 85 gallon tanks, but the high speeds they were running at would drink the tanks down fast. Just over the Louisiana line, they pulled in at a small station that was just opening and took on fuel. The mom and pop station could only serve one truck at the time so they made use of it going to restroom. Fly-by took care of his needs while she refueled then Trip did the same as he refueled.
Trip pulled out and led the way back onto the highway as the first rays of sunlight started to stain the sky.
"We'll take Dallas and refuel again to run for line. Stop in Kansas to sleep. Can you handle it?" Trip asked.
Fly-by felt as revved as his truck. "Romp on it Trip, I'm on you. I got the tune."
He set to broadcast and brought up Godsmack with Straight Out Of Line. It was a hard, heavy hitting song. Just what they needed to hear as they came up to speed. They passed through the towns along the way and had to slow down due to the morning traffic. Instead of the usual four and a half hours a normal person needed, it only took them three. He kept the hard hitting music going until they stopped outside Dallas. Both knew this was where their run would slow down.
As Trip-9 pulled out after refueling Jodi called out. "We have to chill until we get outside the outlying towns, then we can get on it again."
"No problem. I can hold back. You said we'd run to the Kansas line and break there, right?" Fly-by asked.
Trip replied. "10-4."
She kept their speed around 75 miles per hour as they wound around Dallas. Several times the traffic opened up enough to let them bump up to over 80 but it wouldn't last long. Typical traffic for such a big city. It would have been safer to wait until close to midnight. That wasn't an option, too much could go wrong and she didn't want to linger in an area for too long. When the ramps for Interstate 35 came into view they sprinted for it and to the Northbound ramp. From there they would stay running North into Oklahoma. Once clear of the suburbs of Dallas the traffic thinned out enough to resume higher speeds. Both trucks accelerated to over 100 miles per hour and maintain it until deep into Oklahoma. Another refuel stop and they ran all the way to Kansas before stopping to refuel. At an old closed down station they backed the trailers together and took a sleep break.
Fly-by shifted around in the seat to get comfortable enough then slept for four hours. When he woke from the chirping of the secure radio he groaned.
"How the hell do you get used to that, Trip?" Fly-by asked.
Trip answered casually. "Practice."
Fly-by shook his head in disbelief. There had been no trace of fatigue at all in her voice. Quickly they performed a walk-around of their trucks and verified they were ready. The two trucks pulled out as the sun was setting. Trip knew the refuel point was within thirty minutes of driving but would only be open for another hour. Normal truck lines would have teams of drivers for runs like this. The nature of the load prevented it. Far safer to only risk two highly paid drivers with no dependents than two teams that usually had families requiring benefits.
That had always been Troy Montaine's hole-card. His drivers had only themselves to lose and thought it was a fair trade in accordance to their personalities. They loved the risk. He didn't want the kind that would risk racing a train to a crossing hauling explosives, he hired the one that always won, because it was the only way they felt alive. A driver that would weld a bulldozer blade to the front of their truck to charge down Donner Pass in a blizzard. Crazy enough to take a challenge, but skilled enough to pull it off. That was the hallmark of Phantom Lines.
Fly-by stuck to Trip's tail-lights as she pushed past 130 again. He had finally felt re-energized after the refuel. A chance to eat and get coffee, he was good to run again. The traffic was light at night and they were running black-out as usual, aided by ground radar. Soon they were on Interstate 70 heading for Colorado. That would be the most difficult leg of the run, Colorado was just as strict on truckers as California and in some case, even harder.
As they crossed the state line, Trip called out. "Colorado. All go-no quit now. Stay on me back there."
Fly-by laughed. "Sure you don't want me to lead?"
"You know the road that good?" Trip asked, already knowing the answer.
"Ya got me. No, I don't. You know this run better than anybody. I'm on you." Fly-by chuckled.
He knew Colorado was an unforgiving state. The roads would curve and plunge without much warning. Even more so if going at high speed. Trip knew the run so well, she could do it almost blind. That was how many she had made. By noon the next day they were finally crossing into Utah. At Salina they jumped off the Interstate onto a State highway big enough to handle their transition to InterState 15 to run up to Salt Lake, but turned off at Santaquin onto state highways. Trip explained it was a more direct route. Direct, but slower and less populated. It was getting harder for Fly-by to stay sharp, but Trip was easily finding ways to keep him engaged and alert. As night fell he saw the first sign. U.S.Army Dugway Proving Grounds. Under that was Skull Valley Reservation.
"Fly-by." Trip called out.
Feeling the miles like never before, Fly-by answered. "Yeah?"
"Back it down. Taking the next left. We'll be there in an hour." Trip informed him.
Fly-by sighed. "Thank FUCKING God! How the hell do you do this?"
"My Give-a-fuck broke in Baghdad. Never got it fixed. Turning." Trip replied.
Both trucks turned onto a narrow black-top road and followed it for twenty minutes. She had kept their speed down enough to not alarm the gate guards. They stopped and were inspected then waved through. Over half an hour later as the first rays of sunlight hit, a large building surrounded by a fence loomed ahead. Another set of guards inspected the trucks and waved them in. An Army Sergeant waved them to a side-by-side parking position then checked over the manifests and unhooked the trailers.
Two Army trucks came over and hooked up to the trailers and took them away while the Sergeant climbed up to stand on the side of Trip-9 and direct her. The trucks were parked and the Sergeant waved for them to follow him inside a smaller building.
"Check and clear your weapons. Clothing goes in here and go through that door." The Sergeant instructed then left.
Trip did as instructed and took her time, letting Fly-by go through first. They would be checked over for any exposure. The final stop was a set of showers. Two sets of Army sweats waited for them. There were M.R.E.s waiting for them and two beds. They were informed they would be kept there for at least twelve hours. When Fly-by finally woke up, it had been almost sixteen hours.
"Wow. I feel like I been beat with a tie-down bar." Fly-by stated, sitting up.
Trip was stamping her foot into a boot, their clothing had been returned during their sleep. "Better than the alternative. We can get dressed now."
Fly-by eagerly began to get back into his own clothing. It looked much like his racing suit.
A door opened and pleasant looking woman came in. "I see you're both awake now."
Trip immediately saluted. "Captain Hill."
The Captain smiled and returned the salute. "As you were. How do you feel?"
"Ready to go, Ma'am." Trip replied. "What's the word?"
"You're both clear, Trip. Mister Fly-by, there's nothing to worry about. Neither of you were exposed. You're fit to leave." Captain Hill stated.
Fly-by laughed. "Ain't gotta tell me twice!"
Captain Hill smiled. "Like I've never heard that before. Right this way, Sergeant Devon will see you out."
They followed her down a hallway then were buzzed through door and met the Sergeant who had brought them in.
"Your trucks and trailers are finished with DeCon. Follow me." He led them to an exit with another door by it. "Specialist Winslow, their weapons."
The soldier in the room nodded. He came back with their pistols and rifles. "Verify arms and sign out."
Trip went first and checked her weapons then signed for them. Fly-by did the same and they followed the Sergeant outside. He led them to their trucks that sat parked in the large lot.
"You're fully fueled and ready to go." The Sergeant informed them.
Quickly they made a a walk-around then climbed into the cabs. Minutes later they were rolling through the gates. An hour later they were approaching the main road.
"If you want, you can bail off and got to Salt Lake to stop for a while. I'm heading straight back." Trip called out over their secure radio.
"Sounds good to me. See you back at the terminal in three days." Fly-by replied and signed off.
In the back of his mind, he wondered exactly what had been in the trailer. He just couldn't see using such big trucks to carry flasks and petri-dishes.
In her own truck, Trip was glad Fly-by hadn't asked any details. Fly-by wouldn't have been able to do so well had he known inside the trailer had been ten capsules containing a human corpse. Very few knew that some of the bodies donated for medical research would be used in such fashion. There was no way to restart a brain, but many of the other functions could be restarted with mechanical means and simulate a live body. One that could host disease. Kept at a critical temperature and using machines to circulate blood and even breathe, a body could fool pathogens into behaving as they would inside a real living person.
The only other method was using animals such as primates or pigs as test subjects. That was where real risk came in. The diseased animals had a habit of being uncooperative, even attacking the researchers and infecting them. Trip knew that by the time they had both returned to Phantom's terminal, the Army and DARPA researchers would be working to synthesize a serum to combat the pathogen. A serum that would then be stockpiled in case of an outbreak.
Trip sat down in the salon chair.
"So Jodi. You have great length now, don't tell me you want it all gone?" The stylist asked.
Trip shook her head. "No Stacy. I want something different though. A color maybe."
Stacy nodded and smiled. "Color is good. What do you want to do?"
Trip held up her jacket, a dark grey color. "Match this."
"You're nuts." Stacy remarked.
Trip tossed the jacket into another chair. "Make it happen Stace."
"Ok." Stacy said. "I still think you're nuts. Who wants grey hair on purpose? Platinum blonde, sure, but actual grey? It's your hair. I'll do it if you want."
Trip sat back and watched as Stacy began mixing the color then drape a cape over her. when the brush began to apply the color, Trip smirked at her own reflection.
Well the oldest back burner project is NOW released for sale on Amazon only. This is not a transgender fiction. Actually it's a mainstream sci-fi romance. Click on the image to buy from Amazon. BTW, BigCloset gets 50% of the royalties on this.
Just to tease and torture, here is a snippet from the book:
"This way Sanderson," she prompted him then led the way down to the last session room directing him inside.
The other session rooms along the way had been empty. It also looked like most of the staff had taken lunch late. In the window, he saw only four people. Two techs running the equipment, the instructor and the Director herself.
'So this is what was meant by private,' he thought to himself.
"Sanderson, Dylan. Session One. Go ahead and sensor up," a technician announced into the room.
Dylan strapped on the head, chest and wrist bands.
"We're running. Anytime you're ready Sanderson." The tech announced.
Dylan looked at the array of lights. He knew what to do. He started to open his mouth, but couldn't think of a song, instead his mind filled with the image of sitting outside the smoke billowing S.P.A.R.C.L.S. unit holding Tabitha in his arms as convulsions wracked her body. Minutes passed until he pulled the sensor straps off and began to walk to the door.
"Everybody out. Clear the observation room." The Director said with the mic open.
Dylan stopped with his hand on the latch.
"Sanderson wait. Come to the window please," the Director said.
Dylan walked over and watched as she switched off everything then opened a small partition to be heard. "Everything is off. no audio or video or sensory. This is just between you and I. I'm vaguely aware of what happened at Northern, but I have to see for myself. Show me Sanderson. Show me what you can do."
Dylan turned around and took the mirrorshades off walking toward the wall of lights. Once again he put on the sensors.
After a few tense moments, he softly began, "Stood still, on a highway. I saw a woman, by the side of the road. With a face that I knew, like my own. Reflected, in my window. Well she walked up to my quarter-light, and she bent down, real slow. A fearful pressure, paralyzed me, in my shadow."
Charlotte watched and heard as the pain-filled voice hesitantly became clearer and certain lights came to life.
Dylan continued on. The Director had heard many songs over the years, including some sung just for her, but never had she heard a song like this. Filled with anguish, regret and self-hatred. The lights continued to flash and pulse as power flowed from him with intensity; some were designed to only light from high levels of a Generator's power. The way so many of the lights were flashing and staying lit she began to think that he may very well be able to light each one.
Dylan's voice became louder, clearer as he broke the disuse and reached his natural level. Charlotte Winsom had covered her mouth with her hand when he turned around. The mirrorshades gone, she now saw. Raw power pouring forth reflected in his eyes from pain, self-hatred and loss. Grief, in its purest form, powered his voice as a glow began to envelope him. Louder and clearer Dylan sang. The waves of power could actually be seen coming off of him as he sang making every light in the session bright, along with a few in the control room as well. He'd built up intensity and still there was more as he sang.
She saw several lights had flickered as they burnt out and others had cracked or shattered. A few exploded outright. Now she understood. His raw power had truly been more than could be withstood. That fool of a Channeler had wanted it, and like a loyal lover, he'd given it. They'd made no mention of his actual strength and no record of insignia for awards. They'd even gone so far as to disable his shoulder tabs which would have recorded his highest output of power before sending him.
She knew why as well. No Channeler could have resisted such a blatant show of power. Not that any could handle it. She herself was a Channeler and still kept up her certification, but did not doubt that Dylan Sanderson, at only sixteen, would easily fry her out like he did a girl at Northern. He trailed off sinking to his knees. Her heart broke for the boy and Charlotte did all she could not to show the tears that threatened to cascade.
In a shaking voice, she said through the porthole, "Th-thank you Dylan. I'm so sorry. She had to have been so proud to have you."
Silent sobs wracked him inside the session room.
"Take all the time you want. Nobody will bother you. I promise," she said gently then closed the partition.
If you do buy and enjoy, please leave a review.
And don't forget Alecia Snowfall's other DopplerPress books also on Kindle!
Two years ago I was given a notecard with a version of this. I went looking for the original but found this. I'll post it now.
I looked all about
a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire,
just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kind
A sobering thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier,
once I could see clearly.
I heard stories about them,
and I had to see more
So I walked down the hall
and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping
silent and alone,
Curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
His face so gentle,
his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
a United States soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho,
the floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven,
his weathered face tan,
I soon understood
this was more than a man.
For I realized the families
that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men
who were willing to fight.
Soon 'round the world,
children would play,
And grownups would celebrate
a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
Because of soldiers
like this one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve
in a land far from home.
Just the very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
no more can be asked,
my life is duty, honor and comrades."
With that he rolled over
and drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours,
so silent and still,
I noticed he shivered
from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket,
the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier
from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt
of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch
embroidered on back.
And although it barely fit me,
I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment,
I was United States Army deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him
on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
"Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day,
all is secure."
One look at my watch,
and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend,
and to all a good night!
Shawna Davies- Ghost Moth: She works within the shadows of other agencies.
Krystel Evanson- Iron Dolphin: she is an electronic specialist, bringing new dimensions to Cyber-Warfare.
Tiffany Davareaux- Steel Dove: plain sight Operator. She is slotted to take the position Lyssa has made.
All three have been trained in the deadly arts of black operations. Now they are slowly being turned loose upon the threats of the word.
The Chrysalis Project: Ghost Moth
Training is over. Now her mission is to move within the shadows of agencies. The Ghost Moth flies on her own WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan sat reading the email report from the detention center. Since being captured in Alaska all the terrorists had done nothing but prayer constantly. any attempts to interrogate them made them shut down.
He buzzed Madison,"Madison. Get me General Hollander please. Use the Duncan identity."
several minutes later his phone rang,"General?"
"What can I do for you Major Duncan," the General asked.
Dannigan answered, "Reading the reports about the new arrivals Sir. I have somebody I'd like to send in. This wouldn't be an interrogation; It'll be an information extraction Sir."
" I understand Major. Before I can allow this I'll need authorization," General Hollander replied.
"Texas Vermilion," Dannigan answered.
A moment later the General came back on the line, "authorization verified Major. Who do we expect?"
"Agent Caldwell, NSA, Sir," Dannigan replied.
"Very well. We'll have the subjects ready tomorrow," the General signed off.
Dannigan buzzed Madison again, "Madison?"
"Yes Major," Madison replied.
Dannigan sighed, "good. Bring up tasking for Shawna Davies. She's to proceed to Sanctuary. She'll be met at the airfield in Alamogordo, New Mexico. She'll need the Susan Caldwell NSA credentials."
"Yes Sir," Madison replied and pulled up the message screen for Kimberly.
She sent out the packet with the message, 'Ghost Moth now active."
She closed the message window whispering to herself, "good luck Shawna. Its the real deal so go get 'em."
General Hollander stared carefully at the dark haired woman sitting across from him. Late twenties or early thirties with high cheekbones. It was her hair that caught his eye. It wasn't just dark, it was like a raven's wing. Black with a flash of blue within. Her complexion was a bit off though, instead of the characteristic porcelain doll face; she had a tint of tan to it but it was hard to tell as she wore make-up. Make-up that looked applied by a professional. The hint of perfume was subtle, neither overly floral nor musky. All in all, Agent Susan Caldwell didn't over or underplay her feminine attributes. She was an attractive woman and that was that. A black skirt suit with jewel blue blouse and though she wore high heels they weren't the sky high type or platforms that most women wore these days. All that implied she was indeed a professional. The non-standard issue Desert Eagle ten millimeter dropped the hammer on the fact that she wasn't an administration type. Agent Caldwell was a field agent, commonly referred to as 'Men in Black'. The only thing missing was the cliche' sunglasses.
"Is there a problem with my documentation General, Sir," she asked in a voice that was neither husky nor sweet.
The General looked back at the file and its forms of authority to interrogate the prisoners utilizing conventional and unconventional techniques, including chemical and physical methods.
Hollander looked back up, "I'm a bit old fashioned Agent Caldwell. I still believe we're the good guys and look good wearing white hats."
Agent Caldwell didn't smile nor frown, "nothing wrong with that General. We are the good guys. As for the white hats; well some people wear hats better than others, Sir."
Hollander found her attitude quite different from most agents. CIA and DIA along with several others tended to puff out their chests, speak loudly and try to sport a menacing glare. She didn't. Agent Caldwell didn't seem to be put off by anything and didn't want to flaunt authority or bully. She was there and had a task to perform. She hadn't requested a translator or any other personnel in fact. She definitely had a very military bearing and was respectful as if second nature to be dealing with men of the military. Caldwell didn't have to threaten, intimidate or coerce. She was supposed to be there and all that needed to know that, did.
"General, if there's a problem I'm sure a quick call will sort it out Sir," She said matter-of-factly.
Hollander gave into the feeling and replied while passing back the file, "no need Agent Caldwell. Everything looks to be in order here."
She stood, almost as if at attention causing him to sit straighter and expect a salute.
"I'll do my best to make the most of my time here, Sir. I have only two, maybe three days before he and his 'associates' are to be transported to Moscow," She said in a business-like tone.
"Very well. Carry on, uh, Agent Caldwell," the General caught himself about to try applying a rank to a civilian.
"Sir," the Agent stood a bit straighter then turned and walked out.
Then General went back to his other paperwork, "female or not, why can't more agents be more professional like her? CIA has too many damned civilians. At least the NSA gets former military."
Shawna had changed and now walked down the hall following the sergeant in black BDU's.
He stopped at a door and opened it for her, "Ma'am. As you requested, no observation. No video or audio monitoring. A pair of guards outside the door but otherwise you'll be on your own Ma'am. And yes, you do have cellular service."
Shawna nodded, "thank you Sergeant. I'm ready. When will the first prisoner be brought in?"
"Right away Ma'am," the sergeant replied.
With a quick step to attention he then went to bring up the prisoner. Shawna walked into the room and looked around, a table and two chairs. Another chair sat alone bolted to the floor and two chains hung down from the ceiling. She slipped something from her purse. A very small electronic bug detector, she flicked it on and two red lights came on. The sergeant hadn't told the truth about the audio and video surveillance. It was there and on. That was ok, they'd soon regret having it on. Shawna had already changed from the skirt-suit and heels into the form fitted battle-suit and boots, similar to Lyssa's and strapped on her pistol and the Fairbarne-Applegate Tactical knife to the back of her thigh. She stood patiently waiting. Minutes later the door opened and two soldiers dragged in Palo and sat him in the solitary chair and cuffed him to it.
"Two more," Shawna said casually and nodded to the chains.
"Yes Ma'am," one of the soldiers snapped.
Several minutes later the two prisoners had been brought in one by one and cuffed to the chains.
Shawna stood in front of Palo, "There are things I would like to know. You'll be telling me."
"Allah be with me in this time as I endure the infidels' ways," Palo mumbled to himself in Chechen.
Shawna stepped closer and replied, "This is about to become the 'worse' you were told about. God is not with you, never was. You may as well pray to a garbage can for all the good it will do you. All of you."
All three began reciting from the Koran. Shawna walked over to the small zippered case on the table, loaded a syringe with the liquid and began injecting the two men secured to the chains. Within minutes both hung limp in the cuffs then began to shiver after sweating.
"Watch closely Palo," she said softly then approached them, "I'm your hostess. Welcome. To a place beyond Hell."
Both men saw her and began screaming. Palo looked and saw the sheer terror in their eyes. They begged and pleaded amid screams for her not to come closer but Shawna ignored them and began cutting away the orange one piece jumpsuits then she started skinning the one on the left at his elbows working her way toward his body. The floor, the other man and Shawna soon became flecked with blood from his tormented thrashing.
Shortly thereafter she began singing softly, "One of these mornings. won't be very long. you will look for me. and I'll be gone...."
Her voice became sweet and haunting. Palo closed his eyes and prayed more but he couldn't shut out the screams or the song. She had begun alternating between the two suspended men. blood covered the floor in small puddles. Palo looked up in time to see her turn, streaks of blood across her face.
The woman in black said, "don't worry. Your time is coming."
"Somebody get that cherry outta here," Agent Tom McDaniels commented rudely.
The CIA agent stood in the observation room. One of the soldiers running the monitoring equipment had vomited. There was no window into the room so they were watching a large plasma screen of the NSA agent systematically shred the terrorists to ribbons.
"Agent McDaniels, or whatever your name really is, if you disrespect any of my men again; I'll have you tied to a tree and used for paintball target practice. Naked," General Hollander said.
"I thought you said you didn't get into the whole torture business General," McDaniels commented.
"I don't; when people are involved," Hollander retorted casually.
"Oh I get it. Hahaha. Nice one General. Is that a jab at me personally or the Agency," The CIA officer asked.
Hollander turned and looked at him, "no difference at all. You're all a pack of hyenas. If there's no weak prey to victimize you're quite happy turning on each other."
"Hey I got no problem sitting back and watching chick there do her thing. Palo is about to crack any minute and I didn't have to do anything but wait and watch. I'll admit, her technique is startlingly effective and it was immediate too," McDaniels said smugly, "besides. The NSA is mostly tech-twerps; its nice to see they have people that actually do get their hands dirty."
From the speakers they heard Palo finally say, "I will tell you whatever you wish please kill them."
"OH HELL YEAH! PAY DAY!!!! Yahoooo cowgirl," McDaniels chuckled.
His happiness dropped to nothing as the screen and speakers suddenly filled with static. The soldiers began flipping switches and pressing buttons then finally sat back and shook their heads.
"What the fuck! Turn it back on," McDaniels bellowed.
"Sir you don't understand. Its not off," one of the soldiers said.
"Then what fuck is THIS," he demanded gesturing to the screen and speakers.
Hollander began to chuckle to himself.
"What's so funny there General," the agent asked sarcastically using the General's rank.
One by one the soldiers began laughing as well.
One remarked, "he didn't see it. That's funny."
Another commented, "blind as a bat CIA Asshole."
Finally one of the soldiers rolled back video and stopped it on a frame.
"Look close. What do you see," he asked.
McDaniels looked closer and saw something square and black on the table that she touched.
"What the hell is that," he demanded.
"Signal jammer you putz. She knew we were watching. dumbass," Hollander answered.
A moment later the video came back up. They watched as she drew her pistol and shot the two prisoners she'd been torturing.
"Better hope that what you told me is true Palo. I can always come back and ask you again. Like this," she said gesturing to the two mangled bodies.
"Allah as my witness, I have told you everything. The truth, I swear it," Palo said softly then asked, "will you kill me when you have done what you wish with the information?"
Shawna leaned in close, "you're a very bad man Palo. I think I'll keep you alive, a girl needs a hobby."
He sat in horror as she packed up the weapons and drug case then walked out.
"THAT BITCH!!!!!!! Find me that information he gave her! NOW DAMMIT," McDaniels demanded.
CHAPTER 2
Kimberly answered on the second ring, "Hangar. Go."
"Its me. I got everything, I think. Multiple strikes on Swiss controlled banks; Geneva, Monte Carlo and Vienna. What now," Shawna asked.
"Can you travel," Kimberly asked.
Shawna answered, "I'm clean enough to go on our planes."
"LoneStar is waiting at the terminal. Haul ass," Kimberly instructed.
Shawna disconnected and sent the video file to Kimberly. Within two hours she was arrived at the terminal and boarded the Lear.
"Strap in," The calm voice told her.
Shawna did and minutes later they took off.
"When we refuel in Atlanta we'll pick up Pete. Rodrick and Tiffany will go to Monte Carlo. Lyssa will be dropped off in Geneva. We get Vienna," LoneStar told her.
Shawna was startled at that, "Lyssa's going to Geneva alone?"
"Why not? She's worked alone for years. Until she hooked up with Rodrick for that Columbia job or after it," LoneStar said in his usual icy voice, "You're not cleared for working alone yet so you get chaperons. Just like Tiffany and Krystel do. Kimberly has Krystel in case you wondered and they stay put. No field work unless critical."
"Now that I think about it, it makes sense. I would have thought Lyssa would be with us and Pete with Rodrick and Tiff," she commented.
LoneStar shook his head, "No. Lyssa can operate alone and Rodrick is enough to go with Tiffany. Of the people in the field we three are the weakest links so we'll be together. That way there's coverage. Lyssa would only be slowed down by anybody but Rodrick. He can keep up with her for the most part and they have worked in tandem but she still prefers doing wet-work alone and now more than ever. She's supposed to be pregnant remember? She'll jump in and sneak out to a location where Rodrick and Tiffany can pick her up. No paparazzi, no events. Not even a footprint in the sand. Totally black."
"I get it now. I wonder if I'll ever work with her though," Shawna mused.
"pray you don't," LoneStar remarked, "Take the controls for a few minutes."
Shawna did and he slipped out of the pilot's seat, went to the back of the plane and returned a few minutes later.
"I got it," he said, "Go get cleaned up."
Shawna nodded and went back. A quick refuel in Dallas then another in Atlanta where they picked up Pete and then headed north to refuel in New York then over to London. Finally they arrived in Vienna Austria and took a rental to a house. LoneStar went in first then signaled for them to come in.
"Damn Lyssa has nice houses," LoneStar commented looking around.
"This is Lyssa's," Shawna asked amazed.
"Yeah. She's got houses all over the world. You didn't know," Pete asked.
LoneStar went into the hallway and opened a concealed panel to reveal a weapons locker filled with assault rifles, sub-machine guns, pistols, knives, explosives, ammunition and various other operational gear.
Shawna was impressed, "wow! When you said equipment would be available I thought a couple of pistols, an MP-7 at the most. Damn, we can launch major assaults with this locker."
Pete chuckled, "you thought Lyssa would leave us to fend for ourselves completely?"
"Yeah. Silly me," Shawna replied and began setting up her computer to begin planning with Pete and LoneStar.
Tom McDaniels ran out the front gate of the detention center dialing on his phone. As he settled into the rental car the call connected and was answered.
"4691."
Savagely he twisted the ignition, "Code in; Georgia Rains."
The voice answered back, "secure. one moment please."
A moment later another voice picked up, "Go Tom."
"Malcolm we got a problem. Some NSA bitch came in and wrung this asshole like you wouldn't believe then bailed without sharing. I finally got him talking again and its bad. These guys are gonna try to hit Swiss banks in Geneva, Vienna and Monte Carlo. All at the same time. I need fast transport to Vienna and a team on the ground waiting for me when I get there. Oh and find out everything you can about Susan Caldwell, NSA."
"Yeah, where do I start," the other end asked.
"Start with the S's; for sadistic bitch. She peeled two guys like they were oranges. Black hair, blue eyes, five-eight or nine-ish, about a buck twenty-ish. Late twenties early thirties, definitely ex-military. Interrogations. I'd start with the Army because she got along with the tin soldier down here," McDaniels replied sarcastically.
"Ok. So you want me to hack NSA and DOD. You want I should go for the postal service and the league of women voters too? Let's not miss anybody important if we're gonna piss people off," the voice on the other end remarked.
"Just find that bitch," McDaniels demanded and disconnected.
A glance at his watch told him she had a sixteen hour head-start. With any luck they'd still be planning when he and his team took down the cell. He used his credentials to bully his way onto an outbound flight heading east and by the time he got there the two connecting flights would be booked. No way was some tight ass in a skirt gonna snatch up his op. NSA or not.
Lyssa stood at the door of the Gulfstream waiting for Tiffany to open it so she could jump out. Rodrick had already depressurized the cabin and they were almost to the outskirts of Geneva. Lyssa was geared up in her battlesuit, full weapons load and her night High Altitude, High Opening jump rig. The dark grey HAHO chute would allow her to glide a long distance from the Drop Point to a Landing Zone. The LZ for her was a soccer field half a mile from the house she owned there. The plan was to get there and make it to the cell's location before dawn. Eliminate them all then sanitize the location. She'd exfiltrate to the border to be picked up using an old forgotten airstrip or make her way to Vienna if they needed help. The main goal of her operating alone was speed and stealth. By herself, she'd have no hindrances and no chance being seen. Within the hour she was inside the safe house and booting up her laptop. After linking up to Kimberly she received all the information there was and planned her incursion. In no time at all Lyssa was stealthily entering the cell's house.
One by one as they slept she made sure they'd never awaken then made it look like a team had stormed the house. She posed the bodies in a line in the main room and removed the index and thumb of the right hand of each along with a couple of teeth and left a large sheet of paper under one's head as if used for background to take pictures. Quickly she stripped away all vital electronic components; phones and computer motherboards and any paper that caught her eye then ransacked the house as if searching for hidden intelligence. CIA tradecraft. The she dropped an official business card; Thomas W. McDaniels- Central Intelligence Agency, Langley Virginia. Any investigators would have to work to find it so therefore they would believe it. She returned her SUV to the safehouse then went back for the cell's vehicle and used it to drive south. Lyssa crossed the mountains using a small road that barely qualified as that. There was a very small airfield just inside inside the border. It was for emergency use by U-2, A-12 spyplanes and later the vaunted SR-71 BlackBirds during the cold war but now long forgotten. Flying through that mountain pass blocked a plane's radar return for ten minutes. Plenty of time to land and pick her up.
CHAPTER 3
Tiffany heard the double click of Rodrick's mic and understood it to be the signal to make entry. Slowly she edged the window up and felt inside for hidden wires attached to noisemakers. There were none so she continued to raise the window and slither inside. A double click of her mic signaled her entrance. She had the second floor and he had the ground floor. Room by room they cleared the house silently using knives and suppressed pistol shots. They removed the rounds and collected their brass. Rodrick staged the scene as Tiffany stripped the electronics, neither spoke as they worked. When he was finished with the bodies he began up-ending furniture, pulling out drawers, and emptying cabinets then baring the shelves. Anyone looking at the place later on would definitely come to the conclusion that all had been done by a professional team working for a government, most likely the CIA or FSB. After a quick check of her work Rodrick nodded approval. They made their way out and back to the villa on the outskirts of Monte Carlo. Rodrick had landed with the story of needing a repair and use the down time to eat. They were gone a total of three hours. The Gulfstream had been serviced and refueled by the time they returned. In a matter of minutes they took off and headed back toward Switzerland.
"Sir. How do you both know about that airfield we're picking her up at," Tiffany asked.
Rodrick shrugged, "well the land was bought by the CIA and Army engineers built the strip. The story goes, back in the day, Christians In Action made up a bunch of shell companies all over Europe. They used those companies to establish covers and buy stuff like property and equipment and so on. The company they used for that place was given over to JSOC. It stays off the books so it can be used by Delta and DEVGRU. Lyssa was a DemonWraith so she's probably used it before. Don't forget those Nemesis guys. The nuke teams. They have to sneak in and deploy tactical nukes to wreck all lines in and around."
"That makes sense. Thank you Sir," Tiffany said.
Shawna crouched at the window carefully peering in. Pete had climbed up to the second floor while LoneStar was working entry on the other side of the house. Not seeing any anti-intrusion measures she worked the window up and felt inside. Attached to the corner of the window was a slim line.
"Spider-wire on window," she whispered into her mic.
Two double clicks returned. Carefully she used a paperclip to hook the line then cut it. Held by the make-shift hook the window was now free to be fully opened. Shawna looked inside more and saw the line ran not to a jumble of cans or similar noisemaker but to a pipe bomb.
"Shrapnel anti-intrusion," she whispered again then slithered into the room.
Moments later two double click followed then a triple click. Slowly and silently Shawna worked her way down the hallway clearing the rooms. Most were empty but one semi-dark room held one man asleep in front of a muted television tuned to a local weather and news station. In one quick move she clamped her hand over the sleeping man's mouth and nose with her left and jammed the Fairbarne-Applegate knife through the base of his skull into the brain with her right. It took only a second for him to die. As an afterthought she snapped his neck then moved on to the next room. At the end of the hall she met up with Pete as he descended the stairs and gave her a thumbs-up then flashed four fingers and gave the thumbs down sign four times. They both turned to search for LoneStar when he walked out of a doorway. He flashed them the thumbs up then two fingers then thumbed down twice.
Standing together Shawna whispered the plans, "Star grab every electronic; phones, computer mother boards. All means of communication and data storage. Pete get all the bodies into the main room into a line-up then start looking for any important papers in the house and don't be tidy. I'll take the index and thumb off the right hand of each plus a couple of teeth. Find me a big piece of blank paper or cardboard. Something to put under the heads for a backdrop for pictures."
Both men nodded and began the tasks. In ten minutes they had all there was and began slipping back out to the SUV. They walked into the house and began cleaning equipment and clothing. An hour later they were repacked and securing the house to leave.
McDaniels took the time of the layover in London to call the team in Vienna.
"We've got eyes on the house. A surveillance team just took position 15 minutes ago. All's quiet," the team leader informed him.
"Great. I want to be able to launch our assault the sooner the better, but I'll be leading it," McDaniels said with a tone of self satisfaction.
Two and a half hours later, as the sun was setting, he was met outside the Vienna airport and got into an SUV.
"Sir the house is still quiet. They must be under orders to lay low sir," the driver reported.
"All the better. Gives us more time to get in position but let's not dick around," McDaniels replied.
Half and hour later they arrived at a cluster of vehicles in a parking lot behind a store. Men in black pants and jackets with stocking caps tucked half into pockets stood as if in a planning meeting while weapons were checked.
McDaniels got out and walked over, "Better have your shit wired and ate Wheaties this morning."
"We're ready," a stocky built African-American man said.
Very quickly he briefed the agent of the assault plan. McDaniels grabbed a tactical vest and put on a large windbreaker to cover it then took the offered balaclava which he put on rolled to his brow so that he could just pull it down to cover his face. Five minutes after loading up they stopped in front and behind the house and quickly stormed the doors. The CIA case officer being the third in the front door stack and the team leader being the second in the back door stack moved quickly through the house after the doors were battered apart with a small one-man ram. They met no resistance. No enemy engagement. They soon found out why in the main room. The stormers looked in puzzlement at the line of dead bodies. McDaniel stood in shock.
Finally the team leader came down from the second floor, " Sir. Somebody went over this place with a fine tooth comb the same way we'd do it."
"Fingers, teeth, pictures. FUCK," McDaniels yelled then muttered to himself, "It couldn't be her. NSA would still be here and flaunting it, parading bodies past us. Or would have burnt the place to the ground to keep anybody from knowing."
Quickly he grabbed his phone and dialed in then secured the call.
"Ok. What do you got for me about that chick," McDaniels asked.
The voice on the other end sighed, "you're not gonna like it."
"Just tell me who that bitch is," he fumed.
After a pause the other end said, "nobody."
"Bullshit," the agent spat out.
"Tom you don't get it. I ran the name and the description through every database I could hack. Susan Caldwell doesn't exist. Whoever she is; a stone cold ghost, Tom. The closest I got was some FBI field agent's confidential report about a Karen Caldwell of the NSA and I checked that out too. No such Agent. The only Caldwell working for NSA in any capacity that allows any kind of travel is Jerome Caldwell and he does signal intercept. The only places he's allowed to travel to is like...Pine Gap and the site in Arizona. That's it. Its definitely not him because he's forty-three, six-one, two-sixty and black," the tech recited, "unless you're seriously going around the bend or yanking my chain, you're dealing with shit so far above our pay grades it could get us killed. By the way, I thought you went straight to Vienna, why the stop over in Geneva?"
"What? I did come straight here! What are you talking about," McDaniels demanded.
"Geneva police responded to a call about strange noises. Dead bodies lined up on the floor in the front room with fingers and teeth missing, one of your crumpled business cards found under a turned out drawer," the tech explained, "Interpol is screaming and the only reason the Swiss aren't going after your ass is because of the evidence left behind cluing in that they were planning a bank take down. The boss has been on the phone with Interpol for the past two hours trying to keep them from coming after you. I wouldn't dick around there Tom. Clear up and get out fast. You're booked on a flight that leaves in half an hour."
McDaniels hung up, "I can not fucking believe this! Get me back to the airport. NOW!"
CHAPTER 4
Shawna walked down from the Lear just as the Gulfstream touched down on the runway.
"There they are," Pete commented behind her as LoneStar was greeted by Kimberly.
Shawna noticed as well and asked, "isn't this a weekend you get to spend with Madison?"
Pete chuckled, "she's on her way. I'll pick her up in Nassau later."
"Ok. I'll start debriefing with you then," Kimberly said.
"Works for me," he said.
Pete followed Kimberly and LoneStar back into the hangar after passing his clipboard to Eddie as Warlock came pelting around the corner.
"One day that mutt's gonna get too close and get sucked into a turbine," Pete commented.
Warlock sat down and waited until Lyssa and Rodrick and Tiffany de-planed then trotted up to bark his greeting. Lyssa crouched down and ruffled his fur, praising him and Rodrick patted his side roughly.
"I'm going to head up and shower before I debrief," Lyssa called out to Kimberly who waved back.
"Sounds good to me too," Rodrick said then finished in german,"Warlock. Haus. Gehen!"
The belgian shepherd turned and gamboled away as Rodrick drove the cart with Lyssa riding beside him. Shawna waited downstairs from the office with Tiffany to be called in to debrief. Surprisingly she was called in before Tiffany. Kimberly was quick.
"ok Shawna. that's it. Get cleaned up and ready to go," Kimberly said after finishing.
"Go," Shawna asked, "Go where? We just got back."
Kimberly laughed, "You get to take a packet to the Major. Sign out the Lear and head up to D.C. Use the private airfield we use and take this with you."
Kimberly handed her a briefcase. Inside was all the necessary IDs, badges and other documentation for Special Agent Sasha Kirkpatrick of the DIA, Special Agent Sarah Callahan of Homeland Security, Agent Sharon Montgomery of ICE, Agent Seana Golson of the Secret Service, Agent Sally McManus of the CIA and Special Agent Stephanie Daniels of Department of Justice. the DOJ credentials gave her access to FBI, DEA and ATF. Quickly Kimberly showed her all the features of the case then helped her set the locks.
Finally Kimberly told her, "ok. After Lyssa and Rodrick debrief you'll be cleared to go."
"When? tomorrow," Shawna laughed.
Kimberly laughed as well, "no. They'll be here in a few minutes. time enough for you to get cleaned-up and ready to go You'll be gone for a week or so. Stop back in to get the case."
Shawna nodded and hurried to her trailer to shower change and re-pack. She noticed a clean battle-suit waiting for her to be added to her travel case. Three hours later she was headed north in the Lear.
Dannigan was glad he stayed late waiting for Shawna to come in with the mission packet.
After finishing the review of the after-action reports he nodded, "excellent work Ms. Davies. Very well done for your first tasking. In a month You'll have to be on the island for your final medical procedure and then you'll be out there. You have a choice; remain on the island or take up residence anywhere in CONUS. Preferably close to the D.C. area. say, no more than two hours away."
Shawna smiled for a moment then dropped it, "Sir, if I take up residence off the island how will I travel. Commercially?"
Dannigan shook his head, "not hardly. A Lear confiscated by Customs is now sitting at the private terminal hangars at the airfield Rodrick and Lyssa use here. Hangar 12 is ours now and you can park it inside. I've already told Pete to accompany Madison back on a commercial flight to pick up Rodrick's Lear. Here are the keys to a silver camaro sitting in the parking lot for you. Its in your legend name."
Dannigan passed over an envelope with the keys and papers.
"Wow. cool," Shawna said excitedly.
Dannigan took on a serious look, "remember. You're our ghost so be a ghost. Low profile in everything. As Lyssa taught you,' the less attention you attract; the less attention you will attract.' got it?"
"Yes Major," Shawna nodded.
He handed her an ID case and cellphone, "Shawna Daniels of the Senate sub-committee of counter-action. There are only four people that carry that and you're one of them. With this you have the HIGHEST rating in the nation. Technically you could execute the President for treason. You'd have to prove it, but you could. No one can order you to surrender your weapons. This is your legend."
"Yes Sir. I'll watch my step," Shawna answered understanding that it was her main cover now.
"You should have two weeks to get squared away then report back to Ram's Rock for evaluation and surgery. I'll be in touch and you can stay at the Georgetown safe-house tonight," Dannigan dismissed her.
Shawna stood up and saluted then left. She went out of the parking lot with a slight sqawk of tires out of the parking lot.
Dannigan's phone rang as he chuckled to himself. It was a message relay.
"Roberta Ironsides" a mechanical voice stated then the woman's voice came through, "Oxfords, not Brogues. Dinner party for six needed. Formal dress and black tie required. Prepay the check and send the bill to the Lone Stars."
"End message," the mechanical voice stated then disconnected.
Dannigan grabbed the phone and dialed the hangar.
"Kimberly. Tell Joe and Pete to get a plane ready. I need an extract. Find out everything on Roberta Ironsides and what connects her to the U.S. Marshals. Aw shit. She better not be in Ohio with that shit-storm," Dannigan growled.
"I'm all over it Major," Kimberly said then disconnected.
"I assure you Agent, er; I mean Miss Daniels. The purchase of the house and the title and everything will be kept strictly confidential," the Realtor named Jeffry Halston smiled.
"The property will be listed as owned by a holding company along with the services and utilities. Will that be a problem," She asked.
"Certainly not Ma'am. In fact, long ago my granddaddy worked for the Treasury. He chased moonshiners and that made him very unpopular so I understand you'd want the privacy. I'll be happy to help anyway I can. My civic duty you know, doing my part to serve my community and country," he nodded solemnly.
"That's very considerate Mr. Halston. And much appreciated. The payment will be wired to the account within the hour. I'll step over to that coffe shop and bakery I saw while I wait for the papers," Shawna stood up and shook hands with the middle-aged man dressed in a simple white button-up shirt and black chinos.
"Well since you do prefer privacy I'll unofficially welcome you to Belder Maryland and hope you enjoy making your home here," He nodded to over her handshake as if a modified court bow.
"Thank you, and please...call me Shawna," Shawna smiled then stepped out dialing the Cayman Island bank.
Three hours later Jeff dropped off the papers of ownership and keys then whispered that he finessed the local utility provider to go ahead turning everything on immediately and put under the holding company's name, paying the deposit himself. Shawna repaid the deposit money in cash with a bit extra for his accommodation to her.
The next day as the sun rose Shawna looked out the upstairs window as children walked by heading for school and could hear the drift of voices from a pair.
"I'm telling you Danny; something's different and PJ thought he saw a light on in there last night when he was sneaking home," a young girl said.
Her brother replied, "Come on. Like anybody would want to live in there. Dark House has been empty longer than you or me have been around and its gonna stay that way. The old lady died in there. Remember?"
The girl replied, "she lived alone and died of a broken heart, now she haunts it. Maybe PJ saw the ghost? I saw her picture in the town hall. She had jet black hair and pretty blue eyes. Whoa! Did you see that? A curtain moved! I saw a curtain move upstairs!"
"C'mon! You're just imagining things. We're gonna be late for school if we don't hurry," her brother goaded her.
As she watched the children bustle off Shawna smiled to herself and chuckled, "how ironic. Ghost house meet Ghost Moth. What secrets shall we share Darkfell Manor?"
Shawna easily wandered downstairs and locked up. She had to return to the island early and stay until her medical release, then she could come back and set up her new home.
The Chrysalis Project: Steel Dove
TIffany is in New York. What will happen when the 'City that never sleeps' meets the Operator that never quits. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Tiffany stood in the club holding her bottled water, listening to the chatter of the two younger dancers she went to Julliard with in an abbreviated course. She had jumped at the opportunity to be included in their night out. For a month she'd trained hard, as if her every step were being dogged by her mentor Lyssa. Not even her dance master knew she'd been intensely trained by her for over a year. The world famous Prima had taught her from day one how to dance; both ballet and ballroom. It showed, several times He had almost said the name in comparison.
"Like its so hard? Don't they understand a girl's gotta cut loose sometimes and just have fun? You know, blow off steam," the dark haired Melanie stated.
Red headed Brooke replied, "We need something alright."
She wasn't looking at her companions but further away. Tiffany had spotted the subject of her interest right after she did. Dark hair, tanned and wearing the relaxed jeans and white shirt open several buttons. Brooke had a thing it appeared for the "bad boy" look. Melanie went more for the suit and tie guys and had more than once mentioned marriage in her future plans. Tiffany had also noticed the undercover cops and one off duty Fed. Their presence was filed away along with the group of four mafia boys. Swarthy, suited and arrogant they stood out in her mind. Being armed was the clinching give-away.
"In five months when we graduate; I'll be so glad to go home to San Francisco," Melanie said longingly.
She made no bones about being homesick.
"Not me. Graduation; then off to Paris for a month," Brooke laughed,"What about you Tiffany?"
Tiffany shrugged, "home for a week then figure out what to do next."
The songs changed and the singer's voice subtly caught her attention.
"Girl you need to get a plan. We can't dance forever. Play your cards right and you can land a serious sugar-daddy. Not a musician though. You need a business guy. European. You're a goody-goody, maybe an Italian? They're stable," Brooke commented.
"Stable? Why not a daredevil type," Tiffany hedged.
"What? You want to pull a Lyssa Kordenay and marry some fly-boy nobody pilot," Brooke asked.
That got both of the other dancers' attention.
"What's wrong with that," Melanie asked pointedly," She's happy, he's super hot. I heard he used to be a navy SEAL and was a smuggler for a while. Rumor is that the smuggling thing was a cover for working for the government. He had to stop because he married Lyssa and she gets too much attention for that. They just had twins and she looks great again."
Brooke rolled her eyes, "oh PUH-LEASE! Lyssa dated movie producers, designers and corporate bigwigs from all over. I even heard she was courted by an Arabian prince and she just THROWS it all away. To marry THAT GUY? You should hear the rumors about her. One is that she only danced to keep herself attractive because she was really a high level mistress. She disappears ALL the time! Once for two months. People thought she was pregnant or had a boyfriend that got too rough and she had to recover. Then she turned up in Sydney Australia, of ALL PLACES, in super top form."
Tiffany was listening, but only just. She knew about those rumors and the true stories behind them. It was the song that had her attention more. She listened onto the lyrics; 'Welcome to the inner workings of my mind. So dark and foul I can't disguise. Can't disguise. nights I become afraid of the darkness in my heart. Hurricane.' Brooke and Melanie began to argue. Tiffany edged back slowly and then wandered off. Those two argued more than anybody she'd met. They seemed to thrive on it. The high stress of a mission or training exercise was far more preferable to their constant bickering. Tiffany missed Ram's Rock Island. No need to hide anything there. It was so much easier. Her apartment building had a small gym luckily. Joining a health club was the only other way for her to maintain her high PT standard. The building had an indoor pool to swim in, stationary bikes and treadmills. Good thing she still woke up at five in the morning. She had no intention of joining a spin-class or any other group that focused more on being social than actual fitness.
She kept moving through the club and trying not to fall down laughing at some of the pick-up ploys being used on the other women.
"Hey gorgeous," a man with wet spiky hair and artificial tan said edging closer.
Tiffany had seen him earlier talking to two other blondes. Apparently that was his thing. He had the requisite accent if he wanted to be an extra on Jersey Shore.
She gave him a blank look and replied in German, "Ich glaube nicht, dummer Esel sprechen."
"Uh. You speak english," he asked.
"Englisch? Nein. Gute nacht Dumm," Tiffany said and turned away.
The guy walked off, "fuckin' foreign models. Why can't they learn english before they come here?"
A girl walking by carrying a tray of shot-tubes giggled, "that was so cool! What did you really say to him?"
Tiffany smiled and let her drawl slip a little on purpose, "I told him I didn't speak dumb-ass."
"I guess I should have paid more attention in spanish back in high school. It could've come in handy," the shot-girl lamented.
Tiffany shook her head, "too common. So is French. Learn Dutch instead, with your complexion it'll sell. Get the lessons you see on the commercials. It'll work."
"You speak Dutch? I know what you said to him was in German. I'm Stacy," the shot-girl introduced herself.
Tiffany nodded, " Onder andere. Among others. I'm Tiffany."
Stacy pulled a shot, "thanks for the advice Tiffany. Have one on me."
Tiffany waved off the shot, "advice is always free for a girl on the job. Tell you what. Twenty dollars for a name."
Stacy shrugged, "ask."
"Anything, anytime, anywhere. No questions and no attention," Tiffany said.
"Party-planner," Stacy asked.
Tiffany understood the slang term. A party-planner was a person that could supply girls for entertainment, tax-free liquor, drugs and even find a location to hold an event. All low-end. Street level. That wasn't what she wanted.
"A Fixer," Tiffany answered.
Stacy knew exactly what was meant. A fixer was a go-to guy. Cars, girls, guns, art, information, jewelry, drugs, men(for pleasure or security), off-the-books doctors. Usually mafia connections solved all those problems. But to ask for a fixer was different. Fixers were independent. They held no affiliation to any organization. They charged high prices and ran the highest risks. It was worth dealing with them. They worked alone and never had informant problems, they tended to be more ruthless.
"Kent Dalton," Stacy said leaning close and gave an address.
Tiffany nodded. That was what she wanted. A fixer that was established enough to have a location meant a lot. That meant he had been around for years. Low-end fixers had only phone numbers if you were lucky. Most of the time they worked a certain area and you had to look for them based off a description. An established fixer never dealt in cash and rarely with bearer bonds. They took payment by wire transfers.
Tiffany pulled two twenties from the top of her dress and dropped them on the girl's tray, "goodnight. Stacy."
The shot-girl smiled then blinked in amazement. Tiffany had taken five steps forward and disappeared as two people crossed in opposite directions between them.
Dannigan didn't like the update he was reading. ISIS was making moves again. Another penetration into CONUS. New York was too target rich as far as he was concerned. The thing that bothered him most was the movements. Three smaller contingents had broken off. All were heading south in varying directions. One cell moving to the mid-west, one deep south and one south-east. This wasn't concealment, it was operational prep. They were staging. As if the problem with the Marshals weren't enough. Or was it the other way around; If terrorists weren't enough he had that problem with the Marshals too.
He pulled up the conference window and it opened on the other side.
"What's on your mind Major," Kimberly asked.
Dannigan sent the reports, "An ISIS cell has divided. They're on the move and nobody has a clue where they're going or why. You and Krystel find 'em, track 'em so they can be shut down."
Kimberly was already reading the reports, "they're main location is in New York? Tiffany is there. Maybe she can do some groundwork on them. Shawna's back in Maryland. I think she's done setting up her house. Who do you want?"
Dannigan nodded, "make the packet and I'll bring Tiffany up on tasking. Oh and add that I would prefer she not get mugged again."
Lyssa leaned into the screen, "that was planned. It goes to her legend. She needed an incident to prompt a reason for having some kind of hand-to-hand skills. Its on record now that she took a free women's course taught by the NYPD, one of their S.W.A.T. members. It was necessary Major."
"How planned was it," Dannigan asked and instantly regretted it.
Lyssa sighed, "not good enough. It took her four evenings of parading around for six hours just to lure somebody in. She was tempted to scrap the plan and take out her frustration on him."
Dannigan shook his head, "forget I asked."
Krystel laughed, "well we definitely don't have to worry about her looks. She got so many phone numbers she could start her own phone book!"
"I could have survived the day without that Evanson. Find the terrorists, preferably BEFORE they make the news," Dannigan said and signed off.
Hammad drove under the posted speed limit. They would be in Kansas the next day. An advance man had been sent already to set up a safe-house and start the surveillance. Recruitment and radicalizing of disillusioned Americans had stalled. Someone had gotten very smart and used islamic law against them. When confronted, the Muftis and Imams had to admit that conversion to Islam meant nothing if the man was circumcised. That revelation all but slammed the door on western recruitment. He took a drink of the convenience store coffee and wanted to gag. Americans made coffee too strong and bitter. He would admit, it will keep you awake during driving. Between the coffee and the food he believed he would soon lose what little control he had. If it weren't for fried chicken places he wouldn't trust any kind of meat at all. No place announced being Hallah.
The plan was good. It would be a solid strike at the American politicians. He knew the Congressman of Kansas before taking the current seat as Speaker of the House had been chairman of the armed services committee and previously the intelligence committee. He had the influence to have prisoners released if he so chose. He would not,of course, and the price would be paid by his only child. A boy. Hammad had seven men with him, another six were on their way to Galveston, Texas. They would secure a boat. In case anything went wrong his group would join that one and use the boat to cross the Gulf of Mexico to Tampa, Florida. The third splinter group of three would hide themselves there. They would also make preliminary observations of the current head of the working group known as CyberForce. There were actually two groups. One stayed protected within Fort Meade, Maryland. The other worked out of the Naval base in Tampa. The one in Tampa was the more critical group.
The remaining four members of the cell were staying behind in New York to coordinate and communicate between the groups. By keeping that group in place it would confuse the federal agencies. They were not using any cellular phones at all. Instead they were using an internet service. As WiFi was free to use in so many places it was a more practical and secure method of communication. In Kansas City they would use a pre-paid cellphone to make contact with their target. Hammad drove on with a cold smile.
Chapter 2
Tiffany sat in the comfortable chair facing the wide desk.
"So how may I help you Miss Davareaux," Kent Dalton asked.
"I'm glad you received my retainer," Tiffany said casually.
First thing that morning one hundred thousand dollars had been wired to the fixer's account after a request for an appointment. An hour later Tiffany was called and given a time. She now faced the slick New Yorker.
Tiffany began, "I'm looking for some property. I like my privacy, yet I still need city access. A place that I can store my car indoors. What I need is probably something along the lines of a commercial space that I can convert."
Kent was checking a laptop, "rent, lease or purchase?"
"Purchase please," Tiffany replied.
Kent stopped tapping the keys, tapped again then stared at the screen.
"Can you be ready to purchase today," he asked.
Tiffany nodded, "if the property is right."
He tapped some keys then stood up and walked over to large plasma screen that had looked like a digital portrait. It now displayed a three story building with a basement that looked like a warehouse. He went into detail about the place then turned back.
"Would this serve your needs," Kent asked.
Tiffany smiled, "I believe it would Mr. Dalton."
Kent smiled, "normally a property such as this would go for several million dollars. But if you can purchase in one hour and be able to sign the papers, it can be yours for only eight hundred-fifty thousand dollars."
"I can call to have the payment transferred right now," She replied.
"One moment please," Dalton asked then went through a side door.
He returned three minutes later and held out a slip of paper. Tiffany knew the series of numbers were for an account. She called and transferred the money. Kent smiled.
"How else may I be of service today," He asked.
"I'd like a current year Lincoln Navigator, silver and Dodge Challenger. I would also like an appointment with modification technician. Could you also recommend an interior designer," Tiffany listed.
Kent had been making notes, "The vehicles can be delivered first thing in the morning and the Dodge will be delivered by a technician. I know a couple of designers that specialize in commercial to residential conversion. I'll have to confirm a time with you tomorrow. A driver will take you over to the location in about four hours. A gentleman will meet you there to sign the papers and give you the keys. There will be a lock service and alarm technician after the papers are signed to change the locks and alarm codes. I assure you Miss Davareaux; everything will meet with your approval."
He had stood up and come around his desk offering his hand. Tiffany understood this was the closing of the meeting. She took his hand and stood up.
"So far your service is outstanding Mr. Dalton. I'm so glad you granted my appointment," Tiffany smiled.
Kent kissed her hand, "Kent, please. Its my pleasure to meet such a talented dancer. Perhaps you might help me when you're a Principal dancer."
Tiffany understood, "Tiffany. Box seats shouldn't be a problem Kent."
Kent handed her a card, "an exclusive limo service. Billed directly to your account here. Security provided. Your name will be added to the list and be available in six hours. Have a wonderful day Tiffany."
"Thank you Kent. Much appreciated. You have a great day as well," Tiffany said and left.
Four hours later she walked into the building with new keys and alarm code. She started with the basement first. It would serve as a small arms range after some specialized modifications. The ground floor provided more than adequate parking for the vehicles she would have. The first floor would be remodeled as a large gathering area for entertaining. The second floor would be turned into a dance studio and gym. The third floor would be remodeled loft style to a living area. It would take two weeks but worth it.
Tiffany knew Lyssa had a place in New York. Actually she knew Lyssa had a residence and two bolt-holes in New York. Operators maintained one or more locations to cache weapons and other needed supplies. Lyssa had those in the major cities she frequented such as New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Rome, Milan, Moscow, Tokyo, Rio De Janiero, Amsterdam, Munich, Geneva, Vienna, Monte Carlo, Barcelona, Mykonos and Athens that Tiffany knew of. Tiffany also knew Rodrick had two locations in CONUS; Long Beach, California and Jacksonville, Florida. He also had two locations outside the U.S. One in Marseilles and one in Sydney, Australia. All of them had a bail-out kit in Nassau consisting of a go-bag, clean passport, weapons and money. They all had escape and evade routes as well. Carl and Eddie had a sailboat and would head for Key West, Rodrick had a small plane and would take Warlock to Miami then up to Jacksonville. Pete had the most dangerous bail-out. He would catch a flight to Cuba. Once there he would become a Marine once again and take a Hop, military flight, back to the U.S. Kimberly and LoneStar would take a charter flight to Grand Cayman, Lyssa would fly commercial to Rio and Krystel would board a cruise ship to Mexico. From there they would move twice then all converge on Switzerland. Children and dogs had changed things drastically.
"Son of a bitch. I GOT 'EM," Krystel called out.
Kimberly looked over, "verified?"
Krystel nodded, "yes Ma'am. They snuck in through the port on a freighter but I have them. From there I tracked them around New York using the cameras. I lost the three groups after the turnpike but I have the New York contingent cold."
Kimberly went through and double-check everything. Krystel was dead-on. She made up the packet and sent it out. with a copy to Dannigan. Krystel was now trying to hack into their computer. Two burn-phones were on the location but only local calls that were nothing. The upside was they were stealing WiFi from an adjacent building. The downside was it was all voice communications. Krystel would have to intercept the messages during a session. This was where having a team of two came into play. They would have to take twelve hour shifts to catch them. Kimberly's computer pinged. Tiffany had received the packet. She was now planning. She would make her incursion that night. Kimberly sent Dannigan confirmation. He acknowledged.
The clock was now running and Tiffany was on her own.
Tiffany wanted to shake her head in amusement. There was a surveillance van parked across the street and twenty yards away from her new property. She unlocked the door and went inside to deactivate the alarm. The van was very old so she guessed it was NYPD and not Federal agents.
'They must be in a frenzy trying to figure out who I am by now. Whatever has their attention was already removed before I ever signed the papers,' Tiffany thought to herself.
Ten minutes later a silver Lincoln Navigator pulled inside the large door. and parked. Within five minutes the remote had been set to the large roll-up door. She signed the papers and accepted the keys. The driver informed her the title, registration and plates would be dropped off that afternoon. As he left the Dodge Challenger pulled in. The young man greeted her then popped the hood. Tiffany pointed out what she wanted done then signed the papers. The tech then drove the car out with assurance it would be returned that afternoon. She was expecting the interior designer any time now and wasn't disappointed. A woman knocked then smiled and walked in.
"Miss Davareaux? I'm Carol Stanley," She introduced herself and offered her card.
Tiffany smiled back, "thank you for coming out. My sponsor acquired this building for me to use and as you can see, its in quite a state."
Carol smiled, "I have a great team and I'm sure you'll be happy. You gave me a quick outline so I believe I can have you ready by the middle of next week."
Tiffany unrolled a large sheet, "here's what I had in mind."
After ten minutes the designer smiled, "I see no problems whatsoever."
Tiffany reached into her purse, "I have a corporate check for you here."
The designer took the check, "I'll have my people start first thing in the morning. It'll be a pleasure creating for you!"
"I look forward to your ideas. I have to go now, but I'll be here first thing in the morning to let you and your people in," Tiffany said.
Tiffany left after locking up. The urge to giggle was hard to resist when she spotted the tail. She had no reason to evade so she led him all the way to Julliard and spotted him looking into the studio. He was shocked to see her in dancewear and working with the other dancers. At four she left and returned to the warehouse. The two men were back. She opened the door and let them in. After parking the Dodge the technician went over all the modifications and handed her the keys and paperwork. The other man, that had delivered the Lincoln installed the license plate then handed her the paperwork. Both bid her a good evening and left after setting the remote in the Dodge to the door as well. Tiffany took the Dodge and left.
"So what have you got on this chick," Detective Nunez asked.
"Tiffany Davareaux. Grew up in Louisiana. Current Residence: Nassau, Bahamas. She's listed as working small parts in some productions outside the States. Currently enrolled at Julliard in an advanced program and slotted to go to Moscow in four or five months. Sponsored by a consulting firm out of Nassau," Another officer read from a sheet.
Nunez asked, "what?"
Artello replied, "she's a ballerina. Model, too. Some print in Europe, no covers. The building is now listed as corporate holding. Those vehicles too. There's a report here that she got mugged a few weeks ago. Purse got snatched. She took our self defense course. Other than that, nothing. This is her first time in New York."
"You're saying this chick pops up out of nowhere, buys the building and she's clean," Nunez asked.
The younger officer nodded, "yep. Everything's legit as far as she's concerned. She is who and what she says she is. The woman that met her is an interior designer. The check she paid her with is on the up and up. Corporate account with Bank of America. I even made some calls. She's top of that advanced class. Word is she's going to that super high echelon academy in Moscow for ballet when she's done here."
"I don't get it," Nunez shook his head.
Artello leaned back in the chair, "some companies do that. They finance artists and athletes. The company puts up the money and they give the company a face for the public to look at. Dancers, models, athletes. How do you think some of those people get to the Olympics? They have sponsors. Its a tax write-off for a company and it makes them look good. Whatever Munzio had in there is long gone now. He wouldn't let anybody get inside that building if he had anything in there."
"Essentially we're blown. FUCK," Nunez shouted.
The unit tailing her reported she had went to an apartment. The apartment was leased under the same company but only for another month. He also remarked that she was a careful and courteous driver.
Nunez rolled his eyes at that. He didn't understand it. Who was this chick, why did she suddenly buy the building that nobody knew was for sale and what was her connection to Munzio?
"Keep the tail on her. I wanna know the second she meets with Munzio or his crew," Nunez ordered.
Tiffany opened the secure email and went through the packet Kimberly sent. She had already received her tasking code. The location suspected of being the cell's site made her frown. It was definitely out of the way. There were no clubs or restaurants nearby to justify her presence casually. She'd have to invent a reason to be in the area. After thinking for ten minutes it came to her. Something Lyssa said once. Use what you have going on if you can. Lyssa had created a foundation to sponsor a dancer to college to get close to target AO once.
"I'm moving into a place. I need stuff for it," Tiffany said then grabbed the daily newspaper and checked the notices.
She found three ads for items. Two were for furniture and one was for an apartment's contents. Tiffany called them and set up appointments. All three would receive her so she touched up then went down to her new car. Her tail was still with her but it didn't matter. She was about to school them in the fine art of being bored to tears. If they thought following her around all day was a waste of time, they were about to find new levels of frustration. All the appointments were with elderly women. Informative for her, sheer aggravation for the cops following her. The smile was all real when Tiffany buzzed her first visit. Within minutes she was in and looking at a forty year old bedroom set while listening to the woman chatter away about everyone within six blocks. After an hour Tiffany came up dry but did have a vintage set of furniture that would be picked up in the morning.
Her next stop made her want to laugh. The widow was Italian and very informed as to what was going on that she did find interesting to her personally but not relevant to the operation. It seemed the building she just bought was sold to her by one of the local mafia underbosses under investigation. The illegal goods that had been kept there had been removed the day before in the early afternoon. She also gave her five more places to check for antiques. She kept her third appointment and it garnered her a dining table and chairs along with a china cabinet.
The next day was saturday and more of the same. When she came out of the second stop carrying a box Tiffany noticed her watchers take interest. She decided to have some fun. Tiffany set the box on the trunk of the Challenger and lifted out a china teapot and admired it then a matching cup. When the cop in the passenger seat laid his head back in disgust she pretended to smile with joy at her prize. In truth she was enjoying the torment of her watchers' boredom. Tiffany loaded the box into the trunk of her car and drove to her next stop giggling to herself.
"Palioski what's the latest," Nunez asked over the radio.
The junior detective answered, "she made a BIG score! A tea set! The last stop she picked up a silver service. Odds are now three to one that she picks up a set of china next. Five to one for living room furniture since she got bedroom and dining room furniture last night. I never knew antiquing could be SO stimulating. We should have brought the wives and compare notes."
Nunez wanted to swear over the radio at their sarcasm, even though it was well founded. It was verified that from two of the three locations the Davareaux woman went to last night, furniture was picked up that morning and brought to the warehouse. She was driving them all crazy with her randomness.
Artello off to the side simply shook his head, "I told ya, she was clean. At least Palioski and Deturo have a good looking woman to look at. It could be worse. They could be stuck in here with you."
Nunez tossed the handheld radio onto the counter, "I'm surrounded by ASSHOLES!"
Tiffany finally hit pay-dirt on her fourth stop. Not only did she find two persian rugs in great condition, she found out that a block over there had been a large group of men speaking Farsi that were new and had more than two vehicles. The group had started out large but now was small. The old woman had been surprised and delighted when Tiffany greeted her in fluent German. The woman's building bordered the slowly expanding Islamic section. After calling for the rugs to be picked up Tiffany wandered down to the corner. A small Mom 'n Pop store and deli was there. She ordered a bratwurst on a kaiser roll. The couple were fourth generation American but due to the demographic spoke German. They were surprised when Tiffany did as well.
Her efforts were rewarded in the store. Two men came in speaking Farsi. One asking the other if there was any news and the other replying that the main group would contact them from the Kansas city safe-house that night. Tiffany bought another bottle of water and bid the couple good day.
" Gutten tag," Tiffany called out waving.
The two cops following her had come into the store as well and grabbed something to eat as well. She was sure that if they had really been checking her out they'd now know she spoke Russian, Italian and German. None of which should be surprising. She had been featured in German and Italian Vogue magazines and it was common knowledge she was going to be going to Moscow in a few months. Tiffany knew which building the Arabic men were in. She would visit them later on.
Chapter 3
Hammad and his group had finally arrived in Kansas City. They met the advance man as arranged at a large wholesale club off the Interstate. He led them to a three story apartment building that looked like it should have been condemned ten years ago. The building stood right at the edge of where a residential area met a commercial. The van was parked in a side lot and they all went inside. The sun had already set, allowing them to go inside under the cover of darkness.
"How many are in the building," Hammad asked in Farsi.
The advance man laughed, "none but ourselves. It took a while to get the other tenants to leave but I managed and two months ago the fake company bought it. We are alone here but we have everything we need."
"Good. What about the boy? Have you been watching him carefully Samir," Hammad asked.
" Of course. Our window is closing, as the infidels say. In nine days the boy will go away to a camp for soccer players. Saturday he has a match," Samir informed him.
Hammad nodded, "then Allah smiles on us for arriving soon enough. We'll take the boy after his match. He will be distracted by a win or loss and not pay attention. I already know Congressman Brice will arrive sometime Saturday afternoon."
Samir nodded, "I have a room already for planning and another beside it to hold the boy. This way."
Samir led him down the hall and into another apartment. The main room had a large table from a sheet of plywood set on crude saw horses with pages all over it. The walls had pictures, maps and time schedules covering them. A laptop sat on the counter between the kitchen and main room connected to a cable modem.
"Leave me," Hammad said and began to look over everything.
Tiffany opened the conference window on her laptop.
"I'm up," Tiffany said.
Kimberly greeted her, "Clear?"
Tiffany nodded, "for the most part. Cops bugged this apartment. One in the phone, bathroom vanity light, bedside lamp and the main room under the coffee table. Amateur hour here. They're currently listening to a previous recording of me taking a bubble bath on one bug and my favorite chillmix on the others. Playing with them is getting old quick and I need to work now."
"What did you find," Kimberly asked.
Tiffany uploaded the two pictures, "H.A.T. One and H.A.T. Two."
H.A.T.: Hotel Alpha Tango. Code for Hostile Arabic Terrorist. Similar to the designation Victor Charlie for VietCong. Kimberly was already moving at warp speed. The super array,Onyssius, worked facial recognition through all U.S. agencies along with D.O.D. and Interpol.
Tiffany also gave her the address. Kimberly went into city planning and pulled the building's blueprints file along with services to the building.
"I have them on the fourth floor west side. Apartment four-eleven. Fire Escape is on the north side," Kimberly informed her.
Tiffany looked at the window, "What's on the roof?"
A moment later a still picture came up and Kimberly said, "some type of shack. Possible off the books resident, status unknown."
Tiffany nodded, "evade if possible, neutralize if necessary on rooftop. What about main?"
Kimberly listed, "identify remaining H.A.T.s, infiltrate all electronics and make a record of any pertinent documents. Do you have a secure site?"
Tiffany shook her head, "negative. New York's finest is still all over me. I'm trying to let nature take its course but I get the feeling that whoever is running the team is going off of principle now."
"I'll see if they can be dissuaded tomorrow or the next day. In and out job. Do not engage if at all possible," Kimberly sighed.
Tiffany leaned back in the chair, "ok. I'll begin to infiltrate the site in three hours."
Kimberly confirmed and closed out, "three hours. Usual Ops rig."
Tiffany closed out her side then began studying the building.
Kimberly went into the NYPD's mainframe through a backdoor. She found the warrants for the surveillance on Tiffany's warehouse but no warrants for her apartment. She sent an email to Internal Affairs. In it she detailed the locations of the listening devices and even the serial numbers, which she'd gotten from the inventory log. Also she noted that the warehouse he'd had under watch was no longer owned by the previous party.
"That should get Detective Nunez' attention," Kimberly said.
The other terminal beeped. She went over and looked. Facial recognition hit on one of the pictures.
Kimberly went after more information, "well mister bad guy. Who are you and what do you do?"
She didn't like what she found. Both were first generation. Immigration records detailed that one came from Syria and the other came from an Iraqi town along the border. They both were born and raised in the U.S. but had left three years prior and disappeared after entering Spain. That was a short hop from Morocco. From there they could easily make their way to any number of training camps. The bad part was they had never officially re-entered the country. They had slipped in with the large group. This made things worse. Unlike other terrorists penetrating CONUS, these guys were born citizens. They had knowledge and documents that were first hand and real. They could walk the walk and talk the talk to blend in if they wanted to and yet still have all the linguistics and customs down cold to hide within sympathetic communities. It made them even more dangerous. She updated the Major, knowing he would send a response in the morning.
Tiffany had turned off the digital players and replaced the bugs where she found them and got dressed. Her form-fitted battle suit and boots but rolled the sleeves back far enough to hide under the turned up sleeves of a grey over-size blouse cinched with a wide black belt. Her weapons and harness she stuffed into a shoulder bag along with a small make-up kits and remover wipes. Time to give the cops something better to do than fantasize about her in a tub full of scented foam. She also sent a text to the limo service.
Sure enough, they followed her Challenger to the club she led them to. It only took five minutes to lose them inside and slip out a VIP exit. Two blocks away she met the limo.
"Where to Ma'am," the driver asked.
Tiffany gave him an address and told him to park behind it. Thirty minutes later he pulled in as directed and parked.
"No need to get out. Stay as you are. I'm not sure how long I'll be," Tiffany said and got out.
She moved casually down the alley. Once out of sight of the limo she slipped off the blouse then put on the weapons rig and painted her facial camo from memory. Finally she switched on the camera on her shoulder strap then the bluetooth that was pre-programmed to call the hangar. The call would be through an encrypted satellite phone. She was going with the soft-probe penetration. Two Glock .40 cal. autoloaders with attached silencers on each thigh, a latest generation Fairbarne-Sikes Commando knife at the back of her right thigh. It was made of a carbon fiber composite. Two of the poison micro-syrettes were tucked into her boots. The small pouch at her waist contained her electronic bare essentials; digital camera that could also take video, a flashdrive that actually was for breaking a device's security and implanting a backdoor access for Kimberly and Krystel to use anytime, another that automatically copied everything up to four hundred gigabytes of data. Another pouch held her intrusion set; key-card and data-pad, powder for raising fingerprints, lock-picks and an old fashioned blank credit card. in another pouch was a small aerosol can. It contained an acid that activated when it came in contact with air.
Tiffany walked down the alley until she reached the building. A jump gained her the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder. Apparently someone was using it on a regular basis, it came down quietly. She went all the way up to the roof. The shack on top of the roof was occupied, there was light coming from a curtained window and the noise from a television could be heard. Tiffany was able to move down the stairs two floors. In the hallway the hall lights were low enough. One by one, she was able to reach up and unscrew them just enough to darken the hall. Tiffany stopped at the apartment she was looking for and listened for a moment. It was quiet inside so she took out her picks and worked the pins within the tumbler. First went the deadbolt then the knob. She eased the door open but saw the chain. a simple piece of bent coat hanger unlatched it.
The main room was empty and almost dark. A light from the interior hallway cast enough light for her to see. A laptop sat on the table. A set of headphones with microphone were connected so Tiffany switched it on. The headphones muted the bootup sequence. Tiffany plugged the security breaking flashdrive in. A moment later the screen went immediately to the desktop. A prompt came up so Tiffany switch to the other flashdrive device. It copied everything off the drive. While that was going on she used the digital camera to take pictures of everything. Maps and notes written in Arabic and English. A boat in Galveston, Texas. A building in Kansas City and anothr building in Tampa, Florida. A name in English grabbed her attention. Robert Brice. It sounded familiar.
Tiffany suddenly wanted to groan. Hopefully they weren't referring to Congressman Robert Brice. He was the current speaker of the house. He was one of many that were lucky. He was a true political animal but not so much he'd sell his soul to that bunch called LOG. He'd been around so long he had known better. Sitting on the Armed Services and Intelligence Committees had made him leery of groups that could be considered too far right-winged. A door opened in the back and a man stepped out rubbing his eyes. He was immediately attracted by the blu-ish light from the main room.
The Glock practically leapt into her hand and she triggered off a round. Her training hadn't slipped at all. The .40 caliber round blasted through his head.
"And so flies the burning wings of fury on cold winds. I am death; calling your names," Tiffany said to herself as the body dropped to the floor.
Quickly she went to the room he had exited and looked in. Twin beds were inside. She triggered off a round into the head of the man stirring. She then eased open a second door and looked in. Again there were twin beds and they were occupied. Her knife ensured they'd never awaken. A tap to the bluetooth made a call to the hangar.
"Go," Kimberly answered.
"Possible blown Op. Four H.A.T.s downed," Tiffany said.
Kimberly pulled up Tiffany's location, "status."
Tiffany sighed, "I own the AO for the next hour if needed. Backdoor installed on the laptop."
Kimberly began typing, "get me a hard connection."
Tiffany connected to the internet then backed to a DOS-Prompt and connected to the IP Kimberly called out.
"Ok Dove go ahead and sanitize while I kill the laptop," Kimberly instructed her.
Tiffany went to the bedroom and began policing her spent brass and round, then from the body in the hall. There was no bleach or straight ammonia. All they had was an old bottle of glass cleaner. Tiffany sprayed every surface she'd touched even though she'd worn gloves. She used pieces of paper and wrote numbers on them and took pictures of each face then tucked the number into ziploc bag along with a blood stained paper towel.
"All four tagged. What else do you want," Tiffany asked.
Kimberly replied, "send it to Washington. Upload everything else to me when you get back to your place. The Laptop is done. Exfiltrate. We'll debrief when you get clear."
"Roger that," Tiffany said and disconnected.
Tiffany took one last one last look around. She shook her head at the body laying in the hall. There was a large puddle of urine soaking into the carpet.
"If only you could have held off taking a piss longer," Tiffany said then locked the door knob and left.
A block away she removed her gear and facial camo then returned to the limo.
"Where to Ma'am," the driver asked.
"Do you know where one of those twenty-four hour mail service places is," Tiffany asked.
The driver nodded, "yes Ma'am. I'll head there now."
Tiffany re-applied her make-up. Fifteen minutes later she was standing at a counter in a Mail 'n More. She tucked in the memory card, flashdrive and plastic bags and addressed it to the Washington office and sent it out rush service. The Major would have it in twenty-four hours. She then had the driver return her to the club. Tiffany slipped back in via the VIP door. She strolled right through and went out the front then drove herself back to the apartment.
Chapter 4
Detective Nunez was confused. Why would the Captain want him first thing in the morning? Two guys in suit were waiting in the Captain's office when he walked in
"Have seat Gerry," Captain Billings said.
Gerry Nunez sat down, "what's up Cap?"
One of the suits asked, "what's the connection between Munzio and a Tiffany Davareaux?"
Gerry got angry, "she bought a building he owned. A building that wasn't for sale."
"That's not what we're asking. What's her connection? Is she sleeping with him, dating him, answering his phone, what," the other suit asked.
"I don't know," Gerry answered.
"Has she been seen in his company at all," The first guy asked.
Gerry sighed, "no."
The other asked, "called him? Wrote a letter?"
Gerry stared at him, "no."
"So she has no ties to the case other than she bought the building. Has the building been searched since she took ownership," Suit one asked.
Gerry stared, "yeah. We didn't find anything. What's your point?"
"Then why'd you bug her apartment and phone? Where's the warrant for that," Suit Two asked.
Nunez glared, 'did one of my guys go to IAD?"
"We get an email from a service that doesn't exist that states listening devices, locations and serial numbers. You have two options. Pull all surveillance on Tiffany Davareaux and take a week off, or we can do it and you get reassigned to patrolman in another precinct. Either way this is where she starts being left alone. Take your pick," Suit one stated.
Gerry Nunez was angry now, "Cap there's something going on! This chick comes out of no where and buys the building. She's connected!"
Suit one showed him the title, "she doesn't own it. Its owned by a Consulting firm in the Bahamas. They're her sponsor. Its listed as a private dance studio and corporate lodge. Two cars are registered to the same address in her name but were bought by the same firm and they're also on the utilities. That firm has her and some other girl. A model from the Bahamas. They do PR work. Shut down the stalking before she figures it out and files a complaint."
"Cap," Gerry protested.
The Captain shook his head, "sorry Ger. IAD is right on this one. Pull the bugs and detail. Do it now."
Detective Nunuez slammed the door on his way out.
Tiffany looked at her phone. The text message set her on edge.
SD. status upgrade: standby for no-notice deployment. Arrange air travel. Office.
Tiffany deleted the message then called the bank in Zurich again. She transferred another one hundred thousand dollars to the Fixer's account then called him.
"Tiffany. I hope the limo service met with your approval," Kent Dalton asked
Tiffany turned on the charm, "oh of course it did! Kent I do need something though. There's a small business matter that may require my very urgent attention. I'd like to book a charter plane. A Learjet. If the problem sorts itself out in the next three days or so then I won't need to go. Would twenty thousand have transportation fueled and waiting for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours?"
"Oh that sounds very serious. I can arrange that. Anything else I can do to help with the problem," Kent asked.
Tiffany gentled her voice, "I don't think so. Things sort out themselves or they don't. You know how it is."
The Fixer laughed, "I certainly do. For you, twenty thousand will have a Lear waiting until monday morning. To hold it until tuesday would have to be thirty."
Tiffany sighed, "very well. Thirty for until tuesday. Thank you Kent. I'll call you as soon as I know what I'm doing."
She disconnected and went back to the apartment. It was obvious someone had been inside again. Tiffany ran a sweep and found all the bugs had been removed, not relocated. That was fine to her. None of her weapons or other gear had been discovered. She readied her go-bag and waited.
The Chrysalis Project Book 2: Ghost Moth The Dark and The Angel
Shawna is settling in to her new home but not advertising the fact. It seems there is a local stigma attached to her house. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Nicole; nicky, and her brother Daniel walked casually down the sidewalk. They'd left on time for a change so they weren't in the usual rush to get to school. Several paces after turning the corner Nicky started to lag behind.
Daniel noticed and called out," C'mon nicky or we'll have to run to make it on time!"
Nicky looked to her right and shivered. They were passing The House. 'Dark House', everybody called the old empty manor. All school children gossiped about it being haunted. Local urban legend held that over twenty years ago a group of school boys managed their way inside on a dare to spend the night. The legend held that they had been attacked by ghosts, spirits or such and one of the boys had been left behind frozen in terror, never to be seen or heard from again. Both Daniel and Nicky knew the legend was wrong as their father had been one of the boys and he assured them that none of the boys had been harmed other than a few bruises and scrapes after being startled by what turned out to be a raccoon that lurked inside. Even with that reassurance Nicky still felt dread when being around the house and forced her feet to keep moving as panic rose within her. Something about it lately though, different. Like, someone there, watching them. Nicky thought she saw something move and what sounded like a door gently shutting.
"NICKY! COME ON," Daniel called out frustrated now.
Nicky froze, she had seen a curtain move in a window. She was certain of it. Daniel stomped back and grabbed her hand to pull her along.
She protested, "I saw I saw."
"Nothin'. Just your imagination Nicky. You're making us late. Again," Daniel complained pulling her along.
Ten minutes later they finally walked into school and went to their separate classes for the day.
Blake Jacobsen closed the third and last file. His friends in the Marines gave him the nickname BlackJack and it stuck. He didn't mind being Police Chief. The town was small, problems were actually rare. Mostly it was minor fender benders or wildlife-car accidents, the occasional argument that got out of hand and every now and then an actual DUI after a party that ran late. He'd gotten the job after leaving the Marines in which he'd been the Provost Marshal. Leaving The Corps had been hard on everyone but hands were tied; a single parent was frowned on. He took the hardship discharge and came home two days after the Police Chief had a heart attack on duty, luckily in his office first thing in the morning. His father-in-law was a great help even though a widower himself, but the elderly man couldn't raise two children their ages all by himself.
It was just after ten in the morning when Blake finished preparing the shift reports and slipped them into the file folders to go out to the watch-desk when the unmistakable voice carried to him from the front counter.
"Chief Jacobsen; I must see him immediately," she demanded.
Blake walked out, "What is it Mrs. Herrington?"
The Mayor's wife looked agitated that he didn't know already, but reset her haughty expression.
" Its come to MY attention that; strange noises, have been heard over at 'DarkHouse'. In fact Agatha Bexter told me that just last night she thought she saw a light or two on very late. One in the morning," she informed him, "What have you found out?"
Blake resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes or smirk as he casually recounted, "During the course of the department's investigation we've uncovered unsubstantiated reports of 'strange noises' and one rumor of explained lights being seen around zero-one hundred at the premises known locally as DarkHouse. Further details are sketchy and not available at this time as this is an ongoing investigation."
The filing clerk stifled her laugh with a cough. The lead officer had to turn his head and force his eyes and lips closed to keep from laughing as well. Mrs. Herrington stood there gaping as he waited then finally found her voice
"Chief Jacobsen," she began but was cut off.
"Correct! I am the Chief. Not you. When things go on that warrant our attention they get reported to MY officers to be attended to in due course. NOT to be filed in that whatever it is you call a brain until you get around to coming to me with an attitude. I've humored you so far. I see now that it was in error," Blake reached under the counter and pulled out a series of ten forms.
Mrs. Herrington stood there slack-jawed.
He slipped the papers under the bar of a clipboard with a pen then held it out, "Fill out these forms. Completely."
Priscilla Herrington edged back, as if he threatened her with a shovel of manure instead of a clipboard with papers.
"World of Law Enforcement. 90% aggravation, 5% confusion, 4% boredom and 1% job satisfaction. Wanna be a Cop," he asked nonchalantly.
As if taking radioactive waste she hesitantly accepted the clipboard. The very intent look said without doubt he fully meant her to fill each and every single form out. Twenty minutes later he took the forms and flipped through them.
"Ok. I'll check it out," Blake remarked.
"Good! I'll meet you there in five minutes," Priscilla stated, back to her haughty self.
"I'll there in about thirty minutes. Or so. Go inside that fence and I'll arrest you for trespassing of course," he replied passing the forms off to the clerk.
Blake then returned to his office for his gun belt and go-bag. Priscilla sat in her car straining not to shriek at him as Blake took his time check then load his gear into the SUV as well as the SUV itself. Finally he started it and took a very circuitous route through town to the house in question. Blake called in his location and status; out of the vehicle investigating suspicious activity. The Marine in him took over at the gate. He took note of the frequently stepped down grass. That and if you actually looked further one could see two feet beyond the fence the lawn had been mowed to precision. Approaching the front porch he also noticed the flowerbeds. They had been recently replanted. Briskly he knocked at the door and waited. Ninety seconds later he gingerly tried the knob, it turned easily and soundlessly. Breaking the thumb-strap on his holster he eased in.
"Wait out here," Blake hissed to the plump woman trying to conceal anxiety.
Cautiously he fully entered. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he heard music, piano music. Blake stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned quickly when Priscilla whispered.
"Shouldn't we be wearing masks? it might be a drug lab in here," she said nervously.
Blake glared," I told you. Outside."
"Can I help you," a clear, feminine voice asked from the stairs.
Priscilla barely contained her yelp of fright as Blake whirled back around, tracking. His sight-line zero'ed at the figure standing casually midpoint of the staircase. His mind raced, first the fact that the woman had not been there a moment ago. Focusing more, how did she move from a point of concealment to over twelve feet down the stairs soundlessly. wearing high heeled boots at that.
"And you are," the heavyset woman asked irritated at being frightened.
Blake watched as the woman clad in black leggings and poet blouse with a dull wide black belt and tall boots descended the stairs with muted footsteps until the third riser.
She look at both and said casually, "Wondering why I have intruders? In my home? I do hope, for your sake; that she is with the Prosecutor's Office. With an entry warrant, Chief Jacobsen."
Blake shook himself mentally. He'd been immersed in the sight of her raven hair and cobalt eyes. That is, until she said his name. Though her tone seemed charming. Her eyes were displaying otherwise. He could also swear the air around them suddenly got thirty degrees colder. More importantly she knew who he was, and certainly seemed to believe of the two that she was the superior.
Mrs. Herrington finally found her composure again, "well. There are community standards here and we'd certainly like to know your plans for DarkHouse Mrs."
"Its Miss. Shawna Daniels. And you can shove your standards. On your way out," Shawna looked down and pinned the woman with a glare that could freeze spewing lava in place.
Blake knew a situation that could go from zero to F.U.B.A.R. in heartbeats when he saw it and turned, taking Priscilla by the arm.
"Miss Daniels. Most sincere apologies for disturbing you. Please pardon the intrusion. I assure you, it WON'T be happening again," he said pulling the woman with him.
He all but dragged the plump woman out of the house and didn't stop until he was out the gate shoving her into her car.
"Get your hands OFF of me," Priscilla spouted.
Blake growled back at her, "Lucky I don't cuff your ass. Get off this property and don't come back!"
He dialed the Mayor's line as he got back into the SUV and barked, "Your wife has made me look like an idiot for the LAST TIME! MY office. FIVE minutes!"
Within three minutes Blake was back at the station parking in a screech of tires. The four officers and file clerk all but leapt out of his way as he stormed through to his office and logged into the federal database. He ran the name Shawna Daniels and particulars, including the address of DarkHouse. Female, caucasian, twenty-five to thirty-five with black hair and blue eyes. Minutes later a startling single result came back. The was no photo of her and details were listed as Access Denied. At the bottom however there was something that was startling.
Current Tasking: Special Investigator; Senate Sub-Committee for Counter-Action. J-12.
"OH FUCK ME NO," Blake swore pressing his fingers to his temples then bellowed, "the fuck is the Mayor?"
"Right here Blake. What's your problem," Bradley Herrington demanded.
Blake surged to his feet and grabbed the mayor by the lapels then dragged him back to sit in front of the computer screen.
"Damn wife of yours! Thinks she owns the fucking town. Instead of me and my department doing our job, she withholds information then comes down here and bulldozes past procedure, due process and now thanks to her there's the extremely strong chance that this woman is pissed off," Blake yelled at him after slamming the door.
The Mayor looked at the screen and read what information was there with slowly widening eyes.
He pointed and asked, "J-12. What's that mean?"
Blake closed his eyes and counted to himself then answered, "Federal Weapons Possession Rating. Code: Juliet. Level: Twelve. Highest there is. The Director of the NSA doesn't even have it. In simple terms, she has the authority to excute a traitor, on the spot, on the White House lawn. Even if its the President himself. During a press conference."
The Mayor blanched and his mouth hung open as he looked to the screen and back, "you can't be serious! That's too extreme to be real. Isn't it? Seriously? Such people don't exist. Do they?"
Blake Jacobsen never blinked, he silently nodded slowly. Bradley Herrington swallowed slowly.
"What can be done," Bradley asked.
Blake glared, "Start with reminding your wife that she doesn't own the fucking town. Secondly: complaints, concerns, tips, et cetera are to be reported to the department; not HER! Lastly: I work for the city, not her. She stays away from us doing our jobs. Clear?"
Bradley Herrington nodded.
"Tomorrow I'll see if things can be smoothed over. If they can be," Blake added.
Herrington considered that then said, "Please inform Miss, uh, Daniels that the Mayor's Office would like to extend a formal apology if that would be acceptable; and a standing appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps some flowers when you go?"
Blake held up his hand cutting in, "Brad. Just the apology. Sucking up won't help."
Bradley nodded, "hmmm. Right. Courtsey and respect would fair better than flattery. Good luck then. I'll deal with Priscilla. Absolutely right, she has gone too far long enough."
The Mayor stood and walked out.
It was mid-afternoon when Shawna heard a girl's shriek of fright punctuated with a boy's yell to run. Seconds later she saw the children in question bolting through her gate, which didn't close fast enough to stop a very large rottweiler chasing them. Unknowingly the two ran straight towards her and had almost drawn even when the little girl tripped and stumbled into the dirt. Shawna stepped from the arbor she'd been tying rose vines to, revealing herself
Shawna commanded in german, "HALTEN!"
The dog ignored her so she repeated the order in dutch, "OPHOUDEN!!"
The large dog skidded and slid on the grass to obey. A silent hand signal and the dog sat panting. Both children looked back and forth between the dog and the darkly clad woman approaching.
"Children. Very slowly; get up and go wait for me on the porch," she said in a gentle voice.
Shawna stared the dog down then ordered, " HUIS! ENFIN!"
She had ordered it to go home which it immediately complied.
"How'd you do that," the boy asked as Shawn lightly walked up the steps.
Shawna noticed the scrape on the girl's arm and opened the door and gestured them to enter, "I told him to go home. He's going home."
"I didn't understand what you said," he said.
Shawna pointed at the couch, "Sit here. I told him in dutch."
Both sat down nervously as Shawna left the room.
The girl asked her brother in a whisper, "How did she know the dog knew what she was saying in Dutch?"
He shrugged in response as Shawna returned with a large red bag. She unzipped it to reveal a very complete medical kit.
Impressed the boy asked, "are you a doctor?"
"No. I believe that its always a good idea to be ready in case something happens," Shawna replied.
"How'd the dog know what you said," the girl asked then gasped at the sting of peroxide.
Shawna gave her a coy look, "would you believe me if I said magic?"
The girl giggled, "maybe."
"I'd be lying to you sweetie. No magic to it. All canine trained dogs respond to commands in either Dutch, French, German or Russian. I used German first then Dutch," Shawna explained with a smile then dabbed some ointment on the scrape and carefully applied a bandage.
"Hmmmmm," Shawna inhaled then commented, "such nice perfume. Might be just a little grown up for you though. And pretty eyes too, they remind me of a friend."
The girl saw a collection of photos on a nearby shelf. The little girl walked over and looked.
"My name is Shawna," she introduced herself.
"I'm Nicky," the girl answered then gasped, "OH! That's Lyssa!"
"So it is," Shawna remarked.
"Nicky has a thing for ballerinas. I'm Daniel; Danny," Danny said.
Danny grew nervous. He had just seen the large pistol tucked into the back of the woman's belt. He knew people carried guns a lot but they didn't carry them like that.
"Uh. We should go," Danny took Nicky's hand and started to hurry her out, "thanks for helping with the dog. Bye."
Shawna chuckled to herself then stopped. She was going to make sure the kids went down the street fine but the beeping from her phone caught her attention.
Shawna went to her laptop and opened the conference window. Kimberly appeared in the other window.
"Afternoon Shawna," Kimberly greeted her.
"Hey Kim. What's up," Shawna asked.
Kimberly frowned, "We have a multi-pronged situation that's evolving. You're being upgraded to Stand-by. Right now we're waiting on more intel. Sorry to interrupt you settling in. By the way; have you made contact with a Jacobsen, Blake?"
Shawna nodded, "local police chief. I guess people are starting to figure out somebody's in this house now. He's harmless."
"If you say so. He's a former Marine. I'll send his dossier. I'll know something by tonight or tomorrow morning," Kimberly said.
"Hurry up and wait. Ok Kim," Shawna laughed.
Kimberly was laughing too as the window dropped.
Robbie Brice moved fast, feigned left then kicked right and maneuvered around to kick the ball again into the small net.
"GOAL," Robbie yelled as he jogged past the net with his arms up.
Dean shook his head, "pretty slick. Moves like that and you guys'll win for sure saturday Robbie."
Robbie had pulled the ball from the net and was kicking it towards him again then suddenly stepped half over and used his back foot to pull the ball off the ground and flip it high. He had spun then threw one leg up and brought the other over and kicked the ball past Dean into the net again.
"YEAH," Robbie yelled out.
"Whoa! When did you learn about bicycle shots," Dean asked.
"There was an old movie on last week. I saw it on that so I've been practicing it. Pretty good huh," Robbie laughed.
"Robbie! Its dinner time," A woman called from the front door.
"Hey Mrs. B," Dean called back.
Evelyn Brice smiled and waved, "hi Dean. Robbie needs to come in and eat."
"Ok Mom," Robbie replied, "later Dean-O."
"Later Rob-O," Dean laughed.
Robbie ran inside and Dean jogged across the street. Robbie washed up and sat down to his favorite. Chicken nuggets and tots. To the ten year old life was pretty good. In two months he'd turn eleven but the main focus was saturday's match. Practicing with the neighbor helped a lot.
Hammad had watched the two boys playing soccer on the front lawn. Grudgingly he admitted to himself the boy did have skill at the game. Not that it mattered. The boy was simply a means to an end. A pawn. The sun was now setting so he went to the back of the van and knelt east then began his prayers. Afterward he started the engine and calmly drove off. It was difficult watching from a distance, using a video camera hooked to a laptop, but to move in closer would alert to his presence.
The leader walked into the apartment they were using for planning and added to his notes. He then updated the New York group. The Congressman was not due home until midday saturday. The boy's match was early in the morning. By the time the father arrived, he would be theirs. Five cellphones would be used. The GPS was disabled on the phones. He tested the system. Using Skype he called one phone. The call was then forwarded to each phone consecutively then to a final phone which rang. He shut off the call then programmed the last phone with the necessary number. Tomorrow the phones would be hidden about city buses. He knew that even without the GPS enabled they would still be able to find the phones using the towers. Multiple phones making random movements would counter that for a while. During the day the phones would be hidden.
Chapter 2
The day had started as usual for Shawna. She awoke at five and ran ten miles down the beach, swam back with the current then rode her bike fifteen miles. After a shower she put on her make-up and dressed in a simple black flare skirt, green silk blouse. A belt at her waist held the pistol behind her back and a mock garter held the Fairbarne-Applegate knife high on her thigh concealed by the skirt. She draped a jacket that coordinated with the skirt over a chair and wore plain pumps. The coffee had just finished brewing when a knock was heard at the front door.
"Good morning Chief. I see you remembered your manners this morning. Come in," Shawna said then stepped back opening the door wider.
Blake removed his Uniform ball cap and walked in and waited for her to close the door, "thank you Miss Daniels. Or is it Agent Daniels?"
Shawna smiled over her shoulder as she led him inside, "Shawna will do Chief Jacobsen."
"Blake, please," Blake said the sat down on the sofa he gestured to.
"Just a moment. Blake," Shawna said then went into another room.
'Wow. They sure do make government types nice these days,' Blake thought to himself.
He'd only interacted with NCIS agents and the occasional ATF or FBI agent during his time in the Corps. None of those had ever looked like she did. Then again he knew she was dangerous and was reminded of it when he noticed the pistol nestled at the small of her back. He wasn't sure how and where but surely that couldn't be the only weapon she carried. He was surprised when she came back with a tray for coffee.
"How do you take it Blake," Shawna asked as she poured a cup.
"As is. Thank you," Blake took the cup and sipped, "Wow! Good coffee."
Shawna finished making her own and sipped, "sorry there's no donuts go with that."
Blake laughed, "I don't care for 'em that much. Besides, who needs one when the coffee is this. Pretty."
He had glanced up and caught sight of her eyes and lost his track. He then blushed realizing he'd spoke that last part aloud.
"Well that's a first. I've never been told my coffee was pretty. I'll just say thank you," Shawna smiled.
"Yesterday. I messed up. I intruded into your home. I'd like to apologize and explain," Blake said.
"The house has stood empty for years. Its easy to understand your action and also overlook it," Shawna said gently then turned icy, "the woman on the other hand; not so much."
"Priscilla Herrington. The Mayor apologizes for her attitude. He even has an open appointment anytime if you like it formal," Blake said quickly.
Shawna seemed to consider it then shook her head, "tell him it won't be necessary at this time. Only if its a one-off."
Blake nodded, "he'll be relieved to hear that. She won't be a bother to you. I, myself, would prefer not to get shot over it."
"Think you would be," Shawna chuckled then refilled his cup.
Blake sighed, "let's not pretend. Technically you could shoot me inside the department, make my own officers clean up the mess and not even have to fill out paperwork."
Shawna smirked, "not technically Blake."
"Ok so I checked you out. Not technically. Real deal, you could," Blake admitted.
"Now now BlackJack. I wouldn't dare do that after your daughter gave daddy a big hug and a kiss for luck before going out into the big scary world," Shawna said coyly.
"How did you know she did that," Blake asked.
Shawna laughed, "I can smell Nicky's perfume on you and a print of her pink lipgloss on your cheek. She was wearing the same yesterday."
Blake blinked, "you met her yesterday?"
Shawna nodded, "hard to miss to screaming children tearing through the yard with a Rottweiler on their heels. Good thing I know Dutch."
"Rottweiler trained in Dutch," Blake asked then grew angry, "please excuse."
He set his cup on the tray and rushed out. Shawna made it to the door as he leapt over the fence and got into the patrol SUV then tore away from the curb in a screech of tires.
"I guess he has something against Dutch trained Rottweilers. Maybe he'll come back and give me the story," Shawna mused and went back in.
Her phone beeped.
"Great. Stand-by for deployment," Shawna said.
She grabbed her two bags and set them by the door then called the airfield and had her LearJet prepped and fueled. It would only take an hour and a half to get to the private field.
Dannigan asked, "you're sure about this Kimberly."
Kimberly shook her head, "Brice is targeted. That's the only thing for sure. Whatever they got planned is going down saturday. I checked the Congressman's schedule and he's due in Kansas Saturday around noon. They could try an attack in the terminal, on the road to his house or at his house. He's not slated for any appearances Saturday. Just a visit home before returning monday for hearings. Since he was clean in all that LOG business he's on the panel for the hearings. From what I've heard it was a surprise he wan't involved."
"Not really. Brice doesn't play well with others. If he can't take credit for the whole thing and hold all the cards then he won't have anything to do with it. Some people think that LOG may be cute and fuzzy compared to him. He's so far right-winged that Sarah Palin looks like a drug-slut compared to him," Dannigan said.
"Tell me he doesn't know about us," Krystel muttered angrily.
Dannigan shook his head, "no Evanson; he doesn't. Actually he doesn't like intelligence agencies at all. He's bumped heads with the Company several times and said once that the NSA should be shut down. Quote 'The goings-on of other nations is none of our business. If they can't stop their own downward spiral its none of our concern. Should their mess spill over to us then we should retaliate with full nuclear capabilities' end quote."
"Wow. That's extreme," Kimberly remarked.
"That's not even the half of it. He wants to cut all ties to other nations. Send their diplomats out and bring ours back. Pull every Service out of foreign countries and close the bases. He doesn't support a border wall, he wants military patrols and landmines. Not to deport illegals but execute them on sight. Shut down the space program, cut Alaska, Hawaii, Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands loose. That's for openers. Set back civil rights fifty years or so, too," Dannigan informed them.
"That's fanatical," Krystel said.
Dannigan nodded, "he won't even accept campaign contributions from anyone but verified American entities. A Catholic Diocese tried to contribute to him a few years ago. He threw the priest out, literally. He stated that he refuse to take money from foreign powers, which of course the Vatican is. He proposed penalties to American companies that outsource to third world countries and increasing the import duties on foreign goods by fifty percent. School shooting? He proposes arming the teachers with fully automatic rifles."
"He's not Fanatical, Krystel. The man's psychotic," Kimberly corrected.
"Worse. He's popular too. There's a lot of people that think he makes sense. So far he hasn't done anything to warrant action, but should anything happen to him personally he could use it in the upcoming election. He's got a lot of support from the anti-gay, anti-war, pro-life, pro-gun crowds. The Mormons won't go anywhere near him. He denounced them because they haven't put an end to the polygamous factions still in operation in Utah and Arizona," Dannigan finished.
"So the best thing is to figure out what they have planned and not even let him get wind of it? What he doesn't know; he can't exploit," Krystel asked.
Dannigan nodded, "yes."
Kimberly nodded, "we haven't stopped. We're all over this. Everybody is on Black Bayonet; one hour recall right now. Pete is on his way up there right now but he has his gear with him."
"Upgrade that to ten minute recall. The second you find something scramble everybody," Dannigan instructed them then closed out the conference.
"Krystel. Send Shawna a message. Tell her to go ahead and deploy to Kansas and secure ground transport for the others when she gets there," Kimberly said.
"Aye Aye Ma'am," Krystel said then sent the message.
Shawna had gotten the message to deploy and was loading her two bags into the trunk of the Camaro when Blake returned.
"Sorry Chiefie. Gotta go," Shawna said locking the front door and walking back to the car.
"Small town. I could tag along," Blake said then noticed the bags in the trunk, "oh. That kinda 'go'."
Shawna closed the trunk then settled into the driver's seat, "maybe when I get back we can pick up that conversation."
Blake nodded, "right. See ya."
Shawna smiled as she drove away. He really wasn't bad on the eyes at all. He had a good reputation too. Even publicly defended a gay MP that was being hassled. Or so the report said he was gay. Actually the man was straight, he had a transgender girlfriend. That was included in the report. Blake Jacobsen went by the book unless it was obvious someone exploited the book to slam somebody. Pretty good guy in her opinion. Two hours later Shawna was flying west. Before take off she received the message that everyone else would scramble at first light.
Chapter 3
Robbie walked to the soccer field first thing that morning. He met up with Chris a block from his house. Together they walked to the field. Once there they began to warm up. Stretches then jogging up and down the sidelines. Finally they passed a ball back and forth while the rest of the team arrived. Thirty minutes later the match started. Robbie ran as fast as he could. The other team tried putting two players to cover him. Robbie countered by constantly passing the ball to Chris. When they switched to covering Chris he passed it to Robbie. Robbie was quick and agile. He outmaneuvered the opposing players relentlessly.
In frustration the boy covering Robbie decided that instead of trying to block or intercept, he blatantly kicked Robbie's feet out from under him before the ball even got close. Fortunately the referee saw it and red flagged the player. The coach argued but the player was sent off for the rest of the game. Robbie and Chris both enjoyed being Forwards. The only downside was the third forward, Zane. Zane also played football as quarterback. His father allowed him to play soccer because it kept him in good condition during the off season and didn't put strain on his throwing arm. However, Zane was convinced that everyone on the team was simply there to give him the ball and only he was allowed to score goals. A viewpoint encouraged by his father. That caused quick turnovers. Rival teams knew of his ego and would make the most of it. Since he refused to pass the ball they constantly took it from him. As he was bigger than everyone except the goalie he usually tried to bully them all. Especially Robbie since he was the second smallest on the team, and better than he was.
During the break a big argument broke out among the team.
"Why do you keep letting them score off us," Zane yelled.
Drew the goalie grabbed him by the shirt, "they keep taking the ball from you stupid. You want to pretend you're the only one playing, go back to football!"
"I'm the best player on the team," Zane yelled back, "you all just give me the ball and I make the goals!"
"Take charge Zane," his father said loudly.
"CAN IT! ALL OF YOU," the Coach yelled walking over.
"Zane I'll say it one more time. You are NOT the best player! Of the twenty turnovers against us; thirteen were on you! Robbie and Chris have scored a goal each and you don't get anywhere near it. This is a soccer team, not the Zane Trichell all-star hour! Get your head on straight or go home," The Coach said to him then addressed the rest of the team, "we're down one goal. Midfielders; keep up the pressure and make them go on the defensive. Drew stay center right, that one forward has a mean leftie. Strikers work together to get the ball past their defense. Signal, signal, signal. They're used to players yelling cues that they aren't watching your hands. Strategy is going to win this game and ours is good. Now go back out there and run them into the ground," The Coach said loudly in encouragement.
"Zane! You get that ball and keep it til you score. Make every goal boy," Zane's father yelled out.
"STUFF THAT! TEAMWORK," the Coach yelled then turned to Zane's father, "If he doesn't start working with the other players he's off. Last chance; learn to work with the team or go play tennis. And don't you ever counter my instructions. I'm the Coach!"
Play had resumed and it was even more grueling than the first half.
Hammad and four others sat in the beat up brown van and watched. Hammad and one man were able to watch through the windshield. The other three were watching using the camera and laptop. Those three ended up becoming very enthusiastic. As if they were watching a match on television. They even made wagers during the break. Hammad ignored them. It was diffusing the tension. Again he had to admit to himself the boy was good. Quite easily the star of the team. Too bad for them all. Carefully he kept watch for the parents or any possible watchers for him.
The second half was even more pitched than the first and the men knew it. It became no different that sitting somewhere else and watching a match on television. Hammad couldn't spot any obvious parents or minders for the boy. If none appeared then the plan would be successful. Patiently he sat watching.
The time was getting close. They only had one minute left of play. Once again Zane was trying to be a ball-hog and had lost it to an opposing midfielder who then lost it to Chris. Robbie signaled and raced for the goal. Chris saw an opening and kicked the ball through it. The ball bounced right into Robbie's line and he was able to tap it to stay on the ground and just as he drew even with the straight line of the goal he stepped over the ball and popped it up from behind him. As the ball went up Robbie twisted and swung his left leg up, lifting him off the ground and he kicked with his right; sending the ball right past the Goalie who had expected the ball to come from the other side as Robbie was a rightie. The team yelled out in triumph when the ball flew into the net.
Robbie yelled out and ran holding his arms up in victory. The referee blew his whistle. Game over and Robbie's team had won by one goal.
Chris almost dove to tackle Robbie, "MAN THAT WAS SO COOL!"
Other members of the team echoed the statement. They'd never really seen such a shot done. For them the coolest thing they had seen, was a guy do a hand-spring with the ball to send it in from outside.
Suddenly Robbie was shoved from behind.
"That was my goal! You were supposed to send the ball to me to score. That fancy move almost cost us the game! Flipping and turning around like a cheerleader? What's next? Wearing a skirt for the game," Zane demanded.
"You couldn't get near that goal! You almost lost us the game trying to be a ball-hog. They stole it from you. Lucky for us Chris was right there to steal it back. I had position and you didn't," Robbie said, "you didn't have position because you won't work with the team!"
Zane punched him, "I'm the star! I don't have to. You all get ME the ball and I score the goals! The rest of you pansies are just to fill the field!"
The goalie had run up and grabbed Zane into a full nelson before he could kick Robbie while he was on the ground.
"THAT'S ENOUGH ZANE," Drew yelled.
The Coach had seen it all and walked over, "Zane you're outta here!"
"You can't do that," Zane's father stated.
"Oh yes I can! You and your spoiled brat can go play tennis or something. Drew turn him loose. Chris help Robbie up," The coach ordered.
The parents of other players had rallied around the team to send Zane and his belligerent father off. Eventually everyone began to move off. Chris' parents had come to see the last half of the game. Robbie grabbed his sport bag and ball then began to walk home. His dad didn't care for Robbie playing soccer and not football, but at least winning wasn't something he complained about. Robbie crossed the field working the ball back and forth to himself. At the sidewalk he scooped up the ball with his foot, bounced it up with his knee then head and caught it. He crossed the street and walked a block down the sidewalk when a brown van turned onto a side street ahead of him. A man got out and started looking at the sign post and scratching his head then looking up and down the avenue.
"Are you lost," Robbie asked.
The man looked up at the sign again and sighed, "I must be. Ironwood lane?"
Robbie had made it to the side street and pointed down it, "its two blocks that way. See where that blue truck is?"
Robbie didn't get to finish asking. A hand with a rag was clamped over his mouth and nose. His bag and ball dropped as he was picked up and carried into the van. The rag smelled funny and he started feeling light headed and everything was looking fuzzy then went black. No cars had passed. He'd been alone.
LoneStar set the GulfStream down. It was just past noon. The small hobby field on the outskirts of Kansas City was less busy than the main airport. He steered over to two LearJets by two black SUVs. Pete was standing by one of the SUVs talking to Shawna. LoneStar swung wide and turned to park the jet in line with the others. Carl dropped the stairs and bailed out as a ground-man set chocks for the wheels. He called for a fuel truck to come over and begin refueling as everyone else de-planed.
Out of earshot of the ground-man and fuelers Shawna updated the group.
"Everybody screwed the pooch on this one. Sorry. Everybody, including me, thought they were gunning for the Congressman. They grabbed the kid an hour and a half ago. They've already contacted the house twice. Krystel was already monitoring their incoming calls. The first call traced five times back to a skype account. The second call got her past the skype and she grabbed the IP," Shawna informed them.
"FUCK," everyone exclaimed at the same time.
Lyssa asked, "are the Tangos hiding in plain sight or do they have a secure site?"
"They're hiding in an old tenement building right on the edge of a commercial area. All I have right now are satellite views. and blueprints. Krystel ran a check and only one person has utilities there for two apartments. both on the same floor," Shawna answered.
"There's only us five plus Warlock. How many Tangos on the Hard-Site," Rodrick asked.
Tiffany answered, "heat signatures currently suggest nine."
"Suggest," Lyssa asked.
Shawna nodded, "there's nine heat signatures. Assume one is the boy. Incoming message traffic indicate one off-site."
"Move now. Let's get eyes on then make the assault plan," Rodrick said.
"When's the Congressman due," Lyssa asked.
"His flight was delayed due to mechanical. He should be here in the next two hours," Tiffany said.
"Tiffany, Pete and Rodrick. Shawna and I with Warlock. Shawna on point. Let's go," Lyssa ordered.
They loaded up and rolled out. LoneStar and Madison stayed with the planes. Tiffany had met up with Pete and Madison in Memphis and rode in with him. She'd ride back with them to Memphis. Twenty minutes later they parked close enough to be able to set up a camera to watch the building. They set up their comm unit on the roof of one of the SUVs. It would relay between them, Dannigan and the Hangar. Pete set up a hyperbolic Microphone and began using it to detect sounds in the rooms. Tiffany was using a thermal scope on a sniper rifle to scan exact body placements. They were in position for thirty minutes.
"Floors one through four are silent," Pete called out over their comms.
Tiffany called out, "no heat signatures one through four. I have seven signatures on five and one on six. Wait. Two on six. One was on the roof."
"Out going comm traffic," Krystel announced, "the residence is calling a mobile. They're calling the Congressman."
"Damn his plane must've made up the time," Shawna commented.
The audio from the calls were patched through their comms. They didn't like the dialogue
"We're monitoring his phone too. He just disconnected. SHIT! He's calling the FBI," Kimberly stated.
"THAT FUCKING IDIOT," Rodrick said.
They listened to the angry dialogue. Unfortunately there was a Field Office in Kansas. A team would be waiting when the door of the plane opened for him.
Warlock was getting antsy. His commander was angry. The other two-leggeds were highly agitated too. He wanted action then go back to the little ones. At home patrol and guard the little noisy ones. Away from home was action. Find the things soldiers hate, take down the ones they don't like. He kept looking from Lyssa to the street and back. She was the one who would give him orders. Suddenly everyone came together and began talking. Warlock watched eagerly wagging his tail. Soon she would give him orders. Find or fight.
Hammad answered the cellphone, " Yes."
" He has called people. People in suits driving black SUVs. They are bringing in equipment," the voice said.
Hammad chuckled, "He has called government agents to find and capture us and save the boy. I warned him what would happen. Return to here.
He disconnected the call then went to the computer and put on the headphones with microphone. Hammad used skype and called the first phone. It forwarded through the other phones then dialed the Congressman's residence. It was answered on the third ring. He knew they would begin tracing the call.
"Brice," the congressman stated.
"We did warn you not to call in your police. You called in your agents instead of meeting our demands. For this we will take from your son the future of a man," Hammad said then disconnected.
He then took off the headphones, "come with me."
He picked up a knife along with a bucket with paper and wood in it. They went inside the room.
Robbie heard the men talking then the door opened.
"What's going on? Why did you kidnap me," Robbie asked.
A bucket was set over by the window and stuff inside were lit on fire. Two men held his arms and pulled him to sit on the floor. Two others pulled his legs apart. One man crouched down with a knife in his hand. Robbie struggled as the man cut off his shorts then the athletic supporter.
"STOP! GET OFF ME! LEMME GO! LEMME GO," Robbie yelled struggling.
The man with the knife punched him in the face and Robbie saw lights explode everywhere and went slack. In a daze the man grabbed his parts and held them roughly. It hurt, making Robbie suck in air between his teeth. The man then reached forward with the knife and drew a line up the bottom side of his sac and shaft. It felt like a line of fire. Robbie screamed in pain. The scream pitched up higher as the man started pulling the inside out and cutting it away.
Everyone had taken new positions. They all heard the conversation.
"The future of a man? What the fuck does that exactly mean," Shawna asked.
Pete snarled, "they're about to emasculate that kid."
A wild scream could be heard from inside the building.
"GO GO GO," Lyssa commanded then ran across to the front door and kicked it open.
"WARLOCK! SUCHEN," Lyssa ordered.
The Belgian shepherd bolted to the front. Find the ones to take down. He lead them up stairs. There was a noise he'd never heard before. Its sounded like it came from where the smells were stronger.
Lyssa led the team forward, the screams were now almost animalistic. She followed the tactical dog up to the fifth floor and down the hall. A door stood open that the screams seemed to be coming from. Warlock charged in.
"VERNICHTEN," Lyssa commanded as she rounded the doorway and opened fire with the CAR-15.
Warlock obeyed and leapt on the closest target, bringing him down then savaging his neck.
Yells erupted from everywhere, but it was too late. Shawna came in right behind Lyssa and began firing. Pete was next then Tiffany and Rodrick. They tore apart the three men in the room and advanced to the adjoining room. Four men were struggling to let go of the screaming boy while another stood in front of burning bucket at the window.
"ALIVE," Lyssa ordered.
They targeted from left to right with gut shots and brought them down. The last one charged with the knife. Warlock jumped and grabbed his arm, clamping down hard. The man roared in anger and pain trying now to beat the dog. The fight was done a second later as Lyssa and Rodrick smashed the butts of their assault rifled to his head.
"WARLOCK! HALTEN! LOS! LOS," Lyssa commanded for him to stop and let go..
The Belgian released the enemy's arm and edged back but ready to attack again as he growled menacingly.
"Oh my fucking God," Tiffany said.
The boy had finally run out of breath still staring down at himself.
"We have medics nearby. Do you need them," Kimberly asked.
Rodrick replied, "affirmative. Med-Evac one."
"Copy. quarter mile now inbound," Kimberly stated then asked, "status?"
Lyssa ordered Tiffany and Shawna, "Evac the boy. Command, three down, four wounded critical and one light injury. Securing now."
Tiffany and Shawna gingerly picked the boy up on each side and began to carry him out then down the stairs. When they arrived at the front door an ambulance crew had pulled up and were opening the back doors.
"WHOA! WHAT THE FUCK," a man said then saw the boy's injuries and ran around to the other side and vomited.
The woman gasped, "oh my God!"
She climbed in as the two black-clad women with facial paint lifted him inside to the gurney.
Lyssa's voice came over the comms, "Sierra Delta. Golf Mike. Be advised; anatomy is non-recoverable. The fire in the bucket was too hot. Repeat: anatomy is NON-recoverable."
Shawna whispered to the woman paramedic, "inform the emergency team that the anatomy was burned to destruction. Non-recoverable. We were too late."
Shawna then climbed out.
Tiffany grabbed the man and snarled, "we weren't here. You didn't see us. You picked the kid up on the sidewalk. Say anything else and you'll see us again."
She had dragged him by the arm to the driver's side and pushed him into the cab.
Shawna was closing the doors, "same goes for you. Now get him to the hospital now!"
The back door was slammed shut and she banged on it twice. The ambulance started up and drove off. Then the sirens and lights went on. Lyssa and the other were coming out the door when they heard tires screech. A car had stopped in the middle of the side street. The driver took out a pistol and aimed toward them.
"CONTACT NINE O' CLOCK. FIRE," Rodrick ordered.
Everyone took aim and let loose until the magazines ran dry. The inside of the car looked like a blender had gone off. Quickly they extracted. They returned to the airport and unloaded most of the gear. Shawna would stay on site until clear. She had changed back into a skirt suit and re-applied her make-up. Every one of the women had concealed their hair with bandannas. She drove off to the hospital to see what was going on. Pete and Madison were taking their time. They'd eat before leaving. Tiffany jumped in with Rodrick, Lyssa and LoneStar. They'd drop her off in Memphis.
An FBI agent answered the door to police offer.
"Uh. I'm here to pick up Congressman Brice and his wife," Officer Valdez stated.
"What," A woman asked.
"Mrs. Brice," he asked.
"We got a situation here officer. You need to go," the Agent said.
"Sorry Agent but I'm here to take the Congressman and his wife to Mercy Hospital. Their son is en route now," Ramon Valdez stated.
"Robbie's on his way to the hospital? How did you find him," Clair Brice asked.
"We didn't. An ambulance picked him up on a sidewalk. I got the call through dispatch," the cop told them.
Congressman Brice shouldered his way past the Agent, "let's go!"
He barreled out to the squad car and got in the front seat. Valdez opened the backdoor for Mrs. Brice then closed it after she was in. He then got into the driver's seat.
"COME ON WE'RE WASTING TIME," Robert Brice demanded.
"Its an important trip so I thought we'd bring mrs. Brice along too. Now buckle your seat belt asshole or I'll write you a fucking ticket," Valdez growled.
Brice shouted, "I'M A CONGRESSMAN!"
"I didn't vote for you. Now buckle up before I taze you," Valdez said as he pulled away.
Brice put on the seat belt. Minutes later they pulled up to the Emergency Room entrance. He bolted from the car and ran to the door.
"WHERE'S MY SON," he bellowed.
"Sir calm down. If you'll tell me," a woman in scrubs began to ask.
Brice shoved her out of the way, "IDIOT! MOVE!"
A security guard grabbed his arm, "hold there mister!"
Brice swung his fist at him but it was caught by Officer Valdez.
"If you don't get a fucking grip I'm gonna light you up," Valdez ordered.
"Excuse me. Our son was brought in. Robbie Brice. Where is he please," Clair asked.
"Ma'am," a man in blue scrubs called out, "this way please. I'm Doctor Micheal Collins, Trauma and Urology."
Clair and Robert followed him toward a set of doors. When they opened they could hear high pitched screaming. A nurse leaned out of a curtained area.
"He's back with us," the nurse said.
"What happened to our son," Robert demanded.
"Its very bad. I'll be honest; I haven't seen anything like this since I was with Doctors Without Borders," Micheal stated.
He led the directly to the curtained area the screaming was coming from. It was dropping down now.
Robbie looked up and saw his parents with horror-struck expressions.
"I'm afraid he's been completely emasculated," Micheal said softly.
"Momma. Daddy. Help. Hurts. They took. They took," Robbie croaked out.
He had screamed so much his voice was barely a whisper.
Clair went over and hugged Robbie, " shhh Baby. We're here."
"There's no way to salvage. He has two options. We can remove the last remnants or we can re-assign," Micheal stated.
Robert looked at him, "what do you mean by 're-assign'?"
"There is enough viable tissue left to reconstruct into a vagina. With the proper hormonal regime female puberty can be induced. I've consulted with a specialist. She was in town giving a lecture. She's on her way. Doctor Bronson is the leading surgeon for reconstruction. She should be here any moment," Dr. Collins informed them.
"That moment is now Doctor Collins. Oh my," a woman stated walking up.
"What are you talking about? You mean some kind of sex change? My son isn't a freak," Robert Brice said loudly.
"Nobody said he was," Doctor Bronson said looking closely at the boy's mutilated groin.
She stood up an shook her head, "there's not a lot to work with. This was intentional. Doctor Collins is correct though. There is enough to perform a vaginaplasty. In time a normal relationship can be enjoyed. Luckily there is some of the nerve cluster left. We don't have much time though."
"NOW LOOK HERE LADY! YOU'RE NOT TURNING MY SON INTO SOME KIND OF QUEER FREAK," Robert shouted.
"A eunuch with mental dysfunction would be a cruelty," Dr. Bronson stated.
Clair asked, "you said a normal relationship? As a woman?"
Dr. Bronson nodded, "yes. Normal except for no menstrual cycles or pregnancy. Otherwise yes."
"I'LL BE RUINED POLITICALLY. I FORBID IT," Robert shouted.
"If we don't do something in the next ten minutes he'll be dead," Dr. Collins reminded them all.
Clair walked over to the doctors, "I'll sign the release or waiver. Save my baby."
Robert abruptly back-handed her. Clair went straight to the floor.
"DON'T YOU UNDERMINE ME! I SAID I FORBID IT," Robert screamed at her.
Everyone froze. A woman walked up and pressed a gun to back of his head.
"Freeze," a calm voice said.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM? I'LL HAVE YOU IN PRISON," Robert screamed.
"You're an idiot that just pissed me off when I'm having a bad day to begin with. You Bureau jack asses better put away those sidearms," Shawna said flatly.
"Lady who do you think you are," The Agent in charge said angrily.
Shawna flashed her credentials, "Susan Caldwell. National Security Agency. Counter-Terror Operations, Domestic. Every single swingin' richard's NIGHTMARE and I'm taking charge of your by-the-numbers clusterfuck!"
The Agents put away their guns. None of them wanted to get any further on the wrong side of such an Agent.
"I'll have your JOB! I'LL SHUT DOWN THE AGENCY! I'LL HAVE YOU THROWN IN PRISON," Robert Brice now screamed.
"You're in deep enough shit as it is, dickhead. You bypassed all procedures and protocols and that kid paid for your arrogance.. Doctors. Save that kid. Ma'am. If you can stand go with them. Do what needs to be done," Shawna ordered.
"Let's go. Prep the patient and get him to O.R. STAT," Doctor Bronson instructed.
"HOW DARE YOU," Robert shouted.
Shawna triggered of a shot right beside his head into the wall. He wet himself and fainted.
"Get that idiot out of here," Shawna ordered the FBI agents.
They promptly picked him up and carried him out. Shawna then followed to the surgical waiting room. She took out her phone and called the Hangar.
"Go," Kimberly answered.
"Maintain the tap on Brice's hard-lines and cellphones. I have a feeling this is gonna go sideways. Have Pete and Madison left," Shawna asked.
"No they're still at the airfield. What do you need," Kimberly asked.
Shawna talked fast, "we may have to extract the mother and kid. Brice is going ape-shit because they're doing an emergency re-assignment. Have Madison pose as Social Services or something. She needs paperwork for an emergency divorce and possible transfer of custody for the kid to the Agency. Tell Pete to play Marshal or something. I'm playing NSA."
"We're all over it. We got other problems. The incident made the national news. The Texas group is on the move. We think they're heading for Florida or Mexico," Kimberly said then disconnected.
Shawna went over to Clair. Twenty minutes later she finished signing the last form. A nurse came and took the forms, made a copy and returned the originals.
"Am I doing the right thing Miss, uh, Agent? I'm sorry. I'm not sure how to address you," Clair said.
Shawna patted her hand, "Susan is fine. I believe you're doing the only thing you can right now. I made a call. Some things are out of my ability. The people that did this to your son weren't alone. We don't know where the rest are. The two of you may have to go into protective custody."
Clair buried her face in her hands, "What they've done isn't enough for those monsters? They still would come after my baby?"
Shawna nodded, "yes. They failed in their priority. That means they want revenge. Help is coming for you though."
The elevator chimed and a woman in a tan skirt and white blouse came out carrying a legal case.
"Hello. Are you Agent Caldwell," She asked.
"Yes. This is Clair Brice," Shawna said.
"Hello Clair. I'm sorry your having such a troubling time. My name is Madison. I work for the Department of Justice. I understand there is a very dangerous situation here," Madison said.
Shawna nodded, "there is where I leave you Clair. This is my card, just in case. Best of luck."
"I can take it from here Agent Caldwell," Madison said.
Shawna left them. Madison opened her case and brought out several pages. Carefully she explained them and Clair quickly signed. Madison handed her the final page.
"This one is the 'last resort' page. This transfers custody of Robbie into our care should anything happen to you. Firstly, I assure you Robbie would not be put into the system. Secondly; his protection would be at the forefront. He wouldn't have ordinary foster parents. He would be looked after by the finest agents. Protected," Madison explained.
Clair nodded, "its that bad then. Promise me Robert would never be able to find him either."
Madison nodded, "I promise."
Clair signed the form and handed it back.
Madison looked it over and tucked it into the case with the others, "that's it. As I understand you're in that great of danger. Once Robbie is stable we'll transfer to a more secure medical center. Right now can you get home and pack a few things for yourself? Whatever you can't live without for three days. When you and Robbie leave here, you don't come back, ever."
Clair nodded, "I understand. I'll be back in an hour and a half."
Madison nodded, "I'll be right here."
Clair left in a hurry. Madison sighed and checked in with Pete. Pete was waiting with the plane fueled and ready to take off whenever she arrived.
An hour later Doctor Bronson came out. Madison informed her and showed her the paperwork. She told Madison that Robbie was now in Recovery and as bad as the injury was, she was confident the results would be undetectable. Madison thanked her and asked that Robbie be prepared for travel as soon as possible. The doctor advised against it but would make the necessary preparations.
Madison had went to the ladies' room and was just about to sit back down in the waiting area when her phone rang.
She answered it, "Madison."
"GRAB THE KID AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE NOW," Shawna yelled.
Madison rushed to the window and looked down at the parking lot for enemies, "what happened? Clair isn't back yet!"
"CLAIR'S DEAD! BRICE CALLED A JUDGE AND DIRTY SHRINK. THEY DID AN OD ON HER TO MAKE HER COMMITTABLE. IT BACKFIRED AND SHE DIED. RIP THE BRACELET OFF ROBBIE AND LEAVE IT WITH THE DOC. GET THE TWO OF YOU OUT OF THERE NOW. I'LL COVER UP FOR YOU," Shawna ordered.
"WE'RE GONE," Madison said and disconnected.
She grabbed the case and rushed down the hallway until she found the Recovery room. Quickly she tried to get the bracelet off Robbie's wrist.
"What are you doing," Doctor Bronson demanded.
"Clair's just been killed! We have to get Robbie out of here now. Get this bracelet off. The Agent is coming back to cover up what's happening to Robbie. HURRY," Madison said.
Doctor Bronson had a gut feeling that the shit had hit the fan and now was the time to salvage whatever could be. She went with the feeling and quickly slit the bracelet off. She then went and brought in a travel gurney. Together they transferred Robbie to it and disconnected the monitors. The gurney had an IV pole so she hung it.
"We need a way out that's not watched and an ambulance," Madison stated.
Doctor Collins spoke up, "this way."
The three of them rolled the gurney down the hall to the service elevator and rode down to the first floor. They went through a side door and were out in the parking lot. There were four ambulances lined up. Dr. Collins opened the door of the first one. A young man was stocking supplies.
"What's up," The paramedic asked.
The gurney was shoved inside taking up the last of the space. Madison climbed in then turned to the Doctors.
"When the Agent comes back give her the bracelet. You know nothing else," Madison said.
The sheet had been pulled to cover Robbie's face. She pulled her gun out after the doors were closed.
"Listen close. I'm a Federal Agent. Drive. No radio, no sirens, running lights only. Take us to the hobby airfield," Madison said firmly.
The driver had turned around and been listening.
"Ma'am we'll take you anywhere you wanna go. If you can prove what you are then I got no problem," The driver said.
Madison pulled a Marshal ID and badge.
"Works for me," He said and started up the ambulance and drove away calmly, "this never happened, right?"
Madison nodded, "right."
Thirty minutes later a LearJet took off heading east. Another took off an hour later.
Blake yawned as he drove. It was early in the morning. He'd finish this circuit then go home and take a nap. He soon found himself pulling in at DarkHouse. The Camaro was parked under the portico. She was back. Blake got out and went to the side door. He was about to knock but could hear music on. It was loud. Gingerly he tried the knob. It turned easily.
"This is a bad idea," he said to himself but opened the door anyway.
The music was loud. He let himself in and looked around. Slowly he worked his way upstairs. Light filtered from under a door. He quietly tried the knob and opened it. Just as it opened he heard a scream. He almost slammed the door shut and bolted but hesitated. It wasn't a scream of shock or fear. It was a scream of horror. He edged the door open more. Inside he saw steam. She was in the shower. He could just barely see her reflection in the mirror.
Shawna was slumped in the shower now crying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Blake eased back, closed the door and went back downstairs. He knew that where ever she had been, things went wrong. They went wrong and she hadn't been alone.Now in a personal Hell because of it. He moved to the kitchen and saw the screen on her phone lit up.
a message read:
Blake shook his head. He knew enough to know that was military or Intelligence chatter. He locked the door on his way out and climbed back into the patrol unit. He'd give her til the afternoon before trying to visit. Maybe he'd find a way to be the grand fool and make her smile somehow.
author's note- a special thank you goes out to Joanne Foxcourt. I read her story Audra and I wondered what would happen if the O.I.C.A. encounter something similar. Things definitely go differently. For better and worse. stay tuned. I'm far from done.
The Chrysalis Project Book 4: Iron Dolphin
Not all the problems in Florida were resolved. CyberForce was targeted not only by terrorists WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Dannigan wanted to groan. It appeared he needed to update his bar list and remove this one. He had to admit though, it had been a year since he visited this one. Over a third of the female patrons held a Cosmopolitan and he'd heard of ten different variations of Martinis so far. His problem was that the bartender took three tries to make a Rusty Nail. She still got it wrong. To him the only redeeming factor was the textbook. When she exchanged her tips she was slipping the larger bills into a copy of Modern Criminal Psychology. He hoped she was a better profiler than bartender.
"How's the service here," A voice asked.
Dannigan hid the smirk and looked at the speaker, "jury's out. Then again, this isn't Cartagena."
"Spain was great that time of year. I heard El Toro D'oro burned down. Some new place was built there. Teeny-boppers or some such," the man informed him.
Dannigan shrugged, "Isn't that crowd right up your alley these days Admiral?"
The Admiral signaled the bartender, "young lady would it be possible to get just a simple crown and seven?"
She nodded with a smile and brought the drink over and picked up the offered bill. He waved off the change.
The Admiral sipped his drink and sighed, "God gimme the old days back. Send in a platoon of SEALs or Recons to pilfer and plunder whatever the Hell is so important and blow up the rest. It's almost to the point we have to run incursion ops for three days so some embassy CIA dickhead can go for a morning jog."
Dannigan chuckled, "What's the matter Bryan, you mean YOU don't like being in charge of the military equivalent of Bill Gates' romper room in Tampa, filled with a bunch early to mid twenties bespectacled lads that obsess over cartoon girls with giant tits in school girl outfits? You have to get with the times down there."
"Save me from the future; its weirder than I ever thought it would be," Bryan groaned then finished the last of the drink.
Dannigan chuckled then noticed Bryan's expression change looking in the mirror behind the bar.
Bryan used his left hand to signal her again but started tapping the fingers of his right hand on the bar. Dannigan followed the tapping. It was Morse code.
"Hey beautiful. Could you swing a refill? Oh and give this guy here one too. He looks pitiful. Like his dog just shot his best friend," Bryan nodded to Dannigan.
The tapping spelled out: Need help bad. Don't know who to trust. CyberForce compromised.
"He was a good friend. I knew that dog was no good. He kept forgetting to flush after reading the paper," Dannigan said.
Dannigan tapped back: Who is tailing you?
"I bet a nice young thing like her would ease some grief," Bryan commented.
He tapped again: No clue and not important now. I made contact with you, ball in your court.
Dannigan shook his head, "I'd have to be a D.A. or better for a chance. Thanks for the drink."
The bartender came back and set down the two drinks.
Bryan laid two twenties on the bar and downed his drink, "Keep the change honey. Good luck with that dog of yours. I'd turn it loose if it were mine."
"Not bad advice. Might do that," Dannigan nodded, "thanks for the drink."
He watched in the mirror as Bryan left. Two men left thirty seconds later but nodded to another pair. He sat and finished the drink slowly.
"Would like that freshened up," the bartender asked.
Dannigan tossed a five on the bar, "no thanks. I've got to go deal with a couple of strays I wound up with."
The girl gave him a suspicious look, "people shouldn't discard their pets. If you don't want them you should take them to the shelter so they can be adopted."
Dannigan stood up, "my thoughts exactly. People should be more responsible with their pets. Good luck with the FBI exam Trudy. And never take work home with you."
Dannigan walked casually down the street. He checked reflections in the occasional window to ensure the two men were following him. He made a left and stepped up to two foot patrol officers.
"Excuse me. Which way to the Jefferson Memorial," Dannigan asked.
The cops nodded in a bored manner, "two blocks up take a left and you'll see it on the right."
"Ah. Thanks. I'm terrible at this. I thought I had gotten turned bass-ackwards again," Dannigan said and walked off happily.
Several minutes later he encounter the same two cops in the same spot again.
Dannigan shook his head, "I did it again."
The cop sighed, "two blocks up, take a LEFT and you'll SEE it on the right Sir."
Dannigan nodded, "thanks again. Sorry for the trouble."
One of the cops noticed two men that looked familiar. A few minutes later Dannigan ran into them again.
"OH NO. You said two blocks right and I'll see it on the left didn't you," Dannigan asked.
"No Mister I didn't. Have you been drinking? I thought smelled alcohol earlier," The first cop stated.
Dannigan shook his head, "I'm ok really. I just got turned around. All I have to do is get to the Jefferson memorial and then I can see the hotel."
"Two blocks up. Turn left and you'll see it on the right. Mister if I see you again I'll have to take you in for public intoxication," the first cop warned him.
Dannigan shook his head, "oh I wouldn't want that. I'll try to get it right this time Officer."
They watched Dannigan leave again. This time they both took notice of the two men following him and stopped them.
"I guess you're lost too. Figure you follow him because he's makin' good time," The second officer challenged.
One of the men glared, "step aside."
Both officers immediately gripped their sidearms and flipped the thumb guard over.
"Better show us some ID. SLOW," the first officer ordered.
"He turned the corner," the second guy said to the first.
The second man reached into the pocket of his windbreaker and flashed an a case, "D.O.D. now MOVE."
The first cop shook his head, "posse comitatus asshole. I was an MP. You're going downtown and the jerks with the higher pay-grades can sort this out."
The second officer called in a patrol car. He also mentioned over the radio that they were detaining to members of D.O.D. for following a civilian and neither were Army C.I.D. or N.C.I.S. Two hours later the two men walked out of a precinct, angry. They were angry for the cops for detaining them, angry with themselves for being stopped in the first place and even more so for not getting a picture of the man they were following to begin with.
Once Dannigan had went around the corner he ducked down an alley and ran. One block away he came out and went left until he saw a cab and flagged it down. A quick ride to the Georgetown mall and he went inside. After four department stores he went out through one and caught the bus. He got off close to a station and took a subway. He changed trains twice more and picked up a stash car then drove to the office.
Krystel answered the conference window, "burning the late oil Major?"
"You could say that Evanson. Where's Kimberly," Dannigan asked.
Krystel gave him a blank look, "she and LoneStar went home already. They're parents now, remember?"
Dannigan could be seen to lean back in his chair, "Actually that slipped my mind for the moment. How's that going?"
Krystel shrugged, "three people in one house and two of them keep waking everybody else up with screams during the night. Other than the insomnia its going fine. Mindy's started her schooling. She's a smart kid. The other two are kind of giving her 'girl lessons'. She's not thrilled with those but she's trying. She wandered into the studio and saw how vicious Lyssa is with Tiffany and that may have put her off ballet. She also stumbled onto a hand-to-hand eval. Lyssa against Tiffany AND Shawna."
"How bad did she work them over," Dannigan asked.
"I envy them. They only get evaluated when they come in. I get one every week and have my butt handed to me. Mindy saw. We think she might be a little afraid of Lyssa now," Krystel admitted.
Dannigan nodded, "not surprising about those results. Lyssa did invent the fighting style you're all trained in. Of the fourteen people that were originally taught it; only eight are still able to use it. The three of you brings that back up to eleven."
"Eleven? Only eleven people in the world know the fighting style? Wait. You said fourteen people were taught originally. Plus us. Why only those eight can still use it," Krystel asked.
"The rest are dead Evanson. KIA on Lyssa's final mission as a DemonWraith," Dannigan said flatly, "four in captivity with her and two more during the second retrieval a week later."
"OH SHIT," Krystel exclaimed.
Dannigan nodded, "yeah that's a topic better off not being brought up with her. She'll hit you for real. I remember the last time I did. I'd rather be shot."
Krystel shook her head, "I don't know fuck-all!"
"Uh-huh. Well back to current matters. Get with Kimberly in the morning and work up a packet. You're going to Tampa. There's a problem at CyberForce and you're deploying. Shawna is being tasked too but that's a smoke screen for you going in. She'll be on site for an hour or two to distract any watchers," Dannigan stated.
Krystel nodded as she wrote it down, "yes Sir. Anything else?"
Dannigan nodded, "yeah. I don't want you billeted in with other technicians. Find some kind of safe house away from all that."
"Rodrick said he has a friend in Tampa. Maybe he can help," Krystel proposed.
"Get on it Evanson. You've got two days to prep and deploy on day three," Dannigan said then closed the conference.
It was day two. The group had gathered in the war room. Kimberly ran the briefing. Shawna was attending via conference window as was Dannigan. All the major points had been outlined.
"So my role is strictly to go in and meet the C.O. Colonel Groves," Shawna verified.
Kimberly nodded, "correct. Use the new Senate defense credentials. Oh by the way. Lose the Caldwell NSA credentials. Those are too hot. You'll have new ones issued in two weeks under a different name."
"Brice," Shawna asked.
Kimberly shook her head, "FBI. They raised a big stink and the NSA filed that with a complaint filed by the C.I.A. and now that identity is compromised."
Everyone chuckled at that.
"Krystel is going in as Karen Ellington of the D.I.A. on loan to D.O.D. but her paperwork will only say D.O.D. Somebody serious will find that she's really D.I.A.," Kimberly said.
"I'll be listed as an Ice Queen for D.O.D. If they manage to get through that they'll see that I'm really a Sorceress for D.I.A.," Krystel explained.
Everyone was up on their terminology. Ice Kings and Queens were defensive specialists. They built data fortresses and defended them. Sorcerers and Sorceress was an offensive specialist. They penetrated systems. They didn't just sneak in and steal, they battered the system down and ravaged it completely before killing it all together. Krystel's real classification was Deity, meaning she could do both at the same time. Alone. She was the type that would lose themselves into cyberspace. Not for hours, but days. If not watched carefully her kind would actually work themselves to death from dehydration and malnutrition. The burn-out rate was high; seven out of ten would work themselves to death or insanity.
Actually Deity was her previous classification, when she was in the Navy. Now there was no classification for her. No other technicians could do what she was now capable of. If necessary she could physically penetrate a site and access a system. Others would have to wait for a team to go in and establish a link for the specialist to work through. This was in the event of Stand-Alone systems. Krystel's counter-insurgency, counter-terror training now gave her the skills to go there herself. In fact, she may very well be the only of her kind. That prospect had not been lost on any of them.
Rodrick spoke up, "Krystel will be staying with somebody I know. He's an old hand from the teams. He was on Team Two back in Nam. He spent time as a Black Hat when the training went to Coronado. He retired from Team Four in the late nineties to Tampa. He was my Sea-Daddy back in the day. I trust him. It goes way back."
"Name," Dannigan asked.
"Malone. Sylvester Malone. Known in the Teams as Bugsy. Retired Master Chief. Started out in UDT. When I got tapped to go after Kagan he advised me to pass. Let them send somebody else. When I woke up in the hospital he was there. I said I was resigning and he said I was being generous. He would've shot the one who came up with the idea of sending me," Rodrick said.
"Reading his file now. Yeah. I'm ok with him. He still has the standard SEAL clearance. Ok people. Do what you do best," Dannigan said then closed out.
Shawna nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow Krystel. I already arranged a car for you. Pick it up in the lot of the private terminal. The keys are in the ladies room taped under the vanity, far side."
"Thanks Shawna. We're out," Kimberly said then closed the conference.
Everyone broke for final prep.
Chapter 2
Mindy sat on the edge of the bed. She had rushed over as soon as breakfast was done. Of all her aunts Krystel was her favorite. She sat watching her finish packing the travel case. Skirts, blouses, heels, boots, swimsuit, lingerie, spare purse, cosmetics, some jewelry and a laptop on top. Underneath the false bottom were the custom form-fitted black battlesuit, weapons' rig and weapons. Krystel would carry two ten millimeter Glocks, a nine millimeter five shot micro-pistol, and Fairbarne-Applegate knife. Mindy didn't know about all that.
"You're leaving Aunt Kryssie," Mindy asked.
Krystel nodded as she finished adjusting the contents of the case, "yeah sweetie. Sometimes I have to go other places for work."
"You mean bad people are doing things with computers and you have to go find 'em and stop 'em," Mindy surmised.
Krystel slid her main Laptop into a travel case, "that's right."
The ten year old frowned, "secret stuff. Everybody does secret stuff. Except me. I am secret stuff."
"Hey. None of that talk," Krystel chided her then did one last check.
Mindy followed her out of the trailer and carried the laptop case. Krystel pulled her travel case and had her purse on her shoulder. They went to the tarmac in front of the main hangar. The Learjet was being prepped.
Krystel looked at her as they drew near, "oh. And no sneaking off to PrincessLand without your Mom watching until I get back."
"Yes Aunt Kryssie," Mindy sighed.
As a training tool Krystel had introduced her to the online simulator game for pre-teens. At first Mindy wasn't interested but it soon appealed to her. She now had friends from all over the world her age. The conversations with them were helping to build a more appropriate vocabulary and dialogue structure. Slowly but surely she was learning how to talk just like the girls her own age. The problem was the same problem that plagued any virtual world inhabited by children; predators. Twice people had tried to hack Mindy's location. Krystel of course detected the attempts and back-hacked the would-be penetrators. Local police were alerted to their presence and activities. She then proceeded to 'lock' their systems. Not even resetting or unplugging would help. The screen would come up and display all illegal content.
"Hey now. You aren't trying to stowaway are you pipsqueak," Rodrick asked walking out of the hangar.
Mindy shook her head, "no Uncle Rodrick. Uncle Carl promised to show how to snorkel today, but that's later."
Rodrick nodded, "sounds cool. You got a while before classes start. You can play Hide and Go Seek with Warlock."
"No way. Warlock always wins," Mindy said then handed over the laptop case.
"Well its one of his favorite games," Rodrick chuckled.
He bent down and hugged her then went up the plane's stairs. Krystel handed up her case then gave Mindy a hug.
"You be good. I shouldn't be long. Get going now," Krystel said and patted her on the butt to send her back from the plane.
Mindy knew the rules; stay back from the planes, no playing on the runway or in the ocean without an adult watching and no going south of the runway. It didn't take her long to know the reason behind that one, that's where they shot guns. Mindy tried playing fetch with Warlock. It didn't take her long to figure out he'd never bring anything back he was told to find. He would just sit there and yip to tell you he found it. When he found her, he barked. Mindy ran inside and climbed the stairs to the tower. LoneStar was up there.
"Hi Daddy," Mindy said.
LoneStar looked down and guided her to sit on the stool. Mindy climbed up and sat watching. LoneStar had a cable connected to his helmet. She had learned already that it was to the built-in communications. His helmet cable was compatible with any aircraft comms. He plugged in to the tower so he didn't have to take his helmet off to talk over a mic. He could also be heard over the speakers inside the control room.
"Tower to Ramrod. Clear to taxi," LoneStar said.
A few minutes later he called back, "in position Tower."
LoneStar checked the displays, "Clear for takeoff. Vector on heading two-eight-five at Angels two-four."
"Copy two-eight-five, angels two-four," Rodrick replied.
Mindy watched as the plane rolled forward then lifted off and headed north.
"Daddy. Why are we here," Mindy asked.
LoneStar unplugged from the comm system and leaned against the counter, "well do you mean figuratively or literally?"
"Literally," Mindy answered.
LoneStar crossed his arms, "Rodrick owns the island. He bought it to run his charter service because he was pretending to be shady. Its a good place for us all to hide while we train and run operations."
"Or just plain hide. Like me," Mindy said.
"And me. Its not so easy for me to be around in the states without drawing attention," LoneStar said, "Maria and the girls too. For them its kind of like witness protection but with strings attached."
"Strings," Mindy asked.
LoneStar shook his head, "not my business so I don't know. And before you even ask, yes I'm fine with that. I'm used to working on 'need-to-know' basis. We all are."
Mindy sighed, "secret stuff. Everybody but me, 'cause I am secret stuff."
"You get used to it," LoneStar patted her back, "or more like, you get used to it being around, in your case. Its like cold and flu season. People around you have to deal with it but you don't get it."
Mindy frowned.
He picked her up and started walking down the stairs, "let's put it in perspective. You've watched tv. There are real shows about spies and armies and all that right?"
"Uh-huh," Mindy answered.
"You knew about that but you never saw it. Now you really know about it but you still don't get to watch," LoneStar explained.
"Ok. Makes sense. So its there, but we don't talk about it. Unless we're part of what's going on," Mindy asked.
He nodded, "yep. Its called compartmentalizing. Like the lunch trays at school. Things don't mix unless they're supposed to."
They stopped at the classroom trailer and he opened the door and set her inside. Kristine and Kasey greeted them. Their day officially started then.
"I'll admit Miss Daniels. Its very odd for somebody on the sub-committee to come down here," the Air Force Colonel remarked.
Shawna nodded, "how's that old song go? These times, they are a changin'. Cyber attacks are increasing and we are hearing about it more often now. That makes a lot of people worry. As well they SHOULD worry. I'd like to say this isn't about politics, but I'd be lying. Voters do want to know that we are strong. The less they hear, the less they worry."
Groves nodded, "no news is good news. I get it, trust me."
"CyberOperations isn't like other fields. Sometimes the best doesn't come from structure or convention. Thinking outside the box tends to reign supreme," Shawna commented.
"Oh I FULLY understand that. I've been in command here for two years and still being called 'the Colonel Dude'," Groves shook his head.
Shawna shrugged, "the main consensus is that technicians aren't enough. What's needed are the cyber equivalent of Firebase commanders. Small working groups, that not only have technicians, but also have a leader with the working skill sets. I understand you proposed something similar last year."
A young woman in a Marine uniform knocked then opened the door, "Colonel. You wanted to be notified."
Shawna checked her watch, "oh. I seemed to have gone over the time I had asked for. My apologies Colonel."
"Not at all Miss Daniels. Its actually been a pleasure meeting with you. You're one of a handful that have come here on fact-finding and understood the facts," Colonel Groves stood up and offered a handshake.
He wasn't surprised when she did so in the Euro-style, a quick once up-down. The Senate investigator had been surprising in every other way. She had come in carrying only a portfolio with over forty very pointed questions. The kind asked by someone intending a complete upgrade of the system. After the first two questions he understood 'pat answers' would do no good. Technical would suffice but she was interested in actual working information. The kind that you get from the Arena.
The Arena was the room where the technicians ran operations of defense and sometimes offense. Two hundred terminals with only thirty that were user dedicated. Almost three-quarters were manned during the day while all of them were manned during the night.
The Colonel walked with her to the door, "I hope I've been a help. Have a safe trip back to D.C."
Shawna nodded with a smile as he held the door, "Thank you very much. I hope you have quiet day."
A woman in a cream color skirt and white blouse stood waiting. He noticed the departing woman nodded to his desk sergeant then the civilian woman, who nodded back.
"Come right in please," the Colonel invited.
"Thank you," Krystel said and went inside.
She handed him a set of papers, "Karen Ellington. I was sent by D.O.D. to run a systems check."
He read them over. The authorization was very high. It was the same as his own when he was posted. he exact purpose was vague though, which could mean a myriad of things. More than likely his clearance wasn't as high as hers and things were being compartmentalized.
"Well you'll find some ways to thicken the ICE. Just let us know how best to help you," Groves said.
Krystel was surprised. He wasn't being defensive. Most that were in commands such as this, they immediately assumed they were being blamed for something. Apparently he'd been around long enough to understand evolution. It happened and so should their own to maintain status.
Krystel had to comment, "that's a good stance to have Colonel."
"Miss Ellington I'm not a technician. I know enough about computers around here to look stupid. I've seen others come in and try to BS their way around and got laughed out of the building with a simple prank. My experience here tells me to pretty much get out of your way and get you whatever you say you need. Within reason," Groves stated.
"Oh don't worry. I won't harass you're command with outlandish requests," Krystel laughed.
Groves chuckled, "you have no idea how relieved that makes me. I'll have someone show you to a dedicated terminal."
Krystel stood up, "thank you."
"I'm not so proud to fool myself into not accepting any help that comes our way. We need it and I know," Groves admitted.
"Aye aye Sir," Krystel said and saluted with her left hand, the back of her fingers flat to her forehead.
She had also pronounced 'Sir' as 'S-AHh'.
Groves groaned, "please Miss Ellington. Let's not see THAT again. I'm Air Force and that was a naval affirmative to a british superior using a backwards british salute. I think you just set a record; for insulting two branches of the U.S. service and the British too at the same time."
Krystel giggled, "oops! How about I just go do my thing."
The Colonel had started to show her out, "I think that would be best, yes."
Krystel walked out and took note of the sailor standing there, "Here for me?"
He nodded, "yes Ma'am."
"Single-up and all ahead standard Sailor," Krystel ordered.
"AYE MA'AM," He called out and turned on his heel to stride forward.
Groves shook his head. He'd got played. Her faux-pas had been intentional as humor. She'd played the blonde air-head for four seconds and he'd bought it. Just another reminder that nobody should be taken at face value. Intelligence shouldn't be assumed, it would be proven.
Krystel followed the young sailor to the elevator and went down three floors and got out. He led her into a very large room.
"Welcome to the Arena Ma'am. Right this way," He announced.
Krystel glanced around as he guided her through. There were cubicles everywhere and in the center of the room there seemed to be an abbreviated briefing going on with a working group of eight, looking at four screens scrolling code. High on the wall were six large plasma screens. the middle left screen scrolling green code, the others blank. The cubicles mostly reflected the personalities occupying them. Usually decorated for civilian techs while the ones manned by military personnel were adorned in a subdued, professional manner. They stopped in front of one along the wall at the end of a row. It held seven screens.
"Here you are Ma'am. This one is for your use and set up as you specified," the sailor stated.
Krystel looked it over and nodded, "well done Sailor. Carry on."
"Aye Ma'am," He said then left.
Krystel set her purse on the shelf under the desk then opened her laptop case. She took out her MP3 player, Headset and cables. In seconds she was jacked in and used her pass-codes to gain access. Krystel selected a track mix on the player and hit play. Unnoticed by her, she selected the mix titled 'Dive 14' and not 'Dive 1'. Both started the same so her mistake continued. All seven screens lit up and began displaying codes. Soon she focused and the rest of the world fell away.
Matt had went to the bathroom and came back. He noticed the terminal at the end was now occupied. Everyone in that area had seen the crew come in and set it up. They were all curious. Almost all the terminals had two screens, some had three but only a select few had four and those were usually operated at night. The interesting part wasn't that the operator was a woman; it was that the woman seemed attractive in the conventional sense. He decided to check her out later and went back to his terminal. Four hours later he shut down for the day and picked up his things. A glance down the row confirmed she was still there, but now had an audience. Three techs stood back watching. He joined them and had his jaw hit the floor. All seven screens were displaying different codes and shifting from one to the others. The part that had them all fascinated was the speed at which the codes were scrolling.
"Damn dude. Hot chick is blasting across the ICE," one of the guys muttered.
The others nodded and murmured their agreement. Matt wasn't sure it was in appreciation of her skills or looks. From what he could see, both were noteworthy.
"Might as well go home. I doubt she's doing anything else anytime soon," A female tech said and wandered off.
The others agreed and began making their own way out. Matt did too. He met up with Sergeant Florentine in the elevator.
"Hi Leslie," Matt greeted the female Marine.
she nodded back, "Hi Matt. Quiet day."
Matt nodded back, "just the way we like it. Hey Leslie. I hate to bring this up. I heard back from one of my previous applications. Its out on the west coast. They're reconsidering me. If they hire me would the Colonel have a conniption if I don't give a full two weeks?"
Leslie sighed, "he won't be thrilled. Damn private sector."
Matt chuckled, "Its not just about the money Les. The benefits package are top shelf. Plus perks."
"USC Coeds should not be called 'perks' Matt," Leslie replied slightly agitated.
Matt leaned closer, "car and a condo. THOSE are perks Leslie, ladies are ladies."
The Marine shook her head, "nice catch Matt. How you tell him will make the difference."
"It shouldn't be that big of a deal. I saw a new face today. Looked serious," Matt remarked.
Leslie shook her head again, "the D.O.D. woman? Just here to evaluate. I doubt she'd even accept a drink invitation."
"Considering everybody thinks she's going to be at it for hours. That's a given," Matt remarked.
"Hours? She just got here this afternoon," Leslie said.
Matt nodded, "yeah. The way she's moving across the ICE; her eval will be done by morning. coming?"
The elevator had stopped at the ground floor and opened. The sergeant shook her head as he got out.
"I forgot something," Leslie said and pushed to go back up.
Matt looked at her puzzled as the doors closed. He shrugged and left.
"Colonel. I think we may have a problem," Leslie said barging into his office.
Colonel Groves, "what?"
Leslie used a remote and called up a video feed from the Arena and zoomed to Krystel, "one of the techs made a comment. The D.O.D. woman may be diving."
Groves was out of his chair and strode over to the monitor, "oh shit! How far has she gone?"
Leslie shrugged, "we have to assume she's been from the start."
"FUCK! Why wasn't that in her paperwork," He swore then went over to his phone and buzzed an extension.
The call was answered and he spoke fast, "Commander Melton. Terminal one-seven. Yes, its in service. Put a minder on the operator. I think she's a diver. No, don't interrupt her. Just keep watch. If she shows any stress notify me immediately. Right, take the standard precautions."
Leslie asked after he disconnected, "should I stay?"
The Colonel shook his head, "no Sergeant. The Commander is now aware and he'll look out for her. Damn it. She said nothing."
Leslie shrugged, "maybe she uses timers and set it herself?"
"It should have been in her paperwork. Damn higher-ups. Go ahead and head out Sergeant. We're back in hand now," Groves stated.
The Marine nodded and left with a salute. Grove went back over to the monitor and watched.
"How deep are you going to go and for how long," Groves asked to nobody.
Krystel popped. A cramp hit her. She blinked her eyes to refocus and suddenly felt the very strong urge to pee. She pulled the earbuds out and slowly stood up and turned around. The same sailor that had showed her to the terminal stood there waiting.
"Ma'am," he said.
Krystel nodded, "as you were. Where's the ladies' room Sailor?"
He turned around and pointed, "over there Ma'am. That small hallway and on the right. First door."
Krystel secured the terminal and did her best to retain her calm demeanor but walked quickly. She sat down inside just in time. She estimated three more seconds and her worry would be over in a negative way. A glance at her watch said it was only four in the afternoon. Only it was the next day. Krystel wanted to groan. She had selected the wrong playlist and ended up diving instead of skimming. She finished her business, washed her hands and walked out. There was a snack area right across so she pulled money from her purse and bought a bottle of water and drank it. It was empty in a few seconds.
"Damn. I never thought drinking water could look so hot. I'll never look at a bottle the same," a male voice said.
Krystel turned around and saw the speaker. A civilian. six foot two-ish, about a hundred and eighty to two hundred, medium length light brown hair, brown eyes and wrong. Something was wrong. He wasn't right.
"That so," Krystel asked and looked back at the machine.
The man nodded, "Hells yeah."
"Miss Ellington," another voice called out.
Krystel looked over, "that would be me."
He nodded, "yes ma'am. I was notified you had surfaced. Its after sixteen hundred."
Krystel finally decided and purchased a diet soda, "thank you."
"Thursday," the Commander added.
Krystel cracked the cap and deliberately sipped seductively in profile to the other man then smirked, "only thursday Commander?"
She turned away from the other man and winked at the officer as she walked by, heading back to the terminal.
Matt had watched her walk away and wanted to drool, "damn Commander Melton. Where'd they find HER?"
"On the job Collins," the Commander replied then walked away.
Matt nodded, "right. We're on the job."
He bought a soda and went back to his own terminal. A quick glance and he saw her making notes on a pad. An hour later she secured everything and made her way out. Matt was amazed. One moment she was putting things away, the next she was gone and he looked around to see her in the elevator as the doors were closing. When he walked out she was completely gone.
Chapter 3
Krystel drove the silver Toyota Celica casually out the main gate and down the avenue. Several blocks away she pulled in at a convenience store and went inside to come back out with a bottle of water. Back inside the car she used the scanner to check for transmitters. There weren't any. She drove around aimlessly for twenty minutes and saw no one following her so she turned north and drove until she arrived at an old marina. Krystel parked in a space and walked down the dock until she found a boat named Furious Freddy.
"Ahoy Furious Freddy," Krystel called out.
A minute later an older man in faced jeans and no shirt stood in the door, "Kid said you was coming. He said yesterday. You that bad about directions?"
"I was working. Job comes first," Krystel replied.
He waved her forward and went back in. He returned a minute later to see her still standing in the same spot.
"Waitin' on somethin' girl," He growled.
"Just for permission to come aboard Master Chief," Krystel stated.
"Granted," he said then watched as she timed the motion of the water as it lifted the boat upward against the dock and stepped onto the boat nimbly.
The old man commented, "ain't you clever. Inside."
Krystel followed him in to a counter.
"Park it lil' girl," He said and offered a beer.
Krystel shook her head, "no thanks Master Chief. That coffee smells good though."
He poured her a cup and passed it over, "so what do I call you?"
"Krystel, Master Chief," she replied.
"Krystel what," he asked.
Krystel smiled, "just Krystel Master Chief."
"Kid said you was alright. Go ahead and call me Bugsy. Chow's in thirty minutes, I got you a rack below. First on the left is you and there's a Head right across. You need somethin' special," Bugsy asked.
Krystel shook her head, "not at the moment. I'll go grab my gear and be right back."
Bugsy nodded. When she returned he shook his head.
"Don't see how you get around in them silly shoes," Bugsy commented nodding at her feet.
Krystel laughed, "lots of practice. Uniform is a uniform."
"Fair point," Bugsy said and started cooking.
"Need help," Krystel asked.
"Got it," Bugsy said.
Krystel set up her main laptop. The one from her suitcase and powered up.
"I ain't got internet," Bugsy said noticing.
Krystel nodded, "I'll be using a secure satellite anyway."
He turned around and watched as she took a box the size of a cigar box. Krystel plugged it into an outlet then plugged a cable from it into her laptop. Two minutes later she began typing. She finished just as he called out the food was ready.
"Soon as you're done hit the rack," Bugsy growled.
"I look tired," Krystel asked.
Bugsy nodded, "somebody trained you real good but I can tell. Kid says you got the goods. On the job and stick out til done."
Krystel nodded, "that's right."
"Well I don't buy into all that Mission complete, Mission accomplished horse shit. The Mission is done or the mission is fucked. Guess which one is acceptable," Bugsy asked intently.
Krystel held his glare, "fucked is never acceptable."
"I been around a lot longer'n you and the Kid. I seen everybody do everything right, entire missions go to fuckin' Hell by the numbers and the cockbites in the rear still call 'em a success. I don't buy that shit. Don't you ever do it either. You stay on mission until it ain't there no more. GET ME," Bugsy said angrily.
"AYE Master Chief," Krystel answered.
Bugsy nodded, "Hoo-fuckin'-yah. Hit the rack."
Krystel nodded and went to her cabin.
Krystel awoke at five on the second beep of the clock's alarm. She changed into the sport bikini, pulled on socks and tied her running shoes. On her way out she grabbed the small waterproof pack and slug it onto her back. Five minutes later she was running down the road. She returned an hour and forty minutes later, climbing onto the dock from the water. After stretching then rinsing off with a hose she stepped onto the boat. Bugsy met her with a cup of coffee.
"How far," He asked.
"Six out. I think five back," Krystel answered.
"That five back was against the current. Your time is plenty good," Bugsy remarked then asked, "why only that far?"
Krystel laughed, "can't spend all morning on PT."
She went below and got ready for the day then left. Bugsy shook his head. Operations had changed a lot since his days.
Matt had run to the vending machines area for a cup of coffee and a soda. Outside drink containers weren't allowed. Travel mugs were available to buy but had to remain on site. He'd immediately bought one on the first day. He had just re-entered the Arena when he saw her. The D.O.D. woman. And she looked NICE! He wasn't the only one to notice and think so either. Several heads had turned at her arrival. So far all anyone knew about her was that her last name was Ellington and she was from D.O.D. One thing for sure, all the males agreed that she wasn't just a tech. Her appearance and the fact that she made a dive on the first day put that rumor to bed fast. She looked like an office type, moved like a model and worked like a mainframe operator.
Matt saluted her with his cup, "morning."
Krystel smiled, "good morning."
A second after she passed it hit him. Very faint. He almost missed it. An almost flowery scent. Like something you'd smell walking into a garden just as the sun went down. Jasmine? Ginger? What was it?
"Pssst! Wake up dude," a voice hissed to him.
Matt looked over, "huh?"
The young tech shook his head, "dude. Ya been really cool so far like, but don't let the Commander catch ya scopin'. And DEFINITELY don't let th' Colonel see ya do it. Ya wanna go lala-land, g'head. Bad they catch ya. Jus' sayin'."
Matt nodded, "yeah. Sorry about that Nick. She's just so different from all of us, know?"
The seventeen year old nodded, "get it dude, get it. Way diff. D.O.D. Ice Queen. Talkin' serious bank."
"She's an Ice Queen? Where'd you hear that," Matt asked in a low voice.
Nick nodded in the direction of the room's center, "Commander. Talkin' th' Colonel. They put a keeper on 'er."
"Whoa. Serious," Matt asked.
The teen glanced around subtly and nodded, "she dove for like maybe sixteen hours. Commander got real nervous and Colonel was pissed 'cause nobody said nothin'. No warnin' or anythin'. People dive deeper than a few hours are supposed to have warnin' an stuff. She didn't an' the Colonel was pissed. Somethin' happens an' its his fault. That's not how things work and people knew but still didn't say nothin'. Weird. She's like nice an' stuff. Wouldn't know she's like that."
Matt looked confused, "what do you mean?"
Nick nodded to her, "like; she's pretty an all that, but not stuck up. She operates but not all 'I'm the shit an' you ain't'. She dives but she's here. She said hi to me. Weird dude. Dunno can hang with that."
Matt watched the kid wander back to his terminal. He felt a bit sorry for him. The kid had graduated from college at fourteen and went to work for CyberForce right out of the gate. A genius brain in a child's mind. Some things weren't fair. The kid was brilliant and strong Cyber-specialist without argument. Matt doubted he would ever actually meet a decent girl that would like him just for him. He'd heard that on more than one occasion a minder would be put on someone like him and that would evolve into a relationship. Intentionally evolve that is. To somebody else that might sound crass, but the suicide rate among those types was high enough to shut those arguments up. He glanced over to her again and could see why the kid thought she was strange. Already an aide took station by her terminal. An Airman this time. Apparently they weren't taking anymore chances with her and she would have Minders when she was working.
Matt sat down at his terminal and slipped on the headset. Everyone wore them when working. Usually the person would hear whatever music they brought along until something happened. A major incursion would interrupt everything so they could go into instant war-footing. A small boom mic would become voice activated so counter-attacks could be coordinated.
That's what happened five hours later.
"ALERT! HOSTILE ACTION DETECTED! MULTI-PRONGED ATTACK!"
The Commander's voice then came out, "Go to war people!"
"Remain calm. Counter-action now underway," a female voice answered.
Everyone looked up as the big main screen split in two. Half red code and half green. The red code then split off to the other screens to the left and divided multiple times each.
"SINGLE ASPECT DEFENSE."
"WHAT THE HELL," the Commander demanded then froze.
Everyone was now watching the green code. It split off more times and just continued to separate. The green code had matched the speed of the red and even began to accelerate.
The female voice announced, "Bedrock enabled."
Matt's eyes widened. 'Bedrock' was the condensing of the ICE, making it more dense to slow down the penetration.
"Launching Javelin," the woman said.
Matt placed the voice now. It was her! Quickly he spun around and looked. She appeared calm as she worked. No frantic typing or any or that.
"Black Hole forming. Deploying Cluster," Krystel narrated.
Several voices remarked in surprise. They all knew 'Black Holes' were used to simply absorb counter-attacks. 'Cluster' essentially was a self-replicating virus. Big self-replicating viral attack. They'd never seen this happen though. She'd put the cluster out front and it was replicating itself and launching more attacks into the black hole.
"Boomerang," Krystel announced.
Now they saw and understood. The black hole was taking all the cluster attacks and allowing the boomerang attack to go around and attack the black hole from its source code. In moments the black hole collapsed from the double attack and the cluster continued on through.
Krystel voice announced, "incursion verified. Source origin: India. Launching Damocles."
People were now standing up from their terminals and looking around to see who was doing it. Most were moving now to watch the monitors. Even the Commander was doing that. The red code had slowed down a lot. Now it was barely moving. The green code was scrolling so fast no one could easily read it. Suddenly the red code started disappearing one by one.
"I have the array," Krystel announced.
Several of the younger people chorused, "WHOA!"
Krystel continued, "Initializing Vortex."
"DAMN," Nick said in a long breath.
They all knew Vortex was more powerful version of Black Hole. Only it didn't absorb attacks. It absorbed everything. Only one string of red code remained and it was frozen in place while the green code was a blur now.
"SuperNova," Krystel announced.
Nick had walked over to Matt, "Dude. Its ALL over. They're toast!"
The red suddenly went blank. Matt blinked and looked at Nick.
The teen shook his head, "they're so done. Somebody really lied."
Matt asked, "lied?"
Nick nodded to her, "her. She ain't no Ice Queen."
Before Nick could move the Commander went running by, "SHE DID WHAT?"
Everyone was now watching as he all but skidded to a stop in front of her terminal and tapped her shoulder.
Krystel slipped the headset back, "yes Commander?"
"Just for a little clarity. What EXACTLY did you do to that Array," He asked carefully.
"Its been downloaded to Artemis. Have a nice day Commander," Krystel said and turned back around and resumed work.
Nick groaned, "Oh fuck!"
Matt whispered, "what did she do, really?"
Nick whispered back, "she completely downloaded the whole array and sent it to the D.I.A.'s Super-Array: Artemis. She pretty much killed that whole array in India. By doing that she made it fry completely out. They'll have to rebuild it from the ground up AND create new software. she just set them back like three years, minimum. Ain't no Ice Queen. Dude, she's a fuckin' Sorceress! Best I ever heard of! Ok. I'm scared of her now."
Matt watched the kid go back to his terminal and go back to work. Matt followed him.
"What do mean Nick," Matt asked.
Nick looked at him nervously and whispered, "dude look down there at her. Anybody else around here on day would be jumpin' 'round and partyin'. Not her. It was nothin' to her. She just jacked and killed a country all by herself and it was nothin'. I met a Sorcerer. It woulda took three to do what she just did. ALONE. Fuckin' scary. Like Final Five scary. Sorry dude, your girlfriend was a cylon the whole time. Like that!"
"Whoa Nick. Chill, ok? She's not going to kill us or anything. Ok so she's the best we've ever seen or heard of. She's working with us here. Not against us. Its all good. So she's more than advertised. I don't blame her for it. People that good are always in demand. And not just by the good guys. If the bad guys find out she'd never see sunlight again. Right? Look at her as inspiration. Hard work'll get you up to that too," Matt said and patted his back.
"Problem here," the Commander asked.
Matt leaned closer and whispered, "I think a bit of an inadequacy issue may be developing."
Commander Melton nodded, "Mister Morris don't let that affect your performance. You have talent and skill. You are gaining experience. You'll always encounter those with more or less of that than yourself. Focus on yourself and your ability to work within a group. You've done that well so far. One day you may be able to surpass that. Until then put forth all of your best efforts. Hard work does reap rewards. The show is over, let's get back to work gentlemen."
Matt nodded and patted Nick on the back, "what he said. Right?"
Nick nodded, "yeah."
Matt went back to his terminal and thought to himself, 'maybe she's the answer to my problem? Maybe she could help?'
Krystel dove back into the ICE.
"This is who I am. This is what I do," Krystel whispered to herself.
She could have done without the distraction but she couldn't do what she was there to do with that happening. So far she couldn't see anything wrong in the system.
'See the jungle, not the trees. That's how you'll find its weakness and strength.'
Lyssa's words had filled her head. She was looking at things wrong. She needed to look at the bigger picture. Krystel began typing and the aspect changed.
"See the construct; not the code," she said and turned the music back on.
Soon it was as if she was looking at walls created. Slowly she began exploring. How thick and how dense they were. Then began inspecting the openings in those walls. How things came in, how they went out and where. Finally she went in. Like swimming out of a cove and into the ocean. Data surged and ebbed like tides. Krystel began inserting partial lines of code. After two hours she noticed something. Someone had done something similar. If the data was downloaded to an unauthorized source the partial codes would reassemble there and send out a message, locating that source. Partial code always caught her attention. It was like having a chipped nail. ANNOYING. Especially for her. People that type a lot tend to pay attention to their hands since they're necessary. And for Krystel nothing was more aggravating than to have broken or chipped nail. Partial code had the same effect.
Krystel finished adding the code fragments, like dropping buoys. They would ride the data. She watched as data began to pool in certain areas then drop out. A check revealed those areas belong to various entities. Except one. One she couldn't tell who controlled it. The data pooling there didn't seem to be specific, just whatever wound up there. Something else stood out too. Whoever was dropping tracking code like she was, they were specific. Only information relevant to coordinated activities with Australia was being tracked. Access by the Navy was being ignored. That struck her as odd. Only the Navy should really be concerned about coordinating with Australian forces on a regular basis.
Suddenly the music stopped and Krystel snapped back to reality. She blinked her eyes and focused. It was five o' clock. She looked over her shoulder and saw the Airman paying attention to her.
"I'm here Airman. Let the Commander know I'm shutting down for the day," Krystel instructed him.
He nodded and stood up, "yes Ma'am."
Krystel made some notes in her book then locked it in the desk. She put away her things and began to leave. She walked down the stairs instead of the elevator. It worked out the stiffness of her legs. She walked out to her car and slid into the seat. Seat belt buckled and sunglasses were on before she pulled out into traffic. Within five minutes she realizd she had picked up a tail. Shawna had left her a note in the car when she picked up to tell her it was modified. Krystel was about to find out for certain.
She turned onto a wide avenue then pulled onto a two lane one-way street. Krystel dropped a gear and accelerated. The import car leapt forward and she upshifted a second after it whined. Her move had caught the tail car unaware and they foolishly floored it to keep up. Krystel smiled and coasted toward the next intersection then down-shifted and turned slightly, throwing the Celica into a slide. She drifted the turn and around another in the opposite direction. Up two blocks then another right. The light ahead was green and she hit the nitrous button. Like a rocket she raced through the intersection past the one-way street and turned at the next going right again. Backtracking two blocks, turned left and went out several blocks then turned left this time and slowed down. She saw a house with higher grass than the others around it and stopped then backed into the drive to park under the carport.
Krystel checked her pistol and sat waiting. Twenty minutes went by and she started the car back up and slowly rolled out. She drove carefully and backtracked several times to ensure she was not being followed again then went to the marina. She parked and began to look over the car.
"Somebody bump you at a light or somethin," Bugsy asked.
Krystel shook her head crouching down to look underneath, "somebody tried to tail me."
Bugsy lost all humor, "tried?"
Krystel nodded and then went to look under the hood, "they're wandering around trying to figure out where I went and how I did it so fast. No trackers."
Bugsy sat down the cooler he was carrying and went over. He too went over the car.
"What the story on this car. Some these parts look brand new," Bugsy asked.
Krystel closed the hood, "its set up for drifting. In a city its less about about top end and more about agility. If we were west of the Mississippi then I'd go for pure speed. Here in a tight city like this I need to be able to manuever. That's where drifting comes in. Its more stable to slide than turn. I slide the back end around then power forward and I can turn better and recover speed faster than slowing down for a turn. That's drifting. Its great for tight streets. Nitrous works for opening up more distance. If I had more room and longer stretches of road I'd need a a V-8 and a supercharger. These streets are shorter and tighter so I less room to run."
Bugsy nodded, "ok. I get that. Like the old Cobra. All stick and pedal drivin'."
"Pretty much, only its not circumstance. Its intentional," Krystel said.
Bugsy picked up the cooler and the way to the boat. The cooler turned out to be full of shrimp. After dinner Krystel used her laptop to connect to the Super-Array back on the island and used it to sneak back into CyberForce's Athena. She had authorized codes to infiltrate all U.S. Super-Arrays so it wasn't a problem. It was just a lot less problems to go on-site than to work off site. She was just watching so it wasn't a big problem. She checked the area from earlier and it was empty. Krystel backed out of Athena. then pulled up the conference window. She was surprised to get Kimberly.
"Hey Krystel. What's up," Kimberly asked.
"I need a drop," Krystel answered.
Kimberly nodded, "which one."
Krystel stated, "assault pack. No. Send me a Penetration pack."
Kimberly nodded, "you'll have it tomorrow. Sometime tomorrow. Anything else?"
"Check out Matt Collins at CyberForce. I don't think he's a problem. but something's not right about him," Krystel said.
"Matt Collins. I'll run him through everything. Is that it," Kimberly asked.
Krystel nodded, "for now. Somebody tried to tail me. They were driving a black Hyundai Genesis. I couldn't get a plate but it definitely looked brand new."
Kimberly made note of that too, "ok. G'night."
"Night," Krystel replied and shut down.
Chapter 4
Bugsy held out the cup of coffee as she walked in toweling off from her PT.
"Thank you," Krystel said and drank it in three long pulls.
She then refilled it and mixed to her liking then went below. Forty minutes later Bugsy walked past. the door was slightly ajar and he caught a glimpse. Krystel was in turquoise lace bra and panties and slipping on a shiny turquoise blouse. he shook his head and continued to his cabin and pulled on socks and work boots.
Krystel finished buttoning the blouse then strapped the Fairbarne-Applegate knife to the back of her right thigh with a fake garter. She stepped into a black flare skirt and zipped it after smoothing her blouse into it. Her battlesuit, boots, socks and weapons' rig went into a small duffle along with her main laptop. She slid one of the pistols into the holster at the small of her back then picked up the jacket that matched the skirt, duffle and went back up to the main room.
Bugsy saw the black patent heels and shook his head, "operations changed a lot since my day. Still don't see the worth of all this computer stuff."
Krystel set her things down and filled a travel cup, "back in the day. You would listen in on the enemy radio chatter and just to give them problems, blow their comms, right?"
Bugsy sipped from his own cup, "yeah. So?"
Krystel added sugar to her coffee, "what if you could not only listen to their chatter, but change what was being said? Or reach out and change what they know? The enemies use satellites to see long distances. Make them think there's more of something than there really is. Instead of a cruiser off their coast, they think there's a carrier battlegroup. Or make them think there's nothing there and really there's a carrier battlegroup?"
"Misinformation. Battlefield deception," Bugsy stated.
Krystel shrugged, "that's an aspect of it. We can not just make them blind, deaf and dumb. We can make them cocky and stupid then dead. What works for can also work against. A double-edge sword. It cuts both ways.They try to do it to us, we try to do it to them. Quick, smart, strong and gutsy makes a difference. Sometimes ALL the difference."
"So what's this ICE you talked about," Bugsy asked.
Krystel glanced at the clock then sipped from her cup, "we have information. We protect that information with walls of code. That's the ICE. To get through that ICE you can brute force break in. Like blowing a hole in the wall. Or you can drill through a small hole to take little bits and pieces. Or you can embed yourself. Like water moving through sand.The more sections of code you have, the thicker the ICE. The more layers of code on top of each other, the more dense the ICE."
"Like the polar ice pack," Bugsy surmised.
Krystel slipped on the jacket, "right. I'm expecting a drop. You can still get on base right?"
Bugsy nodded, "no problem."
"Good. Here's the spare key to the car. I just need you to put my drop in the back of the car. Would you," Krystel asked.
"That pistol ain't enough if you run into some shit. I can get a few things for you. No explosives but I can get you an assault rifle. A long range rifle I can get too," Bugsy said.
Krystel shook her head, "everything I'll need will be in the drop."
"oh," Bugsy said, "yeah I'll get it to you. They know me at the gate so it won't be a problem."
She picked up the duffle, her black purse and laptop case, "thanks."
Matt shook his head as he sat in the car as he listened on the phone.
"You heard right; Karen Ellington? D.O.D. or D.I.A. right," the caller asked.
Matt confirmed, "yeah."
"Doesn't exist mate," the caller said, "not according to our records and they're current."
Matt asked, "did you check as a civilian contractor. Maybe she's C.I.A. Maybe D.A.R.P.A."
"You're not listenin' Mate. There is no Karen Ellington. Alive anyways. I got one here that died fifteen years years ago at age seventy-two. Not gettin' into that god-awful zombie craze are ya," the caller asked.
"Not unless they're making zombies in their mid-to-late twenties, cover-model gorgeous, drives like a career criminal street-racer and counter-hack like a complete army of black-hats. Got anybody like that in the files," Matt asked.
The caller laughed, "NO, but I'm developing a hard-on mate! Zombie or not, is she single? Put a tracker on her car and see where she leads."
"Oh you're loads o' help. Bye," Matt said and disconnected.
Just then he saw her pull in and get out.
"What the hell is she doin'," Matt wonder aloud then shook his head.
She walked around the car and tapped each tire with her foot. Nick was right. She is a bit strange. Cover-model was true though. Again she looked like she was straight out of a magazine. Were the bottoms of her shoes pink? Why? he remembered from a conversation with his sister some time back that the high heels with red bottoms were really expensive and women wanted them like crazy. What about pink bottomed high heels? Where they more important, and why did it suddenly matter to him? He'd never paid attention to that before.
Matt dug into his console and pulled out two trackers and plastic cable-ties. He got out as she started walking toward the building and casually strolled over. After a quick glance around he dropped down and tied one tracker to the frame and the other above the muffler. He then made his way inside at a jog. She had finished checking in at the desk and was walking away. He showed his card then singed in as well. When he turned to go, she was gone. He hurried to the elevator and rode up with two other techs. In the Arena he looked and saw her sitting at her terminal.
"Fuck what'd she do, teleport," he asked himself in a whisper as he went to his own terminal for his cup and went for coffee.
"AHOY! Looking for the skipper of this tub," Rodrick called out.
Bugsy stood in the doorway, "yeah?"
Rodrick nodded, "yeah. Can't miss him. Some scraggly, waterlogged, wrinkled up, squint-eyed, saggy-balled, hobble-legged old fuckin' geezer."
"And just where did a wet-behind-the-balls, knock-kneed, cross-eyed, goofy lookin', zit-poppin', peach-fuzzed, pencil-dicked, shit-fer-brains occifer get that kind of vocabulary," Bugsy asked.
"I had a degenerate for a teacher," Rodrick laughed then stepped aboard.
Bugsy shook his head, "didn't teach any manners. The fuck said you could come aboard?"
Rodrick held up a twelve-pack of beer, "I'm gonna bribe the skipper."
Bugsy nodded his head to follow him, "get in here."
Rodrick followed him inside.
Bugsy hooked a thumb to a stool at the counter, "park it. Uppity shit."
Rodrick passed a beer over and sat down opening one for himself.
"Thought you was on rug-rat detail," Bugsy asked.
Rodrick nodded, "I was. Wifey finished up early so I came up with a care package for Krystel. How are things here?"
Bugsy shook his head, "damn married asshole. How do you think? My boat's starting to smell girly and I understand a little about this computer warfare rat-shit."
Rodrick laughed, "getting lonely now?"
"There's a girl down at the bar for when I get lonely. You drinking another of my bribe," Bugsy asked.
Rodrick shook his head, "nah. I gotta fly. I just stopped off making a hop to drop off her stuff."
Bugsy nodded, "let's get to it."
Krystel's phone buzzed. She check it and saw the notice that codes had reassembled. An unauthorized system. Krystel shut down the terminal and grabbed her things. She told Commander Melton she had a meeting and left. Down at the car she laughed. A note was folded over the bottom of the steering wheel.
"Thank YOU Master Chief," Krystel smiled.
She picked up the tracker and looked at it then started the car and drove out. Outside the gate she tossed it out the window. She drove a mile away and pulled into a parking lot and powered up her main laptop. After connecting to a satellite she decoded the message. She then traced it back and found the location. It looked like an old house in the woods close to a marsh. She drove to within a mile of the target location and parked behind a cluster of short palms. Krystel changed into her battle-suit and boots then shrugged into the weapons' rig. From the suitcase that had been dropped off she assembled the CAR-15. Extra magazines went into pouches along with pre-made precision charges and handful of det-cord with a remote detonator. Four frag grenades, a smoke, a flash-bang and an incendiary rounded out the munitions.
Krystel applied her facial paint is black, and two shades of green then started making her way to the target. It took an hour to get close enough. She'd checked all the way for anti-intrusion. A quarter of a mile out she started to see them along the road even though she was five meters off of it and moved another ten meters out to parallel it. She stopped a hundred meters from the house and began to look it over with a rifle scope.
Two men stood on the front porch with assault rifles. A third could be seen at the back of house that occasionally wander to each corner to look around but he wasn't really expecting to see anyone. He seemed to be doing so more out of obligation than anything else. They all wore khaki cargo pants and cotton t-shirts and had a pistol holstered at their hip in addition to the civilian model AR-15's they carried. Krystel moved closer around the end of the tree-line. A shed at the back had a generator that was running and several fuel cans were arranged next to the shed. She found an angle and looked through a window using the scope. The front door wasn't a viable entrance. The outside was a wood veneer over what looked like a metal door that had been made. It was barred with two metal slats. Yeah that was no way in. She had to assume the back door was the same. She now had a choice; try a window or make her own door. With doors that strong there was a high chance the windows would be rigged with some kind of anti-intrusion since there were no bars.
Krystel backtracked down the road almost an eighth of a mile and managed to climb out a utility pole. There was only one wire and it looked like either telephone or cable, not electrical. She squeezed one of the charges around it and climbed back down. Back at the house she made her way in closer on the backside and waited. When the look-out went to the corner she moved in. When he turned back around she greeted him with a powerful upward thrust of the Fairbarne-Applegate. It went straight between his ribs into the heart and she drove him to the ground clamping a hand over his mouth.
He went down in such surprise there was no struggle. She held position for a few moments but saw his eyes starting to glaze over and recovered. She then went over to the generator and affixed a charge at the carburetor then went to the house's wall. Carefully Krystel stuck det-cord to the wall in two loops with some tape. She set the remote to detonate all three charges, the line, generator and wall. To distract the occupants she took a frag grenade, pulled the pin and threw it over the roof toward the front of the house. She counted after throwing and at three she hit the remote. Four explosions went off almost simultaneously.
Krystel bolted in through the large hole in the wall and checked the hall. She could hear men shouting in a dialect of Arabic she wasn't familiar with. She could only understand one out of four words. A man was looking out a window by the back door and two were crouched by the front windows. Krystel ripped off a burst to the backdoor man then charge the front room firing tight bursts. One tried to fire back but missed as she tucked in tight to the wall and changed hands to fire around the corner left-handed. He came from the old-school style. 'Use every bullet until the mag runs dry and hope you got 'em'. When the bolt locked open Krystel angled around and stitched him, center mass. As he dropped she changed magazines stalked around the corner. There was bagging at the door and a man screaming. Krystel continued around the room until someone fired froma side room. Their shot went wide and she dove to the other side. Quickly she aimed out the window and ripped into the man outside the door. The other lay face down on the porch in a slick of blood from what she could see.
A movement from the corner of the hall caught her attention and she swung the carbine around. Immediately Matt raised his hands. A burst of auto-fire focused both their attention back to the other room. Apparently there was more than one in there. Matt held his pistol in a no-fire position and shook his head. Krystel changed magazines again then glanced to the far room in disgust. She shifted the rifle to her left hand and reached for another frag with her right. Matt's eyes widened and edged back from the corner and crouched low. Krystel pulled the pin, flipped the spoon off as she counted and pitched it.
The grenade went off with a puff of smoke and loud bang. Krystel moved closer and fired into the room. It took a moment but another burst of auto-fire answered her. Glass then shattered from inside.
"Shit," Krystel swore and leaned the rifle around and fired into the room again.
Three single shots answered then a burst then nothing. Krystel spun in low ready to fire and no one was there. Outside she saw two men running to the woods, one carrying a rifle and the other a bag and a pistol.
"FUCK," Krystel exclaimed then rounded on Matt, "I should cut you in fucking half!"
"DON'T FUCKIN' SHOOT! I'M A.S.I.S.! Australian Intelligence! On the same bloody side," He yelled fast.
"You've seen me. And more importantly you fucked up MY op stupid," Krystel growled.
Matt shook his head, "nobody's here, nothin' was seen, and none of this happened! All I know is you're some bloody office sheila. Rotten typist and always headed for the dunnie!"
"Move your ass for now. If they get away I'm shooting your ass off sheer principle," Krystel waved him with the rifle then pulled the incendiary.
She hopped out the hole in the wall, pulled the pin and tossed it back inside. A quick magazine change and she started tracking the two escapees at a run.
'WHO THE FUCK IS SHE,' Matt thought.
He had hurried down when he noticed she was gone and tried the trackers. One was moving and the other was stationary outside the main gate. He followed the moving one and prayed it was her. He'd found her car and found her footprints and followed. He'd been startled when the explosions went off and ws just in time to see her bolt inside. He followed the sound of auto-fire until he saw the barrel of carbine swing his way. Now he was chasing somebody through the woods for god knows what reason.
"Hey. As a matter of tradecraft. If I help you run these blokes down, will you hear me out. I wanted to ask for your help," Matt huffed behind her.
"Was that you in the black hyundai," Krystel asked running fast parallel to a trail.
Matt was amazed at her speed, "yeah. I didn't want anybody to think I was trying to make a pass on the job. You yanks are funny like that so I tried to follow you so I could talk private."
"oh we're gonna talk alright. About the very deep shit you're in. Right now I want those guys more so move it," Krystel said and sped up.
Nubobo stopped and looked back in anger, "hurry up! They are surely behind us!"
His companion carrying a laptop case and pistol was gasping for breath, "who are they?"
" American Intelligence or military. What does it matter? They found us and now we must escape Jafaa," Nubobo said.
Jafaa stumbled to a stop, " How? They will keep chasing us."
Nubobo looked around and saw dried leaves and straw. It gave him an idea. They had see many fires on the news broadcasts. Many services would tie up things to fight one. He gathered a hand full and handed it to Jafaa then gathered more and lit them both with a cigarette lighter.
Nubobo pointed, " quickly! Draw a line of fire. It will stop them!"
The fire caught at the dry brush and began to march away from them. With a couple of minutes it was roaring.
" Come. Now we can escape," Nubobo said.
Only he knew about the boat hidden at an old dock at the edge of the marsh. It was a mile away but the Americans would be facing a wall of fire and have to stop. By the time helicopters were called in they would be gone. So many people would be busy fighting the fire, they would be far gone by the time it was in hand or out. It would be easy to go down the coast and then to Cuba. From there they could fly back to Sudan or anywhere else and sell the secrets they had stolen. It had taken a year for Jafaa to worm his way through the defensive systems. It was worth the wait. They had some data that would sell for at least a million U.S. Dollars to the Arab nations and that was only some of what they stolen.
" Hurry! Its not very far now," Nubobo said, "run you over-educated fool."
Krystel ran hard and fast. The two men had to at least have over three to five hundred meters head-start. Why had they went toward the marsh though. Matt was huffing and puffing behind her, making her angrier. If he hadn't shown up she'd have already bagged those two. Now she was having to chase them down. Suddenly an acrid smell drifted toward her. She pulled up behind a tree.
"Thank god. I haven't run like this in a time. Are we close," Matt asked breathing hard.
Krystel glared at him, "shut up! Something's wrong."
They heard a crackling in the distance.
"Is that them running through the bush," Matt whispered.
Krystel looked intently then shook her head, "no. Shit! Smoke. Those fucks started a wildfire!"
Matt looked up, "they didn't!"
Krystel had unzipped the high collar of her battlesuit and was tucking her hair down the back then zipped it back up.
"The bastards did it to stop us. It won't work. Turn back or stay with me. If you come with me then you stay ON my six. Don't deviate. If you fall behind I won't come back. If you go down you'll burn to death. Choose," Krystel said intently.
Matt nodded, "with you."
Krystel turned and bolted. Within seconds the flames were visible and she slowed down. He could hear her repeating something like a mantra to herself.
"See the fire not the flames. The fire; not the flames," Krystel repeated and saw a gap open before her and she charged through.
"YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY," Matt shouted following behind her in direct path.
He ran directly behind her as she bounded and leapt. Almost as if by magic holes in the fire opened for her to go through. She jumped over a log and dove under a leaning palmetto in flames. He followed throwing all caution to the winds. A moment later he understood how she was doing it. By running in front she was feeling the actual air currents and tell which way the flames would move. Unless he stayed practically in her boot prints he could catch fire himself. That was the spur he needed to close in on her. Two minutes later they both burst out of the flames and continued after their quarry. A minute later they both saw the two men running along the bank of a waterway. Krystel angled to race ahead and Matt followed. A large clump of Pampas grass concealed their approach and that was when they saw what the men were heading for. a boat tied up to a rundown dock next to a collapsed shack.
Matt watched as she didn't break stride and aimed and triggered off a long burst. The front man fell. Krystel the slid to a stop swinging the rifle back to the trailing man who had froze. She sent another burst and he dropped. Krystel started jogging toward the front man. He had struggled to his feet and limped back to the other and yanked the laptop case from him. The second man was reaching out for help but was abandoned. Matt sighted down his slide and the man's hand went down. Krystel triggered off another burst as the lead man reached the dock and he went down again. He began to try to crawl.
He looked up when a pair tall black boots stepped into view ahead of him.
He smiled and asked in a heavy accent, "C.I.A.?"
Krystel drew the pistol from low on her right thigh and thumbed the hammer back.
"See the world and the evil in it," She pulled the trigger twice sending the rounds into his head.
Matt's eyes were like dinner plates as she turned to face him, "I see the world; less evil in it."
"I get that," Matt said quickly, "I hope you never see any again."
Krystel picked up the case, "talk fast. I'm still pissed these two had to be fucking chased!"
Matt explained on the way back. By the time the arrived at the cars she understood.
"I'll solve your little problem. Only because it came off our end. That doesn't excuse you," Krystel said angrily.
Her phone rang and she answered it. It was Kimberly calling to tell her she'd found out who Matt was. He had told the truth about being Australian Intelligence. Kimberly advised her NOT to shoot him but definitely send him home with a message from Dannigan.
She set up the laptop then her own. In a few minutes she broke through the encryption and found what she wanted. They had stolen Australian coordination files and sold them to a buyer in Malaysia. The information on the buyer was still on the laptop. She wrote it down and held it out.
"Catch a plane," Krystel said, "you got twenty-four hours."
"I'll be on a flight," Matt said and left.
Matt strode through the Tampa airport the next afternoon. The Colonel was pissed but bought his story of the offer from a company on the west coast. He only bought it because he called and verified. The company was a front so they were quick to confirm. He'd travel to LAX under the Matt Collins identity and meet a hand-off for his real passport and tickets to Sydney under his own name. He stopped to look up at the flight listings. His would start boarding any minute. That's when he caught the scent. Her scent. he turned around.
"Making sure I'm gone by sundown Sheriff," Matt asked in his real accent.
Krystel asked, "Will I have to; Agent Matthew Eric Connelly?"
Matt chuckled, "why'm I not surprised you know who I am?"
"Because you shouldn't," Krystel replied blandly.
"Thanks for solvin' our problem," Matt said.
Krystel looked at him intently, "this is a one time thing. Next time ask for help politely. Otherwise someone may take things personally."
"So what do I call you," Matt asked, "certainly not Karen."
An announcement came over the address system.
Krystel nodded to the gate, "that would be you Matthew. Enjoy your flight."
Matt looked over to the line of people forming, "Oh I have a minute two. Perhaps a goodbye."
He was about to say 'kiss' and had turned back to see he was now alone. She was nowhere in sight. He laughed and shook his head turning to the gate and took his place in line. Twenty minutes later the plane took off. As soon as he got home and settled his report he'd hit his favorite steak house. The idea of hitting a club only lasted for a minute. A casual hook up lost appeal. As he drifted off to sleep he smiled, dreaming of a beautiful and deadly blonde enigma. The scent of her perfume would stay in his mind forever.
The Chrysalis Project: Steel Dove - The Dove and the Lonely Flute
TIffany's time in New York is coming to a close but she's itching for something to do. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
'You're on Stand-by. Find something to do.'
Tiffany watched the group of teen girls work through their exercises en pointe while Lyssa's words echoed through her mind. She had been walking out of boredom when she passed the small studio and looked in the window. The next day she returned with her dance bag and spoke to the owner. Tiffany hadn't even needed to drop a name, simply mentioned her graduation of the advanced program at Julliard and her papers for Bolshoi. Lydia had been thrilled but checked out the dancer and came back from the office overjoyed. This was her fourth day overseeing the teen girls.
"Better. Return to Start, " Tiffany said.
Quickly the girls went back across the room and took their starting position. Two days ago they would have collectively groaned, one or two may have even complained. None did as they obeyed the ballerina that instructed them while balancing on the toeboxes of her pointe shoes.
"Again," Tiffany said calmly.
Once more the girls performed the routine, crossing the room then stopped to hold their position. Tiffany then went over and spoke with each girl. She pointed out the flaws she had seen, what needed to be done to correct them then performed beside the girl as she went through it on her own. 'Watch and learn', was her phrase. Most had been to other studios and suffered unending critique without definite instruction. They were liking the new dancer. She didn't tell them nor even show them; she showed then did the movements right along with them. Earlier she had worked a Beginner class. The six year old girls quickly dubbed her Shadow-Tiffany because she had told them to pretend they were her shadow. Each class started and ended with a curtsy to their teacher now. The students enjoyed being under the beautiful blonde's instruction. It was true that she was strict, but she also encouraged and complimented improvement. Finally she closed the class and sent them off. Tiffany could tell the sun was setting outside the window.
"Well. Another improved class. Shadow-Tiffany," A voice said with a chuckle.
Tiffany turned around, "it seems as though I'm already developing my name Lydia."
The studio owner nodded, "an appropriate name. It fits you well. They'll miss you when you finally leave for Bolshoi, but that will inspire them to work at going there themselves."
"If they work hard and save up, it's possible. Dedication can make a lot of things happen," Tiffany remarked then turned and walked back to the window.
Lydia Collins was fascinated by the enigmatic southern dancer. Tiffany Davereaux said she was only acquainted with the Prima Lyssa Kordenay-Mason in passing, yet Lydia didn't think that wasn't exactly true. Tiffany exhibited the same dedication and strength as the Prima. She suspected that Tiffany may actually have already studied under her in secret but was working to make a name for herself completely on her own in the same manner Lyssa had. Tiffany also exuded the same calm confidence Lydia had seen when she met Lyssa herself after a performance in at the Met.
Tiffany stared out the window intently then called to her, "Lydia. Look there."
The older woman joined her at the window and looked out, "where?"
"There. The purple coat," Tiffany indicated.
Lydia nodded, "ah. The flutist. Tuesday through Friday from three-forty to dark. Saturday and Sunday from God knows when til dark. If she's still out there when I leave, I usually drop a couple of dollars in the hat."
"She," Tiffany asked in puzzlement.
Lydia blinked, "The coat is a girl's. The jeans too. To be honest; not many boys play the flute. They prefer trumpets or sax, its more masculine. I assumed that child is a girl. I'm wrong?"
Tiffany stared intently, "posture. The stance. That's a boy Lydia. The clothes may be girls' but in them is a boy. All of that is irrelevant though. What is relevant is why that child is out there in the weather as you say they are. Look carefully. The jeans haven't been washed in some time. See the flexing of the toes? Those shoes are worn and may not be wearing any socks. Constant slow shifting of weight left to right and back; fighting shivers."
"What are you saying," Lydia asked.
Tiffany sighed, "the first winter after Katrina was pretty bad. People that stayed or immediately came back were everywhere doing whatever they could to make money just to eat. A lot of kids had to do the same. They did what they could; they danced, acted, drew or painted. If they had an instrument, they played. Some even formed small bands if they were friends and split the money. So many had nothing. Not even the clothing to stay warm enough. I saw the boys do that. The girls stood with their feet together, knees flexed and leaning forward slightly. That child is homeless, or no better than. N'awlins is tough on people yeah. She bring out best; and worst. Big Easy was name give by rich. Was easy, for them."
"My god. That sounds so horrible. Were you one of those kids," Lydia asked.
Tiffany shook her head, "no. We were lucky. We did what we could to help though. I graduate early but still underage. Best lie ever heard came from after Katrina. Young woman; lost her home. Husband and baby took by the storm. Somebody raped her in the Dome and took the only thing of value she had left, wedding ring. Stupid news crew interview in a FEMA park. Not allowed to say anything negative. Told reporter 'she felt blessed'. Two days later found raped again and throat cut."
"And that child? What should we do," Lydia asked.
"Wait and see. Don't do anything unless I do, then just back me up. New York's social services doesn't have the best of reputations. We make the wrong move and things can get worse. Like the man say; do it yourself or don't do at all," Tiffany said.
Lydia frowned, "are you sure about that? What can be worse than playing a flute on the street to make enough money just to eat?"
Tiffany didn't even take her eyes off the child they were discussing, "having that flute taken away, being locked up in a group home, beaten by its other denizens and not eating at all for starters. Your imagination probably wouldn't be able to grasp what else can go on in those places. I heard stories yeah."
"You don't mean sexual assaults too," Lydia asked fearfully.
Tiffany looked at her finally, "child looks to be about somewhere between 11 and 13. Kids that don't get adopted and stay clean enough to not get caught will stay until they turn eighteen. Its easy to prey on the younger ones. If a boy showed up and was wearing obvious girls' clothing; what DO you think would happen? Tea parties and plushies? Not on your life."
Lydia was surprised. Tiffany's neutral accent had begun to slip and she had begun to speak with a slight french inflection, especially when she was talking about what had went on in New Orleans. Lydia was sure that Tiffany had more stories and they were less appealing than the ones she had just shared.
"Well that was the last class," Lydia said then went to her office and began turning out lights.
Tiffany changed her pointe shoes for boots and slipped on her coat. Tiffany preceded Lydia out then lingered after the woman left and walked down to where the child they had both been talking about was. Tiffany stood back a ways and listened. The playing was good, but with subtle flaws. As if self-taught. Every sixth or seventh person dropped some change into the hat on the pavement with a piece of notebook paper standing up that said 'Thank you.' Tiffany walked over and stood listening. The face was that of a boy, though somewhat effeminate. He looked up as he played and Tiffany nodded to continue.
After a moment Tiffany asked, "can you play Fur Elise?"
The boy made no answer, other than to start playing it. Apparently it was one that had been learned early on and played often. Tiffany looked down into the hat. There were a few dollars and a large handful of change inside.
"Looks like maybe nine bucks," Tiffany estimated then reached into her coat pocket. She flashed two twenties and put them in the hat, "Go get warm somewhere. See you tomorrow. Elise."
The boy had watched what she did and now the very intent look she gave. It was kind but firm. A look that asked instead of ordered to be obeyed. Without a word he nodded. Tiffany watched as the flute was taken apart and slipped into a worn case and tucked inside the jacket along with the hat after the money was gathered up and pocketed. Tiffany watched him walk away, in a direction she knew had places to eat. She went in the opposite direction to a coffee shop and waited an hour then passed back through on her way back to her building. She was surprised to not see the flutist, but continued on.
'She thought I was a girl and gave me forty bucks! She called me Elise,' he thought to himself happily.
He had immediately went down to Flannigan's. The old man was surprised when he ordered two plates of the special and ate them quickly. No soft drinks, just coffee and water. If he was sneaky enough he would be able to run into one of the corner stores along the way to school and buy something for breakfast for the rest of the week. Maybe even eat good over the weekend too!
He stopped at subway station and went to the lockers. Quickly a crude backpack was retrieved from a locker and he ducked into a bathroom and changed. With some of the change he paid for another week of the locker rental and hid the clothes, flute and all but four dollars of change in dimes and nickels inside then concealed the key. Outside he felt the cold even more through the worn jeans and ragged hoody. The ancient imitation converse sneakers would need to be taped again to keep most of the wet slush out. He waited until after eight-thirty then left. Fifteen minutes later he trudged across the street and walked up to the house and let himself in. He had stopped at the corner and hid two dollars and some change behind a loose brick in a wall.
Inside the temperature was only slightly higher than outside. He knew that probably wasn't true, only that there was no wind.
"THE HELL YOU BEEN," a voice called out.
The owner of the voice stomped up and grabbed him.
"Better have SOMETHIN' as long as you been gone," the woman demanded.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the change to show, "I got a dollar and sixty-three cents. Was all I could find in the park."
She snatched it out of his hand, "took your sweet time gettin' it! Too late for any dinner. Go to bed!"
He turned to go upstairs but she called out.
"Not upstairs! Go to the basement. You didn't EARN enough for upstairs," she said angrily.
He turned and started to head for the small door leading to the basement but she stopped him again.
"Five more minutes and I'da locked up for the night. What d'ya say," she demanded.
Very carefully he answered, "thank you Mrs. Deaver for letting me sleep inside tonight."
Mrs. Deaver nodded, "you remember that. All you are is a check, whatever the fuck your name is."
He knew not to remind her that he did have a name, nor what it is. He simply went downstairs to the cold basement. Three other boys were already there and huddled under a shared blanket that was no more than a thick sheet. A moment later he heard the door being locked. He wouldn't be able to sneak upstairs to clean up. He hadn't been able to since Sunday night, a cold shower enough to get the worst of the grime off. The three older boys always slept upstairs and took a hot shower every night. They usually stole money from the kids at school but had gotten caught. Now they extorted money at a nearby park. He suspected that they may have even started selling some drugs.
He pulled a sheet of plastic from its hiding space and wrapped it around, leaving only his face poking out. Maybe the coach would let him sneak a shower after class since it was the last of the day.
Once more he smiled and whispered softly to himself, "she called me Elise. She thought I was a girl.One day I will be. One day I'll be free and the first thing I'll do is be a girl then I'll come back. I'll find a way to get Deavers busted and burn this place to the ground."
Dannigan sat back in his chair and read the message traffic. New York was quiet for now. Colorado was heating up. Lyssa was dealing with the CIA's clusterfuck in the southern states. Shawna was on a one hour recall in case she was needed to go to either location and everyone else was on Ram's Rock Island. He liked the idea that Tiffany was helping out at a local studio. It kept her standards up and gave her more social experience. He wasn't worried about any of them. Currently there was only one minor irritation. Deputy Marshal David Earp, of the Toledo Ohio office. Kimberly had informed him that Earp was quietly fielding questions about him.
Dannigan had read the files on the Deputy Marshal. He'd been an exemplary Marine with a Force Recon platoon. Naval Intelligence did note that he had come back from an intel detail for the CIA very angry. The debrief could have been censored considering all the profanity he used in regards to the conduct of the Company handlers. It wasn't surprising, they are the CIA.
"You demand to come to the dance and you bitch about the music. You're in for a very rude awakening Earp. You haven't smoked out all your rats and roaches. I'll have to remind you how precarious your position really is before I tell you how to save your own ass, " Dannigan said in a tired voice. "At least Lyssa gets to vent her aggravation."
The big Spook secured and shut down his computer then made his way out for the night. After going through the tunnel that connected to the subway service tunnel and coming out five blocks away he acted casual while scanning his car for foreign devices then got in and left.
Tiffany finished getting dressed to leave. She was wearing dancewear but had a change of clothing tucked into her dance bag. She also slipped in a nightscope and miniature hyperbolic microphone. The barrette in her hair contained lock-picks, not a complete set but the seven most frequently used. It also housed a Tungsten-carbide knife blade. The inside of her right boot concealed a carbon-fiber version of the Fairbarne-Sikes Commando knife. Inside the concealed pocket of her coat she checked the *model-46 Glock. It was a new model that was in limited supply. It held five nine millimeter rounds in the clip and one in the chamber. To make up for the small caliber she loaded with jacketed hollowpoints.
Being armed was good. Being armed with such a small caliber and low capacity was a risky gamble. Tiffany knew it wasn't much of stretch to shrug off the rounds and keep coming. Tiffany had seen Insurgents shrug off multiple assault rifle rounds and continue to charge in wearing suicide packs. However Lyssa had taught her that going for the killshot sometimes had to come second. When using low caliber rounds it was more important to immobilize the target and then go for the killshot. Also more and more nefarious types were discovering the value of body armor. Tiffany had laughed when Lyssa reminded them that even if the target wore the thickest trauma plate in production they were still vulnerable to a round aimed at the hip joint and they would drop immediately. It was very difficult to stay on the offensive when any move to try was met with excruciating pain. A final check in the mirror and she left.
"Tiffany. I've been thinking about that girl, or boy. We should call social services. They can help. That's their job," Lydia said.
Tiffany gave her a look of disgust, "yes Lydia. Please do call SOMEONE ELSE to deal with the unsightly trash. Heaven forbid you do something yourself. By all means, do PASS THE BUCK so you don't have to lift a finger to do something right that may actually help."
Lydia's jaw dropped in response at Tiffany's statement.
Tiffany turned away and used an over-exaggerated walk along with a falsetto voice, "I'll call the juvenile authorities. Its their job to deal with problem children, I mean, children with problems. As long as I don't see them anymore, I did the right thing. They've been dealt with, I mean, taken care of. Right? Of course I am! The only children I really need to show actual concern for are the ones that pay for me to see them you know. All is right, in MY world."
"I'M NOT THAT SHALLOW," Lydia protested.
Tiffany glanced over her shoulder at her, "oh? Our conversational subject just took their place right over there. Here's your chance. Go ask what causes her or him to stand there everyday playing for money in the freezing cold."
Tiffany had wished there was third party in the mix, she could have placed a bet on Lydia's reaction to the challenge and won.
Lydia shrank back and shook her head, "no I don't think."
"That's right Lydia. You don't think. Gave you opportunity and you ran away. 'No no no, I don't like bad things coming into my world. I'm not able to make a serious decision.' As I said; do it yourself or don't do it at all. Since you CAN'T, I will Lydia. Don't interfere," Tiffany commanded.
"What are you going to do," Lydia asked meekly.
Tiffany stepped closer, "that's not your concern. You've already cowardly expressed that you don't want to involve yourself, so don't. What happens is now MY business."
Lydia wanted to cringe, "Tiffany?"
The dance studio owner wanted to shrink away. Go to her office and take refuge. She had never been so intimidated before. In her opinion, the southern ballerina could give lessons to the mob. Slowly she nodded.
"The students are coming in. Shall we concern ourselves with them and I will concern myself with other things in their due course or do I need to go now because you can't be trusted," Tiffany asked pointedly and went back to the window.
"I'll do as you wish Tiffany. Do you really think I'm cowardly," Lydia asked.
Tiffany continued to look outside, "more often than not, its not what is done that determines cowardice; its the motivation. Why is more important than what. You can't help someone just by passing the buck because you won't even try. You want to call Juvenile without even determining if there really is a problem. If there is a problem, what is it? If you do find the problem, can you solve it? If you can solve the problem, how do you? If you can't solve the problem, who can? If there is someone who can, how can they do it that actually helps? All that sounds so overwhelming to you. I can see it in your eyes Lydia. You have your answer as to what you should do. Nothing. You had no intention of seeing things through. That is a person out there, not one of those missiles the military uses. Set it off and forget anything ever took place. That's unacceptable. Leave this to me. I will see it through."
Lydia nodded and went to greet the girls. She knew Tiffany was right and called her out on it. She wouldn't have had a second thought about the child after she called the juvenile authorities. She'd quickly forget all about it. Faced with that fact she saw the truth, it would have been cowardly. Lydia felt guilty and ashamed. She also felt that if Tiffany ever said goodbye to her it would be the last time she would ever speak to her personally. She focused on her group of girls while Tiffany oversaw the other. They did so for three hours then Tiffany went and changed. Lydia noted the firm look in her eyes as Tiffany nodded to her on the way out.
He had been playing for a while now and made some good money. Then she stepped into view. The woman from yesterday. For some strange reason she looked as if the cold wasn't affecting her. The other women were moving by, huddling in their coats, but not her. She wore a coat yes, but she was standing casually looking at him. He stopped playing.
"Hello again. My name is Tiffany. What's your name," she asked.
"Elise? Is that ok," he asked.
Tiffany shrugged, "that would be up to you. I'll call you whatever you want, just as long as it's not 'hey kid'."
Elise laughed.
"I was going to go have some coffee. Would you like to join me? I'll spring for a hot chocolate," Tiffany offered.
Elise regarded her warily, "you talk funny. What would I have to do?"
Tiffany looked serious, "its kind of tough. You might not be able to handle it. You have to sit inside at a table for maybe an hour."
"Is it a strange place," Elise asked.
Tiffany turned around and pointed, "right over there. I been in there before. Its kind of strange to me. The people talk funny."
The kid rolled his eyes, "no they don't. I been in there before."
Tiffany looked impressed, "yeah? Well then maybe you should order for us, so they don't make a big deal about me. You up for that?"
He nodded, "ok. Just don't get weird."
Tiffany watched him pick up his stuff and join her, "I'm not weird; I'm southern! I've always depended upon the kindness o' strangers. And since I'm so kind, let's go see if we can find somebody stranger."
They walked in and sat at a table. Tiffany immediately detected that though her companion's clothing needed cleaning, he himself looked recently bathed. Also there was a the heavy scent of deodorant, the aerosol kind. A woman came over and Tiffany had him order for himself then she gave her own order. The fun part was that she had done so in perfect Russian.
Elise looked at her shock, "I thought you said you were southern."
"I am. That doesn't mean I can't know more than one language," Tiffany said.
"How many do you know," Elise asked.
Tiffany smiled, "count 'em up. English, Cajun French, French, German, Danish, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, Spanish, Portuguese, Brazilian Portuguese, Greek, Italian, Russian, Four dialects of Arabic, Japanese, Korean and Chinese. Mandarin Chinese."
Elise sat there slack-jaw, "no way!"
The waitress came back and gave them the cups.
"Thank you Sveta," Tiffany said casually then in English, "thank you Sveta."
Sveta smiled, "You're Russian is very good. You are Shadow Tiffany, nyet?"
Tiffany nodded, "You know me?"
Sveta nodded, "oh yes! The girls come in chatter happily about Shadow-Tiffany and hope to go to Bolshoi too. They say you will be Prima like the Ghost Legend."
"Maybe one day. Perhaps I will meet her too," Tiffany smiled, "do you dance?"
"Not anymore. My ankle was broken in a fall. I slipped on ice. I have seen her dance. The girls say you are much like her. Enjoy your drinks," Sveta told her then went to her other customers.
Elise looked at Tiffany in awe, "you really speak all those languages?"
Tiffany gave a half nod, "sure. I need to. I dance all over the world. I model too. Knowing how to speak the local language is good. Knowing how to speak the local language LIKE a local is even better. It helps when you're not around the people you work for and sometimes when they are. You won't get tricked and you can even help them not get tricked either."
"Tricked how," Elise asked.
Tiffany thought for a minute then said, "cab drivers. If you sound like a local when you tell them where you want to go, they take you right there. If they know for sure you're a foreigner then they may want to drive you around a few miles to run up the fare. It's a good idea to be able to read and write those languages too so you know what the signs say."
Elise thought about that then nodded, "ok. That does sound smart. So you know you aren't going in circles."
"That's right. A long time ago Clint Eastwood did a movie here in New York. A cab driver is taking him somewhere and Clint asks him how many stores named Bloomingdales' are there in New York. The driver says, one. Why? Clint says because we passed it three times. The cabbie knew Clint knew he was running the meter up and went on ahead and took him where he wanted to go," Tiffany said.
"The Dirty Harry guy," Elise asked.
Tiffany nodded and chuckled, "yeah the Dirty Harry guy. The movie he did here was called Coogan's Bluff. It wasn't a Dirty Harry movie."
"I saw the 'go ahead make my day' movie a long time ago. It was on a tv in a store," Elise remarked.
"Mind if I ask you a personal question," Tiffany asked.
Elise became wary again, " I guess so."
Tiffany grew serious, "are you liking the hot chocolate?"
Elise blinked, "huh?"
"The hot chocolate. Do you like it? I'm going to get another coffee and if you liked the hot chocolate I'll get you another. I have to know the truth though. It's a serious and highly personal question," Tiffany said gravely.
Elise felt totally blind-sided and looked at the empty cup, "uh yeah. Its good."
Tiffany looked over to Sveta then motioned to the two of them. Sveta nodded and brought fresh drinks.
"You act like you weren't certain you wanted to share that information with me," Tiffany commented. "I thought it was fair. Information is only worth what pays for it. A cup of hot chocolate should be worth how it tastes. Right?"
Elise frowned, "I thought you were going to ask something else."
Tiffany shrugged, "I'll admit there are times I need to know things. I've bought information before. I might even buy some from you. Mind you now; if I want common knowledge I'll spend the two bucks for The Times or The Journal. I buy real information."
The street kid sat and thought about that. Tiffany reached into her purse and pulled out three dollars and set it under her mug.
"A fair question for three bucks? How long have you played the flute," Tiffany asked.
Elise nodded, "about six months. I found it at a sidewalk sale. I was looking for something that I could pawn and found it with a book. I decided to keep it and learn to play. I'm glad I did. A pawn guy said he'd only give me twenty bucks for it. I made more than that after I could play four songs."
Tiffany lifted her cup to drink and nodded to the money. Elise gingerly reached over and took it slowly. Tiffany nodded that he could keep it then reached and took out a twenty to slide under her cup.
"Twenty. Why," Tiffany asked.
Elise regarded her, "forty?"
Tiffany pulled another twenty and added a ten," for fifty I'm buying your name too."
She watched him debate then cautiously lean forward, "Charlie."
Tiffany shook her head, "half don't work. All or none. Fifty bucks for your name and why you're playing for money on the street."
"Charlie Vickers. I play so I make money to eat and save up to get out of here," Charlie said.
Tiffany moved the money forward then picked up her cup to drink, "vague but I'll take it for fifty bucks."
She watched as Charlie looked at the money in his hand then said, "I'm an orphan. I don't have foster parents or anything like that."
"Group home," Tiffany asked.
Charlie nodded.
Tiffany nodded back, "fair enough."
She knew he now understood the charade. He would be absolved of any reservation or guilt if she paid for the answers. He wouldn't feel set up if she was paying him. She knew he had, and wanted, to tell more.
"What would I have to pay to ask a question," Charlie asked.
Tiffany was looking into her cup as if there were answers in the coffee too, "depends on the question."
"Why are you asking me all this," Charlie asked.
"Get us both a refill and I'll tell you," Tiffany said and emptied her cup.
Charlie turned around and saw Sveta look over a moment later. He signaled the same way Tiffany had and she nodded back.
Sveta smiled when charlie handed her the ten for their drinks, "ah. Now you pay? This is fun."
Tiffany gave her an bland smile then gave a cryptic reply, "notes through the curtain."
Sveta understood immediately. She remembered from before the fall and understood the old reference of gathering information. She nodded and casually walked away.
"Some time ago a big hurricane hit New Orleans. I saw a lot of things happen after that. I saw kids doing like you do. My family and me, we did what we could to help. I see you. I want to help if I can. I know that kids in the system don't get a fair deal. I can't tell that's what's going on with you. If that answers your question I have a simple one for you but I want it for free since you can answer in one word. Has to be the truth though," Tiffany said.
Charlie sighed, "ok."
Tiffany looked intently, "are you just money to them?"
Charlie twitched as if stung or shocked then nodded.
Tiffany went for it, "for dinner and a hundred bucks I want to know everything."
"Will you help me? Can you get me out of there," Charlie asked.
Tiffany heard the desperation and stared intently, "If I can I will. What you tell me will determine that. I want my money's worth. When I say everything, I mean everything. Holding out or lying will have repercussions. That's the deal."
Charlie thought quietly and after five minutes he said, "deal."
Tiffany nodded, "let's go eat."
Ten minutes later they were sitting in the back room of a small restaurant that didn't advertise with a name.
Tiffany set five twenties on the table, "ok. Talk and eat."
"My parents got killed two years ago. They went to the movies and I was with a sitter. Some crackhead mugged them coming out. He shot 'em both. Dad didn't make it to the hospital. Mom died in there. Mom and Dad both knew I like girl stuff. I got sent to a group home. That night. The lady there saw I had girl clothes in my bag and reported it. The worker took me to another one but wouldn't let me have my stuff. He told the people there that I had problems. They were bible nuts. They started doing the praying thing. I went to church on Sundays with my parents and i told them that. I even told them I which one I went. They said I couldn't go there anymore because it wasn't a real church," Charlie told her.
Tiffany sighed, "which one did you go to and which one did they?"
Charlie drank some water then answered, "I went to a Methodist church. They went to a Catholic one. I told them they were lying. They spanked me for it. I said God was God and he doesn't like it when people force other people to worship a way they don't want to. They taught us that in school. That's why the pilgrims came. To have their churches. They said no it was because it was to spread the one true way of God. I dared 'em to prove it in a history book. They spanked me again and told me to pray their way for forgiveness so when they took me to the church in the morning I could be baptized the right way. At the church I ran away and went to my church. The reverend called the police and social services. The same guy came to get me. He argued with the reverend and when told the cops that he was trying to molest me. He didn't know one of the cops was friends with the reverend. The cop told him he would arrest him for lying about that. Some important people came and the people I got sent to were brought in too."
"I bet that went over real well. Keep going," Tiffany remarked.
"They kept arguing back and forth. Finally i screamed why wouldn't anybody listen to me. Everybody shut up then. I told them everything that happened. And i asked why couldn't I believe in God and go to the church I had been, there's a law about it, right? One of the ladies said yes there is. Then I said then they can't say the methodist church isn't real and make me go to their church. I then asked why the social service man took away my clothes and stuff and wouldn't give them back. That's stealing right? The cops said yes. So then I asked if it was against the law to like girl things. They said no it wasn't against the law, but they didn't think it might be right. So I said but I know it's right and since it's me I know better than they do because they don't know me at all so they shouldn't be telling me that it's wrong. I told them that Mom and Dad had already talked to a doctor about me and I was supposed to go in a few days," he informed her.
Tiffany motioned for him to use his napkin which he did, sipped the water again and continued, "so they said ok until the doctor says what to do things would just be temporary. The man took me to where I am now. The Deavers'. I never went to the doctor. He never came to get me. When I called he told Mrs. Deaver. She locked me in the basement closet for the whole weekend. I called trying to get the man in charge. I told them my name and why I was calling. The worker showed up and told Mrs. Deaver. That was a Monday morning. She took me back downstairs and put me back in the closet and he shouted through the door not to call anymore or he would send me to the Juvenile Hall. She kept me in there til Wednesday night and brought me some crackers that were stale. The kind you get at the diner. She gave me some of them then locked me back in til Friday. Then she took pictures of me. An hour later she said that she sent them in saying that I had run away but they found me. Now I was a problem case and if I complained again I'd go to juvie with all the really bad kids."
"Slick. Scuzzy, but slick. So what's going on now," Tiffany asked between bites of food.
Charlie sighed, "If we're not in school we have to go out and make money. The ones that bring in the most money get to sleep in the bedrooms upstairs and first pick of clothes and showers. There's four bedrooms. Two of the boys are sixteen, one's fifteen, one's fourteen, then me, I'm twelve now, two boys are ten and one's nine. The four of us have to sleep in the basement. Basically she makes something for dinner whenever she doesn't feel like waiting anymore and she and Mr. Deavers eat. After that the four older boys eat almost all of it and the three younger get the scraps. I make as much as I can so I can eat. On Sundays I take the younger boys to my church and we eat there. They stay there all day and I go try to make money. The reverend makes sure they get fed. He also lets us use a shower that's there and gets us clean clothes sometimes. A couple of times a week we can sneak showers at our schools. I don't let her get all the money I earn. Only a little bit. Just enough to keep her from locking me up or hitting me. I'm just a check to her. She doesn't even know my name."
Tiffany nodded, "ok and the social services guy. Does he come around?"
Charlie shook his head, "only if he gets a complaint or to remind her to pay him."
Tiffany listened as Charlie went into detail about the house and asked some pointed questions. Some time during that she produced a notepad and pen and he drew it out. He also told her of the comings and goings of everyone, adding a disclaimer that things may have changed in the last few months. Tiffany asked the details about the social worker and wrote them down as well. She even included a note of Charlie's suspicions of the older boys possibly selling drugs.
"Oh. I almost forgot. If Mrs. Deaver isn't in her office room she sets her computer to record everything and turns off the screen. When she comes back she watches whatever happened in there. One of the younger boys had a teacher come visit. He had been going to a special school. When the teacher left she went in and watched the video. I had been in the backyard cleaning and came in. I was about to walk by and heard it. She punished him for telling things she had done to his teacher. I told them what I had found out. If somebody comes to visit we tell them we won't talk inside the house at all. My teacher had come by once after that happened. Mrs. Deaver said use her office and she went in. I wouldn't say anything but kept glancing at the screen. She caught on and called Mrs. Deaver in. She asked Mrs. Deaver if it really was private if we talk in there. Mrs. Deaver said because it was something important, we had privacy in there. So my teacher said wonderful then turned on the computer screen saying she needed to log into a website for me. The recording thing was up and there we were. She looked at her and said I guess privacy is open to interpretation and we'd save any talks for at school from now on. She'd also be telling all the other teachers to do the same," Charlie said.
"How long did she lock you up for that one," Tiffany asked.
Charlie smiled, "there was no proof I did anything. She actually bought it. The school doesn't even deal with her anymore. If there's something the teacher or principal can do they just do it. Especially if it involves money. They made the social worker sign the forms for our lunches right there in the Principal's office. School supplies too. Instead of an elective we get a study hall in the library to do our homework so we don't have to take our stuff home. The older boys will trash our stuff or steal it."
They had finished the meal so Tiffany paid their check. After they walked outside and moved a fair distance.
"Two questions. Can you and the other boys get out of the basement if you want," Tiffany asked.
"Yeah. Once she locks the door she doesn't open it again until its time for us to go to school. She checks it while we're at school to make sure we're not hiding anything down there," Charlie answered.
Tiffany nodded, "ok. Take them to get something to eat after locking the door. Second question; can you hold out for another week?"
"After the money you paid me tonight I can. Why," Charlie asked.
"You'll know why when things happen. It won't happen overnight because there's a lot to do and it has to stick like superglue. Can you memorize a phone number fast," Tiffany asked.
Charlie shook his head, "no but I hide all this stuff in a safe place and they don't know where."
Tiffany took out a business card, "If something bad happens; call me. Otherwise just sit back and wait. Pay attention. Find another place to play your flute. The ballet studio owner wanted to call Social Services. I told her no. If you are there tomorrow she'll ignore me and do it. So play your flute away from the studio's line of sight and I'll meet you at the coffee shop after it closes. Just keep doing what you have been. Act natural. Feed the younger boys tonight. Tomorrow I'll have some things for them. Got it?"
"Got it," Charlie said, "please be for real."
Tiffany looked at him then reached into her purse one more time and pressed something into his hand, "there's three hundred dollars. I'm paying you to trust me."
Charlie looked like he was about to cry, "Miss Tiffany, if you can get me and the three younger boys into a better place I'll give you every dollar back you gave me and work to pay you double that!"
"You won't have to do that. If there is trouble get yourself and the younger boys to your church then call me. Understand," Tiffany asked.
Charlie nodded, "yes Ma'am."
Tiffany nodded firmly, "on your way."
Charlie left, not knowing that Tiffany had slipped two tracking dots on him. One on his jacket and one into his hair. Forty minutes later she stood in some shadows across the street aiming the hypermike at a window. Using her nightscope she could see the alarm system warning sticker on the front door. It was one of the standard commercial services. She doubted it was actually connected to the monitoring system. More likely it was used to detect anyone trying to go out the main points. Half an hour later the downstairs lights went off. Fifteen minutes after that she saw four small figures slipping through the yard and returned less than an hour later in high spirits. After the upstairs lights went out she went over and looked through the windows with the scope. She saw on an interior door a sensor. That was probably to the basement. There was no sensor on the door to the room with a computer in it but there was on the window. The discussion she heard from the upstairs bedrooms was enlightening. Charlie's suspicions were right. Two of the older boys were selling marijuana and about to begin selling crack that weekend. The other two picking pockets on the subways. The woman would be going to the racetrack at ten in the morning. Not long after everyone settled down to sleep.
Tiffany left and came back to mount a small wireless camera to look through a window. It was easy to use her laptop to wirelessly hack into the woman's computer. It only took ten minutes to crack her password. The woman made things even easier by using online bill pay and banking. She used different banks though. One for each of the boys' checks then one for herself. Those accounts were very low. Tiffany found out why. She was transferring the money into multiple paypal accounts. Tiffany downloaded a folder of video files. They were all concerning the social worker. Tiffany also saw that her intuition had been right. The alarm system was not connected to the monitoring service. It was more for keeping the kids in than intruders out. Tiffany wanted to laugh when she found a document with all the woman's passwords for everything. It was easy to determine the woman's web history. Too bad she checked everything everyday. When the time came, Tiffany would have to move fast.
Charlie was wondering what the woman named Tiffany was going to do. She had really surprised him so far. The night after she had taken him to dinner he opened the basement window to sneak out with the other boys and found a bag waiting for him. Inside the bag were four of those Army food bag packs with instructions how to use them and four tarp-like things that were shiny inside. The instructions also said there was a cellphone that would ring thirty minutes earlier than they usually woke up and to pack everything back into the bag and put it back outside. The other boys were confused but followed the instructions. Fed and warm they slept better than they had in months. When they went outside to leave for school the next morning the bag was gone, only to reappear that night with a note asking for each boy's name and clothing sizes.
When the other boys asked where everything was coming from Charlie shrugged, "I can't tell what I don't know. Let's just keep quiet and enjoy what we are getting. If we do maybe we'll get more?"
Kent Dalton smiled, "Good morning Tiffany. Please come in. May I offer you some coffee?"
"That would be very nice Kent, thank you. I do apologize for insisting at such an early appointment," Tiffany said to the Fixer as he took her hand.
Kent kissed her hand and smiled, "not at all. I've enjoying providing for you. How would like your coffee?"
Tiffany was surprised that instead of going to his desk, he led her over to a set of matching sofas with a low table between them and took a seat beside her and poured the coffee himself.
Tiffany inhaled the fragrance of the coffee and smiled, "Kona? Lovely Kent. Perhaps you would like to try a Jamaican blend sometime. Personally I'd recommend you make inquiries about getting Mello Joy. Its from New Orleans and very nice."
Kent reached down and made note on the pad at the corner of the table, "Actually I have been invited to attend Mardi Gras this year. I'll add it to my list. Along with any other of YOUR recommendations."
"I'll provide you with a ten list later on; sure to please a cultural aficionado Kent," Tiffany chuckled.
"Oh I'd LOVE that! Now, how may I help you today," the slick New Yorker asked.
Tiffany became all business, "I have some rather bizarre requests. There will be some cash payments involved for some parts of it. For your part I've already made payment in the usual fashion. Kent. I'm going to be asking for some very strange things."
Kent chuckled, "puzzles! This should be rather intriguing. Please go on."
Tiffany reached into her purse and took out a plain brown envelope and handed it to him. Kent opened it to find a page of instructions, two other envelopes, a packet of money of various low denominations and a bundle of crisp and clean one hundred dollar bills. Kent read the instructions, occasionally tilting his head in confusion.
"Tiffany I think I should assign you some sort of prize for the strangest request to date. If I were to look at this from an overview, I'd think you wanted someone to get very much into serious trouble," Kent said.
Tiffany sipped her coffee, "actually that's EXACTLY what I want. You can relax though. Rest assured, it's nobody you know or care about. In fact they'll actually deserve what happens to them, and much more. I do however need my instructions carried out to the exact letter to prevent other parties from becoming involved. I want this very confined. Do you have any objections?"
"Just a question. Why do you want this detective involved. He doesn't like you very much I'm told. This could be considered a favor in some circles. For him. Are you trying to make things up to him," Kent asked.
Tiffany laughed, "honestly, I don't like him. However I can just about imagine how his temper has been for some time now. Its exactly that temperament I want. He will jump all over this like a Hurricane in the Gulf bouncing off the Yucatan."
Kent shook his head, "I'll admit I have no idea what that means, but it SOUNDS really bad."
"Ok. A quick course in Bad Cloud one-oh-one. Storms that go into the Gulf of Mexico get stronger there. Islands, like the Bahamas and so on, give it traction and can change its direction. So a category 1 hurricane goes into the gulf and turns into a two or three. It marches across and hit the Yucatan and ricochets like a bullet or like a billiard ball and goes back into the gulf and heads north. This will make it intensify from that 2 or 3 to a 4 or 5 now and sending it slamming into the coast," Tiffany explained.
Kent sat raptly paying attention, "this may sound morbid, but that's fascinating how it works."
Tiffany nodded, "sometimes though strange things happen. Let's say a small, fast moving high pressure system is coming out of the north at the same time. True story; a category 1 was charging the Louisiana coast after walking into the gulf. that pressure system made it back off. You'd think that was good, but its not. It sat and intensified for a day and a half then charged the coast again. Another front was right behind the first one and sent it back to sit for another day. It sat and built up to a category 4 then ran ashore but was diverted at the last six hours and came ashore at the Florida panhandle. It made a very big mess."
The Fixer sat back, "I believe you just educated me far better than a meteorologist could, in half the time and I understood everything you said."
"You're welcome. About my little puzzle; will I be accommodated," Tiffany asked.
Kent smiled, "Of course. This should be quite interesting. Its a diversion from the usual goings-on of this nature to say the least. Some would probably even find it entertaining. This should all be ready for you by tomorrow evening."
"Excellent. MOST appreciated Kent. I'll be on my way then. Have a wonderful day," Tiffany said then stood up.
Kent walked with her to the door, "after such a puzzling morning I worry the rest of my day will be absolutely boring!"
Tiffany chuckled as he kissed her hand again then left.
Kent sat at his desk and chuckled to himself, "what a puzzle you are. I'm beginning to wonder if I should perform your little requests just to see what happens. one thing for certain; you are NOT boring Tiffany."
Late that night Tiffany eased down the side of a building and slipped in through an unlatched window of an office. Normally in New York you could just slip in through a door. This however was the social services building. They had cameras at each door on the inside and out along with cameras watching the sidewalks all the way around. She had gained roof access three buildings away and was able to move across to the one she wanted then rappel down to that window. There was a guard in the lobby but on the upper floors she had free rein and used it to the fullest.
"You are a very bad boy Gerald Johnston," Tiffany whispered to herself going through all his files.
She made digital copies of everything. It took five minutes to break into his computer terminal and access those files. In the supervisor's office it took a few more minutes to do the same. She had already visited Gerald's house and ransacked his personal computer files, including the secret accounts that he was stashing the payoffs in along with the details of the transactions. She understood why the man was still able to keep his job. He had friends looking after him. Friends that didn't know his true nature. Social Services had their own version of internal affairs. It now would look like the supervisor sent them the information along with a statement that duplicate packets were being sent to the District Attorney and State Attorney General.
The hard part had been to adjust the sending time to appear to have gone out during regular working hours. The computer would send it at ten minutes before close of business the next day. The fun part had been a minor virus that Krystel provided. It was included with the packet to the District Attorney. Once the packet was opened a duplicate would be sent to three local news outlets. Outlets with affiliations. The powers that be would fall all over their selves to make things right, just to cover their own asses.
Saturday night at three-thirty Tiffany was crouched in a shadow, double-checking that no neighbors would notice her incursion. All the windows on the ground floor were nailed shut and painted over. That didn't matter. Previously she had determined that she would gain access on the second floor through a bathroom window. A vent pipe gave her rope something to anchor to and she climbed up quietly. A second rope allowed her to drop down even with the window she needed. The magnetic sensor was simple to bypass, as was the feeble latch. She was inside in less than three minutes and checking the hallway.
Charlie's information had included the fact that some of the stairs made noise. That was easy to avoid by slithering down instead of walking. She only made contact with the edge of the treads to get down. She then went into the office. By hacking in she learned that the computer's camera did not have night vision capability. She brought it out of sleep mode and logged in using the password. From then on it was all by the numbers; make sure all the serious data was no longer password protected then download some very incriminating files. The kind so depraved they would make even Gacy and Dahlmer vomit in revulsion. Those too would be easy to find. She even adjusted the download stamps to show they had been acquired over a period of months and watched daily.
The hardest part was the fake journal. It held entries of taking interest of the hardcore videos then fantasizing about enacting them with the younger boys. The final entry detailed that she had finally resolved herself to act out a fantasy with the youngest. She planned to withhold him from school on Monday morning then use the cuffs and restraints after stripping him naked then stimulate him enough to force an erection. She planned to rape him anally with the largest of the sex toys while using the belt of her bathrobe to strangulate him; auto-erotic fashion. During the anticipated orgasm she would complete the strangulation. All of this would be recorded using her computer then uploaded for sale. The journal went on to say that if the sales went as she hoped she would have one of the older boys participate in the next session by raping one of the ten year olds while strangling him.
Tiffany had been surprised when Krystel suggested the journal. What was shocking was where she said it came from. Stolen FSB files from the ninties in the CIA's archives. Apparently the FSB used that journal to gain control over a target in Western Bloc Europe. A double agent stole them and the CIA used them to turn the Asset. The Asset gave limited cooperation then committed suicide. Central Intelligence sealed the file and no longer cared. Krystel found it and sent it to Tiffany. Tiffany did add to the entry that part of the profits would be shared with the social worker.
Tiffany then concealed a large packet of drugs that would be easily found by a cop looking. Also the packet of the miscellaneous money from the envelope. As per her instructions much of it had traces of the drugs she was concealing. Like the same person handling the drugs also handled the money. It was easy enough to acquire the woman's fingerprints then using a putty to transfer them to several sets of handcuffs, restraints, gags and sex toys. The toys had been cleaned using a dishwasher then coated with a off-the-shelf cleaning solution to make them appear to be well used. More than one had dead batteries and two had batteries that were almost drained.
She had held some of the ready made drug packets back though and went upstairs. With painstaking care she slipped into both of the older boys' rooms and concealed a fair amount of the drugs to look as if they took some with them each day to sell. Also some of the money too. With all the evidence sufficiently in place she went back out the bathroom window. It was almost dawn. There would be twenty more minutes until it broke. She called and woke up Charlie and instructed him to gather and pack up the items she'd provided then upon official wake go about their usual Sunday activities but to stay at the church instead of separating. She collected the bag as she left.
Charlie pretended to sleep though the other three boys somehow managed to actually sleep. At seven He heard a banging on the door then the lock was turned.
The door opened and Mrs. Deavers yelled down, "GET UP! GO TO THAT DAMN CHURCH IF YOU'RE GOING YOU BRATS!"
Charlie leaned over and shook the others, "hey come on guys. Let's get going."
He'd done so quietly. The other three boys woke up, stretched then followed him up the stairs. Mrs. Deavers waited at the door, looking very tired.
"Hurry up! Get going. Don't you all go running your mouths off and when you come back you better have some money," She said angrily then slammed the door shut after they went out. The locks were snapped a second later. Hanging their heads the three younger boys followed Charlie down the steps and down the sidewalk.
"Hey Charlie," the youngest boy, Derek, whispered, "does the person giving us stuff go to the church?"
Charlie shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe. If somebody comes up and says something we'll know."
"I wish they would take us away. I hate the Deavers," Derek said sadly.
One of the ten year olds looked back, "we'll be ok Derek. Things'll work out. We have an angel watching over us. We're getting supper now. Those blanket things are weird but they keep us warm all night. Deavers don't know about it so they can't take it away. Maybe we just need to have more faith?"
"Willie's right. Things have been better the past few nights. Let's have some faith that they'll keep getting better. Maybe the reverend can teach us how to pray for that," the other ten year old said.
They hurried along and arrived at the church twenty minutes later. The reverend was standing by the door.
"Morning boys. I'm glad you came," He greeted them.
Charlie nodded, "morning Reverend Simon."
Simon ushered them inside and pointed to a box, "This box was waiting on the step when I got here. It has your names on it for some reason. I have no idea who left it."
Charlie tried not to smile as the other three boys dove for it. Inside the box were four backpacks. Each one had a name tag. Inside each were three sets of clothes; jeans, underwear, socks, tee-shirts, long-sleeve shirts, a coat and pair of sneakers. Also a wallet with one hundred dollars and a personal grooming kit were included.
The boys laughed with joy at the gifts, hugging them tightly. At the bottom of the box was a note.
Simon saw the note and read it over Charlie's shoulder. He had a feeling now that something was being done to rescue the four boys from that horrible place they were consigned to.
"Well. Let's not waste any time. Come on back and use the shower and get into those gifts. Toss those old things into this box and I'll dispose of them for you," Simon said kindly.
As the boys showered he took the smelly old rags out and tossed them into the dumpster. He stopped at the door and clasped his hands then looked skyward.
Simon prayed, "Heavenly Father. Please hear me. Those four boys have been through so much. I fear a dark hour has come. If that may be then please allow them to weather it here in your house until it passes. I know not whether you send angels or men, but please send help to them this day while they are safe here. Rescue them from those that have preyed upon them all this time. I've done all I could to shelter and guide them, being fought every step of the way. Please Lord, send forth that which will deliver these innocent souls to a refuge they so need desparately. Amen."
The Reverend finally wished with all his heart the impromptu prayer was heard and would be answered then went inside to make something for the boys to eat for breakfast.
At the end of the alley Tiffany turned away unnoticed, "you've been heard. I'm no angel though. I was trained by a DemonWraith. Let fly the wings of fury on cold winds; I am Death and they will wish I had called their names."
She used her phone to send a text then got into her car and drove away. She parked a block away from the house and waited.
Gerry Nunez couldn't believe it. The Watch Commander had called him saying that a courier had brought in an envelope that the drug K-9 alerted to. When he opened it there were five packets of powder that tested to be a base mix of meth, aspirin, a touch of heroin and baking powder. It was definitely street grade product. Each packet worth at most twenty bucks. The note inside said they had been bought in a public school and gave the address of the sellers. The address turned out to be a group home for problem case kids. The note also stated that the social worker was not only aware of the drug, he was also getting a cut of the profit. They had a warrant to search for narcotics and any data concerning criminal acts within the hour. they had learned long ago that if they didn't include that any computer evidence would be inadmissible regardless of the evidence.
Suspicious or not, it couldn't be ignored. He called the unit in and they geared up to go. They made a final check at the end of the block then climbed onto the running boards of the truck. The truck sped down the block and swooped to a stop in front of the house. The officers swarmed the door, one ran forward and slammed the door with a ram throwing it open. The rest stormed inside. They yelled out as they searched.
Nunez yelled out, "NYPD!"
He kicked a bedroom door open and saw a woman reaching for a baseball bat, "FREEZE!"
Mrs. Deavers shouted, "I'LL SUE YOUR ASSES FOR THIS! GET OUTTA MY HOUSE!"
Within seconds both she and her husband were on the floor being cuffed.
"Hey Nunez! Come check this out," another officer called from down the hall.
Gerry went to see, "what d'ya got?"
The junior detective held up a gloved handful of things, "party favors! Weed and powder."
Another detective called out, "I thought there was supposed to be eight kids here. Where's the other kids?"
"GERRY! BETTER GET DOWN HERE," Artello yelled upstairs.
Nunez went downstairs. His partner waved him into a room. It looked like some kind of office and a tech was already working on the computer.
"What's up," Nunez asked.
The Tech shook his head, "this is one sick perv. I've seen some sick stuff in my time but this is really bad."
"Kiddie porn," Nunez asked.
The Tech looked over, "yeah there's kid porn. There was a couple of names I never heard of so I looked. I'm telling ya Detective, this shit would make Charles Manson fucking cry in shame. We're talking Kiddie Snuff! Fucking sick shit!"
Another officer was searching and called out, "oh shit! JACK-FUCKING-POT!"
Nunez went over and looked, it was a bag of the powder and more of the packets along with cash.
A whistle got Nunez' attention so he went into the hall.
"Whatcha got Palioski," Gerry asked.
The detective replied, "the younger of the guys upstairs said the four missing boys always go to church on sunday. Pretty much stay all day there. He thinks they get fed so they stay and eat as much as they can. Gerry this kid's freaking out, he didn't have any dope in the room and swears he didn't know about it."
"You believe 'im," Nunez asked.
"Yeah. He's admitting to picking some pockets on the trains but he says its so he can buy food to eat. he says they all have to do something for money 'cause the old bag hoards all the money she gets paid for keepin' 'em. Said he knows the social worker gets a kick back and runs interference," Palioski relayed.
Nunez thought for a minute then asked, "what the others; have they tried to cooperate?"
Palioski shook his head, "nope. One won't say shit and the other two are trying to thug up. The kid also says the four younger boys are forced to stay in the basement at night. That bitch makes them bum money after school. For five bucks they can take a shower, fifteen for hot water. Thirty and they can sleep in a bed. Fifty they get a room. But they have to bring that in daily. He figures whatever money they can scrape up they buy food with because there usually isn't any food left after the adults and two oldest boys get through eating."
"Damn. Ok, keep him separate and see if you can get the name of that church out of him," Nunez sighed.
The hardened Detective knew the system sucked, but this was an all new low in his book. Probably everybody else's book too. If the media got ahold of this story it was going to turn into a zoo. Just when he thought he couldn't be more jaded something like this came along and reminded him things could always be worse.
"FUCKING SICK BITCH," the tech said loudly.
Nunez shook his head and went back in, "what now?"
The tech said nothing. He simply stood up, pointed at the screen and ran out of the room. Nunez looked at the screen. it was some kind of journal. The entry was from yesterday and the more he read, the more he wanted to simply drag the woman out into the street and shoot her. Finally he turned away and went into the hall.
"Being a rent-a-cop doesn't seem so bad anymore," Nunez said grimly then took out his cellphone and dialed, "Captain. I think you better get the D.A. down here. If the press hears about any of this shit he'll be one of those deer being swarmed by lions. Oh and we got four kids missing here. They might be at a church."
Late that afternoon Reverend Simon met a detective. Half an hour later the District Attorney and Police Commissioner arrived and presented him with a court order for the four boys. The Social Services' supervisor was with them. Charlie shook his head at them.
"No way am I going with those people again," Charlie said firmly.
"Son. It has to be this way," the D.A. said.
Charlie shook his head, "the last time Social Services took me they through me in that place and forgot all about me! No! No! No! I didn't do anything wrong and those people did that to me! You don't get a second chance. They're the bad guys. Arrest them! That's what cops are SUPPOSED to do; arrest bad guys! So arrest them!"
Reverend Simon interrupted, "these children have been victimized by your system. Why should any of them go, regardless of what paper says?"
"Its the law Reverend," the District Attorney said.
"Bought and paid for," Simon said pointedly.
"You hold on there! There's been some wrongdoing yes. That doesn't mean you can go around accusing of corruption," the Commissioner said angrily.
"Nobody cared before. Why should we believe you now," the youngest boy said, "you'll just put us in the jail so we get beat up so much we can't cry or send us to another place like the Deavers' and say its all our fault."
The Social Services' supervisor shook his head, "that won't happen son."
Charlie glared at him, "what do the grown-ups always say? You're track record is crap and I'm not buying it. What we've been telling got proved. What you're telling isn't."
"Look we understand but the law is clear," The District Attorney stated.
Simon remarked, "the same law that threw those boys into a house of horrors."
"You're not helping," the Commissioner glowered.
"Of course I am. Them," Simon said flatly, "they have absolutely no reason to trust any of you. Frankly I don't either. This is less about the welfare of four children in despair and more like a something you want off your desk and swept under the rug."
The District Attorney growled, "look I get it. I have kids."
Simon finally lost his temper and stood nose to nose, "these AREN'T your kids! You've ALL failed them and you didn't care then! They don't believe you care now! Now unless you are willing to adopt them today. They will continue to disbelieve you and by all rights; THEY SHOULD!"
"Wow. I guess I didn't miss all the fire and brimstone," a woman's voice said from behind them.
They all turned to see a blonde haired woman in a grey coat and suede boots walking up the aisle.
Charlie smiled at her and saw her smile in returned.
"Sorry I couldn't get here earlier to attend church with you Charlie. I had business that I couldn't put off," Tiffany said.
Charlie went over, "that's ok Miss Tiffany. You're here now, but I got problems."
Tiffany nodded looking over the adults then back, "sounds like you boys need a litigator. Nice clothes. Much better than those rags I saw you in. Did you buy them with the money I gave you, or did you use it to buy a shower that night from that witch?"
"Excuse me, but this is a private matter. Who are you," The Commissioner asked.
Tiffany regarded him warily then answered, "Tiffany Davareaux. I met Charlie a few days ago and I've been giving him money. I was shocked to hear how much he and those boys over there have suffered. I dare say, as tough as New Orleans was after Katrina; I wouldn't raise a child in New York if you bought me the Empire State Building to call home."
She looked to Charlie, "I met a lawyer. He's a nice guy. Maybe he could help your four boys. Would you like me to call him for you?"
Charlie nodded, "would you please?"
"Just a minute! You can't do that," the District Attorney said angrily.
Tiffany looked over at him, "Is that paper in your hand some form of legal document regarding the disposition of these four boys? If it is then they have the right to an impartial legal counsel in lieu of parental consent."
Tiffany had been dialing as she spoke then said into the phone, "Daimon? Tiffany Davareaux. I have four young men that need legal representation. I'll pay your initial retainer for them. I'll write you a check now and buy it back first thing in the morning."
She told him where they were and disconnected, "what luck. He said he can be here in ten minutes! Sorry gentlemen, but you know you have to do the cease and desist thing until the lawyer gets here."
The Commissioner stood in front of her, "What are you trying to pull lady?"
"Best step back Mister. I swear by my pretty floral bonnet," Tiffany smiled sweetly but with lifeless eyes and hissed, "I'll end you."
"You're threatening the Police Commissioner," he growled.
Tiffany grinned malevolently, "say that to somebody that cares. I had lunch the other day with Nora Roberts. You know her, Anchor on CBS This Morning. Oh yes Mister Commissioner, I very well CAN end you. And your little buddies over there too."
"Tiffany! I got here faster than I thought," a well dressed gentleman rushed up.
The District Attorney groaned, "aw shit. Not you Allan."
"Brian! Nice to see you. So are these four young men my new clients," Allan asked.
"Allan; Charlie and his compadres. Boys; this is Allan. He's your new attorney. Hold on I write you a check," Tiffany said then started to go for her purse.
Allan shook his head, "nonsense! I'll take their case pro-bono. Its always nice to do a good deed just for the good deed. Right Father?"
"Reverend Sir. Simon Copeland," Simon introduced himself and shook hands.
"Of course Reverend; my apologies. Please don't hold being a Catholic against me," Allan said then turned to the boys, "Boys what I am is a civil attorney. I fight in court to make sure people get treated fairly. Come tell me your story and we'll figure out how to make sure you get what's best for YOU, and not those other guys. Don't worry about where you'll stay, for now you can stay with me and my family until we find the right families for you."
"Just who the hell are you," the District Attorney asked Tiffany.
Tiffany gave him a bored look, "a ballerina. Au revior."
She went over and gave Charlie a cellphone, "call me. My number is already programmed in. Have fun Allan. Toodles."
"Later Tiffany," Allan smiled.
Only Charlie saw her wink.
Three days later amid the big media frenzy all four boys were adopted. Charlie was taken in by a couple that already had a child. A girl the same age that was transitioning to be a boy. All four claimed it was a perfect match. Tiffany smiled as she began packing to go back to the island for evaluation before her Moscow deployment. Lyssa and Kimberly couldn't stop laughing at the after action report. Lyssa stated she'd be more articulate in giving instructions in the future.
The Chrysalis Project: Steel Dove - Doves and Swords
TIffanyis off to Japan by request. Truly on her own now, but the past rears it's ugly head. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Tiffany stood on the balcony overlooking the beach. She was thinking about Lyssa, who's place as the plain-sight operator, she would soon take. Lyssa was a mistress of warfare. Both physical and of the mind. Not long after Tiffany had completed Special Warfare school she'd heard whispers. Rumors of an elite platoon within the world famous Army Counter-Terror group. Special Operational Detachment-Delta, known the world over as Delta Force, were the cream of the Army's crop. Only those in Special Forces heard those whispers. Hidden deep within Delta was a unit; smaller than a standard platoon. Some mused that it was only an A-Team; fourteen men including the two officers. The most elite and secret unit in the world. The deadliest. No confirmations about its existence; not even from Delta members themselves. If Tiffany had never met Lyssa, she would never know they were real.
The DemonWraiths. A military unit so well trained, they took warfare to new levels and dimensions yet still believed to be a myth. Military urban legend. They fought not only in reality with guns, knives, explosives and bare-handed but also in minds. Not merely psychological tactics but psionic. Projecting their very thoughts elsewhere. It had become widely known about the Central Intelligence Agency's remote viewer project. Clairvoyants working to gather intelligence from miles away, sometimes on the other side of the world. Even the KGB had a program like it back during the Cold-War days. What people didn't know was after the program had shut down, the Department of Defense, National Security Agency and Development and Research Projects Agency picked up that ball where the CIA left it. Picked it up and went farther that ever. Hints by Lyssa were that at least two within the platoon had higher mental abilities. Telepathic of some nature was insinuated.
Furthermore, Delta's in general were resistant to hypnosis. DemonWraiths had been hardened against it, with counter-measures. Cataclysmic Memory Backlash, Lyssa explained, was the full and total immediate recall of a person's entire life. She'd also implied the experience was far from pleasant. People, places, events. even the sounds, smells and feelings; as if it had happened an instant before. Life is completely relived in seconds and then the Kill-Command hit. Even if hypnosis was successful it would only last for a moment before the penalty was inflicted. The subject would never stop trying to kill whomever had been responsible.
Tiffany knew for certain that Lyssa had used advanced psy-warfare on Kimberly post-mission once. Kimberly still had the occasional nightmare, but it was LoneStar and Mindy that suffered night-terrors. If Lyssa and Rodrick suffered stress, nobody knew. Krystel was becoming a story all on her own. Though she had no problem sending Shawna a mission packet, sending Tiffany a packet was another matter altogether. According to Lyssa during the debrief Krystel had been almost remorseful sending Tiffany a packet. Tiffany herself had no reservations about it. She understood the purpose. Assassination or espionage didn't matter, she was capable of both. Being a beautiful model and graceful ballerina was icing on the cake as far as she was concerned. She was able to travel all over the world, though some places were better than others. Rubbing elbows with high echelon, sometimes to remove later on. Having fun, even if duty interrupted it.
The ringing of her phone stopped that thought. An international ID prompted her to answer.
A woman's voice greeted her."Gombawa Tiffany-san. I hope I do not wake you?"
Tiffany replied in flawless Japanese. "Not at all. How may I help you?"
The woman continued in Japanese. "My name is Yuki, assistant to Aki Tomiko-sama. May I connect you please?"
"Certainly Yuki-san, please do." Tiffany said graciously.
A moment later a more mature voice spoke. "Tiffany-san, I am Aki. Our most honored friend referred me to you. Lyssa-san said you may have some time available. Would you be able to come to Japan for my runway show?"
Tiffany smiled. "Lyssa is wonderfully kind. I'd be happy to be part of your show, Aki-sama. I've seen your designs, they're exquisite."
Aki replied warmly. "You honor me with your compliment Tiffany-san. I'll have have your ticket waiting for you with the details to your email."
Tiffany chuckled. "I look forward to it Aki-sama."
As they disconnected Tiffany noticed the text message. It was from Lyssa.
Enjoy Tokyo. Stay at Jade Lotus. L.
Tiffany laughed. she had no doubt that if she checked, there would be a reservation made for her already. Access to Lyssa's houses all over the world was limited. Tiffany didn't have a problem with that, in time she'd have her own network of safe-houses. Curious now, she went online and searched. No listings for Jade Lotus in any of the travel services. Ten minutes after a more advanced search turned up the name and phone number but that was all.
Tiffany frowned as she thought then laughed to herself. If Lyssa suggested it, then it would be in her private database. Lyssa had a special database; keeping files on hotels, restaurants, realtors, shopping, dance and photography studios, local models, modeling agencies, make-up artists and hair stylists. Even nightclubs were kept track of in the extensive files. She ran the name and there it was. A twenty room hotel in the heart of Tokyo's garden district. very exclusive. The only way one could stay there the first time was if a previous guest made the reservation. After that there were no problems.
A combination of boutique hotel and fortified garrison. Security was state of the art and top of the line. Completely dedicated. All the latest bells and whistles, overseen by former Japanese Army and Naval special forces. The Hagakure ninja clan. Hagakure were unique. Absolutely no concern for anyone or anything outside what was their own. Or considered theirs. The hotel was totally self-sufficient. Staffed by Hagakure, they had the usual; desk clerks, maids, maintenance and security. Then they went beyond. Chefs, massage, cosmetologists and professional geisha.
Professional Geisha were traditional event hostesses, that was all contrary to western belief. There were even male and female companions, of both persuasions. If the guest could afford it, very few things were out of the question. Even the food coming in was controlled; farms and fisherman of the clan. The look of the hotel was traditional, but its construction was anything but. Paper walls were actually a special composite to counter eavesdropping. All doors and windows served the same function. No outsider would ever know who were guests. Entrances and exits were concealed, even from the guests. They were met and brought in. After registering a guest could opt to be chaperoned during their stay or be given a special code to a concealed, but highly controlled gate at a nearby Autovend.
Autovends were restaurants serviced by vending machine food. Highly popular in Japan, especially in Tokyo. There was no Michelin rating for Jade Lotus but Lyssa gave it an excellent notation. The best thing, they only accepted payment by wire transfer. Tiffany closed out the search. She smiled as she went to bed, it would be interesting.
Aki looked to Yuki. "Lyssa-san's student will work well for the show."
Yuki looked back, skeptical. "She is an unknown. How can you be sure of her?"
Aki laughed. "Lyssa-san did not have to say the words for me to know that Tiffany is her protege. Lyssa-san married and has children. Her life is complete and balanced. Now she has chosen her successor until her children find their own way."
"Would not one follow their father and the other their mother?" Yuki asked confused.
The designer shook her head. "Not all westerners groom their children for legacy as we do. Most let their children decide their own future. I had been allowed to. My father worked in a textile factory. My mother; a seamstress. They never imagined I would go on to be this. If you ask them, they would give the impression I'd conquered the fashion world all by myself."
They both laughed.
"If Lyssa-san sends Tiffany-san in her own place. That, in itself, says everything. Lyssa-san may be notorious for favors, but that's mostly for ballet. She is now to become famous for stepping back and I suspect for bringing new people, like Tiffany-san, instead of doing everything herself. Concentrating more on her life as a wife and mother. Those things missing before, she now has. I believe she will dedicate herself as she had with everything else. With all that she is." Aki stated insightfully.
Yuki nodded, she'd heard several stories of Lyssa Kordenay-Mason. If half were true, she was a woman to be highly respected. Her name went with equal measures of admiration and fear. A well dressed man with two very intimidating escorts caught her attention. She didn't need to see carefully concealed tattoos to know whom, or rather what, they were. Only Yakuza could stir such feelings of dread without even acknowledging someone's presence. Aki silently nodded for her to leave. Yuki was glad to do so, closing the doors behind her. Just before they clicked she heard a man's voice.
Strong and clear with a hint of malice he said. "So Aki-san. I was very interested to hear you now have Men'swear to your line this year."
Yuki shivered thinking the voice brought images of a sword dipped in poison.
Lyssa stepped into the Command Center. "What is it Krystel?"
"Pacific chatter. Serious uptick from the Philippines." Krystel informed her.
"Philippines? Damn. That bunch finally regrouped. Their infra-structure had been crippled a while back." Lyssa commented.
Maria asked. "You know these people personally?"
Krystel pulled up several reports. "Lyssa did off the chart damage Ma'am, but they have re-organized. Re-organized and re-prioritized. The name Takagami comes up."
Lyssa frowned. "Rings bells, but why?"
Krystel looked puzzled. "What kind of bells?"
"The 'we're about to be over our heads in seriously bad fucking juju' bells. Get LoneStar. Have him prep the Gulfstream. I need to head for Tokyo. Rodrick and Pete will be back tonight. Let the Major know." Lyssa instructed then left.
Krystel called out grabbing the radio. "Aye aye Ma'am."
"Don't you find it odd. Lyssa leaving on whim like that?" Maria asked.
Kimberly shook her head. "No Ma'am. Lyssa and that terrorist group go way back. Two cells and an assault group have been wiped out thanks to her. Looks like somebody finally got up the nerve to lead them again. Not for long."
An hour later the Jet took off.
Chapter 2
Tiffany immediately sized up the well suited young man in front of her.
"Good afternoon Miss Davareaux." He greeted her in perfect English with a slight bow. "I am Takashi. I am to ensure your comfortable arrival to the Hotel."
Tiffany waited the two seconds then smiled. "I'm very honored at the thoughtfulness. Such a capable gentleman looking after me. I know I'm in great care."
She curtsied gracefully. Takashi quickly suppressed the smile of appreciation then took her suitcase and led her out to a black sedan. An hour's ride took them through the city then the windows darkened and the partition closed. Ten minutes later, the back door opened and Takashi held out his hand which she lightly took stepping out. She followed him to a foyer where a woman in traditional kimono waited and bowed to her.
"Welcome Tiffany-sama. This way please." She said after Tiffany returned her bow.
Tiffany curtsied. "Thank you very much."
The woman led her up three flights of stairs then down a hall. At a door she stopped and slid it open, bowing.
"He is waiting on the balcony for you." The woman stated then closed the door after Tiffany entered.
Puzzled at the statement Tiffany stepped from her pumps and went further inside. Three steps in, a floorboard creaked. She froze then glared with hostility at the ancient trick. Uguisubari. Nightingale flooring, floors designed to make a chirping sound when walked upon. Security that went beyond analog. Sneakier than tin cans on a string and a thousand times more effective. Unless one was taught the technique. Tiffany stepped back then angled almost forty-five degrees right and walked forward. She red-lined her memory. In her mind she saw Lyssa walking a pattern. Two forward then a step left then repeat until she reached the balcony.
An elderly man sat at a low table set with tea poured for two. Tiffany silently closed to three paces, knelt and bowed.
"Come young one. Sit with an old man, before the tea is no longer worth drinking." He said in a strong voice.
Tiffany rose gracefully to walk lightly over and sat formally. Wrinkled, but sharp eyes regarded her intently as he smiled.
"Beauty. Grace. Charm. Lyssa-san has chosen and trained well, the one to take her place." the old man said in approval.
Tiffany bowed again. "I am honored to be invited to your table; a humble dancer and model."
The old man chuckled. "Still some training left for you then. Lyssa-san is the better liar."
Tiffany kept her expression stony.
"You thought I would not know the presence of another warrior? I am Yoshida Hagakure, you do understand what that does mean?" He asked rhetorically.
Tiffany never wavered. "You are the lord of this honored family and of this noble house, Hagakure-sama."
The old shinobi smiled. "I see Takashi was indeed right. If only half-measure of your charm on me were to be turned on my other grandsons, I would have to confine them to a monastery far away during your stay."
Tiffany sensed he was more amused than anything else, so she went with it. "Grand-Master Yoshida. Is it wrong for a girl; to be impressed and therefore appreciative, being attended by such great and honorable men?" She even managed a slight blush.
Yoshida laughed fully. "I may have to lock myself away with the boys or risk falling victim to you and suffer a wife's wrath."
An elderly woman spoke, catching Tiffany by surprise. "Indeed. Our golden-haired adopted granddaughter has taught her well."
Tiffany was very impressed with the old woman, for sneaking in.
"I assure you, My Lady. My true hope is, but to gain enough favor for an extra dessert. Or two." Tiffany playfully bantered.
"So young one. What has brought you to us from so far away?" Yoshida asked.
Tiffany had no reason to lie."A friend of Lyssa. She invited me to walk her runway show at Lyssa's recommendation. I'm greatly honored, her designs are very beautiful. Lyssa wanted to make sure I would well looked after while visiting Tokyo."
The old woman nodded. "Then as our Lyssa-san has chosen you, so shall we. Our second golden haired adopted granddaughter, Tiffany-chan. So as she does, you too, will call us grandfather and grandmother. Ojii-sama, Bachan."
Tiffany bowed. "I am greatly honored to be welcomed into such a great and noble family, Bachan."
Tamaki scolded kindly. "Since the tea has been forgotten, then perhaps we should send you to your room. Along the way Tiffany-chan, perhaps proper manners will be remembered."
Tiffany moved like lightning to offer assistance to the woman, as she gained her feet. "Without doubt, Bachan, I'll be well schooled in no time." She bowed again then kissed Yoshida's cheek. "A pleasant afternoon to you, Jii-sama."
He chuckled as he shooed her off. "Away child. Or she'll forbid dessert for the whole of the household while you visit."
Tiffany retrieved her shoes at the door and held her arm out for Tamaki to hold, knowing fully she needed no real help, as they walked back down the hall.
Aki taped the last of the twenty gift boxes. Inside was a men's suit. The size was specific, though the color and style was random. A small brick of ecstasy tablets were nestled inside as well. Years ago, Aki had a bad year and needed to borrow money. Money that had been fully repaid, as per the agreement, plus a bonus to ensure conclusion of that deal. Aki had thought that if she dealt directly with the Oyabun, all terms would be met and final. This new Under-Boss was something unforeseen. Somehow he knew there had been a deal, but refused to acknowledge its finalization. An hour later her office doors opened unannounced. Tetsuo Makagi casually strolled in, flanked by three musclemen.
"So Aki. You have my, gifts, ready?" He asked sarcastically.
Aki worked very hard to keep fear from her voice and eyes. "they're ready. An invoice here; did you want to put this on a credit card or pay cash?"
Tetsuo laughed after a moment. "That's amusing Aki. I like that. It goes toward your debt."
Aki gave him a flat look. "What debt?"
Tetsuo said casually. "The debt from twelve years ago."
Aki glared at him. "First; such debt was a private matter between Oyabun Makagi and myself. You dishonor him by even knowing about it. Secondly: That matter was completely settled according to the agreement. His words, not mine."
Tetsuo backhanded her then seized her by the throat. "I SAY you have debt and I will COLLECT as I see fit!"
His men took the boxes and began walking out.
"After your show, I'll be having a party. All your girls will do, for entertainment." He smiled malevolently.
Aki stood up. "I have models. Not whores!"
He drew his fist back to strike again, then stopped. Aki stood still, focusing on him. As if she wanted to be hit. Mentally he laughed then punched her.
Aki took a minute to compose herself then said coldly. "Entertainment can be found in Shinjuku. Speak to your Oyabun about it."
"You'll provide it Aki." He said then walked out.
At the outer office doors they almost ran into a blonde, disconnecting a cellphone call, reaching for the door. Several moments they stood looking at each other.
"If you keep pretending to be a door; you won't like my idea of 'turning a knob'." She said in English.
One of them understood and shifted uncomfortably.
Tetsuo smiled and said in Japanese. "Too bad, gaijin, you have no idea what I say. I would rip the clothes from you and have you screaming as I take you. Even down in the street below, no one would look, much less help you. Stupid gaijin slut."
She gave him a charming smile then grabbed his groin viciously, curling her fingers under and twisting.
"I may have left my tweezers and magnifying glass behind, but I think I can find something down there, if I REALLY take the time. Now; Open, SAYS ME. Or not even Ali Baba and his forty thieves will find your precious jewels." She snarled.
Tetsuo shuffled to the side with fury all over his face.
Tiffany applied more pressure. "Since you brought up stupidity. Anymore out of you and I may be inclined to take your head off and shove it up HIS ass, to be delivered to somebody with brains."
The men backed away slightly.
"In old times, poor families would sometimes castrate one of their sons and sell him to a choir. Provoke me again, you asshole, and I'll find you a new career path; in the music industry. Got it?" Tiffany hissed.
When he didn't answer, she pulled slowly and he nodded. Tiffany released him, but stood her ground in the doorway.
"Find a place to be. Or I'll find one for you." She said angrily.
He backed off then nodded to his men following them out. Tiffany stalked to the doors of Aki's office and walked in. What she saw made her even angrier. Aki saw the fury on Tiffany's face and tried not to cringe away.
"Want to tell me about dickhead and the three idiots?" Tiffany asked in a deceptively calm voice.
Aki looked with fear. "Tiffany-san, please. They're Yakuza."
Tiffany glared back and replied sarcastically. "No shit, really? Sherlock fucking Hemlock rides again."
"Please Tiffany-san, I'm trying to protect you all from them." Aki pleaded.
Tiffany was having none of it though. "I take care of myself. Now who do these assholes work for?"
Aki relented. "Makagi. Matsu Makagi. Tetsuo is his only nephew."
Tiffany turned heading for the door. "I got this, Aki."
Before Aki could protest again Tiffany was out the door.
As she settled angrily into the car, the driver Ryu asked. "Nee-san, what has upset you?"
Tiffany sighed looking out the window. "So much for a fun, relaxing time in Tokyo. Four assholes to deal with, no need for concern."
He glanced back with the mirror. "The Makagi crew that came out shortly before you did? Carrying several boxes?"
"Now why am I not surprised you knew who they were?" Tiffany commented, almost amused.
Ryu smirked in the mirror. " Really, Nee-san?"
"Ok. So what can you tell me about them?" she asked.
Ryu frowned. "Better to ask Jii-sama. Since Bachan has insisted you join them for dinner tonight, you'll have the chance."
Nothing more needed to be said, Ryu had turned the car into the hidden tunnel to the garage. Tiffany was allowed to know its location and have her own personal entrance code to it.
Lyssa wasn't concerned Takashi had seen her in the private terminal. Either there to collect a guest or see them off, those were his primary duties. A discreet shake of her head told him to stay back. Hopefully that subtle signal conveyed what she meant. She didn't want to be noted in the city. She wanted a quick in and out. LoneStar had stayed with the plane, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Lyssa made it to her house and disarmed her security then began her check out of equipment. The sun had begun to set.
Chapter 3
"You are positive Takashi?" Yoshida asked.
Takashi nodded. "Without doubt, Jii-sama. It was Lyssa-san and she does NOT wish it known she is here."
The Shinobi Master turned to his other grandson. "Tiffany-chan made no mention of Lyssa-chan coming?"
Ryu shook his head. "No, Jii-sama. She was, however, very pre-occupied about the presence of the Makagi men. Tetsuo-san and his usual crew. More accurately, she was angry. They may have insulted her, personally."
Yoshida sat silently then finally spoke. "First I will see to Tiffany-chan, as she is the more convenient. After dinner, I will go see Lyssa-chan at her house. Ryu, have Enji prepare to drive me. Until determined otherwise, we will not reveal Lyssa-chan's presence to Tiffany-chan."
Both grandsons bowed then left. An hour later Tamaki entered with Tiffany in tow, both laughing. They enjoyed dinner and toward the end Tamaki teased Tiffany.
"It's good you did not forget your table manners, this time, child." Tamaki said in approval.
"Your disappointment schooled me well, Bachan. I hope not to warrant remedial lessons again." Tiffany replied, looking chastised.
Yoshida chuckled. "I believe the threat to her beloved dessert was taken to heart."
Tiffany winked. "A girl's charm requires all the sweetness she can get."
They all laughed.
"I do wonder though; Perhaps your charms may attract attention of some would not be suitable. I sense a heaviness about you Tiffany-chan. Perhaps our years may be of guidance." Yoshida said sagely.
Tiffany looked deep in thought then said. "The friend, of Lyssa and myself. She's being harrassed. This upsets me, of course. As a friend should, I want to help her. Unfortunately, the ones doing the harrassment are of the Makagi clan. I believe if I were to speak to Oyabun Makagi directly, he may be persuaded to intervene."
Tamaki said warmly. "A heart as golden as your hair, Tiffany-chan."
Yoshida added. "It is noble, child, wanting to help your friend. Matsu Makagi-sama? I know of him, he takes his honor very seriously."
"He would be greatly upset if say; one of his own were to violate and exploit a deal he made and finalized years ago?" Tiffany mused.
Yoshida now understood. "Well, that would be something all to itself. Yes, I think so. How it is presented will, of course, matter greatly in this. I would suggest, a 'chance encounter'. You and your friend 'accidentally being in the same place at the same time'. If you understand my meaning."
Tiffany smiled. " Serendipity. I like that idea, Jii-sama."
He chuckled. "Very few know, that everyday Matsu Takagi-sama meets with an old family friend at a garden. Like the Lords of Old; they walk and talk. About an hour, from one until two. The garden belongs to a Shinto shrine, what you westerners would call a neutral ground. Perhaps, with your encouragement, your friend may seek the help she needs. Properly."
Tiffany smiled at the simplicity, yet effectiveness, of the plan. "Of course Jii-sama. Your wisdom is a gift I thank you for."
The meal being finished, Yoshida rose. "I have a matter to attend to. I'm confident you will keep each other entertained."
They both smiled and bowed as he left. Down at the car the old man settled in.
"Take me to Yotsuya, Shinjuku, Enji. Lyssa-chan's house there." Yoshida ordered.
The young man nodded curtly and drove.
A forty-five minute ride later the car stopped at a corner.
"We are at the street for Lyssa-san's house, Jii-sama." Enji said quietly then bolted to open the door for him.
"Stay here, Enji. Lyssa-chan may not take well, an unexpected and unannounced visit." He warned.
Enji bowed curtly then got back behind the wheel to wait as Yoshida walked casually down the sidewalk then up to the front door of a house. Carefully he knocked.
"Who calls?" Lyssa asked from inside.
Yoshida answered with a chuckle. "One who is curious, as to why his adopted granddaughter would hide from him?"
The door opened and Lyssa stood aside to allow him in. The Shinobi grand-master stepped inside and followed her to the main room and sat opposite her.
"No disrespect is intended, Jii-sama. I'm just not here." Lyssa laughed.
The old man laughed as well. "And I am simply out for a night-time stroll."
Lyssa poured tea for him then herself and asked. "The Takagami clan, Jii-sama."
Yoshida frowned. " Ozaki Takagami-san. Very traditional. They are what you would call an off-shoot or splinter clan. Years ago; his own daughter disgraced him, but the clan they were in saw no dishonor and its lord refused to take action. In a rage, Takagami-san took his remaining bloodline from that clan. The daughter was killed, not long ago, I hear. They are very much like ourselves, neither wanting or needing much contact from outsiders. The strange part is, Takagami-san is not angry at the killer of his daughter. In fact, he feels he owes debt to whomever it was. In his eyes, she became an abomination."
Lyssa mulled that over. "Honor, before all things."
Yoshida nodded. "In simple words; yes. That is why he has cut off all contact with the Mirumoto clan."
"If someone were to seek him out. Gain teachings in The Way and use them, dishonorably?" She pressed.
Yoshida shook his head. "Takagami-san would not live with shame again. Neither would the off-shoot clan."
"Would Takagami see a warning in that regard favorably?" Lyssa asked.
"There must be NO uncertainty. Takagami-san is very shrewd. He takes nothing at face value and is not lenient." The old man replied.
"Then I should take a meeting with him." Lyssa said. "Where can he be found, Jii-sama?"
Yoshida smiled. "Interestingly enough, I know. Every afternoon, from one until two, he visits a Shinto garden with an old friend. I'm sure you need no explanation of the discussions between a shinobi and a Yakuza that grew up together. It is there you will find him, Lyssa-chan."
Lyssa bowed. "I thank you for your knowledge, Jii-sama. And the answer to your question is, no. If Tiffany does not know I'm here, the better."
"Then I suggest that you be at your BEST there, Lyssa-chan." He smiled standing up. "Lyssa-chan. You sent a sword to me for safekeeping. I understand it belongs to Takagami. The sword of Poisoned Souls. He is going to want it back if he suspects you are the one who killed her. Goodnight, grandchild."
Yoshida left without another word.
CHAPTER 4
"I've been to this garden before Tiffany-san, I just don't see why we should today." Aki protested.
Tiffany reached out and cradled a clutch of cherry blossoms and inhaled deeply. "Aki-san, you're all worked up. Stressed out. To be ready for the show, you need to chill. Put everything from your mind, focus on the now and the beauty before us. Appreciate it for what it is. A beautiful day, stunning colors. I'll be in Moscow soon. There'll be no flowers, no bright shining sun on a pretty day to enjoy. Not like this."
Aki shrugged. "True. I guess you're right. There are no gardens like this in Moscow. Shinti was designed by a very famous samurai. He was very revered."
Tiffany stepped to the center of the pathway and twirled. "Its SO beautiful Aki!"
She hoped the carefree act was working on Aki. Dancing and twirling on the walkway served a real purpose; seeing without appearing to be looking. She now understood the repetitive phrase Lyssa hammered into her.
Mind of soldier, heart of artist, soul of warrior. Beautiful lethality; Deadly grace.
Tiffany noticed her pirouette had garnered attention from elsewhere, the undivided attention of two men. One in a current cut business suit, the other in more traditional attire. She kept her steps light and quick, as they drew closer then abruptly stopped in pose, as if swept back by wind. The two men applauded, so she curtsied deeply.
"Thank you! Thank you gentlemen!" she said appreciatively with a smile.
The man in the suit spoke first. "In all my years; I don't remember the gardens blessed with such graceful beauty. A true delight."
The other man affirmed. "Nor I, old friend. I believe we should talk to the caretakers, about it becoming more frequent. An attractive addition I'd say."
"The colors are so beautiful! I couldn't help feeling like the hummingbirds. This way and that, never enough time to enjoy each one!" Tiffany chattered enthusiastically as she twirled once more.
Both men chuckled at her exuberance.
"I was just telling my friend, Aki-san, that time should be taken to appreciate beauty when you have it around you." Tiffany said gesturing. "She works so hard. A designer. You should meet her. Aki! Aki please come over here and meet these nice gentlemen."
The suited man looked over. "Aki-san? Is that you, its been quite some time. Years."
Tiffany ignored the look of shock from Aki. "Please Aki. These are kind gentlemen."
The suited man asked. "You've been disrespected? Recently?"
Tiffany let some of her anger flare in her eyes. "VERY much so, Sir! A young man was so brutish to us! He was horrible to Aki and I; he treated me as if I were a tramp. A common walker of the streets!"
Slowly the suited man took the over-sized sunglasses from Aki, to reveal the blackened eye.
"Who did this?" he asked with tightly reined anger.
"I didn't get his whole name, but I did hear him called Tetsuo-sama." Tiffany said then described him perfectly.
"Tetsuo Makagi-san?" he asked pointedly to Aki.
On the verge of tears she nodded the answer.
"Poor Aki, she's so sweet and kind. This has upset her so much, it's affected her work. Her new men's wear line is very handsome, but how can she concentrate on the show, all distraught like this?" Tiffany said sadly putting her arm around Aki's shoulders.
She considered elaborating more, but decided against it. Better to not oversell.
"I believe we may be able to convince young Makagi that his interests should be directed, elsewhere." The man in traditional robes offered.
Tiffany looked up, with hope shining. "oh could you? Really?" Tiffany smiled, but then looked alarmed. "What if he finds out? Oh, he'd be so angry with us."
"Put Makagi-kun from your minds. I assure you, he will not be a problem for you anymore." The suited man said firmly and nodded.
Tiffany smiled for them again. "Thank you so much. Please, come to the show! I know you'll see something you like."
The men smiled at them then continued their walk down the path.
After they turned a bend, Aki rounded on Tiffany. "You tricked me Tiffany-san."
Tiffany gave her a puzzled look. "Me? Tricked? What do you mean; tricked?"
Aki glared. "You knew who they were. Knew they would be here. You wanted me to come, because they would be here and we'd meet them."
Tiffany tilted her head. "Were you not being exploited? Wasn't he trying to shame and humiliate you and the rest of us? Wouldn't such a thing bring dishonor to the man you had an honorable deal with? Shouldn't he be aware of a problem and want to deal with it? His way, before it gets out of hand?"
"Yes." Aki muttered.
Tiffany continued. "Was it not THEIR determination that he is a problem, and they should deal with him?"
"Yes." Aki said. "I heard them."
Tiffany cut her off. "Then it's Tetsuo that has been tricked, Aki. Tetsuo and he did it to himself."
"Tiffany, I am afraid." Aki admitted.
Tiffany patted her back, then used an over-exaggerated Southern drawl. "Nonsense M'dear. Why, I've ALWAYS relied upon the kindness o' strangers. And since WE are so KIND; let's go find somebody STRANGER!"
Aki finally sputtered with laughter and joined Tiffany as they walked back.
Ozaki Takagami bid Matsu Makagi good day and continued through the garden. A blonde woman stood at the edge of a small terrace overlooking a pond filled with lotus and koi. He got the very distinct feeling she was waiting for him.
He walked to the railing. "The garden has unprecedented beauty today."
Lyssa noted his English was perfect and without accent, but replied in Japanese.
"Great surprises can be found before one's very eyes. Soke Takagami." She said.
The fact she spoke Japanese as if a life-long local didn't impress him, neither did that she knew who he was. What did, was her exact formality. Soke, not Shidoshi. One not intimate with the world of ninjitsu would mistakenly addressed him as Shidoshi, especially a Westerner such as she. The Shinobi now understood, this was a woman not to be underestimated in any fashion.
"Why do I feel that all the usual pleasantries, are about to be left by the wayside?" He mused aloud.
Lyssa stated. "Men of honor and action have always preferred truth over platitudes."
Ozaki kept his look of deep thought. "At what price; this truth?"
Lyssa turned taking off her pink-lens sunglasses. "The price is only there, if you care nothing for your honor anymore and choose to ignore it."
Takagami dropped all pretense and glared. "My honor; almost destroyed, by my very own daughter. Along with the clan we came from. Without doubt, she now resides in the darkest corner of Hell, as she should. My only hope now; is that Ginzo Mirumoto will too!"
Lyssa suppressed the urge to wince at the name. "Honor may be redeemed. If you want it." Lyssa said.
Ozaki Takagami waited silently.
"A group of terrorists, from the Philippines, are trying to seek you out. They would defile The Way. Use your teachings to commit atrocities." Lyssa informed him.
"Destroy them. That is what you want of me." Ozaki said with certainty. "Do your dirty work, for you."
Lyssa snorted then began to laugh. Takagami was confused. She was laughing, as if he had told her the best joke ever heard.
Finally Lyssa composed herself. "Now why should I bargain, coax or cajole with someone; when there are already those would do so. Not only with enthusiasm, but as a sense of duty. All I need, is where they hide."
Lyssa turned sliding the glasses back on and took two steps.
"You seem to be well informed. About many things." Takagami stated.
Lyssa stopped. "I hear things, yes."
Takagami turned to face her. "What if, I were to seek a bargain?"
Lyssa faced him taking the glasses off again. "That would depend upon your terms."
"My daughter fought a great opponent. An opponent that granted her a death far more honorable than she deserved. Do not misunderstand. It is not that one I seek. Not even the identity. What I seek, is the sword my daughter carried. I require that blade for redeeming my honor, avenging myself upon the one who made her the abomination she became." Ozaki stated. "For that; the Takagami will be indebted with gratitude. Two favors to be granted."
Lyssa's eyes never wavered. "arrangements will be made. The sword will be in your possession within the next thirty-six hours."
Takagami nodded. Lyssa turned and left. The sword in question, she had already sent back to Japan and now sat in hidden at the Jade Lotus.
Takagami turned back to the pond and looked deep into the water. "The answer, finally. It was a true warrior that ended her shame. And I have just met her."
CHAPTER 5
The show had gone well. Tiffany made her own mark; stealing the limelight and strategically disappearing, taking Aki to a hiding place outside the city. Word had gotten back to her, that Tetsuo Makagi was beyond furious. Oyabun Matsu Makagi had not only forbidden any contact, from any member of the clan, with Aki but himself. He had also forced Tetsuo to reimburse Aki, out of his own pocket, for the merchandise he'd extorted. For good measure; Tetsuo's men were assigned to other under-bosses with orders never to be in contact with Tetsuo.
Tiffany knew he'd go gunning for Aki so she waited, watching for him to show up at Aki's condo. Tiffany's patience and perceptiveness paid off, but the satisfaction was short lived. Apparently Matsu Makagi thought along those same lines; he'd assigned a tail-car to follow Tetsuo. Four in the car, none looked thrilled. Tiffany read their lips. They were reporting his activity and it seemed everybody was pissed off. Tiffany followed him as he left, but carefully to avoid being detected by the tail car. He visited a mistress outside Shinjuku, reputed to be a masochist. For lack of better terminology, he had an extensive workout then left.
After a few blocks, it seemed he was heading back to his own home. Tiffany bailed off and rushed to arrive first. It took only a minute to gain entry, the lack of an alarm surprised her til she thought about something Maria had said once. Nobody would dare break into one of her houses, everyone knew she was Mafiosi. Consequently; who would break into a known Yakuza residence, besides herself? A quick check of surveillance revealed two audio bugs, she relocated them into a box deep inside a cabinet and turned off certain breakers that were well marked. Tiffany waited silently, until the sound of the locks being turned.
Tetsuo unlocked the door and strode in, angrily tossing the key onto a table. That bitch Aki had been nowhere to be found. His influence as Yakuza was forfeit, therefore all real resources were cut off. He flipped the switch, but the lights didn't come on. Swearing, he stumbled over to a floor lamp as his eyes slowly began to adjust.
Suddenly pain exploded along the side of his face making his vision blur. Something dark moved off to the side, but it was too fast for him to recognize the kick coming. It connected and he flew over the couch with a grunt of pain, landing almost upside down on his shoulders. The shadow loomed over him then dropped down, slamming a knee to his chest. He felt his sternum snap with a sickening crackle. The shadow hauled him up and held him.
"D-Do. You. Have any idea? Who. I. AM?" He wheezed through pain.
The black-streaked face hissed back. "Any idea how little that matters anymore?"
Tetsuo grabbed for the knife at his back and lunged. The shadow easily bolted back, avoiding the slash. Three more pain-filled times he tried, unsuccessfully. Shadow moved again and Tetsuo took advantage with a feigned lunge, but actually going for the sword on the table.
He grabbed the katana and yanked the scabbard off. "I'll take you before Makagi himself. Head first!"
Tiffany stepped into moonlight and beckoned him. Tetsuo charged; swinging the sword diagonally, but a snap-kick to his knee shattered it, dropping him. A glance up as he went down, the shadow's hand over his mouth gave him a shock. Long blonde hair in a high pony-tail.
"It's all over. You're done." A honeyed voice finally said in his ear.
He'd heard that voice before.
"Who in the hell are you?" He managed to grind out then saw his own sword raising in front of him.
"Let fly; the wings of fury, on cold winds. I am death, calling your name: Tetsuo Makagi." Tiffany said then brought the blade down as he looked up in terror.
The expression of shock and horror remained on his face as the severed head rolled to stop a few feet away looking back. Tiffany wiped the blade clean on his sleeve then sheathed the sword. After double-checking she was leaving nothing behind, she replaced the listening devices and slipped out a side window. A stop in a discreet dark spot a few blocks away, to clean up and change, then she stopped at an automated mailing store. The sword was on its way to Ram's Rock Island, giving her a bit of satisfaction. Lyssa never said she couldn't have souvenirs of her travels. A sword was much better than a shirt or towel anyday, she thought on her way back to the hotel.
Ozaki Takagami nearly telegraphed his surprise. The woman practically stepped from a shadow, like one of his own shinobi. Gone was the stunning beauty that looked at home walking the garden path, replaced now by a black clad phantom exuding death with every move. Swirling black streaks across her face looked from a well practiced hand. The steps of her boots as she crossed the floor were muted and silent as she walked between the two columns of men and women seated to stand in front of Takagami.
A slight nod of her head. "You stated terms of a deal you wished to make."
She held out a sword-bag. Toshigawa took it and then opened it to reveal the hilt. He pulled the bag down, holding the scabbard with one hand. The sword was drawn by his other hand holding the hand-guard. Carefully he looked down the length of the blade.
"The sacred blade of our family has returned." He then addressed Lyssa. "Upon my honor, as of this moment, you hold our debt. Redemption whenever and however you wish. The ones you have passed warning of, will not be schooled in The Way. Their location is my gift to you, Golden Shadow."
Lyssa took the slip of paper then held forth her hand after pulling off a glove, showing the ring on her finger. "My insignia. Fulfill its request."
Takagami bowed, followed by the columns of shinobi and kunoichi. When they sat up a moment later, she was gone.
"Soke, do we follow? Lend assistance?" One asked.
Ozaki stared at the symbol of his family on the far wall. "No. It is not desired. To intrude would be loss of face."
Quickly he took up brush and paper, drew on it then turned it to them. "Mark well; the Keeper of our debt. Any who show it, are to be brought here with every respect."
The thirty shinobi and kunoichi of the Takagami Clan bowed.
"The Golden shadow has returned our honor; for us to avenge ourselves!" Ozaki Takagami declared.
Tiffany stood in the foyer exchanging good-byes. One of the teen girls, had showed her several items to send home to Kasey, Kristine and Mindy. Each were receiving a decorative yukata, a painting and a doll. The teen took pride in mailing the gifts in 'Tiffany Onee-sama', big sister Tiffany's, name.
"Moscow will be cold, compared to Tokyo. Be sure to dress appropriately." Tamaki chided her.
"I have some clothing and will buy more as I need, Bachan." Tiffany smiled.
Yoshida gave her a stern look. "The Russians do not share the same sense of honor we do, young one. The fun and games you enjoyed here, should not be repeated there."
Tiffany giggled. "I'll try to behave, Jii-sama."
Tamaki scolded. "As well you should! You are going there for studies, not mischief, Tiffany-chan."
"I'll train hard, Bachan." Tiffany replied seriously.
She bowed then hugged and kissed them both.
"Away child. Takashi will see you to your flight." Yoshida said gently.
Tiffany smiled and went down the side hall to the garage.
"If her destiny were different, I would see about arranging a marriage into the family." Yoshida commented as they walked out to the courtyard.
Tamaki asked. "Lyssa-chan has foreseen her greatness, hasn't she?"
Yoshida shook his head. "That power, she does not possess. Lyssa-chan is to be victorious in battles after the sacrifice of herself or one innocent. That was what I had foreseen. She has paid the price for her destiny twice. Tiffany-chan possesses great power, but the path of her destiny is not yet cleared for her to travel. Soon, it will be."
They both smiled as a butterfly fluttered past and a dove landed on a branch of the cherry tree.
The Chrysalis Project Book 7: Iron Dolphin Book 2
A routine server penetration reveals a threat is valid so Krystel deploys to London. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
"Report." Dannigan said over the video link.
Krystel replied. "Aye Sir. Yesterday I finally infiltrated the mobile system for True Freedom, that new international militia group. That's what they say they are, total bullshit. They're Tangos and definitely have targets in the U.K."
That got Dannigan's attention. "They just hit the priority list then. What targets?"
"Waterloo Station, the EYE, Her Majesty's Theatre and some girls' school. That's London alone. There's several more scattered around." Krystel listed.
Dannigan was thinking. "Can you get that intel into a form that can't be traced back specifically to us? By that I mean, our group in particular. Can you make it look like its coming from another agency?"
Krystel nodded. "Yes sir. I can introduce standard NSA, DIA or CIA coding. There's a catch. To do that it'll require the intel be hand carried."
"Stand-by to deploy. I need to touch base on some things. How long to prep the package as DIA?" Dannigan asked.
Krystel smiled. "Ten minutes."
"Out." Dannigan closed the window.
Kimberly looked over. "Fun, fun, fun."
"I don't know Kim. I think I'd rather have gone on that Japan Op with Lyssa. You know how I love Shibuya and Tiffany sent back a real sword." Krystel shrugged.
Lyssa spoke up from behind them. "Getting you TO Shibuya isn't the problem, Krystel. Getting you OUT is. If we did foreign posting, we'd station you there just to shut you up."
All three laughed. Currently of the O.I.C.A., only Tiffany and Shawna were off the island. Rodrick, Pete and Carl didn't count as they were on a hop. LoneStar was currently teaching the girls in the classroom and Maria was with Anna in Freeport as Anna had physical therapy. The remaining Black Badge Deputies were getting ready to take the girls' next classes.
Lyssa turned around. "Krystel. Who would you be meeting with over there?"
"Any of about two thousand people." Krystel replied.
Kimberly leaned back in her chair. "Get specific. Who could make the most of it?"
"MetPol. MI-6." Krystel answered.
Lyssa shook her head. "The Rumpus Room Krystel. Where do they keep their divers?"
"Oh! Room 40." Krystel giggled.
Kimberly nodded. "That's who. The Brits' World War One crypto-group. That's the background. It went back in action not long ago as their front line cyber-ops unit. They're the sword and shield."
"I like it. Find the key players. Krystel, learn who's who and be ready to go in. Find out who their Cat-lady is, who cosplays as a Spice-girl, you know the drill. These guys and girls won't be much different than our own so they'll have digital footprints. Track them down and learn their quirks. I want you ready for anything they throw at you, including nothing. I want you to hit like a 30 mike-mike Tungsten Jacketed Depleted Uranium round. Hard, clean and leave them wondering what just happened." Lyssa ordered.
"Kim will give you some friendlies. She knows who."
Krystel laughed. "Aye aye."
Krystel began working her terminal as the super-array came to life behind the glass wall.
Theodore Grimes answered the phone's intercom. "Yes Cynthia?"
"Sir. I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's a strange call." Cynthia said.
Ted involuntarily looked to the door. "Strange? What do you mean?"
"An American, claiming that he is making an 'Obscene Phone Call', Sir. Sir, this is a DIRECT call. It rang straight through." Cynthia informed him.
"Put him through. If he knows how to get directly to the office, it must be important." Ted replied.
Cynthia was still unsure but said. "Line four Sir."
Ted switched off the intercom and keyed the line. "Yes? Who is this?"
"Somebody that knows you write slanderous things on the bathroom stall doors at the football games." Dannigan replied.
"PATRICK DANIELS! You renegade Yank!" Ted laughed. "What have I done to warrant a call out of the blue? It MUST be something outrageous."
Dannigan laughed back. "It DEFINITELY is! It seems you, and I can't believe I have to say this, are owed a favor."
"Right." Ted hedged.
"The thing, with the guy, in the place, sometime ago. You hit the lottery." Dannigan said.
Ted caught on quick. He was being vague deliberately. The whole point of it was this was payback for a favor done previously that had serious ramifications. This payback was on the same scale and should be taken gravely.
"My lucky day. How EXACTLY do I go about claiming my winnings?" Ted asked.
Dannigan explained. "Person to Person. Details within the next 12 hours, direct to you only."
"Will they be able to provide details personally?" Ted asked.
Dannigan knew he was asking, in order to determine who met Krystel. "Definitely. To satisfaction, Ted."
"Fantastic. I'll be looking forward to counting my good fortune with a smile." Ted replied, now knowing that the person coming wasn't a courier.
A cyber-operative was coming and quite possibly the one that had found whatever was being brought.
"Take care Ted." Dannigan signed off.
"You too, you filthy-minded Yank." Ted replied then disconnected and leaned back in his chair. "So the American D.I.A. are paying back some favor they owe us and sending one of their best to hand it over personally. Why do I feel as if I just agreed to let in a Rider of the Apocalypse?"
"WAIT! You mean YOU are going to London? On a Mission?" Kasey asked.
Krystel had to inform the girls that their advanced system classes would be suspended during her absence. They seemed to be taking it in stride.
Mindy, of course, kept things in perspective. "Aunt Krystel, will you be able to do stuff while you're there?"
"I'll take some time to pick up something for each of you." Krystel laughed.
All three of the girls loved their care-package from Tiffany's trip to Tokyo. The extra package, which turned out to be a sword, went unnoticed by them. That sword now resided in the new cottage built for Tiffany. Krystel had one too, as did Hunter, Carl, Pete and Eddie. The cottages were built to withstand the force of a Category 5 hurricane just as The houses for Lyssa and Rodrick, the DeMarcos and Everbrites. All of the housing was on a separate electrical grid, powered by a battery bank recharged by solar panels and wind turbines.
The trick had been bringing them all onto the Island's power from the underwater power line to spike usage then taken off. Now the increased demand by the array was camouflaged.
Kristine was excited about the prospect of new things from far away places.
"COOL!" The girls cheered.
Kimberly came up from the Command Center. "Ok. I've got your travel plans. Tonight, LoneStar will take you up to Eglin Air Force Base and catch a hop to Andrews. Madison will meet you there and give you the credentials and paperwork en route to Dulles Airport. You'll need your Glocks on this trip. You're pretending to be D.I.A. attached to Army CounterIntel."
"Mrs. Kimberly, I thought D.I.A. didn't have Armed Status?" Kristine asked.
Kimberly smiled. "They don't. But our very Special Agent Kerri Emerson of the D.I.A. is seconded to U.S.Army Counter Intelligence, which DOES have Armed Status."
"Why all that?" Kasey asked. "Why not N.S.A.?"
Lyssa answered the question. "Camouflage. Counter-Intel people come and go from other Agencies and Services quite a bit. It's known that happens. Now Krystel, with her Navy background, could go in as N.C.I.S. Unfortunately they have a television show which makes hiding as one of them a problem. Krystel doesn't need that."
"OH." All three girls said.
"The easy way is not always the best. Sometimes Red-Tape and bureaucracy can be effective. A wall of silence doesn't work as well as an unending road of nonsense answers." Krystel smiled.
"We'd always go for the locked door instead of millions of unsecured files." Kristine said with understanding. "Not Allowed is our catnip!"
Kasey groaned. "Telling us we can't go somewhere is an open challenge. We'll do it just to spite! Free rein to nowhere works better!"
"They're learning." Lyssa said with satisfaction.
Krystel nodded. "They ARE learning."
"The world of Intelligence girls. Smoke and mirrors. Things that make no sense, can be made to. If things make enough sense, they are believed." Lyssa told them. "That's were Black Intel comes in at. The best lies are ninety-nine percent truth. Krystel, break it down."
Krystel looked to them. "Think of it like fishing. Hook them with truth, reel them in with facts and they will go head-long into a net of fantasy. What does that mean? It means I get to spend most of the day creating my Legend. It's not hard, but it is time consuming. All three of you girls have a Legend that took a month to create. Our Legends were harder, because much of it isn't digital. Get it now?"
"The whole time they were training, their Legends were being made. The whole time I was retraining myself, I made my Legend. Halls of Records were physically entered and hard files planted. Hospitals, Census Offices, City Halls, Court Houses, Social Security offices, Newspaper Morgues, Libraries, Schools and Colleges. D.O.D. was the easiest. You three girls were a breeze." Lyssa told them.
"Maria was a nightmare. One hundred and twelve points of hard file."
Kimberly nodded. "And the files have to look authentic. Aged paper and inks, type-face of typewriters. Think about it. You can't just laser-print the documents and stick them in the drawer. Stands out like a grenade in a basket of Easter eggs."
Mindy had wide eyes. "WOW! ALL THAT?"
Lyssa smiled to Mindy. "You took a few hours and nine incursions. Shawna did yours. Speaking of, Shawna sent you all a package of DVDs and CDs. It's in the Hangar lounge."
All three girls squealed with glee and ran off for their new treasures.
Kimberly shook her head. "Why can't it be that easy with the Brass?"
"For one, they're not that cheap and second; they don't know about us. The more hoops we make them jump through to get what we need, we have to jump through four times more to hide it from them." Lyssa remarked.
"Oh god, ain't that the truth." Kimberly agreed.
That evening, LoneStar was piloting the Lear and took off heading Northwest to Eglin Air Force base. Krystel caught a hop on a C-17 heading for Andrews Air Force base. Madison met her there and drove to Washington Dulles Airport. Krystel's flight was scheduled to arrive at 0800 London time.
chapter 2
Tamara Smart waited just behind the Baggage Claim area, ahead of the Green Channel. In her bag was an airside pass, although she had no intention to show it unless that was strictly necessary. She checked a monitor, a flight from the Unites States had landed and a woman she was meeting was supposed to be on it. Tammy knew all international arrivals had to clear customs after collecting their luggage from the conveyor, her job was to ease her contact through that minor administrative irritation.
Today Tammy really felt the full the meaning of an American idiom she had heard once. She was the 'low man on the totem pole'. Late the day before, she had been pulled into James Townsend's office.
"Tammy, your curriculum will be suspended for a couple days. I have a bit of a task for you." The head of Room 40 stated.
Tammy looked confused. "Task, Sir?"
"Yes. We're going to be visited by an American. A woman with their Army's Counter Intelligence. As I understand it, they are 'repaying a favour' or some such thing." Townsend said.
"What favour, Sir?" Tammy asked, curious.
James shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't the foggiest. Apparently it's one those things above my pay grade, if you can believe that! The more you play in the Intelligence game, the more you'll come across it. We do a favour for someone, they do a favour for us and vice versa, it's off the books and officially never happens. Many times the details are deliberately murky for security reasons; need-to-know and all that. Things like this usually come from the result of back-channeling Tammy. It works on the concept of informal relations, instead of going through the Ministry officials and all that paperwork, a personal connection is used. It saves time and keeps us on friendlier terms on working levels."
"This happens alot?" Tammy asked.
Townsend nodded. "Quite a bit. All the time back in the Cold War days."
"Learn something new and didn't have to read a book." Tammy commented, mostly to herself then asked. "So what do I need to do?"
"You'll meet her at Heathrow, get her settled in then bring her here. More than likely she'll be jet-lagged. I'll be honest, I'm not expecting much. Probably hand us a drive-stick and that be all. I suspect she's merely acting as a courier. However, if she's not immediately turning back, look after her. Think of it as a weekend." Townsend said airily. "It counts as overtime and you're on full expenses, got it?"
Tammy did indeed get it. Townsend needed to delegate someone to babysit the American courier. As she was only being trained up, that meant she didn't have any pressing matters and the least important person, therefore the obvious choice. That her face was largely unfamiliar was useful.
"And it gets me out of your hair for a day or two." Tammy surmised.
Townsend nodded and referred to a page. "If you want to put it that way. Her flight arrives tomorrow morning at 8. Name is, there it is; Kerri Emerson. 8 A.M. Tamara. That will be all."
Now she was Heathrow, waiting. She saw the luggage carousel turning and people lining up around it. Bags began to descend onto it and the owners began claiming them. She tapped the small sign against her leg, waiting for people to start approaching.
"I'm not going to know you're here for me, unless you hold up the sign." A feminine voice said beside her.
Tammy turned and saw a pretty blonde woman with a carry-on bag beside her. "Miss Emerson?"
"Why don't we skip that part and you just call me Kerri. Ok?" Krystel asked.
Tammy nodded then remembered that she shouldn't just take face value. "Might I see some identification?"
Krystel chuckled. "Sure. Why not."
From the inner pocket of her suit jacket she produced a leather credential wallet and showed the badge then the ID. Tammy had looked up the Unites States Army's CounterIntelligence online the night before. The design of the badge and crest on the card looked authentic enough. The fact the woman provided the correct first name on her own was also in her favor.
Krystel laughed and whispered. "Maybe we should have agreed on a challenge and password?"
"That would have been cool. cliche', but cool." Tammy laughed. "I didn't drive over so we'll have to cab it."
Krystel nodded. "Fine by me. I'm ready. Didn't get your name though."
"Oh. I'm Tammy Smart. This way." Tammy said then led the way out, flashing her own pass at a bored Customs officer.
Outside they chose a taxi from the line and got in.
"Where to, ladies?" The driver asked.
Krystel answered. "Black Lion, please, the one off the Great West Road."
"Black Lion it is, Love." The cabby affirmed and pulled out into traffic.
Tammy was surprised. That was the last place she would expect an American to stay. Didn't they usually stay at the Marriot or the Millenium?
"So this isn't your first trip to London?" Tammy asked.
Krystel shook her head. "Nope. It's my third."
Tammy took a minute to discreetly look Kerri over. Even her shoes looked high-end.
Krystel noticed and smiled. "They're Prada and my suit is Carolina Herrera."
"Very nice." Tammy commented and thought to herself. 'Is it regular practice for American Intelligence service women to dress like that?'
Soon they were at the Black Lion Guest House and Krystel checked in. She waved Tammy to follow up to the room. Inside she set her case on the stand then went to the en suite bathroom and came out a few minutes later.
"Something on your mind?" Krystel asked.
Tammy shrugged. "Looking pretty flash for a spy. Is that regular?"
Krystel laughed. "When traveling it's a good idea to look 'flash' as you put it. They think businesswoman, not spy. Spies want to blend in and not be noticed. I stand out so in truth I do blend in. Once I get here, I can dress down if I want. I carry electronics, a businesswoman is expected to. If I wore an off-the-rack wash-and-wear suit and shoes from a chain store, I would stand out. Instead, I look like my take-home is over a hundred grand a year. Nobody is looking at me as more than some hot bitch they'd like to nail on the conference table."
Tammy's jaw dropped with that statement. "Wow. That is blunt."
Krystel detached the laptop case from the front of her carry-on. "Hide in plain sight Tammy. It works more times than you think. As a woman, it's more effective. You wouldn't believe how many times the guy in the loud suit with a bluetooth in his ear, randomly complaining about somebody named John or Fred goes ignored."
"That's crazy. Oh God! I've seen guys like that. I wanted to get as far away as I could!" Tammy admitted.
"Right. Now you know. Get four obviously designer suits. Two winter and two summer. A pair of Christian Louboutain black heels and a pair of white Manolo's. Wear one suit and pack the other, depending on the weather. A good pair of boots and coat for winter. Don't be easy through security, but don't be a nightmare either. Have a bluetooth in your ear and bitch about Barbara or Margaret." Krystel advised.
Tammy couldn't but laugh. "Really? That'll work?"
Krystel nodded. "Look like money and complain about your boss, people will leave you alone out of sympathy. When you get older, change it around; complain about useless assistants and other flunkies. Nobody wants to cross some uppity bitch that acts like the world is full of assholes in her way. Look like a corporate hatchet bitch out for scalps and nobody will give you a second thought. They'll treat you like that."
Tammy thought about it. It did seem to make sense. "I can pull that off. I do have the wardrobe, except the shoes."
"Well, let's get going. I'm sure your Big Chief Muck-a-muck is about ready to tear his hair out wondering what's going on." Krystel said and led the way out.
chapter 3
A tube ride brought them to a quiet neighborhood. At the corner Tammy led Krystel down the crossing street for almost half a block. She stopped at a wrought iron gate and let them in. At the well weathered door she rang the bell. It opened a moment later and a man in suit greeted them.
"Hello ladies. Do come in." The man invited them inside.
Krystel followed Tammy inside and took out her credentials.
The man closed the door and asked. "Might I see."
"These?" Krystel cut him off and held her credentials out.
He took the wallet. "Those, indeed. Thank you."
He looked them over and handed the wallet back. "In order, Agent Emerson. Miss Smart will see you up. I do need to inspect your case, though."
"Of course." Krystel handed over her laptop case.
He looked it over and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Would you mind leaving it here?"
"Kind of hard to show your boss why I'm here if I do that." Krystel said pointedly.
The man sighed. "I see."
Krystel nodded. "I understand OpSec and being cautious, however, I'm not here to pick up. I'm here to give. I hate to put it this way, but time is critical. You don't have time to mess around."
"What I don't have, Agent Emerson, is time to screw up. OpSec, is paramount here." The man said. "At the very least, you'll have to leave your pistol with me."
"No argument." Krystel pulled the Glock from the small of her back and handed it over.
Tammy had noticed the faint outline and was curious what kind of pistol an American would carry. Her gaze focused on it, she was surprised when a second was handed over as well.
The man gave her a wary look. "I think I should ask for anything else."
"No problem." Krystel pulled the Mad Dog Operator from her sleeve and handed it to him. "That's everything."
Tammy took interest in the knife. "Excuse me, but what exactly is this knife?"
"I'm not sure what it's called, Miss Smart. I believe it's made by Mad Dog knives in America." He replied.
Krystel answered them. "It isn't a new Frequent Flyer. It's called Operator. The blade is ceramic."
"I thought ceramic knives still set off detectors?" Tammy asked.
The man shook his head. "Commercial knives do. Mad Dog has government contracts and do not add the metal to the ceramic mix for government issued blades. Our people that travel commercially on a frequent basis are issued similar equipment. I do admit, I like the look of this model. The Operator, you said?"
Krystel nodded. "Yes. Can we get to it?"
He nodded, so Tammy took the lead. "This way."
Tammy led up the stairs and after pausing for the secretary, went into James Townsend.
"Mister Townsend, Agent Kerri Emerson." Tammy introduced. "Agent Emerson, James Townsend."
Krystel shook hands in the Euro-fashion. "Thank you for seeing me Mister Townsend. I won't waste your time. You have a verified threat of Imminent Hostile Action. Right here in London."
"WHAT?" Townsend blurted.
Krystel took out her laptop and a single page from her sleeve. "Here's the list for the next 48 hours. On my laptop I have more and the key to an encryption I know you'll be interested in."
James Townsend was by no means, a stupid man. "Follow me, now!"
Tammy, having no other instruction, followed as well.
Townsend led them to another staircase and led them down into a deep basement.
Krystel looked around and nodded in approval. "So this is your Arena. Not bad."
"We call it something else here, Agent Emerson." Townsend replied. "Shall we?"
"In the immortal words of Tone Loc; Let's Do It." Krystel said and took out her laptop. "I need a cable."
One of the technicians handed her the end of a cable while the laptop booted up. She keyed in the password and nodded to him. He typed in a command as well. A screen on the wall lit up and began to scroll code.
Krystel put on a headset, plugged into the laptop and spoke. "The code you now see is the encryption currently securing the network for True Freedom. They call themselves a militia group. That is incorrect. They are a terrorist group and their current target zone is the U.K."
Several began nod their heads and point up at the screen. The screen split and another set of code began to scroll.
"The second set of code is the key to that encryption. They have no idea their security is compromised." Krystel explained as the encryption shifted into coherent data.
Suddenly the room became agitated.
"BLOODY HELL! Those four places are targeted for tomorrow!" Townsend exclaimed.
Tammy noticed the locations. "Most of those are tourist hotspots!"
"High value soft targets. Those will grab serious media attention. International media attention." Krystel remarked. "Do not be fooled, these guys are pulling pages out of all the major players' books. This is their opening bid to make the big time and they're serious about it."
"Bloody fucking serious I'd say." One the technicians remarked.
Krystel fixed him with a look. "It's 'Go big or go home' when it comes to terrorist action. They count success in bodies same as we do, only the bodies they want are civilian. We want combatants' bodies."
Krystel slipped the headset off and stepped into a position, better viewed by the room at large. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me be very clear. Other agencies may marginalize, but my group doesn't. I may not not be up on all your procedures, but I am held to a particular standard. Anything other than complete destruction of the hostiles with NO civilian loss, is FAILURE! These are YOUR civilians and visitors to YOUR country. I found these terrorists that are about to cut loose in your front yard. I'm told that you were owed a favor, so I came here personally, to see to it that you got this information. My job is now done. The rest is ALL you."
Townsend said nothing, just snatched up the nearest phone and dialed. In moments he was in heated discussion.
"Excuse me, but just how in Bloody Hell did you get the encryption key?" One of the technicians asked.
Krystel smiled. "I stole it from them after I phased through their ICE. That's how I also know, they are unaware of the penetration. Go ahead and copy the data."
Over the next three hours, Krystel simply stood back and watched. This was the Brits' show now. Her mission was done.
"So what now?" Tammy asked.
Krystel shrugged. "Once I leave this building, I'm on my own time. My part is done now. Sometimes I get to watch the song and dance, other times I don't. Since this is your show, I don't have a ticket option. I'm surprised I'm still here."
Tammy nodded. "I see your point. Though I guess it could be a bit rude to just throw you out now."
"Report in! First two cells are down!" Townsend called out, after answering a phone.
A chorus of cheers called out. An hour later he reported that the other two London cells had been eliminated.
Tammy sighed in relief. "That's over."
Krystel shook her head. "It's only the first of many. Like the poet said; miles to go, before I sleep."
Tammy giggled. "We use kilometers these days, helps with European collaborations."
Krystel smirked back. "Wise-ass."
James Townsend walked over. "The other cell locations will be sometime. Thank you Agent Emerson, Miss Smart will look after you until your return flight. When is that?"
"Day after tomorrow. My schedule is irregular so I'm being allowed 'off days' here. I was going to get in some shopping tomorrow." Krystel remarked.
"I see. No matter, Miss Smart will still look after you." Townsend stated.
"Right." Krystel drawled then turned to Tammy. "Why don't we grab an early dinner."
They left after collecting Krystel's personal effects. I.E., her weapons.
Krystel followed Tammy's lead and together they rode the Tube into another section of town. Back on street level, Tammy gestured around.
"Take your pick." Tammy said.
"This is quite the assortment." Krystel laughed. "Even a McDonald's. How about something with color? Asian flair?"
Tammy thought about it. "Well. There's a Thai place close by. I've never been in though."
Krystel nodded. "Let's investigate."
Tammy led the way and turned down what looked like an alley. The scent of Asian cooking practically grabbed them by the nostrils.
"OH YEAH!" Krystel groaned.
"This is it." Tammy announced, stopping at a door then looked as Krystel started laughing. "What's so funny?"
Krystel pointed at the sign. "This is a Thai place?"
"I guess so." Tammy shrugged. "Why are you laughing?"
Krystel smiled and pointed at the sign. "That's Vietnamese! Come on."
Krystel took the lead and pulled Tammy inside and stopped at the inner doorway and bowed slightly to the young woman. Tammy's jaw dropped when Krystel spoke in a language she didn't know. The young woman working there looked to be very pleased and spoke back in the same language then led them to a table. The hostess left and came back with an elderly woman. Krystel and the woman talked, apparently a joke was told and the old woman laughed, swatting at Krystel's shoulder. Krystel laughed as well. The old woman was still smiling as she left and began yelling to the people in the kitchen.
"I'm going to take a wild guess here, you speak Vietnamese?" Tammy asked.
The hostess laughed. "You're American friend does, and she has quite the mouth on her! Grandma hasn't heard that joke since the Americans got her out of Saigon."
Tammy looked confused. "I don't follow."
"The older woman was a nurse during the Vietnam Conflict. It was an old joke the soldiers used to tell back then. You wouldn't get it, but it got my point across. Grannie is going to take real good care of us." Krystel explained.
A young man came from the back and set down two beers and poured them. Krystel thanked him and drank. Tammy drank and had to fight the urge to pull a face.
Krystel giggled. "Vietnamese beer tastes different than other beers. A word of warning, the rice wine will put you on your ass fast. The beer is safer."
Plates were brought out and set in front of them. Grannie chattered away at Krystel, nudging and pointing. Krystel giggled and replied back, seeming to egg her on. The waiter couldn't hold back anymore and started to laugh, only to be swatted himself, making him laugh harder.
Krystel looked over to Tammy. "Grannie brought us shrimp, Nha Trang style."
Tammy picked up the chopsticks and pointed to a plate. "What's this?"
"It's called Bahn Cahn Trang Bang. Pork, tapioca noodles, herbs and peppers." Krystel explained between bites.
Tammy tried it and nodded. "This is good."
Krystel looked over to old woman and said something.
The old woman patted Tammy's shoulder, nodded and said with a thick accent. "I easy on you. Not her!"
Krystel began laughing again and clicked her chopsticks. "Thanks Grannie."
The old woman swatted at her again and went back to the kitchen.
Tammy ate some more and asked. "What did she mean by that?"
"Oh. Grannie is going easy on the peppers for you. Not me, she's going the way they do in Vietnam, away from the tourist spots. Some of the stuff there will melt through a steel bowl." Krystel warned with a smile then tapped a bowl beside her plate. "I even asked for extra peppers."
Tammy looked at the bowl and figured she was being set up for a challenge, but Krystel shook her head.
"Bad idea if you're not very experienced with the cuisine." Krystel warned. "If you can't take a teaspoon of Tabasco sauce without crying, never get extra peppers in a Vietnamese resturaunt."
The old woman swatted Krystel's shoulder again. "BAH! You talk like Green Beret!"
Tammy decided it might be a good idea to try making nice. "I like the food Grandmum."
"Hmmmph. You behave better." The old woman said in approval and cupped Tammy's cheek. "A good girl."
Krystel giggled as the woman walked back to the kitchen. "She likes you."
"Is that a good thing?" Tammy asked.
Krystel nodded. "Yeah. You come around frequent and she'll take care of you personally. You know you're in good with Grannie if she brings you to the back to eat with her. She'll build up your tolerance easy and treat you like one of her own grandkids."
Tammy was about to ask another question when a bowl of soup was set down in front of her. She looked up and the old woman patted her shoulder and said something in Vietnamese.
"Grannie said, eat up." Krystel told her then added quietly. "I'd bet that it's the family's main dinner tonight. It's a big gesture."
Tammy tried it and discovered it to be very rich and tasty. "Wow, that's really good."
"Don't be surprised if you never get a table when you come in by yourself from now on." Krystel commented.
Tammy looked up. "They won't serve me?"
Krystel shook her head. "Nope. Grannie will come out and pull you back there to eat with her and the kids. Want some advice?"
"Sure." Tammy said.
"Eat here at least once every two weeks." Krystel said. "They'll probably start teaching you Vietnamese."
"I only heard of this place in passing." Tammy remarked.
Krystel took another pepper and munched. "This is what we call 'a hole in the wall place'. There's no tourists in here. Notice that?"
Tammy discreetly looked around and nodded. "Now I do. Is that a good thing?"
"Yep. Get yourself in a bind and you're on Grannie's good side, you can hide out. Grannie was an ARVN nurse. Army of Republic of Vietnam. She's a tough ol' bird. You get hurt and she'll patch you up too." Krystel said. "She was a Hail Mary."
"Hail Mary?" Tammy asked.
Krystel nodded. "After Saigon fell, which was the last city the U.S. pulled out of, a lot people friendly to us got left behind. Missions went in to get as many out as possible. Grannie was one of the last ones to get pulled. Didn't get to the part of how she wound up here instead of the U.S."
The hostess had the last part of Krystel's explanation and spoke up. "Grandmother is always grateful to the soldiers who sneak back to rescue her. Brave men that kept their word to protect her. It was a Colonel named Butler, no matter how much money the North offered, he kept going back to bring people out. Grandmother was the last one. He brought her to Thailand and somehow got her permission to come here. She made her life here, but never forgot the Colonel and his men. Grandmother thinks it funny, such a young American woman knows how to talk to her."
"That's quite the story. Have you heard of this Colonel, Kerri?" Tammy asked.
Krystel shook her head. "Before my time. I know the type though."
"I'll have to come by more often when I'm in London." Tammy told her.
The hostess nodded. "You will always be welcome."
The old woman came back out and looked at Tammy. "What your name?"
"Tammy. Tammy Smart, Mum." Tammy answered.
The old woman nodded then said something to the hostess and went back to the kitchen.
"What did she say?" Tammy asked.
The hostess smiled. "Grandmother said that you don't sit out here anymore. You eat with her in the back from now on."
Krystel smirked. "Told you so."
"I look forward to it." Tammy said, going for diplomacy.
Krystel called out in Vietnamese and the old woman returned. Krystel pulled money from her purse and handed it her then stood up and hugged her. the woman hugged her back then smiled finally.
When Tammy stood up she was immediately hugged by her as well and told firmly. "You come back, Tammy."
"I will Grandmum." Tammy said returning the hug.
Together they walked out. Tammy saw Krystel back to The black Lion then went home for the night.
chapter 4
The next morning Tammy met Krystel in the lobby.
"Did you already have breakfast?" Krystel asked.
Tammy nodded. "Yes. Have you?"
"I've been up for hours. No pool, so I had to extend my run." Krystel chuckled.
Tammy led the way out. "You run and swim everyday?"
"I bike too. Twenty-five mile bike ride, seven mile swim and fifteen mile run. Six days a week."
Krystel said as they went down to the Tube.
That impressed Tammy. "Are you training for an event?"
"Yeah. It's called 'staying alive'." Krystel commented.
The station was practically empty so Tammy asked. "I'm curious about something, may I ask a professional question?"
"You can ask, some things I can't answer. You know how that goes." Krystel replied.
Tammy nodded. "I get that. What I wanted to ask is, do you shoot very often?"
"I'm on a range twice a week." Krystel answered. "Is that what you really wanted to ask?"
"I saw you carried two pistols. I got curious." Tammy explained.
Krystel nodded. "Oh. Yeah, that would get you curious. You have tight gun laws here. Have you ever handled a sidearm before?"
"I took a course, I qualified." Tammy sidestepped.
"Right. Well, I travel a good bit. Not everywhere has those kind of laws. I can expect to get into a spot, anytime, anywhere. Shit happens Tammy. It can, and probably will, happen to you. There's only one thing you can do about it. Prepare and train for the worst, hope for the best and pray it evens out at the end of the day." Krystel said heavily.
Tammy understood that. "I get it."
"Shooting is a perishable skill. Especially if you use heavy calibers. They probably taught you with a nine millimeter. Standard NATO issue. I carry two forty calibers. It has more stopping power. That means it hits harder and makes more damage. That comes with a price though. You have to shoot more often to stay accurate. If I didn't shoot often enough, I'd lose strength in my hands, wrists and arms. That means I can't shoot very long. Not all firefights are over in a couple of seconds. Some can drag out. Don't shoot enough, you're in trouble fast." Krystel said.
The train came and they had to hold their conversation around the other riders. Krystel said she wanted to hit Harrods, then Picadilly. Tammy was surprised at the purchases. It seemed that Kerri was buying for multiple ages and both genders.
"You must come from a large family, Kerri." Tammy remarked.
Krystel laughed. "You'd think that. Some of this is for friends and their kids."
"Oh." Tammy nodded, then realized it was a side-step.
Kerri answered her question, without answering the question.
Krystel looked around. "Let's stop for a while."
"There is a Starbucks. Fancy a coffee?" Tammy asked.
Krystel agreed. "Why not?"
They went in and Krystel paid for both coffees and some pastries. Their conversation was casual, mostly about fashion. Tammy learned that Kerri preferred American designers for her business wear, but Italian shoes. Her lingerie ranged from American sportswear to French designers, depending on her activity.
Tammy had noticed that Kerri was not wearing, nor mentioned hosiery and was about to ask when Kerri's expression changed. She took on a hardened look.
Tammy asked. "What is it?"
"How many people have we seen wearing bulky long coats?" Krystel asked.
Tammy found that odd. "None I recall. Why?"
Krystel shifted in her seat. "Our day is about to go to shit."
"What?" Tammy asked then found herself yanked out of the chair as Kerri dove to the side.
"CONTACT, RED THREE!" Krystel yelled pulling Tammy to the floor and behind a wall.
Automatic rifles cut the usual din of the coffee shop and people began to scream in fear.
"BLOODY HELL!" Tammy stated.
Krystel put her back to the wall and pulled a pistol from behind her. "Tammy are you carrying?"
"I damn well am!" Tammy pulled her handbag closer and brought out the Glock.
"Get ready to go hot." Krystel instructed and picked up a metal spoon and tossed it against a window.
The smack and clang of the spoon drew all eyes to the window, including the four gunners. Krystel dropped to the floor into a line of fire as Tammy leaned around the corner. Both fired. first one, then another dropped screaming. Number three looked unaffected and turned to the real threat. Krystel's pistol shifted and spat out two rounds that brought him down. Tammy shifted to the last gunman as he fired toward them. A stitch of bullets chewed toward Krystel as she fired again and dropped him.
"SHIT! I hit him Kerri. Why didn't he go down?" Tammy asked angrily.
Krystel stood up. "Everybody stay down!"
Tammy followed her over to the downed gunmen as they struggled to reclaim their dropped rifles. One managed to get his hand on his rifle, only to have Krystel shoot into his shoulder.
"FORGET IT!" Krystel ordered then turned to the other. "You think that hurts. I can shoot you somewhere else and prove otherwise. Secure those rifles."
Tammy moved to gather up the rifles. That's when she noticed the wounds. Krystel had shot them in the hips and neck area.
'Why would she do that?' Tammy wondered to herself.
Police arrived calling out.
Krystel called out. "SECURE! FRIENDLY, FRIENDLY!"
"Put the gun down!" An armed officer called out.
Slowly Krystel put her pistol down on a table and turned to Tammy. "Gun on the table."
Tammy complied, putting the rifles on one table and her pistol on the same table as Kerri's.
Five armed officers slowly entered.
Krystel called out. "The police are here, please stay where you are. They'll get everybody cleared soon."
"We'll give the orders." The lead officer said.
Krystel nodded slowly. "Fine by me, but I'd rather these civilians not get shot by mistake, thinking it's safe now that you're here. I'm going to reach into my pocket slowly. I'm getting my ID."
"Slow and this better be good." The lead officer nodded.
Krystel slowly opened one side of her jacket with one hand and slowly reached in with the other to bring out the wallet. She held it out.
The officer took it and looked at both the badge and card. "Bloody Hell. This is going to be a hell of a mess. You can relax. What about your friend there?"
"I'll have to get my purse. It's over there." Tammy said and at his nod, retrieved it.
Carefully she extracted her firearms certificate and her special authority - the ubiquitous 'Get Of Of Jail Free' card.
The officer groaned. "It just keeps getting better."
"BOLLOCKS! These bastards are wearing body armour!" One of the other officers remarked.
Tammy looked over. "That's why he didn't go down!"
The lead officer noticed Krystel smirking. "You knew, didn't you?"
Krystel shrugged. "Bulky coats in this weather, it's a gimme."
Slowly the other patrons were brought out after clearing them.
A supervisory officer came in. "What happened?"
The lead officer went over and spoke quietly then pointed to Krystel and Tammy. The wounded were removed under guard and the dead was taken out covered with a sheet. Finally he walked over.
"Agent Emerson. Why is an American Intelligence officer shooting people in London?" The Supervisor asked.
Krystel gave him a flat look. "Just trying to stay alive."
"That's far from funny." The Supervisor stated.
Krystel glared at him. "You see me smiling?"
He was about to say something but was cut off.
"Here's how this can go down. You can raise hell about it and all the big government types get involved, that would create some very hard feelings and you get into eighteen different kinds of shit. Or 'the terrorists were taken down by officers that happened to be on a routine patrol' and there is no mention of any kind of intelligence people. Your people look good for the media and compliments go all around." Krystel said. "Unless you like sitting in offices of people in suits with no names that can make your career no longer exist? Oh, and I'll still be leaving tomorrow."
Tammy was quick on the uptake and added. "It does make things a bit sticky, two countries cooperating with each other, and one of those people get caught up in a terrorist attack and then harassed for saving all those civilians."
Tammy was following Kerri's lead, hoping they could fast-talk their way out of this. She could see the gears shifting in the officer's head when it all came to a grinding halt. Three men in suits walked in and called him over.
"Kerri. Why do I feeling that we almost got out of this?" Tammy whispered.
Krystel winked. "What do you mean 'almost'? This just got even more fun. We're about to be told to clear the area."
Suit One came over and handed their IDs back. "Out. Take the back door."
Krystel took her wallet and picked up her pistol. "We were never here."
Tammy followed suit and three minutes later they were in an alley walking away.
"I can't believe that worked. I'll probably be in deep tomorrow." Tammy said.
Krystel laughed. "Nope. If they mention your name, then have to bring me in and then that starts a whole slew of shit. No country wants to admit an American agent had to save their people during a terrorist attack. You won't even get a post-it note in your file over this. Especially an agent that has already helped them take down terror cells in their own country before they even launched attacks."
"Politics." Tammy said flatly.
Krystel shook her head. "Diplomacy. When people share Intel, the last thing anybody wants to do, is make it stop."
"What's the phrase? You've been here before?" Tammy asked.
Krystel smiled. "I think I know a place we could get a drink tonight. Meet me at seven. We'll grab a bite at the hotel then go out for drinks."
Tammy was surprised to see Kerri out of business-wear and definitely dressed for a night out. She was glad she had taken her sister's advice and wore her little black dress. Kerri wore a light blue dress that hugged her curves and silver sandals with stiletto heels. This time, Tammy followed Krystel's lead. They got off the tube at Embankment and walked down the street, drawing looks and comments of appreciation. When Kerri turned up a cobbled alley, Tammy wondered where they were going.
"Ok Kerri, I give. Where are we going?" Tammy asked.
Krystel stood at a door and opened it. "Here."
Inside Krystel could feel it and smiled. This was the right place. It was quiet and most of the conversations stopped as heads turned to note the newcomers.
Krystel walked straight to the bar. Tammy stay right on her tail.
"Evenin' ladies. Get you something?" the bartender asked in an obvious Australian accent.
Krystel smiled. "Evening. My friend and I would like scotch."
"Any in particular?" The bartender asked.
Krystel looked over to Tammy. "Wolfburn alright with you?"
"Sure, a decent twelve year old, if I recall." Tammy answered.
"Wolfburn, neat." Krystel said then looked around and settled on a man staring at her. "Send one to that gentleman as well. Make it a double for him."
After the glasses were set in front of them Tammy looked to Krystel. "Not many know about Wolfburn. What made you order it?"
"It's won three awards recently." Krystel said then said quietly. "I hear it's bad form to not drink scotch in a bar over here. I asked at the hotel, they recommended it. Why, you don't like it?"
"I like it just fine. I've drank it several times. What do you drink?" Tammy asked.
"Whatever is local. Otherwise I drink Crown and Seven." Krystel said.
An older voice with a strong Scottish accent said. "That's mighty nice o' you, but I wonder why you'd buy me a drink?"
"Oh. You just reminded me of my Uncle. Paul." Krystel remarked.
The old man smiled. "I see. Well my name just happens to be Sean, what's yours Darlin'?"
"You can call me Kerri." Krystel smiled.
Sean nodded. "Fine name. What about you?"
Tammy replied. "Tammy."
Sean nodded, taking note of the hint of accent to Tammy. "Fine name on you as well. So what brings you girls here?"
"Oh, just looking for a place with a respectable crowd." Krystel replied, putting stress on the word respectable.
Tammy discreetly looked around. She noticed almost all the men had the close haircut of being military. They all stood easy and confident. Kerri had brought them into a pub for current and ex-military.
"This uncle of yours, fair man with a drink is he?" Sean chuckled.
Krystel nodded. "Upon occasion, in the tropics. Seems like good company here, fine lads?"
"The finest, of course darlin'." Sean replied.
Krystel smiled. "Nice. London is so busy lately. Lots of noise. I could do with a bit of pleasant company. I'm sure Tammy feels the same."
Sean turned around and caught a young man's eye, who came over.
"Ladies." The young man greeted.
Sean introduced them. "Wade, this is Kerri. And this young lady is Tammy. Tammy could do with engaging company."
"Glad to, Colonel." Wade nodded to him then said to Tammy. "Hello Tammy. Marcus Wade, ever been to Afghanistan?"
Sean nodded. "Carry on Captain."
Tammy found herself steered away and talking with an obvious officer in the Army.
Sean turned back to Krystel. "Tropics, huh? So you're one of Dannigan's people?"
"Uncle sends his regards." Krystel said.
Sean nodded. "What else does he send?"
"Me and your latest bit of business. Hope the lads had a good time." Krystel remarked.
Sean chuckled. "Ask Wade."
Krystel looked over and smiled. "He looks busy."
"So he does. Heard a story today. Somebody took issue over a coffee. Wouldn't know about that would you?" Sean asked.
Krystel shrugged. "I went shopping with Tammy today Colonel MacTaggart. A turn around Picadilly. Can't visit London and not go there. I did see some gentlemen all done up in their suits."
"I'm sure you did." Sean nodded.
Krystel added. "They may have taken interest in Tammy and I. I don't think she could handle more than one admirer at a time though."
"Right you are. And yourself?" Sean asked.
Krystel smiled. "I'm the love 'em and leave 'em type. I'm not worried."
MacTaggart understood. By the time her plane crossed out of airspace, she would no longer exist. "Well, being that Tammy is a local girl, perhaps I should look after her best interests. Like an Uncle would."
"That would be very kind. A girl can always do, with an Uncle looking after her best interests." Krystel commented. "Bartender. A round for us, and include my two friends over there."
He nodded and filled glasses for them and traded for the ones they had emptied. Tammy did find the officer a good conversationalist. Before she and Krystel left, he slipped her a card.
In the Tube, Tammy asked. "Why do I get the feeling you wanted to go to that bar on purpose and knew exactly who would be there?"
"Got his number or did you give him yours?" Krystel smiled.
Tammy rolled her eyes. "I got his, now you."
"I just like being around military. Don't you?" Krystel gave Tammy a dreamy look.
Tammy shook her head, she knew she wasn't going to get anything out her. What she found strange, was that Kerri didn't seem to want anything out of her either. She said goodnight at the Black Lion and caught the Tube back home.
Tammy stood in Heathrow the next morning, this time saying goodbye.
"Well Tammy. It's been nice meeting you." Krystel said.
Tammy nodded back. "It's been an adventure. Maybe one day I'll visit you. You can show me some American excitement."
Krystel laughed. "I doubt you'll find it that interesting. Shootings, stabbings, beatings. And that's just to claim your luggage. You want real crime, just wait until you fill up the gas tank of a rental car."
An announcement was called out.
"That's for me." Krystel said.
Tammy decided to see what Kerri would say. "Where could I write to you at?"
"P.O. Box 1142, Arlington, Virginia." Krystel replied. "Take care."
Krystel turned and went to the gate, presenting her ticket. Tammy watched as the plane finally took off twenty minutes later. Krystel retraced her route, Heathrow to Dulles then a quick ride over to Andrews to catch a hop back down to Eglin to be picked up by Pete to go back to Ram's Rock island. She was barely down the steps of the Lear that evening, when three girls swarmed her with hugs.
Krystel laughed. "Yes. I brought presents. For everybody."
In the lounge of the main hangar Lyssa gave a sad look.
"Can't even let you go for coffee Krystel." Lyssa said in a disappointed voice.
Maria looked over. "Indeed. Weren't you going over there just to give data, not solve the issue personally? I thought you were the more reserved of this insane collective"
"What gave you that idea? Hey, I can't help it if they can't handle the frap." Krystel said. "Keep up the critique and you won't get your presents."
Three girls chorused. "PLEASE!"
Krystel began handing out packages.
Tamara's Tales characters appear with permission. Thanks Shiraz!
Embracing Justice characters appear with permission. Thanks Jess!
The Chrysalis Project Book 8: Ghost Moth 3 Domestic and Disturbance
Life in Belder is fairly quiet, a small friendly town. But the holidays don't bring out the best in all. WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Shawna stood out on the front walk admiring the lights. She had hired four high school boys to put up Christmas lights outside. Inside, she had set up an artificial tree and decorated it. She had been surprised that her holidays had been relatively quiet; minor incursions into various Intelligence agencies to maintain or upload O.I.C.A. identities. Sex scandals didn't warrant her attention and that seemed to be the current thing of late. Money and sex; politicos had their priorities, getting laid or paid. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, according to Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr back in 1849. The quote was still applicable it seemed and had been updated sometime back; 'Same shit, different day'.
The sound of a vehicle approaching caught her attention. A Belder Police SUV eased to a stop and the window powered down.
"That's nice!" Blake Jacobsen remarked and chuckled. "Can't really call it Dark House now."
Shawna smirked. "It's the holidays. I don't mind some festive sparkle. The boys did a great job."
"I'd like to say that I'm routine patrolling, but I can't. This is an official visit." Blackjack said.
Shawna arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Blackjack nodded seriously. "Yeah. Tomorrow night your presence is requested to accompany myself and the kids on a rolling sweep of the town to ascertain the presence of homes decorated with lights in a holiday theme. After dinner out, of course."
"Dinner out. That sounds like a bribe of sorts there, Chief." Shawna frowned.
Blake kept a straight face. "At Angelique's."
"I guess even I have a price." Shawna remarked. "Done. But dessert better be included or it's your ass, guy."
Blake nodded. "No problem, just don't hit me."
He recalled having to respond to a purse-snatching incident on Black Friday. When he arrived, the perpetrator was writhing on the sidewalk in agony as Shawna stood over him, looking down in annoyance. Nicky Jacobsen was out shopping with her and recounted what happened.
"A lady screamed for her purse Daddy, and we saw him running this way. Miss Shawna nudged me to move then spun around and kicked him face-first into the wall. He bounced off the wall while she spun around the other way and kicked him again. He smacked his face on the fire hydrant then the sidewalk! He can't talk now!" Nicky gushed.
Hospital x-rays confirmed it, his jaw was broken on both sides, along with his nose and most of his teeth had been knocked out. That pretty much served as a deterrent for further holiday crimes of convenience. Nobody wanted to run afoul of the mysterious Shawna Daniels. Many whispered that she was a Fed of some type. Especially Priscilla Herrington.
She tried being her usual self, demanding attention and digging around into Shawna's business. Three hours later; her and the Mayor's credit cards and bank accounts were frozen, licenses were suspended, all household utilities and services turned off. The Mayor practically groveled at Shawna's feet for mercy, but she was having none of it. Many of the town expressed their own hostility at Priscilla's meddling and bullying, having been on the receiving end of it too.
The next morning Bradley Herrington filed for divorce, citing mental and emotional cruelty. Their sons demanding he have custody of them both. Judge Ed Reinhold took the hearing immediately and awarded the divorce. Bradley was granted custody of the boys, the house and one of the cars. Priscilla was awarded a modest alimony, visitation of the boys at their discretion and the other car. Brad and the boys returned home to all services mysteriously restored. Priscilla Herrington resumed her maiden name of Malloray and all but ran home to Wilmington, Delaware in shame. Two weeks later Bradley Herrington was seen in the company of the owner of the local florist shop owner and seemed to be hitting it off.
Danny Jacobsen had finally began to show interest in girls. During a talk with Shawna, he was horrified to hear her recommend he should take some kind of dance lessons. In desperation he went to his father.
Blake sighed. "I'm sorry son, but Shawna is right. Girls like dancing and boys that know how are real prizes to them. Dancing, flowers and movies that make them cry are very important to girls. Remember that movie The Crow? The guy said 'little things meant so much, I always thought they were trivial'. It's true, Danny. Girls are all about the little things. It's important to a girl that a boy they like pays close attention to them. New hairstyles and perfume. A new outfit. They do things like that to get a boy's attention and are happy when he notices. Even more when he likes it."
"Even Marines, Dad?" Danny asked.
Blake nodded firmly. "Especially Marines. We're the best. Because of your Mom, I learned how to dance."
Danny noticed he confided that last part uneasily. "Really?"
"Yeah. You weren't born yet and I was stationed in San Diego. The yearly Marine Corps' Ball. I had a Colonel and he was big on image for his command, professionally and personally. Colonel Cavanaugh said all the time, 'A Marine is the epitome of American Military Excellence; Dedicated, Educated and Cultured. From the time he or she wakes until sleep claims them, do everything to the best ability. Put forth all of yourself into your service, to country and family'. He personally saw to it that all of us knew how to at least waltz and our dress uniforms were immaculate. Your Mom was so happy. It was better than prom." Blake confessed.
Daniel Jacobsen was astounded. "Wow, Dad!"
"Come on, son." Blake stood up. "I'll take you myself. We'll enroll you down at the dance school."
Danny looked in shock. "Dad, the guys'll be all over me! They'll make fun of me!"
"The girls'll will be all over you more, wanting to date you and not them. You'll have your pick, they won't. Girls like boys that get good grades, know how to dance and can name their favorite flowers without reading a sign. Besides, I hear dancing helps athletes with balance and coordination." Blake replied.
Danny shook his head. "No way am I wearing tights and stuff, Dad."
"You don't. I don't mean ballet. I mean ballroom. Like on tv." Blake informed him. "You can wear jeans or slacks."
That settled the argument and they went. Twice per week, Danny had an hour long dance lesson. Nicky had been signed up as well and learned as his partner. Eventually the two were switched with two others that were of their ages and the pairings were even better.
Shawna sat in the passenger seat, while the kids sat in the back of Blake's personal SUV as they drove around. He was even out of uniform, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. Casually they meandered the streets looking at the various homes with lights. Finally they went to the town square for the city's tree lighting. The Mayor made a very brief speech and turned to a local girl-scout who happily pushed the button, turning on the tree lights. An hour later it started to snow again so people made their way home.
At Shawna's house, the four drank hot chocolate in the living room as a fire blazed away in the fireplace.
Blake stood up, reached into his pocket to withdraw a small box then went down on one knee in front of her.
"Shawna, we've spent quite a bit of time together. I enjoy your company, as do the kids. I admire you and look forward to seeing you everyday. I would like, very much, to have you in our lives and be part of yours. Would you marry me?" Blake asked and opened the box to reveal an engagement ring.
Shawna smiled then looked over to the kids. "Do you approve?"
Danny simply nodded, while Nicky smiled and answered. "Yes Ma'am!"
"Then yes, I will." Shawna replied to Blake and held out her left hand.
After slipping the ring on her finger they kissed. Shawna invited them to move in with her, as her house was much bigger than Blake's father-in-law's house. The next weekend they moved in with her. On Monday morning, Blake received an email from the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General(four stars) Robert Neller. His presence was requested to report in person to a location in Washington. No reply necessary.
Blake pulled in and parked at a very plain looking office building and went inside. It didn't appear to be military at all and rode the elevator up. When he got off and inquired with a receptionist, he was directed to an office.
"Good morning, Chief Jacobsen." The secretary greeted. "Go right in."
Blake nodded. "Thank you."
He knocked anyway and entered the office.
A formidable man, sitting behind a desk, looked up. "Come in and have a seat."
Blake sat down. "Excuse my confusion, Sir, I was told by Commandant Neller to report here."
"Yes. I'm Paul Dannigan. Shawna works for me." Dannigan stated. "She informed me of your proposal. Congratulations."
Blake nodded. "Thank you, Sir. Is that why I'm here?"
"Correct. I won't waste time, Jacobsen. I do approve of the relationship, but there are some things you need to know." Dannigan said.
"I'm listening." Blake replied.
Dannigan began. "I'm aware that you know that her real name is Shawna Davies and the Daniels name is her official cover. I won't tell you the name of this agency, but I will say that much of her work is classified. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, Sir. I understand Need-To-Know. I'm fairly certain now, that you know my history." Blake said.
Dannigan nodded. "I knew all about you right after you met her. I liked what I saw. Good Marine, better man. Shawna has no family of her own anymore, all her connections are professional and social. Have you any questions?"
"Sir, she confided that she is a post-operative transgender woman. I had no idea otherwise, but it makes no difference to me personally. Just clarifying that." Blake stated.
Dannigan gave a look of approval. "Glad you feel that way. She had asked about confiding that to you. I gave my approval. As I said; good Marine, better man. For the public, I will be referred to as her uncle. Only you are to know my real position. Later on, your children can be made aware of the truth. Acceptable?"
Blake nodded. "Yes Sir. I do have one question. Those teens that were in Belder, were you behind that?"
"I was. They were housed there until a better facility was available. They have all been relocated and the scrutiny is back down to your level. Your diligent duty is commended, but can't be made public. A grant is being made to your department as a quiet thanks." Dannigan answered.
Blake accepted that. "Much appreciated. I know now, I should be addressing you by a rank. May I know it?"
"Major, since you asked. Army. As to what exactly I do; let's just say that I handle resolutions." Dannigan replied then handed him a card.
Blake saw only a toll-free number on the card. No name, organization or even insignia. "I take it, this number only works once?"
"Correct. And only from a number in your name or Shawna's landline. Do I need to state the obvious?" Dannigan asked.
Blake shook his head. "No, Major. Only in the event of her injury and she can not contact you on her own."
"That and you, yourself, are vulnerable. Your children will be watched over by us. Your father-in-law as well, if need be." Dannigan said flatly.
Blake was surprised at that. "I'm a bit shocked to hear that. Thank you, Major."
"I take care of my own. You, by extension, are now one. Madison is my secretary and one of my subordinates is named Kimberly. You may not get me directly, but they can see to your needs. Any questions?" Dannigan asked.
Blake nodded. "One, Major. Will you be attending our wedding?"
"I will. Somebody has to walk her down the aisle." Dannigan smirked.
Blake stood up to leave and suddenly noticed a portrait of a ballerina on the wall. "Is that Lyssa Kordenay?"
"Yes it is. You like ballet?" Dannigan asked.
Blake replied. "My daughter does. Lyssa Kordenay is her idol."
"Shawna is acquainted with her, so don't be surprised if she wants to invite her as well. Maybe you could have it be a surprise for her." Dannigan remarked.
Blake smiled. "Nicky would be over moon at that. I'll keep it under my hat. Good day, Major. Thank you for seeing me."
Chapter 2
Christmas was a week away and things were quiet. It was now common knowledge around town that Blake and Shawna were engaged. The date of the ceremony would be in April and held locally. As neither were religious, it would be held in the local garden with the reception at the nearby AmVets Hall. Blake sat in the kitchen of Shawna's house having lunch on Monday, the kids were in school and not due to be off until Friday since Christmas day was on the following Monday.
"Chief! Are you available? Emergency!" His radio announced.
Blake keyed his mic. "I'm here. What's the problem?"
"Reports of shots fired at 827 Hickory!" The Dispatcher said frantically.
"On my way!" Blake was now worried as he got up and said to himself. "Howard Matthews! That crazy asshole!"
"What's his story?" Shawna asked.
Blake answered angrily. "He's our local nut. Anti-authority, doomsday, paranoid and armed. Word is, he may have modified weapons."
Shawna bolted up. "I'm going with you!"
She grabbed her pistol belt from her study, along with a leather jacket and black duffel on the way out.
"You need a vest." Blake pointed out.
Shawna shrugged into the jacket. "This has a ballistic rating. Let's go. You lead, I'm your back-up."
Blake nodded as they got into his patrol unit. "Thanks."
With lights and siren, it took them minutes to get to the location. Two other units were already there with officers crouched behind the front ends for cover. At the end of the street Blake had cut the siren and came in quietly.
"What's the story, Mark?" Blake asked.
Mark Hempner gave an aggravated look. "That dumb-ass, Howard, shot the guy on the porch through the damn door! We can't even get to him to see if he's alive or not!"
"Olivia next door said the guy was going door-to-door for the Salvation Army shelter. I called and confirmed it. His name is Clarence Gilyard, moved here six months ago." Bryan Kirkland added. "I tried to go up to the porch, fucker shot at me! I even announced who I was, by name!"
Blake swore then reached into the patrol unit and got on the loudspeaker. "Howard! This is Chief Blake Jacobsen!"
That was all Blake could announce. The house occupant let loose with auto-fire from an assault rifle, making them all take cover.
"SON OF A BITCH!" Blake swore from behind the vehicle.
Shawna joined them, crouching down. "AR-15. You want my help?"
After another stream of bullets hitting the vehicle Blake nodded. "YES!"
Shawna reached into the bag and pulled two smoke grenades. She pulled the pin and threw them, one by one, into the yard. Dark blue smoke began to block the front of the house. More auto-fire erupted. The four were already moving though. They were coming in at angles to avoid direct fire. Shawna located the window being used to shoot from and pitched in a flash-bang. She had counted down her throw and it went off just inside the window. The gunner held down the trigger spraying wildly.
Bryan checked the man on the porch and called out. "Dead!"
Blake was kicking in the door then took cover. "Leave him there. We deal with this asshole first!"
Shawna peeked around then led the way in, her HK USPs at the ready. Shawna took the right wall of the foyer and Blake on the left. Mark was behind Blake and Bryan was behind Shawna. Shawna waved Bryan back a few paces. She reached a doorway and held position. Mark's foot scattered some empty shell-casings on the hard floor. Immediately shots came through the right wall into the left. Bryan dove back out of the line, Mark and Blake both yelled and went to the floor. Shawna spun in and fired both pistols, getting a scream of pain.
The gunner dropped to one knee and swung his rifle toward her, only to be shot into each shoulder, causing the rifle to be dropped. He swore at her and tried to pick the rifle back up.
"Check on Blake and Mark!" Shawna ordered Bryan as she advanced on the middle-aged man and shoved him to the floor with her boot. "DOWN!"
"I'M A SOVEREIGN CITIZEN! GET OFF MY LAND!" Matthews bellowed.
Shawna holstered her left pistol and began pulling handguns off him. "You murdered an unarmed man over nothing and attempted to murder three local police officers and Federal Agent! That 'sovereign citizen' crap won't save your ass! BLAKE? MARK?"
Blake came in. "I'm ok. In my vest. Mark got a crease across his left thigh, but not serious. Paramedics on the way."
"I'LL KILL ALL YOU BASTARDS AND THAT BITCH TOO! SOVEREIGN TERRITORY! YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY!" Howard swore.
Blake fell to the urge and kicked him in the shoulder, getting a scream. "DUMB-FUCK! You have the right remain silent! Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in court! You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one, one will be appointed! Understand your rights?"
"FUCK YOU!" Matthews spat.
Blake growled. "You're under arrest for murder and attempted murder of three police officers and a Federal Agent!"
Matthews continued to spew obscenities and threats, even tried to fight as the paramedics worked on him. Finally they sedated him to get him under control.
Blake waved off being checked out. "See to Mark first."
"He's being taken to the hospital, Chief." The paramedic replied.
Blake nodded. "I took one to the vest. It hit my plate, so I'm good. Shawna?"
"I'm clean. I have to get another jacket though." Shawna remarked.
Blake sighed. "Send me a bill."
"Forget it. No big deal." Shawna replied.
"Chief? Coroner's here." Bryan called out from the front door. "Crime scene techs too."
The house was processed. It took over three hours to find all the guns and secure them, numbering over a hundred and thousands or rounds of ammunition. There were over twenty assault rifles, all illegally modified to fully-automatic. Three more were in the process of conversion. There were several pipe-bomb IEDs as well. The local news' crews had a field day. Shawna slipped away unnoticed, driving Mark's patrol unit back to the station and went home, arriving just in time for the kids to come in from school. Both became alarmed when they heard about the events.
"It's ok. I had your Dad's back. We're both fine." Shawna reassured them.
That calmed Daniel down some, but Nicky was still clingy to her and reluctantly let go to do her homework. Dinner that night was subdued.
Chapter 3
"Big excitement." Kimberly commented over the video conference the next morning.
Shawna rolled her eyes. "Just another nut-job, Kim. How's things down there?"
"We had our own drama after everybody got back from Europe. The bunch Lyssa used to be with, came down. It didn't go well, but nothing to worry about." Kimberly stated.
That got Shawna's attention. "THOSE guys? What's the story on that?"
"In-person only. You coming down for the holidays or staying up there?" Kimberly asked.
Shawna smiled. "Up here. With my fiance and the kids."
"Jacobsen?" Kimberly asked excitedly.
Shawna was still smiling. "I had them move in with me. It's official. You're all invited and the Major is giving me away, as my 'uncle'."
Shawna gave her the date and Kimberly made note of it. "All that can, will be there!"
"Where?" Krystel asked, coming into view.
Shawna grinned. "My wedding. Maid of Honor!"
"FOR REAL?" Krystel exclaimed and got a nod. "OF COURSE! What about Tiffany?"
"I'll tell her tomorrow, but she may not be able to come. You know Lyssa, she'll come, but would rather one of you two be honored." Shawna answered.
Lyssa came into view. "That's right. Congratulations, Shawna. I'm glad you have somebody. He's the local police chief, right?"
"Yeah. Blake Jacobsen, former-Marine, two kids. His little girl adores you." Shawna informed her.
Krystel laughed. "You could give her a set of dance-wear from your new signature line as a present."
"You have a line?" Shawna asked in surprise.
Lyssa rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I signed the papers yesterday. Too good of a deal to pass up. Quality is top-grade. Repetto is doing it. They're in Paris and I already wear their designs anyway."
"That's cool though." Shawna commented then looked serious. "Wait. What does that mean for you though?"
Lyssa sighed. "I'm coming out of the field. Unless it's hardcore, Tiffany is up. This is choice, mine."
Shawna sat back. "Wow. Never thought I'd hear you say that. I mean, not unless you really got worked."
"The twins are getting to the stage that they need me more, personally. I'm not fully done, but it's a good idea for Tiffany to take over more operations. She's been ready, time for her to take the lead." Lyssa said without reservation.
"Oh. Hey, where's the fun-bunch?" Shawna asked.
Kimberly answered. "Fort Belvoire. The kids are taking tests for school and the adults are shopping in D.C. minus Bobby and Hunter. They're with the girls. Mindy is in Freeport, at school."
"Freeport?" Shawna asked.
"Kasey and Kristine are finished with actual school. They're taking the tests for their diplomas. Mindy is safe to go to a real school now. She needs to socialize." Kimberly said.
Shawna nodded. "Yeah. She does. Kasey and Kristine going off on missions leaves her alone. She does need to be with kids her own age. Is she ok?"
"She's getting straight-A's and made the girls' soccer team. We even enrolled her at a ballet studio there. She loves it, but still enjoys lessons with Maria or Lyssa every morning before school." Kimberly said proudly.
Shawna smiled. "I'm glad. She deserves a normal childhood. Or at least, as close as can be."
"She's happy. That's the best we can hope for." Lyssa said.
Shawna sighed. "Yeah. Well, that's all for me. Unless you have something?"
Kimberly checked then shook her head. "No. Other than flight time, you're clear until the Major gives you something."
"I'll get some Saturday. I need to log some rotor time. The Major got a seized Bell for me. I'll take the kids for a ride while I log time. Out." Shawna said.
Kimberly nodded. "Out."
The conference closed and Shawna went for a fresh coffee. The rest of the week went routine; Friday on the range at Andrews and Saturday she logged flight time with the helicopter. Danny and Nicky enjoyed the ride.
Chapter 4
Sunday was Christmas eve. After the kids finally went to sleep, Shawna opened the hidden door for under the stairs and brought the presents out with Blake. The basement was in two sections and the main access was a door in the hallway between the kitchen and living room. A smaller access was under the stairs, but that was concealed and locked as the section held weapons and other mission supplies. Not even Blake knew that was there.
They sat in front of the fireplace for a little while afterward.
"Shawna, do you want to use a surrogate to have a child of your own?" Blake asked.
Shawna didn't hesitate. "Nope. I didn't even bother with saving anything to do that."
Blake looked surprised. "You didn't? Why not?"
"Both my parents had congenital conditions. I carry it. I won't suffer from it, but I would pass it on. They both died young. Dad, while I was in high school. Mom went five years later, while I was in the service. I beat the bullet, but only slightly. I'll gamble with my own life, but never somebody that can't choose on their own. No kids from me. I'm more than happy to help you finish raising yours, that's enough for me." Shawna said with no sadness at all, it was the actual truth.
Shortly thereafter, they went to bed. Several hours later, Shawna awoke, to hear footsteps going down the stairs and smiled.
"Kids are up." Shawna said.
Blake groaned. "Already?"
Shawna laughed gently. "You think they'd sleep in today?"
"WOW!" Could be heard downstairs.
Shawna laughed as Blake grunted. "No way in Hell."
They both got up, Shawna put on a satin robe over her gown while Blake simply pulled on lounge pants and t-shirt. They went downstairs to find Danny and Nicky already separating the presents into piles. The kids then tore into the gifts. Both were thrilled while the holiday haul. After all the gifts were unwrapped, Shawna beckoned Nicky over and held up a slim, square gift.
Nicky unwrapped it and saw a blank DVD in a clear case. "What is it?"
"Something very special. On Christmas eve, in Moscow, there is a one-time production of The Nutcracker. Only the very elite can go. The tickets are extremely expensive and only the best perform." Shawna told her.
Nicky looked at the disc. "Wow! How'd you get it? Who danced?"
"I have a friend. As a favor to me, I got this. You're going to be VERY surprised." Shawna smiled.
Nicky held it out. "Can we watch it now?"
"Breakfast first, ballet after." Shawna answered.
Nicky pouted. "Ok."
After breakfast Nicky loaded the DVD and sat between Blake and Shawna. When the Sugar Plum Fairy appeared, it took a couple of minutes then Nicky pointed to the television.
"THAT'S TIFFANY! SHE'S NEW!" Nicky exclaimed.
Shawna chuckled. "Her name is Tiffany Davareaux. They call her 'Cold Shadow' Tiffany. She's been training at Bolshoi."
Nicky grabbed the remote, backed the video to the start of her dance then sat on the floor to watch closely.
"So this is something really hard to get?" Blake asked quietly.
Shawna nodded. "Five grand per ticket. This was a BIG favor. Only twenty people outside Moscow have seen this. Not even the U.S. Ambassador went to the theater."
Nicky clapped and pointed. "KATYA!"
"You made her really happy." Blake commented.
After it ended, Nicky was still smiling. "That was so great! I just wish I could have seen Lyssa dance the Nutcracker."
"She didn't perform this year. Maybe next year she will." Shawna answered.
Nicky sighed. "She had babies so that cuts down her shows. It's probably hard to travel with babies."
"True. I'm sure you'll get to see her dance though." Shawna encouraged.
Shawna's cellphone rang and she laughed at the display number then answered.
" Hello there, super-star. Your ears must have been burning." Shawna greeted in Russian.
Tiffany asked. "You must have just got through watching it."
"Yes, we did. It was fantastic." Shawna complimented.
Blake looked over. "Your source in Moscow?"
Shawna nodded, putting the phone on speaker and beckoned Nicky then held out the phone. "Nicky, say 'thank you'."
"Thank you for the video!" Nicky repeated.
A feminine voice came back. "You're very welcome Nicky. My first time dancing the Sugar Plum Fairy, but not my last!"
Nicky's jaw dropped and she looked at Shawna in pure shock. "Th-that's Tiffany? Really, really her?"
Tiffany affirmed. "That's right. What did you think of it?"
Nicky gushed her praise for what seemed like several minutes until she ran out of breath.
"Glad you enjoyed it. Shawna, you owe me BIG. Merry Christmas!" Tiffany signed off.
Blake asked. "So just how do you know her?"
"Met a couple of years back. We talked a bit." Shawna said airily.
The rest of the holiday week went quietly. New Year's Eve they all sat along the waterfront with most of the town to watch the fireworks. Blake and Shawna kissed as the first shell lit up the sky at the stroke of midnight.
The Chrysalis Project Book 9: Iron Dolphin Book 3 pt1
The last time Krystel and Tammy were together, London was exciting. Now it's Tammy's turn to travel WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Preceding installment:
Tamara's Tales Shakespear Takes a Break
'What does Krystel have in store for me?' had been Tammy's question.
"To learn, the secret to life." Krystel replied with a smile.
Tammy looked at her confusion. "What?"
Krystel had spotted Tammy coming from Baggage Claim and smiled as she waved her over. Tammy was surprised, Krystel had taken her passport and handed it back a second later with stamps and directed her out of the terminal. A taxi took them over to a hotel called Bell Channel Inn.
"Pink?" Tammy asked when they got out of the cab.
Krystel winked. "Welcome to the Caribbean."
At the desk, Tammy checked in. She only needed to fill-out the registration and have the main page of her passport photocopied.
"There you are Miss Smart and enjoy your stay." The desk-clerk said.
Krystel picked up Tammy's suitcase. "Let's go."
Tammy turned to follow and was immediately confused. Krystel was leading her out, not up.
Outside Krystel led the way to the parking lot and stopped at a new model Jeep Grand Cherokee.
"Kerri, er, Krystel; where are we going?" Tammy asked.
Krystel set Tammy's suitcase in the back. "Oh, you're just registered here. You'll be staying with us. Hop in."
Tammy climbed into the passenger seat. Krystel backed out then drove away.
"Freeport is a hub. We stay on a private island. It's not far away by helo." Krystel explained as she drove. "Oh, we have to make one quick stop though."
A few minutes later the jeep pulled in at a school. A cluster of girls waited out front and one broke away when Krystel honked.
"Hi Aunt Kryssie." The young teen greeted as she climbed into the backseat then asked. "Are you the Scottish girl, Tammy?"
"Yes, I am." Tammy replied.
The girl smiled back. "I'm Mindy."
Krystel drove away. "What's the word?"
"Got in trouble." Mindy pouted.
Krystel smirked in the rearview mirror. "Yeah? What'd you do?"
Mindy sighed. "FUBAR is not an acceptable assessment of a classmate's grade average."
Tammy snorted and Krystel laughed.
"I had to spend Break writing lines on the board." Mindy complained.
Krystel shook her head. "They let you off easy. Guess who won't."
"Mama and Daddy." Mindy groaned then snapped up. "NO! Don't tell uncle Carl, PLEASE!"
"Forget it kiddo. You're nailed and everybody gets their shot." Krystel stated.
Tammy looked back and asked. "How bad will it be?"
"Mama'll make me clean the house to inspection. Daddy'll make me wash the Bell. Uncle Eddie'll make me degrease some engines. Uncle Carl won't let me go sailing. Uncle Rodrick will have me search around the coves for an anchor and bring it up. Aunt Lyssa'll work me in her studio or I have to babysit the twins." Mindy listed.
Krystel prompted. "And me?"
"No Princessland for a week." Mindy groused.
"Princessland?" Tammy asked.
Mindy explained. "Princessland is an online world. I talk to girls all over the world in it. No going into it is how aunt Kryssie grounds me."
"I see." Tammy said, understanding now.
Krystel drove into a hangar and parked. Mindy bailed out, with her backpack. Tammy followed suit and followed Krystel, who retrieved her suitcase. They all walked out and stopped. A helicopter was descending in front of them. The rotors slowed and stopped. A groundman drove over with a tractor pulling a trailer with a tank on it. It was marked for fuel and began refueling the helicopter.
Tammy pointed to the pilot, wearing a full flight-suit and helmet with the visor down. "Isn't he a bit over-dressed."
"Daddy always wears that." Mindy commented. "You'll get used it."
"Darth Vader-guy." Tammy remarked, mostly to herself.
Mindy giggled. "Everybody calls him that, a lot."
Krystel arched an eyebrow. "Something get your attention?"
Tammy asked. "Didn't he turn over the Epic to the ferry-pilot?"
"Yeah. He did." Krystel chuckled. "She describe him?"
Tammy nodded. "Darth Vader-guy, she called him."
The pilot waved them out, Mindy streaked toward the helicopter while Krystel and Tammy walked casually. After take-off, Tammy heard the pilot.
"Take the controls." The pilot said to Mindy.
Mindy answered. "I have the controls."
Tammy couldn't resist and looked out the window. There was no denying it, the view was beautiful. From altitude, she was looking down on scattered patches of paradise. Fewer and fewer island were coming into view. Then the helicopter began to descend.
"Tower, RamAir on approach." The pilot called out.
"Copy, RamAir. Clear for final approach."
An island came into view and Tammy immediately spotted a long runway and hangars.
"Is this an actual base?" Tammy asked.
Krystel wagged her hand. "More or less. There's a lot we can do here."
The helicopter landed and man came out. The wheels were chocked and they disembarked. Tammy followed Krystel into the middle, and largest, hangar. They were met by a strawberry blonde woman coming down a set of stairs. Tammy glanced around, there were two other helicopters she was familiar with. The shocker was an actual gunship and some kind of fighter jet towards the back of the hangar.
"Hi Tammy. I'm Kimberly Lando." Kim introduced herself and offered her hand.
Tammy shook hands. "Pleased to meet you, Tamara Smart. You wouldn't happen to be; the Kimberly that sent me a text about the registration?"
"That was me, just call me Kim. Sorry about the confusion, a miscommunication. Come to the conference room and we'll go over the schedule." Kim said and led the way.
Tammy walked in and looked around. "Is this all about me?"
Krystel nodded and pointed to a chair. "That's right. Have a seat and we'll go over it."
Tammy took the seat and gave the two women her attention.
"Now. We sent you an itinerary. In truth, you actually will learn those. You'll be learning other things as well. When you leave here, you'll have some literature and discs in support of the executive courses." Kim stated.
Tammy asked. "Just out of curiosity, is there really an Elegant Executive service?"
"Oh sure. We own it. There actually is a seminar going on right now, for 12 women. It's mixed in with a vacation package so they get a full two weeks. They just won't be out here and some of your activities will be way different." Krystel smirked.
Tammy looked at the large white dry-erase board and listened. The way they had things scheduled almost down to the minute, it seemed this wasn't the first time they had done something like this.
"I'm surprised all this was put together in so short of time. Will I get any sleep?" Tammy asked.
Krystel laughed. "Oh you'll get sleep. It just won't seem like enough. This is pretty much Saturation Training. You're a sponge and we have a pitcher of liquid. We pour and pour until you can't absorb anymore."
"I see. I get the impression you all have done this before." Tammy remarked.
Kim nodded. "We have, but you're getting a seriously abridged course. You won't be going into jungles and deserts, for example. Let's make this clear Tammy. We're not expecting you to go on Assault Operations. To give you a clue, you will be a listening post. You'll perform tasks such as investigations and surveillance. That's the bulk of what you do for us."
"So, I really will be a spy?" Tammy surmised.
Krystel nodded. "Yeah Tammy. You got into kill or be killed situations and you did what you needed to, but it doesn't sit well with you. The higher-up's aren't any help. Too many think a uniform and firm command have an affect. Doesn't work that way. There are times when bullets, blades are the only option. Not always, but those times are there."
Kim tapped the file in her hand. "You have inside knowledge about finance, nice. You need other skills too. We'll help with that. You are set up in a way. Realty. You can use property interests as your way in. You also have banking connections, that will provide other ways in. You also picked up piloting, that is another way."
"Learning the diving skills are also another way to be where I can be useful." Tammy guessed.
Krystel tch-ed at her. "Wrong useful, Tammy. The most critical party you need to be useful to; is yourself. Remember how I said Wade didn't see your business as important?"
"Yes." Tammy replied. "You said that it is."
Kim nodded. "And she's right. It is critical. It gives you a life with purpose that is easily explained. I won't lie to you. One day that purpose will change. You won't be able to provide help. When that day comes; and it WILL come, you will be able to go on. You will be able to go on, your way."
Tammy got it now. She wouldn't be disposable. Expendable. There would be light at the end of the tunnel, light not from an oncoming train.
"Alright. I like this idea. How do I go about it? All this, will help me get there?" Tammy asked and pointed to the schedule on the board.
Kim sat down beside her. "Yes. Think of this; as a collection of tickets at the beginning of a new road. With these passes, you will get through the checkpoints and toll booths along the way."
"I see. I believe I understand it now. So, when do we start?" Tammy asked.
Kim got up and tapped the board. "First thing in the morning. That said, there are a couple of things to be aware of."
"First thing; that's not a pet." Kim said and pointed toward the door.
Tammy looked and saw a black dog standing there.
Kim looked at the dog. "Warlock. Trete zurück."
The dog sat, ears up and forward.
"I take it, he is a some type of service dog?" Tammy guessed.
"Warlock is a tactical dog. Anti-personnel and anti-ordinance. Even if you speak his language, he won't obey you. If you encounter him, freeze. Let him investigate you and when he's satisfied, he'll move on. There are residences here, respect their privacy. Enter under permission. South of the runway is a range. A red flag means the range is live. When the runway is in use, an announcement will be made. Anything else comes up, you'll be told. That's the safety briefing. Welcome to Ram's Rock Island." Kim said and smiled.
Another command was given and the dog approached Tammy and gave her a thorough sniffing. Satisfied, he wandered out.
Krystel snerked. "Now he knows who you are. He'll check you out randomly. But if he growls, leave the area you're in."
"That wraps it up. You'll be staying with Krystel. The rest of the evening, is yours." Kim said and went out.
Krystel stood up. "Come on, let's get you settled in and then get ready for dinner."
"For the love of God; what have I gotten into?" Tammy groaned in the shower.
Krystel woke her at five in the morning and handed her a clutch of clothing. High cut shorts, racer top and cross-trainer shoes. Tammy soon found herself on a bicycle riding laps of the runway and trying to keep up. After the ride Tammy followed Krystel on running laps then popped the shoes off and dove into the oncoming surf. Tammy had no idea how far Krystel had her swim. All she knew was that Krystel had been alongside her the entire time and as Tammy stumbled from the surf; revealed Tammy had biked five miles, ran four and swam two.
"Not bad for day One. Now for a shower and breakfast, then we get started." Krystel said, walking confidently, but looked over. "You might consider shaving some more. You're going to be in the water more than just for PT."
Tammy did just that. Taking more time in the shower than usual. After she dried her hair, she looked out of the spare bedroom and glanced to see what her friend wore. A simple flare-skirt and sleeveless shell, with sandals that had a heel to them. Tammy dug through her clothes and found a casual dress and sandals then dressed. After breakfast, they left for the main hangar.
"Morning." Kimberly greeted, clipboard in hand.
Tammy returned the greeting. "Good morning."
"Not regretting your visit already, are you?" Kim smirked.
Krystel laughed as she poured a cup of coffee. "She only thinks she is! Help yourself, Tammy."
Tammy poured her own, sipped it and looked at them both like traitors as she choked it down. "What IS this?"
"If it's sludge, Rodrick made it. Crunchy would be Carl. Strong enough to pull your guts inside out, Lonestar. If it melts the cup, Eddie made it and what we can't drink, he uses as a degreaser." Kim remarked then sipped. "This is a second run, so no idea. To the conference room, let's get to it."
Tammy followed them into the conference room. Within minutes, Tammy was being shown examples of raw intelligence and the easiest ways to find it. After that, ways to exploit that type of intel to gather more in-depth. This was deemed 'Working Intel'.
"Working Intelligence is information that leads you to bigger and more important things. Actionable Intelligence is exactly that. Information that can be used to take Action." Kim explained.
This lead to another half hour of lecture with diagrams, including how to prepare a briefing packet. Kim excused herself for a few minutes while Tammy studied the material.
"Kim, What is RUMINT? Er...Kim?" Tammy asked then saw she was alone, until she looked lower. "Hello, dog."
The Tactical dog sat looking at Tammy, but didn't respond to her voice. Kimberly walked in a moment later.
"Something wrong?" Kim asked.
Tammy nodded to the dog. "I looked over and instead of you, I saw him."
"Oh. He was waiting for me." Kim said then looked to the dog. "Warlock. Suche. Gehen."
The dog immediately bolted from the room with a growl. A phone rang also.
Kim picked up a cordless handset off the table and headed for the door. "Excuse me, I have to take this. Would you mind picking up the bomb for me, Warlock will show it to you. RamAir Charters."
"Sure. Wait. Did you say 'bomb'?" Tammy sputtered then heard the dog barking aggressively in the hangar and rushed to go after him.
She found the dog crouched under the nose of an amphibious plane and barking at the nose-gear. Tammy crawled under and looked around then found a bundle of two blocks marked Semtex. There didn't seem to be anything else, just the explosive. No timer counting down or other electronics she assumed it should have. The dog continued to bark adamantly.
Tammy looked at him. "Okay, okay! I see it, but can I just grab it?"
A voice yelled out. "Hey! Just get it off there. He'll shut up then!"
Tammy pulled on the bundle and it simply came away. The dog woofed then walked off. Tammy crawled out from under the plane and went back to the conference room. At the table she looked at the bundle. It seemed to only be two packages of explosives. She had been focused and startled when a cup was set in front of her.
"Hey there." A rather tanned blonde haired man said then pointed to the bundle. "Checking out the mutt's toy?"
"Toy? I thought it was a bomb." Tammy said.
The man shook his head. "Not really. The explosives are real, but that's all it is. He smells that, not the other bomb stuff, so we don't bother. It's what he does. So you're Tammy."
Tammy eyed him. "Does everybody know who I am?"
"Yeah. We're all teaching you something. I'm Carl. I'll teach you sailing and probably oversee your diving." Carl said.
Tammy asked. "Are you the one who sent me the diving equipment?"
Carl nodded. "Yeah. Better me than Mindy, everything would be pink or purple if she had a say in it. Mares is a good line and very popular. You can get it serviced anywhere pretty much."
Krystel came in with good news, it was time for lunch. It consisted of salads with shrimp, but no wine. She discovered why, right after. Tammy found herself in a colorful dive-suit, with rebreather, and wading into oncoming surf. Krystel and Carl wanted to get a feel for Tammy's previous dive training. Tammy did have to admit, diving in these tropical waters was quite pleasant, compared to the cold waters back home. She was amazed at the fish and other sea creatures. When their gauges edged to the mark, Krystel signaled her to return to the beach. Just as the first warning caught her attention, they breached surface.
"That was great!" Tammy said as soon as she pulled the respirator from her mouth.
Krystel smiled. "Liked it?"
"I will admit, I'm jealous you have such beautiful water to dive in. You would have to drag me out." Tammy laughed.
They went over to the hangar and rinsed off themselves and their gear. Tammy learned fast how to maintain and store the gear. Krystel and Carl showed ways that were quick and methodical, yet very thorough. Carl had dove as well and brought in a bag of lively contributions to dinner. Mindy was back from school by then. She checked over Carl's catch then selected one of the lobsters and immediately began chasing after Tammy with it, making snarky jokes about it.
"WAIT TAMMY! YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN, IT'S NOT PERSONAL YOU WANT IT FOR DINNER! IT'S TOTALLY CLICKED OFF!" Mindy giggled.
Tammy dodged and ran the other way. "Now's not the situation for SNAPPY remarks!"
After the bit of play, Mindy tossed the lobster back to Carl and ran off to go home.
Tammy had to shake her head. This place was nothing like she had imagined. It was both serious and fun. That was when she stopped.
"Ut-oh." Krystel said.
Carl leaned back against the water tank. "Somebody havin' an epiphany?"
"None of this is like I thought. I worried that I'd either be bored to death or miserable." Tammy admitted.
Carl shook his head. "I'm leaving this to a superior officer. Lieutenant Commander; she's ALL yours, Ma'am."
Carl went off with his bag, leaving Tammy and Krystel alone.
"Did he just call you a Lieutenant Commander? As in, Naval Officer?" Tammy asked.
"Yes Tammy. I'm not actually in the Navy anymore, but yes, my rank is Lieutenant Commander. My primary is CyberOps and secondary is FieldOps. Let's take a walk." Krystel said.
"I grew up low-middle income. Not religious, not mainline conservative, but close-minded family. Pretty much the only thing I ever did they approved of, was leave. I didn't play sports, so they couldn't brag about me like the other parents. I was a damn good student. I made honor roll and got into computer science. My grades and computer studies earned a scholarship, so I went to college. I wanted to serve. I believe in freedom. Did then, still do now. When I graduated, I joined the Navy with a commission. Not bad for me. The problems happened while I was in college." Krystel told her.
Tammy didn't pay much attention to where they walked, it was along beach, which was pleasant.
Krystel went on. "During college I had a degree of freedom I'd never had before. I indulged it. I got a part-time job that provided me with money and I spent it. On an apartment, clothes, make-up, shoes, getting my ears pierced. The works. Finally I got up the courage to go out. So I did. Had a blast too. There were plenty of places I could go to and be anonymous, so I enjoyed myself. Right before summer break, a friend of mine wrote me a letter. A kid in my high school came out, as gay. Everybody went off the deep end."
Tammy watched their feet making prints in the sand. "Your parents jumped aboard the wagon?"
"Hell no, girl. Those fucks led the charge to run him out of town. Worked too. He left after getting beaten pretty bad. What we call 'a life-altering ass-beating'." Krystel said.
"So what did you do?" Tammy asked.
Krystel laughed. "Broke the law. I was already a hacker by the time I hit high school. Now that I was in college, I was much more skilled. Took me all of an hour to find everybody in on it and another two to get into the bank. By morning, my apocalypse was done. Everybody was broke, in debt, credit shot to fuck all and most bills overdue. I felt GLORIOUS in my vengeance!"
Tammy was enthralled now. "Did it work? Were you able to get away with it?"
"Of course, and yes. Well, mostly yes. Turned out, I wasn't the only one moving around cyberspace that night. My preparations caught somebody else's attention. They watched me and were impressed. The next afternoon, I was called for a meeting in the computer lab. It took all of two minutes for me to know what was up, and another three to agree to training. Within thirty minutes, I was on a summer course. That was my checkpoint: Zulu. No return. I had talent and it could be cultivated. That started my journey down that electronic rabbit hole straight to Cyber-warfare. I only glanced back once. A letter 'home'. I wrote of disgust, outrage and told them they would never see or hear from me again." Krystel said.
"Krystel, how deep do rabbit-holes go?" Tammy asked.
"Oh, that's the question if there ever was one. No two are the same. As for me; I've neither hit bottom, nor fell out the other end. Only I'm not falling, I'm diving. I'll go as far as I can. I want to." Krystel said proudly.
Tammy looked over. "And you're happy?"
"Happy? Girl, I've done things the kids I grew up with never dreamed about in their wildest imagination! I've stormed Cartel compounds in the jungle, chased smugglers across the desert, wore a five-grand designer gown in Milan, played cards and won against an Arabian Prince, swam under an ice covered Russian harbor and had a fire-fight in a coffee shop! I've even jumped from twenty-nine thousand feet to land on the top of a ship as the lead element of an Assault group to take it over. Piracy on the high seas took on a whole NEW dimension on that one! Hard to imagine how it can get any better." Krystel laughed.
Tammy thought on it then asked. "Love? Do you have someone?"
"I have dates, but nobody full-time. I go to Freeport, Key West and Miami. A night, a weekend. Whatever I want. There's always guys that don't have a problem with that. It works for me, I'm not ready to settle down in marriage and have kids. I may never be. If that changes, I know where to look." Krystel smirked.
"Oh." Tammy replied then remembered a couple of comments that didn't make sense. "Wait. Something doesn't set right. You said, in college you spent money on clothes and so on. Also that your family weren't kind to a boy that came out as gay. Krystel, please tell me two plus two..."
"Equals four, not twenty-two. I wasn't born anatomically female, but I wanted to be. This." Krystel said and swept her hands to mean herself. "Part of the recruitment package. Nice perk, huh?"
Tammy gawked. "You're transgender too?"
Krystel laughed. "You started earlier in life than me, but I went more radical than you. Not all of it was easy. I had more work done than you, but I get this, so it's not all bad. Come on, we need to get some dinner."
After dinner, Krystel handed Tammy several pages.
"What is this?" Tammy asked.
Krystel tapped it. "Diet program. It's the one we use after transition. It's how we maintain ourselves."
Tammy read and could't believe it. Some were simple and others were elaborate. Some were even gourmet.
"This does not look anything like some kind of diet." Tammy remarked.
Krystel sat back. "It's not supposed to. You have to actually look into the nutritional values to see it. You can achieve, without appearing to be working. The world of Intel is a world of smoke and mirrors. Make all around you believe what you need them to. You're not a spy. You're not an operative. You work for yourself. You ARE a businesswoman."
"That can dive, fly planes and shoot guns." Tammy snarked.
Krystel smirked at her. "And parachute."
"Oh god, I'm going to learn that too, here?" Tammy asked.
Krystel smiled. "Even if she has to toss your Scottish-Lass ass off the ramp herself, you'll learn to jump. You might even like it."
"She? Who do you mean 'she'?" Tammy asked.
Krystel giggled. "Oh, you'll meet her tomorrow. She'll be teaching you wardrobe and styling too. Just like she taught me."
"So, you went through more of a program than I did." Tammy surmised.
Krystel sipped from her glass. "Two years. Transition and training all at the same time. All Go, no stop. Intense, but it was part of what got me where I am."
Tammy helped with the dishes then went off to relax. Soon enough she was in bed and asleep.
Morning came, and with it was the grueling exercise. It was obvious Krystel added to it. After her shower she dressed similarly to the day before. Tammy began to worry. The weather was warmer than she had thought and her clothes weren't as lightweight as she needed.
"Krystel. I think I have a wardrobe issue." Tammy said during breakfast.
Krystel nodded. "Running out of clothes?"
"My shopping was limited." Tammy admitted.
Krystel waved her off. "We thought that might come up. You'll get squared-away today. You're fine for now."
They finished breakfast, cleaned up and headed out. Tammy was puzzled when Krystel turned away from the hangars. The answer came minutes later when a large house came into view. Krystel stopped at the door and pointed.
"Go on in. You're expected." Krystel said then turned to go. "Enjoy your time with her."
Tammy wondered why Krystel had smiled, but knocked anyway. No answer came, but Tammy let herself in.
"Krystel did say I was expected." Tammy said as she went in.
The oddest sight struck her when she entered the living room. Two toddlers were on a carpet and the black tactical dog was laying down, his mouth open and shaking his head side to side as the children tried to grab at his snout.
"I thought he was dangerous." Tammy remarked.
"Warlock is." A voice said behind her.
Tammy turned and her jaw immediately hit the floor. "YOU?"
"Hi. I'm Lyssa." Lyssa said then smiled. "How about we keep this informal. You don't have to call me MiLady."
"MiLady? Really?" Tammy asked then looked to where Lyssa pointed and saw a shield on the wall, below it a framed document. "This is a Royal Order! Wait. Why is it Black? This can't be real."
"By His Royal Highness, Prince Henry Charles Albert David, under the authority of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth Alexandra Mary; I am Lady Lyssa Kordenay-Mason. Yes, that is VERY real. Myself, my husband, Kim, Pete, Lonestar, Carl and Eddie were knighted. We have the favour of the Crown." Lyssa smirked. "We're THAT damned good."
Tammy looked over. "Does Sean know?"
Lyssa laughed. "Of course. I'm the reason he met you. I told Krystel where to find him. I taught her, now I teach you. Ready to learn? It's time to play Barbie, little Scottish girl."
When Lyssa pointed past her, Tammy turned to look and saw a rack of clothes and shoes. She knew it didn't require a degree to know they were all in her size. A heartbeat later, she was naked and being dressed. For the next four hours, she put on outfits and applied make-up. Tammy learned business looks that screamed 'corporate hatchet-woman' all the way to 'does she work for a high-echelon escort service'. Then they switched to casuals; dresses, skirt-sets, shorts-sets, pants, jeans, leggings. All with best coordinating tops, blouses and sweaters. Finally came formals and semi-formal wear. Tammy was confused when Lyssa gave her a set of luggage to pack it all away in. The luggage was designer, by Coach.
When Tammy finished, Lyssa smirked. "Now you have appropriate apparel here. We'll send it to you by FedEx after you leave. Time for lunch."
Tammy tried to pay attention, but Lyssa was a whirlwind in the kitchen and had the meal ready in only half an hour. Tammy almost couldn't contain herself, it smelled so appetizing. It was some kind of glazed chicken breast with a wild rice and mixed vegetables. Tammy shook her head and somehow managed to hold in her laughter during the meal. Lyssa was able to slip in bites for herself while feeding the twins. They shifted back and forth from cooperative to combative. After they finished, Lyssa cleaned them off and set them back down to play. Miraculously, there was nothing on her white blouse or pink skirt.
Lyssa noticed the glance over. "Oh, they only go ballistic when you wear dry-clean-only around them. If you can throw it in the washer, they don't care."
"That's funny!" Tammy laughed then turned serious. "May I ask a personal question?"
Lyssa leaned her hip against the back of the couch. "You can ask. Getting an answer is another matter."
"I assume you've been in this secret world a long time? How have you been able to do it; keep the two lives separate?" Tammy asked.
"That's the big question, isn't it? Well, I've been in black-ops almost all my adult life. I just went from one unit to another. Finally, I couldn't go any further. A man showed up and made me an offer. I could go on. But I wanted to go a different path. I became a woman of mystery. I came from nowhere and maintained shadows around me, even when I stood in the spotlight. You never got that chance. You were dangled in the public eye and kept there for all to see. I danced, cat-walked and posed for all to see. When the lights went out; I stalked the darkness invisible to all." Lyssa explained.
Tammy thought about that. Yes, even she had heard of Lyssa Kordenay. The Prima and model. She couldn't believe there was so much more. Like an iceberg, the visible part was pretty, but the unseen was dangerous.
Lyssa shook her head. "Tammy, things went way out of hand with you. It's not your fault. Bureaucrats will always make excuses to marginalize costs. Most have never had to undertake risks themselves. Pay attention, because this pertains to you. Under this flag, you won't be treated like that. All of us, every single one, has faced the same and greater risks than you. I've faced the worst there is. I did it alone, Tammy. I did it for more reasons than I can explain. I can say this. The greatest thing I ever did; was for freedom, justice and safe conduct. That sounds idealistic. Maybe even romantic, but you'd be wrong to think so. You will never be truly alone from now on. We take care of our own. You are one of our own now, Tamara Smart. Today's lesson is over, on your way. The luggage will be sent over later."
Tammy took that as an order. An order to be immediately carried out. She had never met someone who could be charming and frightening at the same time. The really odd part, was that she felt reassured too. How could she do all that? At the hangar, Tammy's eyes popped out.
"GOOD CHRIST, KRYSTEL, YOU'RE TOOLED UP!" Tammy exclaimed at the sight of her friend in a one-piece black suit and weapons rig.
Krystel laughed and tossed a bag to her. "Catch. Change in there, it's fun time."
Tammy went into the same room they used to change into the wetsuits. In the bag was an outfit almost identical to Krystel's. A pair of knee-high boots were included. Tammy put it all on and came out.
"Not bad." A man's muffled voice commented, passing behind her.
Tammy turned and saw the pilot in full flight gear, Lonestar. "Thank you."
Tammy joined Krystel and had a harness strapped on her. Straps going over each shoulder, belt around her waist and holsters strapped to each thigh. Krystel held up a pistol, locked open. The slide slid forward and it was stuck into the right holster, a second pistol went into the left. Magazines were put into plastic holders around her waist. Twenty magazines in total, then two into her hand.
Tammy looked at her. "Are we about to storm a third-world country?"
"Nope. Just the range." Krystel said and picked up a green metal box. "Let's go."
Krystel let Tammy warm up with five magazines each then let her watch as she went through the Killhouse. Tammy was sent through. She was much slower and nowhere near as accurate. Krystel sent her through six more times, changing the layout and target positions each time. Tammy knew it was supposed to be serious, yet it seemed fun, running through a building and shooting make-believe bad guys. Finally she was spent. Her legs were tired and her hands were strained.
"You do this all the time?" Tammy asked Krystel.
Krystel nodded. "Twice a week. You do mean just pistols, right?"
"You do more?" Tammy asked in shock.
"Yeah. Two days each; pistols, assault rifles and sub-guns. Some days are just going in, some are jumps and some are amphibious. Train to insane, crazy becomes do-able in combat." Krystel smirked.
Tammy shook her head. "Insane is right."
"Well, the fun's over. Let's clean up and go see about dinner." Krystel said.
Tammy was surprised when Krystel brought out a vacuum and used it to collect up all the spent casings then emptied it into a bucket. They went back to the hangar and changed then went to Krystel's cottage. Tammy made dinner using the diet program. She slept well that night.
The next morning was Day Three and started as the other two had. Exercise, shower and breakfast. Tammy had been told to wear jeans and a tank t-shirt with the knee-high boots. Today her morning instructor was the man they called Eddie. He showed her an engine and told her it was the same engine for the Epic. He spent a lot of time going over it, common problems and their solutions. He also showed her pictures of more serious problems and how to deal with them.
"I hear you have a two-seater. CzechSport. Over here is a similar engine." Eddie said and began teaching about it as well.
Tammy was surprised at how easily some things could be repaired. On a whim, she asked what items she should have in a toolkit for her planes. He handed her two printed pages.
"You were going to give these to me anyway, weren't you?" Tammy asked.
Eddie chuckled. "Yeah, but living up to that last name of yours; you asked. You have not wasted this time. Go get chow. You'll meet your Dive-Boss when you get back. Prepare to suffer, kid."
After lunch with Krystel, Tammy changed into a bikini and went back to the hangar. A rather fit man was standing in the conference room wearing a wet-suit, the top half down but had on a t-shirt.
"Afternoon Tammy. I'm Rodrick Mason, your Dive-instructor. You enjoyed my wife's company yesterday." Rodrick greeted her.
Tammy returned the greeting. "Afternoon, MiLord."
Rodrick smirked at her. "Oh. Smart, as in smart-ass."
"I'm afraid I couldn't resist." Tammy replied.
Rodrick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get in here. You've got a lot to learn and not a whole lot of time to do it."
Tammy went in and sat down.
"I don't know the man that gave you the initial dive-training personally, but his rep isn't bad. You need some skills he wasn't able to get around to. This is a crash-course. I'll be teaching you how to inspect watercraft, structures and perform surveys underwater. These skills you can use for more than one reason. Yes, you can use it for the projects we have and for Sean. You can also use it for your business. Let's get to it."
Tammy sat and paid close attention to narration of images on the large monitor. What to look for, where to look and why they would be there. After an hour and a half she was sent to suit up. Rodrick took her out in the cove and they dove. She went under the hulls of three boats then to a pier and boathouse to inspect the pilings and so on. Using Dive-slates and hand-signals, Tammy and Rodrick communicated back and forth. Rodrick also had waterproof flashcards to explain in-depth of the things she needed to pay close attention to.
The gauges on the rebreathers began to alert them, so Rodrick led her out into the cove then taught her how to switch units without surfacing. She almost choked on the mouthful of seawater so Rodrick had her repeat clearing the mouth-piece to learn how to do so without choking on the water. Finally Tammy gave him a thumb's-up and he returned it with a pat on her shoulder.
Tammy spent the limit of the rebreather learning to survey and make a diagram on a larger Dive-slate. After that, she learned to come ashore in a low-observable manner. Amphibious-incursion. She left everything on the cove's sandy floor; except mask, snorkel, fins and slates. He even made her sneak into the hangar to put the slates on the conference table.
"Not bad for a first time." Kim said, walking in.
Tammy watched as a video of her coming ashore began to play. Kim pointed out certain things Tammy overlooked. It was critical, but constructive.
"Is there time for me to do it again?" Tammy asked.
Kim nodded. "Sure. You can go back out in the water using just the snorkel. Start where you left the gear and come back ashore."
"Hit the water." Rodrick said with encouragement.
Tammy went back out and followed Rodrick to the gear-drop point. She dove down and touched the gear then headed toward the surface. She had an idea and rode the inside of a wave to wash ashore. Laying in the surf she shed the rest of the gear and broke from the water-line to rush over to some vegetation. From there she tried to move low and fast, looking around for any type of cameras. She smiled when she spotted one, then another. Tammy made it to the hangar and slipped inside.
Kim stood there, smiling. "Tammy Smart, you did really good. You only showed up on seven cameras instead of all eighteen. You pass this exercise and we hope you never need to do it operationally. Hit the shower, your day is done."
"Go ahead. Carl is collecting the gear. You did good." Rodrick nodded.
Tammy went to the shower and rinsed off then did so without the wetsuit. Despite it being difficult training, she was enjoying it. She left the bikini on and decided to walk along the beach. She found a cottage and the little girl Mindy was sitting on the porch at a table with books open.
"Must be doing homework." Tammy guessed and moved on.
A large house was next, but she didn't go to investigate, just moved on. On the far end of the island was some kind of training course, looking like gymnastic equipment. She walked further around and found Lyssa and Rodrick's house. Lyssa was outside, sitting on the grass playing with her children. Tammy smiled and continued further. She found a trail that went inward, so she followed it. Two cottages were in a large clearing, she couldn't see anyone in or around them. Though curious of who owned them, she reminded herself to respect their privacy. She saw two other paths and she chose the far one.
She reached the end of the path and laughed.
"Doctor Livingstone I presume?" Tammy called out to Krystel.
Krystel was standing on her porch and laughed. "Why, of course, Miss Stanley!"
Tammy went in and changed into shorts and t-shirt. Once again, Krystel had her make dinner from the program. Afterward, they sat on her porch and relaxed.
Krystel sipped her wine. "Well Tammy, what's the verdict on the trip so far?"
"I'm being run ragged, for certain. But for some masochistic reason, I'm enjoying it." Tammy chuckled.
Krystel smiled. "Good. No reason not to find the good times when you can. If you can have a good time, you'll learn better."
"Is that where I've been wrong?" Tammy asked.
Krystel shook her head. "You aren't military. You don't have the same drive and motivation your previous instructors dealt with. They're accustomed to those with the 'failure is not an option' mentality. You went in with the 'what am I in now' state of mind. Or so it seemed."
"I'm afraid I can't argue that. May I ask a question off-topic?" Tammy asked.
Krystel shrugged. "Sure."
"There are other houses here. May I ask who they belong to?" Tammy asked.
"One belongs to Kim, Lonestar and Mindy. The other big house belongs to another family, but they aren't here right now. Only their housekeeper. You know Rodrick and Lyssa's house already. The other two houses belong to other members of the unit. One that stays on deployment and another in the states. The one in the states is married and adopted her husband's two kids. Pete, Eddie and Carl have quarters set up in the hangars." Krystel listed.
The sun had set so they adjourned for the night.
Tammy woke at the first beep of the alarm clock. She dressed in the workout clothes and went out to meet Krystel on the runway.
"You work out more than me, don't you?" Tammy asked.
Krystel nodded. "Nothing personal, you just aren't up to our levels. If you continue on after leaving, you'll get there. Let's get to it. We got business."
Tammy put her all into it and felt oddly satisfied walking back to Krystel's cottage. The dress-code for the morning was skirt, an off-shoulder top and pumps. Apparently it was indoor lessons for the morning. Her instructor was Kim again. Her lesson plan was all office administration. Some things Tammy knew, others were new information. Some could help and others wouldn't apply to estate agencies. Realty as Kim called it. Mostly, Kim spent time teaching her how to organize better. Kim also taught her how to keep one electronic side safely apart from the other. Even phone and computer procedures and protocols so Tammy could communicate relatively in the open to the island, yet still maintain security.
"So with this phone, there are two levels. One normal and one for covert communications?" Tammy asked.
Kim nodded. "That's right. It uses cell towers primarily, but you can switch to satellite if you need to. The satellite phone in the pack you were sent will now be a back up. If you have to, you can delete settings and destroy it."
"I've always wanted to ask; where did all that come from?" Tammy asked.
Kim sat back in her chair. "The pistol, ammo, computer and phone we acquired from a British operative that went rogue. Everything else could be ordered off Amazon and was. Oh. The ballistic vest was made by us. We used you purchase history to determine the size. Speaking of sizing, come with me."
Kim led Tammy to a room at the back of the hangar. Inside Tammy was told to strip and step into a booth.
"Okay. Stand with your feet apart more. Good now hold your arms out a little more. Good. Close your eyes and don't move." Kim said and began typing on a laptop. Moments later she said. "All done. You can get dressed now."
Tammy put her clothes back on. "What was that? Some kind of scanner?"
"Yeah. It measured you. The suit you wore for the range, doesn't fit. You'll get one that does. The boots are fine, we get them off the shelf and modify for our use." Kim said.
Tammy had the impression there was more to the suit than looks. "Is the suit bullet-proof?"
Kim gave her a sly smile. "Bullet-resistant, Tammy. Nothing is bullet-proof. You get a level five ballistic rating. It also will protect you from slashes and stabbing."
Tammy's eyes went wide. "Are you serious? It can do all that?"
"And more. It disrupts your infra-red signature to a degree. It won't make you invisible, just slightly confusing to sensors. Pay attention, your life depends on this. You can survive seven point six-two rounds and pistol rounds up to forty-five caliber. You'll get a welt or a bruise, but you'll live. Concussive force will hurt you, stay back from explosions. Grenade fragments won't penetrate from a distance. The closer you are, the higher the risk, always take cover. The collar is flexible, not rigid. You can be strangled. The suit increases survivability, it doesn't make you invulnerable." Kim explained then fixed her with a stern look. "Do you understand all of this?"
Tammy felt the urge to stand at attention and did. "Yes M'am."
"Forgetting that can end you. I don't think I have to tell you twice, do I?" Kim asked.
"No, M'am." Tammy replied.
Kim nodded. "Good. Let's get lunch now. You are going to have some fun-learning this afternoon. Bikini required and you report to the dock."
After Lunch with Kim, Tammy rushed to change into a bikini, choosing a purple set and went down to the dock. Carl waved to her from a sailboat.
"Time to learn how to sail!" Carl called out.
Tammy smiled and all but jumped aboard. Fun-learning indeed. Carl taught her how to sail the boat. It was quite fun, but all too soon, they were back at the dock and switching to a large motor boat.
"This is called a Cabin-cruiser. It seems big and it is, but one person can handle it. Now, cast-off. Single up all lines and we'll get underway." Carl said.
Tammy cast off and pulled in the mooring lines as he directed then ran up to the flying bridge. Under Carl's instruction, she piloted the small yacht out. She learned how to use the electronics to make a course, check water depth and even find other objects on the surface. It was very easy to learn how to pilot it.
"Carl. Is there a loo onboard?" Tammy asked.
Carl looked confused. "A what?"
"A bathroom." Tammy laughed.
Carl shook his head. "You're on a boat. They're called a Head. Yeah, down below."
Tammy went down then inside and began looking around. "Wow. A person could live on this boat."
She did find the Head and did her business. She explored a bit more after, finding a small bunk room, kitchen along with a small dinette set.
Back on the flying bridge Tammy said to Carl. "Someone could live on a boat like this, can't they?"
"Sure they can. You could live on the sailboat too, but it's not as friendly for females." Carl answered. "Some boats like this even have dive-lockers. We could even make it all the way to Key West with this boat."
Tammy took the controls when he indicated and changed course to head back. At the dock she tied up then followed him down to a sleek and powerful looking boat.
"Is this a racing boat?" Tammy asked.
Carl smiled. "Yep. This is a cigarette-class, off-shore racing. They're also called go-fast-boats. Smugglers use them too. Cast off and jump in."
Tammy untied the lines, tossed them onto the boat and jumped aboard. Carl started the engines and they roared. Tammy had to put on a set of headphones with microphone.
"Get over to the seat and buckle up. Take the throttles." Carl told her. "For racing a boat like this, you have the wheelman and the throttleman. Take us up to half."
Tammy pushed the levers forward halfway and the boat leaped forward with a roar, pinning her to the seat. Carl took sweeping turns, making the boat bank hard then straightened out.
"Take it to Full." Carl said.
The throttles were rammed forward and the boat began launching over waves as it rocketed out to sea. Tammy yelled out and had a smile a mile wide. This learning was really fun.
"We're going about seventy!" Carl had to yell over the headset. "If we had calmer sea, we could get up to hundred or more! Havin' fun yet?"
Tammy said back. "DEFINITELY!"
"Throttle down and idle." Carl said.
Tammy pulled back on the levers and the boat slowed down and floated.
Carl unbuckled his seat-belt and took off the headset. "Your turn."
"I get to drive?!" Tammy asked then unbuckled and changed seats.
They both buckled up and put on the headsets.
"Okay. That way! All ahead, Full!" Carl said and rammed the throttles forward.
Tammy squealed, held the wheel tight and turned to the direction Carl had said. They raced about while Tammy learned the features of the boat then returned to the cove. Tammy listened carefully and was able to dock the powerboat. Her legs felt weak as she climbed out onto the dock.
"Gone all mush on me?" Carl quipped.
Tammy sat down. "That was the greatest! Thank you for teaching me how to sail!"
"CARL! You took MY boat out?" Rodrick bellowed from the end of the dock.
Carl snapped to Attention. "AYE, SKIPPER!"
Rodrick strode up and eyed him intensely then looked down to Tammy. "Did you learn anything?"
"Did I ever!" Tammy said, smiling.
Rodrick's eyes narrowed. "I take it, you had FUN?"
Tammy giggled. "I bloody well did!"
"Good. The day is done and done well. That'll be all." Rodrick said then threw her a smirk and left.
When Tammy could stand up, she went back to Krystel's and joined her for dinner. Later she fell asleep and looked forward to the next day's lessons.
****TBC in part 2***
The Chrysalis Project Book 10: Iron Dolphin Book 4
The last time Krystel and Tammy were together, London was exciting. Now it's Tammy's turn to travel WARNING: The Chrysalis Project may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
"Getting easier to get up and at it." Krystel remarked.
Tammy mounted the bike. "I'm surprised, myself."
They pushed off and rode the length of the runway several times. Tammy counted the laps and stopped at seven. They dismounted and began running, five miles. Shoes were removed and they charged into the incoming surf, diving over breakers. Tammy was relieved when Krystel led back to the beach. Tammy body-surfed the breakers and crawled the beach.
"How far?" Tammy panted. "I know you increased the distance again."
Krystel chuckled. "Three and a half. You're hanging tough, Tammy. This is a good thing. Where's the Huzzah?"
"Huzzah." Tammy groaned then laughed.
Krystel rolled her eyes. "Yay, and shit. Let's go shower and get chow."
After showering, Tammy put on the borrowed one-piece uniform and boots again then joined Krystel for breakfast. Tammy still couldn't believe the diet program was so easily disguised. She frowned at her plate.
"Problem?" Krystel asked.
Tammy sipped her juice then answered. "This diet program. You are serious about it working?"
Krystel nodded. "It does, but there's a catch. Exercise is essential, neglect PT and you'll gain weight. Your intake is slightly higher than what you burn. Now by doing that, you don't accumulate fat. Instead you burn it off. You're doing massive cardio. You're not building muscle, you're toning. Giving yourself a sleeker shape, get it? You get and maintain curves, but realistic. In short you look hot in most things, but you don't draw crowds of guys drooling behind you."
Tammy laughed. "I guess that would be a problem if I was trying to keep a low profile!"
"The bike gets your system up and going. Running strengthens your legs and core while giving you endurance. Swimming works all your muscles. Yum, not buff." Krystel explained with a wink.
"Yum?" Tammy laughed and finished her plate. "My friend, I sometimes think you have gone around the bend."
Krystel arched an eyebrow. "Sometimes?"
"The rest of the time, I know you have and wonder how long before I go too!" Tammy laughed more.
Krystel got up from the table. "Train to insane, Tammy, and crazy becomes do-able. Head for the range."
"I'm off then." Tammy said and did so.
Minutes later Tammy met yet another large man. "Good morning."
"Mornin' Tammy. I'm Pete." Pete introduced himself.
Tammy nodded. "Right, Pete. What am I learning this morning?"
"Rifles. Long-range. Sniper basics. You'll carry a shot a minimum of seven hundred and fifty meters by the end of this range session. Let's get to it." Pete said and opened several cases.
"M40A7. The Marines use these. Based on the Remington 700. It's chambered for match-grade rounds. Three-thirty-eight Lapau. Next is Barrett's MRAD, chambered for three-thirty-eight Norma." Pete pointed them out.
Tammy looked up. "They are different? They sound the same."
"The difference is subtle. Norma rounds are slightly shorter than Lapua. Both are magnum rounds. The Norma is taking the place of Lapua. Better quality. Even after all this time, Lapua rounds are temperamental. Norma rounds are more reliable." Pete explained then pointed to the next rifle. "Barrett M107. This is a fifty cal rifle."
Tammy looked at it. "Oh dear. I may not know much, but I do know what that means. Why are there two?"
"Same rifle, different caliber. This one is chambered for four-sixteen Barrett. Several other rifles use it. Barrett makes the rounds and a rifle. Ultra-reliable." Pete said then pointed to the last rifle. "You can see this one, but you won't be shooting it. It's custom. It fires a twenty-three millimeter sabot round."
Tammy gawked at the sound of that. "Wait. What?"
"We call it the anti-matter rifle. She says it's because those rounds are depleted uranium. Everybody else says it's because you can knock the fuckin' starship enterprise out of orbit with it." Pete shook his head. "You have to use a tripod to shoot the damn thing. No joke, the round can go three-thousand meters and obliterate just about anything it hits. Two or three rounds, the target and even the building they were hiding in; gone."
"Jesus Christ. That's taking overkill to the obnoxious." Tammy remarked.
Pete nodded. "Yep. I won't even lie. It's nuts, but comes in pretty effective against seriously fortified hard-sites. You can shoot the others though. We'll start with the four-sixteen. Grab it and let's go."
Tammy took the rifle and magazines then went over to the firing position. In minutes she hit the center of a five hundred meter target then adjust for the next. Pete had her shoot forty rounds, walking her out to finally hit the one-thousand meter target.
"Congrats. You just made a Kilo-shot." Pete patted her shoulder.
Tammy smiled. "Wow. I did it!"
Pete smirked. "Now do ten more."
Tammy turned back to the scope and slowly sighted. Ten rounds went into the target. They hit in the center ring, but the group was loose. Pete declared her a Pass though. Tammy then switched rifles. The Marine rifle then the MRAD. The recoil felt the same, but the flight path and impact showed actual difference. The Norma rounds flew straighter and faster than the Lapua rounds. She liked the MRAD with Norma rounds more. It felt more comfortable. Finally came the Fifty. Tammy didn't like that rifle. The recoil was severe. Thankfully she was using the bipod to steady it, but she would feel it for the rest of the day and knew it.
When she hit the center ring twice at eight hundred meters Pete shut her down. "Okay. You're good. That's a Pass."
"Really?" Tammy asked.
Pete nodded. "Yeah. I'd keep you at it, but you need your arms for later. We'll police up the brass and you can go clean up. Dress for a garden lunch and go to Lyssa and Rodrick's house."
"Frock and stilts." Tammy surmised.
Tammy and Pete collected all the casings and put them in separate containers then she hurried back to the cottage to shower and change. Tammy found it a challenge to go from Krystel's cottage directly to Lyssa's house wearing the very high heels, but she arrived without any accidents. After knocking, she entered.
"Afternoon." Lyssa greeted her from the kitchen.
Tammy smiled. "Good afternoon. Where are the children?"
"Too quiet?" Lyssa laughed. "It's a Daddy-day. Rodrick has office work so he has them with him. You've probably acquired proper manner and decorum. This will likely be just a review and refresh for you."
"I'll certainly do my best." Tammy said.
Lyssa gave a slight smile. "So. When was the last time you visited Paris?"
"Paris?" Tammy asked.
Lyssa gave her a devilish grin. "I thought you might like something French. I had this after walking a Givenchy show."
"I must ask. Do models really not eat before a show and go crazy after?" Tammy asked.
Lyssa nodded. "More than I care to mention. I don't. All the unspoken rules don't apply to me. They all know I dance and have to have an actual body or I'd have to be scraped off the stage between acts. The way it works for me most of the time; they pick me to wear certain designs. The rest of the time, they just check the numbers to short list then make adjustment to fit the model. This is ready."
"It smells wonderful." Tammy said.
Lyssa looked over. "Thank you. The range is now Live. The table has four place settings. As you know the plan of the meal, determine which setting is correct."
Tammy walked over to the table and circled it, examining each place. She stopped and went back to the third.
"This setting is correct for the courses." Tammy announced confidently.
Lyssa nodded. "Very good. Now which of the five wines?"
Tammy went over to the counter and looked at the labels and picked up one. "The Sauvigon Blanc. The soup is light, the salad has no meat or dairy and an oil-vinegar based dressing. The entree is poultry with rice and crisped vegetables, lightly sauteed. The dessert is shortcake and fruit with cream. The Sauvigon Blanc is a match to each course. Though I've never heard of this one before. Is it an American Vineyard?"
"Yes. Alpha Omega has several vineyards in California. I think you'll like it." Lyssa said then removed the incorrect settings and brought over the correct one for herself.
As they ate, Tammy found herself in conversation that had no actual theme. One moment they were discussing wines, the next moment the subject was dresses and a moment later, jewelry stores in Venice. Tammy was trying very hard to keep up with the swift changes. During dessert, of a shortcake cup filled with berries and topped with rich cream, Tammy's brain locked up and she found herself staring at Lyssa in confusion.
"Wondering when it was we shifted into French?" Lyssa asked in French.
Tammy frowned. "I just now noticed."
Lyssa smirked. "The second bite of dessert."
Tammy looked down, no more than four or five delicate bites remained of her own. "That long?"
"Small talk can be a weapon. You can use it, it can be used against you. Nine sentences of a seemingly random theme and one targeted question, shift subjects and repeat. Tammy; you told me about your biological mother, where you hid your clothes in school and that your neighbor's butler can be trusted with your weapons. You're also still angry at your step-sister for poaching your last boyfriend and a girl named Tanya is a backstabber in serious need of a reality slap. That's a lot of information." Lyssa said and set her fork aside.
Tammy closed her eyes and groaned. "Bloody Hell, and I just gave it over, didn't I?"
"Your mentality needs to change Tammy. Don't think 'what is a weapon and what is not', but rather 'what can I use as a weapon and how'?" Lyssa explained. "So said; you're still blown away by Krystel using a spoon in a fire-fight. Right?"
"Yes. It sounds so ludicrous, but I saw it happen." Tammy agreed.
Lyssa gave a fixed look. "You can kill more people with a pistol; using a bottle cap, stick of gum and a spool of dental floss, than you can with two grenades."
"That's.." Tammy said, but turned to hear a tapping sound to the right then swung back to see Lyssa's finger an inch from her forehead. "Uh."
Lyssa said flatly. "Bang. Notify next of kin."
"Bottle cap, chewing gum, dental floss; dead Tammy." Tammy recited.
Lyssa nodded. "Underlying message?"
Tammy chose her words carefully. "Distraction is deadly."
"Very good. The key is to make the distraction appropriate for the setting. A spoon clanging in a coffee shop, a soft noise in a quiet room. Let's say you were in an alley; two small rocks in an empty drink can tipping over. They look there and you pop up behind them." Lyssa explained.
Tammy thought about that and it suddenly hit her. "I think I have it! Let's see if I can say this to theme; an oops. They think I have an accident, which draws their attention. The subtle noise is more effective than something very big, it seems natural. Is that it?"
Lyssa grinned and clapped. "Bravo. You now move on to another weapon. Up, follow me."
Tammy stood up and followed Lyssa to another room. At a glance she knew it was a dance studio.
"This weapon is called dance. You will learn to waltz. You will learn to Viennese waltz." Lyssa stated then began the music.
First Tammy learned the basic movements to both styles, then the real lessons began. Lyssa taught her how to question while dancing and read facial expressions along with other body cues to determine bluffs, evasion, distorted recollection, truth and outright lies.
"I meant to ask Kim, but something came up. What is RUMINT?" Tammy asked while sipping from a water.
Lyssa nodded. "Rumor Intelligence. Gossip. Scuttlebutt. Talk-about-town."
"Really? That's what it is called?" Tammy asked.
"Yes. Pay attention; the biggest threat against you is rumors and gossip. Remember Tanya? Prime example. Who else comes to mind?" Lyssa asked.
Tammy groaned. "Helen. Oh Hell, almost the whole town! That's me, buggered and back."
Lyssa held up her hand. "Calm down. Take a breath. All is not lost. You're here for a reason."
Tammy took a deep breath then another. "Right. Calm. What am I to do?"
"Good girl. The bunch originally in charge of you; screwed you. You were an Asset. You're learning to become an operative. The only time you become bait on the hook, is when it's to YOUR advantage. You've already begun damage control. When you go home, you'll constantly do more. Damage control and deniability will become an everyday protocol, understand?" Lyssa gave her a serious look.
"Everyday?" Tammy asked in surprise.
Lyssa sipped her water. "Before you even leave the house in the morning. You'll look like the businesswoman you are when you go to work, the student you are when you go to classes, a well-kempt socialite all other times. You run a schedule; where, when, who and what. Everything on full display. No more pretending or managing. You will become and remove all doubt."
"I believe I understand." Tammy said.
Lyssa gave her a hard look. "Oh believe girl. You WILL get your collective shit together. That's why you're here. When you leave, nobody will doubt what you did. You can even recommend if you think they can afford it. They get the actual seminar and have fun while learning. You're getting a concentrated version of it because of all the additional curriculum. Ready?"
Tammy nodded. "What's next."
And so, Tammy's social graces and espionage lessons continued until Four in the afternoon. She was told to go directly to the main hangar to catch a flight with Krystel. She was surprised to see some of the luggage in the helicopter and put on the headset.
"Are we staying somewhere?" Tammy asked.
Krystel answered. "Freeport for the weekend. Part training, part cover. This is when you actually stay at Bell Channel."
The helo took off with Lonestar at the controls. They landed at the airport's helipad and loaded in to the Jeep gain. Krystel drove to Bell Channel and they took their rooms. Dinner that night was in the hotel's dining room. Tammy proposed her meal choice to Krystel and received approval.
Morning came and Tammy woke at the first beep of the alarm clock. She was dressed to exercise and walking out the door at Six. Krystel met her and together they went downstairs. They both wore sport bikinis with shorts type bottoms and ran down the street. Three miles of running brought the pair to a beach. Shoes and socks were stashed in a rental locker and they headed for the water. A reference point was indicated before wading out to the breakers. When they returned to shore at the same point they had entered, Tammy knew the swim had been farther than before. Krystel took their things from the locker and soon they were running again, back to the hotel.
In the parking lot Tammy wanted to collapse, but managed to stay upright. "That was just evil. I know we ran and swam further than usual."
"Of course. No bikes, so we adjust. This weekend you learn how to maintain yourself when away." Krystel told her then said more quietly. "Also for your cover. You'll do some tourist stuff. And a bank visit."
Tammy showered, dressed in a summer dress and sandals then met Krystel downstairs in the dining room. For breakfast Tammy chose a Western omelet and Toast with coffee and juice. There were many women in the dining room sharing tables and chatting happily. Tammy listened to some of the conversation at the three tables closest to them and heard the diners introducing themselves by name, country and profession.
"Krystel. Are these women here for the seminar?" Tammy asked quietly.
Krystel nodded with a sly smile. "That's right. They got in yesterday and start Monday. For today and tomorrow they get to have fun. Get it out of the way so they can be relaxed and ready to receive new knowledge. We'll join their group this afternoon."
After breakfast, Krystel and Tammy slipped away from the women eager to enjoy the island's amenities and attractions. They arrived with minutes to spare at GlobalTrust Bank and Finance. Thirty minutes later, Tammy had four accounts, two credit cards on order and wallet heavy with cash.
"Dare I ask; where the four million dollars came from exactly?" Tammy asked as they walked away from the international bank.
Krystel smirked. "Drug cartels, terrorist groups, rogue agents and criminal factions. Not to worry, they have no use for it anymore. This is part of the 'you get more help' we told you about."
Tammy shook her head. "Rabbit-holes and big leagues are understatements."
"Now, now. No going crazy. You have access, but we control the accounts. You get paid out of those accounts two ways. Half goes to your real account in Scotland and half goes into that third account here. The fourth account is your exit-account. Part of your Reno Protocol. The Major will go over that with you later." Krystel explained.
"Reno? Isn't that a city?" Tammy asked.
"Yeah, but not relevant. Reno Protocol is what we call emergency exit plans. It's what we do when all has gone FUBAR." Krystel said then gave her an intense look. "No mistake girl, shit gets real if we have to use that."
Tammy stopped. "How bad. I mean really, how bad?"
"When the government decides it better to give us up to enemies to protect their own wrong-doing. Yes, Tammy, it can happen. It has happened to others. We protect ourselves from it. You're one of 'ourselves' now. We'll protect you. The days of wingin' it, muddling through and praying you come out; those are over. "
They met back up with part of the seminar group and merged. Tammy wanted to laugh as the group leader was using the App for the style group to teach the group how to find female-specific amenities according to country and city. They were also encouraged to pay more attention to local vendors instead of the easier to find souvenir shops.
Out of curiosity Tammy examined a souvenir that was obviously mass-produced and wanted to growl.
"Made in Malaysia? Seriously Krystel?" Tammy hissed quietly.
Krystel laughed. "And he wants thirty bucks for it too. Enrique has no shame."
"Hey. A man has to make an honest living." An older well tanned man said.
Krystel nudged Tammy. "Wonder how he reconciles his prices and being a serious church-going man."
Enrique crossed himself. "Scripture; they are but strangers and I take them in."
Tammy rolled her eyes. "That can't be right."
Krystel and Tammy left the shop and wandered down the street.
"So that is the cliche tourist trap?" Tammy asked.
Krystel nodded. "That and more. Enrique wasn't always Enrique and definitely not a local. Back in the 90's he worked as an accountant for a certain group out of Peru. He was an honest man and only cared about numbers. The problem came from a member of said group started monkeying around with money. Unfortunately, Enrique got left holding the empty bag. He wasn't a complete fool and contacted an American agency. He gave them everything he had and they gave him a way out and a new life. He really does sell the stuff, but he also informs to the American Embassy about foreigners of note."
"Like me?" Tammy asked.
"Like Cartels and smugglers. See that building over there. The one with the blue shutters and trim?" Krystel asked.
Tammy looked and saw a sign. "That is a bank too?"
"Real subtle. Look back to Enrique's shop. The closest corner of the roof." Krystel said.
Tammy shifted to look along the eaves and saw a camera. "I see the camera. It's pointing to the entrance to the bank. I get it. He watches the bank. They are the kind that are, shall we say; non-discriminatory?"
"Oh, they're dirty. All the way. They keep enough legit customers to stay open. Tourist traps can have more than one function. They can gather intel. If he was asked, he would say the seminar group came through and how many were American and how many were other. Cash, credit, traveler-checks. He won't though. It's a legit business and it's known who owns it. Actually, you're the first time we've used it to train somebody." Krystel explained.
"There is so much to absorb." Tammy remarked.
Krystel nodded. "There's the world around you and the world around you. Even though they sometimes look the same, they aren't."
Tammy frowned. "So what do I do?"
"See the world Tammy. See the world and understand not all is as it seems. Just like you. You are not all as you seem." Krystel said.
Tammy nodded. "Right."
Several times they rejoined the group, Tammy was encouraged to insert herself in group selfies as well as take solo ones when apart. In a small gallery she picked up a watercolor seascape to send to her father, a framed starfish collection for Angela, shell necklace and earrings set for Joan. Closer to a marina she found a man with a truck selling seashells and liked a large pink one for Cathy. Apparently he was a diver and collected them personally, therefore he wouldn't haggle. Krystel gave a subtle nod that his price was reasonable. Tammy handed over the money and was surprised to see him carefully pack the shell into a box with shredded paper.
Tammy took stock of her purchases. "Dad, Mum, Angela and Cathy. I guess I should get something for Suzie. And Joey, too."
"Just don't get them a t-shirt that says 'my friend went to the Bahamas and all I got was a t-shirt'." Krystel snarked.
Tammy laughed. "They might take umbridge if I did that!"
She found the right choices in a shop near the Hotel. A model lighthouse for Joey and piece of art made from various colored glass to look like an underwater scene for Suzie. At the hotel, she was able to box the gifts and ship the home. For dinner that night Tammy had to dress in evening-wear. During dessert Krystel informed her that Lyssa and Rodrick owned the restaurant and they were sitting at their personal table.
The next morning started similarly and they quickly separated from the group. The morning lesson plan consisted of surveillance techniques until lunch. After lunch Tammy learned the flip-side, counter-surveillance then improvising readily available items to assist in both aspects. Dinner was early and casual with instructions to sleep fast. The instruction was understood when the phone rang at three in morning.
"Grab everything, be in the hall in ten minutes." Krystel said.
Tammy rushed to both wake up and prepare, just barely being in time. Quietly she was led down the backstairs and to Krystel's jeep. At a marina Krystel stopped. Leaving everything in the jeep they went down to the end of a dock. Krystel pulled up a dry bag attached to a rope. Inside was gear for the both of them. Hanging underneath the dock were two rebreather units.
In the water she felt uncomfortable due to the darkness. The lights strapped to their wrists were dim. Krystel led her to inspect several boats and the dock below the waterline then further out into the bay. They swapped the rebreathers for twin tanks and swam further out until light began to filter through the water. A glance at her watch told her it was now after Five in the morning. A boat came into view and Krystel indicated to approach it.
On the side away from shore Krystel climbed up a ladder to board the sailboat and Tammy followed.
On the deck Tammy pulled her regulator. "Isn't this your boat?"
"Yep. Prepare to set sail. Take us back to the island." Krystel said.
It took her a while, but Tammy eventually plotted their course. The anchor was raised then sails unfurled and the boat lurched with the wind to head on course. After a few minutes, Krystel took the helm and Tammy changed from wetsuit to a bikini. Five hours later they saw the island in the distance.
Tammy couldn't resist the impulse and shouted. "LAND HO!"
"RAM'S ROCK, DEAD AHEAD!" Krystel added
Soon they docked and unloaded everything. Carl had sailed the boat in to Freeport and prepped the gear before they arrived at the marina, then used a motor raft to transport their luggage to the boat. He went back to the island with Lonestar when he flew Mindy in for school.
"Welcome back." Kim greeted them in the main hangar and handed Krystel a clipboard.
Krystel read the clipboard. "Thanks. We got everything done, she passed."
"I even enjoyed it." Tammy commented.
Kim nodded. "Good, that means it'll stick. You get the rest of the day for yourself, Tammy. Get in some beach time, you need to look like you've been getting out."
"Ah. I could do with a bit of colour. I'll just take my things back to the cottage and collect some bits." Tammy replied then asked. "What is my schedule tomorrow?"
"Glad you asked." Kim answered. "Tomorrow you finally start jump training."
Tammy gulped. "Jump training? For real?"
Both nodded and Krystel smirked. "The first one is easy. It's the second one that's always the problem."
That night, the only reason Tammy was able to sleep was due to being so tired.
After waking and the usual exercise and breakfast, Tammy found herself in the main hangar facing Lyssa. Lyssa wore the similar looking black one-piece uniform and boots Tammy did, but Tammy now wore one made for herself. It was a little stiff from being new. Videos were played which Lyssa narrated instructions then they moved out to the open floor. They laid down on wheeled boards to move around as if in freefall. After lunch, Tammy found herself in the belly of a C-130 taking off.
"Relax Tammy. This first jump is a static. You walk off the ramp and the chute is opened for you, just relax and enjoy the view." Lyssa told her.
Tammy nodded nervously; hoping lunch, breakfast and everything else she'd eaten her whole life wouldn't come back up. Finally she heard the announcement and stood up. Lyssa showed her how to hook up then did so herself. The ramp lowered as a red light came on and they walked slowly to the end of the ramp.
Lyssa pointed out instead of down. "Nothing but clear blue sky Tammy. This is the only way you ever get to see it so perfectly. Ready? I'm right with you. Here we go! One, two. THREE!"
Tammy stepped off the ramp, felt swept away then a hard yank and time seemed to stop. The loud plane faded as did buffeting winds to only flapping and fluttering sounds.
"You did it!" Lyssa called out over the radio.
"I guess I did!" Tammy called back then looked down. "OH GOD, WHY DID I DO THAT?"
Krystel's voice replied. "Looking good. Tammy, you have to look down or you'll land on something you don't want to."
"What if I lose my meals?" Tammy asked.
Krystel laughed. "Do what birds do. Aim for somebody you don't like."
Tammy couldn't help laughing at that. Soon she was touching down and remembered to keep her feet together, collapse and roll out. Krystel helped her gather the chute. Together they walked back to the hangar.
"Well, that's the first. The first of many. Now we get serious." Krystel told her.
Minutes later, Tammy wore a different chute and walked back onto the C-130. Krystel, Lyssa and Rodrick were with her. Now it was time to freefall. Six times they went up in the plane and came down by parachute.
Tammy collapsed to sit on the sand and waved her hand to Krystel. "No more, please. I'm knackered and m' legs are jelly."
Krystel plopped down as well. "You did good."
"Congratulations. You can successfully freefall from sixteen thousand feet. You get a Pass on your jump training." Lyssa said, standing over her.
Tammy groaned. "Thank God!"
When she recovered enough to stand, Tammy went to the hangar and learned how to pack parachutes, starting with her own. She gawked to learn it was and had a coordinating windsuit. Kim informed her they would be shipped with her luggage. That night Tammy slept more soundly than she ever had in at least two years.
Day Ten started slow but Tammy found her gears out on the runway as she rode with Krystel and got herself to speed. The morning lessons were Kim, learning body and facial language then how to disguise interrogating with interviews for business purposes. Until lunch she learned what civilian means were available to conduct background checks. After lunch, Tammy learned about suffering. Krystel taught her techniques of kickboxing, called Muay Thai. For further punishment, Jui Jitsu techniques were also taught. Thankfully only temporary red marks resulted and would fade by the time she left.
The morning lesson for Day Eleven found Tammy back on the range. Rodrick had her training with submachine guns. Mainly she learned using the Heckler & Koch UMP and MP-5. She also fired an Uzi and Ingram Mac-10, both in 9mm. Rodrick had her go through the Killhouse with each to really get the feel of their temperaments before rating her a Pass. Tammy then had to hurry to clean up and dress for lunch and afternoon with Lyssa again. Those lessons were all about casual social settings and ended with dinner with her and Rodrick.
After dessert Tammy commented. "I feel like I've made it over a hill of some sort."
"You did. Jump training was the crest. We're winding down now." Lyssa told her.
Tammy perked up. "I am almost done?"
Rodrick nodded. "Tomorrow is a half-day. You're training ended today. Tomorrow you spend the morning with Paul. After lunch you get to play. Carl will give you some surfing lessons and take pictures."
"You lot certainly ran me ragged, but now that I look back, I had a good time." Tammy admitted.
Lyssa smiled in approval. "We gave you a lot, but you took it in stride. Be proud of yourself. We crammed a six week course into two."
"Will I ever need to come back?" Tammy asked.
"You'll come back once a year or so for a week, updates and so on." Lyssa explained. "But you'll see us before that. We'll be on Man for the race. You can hang out in our area."
Tammy looked over to Rodrick. "You are going to race?"
"Nope." Lyssa said then smiled. "I am."
Tammy sat stunned then shook her head. "I forgot, insanity is the norm here."
"You'll acclimate." Rodrick dead-panned. "Now, head back to Krystel's. The kids and dog are asleep so we're having sex on the table in the next forty-five seconds."
Tammy bolted from the table and tried not to laugh hearing Lyssa drawl. "Hell yeah."
The next morning after the usual routine, Tammy dressed for a meeting. She also grabbed the bottle of single malt Scotch and went to the main hangar.
The man she knew as Major Paul Dannigan greeted her. "Morning."
"Good morning, Sir." Tammy replied then held out to bottle. "For you."
Dannigan chuckled. "Nice. Grab a coffee and come with me."
Tammy poured herself a coffee then followed into the conference room and sat down.
"I've read over your training reports. Well done. You took it seriously and it shows. Unfortunately what we do today won't be so exciting, but it is critical." Dannigan said then handed her a binder.
Dannigan began. "Your main purpose with us will be intelligence gathering. Monitoring personnel of interest that enter, operate and exit your AO, area of operation. That area is the coastal area and islands; Caithness and Orkneys. You will remain based in Thurso."
"Yes, Sir." Tammy acknowledged.
"I want no misunderstandings. Do not reveal sensitive British materials you become privy to. If we need something, we'll obtain it ourselves. If you develop intel for us that the British need to be read in on, we'll instruct as to who and how. This is about cooperation within boundaries, you are NOT a double-agent. Am I clear?" Dannigan asked firmly.
Tammy nodded. "Absolutely, Sir. I had no idea there was such people that work for separate governments."
Dannigan sat back in his chair. "It does occur, but usually they act as liaisons. Like the officer exchange programs in the military. Official channels, everybody knows and it's all in the open. You're a quiet version of this, limited people know."
For the next hour Dannigan went through the binder with her. Tammy quickly understood there was a separation between American and British interests, her real purpose would be when those interests coincided. She still had a discreet attachment to the Broadsword group, but would only interact with Sean MacTaggart.
Dannigan hooked a thumb towards the door as Kim and Krystel stood in the doorway. "For us, you interact with Kimberly and Krystel. It will be rare to be direct with me."
"I think I understand." Tammy said.
Dannigan leaned back in his chair and looked at her intently. "In movies and tv, this is where I make some kind of demand to prove loyalty."
Tammy nodded. "I've seen those."
"Yeah. Me too. We don't work that way. You were given a choice and you made it." Dannigan said.
Tammy tilted her head in puzzlement. "I'm not with you, Sir."
Kim spoke up. "How many times did you jump out of a perfectly good aircraft?"
"Seven, I believe." Tammy answered.
Dannigan leaned forward. "And how many of those parachutes did you pack personally?"
Tammy answered without hesitation. "None."
"So you walked off the ramp on your own, with seven chutes that you did not pack or inspect, chosen at random from a group." Dannigan pointed out.
Tammy now understood. "I see your point now. I put my faith forward and met with success."
"Welcome; to the Office of Immediate Covert Action, Tamara Smart." Dannigan said.
"A member of the club now. Do I get a cliche code-name?" Tammy asked.
Dannigan handed her a file and tapped it.
"Maighdeann Cluaran." Tammy read and translated with a smile. "Thistle Maiden. Very nice, Sir. Thank you."
Dannigan gave her a small grin. "You're welcome. Code-names are for projects. Personnel have Operational Designators. Usually they're random, like code-names, but I can chose them if not used already. I though that would be appropriate for you."
"I am surprised though. I thought you would have a team of shrinks have a go at me." Tammy admitted.
Dannigan gave her a bland look. "You've been under constant evaluation since you arrived. Everyone who taught you gave reports for each session."
"Reports?" Tammy asked.
Kim nodded and set down a stack of files. "We weren't just training you Tammy. We were also determining your abilities and limits."
"Example. Do you, Tammy, have the mental stability to kill? The answer is 'yes', but within parameters. You are not a liquidation specialist. You can shoot, yes, but unless it's you or them; you fail to justify the necessity. I can't send you a gun and say 'go put two bullets in Joe Snuffy's skull'. This doesn't make you unfit for work, just that you have limits. Everyone has limits and your's aren't a problem. If you couldn't at least defend yourself, THAT would be a problem. There's what you can do, what you can't, what you shouldn't and most importantly; what you have no business doing. We know these things." Dannigan explained.
Krystel commented. "Pegs and holes come in more than just round and square Tammy-girl."
"It is our determination that you are suited to intelligence gathering. We're not dropping you into combat zones. In fact, we'd prefer you not be in lethal outcome situations. You may end up in them, but in the interest of protection of yourself or innocent by-standers." Kim stated.
"All this does makes sense to me." Tammy remarked.
Dannigan sat forward and pulled four large envelopes over. "Good. Now, you gave us some trust and I'm going to justify that, right now. Tammy we have something called 'Reno Protocols'."
"Krystel mentioned that." Tammy said. "Basically, it sounded like an escape plan if things take the piss."
"I'll spell it out. Should you be Burned, by accident or intention, you have a chance to save yourself. You have four protocols, the main focus of three of them are to get to Switzerland. From there we can extract you and relocate you to a new life in a secure location." Dannigan said then opened the first and gave it to her.
Identity papers, credit cards and other personal litter were on top. Her method would be to use the Epic to fly directly to Switzerland, land at a private airfield, discard all former identity and abandon the plane. Using the new identity, travel to Geneva to an apartment and await retrieval.
The second started out similar, but deviated with method. A small file detailed instructions, key placements, passcodes and maps. A boat house on one of the Orkney Islands contained a cabin cruiser able to cross to Norway, she would use her dive gear to swim ashore to a small village. In the village a car would be available to drive to Switzerland.
The third deviated with a motorcycle from Dover to Calais via the Channel Tunnel then trains to Geneva. The fourth was the most extreme. She simply abandoned everything, use her dive gear to swim out to a GPS coordinate offshore and be met by a U.S. Navy sub that would remain submerged to retrieve her.
Tammy looked up. "All of this could be done?"
Dannigan gave her an intent look. "I want this clear. If it comes to it; we'll hide you for a year in Mayan ruins deep in the Peruvian jungle and when you come out, you look like a twenty year old doppelganger for Olivia Newton-John."
"For the love of God, let's hope it doesn't come to that, Sir." Tammy replied.
Dannigan sat back. "But now you understand how far I'll go. I take care of my own Tamara. You are now one of my own. I just have to share you with Sean and, what was his name? Smith?"
"So I'm still with them?" Tammy asked.
Kim spoke up. "Pretty much on paper. They can ask you to do things, you shouldn't get bored. Additional training and so on. The U.K. is your country, your home. Do what you can to protect it."
"So I now have an 'Uncle Paul' along with an 'Uncle Sean'." Tammy quipped
Dannigan smirked. "That's a way to put it, niece. Just remember, you may be charming, but I'll still crawl your ass should you screw up."
"Yes, sir. I'll do my best to avoid that." Tammy smiled.
Krystel smiled. "That's it. Fend for yourself for lunch then hit the beach and have fun, Tammy-girl. You go home tomorrow. You'll be notified in a week about your Reno Protocols institution."
Tammy shook hands with Dannigan, then saluted him. "Thank you, Sir."
Tammy experimented in Krystel's kitchen using the diet program for lunch then changed into a bikini and went to the Eastern beach. Carl waved as she approached.
Tammy smiled to see two surfboards. "This is a challenge I've always wanted to try!"
After more spectacular wipe-outs than she cared to count, Tammy finally rode in wave. Arms raised in triumph, Tammy shouted in delighted victory and saw Carl taking her picture. She rode the board until it beached, causing her to stumble on the sand. Tammy laughed and danced around cheering.
"Go on back out, catch another ride!" Carl encouraged.
Tammy picked up the board and did exactly that. By the time the sun started to set, she had successfully rode in many times. After dinner, Tammy went to sleep with a broad smile.
Saturday Tammy awoke and took to the exercise with new enthusiasm. It was her final day and she wanted to give her all. During the swim, she pushed hard to lead Krystel, but they remained abreast of each other. Coming from the surf, Tammy summoned all she had and sprinted for the runway.
"COME ON TAMMY! YOU'RE DOING IT! GO GIRL! GO! TAKE THE LINE!" Krystel yelled as they ran.
Tammy could see the usual wide line scuffed in the sand beside the runway and strained to give more. Tammy crossed the line right beside Krystel.
"ALRIGHT! BEST YET!" Krystel announced as they stopped.
"That's it! I'm knackered!" Tammy gasped.
They cooled down and went back to Krystel's for breakfast. Tammy took her time getting dressed, a light floral dress and heeled sandals after make-up and hair.
"You get a cheat-day today." Krystel told her and set down a plate of two super-thick hotcakes, crisp bacon, an egg over-easy and a bottle of maple syrup.
Tammy laughed. "Krystel, those cakes should be illegal!"
"Girl, a cheat-meal is good for morale." Krystel said as she sat down.
After breakfast, they cleaned up then packed Tammy's luggage. The new would be sent later on. Tammy enjoyed the flight back to Freeport. Krystel took her back to the hotel to check out then onto the airport.
"Time to go home. Don't go slacking. You have a pool and gym. Stay in shape, eat right and maintain your skills." Krystel advised.
Tammy laughed. "Right, I'll keep up. I'd hate for a remedial hand-to-hand lesson!"
"Want to know a secret?" Krystel smirked.
Tammy nodded. "Certainly!"
"As good as you think I am, I've never beaten Lyssa. None of us ever have. You'll see us all again at the race, but you won't be neglected. We're with you Tammy. Don't forget it. Have a quiet flight." Krystel told her.
Tammy hugged her friend. "I look forward to seeing you all again. Thanks. For everything."
Tammy picked up her carry-on and walked to the gate.
*****TBC in CP and Tamara's Tales****
Many thanks to Shiraz for letting Tamara's Tales and LKM/CP crossovers, they've been a lot of fun and I look forward to new adventures!
Model, Ballerina, Spy , Assassin. Among those secrets, she has some of her own.
LKM timeline
01) Steel Butterfly
02) Reprisal in Rio
03) Latin Lethal Action
04) Misdirection in the Mediterranean
05) Butterfly in the Dark
06) Glitter and Sahdows
07) Desert Butterfly
08) Butterflies and Terror in Paradise
09) Glamour and Collectors
10) Butterfly and the Dragon's Den
11) The Fortress
12) Butterflies and Sharks
13) Roses and Butterflies
14) Butterflies in the Golden Triangle
15) Butterflies Chasing Cats
16) Ghosts, Shadows and Butterflies
17) Tinseltown Takedown
18) Butterflies and Monsters
19) Mentors, Pupils and Butterflies
20) Primas and Butterflies
21) Resurrections
22) Sisters and Nightmares
23) Butterflies and Cherubs
24) Changing of the Guard
25) Butterflies and Christmas Bells
26)Visions of Butterflies and Eagles
27) Canyons and Legends
28) A Life after Life
29) Princes and Pirates
30) The Butterfly Bride
31) Butterfly Games
32) Predators and Prey
33) Dawning Mirage
34) The Chrysalis Project pt.1
35) The Chrysalis Project pt.2
36) Transitions
37) Touch Me Not; Forget Me Not
38) Transcendence, Vengeance and Secrets
39) Lost, and Found
Chrysalis Project Book 1: Ghostmoth book 1
40) Finals
Chrysalis Project Book 2: Steel Dove book 1
Book 3: Ghostmoth book 2
41) Angels and Animosity
Chrysalis Project Book 4: Iron Dolphin
42) Favors, Visions and Dreams
Chrysalis Project Book 5: Steel Dove book 2
43) Duty and Revenge
Chrysalis Project Book 6: Steel Dove book 3
44) Dead Zone
Chrysalis Project Book 7: Iron Dolphin book 2
45) Invoking DemonWraiths
Chrysalis Project Book 8: Ghostmoth book 3
46) Butterflies in the Fields of Blood
Book 1 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa Kordenay; ballerina, model, spy, assassin. a woman haunted by memory, possessed by the thirst for revenge. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
The door opened and the two men looked up as a maid came in bearing a coffee service. She smiled and quietly set the tray on the low table and poured two cups then set them down on each side with an adjustment to the tray, smiling again as the men thanked then dismissed her. Quietly backing out to close the double doors behind her she smiled to the imposing men stationed outside the doors and walked down the hall feeling their eyes locked to her backside as carried herself down the hallway.
Once around the corner she stepped closer to an alcove and out of the modest shoes, stepped into a pair of very high heels then pulled the maid's uniform away to reveal a strapless mini-dress. She concealed the disguise into the alcove then walked away to the main lobby letting her hair down.
As upon her entrance earlier, many heads turned at her exit slipping the designer sunglasses into place and taking a slip of paper from the top of her dress; a valet ticket passed to the the young man who had a very difficult time focusing on his task but managed to bring the low slung sports car around. A quick sweep of her fingers along the dress's neckline again liberated a bill slipped to the young man along with a dazzling smile as she deftly slipped down into the car, flawlessly easing away as if unknowing of two men choking and collapsing from poisoned coffee not to be discovered for another half hour while she was passing through security gates at the airport.
Collecting her purse and carry on then stepping back into her shoes then proceeding to the jet way when the cellphone toned. Stepping out of the way of others embarking the plane she answered to confirm departure and arrival times then disconnected and boarded the plane. After take-off she drank from a bottle of water and read from a novel, the latest romance from a popular writer until the plane landed 10 hours later.
A few minutes to clear customs then reclaiming her car from the long term parking. 45 minutes later she pulled into a parking space at non-descript office plaza. A nod from the receptionist carried her forward into a hallway and an outer office where a secretary pressed a buzzer as she reached for a door that opened to her touch and stepped inside.
"Welcome back Lyssa, we have confirmation; both eliminated and you're clean," the man seated behind the desk spoke as she took a chair facing him.
" Things usually go well when i do my own planning, Sir," Lyssa acknowledged.
"yeah well the powers that be still have their reservations," he reminded.
"Major they can doubt me as much as they like, it just shows how weak they are," she retorted," I can still do my job as I was trained to do, plus more now."
"yeah well, 50 successful missions later......you know how it goes; one 'oh shit' wipes out one-hundred 'atta-girls' and we both know that just as well as they do," he cautioned.
"yes Major, I won't forget, just as I won't forget that those same powers that be can be blackmailed into burning me all over again," Lyssa admitted grimly.
"Yes, a sorry damn fact if there ever was one, and still no closer to who that was either," he seethed.
"That information will come. And when it does, action will be taken. When they are seeming to be on top, I'll take them down then out," Lyssa stated flatly.
"Sergeant, and I'm using that term loosely, cut that loose, there will be no gunning for politicos and that's final," the Major fumed at her.
"Bullshit, Sir, I find out who and they belong to me! The only thing keeping me from going full-time on that are these missions. Give me jobs or I find myself a hobby," Lyssa snarled in return,"now is there anything else or am I dismissed...Sir?"
"That is all. Don't forget to sign for your pay," the Major said.
He returned her salute when she stood, both of them from habit. The secretary gave Lyssa a sympathetic look as she signed a receipt and took possession of an attache case. A quick look inside satisfied her to which she turned and left. Once outside she opened the trunk of the car, transferred the money into another case and set the empty behind the retaining wall bordering the lot then got in and drove away.
At the corner she reviewed her security system confirming nobody had done anything to her car. Lyssa learned the very hardest of ways that no one could be trusted, not anymore and not by her. Lyssa learned her lessons well, especially when taught the hardest of ways.
Two hours later Lyssa studied the end of the driveway, no tracks disturbed the smooth sand she had smoothed over when she left. After a few more minutes she restarted her car and drove on to park in front of a small cottage. Taking deliberate steps she crossed the porch and tapped a spot on the doorjamb then unlocked the door and stepped inside. A glance at the small display on the alarm pad counted down from fifty-nine seconds but it was a ruse; actually she had twenty seconds to key in the ten digit code on the keypad under the staircase then the four digit code beside the entry door, once both were done she was safe from her own security. Returning to the car she retrieved her bags and set them all down in her bedroom where she removed her dress, heels and underwear then stepped into a steaming shower. The water streamed down followed soon by her tears as she sank down and wept in frustration of things beyond her grasp.
To say things were bad would be making an understatement, without putting a fine head on it things had gone beyond disastrous thought the soldier. Bad guys-4, good guys- nothing; the DEA agent lay dead across the room and he was tied to a chair in between sessions with a car battery and cables.
POW training had been extensive but this was no-holds barred, and the best that could be hoped for was a quick death. Death itself didn't frighten the sergeant, that was an acceptance, dying badly was the issue. An issue that had become a prominent reality. Still how things had gone so bad and by the numbers that was the real question, almost as if they had known the team was coming and when they would get there. those thoughts could wait, break time was over and here came 'sparky' and his pal. it was frying time again.
"Still you are silent," snickered the taller of the two.
"Not for long," laughed the other passing one end of a jumper cable.
A metal rod clamped in it then dowsed the soldier with a bucket of water and stepped back. The rod touched his leg and the current shot through locking his body then making pain wrack through breath bellowing out a howl of pain til the rod withdrew his breath caught he smiled inciting the shorter to let go with a vicious punch making blood spray away from impact.
He laughed and spat at his captors,"That all you two pansies got? I been slapped harder by waitresses than that!"
That wrought another punch to the face followed by one to the stomach. that was working, they were easily goaded. He gave them both a feral grin as the rod came down again and the current flashed through locking his body and expelling another scream of pain. hours of off and on sessions continued, during one of the lulls they were talking among themselves.
he heard one say " Our Washington friend made good perhaps we should fund a re-election? the information is certainly valuable."
another answered with a laugh," that would be too easy! Give the politicians things that make them fat and lazy, they will give us their country to slaughter, with their special military first."
another round of laughter echoed back to him but now all senses were red-lined. The team had been sold out, but by who? That was something to fight for, and fighting was all he knew how to do and now the cause was revenge for treachery
Six days of torture later neither party learned anything new from the other. The methods were primitive and brutal, nothing technical about it, just all out pain from electricity and beatings when the wall blew inward. Yells and gunfire drifted to him through the haze of semi-consciousness, then voices of confirmation and hands freed his own. The last things he heard was that he had been secured and the DEA agent along with the four other team members were toast, then the lights went out completely.
The lights came back on slowly and things were definitely different, the place was comfortable though he personally was far from it and the voices in discussion weren't male and foreign, they were american.
"Sergeant? can you hear me," asked a very familiar voice.
forcing open swollen eyes proven to be of little help so he tried to nod bringing a grunt of pain.
"Steady son, you're home and safe. Rest easy now and we'll deal with things as we get to them," the voice reassured him as sleep once again claimed him.
A week later a good deal of swelling had reduced though what vision he had was very blurry. From time to time someone stepped into the room but never said anything, late that night the footstep came again but not alone.
An orderly whispered,"Sir I can get a court-martial for this, the man is still uncleared to leave the bed much less the room."
"You let me deal with that specialist, now get him into that wheelchair so I can get him into a SCIF," demanded the voice.
This sounded very serious he though, a SCIF was a special room for high level briefings and debriefings; basically a box within a box and completely sound secure, but why drag him into one now? A half hour later he looked at the man in a civilian suit with a seriously hard expression.
"There will be no record of this conversation," the man said without introduction.
"One of those 'we ain't here and this didn't happen' type things," he asked rhetorically then winced.
"Correct," the man answered.
That answered that he thought, a spook. A high level spook being that this was happening at one in the morning in a SCIF with nobody else in the room. Also that this was a conversation not to be repeated. Ever.
A moment later the spook read from a notepad, "sometime during semi-consciousness you made the statement the team had been blown and the compromise came from a seat in Washington. Is that correct?"
"yes Sir, the op had been compromised all the way down the line by a political figure in Washington. my...hosts... were very amused by that," he answered.
The spook asked, "Did you get the name?"
"Negative Sir, I tried every reverse interrogation trick I know of and got nothing. My best guess is that they personally didn't know who," he gritted out then felt light headed.
"Stay with me soldier, just a couple more things," The Spook said firmly," first; the DEA agent was he already dead or killed during your confinement?"
"During my confinement Sir, he was murdered in front of me because he had no information about any contingency plans of the team's failure, Sir," he managed to grumble out, his throat still raw and he was thirsty.
"Second; did you hear any information pertaining to the whereabouts of Ramone Padosa," the Spook continued.
"No Sir, only that he was in contact with them," he stammered out.
He was starting to see double again and it seemed like the lights were dimmer than before.
"Something else....what did you mean by 'you don't have to worry about being pretty' Sergeant.....Sergeant?" the Spook asked but the lights had gone out for him again as he slumped forward and went face first to the tabletop.
The dawn had come and the sun rose fast and now at mid-morning, Lyssa stood on the back deck drinking cold juice. The five mile swim down the beach had been followed by a five mile run back up then a ten mile round trip bike ride. An hour of ballet positions then a shower of alternating hot and cold water after spending time with the heavy bag and speed-ball. Walking inside she passed pictures along the wall; soldiers, ballerinas, athletes and models. Breakfast was simple; mixed fruit, muffins and coffee. The sun flashed off the ribbons on the wall catching her eye; the silver star and purple heart among them.
People came and went from the room, Officers and Agents. All with unending questions but the mysterious Spook never returned. Pending medical review he was put on extended leave. Getting around was getting easier but a lot of things still hurt especially the muscle spasms, it seemed electro-interrogation had some residual effects. every alphabet agency had questions about that as well every moment remembered were relived over and over for the sake of future agents and operators.
Everybody and their subordinate had questions but nobody had any answers even though one question of his was yet to be asked; who was the politician that sold them out. To give peace and quiet a condo had been leased in the nearby town and now PT consisted of a slow walk around the cul-de-sac. One night the doorbell rang very late, dragging himself out of bed and limping down the hall seemed like a blessing considering the nightmares were about to begin. Opening the door he still debated on whether to thank or swear at the visitor when he realized it was the Spook.
"Oh yay...mr.Late-nite excitement puts in an appearance," he grumbled and stepped back to let him in.
"Now that's an original moniker for me," the Spook commented.
"Well its too late for beer and too early for coffee so what do you want now," he asked.
"Nice place, you know your done in spec ops," Spook asked looking around the main room.
"No I didn't, my review is pending whoever the hell you are," he snapped back at him.
"Its all over but the shouting Sergeant, they'll tell you you're done in spec ops and you have your choice of permanent desk duty outta sight-outta mind til you R.O.A.D or you can medical out," Spook said flatly as if commenting about the weather.
"We both know your answer to that," Spook continued," you'll tell 'em to shove the desk up the collective sphincters in the pentagon."
A very long and colorful line using the word fuck took up the next three minutes. Spook waited calmly for the tirade to subside.
"Ok so I'm done. What's your damn pitch," he demanded.
"When you're officially done you have an option," Spook extended a card. just a number, no name.
"Yeah.....I'll think about it," He studied the card, "how long are they giving me."
"Two more weeks Sergeant and then they give you a dog and pony show," answered Spook," Think about it Sergeant. Good luck with the nightmares."
The spymaster turned and walked out closing the door behind him.
True to word, two weeks later the review came down. It was a dog and pony show alright, basically as the Spook as said it; a nothing desk job until retire on active duty- R.O.A.D. or medical out now. Medical it was. A week to process out later and he sat looking at the card. No name, just a number. the Spook. The phone rang twice and was picked up.
"yes, Sergeant," Spook answered.
"I'm ready to talk now,Excitement," he said flatly.
"Ok," Spook replied then disconnected.
He hung up and considered taking a nap being that Spook had a habit of interrupting so-called normal sleep patterns. yeah a good idea he decided. Sometime after one in the morning the doorbell rang and true to form the Spook stood in the doorway.
"So what do I call you besides Late Night Excitement," he asked allowing him inside.
" Dannigan will do....Major if it really matters," Spook answered.
' Major Dannigan', he thought.
More than likely it was an alias, a cover name with appropriate credentials if somebody bothered to poke around and would turn up a supply or recruiting officer at the most but the guy wreaked of high level black ops through and through. Serious tradecraft that only another Operator would recognize. Rangers, Special Forces, Delta; no academy ring meant Dannigan came up the hard way. a Mustang. Enlisted turned officer, translation this guy was all business and didn't take time for bull, the tiger had serious stripes.
"Ok Major, so what's the deal? Job offer," he asked point blank, he could play 'No shitter rules' too.
"Yeah, there's a job offer, but there's gonna be a catch," Dannigan answered.
"yeah yeah....I get sheep dipped, I know," He said unconcerned.
"More than that, Sergeant," Dannigan said idly," you gotta disappear in more than just adminstrative capacity."
Now that was new. Most agencies just white-washed the paperwork and poof, a new asset was brought to bear. This sounded more involved.
"How far does it have to go Major," he asked puzzled.
"New face, new prints, you get the idea," Dannigan answered casually.
"What about.......more than that," he continued.
"Define 'more' Sergeant," Dannigan said pointedly.
"Complete Sir.....whole body change," he said flatly," say...If I cover the cost you bury the paperwork, the process would take three years and during that time I could be retrained with additional skills."
"if I understand the implication correctly, not many would go for this," Spook stated, "to be blunt; nobody would sanction nor volunteer such a radical measure."
a few moments passed in silence then Dannigan looked back to him and said firmly,"Done."
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa worked the speedball with a fury of quick strikes that lasted for 15 minutes then launched to the heavy bag for a series of kicks that rocked it, various forms were utilized with no definite style, the latest technique dubbed Evolution, it incorporated Karate, Kenpo, Tae Kwan do, Krav Maga, Sambo, Akido, Kickboxing, Boxing, Savate, Capoeria and Jui Jitsu. Even a street fighting style that employed using one's surroundings.
Most practicioners made it seem mostly brutal but with Lyssa's dance training it took on a grace that had never been seen before. Ballet and ballroom dance training gave her a refined sense of balance and position, commitment to the move until finished that then led into the next. Fluidity was a more accurate summary.
The hour ended with various Katas to put more emphasis on the techniques and to cool down and stretch the muscles. Finally stepping over to the wall mounted ballet bar she stretched more thoroughly then ended by raising up onto the ball of her left foot and pirouetting. Not traditional but fun she thought. Now for a shower and then the evening.....
More than one conversation stopped as the blonde in the midnight blue dress cleared the door followed by waves from familiar faces. Lyssa stepped to the bar and sat greeted by the bartender setting down the glass of zifandel in front of her.
"so how was Milan Lyssa," asked the chipper bartender.
"Rome, Becky, Milan was last month," Lyssa answered with a smile," and it was great. two pairs of shoes are on the way, but I doubt I'll be on a cover this time."
"oh well, at least you get the shoes,"lamented Becky,"I still say you should go for Victoria's Secret."
"No way, its the grand finale for a model. Le Perla would be a different story," Lyssa joked drawing more than one glance her way.
The soft piano music belied the patrons of the bar; cast of various productions, local gallery owners, basically the arts and entertainment crowd. Though local, they were all recognizable, a new face was odd and a reputation always accompanied it. Lyssa had danced in productions and modeled for a few magazines all overseas to keep things pretty quiet.
Most assumed she did so to keep herself desirable and maintained a lifestyle as someone's very discreet mistress. She encouraged that perception by turning down all local offers to pose or dance, yet took interests overseas that usually went unnoticed in the states. A useful illusion it also kept most of the dedicated skirt chasers at bay as well. Appearing to be super-high maintenance had its benefits. Lyssa dated occasionally and only when it suited her but never serious or lengthy, which was wise.
A few jokes from Becky and a charming producer kept Lyssa entertained for a while when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a girl with a basket of roses. The girl made a round through the bar arriving at Lyssa and presenting her a single white rose.
"from the gentleman," she murmured but didn't indicate one.
Not surprising, no man inside the bar had purchased the rose for her. The girl wasn't there to actually sell the lovely roses but to signal Lyssa that she was expected at a pre-arranged place later that evening.
Three hours later Lyssa stood looking at the fountain lit with multi colored lights. Dannigan stepped beside her.
"Its time," Dannigan said without preamble," Padosa has been spotted."
"Where," Lyssa demanded.
"Rio," Dannigan replied and passed her an envelope," you're clean so you're a go."
"About damn time," snarled Lyssa as she turned to walk away.
"Kordenay," Dannigan called to her and said when she turned back, "This is more than just payback, its for all the marbles. Get everything. Do Not Fail."
Lyssa nodded grimly and faded into the shadows with only a tap of her heels and slight drift of perfume then was gone. To hunt down the man that destroyed a young man's life.
Book 2 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa Kordenay; Ballerina, Model, Spy, Assassin. How does one avenge a destroyed life? find out as Lyssa travel to Rio in pursuit of that vengeance. in a secret world.....she's an Operator with secrets of her own! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa spun closer to Rodrigo and leaned back draping across his arm for two beats then straightened and two crossed steps forward to pivot as he swung his hips in place. The music pulsated as the crowd danced in a flurry of colors and flashes of skin. Samba was a dance of passion and beauty. The club was the hottest in Rio, patronized by the beautiful people, and the dark as well. high level criminals rubbed elbows with politicians, athletes with call girls and models with fighters.
'Fun for the whole bunch,' mused Lyssa as she pranced a circle around her dance partner; Rodrigo, the current capoeria champ. He was a hot dancer and even better fighter. Other benefits too, he knew just about everybody in the club, during the last slow song he pointed out the table of gangsters. they ran the mid-range car theft ring and also the major players in the street-racing scene. that info would come in handy later on. Also he pointed out the three stars of the world league soccer team along with the youngest of the Gracie boys.
A quick change over step and the music faded then slowed again. Perfect timing.
"oooh champagne...Rodrigo that looks like a good idea,"Lyssa's Portuguese was flawless.
"yes it is but I must drink water, lovely," Rodrigo chuckled.
"Oh yes, hot stuff," she agreed," can't have the champion in less than top form."
Rodrigo laughed and let out a loud yell, many echoed his call and saluted him with raised fists and glasses, then still holding Lyssa's hand he guided her through a twirl and steered her towards the bar. She emphasized the swing of her hips as they walked drawing more attention to herself, fair hair and light tan complexion stood out against the sea of traditional dark hair and tans of the brazilians.
Being seen on a traditional modeling spot on Ipanema beach with two local models and photographer cemented Lyssa's credentials as a returning model. a few phone calls to Italy had gotten a shipment of a dozen of the latest swimwear out of Milan arriving at the same time she did. Ana was ecstatic when Lyssa called asking for the favor; some of her latest swim line modeled for only the cost of the photographer and the two local models but it had to be in Rio in three days. Ana had no problem with that and gleefully sent an assistant with the pieces to insure proper fit.
Lyssa met Lucia at baggage claim. the two chatted waiting for their luggage and rode together to the hotel. Lyssa got her settled in and made preliminary inquiries as to two local models and a photographer then the weather and possible locations for the shoot to which the hotel had been more than accommodating for that. That night the serious work started with obtuse questions to the bartender for the questionable night life led her to Club Cattalaya and tonight's present company guiding her away from the bar and to a corner sofa area.
Champagne was poured and the talk was festive mostly about the capoeria match the following night. The manager of the club boasting a large wager he would be placing on Rodrigo to win.
Lyssa looked thoughtful for a moment then asked, "well the manger knows who to bet on but what about the owner? who would he trust his betting money to for a bet on the champ?"
The manager guffawed, "anyone would give two to one odds on Rodrigo but only Ernesto would cover the boss' bet," pointing to a table of three men and five scantily clad women.
Lyssa stood up, "then i should go see a man named Ernesto then about a wager...Look tired Rodrigo. Maybe i can talk him into five to one odds."
That comment got a round of laughter from the group as she stepped towards the table putting the extra swing to her hips as before drawing the men's attention soon enough.
"Aiyeee, look at you! What brings such a pretty girl to our table," one of the men asked with a shark-like look.
"I came to talk to Ernesto, isn't he the man to talk to about a bet," Lyssa answered brightly.
Another of the men snickered, "sure.....give you fifteen to one odds on Antonio."
Lyssa faked a puzzled look as she said, "But i was going to bet on Rodrigo. I was hoping for maybe four to one because he's been so exhausted lately. I have to bet on him because he's so nice but he's so tired...."
They casually looked over at the sofa area and caught his eye to which he then winked and gave an exaggerated yawn and sprawled over the cushion.
"Just look at him, he's just so wiped out, he doesn't think he can even make it home to get his rest so I suggested he come back to the hotel because he said its closer," Lyssa played the blonde to them.
that got a few nods and nudges among the men.
Finally one said, "ah you a kind soul and for that I will give you the four to one odds on our great Rodrigo but you must ensure that he recovers in your care and triumphs."
"Oh I will, senor Ernesto, I'm at the Ipanema Grand. Lyssa Kordenay," she slipped a one-hundred bill from her top and slid it across the table giving them her bright smile then skipped back over to her group and pretended to fuss over Rodrigo.
And now she had her underworld contact; Ernesto.
CHAPTER 2
Ramon laughed coldly reading the report from the DEA agents to their superiors in Washington. Presently they had no idea he was in Rio assuming he was still in the tri-border area. that was good. His leverage over the congressman was still holding sway, the weak man cared not for the safety of his own family but more for the scandal if the video of his wife trading sex for a few lines of cocaine came to light. The politcian would do anything he demanded to keep that a secret. Ramon had worked six months to get the woman addicted and it had worked, Ramon Padosa was untouchable by the american agencies now. and so he would remain even if someone else took the congressman's place he would be able to manuever that one the same way in short time. Even slaughtering a DEA agent and members of the military rescue team went without serious reprisal, though one that had been captured and tortured was rescued but would never be a thorn in anyone's side again.
According to another report that soldier had been so badly damaged that the need to be medically dismissed ended that one's career. That highly entertained him, the part that didn't was the amercian soldier never broke, most people including police and agents broke in less than a day but the soldier had withheld for 7 days with nothing but taunts to his captors, why he didn't know or understand, it was as if he had been testing them, what they were willing to do as much as they were testing to see how much he could endure before trying to make deals for death or the sparing of his life. None of that mattered right now he had money to make, the championship was tomorrow night and many were betting on the champion who was sure to win. Perhaps not this time Ramon thought. the odds were very alluring if he wanted to interfere, he thought with a cold smile.
The crowd around the shoot wasn't too bad as the models posed in the skimpy bikinis directed by the photographer. the light was adequet enough for the shots but time was flying by and they were mostly focused on the event later on making everyone distracted. there were the usual leers and catcalls from the beachgoers but mostly they watched for a few moments then moved on. Many of the women lingered though commenting enviously of the new swimwear and its origin, even in Rio Italian design was highly coveted.
a few more minutes splashing around in the ankle deep water and the photographer called an end to the session. Lucia collected the bikinis from the two local models who quickly donned their own personal swimwear and then took up chatting with several of the men who'd spent time watching the shoot, as a favor to the girls Lyssa had Lucia shout encouraging things in Italian towards the end which really made the two more popular. Such distraction would work more in her favor as some of the more swarthy type were taking more interest in her, locations of parties later on were shared and with a little enticement the noted names of guest lists were also revealed. When the name of a high level Padosa cartel member was mentioned she knew then which one to be at.
CHAPTER 3
The crowd cheered at the flurry of punches and sweeping kicks followed by daring acrobatics in perfect time to the drums, many clapped to the hidden beat that was the secret to the fighting style.
Lyssa stood with a small group of supporters close to the ring chanting "Fly...Fly...Fly" in support of Rodrigo 'The Hawk' as he battled fiercely against Antonio. in a stroke of inspiration Lyssa gained one of the trainers' attention and signaled for one of the towels to be thrown to her, which he did a bit puzzled and then saw her add a print of her lipstick then encourage the other women of the small group to do the same then passed it back to the trainer who smiled and during the next break made sure Rodrigo took note of the support by all the lovely ladies behind him.
Spurred on by such seductive support Rodrigo went back in and viciously attacked bringing his opponent down , The count ended and he executed a dramatic back-flip before raising his arms in victory then helping his fallen adversary and embracing him in a show of sportsmanship he was known for. a turn and blown kisses to the group of female admirers then handshakes to rival trainers ended the match with a roar of cheers.
Music blared as the celebration was in full swing when Rodrigo stood atop a table, an offered glass was held up and he sent out a toast to his family and trainers and friends for their support as well as wishes for a quick recovery to Antonio for a future rematch and finally to God for seeing him through to an honorable victory which many echoed then drank with him and then he was swept away by a crowd for comments and autographs.
"Who is she," Javier asked the host pointing to blonde woman wearing a light purple dress handing a glass to Rodrigo as he stood on a table.
"Her name I did not catch, but I do know she is a model here for a photo shoot. they were on Ipanema most of the day," he said.
"models you say," Javier prompted.
"Oh yes. An Italian designer if I heard right, quite.....stylish," he said with a wink.
That said volumes, the implication clear; designs that were barely there even for Rio's standards. Javier noticed also that Ernesto approached her then kissed her hand and smiled with every bit of charm the man possessed as he counted out four large denomination bills that he gently pressed into her hand as she kissed his cheek then tucked them into the top of her dress. he would have to find out more about this model Javier thought to himself. should be rather easy...all models enjoyed parties. he signaled a server to bring her another glass of champagne.
Lyssa thanked the young waitress as she took the glass and looked to the "gentleman" she pointed out and walked over to thank him personally.
"thank you senor for the drink," she said slowly marking well the face of Javier of the Padosa cartel, "most kind of you."
"Ah a lady as lovely as yourself should always be...attended to," Javier leered.
She was even more attractive up close he thought,as well as how on earth could she move so easily, not deliberately catty like most models but more like a dancer after great sex.
Lyssa had made her way over casually. a smile to a designer here and a nod of recognition to another model there both returned with grace and the signal from a noted male model to call him was noticed as well until she stood in front of Javier.
"hello senorita, good evening," Javier greeted her with a smoothness.
"Good evening to you as well senor," Lyssa paused for his introduction.
"Javier Rojas, Senorita," he asked politely taking her hand.
"Lyssa Kordenay," she answered easily, then looked him up and down.
Ha, he thought, she was sizing him up; determining his importance based off appearance. He knew his suit was of upper echelon Italian design as were the shoes, of a different designer, while his jewelry were of noted american designers and his hair of the latest euro style, she was a different story. Her hair fell in gentle waves not curls and her jewelry in silver looked to be local or western american, her dress and heels undetermined but her perfume was subtle enough that it enticed a man to come closer just to investigate it and her with it.
Her Portuguese was flawless and without accent but she was definitely an american a quick hello to a passing girl in equally flawless french mildly surprised him, not that she spoke french but how well. A necessary skill he gathered, being a model, yet a recognized as she had been by the insiders of that circle he was surprised he'd not seen or heard of her before. After a few minutes of small talk that really gave him no further information than he had before she excused herself to the ladies room he went over to a local model of note and inquired about her.
The information he got was that yes she was an international model but preferred runway to publication though had more than one cover on European magazines and catalogs also that she was indeed a dancer, ballet of the most rigid discipline, Bolshoi specifically and had danced in productions in Moscow, France and Australia but had turned down many projects that would easily make her as Americans say,'a household name'.
The implication was subtle yet understood; she modeled and danced to keep herself in the right social circles more than likely to maintain the right relationships with benefits. A mistress. That would explain the ease around somewhat powerful men and the casual sizing up. Javier wasn't a 'somewhat powerful man', he was second only to Ramon himself in the largest and most feared cartel in south america, a woman like this Lyssa Kordenay would definitely learn that later on tonight.
CHAPTER 4
"Do not worry my dear, I assure you we are quite private here, " Javier called to her from the bedroom.
He concealed a wicked looking knife under a pillow and then checked the chill of the champagne. A quick stop at her hotel to pick up an overnight bag in preparation for the next days shoot sealed her agreement to a stay at his villa just outside the city.
"That's good, a girl's reputation can be priceless Javier," she called back from the en suite bathroom.
"Ah on that I completely agree..."Javier froze in mid sentence, the smile slowly fading.
Gone was the sexy model in a stunning designer dress to be replace by a wraith in form fitting black with a face streaked by black grease paint but more importantly a silenced auto-pistol in her hand that now bear down on him. Without a word the pistol chugged once sending a bullet into his knee bringing him to the floor to howl in pain. Lyssa grabbed a clutch of his hair and dragged him over to a chair and secured him; ankles, wrists and mouth then slowly opened the door and slipped out.
Pain throbbed in Javier's knee from where she had shot him. Who in the hell was this woman he wondered furiously until the soft click of the door opening brought his attention back, he thanked god silently until instead of the voice of one of his men spoke but the soft honeyed voice of Lyssa whispered in his ear.
"Now we're completely private,I assure you. Javier Rojas; of the Padosa cartel,"Lyssa hissed.
She then stood in front of him, odd streaks of blood mixed with her black facial stripes. she removed her gloves then pulled the tape from his mouth.
"You bitch," Javier spat at her, "you will regret this."
Lyssa turned and went into the bathroom returning with a small bag that she unzipped revealing a hypodermic needle and two ampules. Drawing a measured amount of clear liquid from one she showed him the needle then jammed it into his neck and pressed the plunger slowly while he bellowed in anger.
Lyssa leaned in close and said with pure hatred in her eyes, "past the black gates. Before the Devil's throne. I've been to hell already, I taking you somewhere worse.....much worse."
Half an hour later amid screams of pain Javier answered her questions of Ramon Padosa, where he was, when he would be moving, whom he would be seeing, how strong the defenses around the hacienda both here in Rio and at Tri-Borders. Even the concealed escape passages of both. the drug wore off shortly before dawn. he had even confessed his plans to threaten her with the knife under the pillow until she allowed his every carnal wish. that same knife now held loosely in her right hand as he looked up with hooded eyes from pain and hallucinations induced by the drug.
"Welcome back," Lyssa hissed a coldness in her voice and eyes.
"you have what you want,now what bitch," he wheezed out.
"Just this," She hissed.
Lyssa then used the knife to slice open his pants and underwear then used light strokes of her nails to elicit an erection while whispering all the things he had planned to do to her. to his horror he swelled for her then the knife slowly stroked across opening the delicate skin and hot blood pumped. he looked up speechless in terror into her cold eyes.
"Don't worry Javier, this is nothing compared to what awaits Ramon," Lyssa said with a voice of pure iced fury.
Javier looked down to see blood running all over himself he looked back up into her eyes. Eyes that never wavered as the lights went out behind his.
An hour later Lyssa slipped back into the hotel the same way she had slipped out with no one the wiser. She dropped her bag into the closet then went to the bathroom and showered. a nap for two hours then a call to the photographer to stall the day was pointless. The photographer had left a message for his voicemail stating that he was incapacitated for the better part of the day. No doubt hung over she thought, a quick call to the local models confirmed it as they were too, the continuing shoot was postponed two days.
The Lyssa Kordenay Missions continue with
Latin Lethal Action!
Book 3 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Revenge may be at hand for Lyssa as she finally goes after the head of a narco-cartel Is vengeance finally within her grasp? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Ramon Padosa roared with anger slamming down the telephone. Someone had dared to attack his organization, and worse had killed his second in a horrible way. In fact everyone at Javier's villa was dead. His source within the police said that there was absolutely no evidence. No bullets, no shell casings, no unknown fingerprints; nothing. 'Extensive counter-measures had been taken to conceal the identity of the attackers' was the phrase used.
When Ramon demanded to know what that meant, he was told how extensive; bullets were dug out of the bodies and two walls. Blood pools were contaminated with bleach and ammonia, surfaces were dowsed with the deadly mixture as well; doors, windowsills, counters and switches. The empty containers had been burned in the driveway which was concrete so there were no shoe prints not matched to those on site, but the worst was Javier. Javier had not had a gentle death. Drugged, wounded and emasculated. This was a message to him. Someone was either brave or crazy enough to threaten him and still be unknown. Someone must know he thought as he started dialing.
Lyssa woke up again a few minutes before noon a glance at her cellphone revealed two messages and the blinking light on the bedside phone indicated a message at the desk as well. The cellphone were both text messages which were no rush to be answered. A quick rinse off in the shower then bare make-up and a simple dress and sandals, she was ready. Downstairs the message was simple, both the local girls were upset that they got carried away at the celebrations and wanted forgiveness. Lyssa smiled and had them called with the message that if they could meet her within the hour lunch was on her.
Forty-five minutes later they joined her both looking still slightly hung-over. Lyssa assured them that all was forgiven but as a one-time thing, other jobs would't be as forgiving but tomorrow had to be top form as the designer was anxious to see the photos that would be air-shipped as soon as possible instead of developed locally then sent off and copies of the best would be sent to them for their portfolios. they hastily agreed that such leniency wouldn't be taken for granted. The lunch lasted an hour due to conversation of the after-parties attended then Lyssa advanced them a third of their pay to carry them til the next day then paid the lunch check and left to see a friend she claimed, earning giggles from both models as they left as well.
A rental car provided the means to get to a secluded cove outside the city. Just under the water's surface Lyssa dragged up a container. Once on the beach she opened it and removed the resupply bag of ammunition, additional weapons and explosives. Using the box lid she dug a deep hole and placed the empty box, lid and some debris into it then ignited it. It burned quickly into non-recognition then she back filled the pit and drove back to the hotel with a stop-off at an isolated villa.
Back at the hotel she went over the latest satellite imagery and reports that had been shuffled through a dozen various agencies before being compiled into a packet and loaded out like the weapons and ordinance onto naval transports then a british submarine carrying royal marines that were conducting training exercises for amphibious infiltration mapping. Nobody came out of the water nor lingered in the area and none of the other agencies in Rio had been contacted for assistance of any kind. The loop was closed with Lyssa alone.
If you couldn't obliterate a trail of bureaucracy completely this was the best alternative, single things moving in a myriad of directions but no real destination. Only an operator with years of contacts off the books could make that happen and no over-sight committee would ever be able to cash in enough favors or bully their way through the set-up that got her resupplied. Nothing to take for granted though, no contact to anybody official on anything that could be traced back to either her or Dannigan.
The congressman burned up every phone number he had and still nobody knew anything about the murder of Javier Rojas in Rio, other than what the local police knew. Ramon Padosa was frothing at the mouth for answers and nobody knew anything, just the speculation that another small cartel might possibly be trying to move in by making a bold play but neither the DEA nor the CIA could confirm anything. The pre-paid cellphone rang in his pocket. Padosa would not be happy with nothing but he answered anyway as the voice on the other end started immediately screaming demands.
Dannigan hung up the phone and stared out the window. Someone on the hill was putting out feelers and they were very good at it; three agencies and five subsidiary had been contacted about action in Brazil. Inquiries were made and the ball got rolling, passive and extremely quiet questions were to be asked but no direct actions, back channel feeds only. The resupply went without a hitch thanks to an old friend in the royal navy totally outside american channels that owed no favors to anybody else in U.S. service.
Lyssa was on her own, her only hope if blown was a concealed poison release on the side of her lower gum. Normally a cyanide derivative would be held but it could be traced back to american service, the one in hers was actually a combination of poisons invented by the KGB and Mossad. A neat trick that she thought of herself, the same poison she'd used twice already to everyone's confusion. Lyssa deliberately keep herself in the dark as to which agency she actually worked for. No traces, she was alone. Exactly how she wanted it.
Lyssa stood on the balcony watching the ocean as her hair dried on its own. Brazilians habitually had late dinners so she was in no hurry she could wait at least another hour before getting ready for the evening. Tonight would have to be early due to the next day's shoot schedule they needed to be done by early afternoon so that the film and swimwear could be on the evening flight to Rome. She'd already established that she was also in Rio to play as well as work so staying around for a week would go without raising eyebrows. Provided Padosa didn't tuck tail and run back to Tri-borders, she'd be exfiltrating to Monaco in seven days for the film festival, she even had an escort with passes to the premiers. But that was then...this is now and now was Padosa.
Padosa was the job, Padosa had always been the job. As the night settled down she went inside and started putting on her make-up and styling her hair then slipped into the Le Perla lingerie and a cocktail dress in pale blue and a pair of silver stilleto heel sandals. After dinner she would visit Ernesto, as he would have the feel of what was going on in the Padosa camp. Stepping into the elevator she focused her self and the facade she needed for the night then stepped out when the doors opened. Lyssa stepped out and ventured into the waiting city. The smiles directed at her were plenty and some even charming; unknowing that a predator far more dangerous than any local now moved through the city. A pale golden haired hunter of men with steel colored eyes.
Ernesto Laughed as the blonde on the dancefloor did a double-take then smiled and waved to him. He waved back and signaled invitation to join the table. She nodded but signaled "a moment" indicating she would finish the song with the man she was dancing with then come over. Which she did, walking up to the table smiling.
Lyssa allowed him her hand to kiss, "Ernesto! how are you?"
"Oh I always am doing well when a beautiful woman comes to see me," he oozed, "you are having much fun?"
"Very much so, but I'm afraid it'll have to be an early night tonight," she somewhat pouted.
"Oh? why is that lovely Lyssa," he asked.
"well we all partied too hard last night so today was canceled,"She admitted ruefully, "the designer is a little put off but I promised we'd shoot tomorrow and get everything to Italy on the evening flight out."
"Ah, well then at least one drink and dance and I will see you personally back to the hotel to make sure," Ernesto proposed pouring a glass of champagne for her.
"Oh I'd like that a lot Ernesto, I have to keep my promise. Ana is a good friend and Lucia is anxious to get back home. A newlywed you know," Lyssa explained.
"Well then let's not waste any time," Ernesto chimed his glass to her's.
CHAPTER 3
Ramon slammed his fist to the desk. Nothing; nobody. Someone took out a high level member of his organization and there was no information at all. In fact the Americans were distancing themselves even further away from it. Ordering their people not to investigate actively. As if they either wanted no part or that he no longer mattered to them. His sources in the Brazilian government knew nothing, the Americans knew as much as the Brazilians and apparently didn't care to know more.
This was infuriating, the only other threat was from Interpol and his source in their regional offices turned up nothing as well insisting that Interpol didn't do such work. Ramon picked up the phone again and barked orders when his local man answered.
"Offer a pay off for information about whoever took out Javier and his men last night," Ramone demanded.
Ernesto listened close then hung up his cellphone as Lyssa passed him a glass of champagne.
"Business never ends,"she asked coyly.
"Ah a gentleman never discusses business when sharing a pleasant drink with such a lovely lady," he said smiling then sipped after touching his glass to hers.
They talked about the current fashions for men and which designer would best compliment him. Soon Ernesto's eyes grew heavy and Lyssa steered the conversation to the night before....bets placed, by whom and how much. When Javier's name was mentioned she held him to that line. How much had he bet, and if he'd won. Then when Ernesto said that he wouldn't have to pay him off Lyssa inquired why to be answered with the fact that Javier had been killed by someone.
"Oh really," Lyssa said softly, "now who would do that."
"Nobody knows,"Ernesto admitted, "but he was high up in the Padosa cartel. Ramon Padosa is quite angry over it, even offering a reward for information about it."
"Oh that's interesting, but he sounds like quite a dangerous man Ernesto," Lyssa pressed further.
"Oh he is Lyssa," Ernesto continued sleepily, "but you are far too sweet to worry about Him and besides he would not frequent the busy and lively places you go to."
"How frightening! Now where would such a dangerous man like that be? I want to make sure I am safe from him," Lyssa whispered seductively.
"He is at a northern road mansion outside the city and will be until he finds out who killed Javier. It's almost a palace with all its white stone and walls but don't worry Lyssa. You will be quite safe," Ernesto reassured her.
"That's very good Ernesto, I won't worry now, but its very late and we've had such a good time. Did you leave your man downstairs?" Lyssa asked.
"Oh yes he will stay until I am ready to go home, yes I am so tired," Ernesto nodded.
Lyssa called downstairs for the driver and asked him to come up as Ernesto had unfortunately drank too much and should be taken home just in case anything happened that might be embarrassing to a gentleman. A few moments later a soft knock at the door signalled his arrival. Lyssa let him in acting as if she too had drank more than intended. He smiled and assured her that he would convey that his employer had indeed been a gentleman who simply enjoyed the drinks too much but otherwise had been enjoyable company. After they left; Lyssa locked the door and carefully cleaned the glasses then went to bed for a few hours.
The weather cooperated excellently during the shoot, the local girls in top form posing and giving their best alluring 'come hither' looks for the camera. By noon they were done and changed back into their own personal swimwear enjoying the snacks provided by an impromptu visit by Ernesto who promised that as a personal favor, Lucia would be driven directly to the airport to be seen onto her flight by Lyssa as an apology for the night before. Even though she assured him he had been perfectly behaved and not embarrassed either of them, he insisted that his honor demanded such apology to her and made good on it.
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa had studied all the diagrams of the mansion in great detail to prepare for the late night penetration. A promise of dinner with Ernesto the following night had secured the night free of any distractions to run the recon on Padosa's compound, she set up the cameras and the linked burst transmitter then faded back and left undetected. Fourty-eight hours later she was back and slithering through the foliage.
The guards heard nothing as Lyssa slipped behind them then silently thrust a knife between the base of the skull and jaw below the ear. They died instantly from the blade slicing through their brain soundlessly. She eased into the additional men's barracks and silently made sure they would never wake up then entered the main house. Knowing that all inside were deadly she took no chances in eliminating the staff first then finally making her way up to the master suite and slipping inside the darkend bedroom.
Ramon Padosa dreamt someone was looking at him, a dream so unnerving he woke. As he reached over to turn on the light, that's when the shadow came closer.
"Insomnia?" Lyssa hissed as the light clicked on.
Ramon screamed for his guards as he reached for the gun on the table, the shadow didn't move as he brought it up and sighted at the head smiling as he pulled the trigger to be rewarded with a resounding click.
"Disappointed Padosa," Lyssa asked stepping closer looking intimidating in the form fitted black suit and swirls of combat paint across her face.
He bolted from the bed but fell back from the kick to the side of his head. Lyssa stood looking down then grabbed him and dragged to a chair and using tape to secure him by ankles and wrists to the chair.
His head hurt. alot. Then he remembered why as he realized he was in a chair and couldn't move.
"Oh you're awake now," a honeyed sweet voice said from behind him.
A woman. He hadn't noticed before that it was a woman. Ramon bellowed for his guards but she just dragged the chair to the window and leaned him forward.
"No one is coming to save you from me Ramon Padosa,"Lyssa said flatly directing his gaze to the lawn below.
All of his men laid out across it in death then turned the chair back.
"I'll have your head for this you bitch! Slowly you'll die without even the benefit of being shown the proper place of a woman...ON HER BACK UNDER ME," He screamed at her.
Lyssa ignored him as she brought out the small zippered bag and the needle then slowly filled the syringe with the clear liquid and cleared the bubbles with a tap.
"I gave this to Javier. Its called Inanna. Inanna was the anti-muse, inspiring fear and despair," she said then fixed him with a look of pure hatred," Past the gates and before the throne; I've been to Hell, where I'm taking you is much worse."
He struggled for a moment then froze when she slammed the needle into his neck and pressed the plunger down. Within moments he felt hot as her fist slammed into him then cold as the vision of the black clad warrior slowly began to look like a horrific demon looming closer.
Ramon came to and slowly looked up with hooded eyes to look into Lyssa's rage filled eyes.
"I know everything now and have taken it all away, your accounts in the Cayman islands, panama, Zurich, Dubai. Even the combination to the safe in this very room, and this," Lyssa held up a disc, "Congressman Alkowitz' wife. So that's how you knew all the actions against you."
Ramon looked at her with rage still suffering from the pain and hallucinations induced by the drug.
"I'm far from done with you though," Lyssa said softly bringing forward a car battery and cables.
"WHO ARE YOU," he demanded.
Lyssa doused him with a bucket of water then came closer with the cables and held one to his leg.
"You destroyed my life," she said coldly then brought the other clamp down.
Sparks flew and Ramon screamed as the electricity coursed through him from the battery as she moved strike points for over an hour alternating that with beating him with a bat she'd found somewhere in the house. Bones broke from his legs, feet,arms and hands then she cut the tape and dragged him onto the table and brandished the knife closer.
Lyssa growled, "now I'm going to get creative with you."
Ramon watched in terror as she slowly drew a slight line at his ribs then held the skin against the flat of the blade and yanked downward. Ramon thrashed and howled in pain that seemed amplified as Lyssa worked for over another hour before stopping, leaving him a bloody, shredded mess.
"Please......please whoever you are, just stop this, I'll give you anything you want," Ramon begged.
Lyssa slammed a punch to his mouth knocking several teeth out then hissed, "I'm the one your men couldn't break! Four years ago! The one that held out for six days!"
A look of pure wild horror flooded him, Ramon now knew he would never survive. There was only one thing left to do.
"Please. Please in the name of God end me. I beg you,"Ramon pleaded.
"Very well. In the name of God," Lyssa said icily.
She secured him to the table then showed him a chunk of plastic explosive on a timed detonator. Ramon felt her press the small charge to his mangled scrotal area and heard a beep. Then he watched her pour gasoline all over the room.
"Please...please...I hurt so bad...please Senorita," Ramon begged.
Lyssa ignored him as she picked up the bags of money and intelligence as she walked out. Ramon cried and prayed as the occasional beep sounded after she left then suddenly there was a loud pop and he saw blood splatter outward. Pain set in as he saw flames begin to spread around the room. He was going to hell and this was only a glimpse of what was to come he thought as the flames finally caught the table licking at his body.
Lyssa sealed the packages and sent them out by courier, the intelligence sent to Dannigan, but kept the disc. The cash she kept minus the expenses of the trip and paid for the villa in full. She had plans for the congressman, very soon. Lyssa finished at with the hotel then caught a private flight out to Rome, this was how she traveled off the grid. Using private terminals for planes and boats it was easier. Some of the cash she still carried after a stop in Grand Cayman. After all, she needed to go shopping for the film festival starting in a few days in Monaco.
Book 4 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa goes way off the reservation in pursuit of a traitor. Is it revenge, or long overdue justice? Other problems are presenting themselves. Will Lyssa be reached to solve them in time? |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan checked the reports for the fifth time. Sources in Department of Justice, FBI, DEA,ATF, Customs and Immigration and of course various local and state police but nothing from the CIA,NSA,DOD or his own agency the OICA, Office of Immediate Covert Action. So the question still remains; How in the hell did Padosa stay a step ahead all that time.
The techs also note that some information had been deleted but non-retrievable by disk reconstruction. That meant Lyssa had taken information, the kind she intended to keep for herself and it apparently wasn't financial.
Dannigan swore as he snatched up the phone,"Get me the reconstructions again. Then find Lyssa, Now!"
He slammed the phone back down knowing that Lyssa must have the Washington leak. Ramon Padosa would never have been allowed to die if she didn't. Lyssa would get the cartel leader into a private hospital if she had to just to keep him alive for that information.
His phone rang and he answered,"yes?"
"Reconstructions Sir, how can we help," a young voice asked.
"Tell me everything you can about what was missing from that computer," Dannigan said very slowly.
"Only that it was a video file. About 4 hours of video sir," the tech said.
"That's all," Dannigan asked.
"Yes sir, 4 hours of video titled.....C.A. party, that's all," the tech read, "oh and we tracked down the skype, it jumped 18 different computers to dial from a burn phone in Houston to somewhere on the eastern seaboard, Washington/Maryland/Virginia/Delaware one of those areas sir."
Dannigan resisted voicing his frustration instead he thanked the techincian and hung up.
Walking to the door he leaned out and asked,"Where is she, Madison?"
"Not sure sir, the Brazil number is inactive and the Monaco number isn't active either,"the secretary read from her screen.
"Stay on it Madi, She'll come up soon," he told her then went back into the office and closed the door.
Madison thought to herself aloud, "Lyssa whatever you're doing and wherever you are, surface soon."
The secretary had a very bad feeling. Lyssa wasn't known to go completely off the grid like this, though that's how she traveled. She always kept a phone number active for emergencies, but not this time. She was way off the reservation this time.
Lyssa finished sending the email.
"Gotcha now you sonofabitch,"she snarled and ejected the disc from the laptop.
In a few days she'd be in Monaco but tomorrow she'd be in Greece. She'd bought a burn phone in the Rome airport and a laptop from a local shop was keeping her off normal grids. Lyssa was way out this time but it was neccessary. Corrupt politicians ran dime-a-dozen, all career politicos were to some point but this went beyond appropriations and simple dollars. She needed the whole of Alkowitz' network that he used to burn agents and soldiers in South America and who else knew where. He had to go down, hard and as an example.
A day of shopping in Rome had gotten her outfitted for the trip to Greece. A few italian boys got her the equipment she needed, the funny part was if this all worked out the most it was going to cost her later would be strategically posed nude on the latest Lamborgini for its ad campaign and that was the downside. It was either that or marry the VP of design. He wanted twenty kids so that was out. His mother called him three times during a meeting asking about the women attending so he definitely was out. Lyssa couldn't hold back a chuckle about that so she didn't as she grabbed her bags and went downstairs.
What the agency didn't know was that she had been setting up her own series of safe houses since her first runway job and could drop off the grid anytime she wanted for as long as she needed; either stationary or mobile she could become almost invisible. A hop on a friend's private jet took her from Rio to Johannesburg where she hopped another to get Cairo where Ana had been on a textile trip and was able to bring her into Rome itself. The Italian designer agreed to lend her the plane to get to Athens.
Lyssa's clock was ticking, do the job before anybody figured it out enough to stop her. Lyssa took a powernap during the hop from Rome to Athens and hit the ground running. She would be going full tilt til the very end. She wondered if Dannigan's words would come back to haunt him; this wasn't payback, it was for all the marbles and she could not fail.
Congressman Mitchell Alkowitz stared in rage and horror at the computer screen. The scandalous video playing, the accompanying message was simple; the amphitheater in Athens at midnight. There was no threat stated in the message, there didn't need to be. Ramon Padosa was dead and apparently someone else now held his leash. He picked up the phone and called a service that provided discreet flights and made arrangements to go to Athens. As he came back downstairs from packing his wife stood over the computer, the sounds of violent sex coming from the speakers.
"Shut that off Carolyn," he said.
"You said this would go away, Mitch," she whined, "you said it was taken care of."
"Just shut up, you and your damn habits have caused enough problems," he spat back at her.
Carolyn rubbed her nose unconsciously at the mention of habits. She stumbled past him and up the stairs. In their bedroom she opened the hidden drawer of the vanity table and took out a packet, razor blade and a slender silver tube then cut two lines and loudly snorted them quickly. A few moments later as the tingling feeling crawled through her she fumbled in another drawer and brought out a vibrator and thrust it roughly inside herself, turning its intensity to high.
Mitchell slammed the door as he left closing himself off from her drug enhanced orgasmic moans and shrieks to drive to the private airfield. Ever since that one night ten years ago he had been under Ramon Padosa's thumb. Somehow his wife had ended up at a party that quickly turned into a cocaine enhanced orgy on a hidden camera. In no time at all she had bcome addicted to the white powder and multiple rough partners. The sadistic drug lord had held that over Mitchell's head in blackmail for information about actions against the cartel. Padosa was now dead and someone different held control. He'd find a way to deal with this threat, nobody could worse than the columbian had been.
Lyssa smiled and waved at her friend Arianna as she passed through the private customs gate.
"Finally you come to visit Lyssa and I am on my way out, shame on you,"Arianna teased.
" Oh but I am only in for a couple of days on business then I'll see you in Monaco, I promise," Lyssa assured her friend.
Arianna looked around then frowned, "Why is no one is waiting for you?"
"Don't worry, I'm doing for myself today. I'll take a taxi to where I need to go," Lyssa answered.
"Oh please," the Greek socialite and model rolled her eyes," I didn't drive myself here. My driver will take you where you need to go. Look there he is now."
Tanned and in a casual dark suit, the driver stepped up and nodded.
"Well then, by all means, lead on to my friend's grand chariot," Lyssa joked earning a laugh from Arianna.
At her nod the driver switched lyssa's bags from the cart and place Arianna's on it then took Lyssa's to the limo outside and held the door for her. She mentioned the address to him as she slid into the car. It took a little over half an hour to get to the safe house then she was alone again. After settling her things and the call to a friend in London, a designer that had asked a favor. Favors for favors, the designer would provide her certain pieces of wardrobe for the time in Monaco in return for a favor Lyssa would ask in the future. Lyssa turned and looked out the window to watch the sunset, now was the waiting game.
A week of Hell and four years of angry frustration were coming to hand quickly. The number of lives lost couldn't be estimated, but it was only a handful that truly mattered to her.
"The world as you bastards know it is coming to an end," the beautiful blonde said flatly at the last light of day,"if they're smart they're already blowing their brains out. I hope they're too cowardly as they've always been. Washington will feel like its been hit by nuke."
It had taken six months to get everything just right so she could slip away from the secret service and right now as far as they knew she was in a spa in Virginia. Away from the United States and all officials she would need only the wig just in case a paparazzi crossed her path. Tonight would be great, a rave in Mykonos; the party capital of Greece and the mediterranean. Who knew; she might even be able to sneak in a quick fling and some ecstasy.
A little fun never hurt anybody, besides she was still young and not even the president so why should she have to be cooped up forever. She was 'supposed to go out and have fun' she thought as the elevator stopped. Beth stepped out, the platform heels making a hollow sound as she walked across the lobby with the occasional tug at the hem of the micro dress. Beth smiled at how clever she'd been, in three days she'd walk back through customs re-entering the states without the disguise and make everybody go ape-shit. That would show them they couldn't run her life. She flagged a cab from the curb and rattled off the address to the old driver. The night was young and so was she, party time had waited long enough.
"There, walking out now dressed as a slut with brown hair," a dark woman in the passenger seat of the van pointed at the girl in a micro dress flashing anybody that happened to look as she stepped into the cab.
"I see, we will follow her and watch for the time to strike," the driver said pulling away from the curb.
The information had been right, the President's daughter had slipped away from all protection to attend a decadent rave party and that would be her father's undoing. For too long the movement of the rebel Phillipine people had been ignored, now that the Al Queda fools were no more, the true cause would prevail. No more false religious pretenses, the Phillipines would become truly free and a nuclear super power.
The muslims had subjugated the cause long enough but no more, all they cared about was the death of all non-muslims, infidels they called them, Rani didn't care for their religion. He didn't care for any religion to be honest, the only thing he believed in was a future for the islands without being forced by bigger nations even if it cost the use and death of a silly girl who ignored measures to keep her safe from being exploited in such ways. Yes, undoing indeed.
Dannigan slammed the phone down again, just what he needed, now the President's daughter was missing. Supposedly she had gone to a spa in virginia, yet nobody knew anything.
"MADISON," he simply bellowed instead of wasting a walk to the door," Has any way to contact Lyssa come online yet?"
"No Major, I sent out a message to each phone number and email account. I even called some of the hotels that she's stayed at before but nothing. She hasn't been seen," Madison said exasparated.
It was unlike her to be rendered unproductive and she was starting to take it personally. Lyssa was hiding from everybody and she was needed now. Madison had never asked Lyssa how it was she got around outside U.S. borders, she'd always flown in and out commercially and as of late; first class. For the past six months she had been able to move all aroud the globe with no footprint until returning to the states. London, Bahamas and Hawaii were where she would resurface to return to the states all depending on her direction of travel.
It was great when it served to protect them all from enemy counter-agents, but it sucked rocks when Madison couldn't find their own Operative when needed. Madison was going to have a long talk with Lyssa when she popped back up. Everyone social, film and fashion related were converging on Monaco and Lyssa should have been there by now but she hadn't passed through the customs in Monte Carlo's airport, or any other for that matter.
Though a unorthodox attempt, she even checked the gossip websites of european tabloids just to see if she had been sighted. no luck, everyone was either in Monaco or on their way there except Lyssa it seemed. Madison sent the round of messages out again to all sources for Lyssa.
Mitchell Alkowitz stared angrily at being ignored by cab drivers that were paying more attention to the obviously dressed tourists, finally one pulled up and asked in english if he wanted a taxi. He jumped into the backseat immediately and asked for to be taken to the Hilton. He checked in wanting the penthouse but had to settle for a small suite as a japanese business delegation were using it and had paid in advance. Apparently American politicians had the reputation for being very cheap when traveling without a committee on a fact finding tour.
Normally He'd have waited at the terminal until the Ambassador showed up with a detail of drivers and security men in tow, but he didn't want any of those around, he'd never get rid of them if they were. Embassay people all knew that if they wanted a better assignment the way to get it was to make the Secretary of State look good, and one did that by finding dirt on embassy staff or visiting dignitaries such as a congressman or senator. Promotive relocation via creative distribution of sensitive information. Well any information about his visit to Athens was going to be keep to himself, away from embassy staff.
'What an idiot,' Lyssa thought of the congressman as she drank coffee with a photographer discussing a possible shoot on Mykonos in two months.
Dimitrios even had his own yacht that would serve as transport to the island and also living quarters during the shoot which would only be four days.
"So you will be with Marco for the film festival," the Greek photographer asked.
Lyssa smiled, "you know its nothing serious. He asked as a favor."
Dimitrios chuckled," Lyssa's favors. What do you get from this I wonder?"
Marco was a film producer of moderate fame. He owned a very nice yacht as well. The yacht was currently in Monaco, his private plane would be transport to Monaco. First things first though, business then playtime. Lyssa said goodbye now that she all she needed. She had taken note of which suite he'd been given and finished her coffee then thanked Dimitrios and made her way out. It was late morning and there was alot of waiting to do. She needed to stop at an internet cafe though.
Two blocks away she stopped inside and paid for an hour of time. Lyssa had forwarded all of her phones and emails to one central account, by using a public access, it was a special loophole that didn't allow any tracking programs through. Over fifty messages were stacked all demanding her to contact the office and Dannigan. The last round of messages were different, subject line read "Princess in the wind, call office."
Princess was the radio callsign for the first daughter, Porkchop- the President and Pickle for the First Lady. The callsigns had been around since the Secret Service started using portable radios for each agent on the security detail. If the First Daughter really was in the wind then there was going to be serious hell to pay, starting with the team of agents assigned to her and the girl's handler. That wasn't her priority, besides she hadn't seen her. Didn't expect to either. Somebody else would handle that situation, she didn't babysit anyway and had more important things to attend to. On that note she left to get started preparing for the evening.
Beth was having a ball. A little ecstacy went a long way and she was dancing with the best now up by the dj booth. An older guy tried to slip into her dancing clique but the younger men had easily shielded her, after a couple of minute he backed off. She managed to slip out for a few hours to rest and eat then was back on the platform strutting and shaking in front of the dj.
an hour later when the next dj took the booth, he waved her down. They stepped out into a hallway then into a side room containing boxes of liquor and a small bed. The Dutch dj guided her down then gripped her panties and yanked downward as she struggled to reach for his pants. He took charge and shoved his pants and boxers down then held himself steady and pushed into her.
Beth yelped then moaned,"ooooooooh....YES! can have my panties if you make me cum hard!"
The young man took up her offer and powered into her harder and faster holding her legs wide and in no time Beth was screaming from the orgasm wracking through her body. Luckily she managed to compose herself enough to push him back in time as he came. She reached down and pumped him by hand as he spilled his semen on her thighs and hips. The young man groaned in pleasure then watched as Beth slid down to the floor then took him into her mouth licking and sucking him clean. Beth picked up her panties and wrote her first name on the front and stuck them into his pocket.
"later again," he asked her.
"Oh yes, again later," she giggled stroking his length gently then gave a lurid lick and stood up to go back out to the rave.
He whistled as she stood in the doorway with her feet apart and bent over making the micro dress ride high exposing herself then stepped out. Half way down the hall she found a bathroom she could clean up in then rejoined the rave as the clock showed midnight.
The taxi let Mitchell out just down the street from the Amphitheater. Moments later, after the taxi left, he was almost inside when someone hit him from behind making lights explode behind his eyes as he fell to the ground. Lyssa dragged him to the car then manuevered him into the trunk. She secured his wrists, taped his mouth and bagged his head then she searched his pockets and pulling his PDA, passport, roomkey, wallet and some loose local money. She also took his watch, belt and shoes to bag them all then hid the bag and drove out to an abandoned industrial area.
When she stopped and shut the car off she could hear him thumping and screaming in the trunk for attention. Lyssa opened the trunk and hauled him halfway out then let him fall the rest of the way out and slam to the floor. Roughly she got him back up and over to the other end of the building and into a chair then slammed the door. His eyes were wild with fear when she yanked the head bag off and he saw her. Slowly she pulled the tape from his mouth. Mitchell launched into demands but was immediately silenced by a pistol shoved into his mouth.
His silence continued as Lyssa pulled the pistol from his mouth then turned and walked over to the table. He watched silently as she laid the gun down, turned on the laptop and selected a file. Ramon Padosa, secured to a chair just as he was. The Congressman watched the video of the blonde woman in all black and facial paint loaded a syringe and said something in either spanish or portugese then jabbed him in the neck amid his screams.
An hour of video passed as he watched the woman use a car battery and various other things to torture him then practically skin him alive. Tied to a table and a small explosive used to emasculate him and set the room on fire, the video cut out as his screams dulled from being burned alive.
Lyssa set up to record and then turned around and walked toward Mitchell, a syringe in her hand.
She said softly,"your tab is due. I've been to hell thanks to you, but where I'm going to take you is worse.......much worse."
The Congressman fought the bonds to try getting away but was held fast as Lyssa grabbed his hair to hold him still to jab the needle into his neck and press the plunger down.
"Never before have I done this and enjoyed it. I'm actually going to this time," Lyssa hissed in his ear.
Alkowitz remembered what he'd been told about truth agents. None of that instruction was going to help him he knew as first he began to feel warm then hot as the first punch slammed into his gut. When the heat left and coldness set in while pain began to amplify the vision of the beautiful blonde blurred and turned into a creature so hideous.
It leaned closer to snarl," tell me all about your contacts. The ones you use to get information you know you're not supposed to have."
CHAPTER 4
Rani nudged Nilia. Nilia watched as the disguised President's daughter snuck back downstairs with the dj, very likely to have sex again. They both noticed that she returned from the first time without any underwear on. How typical. Now was their chance. Nilia had found another way downstairs and led Rani. They waited a few moments then could hear the moans and cries of sex. Rani rushed the door, kicking it open.
The two stopped and looked behind them in confusion just as Rani's fist impacted with the dj's face, slamming him across the bed and almost taking Beth with him. Beth looked up and screamed as Nilia covered her mouth and nose with a rag. Beth went limp within moments from the chloroform. Rani picked the girl up and carried her out as Nilia led the way from the club back to their van.
Beth was dumped into the back followed by Nilia who began handcuffing and gagging her as Rani climbed back behind the wheel and drove them away to a small house high on the cliffs. As soon as they arrived they took beth inside and stripped her of make-up, the wig and dress then took several photos and emailed them to their faction's communicator. Demands would be issued within the hour.
Lyssa stood firmly still as Mitchell finally lifted his head still shaking from the pain and hallucinations. He knew from the video earlier that he must have surely told the woman everything she wanted to know, no matter what it was she asked.
"are....Are you going to kill me now," he asked meekly.
"No congressman, I'm going to destroy your friends first and then ruin your wife and when I'm done with that," Lyssa leaned in closer," I'll start killing you."
"No.....please," he begged," do it now, please. Why are you doing this?"
Lyssa looked at him coldly," Demon Wraiths. 4 years ago. I was the one Padosa couldn't break."
His jaw dropped as she simply walked from the room taking the laptop. An hour later, her creative editing done, she emailed the interrogation to the directors of the CIA, DEA, FBI, ATF, NSA, Homeland Security and Congressional Committee of investigative Actions along with the Senate Sub-Committee on internal Sercurity. She also sent out the video of his wife to 27 various media outlets. It didn't take long, the wildfire spread fast spurred on by the media.
Lyssa came into the room hours later and set down the laptop where he could see and pulled up a news website and brought up the streaming feed. The reporter announced that the Congressman's wife had been found overdosed on cocaine and also that two congressman, four senators and numerous members of the intelligence and law enforcement community were being brought in on federal indictment, treason. Congressman Alkowitz himself sought for high treason.
That was when he noticed the rope being lowered to swing in front of him. He was suprised when Lyssa took that free end and tied it to the chair instead of around his neck then started hauling him upward. A large round tub was rolled underneath and a small rod of metal was dropped inside the liquid. The clear liquid immediately began to bubble and froth around it. He knew then it was acid.
"No one comes here, you will be completely alone," Lyssa said flatly then put a loop of rope in his hand then released the tension.
The tips of the chair skimmed the surface making the acid sizzle.
"when you can't stand it anymore, just let go Congressman," Lyssa looked up with cold eyes.
Mitchell started crying as Lyssa picked up the laptop and placed it on the edge of the container on a slanted stand and turned the sound up louder. She had looped the news feed then turned and walked away. Just as she started the car she heard a loud bang then a scream. She had led him to believe that it was deep, it wasn't he would slowly dissolve into the tub but be so damaged he'd not escape. Lyssa drove out as the sun rose, going back to her safehouse.
Lyssa went in, stripped and got under a scalding shower. I t took a couple of minutes then all her feelings came to the surface. Anger, happiness, relief, disappointment and grief had her going from crying to laughing to screaming after she sank to the floor of the shower. There would always be missions. Lyssa would always take missions. It went beyond obligation or duty. it was her purpose. She wasn't just a soldier, a spy,an assassin. Lyssa was an Operator. She never know peace until she'd served her life fighting mad men. Dancing and modeling brought her joy and provided a means to be where she needed to, but there were always missions to complete. Always.
Dannigan and Madison stood there in front of the tv in his office staring in shocked horror. Lyssa had been so thorough there was no escape for the network of turncoats, traitors and fools. Already there had been twenty-four federal indictments for treason. One count of High Treason. The name Alkowitz would go down as the modern day Benedict Arnold, last known sighting was the Athens Hilton. Lyssa had not been confirmed or denied in the area, but they knew she was there. More than likely hiding in plain sight.
"Madison, try raising her again, she might answer now,"Dannigan said quietly.
Madison knew that quiet demeanor was hiding a seething rage. She went to her computer and pulled up the list. Sure enough, Lyssa's phone number for Monte Carlo was active. Madison dialed in, Lyssa answered on the first ring and waited for the transfer to Dannigan.
He didn't bother with pretenses,"I could have your fucking head for this stunt."
Lyssa gave no quarter though," The hell do you want Dannigan, I'm busy."
"Have you found the First Daughter," he asked.
"Why should I be looking for her, I'm here and she's there," Lyssa said sounding annoyed with the conversation.
"Negative Kordenay, we have reason to believe she may have went to Mykonos for a rave but she's no longer in the wind, she's captured. Move fast and get her back," Dannigan ordered," do that and I might be able to keep a lethal finding off of you for that stunt with Alkowitz. I won't even ask where the body is."
Lyssa was quiet for a few moments then answered,"oh for fucksakes.....alright. I'll see what I can do," then hung up and called Dimitrios...she needed to get to Mykonos immediately.
Book 5 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Its a Race against the clock on Mykonos, can Lyssa find the President's daughter in time? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Beth woke up and knew instantly things were about as wrong as it gets. She was handcuffed naked to a bed in a strange place. Slowly she opened her eyes and saw her own hair, not the wig and her face felt oddly clean. A man appeared in the doorway after a few minutes and looked straight at her. His look of total disgust made her want to cover herself but due to the restraint all she could do was squirm then turn her head away feeling very much ashamed. A woman walked in and roughly turned Beth to look at her.
Beth tried to cringe and asked,"May I have a blanket, please?"
"A slut like you needs no blanket, you are lucky to have a mattress to lay on! A dog like you should be on the dirt," the woman said loudly then slapped her bringing a yelp from Beth.
She debated for a moment about yelling out who she was then decided against it. One of the Secret Service men had told her before,' unless they call you by name, don't tell them who you are. Don't offer anything and most importantly; don't give up. Somebody will come for you.' Beth silently apologized for pulling such a disappearing act and being caught by the wrong people. She then sent a prayer for whoever was looking to find her very soon.
"Please hurry,"she whimpered to herself.
Dimitrios answered Lyssa's call on the fourth ring, and she wasted no time asking for the favor. she needed to get to Mykonos fast. He didn't understand why but told her the plane would be ready when she arrived at the private terminal. True to word, the lear sat on the tarmac waiting and the pilot greeted her then took her bags to the plane personally. The flight took an hour and she was met at the terminal by a local partygirl who virtually knew everybody worth knowing and more importantly knew everything that happened within minutes of it happening. Simply known as LaLa, she was THE premier party person on Mykonos. if it had anything to do with a club or house party Lala was the one to know and best of all, she owed Lyssa.
LaLa squealed and hugged Lyssa,"I thought you would be with the pretty people in Monte Carlo, don't tell me you are finally running away from all that?"
Lyssa laughed," No my sparkly friend, but we need to talk, let's go."
Outside the terminal LaLa pointed to multi colored car and got in.
Lyssa chuckled shaking her head joined her, "Lala...the car is definitely you."
The Mykonos party girl giggled as they drove to the address Lyssa gave her. LaLa looked at her friend then drove to a place just back from the cliffs and followed Lyssa inside after being waved in. Lyssa opened her carry-on, pulled out a laptop and booted up. The partygirl looked confused as Lyssa worked fast but watched quietly.
"LaLa, what parties and raves are happening right now," she asked.
"A bunch of parties, its Mykonos, there are always parties Lyssa but only three raves, there were four. I guess you could call one a rave, it was only for one night and the music was blah...." LaLa rolled her eyes in disgust," why?"
"I'm looking for a rave that would draw an international crowd, a girl might have gone missing from it," Lyssa said.
"Oh I know it, the dj a girl had been with got beat up. he even has her purse still, I think he's in love and hoping she gets in touch," Lala exclaimed.
"Ok, I need to know if he got any pictures of her," Lyssa said.
"Oh they are all on his Twitter page," Lala gave her the website and watched as it loaded quickly then pointed out the girl, "that's her. She's ok looking, but would look better with blonde or pink hair."
"Damn...that's the girl alright. LaLa, I have to find her, it's important. Lala.....this is important like you wouldn't believe," Lyssa fixed her with a hard look.
The partygirl squirmed for a minute, "Ok Lyssa, chill, I'll find out if anybody saw anything."
A few phone calls spoken in party code later and LaLa caught her attention," a blue van......sharks painted on the side, blacked glass, wagon wheel rims and took the northern road."
Lyssa found then ran satellite footage and found the van leaving the rave. She backed up and saw three people. Zooming in more, a brunette girl being carried by a dark haired man followed by another dark straight haired woman. Lyssa scanned forward through the archive and tracked the van to the northeastern part of the island then watched that site until the satellite orbit shifted out of frame. she'd found her. Lyssa's phone rang then, it was Dannigan.
Lyssa wasted no time, "I'm not alone."
"Any luck yet," Dannigan asked point blank.
"I think so, I'll find out shortly. It'll be dark in an hour. I'll go look personally,"Lyssa said flatly.
"Ok. There's an aircraft carrier battle group in the area. Let me know when you something,"Dannigan said signing off.
Lyssa hung up her phone then stripped out of the white dress and sandals. She then pulled on the black one piece outfit and boots then picked up a black backpack. LaLa looked very puzzled at her friend as she readied herself. the outfit looked as if it had been sculpted to her very body and went up her neck almost to the jaw. Guns and a few other went into the backpack Lala didn't see too clearly.
"Let's go find a girl," Lyssa said walking to the door.
Lala blinked then walked out and got behind the wheel. As they set out for the other side of the island Lala thought to herself, 'something is very wrong. This isn't normal for Lyssa. She is a ballerina and a model, so why does she look so scary right now?'
Dannigan cradled the phone as Madison stepped in with some files.
"Did Lyssa find her," she asked.
"Maybe," he answered," she isn't confirming or denying anything. she's not sure."
"Translation: she's going to wait til she has the girl before saying where she is," Madison asked pointedly.
"Pretty much,"Dannigan replied,"Lyssa's smart not to do the 'get people's hopes up thing'. she's not gonna gives a false hope. For her it's a sure thing or nothing."
Madison stepped out and after closing the door she sent a silent prayer out,"Wherever you are, find and bring that girl back safe."
CHAPTER 2
Rani spoke to his communications man in the Philippines, "Have you sent the pictures and the demands?"
"Yes, but the power has been out because of the storm so I don't have the answer yet," the man answered.
Rani spout off several curses then demanded the man contact him as soon as he had the response. One thing was for sure though, no one knew where they were. He went in to check the girl once more. He held her face tightly as he looked into her eyes then was satisfied she was acceptable he turned and left the room, slamming and locking the door behind him again. Still no one knew where the girl was, and if tracked the messages would lead them to the Philippines and not the greek island. They'd foolishly search for years and never know.
Their plan worked so well he was almost laughing. The stupid girl's classmate who had suggested the tricks and got the tickets to Mykonos and even helped with the disguise was actually his own cousin. A plant, so far she had been questioned twice and played dumb well. The agents didn't suspect her at all and she was able to keep him well informed. This operation had been practically flawless. They would still succeed despite the american claim of not negotiating. The government would negotiate for the return of the President's daughter. The ultimate bargaining chip for everything. Rani laughed to himself, before she would be released she could provide him some additional entertainment as well, just to flaunt to them he could do as he wished.
Lyssa had Lala stop the car half a mile away from the suspect house and hide. The partygirl watched as Lyssa applied black, dark grey and light grey color to her face in a complex pattern of swirls. Lala was mesmorized as skillfully painted her face without a mirror. The pattern was both beautiful and frightening. It was more than obvious that Lyssa had done so many times. A black bandanna as a dew rag concealed her blonde hair in the dark.
"Stay here. I'll call you when I'm coming back so you will be ready," Lyssa told her.
The Mykonos girl watched, still enthralled, as Lyssa took out a harness and slipped it on. Two holstered pistols along the sides of her thighs and a strange looking knife down the back of her right thigh, another knife hung upside down on the left shoulder strap along with grenades on both. Pouches for pistol magazines circled her waist except for a small bag at her back. A coiled rope went over her shoulder as she slipped into the dark night.
Carefully she worked her way in, taking her time and searching well for alarms and booby-traps. She neutralized several trip wires and finally made her way to the wall. Like a living shadow she started slowly peering into windows. No sign of the girl on the first floor but it appeared that the hostiles numbered only four. Outer security wasn't a concern to them. Climbing up a tree beside the wall gained her access to the roof and the ability to lean over and check the windows on the second floor.
After two windows Lyssa hit pay dirt...Beth lay handcuffed naked to a bed. She looked mildly roughed up but not severely abused. Bad news; the window had both an alarm and anti-personnel device on it. Good news; both were amateur. Lyssa didn't see the need to take chances though. This would take some finesse, but first the girl had to be made to sleep. Lyssa started gently pulling tiles from the roof, listening carefully for any clue that she'd been detected. Within a few moments she had an opening big enough to slip through. after tying off a rope to the chimney she silently released a mist above the girl.
When her breathing had become rhythmic Lyssa slowly lowered herself into the room and picked the cuffs then stepped back. It took only a minute after Lyssa stepped to the window and disarmed the grenade wired to the window sill and bypass the alarm. Lyssa owned the room and secured it by wedging the chair at the door after filling the lock with epoxy resin. She listened close to make sure things were still as they were downstairs. All sounded casual so she continued, dropping the retrieved rope out the window and lowering the unconscious Beth to the ground. Lyssa then wired her own explosives to the door and climbed out the window.
Once on the ground Lyssa pulled the rope free and recoiled it. She picked Beth up in a fireman's carry and slowly moved away. Lyssa was almost to the car when she grabbed her phone and hit the redial.
Lala answered on the first ring ,"Lyssa what's happened?"
"Get the car started, I'm almost there,"Lyssa said quickly.
The headlights immediately came on and Lyssa ran faster. LaLa saw her coming and jumped out to open the back door for her.
Lyssa eased Beth down onto the back seat then jumped in, "Go Lala...go. Get us to a west beach fast!"
The partygirl did exactly that as Lyssa made a call.
Dannigan's heart finally started beating and his brain kicked into high gear.
He called out, "Madison, get a ping on Lyssa's phone fast, then connect me to the Ronald Reagan battlegroup! She got her!"
Madison let out a whoop and started typing on her computer. A moment later she called out the coordinates then started dialing. It took a few minutes, but she had the captain of the aircraft carrier on the secure line and announced it.
Dannigan snatched it up and spoke fast, "Captain this is a national security matter. The First Daughter has been located. Currently en route to an extraction location. This is a 'hot extract'. Get a Pavelow or a Seahawk with SEALs in the air now. Also two Hornets to do some dirt work....my authorization code is 'Texas Vermillion' Captain."
The Captain verified the code phrase and came back on the line, "Ok whoever you are. Code checks out. I'm scrambling the crews now where do I send them?"
"Mykonos Captain, pick up will be the western beach. The dirt work is this location," Dannigan relayed the coordinates of the only building in the area Lyssa had been in.
The Captain acknowledged the coordinates and gave clearance to the aircraft launching off the deck. Dannigan relayed the beach coordinates for the extraction team along with status; one friendly, unconscious, after receiving those same coordinates from Lyssa who confirmed them. He kept the line open and Madison stood by his desk while they all waited.
Lala heard planes streak overhead but kept driving, they were almost to the beach.
Lyssa looked to the frightened partygirl and said calmly," doing good LaLa...just get us to the beach."
"Ok," she stammered but drove on.
Lyssa reached around and found a sparkly dress and started putting it on Beth, "LaLa I owe you a new dress but don't worry, I'll get something really special to replace this one."
She simply nodded trying not to wonder why her beautiful model and dancer friend was wearing all black with guns strapped to her thighs and having her drive an unconscious girl to the beach in the middle of the night. There were things about her she didn't know and they were very scary to her. The beach came into view of the headlights so Lala stopped before getting stuck in the sand. Lyssa climbed out and took the sleeping girl with her.
"Lights off Lala and just sit tight. I'll be back soon," Lyssa instructed her.
Lala nodded then watched her walk off into the dark again. A couple of minutes later she could see two chemical light sticks begin to glow down on the beach.
CHAPTER 3
"Camelot, this is Pongo. Approaching target, confirm weapons orders," the lead pilot of the two F-18 Hornets called in.
"Roger Pongo, You are both cleared for weapons release, time on target," the operations center answered.
"Copy that Camelot, Weapons are hot, acknowledge Bones," the flight leader confirmed.
"Roger Pongo, weapons hot, tally ho" the second pilot answered.
The flight leader sighted in and relayed the target zone to the second.
"Time on target Pongo," the operations center confirmed.
"Roger Camelot, Fox three," the leader called out as he fired the missile," go get 'em Bones"
"Roger Pongo, targeted and....Fox three," the second announced as he fired his missile.
They orbited the ruined house once and confirmed destruction then turned back for the carrier, passing the helicopter as it began its approach to land on the beach.
Lyssa held up the two glowing chem-lights and directing the Seahawk down to the sand then knelt with her arms crossed over her chest. Beth lay at her feet, asleep. The Navy SEALS bailed out and ran toward Lyssa fast.
"Let's go," the team leader said as he bent down to pick up Beth.
"She goes, I stay, get gone SEAL," Lyssa said then turned and started walking away.
The SEAL called in,"Camelot this is Posse, confirm extraction package."
"Posse, extraction of one, status unconscious. Do you copy," the operations center asked.
"Copy Camelot. Posse is extracting one, unconscious," The Seal Leader said then signaled the team back to the Seahawk.
They loaded in and lifted off as Lyssa disappeared back into the darkness.
Dannigan reconnected as the captain of the carrier announced that the girl was now onboard.
"Thank you Captain. I'd advise you to contact the White House...the Man will be anxious to hear she's been recovered," he disconnected from the carrier and reconnected to Lyssa's phone, "I can't believe it, you pulled off a miracle."
"Anybody escape the location," Lyssa asked.
"No, they're done....well done to be exact," he answered.
" We still got issues," Lyssa asked coldly.
"Pull shit like that again, we will. Enjoy monte carlo," Dannigan said then disconnected leaning back in his chair.
Madison stood in the doorway, "she did it. She found her and got her safe."
"Yeah, well don't forget that not even twenty-four hours prior she executed a United States Congressman. Granted he was guilty of treason, he was still a Congressman," Dannigan pointed out.
"Let me ask this," Madison posed to him," if she simply just turned over the evidence, what would have really happened to him?"
"He'd have been removed from office. His wife probably still would have overdosed, but he'd have pulled in beaucoup favors, used his money and connections probably to serve time under house arrest," Dannigan said flatly, "None of that is the point Madison. Yes Lyssa saved the taxpayers a fortune on a trail for treason that he would have gotten a slap on the wrist for because he's connected. He was still an elected official and just because she is out there in the shadows doesn't mean she has no oversight."
Madison stood silently thinking.
Dannigan continued," remember this well. What she did was wrong, ethically, morally and legally. It all boils down to this; there was no lethal finding against Alkowitz."
"Yes sir," Madison answered.
"Madi, I've been dealing with things like this a long time. Politicians sell out everyday; money, another term in office, comforts, influence and clout. It runs the gamut Madison but nothing changes; without a lethal finding we can't take lethal action," Dannigan explained.
Madison looked down," doesn't sound right sometimes though."
Dannigan sighed, "does it suck, hell yes. Do I personally hate it, yes. On a personal level can I find fault with her actions, no. Its not about being personal. Ego has to be omitted from the equation or we become worse than them. Can anybody prove she did what she did; no. She covered her ass, and ours, very well. So I can't officially pursue it. Unofficially, I won't pursue it. It was personal for her. With his death its done and I have no doubt in my mind that he is indeed the deadest son of a bitch on the planet. So that being said and done, we move on. Since its the end of the day; we go home."
Dannigan shut down his desk and picked up his jacket, tie and briefcase, "have a good night."
"Good night Sir," Madison echoed as she herself collected her things to leave.
"Mr. President, the captain of the Ronald Reagan is on the hotline,Sir," the military operator called over the intercom," you WANT to take this call Sir."
Confused he answered,"Go ahead Captain."
"Mr.President, we have your daughter on board now. She's being seen to by the doctor and is asleep. She appears to be fine, will know for certain in a few minutes Sir," the captain reported.
"DO WHAT? HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET ON THE REAGAN," the President jumped out of his chair causing everyone in the room to freeze in place.
He shouted, "Everybody drop what you're doing; scramble Air Force One. We're going to Helicon Air Force base, Greece. Wheels up in thirty minutes."
"Mr.President we can't.."the head of the Secret Service detail began.
"NOT ONE MORE WORD," the President yelled, "In fact there will be NO Secret Service at all on this trip. General....get me a detail of SEALS, Delta troopers and PJ's. Full combat gear and meet us at the plane. Any attempt by Secret Service to board the plane, their orders are to shoot on sight!"
The President stormed from the Oval Office. The Agent of the Presidential Detail reached for his phone when the JSOC Commander stopped his arm.
"Hold on there son,"the general said.
"Tantrum or not we have the job to do," the Agent reminded.
"Not this time. And to be honest, you know your entire detail is being reassigned. Yes," The general asked.
"Reassigned my ass," The Agent retorted.
Just then his phone rang, a text message. The message was short;
entire detail report immediately to the office of the Director.
The Agent swore loudly then looked to all the protective detail Agents and signaled them to follow.
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa spoke quickly to the main designer at Yves St.Laurent, Karl Lagerfeld, as her friend LaLa gaped, "Karl I need a dress. Size 4, super sparkly, backless, lots of pink, purple and blue. A dress a girl at a rave would wear. Uber sexy Karl. Pretty please for me," Lyssa talked sweetly over the phone.
After a laugh she thanked him and hung up after giving LaLa's name and address.
"Just like that," Lala asked stunned.
"Just like that, with conditions of course," Lyssa added," Lala you know people owe me favors. I do favors and have favors done for me. This is one of those favors. You've now done one for me now and that makes us even. What you saw and heard. Didn't happen. Ever. Forget it all."
The party girl considered that for a moment then shook her head," no Lyssa. Not even. You kept me from being drugged and taken away by those guys a year ago. This girl you went for, she had the same problem. I won't say anything, ever. You're my friend."
Lyssa knew she had always wanted a designer dress and now she was going to get it. Contrary to her image, the partygirl was actually poor and had very few things. she had established a good reputation as a party girl and her presence ensured high attendance; which is how she made what little money she had. LaLa had no problem whatsoever keeping her friend's secret, and said so.
While she was in the bathroom of the villa Lyssa logged into one of her swiss accounts and transferred several thousand euros to the account held by Lala. A frown crossed her face when she saw the poor girl had a single digit amount of money before the transfer.
Lala emerged from the bathroom," you need to go back to the airport now?"
After leaving they stopped at a local cafe which Lyssa paid for breakfast and left a generous tip and dropped a large denomination euro-note into Lala's bag without being noticed.
Lyssa whispered," the dress isn't the only gift. You'll find out later."
She hugged her friend goodbye then boarded the private plane bound for Monaco. The attendant asked to serve her and Lyssa asked for fruit juice and a cup of coffee. She laid down on the couch falling asleep quickly.
The different feel of things brought Beth to full wakefullness, especially the southern drawl from a woman. Beth opened her eyes and looked around then felt the room move slightly and whimpered thinking it was whatever had been given to her.
"Oh you're awake now," a woman in a khaki uniform stepped close and peered at her, "I'm Commander Newellton, a doctor here aboard the Ronald Reagan. You're safe I promise."
Beth started sobbing and hugged the Naval officer," thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The ship's Captain entered the exam room but was immediately waved to stop by the medical officer.
"I'm sorry Miss, but I have to ask some questions," Commander Newellton tried to comfort the emotional girl," I had to take a rape kit on you. There was evidence of intercourse but no semen. Please be honest, were you raped by your abductors?"
"N..no..I had sex with a dj at the rave, but the people that took me didn't do anything like that. They just handled me rough and slapped me a couple of times. They didn't.....hurt me like that," Beth stammered out.
"Are you sure Miss? I have to ask for the official record," the Commander asked directly.
She nodded.
"I wasn't raped Ma'am. Can we keep it quiet though? My dad's gonna go ballistic that I'm not a virgin," Beth asked.
"Sorry Miss, it has to be official," the Commander explained as she made the note of consensual sex prior to abduction.
"The ship's captain is waiting to see you. Are you ready for a minute or two of the formality," She asked.
"I'm on a ship? Do I have ask permission to board or something like that," Beth asked unsure of what to do.
"No request necessary Miss," a decorated man stepped into the room nodding to the medical officer then stepped in closer and offered his hand," Randall F. Dalton, Miss. I'm the captain of the aircraft carrier Ronald Reagan."
"Thank you for finding and rescuing me Captain," Beth shook his hand.
"About that.....we didn't find you. Somebody else did and called for us to pick you up. Do you remember who they were," He asked.
"I remember wanting to go home and saw it get dark outside. I got really sleepy after it got colder in the room and then I woke up here," Beth recalled then looked confused, "you mean some SEAL guys didn't come get me? They're like, really sneaky right?"
"They are miss," the Captain assured her," but they just met you at the beach. We actually don't know how you got there. We think there was a woman there with you, an American, but we don't know for certain. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?"
"Sorry, no," Beth murmured confused," I never talked to any Americans around me the whole time. They might have figured out who I was."
she sat confused then asked,"Captain when can I go home?"
"The President is on his way. We'll fly you to Helicon Air force Base in Greece to meet him there. When you get back to Washington he will insist you go to the hospital to be thoroghly checked out even though Commander Newellton is a more than capable doctor and with HER permission we'll send you to get you properly cleaned up and presentable to meet your father," The captain explained.
Beth looked to Commander Newellton who nodded then nodded to the captain who exited the room to secure the needs of Beth before her departure. A few minutes later Beth was taken to a state room and given what she needed to shower. when she got out an Ensign waited to help her with hair and make-up. The Ensign also gave her a change of civilian clothes and shoes commenting they were close in size. Beth quickly got the young woman's name and mailing information with the promise of sending her very nice replacements.
Air Force One had never seen such heavily armed contingent before, but likewise had never launched a flight that had not been pre-planned a month prior. The President struggled not to be a backseat driver as he managed to keep himself sitting at his desk onboard and worked. Another call from the Reagan had him even more puzzled. Somebody had located and rescued the First Daughter then delivered her to an extraction point to be picked up by the Navy. Who and how were the questions. None of the intelligence agencies had a clue and those directors wouldn't lie.
Apparently there were resources available that weren't exactly at his command. Not suprising now that he thought about it. Such resources were classified above his clearance due to deniability. Super dark black ops. The kind that idiot Alkowitz couldn't compromise when he was selling out agencies and military strike teams to a coke lord. The kind that probably took him out since neither he, nor his body has been reported anywhere in over three days.
Beth watched as Air Force One landed and taxi'ed to a stop, drowning out the irate Ambassador arguing with Air Force MP's securing the flight line. Though traditional that the U.S. ambassador to a host country greet the President on his arrival, orders had been issued that all formal protocols were temporarily suspended. Only military personnel were to be on line to deliver the First Daughter, who would be immediately flown out. It was not a political or social visit of any kind and every agency except for DOD were in the doghouse as far as the President was concerned.
Beth ran up the stairs and slammed straight into her father's arms who guided her into the plane.
He got her settled and called to the pilot, "Colonel I have my girl. Let's go home."
The flying symbol of U.S. presence turned and immediately took off heading west. A mid air refuel tanker standing by off the coast of England.
Lyssa opened the box on Marco's yacht. Inside were evening gowns, party dresses and swimsuits along with pumps and sandals to coordinate.
"Those all look beautiful Lyssa," Marco commented appreciatively.
Lyssa nodded," very, The gowns are loaned but the rest i can keep if I want to."
Marco laughed," more favors. Lyssa's favors. One day I think you may call in all who owe you and rule the world."
Lyssa kissed his cheek as she passed to hang the clothes up," not yet. Next month maybe."
Marco shook his head laughing as he went to answer a call, starlets and lingerie models be damned; he had Lyssa Kordenay as his date for the whole film festival. Favors for favors; She would be his date, she would collect on that at a later date. The wardrobe she would wear would garner attention for a designer she knew in London and in return she would get to keep certain items and be owed a favor. Lyssa had smirked at the mention of some starlets and models being paid for their company. She had even made the statement," money is for working. You can do me a favor one day." He had no problem with that.
Book 6 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Monte Carlo is a city of glamour, but can Lyssa find a mole among all the beautiful people? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa took her escort's hand to steady herself as she stepped from the sleek cigarette boat onto the ornate dock, her evening dress faded from dark grey to cobalt blue to almost white with seed-like crystal beads scattered across the white skirting very much like the ocean's surf along the beach and reflected more light as the staccato of flashes from the event photographers took pictures of the celebrated producer with the moderately known model.
The producer,Marco, was widely known for heart-wrenching dramatic films also for not dating actresses at all had occasionally been seen with semi-well known models while avoiding those that predominately modeled lingerie. Marco liked people that possessed vision and Lyssa was one who believed in vision being very selective in her modeling, choosing what she wore and for whom she wore it like the dress she wore now.
The Storm-Water dress on loan from a little known but incredibly talented English designer and friend. Tonight was the premier of a highly anticipated musical of a woman searching the sea for a lost lover. Tomorrow night would be Marco's premier and she would steal the limelight of the carpet for her friend by wearing an even more striking creation, the Skyfire gown would be perfect for Marco's tale of a pilot racing home to attend the birth of his second child and remembering all the events leading to the current journey.
Only the producers and director and editors knew exactly how the film ended; a secret to be revealed at the premier. they could all hardly bear the wait. Anticipation was a wonderful thing sometimes, but Marco was being an incorrigible git teasing everyone about the true ending. Lyssa had ended his teasing the day before while they strolled pool area of the grand hotel by whispering very erotic suggestions into his ear then remarked at the emerging effect inciting him to immediately dive into the pool then find her smirking at the pool's edge while many others looked on in curiosity. Some were rather quick on the up-take and realized the exchange with a giggle or two. That had put an end to his taunts though revenge was promised after his premier.
Paparrazzi and the more fabled Glitterazzi lined the carpet vying for their attention with shouted compliments and attempts for any remarks. A scandal monger yelled out the question where was Marco's last romantic interest to which Marco smiled and turned to look at the woman in question walking up with the star of his film making the gossip columnist look sheepish for a moment. A round of cocktails inside to take up the remaining arrival time of the other celebrities then they all proceeded inside to watch the new film. they both chuckled to themselves as more than one up and coming starlet disappeared from sight for several minutes in the dim light, having a box seat in the theater afforded an excellent view of both the screen and the audience.
The President fumed at the director of the Secret Service. A girl not even 17 had outwitted all the intelligence agencies and law enforcement services except one and the one was playing mystery men by not coming forward. Security clearances be damned, he wanted to know firstly how she managed to elude them all and secondly how was she found and by whom.
The strangest thing was Beth had only one person in confidence of the plan and now that girl was missing, a Philippine classmate and it seemed that the questionable girl had been considerably backstopped but a more pointed investigation reveal small holes in the legend that once scrutinized became deep. The CIA were currently investigating the leads in the Philippines and the FBI were investigating the people here in the states. He needed the team that had found Beth to head this investigation up but nobody knew who it was and if anybody did know they weren't telling.
"Damn it Bob just level with me, who found my little girl," the President demanded of the National Security Advisor.
"Sir i have asked everybody. I even questioned the captain of the Reagan and all I have is that whoever it was that called it in had a clearance so high the list of people with that clearance is higher," the Advisor answered,"hell he probably lives at the new area 51 location or he's in the basement downstairs. All i know is nobody is gonna take credit because you'll demand it be backed up and that ain't gonna happen by the real people."
"I'm the President damn it if anybody should know, it should be me," he steamed on.
"After that fiasco with Alkowitz nobody in the DOD or alphabet soup want anything to do with politicians....President or not," The Advisor reminded him. "Don't go there," The president said sharply," its not the same thing."
"Isn't it," he asked then continued," you'd use clout to bully your way for information that you have no business knowing? just like Alkowitz did? cause if you are you might as well get up and walk out now."
"whoa," the president slammed his fist to the desk," don't talk to me like that."
"I can and I'm doing it because I have to. The line is drawn in the sand. you don't have the clearance and any inquiries outside of channels could result in operators being burned, do you want to go down as a president that committed treason," the Advisor leaned in close and asked,"So you better think about it. Impeached is one thing; prison and death sentences are another."
"Hell we don't even know who told the press about Alkowitz either," the President sighed.
"I'd say it was somebody extremely pissed off that he snooped in on one or more of their ops, now that we know; the list is extremely long from the staff here to damn postal service," the Advisor admitted.
"In short the number of people with an ax to grind is too long, we may never find out who did him in," the President asked.
"that's it....point blank and period, he's off the grid and a sure bet that he's been eliminated,"The Advisor admitted.
The President sat for a moment then nodded and dismissed everyone. Alone he sat and thought, it seemed so out of place to be told no about something. Usually the answer 'yes but give us a little while to sort it out'. Treason was a serious thing; no President had ever been accused of it. Then again, most presidents knew when to accept no for an answer. He should work on that himself.
Dannigan stared at the computer screen and muttered," so much for a quiet week."
It seemed a project at DARPA had been compromised. DARPA projects ran from new menu MRE's- Meal-Ready-to Eat to tactical aircraft. even satellites for recon and communication. basically if it had a military or intelligence application they created it or funded it with oversight.In short, DARPA played umbrella more than anything else and right now one of their projects had been stolen; a new helicopter turbine schematic. a turbine that could run on vegetable oil and outperform standard turbines using JP-7. Initial testing had been more than promising.
Dannigan wasn't an aerospace wizard but he understood enough to see how important it was that the information be retrieved. and fast. an afternoon inquiries brought the quest to a ticket to Monte Carlo.
"Madison...is Lyssa still in Monte Carlo at that film festival," Dannigan asked through the intercom.
"Yes Sir and she seems to be stealing the red carpet away from all those actresses. Her date is a real dreamboat and a half," Madison chuckled back.
"Simple 'yes' works for me Madi. send a message for her to make contact; an important one just came down the pipe," he said dryly.
"Will do but she might take her time, he's gorgeous and a movie producer," Madison giggled.
Dannigan shook his head, if it was the same producer he thought it was there was nothing to really worry about. Favor for favor at least that's how she explained most things like that.
CHAPTER 2
Jasmine tried to stay calm as she answered the customs agent,"my visit is vacation, nothing to declare."
The agent nodded then stamped the passport,"Welcome to the Principality of Monaco, enjoy your stay."
"Thank you," she said then collected her things and made her way through the terminal stopping at the news stand. She asked for a copy of the previous day's Washington Post evening edition. The vendor reached down under the counter and brought out a copy and passed it to her. Jasmine thanked and paid the older man and walked to the concourse, sitting down she looked through until she found a small envelope containing a simply printed card instructing her to check in at Grand Casino and blend in.
She flagged a taxi outside the terminal and was at the Grand Casino in short time. a reservation had been made along with payment for a week's stay, all she had to do was check in. once in the room she noticed several bags hanging in the closet containing evening and cocktail dresses again a note card stating "blend in". Jasmine showered then made-up and dressed in the new wardrobe went down and wandered the casino after buying one hundred euros of credit chips. the occasional head turned as she wandered from table to table.
Never gambling before she felt overwhelmed. Finally she found a blackjack table a simple game she moderately knew how to play. Just get twenty-one and not go over....simple. Five minutes later her chips were all gone, the game wasn't so simple after all. She decided to just wander around more, there seemed to be something exciting going on. At least until she was contacted again. Maybe tomorrow.
Lyssa walked slowly holding Marco's hand as they meandered the pool area, wearing a vivid red monokini instead of a bikini typically worn by the eye-candy. Translation: barely there but sparkly. They were there to be discovered or in some cases, rediscovered. The established actresses were all out on yachts or in private villas during the day with the exception of being out for the purpose of being seen. Deals were made in private not public. Anybody spending more than five minutes sitting together were considered to be in negotiation for something. there had already been one surprise wedding so anything could happen at any moment.
Speaking of surprises: a message just came through, the office wanted contact, urgent. She'd call in later, right now her purpose was to draw attention to Marco and the best way to do that was to seem untouchable hence her choice of the monokini. Untouchable for her meant approachable for him and that was what she was here for. To that end a few couture designs drew attention and her attitude directed it to Marco. Nice trade out.
Favors for favors and that's how she got things done, using her contacts she could travel under the radar using private terminals via plane and yacht, attend closed door functions without being on any guest list, even go unnoticed during a lot of suspicious activities. The plan was working; a tall brunette in a skirt suit strode toward them currently. a tap of his thumb was the subtle signal, she conveniently noticed a friend and waved, Marco gave her an obvious nod and Lyssa walked over to her friend as the brunette stepped up and greeted Marco, inviting him for a drink in a cabana. A few quick words to her friend then the excuse of needing a visit to the ladies' room got her clear of the pool area and she dialed into the secure server that connected to the satellite.
Afternoon in Monte Carlo meant morning in Washington. Hopefully they'd be in the office by now.
Madison answered on the second ring and coded in to secure the line then jumped right in,"hey gorgeous. you look like you're having a blast."
Lyssa laughed and answered,"Not hardly Madi....this is work you know."
"Trade jobs.....I'll go wear the pretty clothes and honey up to the movie people and you can come do this," Madison offered.
"Won't work, I'm illegitimate...can't spell," Lyssa teased back getting a good laugh from Madison then was transferred to Dannigan.
"So good of you to call," Dannigan said dryly.
"I had a few minutes, what's so important," Lyssa asked.
Dannigan didn't beat around the bush explaining what had happened and all the details would be in her secure email, time was critical. Mission was three fold: retrieve the data, liquidate the seller and identify then dissuade the buyer, all with extreme prejudice. Lyssa confirmed her understanding and would get started immediately then disconnected.
Walking back through the cabanas Lyssa came face to face with reality in the form of captain Billy Chandler. Chandler was a Nemesis operator, quick retaliation on the ground nuke handler. Anytime a tactical nuclear device was deployed it was handled by a Nemesis operator, top operators from every branch of the military were taken out of service and their records were obliterated to conceal who they were and what they did. Nemesis operators gave up their lives to become that. No family, no friends for real, not even a CIA NOC went that extreme. They were never out of the loop. Ever. They would be watched until confirmed dead and cremated. they paid the price for freedom in a way nobody could be expected to. And here he was, here in Monte Carlo.
Lyssa went on full alert, slowly scanning the crowd. Operators don't wear signs or uniforms but their tradecraft signaled their presence, by being still and calm and very disinterested which was a deception; They would be hyper-aware and would be positioned for the best vantage points to see and not be noticed. She really started noticing then; a group of four SAS soldiers at a director's table, the SEAL with an actress, two retired FBI agents with a group of actors, a Delta trooper talking subtly with a well known action star. the MI-6 woman pretending to be a secretary reminded her to look for the intelligence agencies too.
The young woman that practically glowed in the dark wearing a full coverage standard blue bikini was all wrong, drawing smirks and sneers. She looked out of place and very aware of the fact. She marked the face well. Marco was obviously done, he slowly looked around then caught Lyssa's eye and nodded. She rejoined him and whispered that now would be a good time to return to the yacht and start preparing for the evening. Marco agreed and commenting that calls needed to be made. Dannigan needed to know about Chandler being on-site. Lyssa made sure that her walk had just a bit more swing to it without appearing intentional as they left.
CHAPTER 3
"Sir, this is a nightmare. There's operators everywhere,"Chandler informed his NSA handler.
"That's a given Captain, a lot of action movies this season and action movies need consultants thus the abundance of former and current operators, both U.S. and foreign," The NSA agent confirmed.
"Yeah and that's bad for me, we all know how to identify each other and I'm really worried about being recognized from my SF days," Chandler warned.
"Don't worry, you've got full backstopping for this then you go back into the cold. You've been out of the loop long enough to act as a consultant or a private security provider,"he tried to assure him,"Eye on the ball chandler.....find the mole that bailed with the engine specs."
"I know the mission Sir but this is different, a damn film fest and we still don't know who the mark is,"Chandler reminded. button button button, who the hell has the button.
Billy booted up his computer and started running the facial program of known agents against entries through customs Interpol agents came up quickly but had to be dismissed they weren't spying, they were pursuing drug avenues within the movie industry and possible human trafficking along with antiquity smuggling. a known MI-6 whistle blower and several retired KGB agents, retired Stazi colonel and his aid were flagged. This was going to take forever. A red carpet event would be in a few hours, maybe he'd see something indicative there; Besides just more movie people showing off.
Madison heard Dannigan swear loudly. 'not good,' she thought.
"Madison," Dannigan leaned out his door," Find out who the hell authorized Nemesis;Billy Chandler to be moving around in Monte Carlo."
Madison immediately turned to her computer and began accessing the secure networks. There were only twenty Nemesis operators in service and their activities and whereabouts were critical information to DOD and NSA. it took half an hour to get to the information; Nemesis:Captain William Andrew Chandler currently tasked to NSA operation MAD HATTER. Mission Overview:Data retrieval; DARPA project-GREEN LIGHTENING prototype biofuel powered turbine. She transferred the screen from her desk to his eliciting another stream of profanity followed by the closing of his door.
Dannigan dialed the director of the NSA who answered after several rings.
"Who in the hell authorized this operation James," Dannigan demanded. After seeing the mission overview the NSA director swore then slammed the phone down. Dannigan opened the door and leaned out,"Madi activate the Hubris protocol, find all the Nemesis operators." Madison launched the program and had the results in five minutes.
Dannigan looked over her shoulder and his mood got even worse, he returned to his office and closed the door, within moments the shouting began and continued for the better part of an hour. The Nemesis Project was about to get a complete overhaul from the sound of things. Heads weren't about to roll; They were about to be severed.
Jasmine found the envelope on the floor of the room when she returned from the pool. again the message was simple; Fountains at three am day after tomorrow. That answered that, now to get ready she'd attend the premier tonight. Too bad she had no date, its supposed to be a very good movie. She could hold it together two more days then make the drop and get her money and hide in the Caribbean forever. She took her time showering then getting made-up and dressed. a simple ankle length red sheath dress would go good tonight.
The sun was setting as she took a place along the red carpet where the spectators with tickets would be able to watch then enter after the A-list entries. She watched in excitement as the lead actor and actress made their entrance from the dock with their spouses followed by supporting actors and actresses with their spouses and escorts then the director with her spouse followed by the producer with his escort. Jasmine held her breath in awe. the producer was with the same blonde as the afternoon but she was absolutely stunning in the evening dress that seemed to be catching the evening light and taking fire against a soft blue fabric. It seemed that all of the photographers were as drawn to her as she was and after all the beautiful actresses that was saying something. The crowd started moving and she followed into the theater.
Lyssa once again stepped from the cigarette boat onto the dock and immediately the flashes began along with several ooh and aah's down the carpet. The Skyfire gown had its designed effect, her friend would be overjoyed. At the interview area she dropped the designer's name along with the name of the gown. she had intentionally went very sparse on her jewelry to not draw attention away from the gown. Her shoes and jewelry weren't on loan and therefore not going to be plugged for exposure.
The pale woman in the red dress caught her eye; she remembered her from the pool, simple blue off the rack bikini, yet a evening dress straight out of the Macy's catalogue and costume jewelry. Again, she looked very out of place. The Nemesis Operator was dressed appropriately though in an Italian suit of subdued color and tie. He wasn't here for the premier, he was searching for somebody. His posture telegraphed it loud and clear that he was hunting and it was clear what he was looking for; another operator by the way he took note of the concealed weapons under fitted jackets and attitudes that didn't belong, but he was only looking at men. That would be his undoing, forgetting women. Speaking of; the out of place tourist definitely bore closer scrutiny. Later tonight.
CHAPTER 4
The premier had been spectacular. Jasmine loved the movie and had cried at the end. Afterward was lucky enough to stand close enough to hear the woman with the producer being interviewed tell the name of the gown and its designer. Jasmine thought for a moment. With the money she was about to be paid she could buy that gown. Some designer shoes and jewelry to go with it as well.
That bolstered her spirits, she could hardly wait for the exchange now. her eyes wandered as she walked to the bar and asked for a glass of champagne, not easy to do with the rather imposing man in the dark suit beside her. A look at him gave her a chill up her back yet a very warm feeling in her hips. He was probably a stunt man. His mouth quirked at her very feminine appraisal of him. Very suprisingly he invited her to dinner. Jasmine thought to herself that he was too yummy to pass by and accepted.
The dinner was nice, he wasn't a stuntman but in personal security now on vacation after a previous evening's premier. he named off some exotic locales but no names which made sense to her. clients were confidential he explained and that sounded right to her. She claimed to be a simple assistant now hoping for a new contract hence her presence at the festival and he seemed to buy that. she flirted and teased enough to convince him to invite her back to his room which she she accepted with a very feline smile.
Lyssa had faked an excuse to miss the after party and slip back to the yacht and changed into a short black dress and grabbed a bag to put what she needed for her incursion at the Grand Casino. A quick hack of their concierge system got her the room number on the fourth floor. A wink to the VIP concierge got her the favor she wanted. Use of a room two floors above. He suspected she was having a quiet rendezvous with someone other than her current date. Good cover she thought as she quickly changed into the black fitted bodysuit and harness with silenced pistol and a few other sundries.
The window had been left unlocked and she slipped in with ease and quietly searched the room first for surveillance then for the plans. ignoring all the obvious places she went immediately for the woman's cosmetics and found the flashdrive disguised as a lipstick. Lyssa took out her small powerpad and plugged in the device and accessed it with the decryptor.
The prototype plans were there. Lyssa downloaded and deleted the plans then uploaded the device with the plans for the old JU-58 ramjet specs, the engines for the vaunted SR-71 Blackbird along with a special tracking virus just in case. She attached a tracking microdot good for seventy-two hours. Lyssa then used a micro syrette of a clear liquid that she injected into the tube of toothpaste. She quickly planted her audio bugs then quietly exited back to the borrowed room.
Back in the little black dress she made her way back out, as she passed a firebowl she snuck the used syringe and needle into the flames to be destroyed cleanly. She pretended to smoke a cigarette she obtained from the concierge to ensure nobody discovered the syringe before it was destroyed then left. She needed a nap and things could get busy anytime.
An earbud with the volume maxxed woke her when the woman returned four hours later.Chandler had apparently showed her a good time from her giggles and humming to herself confirming Lyssa's suspicion that he was looking for a male suspect than a female. A message from Dannigan told her that Chandler was being recalled. He was really going to hate himself when he finds out he slept with his target.
Speaking of the target, her phone was ringing. the crisp voice on the other end said the time had been moved up. meet in an hour. Lyssa grabbed the bodysuit and boots along with her bag and ran for the cigarette boat. 5 minutes later she tied up at an empty slip and started moving to follow the girl via the tracking dot.
Within minutes Lyssa found a building to scale overlooking the grand fountain. After waiting twenty minutes, an Asian man approached and simply asked for the flashdrive. The girl asked for payment and was given a bag in exchange for the flashdrive. They both left.
Lyssa left following the Asian to a villa on the hill. It wasn't long before she heard very angry shouting in Chinese. Lyssa set up her small silenced rifle and waited. She wished she'd had time to get her other rifle but this small caliber would have to do. The wait was short as three men and two women left to get into a car. As the car rolled back down the drive way Lyssa pulled the trigger and took out the driver.
Doors started opening but too late as she triggered again, dropping the passenger. The rest now spread out in a defensive formation as Lyssa moved in closer. She triggered off a double-tap from the silenced pistol dropping another. one man and one woman remained they took position back to back. 'Dumb move,' Lyssa thought as she triggered off a round from a silenced pistol again that passed through both. Quickly she policed her brass then set to work on the gruesome task of retrieving the slugs from the bodies and the flashdrive. she had an hour and a half of privacy before the paparazzi started setting up for the day so she climbed the outside of the grand casino and peered into the girl's room.
Lyssa observed that she lay unmoving on the floor of the bathroom. Lyssa climbed into the room and checked the body, the woman was verified dead. Lyssa retrieved her audio bugs and squeezed more toothpaste out into the toilet and flushed it away. Lyssa found and picked up the bag from the exchange and checked it. True currency. She exited with the bag and slipped unnoticed back to the yacht.
"Major," Madison buzzed the phone," incoming from Lyssa."
Dannigan opened the window and read the message. "Mission complete." Dannigan downloaded the attached data file and left to send it back to DARPA.
Book 7 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
The hunt is on for Lyssa and company by an officer from a rival agency, but will Lyssa have to turn hunter into hunted to ensure they remain in the shadows? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
Desert Butterfly
CHAPTER 1
The Director of the NSA slammed the door closed after the two men walked in then sat behind the desk.
"So tell me, which of you two geniuses have anything substantial to contribute to this operation that can only be summed up in one compound word. CLUSTERFUCK," he demanded.
The two men didn't flinch nor did they say anything yet.
"let's surmise," The director continued," You pull a dedicated deep cover nuke specialist out of the cold and send to Europe among hundreds of other known operators and agents of both friendly and hostile nations on a mole hunt. And you, the aforementioned operator; are so obviously not meant for that type of assignment that not only are you blown and looking in the wrong direction, YOU FUCK THE TARGET AND LET HER GET AWAY!!!!"
"We don't understand, who the hell knew I was there,"Chandler asked," I saw nobody that i knew on a personal basis. Everybody there i knew from dossier information and according to you and DOD I don't exist anymore so how was I blown?"
"Contrary to popular belief Captain there are agencies that supercedes this one," The director pointed out," believe it or not there are still agencies that still believe in classifications. Such as; confidential,sensitive, secret, top secret. Whoever it was that knew you were there is in an agency that hides their presence from me and before you ask, yes they can do that. You two idiots need to find a deep fucking hole to hide in because right now Nemesis is going for full review and I mean every swinging richard is compromised, so both of you. stand down and you're on leave til further notice, see my secretary for your assignments."
Taking that as their dismissal they stood and exited the room, in the outer office the director's secretary passed them each an envelope. As they stepped into the elevator chandler asked," So what now?"
"You go where they told you and wait til they say do something else,I'm going hunting. Nobody slams my operations and hides from me," The agent hissed.
"what i don't understand is how they knew me without me knowing them," Chandler complained," that they knew who the target was the whole time. Can't believe i got played like that."
"I didn't know it was a woman either but we'll feel better when I find out who it was that torpedo'ed my OP and they'll wish they'd never gone operational," The agent snarled.
Madison flipped through the tabloid and stopped to look at the pictures of the red carpet premiers in Monte Carlo. She chuckled at how Lyssa had been mean to the photographers by tilting her head down or to the side at the last second. Apparently she wanted more focus on the dress than herself, reading a caption underneath one of the photos explained it. The dresses were loaned by the designer, a favor. Favors for favors.
Dannigan peered over her shouder and commented,"Those kind of publications will rot that wonderful brain of yours Madison, next will be soap operas on your DVR and romance novels in the top drawer of the desk here."
For effect dannigan reached and pulled open the top right drawer to reveal two paperback romance novels making Madison blush and Dannigan chuckle,"Oh no....its too late. This warrants serious action Madison."
She facepalmed in mock embarassment let out a muffled,"Am I beyond salvation? is there no amnesty for this?"
"No, I'm sorry there isn't. You've been a real asset and you'll be missed....action pending: Death by BonBon's," Dannigan stifled a laugh as he set a box of Godiva chocolates in front of her along with an envelope,"Happy birthday Madi...you're done for the day, have some fun."
Dannigan went into his office as Madison opened the envelope and saw a certificate for a two day spa retreat. She practically squealed her thanks as she hurried to go enjoy the gifts. Later on at her townhouse the doorbell rang, Madison answered the door and was presented four packages to sign for. She sat in the middle of the floor and opened one from Paris that turned out to be a elegant jewelry set of her birthstone, the next package opened to be a pair of sleek stiletto heels in black patent from the latest designer The next box had her blushing and giggling as it turned out to be a very sexy set of lingerie with sheer stockings and also a peignoir and robe set in the same color. The final package contained a seductive black cocktail dress that would just barely hide the lingerie set. An envelope in the box with the dress was a card from Lyssa herself along with an autographed photo of the latest heartthrob actor just for her and in the card was several hundred dollars with the instruction that it would cover the cost of a bottle of Bollinger champagne, of a recommended year, and dinner for two at a suggested restaurant. Reservations were confirmed. Madison shrieked with delight and called her best friend for the evening's plans.
Lyssa stepped out of the jet and walked to the private terminal of Grand Cayman. The customs agent slipped a stamped slip of paper into her passport without a question as she gave him a dazzling smile then collected her bags and flagged a taxi from line at the main terminal. Within minutes the taxi pulled up in front of a house mostly concealed by landscaping and let her out. Lyssa dropped three of her bags in the bedroom but carried one to the garage. She started a low slung sports car and drove back into town. Lyssa turned down a side street to a corner building with no signs. It took only a moment to park across the street and walk across passing a couple on the walkway as she made her way inside.
"Welcome back Ms. Kordenay, how may we help you today," a man wearing a vested suit minus jacket stepped over and gestured to an office.
"Thank you Dominic," Lyssa smiled then sat as he closed the door.
When he had taken his seat behind the desk Lyssa began," Deposit today Dominic and a few payments," then set the bag on his desk.
Dominic signaled and an assistant stepped in and took the bag he nodded at then came back a few minutes later with a slip of paper and left.
"Four point seven million Euros Ms. Kordenay minus fees of five percent,"Dominic reported," what would you like done?"
"The private terminal fee, housing accounts and mail service paid then even distribution across my numbered accounts and also transfer the contents of this account into mine," she answered and then passed him a small card.
Dominic took the card and began the tasks, taking ten minutes to complete then printed up a statement which he handed to Lyssa. She stood up and thanked him then left.
CHAPTER 2
Dannigan didn't know whether to laugh or swear. Somebody was putting out feelers about Monte Carlo and the answers were to be back-channeled directly to a junior grade agent. The same one that pulled Nemesis operator Billy Chandler out of the cold. The guy had some nerve....all balls and no brains. Dannigan would give him a few more hours then deal with it. Give the jackass a shovel and he'll dig his own grave. He pulled up the list of phone numbers and emails for Lyssa. The Carribean number was active so he sent a text message: stay put for a few days, possible ripple in the pond.
A response was immediate: quit throwing rocks. Dannigan had to laugh then. Nothing changed, unless it was a crisis things could wait until she was done tanning or whatever. He may have to send Lyssa after the agent but he'd rather deal with the problem himself. He thought about of that for a moment then started checking flight plans and found two hops. Norfolk to Key West and Key West to Puerto Rico via Cayman Islands. It took a few minutes to print up the proper documents then grab his bag and lock up the office. He had 20 minutes to catch the hop. No problem.
NSA agent Jeff Tyler stared at the sheaf of papers and grew even more confused. Every agent and military operator of the U.S. and allies in Monaco were accounted for the entire time and none had any connection to Nemesis. In fact nobody there had any professional or social connection to Chandler at all. CIA, DEA and NSA communiques out of Monaco were all routine.
Until the discovery of the five Chinese agents and the DARPA file clerk...all dead from unknown sources. The agents were all shot, but no ballistic data. The clerk from an unknown toxin, after having sex with a Nemesis operator. Chandler would never recover from that but Tyler didn't care, He could still pull a rabbit from the hat. All he needed to do was verify the agent/operative from Monte Carlo. He could then bully or blackmail that agency into bringing him on-board for a nice pay upgrade. Chandler was on his own. Jeff had brought in the Nemesis operator because they were untraceable. Or so he had thought. Didn't matter, Chandler was a soldier. A disposable tool just like everybody else including the agency that blew his OP. His chance to show he could be a top agent had been sunk like the Titanic, but he wasn't done yet. Somebody knew something and he'd find out who and what and use it to launch himself into the high ranks of the spymasters. All he needed was a thread to pull on.
Lyssa relaxed in the lounge chair listening to the soft footfalls approaching across the sand,"Welcome to grand cayman Major."
"very funny Kordenay, How'd you know it was me," Dannigan asked.
"You didn't ring the bell," she replied finally turning to look at him.
"Lyssa this is rather involved...." Dannigan left the sentence hanging.
"Right.....ok," Lyssa stood up.
She wrapped a towel around herself to cover up the fact she had been tanning nude then gestured him to follow inside. Lyssa picked up a robe and slipped it on in place of the towel. She stepped behind the bar to pour a glass of ice water, offering the same to Dannigan who nodded as he opened his case and brought out a file.
That really got her attention, first he had come here unannounced and secondly not an electronic file.
Dannigan passed a photo and began,"Chandler, William. formerly of special forces now a Nemesis operator, currently on hiatus due to being possibly compromised and missing his mark in a big way....he was looking for the DARPA mole as you were but missed out and instead of apprehending or eliminating the target..he slept with her and allowed escape."
"Oh jesus, he's done,"Lyssa commented,"he'll never get out of the dog house over this."
"yeah, if he's lucky he'll get reassigned to iceland or antarctica for ten years or so,"Dannigan agreed then passed another photo.
"Who's weasel," Lyssa asked snarkily.
"He belongs to the NSA. The genius that pulled Chandler in to try for the mole, without any authorization,"Dannigan continued," Tyler...Jeffery C. grew up Richmond Virginia. Semi-old money, went to Harvard. Mediocre grades for an aspiring agent, which means outstanding for a rich kid, but there was something off. Extensive investigation into his academia was suspended by the CIA, the initial recruitment...."
"NSA went further yes," Lyssa asked.
"Yeah,"Dannigan answered," a three month deep look revealed that he was romancing grades out of two professors personally. Bribing two more and blackmailing another."
"Naturally those jackasses were impressed," Lyssa rolled her eyes.
"Everything in his background said the same thing..." He said," network from the ground up. It wasn't that he didn't have the intelligence nor the knowledge to earn the grades. He preferred get those same grades those other means. So yeah; they were impressed and brought him in after graduation."
"Figures," Lyssa passed the photo back,"so what's the story?"
"He's trying to find us, three guesses why," Dannigan answered.
"To use us or neutralize us if not both," Lyssa surmised.
"Pretty much. Even though he's been put on unpaid leave; he thinks he's off the grid enough to search for us. All he did was draw my attention faster but he's gonna have to be dealt with Lyssa," Dannigan finished.
Lyssa looked outside as the sun had begun to set for a few minutes then turned and said," First on the right. Dinner reservation is in an hour and a half. Jacket and tie required. There should have something to fit in there."
She went down the hall and closed the door behind her. That struck Dannigan with curiosity. Lyssa had dinner reservations and bringing him along wasn't a problem. Dannigan wondered what role he may have to play tonight in explanation of his presence.
CHAPTER 3
The President looked at the NSA director in confusion,"What do you mean you've got a loose cannon James?"
"One of our handlers; Tyler handles existing networks temporarily between station chief changes. He has been aspiring to move up and to that end when he heard about the theft of that new helicopter turbine design. He went John Wayne and pulled in a Nemesis operator. Together they both blew it...bigtime." the director explained.
"Nemesis? refresh my memory and then clarify on 'blew it bigtime'," the President said still perplexed.
The director did, gaining an 'Oh my god' and several other expletives of varying profoundness.
Finally with his face in his hands the President asked,"Tell me there is something good to hear today."
"The plans were retrieved, the mole eliminated, buyers identified as north korean and nobody knows who did it....not even me," the Director surmised.
"Our mystery agency again," the president ventured.
The director shrugged,"Probably but that's not the problem. The problem is my eager beaver idiot is trying to find out who they are. Best guess is: he's going to find them and either serve them up to us on a platter. Or Tyler will try to exploit them to make an advancement."
The President dropped his head to the desk. Everyone else cleared the room. once the door closed the president pressed a button that ceased all surveillance.
He asked directly," will a lethal finding need to be issued on your man?"
"Actually Sir I think we shouldn't," the director posed," If that agency is as good as they have been, they know all about what he's doing. They'll take action."
"Ok and this helps things how," the President asked.
"They make a trail for him to follow and he will. Right into the lion's den. They'll take him out and then we'll know who they are by following him," the director explained.
"you know your simple plan can backfire, they've been invisible all this time,"The president reminded.
The director nodded,"that's why I'm going to run the op myself and do things directly. no coordinated tasking."
"Bring me answers James," the President leveled,"or your resignation."
The director nodded then left.
Dannigan sat at the candlelit table with Lyssa very surprised. No date, no meeting, no plan. She had standing table reservation every night with the best view; both aesthetically and tactically. He was impressed with her, a move he would flaunt if he'd pulled it off in Washington. An intimidation tactic out of the cold war MI-6 book that if didn't intimidate; it certainly impressed the receiving party. Dannigan was the receiving party and was certainly impressed and said as much, causing Lyssa to chuckle.
As she finished her dessert of white and milk chocolate covered strawberries injected with champagne she asked Dannigan,"So what do we do about the pain in our ass?"
Dannigan laughed,"well we could ignore it or deal with it. The problem is how do we deal with it with everybody and their brother watching?"
"We make them watch somewhere else that's soooooo very interesting," Lyssa drawled.
"Where's a good place to headquarter a super-secret, mega hush-hush spookville," He snickered.
"Moab Utah,"Lyssa said idly," meanwhile the rat will follow the smell of cheese to Death Valley. However, we gotta worry about something...another NSA yahoo trying to pull out of your book and tasking things directly, his eyes and ears only."
"Oh, I'm actually hoping one does,"Dannigan smiled.
That took Lyssa by surprise. Dannigan signaled for the check to which the waiter came over and whispered that there was no charge. Lyssa chuckled and stood then walked out ahead of Dannigan.
Tyler had been searching for days when he finally found the proverbial bread crumb. A receipt of a microburst transmission. A facility designated Phantom Group 4 was the end point. More pointed digging revealed Phantom Group 4 was tasked with deep cover operators in the European theater; some including former Nemesis Operators. He'd found them! In the Moab desert, but what was this one ticket? The delivery of a flash drive to a grid point deep in Death Valley. The location in Moab had routine patrols by helicopter and fighterjets with no tail numbers. The point in Death Valley was a restricted no-fly. That was it....Death Valley. Make it look like there was nothing there and that's the place to hide. He compiled everything onto a disc and sent it to a holding company then grabbed his laptop and pistol. Now to hop a flight to Bakersfield then borrow a helicopter. These jokers would be his. He'd just make sure they thought he was going to Moab.
The NSA director laughed. Tyler had done all the hard work and now he'd bird dog, and when they took him out, the NSA would have them. Tyler would disappear into the Moab...a desert training exercise. Lost to a flash flood or better yet; a cave in while seeking shelter during the cold night. Yes, that sounded plausible. Took shelter in a cave and the fire for warmth weakened the above stone; causing a cave in. A quick call to Hollaman Air Force base brought a U-2 up for tasking. Then the re-tasking of a KH-12 and KH-14 satellites one with and one without infra-red capability. Finally a Globalhawk. Every square inch of Moab would be covered. He'd almost bit the hook about Death Valley but there were no power transmission lines to that location but the Moab location had lines pass within half a mile. That's where they were.
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa lay totally still inside the small fissure of a butte, watching through a spotter scope facing the canyon wall with a cave opening twenty meters in width and fifteen in height. She'd taken the position thirty-six hours prior and would remain for another fourty-eight. Agent Tyler should be on site within the next three to five hours unless he simply barreled in blindly, which wouldn't surprise her. More what she worried was him trying to be sneaky and find her sniper nest looking for one of his own. This was the delicate time now, she was accustomed to the area and more importantly it accustomed to her. No creatures to bolt away suddenly from her hiding place. The birds avoided the cave now deliberately and no coyote or mountain lion could climb up. Only the spiders and scorpions were a threat to her now. It was a waiting game and she had come prepared.
She had various long range motion sensors, seismic sensors, two remote controlled battery powered lights, a small hand held radar emitter, thermal scopes and the Barrett .416 sniper rifle with armor piercing rounds. Mostly it was her. Her ability to endure the harshness that would or would not mean success. Just as the sun was setting a soft beep interrupted her thoughts. A motion sensor in a cave close by had been tripped. A heat sensor in the same cave went off followed by an ammonia sensor. Tyler had arrived and went exactly where she knew he would. Now he would wait for nightfall to cover the remaining quarter mile to the large cave entrance. Lyssa drank some water then rested her eyes, it was almost time.
Dannigan again launched his decoys: a patrol of three F-15's and two F-model Predator drones along with some local dirt players on their four-wheelers and sand rails they thought they were auditioning for a movie; a sequel to the late 80's action film MegaForce. He had to laugh at that. Already there had been overflights by a U-2 and a couple of satellites had taken up a stable locked orbit. There was going to be Hell when appropriations came around. Tyler should be in the canyon by now. Lyssa would signal within twenty-four hours. Then the real fireworks would fly. Dannigan had covered Tyler's tracks for him, the NSA would think he was delayed in Salt Lake City. A neccessary thing this was...a message to other agencies; clearances were there for a reason.
Tyler smiled as he applied the dark streaks across his face and neck. The sun had long since set but the moon hadn't risen completely yet, affording him considerable darkness to move around in. He'd used a pair of shielded high power binoculars and found the cave. After dark, heat dispersed in erratic but steady patterns from it, typical anti signature countermeasure.
Jeff had found the place and now with his sophisticated kit, he would gain access and steal all the data he could to show them who was the spymaster. Gingerly and carefully he worked his way across the canyon floor, disabling the vibratory sensors just below the surface. He was impressed and stayed low to the ground to remain undetected from the low radar field which would detect anything above two feet. Not a bad set up but it had flaws and he was exploiting them. Two hours later he eased into the cave entrance and peered into the darkness. Slowly he stood up. Suddenly lights flared. High intensity lights directed outward, blinding him.
Tyler screamed obscenities as he staggered then silenced, he'd been set up. They knew he was coming and were prepared. He feel a sharp pressure then pain in his chest. A moment later he heard a rifle shot, then another pressure with pain followed by a rifle shot. His vision cleared and he looked down at his vest, the latest tactical armor. Two holes were precisely within a half inch of each other. Blood slowly dripped from them, he looked up and saw a butte in silhouette then a wink of light halfway up it. A pressure again but it was his face this time and pain was immediate. Excruciating pain as the ground rose up fast but it wasn't the ground coming up, it was him falling down.
Jeff Tyler felt the grit of sand working its way into his face. He wanted to cry out from the pain, but all that came out was a gurgle. He tried to take a breath and felt the blood go into his lungs. He was going to drown in his own blood. A coyote howled in the distance. A disturbing sound then no more sound. He couldn't hear his own heart either, which he had a moment ago. Jeff knew he'd never leave the canyon. Never be found. This was the price of a spy gone rogue.
The Director of the NSA sat in front of the President who held a single sheet of paper in his hand. After reading it silently he extended it to him. The Director read slowly then without a word signed it and handed it back and stood. The President said nothing as he watched the man walk out.
The Chief of Staff asked afterwards,"what now....we need a director of the NSA."
"Yeah," answered the President," Hopefully one that can keep his agency in check and not be stupid to challenge other agencies that are obviously higher on the predatory chain."
"I'll make some inquiries Sir," the Chief of Staff said then walked out quietly.
Lyssa held her position on her toes as she slowly turned in place. It had been two weeks since she left Death Valley. Lowering herself down she stepped forward to pirouette then a graceful curtsy. The clapping behind her didn't even make her jump.
Lyssa looked into the mirror and said without smiling, "I should charge admission, Major."
"I've paid ticket price before, when you danced,"Dannigan spoke from the doorway.
"So what brings the bad humor man to my house again," she asked picking up the towel from the ballet bar.
"Back-channeled message: there will be no more informal inquiries made of certain agencies; end message," he said flatly.
"Good," she replied," now get out of here...I need to work on my tan and have a hair appointment later. Tomorrow I leave for Miami."
"Miami," Dannigan asked.
"A favor," Lyssa replied with a smile.
Dannigan turned and left. Seeing her smile as she said the word favor reminded him of a predatory cat about to pounce on something.
Book 8 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
A favor in Miami provides a great time for Lyssa, but will strange goings-on in the Hawaiian islands spell disaster? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Madison stared at her screen puzzled. a girl flagged as missing for two years just popped up on the grid in Hawaii, but it wasn't her it was a girl from the Philippines in the customs entry photo and she was a suspect in kidnapping, human trafficking and of late the group responsible for the kidnapping of the President's daughter. Madison sent the information to Dannigan then went into his office.
"Major...."she called as she entered.
"What is it Madison," Dannigan asked.
"On your screen something strange," she explained.
Dannigan pulled up the window and studied it for a few moments then nodded for her step out. Madison went back to her desk closing the door behind her. After a moment of thought she then pulled up the list of Lyssa Kordenay's cell numbers. The U.S. number was active so she pinged it and saw Lyssa was in Miami. She made a mental note, closed out the list and waited.
Models, waitresses, dancers and attractive women in general were everywhere. Basically any female that looked good in a skirt or bikini had been brought in. The Miami International boat show was in full swing. Lyssa meandered looking around drinking a bottle of water smiling and waving to the occasional familiar face.
"Ms. Kordenay," a voice from behind asked.
Lyssa turned to see a middle aged man in a charcoal suit waving for her attention. She stopped as he stepped closer,"yes?"
"I saw you at the theater last night, a wonderful performance," he said smiling brightly.
"Thank you so much," she replied with a smile,"I'm glad you enjoyed, its a wonderful production."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded over pamphlet that opened to be the program of the production with a photo of Lyssa on the cover, the principle dancer in a pose high on her toes a look of pure seduction on her face.
He took a pen from his other pocket and offered both to her,"would you mind please?"
Lyssa smiled taking note of his name tag and wrote,' thank you, Brandon for such warm applause. am so glad you enjoyed watching us all dance. Lyssa K xxoxx', then after a moment to notice no ring she placed a print of her lipstick below her signature, a frosted berry color.
He blushed as he thanked her then made his way off leaving Lyssa to smile as she continued to wander around looking at the small yachts and boats inside the massive building. She chuckled as she passed several younger girls wearing very familiar bikinis providing 'decor' to a group of three cigarette class boats. One took notice of her then whispered to her friend who turned to look and then waved to another and directed attention to Lyssa as she slowly walked by.
The group of girls then all started clapping and looking directly at Lyssa knowing that she, herself, had modeled that same swimwear for a photo shoot in Rio recently; having seen the catalog. Lyssa stopped still, smiling and gave the girls a slow, very graceful curtsy. Someone close by asked who she was.
One of the models answered, "That's Lyssa Kordenay, she modeled these bikinis for the designer..Ana Carlucci."
A person from the crowd added,"She's a ballerina too, I saw her last night in 'Dove's Flight', it was beautiful!"
Much applause followed as she curtsied to the small crowd. "Thank you thank you. Let's not forget our beautiful and charming hostesses working here today," Lyssa said.
She turned gesturing to the girls on the boats and clapped for them followed by more applause from the crowd in support. She then picked up a beach-ball from the display and tossed it to one the girls and nodded that they should interact with the crowd, which they did tossing the ball back and forth drawing out laughter and participation from the crowd.
Lyssa slipped to the back and noticed the representative fo the company looking very disturbed.
"Now you've got real interest....after all fast boats are fun....and girls like fun....give them a few minutes then go out and start answering questions," Lyssa said with a wink then walked away with a wave to the girls.
She declined an offer of champagne from a hostess by a high end yacht cruiser but accepted a strawberry from a tray on the table. The downside to being in productions; she had to monitor her food and drink intake before the night's performance. Lyssa then walked out the large doors slipping her sunglasses down from her hair and wandered the lot with much larger boats. Her crisp white sundress reflecting much of the heat back yet complimenting her gold tan. She toured a few boats then left to relax for a few hours before the performance.
Sali got off the inter-island boat onto the dock in Kawaii and walked to the end. A bulletin board on the outside wall of the shack held business cards and flyers. she saw one with a Philippine phrase in the bottom left corner. 'Fighters of the Free'. She lifted up to look at the back, a phone number in small writing in ink almost matching the paper.
Sali wrote the number on her hand and went to the payphone. An answering machine gave an address in Philippine. She found a taxi two blocks away that dropped her at the end of a dirt road. she paid the fare then started walking and didn't stop for four miles when several men and women stepped out of the brush holding assault rifles.
Sali stood still then said clearly,"We will be free or we cannot stop fighting." They lowered their weapons then gestured her to follow. A mile further stood an old house with a few more men and women fighting hand to hand in pairs outside. She passed them by and walked inside to the kitchen where three men stood around a table of maps and papers drinking coffee.
"What news Sali,"one asked.
"Rani is dead. the house was bombed," she answered flatly,"they are all dead and the girl was rescued before."
She took a newspaper from her bag and dropped it on the table the front page showing the President along with his wife and daughter. One slammed his fist into the wall, another stormed out swearing while the remaining, who had asked the question, simply rested his fists on the table top then spat on the photo.
"We will continue, we have a plan that will work. the raw power of the earth will strike the blow for us and avenge your brother," she snarled fiercely.
CHAPTER 2
Lyssa slowly stood from her curtsy then stepped forward and took the large bouquet of roses from the man standing center-stage and dipped low for another curtsy then rose to blow a sweeping kiss to the audience. She then stepped back into the line and took the hand of the male principle as the entire cast bowed and curtsied. The curtain came down to standing ovation.
Backstage they all hugged and laughed happy with the final show the producer came out and thanked everyone and congratulated them all. As they separated to return to dressing areas the producer spoke quickly to the principles of a celebratory dinner in an hour and a half. They both nodded then hurriedly changed to go to hotel rooms to shower and dress to make the reservation.
As the main cast entered the dining room of the restaurant they were rewarded with applause as many stood in recognition. They smiled and thanked the admirers en route to the table and took their seats. Champagne was poured and a toast of praise offered after the meal as the dessert was being served.
Lyssa sipped then stood and with the remainder of her glass toasted the producer, director, male principle, and the others at the table and drained her glass with them then sat. The production would move to another city, but Lyssa wouldn't follow. The originally cast dancer would rejoin them, she'd needed to be absent for the wedding of her sister a former national pageant queen. Lyssa knew the sister as well and had been happy to dance in the production.
As a favor, of course. It had been some time since she'd been in a production and enjoyed this one as it was an original composition. She just barely managed to keep a charming composure when a high ranking but not well know drug trafficker walked into the dining room and went directly to a far table.
He wasn't on her official radar and she wasn't tasked currently, so she tried to ignore his presence. a waiter set a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it in front of her then directed her attention to the bar. The rep from the cigarette boats at the show saluted her with his own glass.
Lyssa excused herself from the table then walked slowly over to the bar with her glass.
"Ms. Kordenay as lovely in present as you are on stage. Jim Sutton,"He introduced himself.
"I remember you Mr.Sutton, Eclipse Sportmarine," Lyssa smiled,"How'd the show go for you?"
"Orders for ten boats this afternoon, Thanks to you,"He smiled.
"Mmm, not me. Those lovely fun girls in the bikinis I'd say," Lyssa reminded coyly.
"Plans for the rest of the evening," he asked.
Lyssa arched an eyebrow,"what'd you have in mind.....moonlight boat ride, Mr.Sutton?"
"Jim.....and If you'd like, but I was thinking more of a walk along the beach," he answered.
"Lyssa...." she smiled and set the glass down then walked out beside him.
"Madison...find Lyssa fast," Dannigan buzzed from the intercom.
"She is in Miami Sir," she answered immediately.
"Miami," Dannigan asked,"what's she doing in Miami?"
"Principle dancer in that production; Dove's Flight. The Miami show closed last night. Lyssa was filling in for the original dancer who's sister was getting married. In Colorado,"Madison elaborated.
"Oh. Right. Have her call in," Dannigan said.
"Yes sir," Madison answered.
A moment he buzzed back, "Madison.....was the show good,"he asked.
"Four stars in the Miami Herald," she answered.
"Wish I'd had the time...would have gone to see it," he said to himself. a few minutes later Madison buzzed in to say Lyssa was on the line.
"Lyssa? we've got something, are you committed to anything immediate," Dannigan said quickly.
Lyssa made a sleepy purr then answered,"Morning to you too Major. What time is it?"
Speechless for a moment Dannigan looked at the clock and replied," quarter of eleven, since when do you sleep that late?"
"When I'm in a good mood. That you happen to be ruining, what's up," she asked.
"Need you to head for Hawaii, you'll get a packet in L.A.," Dannigan went on," this is serious Lyssa. Your flight leaves in four hours."
"M'kay." Lyssa disconnected just as the shower cut off and Jim Sutton stepped out, toweling off.
"Morning," he smiled then looked her up and down.
Lyssa laughed,"wish I had the time but I have to leave in a couple of hours."
"I'm already late," he chuckled then started getting dressed as Lyssa watched him.
He leaned down and kissed her asked her to call him whenever she was in his area setting his card by her phone on the beside table then carefully stepped around her dress on the floor walking to the door and let himself out. Lyssa stretched languidly then got up, collected her clothes and went to shower.
Malo nodded to the woman beside him and she counted down from five then pressed the button of the small silver box in her hand. A basketball sized object suspended from a rope between two poles exploded. Cheers called out.
Sali yelled,"this is good! now we must make ready. we will need many more but larger much larger so that we will set loose the power of earth on these dogs that keep us from freedom!"
More cheering and whoops answered her as she turned back to Malo and said,"Freedom....and revenge."
"Yes. My brother, your husband. He will be avenged as we teach the Americans a vicious lesson. They have no clue what is in store. Hell of earth shall be unleashed by our hand," he snarled.
Lyssa walked through the concourse after picking up an envelope at the VIP counter. Stepping into the lounge she had to chuckle, Madison sat at the bar.
"Lyssa! Great to see you....wow nice tan," Madison greeted her.
"You look great too, that spa must have been really nice,"Lyssa answered exchanging hugs with her,"Let's get a table and catch up."
They sat and talked about Madison's birthday, Lyssa's recent production to which she slipped Madison a DVD of the closing night performance. Madison slipped her a disc saying it was the main celebration of a party then stood and gave her another hug, claiming her flight being called.
Lyssa said goodbye then took out her phone and switched it from the U.S. number to the Hawaiian number and dialed.
"Mahalo, this is Leila,"a woman answered on the third ring.
"Mahalo hulagirl,"Lyssa giggled.
"Lyssa! how are you? where are you," Leila asked then giggled.
"L.A., on my way to the big island,"Lyssa answered with a laugh.
"Cool, when does your flight leave there," Leila asked looking at her watch.
"Half an hour. Can you meet me at baggage claim,"she asked.
"No problem, fun or work,"Leila quipped.
"Why don't we see what I can get into, see you then," Lyssa chuckled.
Leila assured her she would be there and disconnected. Fifteen minutes later she walked down the jetway and boarded the plane for the first class section. After take off she booted up her laptop and ran the disc from Madison, a briefing packet.
CHAPTER 3
Leila stood in Baggage claim waiting as Lyssa came around the corner then waved. Leila smiled and wlaked over to hug her friend, "wow....you look great."
"You too. A true daughter of Pele herself,"Lyssa complimented her friend.
Lyssa caught her bag as it came around the carousel then they walked to the doors.
once outside Leila asked,"Which hotel you want to stay at?"
"I'm not staying at a hotel this time Leila,"Lyssa answered.
Leila looked at her puzzled. She knew Lyssa did alot of favors for favors and that's how she moved around the world alot. One girl joked that Lyssa might be the occasional private mistress which allowed her to drop out of sight from time to time. Once for three months leading to rumors that a discreet boyfriend may have gotten rough with her or that she had gotten pregnant.
Both were dismissed when she broke surface again in a ballet production in Australia in top form. That led to two new rumors of either plastic surgery for enhancement or the more logical: intense ballet training in preparation for the two week long production. Leila also knew that Lyssa kept a house on the big island but rarely stayed in it, mostly Lyssa lived in hotels or stayed with a friend wherever she was.
The drive out to the hillside beach house went quickly though. Puzzled Leila stayed in the car as Lyssa went inside for a moment then came back out and retrieved her bag. Leila followed her in.
"Nice place, never think it belongs to a howli girl," Leila blurted out then noticed Lyssa's side glance,
"Sorry Lyssa, didn't mean it like that."
"Its a word you grew up with Leila," Lyssa remarked flatly.
"Yeah but not nice, and especially when its a friend," she apologized.
"No sweat hun,"Lyssa said as they took her bags into the bedroom.
Leila watched as Lyssa unpacked then slipped out of the silk dress not surprised that she wore only panties under it. She wrapped a sarong around herself and tied it behind her neck then put the dress away.
"Staying long,"she asked curious.
"Not really, I have a runway show in Paris next month but nothing else on the book til then,"Lyssa replied as they went back into the kitchen and she poured two glasses of wine.
"Lys...I know you do favors for people....is that why you're here...to do somebody a favor," Leila asked bluntly.
Lyssa took a sip from her glass slowly then looked at her friend, "yes, I'm doing a favor for a very old friend. Its very important and I was asked."
"Oh," Leila replied.
"Leila I'm looking for some people. Philippino. They're not nice and are keeping to themselves," Lyssa said pointedly," I mean real low profile Leila...they're even avoiding the established Philippene settled here."
Leila thought for a moment then said,"Well not here but over on Kawaii my cousin said there's some strange stuff going on."
"How strange," she asked.
"Well you know how locals have places...secret places.....tourists don't know and aren't told about," Leila started.
"Yes and very territorial about them too, surfing and places for the kahunas to practice their native medicine, etc." Lyssa commented.
"Right, you get the idea. Well there's this one place were the local boys and girls go. You know. Its a pretty place and well, they hook up there. Its a very long road to get to it and there's a beach there,"Leila explained.
"A lover's cove," Lyssa supplied.
"Yeah,"Leila continued," well for the past month there's some Philippene guys along that road now, with guns. They beat up a my cousin's niece's boyfriend and his friend. They were taking the girls out there to go swim and...you know."
"Oh," Lyssa asked,"then what?"
"They went out there with more guys and when they came back they wouldn't talk about it but started whispering not to go back out there among the other teens. That means they had guns..serious guns Lyssa. Some of the boys out there don't play around. You know," the Haiwaiian model said.
"I get the picture,"Lyssa said,"looks like i need to get over to Kawaii."
"I dunno Lyssa, this sounds dangerous," Leila said worried.
"I can take of myself, and anybody else that comes along," Lyssa answered then took another sip of wine," show me what you know." Lyssa took out a detailed map of Kawaii.
Dannigan sat in his office as Madison walked back in smiling."How'd it go," he asked.
"Without a hitch and I got a bonus,"Madison answered brightly and held up the disc then passed it to him.
"What's this," he asked taking it.
"Enjoy, I'm heading home," she chuckled and walked back out.
Dannigan looked at the blank disc then loaded it into his computer then smiled as the opening title cleared. He reached down and took out the bottle of bourbon and poured some into a glass then leaned back to watch the ballet with a smile.
Sali looked over the devices. They had fifteen and would need more. Each the size of a large suitcase and packed with one hundred pounds of their special blend of explosives. The fishing boat sat outside the cove ready to transport them and their cargo to the main island. No one could stop them now and revenge would be theirs. She would bring the Americans to their knees then demand lives of sacrifice in return for her husband's. But first, to get the attention of the world.
CHAPTER 4
The inter-island hop took no time at all thanks to Leila's pilot friend. Lyssa lay concealed within a cluster of ferns as she watched the people moving large cases by zodiac raft to the fishing trawler just offshore. She used her rifle's scope to view closer then activated its camera feature. After plugging a cable to it from her laptop to her phone. She took several stills then uploaded them to Dannigan.
a few moments later a message came back. He'd brought an attacksub from Pearl Harbor up on tasking. The trawler would be boarded by SEALS once out of sight. A detachment from the original Naval Security Coordination Team were currently running exercises at Pearl Harbor. The vaunted and notorious Red Cell were back in business. Disbanded for conducting entirely too realistic simulations, they had humiliated too many Admirals for their incompetence and beauracracy. They "played beyond rough." The SEALs had not only "blown air force one off the map", they had also successfully penetrated Camp David and "leveled the Presidential Cabin". The Commander paid the price for stressing such realism with a serious witch hunt, followed by a dog and pony show trial. This was good news for her though, she needed serious bad boys for these fanatics. These SEALs earned respect by bodycounts and damage. They'd enjoy the chance to do what they truly did best; take out terrorists.
The group finished Loading the cases and pulled the raft aboard. Not good. They were leaving several behind at the shack. She heard the roar of the trawler as it started then slowly powered out of the cove. It appeared destined back to the big island. Lyssa dialed out her scope further and scanned slowly.
She found it. The periscope of the trailing sub. That was in their hands now. She watched them for fifteen minutes then set a charge on her equipment set for four hours then slowly moved in.
Sali smiled coldly. The boat was well on its way now, underway for an hour. They would contact her in the morning after completion of the setting of the explosives at the volcano. Four would give their lives to place the charges at the weakened wall and unleash the lava.
A muffled sound outside drew her attention, likely one of the clumsy men stumbling around outside looking for a place to pleasure himself since she had declared the women off limits to them. A floorboard creaked. The Philippine turned to see who dared to disturb her and saw a woman in form fitted black with streaks of black and grey greasepaint across her face. The markings concealed her identity well, but the blonde hair in a ponytail gave away the clue that she was American.
She glanced at the picture on the wall of Rani then back to the lethal looking woman expressionless.
"My husband will be avenged dog,"Sali hissed at her.
"I think not,"Lyssa said softly.
In answer a very loud explosion was heard in the distance. Lyssa's expression didn't change as she commented in an icy voice, "the best laid plans......" then gave her a cold smile.
Sali drew a long knife from the sheath on her thigh,"I'll send your head to your President American whore!"
She launched herself leading with the wicked looking blade at Lyssa who spun at the last moment and pulled her past, dropping a chop to the base of Sali's skull. She then grabbed and catapulted her into the doorway. The loud slam masked the snap of bone and cartilage in Sali's nose. With a scream of rage Sali spun sweeping the knife as blood streamed from her smashed nose but gained nothing as Lyssa had already stepped back out of her range.
Like a banshee Sali shrieked and charged Lyssa again bringing the blade down in a slashing arc but was intercepted. Lyssa's boot heel connected to her knee causing it to snap bringing her to the floor screaming.
Lyssa gave no inch as she dropped her knee on Sali's right shoulder then wrenched her arm by the wrist, snapping the joint. Sali screamed and thrashed in pain that climbed an octave when Lyssa took her by the hair and dragged her outside then dropped her in the dirt.
Sali's vision cleared to see the eight bodies of her remaining comrades laid out in a row in front of her. Lyssa stood silently, watching her struggle up to sit kneeling then swiftly slammed her own knife deep into Sali. She had dipped low to bring the Marauder's blade in at angle from the stomach through diaphragm making a small slice into the heart.
Sali froze feeling the cold blade deep inside her chest. Lyssa's steel grey eyes looking deep into hers.
"Past the gates of hell; Before the devil's throne. I've been to Hell, my regards to your husband. Enjoy your rewards," Lyssa whispered then yanked the knife free making blood gush from the wound.
Sali looked from the wound and her blood soaking the dirt to the sky and pleaded softly," Noooo."
Lyssa stepped closer and whispered into Sali's ear, "I'm being kind. The death you deserve shouldn't be this quick and clean."
Sali sang her death song; a loud and long pitched wail that trailed off. She slumped then. Out of breath, out of life and was still. Lyssa quickly retrieved her rifle and other equipment then took photos of all papers inside. She also took the five laptops and cellphones then set a timed incendiary and slipped back into the jungle.
Dannigan had been waiting all night and the better part of the day when the messages came through. The SEALs had overtaken the boat and seized all the terrorists on board then would be detonating all the explosives on board, rending safe.
Two hours later another message came through: Data and electronics retrieved from the hardsite would be shipped in for further investigation. same group responsible for abduction of "princess"...end message.
A news service from the islands ran a broadcast that a shack fire had brought attention to a cluster of bodies under false identity to gain U.S. entry. All had been killed by an unknown gunshot, sharp blade or in a martial arts maneuver, very suspicious circumstances. Dannigan had to chuckle at that, it was a message very loud and extremely clear to the remaining terrorists; "cease actions or pay the price, along with failure"
Leila watched in horror at the news footage from Kawaii. A shack burnt to the ground with dead bodies laid out in the dirt in front. There was alot more to her friend than she really knew...things to be frightened of she thought as Lyssa walked in wearing all black, looking more like a creature of jungle vengeance than the model and ballerina she had laughed and joked with.
Later on Lyssa came from the shower wrapped in a towel and poured a cup of coffee then faced Leila, her eyes like a winter storm she'd once seen in Europe.
"I don't have to say that what you now know is to be kept to yourself. Do I,"Lyssa asked.
"No Lyssa, they were bad people and you had to do it and I don't need to know anything more,"Leila answered.
Lyssa nodded," Good. It would be a bad idea for anyone to try entering my house without me. They wouldn't live to regret it."
The Haiwaiian model nodded,"I'll make sure peope stay away Lyssa."
After a couple of moments Leila asked," Were you like this before or after you became a Prima?"
Lyssa sipped the local coffee and looked out the window," Its going to be a beautiful day. Too bad I have to leave tomorrow."
Book 9 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa's off to Rome for a runway show that's a blast from the past, though some are there to do more than just look! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Donatella was pleased. The models were perfect for the collection. All were lining up perfectly. She looked at the last piece, a long gown that shimmered and sparkled with a deep plunging neckline and almost non-existent back. Her brother Gianni's final masterpiece in ghostly grey. It reminded her of platinum and diamonds.
"All that is left is Legacy Senorina," her assistant Veronika said.
"Bring me the photos again, she must be special," Donatella remarked.
Donatella took the folder of photos and slowly picked through them three times then pulled one and showed it to the assistant,"her. Lyssa Kordenay she looks right."
"She is not in our scheduled line-up Senorina," Veronika checked the call sheet.
"Find her. Tell her I want her to wear Gianni's final gift to us all," Donnatella ran her hand down the length of the gown in reverence and whispered,"you are not forgotten my brother, we will all enjoy your last gift to us, the beauty of your life."
Her assistant dialed the number on the sheet attached to the photo and left a voicemail. Ten minutes later her call was returned, after a brief conversation she disconnected and turned to Donatella.
"She is honored you chose her Senorina, she will be on the next flight she can get from America and be here tomorrow for fitting,"she announced proudly.
"The final creation of Gianni Versace will be magnificent Veronika," Donatella said triumphantly.
"Si Senorina Donatella," the assistant smiled.
Lyssa disconnected the call and walked to her bedroom. The Versace show hadn't been the same since Gianni's murder but this year would be a memorium to him because of this "lost design" and she would have the honor of wearing. It didn't get any bigger than that she thought as she selected summer clothes and matching shoes and a couple of go with anything handbags.
She still needed to pose for the new Lamborgini promo. Maybe Donatella would allow the gown to be used, it would certainly look more glamorous than just posing nude, besides Rafael had been a great admirer of the Versaces and still wore suits designed by Gianni. she started laying her wardrobe into her suitcase its bottom carefully concealing the form-fitted black combat suit and non-metallic weapons and other equipment in case something came up. she had three hours to catch her flight and would take an hour to get there. She'd make it with time to spare.
A quick shower then styling of her hair she made up and slipped into a soft pink dress and sandals with four inch heels then was on her way. In the lounge she switched her phone from the American number to the Italian number. all calls to any of her other numbers would go into a voice-mail and alert to the number she was using. anybody that needed to get in touch dialed her number in that country and if she wasn't using that number she got a voice-mail, anyone sending a text message had to know which number she had active to get through though. all text messages went to an email account specifically for them and she checked it twice daily.
Most people she knew used twitter or facebook so it wasn't a problem it saved on international calls, so did skype. Checking her's revealed several models she knew would also be at the show then laughed to see that her friend from mykonos, the party-girl LaLa would be there in the audience. Lyssa replied to all that she too would be there for the show and looked forward to seeing them all. minutes later the boarding call for first class tickets was called and Lyssa walked to the jetway, it would be morning when she got to Rome she calculated then hoped it would be a smooth flight so she would be able to sleep a bit. 20 minutes later everyone was settled and the plane taxied out. She drifted off an hour after take-off.
Vasili stared at the huddled women in the room,"How many Draga?"
"we have 12 now Vasili. They will bring a nice profit from our buyers in the middle east if we don't lose any," he replied.
"These are all good but we need some real beauties to call for high prices, some models maybe," Vasili remarked.
"Those are getting harder to come by, girls are getting smarter about that," Draga answered.
"Then don't lure,"Vasili said,"we just take some. where are models plentiful right now?"
"The papers say Rome this coming week, a fashion show,"the henchman answered.
"then that's where we need to go. Find a boat...we can keep the girls on it and hold the sale there as well,"Vasili smiled coldly.
This would be fun he thought to himself and very profitable. The Arabs would pay well for a model and after a couple of days they would struggle no more. If they behaved and served well they may even have resell value. Most models had a birth control implant he'd read somewhere to insure no accidental pregnancies. That merely confirmed his view of them in his mind. Besides, there was always a new face every year that claimed to be the best. It would take no time for one or two to be forgotten.
That put him into a mood, he walked back to the room and looked around. One of the women looked up and her eyes flashed a look of disgust at him. Vasili walked over and slapped her, making her yelp. Others scuttled in retreat as he reached down, grabbed her by the back of her neck and hauled her up.
"Let us see how good you are," He sneered then dragged her into another room.
The other girls covered their ears and sobbed trying not to hear the repeated slaps and ripping of clothes over her protests and then guttural screams as he raped her for almost an hour. Finally her dragged her back out by her hair and dropped her limp body on the floor, spots of blood dripped from between her legs.
"Keep yourselves pretty and thing will not as bad for you," he chuckled harshly then left locking the door behind him.
LaLa danced around the waiting area. a passenger asked curiously what had her so excited.
"I'm going to a fashion show in rome, my friend is a model and letting me stay at her place. isn't that exciting,"LaLa answered brightly.
The passenger agreed that it did sound exciting and didn't blame her for being so boisterous, as an elderly woman she remember some exciting times in her youth and even mentioned meeting a big name actor once. LaLa giggled at the woman's blush as she remembered and asked to hear the story keeping her entertained even during the boarding of the flight to Rome.
CHAPTER 2
Madison stepped into the office,"Major, there's a lot of traffic between Interpol and ICE they're having a fit."
"What do you mean," Dannigan asked.
"Well it seems a serious human trafficker dropped of Interpol's radar they think he may be moving from the Balkans to Europe,"she answered.
"So what's his story? the usual,"Dannigan guessed.
"Yes sir, lure girls out of the former republics with promises of job in the west then put them to work in underground brothels or outright sale to big money clients all over the world." she summarized.
"Any Americans to his credit," he asked.
"Nothing solid according to ICE," Madison answered.
"Well let's keep up on the chatter in case something does come up," Dannigan said.
"ICE put in a request to the NSA for Big Ears with voice ID on cellphones around the Mediterranean," Madison added.
"That'll help, maybe we can connect a dot or two for them," Dannigan said.
Madison nodded then turned and walked back out. Dannigan watched her retreat and took note that she'd been more cheerful the past couple of days and was wearing a different perfume than she had been. He smiled to himself, so; Madison had a new boyfriend it seemed. That was good, she had been single for months now. It would be good for her to be dating again. Just as long as her new beau didn't bring attention to himself. He turned back to the window on his screen, a new collection to be shown in Rome from the Versace name. If he was a betting man, and he was on occasion, he'd wager Lyssa would be there. Maybe this trafficking thing was something she could quietly look into.
Lyssa smiled at the customs officer as she passed over her passport.
He studied it for a moment and asked,"What is the purpose of your visit?"
"Business. Modeling; here for the Versace show,"She answered clearly.
"Ah," he then stamped a page,"Welcome to Italia Senorina Kordenay enjoy your stay and may all go well."
Lyssa thanked him then passed through. A few moments later she saw LaLa fidgeting at a table in the cafe who spotted her immediately and ran to her.
"Lyssa! its been forever,"she exclaimed.
"You been here about twenty minutes LaLa," Lyssa laughed,"I promise you haven't missed anything."
Lyssa followed her friend back over to the table to get her suitcase then head for the exit.
"Lyssa you do this all the time, I've never been to Rome before much less a big fashion show like this,"LaLa was almost running to the doors.
"Settle down party-girl and maybe we can go for a ride in a special car," she chuckled.
Outside at the taxi line Lyssa waved at a driver and told him their destination making LaLa gape after her flawless Italian. The driver welcomed them both home making Lyssa laugh as she told him they weren't roman and were in town for the show. LaLa giggled as Lyssa translated the driver's remark that such fine girls were the exact kind his mother would enjoy meeting were he not married 10 years to a woman that had grown up across the street from him as a boy.
LaLa gasped in amazement as they pulled up to the address a hilltop villa on the outskirts of the city. As the driver took out the bags he remarked that the house was too big for girls to live in by themselves and that he had a couple of younger cousins. Lyssa laughed and assured him they were quite capable of taking care of themselves and that she enjoyed her traveling too much to settle down. LaLa hurried from room to room once they got inside exploring and had to be called back to get her case from the foyer so Lyssa could show her to a room.
After freshening up Lyssa got her to the car and they rode back into the city to meet Donatella Versace. At Donetella's studio Lyssa was hurried into the fitting area and shown the gown. She slipped out of her dress and sandals and put on the ones the assistant handed her then carefully got into the dress and stepped out for viewing. Donatella turned around and gasped. LaLa, who had been allowed in, gaped in awe.
"Dona....its beyond belief,"Lyssa sighed looking in the mirror.
Donatella looked in approval the finally said as Lyssa turned for her,"No fitting needed its perfect on her."
LaLa stepped closer and said something in a hushed tone still looking on in awe.
"What did she say," Donatella asked.
"She said 'it looks like it was made in heaven' Dontella,"Lyssa smiled,"She does speak english."
"Thank you, LaLa is it,"Donatella asked.
"Its so beautiful. Lyssa said she would buy a dress here for me to wear for the show," LaLa said excitedly.
Donatella smiled,"no need.....Lydia take Lyssa's friend and find something pretty for her to wear....something sparkly to match her personality."
LaLa gaped in shock then rushed off with the assistant practically skipping calling out her thanks.
Lyssa smiled,"My thanks for indulging my friend Dona, please though, I'll be happy to purchase whatever she likes."
"No Lyssa she said it as it should be. The gown looks like it was made in heaven," Donatella said.
"Your brother is happy. I'm very sure," Lyssa said softly then laughed hearing a squeal of delight in the distance.
the fitting concluded with Donatella herself giving the bagged dress to LaLa and assuring her she could watch the rehearsals and have a seat at the end of the runway during the show. The party-girl quickly hugged the designer and thanked her profusely until Lyssa finally guided her out.
As they were leaving Lyssa heard Donatella," even if she wasn't as attractive as she is I would still have her wear the legacy. Look how she comes...looking like a model should, not like most: escapees from laundry baskets. some even came reeking of a night with boyfriends!"
"Donatella, Lyssa is not like other models. she is highly disciplined, a ballerina also," an assistant commented.
"The boat is secured Vasili," Draga informed his boss.
"So this is Rome.....we will take what we please from these pigs," Vasili scoffed followed by his underling's laugh.
"Find out where these models can found Draga, we have orders to fill," Vasili ordered with a sneer.
"Right,"Draga answered then took five men and went to the dock.
A few hours later they were in a club reputed to host visiting models. Draga waited until one left her glass unattended to dance and walked by dropping a small pill into it then stood off to the side waiting, a few minutes later she returned and drank. within ten minutes the drug had taken effect and as she wandered the club his men were able to guide her out a side door and into their car to take back to the boat followed by Draga and the rest of his crew.
CHAPTER 3
LaLa was having the time of her life, even going to the Lamborgini manufacturer and saw the brand new model. True to her word, Lyssa had even talked the president into allowing them to take one for a ride around the test track. The party-girl couldn't believe how surely Lyssa drove the super-car around the track at over two-hundred-fifty miles per hour then when done stand calmly and talk to the mechanics and designer about its performance as LaLa's knees still wobbled from the heart pounding ride.
The party-girl quickly asked where a ladies' room then rejoined just as Lyssa was mentioning the gown she would be wearing for the show and commenting herself at how stunning it was. The president of the company, a great admirer of Gianni Versace, began to consider the idea of Lyssa posing next to the new car wearing the gown. The fact that he himself would be at the show swung him more in that direction and as the conversation ended he agreed that with Lyssa's introduction he would ask Donatella if she would allow it.
LaLa almost fainted when Lyssa stated that if the photos of her wearing the gown next to the new Lamborghini turned out as well as she thought she would buy it that day, with some fine tuning to suit her personally. The lead mechanic said he could have it the adjustments made in fifteen minutes if she cared to wait. The president turned to the mechanic and instructed him to do so then said he would loan it to her for the time being. The party-girl silently thanked that she had just gone to the ladies' room for she surely would have wet herself that moment.
The ride back to the villa was surreal sitting in the passenger seat of the super-car. She could barely sit still until Lyssa put her foot to the floor up-shifting and the car rocketed forward pressing LaLa firmly to the seat for a moment. The engine went from a growl to a shriek at Lyssa's command. She was having so much fun though there was the news that one of the alternates had not shown for reheasrsals. a couple of other girls that weren't models but were about as pretty had also gone missing. Lyssa seemed concerned about it too, especially about the alternate. no model would leave the opportunity to be a such a prestigious show without word, moves like that were career enders and modeling was as high competition as it got.
When the show itself started LaLa was so excited she couldn't sit still. Lyssa would be the last out. Many were saying it was rush of the old days as the lights flashed and the music pounded. LaLa's favorite song started; Kasabian's Clubfoot. A hard driving mix the grabbed and held you up. She couldn't resist moving with it then she saw the two models stop at the returning end of the runway as a cloaked figure came out and made the turn. As the song gathered more intensity the two caught the cloak in passing and unveiled Lyssa who tossed her hair.
Within two steps the song crescendo-ed as the announcer proclaimed that this was the Legacy gown but the crowd had already risen to their feet and roared as Lyssa strode down the runway with a fierce look. At the end she stopped and posed holding her position for a count of ten then turned once. As she came back around to face the crowd her expression had change to that of pure wanton and she held her pose again for the ten count then turned and strode back down the runway waving the crowds roar upward. Lyssa returned, behind Donatella, for the final walk closing the show to standing ovation. Even the Lamborghini President after seeing the gown insisted that the photos would be perfect. Donatella agreed having seen the new model when Lyssa and LaLa had been arriving in it.With that agreement Lyssa made a call and had the payment wired to pay for the car. They were all looking forward to the after-party.
Draga slowly looked around the club there were models as far as the eye could see. A blonde that everyone seemed to be fawning over would be a real prize. It would be difficult though, they had already taken two. He slowly walked past the table and dropped the pill into her glass and continued a few more steps away then turned and waited watching as she continued to talk to a small group of men and women. She picked up the glass and almost drank but then got more involved in the conversation. A moment later she set the glass back down but too close to the table edge and the glass fell spilling on the floor. Draga swore silently to himself but continued to watch as she parted from the group and walked over to the ladies' room walking in behind another blonde with light purple streaks in her hair.
Lyssa was enjoying the party when she spotted LaLa waving subtly at her. She made a drinking motion then shook her head. Odd, She was telling Lyssa not to drink. With a casual glance down, she noticed a column of bubbles coming from the bottom of the glass, no sparkling wine did that. Someone was trying to drug her. She made a convenient accident to spill the glass then made her way to the ladies' room and followed her friend inside.
"What did you see," She asked the party-girl.
"At first I thought I was imagining that he passed his hand over your glass but then he stayed too close and watched you real hard. I wasn't sure until you spilled it, he got mad,"LaLa informed her.
"Is he alone," Lyssa asked pointedly.
"That kind are never alone but I don't know who is with him," LaLa said looking angry.
Another woman in the ladies' room spoke Greek and followed the conversation. She said she'd mention to the women she knew to guard their drinks from now on. Lyssa translated to the other women in the restroom and they echoed the sentiment,'women guard your drinks.'
"Ok LaLa, show me mister bad guy," Lyssa all but growled.
Outside the mood the women subtly changed. Drinks were no longer being set down then picked back up. More were being abandoned. A man whispered something into Donatella's ear and her mood immediately changed which reflected to the security men moving around much more being watchful. Lyssa became much more watchful herself keeping the dark man pointed out to her always in her line of sight. He betrayed his companions by giving them a nod.
LaLa hovered close to Lyssa and brought unopened bottles of water for them both. Other models noticed and followed suit. Donatella called the party to an end an hour later instructing the security men to observe the models leaving with special attention paid to Lyssa. LaLa looked around as they got into the car and eased out of the parking area.
"What are we doing Lyssa,"she asked as they made a circuit around the block.
"Getting attention," Lyssa remarked watching behind them.
"But they will follow us no,"She asked confused.
"If we're lucky they will,"Lyssa answered drawing a frightened look from the party-girl," bingo..they bit"
Lyssa powered out heading for the outer edge of the city with both of the black Maserati sport sedans on their tail. LaLa turned on the mp3 player and pulled up some of her favorite club mixes then apologized turning it down. Without a word Lyssa turned it back up to blare as the two sedans drew even.
"Come and get us boychiks,"She said over the din then up-shifted bringing the Lamborghini from a growl to pitched whine.
Draga bellowed,"Stay with them, I want both!"
His driver gave chase. Lyssa upshifted again as the songs changed to Too close by Alex Clare. LaLa held her breath as Lyssa slipped gears and brought the engine to a shriek then rocketed between two large trucks then smoothly weaved through the few proceeding cars . Lala turned and looked behind them,"Go Lyssa GO! they are still chasing us!"
"Good, If i make it too hard they'll give up. I want them chasing us," Lyssa smiled coldly then powered through another cluster of cars.
LaLa gave her a more frightened look then was pressed deep into the seat as Lyssa took the next curve like a professional racer. the Lamborghini maintained a significant lead as they turned off onto the lane leading up to the house.
CHAPTER 4
"THERE! TURN THERE! DO NOT LOSE THEM," Draga bellowed at the driver."
"Draga this woman drives like professional,"the driver spouted back.
They saw the car turn in at a house on the hilltop then go dark.
"GO! WE HAVE THEM NOW," he all but screamed.
As they turned in suddenly, Draga saw flashes in front of them as the glass punctured. The driver slumped covered in blood from his head the other car slammed into their side. The other driver slumping over as his own, Draga froze in horror as the blonde cut across the headlights with two large auto-pistols in hand and fired again. He felt a wet spray from behind him. He called out to his men when the roar of the guns stopped digging into his coat then felt heat come to his head and very cold feminine voice.
Lyssa hissed the command,"you are mine. get out! slowly."
Draga dropped his pistol to the floor then slowly opened the door, eased out and saw the beautiful blonde model's face. Cold and expressionless with bright eyes that almost glowed in the dim light. She took a pair of handcuffs brought by the smaller girl and cuffed him to the front end of the car. After searching him like an expert, the blonde then went into the house and returned a few moments later clad in form fitted black and boots.
"Go inside. He and I are going to have a chat,"Lyssa said softly staring intently at Draga.
He knew she was going to interrogate him. He knew this wasn't going to be a police matter when she pulled a long bladed knife from the back of her thigh.
She closed in and hissed," Answers. You speak or scream them."
Lyssa eased out of the Lamborghini,"Stay here LaLa and keep quiet."
She closed the door then faded into the shadows, working her way to the boat tied to the dock. Within moments she pulled herself up the bow rope and slithered to the deck then silently rose up behind the guard. He heard only the water sloshing against the boat and dock when Lyssa plunged the Marauder knife between his jaw and the base of his skull up into his brain. A slight twist of the handle and she pulled it free as he collapsed. She eased him to the deck and moved on to the other guards.
The final guard turned at the last moment, Lyssa slashed the blade down across his neck directly the blood down into his throat then simply pushed him over the side. the stairways were clear but she found four more were playing cards at a table below, she unloaded both her auto-pistols into the group. The only sound from the suppressed guns was a slight cough. She quickly reloaded then stalked down the passageway.
Further into the ship she heard human sounds that became muffled screams as she opened a hatch. On the other side of the hold two men stood watching a huddled group of women as another man held a girl by her hair bent over a crate, ripping what looked to be a party dress to shreds. He was taking his time laughing at her shrieking protests, her nose already bleeding. With steps so soft a ghost couldn't have heard she worked her way around other crates and boxes then stepped out between them and triggered off a head-shot into each guard then spun and slammed the butt of one pistol against the base of the rapist's skull and dragged him into the jumble out of sight.
He stirred as Lyssa draped him over a crate then sliced his pants open. He came to his senses too late as he felt something cold and metal press the shaft of his penis to the rough wood then heard a spitting sound followed by searing pain. the sound echoed again as his thumbs were pinned to the crate top by industrial staples. Vasili faintly caught the scent of a sweet perfume. A feminine voice gave an icy whisper," I know who you are Vasili, I know everything there is to know about you. Beg police to kill you because if you ever get out of prison I'll come from the darkness. Past the gates of Hell and before the Devil's throne you will know misery like no other man on earth Vasili."
She took his phone and dialed the number to local Interpol the slid it over to the huddled women. One snatched it up and launched into panicked italian begging for police to come and save them as Lyssa slipped back out and made her way back to the waiting car and her friend.
Danigan looked up as Madison stepped into his office,"What is it?"
"Something strange in Rome, Interpol got a tip and raided a boat at the dock and found Vasili and a group of girls, some from Baltic states but the rest were locals," she reported.
Danigan gave a non-plussed look indicating to continue.
"All the goons were dead and he was found 'Stapled to a packing crate by his thumbs and....penis," she finished.
Danigan's eyes had widened with that last part.
"what haven't you mentioned," he asked pointedly.
Madison frowned, "some of the girls are models. Connected to the Versace show.....Lyssa was confirmed to be at that show."
"I think that answers all the questions of who,how,why, etc.," Dannigan surmised.
Madison nodded then turned and walked back to her desk.
LaLa couldn't believe it, her friend wasn't just brave, she was dangerous and had rescued all those girls but didn't let them get a good look at her. They were sharing glasses of wine in the villa's kitchen after taking showers.
"I wish I could be brave and strong like you Lyssa," the party-girl confessed.
"LaLa you can be anything you want to be," Lyssa said directly as they sat at the table glasses of wine between them,"I'm proof of that.I wasn't born a model or a ballerina or anything else for that matter"
"But.."LaLa started.
"I had to work for it,"Lyssa cut off the protest, "and work hard. very hard. you can too, but you have to want it so bad though. you said once I didn't have enough fun. now you know why." Lala nodded slowly then turned to see the first rays of dawn filter through the window and sipped her wine.
Lyssa began to slowly run her fingertip along the rim of the glass making it sing. Slowly ebbing and pitching for a couple of minutes until Lyssa said," Its a beautiful sunrise. reminds me of the the time we first met.
LaLa's eyes began to grow heavy,"I made a great friend that morning."
"As did I. I kept you safe,"Lyssa said softly," safe and relaxed. Like sleeping and dreaming."
The party-girl from Mykonos slightly nodded as Lyssa held the note of the glass.
"Dreaming," Lala echoed.
Lyssa had her now and spoke softly," so much excitement last night. Those two cars hitting like that. They shouldn't have been drinking and driving."
Lala nodded sleepily," that was dangerous for them."
"Its a good thing the police came and took care of them. Breaking the glass and getting them out. That one man was very hurt and had to lean against the front of the car," Lyssa prompted.
Again Lala nodded," He was hurt badly from the accident."
"But we did a nice thing going to tell his friends on the boat what happened," Lyssa said calmly," the police came to escort them."
"yes. You're so nice, even to strangers in trouble," Lala commented.
Lyssa then said almost sadly,"its too bad your flight leaves this afternoon. You should go take a nap before you go."
Lyssa reached over and patted her arm, bringing her back around.
The party-girl yawned then stood up,"I think I'll go lay down until I need to get ready for my flight Lyssa."
Lyssa nodded and smiled,"I should do that too. sleep well."
Lala went upstairs, leaving Lyssa alone in the kitchen. Staring out the window, her hand clenched, shattering the glass. Lyssa glared at nothing then cleaned the broken glass and spilled wine. With a look of anger she went up the stairs to her own room and went to bed.
Book 10 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Columbia has produced a new and savage cartel, Can Lyssa face the mission or will demons of the past come back to haunt her? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
Butterfly and the Dragon's Den
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan stared at the screen. The Director of the CIA was quietly backchanneling a request for help and he didn't care from who. Five deep cover agents tortured and killed in Columbia by a serious narco-terrorist cartel. It made him think of the Padosa cartel and the havoc they had wreaked.
These cartels had a tendency to get out of hand. Perhaps they could be taught a lesson since the example of Ramon Padosa had faded from memory too quickly.
He knew just the person to do it and buzzed the intercom, "Madison."
"Yes Major,"she answered.
"Where's Lyssa," he asked.
"Her U.S. number was active this morning, I'll call her right away," Madison said then dialed.
Lyssa answered on the third ring. Madison told her that she was needed immediately then noted a tme and hung up.
"She'll be here in two hours Major,"Madison buzzed back to him.
He replied with a brusque thank you then started gathering information.
Lyssa disconnected and walked back inside. She showered then dried and styled her hair. After putting on her make up and perfume she picked a lightweight blue skirt suit,cream colored blouse and black pumps. Lyssa took up her purse and keys as she walked out and was on her way in moments.
Traffic was light and she pulled into the parking lot with minutes to spare.it took only moments to pass through the safeguards to get to Madison's office and she buzzed her in with a smile.
"Afternoon Lyssa,"Dannigan greeted her.
"Major..." she replied then looked to the screen on the wall he nodded to.
The first photo came up and he narrated," Calderone, Eduardo; head of the Coyote Rojos cartel out of Columbia, bloodthirsty, vicious, etc. this next guy is his top enforcer; Alvarez, no other name known. Eduardo's wife; Marianna she's just as bad as he is. Sister: Carmellina, now she takes cut-throat to a whole 'nother level. It's confirmed that she had a priest dragged out of the church and burned alive because he didn't give her absolution."
"Jesus......"Lyssa muttered.
"That's the high-lights. These men and woman were deep cover CIA. She was grabbedcoming out of the embassy, the group's control. They were rounded up within minutes. That was last month, the team's bodies were recovered two days ago. Power drils, blow-torches, electric, cutting and that was just the men," Dannigan stated as those photos came up.
Lyssa had stood and walked over to the screen, her expression had become stoney as the photos continued.
"The woman was obviously sexually assaulted repeatedly; including trauma to the rectum, any evidence vaginally had been obliterated by 'an extremely hot object inserted deep inside repeatedly' and semenal fluid recovered from both her stomach and rectum.....some of it non-human. Her eyes had been completely removed by and i quote 'extreme force'. To date there has never been this aggressive of actions," Dannigan concluded.
"My god this rings of Padosa,"Lyssa said angrily.
"A connection was searched for, but no. These people are new, independent and wanting to really make a name for themselves savagely," Dannigan finished.
Lyssa turned back to face him,"ok Show is over...now give me Tell."
"Backchannel request and these are just your type," Dannigan said without humor.
"I'll go in,"lyssa said after a moment.
"One thing though. Apparently Padosa wasn't a good enough example. I want you to go....strange, on this one," He added.
"How strange do you want,"She asked tilting her head slightly.
"Get really creative. Something nobody's ever seen before," Dannigan said then passed over a disc.
Lyssa took the disc then walked out with a wave to Madison. If she hurried she could make the evening flight to the Caymen Islands.
Danigan sent a secure untraceable message to the director of the CIA: action underway.
He then buzzed Madison,"Start monitoring columbia, eyes, ears, every bit of chatter to and from."
"Yes sir,"She answered. Madison said a quick silent prayer, Their butterfly was being sent into Hell. the Steel Butterfly. Hopefully Lyssa could withstand the fires again.
Carmellina laughed coldly looking down at the Embassy secretary,"you are going to provide us so much entertainment. Paco...."
A man off to the side lit a torch then held a rod in the flame for a minute, when it took a red hue he turned it off and approached her. Through swollen eyes she saw him coming closer and started begging for him not to get closer. Slowly he waved the heated rod in front of her then pressed it to her upper arm causing her to thrash on the table and scream.
Carmellina leaned down beside her head and waved off the brander and signalled another to come forward.
"You serve those gringo pigs so well...show us how you do it....spread your legs like you do for them," Carmellina hissed into the woman's ear gripping her hair.
Crying, the secretary did as she was told. Another man that had been waved forward unzipped his pants and freed himself then climbed onto the table and savagely thrust himself into her. She screeched in pain as he raped her, pausing occasionally to sniff up some cocaine then continue for over an hour until her wails dulled to groans of misery.
He climbed off of her then cut the cords keeping her to the table. Another man came up and roughly flipped her over then rammed himself deep into her rectum. The brutalized young woman lost her voice before he had finished in her.
Carmellina stepped up again,"our property should be marked clearly so there is no mistaking," she chuckled then pressed the sizzling brand to the woman's right buttock.
"Yes....you will provide us with so much fun," Carmellina chuckled into the woman's ear before she slipped into unconsciousness.
Lyssa walked through the concourse of Grand Caymen International Airport then took a taxi to her house on the beach arriving just before midnight. Once inside she walked to the phone and dialed a satellite number from memory, It was answered on the second ring.
"Yeah" a male voice answered.
"Good evening; we are currently running a survey to all VIP gold members of the Mile-High club," Lyssa said in a seductive voice gaining a roar of laughter on the other end.
"Well how are you Gorgeous," he chuckled.
"Busy Rodrick and maybe able to put some business your way. Any commitments," she asked.
"Hell you know me...I have issues when it comes to commitments, though you could definitely make a man rethink the course of his life," Rodrick flirted.
Rodrick thought back to the weekend they had been together. They had met by accident when a modeling assignment turned out to be a ploy by middle eastern human traffickers.
Lyssa laughed and flirted back, "such sweet talk. When can you be in Cayman flyboy?"
"Since its you, 9 am local," he replied.
"Meet me at the Golden Reef. Breakfast is on me. And Rodrick....bring your blacklist," Lyssa said.
"Sweet thing for you; I'll even bring flowers," Rodrick quipped and disconnected.
Lyssa made a few more calls and soaked in a bubblebath for for a while then went to bed.
tomorrow would be along soon enough.
CHAPTER 2
Rodrick Mason walked out onto the deck and crossed over to the table and gave a low wolf whistle at the blonde wearing a strapless aqua dress. Lyssa laughed then stood up, hugged the pilot and took the small bouquet of roses then sat back down as he held her chair before taking his own sitting opposite her.
"You never change...always 'off the cover of a magazine' and twice as sweet," He commented.
"And you...'daring as Howard Hughes' with ten times the charm," She chuckled back.
Breakfast was ordered and they made small talk before and during. After she paid the check they walked out onto the beach. Lyssa unfastened the ankle straps of her heels and held them in her hand as they walked along the edge of the damp sand just back from the surf.
"So what's the gig Lyssa, you have other means of getting around," Rodrick asked.
"Destination: Columbia," Lyssa said as they stopped and she turned to face him.
That got his attention so he asked,"Columbia? Seriously?"
"But I need to do something else first, Indonesia...island of Flores to make a pick up," she said flatly.
"Flores? there's nothing on Flores but.....what the hell do you want with those big-assed lizards," Rodrick asked in disbelief.
"That's my business Rod. I need to go get the dragons and get them into Columbia. Unnoticed Rod, completely off the grid," she answered.
"You mean use a drug strip in the jungle," he baited her.
Lyssa turned and looked at him again then took off her sunglasses. The look she gave him was all business.
"Don't play me Rod, you and I both know you have your own airstrip in every third world country. If you wanted to, you could not only refuel but also rearm most jet fighters and attack helos. Guns and missiles," she said flatly.
"Ok, its like that..the gloves and panties are off.... vicious Lyssa. How'd you know about that anyway," He asked.
"You talk in your sleep. Rod...this is serious....I need it,"she replied then kept along side as he started walking again.
They walked ten yards before he stopped again and looked out to sea.
"This isn't one of your classic 'favor for a favor' gigs is it? Like you said; don't play me," Rodrick leveled.
"Its a real job Rod and its important,"She admitted.
He stood there and thought for a minute then finally said,"Ok, you know my usual deal but triple fuel cost."
"Rod, I'm not playing around here. You can have a hundred K for this," Lyssa answered.
"Damn Lyssa. do I wanna know what the hell you're up to this time,"Rodrick exclaimed.
"Let's just say Morocco was a walk in the park compared to this on my end,"She chuckled.
Rodrick smiled, not at the memory of a desparate get away from angry mercenaries chasing Lyssa and a several models as they were escaping from a human trafficker, but of the weekend the two of them shared in Nice afterward.
He laughed,"ok deal but I need a favor."
"A favor," Lyssa asked arching an eyebrow.
Roderick mocked a serious look,"yeah I need a new suit. You got an In with Hugo Boss?"
Lyssa rolled her eyes pretending exasparation then laughed as he picked her up and spun once," I have an in with Giorgio Armani."
"So when do we have to get going," Rodrick asked then kissed her slowly.
Lyssa relaxed in his arms and smiled," how about tonight? Gives us a few hours."
"Good thing I got a room on the way over," Rodrick scooped her up and carried her towards the nearby resort.
The sun had just set as Rodrick's cargo plane lifted off from the runway of a private Bahamian island heading east towards Africa.
"Madison, update Lyssa about the embassy secretary,"Dannigan ordered.
"Yes sir. Any additional instructions," She asked.
"Use her own discretion on site," Dannigan added.
Madison closed her eyes at the finality of that statement. Translation: retreive if possible, liquidate if neccessary. A Senate sub-committee had already met and issued a lethal finding on the cartel. Lyssa would carry out the liquidation mandate under three agencies' umbrella; CIA, DEA and State Department. Though it was untraceable Dannigan's message had been taken seriously.
Everybody had pulled back and since the abduction of the secretary the embassy was on lock down. The cartel would be angry; they had tried and failed at kidnapping of one of the marine guards. Anybody and everybody that could be had been issued weapons to protect themselves. The marine had. The embassy guard detail was reinforced by a special anti-terrorist detail from Guantannamo Bay along with undercover SEALs from TEAM 6.
Eduardo looked at his sister,"So you failed at your idiotic ploy to take one of the embassy marine guards."
Carmellina retorted,"he got lucky is all. we'll pick up another."
"He got lucky..."Eduardo echoed standing up and pouring a drink,"he.....got...lucky......"
He threw the decanter at the wall beside her smashing it,"HE GOT LUCKY? NO! YOU GOT STUPID! AND NOW THE AMERCIANS HAVE STRENGTHENED THEMSELVES!"
"Who cares, by tomorrow I will have the Ambassador. We will use bank trucks to smash in and drive back out," she smiled.
Eduardo pointed at her angrily,"we need solid leverage on the Americans. Take the whole family from the embassy. DO NOT FAIL!"
Lyssa walked into the cockpit and sat in the navigator seat rubbing her eyes, "Where we at Rod?"
"We'll be landing outside Johannesburg again in ten minutes sleeping beauty," he smiled.
They were on the ground once more at his private airstrip for an hour to refuel then take off again, another refuel stop just outside Marakesh gave them enough fuel to make Argentina then up to Columbia.
Rod threw in a bonus, a truck big enough to haul the crates containing the giant lizards that were getting angrier by the hour. They were fed once on the plane, but only enough to settle down. They couldn't be fed again or they wouldn't be aggressive enough. A few hours later she had driven to within three miles of the compound.
After sunset a small convoy pulled out. Lyssa spotted the sister Carmellina in the lead SUV. She slipped down to the road and lined a twenty yard section with claymores then placed anti-vehicle mines in the road itself followed by a snare-trap. there were several guard towers but within range of her rifle even with the supressor, a spray of acid separated the fence to allow her access.
Silently she made her way into the barracks and used a silenced MP-5. The twenty guards barely hear the clacking of the bolt or loud 'cough' of the reports over the rattling air conditioner in the window. One by one she silently cleared the bungalows with her pistol and the Marauder knife then stole into the main house.
Within half an hour she had complete control of the house. Lyssa secured the Cartel command then searched lower. The sight in the basement stunned her. She'd found the secretary. Lyssa stepped close, reached out and touched her hair gently. Barely holding back a whimper the ravaged secretary slowly opened her legs. Lyssa shushed her gently, taking note of the bruises, lacerations and burns. Her arms were both at unnatural angles. It was the lack of the woman's eye that sickened her the most.
With a voice that was more a hoarse croak than a whisper she begged,"please make it all stop. please make it all stop."
Silently Lyssa took a micro-syrette from a concealed compartment in her boot then leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead and whispered,"I'm so sorry."
Lyssa injected the syrette into the trembling woman's neck. Within seconds she became still then exhaled what little breath she'd had left. Stiffly Lyssa took a sheet from nearby and draped it over her body, gently tucking it underneath then quickly turned away and doubled over. She wretched and heaved until her stomach was as empty as her soul now felt. Lyssa stood and rinsed her mouth with water from her canteen then went outside, she had a pit to dig. The explosives she'd found would solve that problem quickly.
CHAPTER 3
Carmellina laughed as her men loaded into the trucks from the bank then watched as they sped away. She had her driver park down the street so she could watch. The Americans thought they could hide behind the walls and shoot at any threat, they would learn soon that if she wanted something nobody would stop her from taking it.
The first truck turned the corner followed by two more as then sped up, at the last moment it turned, barreling towards the gate. The men behind the wall didn't bother to shout warnings they just opened fire. the night shattered with the sound of assault rifles
and machine guns but the trucks still plowed through the gates. They didn't make it very far when Carmellina saw three firey streaks travel from the roof of the building and slam into the trucks blasting them into the air followed by several smaller explosions.
She screamed at the driver,"GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!"
Too late the watchers had already discovered her. Several shots pinged at the Mercedes SUV as he started the engine then slammed it into reverse and screeching backwards down the road. As they sped through the streets heading back to the compound she planned to collect more men and the Russian rockets from the storage and return. She would teach the Americans not to stand in the way of the Calderone family and its goals. She would own the American Embassy before the sun rose.
Eduardo looked around then realized he was handcuffed to a chair facing his wife and second lieutenant; Alvarez. None of them were able to speak due to the strips of tape across their mouths. His phone rang. To Eduardo and his wife's horror a woman answered it and sounded very similar in tone and attitude to Marianna.
She instructed the caller," hurry back. What you need will be ready when you get here."
The source of the voice stepped into view. A woman in all black that outlined every curve with dark streaks across her face hiding her identity perfectly.
"That was your sister, she failed again and is on her way back. She wants more men and the rockets from storage," she said.
The woman turned and walked from the room. Some time later they heard an explosion then after a few minutes three smaller ones and several screams.
Lyssa waited until the SUV almost cleared the minefield then triggered one off, blasting it tail over nose forward to land on its roof. Slowly three men and one woman struggled out. One of the men started to lead them back down the road but Lyssa hit another remote and one of the claymores went off shredding him. He had enough life in him to scream, the two others ran up to either pull him to safety or give a mercy shot but Lyssa didn't give them time to decide hitting the remote twice more setting off two more claymores. The woman turned and bolted, running to the compound for safety from the unseen enemy.
Lyssa watched her run for a good ten yards when the concealed rope noose snatched her off the ground by the ankles. The drug lord's sister's head smacked the ground hard knocking her unconscious. The last thing she saw was a dark form materialize from the jungle and approach then the lights went completley out.
She awoke later handcuffed to a chair at the edge of a very large hole by a tractor with its bucket overhanging the edge. Several large metal boxes were at the bottom with strands of barbed wire to them. Loud banging came from inside the boxes.
"You brought dogs for us to fight," Eduardo taunted.
Lyssa said nothing but looped a rope around the chest of Alvarez then hauled him upright from the chair and lowered him down into the ground below. He smirked at her then looked puzzled with something small hit his head. Looking down Alvarez saw it was the key to the handcuffs. He bent down and picked up the key and managed to unlock them. Lyssa said nothing but slowly pulled one of the strands of wire lifting the gate on the box.
"Here poochie poochie poochie," Alvarez called and made kiss noises at the box until it opened and something slowly came out.
The Columbian stopped taunting and started backing away. Eduardo and company starting looking at each other in confusion. Seeing something dark moving out of the box had made him go silent and stare in terror. Alvarez was fearless and had even wrestled pitbull dogs before but whatever was down there made him afraid.
They heard a hissing then saw him run for the opposite side then around; moving and jumping, finally fighting it with kicks until whatever it was had him. They heard him bellow and scream trying to free himself. It continued for fifteen minutes then a loud wail
hitched up an octave then trailed off.
Lyssa leaned in close to Carmellina,"Are you entertained?....no? I'll change the channel then..."
She hoisted Marianna up then lowered her into the pit and dropped the key to her. Marianna whimpered and swore to herself trying to get the cuffs unlocked. As she finally managed to get free, two doors slid up and she saw two more come out and move toward
her. The high pitched screaming stopped after 10 minutes while the woman and Eduardo whispered.
Carmellina looked up after having the back of her head slapped. The woman in black had been gone a long time. She leaned down to Eduardo and whispered into his ear. He spoke softly and quickly, staring into the hole. Three very large lizards feasted on the two bodies as bangs could be heard from the remaining crates while she wrote on a small pad of paper then left.
Twenty minutes later she returned and whispered into his ear again," you're sure that's it?"
He nodded his head," for the love of God that's everything. I swear it."
The woman didn't use the rope to lower him, instead she simply pushed him into the pit and pulled five strands releasing more of the creatures. Eduardo's screams stopped after a few minutes.
The woman in black stood in front of her and looked down," and now its your turn Carmellina. Let the fun begin, I hope you enjoy it."
The drug lord's sister was hoisted up with the rope and lowered into the pit but not entirely. Carmellina jerked to look up and saw a large container of slowly leaking water holding her up. The two remaining crate doors slid up and she heard a clear voice.
"Past the gates and before the devil's throne, I have been to Hell. You deserve much worse. This is it," Lyssa said.
Carmellina looked down as the first dragon licked her foot then bit, ripping her toes off. She looked back up and screamed as the two remaining komodos clambered to tear strips from her legs. For twenty minutes they fought and yanked at her kegs then pelvis. Finally the rope sagged all the way, dropping her fully into the pit. Hoarse from screaming already she could barely squirm as the dragons moved in, ripped her open and feasted.
Lyssa got into the borrowed truck and drove back to the secret airstrip. After a few minutes staring straight ahead she dialed a number on the hidden satellite phone. She told the voice on the other end,"I'm done. Come get me."
CHAPTER 4
"Sir, the reports are all in," Madison said standing in front of the desk.
"Just leave them there Madison thank you," Dannigan replied staring out the window.
"Lyssa's Carribean number is active, Cayman Islands,"she added.
"Thank you Madison, that'll be all," he said.
Puzzled Madison went back to her desk.
A few moments later Dannigan walked out and closed his door,"We're done for the day Madison. Tomorrow is a personal day, do whatever you like."
She'd not seen him like this in all their time working together. Her curiosity finally reached its limit, she went into his office and picked up the two discs one marked with a red X and the other with a black X. She played the black and watched in horror the systematic torture of the young embassy secretary.
She next loaded the red X'd disc. Someone had erased a segment of video because it went from static to a clear feed of the same basement and again the secretary. Lyssa walked into the frame. The sound was fine but Lyssa's footsteps were silent. Madison stared on in shock as she heard the abused woman's plea. Tears streamed down her face as she watched Lyssa grant her final request, ending her life, then move to the side and empty herself. Madison shut the video off and put the disc back. Dannigan had left his Instant Message screen up. It was from Lyssa; Leave me alone for a while.
Lyssa walked out of the incoming surf and picked up the towel on the lounge chair.
"I want to be alone," she said to the man reclined on it.
"Bullshit,"he muttered.
Lyssa patted herself dry, "no games Rodrick and I'm not gonna ask how you found me either."
"Wasn't easy. The house in Virginia is your official home, but you weren't there. Twenty-seven shell companies own this place. Not bad," he commented.
when she didn't say anything to that he stood up and looked at her.
"You waking up screamin'," he asked then he shook his head," come on baby. Talk to me, I'll understand. You already knew I'm an ex-SEAL."
Her punch was lightning quick and connected solidly with his jaw. Rodrick rolled with it and brought his arms up to block the follow through kick but didn't see the leg sweep behind that. He rolled backwards, coming back up trying to weave the series of punches but missed one and she slammed him back to the ground.
Lyssa gave no ground. Deadly silent and continually advancing. Another kick sent him sprawling across the sand but he came back up fast and moved quick, softening some of her next punch's impact. The elbow under his chin was a surprise, along with the knee into his gut. Lyssa went at him for fifteen minutes. Rodrick now knew she was more dangerous than previously thought and wasn't using any fighting style he had ever encountered before.
Normally he'd have found it impossible to keep his mind on the situation with her wearing a bikini like that one, but he had to. She wasn't pulling punches and the ones that connected seriously rocked him, he had his hands full just trying to keep out of her range. A quick elbow to the high gut caught him off guard and the following uppercut dazed him. Rodrick threw himself to the left fast making the kick land at his shoulder, causing it to pop, but not dislocate. He shook his arm to bring the feeling back into it then saw her pivot and knew she was about to spin in close.
Rodrick moved in closer then just wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head to his shoulder and sat down on the sand.Lyssa struggled for a minute as he held her.
He said softly to her, "That's it....it's done and over with. Talk to me Lyssa, I'll help I swear."
She stilled for a minute and he felt his shoulder getting damp then she pushed herself away and walked back to the water's edge.
Rodrick stood beside her," I've known for eight months about this place. You've been in my brain since we met in Morocco and I can't get you out. Especially after Nice. I know you come here when you have cash to store and disappear for a little while. I don't have the full story out of Columbia but I know enough that it was eighteen different kinds of fucked up."
When she said nothing he continued,"Oh sure things went through or you wouldn't have walked out there. Something went wrong, and its tearing you apart. I know what that's like. Now if you're a good girl and get dressed you can have some of the dinner I made
while you were swimming. It's Italian."
Rodrick woke to the sound of a soft keen. He knew that sound, a soul beginning its descent into private hell. Lyssa thrashed several minutes protesting then let out an earsplitting scream. She bolted upright and sat with her eyes open, but unseeing as she
started to rock back and forth sobbing.
Rodrick slowly sat up and brought her into his arms as she cried softly,"I'm sorry.....I'm so sorry I came too late.....I'M SORRY I COULDN'T SAVE YOU....I'M SO SORRY!"
He said nothing as he held her until the first rays of light filtered through then laid back with her.
"I'm not going anywhere Lyssa. I can't stay away from you," he whispered as her eyes drifted closed.
Book 11 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa is still struggling post mission, but what of the mysterious Rodrick? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Rodrick sat down heavily into the seat of the golf cart, Lyssa didn't even look up from the Arts & Entertainment magazine.
"You know could at least watch when I'm putting or teeing off," he said.
"Birdied the last hole and you're two under par for the course so far,"she replied casually turning a page.
Rodrick chuckled as they came to a stop at the next tee and lean against the side watching the other men hit down the fairway.
"You must be bored. Reading Arts&Entertainment,"he chuckled.
"I'm a classically trained ballerina, I would read Arts&Entertainment,"Lyssa remarked.
"Please......" Rodrick scoffed choosing a driver," you turned down the Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot along with two shoots for European covers and the Gauthier runway show in Paris, but showed interest in the Death Valley marathon and a triathlon in San Diego."
"You've been reading my emails," Lyssa said sweetly.
Rodrick turned back to see if she was smiling. She wasn't, he was going to pay for snooping later. He needed to find her a ninja to spar with, the soreness of his jaw was fading unless he bit down on something really hard. He swung and put the ball almost a third of the fairway. Two more strokes and he was on the green.
"Still don't see what the big deal is Rodrick, you could skunk the living hell out of these guys,"She stated.
"C'mon Lyssa you know what I'm after with these computer wonks,"Rodrick watched the other men working their way to the green.
"Get them what they really want honey and you'll get that new Gulfstream,"She turned another page.
"Yeah? What's that oh sagely one with the luscious legs," he quipped.
"Laid, dumbass. What else would computer wonks want in the Caribbean," Lyssa had slid her sunglasses down and looked at him over the lenses.
"I know you are soooooo not volunteering," Rodrick said snarkily.
"What's in it for me on the information fly-boy," Lyssa asked.
"Dinner at The Beacon," he offered.
"Not even to get you off the hook about my email," she said flatly.
"New shoes, a box of chocolates, breakfast in bed and dinner at the Beacon,"Rodrick added.
"That might do it this time," Lyssa looked up," Now about the information...."
Rodrick got his putter and walked toward the green,"now that's just fucking mean Lyssa. mean."
He stopped when he heard her say softly to herself, "I've done worse."
Rodicrick waved to the party to wait a moment then he walked back and leaned down. With a finger under her chin to lightly lift her head up from the magazine.
"Everybody has baggage, nature of the business. There's a time to carry it and a time to set it on a cart. I'm not going anywhere," Rodrick said flatly
He leaned down and kissed her lightly then walked back to the group and finished the hole and game.
Back at the beach house Lyssa checked her emails and messages. One stood out...a name that sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place right off so she opened it. Lyssa read then smiled, an old friend from her ballet training was in the Bahamas and had come up with an original production but needed a principal dancer. One up for a challenge.
Rodrick came in, "I get a test flight tomorrow."
"Ok....I'll entertain myself," she said not looking up from the laptop.
Rodrick stopped smiling and began to back slowly out of the room warily.
"Madison," Dannigan called from the doorway.
She turned,"yes sir?"
"Is Lyssa still using the Caribbean number,"He asked.
Madison brought up the list,"yes sir, the Caribbean number has been active for over a week but it shows her in Nassau."
A few more key commands and Madison looked back, "She was on a commercial flight from Grand Cayman to Nassau... returning to Grand Cayman this afternoon."
Dannigan looked at his watch then returned to his office. He walked out twenty minutes later and headed for the door, within the hour he was walking up the ramp of an Air Force C-5 that would take him to Florida from there he would catch an off the book flight to Cayman. If things worked out her would meet up with her at the airport.
Columbia had reminded them all of the fact that not every mission went without a hitch, he didn't blame her for having problems. The video of the secretary was horrific to say the least. Lyssa's part was heartbreaking. They all had blood on their hands, but some stains couldn't be ignored. Whether she'd come to terms or not, he needed her. As long as she didn't try to kill him outright he'd be doing good.
Rodrick whistled as he walked across the tarmac. The Gulfstream G-10 was an awesome bird and his would be delivered the following week to his private airfield in the Bahamas where he kept his other aircraft. Lyssa had finally found something to do besides train. Her morning triathalon would run most SEALs ragged.
He accompanied her one morning and regretted it for a day and a half. He didn't mind being the occasional punching bag as long as she didn't get really nasty but he drew the line at her morning bout with self-inflicted masochism, the iron triatheletes would think twice before taking her on daily.
In no time he was pulling his rental into the driveway then walking through the door. Wandering around he found Lyssa in the studio watching a video intently with a remote in her hand. This was new. She never watched anything in the studio/gym.
She noticed him as he walked in and turned off the video,"enjoy your flight?"
"Handled like a dream, what's up," he asked nodding to the video she had been watching.
"Old friend wanted me to look at a project," she answered casually, "Well now that you're back let's get dinner."
"Sounds good but i want Italian,"Rodrick agreed.
Lyssa stepped into her heels and picked up her purse then preceded him to the door. The affectionate pat on her butt made her laugh but it was cut short when she opened the door and saw Dannigan about to knock.
Rodrick was the first to speak," You look vaguely familiar."
"Good evening Lieutenant. Its been a while," Dannigan answered.
Dannigan looked at Lyssa, her face was a mask.
'Better than outright hostility,' Dannigan thought to himself.
Rodrick Mason didn't remember the man's name right off the top of his head but he knew a super-grade Spook when he saw one and if he had to guess by Lyssa's immediate change of demeanor the man wasn't a Handler; he was the Control or better. That became a very sobering thought, that Lyssa was such an operative she didn't have a handler. Translation- she was a high level liquidation specialist, not listed as an asset. The only question remaining now was why.
"We were on our way to dinner,"Rodrick said.
"I'll be happy to buy if you don't mind a third along,"Dannigan offered.
Lyssa didn't immediately protest so he took that as acceptance from her.
Rodrick nodded,"ok but you'll have to follow us."
"I have plenty of room in my car, where to,"Dannigan asked.
"Giovanni's Garden," Lyssa prompted in a flat voice .
CHAPTER 2
Dinner was pleasant with Dannigan and Rodrick chatting about the new aircraft in production. The new Eurofighter and helicopter gunship looked promising. They joked about the rumor that a test pilot got sick during the maiden flight. Rodrick hid his concern at Lyssa's silence, she was playing 'eye-candy'.
Finally as dessert was served Rodrick asked,"You look very familiar but I can't really place the face."
Dannigan chuckled and said,"Tangiers. '07."
Rodrick rolled his eyes and face-palmed remembering,"Oh hell, don't mention Tangiers, I remember now. Jesus what a mess. A walking one-man goatfuck that finally found a place to happen."
Rodrick had just started his charter service and as a former SEAL he'd been asked to run a black flight to pick up an Operative. That Operative turned out to be an former Army Captain named Paul Dannigan with a renegade CIA case officer in tow. The extraction hadn't gone well with Rodrick and Dannigan barely making it out with their lives.
They both laughed. Dannigan paid the check and then drove back to Lyssa's house.
"Didn't come all this way to take us to dinner and make small talk Captain. C'mon in and get to the point before she kills both of us," Rodrick said getting out of the car.
"Actually I retired as a Major,"he chuckled following them inside.
"Where's the justice,"Rodrick joked pouring two bourbons and a glass of chardonnay,"I need to go outside?"
"No Mason you can stay. Actually; I'm glad a former SEAL and pilot like you is around. Surprised but glad. I've got a problem and need both of you," Dannigan said,"Rod you still run your service out of that Bahamian island, right?"
"yeah, why,"He asked warily.
"There's an object we need,"Dannigan led, "Lyssa its at the Chinese consulate in Nassau."
"Wait! Whoa......."Rodrick held his hands up," Embassies are strictly no go areas, Major. Not even the NSA can pull stunts like that. Even if its verified there's a nuke involved."
"Its beyond risky yeah," Dannigan admitted.
"Risky my ass. Tangier was risky, 'Act of war' is how it can and would be taken Major and you know it,"Rodrick leveled.
"What do you want Major," Lyssa finally spoke.
"Its a vial. A biological agent. Some nutjob crossed Ebola and Hemorrhagic fever. As if that wasn't bad enough, then mutated it,"Dannigan answered.
"Holy shit,"Rodrick exclaimed," either one of those will kill in no time at all."
"Very true Lieutenant, but this stuff is so bad it can kill in three hours. What's worse, it has neuro-toxic effects thrown in. I'm talking spasms that snap the bones of the victim then, without getting overly technical, their insides turn to blended jello and they bleed out via any outlet. We're talking eyes, ears, mouth, nose, rectum, there's even been rumors that the exposed victim could possibly 'sweat blood'."
Nobody spoke for several minutes then Lyssa stepped to the doors and looked out to the darkened sea. Dannigan stood and walked over to stand beside her.
"Bad guys do bad shit to good people Lyssa. Columbia was bad, I understand. You've got problems and you want to deal with it. I don't blame you,"Dannigan confessed," Hell that would've slam dunked anybody, but you're the best. If anybody else had a chance at pulling this one off I'd get them, but you're it."
Rodrick's anger took over finally. He stomped over and spun Dannigan around.
"I thought you showed up to check on her, NOT throw her back into the fucking lion's den, for Christ's sake Paul she isn't ready," Rodrick swore at him.
"Mason I need her and if it wasn't this bad I wouldn't have asked much less come here myself to do it. She can't do this alone either. She's gonna need you, Rodrick," Dannigan explained.
Lyssa stepped out of her shoes and walked out to the beach. Tears welled in her eyes but she refused to let them fall as the fingers of her right hand flexed slowly into and out of a fist.
Rodrick's raised voice fading as she walked further out,"She still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night you sadistic sonofabitch!"
Chang double checked the seals on the case holding a vial in the special safe. This was an embassy, not a biochem lab, and if what he heard and read was true that vial was the last thing on earth he wanted around. There was no other place to keep it though, it could be found and stolen anywhere else.
Embassies were sovereign territory, any attempt to violate one was as blatant an act of war as dropping a nuke on the capitol city of that country. The Vienna convention outlined that categorically among other things. Terrorists didn't recognize such things and that was their primary concern but in the Bahamas they had only to worry about pirates out on the open ocean. mostly those that would steal boats for drug-running activities.
He didn't agree with the precept that if they could make such a destructive thing everybody else had it already. That was just paranoia and had no real place in a government. Others thought differently and so now here he was babysitting a vial of the most lethal substance on earth and not happy about it. Taking spy classes was one thing, and a necessary evil in the foreign service game, but this was different. Discovered spies were formally asked to leave a host country, caught ones were traded. Foreign powers harboring a weapon of mass destruction, especially a bio chemical agent of this magnitude, may just be an unforgivable act in the eyes of the world. even china's friends would probably demand inspection or demanded to vacate countries.
A week to secure proper transport they had assured him yet very hurriedly left. Just two weeks he had been promised. He'd seen the effects of the Ebola virus, he was afraid of it. Nobody deserved such a death. It had no honor and the sample in the vial was reputed to be easily one hundred times worse. Mysterious men that didn't exist and carried high level orders, they would bring the end of the world he had no doubt. They would stockpile such a thing and claim it was 'in case of the need for retaliation'. They were worse than the Russians had been back during the cold war.
The worse thing was there was no antigen to fight exposure to the substance if there was an incident. The Americans or Cubans would have to drop nuclear bombs practically to render the island safe. Even the head of security's shark pool didn't bother him as much as that small vial did. It had been him that welcomed them with open arms, a praise seeking ladder climber. The Ambassador would be glad when he rotated out as well. The only good news to come across his desk was the announcement of a very original ballet production that would be opening soon with its premier here in Nassau.
His mother had been a dancer and had taken him to see many performances. Over time he grew to enjoy the art. Never had beauty and discipline been so perfectly combined in his mind. It truly was an expression of peace. The news gave him something good to look forward to.
Dannigan felt like world-class slime and Rodrick Mason's punch to his jaw only punctuated it. The shattered glass coffee table resulted when he fell over from the second punch. That had stopped them both. Rodrick would defend her, but destroying her house and its furnishings weren't a good way to do it.
"I won't deny I deserved that," Dannigan admitted.
"You deserve more than that Paul! You're gonna help me clean this up too before she kills us both," Rodrick said hotly as he brought a trashcan over and they both started picking up shards of glass.
Rodrick and Dannigan both froze when Lyssa muttered from the doorway,"wonderful. leave you two jackasses alone for a few minutes and you trash my house."
Neither said anything but continued to collect up the glass as she stepped back into her shoes, walked over to the bar and drank some of her wine. A few minutes later Rodrick ran the vacuum over the rug while Dannigan picked up the mangled frame and set it outside. They both sat down and took a drink.
Several moments passed in silence then Lyssa finally spoke, "You two are going tomorrow for a new table. You're gonna pick it out Rodrick and you're gonna pay for it Major."
She drained her glass then walked to her bedroom. A few minutes later water could be heard running into the bathtub. Several minutes later Rodrick heard the muted splash of Lyssa settling in. They finished cleaning up and he pointed to a spare bedroom then locked the outer doors and walked into the main bedroom closing the door behind him.
Dannigan looked at the door Rodrick and Lyssa had went through and said in a low voice to himself," I've got no choice but ask her to go in. There's nobody except you and me for her to talk to. She's too deep and dark for anybody else. God damn us all, but this is the way it is."
CHAPTER 3
Kwan sent the encrypted email: verified. All secure.
There would be no response unless a problem had presented itself or the timetable had been moved up. A spy trawler would be passing through to pick up the vial and take it to a secure lab off the coast of China. He would be accompanying the vial and then onto a very good assignment. Something where his skills would serve him very well.
The fool ambassador thought that all problems had a peaceful solution. That was the downfall of those who studied Arts, Literature and Political Sciences. Kwan had studied at the university at Beijing while Chang had went to Oxford and UCLA, the westernized fool. His kind were the downfall of every nation but luckily outnumbered by ones like Kwan who would make sure china dominated. He had thought of many ways this new tool could be used.
That's all it was, a tool. Like weapons or currency or information, a tool that when correctly used brought any problem to a solution immediately. He definitely knew how to use tools correctly. Beijing would find at least one of his ideas alluring. A nap for two hours and then he would start the day with the rest of the embassy at six a.m.
Lyssa's scream echoed through the house as she bolted upright in the bed. Rodrick slowly made her aware of his presence by a soft whisper of her name then gentle touch. Slowly he eased up to sit beside and bring her into his arms as her shivers started.
Over the years the condition was being clinicalized and made to seem less devastating. Post-Traumatic Stress, Delayed Stress, Combat Exhuastion,Battle Fatigue all were the names used to make it less hurtful to doctors, lawyers, loved ones. Didn't matter what you called it, Rodrick knew Shell Shock when it woke him up in the middle of the night. When the beautiful woman in his arms woke him up screaming.
He hear the soft click of the door. Dannigan had been awoken.
'Serves him right,' Rodrick thought.
The previous nights had been better; waking to a gasp and turning to him quickly. Not this time. It was back full bore. It took a while to bring her back, like being back to those first nights back. Finally her shaking stopped, she was back and eased out of Rodrick's arms. He let her go silently.
Putting on her bikini, shorts, t-shirt and running shoes she then slipped quietly out of the house. He clenched his fists but otherwise didn't move, he didn't have to. She'd ride the bike fifteen miles out then back and then strip down to the bikini and run the beach and swim back. Her time was coming down daily. Rodrick was slowly starting to hate himself for not being able to stop her.
Rodrick woke again at seven-thirty and got out of bed. A quick shower and shave then dressed and walked to the kitchen. Dannigan joined him just as the coffee finished brewing. Rodrick set out three cups and poured two. The first few sips were in silence.
"Where is she,"Dannigan asked finally.
Rodrick glanced at the clock and answered,"probably swimming back now."
"How far,"Dannigan asked glancing to the doors that now stood open to the beach.
"Twenty-five miles. Biked thirty round trip, ran twenty-five out, swimming twenty-five in," Rodrick listed.
"She training for a triathalon," he asked puzzled.
"No," He replied," I tried to keep up with her for a while. No, she's torturing herself over whatever went on in Columbia you asshole."
Dannigan sighed,"she tell you?"
"No and don't insult her like that again or I'll do more than just throw a couple of punches,"Rodrick warned coldly, smacking the cup down.
"No insult, just asking,"Dannigan said flatly,"You don't know, I'll fill you in."
Half an hour later Rodrick walked out onto the deck. Now he remembered why he gave up being a SEAL to fly. Most loads were legit, a handful here and there were questionable and then the occasional black load for the various government agencies but for the most part that world was behind him and he liked it that way even though he couldn't help be drawn to Lyssa.
She was a different kind of operator, the kind that went deeper and deadlier than his kind. That adage of those old Blackbird pilots came to mind, 'Alone and unafraid'. she did work alone and she had been unafraid. Now the price was being paid, you can be successful and still fail.
Mission accomplished versus mission success, there was a world of difference and he knew it. Everybody knew it, even though the office jockeys tried to deny it. He'd been there and understood but not like her. She was the kind of operator that worked in front of everybody, hiding in plain sight, borderline or outright suicide missions that absolutely could not fail.
The kind of operators that worked like that did so for one of two reasons, either they were so unstable they couldn't do anything else, and therefore didn't last long, or they believed they were almost created for to serve a higher purpose such as honor. Not the bullshit concept of honor that most flaunted; real honor. Freedom and justice, 'The duty of the mighty: to defend the weak,' That was the oath of the Knights of Camelot or so he'd heard.
It wouldn't matter what the mission was, she'd take it. She'd always take the missions. No matter how well she danced or who's clothes she modeled that would always be a means. The missions were her life and now he knew it. He'd buried enough teammates in the past and it jaded him into leaving. This was different though. The more he learned about her, the less he understood. Each new piece of the puzzle left a bigger gap in the picture of Lyssa Kordenay. Long ago it was the girlfriend looking in from the outside and he complained that she'd never understand. Now he was the one looking in, even though he had a key to the door.
Lyssa was walking up from the surf, exhausted. Fifteen minutes faster than yesterday. Driven by rage, frustration and most importantly; shame she turned her self-imposed punishment into accomplishment. The former SEAL walked down to the lounge chair and wrapped a towel around her.
Lyssa looked up,"I'm sor.."
Rodrick pressed his finger to her lips cutting her off.
"No Lyssa, don't apologize. Not to me," he looked into the dove grey eyes that allowed the real pain to show through from the exhaustion,"i'm here because i want to be. You don't owe me anything. My choice."
Tears welled in her eyes and Rodrick tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The tears fell then and continued for a while. when she finally calmed he kissed her gently then wiped the tears with the pad of his thumb then helped her up,"C'mon you need to eat."
Dannigan disconnected the call as they walked in.
"Madison says hello,"Dannigan said.
Lyssa nodded as she poured coffee for herself then started making breakfast with Rodrick. After she set the dishes in the racks and turned on the dishwasher Lyssa turned to look at Dannigan.
Her steel colored eyes bored into him, "I'll do it."
Rodrick silently closed his eyes in anger then opened them and said,"Not alone. I'm in too."
"There's a ballet going to premier in Nassau in a week and will run for four nights,"Lyssa said.
"Oh? Now that's perfect,"Dannigan remarked,"The Chinese ambassador is big on arts especially ballet,his mother danced."
"Ok, I'll call Andre and tell him I'll dance,"Lyssa said.
CHAPTER 4
Andre was thrilled. Everyone had taken to the music, a techno-mix, and were dancing with classical discipline. Lyssa herself was at top form. Hours of rehearsal barely showed and she was enjoying the music. Especially one solo set to a remix of Delerium's After All featuring Jael. She kept saying the music wasn't loud enough. Four of the speakers had been laid face down then, making the music vibrate through the stage and the response was great. That resulted in better timing and precision. Various people of stature had asked to watch these late rehearsals but he denied them. Strangely enough the one person that he thought would insist on watching didn't ask. Lyssa's new boyfriend. As protective as he seemed, he wasn't smothering her or flaunting possessiveness like some do. Boisterous yet confident of himself and of her as well.
Andre had to admit though, the man was roguishly charming and wore a tuxedo as if a second skin. A reception thrown by the ambassador of China had been amazing. Lyssa had been very enthusiastic meeting him as his mother had been a dancer trained of the same discipline as she and Andre. The photos and programs were a surprise treat they both enjoyed.
Lyssa crouched just inside the embassy wall it was just after two a.m. The guards would change at seven and dawn would break at just before six. The new guard shift would conduct P.T. at six. She would have to be out before four-thirty. Rodrick waited close by with a helicopter equipped with a long cable hooked to the underside, a STABO rig, to pick her up off the roof if she needed a fast extraction.
Her glasses showed where the laser trip-wire grid was as she moved across the ground slowly through the few shadows. Carefully she climbed up the side of the building. It took several minutes to disable the alarm on a window then the pressure plate underneath. Slick move on their part she thought but she'd found it during the tour.
Another twenty minutes gained her a position just under the camera facing the security room. She placed a signal modifier underneath it which duplicated what the camera saw. Like taking a picture and holding it infront of the lens, but more reliable. The pressure plate inside the door was harder to negotiate.
Finally she was decrypting the safe. That took ten minutes. A tripwire inside was anticipated, but not the thermite charge. A burn safe. She managed to disable it then took out the case and verified the vial inside. Retracing her steps went by the numbers until a random guard roving the interior stopped to look out the window. The same window she needed to exit through.
A lifetime in three minutes waiting. Lyssa focused on the wall behind her and let it fill her mind, masking the projection of her presence. The guard searched his pockets, produced cigarettes and a lighter then moved down the hallway. He then lit the cigarette and continued on. Lyssa breathed slowly then made her way to and out the window resetting the systems as she went.
Three roving guards approached her position by the wall. One stepped on a discarded garden tool. It wa like an old slap-stick routine; the handle came up hitting him in the face. Unfortunately his finger had been on the trigger of the assault rifle, several rounds went off. Lyssa tucked in closer to a shrub as lights came on and guards shouted.
She whispered into her comm to Rodrick,"Start engines."
Several men came running to the area, including the man she recognized as the head of security. The joking and laughing stopped immediately when he demanded to know what happened and where was the intruder. They all pointed at the ground.
Kwan looked down and saw only the discarded hoe. He picked it up and started screaming at the man, then holding it by the head started beating him. Three blows and the handle snapped. The men scattered as he stomped around the circle berating each one until he stood alone.
Lyssa held her breath and filled her mind with the image of the shrub. Kwan finally started picking up the discarded tools then walked back to the building still bellowing at any man he saw. the Lights clicked off.
Lyssa immediately slithered from the shrubs, launched herself up the wall and was over it in moments. Quickly sliding into the ditch on the other side of the road. She had crawled to the corner,bolted up and started running when the alarms went off again. apparently he checked the safe and discovered the loss of the case. Lyssa made her way through the business area at full speed apprising Rodrick of her location and status.
As a set of headlights turned onto the street she felt the rotorwash from over head and the cable dropped beside her.
She quickly snapped the ring to her harness and yelled,"GO!!"
Lyssa was yanked off the ground then felt the wind rip past as Rodrick sped them both to his private airfield on a nearby island. Once on the ground Lyssa unsnapped the carabiner and ran to a F-117 nighthawk. a ladder propped against the side allowed her to hand the case to the pilot then she jumped down as a ground-man took the ladder away. Two minutes later the stealth plane was rising off the runway and heading north.
Dannigan sat in a top box watching the ballet. Though he couldn't see, he knew Rodrick waited in the wings. Though the music was far different from what was normally played for ballet, the production was the best he'd ever seen. As Lyssa took her final bow he joined the rest of the audience standing to applaud.The Chinese ambassador was conspicuously missing. He'd been seen boarding a plane along with several members of the security staff.
Dannigan used his phone to order fresh roses to be delivered to her house on Grand Cayman the next day, the arrangement would be waiting on the doorstep. Maybe now the Steel Butterfly could find some peace and come to terms with the past. Her meeting Rodrick Mason had been a fluke. Dannigan didn't even know she'd met him, but it was working out better than if he'd planned it. They had the rare gift of understanding each other, for the most part. Right now though, they were both seemed happy. Paul Dannigan was, but Madison would be upset. He saw the live performance, again, and she'd have to settle for a dvd.
Book 12 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa's preferred currency, the omnipresent favor, brings Rodrick's past slamming to the forefront! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa chuckled looking at her facebook page. The cigarette boat rep Jim Sutton wanted a callback. Why not, Rodrick would be doing his pilot thing for another day transporting some cars to an auto show. Lyssa searched and found Sutton's number and dialed.
He answered on the second ring,"Jim Sutton."
"Hey Jim, its Lyssa, what's up," she asked.
"I'm in a really bad spot and need help," Jim said.
"Well what's the problem, need models for a new ad campaign," Lyssa chuckled.
"Oh god I wish it was something that simple, you wouldn't happen to know anybody that does repo work do you, " Jim pleaded.
Lyssa asked "Repo work? you mean somebody isn't paying for their boat? where at?"
"Yeah Lyssa I'm really in a bad spot. The guy I sent to go get the boat....well they put him in the hospital, its in the Keys,"Jim explained.
"Wow that is bad, who's trying to make off with a free boat," she asked.
Jim answered,"Randall Kagan."
"Oh hell.....you're lucky your guy only got sent to the hospital,"Lyssa admitted.
"You know him," Jim asked shocked.
"Not personally. His reputation precedes him," Lyssa sounded bitter.
"Reputation," Jim sounded puzzled,"I'm going to hate this aren't I?"
"yeah, not alot of models that work more than one season in the Miami area will go near him or his parties. Mention his name backstage and the girls hide,"Lyssa said flatly.
"Oh great," Jim groaned,"Lyssa please tell me you know somebody, anybody that might be able to get the boat back."
"Send me the location and I'll see who I know and how much they'll do it for," Lyssa said then wrote down where he said then disconnected.
She went to her computer and pulled up the location. Not bad, she knew a photographer in Key West that could get her close enough to swim in. A quick peek from a civilian satellite presented a different story. There were too many bouys around the guys place. Something about Kagan's place said stay away.
The ringing of her phone interrupted. It was Rodrick Mason, he was on his way back early. The client had to remove himself from the auto-show; he'd had a heart attack. Rodrick was quick to claim it wasn't from the sight of his bill making Lyssa laugh. She assured him that she'd found something diverting to do when he got back. Rodrick groaned, remembering the last time she'd found something for him to do. It consisted of going around the island with her control, Dannigan, in search of a suitable coffee table to replace the one they'd broken. Lyssa laughed and disconnected then called the office.
Madison answered on the first ring.
"Hey Madi, I need a favor,"Lyssa said.
"For you anything," Madison quipped back delighted to hear her voice.
Lyssa asked for any and all information on the Florida key and its resident. Turned out he had a DEA and a customs file that was rather thick but the theme was pretty much the same, a smuggler with absolutely no scruples. That and he had a thing for boats and playing rough with his dates. Of Late a non-substantiated assault charge by a local boat re-possessor. That meant either he had local LEO's on the payroll or one serious pitbull of a lawyer if not both. From the file Madison sent were higher resolution satellite imagery.The strange part was the small objects surrounding his boat docks. Their position changed randomly. She'd need to get more "eyes on" intel. Maybe Rodrick knew something about this guy.
Dannigan stepped out,"was that Lyssa earlier?"
"Yes sir, she wanted to know about a guy in the keys....DEA and Customs have files on him," Madison answered.
"And Lyssa wants to know, why," Dannigan asked.
"Not sure but I think it has to do with a boat repo. The guy sent for the boat got put in the hospital. Maybe she knows him," Madison ventured.
"Maybe but I have the feeling this may be one of her 'favor for a favor' exchanges," Dannigan speculated.
That made some sense to Madison. Just as long as Lyssa was doing something and not closing herself off. A European tabloid showed a picture of Lyssa with some man and they seemed very close. Dannigan had been down there around that time but other than being cheerful about a mission being successful he'd not mentioned anything like that. He'd seen her performance for himself. She was miffed about that, because he'd seen her dance several times and all Madison had seen was one recital. Any other time was on DVD. She was going to take some personal time when Lyssa danced again.
Rodrick walked in and had to laugh. On the table was copy of German Vogue open, but the tv was on to a show dubbed in Portugese with Russian subtitles. Dinner definitely smelled latin. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
Rodrick sniffed over her shoulder,"Sure that's enough?"
Lyssa laughed,"yeah, that's mine, what are you having?"
"Yours? I thought you ballerina model types did the whole 'I'll just have a salad and bottle of water' routine," He chuckled.
"Only to fit french designs," Lyssa commented,"you wish I was such a cheap date."
"Yeah well after what you pulled on Paul. I definitely want to be on your good side when it comes to dinner," Rodrick replied.
Lyssa gave him an impish look. Rodrick washed his hands then set the table. They joked as they ate, then Lyssa collected the dishes and cleaned up. Rodrick watched her with a combination of puzzlement and lust, then it dawned on him. a set up, she wanted something.
"Ok so what gives," He asked.
Lyssa smiled then asked," Know a Randall Kagan?"
Rodrick lost all humor,"That's not a name to be casually tossed out Lyssa."
"I'll take that as a yes," she remarked.
"Yeah I know him, "Rodrick said as his face hardened.
Lyssa decided not to beat around the bush," a friend is a sales rep for a cigarette boat company, Kagan bought the boat but he's only made the down payment. A local guy was sent to repo the boat. He's in the hospital."
"Lucky guy," Rodrick said,"Tell your friend to write boat off."
"Ok, you're a SEAL and you're giving this guy a side-step, what's his story," Lyssa asked.
"He's a smuggler and merc. Gives both professions a bad name," Rodrick remarked with undisguised hostility.
Lyssa gave him a look that said she knew he wasn't telling as much as she wanted. Rodrick got up and went over to pour a whiskey and drank then poured another.
"This guy is super bad juju, used to be a SEAL. Specialty was ship to ship ops, still is. Hell he's pretty much become a pirate," he said with a look of distaste.
Lyssa set out a satellite photo,"tell me about his place."
"aw shit! You wanna do this, look...these things in the water. Those are sharks and yes they are known to have eaten people," Rodrick explained," he's got low level radar but modified. he knows when somebody's coming by air or sea and as for underwater, well you can't get in there for obvious reasons swimming around."
"What about a HAHO jump,"She asked.
"You ARE nuts! You'll have to glide in, at least twenty miles, and land on the boat itself," he exploded.
Lyssa simply sat back and smirked at him.
Exasperated Rodrick asked," Ok smart ass. Let's say yes; you did glide all the way in. And yes; you are a member of the lucky club landing on the boat itself. Yippee. Good for you. How, fucking pray-tell, you gonna get it out?"
Rodrick pointed to one of the photos, "those buoys? Not there for decor; they mark a fence that rises 5 feet out of the water and there's no remote to open it."
"I have a boyfriend that's an awesome chopperjock and we can slingload the boat and me out," Lyssa giggled with a smile.
Rodrick groaned, "finally I have a girlfriend that understands the lifestyle. But she's turning out to be fuckin' crazier than I've ever been."
Lyssa walked over and kissed his cheek," baby. You don't even know the half of it."
CHAPTER 2
Jim Sutton's boss just got through ripping him a new butt. Not only had Kagan stopped paying on the boat, he'd put the only repo man that would try in the hospital. From shark bite. Luckily he got away fast enough to keep his limbs and life. Kagan left a message, short and simple, 'the boat was his and there wasn't anything they could do about it'.
Maybe Lyssa could turn up somebody that could pull off the repo. If she wasn't certain then he'd have to tell her to tell whoever to forget it. He wouldn't lose a friend over this guy, wasn't worth it. He wouldn't mind some fun time with her either, but a friend down in Nassau said it looked like she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend with a reputation. Alledgedly he was a smuggler, not a whole lot of people talked about that, just that he ran a charter service. Maybe he knew somebody.
Lyssa checked her HAHO jump rigs; she had three. One for morning, evening and night. One of Rodrick's guys would fly the plane she would jump from while he waited nearby with a Chinook for the signal. Simple plan; she'd jump in and land hopefully on the boat itself or the dock then send the signal. While Rodrick flew in with the powerful twin rotor helicopter, she'd rig the straps and shackles and be ready with a static discharge wire running down one to the water. After pickup, the boat with Lyssa in it, would be flown to a lake so that even if there were a tracking device it wouldn't do Kagan any good. The lake didn't connect to the ocean above ground.
The boat could be retrieved only by truck or helicopter. Jim would be waiting with a truck and trailer. Not an overly complex plan. Too many moving parts and murphy could throw a wrench in it. Not so simple it was specifically countered. Anybody just showing up at his door was automatically suspect. Kagan was the type that would definitely look a gift horse in the mouth.
An ex-SEAL meant he probably had the boat wired with at least three trackers and two shape charges. The charges would be stable to handle the erratic sea so they'd have to be quick and probably need a signal jammer because he'd have a remote detonator. She would, so he definitely would. One thing for certain, she'd have to fight her way out.
Her load-out was complete: lead with a CAR-15, back up with two Jerichoes( .40 caliber automatics), six reloads, two microsyrettes in her boots, a garrote tucked into a pouch on the shoulder strap and finishing out with the Marauder knife along the back of her right thigh and a Fairbarn-Sikes knife slung inverted to the other shoulder strap. For party favors she pulled two DefTec-25 flash-bangs, a white phosphorous smoke grenade, a concussion grenade and four fragmentation. It was her basic "Hop 'n Pop" rig without any precision charges for breaching walls or doors.
All that was fine and good, the boat would be retrieved but Kagan would be beyond pissed off and he'd want to take that mad out on somebody. First guess would be Sutton because he was the rep and likely the one contracting the repo work, if he got his hands on Jim then it would only take a couple minutes to get her name. Kagan would have to be dealt with. He'd made alot of enemies; if a few were to find out that he would be in a certain place.....at a certain time......
Dannigan read the email a second time and was still as confused as he was the first time. Lyssa wanted to know the top five people screwed over by Randall Kagan and not any agencies. The list was very long but he pulled the five most vicious. Two drug distributors, an arms dealer, a high end smuggler and a pirate. He wondered what the hell she was up to. A call would put those pieces together....he hoped. Lyssa's carribean number was answered on the second ring and Danigan didn't waste time.
"What the hell are you up to now," he asked.
Lyssa laughed,"afternoon to you too."
"Does Rodrick know what you're up to," Dannigan asked.
Lyssa answered,"uh-huh. He'll be helping me with this."
Dannigan asked warily, "Is this one of your favor for a favor things?"
"yeah, a boat sales rep sold a boat to Kagan. He made the down payment but nothing else, sent the repo guy to the hospital, I'm gonna creatively take him out of the picture," Lyssa explained.
"Too bad he can't be brought back in," Dannigan lamented.
"What's his deal anyway, Rodrick got really tight-lipped about it," Lyssa asked.
"A lot of bad blood between them two. Rodrick was on Kagan's team once," Dannigan said.
"Kagan sell out," Lyssa asked.
"He started running his own ops, dummied up mission plans,etc. Two of the boats he uses now he got from those bogus missions. When the brass got wise Rodrick got tapped to take him down. Rodrick got sold out by one of the others and it went nasty. the team was divided about it. Three killed and your boy spent a month in the hospital. He resigned his commission when he got out. He was already rated to fly so that's what he went with. The rest is history," Dannigan finished.
"That the candy-coated version,"Lyssa asked.
"You could say that. Look the Navy isn't thrilled about it and I even tried to recruit Rodrick once. He runs the occasional black flight for agencies but that's as close as he gets to working for us...well the thing between you two," Dannigan replied.
"The 'thing between us' I still don't know what to make of it," She commented.
Dannigan sighed,"Look. You both got raw deals. Rodrick was betrayed by people he trusted, you were betrayed by people you didn't even know. For him its an issue of trust, he lost his faith in people and left. You pulled a lone ranger and do everything by yourself. One day you two might work things out between each other. I know one thing though, you look and work good together."
Dannigan disconnected leaving Lyssa with more to think about than just tactics and strategy. She'd noticed the three round scars on his back long ago and recognized them for gunshot wounds. Now she knew their origin. That changed things. This favor just became free. Lyssa started studying the Keys and picked one thirty miles away. No houses but a small cove. She could spend the day prepping that little island, in fact she would.
Rodrick flew low and fast. The small seaplane touched down then slid into the cove and onto the beach. Lyssa climbed out and stepped lightly out of the surf as Rodrick followed.
"Ok, what's the grand plan here,"He sighed.
"Follow me. Watch and learn well," Lyssa said.
Her beautiful face like a mask of stone as she walked inland through an opening in the scrub. Rodrick watched as she began setting up the first set of tripwires to a simulator. Further down she dug a pungi pit and lined it with the sharpened sticks. Directly to the opposite side a grenade attached to a palmetto with a stick pressed to the spoon that when kicked or stepped on would release and detonate. Then she started working in rings, alternating harassing and debilitating and killing sets.
Rodrick couldn't believe what he was seeing. Traps and triggers he'd only heard of and many he knew nothing about. Very few were standard. Those he recognized were the kind they were taught in Army's special warfare school by green berets. SEALs used different set-ups from Special Forces he knew. A couple looked they came straight off the Ho Chi Minh trail. What Rodrick did know was he was watching a true expert at work. Rodrick frowned and began to wonder if the rumors of women in Special Forces were true.
Hours Later she finished with a ring of assault rifles around a clearing. Rodrick had heard that was a trick Delta Force used. He frowned again; every time he got another piece of the Lyssa's puzzle, the picture became more out of focus.
CHAPTER 3
The back ramp of the plane lowered, Lyssa looked out and saw the stars. Overhead the red indicator light came on so she stood up and walked slowly to the doorway. Rodrick was standing by with his Chinook. He still didn't like the operation even though he was very impressed with the island set up.
The dark sky looked peaceful as Lyssa looked out. The light turned green and the Loadmaster Carl called out,"GO!!!!" Lyssa threw herself forward out of the plane. The wind ripped by as she fell. A glance at her displays and she corrected her course then watched as the altimeter counting down to the deployment.
When the numbers flashed Lyssa pulled the handle and felt the hard slam of opening shock. She looked up and saw the canopy billow with all risers intact and even. The quarter moon and light cloud cover wouldn't silhouette her dark grey Vector paraglider and the carbon-fiber oxygen tank wouldn't reflect any radar signals. Literally there was no metal presentable to reflect light or signals.
At two thousand feet she was on final approach and unhooked the tank and helmet to drop away into the sea. A pull on the right toggle spun her back inland. At the last second she saw a figure standing on the dock and lined up on him.
Too late he heard the snapping of the canopy and turned just in time for Lyssa's boot to slam into his chest as she cut away the chute. It wasn't Kagan. She gained her footing then searched him. The remote on his belt was quickly snatched away. a spare bootlace secured his wrists and she dragged him onto the boat then radioed to Rodrick.
It took only seconds to set up the signal jammer then hook the lift straps and drop the static discharge wire into the water. She checked the time, the Chinook would be inbound in two minutes so the mooring lines were cut.
Lights came on around the compound as the sound of the helicopter's rotors broke overhead . Lyssa snapped the lightsticks to show she was ready and Rodrick dipped lower. A tap drew off the static charge coursing down from the rotors and then she snapped the shackle onto the hook and waved to the crew chief. Lyssa then ran forward to the bow of the boat and hung on as it was lifted up. Several men opened fire at the big helo.
Lyssa brought the CAR-15 up and triggered off several short bursts then she palmed a flash-bang and pitched it. Two 180 decibel bangs followed by a one million candle power strobe. a float helicopter bobbed at the end of the dock. Lyssa pulled the pin and dropped the white phosphorous grenade. It popped just overhead and globs of the burning phosphorous dropped over the helicopter and dock setting both on fire. Moments later the fuel tank of the helicopter exploded. Kagan and company were now restricted to the water as the Chinook flew fast out of sight.
Kagan bellowed at his men,"Where the hell is Mcquire, he has the damn detonator!"
None indicated they knew the man's whereabouts. He stomped down the dock followed by his men. The float-copter was a total loss.
"Who was on the radar," Kagan demanded.
A man stepped forward,"I was Skip."
Kagan immediately shot the man's knee out then pushed him into the water. The already agitated sharks swarmed and attacked taking him underwater.
"While the sharks are busy get the gate open and fire up the boats,"He ordered, "Grab everything that kills!"
Moments later engines roared as men jumped onto a boat carrying assault rifles and wearing vests for ammunition. Kagan didn't know who pulled this or how but when he caught them they'd be mailed back to that idiot salesman, postage due. Whoever they were, they were good; the only possible way in had been to swim through the shark teeming water or come in from the air. Nothing had shown on the radar except the Chinook. Ian paid the price for that failure. The tracking signal was steady though, they'd be on them in half an hour.
Rodrick set the boat down gently in the cove and the crew chief unhooked the shackle. His the crew chief ran up and took the controls. Rodrick ran down to the back ramp and jumped, landing in the water like a javelin then popping back up and climbing aboard the boat.
Lyssa had already started searching the boat but Rodrick found the charges and the trackers then froze seeing her captive. Tom McQuire. Lyssa sat and looked on, her face bearing her unique pattern of black markings. He thought they were beautiful when he'd seen them before. Even more so now.
"Familiar face," she asked with a steady voice.
"oh yeah,"Rodrick answered," hey there Hi-wire Mcquire, long time."
"Hi-wire," Lyssa asked,"don't tell me this guy came from the circus?"
Rodrick answered,"So said his mama was an acrobat and his alledged daddy was a wire walker. The guy fell and died so nobody really knows for sure."
They moored the boat to a chain attached to a coralhead.
"Kagan's comin' Ramrod,"McQuire sneered,"gonna get you're little sweetie there too."
Rodrick sputtered with laughter,"You're lucky I'm here to save you from her and by the way, she did a 18,000 foot HAHO jump to get to this boat and you don't wanna know what she does for a hobby. It involves wiping out entire cocaine cartels in a matter of hours."
"Awwwww. You make me blush," Lyssa smiled coldly," Let's get him ashore. A proper hostess should be ready to greet our guests."
Rodrick chuckled as he pitched McQuire overboard then dove in and dragged him to shore as lyssa eased into the water and waded to the beach.
"Put him further in. Make them work for him,"Lyssa instructed.
Rodrick nodded then set out down the trail walking McQuire in front of him. Lyssa sanitized the back-trail and arming all the traps then concealed herself in a spider-hole at the edge of the scrub. It was disguised as a pungi pit.
The wait wasn't long. She heard the deep roar of the engines as the boat came into the cove. Lyssa stilled herself and filled her mind with the mental picture of the trail above her. It wasn't verifiable fact that such technique really worked, but many experts swore by it. Mentality was always a major factor in battle so why not utilize the technique. She had to stifle a giggle hearing Kagan and his men angry that the boat wouldn't start and chained underwater to a coral head below. She pressed the button on the remote. The two charges they'd relocated from the boat went off sending up water and sand. Right on cue, Rodrick let out a bellow and then a quick burst from his assault rifle.
Kagan immediately took charge,"Slow down guys....McQuire may or may not bought it but we ain't about to run down the snake's throat."
The pointman took two steps forward then leaped back as his footing had started to give way. He signaled 'danger immediate' and they all froze. Kagan moved forward slowly to look at the spot of sand his pointman indicated. He pressed down with the barrel of his rifle. A sand covered grass mat gave way to reveal the hole lined with sharpened sticks.
"Gloves are off, no more screwing around," Kagan ordered, "I want these fuckers!"
CHAPTER 4
Rodrick watched quietly waiting for anyone to show themselves. He'd secured McQuire to a palm tree and booby trapped him with a grenade. A twig snapped in the distance, it was one of them not Lyssa. A moment later another noise caught his attention: a scream cut short. A flare went off then shots, a moment later a grenade exploded then somebody screamed loud and long until a single shot silenced him. A flash-bang went off next then a volley of auto-fire.
Suddenly he felt a presence and heard a whispered,"shhhhh. its me."
Rodrick relaxed, the woman was a ghost. Gone into the scrub again. Another grenade went off followed by burst of auto-fire. He knew she was leading with a CAR-15 and they favored MP-5's. The last burst came from Lyssa. He swore he saw a nearby bush move then someone elsewhere stood up and started running towards it, firing from the hip. Rodrick triggered off a burst and the figure cartwheeled.
Lyssa watched as someone stepped wrong and their foot went down into a pungi pit. He drew a lot of attention yet no gunfire or investigators. They were waiting for her to go in close then they'd spray the area with their subguns. Lyssa knew their tricks better than they did. She circled wider and removed one with her knife. She found another crawling to what he thought was a better position. He found himself facing the muzzle of a suppressed pistol. Lyssa stroked the trigger, the auto-loader chugged once.
Rodrick heard a concussion grenade go off on the far side and saw more bushes move. He understood now, she was driving them to the small clearing. Someone slithered close to the edge of it, then two more and another three. On impulse he flattened himself to the ground. A group of claymores went off.
"When the hell did she set those up," he asked himself.
A minute went by, then another. Finally someone stood and called out for Kagan. The only response was a short burst from an MP-5 and he dropped. Two more grenades went off in the distance. a snap and then a scream followed by a single pistol shot.
All became deathly still for a few tense minutes then McQuire yelled out,"HERE!!! I'm over here! Kagan over here!"
Rodrick moved closer then saw the large silhouette of Randall Kagan slowly rise up facing the palm McQuire was tied to then bring up his MP-5. Suddenly the dark figure had a shadow. It moved on its own, bringing the rifle butt hard to the back of Kagan's head and they both dropped to the ground.
Two minutes later he heard a whisper,"all clear."
Rodrick watched as Lyssa slowly stood up close to him. He had to chuckle.
"Follow me honey, mama brought home the bacon," Lyssa said coldly.
They walked over and there was Kagan, face down bound wrist and ankle.
"Wow, who should we give him to," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa shrugged,"I just gift wrap, you're the delivery guy."
They both laughed but were cut off by McQuire swearing at them.
Rodrick looked into Lyssa's bright eyes,"we need both of them?"
Lyssa pulled her right pistol and detached the supressor,"is he the one?"
"Yeah, he's the one," Rodrick said grimly taking the Jericho from her.
Lyssa untied Kagan's ankles and dragged him up,"I'm not getting paid for this so don't tempt me into creative expression asshole."
Just as Lyssa and Kagan reached the waterline; the first shot was heard with several more intermittently as they waded out to the boat.
Ten minutes later Rodrick waded out and climbed up onto the boat,"thanks."
"better now,"she asked.
"Yeah, that was a long time coming. So what are we gonna do with him,"Rodrick asked.
" A coast guard crew is inbound, they'll get him to shore and then Dannigan will take over. This boat will be given back to the company,"she explained.
"Oh. what about that other boat," he asked pointing to the sport boat.
Lyssa answered, "well he killed the owner of it to get, so I'd say: one for me. I know a guy that can do some interesting things with boats."
A searchlight then lit and played back and forth across the cove. The coast Guard announced itself a moment later. They took possession of the cigarette boat and the Rogue SEAL and left without asking questions.
Dannigan watched the live stream. A sniper took his position then chambered a round into a Barrett sniper rifle then a split screen came up. He was seeing the sniper and what the sniper was targeting.
a voice came over the speakers," target acquired, standing by to fire."
Dannigan typed in a single word.
Another voice came over the speakers,"sniper you are cleared to fire at will."
He replied,"Firing."
A moment later the rifle bucked. The picture distorted then cleared as the round slammed into Randal Kagan just below his neck. The head almost completely severed as blood blasted backward from the round.
"Solid hit. target is down; hard. Traitorous bastard," the sniper announced.
Dannigan shut down the video then gathered his coat and briefcase and left.
Rodrick stared as Lyssa reclined naked on the lounge chair on the deck of the small yacht.
"you look entirely too comfortable here,"he commented.
"Not yet,"She replied then held up a bottle of tanning oil.
Rodrick took the bottle and proceeded to smooth some onto her.
"If it bothers you, we can sell the boat and buy one or donate to a charity or something," Lyssa said.
"That's not it. A lot to process; Kagan, McQuire. How damn good you really are at what you do. I mean yeah you're a great dancer and an Operator the likes of which I've never seen before. I've never been to a real runway show before but I can make a safe bet you're awesome at that too," Rodrick listed.
That got her undivided attention, she sat up,"Rod you aren't intimidated are you?"
Rodrick sat for aminute then looked at her and said,"well.....yeah I guess maybe i am a little."
Lyssa smiled,"Don't worry baby, I'll keep you safe. all you have to do is love me and tell me I'm pretty."
Rodrick smiled back," that's easy enough because you are and I do."
Lyssa raised up and kissed him," I'm all your's hotrod."
They both laughed and relaxed the rest of the day.
Book 13 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Its off to Paris for a runway show, but strange things are going on around The City of Lights. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa answered on the third ring running from the studio to the living room, "hello?"
"Lyssa," asked a very familiar voice.
"John? John Galiano," she asked.
"yes Lyssa so glad I got the right number, today has been...let's not talk about that. Lyssa I know this is very short notice but I really need you for a collection," John spoke quickly.
"How fast do you need me john,"Lyssa asked looking at the calendar.
"I need you to be on the next flight to paris from whereever you are," John said flatly.
"Good lord John! are you serious," Lyssa exclaimed.
John hesitated for a moment,"Lyssa you don't know?"
"Know what," she asked confused.
"It's Mirabella, she was killed last night in a car crash. I've been trying to find a replacement all day that is close to her size. Please tell me you can come Lyssa,"he pleaded.
Lyssa had already started checking the airlines, "John there is a flight that will arrive in paris at 6 a.m. local. if i hurry I can be on it," she answered.
"Yes yes, please save the information and I will personally reimburse your tickets. see you in the morning," he exclaimed.
Lyssa disconnected, she had 4 hours til the flight left. Strange though, it was too late for the summer show and too early for the fall/winter collection. Lyssa had only walked the spring/summer, fall/winter shows and knew the schedules. This show was out of the blue for her. She hurried through a shower then styled her hair, made-up, dressed and packed. Lyssa had Andrea from her restaraunt to the airport. In the First Class lounge she had a salad and called Rodrick. He didn't answer, not surprising.
Rodrick was flying his C-130. They were super-reliable but the noise was the one thing that had never been fixed. She called his service and left a brief message including her Paris number. After disconnecting she switched the phone from the Caribean number to the Parisian. Twenty minutes later Lyssa was taking her seat in the First Class section. In Miami she caught the connecting flight to Paris via New York and London. Taking off from New york she took off her make-up and fell asleep quickly, which was odd.
As of late going to bed alone usually led to restlessness for some time. The attendant woke her up just before London. Lyssa went to the lavatory and rinsed her face with a mix of juice from cucumber and some strawberries mixed with a little champagne followed by ice water then put on fresh make-up back at her seat. Both flight attendants asked for Lyssa's trick after seeing its effects and she was happy to share. Clearing customs took no time at all as most were leaving not arriving. A driver stood on the other side holding a sign with her name. Lyssa rolled her eyes, John must be beside himself waiting for her to get to the studio.
Rodrick touched the C-130 down on the old jungle runway in thailand. All over the world there were such runways used by arms and drug smugglers. Rodrick had many himself but had to use this one as it was closer to where the team wanted to go. a joint task force of CIA,DEA, Interpol, MI-5 and AFP, the Australian Federal Police started unloading from the plane in two jeeps.
The task force had been formed due to the resurgence of heroin originating out of the Golden Triangle again. Opium, and its resulting heroin, had been majorly produced in the 50's to the late 90's when Afghanistan began exporting in bulk followed by latin america. Since the numerous operations to crack down in those areas suppliers had once again looked to border area of Myanmar, Laos and Thailand; The Golden Triangle.
That area had many problems. There was the environment itself, deep triple canopy rainforest filled with the usual assortment of venomous reptiles and insects. There was also the occassional predatory cat. Leftover undisposed bombs, landmines and anti-personnel booby-traps from three major conflicts along with numerous unpublicized ones were scattered everywhere still.
If all that wasn't problem enough, there were also bandits that roamed preying on small villages. Some of those were fifth or sixth generation vietcong fighting enemies long since gone. All of that had to be dealt with and then finally, if you were lucky to find them, an operation would be able to engage the opium producer's forces.
One jeep pulled a trailer. He watched them unload then make their way into the jungle on an overgrown road. It wasn't his airstrip so he couldn't refuel. a quick hop down to Phuket would sort that out. Rodrick would overfly the task force's site every two weeks for a supply drop, they would be on station for three months.
They took off and were touching down in Phuket in less than two hours. While the plane was refueled, the crew grabbed some local food so he called his service. there was three messages including Lyssa letting him know she was in paris for a show and her number there. That sounded very tempting, he'd never seen a runway show before. If you didn't count the victoria's secret show on tv, and he didn't, not since he'd met Lyssa almost a year ago. he really didn't count it since they'd started pretty much living together a month and a half ago.
His place in the Bahamas wasn't much compared to her house in Grand Cayman. he had to laugh at himself, how quickly he forgot she was more than a model, more than a ballerina. Ironically the woman was an Operator. She looked to have all the training of Special Forces A-team in one person and augmented with the counter-insurgency training of a Delta Force trooper. If that wasn't enough to make her impressive, throw in espionage and assassination tradecraft too.
It'd been a long time since Rodrick had been to Paris. The crew showed up just as he was finishing pre-flight. He told them the plan, they were for it since neither had been to Paris before. He filed the flight plan and they were in the air after a five minute wait. They refueled in India followed by Dhubai, Turkey and Italy then flew up to France.
Rodrick had napped on the plane which was strange. Strange that he could fall asleep quickly and not be fitful on the plane. He had tried to sleep at his place next to the hangar. He'd tossed and turned for over an hour then slept for only a few hours and was up again, in a bad mood. The flight crew were noticing it as well; the longer he was away from her the grumpier he got. Rodrick would ask if she was the same but there was nobody to ask. One thing though, she'd probably give him that self-satisfied sleepy look and purr then say yes. The problem was he couldn't decide if that was good or bad.
Mara worked the dial of the safe and heard another click through the hypersensitive headset then slowly spun the dial the opposite direction to catch the next disc then turn it until she heard the next click. Two more times for a total of five then she heard the snap of the pins. A quick turn of the handle and the door opened. She reset the the combination then locked it and started over.
She cracked the safe repeatedly until she had her time down to ten minutes. Pleased, she thought to herself the vault would be no problem, only the station occupants would pose a threat. For that she had the team; Reese for electronics, Antonov for surveillance, Gal and Miki were the weapons crew and Cyrille would drive them anywhere and everywhere they needed to be. They would only have half an hour to get in, open the vault, retreive the files and then get out. The files would fetch quite a price. they would start in twelve hours. first they needed to put things in motion. Starting at the british and american embassies.
Cyrile drove them to the British embassy first. In twenty minutes they had one of the alarm lines and made it trip. The fire alarms sounded and people filed out onto the lawn. By the time the fire department arrived it had been determined to be a false alarm. A jewelry store was next and then a bank. Finally the american embassy.
It took an hour to get into their lines but instead of the fire alarms they set off the carbon monoxide alarms. Not what they wanted but it would do. Making the sytems questionable was the goal. In four hours they'd make the circuit of locations again adding the interpol substation. then again in another four hours. She chuckled to herself watching the people hurry out, some even stumbling down the steps. everyone seemed slightly frightened or highly agitated.
Everyone except a blonde talking on her phone. Mara looked closer, phone blonde wore an aqua colored dress that moved with the breeze too much as she walked on a pair of high heeled sandals. A man in a suit carrying a book or something similar approached her. She showed something and the man wrote in the book and then she wrote as well. An american visitor, she was checking in. Not many tourists did that so she must be in for business. From the way she was dressed and seemed non-plussed Mara figured she must be a model.
Mara sneered then stopped. The woman did something strange. She was taking off her shoes and walking onto the grass. Several people were watching her and clapping. Mara understood now watching as the blonde danced on the lawn. She was a ballet dancer. A few moments of dancing then a sweeping curtsey. Ballerina or model, all the same to Mara. A woman with more looks than brains and probably some rich man's pet. The blonde would be perfect for a ransom if she didn't have something going on already. Perhaps there would be opportunity afterward.
CHAPTER 2
Dannigan's bedside phone rang three times before he answered it sleepily,"This better be good."
"I woke you up.....that's so cool," a feminine voice giggled.
"Lyssa," he grumbled and was answered with another giggle.
"Kordenay its the middle of the night. Where the hell are you to be sounding so chipper," He growled.
"Paris. The Embassy. They have a problem," she commented.
"Its an Embassy Lyssa. Problems are inherent. I blame it on the state department," Dannigan grumped.
"Not this problem...carbon monoxide alarms went off all over the building," Lyssa said.
"Ok, so use your incredible talents as the highly trained specialist you are and tell them to open the windows for a while," he said sarcastically.
"They don't have carbon monoxide sensors according to the DIA girl here," she replied," and the British Embassy had fire alarms go off. Outside the building."
"Outside the building? That makes no sense....even when talking about Embassies,"Dannigan commented.
"Should I look into it,"Lyssa asked.
"Tread carefully Lyssa, you know the assholes over at State hate Operators. Hell, if they had their way there'd be no CIA, FBI, DEA, DIA or DOD presence at all in the Embassies. They regard anytime those have been needed as a break-down of communication to be blamed on any of the agencies," He warned.
"I'll keep it quiet," Lyssa assured him.
Dannigan disconnected then looked at the clock and went back to sleep for a few more hours.
Lyssa sat on the edge of the fountain and fastened the ankle straps of her sandals after dancing for a couple of minutes on the lawn, at the request of the Cultural Attache. The Ambassador called it 'a charming diversion from the current electronic fiasco'. The local spies were entirely too easy to spot, standing around in separate groups talking in hushed tones and looking around at people then nodding or shaking their heads.
She'd checked in with the Embassy. Not something she did frequently but she'd come in on a commercial flight. It was highly encouraged that visitors on vacation or business check in with their Embassy on the day of their arrival and check out the day of departure. Not something she usually did. It gave a trail to follow. Models usually did it when on photo shoots in questionable countries. The problem with that was it actually made them very easy to target. She wouldn't have gone but the driver had been instructed to take her there by John Galiano then to a hotel after the studio.
As Lyssa walked out the gate she got an appraising look from the Marines on guard and rewarded them both with a smile. A cafe across the way looked very convenient. The patrons talking very animated and craning their necks to watch the excitement at the embassy, except two tables with five people. A woman and four men, the woman and one of the men watched intently while the other three men pointedly ignored everything going on.
Lyssa walked over to the cafe then ordered a bottle of juice. The woman looked at her a couple of times with some hostility in her eyes.
"Could you be anymore obvious," Lyssa muttered under her breath to herself, "Why don't they just wear matching t-shirts with 'Bad Guys' written on them."
Question was; what were they up to, making alarms that don't exist malfunction. Maybe that was the catch. She'd visit the Sir Geoffrey at British Embassy after meeting John. Lyssa got into the waiting car and rode to the Dior studio.
Silk, satin and lace was everywhere making lyssa smile, but all of it was in shades of white. Cream, bone, ivory as far as the eye could see. And flowers, lots of flowers. Specifically roses. Lyssa groaned inwardly as the puzzle fit together. The Dior wedding collection. She'd never bothered with bridal collections, others were more enthusiastic about it than she was.
Formals, business, casuals, swimwear, even lingerie were fine but never bridals. She'd pretty much avoided those all together. Too late, John spotted her.
"LYSSA," he called out and waved her over.
"JOHN! You could have told me it was the bridal collection. You know I don't do bridals. Maternity either," Lyssa said crossly.
"Lyssa, Lyssa...please! You are almost, if not the exact same size as Mirabella," he then whispered," I'll double your runway fee. Please, Mira was the primary model of the collection."
John walked over over to where four gowns hung on the forms. Lyssa caught a glimpse of some fabric behind them. It was very colorful, she had to look closer. It was a white chiffon with a print of butterflies in various colors.
"John.....make a dress for me. Overlain with this; strapless, a basque waistline and knee length hankerchief hem with the underskirt just above midthigh and double fee and I'll do it. But ONLY just this once john," Lyssa glared.
"Oh you are vicious Lyssa but for you yes and thank you,"he said as he hugged her,"now will you try these on,please?"
He guided her to a curtained area then brought the first gown to her.
"I want faux pearl buttons down the center front John...." she called out gently putting on the gown making him laugh.
It was early evening as the C-130 touched down at Charles De Gaulle international airport and taxied to the private apron. a Customs team were waiting to inspect the plane and process the crew. An hour later they rented cars and the crew proceeded to a hotel. Roderick called Lyssa to find out where she was, somebody else answered her phone but gave the address to some studio. He hurried over and went in. the receptionist offered a drink in the waiting area. He tried to look but all he saw was white material everywhere.
Two hours Lyssa finally came out,"They just told me you had called and were out here."
Rodrick hugged and kissed her just as John walked out.
"Oh? Who is this Lyssa,"he asked.
"John this is Rodrick Mason. Rod meet John Galiano. Lead Designer; House of Christian Dior,"Lyssa made the introductions.
"OH? Has the elusive Lyssa finally had her heart captured by this dashing man here,"John teased her.
After recieving a blush in response from her and chuckle from Rodrick himself.
"Ah its TRUE, he HAS," John exclaimed," you've done the IMPOSSIBLE! You have my congratulations!"
"I'm just a pilot," Rodrick chuckled shaking hands.
John signalled his assistant,"see to it Lyssa's gentleman has a pass for the show and on the list for the party."
"Party," Rodrick asked,"hope its casual."
"Not to worry. Jazelle will take care of you," John said pointing out a young woman.
Fifteen minutes later Rodrick had a tuxedo and two suits and they were on their way out.
"Hmmm excitement in the big city," Rodrick commented seeing people all but running out of a jewelry store across the street.
Lyssa asked a bystander what was happening and was told the fire alarm had gone off. It was the fourth time but no fire or even smoke. Lyssa slowly scanned the crowd until she found the familiar faces she thought might be there and wasn't disappointed. There they were.
"Ok what's up, you've got that 'I see a senator going for a dip in the secretarial pool again' look," Rodrick commented.
"See that bunch over there, four men and one woman,"she nodded.
"You mean the ones trying desparately to look like they're not up to anything; and failing at it," he asked snarkily.
Lyssa chuckled,"That's them."
Rodrick stood looking at them and asked,"so what you think, casing the place?"
"They were across the street from the U.S. embassy when alarms that don't exist went off,"She said,"word has it the British embassy has a false alarm too."
"Two Embassies and now a jewelry store. Sounds like they want the service unreliable,"Rodrick speculated.
"That would make sense, but the problem is why," Lyssa mused.
"Fucked if I know. What's the local spooks and mooks say," he asked.
"Didn't ask, but one of the secretaries said she'd be glad when the section chief change-overs were done," she answered.
"Well let's see where they go and what they do,"Rodrick offered opening the door of the rental car.
CHAPTER 3
Mara had Cyrille drive them back to the warehouse they were using for a staging area. All was going to plan. They would all sleep for three hours then repeat the circuit one more time then make their run on the real target. A quick stop for food then back to the warehouse. The crew thought the real run would be in the morning before dawn. Good; they would be relaxed until then. Everyone napped except Mara as she practiced the safe once more then took a nap.
Hours later she awoke them all and announced it would be a rehearsal and to bring everything. The van was loaded and they rolled out to cause their mayhem once more. they would start with the jewelry store this time.
Dannigan looked at the list that made no sense, the places that used the same service for their alarm system. Two embassies, one bank, four stores and an Interpol substation. Chatter intercepts revealed that the British and American Embassies where viewing these events as probes and increased security. A second hand store was ignoring it. The one store considered high risk had already called in guards from a different service, four false alarms in one day; they wanted somebody different. He started digging on Interpol to find out what was so special about the substation. This was going to take time. Hopefully Lyssa would come up with something. The Dior bridal show was pending so figuring out what she was doing there was a no-brainer.
Madison buzzed in,"Lyssa on line one."
He snatched up the phone,"Got something?"
She answered, "staging area in a warehouse. Looking at the planning boards, they've been hacking the service and setting off random alarms. Doesn't matter what, just as long as there's a response. Five places are marked."
"What are they," he asked.
"Both the Embassies as we knew already, a bank, what looks like a thrift shop, a jewelry store and an Interpol substation," she listed.
"Ok everybody you said has had problems. What else you got on location," Dannigan continued.
"Rodrick says there's a decent sized vault mock up, too small to be for a bank though," Lyssa repeated.
Dannigan chuckled," why am I not surprised he's with you."
"He said the flight crew was complaining about him being moody or something like that," Lyssa said casually,"I think he just wants to watch me do a runway show."
Rodrick could be heard distantly and Lyssa relayed,"hold on he found something."
She switched to speaker.
Rodrick announced,"I found some building plans."
"Which building Rod,"Dannigan asked.
"Interpol substation Paul. This bunch has some balls,"Rodrick commented.
"Ok, I have no idea why they'd want to go there. Go ahead and shut 'em down, but do it sneaky. Get 'em caught in the cookie jar,"Dannigan said.
They looked at each other."uh....ok," Lyssa said then disconnected.
Rodrick stood at the car and asked,"So how are we gonna do this? Impersonate James Bond and his chick?"
That got a laugh from Lyssa as she opened her travel bag and pulled up the false bottom.
"Too bad they didn't leave any weapons and ordinance behind," she commented.
"Hey I say we're lucky to find what we did," he replied.
"True. I have my battlesuit,boots, a MadDog Frequent Flyer, my Marauder and two Glocks,"Lyssa said.
She pulled out the form fitted black suit then took off her sandals and slipped out of her dress. Rodrick made a low appreciative noise.
"Time for that later hotrod,"She remarked pulling the suit on and zipping it then pulling on her boots and tied the top lacing tight.
Rodrick himself was already wearing black jeans so he simply changed his shirt to a black long sleeve. Lyssa assembled both the Glocks in minutes then loaded the three accompanying magazines each and passed to him one loaded pistol and two reloads keeping the other for herself.
"You know if you ever decided to go into the globe trotting terrorist business you'd be super scary,"He quipped.
"No way. I have to have weekends off. Boyfriend is a sexmaniac," she replied making Rodrick double over laughing.
He was still laughing as they got back into the car.
"You want the MadDog," she asked holding up the knife.
Like many of the new knives under the MadDog brand it had a core of ABS plastic and surrounded by carbon fiber honed razor sharp. He shook his head and pulled up his right pant leg to show his dive knife concealed inside his boot. They set up close to the Interpol substation.
Rodrick used Lyssa's combat paint to streak his face concealing his identity after she painted her unique pattern on herself.
Facial markings among regular troops were standard stripes or smudges but Operators like Special Forces, Delta troopers, SEALs and Force Recon Marines more often than not had a very unique pattern. A pattern that would be recognizable to teammates but no one else. Patterns so well practiced that they could be performed without benefit of mirrors or even light.
This was the third time Rodrick had seen Lyssa's pattern and he was beginning to appreciate the beautiful, yet deadly looking design. They waited for an hour and a half then saw the van finally arrive. Ten minutes later the group bypassed the lock on the door and went inside.
Rodrick slithered underneath the van. Using a multi-tool he disconnected the starter then crawled back out and gave Lyssa a thumbs up.
"So how we gonna do this," he asked.
"Let's keep it simple," Lyssa answered, "get the cops over here then instigate a cross-fire."
Rodrick nodded and followed Lyssa as she walked over to a bank. He chuckled as she picked up a sizable rock and hefted it at the door. It didn't break the laminate glass.
"Try again,"he chuckled at her.
"I'm not trying to break it dumbass, just make the alarms go off," Lyssa replied.
She hefted the rock at a window again with the same result then walked across the street and rattled the doors of a store very hard. Rodrick followed suit now understanding. They met back at the car.
"One of us needs to get this out of sight," Rodrick stated.
"Your rental, I nominate you to the office of valet parking......honey," Lyssa smirked.
"Oh that's mean," Rodrick chuckled then swatted Lyssa on her ass and got into the car.
He parked two blocks away then ran back. a siren could be heard in the distance.
Lyssa re-checked her Glock,"cops or robbers?"
Rodrick thumbed the safety off and answered," dealer's choice babe."
"You take the bad guys this time, can wing 'em if you want. we want 'em super mad," she replied.
A single police car approached. Lyssa crouched and triggered off three rounds pinging the car harmlessly, but definitely getting the officers inside to pay attention. One of the break-in crew looked outside then ducked back inside to dodge rodrick's bullets.
Rodrick yelled, "ARMED POLICE! SURRENDER NOW!"
Somebody fired out the door with an AK-47 spurring Rodrick to dive to the right. Lyssa shot twice more at the police car then moved low and fast through a section of shadow crossing the street. More sirens could be heard now.Somebody else poked their head out the door and the real police took shots at them. the door burst open and they fell over each other onto the sidewalk as a lone figure from behind them tried sneaking off to the side.
"Breakaway! Drive her back inside," Rodrick said quickly.
They both fired shots that ricocheted just left of the figure that retreated back. Ten police cars pulled in to join the shoot out as two AK-47's opened up. The woman tried moving again using the auto-fire for cover. Rodrick swung his aim to the van but held his fire when lyssa spoke out.
"Don't shoot the van, make them think it still runs," she instructed.
"Got it," Rodrick answered chasing the shooters with a couple of bullets.
Lyssa tapped his leg,"extract quietly," she said as she started moving into the alley.
Rodrick moved backward then stood up inside the alley. The team had started shooting at the police now who quickly returned fire. The woman could be heard screaming for someone to start the van and get them out of there. Lyssa and Rodrick both triggered off rounds going high into the van making those inside stay low.
"Grab your brass and let's go," Lyssa ordered as she picked up empty casings.
He did the same then started easing back deeper into the alley. They froze as the police officers passed the alley, one quickly playing the beam of his flashlight around then moving along as the rest concentrated on the van.
CHAPTER 4
Mara didn't understand. The van didn't work and somebody kept shooting first to keep them inside the substation then driving them to the van and now keeping them inside the van. How had things gone wrong so fast. Glass shattered and guns were pointed at them all. Gal and Miki nodded to each other. Mara watched as they raised their AK's and pulled the triggers shooting each other in the face. Doors were wrenched open, she and the two remaining men found themselves staring down numerous gun barrels. They did the only thing they could do, surrender. An interpol agent found the drive with the files on it in her bag and knew what it was instantly. she was done, prison forever for her.
Lyssa pulled make-up remover wipes from her bag and handed two to Rodrick and using two herself to wipe off the streaks of face paint then quickly stripping off the battlesuit and boots. Her dress went on as quickly as it had come off earlier followed by the sandals. She sat down and flipped down the vanity mirror of the visor and quickly put on some make-up. Rodrick started the car and casually drove away.
"Skip the hotel go north,"Lyssa said settling into the seat.
"What about dinner," he asked.
"Get Mcdonald's or I cook,"Lyssa asked.
"I take it you have a house here too," Rodrick ventured.
"Of course. Pull in here real quick," Lyssa replied then pointed to a brightly lit parking lot.
Rodrick pulled in and parked. Lyssa took her purse and went inside, she returned five minutes later with two bags.
"groceries, let's go," she announced.
Rodrick followed the directions as she gave them and soon found a driveway concealed by hedges. Minutes later Lyssa turned on the lights inside and came back out to get the food bags. Rodrick brought in the luggage. She rinsed cookware then started dinner. Rodrick returned and sat at the counter with both pistols.
"Cleaning kit," he asked.
She pointed to a drawer as she stirred something in a pan. He found the kit and started cleaning both Glocks.
"Ha...finished before dinner is ready," He exclaimed.
Lyssa came over and looked at the trigger assembly then handed it to him,"You suck."
"What? where," he asked looking then saw what she meant,"nevermind I see it."
A few minutes later he announced,"now I'm done."
Lyssa looked at both assemblies, the barrels, slides and handed the barrels back to him,"you suck less, keep at it."
Rodrick gave her the 'I am a professional not a recruit' look. She saw it but couldn't quail under it.
"Baby this is not an inspection for the brass, I need those guns absolutely spotless. The sniffers will pick up the scent of cordite if they aren't and I'm blown,"she said.
"Damn. I know better. Sorry. After dinner I'll reclean both," Rodrick said solemnly.
Dinner went by quickly then the cleaning up followed by the cleaning of weapons and clothing then to bed.
Two days later, bright sunlight streamed through the windows as soft romantic music played. The show's narrator spoke in english first then repeated her dialogue in french. Sporadic ooh's and aah's as the models walked the runway. Rodrick sat between a columnist for Japanese Vogue and the head of a modeling agency. It took him two seconds after walking in the door to figure out it was a bridal gown show.
Not exactly what he expected but as the first two models walked down the runway he understood the allure. Apparently a wedding day was every female's chance to be a princess. He did a double take and realized the fifth model was Lyssa. She looked beyond stunning in a gown that left no curve to the imagination, in fact he was mesmorized as she passed. She saw him sitting awestruck and smiled brilliantly.
Rodrick couldn't help be impressed as the show continued and the collection became more elaborate. Satins, silks, lace with embroidery, sparkling stones, ruffles and bows. roses were everywhere. that gave him an idea. he told an assistant what he was doing and disappeared. Lyssa walked the runway again but he was gone, probably to answer a call.
When Lyssa made her third walk he was back and smiling then his smile changed again. A smile that made any compliment backstage pale in comparison. It reminded her of when she danced once with a group of children from a local hospital in the front row. The look from one of those girls was as if looking at either an angel or a moving statue. Rodrick had that same expression.
As Lyssa walked the final time he wasn't in the seat again. He surprised her at the end of the runway as she turned in place then took her pose again. The surprise was the double bouquet of Fire and Ice roses. Lyssa leaned down and kissed him as the cameras flashed. John Galiano walked out then followed by the rest of the line-up straight to the end and shook Rodrick's hand and kissed Lyssa's hand.
At the party after the show John gave Lyssa a box but said very loudly that she was not allowed to open it until the next day. Many of the gossip columnists tried to get interviews or other sources of information about Lyssa and Rodrick. The questions were dodged and the comment made for the record was by John Galiano, remarking that they did look quite attractive together. Finally Lyssa saw an opportunity to make a stealthy exit and led Rodrick out. They laughed all the way back to her house.
Dannigan buzzed the intercom,"Where's Lyssa and Rodrick?"
Madison answered back immediately,"Paris, both of them."
"Send her a message for them to stay put," he said then started coordinating the military hops needed to get to Paris.
Twenty minutes was all it took for him to find the flights and print up the orders to be on them, if he was lucky he'd be there just as they were having breakfast. the first leg was Andrews airbase to Rammstein in Germany then a NATO hop to Charles de Gualle airport in Paris, early morning. A rental car got him to the house to which he knocked on the door. Rodrick answering the door wasn't surprising. The fact that he was naked was.
Rodrick groaned then let Dannigan in. The big spook followed his nose after the smell of coffee and found the kitchen. A couple of minutes later Lyssa in a negligee and Rodrick in a pair of shorts came into the kitchen. He'd never seen Lyssa like this before and couldn't resist the smile.
"One comment out of you and you'll wear that coffee Major," She warned him sleepily.
"I'm here on business. I've got a serious problem and only you and Mason can solve it. due to his recent.....travels," Dannigan stated regaining a serious look.
"My travels," Rodrick asked.
"Thailand. That task force has missed their second check in,"Dannigan answered.
"what task force,"Lyssa asked.
Dannigan showed her the file," International task force on narcotics. Opium trade in the Golden Triangle."
"Shit. Somebody got all nostalgic I guess," Lyssa commented.
"Get ready for jungle ops, at best a rescue. At worst a recovery," Dannigan pulled up the file on his laptop.
Lyssa and Rodrick went through the briefing packet with growing looks of alarm between them. Lyssa finished her coffee then left the room, minutes later the shower could be heard upstairs.
Dannigan handed Rodrick a page,"the gear is being delivered to your plane right now. Good luck Ramrod. And don't let anything happen to our Butterfly."
Rodrick nodded, not missing the use of his old call-sign then watched Dannigan leave. Butterfly he called her, interesting. Butterflies were delicate yet resilient. Able to migrate thousands of miles yet could be crippled with the single stroke of a finger across its wings. He suddenly remembered an old term: Iron Butterfly. It was the old term for when a tomboy grew out of that phase and became more feminine. Lyssa was indeed a butterfly. He'd seen both sides of her and couldn't resist either one. So a shower and off to Thailand. It was go time, once more.
Book 14 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
An international task-force is in jeopardy deep in the jungle, so Lyssa and Rodrick are going into the most dangerous part Southeastern Asia's Golden Triangle!. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Pete couldn't believe the Paris trip was being cut short to go back to Thailand. Hopefully Rodrick was in a good mood now, They knew Lyssa was there and that's why they were too. He'd finally got to see the Eiffel tower and a few other tourist spots. His girlfriend would be upset but He'd make that up to her with the perfume he got for her, he had blended it himself with help from the master perfumer. For five hundred dollars an ounce she'd better like it he thought to himself. Right now though he needed to concentrate on the loading of the two totes that some guy in a U.S. Army uniform dropped off. He didn't have to sign for them so obviously they had to be weapons.
He saw Rodrick walk out of the hangar, Lyssa was with him. No suprise there but she wasn't dolled up like usual. Jeans and a t-shirt and boots. Odd to him. He'd never seen her so casual, shorts and running shoes didn't count. Hell the woman wore high heels with bikinis around her house. The guy in the suit with them was an unknown. Pete got the feeling the big man was a spook, probably the reason they were heading back to Thailand. Kinda strange though. Lyssa gave off the impression that she was coming along. they were heading this way now and without suit guy.
It was good to see Rodrick with somebody cool. the last girlfriend only cared about money, wanted him to sell off the aircraft to pay for her lifestyle. Made no bones about it either; always showing catalogs of jewelry and ugly clothes that cost thousands of dollars. It was funny, Lyssa is what the last one wanted to be but without the snotty attitude, she was actually really nice. He even had standing reservations at her restaurant in Grand Cayman and never got a check, any meal for two was on the house. She didn't hover and nag either. Rodrick respected her, which was new. Not that he treated any woman bad, but Lyssa was different. something about her required you to respect her and he got the feeling that if it wasn't given that respect could and would be taken.
Lyssa stood hand in hand with Rodrick on the tarmac.
"We'll get there as fast as we can Major," she said.
"No mistakes Lyssa. this is indian territory all the way and neither of you are safe until out of Thai/Burmese airspace," Dannigan warned.
"We'll tread carefully Paul," Rodrick said.
"Good luck and take care of each other out there," Dannigan said.
"We will," Lyssa said then she and Rodrick turned and walked toward the plane.
"Looks like Pete has us loaded and ready," Rodrick commented.
"When's Pete gonna breakdown and pop the question to his girl,"Lyssa asked.
"When I get good and damn ready Lyssa," Pete answered as he walked back off the ramp.
She laughed, so did Rodrick as Pete grumbled about meddling bosses and their girlfriends.
Lyssa raised up on her toes and kissed Rodrick's cheek," go ahead and do your pilot stuff so we can go."
Rodrick patted her butt as she stepped up the ramp then took the clipboard from Pete.
"Speaking of bosses, girlfriends and questions; what about you and Lyssa," Pete asked.
"Don't go there," Rodrick said marking off the boxes on his checklist.
"C'mon Rod, I saw the newspaper pictures. Those were bridal gowns she was wearing and definitely roses you gave her. Don't blame you, saw the one of the kiss...that dress was class A superstar and I've seen movies and kissing pictures. Nothing fake about that one," Pete said.
"Don't you have shit to do so we can get in the air," Rodrick asked with a sideglance.
"Nope. Been waiting on you, slacker. Now about that kiss. Hey my parents married at 18, still hold hands and shit. I know when I see it man and you two have it for each other," Pete commented.
"Pete go pre-start or I'll call your girlfriend and tell her you went to Crazyhorse," Rodrick growled.
"Oh you're cruel boss.....really fuckin' cruel," Pete grumbled walking up the ramp.
"Wash the windshield and check the oil while you're at it,"Rodrick jokingly yelled back.
Pete was a former Marine therefore they had to antagonize each other. They both knew where the lines were and wouldn't cross them. Rodrick smiled to himself, he'd seen the tabloid photos himself and was rather taken aback by what he saw. He'd never seen the expression he had before. He remembered the thought in his mind clear enough; that he'd remember that moment forever. Rodrick almost dropped the clipboard then, he'd never used that word in such context before. Forever. He'd never had thoughts like that before.
Pete's yell brought him out of the space odysses.
Rodrick finished his pre-flight and walked up the ramp. Lyssa looked up from the tabloid and smiled. He winked and climbed up to the cockpit.
"Can we go now," Pete asked sacastically.
"Spin on number one,"Rodrick said putting on his headset.
"Spinning on one," Pete confirmed starting the engine.
They were all business now. The second engine was started and brought up to speed followed by the third and fourth. Carl, the crew chief called over his headset that they were buttoned up and ready to pressurize. Rodrick called the tower and was told to taxi out. Three minutes later take off was granted. The C-130 climbed fast and pulled hard to take the outbound heading. A mid-air refuel would meet them over Iraq but they'd land in India to refuel.
As they flew over the Mediterranean Rodrick came back and started to sort gear with Lyssa as she had already started loading magazines. They'd both be leading with CAR-15 assault rifles but for sidearms they differed. Lyssa carried her twin Jericho .40 cal automags and Rodrick carried two Colt Deltas, 10mm automatics. Both added the party favors; four frag grenades, one concussion, two smokers and one incendiary.
Lyssa slid the Marauder knife into the sheath down the back of her right thigh and the Fairbarn-Sikes knife into the right strap of her combat harness.
"Lyss...what's the story on that knife? I never seen one like it," Rodrick stated.
Lyssa pulled the Marauder and handed it to him,"its called a Marauder. Had some popularity back in the 80's. I saw it a gun and knife show once. The advert said it was 'The ultimate combat/throwing knife'. I don't know about that, but I do know its always lodged whenever I did throw it."
Rodrick had noted before how the hand guard consisted of opposing spikes and the pommel had the same opposing spikes with another directly opposing the blade. He now felt the balance of it and understood. Double bladed, double-edged; a single flat piece of steel jet black and razor sharp. A knife of only one purpose; killing.
"Not even gonna ask why you choose to carry it," Rodrick mumbled to himself," we're gonna need to talk sometime."
Two microsyrettes went into her boots. Rodrick checked his blow-out kit, a small first aid kit used by SEALs, then put it into his thigh pocket. She handed him two of the micro-syrettes.
"Here and be careful with these, they're poison. Fifteen second effect,"Lyssa cautioned him.
"Right. Sentry removal," Rodrick nodded.
He looked up when Lyssa said softly,"no. they're for us. One for you; one for me. Inside is a special lining, once its been used and air gets inside it'll burn itself up."
He stopped and looked at her and saw a sadness in her eyes. Rodrick decided he would ask about that when the mission was done and tucked the syrettes into his boots. They completed with survival gear and then filled their packs with rations and ordinance then filled their water pouches. Lyssa changed into that familiar form fitted black suit then pulled on her boots. The refuel over Iraq went without a hitch as did the one over Dhubai then an hour long stop in India.
Matt couldn't believe it. Leader of the joint task force and he'd dropped the ball. Second night in, some bunch slipped into their camp and had them all at rifle point. He spoke Thai, Burmese, Laotion, Cambodian and Vietnamese plus French just in case. He knew that this bunch was made up of both Thai and Burmese. Either bandits or opium traders. Once they talked enough he'd know what they were and then how to bargain with them. For now it was simple; keep quiet and do as they say without causing problems.
A glance at his watch told him they were thirty hours in since check in time. twenty-six hours since action had been initiated. Rescue if possible, recover if needed; liquidate if necessary. Army Special Forces would be sent after them. because they weren't expected to be close enough to the river for SEALs to be sent in, the Green Berets were the best option.
The guy in charge was Mao. Or at least the guy giving the orders for now was Mao, a Burmese. If he was the top of the ladder then things would be simpler. One thing for sure, everybody better jump on his bandwagon fast or it could cost them all their lives. Also, they needed to make sure the trail they left was obvious enough without tipping off the locals. Subtle signs that wouldn't be erased by countermeasures. At least the food and water had been brought along. Matt and company stopped when Mao called a break. He demanded to be shown how to prepare the MRE's. Matt very slickly had the team show how to prepare them that way they'd be able to eat as well. The ploy worked, everybody ate. Mao decided to camp there. Perfect. the longer they stayed still the better.
"We're past time," Matt whispered, "help is on the way."
Billy, the Australian, muttered, "all we have to do is stay alive long enough to pulled out."
Vincent, the Interpol agent nodded," we are alive now. That means hope for us."
The team settled down as best they could, watching the bandits in case they got a chance to turn on them.
CHAPTER 2
Rodrick walked off the ramp to join Lyssa, "All set. They're gonna fly down to Phuket to refuel then go hang out in India until they hear from us or Paul."
"Ok. Go ahead and send 'em out. Been here too long," Lyssa replied.
He knew Lyssa would have preferred to jump in than land the plane but Dannigan wanted a check in before the plane left. Rodrick put the sat-phone away then shrugged into the straps of his pack as did Lyssa then picked up their rifles and walked into the jungle. They walked the trail for a few minutes then Lyssa took point she led off the trail for fifty meters and followed it parallel. Rodrick noticed she had taken a drink of water as they entered the dense foliage but not since. It didn't take long to realize why. She would hold that water in her mouth for three hours before swallowing it.
The evening came and night fell but Lyssa stayed on point leading the way moving for four hours then resting for fifteen minutes. Rodrick knew it was a LRRP march, Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol, but he'd never used it. SEALs didn't move over land like that. Special Forces and Delta did. That and the fact that she wasn't hacking through the underbrush. It was like she knew exactly how to move through it like a snake.
Dawn came; Lyssa finally stopped and whispered," we'll eat here and break for an hour then you can take the point for a while."
Rodrick all but collapsed, "now I see why you do triathlons everyday."
"That's different baby," Lyssa spoke in a hushed tone.
She stood up and walked over to him and kissed his lips lightly," we have to push hard, alot of ground to cover and we have no time to waste."
"I'm out of shape," he chuckled.
"You don't do this anymore," Lyssa remarked.
"yeah," he admitted," when we get back let's take some time off."
"Ok," she smiled," get some sleep."
Rodrick nodded then leaned back against a tree and fell asleep.
All too soon Lyssa awoke him," Time to go."
They both stood up and stretched for a minute or two then he struck out taking point until noon then she took the point again. By evening they found the first campsite. Rodrick checked in with Dannigan via the satellite phone then headed out after eating, with Lyssa again on point. They moved through the night until dawn then stopped again to eat and sleep for an hour. Rodrick had noticed her mood change, she was becoming much more intense. Talking less and less, he was seeing the Operator now. A hunter of men.
Late in the afternoon they found the second campsite. Her movements reminded him of a predatory creature. Steady, careful, with absolute purpose and deadly silent. It took only minutes for her to pick up the outbound trail. She led off paralleling the trail at 30 meters, criss-crossing back and forth every so often, keeping them on track. Not too hard, somebody was blazing for them and being sneaky about it.
Rodrick had counted out eight separate tracks, Lyssa counted twelve plus the task force. Lyssa led on through the night again and they took a break at dawn. She gave Rodrick two hours, the strain was really showing now. When she awoke she froze. An Asiatic cobra had taken place between them.
Lyssa called softly,"Rod....Rod! freeze!"
He opened his eyes and saw what she meant. The former SEAL moved slowly, drawing the swaying snake's attention, reaching for his dive knife. Lyssa moved as well, refocusing its attention on her. With reflexes like lightning he swept his knife, severing the cobra's head. They both sighed with relief. After stretching again they moved out, with Rodrick on point until the afternoon. That evening she determined they were fourteen hours behind them.
Lyssa took them through the night and by morning they were only three hours behind but it would be five hours after a break. Rodrick slept fast and hard,but awoke at her whisper. They had the day to narrow the gap even closer. He led the way out slowly and carefully. Before sunset they had gotten close enough twice to hear voices. The group were making camp, this was good for Lyssa and Rodrick. They moved a mile ahead to make camp themselves and slept for four hours before checking in with Dannigan.
Matt felt uneasy. The jungle felt different now. Like a dangerous animal was close by. He whispered to the others to be on guard. They all nodded agreement. He'd already discovered that Mao was a bandit that crossed back and forth over the border. He preyed on anybody that couldn't fight back. The Burmese knew that at least one of the task-force was American and was hoping to ransom them back. The problem was he needed to get to a safe village with communication. They had all eaten again then pretended to get comfortable, as if settling in for the night. Mao as usual had four guards.
It was around two in the morning when Matt was awoken by Billy, the Australian. He whispered to Matt, "wakey wakey mate. Something is up, it don't feel right."
The guards were getting tired. Matt noticed it too but froze. Slowly a black form materialized behind one and he immediately dropped. A coughing sound was heard and another fell. They heard another coughing sound and guard number three also fell over.
Number four was already downed as well. It then seemed like large creatures were moving around.
One of the two shadows slithered in close and whispered,"follow me silently."
The others were already awake nodding quietly. They crept out after the larger of the two shadows for almost one hundred meters then the shadow stopped and counted them.
"Good, everybody's here," Rodrick said.
"Are we glad to see you Yanks," Billy said.
"Everybody good to travel right? nobody hurt,"Rodrick asked.
"Yeah, we're good to go. Hey aren't you the pilot," Matt asked.
"Yep. I'm here to get you boys back home,"Rodrick smiled in the darkness," we just need to wait a little while longer then we'll move out."
They all murmured their assent and waited silently.
Lyssa had moved slowly from one man to the next, the Marauder filled her hand. Silently she thrust the blade between each man's jaw and base of his skull into the brain; a slight twitch was their only reactions. One to the right stirred and started to sit up. Lyssa rolled over then slammed the edge of her hand to his throat and he fell back. Like a sledgehammer she thrust her blade down into his eye. One lay sleeping on his stomach with his arm under his head; a quick double twist making the bones of his neck crackle and he stopped breathing.
Finally there was only one left. The one that had seemed to be the leader from his position in the camp. Lyssa gingerly lifted away his rifle, pistol and machete then nudged his head lightly with the muzzle of the suppressed pistol. His eyes snapped open and saw a shadow crouched in front of him.
"Who are you," Mao asked in Burmese then French.
He heard the ominous click of the hammer being locked back. Lyssa took a cord and moved slowly behind him, tying his wrists behind the tree then stepped back in front of him. The bandit watched as she pressed a sticky grey block just above his groin and pressed a button. Red numbers started flashing.
"Who are you,"Mao demanded in Thai this time.
Lyssa stood up and and replied in Thai, looking down at him, "Past the gates and before the throne; I've been to hell. Where I'm sending you......is much worse."
she faded back into the jungle and disappeared. Three minutes later the charge went off pop blowing his pelvis open. Pain was instant. Mao looked down then screamed long and loud as his blood flowed out soaking the jungle floor. None of his men moved. The Burmese realized he was alone and dying slowly.
CHAPTER 3
Dannigan pounced on the ringing phone startling Madison,"Yeah?"
"Paul? that you,"Rodrick asked.
"Yeah Rod its me. what've you got," Dannigan answered.
"We have the package," he answered,"Good for extraction in 3 days. I think 3 days."
Dannigan sighed in relief, "What's the Butterfly say?"
"Hanging back. cleaning up the mess," Rodrick replied.
Dannigan was silent for a moment, "Keep our Butterfly hidden Rod. Nobody sees, got it?"
"I hear you, Paul. Do my best," Rodrick signed off and disconnected.
Dannigan turned to go back into his office, "Madison alert Mason's flight crew. Let 'em know their starting back now."
"That's great,"Madison exclaimed and then started dialing.
Pete answered on the fourth ring,"Hello?"
"This is Control. Ramrod is returning now. You have a three day ETA," Madison said.
"HOT DAMN! Acknowledged Control; three days inbound," he confirmed.
Madison disconnected with a smile. A quick glance at Dannigan's door then she pulled up the European tabloid website again and scrolled through the pictures to get to the Dior bridal show. Lyssa looked so gorgeous in the gowns. Rodrick reminded her of James Bond in his suit giving her the enormous bouquet of roses she thought smiling.
Madison wondered aloud," is this a prelude to something? Lyssa never walked a bridal show before. She's always avoided those like the plague."
Rodrick heard a distant popping sound then saw the shadow of Lyssa at the edge of the clearing and crept over to meet her.
"Reported in. They know we have them and expect to be back to the LZ in three days. Paul wants you out of sight as much as possible," he said in a whisper.
"Ok. I'll take point from now on. Once we get back to the jeeps I'm going to have a problem staying out of sight so make them go really slow," she told him.
Rodrick nodded then on impulse hugged her tightly to him.
"I'm ok," she whispered,"we're all ok but we have to move baby."
Rodrick nodded and slowly let her go and watched her melt into the shadows.
"Psssssst...hey let's go guys. We got business," Rodrick spoke softly.
The group nodded quietly and followed him down the trail.
They moved steadily until dawn when they got to a small clearing and found four MRE's unopened on the ground stacked neatly. Rodrick looked in his pack and silently cursed himself, he had four MRE's left. The men dug into the pouches without reservation in quiet celebration. Lyssa had given all the food she had left to feed them then moved further out from the camp.
"Hey. Don't leave the area. I'm going to look around," Rodrick ordered quietly.
He followed the trail ahead for ten minutes and found Lyssa digging at the base of a bush.
A minute later she yanked, pulling up a root of some kind that she then peeled and sliced pieces off to eat. Rodrick walked up closer and passed her one of the MRE's from his pack. She shook her head but he gave it to her anyway.
"Eat damn it. You burn calories too and you're pushing harder than anybody else," Rodrick swore.
Lyssa gave him a nasty glance then took it. She opened it, took out the crackers and peanut butter packs then handed it back to him.
"More," he said angrily.
"Later. When I need it," she replied.
He took out the dehydrated fruit mix and the oatmeal bar and gave them to her,"We'll share then."
He leaned over and kissed her then went back to the group as they talked and joked about the close call they'd all had.
"Get some rest guys, we move in an hour," Rodrick told them.
"An hour? That's insane, we've been going all night," Vincent the Interpol agent protested.
"He's serious Vin, rest up now,"Matt advised.
Billy piped up,"You Yanks don't play around, do ya?"
Matt nodded," if I haven't missed my guess Rod's former Spec Ops."
"Ex-SEAL. And no....I don't play around," Rodrick answered then leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes.
They all followed suit and felt like their eyes had just closed when he awoke them again.
Rodrick nudged their feet, "Let's go...up and at 'em. We got business."
They'd been moving all day but the DEA agent had his mind on other things. Other thing actually. Matt could have sworn he saw something dark in the distance move, like a person, but when he blinked it or they were gone. Rodrick had to have at least a partner. He'd seen a second person back at the Burmese camp moving around. There was the stack of MRE's waiting on them as well. A partner that seemed to prefer being unseen. Everyone on the task force had high clearances and had worked undercover for at least ten years. It wasn't like they couldn't keep a secret so why the hush-hush routine. He personally had worked with Rangers and Special Forces before in South America.
Matt thought to himself, 'who was the big secret out front? Why did Rod look so angry as they ate the MRE's and guilty as he ate his own?'
Then it hit him; unless they had no more for the other teammate. The DEA agent wanted to slap himself as the pieces clicked into place like a thunderclap. The teammate had given up ALL their MRE's to feed them!
He signaled the rest of the group forward to him,"hey guys. We got a problem. Whoever is on point; Rod's teammate, gave up all their food to feed us."
"We have supplies left in the jeeps. Unless somebody else raided them," Vincent said.
"That's the thing. They may not take us back to the jeeps, might just bee-line it to the airfield," Matt amended,"That's provided Rod and his partner didn't destroy the jeeps and all the equipment on their way in to conceal our op."
Expressions hardened then, they hadn't thought about that.
"No more eating or snacking until we get where we're going. Rod and his partner pushed long and hard to get us. They're still running hard to get us out. So no bitching or whining. we move like they do," Matt ordered.
Nobody said anything in protest, just nodded their understanding and kept moving.
Lyssa moved steadily ignoring the slight pain in her legs, scanning the ground ahead for anything out of the ordinary back the way they came criss-crossing the main trail to keep them on track. She had no more supplies except water and the filter pump to refill her camel-back. It was tempting to just stay on the main trail and run. The problem was that it was too well traveled for concealment and they had a long way to go.
One of the guys may have seen her in the distance after she had sneaked in close to put the fruit packet and oatmeal bar back in Rodrick's pack. He didn't do this anymore and needed more intake than she did. One thing for sure; as soon as they got back to Cayman she was cleaning up and going straight to her restaurant, provided she didn't order to go from the airport and pick it up on the way home. that really sounded good. First things first, get everybody back to the plane and on their way home.
Lyssa moved at a steady pace until dusk then stopped for a few minutes.
Rodrick came up and said softly," the guys want to continue on through the night but did ask about picking up the jeeps."
"You tell them yes," she asked.
"Yeah but they are refusing to take any MRE's from me," he said and added at her confused look," Matt the DEA guy figured out you gave up all your supplies."
Lyssa muttered under her breath making him chuckle.
"They will be ready in ten minutes," he added.
"Ok, to the jeeps and then stay on the trail," she said standing up.
"When we get home....." he started but was cut off.
"When we get home I'm going to eat then take an hour long bath and go to sleep for two days," Lyssa said," then we'll talk or whatever you wanna do."
She moved onward melting into the foliage.
"Yeah.....when we get home a long talk," he mumbled to himself then turned back to get the group moving again.
At dawn Lyssa stopped again and marked subtly that she wanted them to stop there then moved on for another ten minutes. She was able to see through her spotting scope they had stopped. She slept for half an hour then drank as much water as she could then stretched out.
She eased back and woke Rodrick up then moved off again after telling him they would reach the jeeps in an hour, after that not see her until the airfield unless there was a problem.
"Don't run yourself to the ground. We have plenty of time but make damn sure you grab something to eat from the jeeps. Eat something. We'll go slow so you have the time to," he said.
Lyssa nodded, it'd do no good to argue with him. Almost an hour later she got to the jeeps and checked them. All was good. Lyssa took one MRE and refilled her camel-back from the jugs of water. She ate some of it walking down the trail. Maybe a fifteen minute lead was all she had left now and needed to gain more. Lyssa started jogging down the trail. When her muscles warmed up more she lengthened her stride, running. Hopefully Rodrick could keep them from barreling down the trail after her. Finally at sunset she slowed down, walking until night fell and the headlights of the jeeps stopped moving. She stretched again then ate more of the MRE. She slept for four hours then stretched and started moving down the trail more.
CHAPTER 4
The former Marine, Pete, feathered the throttles back as he brought the aircraft in on final and saw the green smoke. They were there waiting for them.
"Hot damn! A clear LZ. Carl hold on we're going in," he called over his headset.
"Set us down good Piper. I'm ready to drop the ramp on solid touchdown," the Californian load-master called back.
He came in low and set it down. The C-130 ran the length of the field as the ramp dropped then turned around.
"Lyssa's on board," Carl called out.
When she came into the cockpit Pete asked,"where's the boss, gorgeous?"
"Bringing up the rear with the tourists Pete. I heard the engines before I popped smoke," she said out of breath.
"Jeeps inbound Pete! Get ready to haul ass," Carl called out.
A minute later the plane shook as the vehicles drove inside and parked. Rodrick climbed into the cockpit and saw her.
"Be ready in just a minute then hit it," Rodrick said looking back.
The vehicles were secured fast as the ramp closed.
Rodrick all but jumped into his seat,"LET'S GO PETE!"
"Blasting off boss," Pete said ramming the throttles forward.
The plane lurched then roared down the runway. After the plane soared upward then leveled off the Burmese border was crossed in no time.
"Rod I know you're tired but let me get a quick nap of say two hours and I'll fly us all the way to Iraq. There's mid-air refuels gonna meet us over India, Iraq and Italy. We don't land until we get to Rammstein Air Force base, Germany. We drop off the tourists to get on a C-5 to go back to the states and we go home," Pete said.
"Ok,I'll take a couple of hours. Carl are you up," Rodrick asked.
"Right here boss," the load-master answered.
"Tell those guys to stay out of the cockpit. When I go to sleep the door will be locked to keep them out. Do NOT, repeat, DO NOT tell them anything about Lyssa. That's an order," he said.
"You got it boss," Carl answered.
Rodrick looked over and saw Lyssa slumped in the navigator seat looking very much already asleep. Three hours later he shook Pete awake. After he took the controls, Rodrick went over to the navigator's seat, gently wiped her face clean and sat down leaning up against the bulkhead to fall asleep. Pete was as good as his word and flew all the way to Iraq. Over Italy they switched again until Rammstein Air Force base but woke him up half an hour out from it.
Rodrick called tower services requesting ten gallons of water, two towels and four large pizzas with sodas. On the tarmac the task force unloaded as the plane was refueled. Rodrick paid for the items that were brought out. The task-force called out their good-byes and thanks as they rolled down to the other end. they had time to get cleaned up as their equipment was loaded into the C-5 Galaxy headed back to the states.
Rodrick wanted to get back into the air before Lyssa woke up for real. Take off was text book as Pete and Carl ate their pizzas and rested until they reached Heathrow in London.
Pete took over and Carl climbed into the pilot seat as Lyssa and Rodrick went to the cargo bay after closing the cockpit door. They used the jugs of water to clean up then sat down and shared one of the pizza's. Rodrick got Lyssa dressed in her jeans and t-shirt then laid down with her on the seats.
After they crossed the Atlantic Rodrick went back to the cockpit. He let Pete and Carl sleep and flew them down the coast. They refueled twice and everybody was awake coming in on his private airfield in the Bahamas. He and Lyssa transferred from the C-130 to his Gulfstream and flew down to Grand Cayman. The plane hadn't even parked when Lyssa called her restaurant and placed an order making him laugh. The detour to the restaurant took only moments and they continued on to her beach house. They carried the food in and sat down to eat. He went for a swim in the sea as Lyssa took a long bath then got into bed. Rodrick took a shower and shaved then turned both their phones off and settled in beside her.
Dannigan read the email. An eavesdropped report from the DEA component of the joint task force.
"it has been determined that the mission had not been compromised but had suffered random happenstance. Hot Extraction effected by private contractor that had also facilitated the team's insertion. Aforementioned contractor to be requested in the future if team re-deployment is authorized in three months. Private contractor: Rodrick "Ramrod" Mason of Ram-Air Charters. If team re-deployment authorized Mason to be offered twice initial fee for team insertion with bonus if team requires hot extraction again. end report."
That made Dannigan pleased with them both. There'd been no mention officially or unofficially of Lyssa; excellent. He dialed Rodrick's satellite phone and got a very nasty voice-mail greeting making him laugh. He dialed Lyssa's Caribean number next which went to voice-mail as well but with her usual greeting. He left a message for her to call, when up for more than an hour.
Lyssa woke up and went into the bathroom and stood under the shower to wake up, shampooed and conditioned her hair then ran the razor over her legs and bikini area and under arms. Finally she rinsed off thoroughly and stepped out, grabbing the fluffy towel to dry off with. After running a brush through her hair she wandered to the kitchen and brewed coffee. Shortly after pouring a cup Rodrick blundered into the room, shielding his eyes.
"Fuck its bright.....I feel like a vampire on a day pass," he groaned then poured himself a cup.
"Welcome to my world," Lyssa sighed and drank.
"No way in Hell could Paul be paying you enough to do that shit on a regular basis," Rodrick commented.
Lyssa didn't say anything to that as she poured herself more coffee.
"Baby, right now I kinda wish you had a housekeeper. I'm hungry and I know you are too but I don't feel like making breakfast," he said.
"I'll get somebody from the resturaunt to bring something," she replied.
A quick call and their breakfast would be delivered in half an hour. She'd checked her phone waiting for the coffee to brew but wasn't going to return Dannigan's call today. He didn't claim crisis so he could wait. The meal arrived and she tipped well for it. They ate then returned to bed and slept more.
The sun was low on the horizon when Rodrick rolled over and felt the bed empty again. He looked out the window and saw Lyssa on the deck looking out at the incoming waves.
Rodrick walked up behind and wrapped his arms around her. She made a purring sound when he pressed a kiss behind her ear then turned in his arms to face him.
"Now its our time, everything and everybody can wait til at least tomorrow," Lyssa said looking up into his eyes.
He picked her up and carried her over to the hammock and eased into it then set them into a gentle swinging.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking baby," he said softly.
"Anything in particular or you want me to guess all night," she asked.
"You....me.....us. The fashion show. The missions," he said.
"Yesterday, today and tomorrow," Lyssa remarked.
"Yeah, I mean. Well. Yeah," he vocally stumbled around.
Lyssa twisted around and looked at him now fully awake and alert.
"You've been thinking about our relationship," she said flatly.
"Yeah. A lot. Things have. You know; happened between us," he tried to continue, "We've done things. Together, we've done things."
Lyssa chuckled, "Yes. We've definitely done things Rod."
"Not just that Lyssa. I mean real things. Yeah we've had sex. Made love. But we've also fought together. Had good times, had bad times and we understand each other. You know where I'm coming from....I know where you're coming from. You know; THINGS," he still grasped for the right words.
Lyssa sat up and straddled him, "ok normally I'd tease you about the trouble your having but this is serious to you so its serious to me."
Rodrick closed his eyes for a minute then opened them again,"That's what I mean. We do the, you know...... communicating thing."
"Ok, you're really having a problem, just say it flat out Rod. Bluntly," Lyssa said.
"I've been thinking about," Rodrick paused in mid sentence, "love."
"Do you love me Rod," Lyssa asked.
He nodded slowly.
She leaned in close,"say the words. For you; for me. Say them Rodrick."
His mouth opened then closed then opened again.
Lyssa finally kissed him then looked intently, "you can say it Rod.....you need to say it as bad as I need to hear it."
Rodrick closed his eyes,took a breath and held it for a moment then opened them," I love you Lyssa Kordenay. I love you."
Lyssa looked at him for a moment," And I love you Rodrick Mason. With all my heart I love you."
Book 15 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
A forgotten squadron of jet fighters are being brought back online Lyssa and Rodrick will have to split up to solve the situation!. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
'This was it. All or nothing,' Adam thought as he loaded the last crate of components.
It had taken two painstaking years to assemble all of the parts needed. Fifty million Euros in gold waited for him. All he had to do was to get off the ground and across the border into Mexico. The rest would be easy. He checked the pallet-ed crates then climbed into the pilot seat and started the engines one by one then closed the ramp. His co-pilot already settled in and ready they throttled up and taxied out onto the runway.
a moment later permission was granted for take-off. Pavement of the runway rushed by as the cargo plane lifted off. he was tense as they flew south to the Mexican border. An hour later he breathed easy in Mexican airspace. They flew down to Guatemala then to Columbia and finally Brasil refueling at each place then across to Morocco, Egypt and finally Tehran, Iran.
Several trucks waited at the end of the runway along with a forklift. the Iranian colonel looked inside the first crate and nodded. The lead truck pulled forward and was unloaded. Adam smiled at the bricks of gold inside the metal boxes. Pallets were slid down to the forklift then loaded onto a waiting truck. Finally the boxes of gold were on-board and secured. Adam and his co-pilot shaking hands with the colonel.
"Ha! we're rich now," he exclaimed.
"Yeah. I am," Adam replied then shot him with the pistol he had pulled from behind his back.
The colonel chuckled,"What kind of service would you like for your friend?"
"The ditch at the end of the runway is fitting," Adam sneered as he walked up the ramp back into the plane then closed up and started the engines.
Minutes later he was flying north on his way to Zurich. Fifty million to make and smuggle the parts needed to get that old squadron back in the air and he didn't have to share with anybody now. Life was good now.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE THE PARTS NOW," Dannigan demanded over the phone.
"All we can think of was it was all pieced together individually to make all the components. This wasn't an overnight snatch 'n grab job Major Dannigan. It took time. At least a year according to Naval Intelligence," the other end answered.
"And just what exactly do you expect us to do about it Admiral," Dannigan asked.
"You have highly specialized resources Major. Resources I'll never know the full capabilities of. Assemble a team to either steal those aircraft or destroy them. A squadron of F-14A Tomcats in the hands of hostile Iranians absolutely can not be allowed," the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs answered then added," One other thing Major. The persons that enabled this. See to it they are also dealt with; permanently."
"You're all full of wonderful news," Dannigan commented.
"If I didn't know you personally I'd be begging anybody and everybody to deal with this and probably have an international incident. Help me Major, please," he asked Dannigan.
"I'll try Admiral. Send me what you have," Dannigan gave him an email address then hung up.
He leaned out the door,"Madison find Lyssa and Rodrick."
"This morning her Caribean number was active," Madison answered.
"Send her a message then,'both of you need to be available within twenty-four to seventy-two hours', and confirm that she got it," Dannigan ordered.
"Sending it now," she nodded as she typed.
Moments later a incoming message pinged, Lyssa had received the message and was standing by but Rodrick was on a VIP hop and would return in 10 hours. Madison winced hearing Danigan swearing at the information he was reading.
Lyssa bolted from the bed when the alarm clock went off and pulled on a one-piece swimsuit and socks then her shorts and running shoes. Rodrick slamming into swim trunks and socks and shoes behind her as she wrapped the band through her hair tearing for the door laughing.
Rodrick yelled,"catch up with that cute ass of yours on the road!"
She ran the bike down the driveway and jumped on coasting onto the road and pedaled fast as Rodrick followed seconds behind. Lyssa shifted gears gaining speed down the road with Rodrick hot on her tail and gaining fast. When they got back he was in the lead as he rode back up the driveway and around to the beach behind the house kicking off shoes and socks and sprinting down to the water's edge. If he could maintain the lead he would win and she would have to cook the breakfast of his choice while he showered.
At the twelve mile mark Lyssa was less than one hundred meters behind. Rodrick ran for the incoming surf and dove over a wave to start swimming for home. Within the hour she had caught up to him. Lyssa reached the beach first and ran for the deck with Rodrick once again hot on her tail but not close enough. Lyssa had won again for the sixth time in a row. They both stretched and walked to cool down without cramping up.
Lyssa pranced around Rodrick,"I want french toast, crispy bacon, sliced strawberries and scrambled eggs with mimosas."
She laughed walking to the bathroom. After 20 minutes walked back out as he set her plate on the table.
"mmmmm you're so sweet," she smiled impishly.
Rodrick caught her before she sat and yanked the towel off and popped her on the butt hard making Lyssa yelp then laugh.
"Tomorrow is gonna be a different story," he growled as she sat down.
Lyssa giggled as she toasted," To victory."
They both started eating.
"So what's the deal with Paul? He ever say what he wants us hanging around for," Rodrick asked between fork-fulls of french toast.
"Not yet but its has to be serious, he said both of us," she answered.
"I've got a hop to Atlanta this afternoon, think it'll matter," he swiped a piece of bacon from her plate.
"I doubt it, HEY!" she tried to grab it back.
Rodrick chuckled.
"Just don't play around up there," Lyssa munched on the remaining piece.
Rodrick shrugged," pick up in Atlanta to here and back. I should be back in time for dinner."
"I'd have Pete standing by just in case. Call me when you're on you way back, I'll try to have dinner ready," Lyssa smiled.
Rodrick's satellite phone rang and he answered it, "You're timing is perfect. Oh your ears must be burnin Paul."
He switched it to speakerphone.
"Rod where will you both be at 8pm tonight," Dannigan asked.
Lyssa answered quickly,"Hopefully dancing at the Lighthouse Inn."
"I've got an Atlanta hop today Paul so what's up," Rodrick asked.
"Cancel the dancing. I'll see you both tonight, Rod pick me up in Atlanta for your return trip," Dannigan said then disconnected.
"Wow, and there went all the fun for the day," Lyssa commented.
"Hey at least we know he's coming this time," He smirked making her laugh remembering him answering the door naked in Paris.
They finished eating and Lyssa cleaned up while Rodrick took a shower and shaved. She styled her hair and put on make-up then slipped into a blue dress and high heels while he got dressed himself. Rodrick drove her car while she found a radio station that would mildly irritate him. On the tarmac she walked over to the plane and gave him a kiss then walked back, a sudden gust of wind earned her a loud whistle to which she turned back and blew a kiss to Rodrick as the ground crew laughed. Within minutes she waved as he taxied out then took off heading north. She got back into her car and drove into town to shop.
CHAPTER 2
Adam finished signing the paperwork for the numbered account. He'd be able to access it using any name from anywhere in the world and in three days he'd have a dozen aliases to use as he went between non-extradition countries for the next six months. He'd already found a buyer for the cargo plane he used. By the end of the week he'd have a new Learjet and be on his way to Bali for a month. He'd covered his tracks well and with the death of his former partner there would be no way to track him and he didn't have to share that gold either. Soon he'd be untouchable. Just a few days in a five star hotel and then he'd be off to paradise.
Rodrick stepped down the stairway after Dannigan and spoke quickly with the ground crew as he signed the checklist for them. The crew chief handed him a set of keys and pointed to Lyssa's car beside the hangar. The drive to the beach house took no time at all. Walking in, the smell of dinner reminded them it had been a long day. Rodrick walked up behind her,wrapped his arms around and kissed her.
"Good flight," she asked.
"Long one. Damn that smells good," Rodrick smelled the steaks and lobster tails.
"Wash up. One of you set the table and one open the wine," Lyssa instructed.
They crowded each other at the sink trying to wash their hands and ended up elbowing each other then slinging water until Lyssa called them down before a mop was warranted. Since Rodrick knew where everything was he was chosen to set the table while Dannigan opened the wine and poured it into a decanter. Salads were first and then the steaks with lobster tails and steamed vegetables and finally a Bavarian black forest cake with a rich cream glaze and black cherry sauce.
"Jesus Rodrick. When the hell are you gonna marry her. She cooks better than the White House staff,"Dannigan said.
Rodrick choked on his wine and Lyssa dropped her fork. Both looked at each other then Dannigan with a look of panic.
Dannigan looked from one to the other," people in love do that;well most people. You two being Operators the concept may be a bit foreign to you. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."
Rodrick looked like a 5 year old caught raising his head out of the cookie jar with a mouth full of oreos.
Dannigan smiled to himself and thought, 'So Rodrick had been thinking about it.'
Lyssa's look of sheer terror was a different story though.
"I saw two mountain bikes set up for triathlons, he's driving your car and I bet if I look in the bedroom; his clothes are in the closet and not a suitcase. It doesn't take my twenty years of experience in intelligence to determine that you two are living together," Dannigan stated.
They both looked at each other as if this observation was news to them.
"Excuse me," Lyssa stood up and took her glass of wine with her out onto the deck.
She stood watching the waves come in.
"Give me a hand with this Paul," Rodrick got up and started clearing the table.
Dannigan helped him and afterward set up his laptop to the plasma tv, then walked out to the deck.
"What's the problem," he asked her.
"I'm not thinking about more than tomorrow, or I wasn't. Until now," she answered.
"Do you love him," Dannigan asked watching the waves with her.
"Yes," Lyssa said.
"You tell him so,"Dannigan continued.
"I did," Lyssa replied.
"I presume he said he does too," He asked staying on the topic.
"He said it first but had a hard time," Lyssa admitted.
Dannigan finally turned and looked at her.
"So you love him...he loves you...you both know it. So what's the problem? Just because you're both Operators doesn't mean you can't have lives with each other," Dannigan said pointedly.
Lyssa looked down at the sand silently.
"I was married once....didn't work out because she didn't understand," Dannigan said matter of factly," you don't have that problem; you understand him, he understands you. I think it'd work out."
"Not with my history," Lyssa murmured.
Dannigan looked at her again,"so he isn't your first boyfriend, you're not his first girlfriend but you're together now and enjoying it."
"Not what I meant," Lyssa said softly.
Dannigan looked puzzled for a moment which got him a very angry look from Lyssa.
"Remember before dumb-ass," she hissed.
"oh...OH! Sorry, I actually forget that Lyssa," he admitted," wasn't that kinda the goal?"
Lyssa said nothing.
"I don't think about that person anymore Lyssa. A plot in Arlington and memories are all that's left," he said softly.
"Facts are facts Major; I was not always as I am now and there are some things I just can't do," she whispered.
"Look I didn't come down here to tell you how to live, I was just making dinner conversation. I came down here because of a serious crisis," he said," but I will say this; you looked stunning in those bridal gowns and I'm not the only one to think so."
"Don't play Major, please don't play," Lyssa said.
"Hey. I saw Madison looking at the pictures of you and Rodrick with a wistful expression," Dannigan remarked then turned to walk inside.
"Have a seat Rod, we'll go over your part first," he said pulling up the file, "As you know The Shah of Iran was friendly to us and we allowed him to purchase a squadron of F-14A's a long time ago. Things started going south, along with his health, so when he fled the country, our technicians maintaining them did too."
Rodrick nodded as a series of diagrams of components went across the screen.
"They took with them some very key components, crippling the whole squadron. Since then those items under strict security to prevent that squadron from being restored to flight duty. This guy here found a way to rebuild those components and flew them to Iran. They paid him in gold. He killed his partner right on the tarmac there we've been told and bailed to Zurich," Dannigan explained.
Rodrick nodded, "Ok. so where do we come in at?"
Dannigan continued, "I'm sending Lyssa after him. You, I'm putting in charge of a team to go steal those Tomcats back. I have the team going to meet you at your airfield in the Bahamas at zero seven. Jump in and lead the team to steal those planes. You won't be able to land on carriers but a couple of tankers will be waiting to get you to Helicon Air Force Base Greece. From there all but one will return to the states."
Rodrick looked back at the big spook, "one?"
Dannigan nodded, "Yours will be listed as missing over the Med, fitted with external tanks and refueled. After you take off from Helicon you're on your own, but if you get that plane to Key West it'll be traded out for a G model."
"Damn! Are you serious? I can have an F-14 G," Rodrick asked.
Dannigan nodded.
"What's Lyssa gonna be doing," Rodrick asked.
Dannigan brought up the picture of the traitor again, "Tracked him to Zurich. There's a ballet running now. A Prima that trained with Lyssa is the principal dancer and owes her a favor. A big favor."
Rodrick looked at the picture of the dancer and remembered vaguely her picture and name; Katya Taliyenko. She was one of the top three in the world and very sought after. Rodrick wondered what the favor was. His puzzlement must have shown to Dannigan because he explained.
Dannigan said," During a production she and Lyssa were understudies to a Prima. That Prima was heavily negotiating the principal in another production but was running the tail end of a career."
"Define-heavily,"Rodrick said.
"She tried trading their rapes for the principal position. Almost worked but she didn't know Lyssa knew those things had a habit of happening and was ready for it. Because of that the Prima and the producer were ruined in the scandal. Katya and Lyssa became the darlings of Bolshoi. Lyssa prefers shadow more than spotlight so she keep putting Katya to the forefront when exposure was convenient and that's how Katya became a top Prima. She owes Lyssa big time,"Dannigan explained.
"Wow, that's really serious, but would she just drop out of a production just like that,"Rodrick asked.
Lyssa spoke from the doorway disconnecting from a call, "Katya will fake a sprained ankle in an hour and have a call made to me to fill in. I'll go pack."
She then went to the bedroom and packed her carry-on. Mostly dance clothes and toe-shoes along with a few other choice wardrobe pieces just in case she couldn't get to the Zurich house. Right on time her phone rang and knew she was on speaker. As it turned out she knew the Director and Producer. They were thrilled she could be on the next flight out.
Rodrick was puzzled that all she gave him was a hesitant peck on his lips for luck at the jetway then boarded the plane for Zurich.
CHAPTER 3
Pete picked up that Rodrick was in a strange mood. Something was on his mind and it had nothing to do with the bunch of pilots trying to sleep in web seats in the belly of the C-130 or the super-grade spook in the flight engineer seat behind them. He heard Rodrick come over the intercom.
Rodrick asked, "Paul. you awake?"
"Yeah, what's up Rod," he answered.
Pete saw Rodrick flip two switches then heard nothing else. Rodrick wanted privacy and isolated them both. not just from anybody else listening but from the data recorders too.
Rodrick turned in his seat and looked at Dannigan," I dunno what you two talked about on the deck but she's acting different now and I don't like it. When this is done I'm turning the phones off again. We're gonna talk and find out how you fucked up so I can take care of my girl!"
Dannigan sat for a moment then said, "Rodrick you hang onto that thought and do what you just said and you'll both be fine. Lyssa has issues; that's not news to you, but I have no doubt that you two can sort damn near anything out. She may work alone and do it well but she needs you Rod. More than you'll ever know and that scares the living hell out of her more than anything else. So think about it. Think hard man. You love her don't you?"
Rodrick answered," Hell yeah! How could you ask that?"
"Would anything ever change that," Dannigan asked.
Rodrick answered immediately," of course not."
Dannigan looked at him intently, "Checkpoint Zulu. The point of no return Mason; love her forever or cut her loose when this is done. Make up your mind because I'm the one that would insist on walking her down the aisle and I'll see to it there's a liquidation mandate on the one that breaks her heart. and carry it out myself."
Rodrick opened his mouth but Pete's slug to the shoulder definitely got his attention.
He flipped the switches,"WHAT?"
Several groans echoed back at the outburst.
"Iranian airspace boss. Whatever it is; wrap it up. Time to go to work,"Pete informed him with a look that said he needed to get his collective shit together.
Rodrick got out of his seat and headed back to the cargo bay to suit up. All the other pilots were double checking their equipment, night jumps were dangerous as they were but night jumping into Iran to land inside an air base was pushing it. The other pilots he vaguely knew by reputation. After dropping everybody out Pete would continue on to Turkey to refuel and then head for Greece and drop Dannigan off. He'd meet up with the pilots to debrief and Pete was free to return home.
Carl gave him a thumbs up on his equipment then held up five fingers. When he held up three fingers they attached their breathing masks and gave him a thumbs up. The cargo bay de-pressurized and he held up two fingers then pointed to the ramp. The lights inside turned red and the ramp began to lower. At one minute he pointed to the jump light and held up his fist. When the light switched to green and he saluted then waved them to go.
Rodrick led them out into the black sky. Immediately after exit they pulled their chutes. They were HAHO; High Altitude High Opening, jumping. They would jump high then glide the parachutes in using GPS. It was the only sure way at night landing in hostile
territory. Minutes later they landed inside the enclosure housing the squadron.
One by one the team silently removed the sentries. Rodrick gave a signal and they ran for the planes and overrode all fail-safeties to get them started. the Iranians had made the mistake of fully fueling the aircraft, also an even bigger mistake of having them armed. Rodrick led them out of the pen and headed for the runway. He'd be the last to take off as they did so in pairs.
Alarms and sirens blared, lights flashed and men ran everywhere but the fighters were taking off too fast for anyone to do anything to stop them as Rodrick and his wingman lifted from the runway. When the wheels cleared they swept the wings back and rammed
the throttle forward making the jets scream climbing into the sky. Afterburners lit as the squadron pushed past sonic speeds to get away.
Within minutes they flew past the shoreline and slowed down over the Mediterranean to meet the refueling tankers then flying on to Greece. At Helicon they fitted his plane with external tanks then fully fueled him and gave priority clearance to take off. Rodrick roared off into the pre-dawn sky. He would refuel in France, Ireland, Iceland, Greenland and Nova Scotia to Maine then fly down the coast to Key West to trade the A-model for a G-model with no numbers or other distinctive markings. Rodrick would then fly down to his own airfield to keep it. From there he'd return to Cayman and wait for Lyssa.
Adam verified the amount deposited and its nature then signed the final form. He had chosen the alpha-numeric account number as well as its corresponding passcode. He left the bank and was driven back to the hotel. Adam had the concierge make dinner reservations for him as well as an appointment with a tailor. Standing in the Tailor shop he listened to the conversation; the prima ballerina in a production had fallen and sprained her ankle during a rehearsal and there was two more nights of showing. He'd get a prime seating ticket for tonight.
Lyssa stepped out onto the stage and held her ready position, took cue from the music and danced to the segment then held her closing position as the curtain fell. The stage hands moved like lightning as she ran to the side. A quick drink of water as the curtain raised and the other dancers trooped out, took their positions and started dancing. She rejoined for the remainder of the segment.
Two of the other dancers had tried to frighten her off. A pathetically old prank; claiming that her hair would not work for the production and the Director would insist her head be shaved to wear a wig. She gave the two French girls a very cold look then spoke to them in flawless Russian that though she had a wonderful sense of humor, such antics would not be acceptable by any Balanchine or Bolshoi Master or Mistress. Both girls almost fainted when the Director walked up and introduced her as a Bolshoi Prima. Lyssa showed neither mirth nor malevolence at their reaction. They stood agape as rehearsal went flawless.
By intermission Lyssa had spotted her target in a private box watching the performance. Most of the troupe were French but Lyssa spoke to the Director and Producer in Russian, the wardrobe and make-up artists in French and Swiss respectively. She recognized him again at the small reception for the high paying VIP guests after the performance and made herself very noticeable.
Adam heard her easy transitions from Russian, French and Swiss and had to investigate the gorgeous dancer. He stepped up and greeted her in French. He asked her where she was from.
Lyssa answered coyly in French, "I live where I can be most comfortable."
That explained it all to him; she was a mistress currently between keepers. Adam gave her the name of his hotel, suite number and suggested a night cap. Lyssa said she'd consider it but implied that she would visit. After changing from costume an awaiting limo took her back to her house on the city outskirts. Katya was standing in the kitchen when Lyssa walked in.
"How did it go my friend,"Katya asked in Russian accented English.
"you are to be proud Katya," Lyssa answered in Russian.
"I still don't understand why you wanted to dance for this one but any favor you ask is yours. You protected me back then and gave me honor you deserved more. Lyssa you are of many secrets. One day when neither of us can dance anymore, will you tell one or two," she asked.
"One day Katya, but for now have you done as I asked," Lyssa asked her.
"Yes I have booked a flight to Hawaii as you said. Prima Marissa will meet me at the airport and hide me for two weeks to recuperate," Katya answered.
"Good. I will take you to the airport now. Keep up the charade until you are safely hidden at her house,"Lyssa said.
CHAPTER 4
Adam looked in the mirror and was satisfied. He'd taken a shower and shaved waiting for the ballerina to show up and now stood wearing his suit pants and unbuttoned shirt. He'd enjoy this. a night in bed with such a woman would be fun. Women like this ballerina would say yes to anything as long as there no visible marks he thought gleefully. a slight tap caught his attention but he ignored it. The window wasn't properly latched and a breeze made it move most likely. that was his thought when he felt a sudden snap of pain at the base of his skull and blackness enveloped him.
Some time later he awoke and realized he was tied to a chair in a dimly lit room.
"Oh. you're awake now," a vaguely familiar feminine voice said close by.
Adam turned his head and saw her. The ballerina, and she spoke english like native born American.
"This isn't what I had in mind," He commented.
Adam then saw she wore neither a dress nor some provocative lingerie. Instead she wore a form-fitting black suit and boots with a weapons harness.
"You're an American agency. Aren't you," he sneered.
"Yes. I am," Lyssa finally turned revealing her face streaked with the black combat paint.
"CIA? NSA? DOD? DIA?" he asked.
"Doesn't matter. I don't ask anyway," she said unzipping a small black case to reveal a syringe with needle and a vial of clear liquid.
"Sodium Pentathol has no effect on me, honey," Adam chuckled as she filled the syringe and tapped out the bubbles.
Lyssa stepped closer,"not Sodium Pentathol. This is called Inanna. Its named for the Anti-muse. I've been to Hell Adam Blake."
She inserted the needle into his neck and pressed the plunger slowly,"where I'm sending you........much worse."
He laughed as she took the needle out but stopped after a minute. He suddenly felt warmthen hot. His neck felt on fire then his head snapped sideways from a punch. The beautiful dancer, now in menacing black blurred and faded. The figure became his friend but there was a hole in his forehead and blood poured from it as another punch connected, flinging his head back.
A girl he'd beaten and raped in the Philippines leaned over his shoulder and whispered into his ear,"this will go on forever and its only just started."
Children he had tormented in school filed past slamming their fists into various parts of his body, the pain was amplified as the heat left and he suddenly became cold. No part of him was left untouched as he saw his father striking out followed by his brother. a moment later the heat came back and he saw flames licking around a dark figure that came forward. He saw a mangled face that gave him a bleeding smile then lashed out a kick to his knee and slammed a fist deep into his gut.
Adam lost track of time as the pain intensified. More and more tormentors came in and out of focus. He couldn't understand why wasn't he being asked anything. a long wicked looking knife flashed in the firelight and slowly drew a red line down his arm. Heat and cold flashed back and forth through his arm as he saw muscle and other tissue slowly move to the side revealing the bones.
Lights exploded behind his eyes as something pressed on the bone then scraped down it. He thrashed and screamed as the same thing happened to his leg realizing it was the tip of the knife blade as it dug a furrow into the bone. He started screaming what he hoped they wanted to make the pain stop.
"I have gold! Millions in gold and you can have it! Just make it STOP! ALL THE GOLD IF YOU'LL JUST STOP," he screamed.
The demon reached out its claw and opened up his other leg then dug into his bone with a sickening scraping sound. He screamed the account number and pass-code then he screamed the name of the colonel in Iran that paid him. He even named his contact in the states that had relayed to the Iranians. The smuggler that bought his plane. The forger providing him with false identities. Time had no meaning anymore as he saw flames dance in the open wounds of his flesh until he passed out from all of it.
Dannigan read the message from Lyssa. Iranian operatives in the U.S. without diplomatic covers to protect them. They'd drop from sight in a few hours. She'd certainly wasted no time and asked for a disposal crew pick-up at a cross roads in four hours. The strange part was the statement she'd included. She would return to the states and asked the exact location of the plot in Arlington. Rodrick had already dropped off his new Tomcat in the Bahamas and flown back to Cayman to wait for Lyssa. Time had finally come to interfere with her life.
"Madison....get Rodrick Mason on the phone. Tell him to come up here," Dannigan called out.
"Yes sir,"Madison answered then dialed.
Lyssa stood still in front of him as his vision cleared and focused through haze left over from the drug and pain. Adam realized he was sitting on the ground leaning against a signpost.
"Welcome back," she said softly.
"Am I dead," he asked in a hoarse voice.
She leaned forward and drew the Marauder across his abdomen. His organs spilled out onto his lap. He looked down and then back up into her dove grey eyes unable to make a sound.
"Not yet Adam Blake, but you will be," she hissed softly into his ear then swiped the tip of the blade inside his cavity slicing his diaphragm.
He couldn't breath anymore. Light and darkness shimmered in his vision as he struggled to take a breath. Tears rolled down his face as she draped a black plastic sheet over him. This was what it was like to be in a body bag. He didn't know when his eyes closed, but he couldn't hear his heart beat anymore and then nothing.
Lyssa went back to the house and cleaned up the mess in the basement. Her hands shook as she took a long shower then went to sleep until the afternoon.The final performance went without problems.
The next day Lyssa stopped at the bank and spoke to the manager familiar with her and gave the account number from Adam Blake then the pass-code. The manager then informed her of the current balance and asked how she wished to proceed. Lyssa had the funds transferred to her Zurich and Grand Cayman accounts along with a wire transfer to her friend Katya.
Lyssa arrived at the VIP lounge of the airport with half an hour to spare after checking in. She flew first class to Heathrow and caught the connecting flight to the states. A taxi from the airport to the storage facility to pick up her car. The drive to her house on the beach took an hour. It was late morning so she showered, changed into a plain black dress and pumps after styling her hair and putting on make-up.
Her face showed no emotion as she drove through Washington to park along a narrow road in Arlington National Cemetery. Carefully she walked across the grass to keep the slender heels from sinking until she stood in front of the marker she had come to see. A special section not many knew about, very few people visited.
Alone, she knelt down and traced the name etched into the marble with her fingers. A name not spoken in over three years then read the epitaph below the rank, name and dates of birth and death; A soldier can give no more than all of themselves to serve that which they believe in most. Below that; the insignia of Special Forces and Special Operational Detachment-Delta. At the bottom was a very small hooded and cloaked figure.
Lyssa didn't try to hold back the tears that formed and slowly rolled down to fall into the green grass for several minutes. She didn't look up to the voice beside her.
"I hope he liked the epitaph, it seemed to sum up his character,"Dannigan said then crouched down and pulled a weed or two.
"Its empty. Isn't it," She asked.
"Its not the only one like that here,"he answered.
"When I finally die will I be put in it," she asked looking at the grass as she stood up.
"I thought Lyssa Kordenay would prefer to be buried beside the man that loves her. Maybe even married her. But first she should come to terms with the fact that she can be loved and have a life within it,"Dannigan said.
"My history....."she began but was cut off.
"Its history and doesn't matter anymore," he continued," He does you know, love you. If you think it really makes a difference,tell him. If he walks then its him that's not worthy."
"Yeah....right..." Lyssa muttered.
"Hey! Of all the people I've ever known; nobody has earned the right to be loved unconditionally more than you,"Dannigan insisted," I wish we could declassify you. You truly do end all arguments about diversity in service both overt and covert so don't give me
that shit ever again. You made a believer out of me and I don't regret any of it. Closest I've ever had to a child of my own and damn proud of you too!"
Lyssa stood up and hugged him. Dannigan held her for a couple of minutes then eased her back and took out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes of the running mascara and eyeliner.
"He's at my office. Talk to him Lyssa. Take him home, go on vacation, whatever you want,"Dannigan told her as he walked her back to her car.
After Lyssa drove away he turned and looked down at another marker. The epitaph reading; The ultimate price of unshakable faith is; remembrance of courage. He turned to see a General walk up and saluted out of habit.
The General returned it then chuckled, "visiting your own grave again Major?"
"Somebody else's actually,General Singleton," Dannigan answered and noticed a procession approaching,"One of yours?"
"Yeah. Damn training accident. Just a kid at that. Take care Major Branton," the General said.
Dannigan sighed," damn shame Sir."
The General nodded then returned the offered salute and walked to join the funeral making its way to the reserved plot.
Dannigan got into his car and drove out, dialing his phone, "She's on her way Mason. All or nothing. Make it count."
Book 16 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
The confrontation has finally come; how will Rodrick react to Lyssa's past? Major Dannigan has a problem out of the past as well!. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Rodrick Mason sat in the chair after Dannigan's call. He knew Lyssa had a house an hour away from a search he did, but experience around her made him conclude it was more than likely booby-trapped. Unless she told him different he wouldn't assume that the passcode in Grand Cayman would work elsewhere.
He noticed the secretary, Madison kept looking at him with changing looks. One moment like she was fawning and the next like he was something strange she had never seen before. Normally that wouldn't bother him but he was distracted. Dannigan told him he knew where Lyssa was, but insisted that he be the one to go get her. Rodrick had a feeling that it had to do with Lyssa's past.
An Operator like Lyssa didn't torture themselves because it was a challenge and whatever they talked about had something to do with the relationship he and Lyssa had. She took missions that had a greater than ninety percent chance of death. She operated in plain sight like nobody else did. Rodrick knew that the price tag for having the new fighter jet would be using it on business. He didn't care. He took the mission because she did. No matter what she took the mission.
She was damaged somehow and it went deep. Very deep; the very core of her being. It was the foundation of who and what she was now. An equation he had never been factored in on. That was it; she never planned on having a relationship like they had now and it was evolving. That was the problem; she didn't know how to proceed. Well he knew how to proceed. and as soon as he got her in front of him he would.
Madison cleared her thought catching his attention,"Lieutenant Mason, Lyssa just pulled in. Would you like to meet her downstairs?"
"Is Paul with her," he asked.
She shook her head no. Moments later the elevator open and Lyssa stepped out.
"Hey Lyssa," Madison smiled.
"Hi Madi,"Lyssa gave her a slight smile then turned to Rodrick," Will you come with me please Rodrick?"
Rodrick nodded and followed her back to the elevator and rode down.
"You drive please,"She said walking out the door and pointed to his rental next to a dark grey Dodge Viper.
Rodrick opened the car door and held her hand as she sat inside then walked around and sat behind the wheel. The Viper wasn't there when he pulled in so it had to be hers. Not surprising but appreciated. Rodrick knew Lyssa loved her cars to move.
After an hour he parked in front of a house on the beach.
Lyssa handed him a slip of paper,"door and under the stairs."
Rodrick understood what both sets of numbers meant. He went in alone and entered the first set of numbers, walked under the stairs and entered the second set on the concealed keypad. She wanted him to see this place, but why?
Outside Lyssa sat in the passenger seat, staring ahead.
Softly she began singing in a whisper,"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Kory. Happy birthday to you."
Rodrick walked around the living room then the kitchen then the studio/gym. Pictures of her dancing and modeling were on the walls. In the small hallway he stopped and saw a picture of a soldier. Special Forces; Sergeant First Class. Underneath it was a display box of brass, the ribbons and other adornments for class-A uniform. After studying the photo and display he turned and walked up stairs.
Two bedrooms; one was obviously for guests, the other was her's. The closet was filled with her clothing and shoes as was the chest of drawers. In the jewelry box was the usual female sparkle. Except the bottom compartment; a men's high school ring, Special Forces crest ring and the award coins for Army achievements. Advanced infantry, jump school, air assault, rangers,Explosives and Ordinance Disposal, special forces, Afghanistan, Iraq, Delta force.
Serious , hardcore soldier. A lifer. Rodrick wondered was he her brother, her cousin, her lover? Was he her husband? The photo album on the shelf allowed no more answers, just the same questions. He flipped through it. The life of the soldier. Oddly he found no pictures of Lyssa in it. In fact there were no pictures of her at all. Again more questions than answers.
The only thing he could think of was Lyssa was connected somehow to the soldier and now he was no longer around. Perhaps that was it, she had been left alone. Rodrick put everything away and resecured the house and walked outside. Lyssa still sat in the car waiting.
Rodrick got in and Lyssa cut him him off before he could say anything.
"Drive to Arlington. one more thing to show you," Lyssa said in a heavy voice.
The car was parked along the narrow road among the graves. She got out and started walking carefully across the grass with Rodrick following beside her until she stopped in front of a marble stone. Rodrick crouched down and read the etched information. The same name from the coins and pictures.
"Sergeant First Class Kory Lyles. Special Forces, Delta. Oh hell. Today would have been his birthday. Lyssa I understand he was important to you and gone now. What I don't understand is who he was and why was he so important to you," he said.
"Rodrick the grave is empty," she answered.
"Lost on mission," he guessed, "Damn that's always so hard to deal with."
"No Rodrick. The grave is empty," Lyssa looked around then down and closed her eyes for a moment then locked her eyes to his and said, "The grave is empty because its mine."
Dannigan signalled the bartender for a refill. As the glass was set down on the napkin, a man sat on the stoll next to him.
"Long time. What brings you here Cantrell," he asked.
"Trouble Paul. The only reason to come see you," the man answered.
"I thought you were in the problem solving business Will," Dannigan chuckled.
"Not when the problem is one of my own, Paul," Will Cantrell said then ordered a drink from the bartender.
"How bad is it Will,"Dannigan asked.
"About as bad as it can get without being me. Its Trent,"Will admitted.
"Trent Sloan? He was with us back in the blood and mud days," Dannigan looked at him with disbelief.
"He went over to the North Koreans Paul. Its my fault. I left him out there too long," he said with regret.
"I'll look into it Will and if anything can be done. It will be," Dannigan said.
"Thanks Paul," Will stood and laid a couple of twenties on the bar and left.
The bartender commented,"Now that was interesting, never seen you drink with anybody before."
Dannigan looked over," Not to worry, it won't happen again."
The bartender looked puzzled for a moment then walked away to serve another patron. Dannigan had over twenty bars that he could frequent. This one would be taken off his list. All that was irrelevant though. His thoughts weren't on bars and old friends. His mind was on Lyssa and Rodrick.
No news since Lyssa met up with him at the office and they left together. He'd wait til tomorrow to call if neither of them called during the night. He found it hard to believe what Will said about Trent going over to the North Koreans. Not many knew that his grandfather had been captured by North Koreans during the war. Dannigan only knew because of a night of hard drinking. To say he had a hatred for North Koreans would be putting it mildly, but he had hidden it very well. So why would he jump in bed with them? Something was off, way off. First thing in the morning he start digging around in the dark places of Trent Sloan, see what skittered around to take cover.
Jung watched as the tall man walked into the office building. They knew he was an agent for the DIA but so far had no real evidence. He'd been living and working in Tokyo for seven years according to records. His business was basically a liason service for north american firms to asian firms. Japan, Okinawa,South Korea, Taiwan. Mostly domestic goods and sports merchandise.
He knew from the surveillance that the man spoke each language fluently as well as French. Some of the clients were French Canadian. Jung and his team had broke into the offices but found nothing remotely questionable. Taps on his home phone revealed nothing, They'd even monitored his internet activity and found nothing. Movie, television and music downloads. Monthly email to an ex-wife that harrased about alimony payments. Random chats from social sites and an online poker game once per week that he himself played in a few times and the routine golf games that were more business than actual sport.
Nothing stood out. Even his cellular traffic was consistent to a business man and no other cellular traffic came from his locations that were not accounted for. Erractic trips to strip bars and the occasional one-night stand when between girl-friends. He didn't even talk to, much less visit the American embassy. Either Trent Sloan was a true run-of-the-mill business man or the best spymaster Jung had ever encountered.
The only thing that did stand out was the man's obsession with a comedian that based his routine on having tools and modifying things to out-perform their original purpose to disasterous results and annoying his wife with it all. Jung did find it entertaining in the beginning but eventually became annoyed himself. Six months of surveillance had produced no confirmation of the information from the source in Washington.
Trent Sloan took note that his usual watcher was on his tail as he arrived at the office.Not a problem, he was stopping off at a resturaunt for dinner then heading home tonight. The North Koreans had been on him for at least five months. One thing for certain, they believed him to be a spy for some reason.
Normal procedure for them was that if nothing discovered within sixty days that identified him as an agent they moved on. His routine hadn't changed in four years so why did they still have him under a microscope. His line of communication hadn't been compromised.
Every three to six months he would be contacted via a female courier posing as a one night stand for intensive updating and debriefing. He had chosen them all. Enough women so the same one never showed up twice within three years. It had been working so far. One wasn't due for another two months though. He needed contact but couldn't initiate it. Maybe his online poker contact could get a message through to somebody that could help. Tomorrow night he would be playing. For now he'd play things cool and routine. Dinner and a beer at a popular hostess club then home.
Lyssa stood very still watching Rodrick as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. He had heard the words. He may have understood them yet fully registering to him seemed to be a problem. Rodrick just stared silently at the headstone. Carefully she stepped away and walked back out to the road then started walking to the entrance.
She had her purse with her anyway so she would go to the gate and call a taxi to take her back to her car at the office. The old stigma. A lot of people just couldn't wrap their mind around such a radical change. The sun was giving off its last light as she approached the gate, as she walked through it a car came to a stop behind her.
"Lyssa wait. I'm sorry, this is seriously confusing,"Rodrick said as he walked behind her.
She stopped and turned around, "I'm going home. I don't know what else to do."
Rodrick replied immediately," get in. I'll take you anywhere in the world if you'll talk to me so I can understand."
He walked around and opened the door for her and held her hand as she got in then got back behind the wheel and drove back to beach house. Lyssa deactivated the system after walking in and then turned on the lights. Rodrick sat on the couch and waited until she came back in carrying the photo album and sat beside him.
"Open it,"She said then continued," until the sun comes up you can ask me any question and I'll answer it after I tell you some things first. At dawn I stop and we never speak of it ever again."
Rodrick nodded and opened the book.
Lyssa began haltingly, "today a long time ago in a city you never heard of. Kory was born. There was the usual basics of school and activities both scholastic and family oriented yet always something that didn't quite click and feel right. Even after learning ten different martial arts Kory had secret longings and jealousy. He hid 'unacceptable' pursuits. After completion of schooling He enlisted to service. Progression of ranks was fast and acquired skills as fast as they could be taught. Yet always that secret side constantly being repressed."
"School after school. Kory sounded like a lifer. I know about that. I would have been. Until Kagan went batshit fucking crazy," Rodrick stated.
"Delta selection came. You were a SEAL so you know about how elite selections go. After some time in Delta Kory was invited to another selection. He was given two weeks leave to do it and a civilian plane ticket. I can't tell you where," Lyssa opening a bottle of water.
Rodrick looked up puzzled, "a selection they didn't want Delta to know? Company or Agency?"
Lyssa shook her head, "neither. Army. Kory went through a selection for another unit. You know there is a public face for Delta and then there's the real unit itself. That's what I knew too. There is another unit. Buried deep with Delta. DemonWraiths."
Rodrick sat up then. He had heard rumors of a unit so classified it was more along the lines of urban legend. An Army unit that operated outside Joint Special Operations Command. Complete and total black operations. All he ahd ever heard was the unit was the ultimate in warfare. Any environment, any weaponry, any tasking. Hostage rescue, assassination, insurgency, counter-insurgency. The unit was rumored to only be an A-team in size but so skilled and efficient to be able to overthrown a third world nation in a week.
Lyssa vaguely talked about missions and finally the one that went horribly wrong. Tears streamed down her face as she told of failure. Teammates killed. Two of which right before her eyes. And then she told of the days following filled with agony and the strong wish for death as she was tortured with fists, boots and electricity until finally rescued at the cost of three more lives lost.
Rodrick stared in horror at the previously hidden photos from a hospital. a young soldier beaten and burned then some of a rehabilitation that looked worse than the cause for its need. Finally Lyssa told him of being put aside, thought useless and late night visits by a stranger and a bargain. Complete change more radical than anything ever attempted before. treatments. therapy and retraining. Old habits substituted with new mannerisms. Old skills augmented with new and hidden talents discovered. the beginning of the life of Lyssa Kordenay, deception and lethality combined with beauty and grace.
"So since you already had the physical build it didn't take much to transform," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa shook her head, "I had to lose weight and redistribute the proper body fat I would accumulate. That took some time but I was learning ballet. I already knew ballroom dance. I spent eight hours a day learning ballet. She had memory problems. She could remember stuff thirty years ago with no problem. If you ask her when she last went to the bathroom she would run."
"What about facial surgery," Rodrick asked.
"Civilian doctor. He had no idea what I looked like before. Thanks to the beatings I took I was still healing and lookd horrid. Instructions were simple; make me beautiful. I am now," Lyssa explained.
Rodricks eyes dipped down. It wasn't unnoticed.
"A civilian team finished me. The surgeon was flown to a location and given totally random assistants. None of them saw each other or exchanged names. Nobody saw my face, not that it would help them. Still recovering from the surgery for that. An experimental procedure was done for me. I have the best 'lower end assembly' in the world. The only thing I can't do is have a baby," Lyssa said.
"I relearned to live, found myself as I should have always been, even found revenge and now been found by love. Love now in question," Lyssa walked to the french doors leading out to the deck.
"Revenge? HOLY SHIT! That congressman; Alkowitz. The one that blew ops for a druglord because his wife was an addict," Rodrick put it together,"THAT WAS YOU! Fuck me that job was right up your alley."
A slight pinkish gold glow had started in the distance where sky met sea.
Rodrick asked tentatively,"What does it mean that I fell in love with you."
Lyssa looked out to the horizon and said,"if you believe love to be something trivial, easily dismissed. Love is love Rodrick. You didn't know me before so it doesn't make a difference. The me you know now, the one that matters, is the one you love and loves you. Other than the fact I can't get pregnant and have children of my own, I'm no different than any other woman."
"Well now I say contrary to that. Lyssa you're an Operator and there are no other women like you. You put every man I ever met, including me, to shame with your operational accomplishments. Lyssa if I drive you back to your car will you wait here for me for fourty-eight hours. I have alot to understand fast," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa nodded then stepped back into her shoes and picked up her purse to follow him to the car.
Back at Dannigan's office she slid into the Viper but rolled down the window when he tapped on it.
Rodrick said firmly, "I'll never say anything to anybody about your past. If nothing else, you have my respect and that would be the very least I owe you. By the way, tell Sergeant Lyles happy birthday late for me if you see him."
Lyssa drove away, she didn't want Rodrick to see her cry over this. After all she had ever done, she felt justified in this one selfish pursuit. The song by Delerium came back to her memory. She found it on her MP3 player and pulled into a parking lot. With volume so loud and her windows closed nobody could hear her screams drowned out by the song.
"She knows the voices in her mind
They tell her to leave
She's tired smiling madly
Until silence becomes very silently
A noise in her mind
After all she has nothing inside
No good to give, no meaning to live
The mist engulfed tonight
Every single star
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
She knows the noises in her mind
Nothings left but screaming silence
After all she feels numbness inside
The feeling's gone she's upside down
The pictures behind her closed eyes
This time you went too far
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
After all she's got nothing inside
No good to give, no meaning to live
The mist engulfed tonight
Every single star
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie
After all they shared
Could he simply say no
After all they shared
He turned away from her to go
She said she wouldn't cry
That was really just a lie!"
Dannigan read the reports after decoding them. Sloan used an online poker game to make weekly reports. Not bad. pretty slick. even smarter was his annual updates/debriefings. Sixteen women had been selected from a DOD pool to make contact periodically posing as one night stands, he'd have to remember that one.
Dannigan set up an account on the site to be able to play later on.
Madison buzzed in,"Major......Rodrick and Lyssa just pulled in."
He answered back,"ok Madison thank you."
she replied back, "Sir Lyssa is leaving in her car and he's talking on the phone, walking in."
"Send him in as soon as he gets up here," Dannigan said.
Moments Later they heard Rodrick on his phone,"Look nothing's on the books so shut down for a week Pete. I'm stateside and a lot of shit going onso shut things down, lock up and take your girl to vegas or something. yeah everybody's on vacation. I'LL LET YOU KNOW! yeah later."
He disconnected the satellite phone and hooked it on his belt walking into Dannigan's office.
"Have a seat Rod," Dannigan said.
Rodrick looked around and finally dropped into the chair opposite the desk.
Dannigan stared at him for a moment then finally said,"This is the part where i ask ' what's on your mind' as if I don't know."
Rodrick stood up then closed the door, turned off the tv and leaned over the desk and switched off the computer monitor before sitting back down. Dannigan sighed then walked around the desk and sat in the chair beside Rodrick after turning it to face him.
"She told you everything. yes,"Dannigan asked.
"Paul how do I wrap my head around this," he answered.
"Oh that's easy. Do what I did. You make up your mind that the past is only applicable in certain aspects and then decide what's more important. That which you do know or some shit you don't that happened a long time ago and doesn't apply to you," Dannigan said.
"You say that like it's that simple," Rodrick commented.
"It is,"Dannigan replied and at Rodrick's glance he continued," Lyssa is a woman and like all women, like ALL people, she has baggage. You have baggage. I have baggage. Everybody does. You have to keep in perspective that most of it doesn't apply to you. I told her that if it were me I'd tell you. I give you credit for being a smart guy Mason, and having good taste in hooking up with her. She's special. Very special. If I could, I would jump at the chance to take your place but it doesn't work that way."
Rodrick's jaw dropped, "You would?"
Dannigan nodded, "Look Rod, I know everything and even I forget the past alot. I view that as a good thing. There trully is only one aspect that affects you. Lyssa can't have children of her own, that's it. Doesn't really matter, thousands of kids out there that need loving parents. Adoption's not off the table. Actually that might be a really good thing for you both. I can make arrangements with that you know."
"You think its really that cut 'n dry," Rodrick asked.
Dannigan looked him straight in the eye,"It is what you make it Rod. You want to complicate your life with bullshit and miss out on the best woman in the world that you could ever have? Or can you look beyond a minor issue and take up not a brass ring but one of solid gold? Strike that. Lyssa isn't solid gold. She's not even solid platinum. What she is has no equal in the universe. That's how special she is."
Rodrick looked hesitant so Dannigan added," this is it Lieutenent. This is the best that will EVER be. You won't find any better than her and I'd know. My advice; Marry her if that's where you were thinking of going. I'd be beyond happiness to walk her down the aisle if its you waiting for her."
"Just like that," Rodrick asked.
"Just like that,"Dannigan said flatly.
"Its alot to wrap my head around Paul," Rodrick said.
"Man you'll never, in a million years, find two people more suited to each other than you two. She understands you, you understand her. You fell in love. This new information really has no affect on you; or it shouldn't! You actually suprise me Rodrick to be having this kind of problem. I thought you'd be smarter," Dannigan leaned back in his chair.
"Wait, WHAT," Rodrick sat stunned.
The big spook nodded," Yeah, if I sit and think about it maybe you're not what I thought you were. Maybe you're not good enough for Lyssa. She's proven herself; time and again that she's the best. She should have the best and you might not be worthy of her. You have to seriously cowboy the fuck up to her challenge. Maybe you don't have what it takes. Yeah, that's what I'm thinking now."
Rodrick's jaw dropped as Dannigan stood up, walked over to the door and opened it.
"In fact you should just go back to the Bahamas. Like a chickenshit delivery boy hooking up with the occasional glorified hooker from time to time, bitching about it. You didn't have what it took back then. Lyssa had to clean up your mess for you. She's modeled million dollar designs. Danced for royalty alone. Wiped out entire narco-terrorist cartels untouchable by anybody else and even extracted the President's daughter from terrorists when nobody else could even find her. She did all that right in front of everybody's face and nobody knows she did it! What the fuck are you compared to her? Lyssa must have hit her head or something; taking interest in a washed up cry-baby don't wannabe a SEAL anymore because you can't clean up your own fuckin' mess!"
Rodrick spun and threw the punch but Dannigan moved subtly and he only connected with the door. Rodrick swore a blue streak grasping his hand making Madison arch an eyebrow.
Dannigan ignored him and said to Madison,"Get Lyssa on the phone. Tell her I have a trip to Japan for her. It'll take her mind off this LOSER tucking tail and running like a weasel. And when she gets back I'll arrange flight lessons so she won't have to slum around with him anymore."
"OH FUCK YOU," Rodrick bellowed and charged him.
Madison would have called for security had she not noticed Dannigan's wink before he said that. She sat quietly and watched them scuffle around and trade punches. They weren't using any of the nasty killing moves she knew they both had but preferred to go toe-to-toe and slug it out. Somewhere in the mix they both missed the chime of the elevator as Lyssa stepped out and stopped looking on in shock.
"C'mon Ramrod.....think you got what it takes to be her man? Chickenshit can't handle being a topdog anymore..."Dannigan goaded him between punches.
"So says the pussy behind the desk,"Rodrick challenged back slamming a jab to the gut then a quick uppercut.
"Pussy? At least I don't have to get my GIRLFRIEND to clean up my mess PLUS a pity-fuck afterward," Dannigan blocked another jab and popped him with a quick elbow.
"Piss on you! You send her into HELL. Over and over and over until she either snaps to go rogue or gets caught and worst nightmares come true. Don't give me that pity shit! I held her when she screamed all night long! Where the fuck were YOU? Back here trying to find some new way to push her over the edge!"
They traded a couple punches with Rodrick landing a good one close to Dannigan's nose.
"She's out there doing shit that makes Charles Manson look like Mary fuckin' Poppins, coming home to hide in the shower for three hours, puking her guts out from what she's done and do you care? Fuck no, you sadistic sonofabitch! Just send her on another mission. Abuse the hell out of her because that's all she thinks she's worth!"
Rodrick got in a lucky jab and blackened Dannigan's eye. Danigan faked a right and thrust his left fist into Rodrick's side.
Dannigan taunted, "what do you care? You're not gonna marry her or anything like that. You're gonna bail on her, you chickenshit knock-kneed no balls punk! Like you could even possess the love neccessary to keep her happy? Don't make me laugh that hard!"
"Oh yeah! If she were here right now; I'd take her to a jewelry store, get a ring and propose right there IN THE FUCKING STORE," Rodrick yelled.
Madison commented,"Well that's not how they do it in the romance books but I guess you kinda have to take what you can get sometimes Lyssa."
"This is about as romantic as these assholes get Madison," Lyssa said.
They both stopped and turned to look with stunned expressions. Lyssa wore the same black dress and looked tired. Her eye make-up was gone and her eyes were puffy. Rodrick knew she'd been crying and that was his fault, she deserved better. Rodrick snapped his fist back popping Dannigan's nose then walked over to stand in front of Lyssa.
"I got fucking stupid and I'm sorry. I won't do it again and I'll prove it if you ride with me," Rodrick said apologizing.
Madison looked at Lyssa,"This I gotta see."
Lyssa nodded to her then looked at Rodrick,"Ok Hotrod...let's see it."
Will Cantrell looked through the reports. nothing to reveal how contact would be made or when. How the hell Trent got through was unknown. the bi-annual update/debrief also unknown. Before he'd left to post in Japan he'd been very clear. Anybody showed up without his prior approval would be considered hostile and killed immediately for trying to compromise him and that had gone straight to the top and came back approved.
That's what really burned his ass. Sloan went over his head and got approval. North Koreans all over him for six months and nothing. His inbound/outbound traffic was airtight. He wasn't even leaving footprints in the sand. He had to crack this sometime soon or it was his ass on the line. Everybody except Sloan was impatient.
If Dannigan found out he was being used to ferret then it was definitely all over. Dannigan would do worse than make him disappear. Supergrades feared only one thing and Dannigan was one of the handful that could very well make it happen. There was a place where the embarrasments went. They went there and never came back, ever. If he was lucky that wouldn't happen to him, he'd be shot or stabbed and bleed to death slowly in a hospital parking lot.
Lyssa had to work very hard not to laugh as Rodrick and Dannigan both argued which jewelry store to go to. Madison finally chimed in with the local jewelers Chas Schwartz & Son and mentioned they were the oldest jewelers in the city so naturally had to be the best.
That settled the argument then started another, how big and what color of diamond for the ring. Madison cupped her hand over her mouth to hold back the laughter as Lyssa all but bit her own lip to hold it back. They arrived at the store and walked in with Lyssa and Madison leading the way inside.
The store manager gave a strange look at the two ragged looking men then asked how he could help them.
Rodrick answered, "I'm looking to buy my girlfriend an engagement ring diamond, of course in a platinum setting."
Dannigan interrupted, "It should be gold, eighteen karat."
"No way, she deserves the best and the best is platinum," Rodrick countered.
Sensing this could escalate the manager asked,"Which is the lady in question please?"
all three pointed at Lyssa.
"Miss Kordenay? An honor! Uh, apparently they both forget that it is you who is to be wearing the ring and should choose it. Perhaps if you select more than one they may be of help with the final decision," the mangaer suggested.
Rodrick and Dannigan looked at each other and stared intently then said in unison,"Show her the sets."
Madison couldn't hold back anymore and burst out laughing following Lyssa as the manager walked with her over to a long case. Both men trailed behind. Lyssa carefully examined the ring sets and taking note of Madison's reactions as well.
Finally she asked,"If I like the setting could the stone be changed to another cut?"
"Most certainly! And if you wanted, we could design something custom in house if you don't see anything you like here in the case. Though all of these here are one-of-a-kind designs," the manager said proudly.
Lyssa looked some more then pointed out three she liked. he set the displays on the top of the glass.
"I'd like a heart cut white diamond set in whichever can be decided on," She said then stepped aside.
Dannigan and Rodrick all but leapt to the case to look. In silence they stared at the three rings and finally pointed to the one in the middle and proclaimed,"That one!"
"Well chosen gentlemen. We can have it ready in a week,"the manager smiled.
Rodrick dug a credit card out of his wallet and snapped it on the counter,"Week my ass! We'll wait. And she needs earrings and a necklace to go with it. Right?"
The manger leaned in and said softly,"Sir you're looking at eleven thousand dollars for the set alone as it is, another six hundred for the stone she wants."
"I'll give you ten minutes or we can go to Harry Winston or Tiffany's in New York," Rodrick growled.
The man bolted to the back with the rings and returned to show Lyssa an earrings and necklace set that would compliment the rings.
Madison leaned in and whispered to Lyssa, "And I thought it was just going to be another day at the office."
Almost ten minutes later the designer herself came out and showed the rings to them already in a box. Rodrick took the box, looked at the rings then dropped to one knee in front of her and held it up to her. Everyone in the store quickly took notice and held their breath to hear.
Rodrick said firmly, "the SMARTEST thing I ever did was fall in love with you Lyssa. The dumbest thing was letting doubt come to that. Please take this ring, marry me and never let doubt show again. I love you and want the rest of our lives to be spent together."
Lyssa looked down at him as the whole store watched then finally said, "I'll let you be stupid just this once. Do it again and no matter how much I love you Rodrick Nathaniel Mason; I'll shoot you myself. YES!"
Lyssa held out her hand and he slid the ring onto her finger as the other customers applauded.
Rodrick looked at Dannigan,"Get a fucking tux asshole; because YOU'RE walking her down the aisle and I'LL be waiting at the end."
He turned, scooped Lyssa up, carried her out to the car and drove back to the beach house.
Madison giggled, "now that was cool. Major how are we getting back to the office?"
Trent Sloan had been playing poker for twenty minutes sending his messages via betting code and all was going well. There was new player; Paul91 he was pretty good, then he did something strange he blind bet 3 then opened at 91 then raised 101 and called at 311. Five minutes later he did it again.
Trent said in text, "serious hand you got?"
Paul91 answered, "gonna break out the MAJOR whup ass like you deserved it from a long time ago."
He laughed. Of ALL people; Paul Danigan had found him and made contact. He folded the hand.
Paul91 said,"next time you see me it'll be something really cool."
He answered back,"I can hardly wait."
Trent logged out. The code was easy enough; he would get a visit soon by somebody.
Dannigan played for ten more minutes then logged out. Seven different tracking programs had tried to find him but he'd been ready for them. All they got was some widower in Clearwater Florida. Two originated in japan, three in Korea and two in the states. One of which had been the Pentagon, the other the front for a Korean listening post in Los Angeles.
He back-traced the Pentagon and found the terminal itself. The DIA annex and slid in the interceptor. Dannigan snagged the one outgoing message from that computer to the listening post in L.A. which read,"nothing".
He buzzed to Madison, "get Lyssa and rodrick on the line. I need them to go to Tokyo now! I'll meet them at Rodrick's plane."
He pulled together a briefing packet in an hour then headed for the airport. They pulled in half an hour later.
"What's the emergency Paul," Rodrick asked.
He flipped open the laptop and pulled up the file.
"Trent Sloan. DIA deep cover. Completely blown but intact. The North Koreans know he's a spy but they got nothing on him, he's super slick. I need you two to go in and pull the Koreans off him and bring him home. Use whatever means neccessary but stay invisible. This will keep an elephant unconscious for 10 hours," Dannigan handed Lyssa a black tube with three preloaded syringes.
Rodrick filed a flight plan after turning in the rental and they took off. Hours later they landed in Tokyo at the Narita airport and passed through customs. Outside Lyssa hailed a cab and gave an address in the garden district. They both took a nap to counter the jetlag then prepared for the night then went out to the garage and started up Lyssa's car and drove back into Tokyo.
"You would have a tricked out Skyline. I bet its set up for drifting," Rodrick chuckled.
Lyssa just smirked and upshifted.
Jung sat in the car watching the house. Trent Sloan was watching a dvd of a situation comedy featuring his favorite comedian. He'd fallen asleep watching it, again. Not unusual, he often did. Jung hated those nights almost as much as the nights when Trent Sloan brought home a girl. Jung himself had only one night with a prostitute since the assignment started.
That was a thought. He'd call a service tomorrow during the day while the other agent watched Sloan in his office. He wished he still had the three teams he'd started out with, but after two months of nothing they were pulled. Only his team of four to watch for another two months. The North Korean felt a mosquito sting his shoulder. A moment later his chest felt tight and hurt.
Suddenly a woman with blonde hair and a face streaked with black paint stepped into his view.
She looked at him and said in Korean, "Goodbye."
Jung tried to say something but his head felt heavy and he couldn't breathe. The last thought as he slumped in the seat was that he must have been poisoned.
Rodrick crept up to the porch beside Lyssa and whispered, "All clear, just the one you took out."
She nodded then slid carefully onto the porch and manipulated the lock. It softly clicked open. Lyssa didn't stand or even raise up to crawl on her hands and knees, she literally slithered across the floor. Good thing too, Sloan was slick and had installed an old trick called Nightingale floor. Certain boards creaked loudly when weight was put on them. Lyssa knew of it and two ways to bypass it. The fastest wasby spreading one's weight across the floor instead of narrow points. The boards wouldn't have enough weight on them to flex and make noise.
She slid herself into the living room behind the couch and rose up. One of the preloaded syringes filled her hand slowly she slid the small needle into his shoulder. He moved at the discomfort but she copied it and kept the needle in as she gently depressed the plunger.
Five minutes later she tapped the cushion next to his head and got no response. Lyssa stood and called softly to Rodrick. He picked Trent up and carried him out while she picked up the neccessary personal effects then turned everything off and locked the house. Within half an hour they parked close enough to the private tarmac to see Rodrick's plane.
A quick spray of acid and the fence parted and Rodrick dragged Sloan through then carried him to the plane. Lyssa repaired the fence and drove back to the house and cleaned up then repacked. She called for a taxi to pick her up and take her back to the airport.
Rodrick's Gulfstream waited refueled and already had the engines running when she walked out of the terminal with their bags. He met her and took the bags inside. After Lyssa was inside then closed up the doorway and settled himself in the seat. Three minutes later he had clearance to take off. In no time the plane streaked into the night sky heading to Hawaii.
They refueled at Hickham Air Force base and gave Sloan another dose of the knockout juice and flew on to Los Angeles for another refuel at Seal Beach Naval station then touched down at the private airfield just outside Washington, D.C.
Dannigan waited on the tarmac and helped Sloan out of the plane and into his car.
"Gear up you're gonna be busy tonight," Dannigan said to them then drove him to to the office.
Trent groaned as his senses started coming to him. He hadn't been drinking so obviously he'd been drugged by someone.
"Welcome home Trent," a voice said from across the room.
"Home? what the fuck," he grumbled trying to sit up.
"Well not exactly home, you're in D.C. Trent," Danigan said pouring a cup of coffee.
"Paul," Trent asked recognizing him.
"Yeah. Its been a while buddy," Dannigan took a sip then passed it to him.
He knew Trent wouldn't drink unless he had first.
"Sorry about the grogginess but my people stay invisible Trent," Dannigan apologized.
"You've blown me Paul," Trent said.
"You were blown six months ago Trent,"Danigan replied.
Trent Sloan stared at him in disbelief. Dannigan nodded to the plasma screen on the wall. Trent walked over and started reading and couldn't believe it. He'd been compromised from the ground up a month prior to his observation of the teams.
"FUCK! How paul.....how did they know,"he asked.
Dannigan punched a few keys and a single photo came up.
"Will Cantrell? That sonofabitch! Are you beyond positive Paul," he asked angrily.
Again Dannigan punched keys and the information came up. Sloan read it all thoroughly then turned around.
"I want him, I want him bad,"he said quietly.
"Things are in motion Trent," Dannigan answered.
Will Cantrell walked inside his house in Georgetown. Another day and nothing from the Koreans. they were going to want the money back, provided they didn't just take him out. he'd have to start keeping an eye out and step up his counter-surveillance, alot. He felt a sharp pain at the base of his skull and all went dark.
Lyssa walked out of the study, and looked at Rodrick standing over the unconscious man on the floor.
"nice one,"she commented.
"Thanks," he chuckled," You got everything?"
"Yeah, a stash hole in the bookcase beam. He had a laptop, satellite phone and cash in it along with some files," Lyssa answered.
"Too bad we can't keep the cash," He said bitterly.
"Says who,"Lyssa asked.
"You can't be serious,"Rodrick remarked picking up Cantrell into a fireman's carry and following Lyssa out the back door.
"Jet fuel, taxi fare,meals on the go, parking spaces for planes, engagement ring, matching jewelry, three dozen Fire and Ice roses, dinner for two plus drinks and a bottle of champagne," she listed off.
"I take it the roses and the dinner are hints," he remarked dropping Will Cantrell into the back of the SUV and securing him with cuffs, gag and head bag.
Lyssa got behind the wheel, "too subtle?"
Rodrick shook his head chuckling.
They drove to the office. Lyssa injected Cantrell with the knockout syringe and left him leaning against the door with the intelligence minus the cash. She called in as they drove away.
Dannigan and Sloan walked out to find their delivery on the doorstep. An unmarked van drove up and a man in black BDU's and hat stepped out.
"In here gentlemen,"he instructed and opened the back.
They dragged Will Cantrell inside and the man closed the side door.
Three hours later they felt the van lurch as it descended on an elevator then pull forward then stop completely. The door opened again.
A new man in black BDU's asked, "how long has the subject been out?"
Dannigan replied, "three hours."
They were instructed to follow a different officer while Cantrell was processed in.
"Paul I'm know I'm going to regret asking but, what is this place,"Trent Sloan asked after twenty minutes.
A door opened and a man stepped in,"This way gentlemen. Now entering Vault section 27."
Sloan felt true fear. he'd heard of The Vault. Traitors that didn't make the news were taken to the Vault. Rogue operatives too. The embarassments, the unredeemable and the unsalvageable were locked away in the Vault. Few people knew exactly where it was, even fewer wanted to. The fact that Dannigan could make this happen wasn't lost on him.
They followed the officer down a long hallway and stopped in front of an open doorway. Inside it lay a naked Will Cantrell with his arm laying outside the doorway with an IV drip running to a vein in it. Two more officers came down the hallway with a pallet of bricks and a wheelbarrow of cement. Trent now understood the rumors. A deeper level of fear set in.
He and Dannigan watched as the three officers proceeded to brick up the opening leaving only an opening at the floor twelve inches wide and five inches high. The cement would dry in an hour and harden within six. The IV drip would be removed in ten hours.
"I think they're ready for us to leave Trent,"Dannigan said.
Trent nodded very anxious to leave the place and never see it again. Another three hour ride back went silently. They were returned ot the parking lot. Danigan handed him a set of car keys and gave him an address.
"Sleep well Trent. Its a DIA safehouse. Your Director will stop in to see you in the afternoon. We aren't supposed to see each other ever again. Best of luck," Dannigan said.
Trent Sloan shook hands, "Paul you saved my ass. Thank you."
Dannigan went inside as Sloan drove away. A nap on his couch and then he'd go see the Director of DIA. Hopefully things would be quiet for the next few days at least. They all needed a break. Especially Lyssa and Rodric, they had details to work out. Good details. Dannigan smiled at the thought of walking her down the aisle to Rodrick as he fell asleep on the couch.
Book 17 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
There's a big event in Los Angeles for Lyssa to attend but a new player in the narco-trade doesn't know who else is in town!. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Mykayla gracefully curtsied low to the applause as she stepped into the reception. She had just graduated Julliard and returned to UCLA for this performance. As she approached the center table a line of women turned to face her, women with familiar faces. The five in the center most importantly stood out. Katya, Marissa, Danielle, Tamiko and Lyssa.
They were all Primas. Katya Taliyenko being the reigning Prima. They were all here. The dance Master came forward and announced in a loud voice.
"Mykayla, come and take your place," he made a sweeping gesture toward the group of women in front of the table.
Tamiko stepped forward and said in heavily accented English, "Mykayla. You have shown your great skill and love of our art. It is with great pleasure that I pass this honor to you. My place as Prima. It is with great sadness that I must stop dancing for a while, but I am hopeful that it is a future dancer that is my reason why."
The Japanese dancer rested her hand across her belly and gave a warm look to a smiling man in the crowd. Mykayla stood there dumbstruck as the crowd cheered and clapped. It was true that Primas only stepped down for two reasons, injury and pregnancy. This was thrilling for her. Each one took turn hugging Mykayla and Tamiko, congratulating them. She was really thrilled when Lyssa came up to her. She was wearing a beautiful dress with butterflies printed all over it.
Lyssa; the Ghost Legend. She danced like no other and had reset the standard of training. No one had ever trained as she did nor had anyone ever spoke as many languages. If she was your friend nothing bad would ever happen to you. Katya was the living example of that. Light flashed from her left hand drawing Mykayla's attention. She looked and saw the most gorgeous ring she had ever seen. She knew Lyssa also modeled but that couldn't be a loan from a designer.
MyKayla knew that Lyssa was also known for favors. Lyssa asked favors and granted them too. A month ago Katya had sprained her ankle during a production and Lyssa had dropped everything to be on a flight to take her place for the remainder of the production. Even took the place of another friend for a week while she attended a wedding. The unsaid rule was that if Lyssa asked for a favor, you didn't say no.
Some of the nastier dancers maintained the rumor that Lyssa was a mistress and danced only to keep herself desirable. A rumor that didn't last long after talking to Primas who would very quickly set the record straight. One thing for certain, no one dared repeat such rumor in her presence. Bad things happened to people that made Lyssa angry. Mykayla saw a tall man step up behind Lyssa and rest his hand at her hip.
"LYSSA! LYSSA! Is it true you're out of the singles scene now," a voice asked.
Lyssa appeared to melt to him as she leaned back against him and smiled.
"Surely nobody cares about such things today. There's so many important things to discuss," Lyssa admonished.
Mykayla watched in fascination as Lyssa's man's eyes softened for a moment then returned to an intense, almost predatory gleam watching each and every person for a moment. Another camera flashed and Lyssa stepped away from him, over to Mykayla and stood next to her redirecting the attention of the photographers to her. Mykayla blushed as Lyssa spoke gently, commanding everyone's attention.
"Mykayla; congratulations on your achievement. I know the world looks forward to seeing you dance on the stages in dazzling performances to come in the near future. Give your soul to each and every step and your heart will soar to the stars as the music sweeps you away in the stories you share with us all," Lyssa announced beside the new Prima.
Everyone applauded.
In a small voice Mykayla said, "Thank you all. I just hope that I can share the beauty of the art we love so much."
Lyssa turned and gave her a brilliant smile, "we know you will. Enjoy this, its your day to shine, Prima Mykayla."
Felipe picked up one of the packages and hefted it. it felt right to him as he set it back and picked up another.
"Check this one ," he said passing it to the man behind him.
"Si," the man answered.
He poked a knife blade in scooping out a small amount of white powder, tapped it into a small pouch and squeezed a capsule inside releasing a chemical. The contents inside turned a brilliant blue.
The drug soldier nodded,"its pure."
"Good," Felipe said then took out his phone and dialed," transfer the funds now. Yes, twenty-five million."
They all waited then a phone rang and was answered.
"we're good," another man said then waved for some of the heavily armed men to follow him.
Felipe turned to his own men, "Load up...we have money to make."
In a short time they had the container empty and were climbing into cars and the van then drove out of the warehouse heading back to Los Angeles. they turned into the driveway of the large estate then unloaded. Several men began repackaging the white powder.
"Hernando, make the calls. Tell our....customers....that we have the goods they want,"Felipe said with a shark-like smile.
Hernando gave a laugh as he turned and started making the calls. Felipe looked to the tv and saw it was on one of the entertainment channels.
Curious, he asked, "Enrique what is that nonsense you watch now?"
"Something about a ballerina receiving an honor of some type. She is being called a Prima. Whatever that is," he shrugged.
Felipe looked at him for a minute then asked, "If don't understand why are you watching it?"
"Look at them...see now?" he answered.
Felipe watched and a moment later saw what he meant. They were all beautiful and it was fairly obvious who was the center of attention as it was only one in a dance costume and not in a party dress like all the others.
"mmmm they do look delicious. Perhaps a few of those around the pool would be nice," Felipe said making them all laugh.
Various men commented on which one they would like to try bedding and speculations on how it would turn out to much more laughter. Felipe finally called them back to work then left the room.
Dannigan walked out of his office and saw Madison watching transfixed to her monitor.
"Important developement Madison," he asked startling her.
"EEP! I hate it when you do that Major. Its an event in L.A., a new Prima has been named," she gave him a dirty look.
"I bet Lyssa will know about her by the end of the day," the Spook remarked.
"Sooner than that. She's right there,"Madison pointed to her.
Dannigan looked and commented," Not suprising. I see Rodrick there too. hmmmm engagement seems to really suit them good."
"She looks gorgeous. OH MY GOD! I love that dress," Madison said.
Dannigan picked up a print out and read it walking back into his office. It was a DEA report. Seemed there was a serious move being made by a new unknown player in California. A load valued at over twenty million wholesale was either on its way or had arrived in the L.A. area. DEA had no further information as to identity, location or affiliation. He started running running snooper programs that sifted through text messages and phone conversation searching for keywording of the major players in the organized crime.
Two hours later he got a hit. A music manager known to enable bad habits was looking to make a purchase of some kind of high value. That meant one of two things; either a song or some chemical assistance. Dannigan backtraced the information and found the cellphone after another hour of sifting. Several messages had went out, all along the same theme, something for sale for a high dollar amount.
Finally all the tracing led to several phones in an estate. The owner on record was one Felipe Ortega originally of Vera Cruz, naturalized in the late 80's. A few juvenile offenses but nothing serious, possible connection to the gang Escorpiones Concretas, Concrete Scorpions. The current leader of which was serving seven years in Chino penitentiary for armed robbery. Dannigan launched his snooper programs at the twenty phones currently located at the address. A satellite in geo-sync orbit over California could focus on the address. He sat back then and waited for a glimmer of what he needed.
CHAPTER 2
Lyssa strode into the house angrily.
Rodrick commented, "Never have I been glad you went somewhere unarmed. I thought you were gonna kill that guy from the Globe."
"Gee I wonder, THE FUCK, why! The sonofabitch all but shoved his camera under my dress to get a panty shot....or lack there of he hoped. Nice choke slam by-the-way," she said.
"yeah I have this thing about slimebags mistreating my fiance," he replied.
"God I hate L.A.! All these idiotic poptarts that so said 'forget' to wear anything under short dresses. Then make sure cameras are ready when they get out of a car or walk down some stairs. Makes me want to strangle them," Lyssa fumed as Rodrick laughed.
She turned around,"unzip me please."
Rodrick unzipped the back of the dress before she thought to hold it, making it fall to the floor. Rodrick made an appoving sound as Lyssa turned around wearing only white satin thong panties and white stiletto heel sandals, then rested her hands on his shoulders.
"Damn Miss Kordenay....I dare say you look very molestable like that," He growled softly.
She hooked her leg around him and brought herself up to wrap her other leg around and cross her ankles behind his back.
"OH MY! This tall lecherous man intends to ravish and have his wicked way with me! Whatever am I to do," she coyly pleaded.
Rodrick laughed and settled them both on the couch muttering, "hell with the bedroom."
Lyssa giggled shifting to take his weigh comfortably. A kiss had barely started when the doorbell rang.
"WE AREN'T HERE COME BACK LATER,"Rodrick bellowed making Lyssa laugh.
"IS KATYA AND MARISSA," Katya called back in her heavy accent.
Lyssa giggled as Rodrick groaned and squirmed out from under him. She then walked to the door picking up her dress and held it in place over herself as she opened the door.
"We are sorry we interrupt," the Russian Prima giggled.
"They haven't been that far at it, she still has panties on," Marissa, the Hawaiian Prima laughed as they walked in.
Lyssa closed the door and followed them into the living room,"Ok what gives with you two crashing my honey time?"
"The hotel lose our reservation Lyssa. Can you find us place to stay," Katya asked.
"Upstairs but you'll have to share a bathroom. c'mon," she answered.
"Table for four," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa nodded then walked up the stairs carrying the dress with her friends right behind her.
"Tell us all about Rodrick Lyssa," Marissa said.
"Da! Tell us he has BROTHERS," Katya giggled making them all laugh.
Rodrick called out, "Do I need to find dates for them and make it a table for six?"
All three yelled back in unison, "YES!"
He laughed then picked up his phone.
Dannigan watched the streaming feed from the satellite. Ten armed guards wandered about the estate. Mac-10's and Uzi submachine guns seemed to be the main preference. he watched as a limo pulled in and tried to get the image of the occupants. The face of Ernie Martinelli came into focus. That settled it. Ortega was making a big move on the cocaine scene in a hardcore way.
Dannigan knew Martinelli wasn't one to play around. He had a FBI file that would stretch all the way to the elevator. Right now he didn't have anything new that the FBI and DEA didn't already know. If he read between the lines Ortega had well over a hundred kilos on hand and it would be going fast. Lyssa and Rodrick were in L.A. They could handle the situation quicker than anybody else. He'd call them in a couple of hours. Dannigan started assembling the briefing packet.
"Felipe you want to move your merchandise don't you," Ernie Martinelli asked pointedly.
"Ernie. You and I have been having a good business relationship but fourteen hundred per kilo doesn't even cover my cost. I'd be giving it away," he answered," if I am giving it away then why should I give to you. You want to make money don't you?"
"Of course I want to make money," Ernie smiled.
"Then I will give you the price of sixteen hundred, as an old friend, that will cover costs and not make either of us look like fools," Felipe said.
Ernie sat and thought quietly then smiled, "Of course. A fair price for twenty kilos my friend."
They saluted each other with their glasses and drank.
"Let's get you ready to go,"Felipe said then lead the way to the car.
Minutes later several small duffels were brought out and placed in the trunk. Ernie leaned in and counted the contents then brought back an attache case and counted out stacks of bills and handed several to Felipe's man.
"There. All settled my friend," Ernie smiled.
"you must visit again soon Ernie, socially of course," Felipe said shaking hands with him.
After the limo left he turned to Enrique,"What you think now, maybe we can buy a ballerina or two?"
They all laughed and Enrique shoved one of the men jokingly.
Rodrick took the ticket from the valet and followed Lyssa and her friends inside. He returned a wave from two men at the bar who stood to walk over to them.
"Huck....Banker. good to see you," he greeted and shook hands with the two men.
"Wow Ramrod you must be doing good," Banker replied tweaking the lapel of Rodrick's suit.
"Woooo....I'll say. Lookit him; fancy duds, expensive chow and my those are some lovely ladies. Think they showed up in a limo Banker," Huck drawled with a chuckled.
Lyssa knew immediately they were both SEALs.
Rodrick introduced them, "Guys, this is Katya Taliyenko and Marissa Addams and this is my fiance; Lyssa Kordenay."
The two men looked at her then him and Banker said, "Miss Kordenay I'm so sorry to hear you lost such a serious bet to wind up with this mook."
Huck chimed in,"My deepest sympathies Ma'am."
"Some friends......fuck you very much. The both of you," Rodrick remarked.
The maitre'd cleared his throat then said," Right this way to your table Ladies and.....Gentlemen."
All three men smirked at the phrasing and followed the ladies to the table. Katya and Marissa very subtly chose their dining companions as they approached the table. Huck seated Katya and Banker held the chair for Marissa as Rodrick seated Lyssa. After drinks were ordered and wines and entrees were chosen Katya asked the obvious question.
"Why are you Huck? From Mark Twain story nyet," she asked.
He surprised her by answering in Russian, "no. They call me Huck because I remind them of Huckleberry Hound."
Katya smiled brightly and chatted even more enthusiastically. Marissa then asked Banker the origin of his name.
"I was born in one," he replied with a straight face.
All conversation stopped and Lyssa commented,"Oh I have to hear this."
"Not a big story, Dad was a loan manager and mom came to see him to get some papers signed to get ready for the hospital and went into labor there. The ambulance didn't get there fast enough and she had me right there in his office. My real name is Buck," he explained.
Marissa exclaimed, "get out. Are you serious?"
He calmly took out his license and showed it to her. Katya looked confused.
Lyssa caught it and explained, "Buck is slang for a dollar."
Katya laughed, "if you had been girl they name you Penny?"
They all laughed at her joke making her smile. Dinner went by good spirits. After dessert Katya asked if the two SEALs were afraid to dance and suggested a club she had heard of. The men were familiar with the club and happily accepted the ballerinas' challenge.
CHAPTER 3
Dannigan had sent out the briefing packet and found Lyssa's U.S. number. His call went to voice mail. He called Rodrick's number and got no answer after ten rings. He laid down on his couch and slept until two a.m. when he awoke to a ringing phone.
"hello," he answered sleepily.
"We got the packet, you want this done tonight," Lyssa asked.
"Yeah, take 'em out and destroy whatever drugs you find. he's currently not on anybody's radar so you have a clear zone but restricted to hardsite only. This needs surgical precision," he said.
"Understood," Lyssa replied then disconnected.
Dannigan checked the time, just after two. He set an alarm clock and went back to sleep. He'd wake up at seven a.m. to shave, shower and change into a clean suit for the day.
Lyssa and Rodrick both chuckled as two couples both tried to keep their passionate noises down in consideration of others. Rodrick dressed in black BDU's and Lyssa pulled on her form fitted black suit and boots. He checked his assault vest as she did the same for her harness then quietly they left in her low slung sports car.
Rodrick parked two blocks away on a side street from the Ortega estate. At the base of the wall they checked their comms then separated. Lyssa made her way over the wall using a tree on the west side and Rodrick did the same on the east.
Once on the ground Lyssa moved from shadow to shadow until she reached the first guard. The Marauder filled her hand as she closed in. In an instant She clamped her left hand over his mouth and nose, kicked his left knee from under him and thrust the blade deep into the notch between skull and jaw into his brain. Silently she lowered his body to the ground and pulled her knife free. Lyssa keyed her mic twice then silently moved on.
Rodrick came face to face with a guard and slammed an uppercut to the man's chin then grabbed him by tucking the man's head under his arm and twisted sharply, snapping his neck. A quick twist in the opposite direction ground the vertebrae into fragments and severed the spinal cord. He keyed his mic twice then moved through the sadows until coming up behind another guard and withdrew his dive knife. A hard thrust and he guided the blade between the ribs into the heart as he clamped a hand over the man's mouth and nose and forced him to the ground. He keyed his mic twice again as he moved closer to the house.
Lyssa found two guards standing together sharing cigarettes. She pulled her Jericho and used the silenced pistol to trigger off two rounds into their faces. Lyssa picked up the empty casings, keyed twice then quickly dug the bullets from the wall. She waited at the corner of the building as another guard made his way around then stood up quickly behind him and slid the Marauder's blade between the jaw bone and base of the skull. The blade sliced deep into his brain. He twitched in her arms as she lowered him to the ground then pulled the blade free and wiped the blood on his shirt and keyed her mic again.
Rodrick found one standing in a lit area and had to use his silenced Colt to bring him down then dug the bullet from the wall behind him and picked up the empty casing.
"This invisible policy has its pain in the ass moments," he whispered to himself.
Angrily he stalked another guard, bringing him down with a thrust of his knife into the man's heart. Rodrick keyed his mic and heard Lyssa key her's as well. The perimeter was clear so he joined her at the back door and slipped inside after her. they cleared the rooms downstairs one by one then moved upstairs.
The master bedroom was locked forcing Lyssa to use her picks to get it open then slithered inside with Rodrick behind her mimicking her movements. They flanked the large bed and eased up the sides. Felipe slept with the sheets thrown back in only a pair of boxers. Lyssa pulled the Marauder from behind her thigh again and gestured for Rodrick to do the same with his own knife. They crossed wrists and pulled back fast slicing Felipe's neck open. Blood sprayed up to the ceiling before he awoke to trying stopping it with his hands and saw two dark figures with black streaked faces.
"Adios Ortega," Lyssa said softly in an icy voice.
"Via con un gemido," Rodrick hissed.
Felipe tried to speak but only gurgled as blood poured down into his lungs and soaked into the bedding. Lyssa walked over and switched off the ceiling fan then stood on the footboard the stop it.
"This should be interesting," Rodrick whispered watching her work.
She ran a length of paracord from the fan and tied the white phosphorus grenade securing the handle then pulled the pin. A book of matches with a lit cigarette tucked inside made a timed delay to burning through the cord releasing the grenade onto the bed. the 3000 degree sticky white phosphorus would splatter the room and start burning through everything.
They found a stockpile of cocaine kilos and bundled money in the basement. They took the money and left another Phosphorous grenade set similarly over the pile of packaged drugs then made their way out.
In the car they used Lyssa's make-up wipes to remove the combat paint then drove casually away. They heard the sirens of several firetrucks in the distance. The house was quiet when they walked up to the bedroom. A shared shower then they slipped into bed but Lyssa didn't sleep long.
Huck and Banker followed their noses after the scent of coffee downstairs. In the kitchen they found a tired looking Lyssa disconnecting from a phonecall.
"Somebody looks like they had a rough night," Huck commented as Lyssa passed them both cups of coffee, sipping from her own.
The two SEALS picked up real quick that she wasn't in a teasing mood. Moments later Rodrick walked in wearing jeans and a tshirt, sipped from her cup then pressed a kiss to her temple.
Banker remarked," ok...we give up. What the fuck were you two up to last night?"
"Four people having the fuck-lympics down the hall kept us up," Rodrick growled.
"WHOA, when did you go operational again Rod,"Banker asked.
"Who said I was," Rodrick glared at him then Huck.
They were quiet for a minute then Huck said,"We hereby shut the fuck up."
"Good; otherwise I'll make you both go sit in the shitbird tree,"Lyssa snarled.
Huck and Banker exclaimed in unison,"DAAAAAAAMMMMMN," then laughed.
Katya and Marissa wandered down and into the kitchen. Katya sleepily asked for juice in Russian and Lyssa answered in Russian that it was in the refridgerator. Katya climbed up onto Huck's lap to sit at the counter.
"Can we have a lazy day,"Marissa asked.
Rodrick answered,"This is a lazy day. 7:30 and we're just now drinking coffee...its a lazy day."
During the entertainment portion of the news Katya became excited,"Look! Is Mykayla."
They all clapped. During local news they announced brutal killings in the bel-air section, initial reports were of gangland style with a fire. Evidence on the scene indicated that it was drug related but there was a severe lack of evidence due to forensic countermeasures taken by the perpetrators.
"Lyssa our flights leave tomorrow. Are you staying here or going somewhere else," Marissa asked.
"Rodrick has charters so we're heading back to Caribbean tomorrow," Lyssa answered.
Katya said proudly,"I go to paris for production then back to Moscow. I know for Christmas I will be in Moscow for the Nutcracker."
Marissa said happily," I'll be in New york for that, what about you Lyssa?"
"I'll be in D.C. this time. or so Greg said," Lyssa said.
"Rod you still doing the Bahamas," Banker asked.
"Yeah, kinda sorta....That's where all my aircraft are but I don't actually live there anymore. Lyssa has a house in Grand Cayman and that's where we mainly live," Rodrick answered.
"What about wedding," Katya asked.
"We haven't decided on a date yet," Rodrick said.
Lyssa remarked, "he wants Valentine's day, I'm wanting it in May."
"Valentine's is a bad idea unless you're eloping,"Marissa commented.
"Good point," Rodrick said chuckling.
CHAPTER 4
Dannigan watched the newsfeed and smiled. Lyssa and Rodrick were getting better at working together. Forensics had determined that there had been at least six making the assault on the residence. He laughed at that. If they only knew it really was only two very well trained penetrators. They needed to slow down on some things though, not just missions. They hadn't even set a wedding date, yet. He was more curious as to the venue. The states, the Caribean or somewhere in Europe? He wouldn't be surprised if twelve different designers were arguing over who would make the dress, and the suit for Rodrick.
The spook chuckled to himself. where on earth could they go for a quiet honeymoon besides Antarctica. 'Oh now that would be a great prank,' he thought to himself. He laughed out loud at that. Maybe rental of a private yacht would be good, or a trip to Australia?
He buzzed Madison, "Madison co-relate all of Rodrick and Lyssa's missions. I want to know places they haven't been that are suitable for a honeymoon."
"Yes Sir," Madison sounded impressed with the idea.
An hour later she brough him a print out and they both started looking for an idea.
Katya stepped out of the dressing room and showed the dress to Marissa and Lyssa, "looks good nyet?"
"I like it Katya," Lyssa remarked.
"Me too," Marissa smiled then went into another dressing room with a selection.
A moment later she stepped out wearing a short cobalt blue dress," What about this?"
"You can stop shopping now, that's perfect Marissa," Lyssa smiled.
Katya added, "It matches your eyes Marissa!"
It was Lyssa's turn. She went in carrying a fuschia dress and came back out drawing ooh's and aah's from both.
"Think the boys are having fun,"Marissa asked.
"They know a former teammate that is L.A.P.D. so they went to the range," Lyssa said.
"Boys and toys, Da," Katya giggled.
All three laughed.
"Katya...Marissa I though about this alot. Katya will you be my maid of honor and Marissa be bride's maid,"Lyssa asked seriously.
They both squealed and hugged Lyssa saying yes.
"now for new shoes and we're all set for tonight," Lyssa announced.
Several officers watched in awe as Rodrick, Huck and Banker shot within tight circles on the index cards on their targets.
"this keeps up we'll be splitting the check tonight," Rodrick announced.
They all laughed and Huck asked,"Where's the reservation tonight?"
"Probably need to ask Lyssa," Banker chuckled.
"Wherever it is you can rest assured jacket and tie are required," Rodrick said flatly.
"Hey, dates with international ballerinas? I'd wear feathers and a beak," Rocket said.
"Don't let the wife hear that,"Rodrick chuckled.
Rocket had gotten married to his high school sweetheart back when they were in the teams and they'd never strayed from each other. He'd been given a medical due to a broken leg during the big team betrayal by Kagan. The Navy told him he couldn't jump or fast-rope again due to the strain but L.A.P.D. didn't care and took him on without hesitation. Several years and two kids later he was happy and it showed. And Janet was still a looker, in fact she was even more attractive than back then and the kids were fantastic.
Rodrick was almost envious, but was glad there was life after the teams for Rocket. He held his tongue between his teeth when Rocket told them about the major happening; apparently somebody took out a up and coming druglord. The incident had all the hallmarks of military precision but the guy hadn't been on anybody's radar according to the Feds.
They all talked about the old days and some of the close calls they had until the sun hung low. A quick call to Lyssa and they all knew where they'd be going for dinner.
Lyssa had just finished helping Rodrick with his tie when the doorbell rang.
"I GET DOOR,"Katya called out.
A loud whistle followed by Katya's giggle could be heard. The bell rang again a few minutes later as Lyssa and Rodrick walked down the stairs.
"I'll get it," Rodrick said.
He opened the door and Rocket with his wife, Janet, came in. Introductions were made in the living room. Vehicles were assigned. Rodrick,Lyssa, Katya and Huck would ride in Lyssa's SUV and Banker, Marissa, Rocket and Janet would go in Rocket's car. They arrived at the resturaunt half an hour later. Drinks were ordered then wines and entrees.
Conversation was spirited and light with the men constantly teasing each other about incidents during training and time off. The ladies talked about mishaps on stage and lecherous admirers both inside and outside the production.
Finally Rocket called them all to order,"Ok, we're all having a good time tonight. Old friends are great to see and new friends are wonderful to meet but we have a serious problem. Though Ramrod got lucky to get Lyssa to say yes to marraige; they have yet to set a date. Which leads me to believe they are both procrastinating."
Rodrick spoke, "Marissa was right in pointing out that Valentine's day was a bad idea so I support Lyssa's suggestion of having it in May. Why not May twenty-fifth? It should be a Saturday."
"No, is not Saturday but twenty-ninth is," Katya looked up from her phone.
"Then the twenty-ninth it is,"Lyssa announced.
The table cheered and they all toasted to the day set. Dessert and champagne finished the celebration compliments of the management. After dinner they all went dancing then returned to Lyssa's house for a final toast then Rocket and Janet went home while Rodrick carried Lyssa upstairs amid jeers that they weren't married yet and shouldn't be committing sin.The house became quiet sometime after midnight.
Everyone slept in until almost nine in the morning. Breakfast was pleasant then when they were all packed Lyssa secured the house and they all drove to the airport. They bid each other good-bye with promises to stay in touch made. Katya and Marissa boarded their flights then Lyssa and Rodrick went to his plane at the private terminal. Hours later they landed in Grand Caymen and picked up dinner on their way to the beach house.
Madison cheered as she went through the morning's message traffic, "WOOOOOHOOO!"
She printed up the email and hurried into Dannigan's office.
"They set their date," she announced passing him the sheet.
He read it quickly then said,"Outstanding. About damn time. Now they need to figure out where to have it."
Madison laughed, "that'll be another few weeks to settle on that. They can't have it at any military bases can they?"
Dannigan frowned, "No and that's a damn shame. They both deserve a big wedding with all the regalia. Canopy of swords and the whole nine yards."
Dannigan thought for a minute, "Maybe they can; not on Lyssa's side but on Rodrick's. Get Dane Thompson on he phone. He's the current commander of SEAL team four, and owes me a favor."
A few minutes later his phone buzzed and he picked it up.
"Dane? Paul Dannigan. Remember that favor you owe me from five years ago. Yeah that. I'm cashing it in. I need a detachment in full uniform with sabers for a wedding. Actually the groom is one of your boys; well he used to be one of yours and I owe him a small favor. Rodrick Mason. Yeah Ramrod. Well the bride wanted a favor from me too, walking her down the aisle. May twenty-ninth is the date. Will let you know the location as soon as I get it. Thanks Dane," Dannigan disconnected.
Madison smiled," I already sent a message: hurry up and pick a venue."
Dannigan chuckled, "good. Stay on top of that."
Madison nodded then walked back out to her desk. She was excited, Lyssa asked her to be a bride's maid.
Book 18 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
London is calling and its Lyssa's phone, the omniprescient favor, a dancer is missing and she's not the only one. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa flipped through the catalogue from Waterford for the third time and still couldn't decide on a set for crystal. Various other catalogues lay scattered on the coffee table. Bedding, china, silverware, kitchen appliances; even furniture was among them.
Rodrick was out on a transport flight. A car collector had hired him for a ten city U.S. tour of a few prominent of his collection. He'd left two days ago and now Lyssa was going crazy trying to figure registry out by herself. The problem wasn't deciding for herself, she had to decide for Rodrick too. So said, all she had to do was pick the line and register their names then people could order whatever within the line chosen. Simple? Not hardly.
She'd keep her own last name for professional reasons so no monogrammed sets. Rodrick said he and his parents weren't on speaking terms currently so she couldn't ask her future mother-in-law for help and as for her own family; they had died not long after joining the Army and she was an only child anyway.
Infantry, Jump School, Air-Assault, Rangers, E.O.D., Special Forces, Delta, DemonWraiths, modeling school, Juliard and Bolshoi, even office mangement and secretarial school. Yet here she was, going crazy trying to pick out china patterns and crystal sets. She growled tossing down the catalogue and snatching up another. This was frustrating, the silverware company even offered custom design sets. Lyssa growled again and tossed the catalogue onto the table with the rest.
Her phone rang and she all but pounced on it,"Hello? hey Brian!"
"Oh thank god you answered Lyssa. I need you immediately. Please please please say you'll come," the man asked in a panic.
"Whoa. slow down Brian, what's up," she asked.
"I'm in London choreographing. Our principal dancer hasn't shown up for the past two days. She left the hall and never returned to the hotel. Nobody has seen her. Please help me, we open in a week," he exclaimed.
"Well I really don't have anything going on, sure. I'll catch a flight out this morning," Lyssa said.
Brian breathed out, "oh thank you thank you thank you Lyssa."
"you owe me big Brian....real big," she commented.
"Brian chuckled,"Lyssa I owe you huge."
Lyssa laughed as she disconnected and went to go pack some basics into her flight bag. She called and made flight reservations while she packed and had five hours, another call to Rodrick's service to say where she'd be and why. Another quick call to Madison as well, she'd fussed about not being able to see Lyssa dance the last two times. Lyssa assured her a great seat on opening night. She checked in after a quick stop at the resturaunt for breakfast and boarded for first class. Lyssa would sleep on the flight and be ready to hit the ground running.
Yvette whimpered from the aches in her joints. She'd been tied tightly to the corners of the table for a long time. No clock and no windows to tell her how long she'd been there. The first thing he'd done was rip open her leotard and tights. Numerous welts marked her breasts and abdomen from the whip he'd used.
She couldn't see much in the dark room but the smell of something horrible filled the air making her more afraid. He'd filled her ears with wax from a candle; locking her into silence, but she could see movement off to the side if she strained her neck to turn. The light over her face suddenly came on and a man stood over her.
"Please let me go. I don't know who you are. I promise i won't tell, just please let me go," she begged in her heavily french accented english then again in french.
She saw him move then then whip came down across her torso with a sharp slap making her scream. Over and over he lashed her with it. Hatred filled his eyes as he whipped her and mouthed words she couldn't hear. All she could hear were her own screams. Finally he stopped then grasped her throat and squeezed. Yvette gasped and gurgled as he strangled her then released her.
Her head swam with fuzziness as she choked and coughed trying to catch her breath. He went back to whipping her for a while then strangled her again. She passed out from it this time and when she regained consciousness the light over her face was off and one in the distance was on but all she could see was his large form and it appeared to be beating something or someone else but she couldn't hear. She tried not to make alot of sound as she sobbed.
Yvette had no idea who he was or what she had done to make him so angry with her. He'd taken her as she walked out of the hall after rehearsal. It was the fourth day of reheasal and had gone well. All she wanted now was to go home and hide. The light went out across the room and she pressed her lips together trying to how back her sounds.
Edward stomped across the stage toward Brian, the choreographer, "Where is Yvette?"
Brian shook his head, "Still not at the hotel. Nobody has seen her since the other night."
"Well how do you suppose we are going to have a production without a principal dancer,"he demanded.
"I made a call and have someone on the way. She'll be here in the morning," Brian answered.
Edward scoffed," hmmmphf...and just who is this nobody. I need Yvette to make this performance. She is a star!"
"I called Lyssa...and she's not a nobody. She's better than Yvette anyday. The audience will love her," Brian said proudly.
"Lyssa? I don't know that name so she's a nobody. The production will be ruined by this Lyssa! pffffft," Edward spouted.
"OH DO SHUT UP! You have no idea what you're doing here. Yvette was the nobody! This is the first time you've had anything to do with ballet, all you've done is music videos for one-shot pop singers," Brian yelled back.
The director walked up, "Did you say Lyssa? Prima Lyssa Kordenay?"
Brian answered, "yes, she's on her way and will be here in the morning."
The director sighed with relief, "We're saved. Great job Brian. Edward, go and take your casting couch back to the recording offices."
Edward gave a look of shock then set his jaw, "Now see here! I'm the producer! How dare you talk to me like that! I should fire you and take the money back!"
"You can fire me but nobody else will work with you; and its in the contract that my pay is non returnable. Plus a percentage from the entire run of production. So stop pretending you have any idea what you're doing around here," Michael said very calmly then pointed offstage.
The producer stomped away glaring at dancers, stage hands and assistants.
"Michael, how the hell did we get involved with him," Brian asked.
Micheal said flatly, "I write a better contract than he does. Lyssa is coming so our worries truly are over."
A glance around the stage revealed pleased looks by the other dancers at the announcement of Lyssa. They knew her name and reputation. The highest of standard, nothing else would be allowed on stage with her. Now if only they could get rid of the producer.
CHAPTER 2
Lyssa's flight landed at Heathrow and she passed through customs quickly. A quick taxi ride to her house was needed since she didn't call anybody to collect her. Lyssa freshened up and changed for rehearsal. She doubted it would be neccessary but she checked the Jericho and Marauder that she tucked into the hidden compartment of her dance bag and clipped her hair back with a barette containing lockpicks.
Lyssa chuckled to herself, anybody else it would seem going overboard. Far better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it. The strange thing was the newspaper on the flight stated that the body of a woman had been found. Investigators had determined that she danced professionally but had been missing for a month. One thing for sure the dead girl was a brunette and the missing dancer she was replacing was blonde.
Lyssa drove the BMW Z-4 straight to the Hall and parked in the back close to the stage door. Within moments Lyssa was being greeted by the cast. The wardrobe mistress chattered excitedly about the costume she'd wear. Lyssa assured her that she'd be able to take measurements by the end of the day and already had the white pointe-shoes needed for the performance. The hair-stylist was thrilled that Lyssa wouldn't need any extensions for the desired length of hair for the style.
Other segments were rehearsed while she stretched and warmed up then Brian worked with her to get familiar with the routines. By the end of the day she had the first segment almost to perfection. Not a worry, she would have it within a day or two Brian assured her. A quick stop off at wardrobe for her measurements to be taken and then she was walking out with several others of the cast.
Lyssa chatted in the parking lot for a few minutes then left. She stopped at a market for groceries then continued back to her house. Dinner was quick then after a bubblebath she called Rodrick.
"morning gorgeous," he said sleepily.
"Its almost bedtime baby," she chuckled.
Rodrick groaned, "you mean you're going to bed without me again?"
"Hey you left me with all those catalogues you sadist," Lyssa commented angrily.
"You're the more domesticated of the both of us. Until we hooked up I lived in my hangar. Remember," he reminded.
Lyssa laughed rememberig the spartan apartment at the hangar as well as his comment of never having slept so comfortably before spending the night in her bed. They talked for a few more minutes about current activities then said goodnight to each other.
He raged as he ripped apart the newspaper then stormed into the basement and snapped on the light over the blonde dancer, Yvette. She'd stopped begging him in English and only spoke French now; not that he cared. In a moment the whip filled his hand and he began. Over and over the whip fell across Yvette's body. When felt a twinge in his shoulder he dropped it and seized her throat. Smiling he began to squeeze until her eyes started to roll back then released her. The young ballerina coughed and gagged then turned her head to the side and wretched, but since he had not fed her, nothing but bile came out.
He returned to whipping her until his shoulder ached again then strangled her until she passed out. It did no good to punish the unconscious so he stopped. Swearing loudly he turned off the light and went over to the other and did the same. Just to experiment he brought out the stungun he'd bought the day before. He started with the lowest setting and held it to her leg first and triggered it. The brown haired girl shrieked and collapsed. He waited to see how long it took for her to come back.
Five minutes later she groaned so he began whipping her again then strangled her until she passed out. He made up his mind then. He would take this new dancer as well. This American; Lyssa Kordenay, would be his. A fitting replacement for the one lost two days ago. A glance to the far corner settled it; he'd take this new dancer. He went over to Royal Albert Hall and watched the back lot waiting. It wasn't long before a sleek black sportscar pulled in. A blonde woman in a pink leotard, white tights and white filmy skirt. He'd wait until she walked back out and take her then.
Michael held the door open for Lyssa as she walked from her car to the stage door. He was impressed. Instead of the usual rental from the airport, Lyssa arrived in style. No agency decals meant that she owned the car, not rented it. He talked with stage hands about lighting as the cast stretched and warmed up.
Lyssa went through the first segment with a few corrections then went through it again with no corrections. Things went smoother on the next. Brian called the cast together and walked them through another segment then let them go through it on their own. He called out instructions here and there then restarted them.
Their whole attitude had changed. As if now they had new dedication and focus. Lyssa led the way through the segment and they followed her example. Michael leaned on the edge of the stage and watched. when they all stopped he called their attention.
"Looking good everybody but I think we need to change the tempo. The music is not fast enough to keep up with you and I like your speed. we'll speed up the tempo of the music but you all stay the same," Michael observed.
They all nodded enthusiatically.
"Let's break for lunch then come back and try it that way," he announced.
Lunch orders had been taken before they started and the assistants brought out the packaged meals for each. They noticed Lyssa drinking from two different juices and a water as she ate a salad. The rest of the day went well after lunch.
Lyssa was pleased with the morning and the afternoon. The director's decision to speed up the music had been good. It had felt a little slow to her as well, but now was in perfect timing. Unless something came up they would be more than ready for opening night. A stop in with the costumer and she was done for the day. She walked out the stage door and two other dancers followed talking about current gossip. they bidded her goodnight and she returned it with a smile then settled into her car and drove out.
Traffic wasn't bad, arriving back at her house within twenty minutes. Without a beach or pool to swim in her morning workout had adjusted to a longer run on a treadmill and time on a stationary bike. Then again the climate was much cooler in London than Grand Cayman. After dinner she bathed then called Rodrick as she prepared for bed. The usual tossing and turning ensued due to Rodrick's absence before she finally dropped off.
Lyssa awoke at her usual time and execised; treadmill, stationary bike, heavy bag and speedball then breakfast and a quick shower. She chose a purple leotard and black tights that day with a sheer black practice skirt and tucked her purple pointe-shoes into her dance bag along with clean towels then stepped into black heels and went to her car but doubled back for a jacket.
She got lucky arriving at the parking lot early and was able to get a closer parking space than yesterday. Lyssa shook off a shiver as she walked from the car to the door. A honking horn drew her attention. It was the male principal dancer so she waved. Out of the corner of her eye she something move in the distance of the lot. it was low to the ground so she assumed it was a stray dog startled by the horn.
Suddenly a feeling crept into her mind; a sense of being stared at with hostility. On the pretense of waiting for the male lead Lyssa secretly scanned around. Nothing shouted sniper to her, but the feeling stayed. She was being watched.They both walked inside and began preparing.
Together they warmed up and stretched. By the time the rest of the cast were ready Lyssa had gone through her first segment with not one missed step, working from memory. When they played the music she got it perfect and was even smoother. They all worked on the second segment and rehearsed it several times then began on the third segment.
After lunch they rehearsed it as well and were smoothing it out so Brian had them all start from the first and work their way through. Michael called out various instructions to the stage hands and to Brian. The cast went through the sequences several times and after the solos the time was noticed. Rehearsal had run longer than usual. Everyone was satisfied with the progress being made. They were all released for the day and Lyssa stopped in at wardrobe again but wasn't needed.
She walked out followed by several dancers but they didn't linger as they had the previous day as it had become windy and cooler. they all hurried to their cars and drove out. Again she'd felt hostility directed at her. Not from any of the cast but from somewhere outside around the periphary. Lyssa felt like she was being targeted. The words of one of her trainers during Special Warfare school came back to echo in her mind.
'Niggling feelings and uneasiness actually do have substance to them many times. All too often if you FEEL it, its true and you may be fucked already. Remember this well for you jackasses will see this material again,' the voice a grizzled old Master Sergeant filled her head.
CHAPTER 3
He raged with frustration. This Lyssa Kordenay was not proving to be an easy catch. People didn't leave her alone. It was as if she was popular with them. He watched as she pulled in and parked then walked briskly to the door held by a stage hand.
That evening as she walked out her phone rang, she answered it and stood talking. Several other people left waving to her as she talked. He worked his way closer and closer then finally she disconnected and dropped the phone into her bag as she searched for her keys.
Lyssa had answered on the second ring,"Hey Madison. What's up?"
"You promised me I could watch opening night. I'm taking a few days off to come to London. I even booked a hotel room," Madison announced.
Lyssa laughed, "I haven't forgotten. I even have a box seat reserved for you."
"OH THANK YOU! I have a dress to wear. It's formal right," Madison asked.
"Yes Madison. The Brits go all out for productions. By the way, Try not to stare into the next box over alot. Royalty finds it distracting," Lyssa chuckled then held the phone away as Madison squealed.
"Later Madi," Lyssa laughed and disconnected.
Lyssa dropped the phone into her bag and reached in for keys when she heard the scuff of a shoe.
"AW shit,"She managed to get out, turning too late.
He rushed up and used the stun gun, knocking her out instantly. He ran with her to his van, threw her inside and quickly handcuffed her. Thirty minutes later he parked in his driveway. Another tag from the stun gun and he carried her inside.
Once inside the basement a chain was looped through the cuffs and locked, holding her upright but not fully suspended. He tossed her dance bag to the side. He returned to his van and ensured he'd left nothing behind then settled in to have a small celebratory dinner. He'd caught her and now she was his he gloated to himself.
He walked heavily down the stairs back into the basement and went over to the far corner.
He spit and then kicked the unmoving form and swore loudly, "ANOTHER IS MINE! THERE IS NO OUT! NONE WILL EVER LEAVE! MY BITCHES! MINE! FOR ALWAYS!"
He ran over and snatched up the whip and started beating the dark haired girl again. Groans of pain were the only noise she made as the leather whip lashed against her over and over then he cast it aside and grabbed a handful of her hair and then began strangling her with his free hand until her eyes rolled back and she passed out. The new one was moving around.
The pain in her wrists sped Lyssa to awaken. She heard the sounds of leather against flesh and opened her eyes trying to redline her senses to full awareness. A gagging sound caught her attention. A large dark shape in semi-light appeared to be choking a naked girl with dark hair. A candle was lit and the light over the dark haired girl went out.
A moment later another light clicked on, over a table. A blonde girl in tattered dancewear. She started muttering in French until the whip fell across her torso making her screech in pain then speaking again rapidly in French. Lyssa could understand most of her words but many were distorted by her shrieks and hoarseness.
Over and over the blonde girl said, "Whatever I have done, please forgive me God and take me from this place."
She tried to recite the rosary but he began strangling her until she passed out. He turned his head and looked over at her. Lyssa knew she was looking at pure sadistic joy now. Dark eyes looked like they burned with a fever, he reached up and snapped off the light and took the candle off the shelf. Slowly her brought it over smiling. He leered at her ferally.
Lyssa looked up at him with a cold fury and spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper, "you've gone and done the stupidest thing in the world. You won't be living to regret it."
Her voice was a hiss as she said it slowly and clearly. He leaned in and tried to turn her head as he brought the candle closer. Lyssa took the obvious route to open with and snapped her head back, as his hand followed her head she quickly lunged forward and clamped her teeth down on his wrist. The skin quickly parted between her teeth as she set her jaw then cinched tighter feeling tendons and muscles trying to shift.
He howled with pain and dropped the candle snuffing the flame and spilling the melted wax onto the floor.
"BITCH," the man bellowed.
He yanked her hair, slapped her face. He even tried to choke her but Lyssa turned, squeezing her jaws tighter not allowing him to grab her neck. Finally he started punching at her head and face. A blow to the temple stunned her for a moment and her jaws relaxed, he yanked his wrist free but her teeth had done a nasty job and ripped the skin. Lyssa gave him a cold smile ringed with blood.
"Come get some BOY. I'm FAR from done with you," Lyssa snarled.
He straightened then launched himself at her with an all too obvious punch screaming obscenities. Lyssa shifted at the last second making him punch the pipe behind her. She heard the crackle of his knuckles then lunged forward and slammed her forehead hard to the bridge of his nose smashing it. He staggered back so she grasped the chain and brought her legs up and thrust out connecting with his neck area launching him across the room.
"OH YOU'VE DEFINITELY GONE AND DONE IT! YOU'RE JUST EIGHTEEN DIFFERENT KINDS OF ATE THE FUCK UP WITH THE STUPIDS AIN'TCHA,'' Lyssa yelled out, taunting," C'MON BOY.....C'MON! NO WAY IN HELL I'M DONE WITH YOU!"
He rushed back at her and she dodged two more punches but a third connected soundly. She knew she'd have a black eye but didn't let it faze her as she rammed her knee up hard into his groin making him double over. Her shoes had already fallen off so she snapped a lightning fast kick to the side of his head making him almost fly across the room from the power of it.
He shook his head to clear away the bright swirling things swimming in his vision then ran over to the shelves, grabbed the stungun and thumbed the trigger making it crackle as he stalked toward her. Lyssa had felt moisture on the floor and rubbed her feet back and forth soaking through the tights. She got her feet as wet as possible, it would be a major factor.
When he got close enough Lyssa jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her foot against him. she prayed there was enough to transfer through his clothing as well.
"PUNK! THINK YOU CAN HAVE ME," Lyssa snarled.
He jammed the stun gun against her thigh and thumbed the trigger. They both stiffened then passed out.
A couple of minutes later Lyssa came to and looked; he was out. Her tactic had worked. The biggest danger of of stun guns; not that they can be taken away and used against the wielder. The fact that it doesn't have to be taken away to be used against them. the moisture had ensured the current travel out of her and into him.
She wasted no time snapping open the barrette and pulling out a pick. Quickly shoving the spring steel tool into the cuff, pressing the ratchet up. A flex of her wrist yanked the end free and she unlocked the other the same way. She now was able to take the cuffs out of the chain's loop and used them to secure him. Memories flooded back. Her anger found new levels as she looked over at the girl on the table. Lyssa somehow managed to push the whispered plea from her mind as she approached.
The light snapped on overhead and Yvette started praying again until a blonde haired woman leaned over her and said something she couldn't hear.
In rapid french she begged,"Please let me go! please hurry before it happens again! Please!"
The woman mouthed something then kissed her forehead. Yvette started crying then felt the cords lashing her wrists to the table loosen then her ankles. She sobbed louder as pain set in as the woman slowly brought her arms down to rest against her body then leaned in to mouth more words to her.
"God help me; I am deaf now! I can not hear you! Please take me from this place," Yvette begged in terror.
Lyssa gently turned her head and saw the wax plugging the girl's ears then tried to ease her up to sit. Yvette sobbed openly from the pain but was happy to be untied. Lyssa looked around and saw a pad and a pen discarded on a nearby table and quickly took them. In large letters she wrote on the paper, "you have wax in your ears. I can't get it out but we'll leave here soon and go to a hospital."
Yvette understood and mumbled through sobs,"yes. please take me from here."
Lyssa cradled her then carried her up to the top of the stairs then went over and turned on the lights. A brunette girl hung naked from chains attached to the wall. Lyssa looked around and found a single key on a nail and tried it. The shackles opened one by one. She carried the brutalized girl up the stairs. Yvette held her as Lyssa went back down. Over at the far wall she saw hanging from another set of chains the decomposing body of another girl in shreds of tights and a mangled dance dress.
She turned and saw the dark haired man struggle to sit up. Lyssa's rage filled her. Calmly she walked over and slammed a punch just to the side of his temple that slammed him against the wall then thrust her elbow down making his head bounce against the floor. He fought to stay conscious. The last thing he heard before he slipped out was her cold snarl.
Lyssa whispered into his ear," now YOU are MINE."
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa watched as his eyes slowly opened to bright lights overhead and winced.
"Do you know who I am," a honeyed voice crept into his ear.
He thrashed against the ropes holding him and screamed. She had tied him to the table. From a shelf she brought out one of his own knves and started cutting away his shirt,pants and boxers leaving him naked on the table and she leaned closer with a look of cold malice in her eyes.
"You plugged their ears with wax. You enjoyed their screams, its a pity they'll miss out on yours," Lyssa hissed then held the blade in front of his face.
Slowly she moved the knife down, tracing the tip across him until she got to his pectoral muscles then pressed the tip inward under the skin drawing a thin red line. Pressing her thumb down to hold the small bit of skin against the flat of the blade. Lyssa jerked downward, ripping a wide strip off making him howl. She continued, showing him each piece before dropping it beside his head, working her way down to his waist then across to the other side.
His screams hitched up an octave as she went lower across his pelvis then thighs. Lyssa found a wadded towel and used it to prop up his head, then with him watching she carefully slit open his scrotal sac making one of his testicles pop out.
"Its too bad I can only do this to you twice," she said in an icy voice.
Lyssa angled the blade making it slide down the edge, slicing through the tube until it fell and then scooped it up with the blade and laid it on his bloody chest. He looked at it with widened shocked eyes as he shivered from the pain of being skinned alive. She repeated the process with the second testicle.
She then walked away and came back with a round cardboard container marked Iodized Table Salt.
"Maybe this will make a difference," She said coldly.
Lyssa opened it and poured the white crystals over his mangled chest then smoothed it across with the back of the knife blade grinding the sharp crystals into his raw flesh making him scream louder. She carefully circled the base of his penis with the edge of the blade then held the skin against the blade and slowly pulled.
He screamed at a higher pitch watching the outer skin peel back like a sock or stocking. Lyssa casually sprinkled the remainder of salt over the raw shaft. His eyes crossed as he screamed louder from the burning sensation. She walked away and returned with a red metal can.
"That didn't help? Here; I'll rinse it off," she said coldly.
She held the can up and poured the gasoline over him; starting at his legs and working her way up. His screams were animalistic by the time she reached his chest and head. Lyssa picked up her dance bag and slung it over her shoulder after taking out a pack of matches. She struck one and held it for a moment then looked over at him.
"Past the gates and before the throne; I've been to hell. This is the second time I have ever been happy to do much worse," She said then dropped it on the table as she passed.
He caught fire immediately and thrashed screaming louder as she collected both girls and got them outside.
Yvette couldn't stop crying. She was free, the monster was dead. She didn't know the blonde dancer but she was grateful. Minutes later policemen arrived and two ambulances. The blonde spoke to them and pointed at her ears. She held the other girl close and rocked back and forth gently as they both cried. she had looked at the other girl's ears; they too were filled with wax.
The paramedics came over and gently separated them then loaded them into the back of ambulances to go to the hospital. At the hospital the emergency doctors slowly and carefully scraped the wax from both girls' ears.
Yvette started sobbing again,"oh thank you thank you I can hear some things now."
Luckily the doctor spoke French and asked her to please be still so she would finish getting the last of it out as a nurse cleaned the raw lash marks. Yvette tried to be still as she continued to sob in relief. a woman came in after they were done and showed her an ID badge saying she was from Scotland Yard.
After many questions the Inspector left. The blonde dancer walked in and hitched her hip onto the side of the bed.
"Thank you so much," she exclaimed and hugged her," please tell me; who are you?"
"My name is Lyssa; Lyssa Kordenay," she answered softly.
"I know of you, you are a Bolshoi Prima. Thank you Prima Lyssa," she hugged her again, "I thought I would never be let out. I wanted to beg to die. I want to go home Prima Lyssa, when can I leave?"
"Soon if you want. Some people from your embassy are coming to see you," Lyssa answered, "you don't know the other girl do you?"
"No, she was there before me and I could not see good," Yvette sniffled.
"Ok Yvette just rest. When you get home you need to go see a counselor. A trauma and rape counselor," Lyssa instructed.
"He did not rape me, just hurt me very much," Yvette said.
Lyssa cut her off, "I understand that but the effects aren't much different so go talk to a counselor or your problems will be much worse."
"Yes Prima Lyssa," Yvette nodded.
The French Ambassador knocked then entered. Lyssa excused herself. Several police officer were in the hallway. Each one made subtle shifts to line the hall. They were all very leery of the beautiful woman with blood splattered clothing. Rumors already spreading; she was the fiance of an American Navy SEAL.
"And just where is your precious Lyssa Brian," Edward demanded.
"We don't know, her car is in the same place she parked in yesterday. Nobody saw her leave or return,"Brian answered.
Edward gave him an exasparated look,"Hmmmphf! Most probably laying up in some bed. Typical Americans; always thinking between their legs."
"Some people take things for granted," Lyssa announced walking out onto the stage with two uniformed police.
"The ability to chew solid food being one of them in your case," She stopped in front of him and glared.
"Oh I couldn't agree more," Rodrick said walking up the side steps from the audience seats, "I'd very much like to know where the idiot is that gave you that shiner babe."
"A bag. A very small bag," she answered not taking her eyes off the producer, "Some psycho decided to snatch up some ballerinas. He had the girl Yvette that I'm replacing and some other we don't know right off."
It was then that people started noticing the splatters of blood across her pink leotard, white tights and sheer practice skirt. Edward tried to give her a haughty look and was starting to say something when she instantly spun and snapped a kick the caught him under his jaw and threw him back several feet. Lyssa bent down and pressed her knee across his throat then snapped a quick jab breaking his nose then stood up.
Lyssa walked past the director and choreographer, "I'll be back tomorrow. I need a shower."
Madison sat beside Rodrick and watched as the curtain rose. The cast came out and danced the opening segment. The entire show went without a hitch. The make-up artist had worked wonders covering Lyssa's black eye and various other bruises. When the show ended several bouquets of roses of assorted colors were presented to her when Lyssa took her final curtsey. After the show Lyssa allowed a brief interview expressing her wishes for Yvette and the other girl a fast recovery.
A few strings were pulled via MI-6 and many details of the case were kept out of the official report and what was left of the body cremated. Rodrick made himself very obvious and his credentials were explored. It became an unsaid but accepted fact that he most likely had passed on some of his training to Lyssa to keep her safe when he was not available to protect her. The case was quickly swept under the rug.
Madison was happy, she'd finally gotten to see Lyssa perform live instead of on a DVD. Rodrick unfortunately had to accompany Lyssa to Waterford and Wedgewood to look at china and crystal. He grumbled about wishing she'd left the serial killer alive for him to take that frustration out on.
Book 19 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Plans for the wedding continue on but where's Dannigan now? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Rodrick was aggravated. He looked everywhere more than once, but didn't see a pattern in the crystal that he liked. It was the second time they'd been to Waterford and would be going to see Wedgewood after, again and they still hadn't found something they both liked. Madison was still there and trying to help but Lyssa was just a picky as he was and nothing was really grabbing her either. He began to think that maybe they could just skip this part.
"Oh that's perfect," Madison said excitedly.
Her exclamation catching Lyssa and Rodrick's attention so they went over to investigate. Madison stood with an older man that was holding a sketch pad when they walked over.
"Look at this. Its perfect," she said.
They looked over and saw a drawing of a butterfly and an anchor. They both looked at it and came to the same conclusion.
Together the couple said, "That's cool!"
The artist looked at them both and asked, "So this will be the design for your crystal?"
Lyssa and Rodrick stared for a moment then looked at each other.
"I like it. Looks cool to me,"Rodrick said.
"Yeah,it actually does. Can you make a copy of that for us to take to the silversmith and Wedgewood," Lyssa asked.
He nodded smiling and made copies for them to take along. The Managers at Wedgewood and the silversmith were both thrilled when Lyssa and Rodrick showed them the sketch and asked if they could accommodate them. The designers of both places affirmed they could with slight modification to the design to make it unique. Madison was rather pleased with herself for the idea; Lyssa's butterfly and Rodrick's navy anchor. They rewarded Madison with a trip to Burberry for a complete winter outfit with coat and then an elegant dinner.
Madison rode back to the states with Lyssa and Rodrick to be dropped off at National airport before they continued on to Grand Cayman. The minute they stepped in she immediately went over to the coffee table and snatched up the catalogs and threw them into the trash.
Lyssa said hotly, "those are taken care of."
Rodrick laughed,"good. What else is there to do?"
"That's it for the registry. Now we have to choose a venue and catering and all that stuff," she answered.
Rodrick checked his email and said, "Hey, Paul sent a message."
Lyssa groaned,"Oh hell! We just got back!"
"Not that kind of message," He chuckled," says he's got a surprise for us on the big day."
Lyssa looked puzzled for a minute, it seemed Dannigan was looking forward to the big day more than they were. She'd already gotten calls from Hugo Boss for the tuxedos for Rodrick and his groom's-men. John Galiano insisted that the bridal gown and bride's maids' dresses be from Dior. Why can't everything be this easy, she thought to herself.
One thing for certain though; they couldn't have the wedding in Washington. It would be too high profile. Having it in Grand Cayman seemed like a better idea everyday. She'd have to check into that she thought as she changed into shorts and a cami T. Rodrick told her over dinner about routine hops for the rest of the week; he'd be home every night.
The next morning they skipped their usual triathlon so he could get an early start. The ground crew-chief Jokingly addressed her as the Mrs gaining a few chuckles from the crew and Rodrick himself as Lyssa waved and drove off to visit her restaurant to see about finding someone to help with a venue for the wedding.
Dannigan sat watching the DVD of Lyssa's latest performance at his desk. He already knew Rodrick would be entering the country, he'd filed a back and forth flightplan with the FAA. Basically a day hop for a businessperson. Back to business as usual for Ram-Air charters it seemed.
By the end of the DVD he had several messages stacked up. One caught his attention. It seemed an old contact that had gone into Interpol was missing in Spain. An Australian Army intelligence colonel that had retired, went into Interpol and after a few years took a posting in Barcelona.
They'd met during an exchange where Dannigan spent a six month Temporary Duty, TDY, in Sydney. Dannigan taught the young officer back then to take on exchanges himself in order to set up his own means of backchannel lines. The young lieutenant at the time took Dannigan's advice to heart but instead of utilizing officers and non-comms, he went with officers only as that was what he was mostly around.
Dannigan knew that by going through officers incurred more and steeper return favors than with non-comms, slower results too. Several hours of probing got Dannigan a field report. The gist of the report was that Blair Connelly had heard a rumor of possible terrorists in the area but hadn't been heard from after updating that he'd found a solid lead. Another couple of hours turned up something promising.
He cut orders for connecting hops to get himself to Spain then compiled everything into a briefing packet and sealed it.
"Madison...." he buzzed the intercom.
When she came in he tapped the envelope, "I'm heading for Spain. I'll check in when I get there, then every six hours after. If I miss a check in; wait two hours then get this to Lyssa and Rodrick."
Madison nodded and stared looking at the envelope then picked it up. Dannigan walked over to the closet and grabbed one of four go-bags then picked up the stack of orders and headed to Andrews Air Force base. Within the hour he was on the transport heading for europe.
Blair Connelly tried to sleep. Not an easy thing to do in a straight backed chair with his wrists cuffed behind him. So far it's been only fists, they hadn't gotten serious yet but it was only a matter of time until they did and then he'd really be in deep shit. What was worse; nobody knew where he was or what he'd been up to.
He'd thought they were terrorists. He was wrong. Multi-national mercenary team in all actuality and that changed things. Drastically. The two Pakis that snatched him at the end of an alley were just pick-up guys, he was now in the hands of a former IRA gunner named Evelyn and an Italian named Giancarlo. Probably from a splinter group of what's left of the old Red Brigades. The bad part was she was starting to get bored and that never spelled good news. Speaking of, they were coming back.
"So darlin', Ya might want to be tellin' us some things about now," She smiled and tried to sound charming.
Blair chuckled," Ya gotta be kiddin' me. Your bloke there couldn't throw a punch to save 'is ass. Hits like a bloody sheila! Been takin' tougher knocks comin' out pubs. Not to mention playin' a bit o' football. Aussie rules mind ya, not that wimpy excuse for football them yanks play with all them pads and helmets."
The Italian snapped a quick punch then.
"How bout you be a sweet one, curl up here on me lap and pass a Foster while I wait for your boyfriend to butch up a bit," Blair smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Giancarlo leapt forward two steps and slammed a punch knocking him sideways to fall over. Blair spat a bit of blood then looked up, "Down here's fine too, love. Be a couple spoons we could."
Evelyn smiled then drove her foot into his gut.
Blair coughed and sputtered," Ah sweetheart, that doesn't mean you won't be takin' the baggy shirt off and gettin' all cozy now would it?"
Giancarlo gave him a solid kick to the head which knocked him out.
Chapter 2
Dannigan arrived in Barcelona and waited until two in the morning to visit the Interpol offices. Flashing Department of Justice credentials got him in without any problems. He found Connelly's office and picked the locks to get in. Inside he started hacking the computer with an automated program while searching through the desk and file cabinets. When that turned up nothing he then started taking things apart.
Finally he found Blair's real safe. A USB drive hidden in the top knob of the coat rack.
"Cloak and dagger; trenchcoat and a .45. Blair you really need to read more than Mickey Spillane," Dannigan chuckled to himself.
He finished searching, double-checked that everything was in its right place then locked the door behind him as he left. Thirty minutes later he was booting up his laptop in a Delta bolthole.
Many Elite units had safe places to run to in country and at least one out of country. Delta, Nemesis, DEVGRU a.k.a SEAL Team Six and select Force Recon Marines practiced this. In the states they would have a place to hide themselves, a place to hide as a family(if they had one) and a place to exfiltrate from. Outside the states they would have as many places as they could acquire and maintain long term.
After setting up his system to snoop he plugged in the flashdrive and slowly started to hack into it. Carefully he sifted through the data until he found the file that had been the last to be updated. Two pakistani men that had vague Al Queda ties. He checked their faces against his own database. They weren't in any terrorist group, they were mercenaries under somebody named Straga.
No photos, no sketches, not even a general description. Hell, gender was even unknown. Dannigan wasn't about to assume Straga was male. Working with Lyssa had changed that chauvanist mindset. He even chuckled to himself about it. The most deadly weapon in the U.S. arsenal was actually its most beautiful as well. If James Bond had come to life, she'd dance circles around him in all categories.
One day she might even be the top seat in the agency, but first she should be happily married. Maybe even a kid or two. Right now though she was going crazy with bridal registry and he had an old friend to find. Dannigan chuckled to himself. All the tradecraft and military training she'd acquired didn't prepare Lyssa for being a bride. If she didn't settle down some unlucky fool to make a bad suggestion will be shot, or worse.
The two Pakis were the key and he had an idea of where to find them. Very few places to eat in Barcelona specialized in that cuisine. Few translated meant five by his memory. Dannigan drove around to reacquaint himself and check in with Madison.
His memory needed an update though. Few now translated to three and he quietly checked all three but didn't see them. No problem, he 'd recheck them, after he checked in.
She called Lyssa's Caribean number and it was answered in the second ring.
"Lyssa....its Madison," she said.
"What's up Madi,"Lyssa asked.
Madison quickly explained what she'd been told and what she'd found.
Lyssa was quiet for a couple of minutes then said," Madi, this is a personal interest for the Major."
"Friends," she asked.
"If i had to guess; they met during an officer exchange program. Neither may have actually hosted the other but contact could have happened anyway due to proximity and they became friends then part of each other's network. I did the same thing when I was in but had to give all those contacts up when I went off-the-books,"Lyssa explained.
Madison thought about it for a moment, "you mean it really works that way?"
Lyssa laughed, "Its called back-channeling Madi. sometimes official channels become compromised and as you well know, bureaucracy brings everything to a grinding halt. That's why the U.S. hosts foreign officers for training purposes and we are hosted in return to see how things are different and how their U.S. training is incorporated into their system."
"Oh, now i get it," Madison blurted.
"Madi, does he want me to go there," Lyssa asked.
"not yet. He made his check in so just sit tight. I'm just worried because he really doesn't do this anymore," She explained.
Lyssa said," ok. Just let me know if he does miss one and I'll get the next flight out if Rodrick can't take me."
Evelyn looked in at the agent waiting for her and Giancarlo to return and start up on him again. He was tough enough when it came to a casual beating. They were going to have to get serious soon, the longer they waited the more likely someone would start looking for him. Interpol was known for that, they didn't make it a habit of leaving any agent out to hang. The final decision was Straga's and that's what she was waiting on.
Her phone rang. She looked and it was a text message. Short and simple; Whatever it takes find out everything. Evelyn grabbed a large washtub and dragged it into the room then brought in buckets of water, a rag and a coffee can with Giancarlo following. The Italian leaned the chair back to rest on the edge of the washtub weighted down with water.
"awwww, are we gonna share a bath Love," Connelly asked with a wink.
Evelyn flashed him a smile the wrapped the towel across his face and started pouring water from the can across it to soak it then refilled and started pouring again slowly. The agent sputtered and gagged soon enough so she just kept refilling the can and pouring it slowly onto the towel. After a few minutes she lifted the towel.
Connelly sputtered and choked then finally wheezed out, "Forgot the bubble-bath Love."
They resumed with the water until he gagged and tried to vomit. For an hour they watered him, then rested for five minutes and came back. It was only the two of them so the waterboarding had breaks in it. They hurried to keep him from recuperating too much. Not that it mattered to him. They didn't know he'd done this before.
For hours they kept at him but he refused to talk other than sarcastic remark and blatant propositioning. Basically he ignored Giancarlo and focused on her. At first it was mildly amusing but now it was aggravating to her. She unzipped his pants, reached inside and gave his balls a vicious squeeze. He shook his head vigorously so Giancarlo lifted the towel.
When Connelly finally caught his breath he said," You're supposed to say 'turn me head to the left and cough', You'll never determine a hernia doin' it that way."
Again she squeezed making his eyes cross then had Giancarlo resume with the water. They continued the rest of the afternoon.
Dannigan watched as the two men left the resturaunt and walked down the street to a car. He snapped a picture with digital camera of the men, the car and its plate along with the resturaunt sign then quickly uploaded to his computer and had it set for an auto-transmit then followed them.
They drove for almost an hour and finally parked at an apartment building. He snapped off pictures of them going inside then which lights came on. They were on the fourth floor west side. His laptop transmitted the data while he waited. Four hours later, the lights went out. He checked the action of his silenced Colt then went into the building after picking the lock. He worked his way up to the apartment and worked on the door's lock. Sixty seconds later he was inside.
Dannigan searched and found one bedroom occupied. A quick slap of tape across the mouth of the sleeping man and loop of zip-tie and he was secured. Dannigan went after the other. They both looked shocked when he asked them in fluent Urdu where they had taken the Interpol inspector. He injected one with a pentathol derivative and five minutes later had all the information. He used one of their own pistols to shoot them with then cut the ties, pulled the tape and triggered off two shots out the window with the gun in one's hand then reloaded two spare rounds into the magazine.
He quietly made his way out and drove to the location he had been told and took several pictures then uploaded and sent them off. He pulled a set of Interpol credentials and drove around the block to park, hidden. He set the laptop to update automatically.
Dannigan walked back quickly then worked on one of the ground floor windows. It opened enough, letting him inside. Quietly he made his way across to the opposite end where a single light shown around a closed door. Gingerly he nudged it open and saw Blair Connelly. Just as the spook stepped inside the room he suddenly felt a sharp pain at the back of his head then darkness enveloped him.
CHAPTER 3
Blair looked across and saw a large form in a chair. His vision slowly focused and he recognized him.
"So what brings you here Mate," he asked.
"Oh just looking for some jack-ass Australian idiot,"Dannigan replied.
"Ah, then the good lord hath smiled upon thee. I'm right here having a lovely time," Connelly chuckled.
"This is a step up from your usual digs Blair. Love the accomodations," Dannigan commented.
"Ah now don't be so harsh. The decor leaves a lot but the service is prompt and attentive. In fact here comes the maid. I wouldn't rate five stars but she is full service," Connelly said and winked at the woman.
"Singing my praises now," She smirked.
Dannigan answered, "I'm not big on slumming. I tend to demand alot of attention from the management went I stay somewhere."
"Hey give 'em a chance. They even have lap pool here Mate," Connelly remarked.
Dannigan looked up at her and asked," a lap pool is good but what about the gym? And Is the personal trainer an additional fee or is it included with the package for the weekend?"
"Oh he's one of them eye-talians. You might need to ask him yourself, but she's not bad for motivating if you use your imagination. Needs a few wardrobe tips she does," Connelly chuckled.
"Just as long as they keep things professional. I'd hate to crowd in on your game and steal the lady away from you," Dannigan said with a sincere look at her.
The Italian immediately slammed a punch into Dannigan's midsection.
Dannigan grimaced then looked up, "Maybe I shouldn't have ate from that cart on the street corner...reflux is a real bitch."
Giancarlo pummeled his face for a few minutes then gave him several body blows. He then noticed Connelly looking rather bored and went over to punch him in the face.
He spat out some blood then remarked," about time. I've been waiting forever. You know with service slowing down; you can forget even a three star rating on the traveler's guide."
Dannigan barked at him,"Hey! don't run off. I want the full session. I expect TOP service here!"
The sun had risen and there was a clock on the wall that seemed correct. Dannigan didn't ask. If the clock was correct he had half an hour to make his check in or Lyssa would be called. Knowing Madison she'd already alerted her and within half an hour past time she'd be calling her to head for Spain in pursuit. The Italian took a break to rest. Dannigan glanced at the clock again when he came back and smiled. Time was up. The cavalry had been called. Hell on Earth was coming to Spain, now all they had to do was stay alive long enough to be extracted.
Rodrick answered Lyssa's phone on the third ring,"hello?"
"Get Lyssa now," Madison demanded.
"Paul missed his check in," Rodrick asked.
"Yes," she answered flatly.
"We'll head for Spain now," Rodrick said and disconnected.
"We're cleared," Lyssa asked from the kitchen putting away dishes.
Rodrick nodded. Lyssa closed the cabinet then walked around securing the house as rodrick helped. An hour later they were lifting off the runway heading north. They refueled in Atlanta then New York before crossing over to Ireland then down to Spain to land in Barcelona.
A taxi ride from the private terminal to Lyssa's house outside the city didn't take long. Lyssa deactivated the systems then signalled for Rodrick to come in. He set their bags down and went to the garage to check the car while Lyssa pulled guns from the concealed cabinet.
Two CAR-15's, with a full load and ten reload magazines, her two Jericho .40 cal automags, the 10mm colt Deltas for Rodrick and climbing rope then went to work on personal kits. A blowout kit for Rodrick then his assortment of grenades and the microsyrettes of poison then her own kit of the Marauder knife, Fairbairn-Sikes knife, the microsyrettes, a small bottle of acid that activated in contact with air and her assortment of grenades along with four small explosive charges; precision cutters and kickers.
Lyssa added the small black bag containing the chemical interrogation drug kit. Rodrick came in and changed quickly into black BDU's and his combat vest as she pulled on her battlesuit, boots and harness. They both quickly loaded their equipment and covered it all with long dark coats.
Dannigan's satphone hadn't moved giving them a location to start looking. Rodrick drove them there casually as to not draw any attention from the local police. From the briefing packet Madison had emailed them they knew Dannigan had left the keys next to the engine block. True to report it was there and they used it to unlock the car then check the laptop on the floorboard.
All information had been sent to Madison. They knew he had either gained entry via a door or window so they'd use other means. Lyssa led the way up and across the roof walking slowly keeping her footsteps silent until she reached the place she wanted, beside a rafter. She used the acid to cut through the metal sheeting and Rodrick gripped it with a multi-tool's pliers then slid it out of the way.
Rodrick leaned in carefully and tied off the rope then gently lowered it down. She looped it through her carabiner and slithered inside to rappel down to the floor followed by him. Lyssa noticed a string running across the floor from a nearby window and visually followed it to cans.
She whispered into his ear,"spiderwire on the window. Eyes sharp for noisemakers."
He nodded silently and followed her as they crawled across the floor. They moved slowly and silently to the office section. They heard the sounds of water and a person sputtering and gurgling obviously being waterboarded in some fashion. Lyssa started reaching for the door when Rodrick tapped her boot. Using combat hand signals he advised her to check the door. She nodded then slowly peered into the edges around the door and saw Rodrick's intuition had been dead on. She found a spider-wire; a monofilament line ran from somewhere on the inside of the door to the wall, likely to some cans or other noisemakers.
Using a piece of discarded wire she pulled the spider-wire through the gap and cut it then tied it off on a protruding nail. Rodrick looked into her grey eyes that seemed to glow when set against the pattern of combat face paint unique to her. She nodded to him determinedly. They took position on either side of the door with their guns ready. Rodrick signaled that they would go on three then silently counted down then yanked the door open and bolted in.
Lyssa streaked past and launched herself at the man boot first connecting with his chin. The woman reached for an automatic in a holster on her hip but Rodrick snapped the bolt of the CAR-15 for effect.
"Too late, we have you," He said in French accented English.
Evelyn slowly raised her hands in surrender. Lyssa took her pistol then roughly sat her in a chair and used zip-ties to secure her to it by wrist and ankle. Rodrick did the same with the Italian after Lyssa finished then sat both Dannigan and Connelly upright. She leaned and applied a piece of tape over both of their mouths and said in Russian accented English," You two don't cause problems; I forget you here, Da?"
They both nodded.
Lyssa spoke to Rodrick, "bring woman. She is now."
Rodrick dragged the chair over.
Lyssa asked her in the accented English,"You wish speak now, Da?"
Evelyn smirked,"piss off bloody bitch."
Lyssa took out the small black pouch and unzipped it. From inside she took out the syringe and vial. Slowly the syringe was loaded with the clear liquid and tapped out the bubbles. Lyssa injected her in the neck and put the syringe away.
Lyssa said in Russian," Past the gates; before the throne. I've been to hell. Where I'm taking you; much worse."
The Irish woman's look of sarcasm faded into a look of puzzlement then alarm.
"What the fuck did you give me," she demanded.
Lyssa smiled coldly,"If you beg hard enough maybe your God forgive you and let you die quickly."
Evelyn felt herself getting warmer by the heartbeat. She realized the woman hadn't injected her with sodium pentathol; she was using something else. Something worse. Her wrists started to throb as did her ankles and vision blurred.
A man she'd killed long ago came into her vision, his throat cut from ear to ear with blood pouring down he told her through a hoarse voice blood spurting forth onto her that more were coming. The heat left and cold set in. Evelyn shivered uncontrolably then saw a girl she had taunted mercilessly lash out with a punch which snapped her head back.
Lyssa knew exactly when the effects were setting in. Time was limited though. Dannigan should appreciate this show. He was always curious to watch her methods first hand. It should scare the Interpol guy shitless as well.
Pain wracked through Evelyn's body as a boy she and her friends beat to death because they believed him to be gay slammed a punch deep into her midsection. One by one a group of dead Dublin police officers passed in front of her each throwing a punch. Hot and cold flashed as the pain reached new heights within her body. A demon came into view covered in blood with flames dancing from its claws and feet. It stretched out one of its long fingers tipped with a blacked claw and drew a line down her forearm slicing it open.
Blair watched on. He had no idea what the woman had given her but whatever it was; wasn't a regualr truth agent. This wasn't an interrogation, it was an information extraction. He had little doubt the woman would survive it. His objective right now was to draw as little attention to himself and Paul Branton as possible.
Evelyn stared in horror at the wound then as the claw gouged a deep furrow into one of the bones she screamed wildly.
Something growled at her ear,"Tell about one you serve."
Evelyn screamed, "Straga! A woman from the Balkans! She communicates only by cellphone! plans to acquire three dirty bombs and use them to force money from EuroBank, United States and the United Arab Emirates. Fifty billion in gold and the release of twenty terrorists in various prisons!"
Lyssa traced the tip of the Marauder along the woman's forehead making blood drip down across her eyes.
"More," The demon hissed at Evelyn.
Finally she gave up the last bit of information; the one place she knew Straga could be. The demon reached out once more and drew its claw across her belly; opening it up and releasing her guts into her lap. Evelyn shrieked wildly as they were draped around her own neck. Lyssa looked at Rodrick and nodded for the Italian man to be dragged closer.
She yanked his head back and made the cut. Blood sprayed outward, coating Evelyn's face and body. What life was left in the criminal left as she shrieked and thrashed in agonized terror.
Lyssa leaned close to Connelly, "when wake up. Leave this alone, nyet?"
Both men nodded. Lyssa applied a sleeper hold to both then uncuffed them before leaving.
CHAPTER 4
Madison answered before the end of the first ring.
Lyssa didn't allow for small talk,"Madi i need the location of the cellphone with this number."
Madison typed in the number and started tracing its information. The phone had no GPS, was prepaid and purchased at an airport in Lisbon. Madison tried a wild idea and checked the seller's records. Within a fifteen minute timeframe ten phones were purchased, but only three were paid for with cash. All three had used the same celltower recently in Madrid.
"Find her Madison! Use every trick and find her fast," Lyssa ordered.
Madison used Dannigan's terminal and accessed three satellites focused on that area. None of the cellphones were on. Of the cellphones on in that area she eliminated all non-prepaid phones and then eavesdropped the text messages and found one that stood out. She snooped through the traffic camera system and found several women. One face matched that from the Lisbon airport.
She'd found who Lyssa was searching for. From then on Madison tracked her to an apartment building. Lyssa and Rodrick were in transit heading for Madrid. She used another satellite to scan the building for heat signatures and counted eight then locked the other satellite to watch the building entrances in case she left.
Dannigan had been the first to awake. He and Connelly were free, he shook him and got a groan.
"C'mon Blair, get up. we gotta go," Dannigan tried to get him up.
"Paul? What happened," he asked.
"Chick put a sleeper hold on us. Not a bad deal considering the alternative," Dannigan answered.
Connelly shook his head trying to clear it, "we gotta make calls, bring people online."
Dannigan helped him up, "Forget it Blair."
"What? you're gonna ignore this Paul," Connelly sputtered.
"Blair, wherever they went; even if we knew, we're still at least eight hours behind them and we have no clue who they were," Dannigan explained.
They both looked at what remained of their captors. The sight was beyond grotesque.
Dannigan nodded to the bodies, "Blair this is beyond Interpol. Its beyond even me. That chick makes Charles Manson look like Mary fuckin' Poppins. Anybody, anytime, anywhere and you know it."
Connelly nodded finally then leaned on Dannigan to make their way out.
"I know a no-questions asked doctor that can patch us up," Dannigan said.
Connelly nodded, "good. I'll have to answer enough questions as it is I think."
Lyssa looked at the building Madison had directed them to. Looking through binoculars they eliminated the first two floors.
"Fourth floor is negative," Rodrick stated.
"ok. she's on three then. how many possibles,"Lyssa asked.
"Five apartments, two have no heat. One has multiples and two have singles,"Rodrick listed.
The sun had set and many lights shone through the windows.
"I'll take the outside, you take the inside,"Rodrick offered.
Lyssa nodded and passed him the rope. Rodrick slowly climbed up the outside wall using the recessed mortar brickwork for finger and toe-holds.
"I need to get some of those ninja claw things if I'm gonna be doing this kinda shit," he muttered.
Minutes later he used infra-red goggles to carefully look through the window. A single form sat in a chair against the far wall. With the exception of a table littered with papers that seemed to be the only furniture. He took off the goggles and used a small thermo scope and saw the form was female and armed.
Rodrick leveraged himself up to the windowsill and used a diamond tipped cutter to get to the latch then slowly open the window. He literally slithered inside and snaked his way over to the single form. Lyssa had given him a syrette of fast acting anesthetic.
Slowly he raised it up then jabbed it into her neck and squeezed. Straga leapt to her feet and tried to draw a weapon but the drug worked even faster with her speeding heartbeat and swooned once then fell. Rodrick checked her for more weapons then let Lyssa in through the door. They took only a few minutes to secure her then called Madison with the location and status before quietly leaving.
Connelly couldn't believe it, Straga had all but been delivered. Dannigan seemed very surprised that Straga turned out to be a woman and had been left alive for capture by person, or rather; persons unknown. Only a dark shadow in the night was all she knew and was furious about it. The pictures of her cohorts disturbed her, what was left of them.
He'd seen interrogations before, both in and out of the service but nothing like what he'd seen that night. Toxicology came up with an unknown chemical in Irish woman's system. Nothing from the United States, former Soviet Union or China. All he knew about it was there were definite hallucinogenic effects.
Whoever they were, they were beyond vicious, highly motivated and skilled. His good friend Paul seemed like he wanted distance from them. A lot of distance. Normally this would be the point where he pulled out all stops and searched why, but they had an agreement. Stay out of each other's business except to save each other's life.
Neither were in danger now so he stayed out of Paul Dannigan's business and instead flagged the methodology of the torture/interrogation, including the toxicology, for any future cases that came along.
Rodrick sorted through Hugo Boss tuxedo jackets while Lyssa and Ingo Wilts chatted about fall lines. He already had two black tuxedos. The greys were nice but he took interest in the white ones.
The white tuxedos reminded him of naval dress whites. That was a thought, he and his groomsmen could wear the white tuxedos in place of uniforms.
He whispered into her ear,"I think white tuxedos. It'd be like we're all in uniforms again."
"ooooooh I like that idea. You'd all be able to wear your budweisers and a few ribbons wouldn't you," Lyssa asked.
Budweiser referring not to the beer but the crest worn by all SEALs; an eagle, flintlock pistol and trident imposed on an anchor. Rodrick nodded making her smile.
Ingo overheard Lyssa and asked, "White tuxedos? Not a problem. Would I need to make any adjustments to anything to accomodate?"
Rodrick drew a circle with his finger around the pocket area,"could you reinforce this area; for our ribbons?"
"Ah, I understand now. Military medals, Ja," Hugo asked pointedly.
"Ja Herr Wilts," Rodrick answered.
Ingo replied with a smile, "I can do that with no problem and it will be invisible. Only you and your men will know about it."
Ingo stopped for a moment looking thoughtful then asked, "What military please?"
Rodrick answered,"U.S.Navy."
"Ah, your worries will be over. I will make sure you are all very happy with the white tuxedos. Inspired by your Navy. Yes, very dashing officers yes," Ingo clapped his hands .
Ingo turned to Lyssa, "Not to worry Lyssa. I will make sure that your heart will melt when you see him at the end of the aisle waiting for you. John Galiano will make your gown yes?"
Lyssa nodded, "John was the first to call and insisted."
"Then all will be perfect on the day, a stunning bride and handsome groom," the senior Vice President of Hugo Boss proclaimed.
"just don't forget to keep that weekend open so you can be there yourself," Rodrick pointed out.
The german laughed, "HA! Miss the wedding of the century? Not for the world, I think you say; because the world loves Lyssa and she loves you!"
Lyssa showed her truest grace and blushed.
Ingo looked intently at Rodrick, "I have seen Lyssa walk the runways of the world, wearing clothes envied by princesses. I have seen her dance for Kings and Queens that bowed to her afterward. The man that has won her heart must be the best in all the world. For certain, or she would not have him."
With that Ingo Wilts turned smiling and went to his studio leaving Rodrick and Lyssa staring in awe at his statement.
Finally Rodrick spoke, "Let's go home, we still have a lot of wedding to plan and I'll start helping more from now on."
Together they walked out, heading for the airport then Grand Cayman.
Book 20 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Life goes on until an old friend calls, what's going on in Moscow? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan swallowed the eight hundred milligram ibuprofen tablets and washed them down with coffee. All branches of the service called them the same thing; Grunt candy. It'd been a week since Barcelona and he was still sore all over, sporting a multitude of bruises including two blackened eyes. the doctor also pointed out he had two cracked ribs as well. He was better off than the irish woman though. Lyssa really did a number on her.
He'd read reports about her interogations but never watched before. She truly could make Charles Manson look like Mary Poppins and stay objective about it. The bonus was all the intel from Straga's apartment. It was actually a revised who's who of terrorist suppliers; weapons, smuggling, forgers, financiers. Interpol made sure that every agency in the world had the updated information.
The office would be quiet for a while. Madison had taken time off, she'd earned it. St.Louis was nice this time of year so she should be enjoying the visit with her family. Lyssa and Rodrick were doing well; the tuxedos were selected, they were registered for crystal, china and silverware. He'd already purchased the silverware for them on behalf of the agency and as a personal gift he'd reserved a yacht to take them around the euro-side of the Mediterranean. that should keep them both out of trouble and focused on
being newlyweds for ten days. All they had to do was get there.
A lot of time between now and then so anything could and more than likely, would happen. Murphy ruled the would, agencies just cleaned up after. He laughed at the analogy, and thought to himself that it would look good on a t-shirt. Nothing earth-shattering was jumping up so he decided to call it a day early and headed out for the weekend.
Lyssa and Rodrick sat looking through brochures and not liking anything. All tourist weddings, resorts mainly. The last thing either of them wanted was a bunch of tourists around.
The planner came back in,"sorry about that interruption, now Caribbean club will be perfect. We'll decorate the palm trees with your colors and have an aisle of smoothed, imprinted sand down the beach..."
"Whoa. Hold it," Lyssa interrupted,"once again; we don't want a beach wedding. I'll explain one last time; we're not tourists. A guest list of a hundred. We already have catering, including the cake and would like a chapel or cathedral please."
She sat with a blank look for a moment then pulled another brochure, "The Ritz-Carlton has a lovely spot along the water.."
"Let's go,"Rodrick stood up.
"Yeah. We need a professional's help," Lyssa replied.
"Excuse me! I am a professional," the planner huffed.
"What did Lyssa say we did NOT want,"Rodrick asked looking over the rims of his aviator shades.
"But this is the Islands; everybody gets married on the beach," she protested.
"Not EVERYBODY and just for your information my house is on the beach you fucking ditz," Lyssa said coldly then walked out as Rodrick held the door for her.
They drove over to the resturaunt and sat at the bar.
Adrianne, the Manager, set their drinks down, "How'd it go?"
"She about drove us crazy. Nothing but beach weddings and resort hotels, blah blah blah,"Lyssa fumed.
"Anything we said went in one ear and out the other...shortest trip in the Caribbean," Rodrick commented.
Adrianne looked shocked,"Are you serious? She came highly recommended."
"By whom,"Lyssa asked directly.
"Board of tourism," Adrianne admitted meekly.
"ugh. Adrianne that's the whole point, we're not tourists," Lyssa reminded her.
"Lyssa everybody local gets married in a church, but neither of you are members of one. Remember,"she pointed out," you two are here then gone and come back but out of sight sometimes days at the time."
"ok, we get it Adrianne. we live here but not locals,"Rodrick stated.
"well, to be honest; you aren't," She answered him.
They were all silent for a few moments then Adrianne said, "The only place that might be sort of what you want might be that new place, its actually made to look very old. almost gothic looking I guess you could say. Its on the bluff overlooking the bay. Damn I can't remember the name of it, but it is a church."
Rodrick looked at Lyssa and shrugged, "what could it hurt to go look?"
Lyssa nodded and they left.
Ekaterina couldn't stand it. She didn't want to be afraid anymore but she didn't know who to trust that would help her. Her prima called her out.
"Katrina! You must focus. Again you are out of position," she said firmly.
"yes Prima Katya," she replied.
Katya Taliyenko watched her and within moments her understudy was out of position again, "stop stop stop. Wrong again. Watch me Katrina and learn well."
Katya went through the set again then walked back,"now you."
Her understudy went through it with difficulty and had to be called down.
The dance Mistress finally stepped in,"that's enough for today."
Ekaterina sighed as she slipped off her shoes and stuffed them into her bag and left.
"Olga I don't understand, "Katya said, "I've seen her dance before. This should be easy for her."
Olga simply nodded then turned to go into the next room where several young girls worked on basics while Katya unlaced her pointe-shoes and put them in her bag.
Something outside drew her attention. Ekaterina stood talking with two men, one of which quickly slapped her. Katya Immediately jammed her feet into her shoes and ran for the door.
"You will do as we say Katrina," one man said.
"NYET," Katya yelled as she slapped the man,"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH A DANCER IN SUCH A WAY!"
"Prima Katya please no," Ekaterina pleaded and tried to pull her back.
One of the men started forward but the other held him back and shook his head.
"GO! ONLY THE HONORED MAY COME HERE! AND YOU HAVE NONE," Katya demanded.
They gave Ekaterina a menacing look then slowly left.
"Please Prima, I am in so much trouble now. I have to go," Ekaterina turned and ran down the street.
Katya saw the tiger tattoos on the men, she needed help. She hurried home and locked the doors. After watching for a few minutes she took out her phone and dialed the only person she knew could help.
Rodrick grabbed Lyssa's phone by accident.
He answered sleepily, "You better be dying."
"Rodrick? Where is Lyssa? I need Lyssa please," Katya said quickly.
She heard him mumble, "girl in Russian."
Lyssa asked sleepily in russian,"Hello?"
Katya launched into rapid Russian, "Lyssa I have no favor owed but I need you,please."
Lyssa was awake now, "Whoa slow down Katya I only caught like three words of that. start over and go slowly."
Lyssa slipped out of bed to talk on the deck so Rodrick could go back to sleep.
"Lyssa I need help, I have no favor owed but I need you," Katya said.
"What's the problem? Aren't you in Moscow,"Lyssa asked.
"Da, Lyssa my understudy. There is something with mafia. I have no one else to call you can do things. You protected us. I do not know what to do," Katya pleaded.
"ok Katya calm down, are you sure about this mafia bit," Lyssa asked.
"I saw the tattoo Lyssa. a tiger on his face," Katya answered.
Lyssa thought for a moment then said, "ok that's enough for me. I'll fly out in the morning."
"Thank you Lyssa, there was nobody to ask for help, only you," Katya sighed with relief.
"Get some rest Katya, I'll be there soon," Lyssa said then disconnected.
CHAPTER 2
Rodrick watched Lyssa pack, "Her understudy is having mafia problems? I don't get it, how does a high level ballerina get involved with Russian mafiosi?"
"Things are strange over there," Lyssa explained, "Mafia are everywhere. Maybe one got really smart and decided to fund a production to bring in some legitimate cash flow or rather sugardaddy an up and coming dancer. Unless she has or is connected to something they want."
She packed her pointe-shoes; black, pink, white and red then same color leotards, tights and practice skirts. Heels and boots went into the bag along with a few choice fall outfits and her makeup case and laptop.
"Still strange to me, It's not their thing. The only interest they show in girls are the kind they can market for sex,"Rodrick said.
"Normally you'd be right too baby, but things go from strange to bizarre over there faster than you can say 'what the fuck was that.' trust me," Lyssa commented.
Rodrick laughed then picked up the carry-on bag after she closed it. She smiled then glanced to the mirror; the black skirt and pink satin blouse looked fine for traveling as she stepped into a pair of black patent pumps then followed him out.
Rodrick accompanied her to the jetway.
She kissed him,"Call you when I get in."
"Sure you don't want me to come along,"He asked.
"I got this. You get the hard assignment; go talk to the good reverend about renting the church for the wedding," She chuckled.
Rodrick goosed her as she turned to board the plane. The two flight attendants chuckled as she passed them her ticket. They directed her to first class. Lyssa settled in and napped until Atlanta then again from New york to London where she had an hour layover for the Moscow flight.
It was early morning when she cleared customs. The officer that gave her cursory search had a daughter that trained for ballet and knew who she was.
"Welcome back Prima Lyssa," the officer smiled.
Lyssa replied in flawless Russian, "Thank you officer, I feel the chill of autumn already and I suspect the leaves are in their most brilliant colors."
The officer smiled as she passed Lyssa's passport back after stamping it.
"you must have a little girl that dances," Lyssa asked with a smile.
"Da, her favorites are Katya and you. Lyssa the Ghost Legend, she calls you. You came from nowhere and took the world by storm. only appearing when you are needed most," the Officer confirmed.
Lyssa smiled and told her that she would be found at the Bolshoi Academy then left to take a taxi to a house in a quiet neighborhood. She paid the fare and tipped well. She went inside the house and changed into dance-wear then drove her car to the Academy.
Katya walked in and took off her coat then her shoes and began to stretch and warm up. She then laced on her pointe-shoes to start practicing. She went through her basics then pointe-work after snapping a resin bead on the floor. Several dancers passed through calling their greetings to her when Ekaterina finally showed, with a bruise blooming on her cheek. Katya was about to speak when an old woman walked into the room and slammed the tip of her cane to the floor three times. Everyone stopped and focused their attention on the dance mistress.
"It has been a long time but an old pupil has returned to visit us," She announced in a very clear voice then slammed the floor thrice again.
Lyssa stepped out from the hallway and walked to the forward center of the floor then turned and curtsied to the dance mistress.
Lyssa held her curtsey and said ,"Thank you for that warm greeting Prima Olga."
"You are, as always, most welcome Lyssa. We are grateful to see you but I'm sure one is more enthusiastic than the rest," She remarked.
As if on that cue Katya ran forward and hugged her friend.
Many whispered in awe, "its Lyssa. The Ghost Legend is here."
Lyssa stepped forward, standing tall and proud, giving them all a commanding look. In unison all the dancers either bowed or curtsied to her.
"Since I've come to visit; show me what you can do," Lyssa said in a tone that was both soft and commanding.
The dance mistress slammed her cane twice. The dancers immediately took their positions and began. Lyssa stood motionless in a ready position watching them with a sharp gaze as they went through the routines.
Ekaterina was in the middle of the solo when Lyssa finally spoke.
"Stop," Lyssa called out.
Ekaterina knew Lyssa had seen her mistake. mentally she cursed herself.
"That was not a very convincing performance of Clara, ballerina," Lyssa said standing in front of her then circled around once.
Ekaterina suppressed a shiver. The way Lyssa addressed her as 'Ballerina' did not sound good.
She walked back to front center and stood in her previous pose, "Again; Ballerina."
Ekaterina noticed others shift uncomfortably, they had noticed the obvious too. Lyssa was becoming short-tempered with her for stupid mistakes.
Ekaterina started over and misstepped in a different spot.
"Stop. Enough if this train wreck," Lyssa called out again and walked to her, "I have no idea where your head is BALLERINA, but it is NOT on what you're doing."
Lyssa looked over to Katya, "Apparently she has mistaken your sweetness for being lax Katya, I see she needs.....personal attention, if she aspires to dance for christmas. You DO want to dance for christmas, Da?"
The rest had cringed when she had said 'personal attention', it didn't sound nice to them. In fact, even Katya almost looked away but caught herself.
"Da Prima Lyssa! I want to dance for christmas," Ekaterina answered quickly.
"Then what must happen to ensure that YOU do and not one of these OTHER fine dancers," Lyssa asked pointedly.
"I must work harder. No more mistakes Prima Lyssa," she answered without prompting.
"Perhaps it is an issue of discipline, your mind wandering, so I'll help you refocus your attention on dancing. You'll hold this position until I say otherwise. Just as Prima Katya and I learned about PROPER discipline," Lyssa stated.
She turned to address the group at large, "Playtime is OVER. Katya and I are your Primas. If YOU wish to take a place among us; you will need to impress us MUCH more than you think you have. Get started."
The dance mistress slammed her cane once calling Lyssa and Katya to the center front where they stood in a ready position and gave them all a firm look.
"Indeed our Lyssa has returned to us. Do as you know how Primas," Olga said firmly then left the room.
Everyone knew they were in for a very hard time now. Quickly they returned to first positions and began over again. It would not take long for them to start feeling correction by the two Primas.
Mikhail looked over at Nikoli, "so where are we with the distribution of the drugs?"
"The ectasy is selling well in the clubs," he answered.
"What about our ballerina friend how are her sales," Mikhail asked.
"No sales. She hasn't picked up any merchandise," Nikoli stated.
Mikhail looked at him silently for several moments then asked, "Why has she not? Her little sister is quite the little addict and if she will entice the others of the school then we will have a very exclusive clientele."
"Yes, but yesterday when I was telling her that she protested so I reminded her that its we that make the decisions not her," Nikoli said.
"How did you remind her Nikoli," he asked.
"Just a little attention getter," he said then amended when Mikhail gave him a fixed look, "a slap is all."
Mikhail slammed his fist to the desktop,"IDIOT! you slap a ballerina around! She's not some casual girl we turn out for whore! Hands off or I will handle her myself and find....other things for you to do."
Nikoli knew what that meant, working the desk at a low end brothel if he was lucky.
"I'll check my temper boss," Nikoli apologized.
Mikhail watched him for a minute then waved him to leave.
Nikoli checked his watch and saw it was almost time she would be finishing at the school and drove over to wait. Half an hour later he saw people leaving, some walking not so easily as they had been. Ekaterina gingerly walked out. Nikoli and his partner got out of the car and walked over to her.
He noted tears but hardened his expression and voice,"Katerina."
They both saw her wince as she stepped with her left foot.
"Looks like our little Kat has had a rough day, eh Dmitri," Nikoli chuckled.
"Please just go away I can not do this right now," she sniffed trying not to cry.
"She thinks to just leave forgetting business Nikoli," Dmitri smirked.
The big street enforcer grabbed her arm and pulled,chuckling malevolently. Ekaterina tried not to screech in pain from her sore feet.
"Please. Just let me go. I want to go home Nikoli," she begged as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
They both laughed at her protest. Dmitri didn't see the boot as it slammed into the side of his face. Nikoli spun to look but not fast enough as a follow through kick slammed into his face forcing him to the ground. He shook his head to clear the stars and looked up to see a tall blonde dressed in a black dance dress and pink tights with knee high black boots looking down at them both, a look of cold rage burned in her grey eyes.
"Before I start stomping the both of you into street-scum to be washed down the sewer; do you have any last words," Lyssa said in almost a whisper.
"Bitch! do you have any idea who we are," Dmitri spouted then bellowed in pain.
Lyssa had stomped down hard on his wrist, breaking it. Nikoli watched him tuck his arm close and try to roll away in an attempt to protect it. Lyssa stomped down on his knee to a rending crack as it snapped making him scream.
Ekaterina tried to slink away but turned to face Katya who slowly shook her head, slowly she turned back around and watched as Lyssa turned to the downed Nikoli. Lyssa snapped a swift kick into his groin making him curl up squealing.
"Are you the fool that bruised MY ballerina," she asked coldly.
When he didn't answer she fixed Ekaterina with a glare, "is he?"
Ekaterina looked down and nodded silently.
Lyssa dropped down with her knee across his throat and slammed four punches full force to his eyes blackening them.
"You will stay away from ballerinas or I will make you regret living," She stood up and walked over to Ekaterina and pointed at a sports car, "Get in, it appears you DO need personal attention."
CHAPTER 3
Madison walked into the office and sat down. It was saturday and hopefully the Major would be staying home. She booted up her computer and immediately went through the message traffic then pulled up the list of Lyssa's phone numbers. Her number for Moscow was active so she pinged Rodrick's satphone and saw he was in the Bahamas at his airfield. Odd they weren't together. Madison checked Lyssa's designation code and found no tasking. It was early morning in Washington but evening in Moscow so she called her.
"Da, Lyssa's phone," a girl with a heavy russian accent answered.
"hello. May i speak to Lyssa my name is Madison," she said.
The girl said something in Russian and Madison just barely heard Lyssa answer also in Russian.
She translated to Madison," Lyssa asked wait please. She is helping my understudy. We made her feet hurt today, I am Katya."
Madison replied warmly,"hello Katya. Lyssa told me about you, you both studied together at Bolshoi."
"Da. Lyssa is best friend but Ekaterina probably thinks not right now. We make her work hard today," Katya explained, "Lyssa is here."
Lyssa's voice came through,"Hey Madi what's up?"
"I snuck in to see if I needed to do anything before monday and saw you were in Moscow. Anything I need to know," she asked.
"no, I'm just helping Katya with her understudy," Lyssa explained.
Madison heard another voice in the background sounding very unhappy and Katya saying something in answer. Lyssa said something as well and it didn't sound as nice as Katya.
Madison asked," Are you two playing Good Prima/Bad Prima?"
Lyssa laughed at that,"Nice one Madison and you're not far from the truth."
Madison signed off chuckling, that poor girl will never be the same after being on the receiving end of Lyssa's toughlove approach to training. Nothing else grabbed her attention so she shut down and collected her purse and jacket then left.
Lyssa filled an empty coke bottle with hot water and came back.
"Roll this back and forth with your foot until its not hot anymore," she instructed the whimpering Ekaterina.
The young dancer did as she was told when Katya nodded her approval. Slowly she rolled the bottle back and forth on the floor with her sore foot. Lyssa brought back another for her other foot. Soon the pain began to ease and Lyssa emptied them and refilled with ice water. Ekaterina felt more relief rolling the bottles back and forth then stood to walk around at Katya's order.
"They've never hurt so bad Prima Lyssa, I will not be able to dance tomorrow," she gave her a panicked look.
"You can and you will, ballerina; because you must,"Lyssa stated as if there were no such thing as pain.
"You must listen to Lyssa. Obey her Ekaterina and you will never fail," Katya said gently,"you will never fail because Prima Lyssa will never let you fail."
"Prima Lyssa; the Ghost Legend," Ekaterina whispered to Katya.
"She is that for so many reasons, and always she is my idol," Katya said back, "For Lyssa there is nothing too much she could ask of me."
"I will try hard Prima Katya," Ekaterina sniffled.
"Good. You will begin with why those two dared to handle our ballerina," Lyssa said flatly.
Ekaterina looked down at the floor.
"She is a Prima. You must tell her," Katya urged her.
Ekaterina looked from Katya's gentle blue eyes to Lyssa's steel grey ones.
the dancer slowly said, "My little sister. She found a club that would let her in. Someone gave her pills. She liked them. She won't stop taking them, I have no more money. Our parents have no more money. The men want me to to sell the pills to dancers. I haven't done it Prima Lyssa! They slapped me and now they are angry because you hurt them."
"Name for me this worm," Lyssa said coldly.
"Mikhail Gretnekova, please Prima Lyssa, he is bad. Dangerous, stay away from him," Ekaterina pleaded.
Lyssa nodded for Katya to follow her back to the study.
Once inside she asked, "You know anything about this guy?"
"I have heard a little. He is a drug person, girls for sale too," Katya said.
"Where do I find him," Lyssa asked.
Katya thought for a moment, "I don't know but we both know somebody who would, Peter Iylovich. remember him?"
"Ah yes. Our favorite guy for all things," Lyssa smirked then dug a small book out of her desk and flipped through it until she found the page she wanted and dialed the number from it.
"hello Peter," a female voice said, "It's Lyssa."
"Ah, lovely Lyssa. I hear you are engaged now; or are you looking to sell that fabulous ring I saw in the photos," he chuckled.
"I'd like a private meeting in please Peter," Lyssa said.
"Not a problem, new club just open......" Peter offered.
"Private meeting Peter. Just you and me,"Lyssa cut him off.
Peter got serious quickly, "Da. you want private, you get private. Meet me at Lenin's tomb in an hour."
The fixer frowned to himself. Lyssa Kordenay was back in town and was being quiet about it. The American Prima made Peter nervous; even more so if her arrival wasn't in the papers or on television. He tried to remember if he'd done anything to her the last time she was in town.
Lyssa disconnected and went to the bedroom and changed into black leggings, a dark purple blouse and her boots; slipping the Marauder into her right boot and one of her Jerichos into a holster clipped to the back of a wide belt then shrugged into a long black coat.
As she walked back through she said to Katya, "get her fed and into a bath Katya. Then she can go to sleep."
"Da Lyssa, be careful. I'm sure Peter has not changed recently," she called back.
"I got it covered," Lyssa replied closing the door.
Peter stood blowing cigarette smoke rings for several minutes just inside Gorky Park when a voice as cool as the air spoke behind him.
"Still have those bad habits Peter," Lyssa asked rhetorically.
"Still playing in shadows Lyssa," he countered then slowly turned around.
Though he stood outside the circle of light from a streetlamp Lyssa had again bested him and stepped from the deeper shadows.
The Russian fixer walked close and leaned back against a tree, "so what do you want Lyssa? you've never asked for a meeting this private before," he stated.
"Mikhail Gretnekova," she said flatly.
"oh my. You've not picked up a habit of your own have you," he asked with a smirk.
It faded immediately when the moon shone through to reveal her stoney expression.
"He has made you angry; nyet," Peter asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded slowly, making the Russian's blood freeze. Her anger was nothing to be taken lightly.
Peter thought for a moment then said, "Mikhail hangs out at Silk Kittens but he lives in a house just East of Gorky Park. He always has at least a couple of men with him until he goes to bed if he has a girl with him. He always has a girl with him, you can use your imagination about that. Three dogs are outside the house. Trained to kill but can not bark and he has the best security system on the market six months ago. what else?"
Lyssa reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a roll of bills and held them out to him.
Taking the money Peter asked, "Why do I get the feeling that if I mention this meeting to anybody I will not see the sunrise?"
Lyssa stepped back into the shadow, "You'd see it Peter. One last time."
Normally he'd chuckle at a comment like that from someone,but this was Lyssa. He'd even heard after her call that one of Mikhail's men had been taken to a hospital and wouldn't say how his arm and knee had been broken. Word on the street was that it had happened outisde Bolshoi.
Peter knew Dmitri was a serious fighter in the Sambo circles and had almost made it into Spetnatz but failed the mental tests. He enjoyed beating people and he didn't care who. Peter had seen Lyssa fight before. Quick and vicious, she took on men three times her size and had them screaming in less than a minute.
He didn't bother trying to see if she was still lurking, the breeze had shifted and he didn't smell her perfume anymore. A quick look at the roll and he was impressed with the money. Besides, he didn't like Gretnekova anyway.
Assholes like that came and went. People like Lyssa would always be around and it was best to best their good side; especially her. For some reason the night always seemed darker and colder when she was around.
CHAPTER 4
Mikhail locked the door and gave the girl standing in front of the bed a malevolent look that made her back up then fall back onto the bed. He slapped her back onto the bed then demanded she strip.
"Slow and sexy," he added with a harsh chuckle.
The girl stood up and started taking her clothes off as he said. She had just taken off her bra and was starting to push down her panties when he barely heard a soft click behind him.
"I did not call for anyone,"He snarled over his shoulder.
Something hard, cold and rounded pressed to the back of his head and he heard a loud click. The girl stopped and crossed her arms over her chest.
A cold sweet voice hissed from the shadow behind him, "How old are you girl?"
"Fifteen. Please don't hurt me. I promise I don't see you," she stammered fearfully.
"Leave. If you go straight home and never talk about being here I won't come after you child," the voice said.
The girl didn't answer; she just grabbed her clothes and ran from the room.
Mikhail sat very still as the shadow came around to stand infront of him in the dim light. A woman in black with streaks across her face stood aiming a pistol at his face.
He sneered at her, "go ahead, take my money or anything else in here. You won't make it out."
"Mikhail, tsk tsk. You really need to get with the program here. There is no one alive in the house that could try to stop me. Do you know who I am," she asked icily.
"You must be the ballerina. The one that took down Dmitri," he answered.
Lyssa nodded confirming it, "Yes. They call me the Ghost Legend. I am Lyssa."
They faced each other in silence for several moments until Mikhail said, "I'll be sure to remember you."
She thumbed back the hammer and said in a clear voice, "Past the gates and before the throne; I've been to Hell Mikhail. Where I send you; much worse."
The silenced autopistol coughed once, the bullet tore through his groin then two more trigger strokes sent more silenced rounds into his torso just inside his ribs. The blood that soaked out was almost black. Both bullets had ripped through his liver and lungs. Mikhail struggled to breathe then couldn't as his eyes swam in and out of focus.
Lyssa drew the Marauder and didn't wait for his eyes to glaze over. She set straight to work digging the modified hollowpoint bullets from his body as he shook violently trying to draw enough breath to scream. Lyssa lit a cigarette from his pack, tucked it into a book of matches and set it on the bed. She poured the high proof vodka down the corner of the bed and over to the wall then down the hallway and stairs. Silently as she had come, she walked out.
Katya looked to the door as Lyssa walked in, "I have been so worried, where have you been?"
"Out," Lyssa replied then walked straight over to the fireplace, tossed something into it and watched it burn.
"You have solved Ekaterina's problem haven't you," she asked as Lyssa hung up the coat then poured a glass of wine.
"She won't be bothered anymore Katya. Its late, go get some sleep," Lyssa said looking out the window as the first of snow began to fall.
"Lyssa, this is one of those things I'm not supposed to ask you about isn't it," Katya whispered.
When she didn't answer Katya said, "sometimes I am afraid and feel guilty. Guilty that you will go out to help us and afraid you will not come back. I heard what happened in London. A girl so afraid; she will not leave her house and another that will never walk, much less dance again. When I heard your name I was so frightened, but I saw you and was happy. I worry that someone's favor will be too much for you."
Lyssa sipped the wine then finally spoke, "you are the little sister I never had Katya. I will always come for you. You can worry less, Rodrick will always come for me. He was there when I needed him most. And as for the favors I do; one day we'll talk about that."
Katya hugged her.
"Go see to Katerina and get some sleep yourself. Tomorrow will be here soon," Lyssa said gently.
Katya nodded then walked quietly to check on her then into the other spare bedroom. Shortly after, she heard water running in Lyssa's bathroom but went to sleep.
Ekaterina finished her routines without any missteps. She had been working hard the past three days under Lyssa's unrelenting eyes with her right beside her dancing the part to ensure she understood it could be done.
The loud slamming of the dance mistress's cane three times caught her attention, she hurried to stand back and to the left of Lyssa in the same ready position.
"Well Prima Lyssa, is she ready to dance with the others now," the old woman asked sharply.
"Da Prima Olga! She has worked very hard to rejoin the cast; if she continues then she will be ready for christmas to perform as Clara," Lyssa answered.
The old woman nodded and Lyssa curtsied to her then moved to the side of the room and stood in the same ready position. Olga rapped her cane once to the floor. Ekaterina took that as a cue to begin and started her routines.
When she finally curtsied then rose to stand in the ready position.
After a few moments Olga looked to Lyssa and said, "another soon to be in your image. You are to be proud Prima Lyssa."
Lyssa stepped quickly over to stand beside Ekaterina and curtsied, "I have high hopes for this young one Prima Olga. I know she will not fail us."
Ekaterina tried hard not to show the smile at Lyssa's praise. First one then the rest of the cast began clapping for her at the doorway. Katya walked quickly over and curtsied to the dance mistress then to Lyssa and finally smiled to Ekaterina.
Katya firmly stated, "I know you will be stunning and flawless."
One of the young men led her back into the main studio to resume with them.
Three hours later they were released for the day. Ekaterina looked around then went to the changing room and glanced into the dance mistress' office then back into the main studio.
"Lyssa has gone ballerina,"Olga said.
She looked puzzled, "gone? But I have more rehearsals to do. She didn't say goodbye."
"Lyssa's task is complete,"Olga explained, "just as with she did with Katya and Marissa; Lyssa has shown you what could be done so that you would learn to believe in yourself. A dancer in trouble saved; you now owe her favor. Nyet?"
Ekaterina thought about it for a moment then nodded, "Da Prima Olga, I understand now. Yes, you are right, I have a debt. Anything Prima Lyssa asks will be hers."
The old dance mistress rapped her cane once, then turned back to her office.
Ekaterina knew she was dismissed and changed into her boots and left for home.
"Prima Lyssa. The Ghost Legend. I will never fail; because she will not LET me," Ekaterina said then smiled.
The young dancer now knew she was part of an elite sorority. Not only schooled by the imposing Prima, but also in her favor. Lyssa's favors; they too, were part of her legend.
Rodrick heard the front door open and checked his phone, no messages.
The sound of high heels in Lyssa's usual walking style made him smile as he turned on the lamp.
"Coulda called darlin'. I would've picked you up," He said as she walked into the bedroom.
"Its fine baby, go back to sleep. I'm going to rinse off real quick and join you,"Lyssa replied.
Rodrick sat up and waited while she did that then welcomed her into their bed when she walked out and slid in beside him. He switched off the light and held her close.
"Tell me you talked to that reverend about the church," Lyssa mumbled.
Rodrick chuckled,"Go to sleep my beautiful ballerina. we'll talk in the morning."
Lyssa playfully nipped his shoulder getting an 'ouch' from him and a quick swat on her butt then settled in and after a few minutes fell asleep.
Book 21 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Dannigan finds somebody interesting Other people have their own plans though. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers. |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan sat reading a file. The list of skills weren't bad. eleven years in service; raw intelligence analysis, battlefield deception, some cryptography, electronic counter-warfare, field forensics, small arms. Languages were French, Russian, Spanish and German. Stationed at Ft. Benning, Ga. and currently under MPI investigation for conduct unbecoming with sub heading; suspected deviant sexual behavior. noted were the locations of two bars in Atlanta.
A quick social network search turned up that both were LGBT clubs; Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual and Transgender. One even boasted to featuring the best DRAG revue in the south. Dannigan was reading between the report's lines.
Nobody really cared about gay or lesbian anymore. 'Suspected deviant sexual behavior' had been the terminology used to describe transgenders that had had been outed quietly. Most often they believed themselves safely closeted.
In short somebody doing something just as bad or worse blew the whistle if not out of professional jealousy, the reason why wasn't relevant. What happened next was.
Dannigan checked flights and cut orders for a hop to Atlanta. It was the weekend so it would be a strong chance of seeing the lieutenant out and about socially. Dannigan grabbed his go-bag and headed for the door.
Five hours later he walked through the door. He paid the cover charge and strolled inside. Many of the tables were occupied but he found a vacant one easily and sat down. He had a better view of the crowd than the stage which was ok, he wasn't there for the actual show.
A drag waitress came by, "What can I get you Handsome?"
"A bourbon on the rocks would be nice," Dannigan answered and dropped a twenty on the tray.
The waitress smiled and returned a couple of minutes later and placed a napkin on the table then set the drink on it along with his change.
Dannigan set the ten bill back on the tray, "big night tonight?"
She smiled big and answered, "Sure is Handsome! One of the performers was a big-time Las Vegas showgirl."
"Well then! I came to the right place for entertainment it seems," He remarked.
"Well of course you did, now what else can I do for you," She asked with a brighter smile.
He patted his pockets absently then frowned, "hmmm I had a cigar. I guess I left it behind, would there happen to be any for sale?"
"Sure thing. The bartender also works at a tobacconist. I'll see what he recommends," The waitress exaggerated the swing of hips walking back to the bar and returned, "He recommends this one. Its a North Carolina blend with a deep maple flavor and sized perfect for a gentleman such as yourself."
Dannigan ran the cigar under his nose and gave a nod of appreciation then handed it back along with another twenty bill. The waitress clipped the end, cut a plug in the center then handed it back. She struck a match to light it for him.
He drew in the smoke then let it out slowly, "I dare say the service here is exemplary, thank you."
"If you need anything; Karen is the name," she said then went over to take another table's order.
He slowly scanned the crowd and wanted to groan. Dannigan easily spotted a man with two women watching the door from across the room. Even though he sported a modified regulation haircut, he forgot to leave his 'I'm a military bad ass' attitude back
on base.
The two female MPs he was sitting with were doing better at not drawing attention even though they all stood out with the single bottles of water each and no interaction among themselves or other people. Not to mention the jeans and t-shirts. Most of the other patrons wore club wear or business attire. Nah; they didn't stand out. As inconspicuous as cub scouts in cat-house.
He had no idea why they called themselves investigators when the man set a small camera on the table top and pressed the top. Dannigan himself then allowed his gaze to meander to the other side of the room and saw who they were waiting for; the same person he was.
The lieutenant wore a modest cut blue dress and long strawberry blonde wig. Her date looked to him like either a professional fitness trainer or amateur bodybuilder. They took a table between his and the stage which was perfect for him, he could see everybody and still look like he was watching the show starting in ten minutes.
Twenty minutes into the show he asked Karen to hold his table for him, with the help of a twenty dollar tip, and slipped outside. It only took him two minutes to find the government car and another minute to flatten two tires. The spook then went back inside.
He mentioned to the waitress he needed the restroom and dropped a tracking dot into the lieutenant's open purse passing by then returned to his table a couple of minutes later. A drink refill request with another tip kept the waitress Karen accommodating. He also sent moderate tips to the performers via the waitresses then slipped Karen a twenty again, with compliment of service on his way out as the final performer took their bow.
Kim glanced around for the fifth time but nothing really stood out. Only her date Brendan knew she was in the Army that she knew of. The Army didn't like to send women into gay bars to investigate because they tended to be more sympathetic. Something felt off all night though, like she was being watched but couldn't see by whom.
The show was over so she told him she was ready to leave. They had a late dinner at an all night diner then he dropped her off at the apartment she secretly kept in Atlanta. She stood on the balcony. The air had cooled but it wasn't cold yet. Her cellphone rang and she saw a text message,
You and I should talk. The park is nice. No need to change Lieutenant, you're suitable as is.
Somebody knew.
With the feel of impending doom Kim picked up her purse and went downstairs to the small park across the street. A lone man in a dark suit stood looking at the fountain. she stepped up but said nothing.
"Penny for your thoughts Lieutenant," the man asked then tossed one in.
"Just two. who are you and what do you want,"Kim replied.
"Somebody that knows your career is just about over. It is Kim, isn't it," he asked.
"MPI? CID,"She asked.
"Does it matter," he commented.
"yeah, it does," she answered.
"Neither. I'm somebody that knows you have the code clearances: Arctic Blue and Iron Horse. You spent a week last year hanging out with Admiral Barstow's SweatHogs," He replied.
She was impressed, no check that. She was stunned. This guy had to be high level DOD to know all that. It wasn't even listed as a TDY assignment and as for the Iron Horse clearance, not even her DD 208 file supplemental mentioned she had it.
"So what do you want," Kim asked.
"You didn't see the three MPI investigators in the club tonight," he said flatly, "they took pictures of you Kimberly. I'm sure its not the first time; not that it matters. First time, last time. They took pictures to finalize the investigation. I'd say you have at the most a month left then you'll be called in for review and be given the choice; resign your commission for personal reasons or court-martial for conduct unbecoming: deviant sexual behavior."
Kim sat down on the edge of the fountain and buried her face in her hands.
"The world is not over Kimberly. Life goes on; if you want it to," Dannigan said then passed a card to her and left.
Silently she looked at the card. No name or affiliation, just a number.
CHAPTER 2
Lyssa stood on the deck drinking juice looking out at the waves coming in, a slow Monday morning. Rodrick was on a vid conference on the computer after their daily triathlon which he won for a change. Lyssa would be getting a video soon for the production of the Nutcracker in Washington.
Rodrick and his guys were gearing down for the winter. Not too many chartered around the Caribbean. They either flew commercially or had their own transport.
Normally he'd be settling in at the hangar for the holidays and she'd be making her way to wherever she'd be dancing for christmas. Last year had been London and the previous had been Moscow.
This year was different; they'd both be staying on Grand Cayman until the first of December then go to her main house to be close to Washington for the production but be back in time for new year's eve. It felt strangely good to be in one place for a long time.
Rodrick was changing though, he'd already worked on her car and yesterday she'd seen him inspecting the fence. if Dannigan were here he'd comment that Rodrick was becoming domesticated. She felt the vibration of Rodrick's footsteps across the deck and when he slid his hands onto her hips she leaned back against him.
"Well, service is pretty much shut down for the approaching holidays. The Gulfstream, Lear, C-130, Renegade and Bell helo will stay ready though just in case," he said.
"Pete looking forward to spending the holidays with his future in-laws," Lyssa asked.
"They broke up last night," Rodrick remarked.
"No way! what happened," She exclaimed looking back.
Rodrick grimaced,"well;she kinda spouted off. And your name came up. Apparently she thinks that she should have exclusive designer clothes, shoes and huge house on Nassau."
Lyssa rolled her eyes, "fucking hell. That idiotic airhead."
He shook his head then finished, "gets worse. An engagement ring worth thirty grand."
"Dear god, what the hell is wrong with her," Lyssa groaned.
Rodrick turned her around and looked at her squarely, "you still don't get it do you? She's jealous of you. She thinks I pretty much buy you anything and everything too. Pete's tried to explain how independent you really are but she won't listen and last night they really had it out in the middle of a restaurant. she left in the middle of the night to go home alone."
"oh no, what about Pete," Lyssa asked.
Rodrick shrugged, "He's moved in to the apartment at the hangar. All my things are practically here anyway."
The ringing of Lyssa's phone interrupted the conversation. Rodrick held onto her as she walked inside laughing then threw himself into a chair bringing her onto his lap with a light squeal.
"hello," she answered giggling.
"did I interrupt you two," Dannigan asked.
Lyssa laughed, "Not this time Major."
Upon hearing that Rodrick spoke loudly, "How the hell are we supposed to do anything much less each other when you call at any given hour Paul?"
Dannigan laughed and retorted, "get married and I might show some consideration."
"HEY; we're working on that,"Lyssa commented hotly.
"Speaking of working; aren't you dancing here in Washington for christmas," Dannigan asked.
"Yes, Madison should be quite excited unless she goes home for the holidays,"she replied.
Dannigan said, "Oh she already made plans for a christmas eve flight so she could see the show if you're in it."
"Box seats for three then," Lyssa remarked.
"might need to make it four," Dannigan told her.
Lyssa gasped, "you gonna have a date?"
Rodrick got up to answer the door after hearing the bell ring.
"what's up Major? you didn't call to tease us and pass the time of day," Lyssa asked.
Dannigan paused then said,"True, I didn't. I found somebody that I'd like you to meet but not right now. give a couple of weeks."
Lyssa went quiet for minute then asked, "are you recruiting?"
"maybe. too soon to tell," he answered.
"Something go south in a bad way," she demanded quietly.
"Not like what happened to you but there are, points of common interest," Dannigan said.
"Does Paul need you on a plane baby," Rodrick asked her, to which she shook her head. He held up a slim package indicating it was for her.
she nodded and took it.
"so what you're saying is; be prepared to make a social visit," Lyssa presumed.
"something like that," Dannigan said then disconnected.
"Morning Sir," The young soldier stood and saluted as Keith walked into the JAG offices.
"morning specialist, is Colonel Sanson in yet," he asked.
"I'll check Sir," the specialist said and walk back to the offices.
a moment later she returned, "The colonel has a few minutes, third door on the left sir."
Keith nodded and walked back to the open door and was waved in. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Been awhile Lieutenant Thompson, what's on your mind," the colonel asked.
"I'd like to speak off the record Colonel," Keith said.
The colonel fixed him with a stare, "ok; off the record. sit down Lieutenant."
"Sir I'm going to ask a direct question and I want a direct answer; am I under investigation," he asked bluntly.
The colonel had been leaning back in his chair but now leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, "Thompson you know I wouldn't be able to confirm or deny that."
"with all DUE respect Colonel, don't sprinkle sugar on that shit and call it candy. if it weren't for me you'd never slammed the door on that captain ripping off the ammunition supply last year and I can prove that. Because of me you got those eagles on your collar. I can make them go away even faster," Keith said.
"You'd need video with audio to do that Thompson, don't fuck with me," Sanson smirked.
"I have it, now spill it or you'll live in the shitbird tree til hell freezes over," He snarled back.
The colonel no longer looked smug, "fuck. You'd do it too just for effect. Alright Thompson; the answer is yes. And before you even think about asking, no i can't make it go away."
Keith looked at him furiously,"I want the file. Who brought the investigation and why."
"you can get nuke codes faster, don't be a dumbass. MPI is stand alone and you know it. Look, you're under investigation for conduct unbecoming that's all I know," Sanson explained.
"Sonofabitch," Thompson snarled.
"Look Thompson, you're done from what they're saying. its airtight and nobody can stop it," Sanson said.
"Damn you," Thompson snarled again.
"Look I just fucking found out twenty minutes ago! Nothing came through this office at all until this morning. There's nothing that can
be done," Sanson explained, "They filed the charges this morning. Its now officially in motion. I'm sorry Thompson, you did me a favor and I would help but I can't. Its beyond me. Hell they won't even show me the file."
Thompson all but ripped the door open and left.
Madison sent the message from her terminal to Dannigan's then walked in,"Major...."
"Yes Madison I see it. They moved faster than I thought they would," Dannigan remarked.
"Its almost like a witch hunt Sir," Madison commented.
Dannigan looked at her, "like? No Madison. That is exactly what it is. Somebody has a serious mad-on for Lieutenant Thompson and wants him gone. The way this is going it means one of two things; pay off or payback."
"but who and why Major," Madison asked.
"I think I'll find out," Dannigan said and started pulling up programs.
It took six hours to sift through quietly to find what he was looking for but came up short. A tip off via burnphone. He kept digging until he found the number.
a burn phone that had a Columbus, Georgia number. the phone had been purchased at a national chain convenience store. By Five pm he was watching the video of the store's security camera footage. He hit pay dirt; within the time frame of the phone purchase. a man wearing civilian clothes with a ball cap and shades made the purchase. He switched to the exterior camera and forwarded to the time and watched as the man got into the passenger seat of a truck.
a quick run of the plate number revealed the owner to be a member of the same battalion as Thompson. He pulled up the still of the purchaser and ran recognition against all members of the battalion. Within moments he got a hit. a review of the soldier's record brought the puzzle together.
Reprimanded three times by Thompson for dereliction of duty and once for endangering personnel. Dannigan read the reports.
The guy came from upper middle class, played football but not good enough for a scholarship or to be scouted by a professional team. Parents were strictly religious though all indications were that he wasn't. Everything was spelled out in big letters.
Thompson had legitimate right to action against Benton, but Benton was being an ass about it. School records revealed barely mediocre grades, numerous write ups for class disruption, especially fights. Benton was a bully, but couldn't bully Thompson. so found a way to get rid of, rather than intimidate. this was all about revenge. Dannigan compiled the data onto a disc. Now to wait.
CHAPTER 3
two days after the call, Lyssa moved from room to room securing the house. Rodrick checked the outside then loaded the luggage into her car. Lyssa finally came out to join him.
"So why are we leaving early," Rodrick asked settling in to drive.
"I have this strong feeling that we need to be close to Washington," Lyssa answered.
"Ok. If you think that's where we should be then we'll go, never led us wrong before," Rodrick agreed.
He drove them from the house to the airport's private hangars and parked inside one. Half an hour later they were flying north and landed that evening at the private airfield outside Washington.
In short time they had picked up her car from storage and drove to her house on the beach. Lyssa switched her phone over to the local number.
"why do I get the feeling that our mornings aren't going to change even though we both know that water is colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa laughed, "Because you know I'm not about to give you a minute of peace."
Rodrick gave an exaggarated groan as they parked in front of the front porch.
Lyssa hurried in and deactivated the systems then came back out to help Rodrick with the luggage and groceries.
"Answer me a serious question, "Rodrick said.
Lyssa was checking her messages, "Sure."
"what does that second system do," he asked.
Lyssa answered casually, "sixteen claymores and four containers of white phosphorous."
Rodrick sloshed some of the whiskey he was pouring and looked at her to see if she grinned. she didn't. Translation- she wasn't kidding! The house was a death trap to any who would be dumb enough to break in.
Rodrick turned on the tv while she was answering messages, "Hey! Monday Night Football!"
She chuckled at that then logged out of the website and went to start dinner.
They wagered a massage on the outcome of the game, which she won without even watching, opting to enjoy a bubble bath after watching the video of choreography for the ballet.
Keith Thompson couldn't believe it, who the hell could be ringing his doorbell at one in the morning.
Opening the door revealed the stranger from the park, "Well well...if it isn't Mr.Know-it-all. Its been a week now."
Dannigan walked in and immediately over to the central light fixture and pulled the bug from it then walked backwards to an air vent and yanked it open, pulling a video camera from it. Keith swore loudly.
Dannigan waited until he paused and simply handed a disc, "Today is the day they make their move. You don't have a snowball's chance in hell Lieutenant."
"Let me guess; you have a way to stop it. For a price," Keith said sarcastically.
"I'm not here to blow smoke up your ass Lieutenent. You're done in the Army and it came from within your own unit, seems they been compiling the 'evidence' for months and started logging it this past week. that's how I found out," Dannigan explained.
Keith sat down looking at the floor,"What can I do about this?"
Dannigan sighed, "I mentioned before; Life goes on. If you want it to. You may not be able to keep what you have but its possible to do better but its up to you Lieutenant. Today is the last day of your service in the Army whether you like it or not. Personally I hate to see a person as valuable as yourself go to waste. You know how to reach me if you change your mind; Kimberly. If it was me, I'd slam the whole lot on my way out."
Dannigan turned and left closing the door behind him and leaving the disconnected electronics in a box. Keith picked up his phone and made a call.
"Hey. You still have all that stuff from when you worked for that private investigator," Keith asked, "I'd like to borrow some of it and get your help tomorrow morning."
During the morning's PT formation Keith was called aside and told to skip PT and report to the JAG office in dress uniform at nine am. At the appointed time the doors opened and the MP walked inside with him then gestured to a table and chair. at the opposite table sat Colonel Sanson and three men he didn't know but all wore the shoulder patch of MPI. Five Generals sat behind
a bar desk on a raised platform.
"Be seated Lieutenant, we'll begin," the general seated center announced.
"I see no defending counsel General," Thompson pointed out.
The General ignored the protest, "You may present your evidence."
The MPI captain stepped forward and presented a file," Lieutenant Thompson was observed on multiple occasions frequenting social establishments in Atlanta catering to gay/lesbian/ transgender people in attire inappropriate to an officer of his gender; conducting himself in behavior also inappropriate to an officer of his gender, as well as forays of shopping in said manner to sustain such conduct. At this time such activities constitute the charges: Conduct Unbecoming of an officer; Deviant Sexual Behavior, Misrepresentation by an Officer and Gross Insubordination by an Officer. Grounds for discharge by Court Martial."
Keith surged forth, snatched the file and shuffled through the photos and found what he was looking for and held it up, "This was taken in my civilian apartment from inside! where's the civilian warrant Captain?"
The General in the center bellowed, "LIEUTENANT! You will return to your seat IMMEDIATELY!"
Keith reached behind his back and drew his personal pistol and thumbed back the hammer and pressed the muzzle to the groin of the Captain.
"Fuck off. You forgot to get a warrant from a civilian judge, shit for brains. Somebody thinks they have balls that clank it seems. I have no problem fixing that," he said coldly.
"HOW DARE YOU BRING A WEAPON INTO A HEARING," another General demanded.
"Hearing? What hearing? this is a bullshit kangaroo fuck-up in direct violation of military law that will not be recognized as official in any way. I'll have the name of the criminal son of bitch who authorized this illegal operation now, as well as the instigator of it or I'll pull the trigger Captain ClusterFuck and you won't have to worry about having those balls anymore," Keith replied coldly.
The General seated at the end answered, "I authorized it! We have enough problems with the fags and dikes as it is but I won't allow drag queens to prance around pretending to be worthy of a commission! I received the tip from private Benton whom you've harassed."
"Private Benton who has been official reported as derelict in duty by the Company Commander and for endangering troops by a Brigade Commander that I was under orders to document? I know he has a personal ax to grind because he's stupid and unfit for the uniform, but you have no excuse and are unworthy of those stars," Keith pointed out.
Keith smiled and showed the empty magazine well of the pistol, walked back to the table and lifted his class-A cap to reveal a video camera.
Keith picked up both, "This'll be on all the news networks by the end of the day. Its being uploaded to the internet now by a friend. Every single one your careers are over. You assholes may have killed my career but I'm taking each and every single one of you with me. I already resigned my commission; I refuse to serve with the same traitorous fascists I'm sworn to defend this nation against. I'm going to take those stars away you bastard."
Keith strode from the room as an argument ensued about why hadn't he been searched for weapons and recording devices and how to stop the news networks from running the story. He'd already removed all personal effects from his office during PT. Before reporting to JAG he went to the Division Headquarters and dropped off the time sensitive marked packet containing his resignation at the duty officer and received the confirmation of receipt.
He passed by the battalion and saw the private standing in front, laughing and making gestures in a group of other soldiers. Keith parked and slipped up close to them.
"Benton," Keith said from behind him.
The arrogant enlisted turned laughing, "what?"
Keith punched him squarely in the face then kicked him in the groin.
"I knew you were a no-balls pussy loser but you took scum to a new level," Keith snarled then grabbed him by the head and rammed his knee to the man's forehead.
Satisfied, Keith then left post via the main gate.
"HOLYYYYYYY FUUUUUCK! LYSSAAAAAA! YOU NEED TO SEE THIS," Rodrick called from the living room.
Lyssa walked from the studio into the living room and looked to the tv. the lead story of the evening news was the fiasco of an attempted court martial of an army officer for being transgender. Seemed there had been unlawful breaking and entering of a civilian residence to gather inadmissible evidence and no defending counsel as well as various other things including one general going on record using gay-bashing slurs.
The Pentagon was refusing to comment; which was really shooting themselves in the foot.
Rodrick looked to Lyssa, "You don't suppose this has anything to do with Paul wanting us to be stateside do you?"
Lyssa didn't even get a chance to answer as her phone rang.
She answered it on the second ring,"Hello. yeah we saw. ok, I'll get cleaned up and changed."
She disconnected and turned to Rodrick.
"That was Paul,"he stated.
"Yeah, he wants me at the office and you to go to Atlanta, Georgia to pick up that lieutenant and himself to fly back here," Lyssa replied.
Lyssa unlaced her pointe shoes and went to the bedroom to return wearing a pair of black heels and carrying her purse. Rodrick pulled on a pair of snake skin western boots, grabbed his satphone and keys. before they even pulled out onto the road he'd called the airfield and had them start getting his plane ready. Lyssa dropped him off and watched him take off then returned to the house to shower and change.
CHAPTER 4
Keith looked out the window after the pilot's announcement,"We're on final approach now, buckle up back there."
After landing and getting out, a tired looking well dressed woman greeted and directed them to a silver SUV. Keith thought to himself that she must be the pilot's girlfriend seeing them hug and he got into the passenger seat as the man who referred to himself as Major Dannigan settled in the back.
Curiously she didn't join them at the building they were dropped off at but the pilot led the way inside.
"You said things could be better if I wanted it," Keith said,"What did you mean by that?"
"well Lieutenant you can't serve in the military and no other intelligence service will go anywhere near you, but instead of taking your life back per se, what about taking on the life you want, with some concessions," Dannigan stated.
"Concessions? what concessions," Keith asked confused.
"I'd say its fairly safe to assume that you want to leave behind your male life and pursue the life of a woman. Wouldn't you," Dannigan asked as the elevator chimed and opened letting them out.
"yeah, I would. Not that it would matter now, all hopes for a career of any kind are done for thanks to the Army not to mention my stunt with the video," Keith answered.
Rodrick said casually, "what if somebody that had it worse than you had done exactly that; claim a new life and become not only become a great person but have three solid careers at the same time with nobody the wiser?"
Keith stopped in front of a set of double doors and looked at him," Yeah right. Like that could really be possible."
Dannigan gestured to the doors. Keith opened one and walked in, it was closed behind him leaving him alone. A blonde woman turned from looking out the window and walked forward.
"Hello Lieutenant. I understand you doubt the possibility of a successful life after such a disaster. I'll be happy to prove you wrong, I'm Lyssa Kordenay," Lyssa smiled.
Madison returned with a pizza box and passed it to Rodrick and fussed at him,"hey now....no butts on MY desk."
Rodrick chuckled and stood up then looked at Dannigan, "hey pay the lady, its your fault i missed out on dinner at home with my fiance."
Dannigan laughed as well and passed the money to Madison.
"What do you think Major," Madison asked.
"taking things alot better than Lyssa did. I find it strange though," Dannigan answered between bites of pizza.
Rodrick asked,"how so paul?"
Dannigan chewed for a minute then washed down the pizza with some coffee," Well you have to remember that Lyssa got the rawest deal ever. sold out, captured on mission, tortured for a week and then tossed aside because of that."
Madison gasped, "Dear god, that's why she was always so angry? I never understood."
Dannigan wiped his mouth with a napkin and explained," Now you know why Lyssa had a mad-on for Ramon Padosa; it was his cartel."
Madison thought for a minute then said softly," Congressman Alkowitz."
Dannigan and Rodrick both nodded.
"Lyssa got her revenge but it took years to get there," Dannigan reminded her.
She remembered the incident and said nothing.
Rodrick took over then, "Lyssa went from one of the top operators in the U.S. military to nothing in a matter of days and the shell shock from her capture was still working her over hour by hour plus the fact that the Army wasn't dealing with her at all. She was done. They'd pretty much wrote her off for dead when the mission went FUBAR. The only reason they rescued her to prevent the hemorrhaging of information. Rescue if possible; liquidate if necessary were the orders."
Madison looked shocked,"that's horrible!"
"That's the world of Black Ops Madison. We volunteered for it and know the stakes. Dying on mission isn't a problem for any of us. The problem comes not from the enemy getting lucky but rather our friends betraying us to them," Rodrick explained," That's why Lyssa kept taking missions, she believes its the right thing to do and she can do it. Better than anybody else, proved that too."
Lyssa stood silently waiting the initial shock to pass from Keith Thompson.
Finally Keith sputtered, "You? The Lyssa Kordenay? The model; the ballerina. I don't understand."
"I was once in the Army. Special Operational Detachment Delta team: DemonWraiths," she said.
The shock was replaced with confusion, "The DemonWraiths are only a rumor. Hell Deltas are all men still. How could you be one? oh. OH! No way!"
"That was a lifetime ago,"Lyssa smiled, "this is what was underneath. This is the real me."
"How," Keith asked.
"It took time, almost three years to change and train. Then another to establish myself internationally. I went operational again during that time and haven't quit, even found time to enjoy life. Found love too," she explained.
"That's unbelievable," Keith said in awe.
Lyssa stepped closer, "I may be the only one of my kind, but will someone named Kimberly be following close to my footsteps?"
Keith asked, "How do we get started?"
"Give Madison all of your keys and the addresses and phones," Lyssa instructed, "I won't lie to you. This process will hurt. I didn't do a normal transition and neither will you. This is excellerated. Because of your current appearance, you'll feminize faster than I did. By christmas you'll pretty much be done. except for final surgery. I will say that you'll have it easier and faster than I did."
"Lyssa this is fucking october the first," Keith stated.
Lyssa didn't blink. Keith now understood, apparently some project ended up having unforeseen side-effects that could be exploited for this purpose.
Lyssa explained," you'll be smuggled down to the Caribbean until its time for final surgery. You'll be on an island but not alone, somebody else will be there to kinda keep you company and safe. but first you'll get a series of injections and also a facial surgery. There's a house in Georgetown that you'll stay at while things are in motion, but know this; only the people from this office can know the whole truth. There will be no more contact with anybody, ever. Do you agree? Keith? or Kimberly? Take time and think about it."
Lyssa walked over to the doors and stepped out.
Dannigan watched as Lyssa sat on Rodrick's lap and stole his slice of pizza.
Madison giggled," What's her's is her's and what your's is her's. Get used to it"
Rodrick protested, "hey that ain't no where near being right."
Lyssa and Madison laughed.
"It may be two on two here but I feel outnumbered Rod," Dannigan chuckled.
Madison looked to Lyssa, "what do you think Lyssa?"
Lyssa dabbed around her lips with a napkin, "never assume."
Madison nodded at that, it was a phrase used often. She understood its meaning; just when you think its all figured out you suddenly realize you got it all wrong. the lesson: don't leave to chance, go with certainty. Lyssa was proof of that and was damn lucky to be alive to impart that knowledge. The moral of her story is; If somebody isn't going along on the mission then they don't need to know about it.
Dannigan looked to the doors as they opened and Keith walked out.
He looked to Dannigan and said,"I want in Major."
Lyssa looked at Keith intently for a moment then nodded to Dannigan.
"You're in," Dannigan stated then looked to Madison, "Take the Lieutenant over to the apartment in Georgetown and you can have the day off if you drop off some supplies by noon."
"I can do that," Madison answered then picked up her purse.
"See you later," Keith asked.
"yeah, you'll see me later on but not today. Do us a favor though, stay indoors while here, the backyard is private though; Kimberly Susan Moore," Lyssa said.
Keith smiled and nodded then followed Madison out, picking up the small carry-on bag.
Dannigan waited until after the elevator door had closed and looked over to Lyssa and Rodrick, "Project Chrysalis has restarted."
Lyssa said,"I'll work up a program and list of supplies."
"I'll have Eddie, my mechanic, get that spare trailer set up next to the hangar," Rodrick added.
"Sounds good, stop in tomorrow afternoon," Dannigan concluded.
Lyssa stood up as did Rodrick. They held hands heading for the elevator even though Rodrick snagged another slice of pizza making Dannigan chuckle.
Book 22 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
An understudy of Lyssa is in Chicago but something terrifying is there too! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Marissa watched as the sheet was pulled back and gasped in horror at the face revealed. Her younger sister had dark marks around her neck, a bruise on her cheek. He pulled the sheet back up but not before revealing several marks on her chest. She couldn't help it and pulled the sheet further down and saw them. Cuts. Slits. Holes.
"Miss. Please.....that's not going to help," another man gently moved the sheet back up to cover the dead girl.
Marissa sobbed, "its her. its Jeanie.....Janine."
The Coroner started to slide the platform back.
Marissa grabbed at it, "Please don't! Jeanie's afraid of the dark!"
She looked back to the detective,"Please don't put her in there!"
The Detective gently steered her to the door and walked her out, "There's some things to take care of Ms. Addams."
The ballerina from Hawaii cried trying to focus her eyes on the sheets of paper being handed to her to fill out and sign. After the final form was signed a brown envelope was handed to her along with a slip of paper. As Marissa walked out cameras flashed and lights came on.
someone thrust a microphone at her, "Marissa! Marissa! How do you feel about your sister being raped and murdered by the Satin Slasher?"
Other microphones and recorders began pushing to get a response. People began shoving and pushing to get closer. Someone surged forward, slamming Marissa in the face, holding a microphone. An officer grabbed them and promptly started reading them Miranda rights.
"You can't arrest me! I have First Amendment rights," the reporter protested.
The officer stated, "You're being arrested for assault dip-shit, you just punched a woman in the face in public, multiple witnesses and cameras to confirm that. Oh and you can quote me on that asshole. Anybody else want a night on the City?"
The crowd began to ease back giving Marissa room as she held her hand over her eye and hurried to her car and sped away. She got to the hotel and rushed inside. Marissa rode the elevator up then ran down the hall and fumbled to unlock the door. Inside she fell back against the closed the door and broke down, all but screaming.
Lyssa looked up when she heard the newscaster open with the name Marissa Addams. She listened closely to the rest of the news report but had missed the bulk of it. Lyssa got up from the couch and hurried to her laptop. Easily she pulled up breaking news feeds using Marissa's name and read the story.
Lyssa wasted no time, rushing to the bedroom and grabbed clothes and threw them into her suitcase. Chicago was one of the few places she didn't have a house. After a minute of debate she called the airport and made a first class reservation on a direct flight to chicago. A second call to Madison to meet her at the office to pick her up and take to the airport. She passed off her car keys as well for Rodrick in case he came back from the Bahamas before she returned.
She checked her suitcase through and kept the carry-on case with her. It took twenty minutes to get through security then board the plane. The flight wasn't very long but she managed a nap easily and hit the ground in chicago running after sunset.
Lyssa rented a car then made a call to Madison who had traced Marissa's credit card to the James Hotel, a boutique hotel favored by the arts and entertainment crowd looking to be low-key.
Madison's search also got Lyssa the room number as well. Lyssa registered there as well but took the penthouse, she dropped off her luggage and went down to Marissa's room.
She knocked gently then again and called out,"Marissa. Marissa. Its me Lyssa, open up."
the door yanked open and the brunette bolted out crying, "Lyssa! I'm so glad you're here!"
Lyssa guided her friend back into the room and sat her down.
"Its not chance you're here. You came for me. Didn't you,"Marissa sniffed.
Lyssa nodded, "Tell me everything. including how you got that shiner."
Marissa covered her eye unconsciously then slowly started telling her everything.
"Lyssa you already knew Jeanie was here. She had only a month left at the university before she was going to Moscow to study under Olga at Bolshoi. Someone; no. Some monster took her Lyssa! She was raped. That. That disgusting, vile, inhuman MONSTER! Took my baby sister, raped her, and then cut up her body. Oh god Lyssa; there were bruises and knife marks all over her! I hate whoever did this Lyssa! I want them to hurt so much more than they ever did to Jeanie! Lyssa, I ask favor of the Ghost Legend; take me and Jeanie home," Marissa begged her mentor as she sobbed.
Lyssa hugged the young woman who once was her understudy, now a Prima herself, and nodded, "I can not grant favor in this. I will take you two home, there will be no debt. You will owe me no favor and no thanks for this."
Lyssa went down the hall and brought back some ice in a small bag which she wrapped in a towel and put over Marissa's eye.
"Marissa, how many people know you are in this exact room," Lyssa asked.
"I gave the police my cell number," Marissa answered.
"Ok. Grab your things. Come with me," she replied.
They collected the luggage and went up to the penthouse. Lyssa had her check out via the night manager.
"Now you have some privacy Marissa. Its not known to the press I am here. It won't last long though," Lyssa said then ordered some hot chocolate.
She secretly sprinkled a small amount of a sedative powder into it then gave to Marissa. Once Marissa was asleep Lyssa called Dannigan.
"Its late Kordenay," the spook answered on the second ring.
Lyssa spoke in an icy voice, "I'm in Chicago. I want some things."
Dannigan was wide awake now, "oh shit! What's the story?"
"Some idiotic fuck of a serial killer slaughtered Marissa Addams little sister here. I need Kimberly to start doing what she knows how to do. I'm going hunting. Send me an armament load here at the hotel I'm at. The sick fuck belongs to me now," Lyssa said coldly.
Dannigan sighed, "Marissa studied under you, I remember her name. You'll get what can be had on intel. You're shipment will be there soon. Full residential package."
It was understood what such a package contained. Several of her Jericho pistols, CAR-15s, Colt 10mm pistols for Rodrick, Heckler and Koch MP-7s, grenades (frag, concussion, incendiary, flashbangs, smoke and tear-gas), additional knives, claymores, plastic explosives, Det-Cord, Det-sheet, blasting caps, detonators, magazines and rounds. The exact same load out she had at each of her houses. The package would arrive as two large hard suitcases by special courier.
Lyssa disconnected and stared out the window, "enjoy your moment while you can. I'm coming for you. I'm coming soon and not a damn thing on this earth will stop what's going to happen to you."
Detective Todd Mulhearn groaned. The FBI criminal behaviour team were inbound. their plane had landed and they were on their way in. The whole case just went to hell as far as he was concerned.
The last time the FBI took over multiple murder in chicago; they blew it big time. The perpetrator stayed a step ahead and tried to run for Canada ending in a shoot-out with Immigration with another 5 people murdered in the firefight, including a transit authority officer, two federal agents wounded and a canine crippled and had to be put down.
The Transit officer had been his brother-in-law. His own sister still constantly blames him for the death.
The liason agent walked over,"Detective Mulhearn? I'm agent Harton."
Mulhearn looked up," I know who you are agent Harton. where's S.A.C. Williams?"
"I'm right here Detective," a dark suited man answered.
Mulhearn stood up and beckoned them to follow then led them down to an empty office, "Everything is in here and the coffee machine is over there. that's it."
The smirking Fed blocked him,"what's the attitude for? taking the case?"
Mulhearn looked at him steadily then said flatly,"No Special Asshole in Charge. Your last fuck-up here got a bunch of people killed. Including my brother-in-law. Now every sunday afternoon I repeatedly have try to explain to my sister why she shouldn't blame me for your incompetence that made her world go to Hell. She miscarried their baby when she got the call he was dead. No husband, no baby. Just misery and I get your blame for it because you wanted to grand stand to be in newspapers."
The Chicago cop's voice carried well, everybody could hear him. All had stopped to listen as the FBI team of profilers felt the urge to want to melt into a wall.
When Williams gave him a blank look the cop continued,"We HAD the sonofabitch! You OVER-GLORIFIED JACK ASSES took us off his trail and sent everybody in the wrong direction, letting him slip through our net. So you tell me fuckhead; why should I be anymore accomodating that I just was? You personally deserve a life altering ass beating just for coming back here! Hurry the fuck up and get out of town, you're not wanted here!"
Everyone was silent as Mulhearn stomped back to his desk. The Captain stood in his doorway and crooked a finger at him. Mulhearn walked over to the office and closed the door behind him.
"Sit down Todd,"the captain said.
"Captain don't start with the 'Bureau has jurisdiction' shit," Mulhearn said.
"This is off the record. I hate 'em as much as you do, Eddie was a good man, but they do have jurisdiction. The Chief called them in because the Mayor wanted them here. That doesn't mean we can't still work the case, but tread carefully and quietly. Got it," The captain asked.
Mulhearn nodded then walked out, "got it Bill."
CHAPTER 2
Dannigan had went back to his office and used every snooper program he had to gather all the information about the murders in Chicago then picked up the phone and dialed the number to Rodrick's hangar in the Bahamas.
"Pete's private portal to purgatory," a sarcastic voice announced.
"Nice one. Been practicing that for a week haven't you," Dannigan asked.
"oh its you. Ramrod ain't here super-spook. he had a hop but should be done tomorrow, want him to call you back," Pete asked.
Dannigan chuckled at the nick-name, "No; actually I need to talk to Kimberly."
Pete tried to cover the mouthpice and yelled for Kimberly to pick up on line one then came back,"No sweat. she'll pick up in just a sec in the office."
Pete put him on hold and a moment later the line picked up again and Kimberly spoke,"Yes?"
"hello Kimberly. I need that brain of yours,"Dannigan said.
"yes Major,"she answered,"What can I do?"
"I'm sending raw intel; a serial killer. Lyssa is going hunting," he replied.
Kimberly typed in the passwords and saw the file loading, "I'll get right on it Major."
"Moore I'm not gonna snow you. This is personal for her. Its your time to really shine so make it count," Dannigan informed her.
"yes sir; I'm all over it here," Kimberly disconnected.
Dannigan cradled the reciever then sent a message to Lyssa;
Kimberly working now, find something for you soon.
Lyssa read the message and confirmed it along with the request for the armament package. There was no reply, meaning she'd have it no later than the following morning. She then pulled up on her laptop house listings and made an appointment to view three that caught her interest.
Morning came quickly. By lunch she signed the papers on one and had the payment transferred from the Zurich account and arranged for utilities to be turned on with high speed internet as well then ordered furnishing and appliances and went out to purchase a car. a Dodge Viper, a Lincoln Navigator and the neccessary parts to modify the Viper. Luckily a local shop had the parts in stock and did the modifications.
That evening she returned to the hotel and found Marissa sitting on the couch staring out the window.
"Hey. How long you been up," Lyssa asked.
Marissa looked around then turned to her,"I dunno. I feel like i slept a long time."
Lyssa sat beside her and hugged her, "I forwarded your phone to mine, the police didn't call but an FBI agent did. They want to talk to you tomorrow. They'll come here to talk to you so you don't get hassled again. I'll be out during the morning so you have privacy but all you have to do is call."
Marissa nodded, "ok. Thanks Lyssa. Prima Lyssa, the Ghost Legend; who will never let us fail."
Lyssa smoothed a lock of hair back from her eyes," Go get washed up. Dinner will be here in a couple of minutes and no arguing, you will eat."
Marissa got up and slowly went to the bathroom to wash up then return just as Room Service announced themselves. Lyssa coaxed, badgered and even outright bullied Marissa to eatting the dinner of her favorite things then take a hot bubblebath. After getting her friend settled back in for the night then took one herself.
She woke up at six am local and went for a run. when she got back; the desk clerk informed her of the arrival of her delayed suitcases. Lyssa thanked her and returned a few minutes later with her rental keys. Lyssa took the suitcases to her Navigator. She rushed back up, showered and dressed then woke Marissa up for breakfast.
They finished their meal and Marissa was sent to get ready for the day. Someone knocked on the door after an hour, Lyssa opened it to two FBI agents showing their credentials.
"Come in. please have a seat, Marissa will be out in just a minute. She's getting dressed,"Lyssa told them.
"And you are," the male agent asked.
"Lyssa Kordenay. I trained Marissa," she gave him a side look.
"Trained? what kind of training," he asked.
Lyssa gave him a firm look, "I'll see your IDs again please. The both of you."
They picked up quickly that she wasn't requesting. The blonde woman's whole demeanor had changed in an instant. She was ordering them like a pair of probationary rookies. They showed their credentials again and Lyssa carefully examined them at great length.
"Why are we showing our ID's again," the agent named Mary Quintanera asked.
"Because any investigator worth their badge would know Marissa is a ballerina. a Prima that trained under me for some time at Bolshoi. FBI field agents wouldn't make such a careless mistake unless they aren't up to the standards of reputation. That is unless all you do is interviews for the investigating team," Lyssa gave them both a scrutinizing look.
"I'm Special Agent In Charge Williams Ms.Kordenay and comments like that don't set well with me," he glared.
Lyssa went ice cold and stepped in close, "Make no mistake. I've danced for old line Russian generals and the soviet cabinet. Command performances for the royalty of England, Norway and Monaco as well as heads of state and international corporations too. Don't think for one second you can stare me down and make me quail. You've never had what it takes to even think it. You'd better bring out your a-game or I'm quite sure I know somebody that will ensure a competent team of investigators are brought in to deal with the killer of my understudy's baby sister who was about to attend the Bolshoi academy herself. I hear the Attorney General is a great admirer of ballet...."
Marissa walked in and saw the intense look Lyssa was giving the FBI agent, "You'd better give up now mister. Lyssa goes toe-to-toe with producers and directors that make more money in one month than the both of you put together all year. I've even seen her make an ex-KGB guy sit up and bark. She ALWAYS wins."
Lyssa gave her friend a snarky look then went over and hugged her," I'll be back later. I have business."
"Da PRIMA Lyssa. Be nice to people today," Marissa said.
Lyssa picked up her purse and keys and left.
After she left the female agent asked, "Be nice to people?"
Marissa shrugged, "She's going to go tell Playboy no again. They found out she's in town yesterday. Its the second time they've asked her to pose and she won't do it."
That made the female agent raise her eyebrows. Women were rarely asked actively to pose for the iconic magazine and she'd never heard of anybody that said no to be asked again.
Agent Williams cleared his throat calling them both back to the subject at hand and began the interview. Fifteen minutes later they left.
Marissa had been interviewed for magazines and newspaper columns before. The agents didn't leave her with a comfortable feeling. In fact she felt more afraid than anything else when they left.
Even though she had only been on the island for three days Kimberly finished her summary then sent it back to Dannigan. Lyssa was going after a real monster. Kimberly had spent all night pouring of the raw data and found what she was looking for. She submitted a profile and possible location of his hunting grounds.
Most of the victims had two or three places in common but one really stood out. a coffee shop where each one got a coffee or a hot chocolate at least every other afternoon, at least the debit cards said that. More than likely cash was used by some.
All victims had last been seen wearing exercise apparel and in the latest victim's case, dancewear. Mister Bad-guy had a thing for young, fit, tan, light brown haired, blue-eyed girls. Not like the steel-eyed, blonde Lyssa.
The FBI were all over the place but dismissed the coffe shop connection, if it didn't connect all in a way that could be verified they omitted it. they didn't overlay victim travel patterns and see that the coffee shop was nearby to all whether they were coming or going to fitness facilities and in the dancer's case the college arts department.
The FBI field agents were being very accomodating by filing hourly reports which was how she knew of the dismissed coffeeshop. Unlike the Feds looking to prosecute, Lyssa was gunning for the guy. A stalker of women was about to meet the hunter of men. Kimberly closed out with an addendum message;
Good luck Lyssa, Kim.
Kimberly unconsciously touched her face. She had spent two weeks in a special medical facility undergoing treatment and surgery. DARPA had overseen a growth hormone project that ended up going sideways. Instead of muscular, high endurance soldiers; they had ended up with five very feminine looking subjects. Dannigan had found the discarded project information and utilized it for Lyssa's transition; Project Chrysalis. That project re-instituted for Kimberly Susan Moore. Designation: Lightning Bug.
Kimberly also had a teflon frame slid under her facial muscles and adhered to her skull to change her facial structure. Lyssa had not lied when she warned of pain. All in all, Kimberly would not be recognizable to anyone from her past.
Like Lyssa, her previous identity had been officially declared deceased with a funeral. Keith Thompson was no more. Kimberly Susan Moore was now very real and would even be able to go to Washington to watch Lyssa dance for Christmas. She was happy. Kimberly was doing what she did best and living on a private island in the Bahamas on top of that. She was even getting paid, too! Life was great.
Agent Williams had asked Research for all they had on Lyssa Kordenay and now read the file. It started with the usual information which was no suprise then he saw the listing of Juliard and Bolshoi along with an Italian modeling school. suffix notes provided told him those academies were the ones that generated professionals; long time professionals. High level dancers that turned into renowned teachers. The kind that aspiring dancers would give anything to train under.
The modeling was all European and some Asian. She maintained a residence outside Washington, in Virginia, but spent a lot of time in the Caribbean.
She was also engaged to a sketchy private pilot named Rodrick Mason, an ex-SEAL who's very slim file read in big bold letters, BACK THE FUCK OFF. Ok, that explained her attitude.
She wasn't lying about who she had danced for either; command and royal performances. Prissy ballerina with a pitbull boyfriend or not, he was still an FBI special agent. He'd make the papers again catching a serial killer. His plan was to run down all the staff at the gyms the women had in common.
Lyssa had finished with the domestic projects. Her weapons and ordinance were secure, now it was time to go hunting. Kimberly's packet gave her exactly what it was she needed. His hunting ground. A quick lunch with Marissa and two of jeanie's friends from the arts department at college got Marissa out of her stupor.
Lyssa encouraged her to go to the studio with them. she'd been saddened but seen what her sister had been doing and how hard she'd been training, Maybe Marissa could temporary mentor the class.
Lyssa ordered a hot chocolate at the counter then sat at a table and logged in using the free wifi to check her facebook and go through social messages then watch videos of up and coming new dancers from the area.
After a couple of hours she noticed a woman walking in wearing workout/dance wear. a redhead. Still Lyssa watched the men, you never knew when a psycho would flip preferences. She ordered a local version of a water with supplements then left. Nobody reacted as Kimberly suggested Lyssa to watch for, undisguised hatred or complete robotic automation.
The current barista wasn't a possible; he kept checking out the other guys, specifically office types. It was almost six when a girl withdark honey colored hair walked in wearing spandex and aerobic shoes. Lyssa redlined her senses and watched. The woman ordered a hot chocolate. Lyssa's hyper-awareness caught it. The reaction she'd been waiting for.
The guy by the window wearing chinos and a dark polo shirt. He didn't give her the casual up/down. He'd locked his eyes on her and had a stoney expression, but it was his eyes that gave him away. Intense hatred. While he watched her through the window walking down the sidewalk away; Lyssa stepped in close tossing her empty cup in the trash and slid a small tracker into his jacket.
She gave him a five minute head start then followed his signal in her car. a gym was the first stop. She watched him go inside then come back out a few minutes later. Next he went to the woman's apartment building and finally back to a four story building that definitely seen better days; over thirty years ago. Alot of windows missing and no fire escape. No lights. In fact there were no street lights for three posts in either direction.
'Kimberly should see this,' Lyssa thought.
The new intel specialist had all but given an address in the profile. She slipped out and installed a booster to relay information from the tracker. a quick call to check on Marissa as she drove back to her new house brought good news, she was out to dinner with the girls from the college.
Lyssa geared up with her usual combat rig then returned to the old tenement concealing her car a block away behind a dumpster. She climbed to the top of a neighboring abandoned building and settled in on the roof. Now the waiting began.
CHAPTER 3
He rammed the knife into the picture he'd taken and printed up. People called her Diane but he knew better, it was Heather again. Prancing around showing off herself to everyone without the slightest bit of respect for him. How quickly she'd forgot that it was him that encouraged her, worked beside her everyday to get the body she wanted. How dare she leave him for somebody else after she got it. He'd remind the ungrateful bitch her place was with him. With him or nobody.
Just after the sun had set he drove to the alley between the coffee shop and gym to wait. An hour later he stood next to the street, as she walked by he sprang slamming into her hard. Clamping a chlorophormed rag over her mouth and nose and holding her arms to her sides with his other carrying her into the alley.
Within moments she had stopped struggling allowing him to tie her wrists and ankles then press tape across her mouth in the back of the station wagon. He covered her with a dark blanket then closed the door and jumped behind the wheel. He fought the urge to rocket through the alleys and streets to hurry back.
Lyssa had seen him leave. She hurried down to the ground and worked her way across through the high weeds of the vacant lot to the derelict looking building. She flattened herself against the wall and free climbed up to the second floor to slither in through a broken window. Carefully she worked her way down to the basement and began clearing the building.
The third floor revealed what she searched for. Essentially a very large walk in cooler. Inside was a grotesque chamber of horrors, a large table covered with blood stains. On the wall were several long locks of hair tied with a strip of material and tacked to a photo. It took all she had not to empty her stomach in revulsion.
Lyssa recognized the photo of Marissa's sister Jeanie. underneath it a lock of hair tied with scrap of pink chiffon. It had been torn from her head, not cut. She stroked the clutch of hair through her gloved fingers. Lyssa felt the anger rise within herself. She felt her blood to run ice cold then turned to the door. Silently Lyssa moved back to the stairwell. Her boots were soundless walking down the stairs, the supressed Jericho auto-pistols leading the way. The arrival of a car signalled her to take cover.
The man had returned and he wasn't empty handed. A grim shadow silently followed him back up. At the insulated door he stopped.
The man growled,"Welcome back home Heather."
He yanked at the door then fell, pain bolting through his leg. A flash of fire and pain went through his other leg. He looked down and saw both knees were mangled. He didn't understand. Then it hit him, Somebody trying to take Heather from him.
"NO! SHE'S MINE," He struggled to get closer to her.
Two more flashes and he couldn't move his arms.
Lyssa stepped from deep within the shadows like a grim apparition. The swirls of facial combat paint obscuring her features and making her eyes seem to glow. She holstered the pistols and closed in drawing the Marauder from the back of her leg.
"In the movies, the characters seem to be all scared shitless and make stupid decisions running around trying to get away from a psycho with an ax, chainsaw or something like that as he just stomps around constantly behind them," Lyssa commented, "this isn't the movies. I'm not some airheaded bimbo that runs around freaking out. I'm going to introduce you to what pain and suffering really are."
First she dug the bullet from the face of the door then found a small hole in the floor and dug from it the second bullet. Lyssa pressed one knee down on his chest and pinned his wrist with her boot and then slowly pressed the tip of the blade into his shoulder and started digging the bullet out.
He screamed and tried to thrash her off but all it did was cause her knee to slide down to his throat making him gag and choke until she retrieved the slug. She shifted her position ramming her other knee down at the top of his chest and stamping her boot down on his other wrist then digging into his other shoulder with the wicked looking knife for the remaining bullet.
He screeched and tried to shake her off but all it got him was the shift of her knee to his throat again. She held up the deformed bullet she'd dug out of his shoulder and showed it to him. Lyssa then stood and started dragging him into the dark room that smelled of blood and death. A chain looped around his neck tightened as he was dragged up onto the table and secured.
Lyssa went back and checked the woman. The scent of chloroform was obvious. Lyssa gave her just a little of the same sedative she'd used on Marissa to ensure the woman would be out for another hour or two.
He tried to squirm away cursing but she slammed a punch to his temple stunning him then she brought the blade down the length of his torso slicing open his shirt, pants, underwear and some skin. Fire streaked through him causing him to scream out.
Lyssa leaned in and hissed into his ear, "the things I'd do if I had the time. you're lucky I don't. You won't like what I do with the time I do have."
Lyssa held his wrist up then rammed her forearm against the back of his elbow. The crack and resulting scream echoed in the death chamber. She repeated that with his other arm then both wrists followed by each finger joint. He was already screaming wildly as she then did the same with his toes, ankles and knees.
"Now for the main event," Lyssa said calmly, not even breathing hard.
She grasped the front of his hairline and pressed the blade against his forehead then pulled it hard guiding the edge into the skin and along his skull, essentially scalping him. From there she cut away his clothing and began slowly skinning him alive. Lyssa would trace the tip of the razor sharp Marauder under his skin then held the skin against the flat of its blade and pulled down slowly.
Arnold Robbins had no idea who the person was or why they were doing this to him. He wanted his Heather to understand she belonged to him. He thrashed and screamed as the black clad person ripped his skin off slowly and dropped each piece to the floor.
Finally, for effect, she emasculated him and held the severed genitals in front of him. She then turned his head to look at her eyes and sliced into his neck that would guide the blood down into his lungs. Cold steel grey eyes looked into his pain filled brown ones as Lyssa leaned close.
She whispered an icy hiss, "Past the Gates; before the Devil's throne, I've seen Hell. Tell them I sent you."
Lyssa melted away into darkness and all he could hear was his own gagging and choking from drowning in his own blood.
Diane heard no sounds and felt as it she were laying on a dirty floor. Everything hurt but she struggled to sit up in the dark, something fell from her and clattered. She felt around and found it, a cellphone, hers. She flipped it open and dialed nine-one-one.
"Nine-One-One what is your emergency," a voice asked.
"Please help me, somebody took me and I don't know where I am. I'm on my cellphone, my name is Diane Condelinni please help me I'm scared," she whispered.
"Please stay on the line, we're trying to find your location by GPS..........stay with me Diane, I'll find you just hold on and stay with me," the operator instructed her in a calm voice.
"Please hurry, I'm scared to even move,"Diane begged.
The line was quiet for a moment then the operator came back, "Diane we know where you are and police are coming, stay on the line Diane. Help is coming."
Minutes later, sirens could be heard in the distance and she whispered that she could hear them, then cars screeching to a stop. She could hear the officers shouting then breaking the door in and running up the stairs calling out her name.
"I'M HERE," She yelled.
The officers ran up the remaining stairs and approached her slowly checking for any hidden attackers.
An officer gathered her up and freed her hands and ankles,"We got you,Ma'am."
Diane sobbed to his shoulder as she was carried down, an ambulance's siren in the distance getting closer.
The last thing she heard was another officer, "HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD!!! Somebody call detective Mulhearn. Looks like a slaughterhouse in here!"
Mulhearn walked in and looked at the walls, photos of the recent victims, the souvenier hair, bloody knives, chains and ropes were there.
"Get this processed and packed up fast. Fuck the Feds. I don't want them getting wind of this," he ordered.
The forensics team did; they video taped, photographed every square inch of the large cooler then bagged and catalogued each item. The coroner took the body and the removed skin and scalp. By sunrise everything was done and he was sitting at his desk with a cup of coffee going over preliminary notes when Agent Williams stormed in.
"WHO THE HELL AUTHORIZED THE CONTAMINATION OF THAT CRIME SCENE," the Fed bellowed.
The Police Commissioner, the Captain and the Governor all stepped out of the Captain's office unnoticed by the agent as he reached down and grabbed Mulhearn by his jacket.
Williams raged, "YOU!!!! YOU RUINED MY CASE! I SHOULD HAVE YOU LOCKED UP MULHEARN!!!!"
Mulhearn didn't even smile, "Piss off Quantico. we need you less now than we did before."
Williams lost it and let fly with a punch. Officers all over the room jumped from their seats and shouted for Mulhearn to fight him. Two more punches then Mulhearn scooped him up and threw him several feet away.
The governor stepped in front of the agent looking down, "The Director will hear about this Agent Williams. Strike three I hear...."
The other agents blocked Williams from making the situation worse and herded him to the door.
CHAPTER 4
Marissa walked out of the bedroom sleepily rubbing her eyes.
"Morning sleepyhead," Lyssa greeted her.
"Morning," she mumbled back then took the coffee from her and sipped it.
"Hurry up and eat Marissa, Rodrick will be here in three hours. We're taking you and Jeanie home now," Lyssa said softly.
She nodded and ate the toast, some of the fruit and drank the milk and juice poured for her. After breakfast Marissa went to shower and dress. Lyssa had already made arrangements with a mortuary service to prepare Jeanie's body to be taken back to Hawaii via Rodrick's plane. All Marissa had to do was sign her out from the service at the private runway.
Rodrick and Pete both walked down the steps and hugged her then Lyssa walked her up into the Gulfstream so that Rodrick and Pete could assist the service loading the casket into the cargo space. Pete supervised the refueling while Rodrick filed the continuation flightplan and paid for the fuel.
Within the hour they were taking off flying southwest. Rodrick came back after they were at altitude and sat next to Lyssa.
Rodrick reached over and held Marissa's hand, "Honey I'm awful sorry that your first ride on my plane has to be like this."
Marissa nodded and sniffed, "What about Jeanie?"
"All taken care of," Lyssa answered, "your parents have somebody meeting us when we land to pick her up and they'll take home themselves."
"We'll stay for the service Marissa,"Rodrick added.
Marissa leaned forward and hugged Lyssa then Rodrick,"thank you both. I wouldn't know what to do about all this."
Lyssa replied gently, "Its what we could do Marissa. In trouble I'll always come for you, my friend."
Rodrick echoed, "Always."
Lyssa reclined Marissa's seat and Rodrick tucked a blanket around her. They both went to the back of the plane to talk.
"Heard it was a real mess," Rodrick commented.
"I took care of it. Its done and he won't be a problem to anybody," Lyssa said flatly.
"Feds are eighteen different kinds of pissed off, the locals are stumped but glad. Seems the lead detective on the case had an ax to grind with the Feds that got called in but he's happy they're out of his hair," Rodrick informed her.
Lyssa looked at him pointedly, "I'm clean. Nobody saw or heard anything."
He nodded then went back to the cockpit to alternate flying time with Pete. They refueled at LAX then continued on to Hawaii.
Rodrick brought the plane down gently then taxied to the private hangars where a hearse and group of people awaited. Marissa all but ran down the stairs when Pete lowered them and was taken into her family's hug. Rodrick brought out her suitcase and passed it to her brother and shook hands with him and their father.
Pete had went over to the mortuary service and asked them to wait until the family had taken Marissa and the women home. When the car pulled away he signalled the service to pull up. Pete and Rodrick helped them transfer the casket into the hearse while Lyssa spoke to the director about the family bringing the appropriate clothing then they secured the plane and took a rental to Lyssa's house. They rested that night and prepared for the wake the next day.
The following day was a saturday and the funeral was that afternoon. Several young women that had taken ballet with Jeanie stepped forward and placed keepsakes into the coffin with her along with telling the story behind it.
Lyssa stepped forward holding a pair of new pointe shoes, "Jeanie was getting ready for Bolshoi. She was so excited. I promised her new shoes to take for her training. I went ahead and sewed her ribbons and elastic on them. Dance with angels Jeanie."
Lyssa gently placed the shoes in next to her.
Finally Marissa herself stepped forward, "when I was named Prima; Lyssa gave me the tiara she wore for The Nutcracker in Moscow. I wore it for my first production as principal dancer, The Nutcracker in Royal Albert Hall. Jeanie was so proud. I promised her she'd have it."
Marissa carefully placed the tiara on Jeanie's head then started crying and had to be helped back to her chair. Lyssa leaned down and hugged her friend. A local Kahuna lead them all in a prayer and a family friend danced a hula of goodbye as the casket was lowered. Everyone filed past the family with hugs and handshakes with their condolences. After the burial many followed the family home including Lyssa.
Rodrick and Pete went into town claiming to go check the plane, she knew they were going to go meet up with old friends currently stationed nearby at Pearl Harbor.
Dannigan read the memo from the Attorney General to the Director of the FBI and the Assistant Director in charge of the behavioural unit at Quantico. it seemed that the resignation of S.A.C. Williams was being demanded at the insistance of the Governor of Illinois and the brass of Chicago police.
Also if the Bureau didn't up its standards of behaviour and performance for agents they'd be denied any cooperation by local and state authorities in Illinois.
Kimberly had noted in her packet to him:
Agent Williams has conflict with the practical application of his theoretical resources.
Lyssa's venacular was more to the point; the man was educated beyond his intelligence. Kimberly had also interfered remotely with several of the traffic cameras in the area blocking Lyssa's car from view so she was clean and clear.
He expected them back the next day after dropping pete off in the Bahamas. Kimberly was already proving her value brilliantly. He authorized a bump in pay to her. Lyssa's after action report had high praise for her as well. The future of the agency truly did look bright in all the darkness it worked in.
Pete walked into the hangar after helping to refuel the Gulfstream before Rodrick and Lyssa headed back to the States.
"Welcome back Pete," Kimberly called out from the office.
"Lyssa and Rod's apologies but they had to blast. a ballet she has to start rehearsing for but they left this for you,"Pete said holding up a box.
Kimberly hurried down the stairs and tore into the box to find a Hawaiian print sarong and a pink sweater dress with a wide black belt.
"Lyssa said you'll need that dress when you go up for Christmas," He said with a grin.
Kimberly looked up in surprise, "Christmas! So I will get to see her dance?"
Pete smiled big,"Box seats...Rod, you, me, Madison and the super-spook."
"WOOOOO," Kimberly cheered and took the gifts to her trailer happily.
Book 23 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa has fought on almost every continent and every condition but she's never faced a situation like this!! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan answered the phone on its second ring,"Yes?"
It was odd for it to ring straight through bypassing Madison.
"You're a hard man to find Branton," the voice chuckled.
"Not hard enough General; you found me," Dannigan replied easily.
General Singleton got serious, "I need a face-to-face with you. Max's coffee in twenty minutes."
Dannigan tried to acknowledge but the General had already disconnected. He looked at his watch, if he left now he'd have time to spare. He grabbed his coat and hat and left. he watched outside for a few minutes then walked in and ordered a coffee and took a table. General Singleton walked in casually and in civilian clothing; jeans, brown bomber jacket, worn cowboy boots and black stetson. Dannigan noticed the grey t-shirt with the HK logo and resisted a chuckle.
After ordering a coffee for himself he sat at the table beside him.
"How's things Major," he asked flipping open a copy of USAToday.
Dannigan glanced around casually and remarked, "Pretty quiet today for me or at least it was."
The general slid over a section of the paper, hidden inside were two sheets of paper.
"Calling yourself Dannigan now," he asked.
Dannigan grinned, "Its a name that still has uses."
Dannigan glanced at the first page and read it. A police report of an abduction then subsequent finding of the body two weeks later. The second page read almost identical except for the name and time-frame, victim still missing. Thirty-six hours had elapsed.
"Ok,I give. Who is she,"Dannigan asked.
Singleton stared out the window, "My niece. we're not sure if this is random or somebody specifically targeting me. Locals think its a budding serial but either way it makes me vulnerable and D.O.D. can't have it."
"I understand that but surely the FBI are in on this,"Dannigan remarked.
"All civilian entities are out of the loop. DIA and CID are on it but it could go sideways. Or worse; get political," he explained, "you and your people don't do politics and couldn't care less if things go sideways. I need this done Major. I need this done your way, now."
"Sir, we don't work in the open like this. I don't work in the open like this,"Dannigan said.
General Singleton finally looked at him, "a team has scrambled by D.I.A. Not an investigation team."
Dannigan's face turned to stone,"Headhunters?"
Singleton answered with a nod.
Dannigan stood up, "we're gonna have a long fucking talk after this General."
He nodded then watched Dannigan leave.
Madison answered on the first ring, "yes Major?"
He didn't waste time, "D.I.A. operation: Next of Kin. Get everything they got and send it to Kimberly message as follows: time critical find missing subject, time essential find perpetrator end message. Alert Lyssa message as follows: time critical extraction situation compromised by D.I.A. liquidation team end message."
"Yes sir," she answered then disconnected.
It took ten minutes to get enough data gathered up and sent to Kimberly then called Rodrick's hangar in the Bahamas.
After five rings the phone was picked up and a growly voice answered, "Arrrrrr matey what be ye wantin' ere wit the island of Lost pilots and planes?"
Madison giggled, "Now that's funny."
Pete stammered, "Madison. uh. Hey; sorry, we had a pirates of the caribbean marathon last night. Kinda got stuck on it, I guess."
She chuckled, "that's cool. Please tell Kimberly she has work, a packet has been sent to her. She's needed to get on that immediately."
"Will do. We sure are looking forward to christmas. Box seats at the ballet is cool stuff. Never been to one before; Kim's marking off calendar days in the office," Pete commented.
"You're in for something really special then the Nutcracker is Lyssa's favorite. I've seen DVD's of her but this will be the first time I see her dance it live," Madison said brightly.
Pete asked, "so going to the ballet. That's formal isn't it? I have wear a tux don't I?"
Madison giggled, "most of the time yes. Since this is Lyssa and she's dancing in Washington and the President will be there, definitely. Men wear tuxedos and women wear evening gowns. Lyssa made sure I have the right gown to wear."
"Wow! I guess I better make sure my monkey suit is still good. We'll see you then," Pete said cheerfully.
Madison disconnected smiling, Pete was always good for a laugh. It was kinda nice that he always made her laugh with his greetings. She doubted the Major found them as entertaining as she did. For some reason she got the impression Pete and Major Dannigan didn't get on as well as Rodrick and the Major did. Then again Pete had been a Marine. Marines didn't have a reputation for playing well with the intelligence community or anybody else outside the Corps or Navy. Lyssa on the other hand didn't have to worry, she commanded respect on many fronts. Madison wondered what he was like off the job.
Kimberly started sorting through the packet. The D.I.A. were being very thorough. Left unhindered, they'd be on top of whomever it was within the week. She launched her various programs then sifted through more. Four screens began displaying information. Kimberly saw the tasking for the Headhunter team and swore.
Those guys were as blunt and straight-forward as it got; go in, kill anything that breathes and sterilize the site by burning it to the hard-packed dirt underneath. They were like turning loose a pack of pitbulls pumped full of steroids and pcp. The effect they had was like a runaway train on fire plowing through a port-a-john.
Most Headhunter teams were platoon sized. To say they were trigger-happy was an understatement. They weren't like Delta troopers or the Team Six SEALs of DEVGRU. Definitely not like Lyssa; she was a walking example of surgical precision in black operations. Headhunters were pretty much a last resort when nobody cared how it got done anymore. They left a big burning hole in the ground.
Pete keep her coffee fresh and brought dinner and a few snacks as Kimberly worked through the night. She took a break in the morning for exercise, a shower and breakfast then got back at it. It was late in the afternoon when she found a spore. Everything outside got ignored as she fixated her searching.
Long after midnight came she had it. Kimberly quickly assembled a packet then sent it to Madison and Lyssa. The D.I.A. hounds were narrowing as well so a quick slip of black information would keep them occupied for a while longer.
Pete came in as she leaned back in the chair, "Either you just slammed through or into a brick wall."
Kimberly smiled, "I got 'em. I GOT 'EM, THOSE RAT-FUCKED BASTARDS! The rest is up to Lyssa to do what she does best."
Pete looked thoughtful for a moment, "Kim when all is said and done; are you basically going to be another Lyssa?"
Kimberly sat up, "Pete, Lyssa is a one-of-a-kind. She can never be duplicated. You know she started out in black ops? Me, I started out in Intelligence. this is what I do, I crunch the data. She's an Operator through and through, a shooter. I can do surveillance and things like that, but not like her. Honestly I don't think I can look at killing the way she does. It has to do with mentality and I don't think I could ever possess the same that she does. Its what makes her the best."
Pete thought about that then said, "I know she has some kind of Green Beret or Delta type training; otherwise she wouldn't be able to run circles around Rod the way she does and he's a SEAL. I guess that makes the difference."
"A lot more than you know. A lot more than I can tell you," Kimberly said.
Pete took that as the line not to be crossed and gave her a smile then turned to go to his room to sleep.
Kimberly said softly to herself, "A lot more than anybody will ever know. She's an unknown national treasure. Maybe one day people can know what she's done. For all of us."
CHAPTER 2
Lyssa stood looking out the french doors, coffee cup in hand. She and Rodrick had long since woke, ran their morning triathlon, showered and had breakfast. They had tied again, something that didn't happen often. this was her last free week before rehearsals started so she was enjoying it.
Rodrick was occupying himself consulting to a small aviation company with two projects in the works; a sport plane and a luxury plane that they hoped would rival Gulfstream.
The ringing of her phone grabbed her attention from watching the waves and listening to Rodrick talk tech with engineers.
"hello,"She answered.
"Morning Lyssa, you have a packet awaiting you. good luck," Dannigan said bluntly.
"I'll do what can be done," she replied then disconnected.
Lyssa worked in her basement. Building plans lay spread out on the center table, white boards on one wall displayed notes. The other walls held racks of weapons, gunsmith equipment, her desk and large plasma screen. Rodrick noticed her personality shift. Seeing her in there working reminded Rodrick that she was more than her appearance. Lyssa had been one of a limited few of Operators totally removed from the norm, now she was the likes of which the world had never known.
It took an hour to go through the packet then she planned out her incursion and extraction. Lyssa mapped it out then reviewed it several times then called a cadence of it. It felt right to her so then she looked at from the other side and started picking it apart, how would she combat such an incursion. She took a lunch break when it seemed to be foolproof and afterward came back and tried to take the plan completely apart. Finally she laid down and took a nap for three hours then had dinner.
Lyssa pulled on a heavier weight version of her battlesuit and her boots. Rodrick checked over her equipment as she loaded her harness. The twin Jericho.40 cal automags with detachable suppressors were first along with additional magazines, next came the Marauder knife to slide into a sheath on the back of her right thigh. It was a knife not used by U.S. military at all, she'd found one once at a gun and knife show and tried it.
Deemed the ultimate combat/throwing knife, its unusual design ensured it would lodge everytime due to its handguard and pommel being spiked. next was the Fairbarn-Sikes knife, it was from a world war two design; smooth and double bladed, it too could be thrown accurately if necessary. Some operators used an updated version, the Fairbarne-Applegate but most used an
issued knife such as the M-9 bayonet or the Ka-Bar Field Fighter or a Naval issue dive knife. Several companies had versions that had become popular over the last decade.
A small five shot 9mm automatic went into her left boot and two microsyrettes went into her right. Lyssa rounded out with her munitions; two Def-Tec 25 flashbangs, two concussion and a white phosphorous grenade. After a moment of thought four shrapnel grenades. When Rodrick raised an eyebrow she replied something about minor parking problems during late autumn making him laugh. Finally she picked up a suppressed CAR-15 and magazines to lead with.
Currently Special Operations used a version made by Barret Arms; the M-4 but that would announce "U.S. Military" louder than the Marine Corps marching band on Memorial Day. The usual lead weapon for such an operation like this would be suppressed MP-7s, but the nine millimeter rounds would be ineffective against the body armor likely worn. The CAR-15 however was chambered for 5.56 NATO rounds. It had more power than the smaller pistol round. The bonus was the fact that aside from the suppressor, it was disposable. CAR-15's were all over the illegal weapons market, unlike the M-4s and MP-7s.
Rodrick strapped a throat-mic and earbud on her along with an encrypted radio despite her protest.
Lyssa griped, "what do I need this junk for anyway, who do I need to talk to?"
"That would be me you landlubbin', mud-rollin', stumblebummed, prissy prancing ballerina," Rodrick chastised her.
Lyssa remarked snarkily, "awwwww. Such sweet pillow talk from a dog paddlin', deck swabbin', moose-lipped, cross-eyed, knock-kneed, cornflake lookin' squid; with attitude issues."
He followed her out the door to the garage remarking, "when we come back from this OP I'm gonna spank you til you squeal."
Lyssa twitched her hips sassily then got into the SUV.
Rodrick closed the door mumbling, "Maybe I should bite your ass, develop lockjaw and make you drag me to fuckin' death."
Lyssa laughed at that remark.
Dannigan sat in his office and wondered how long Madison was going to stay. She had dialed into their comms and would be able to listen after receiving the message they were heading for the building. Now they waited in silence. This time was different from all the others; instead of just waiting for the messages like usual, they would be able to listen as it happened.
Madison ran in, "They're on station now!"
Dannigan turned up the volume on his computer just to catch Lyssa come up.
Lyssa keyed her mic, "comm check."
Rodrick answered her,"five by five, green light for soft probe."
she answered him back, "five by five. Penetrating perimeter now."
Madison sat on the edge of the chair across from Dannigan as he nodded to the large screen on the wall with a building schematic and a green light came up along with several red ones. there were two views of the building; from the side and from above.
They watched as Lyssa's green dot slowly moved across the vacant lot behind to the building then move inside.
Lyssa's hushed voice came across, "entry: window two ground, black six. Extract same."
Dannigan explained, "she's going in through the second window from the left on the ground floor, south side. she'll get out the same way unless something prevents her."
The narration was interrupted by the phone ringing which nearly caused Madison to fall from the chair.
Dannigan slammed the speaker button, "WHAT?!"
Kimberly's voice came through in a panic,"Major! D.I.A. got a break! Headhunters on station in twenty-five minutes with a drone in-bound in fifteen!"
"OH FUCK," Dannigan roared.
Madison frantically grabbed another phone and dialed Rodrick's satphone.
He answered on the first ring, "not now!"
Dannigan snatched the phone and barked, "HAUL ASS RAMROD! HEADHUNTERS AND A DRONE IN-BOUND, FIFTEEN MINUTES!"
Rodrick disconnected and relayed over the comms. Lyssa acknowledged by clicking her mic button twice.
Dannigan looked to Madison, "Lyssa understood. She's inside the building so she's gone silent, she'll only talk if necessary now. clicks are what we'll hear from her, single means negative, double means affirmative. triple means she's taken one down."
Madison walked over and watched the screen closer, "oh god; Lyssa please hurry."
Rodrick came over the comms, "Hostile approachin, five meters. Four. Three. He's yours."
The green and red dots merged then green moved forward leaving red behind and they heard three clicks.
Madison looked to Dannigan, "hostile down?"
The spook nodded grimly, "permanently."
They watched as Lyssa moved down the hallway clearing rooms one by one then up the stairs to the second floor.
"Have you on second floor proceeding white 11 to black 5," Rodrick announced.
Lyssa confirmed with a double click. her green dot moved slowly down the corridor.
"Freeze," Rodrick ordered,"one hostile moving.....heads up."
A moment later the green and red dots merged then separated with another triple click.
"You have a single. End of hall, stationary, clear to proceed," Rodrick stated.
a double-click was heard and they saw Lyssa move forward then take station outside the doorway then move inside.
"Hi!I'm Meghan. Who are you," a small voice came over the comms.
Dannigan and Madison looked at each other then the speakers in stunned confusion.
"Two to one. Uh, what the fuck over," Rodrick asked sounding just as confused as everybody else.
"I'm a shadow," Lyssa's voice was a whisper, "aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
"If I'm quiet I can play with Dolly. Would you like to play with Dolly shadow," the small voice asked.
"Maybe later. Have you seen a lady in here? She's probably very sad and wants to go home,"Lyssa asked.
Rodrick asked,"two to one; what's going on in there?"
The small voice answered, "there's a lady upstairs. She's very loud when she cries."
"Ok thank you Meghan. I'm going up there to see her. You wait here with Dolly and I'll be back,"Lyssa said.
Rodrick came over the comms, "this OP may be blown all to shit but you have seventeen minutes."
Lyssa answered audibly, "One to two; copy seventeen mikes. OP is still a go. Be advised, hellhole three to two."
"Roger that. Copy hellhole," Rodrick answered.
Dannigan explained, "a hellhole is a hole in the floor from the third to the second usually with mattresses or so on to cushion the landing of someone jumping through the hole. an old trick used when setting up shop in abandoned buildings or a tenement entirely controlled by occupying force."
Madison nodded her understanding as they watched Lyssa's green dot hurriedly move back to the stairwell and start moving up.
"Be advised; rooftop has comms and one set of optics," Rodrick reported.
Dannigan commented to Madison, "the group on the roof have communications gear and a scope or set of goggles for low-light or infra-red."
A double click answered him as the green dot gained the third floor then moved down the hallway slowly.
Rodrick stated, "have you white 11 to black 5 on three. Two hostiles red 2 and green 8."
Two clicks again. Lyssa moved to the first. She took station at the doorway then moved to center then the other side. A triple click then she moved further down and repeated the same movements further down the hallway then repeated the triple click again.
"Third floor clear, proceed to fourth. thirteen mikes," Rodrick reported.
Lyssa moved back to the stairs and moved up.
"Fourth floor moving white 11 to black 5, four unknowns," he reported again.
A double click answered.
Madison asked,"unknowns?"
Dannigan clarified, "he can't tell which are armed or not. The objective is on that floor if Kimberly is right."
Lyssa moved room to room the first room with two red dots they heard a triple click after the dots shifted position slightly then moved down to the next. Lyssa's dot centered itself in the doorway then moved inside.
Lyssa whispered, "for is clear. Hostiles down, I found the package."
They saw the two dots merge then move back down the hallway.
Lyssa reported, "I have the package. Extracting with additional."
"Oh good christ. Fuck, why not. Seven mikes, double time it," Rodrick ordered.
The two dots moved down to the second floor and down to the end of the hallway.
"Hello shadow," the small voice chirped.
"Its time to go Meghan, follow close because I can't carry the both of you," Lyssa instructed.
"Can I bring dolly," she asked.
"Of course you can. now we have to hurry," Lyssa told her.
They watched the three dots move downstairs and then out from the lower window and slowly across the empty lot.
"Meet you at the car," Rodrick said.
Rodrick was already there with the engine running when Lyssa arrived.
Lyssa said in a voice just above a whisper, "get inside and put on the seatbelt."
The little girl did as she was told then Lyssa set the unconscious woman on the seat beside her, buckled the belt and got in beside Rodrick.
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa called Dannigan," we have the package plus one."
Dannigan replied, "uh. yeah. we heard. Any fucking clue as to how we deal with plus one?"
Lyssa sighed, "no idea. Meet us at Chelsea's in twenty minutes. Bring a fingerprint scanner."
Lyssa disconnected after that. She turned around and looked to the backseat, Meghan was watching the scenery go by holding up the doll to do the same.
Rodrick looked into the mirror then whispered,"is it my imagination; or something, off about her? She's too happy about everything."
Lyssa whispered back, "not sure but I think she may have developmental issues or something. Either way I couldn't leave her with the Headhunters coming."
"Shadow. Me and Dolly are thirsty," Meghan said.
Lyssa took a bottle of water from the console and opened it then passed it back to her,"be very careful not to spill it on yourself or Dolly. Here's the top."
"Thank you,"she said sweetly.
Lyssa whispered back, "You're welcome."
The girl paid no more attention to Lyssa and Rodrick's facial paint than she did the fact they were armed total strangers going somewhere unknown to her. Shortly thereafter they arrived at the dark restaurant and saw the sedan with Dannigan waiting beside it and parked alongside.
"Good job you two. The drone didn't see anything and the Headhunters are going apeshit trying to figure out what happened," Dannigan said clasping their hands individually.
"Did you bring the scanner," Lyssa asked.
Dannigan reached inside and brought it out. Lyssa took it and walked around to the other side while Rodrick carefully transferred the injured woman to Dannigan's car.
Lyssa opened the door and leaned in, "Meghan will you press your thumb on this green square for me please?"
"Ok," she replied and did.
Moments later the message came back, No Data. Lyssa took out her cellphone and asked Meghan to smile for a picture then sent it to Kimberly's email with the message:
identity please, fast.
A closer look revealed that the girl was a child with Down's Syndrome. Lyssa checked her for injuries. A couple of small bruises on her upper arm was all she found, otherwise the girl seemed fine.
She rejoined Dannigan and Rodrick, "Meghan is a Down's child she looks about nine, maybe ten. Mentally; she's probably five or six. Maybe. If we're lucky."
"So what do we do with her," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa looked at the child in the backseat and sighed, "take her home with us for now. Hopefully Kimberly can find her family fast and we can make arrangements to get her to them."
Rodrick looked surprised, as did Dannigan.
Lyssa looked at them both angrily, "what?! I'm not going to just drop that little girl off at a police station or social services like a animal at the pound, that's cruel. I may be a lot of things but I'm not like THAT!"
Both men looked at each other as if one had been about to suggest doing so.
"Well we should at least get her checked out,"Rodrick said.
They all nodded their agreement. Dannigan stepped away and made two calls then wrote down an address and gave it to Rodrick. They left and met the off-the-books doctor, a woman that looked close to retirement.
"Hello,"Meghan chirped.
"Hello little one. Come inside and let's have a look at you," the woman smiled kindly.
"Shadow comes too," meghan asked.
Lyssa nodded and followed them inside. an hour later they walked out and got back into the SUV as Meghan yawned. Lyssa had been speaking to her the whole time in just above a whisper to hide her voice.
Lyssa told her, "When you wake up you'll be with some friends of ours. They'll look after you for a while."
"Ok shadow,"Meghan replied sleepily.
She fell asleep just as they cleared the D.C. area heading back to the beach house. Rodrick carried Meghan inside and laid her on the couch. Lyssa rushed through a quick shower then came back after running a bath for Meghan and carefully bathed her then slipped one of her own t-shirts onto her to sleep in and tucked her into the spare bed. They both went to bed but Lyssa took a two hour combat nap then was back up washing and drying Meghan's clothing.
Rodrick woke up, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt then wandered to the kitchen. Lyssa sat at the counter drinking coffee. He slipped his arms around her and kissed her when she tilted her head back to him.
"Morning," he murmurred.
She smiled and answered, "morning. I checked on her a few minutes ago, she's still asleep."
Rodrick poured coffee for himself, "so what ARE we going to do?"
"Kimberly is running facial recognition along with her DNA and physical description trying to find her family, somebody has to be looking for her," Lyssa replied.
"Plan A. What if they can't be found baby," he asked.
Lyssa got a sad look, "We'll have to find a family for her then. I believe we can do many things but I dunno about this. She needs a lot of care, in ways we have no knowledge about. This isn't a challenge. We can't take her lightly and hope for the best. Her best interests come first, not our egos. And certainly not my ego."
Rodrick thought about that then said,"true, Meghan isn't an objective or obstacle to be negotiated. She needs the best. We can find that for her if anybody can. That's something we can do."
Lyssa nodded. At that moment Meghan wandered in looking around.
Sleepily she said, "hello.I'm Meghan."
Lyssa slid off the stool and knelt down, "hello Meghan. I'm Lyssa and he's Rodrick, welcome to our house."
Meghan looked at her for a moment then leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Lyss..a. Pretty."
Lyssa smiled, "thank you Meghan. You're pretty too. Come sit and we'll have breakfast."
Rodrick leaned down and picked the girl up and sat her on a stool at the counter and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek too.
"Thank you Meghan, good morning to you," he smiled.
"Rod....rick....Rod....rick," she repeated as if practicing.
He chuckled and kissed her forehead,"that's right."
Meghan looked around then frowned," no shadow?"
Rodrick froze speechless.
Lyssa smiled to Meghan, "well now what would a shadow be doing in the bright daylight. Shadows need dark places don't they? Everything has to be just right for a shadow."
That seemed to make a lot of sense to Meghan as she told her doll, "no shadow Dolly. Lyss...a and Rod..rick."
Lyssa asked her, "Do you like pancakes Meghan?"
She nodded her agreement so Lyssa brought out the pre-made batter from the refrigerator and stirred it as the skillet heated.
Rodrick poured a small glass of juice and set it in front of her, "there you go sweetpea."
Meghan thanked him in a sweet voice and drank some . Lyssa made three small pancakes for her, buttered them and passed the plate to Rodrick who had already brought out a bottle of syrup and cut them into small squares for her after drizzling the thick syrup over them then took the plate of full size pancakes Lyssa made for him. Meghan chattered during breakfast and after. While Lyssa cleaned up, she watched the cartoon channel Rodrick found for her.
The doorbell rang and Lyssa let Dannigan in carrying a small suitcase.
"Madison did some shopping first thing this morning as per your instructions," he told them then passed the case to Lyssa.
"Oh good," Lyssa said, "Meghan let's go see about getting you dressed."
The little girl took Lyssa's hand and went to the spare room. Lyssa gave her a more thorough bath and dried her hair then dressed her. Meghan ran back into the living room wearing a grey dress, black tights and shiny black shoes with her sable brown hair in a ponytail.
"Look Rod...rick," she said and turned around.
Rodrick smiled," very pretty."
Meghan smiled. Lyssa came back in wearing a sweater dress in grey with black nylons herself.
Meghan took Lyssa's hand and crowed truimphantly, "Same."
Both men chuckled.
Meghan walked over and stood in front of Dannigan, "I'm Meghan."
"Hello sweetie, I'm Paul Dannigan," He introduced himself.
Meghan scrutinized him carefully then said,"all. all. puh-all.puh-all."
She didn't look satisfied with her own results.
"Dan...gig..gan. Dan-gig-gan.....Dan-gig-gan," she tried harder and looked to Lyssa.
"That's fine sweetie," Dannigan said gently.
His reassurance seemed to satisfy her so she looked back to the television and focused on the cartoon then climbed on Lyssa's lap when she sat down and continued to watch.
"Kimberly has been working since you messaged trying to find who she belongs to but nothing so far. She's going through birth records now for any girls with the same name diagnosed with Down's," Dannigan informed them.
Lyssa looked at him squarely, "Somebody has to be looking for her Major and we have to find them."
"That's just it Lyssa. Anybody that would be looking for her might not be, available; to be looking," Dannigan replied uneasily watching for a reaction from the child.
"That's a prospect that's not been overlooked Paul,"Rodrick commented.
"If that's the case Major then we'll have to find somebody for her," Lyssa added," She has needs that we have no idea how to deal with and that means that we would more than likely present more problems than solutions . We don't want that for her."
Dannigan admitted, "you had me worried that your maternal instincts were overriding practical judgement."
Lyssa shook her head, "I dunno about maternal instincts but I wouldn't just palm such a child off so casually. We're better than that. For us not to make sure that she has the best that can be is unacceptable. I don't buy into fate-karma-destiny bit. She was a Murphy nobody could have ever foreseen, much less planned about. Now we have to confront and resolve her situation; even if it means she has to be with somebody else because they are better suited to provide for her."
Dannigan looked to Rodrick who nodded his agreement.
"I even sent money to Kimberly's account for all the work she's putting into this for us," Lyssa said.
Dannigan chuckled, "that's good. that young lady is burning up every database in the country trying to find her for you."
They all couldn't help smiling when Meghan began singing along with the colorful characters on the cartoon she was watching.
CHAPTER 4
Kimberly had been slamming through firewalls and pillaging databases to search records for five days when finally she caught something. Evansville, Indiana; a girl matching Meghan's particulars and diagnosis. Lyssa had been clever and sent Kimberly Meghan's footprints so she compared them as if they were fingerprints. She had a match; Meghan Ashley Vancil.
Kimberly shifted her priority tasking to search for the parents. within moments her hopes fell, both parents were found murdered and Meghan had been presumed to be dead as well. Kimberly became angry then. She wouldn't admit defeat so easily and began tracking both parental sides looking for relatives. Time passed as her anger increased at the lack of results.
"Kim.....kim....KIM," Pete called from the doorway.
"WHAT," she demanded.
"Come on. You need to take a break and eat. you look ready to use those computers for target practice," Pete said.
Kimberly looked at the computer screen with outright hostility then got up, "allright."
Pete looked at her, "Kim you can do some amazing shit with those computers but face a fact; if it ain't there you ain't gonna find it. Period."
Kimberly looked down, "we can't fail that little girl Pete. We just CAN'T!"
Pete followed her across to the kitchen, "Kim just because she may not have any family left to find doesn't mean failure. It means going to plan B. And there is a plan-B. Rodrick and Lyssa wouldn't dare not have a plan-B."
Kimberly nodded and sat down to eat with Pete.
Rodrick hung up the phone and looked to the kitchen. Lyssa was cleaning the dinner dishes while Meghan on the floor close by playing with the new doll they'd bought for her.
"Sssst," he softly called out to her.
Lyssa looked over, "news?"
He shook his head sadly.
Lyssa walked carefully around Meghan and asked quietly," No family at all for her?"
Rodrick said quietly, "her dad was an orphan and the mother had been an only child, parents deceased ten years prior. Baby she doesn't have anybody to come for her."
Meghan came over and patted Rodrick's leg, "Lyss...a sad. Rod..rick, no sad."
He bent down and picked the little girl up and held her as he put his arm around Lyssa," It'll be ok sweetpea."
Lyssa leaned over and kissed Meghan's cheek, "I'll be ok."
Rodrick said, "Kimberly is gonna get some rest and first thing in the morning she'll start searching through the Army and Navy for suitable family for her. She'll focus on the Spec Ops community"
"Ok. That sounds like a really good idea," Lyssa said.
Meghan squirmed and twisted in Rodrick's arms and reached out to Lyssa who took her to hold.
"No sad Lyss...a. No sad," she said adamantly.
"ok Meghan, I won't be sad," Lyssa said.
Meghan squirmed more so Lyssa set her down only to have her hand seized by the child and led back into the kitchen. Meghan climbed up the stool and reached over the counter to pull a jar close then reached inside to bring out a cookie, offering it up to Lyssa.
Meghan said, "Lyss...a no sad. Cookie!"
Lyssa smiled, took the cookie, broke it in half and handed it back, "there. Now neither of us are sad."
She reached inside and handed another cookie to her," Rodrick looked sad too didn't he?"
Meghan clambered down holding the cookie carefully and ran to Rodrick holding it up, "Rod...rick. No sad!"
He chuckled as he picked her up then took the offered cookie and one-handed broke in half to share with her. Lyssa finished in the kitchen as Rodrick sat down on the couch and picked up the book he'd been reading to Meghan for the past few days. Within minutes he had her giggling and laughing as he invented different voices for the characters of the story. Lyssa smiled then joined them and took her turn reading the next chapter.
Three nights later Dannigan looked across from the young naval commander and his wife. His file was impressive in the SEAL community and now transferring to staff duty at the Pentagon as a SweatHog; the Navy's go-to group for answers. It was his wife that made them sought after, her younger sibling was a Down's child giving her the experience needed to care for Meghan.
"Commander this is a very delicate situation, with your background you understand this. Mrs. Haddoway certain things of this will be new to you, I can't reveal how the child came into our care only that her best interests are at the fore-front and utilizing normal channels and procedures are out of the question for her future,"Dannigan explained.
She didn't flinch, "I understand that Sir and I agree, the child's care should be the primary concern. You say her history can't be discussed; I accept that. I'm a SEAL wife Sir, I understand that sometimes questions don't always have answers."
Dannigan considered that then buzzed Madison," Send them in."
A moment later the door opened. Lyssa walked in holding Meghan's hand followed by Rodrick.
"This is Rodrick Mason. Commander that name may be familiar to you. He was on TEAM Four. He does me the occasional favor. I asked him and his fiance to take care of our young charge until my people found you," Dannigan introduced.
Amanda Haddoway did a double-take then her jaw dropped,"Oh my god. You're Lyssa Kordenay!"
Lyssa smiled,"Yes I am, hello."
Amanda smiled proudly, "I saw you dance in New York for Giselle. I used to dance when I was young."
That made Lyssa smile brightly, "well I'm glad you enjoyed it."
Lyssa then looked over at Dannigan as if he were something to found in the yard, "I may not appreciate strange calls in the middle of the night from mystery men but I couldn't say no to the circumstances. I'd prefer it doesn't become a habit. MISTER Dannigan."
"Consider it a favor I owe you Miss Kordenay. In fact I may incur another but I think you'd be happy to accommodate," Dannigan replied.
"hello. I'm Meghan," Meghan said brightly.
Amanda walked over and knelt down,"Hello Meghan, I'm Amanda."
The Commander crouched low as well, "hello Meghan, I'm Patrick."
She rewarded them both with a brilliant smile," ah-man-dah....Pat...rick."
she then looked from Patrick to Rodrick, "Rod...rick, Pat....rick."
Amanda said proudly," so very smart; and so pretty too."
Lyssa knelt down,"Meghan. Amanda and Patrick are very lonely for a girl like you. Would you like to go stay with them? They'd love to be a mommy and daddy for you."
"A new mommy and daddy," she asked trying to make sense of that in her mind.
Rodrick crouched low, "Oh they'll be great! They like to read stories and color pictures and have a yard to play in and teach you how to swim. You'll have lots of fun."
Meghan thought about that then looked at them, "Mommy? Daddy?"
Patrick smiled, "If you want us to be."
Meghan smiled then looked puzzled for a minute.
She walked around the desk and asked Dannigan, "Shadow. What about shadow?"
Dannigan looked into her eyes and smiled, "I'm sure shadow would like it if you went to a new mommy and daddy."
That answer satisfied Meghan, "ok Dan-gig-gan."
Meghan walked back around and hugged Amanda,"new Mommy."
"Let's get you home Meghan, if we hurry we'll be just in time for supper," Patrick said cheerfully.
Amanda told her,"Let's tell everybody bye and then we'll go home."
Meghan nodded then went over and hugged and kissed Lyssa then Rodrick and finally Dannigan," bye-bye."
"Miss Kordenay. That other favor; I'd like to purchase three front row tickets to your christmas performance for them," Dannigan said.
Lyssa nodded, "done. And you were right; I'm very happy to accommodate that."
"Goodbye sweetie, you'll see us again," Lyssa smiled for her.
Rodrick chimed in, "Yeah, you'll get to watch Lyssa dance in the big show for christmas."
Dannigan added,"Even Madison and I will be there little one."
Meghan clapped her hands,"Lyss..a dance!"
They all chuckled at her excitement.
"I'll make sure of the tickets personally,"Lyssa said.
They thanked her for that then both holding Meghan's hands walked out with the file holding the adoption papers and necessary background information to learn. Lyssa watched them leave from the window looking down.
"You ok with this," Dannigan asked.
"Its the right thing. They're far better suited for her than any of us. No egos, only what's best for Meghan," Lyssa admitted solemnly.
Rodrick added,"We'll miss her Paul but they'll be better for her than us. We're not ready to be parents yet, Meghan taught us that but when we are ready we'll be the best that can be for whoever we get lucky to have."
"You two are serious Alpha-types. But the fact you could take yourselves out of the equation and put that child first proves that you're the best,"Dannigan stated," you know; I miss that lil' imp already."
Lyssa turned back to the window as a tear rolled down her cheek, "so do I."
Outside the first flakes of snow had started to fall as the sun flashed its last light.
Book 24 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa may be gearing up for Christmas but she may have to gear up for other things too!! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa stood still in the darkened building and took a slow breath.
"You ready for this," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa nodded, "yeah. Now remember; beyond this point we'll be engaged."
Rodrick frowned, "any intel on their strength and affiliation?"
"Somewhere between a squad and a platoon. Definitely local. I know you're not trained for this kind of extract but its the only way to go," Lyssa reminded him.
Rodrick shouldered the bag and braced himself at the door, slightly to the side, "I'm just worried about how many ways this could go wrong."
"Ready? The zone is LIVE. Think fast, move with purpose and keep to the outside of their skirmish line. The perimeter is about as safe as it gets. Standby. On my mark," Lyssa instructed then adjusted the ribbon holding her hair in a ponytail, " GO!"
Rodrick popped the door open and Lyssa stepped out into the alley and immediately they were surrounded. Rodrick bolted backwards to the safety of the wall of the theater.
Lyssa smiled and strode forward, "well now. What have we here?"
The large group of ten to fifteen year old girls squealed in excitement and surged around her asking for autographs.
Lyssa laughed then waved her hands, "settle down. Settle down."
When they group calmed down enough she addressed them.
"Now now. This is hardly the way for aspiring Primas to behave," Lyssa playfully scolded them then said with a smile, "I'll be happy to sign whatever you brought and even take pictures with you, but let's be nice and form a line with the youngest girls first."
Rodrick shook his head. Jumping from high altitude, diving to possible equipment failure depths, slogging through swamps infested with various poisonous creatures, even storming middle-eastern villages full of insurgents was nothing compared to this. Being mobbed by adoring dance-wear clad little girls was something no SEAL had ever been trained for.
An hour and a half later the last girl posed with Lyssa for a picture then rushed away to meet her mother to leave happily.
"Looks like that's all of them. Let's go babe. We have a car to check out in the morning," Rodrick opened the door to the SUV.
Lyssa sighed, "I just want to eat and have a bubble-bath."
Elsewhere in Washington; a figure slipped under a paint splattered tarp on a rooftop and set up a rifle. Within moments the scope was dialed in for the target zone almost a kilometer away, a set of doors that only a select few used. Now was the waiting for one particular person.
Rodrick smirked as Lyssa slowly walked around the car letting her fingertips slide over its lines, her slender heels tapping sharply on the concrete apron of the track.
"As you can see Mr. Mason there's been several improvements; higher compression, fuel/air intake rate, exhaust release, torque, gear ratio, traction, micro adjustable suspension for finer tuning, reinforced composite body panels as opposed to single molded body, new lighter alloy frame," the engineer listed.
Rodrick watched Lyssa look under the raised hood then inside the passenger compartment.
He kept a poker-face, "think it should be tested Rob?"
The engineer gestured to the Ford GT," by all means Mr.Mason! The keys are in it and Jeff is out there to.....pace you."
Lyssa had slipped into the seat and plugged in her MP3 player then hit play; Matt Darey featuring Kate Smith singing See the Sun began to blare. She pulled the door turning the key then revved the engine twice and popped the clutch. Tires smoked and screeched as she roared onto the track in a controlled slide. Rodrick smiled as the engineer's eyes widened watching Lyssa, song blaring, sweep around a turn then take up a position beside the professional racer.
He shook his head and could just imagine her slide the pink shades down her nose then back up in challenge. They heard the engine pitch up twice more then shriek as both launched forward jockeying for the lead. Lyssa led into the next turn high then slipped gears, dropped behind and down then powered up again and launched herself around the smaller radius taking a greater lead. The race, the chase, WAS ON!
The professional racer apparently didn't care for such an unexpected manuever and closed in tight to the bumper. Lyssa forced him to slow as they prepared for another turn then cut across the apex; opening up taking the lead again. In the straight she gave him the opportunity to come around her but kept even with his back wheels, as if setting him up for a classic PIT manuever police used to make a pursuit car spin around, then drift back and come along his other side, taunting him by riding the blind spot then rocketed around in the next turn.
This continued for another five minutes and the other driver eased down into the pit area behind her.
He climbed out and pulled off his helmet, "Good Christ! Who the hell is that?"
Lyssa eased out of the car and stepped lightly over to Rodrick and purred to him.
"Baby; do you think you can somehow talk your friend there to dial up the air inflow a quarter after he advances the timing? Oh, and the right front needs to be a little softer. It felt like a brick on a rollerskate wheel," then she turned to the engineer, "does it come in a dark grey?"
It was all Rodrick could do not to laugh as he noticed the driver shift his helmet to hold in front of his groin then excused himself.
"I need a cup of coffee. Looks like the chick from the Lamborghini ads," the driver muttered walking off.
The engineer blinked then stammered out, "anything else Ma'am?"
Lyssa shrugged, "computer controlled suspension that can have presets. Adjustments made at the push of a button for each driver. Rodrick; myself, you get the idea. As opposed to having to make the adjustments manually taking almost half an hour. It can be for special edition models."
The engineer smacked himself in the forehead muttering, "why didn't I think of that? Be right back."
Lyssa turned and clasped her hands behind Rodrick's neck, "I really like NEW toys."
Rodrick looked down slightly, "sometimes I just can't take you anywhere."
Lyssa just giggled at him. Mornings were always fun
Late afternoon Madison walked in,"Major there's a call for you."
Dannigan nodded and picked up, "Dannigan."
"Hello Major. Its Singleton," General Singleton announced.
"How's the neice General," Dannigan asked.
Singleton paused, "She's fine Major, that's not why I'm calling. Its about Sam Whitacre."
Dannigan sat silently, Major General Samuel Whitacre was supposed to retire in a year, his current post as Commanding General of Special Forces. As a Colonel he'd been Dannigan's battalion commander as a green lieutenent. In fact before her great change-over Lyssa herself had been under Whitacre's personal command in Delta Force's off the books DemonWraith platoon.
He smiled at the memory, "Whipsnap Whitacre?"
"He's dead Branton," Singleton said bluntly.
Dannigan almost dropped the phone.
"I've been promoted to Major General and the post of CG of Special Forces," Singleton said.
"Commanding General. Its in good hands then Sir. Tall boots to fill but nobody better than you in the pipeline for it," Dannigan said, "I gotta know. How'd he buy it? I thought he had meetings at the Pentagon all week."
"A Goddamn rifle shot walking from his car to the door, almost a kilometer out; two hours ago," Singleton told him.
"HOLY FUCK," He exclaimed causing Madison to drop the coffee refill for him in the doorway.
She looked up and was about to apologize but Dannigan waved it off and covered the mouthpiece, "Get Lyssa and Rodrick, tell them to get here now. Everything goes on hold until this is done."
"Branton; I take from the sound of a fumbling hand over the receiver you're telling your staff to pull out all stops and get their collective shit wired," Singleton surmised.
Dannigan replied angrily, "Guessed fuckin' right....Sir."
Singleton paused for a moment then said, "Officially; I have no idea who the fuck you are and I have the wrong number because dead men don't answer the phone. Unofficially; this call isn't happening. Personally; you and your people watch your asses. There isn't an agency in the government that's not on this. Do what you all do BEST! Stay unknown and set the head of whomever is responsible on a pike in front of the main gate. The funeral will be two days from now."
Dannigan growled, "you'll have heads General. You'll HAVE them. WE WILL NOT FAIL!"
Madison was already calling and got Lyssa on the first ring, "Hey whatever you two are doing, drop everything and get here now! Something's happened, I don't know what but its bad so hurry!"
She didn't wait for acknowledgement and disconnected.
"MADISON. GET KIMBERLY ON THE LINE," Dannigan shouted.
She didn't bother to answer, just dialed the hangar office in the Bahamas.
Kimberly answered," Hangar Office."
"Hold for the Major," Madison stated then transferred to his phone calling out,"She's on the line."
Dannigan snatched up the phone, "Kimberly drop everything. now! General Samuel Whitacre was assassinated at the Pentagon two hours ago. Do what you do best; FIND 'EM!"
"Yes Sir," Kimberly snapped.
He disconnected then searched the newsfeeds and pulled up the Pentagon's security bulletin system. Nobody was talking about it at all. he found the DIA,CID scramble orders. Those were pretty straightforward; locate and liquidate. Somebody had even went all old school and included; EXTERMINATE WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE in the orders. Lyssa and Rodrick came barreling into the office fifteen minutes later.
"Sit," Dannigan said gruffly then looked directly at Lyssa, "Whipsnap Whitacre is dead Lyssa; rifle shot outside the Pentagon just over two hours ago."
Lyssa gaped then stammered," wha....how....do we know anything?"
"I've got Kimberly burning up everything right now. If anybody can get something fast; its her. That's not the problem. The problem is everybody and their brother wants in but they aren't gonna get 'em. Kimberly WILL find them and I'm sending YOU after 'em. Darrell Singleton was made CG of Special Forces," Dannigan told her.
Lyssa looked said,"Good man I hear."
Dannigan nodded,"he is. I know him personally. He'll do things right, but for now he wants US to find a way to get ahead of everybody else and take out these assholes."
Lyssa nodded grimly and stood up as did Rodrick, together they walked out.
Lyssa stopped and looked back from the doorway, "Eric Tinnington is the CG of SAS, he and Whipsnap worked together in an exchange...Delta and Pagoda. He should know about the funeral."
Dannigan nodded, he too knew the Special Air Service General having spent some exchange time with the vaunted Pagoda troop of SAS. He pulled out a small book and searched it then dialed a number which was answered on the second ring.
"MacTaggart," the phone was answered.
"Any whiskey left in the kingdom you great lush," Dannigan asked bluntly.
"Nay! Nary a drop left you old cur," the Scotsman chuckled, "how are ya there Paul?"
Dannigan sighed, "had better days Sean, I need a favor."
MacTaggart said casually, "name it."
"Sean how close are you with General Eric Tinnington," he asked.
MacTaggart laughed, "close enough he owes me twenty pounds. What do you need from him?"
"Five minutes on a private phone,"Dannigan said.
Sean MacTaggart replied, "aye; that I can do. Sounds important, hold on."
Minutes later another voice came on the phone, "Yes?"
"General Tinnington," Dannigan asked.
The General confirmed, "Yes. Major Dannigan is it?"
"Yes Sir. I'm sorry to give you very bad news General. General Sam Whitacre has been killed. Assassinated outside the Pentagon. I knew you were friends Sir. The funeral is in two days. I'm sure somebody else may call you to inform but I wanted you to know," Dannigan informed him.
The General sighed, "damn bloody shame. Top notch man Sam was. Major am I to presume that you personally will see to a bit of rubbish removal?"
Dannigan said flatly," take care General. I'll trust you to be discreet about the call," then disconnected.
Tinnington passed the phone back to the gruff colonel, "thanks Sean. Good friend you got there."
The big Scot shifted in the chair, "That he is but I suspect what he had to tell you wasn't pleasant."
Tinnington lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair, "You remember Sam Whitacre don't you?"
MacTaggart leaned back and chuckled, "that old gin guzzler? Aye I do."
"He's dead. Damn bloody shame, wasn't even in combat," Tinnington lamented.
"Got along well with the lads didn't he," MacTaggart asked.
"Ours and his," Tinnington confirmed, "what about that one of yours? Dannigan was it?"
MacTaggart chuckled, "oh he's a fair vicious one Paul Dannigan is. Everyone wants him under their flag until he goes to work then they want to be shot of him double quick."
That surprised Tinnington, "How so?"
"Oh make no mistake. For quiet operations of a highly compact unit; there's none better for counter operations. More than a fair hand at being pro-active but he tends to be more than a bit of a maverick as the Yanks say," MacTaggart commented.
"What's he up to these days," Tinnington asked.
"Fair question. Something tells me if asked the whole lot will say 'Dannigan who'. The last I heard he'd dropped out of sight," MacTaggart said.
Tinnington considered that then said, "All the same, let's get some of the acquainted lads together for the funeral. Be a poor showing if we didn't bid a proper farewell. Perhaps the Scot Dragoons could come along, the old boy deserves a grand sendoff."
MacTaggart grinned, "Aye General that he does, I'll make some calls."
CHAPTER 2
Kimberly sifted through data using two computers then added her own laptop to the effort. Pete had sat down to help watch video footage while she sorted out message traffic.
"whoa! Hold up there," Pete said then tried to reverse the feed.
"What'd you see Pete," she asked then looked over.
"Looked like somebody carrying a trombone or a rifle case. I need to back up and zoom in. I don't know how," Pete said.
Kimberly backed up the footage to the point he wanted then zoomed in and replayed at half speed. A man carrying a long case was coming out of a building along the trajectory line. Kimberly noted the time then checked active cellphones at the location then started tracking all phones for five minutes then used traffic cam footage to verify the owners of the phones and checked license plates and found it. She ran it and found the address.
Kimberly's fingers flew over the keyboard as she broke through the cyber defenses of holding companies and cross-referencing intelligence agencies and came up with the file. A north Korean.
Kimberly checked every database she could find and hit pay dirt, a sniper but no longer in service. Something was off with the guy. Kimberly kept at it until she came up with a payment to an account under his name. From Dubai to Zurich. The Dubai account was held by a Lebanese currently posted to the consulate in Washington,D.C.
Kimberly compiled all the data and sent it then called Madison.
"Madison. I found him! Call Lyssa and Rodrick and anybody else that needs to know," Kimberly said quickly.
Dannigan jumped on the line, "Kimberly are you sure you got him? You have to be dead on."
"I all but drew cross-hairs on his file photo and strung Christmas lights on the house," Kimberly said proudly.
"Good job, rerouting the packet to Lyssa now. Find out why though. This can't be a wild hair up the ass of some goofball," Dannigan ordered.
"Yes Major; if its there I'll find it," Kimberly assured him then disconnected and went back to her searching.
Rodrick disconnected from the call from Dannigan,"We got a green light."
Lyssa walked in carrying the two Car-15 assault rifles and passed him one and the bag of magazines for it. Rodrick snapped a full magazine into the well then used a clip to secure an additional magazine to it. Seven more went into the pouches of his tactical vest. He'd already loaded up with the Colt Delta 10mm and additional magazines along with his dive knife and garrot then finished out with fragmentation, concussion, incendiary and flashbang grenades.
Lyssa had geared with her usual twin Jericho .40 cal automags and the small hideaway pistol in her boot along with the Marauder knife in its sheath at the back of her thigh, the Fairbarn-Sikes knife in the strap of her harness then added her assortment of grenades as well. Finally Lyssa slid two microsyrettes into her boot then passed two to Rodrick then they went out to the car. He drove them to the house Kimberly had indicated in her report.
"Comm check," Rodrick keyed his throat-mic.
"Five by five,"Lyssa confirmed.
"Five by five,"Rodrick acknowledged of her.
He quickly painted on his facial camo pattern then looked to Lyssa who already wore her swirl of stripes masking her beautiful face. Silently they approached the house from opposite sides. a slim piece of spring steel slipped the window latch after she carefully checked for alarms. Slowly she slid the window up some and felt inside. a thin wire had been attached to the window.
"One to Two. Be advised; window here wired old school," she informed him.
Lyssa used a nightvision monocular and visually traced the thin wire and saw two sets of cans. One set would make noise if the line went slack. The other set would make noise if the line pulled too far, dragging them off a support.
"Watch out. Dual action rattlers on the spider wire," Lyssa whispered.
"Copy that," Rodrick whispered back on the opposite side of the house.
They crawled room to room downstairs then up the stairs. Lyssa disarmed the three tripwires to grenades on the staircase. Rodrick followed close behind then checked the opposite side of the hallway.
Rodrick waved to her in combat sign language, "enemy seen".
Using her knees, elbows and toes Lyssa slithered her body to the doorway and peered around it into the room. Silently they both moved in and closed to the man sleeping in the chair. His eyes flew open to feel two pistols pressed upward under his chin.
Rodrick said,"wake up dumbass, you're in the deepest shit there ever was."
The sniper looked at them blankly, "So. I have been found."
His English was perfect.
Lyssa hissed coldly, "yes and here is where you end."
They both pulled their triggers shooting up through his skull and blowing the top of his head out. Rodrick stood up and made to pull the body from the chair but Lyssa stopped him.
"No. Leave him as he is. Snap his neck," Lyssa said cautiously.
Rodrick looked at her in puzzlement then reached and snapped his neck in a loud crackle. Lyssa pulled the Marauder and sliced through the flesh then yanked hard pulling the head away. She stuffed it carefully into a bag.
"Let's go. We have one more stop to make. Bring his rifle," She whispered.
Rodrick nodded and took the rifle from its case then followed Lyssa with her grizzly trophy back through the window out into the quiet night.
Dannigan clenched his fist, "damn good. They got him."
He double checked the latest report from Kimberly. The Lebanese was still located at the apartment in Alexandria, not alone either. Lyssa had the address via a text message. He considered calling the general but decided against it, he'd wait a little longer.
The Pentagon had finally released to report of General Whitacre's death. Many were saddened by the news, everybody else was angry. Those that knew the full circumstances were beyond furious, word around the Hill was when the President had been told he'd flown into a rage and threw all the press out of the White House. Good thing too, it kept the press focused on him and off the military for a few hours.
All high ranking officers were now using a protected entrance now to enter and exit the Pentagon. A strong message was being sent out tonight; Nobody takes out a General on U.S. soil. As for the Pentagon, Kimberly was watching their progress by monitoring databases, they were currently twenty hours behind her thanks to Homeland security throwing everybody off track for five hours.
Things like that happened when every agency thought they knew who did it and badgering to take the lead. The Joint Chiefs finally shut all that down by figuratively throwing out all civilian agencies. As of early evening the only agencies currently tasked to the investigation were Army CID, DIA and NSA. The listeners in England picked up that the Commanding General of Special Air Service had issued a scramble order for a hand picked detachment to accompany him overseas and also took charge of the Scottish Dragoons for the trip.
Dannigan smiled at that, Scottish Dragoons were a contingent of bagpipe and drum players for ceremonial events. That pretty much answered any possible question about the relationship between Whitacre and Tinnington; not just acquiantances. They truly were friends. Friends with alot of respect between them. Madison lingered at her desk pretending to work, she never liked situations that required her to do literally nothing but wait. He had gotten used to that shortly after Lyssa went operational.
The secret to bliss was pick the best and make sure they had everything they needed to get the job done right the first time then turn them loose to do it. Micro-management was the detriment to any operation. Lyssa and Rodrick were perfect together, both on and off mission. No other agency could claim to having such a team and he was glad they were his every single day.
An update from Kimberly came through; DIA were now closely checking license plate to all vehicles within a two block radius of the sniper's nest. An instant message from Lyssa came through fifteen minutes later; they were on station at secondary location. he turned up the volume of his speakers as Madison came in and watched the big screen on the wall with the house layout.
Ahmad smiled coldly watching the newscaster reporting the death of the General. Finally his father had been avenged. Tomorrow the replacement would be killed the same way, the Korean would definitely earn his pay but that was nothing, he'd been accruing the money for years to pay for revenge. He laughed to himself as he poured the imported water into his glass. He looked to the hallway and saw one of his security men walking by that gave him a nod that all was well.
Not even the Embassy knew that for his personal security he had brought in Hammal gunners. they were patrolling the house and grounds, each carried a pistol and AK-47. He was perfectly safe though. No one knew about him, not even his own Embassy knew about his agenda. He chuckled to himself softly. he'd struck the heart of the americans in front of their fortress. He'd do it again as he flew back to Lebanon.
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa moved silently through the hedges inside the decorative fence then crawled across the yard in the shadow of a tall tree that stretched to the house. The smell of cigarette smoke betrayed the guard at the far corner. He crushed the concealed cigarette and pocketed the butt then slowly started walking back toward the front of the house. Lyssa rose up silently and drew the Marauder from the back of her leg. The triple click from Rodrick didn't even distract her as she simultaneously clamped her left hand of the man's mouth and thrust the knife blade into his head in the notch between jaw and base of skull.
A muffled grunt was all the sound he made then stilled after a quick twist of the blade sliced his brain killing him. She wiped the blade clean on his shoulder and gave Rodrick a triple click of her mic.
"Multiple movement inside,"Rodrick whispered.
"Target status," she whispered.
He whispered back,"unknown. I have access. ground floor."
Lyssa tested the lattice work against the wall, it seemed to take her weight.
"Standby. proceeding to second floor exterior," she replied then carefully climbed up and crawled to a window.
The window latch gave easily and slid up slowly.
"I have access on second floor. Make entry," she ordered then slithered inside.
The room across the hall was occupied by two men sleeping. She leveled both her pistols at their heads, she'd already attached the supressors and triggered of a single shot each. Quickly she used her knife to widen the wounds and pull the slugs out with pliers and picked up the shell casings. A quick check of the other rooms then she slowly slithered down the stairs.
A brightly lit kitchen was at the end of the hallway and a room that was mostly dark but flickers of light came from it. Obviously someone sat watching tv in the dark. She could barely hear voices so they were being cautious about the noise levels. A shadow moved beside the front door. Lyssa closed in moving along the wall.
He turned just as she moved up close so Lyssa struck hard punching him in the throat then grabbed his head and twisted hard. His neck vertebrae gave with a sickening crackle, then slowly slumped to the floor guided by her hand clamped over his nose and mouth. A shattered larnyx prevented him from voicing his death as his paralysis kept him from struggling. She triple clicked again.
Rodrick answered, "only the dark room and basement left."
Lyssa whispered, "copy. Proceed to dark room."
They took positions on the floor either side of the door then crawled in on her nod. The lone man in the chair was chuckling to himself watching the news report of the General's death when he felt the hard muzzle of Rodrick's Colt press to his head.
"Dumb-fuck gets wasted in Alexandria. Film at eleven," Rodrick said softly.
"I am a member of the Lebanese Consulate; protected by diplomatic immunity," he said smugly as if he had pulled the ultimate joke.
"Not from us,"Lyssa hissed.
Ahmad's eyes widened as a wicked looking knife appeared in front of him.
"The Vienna Convention states...." he sputtered but couldn't finish.
Lyssa had sliced through his throat. He grasped at his neck trying to stop the blood from gushing out. She shoved his hands out of the way and used the knife more until the blade scraped bone.
Lyssa leaned in close and said with a hiss, "Past the gates and before the Devil's throne, I've been to Hell; they're gonna love you."
Rodrick reached and savagely twisted the Lebanese man's head snapping the neck bones then yanked hard ripping it free of the body. The separated head was placed into a bag. Silently they left through the window Rodrick came in through and backtracked to the SUV three blocks away.
Lyssa called Dannigan, "We're done."
"Outstanding," Dannigan answered.
"Two heads and the rifle," she listed, "where do you want them?"
Dannigan asked, "think you can mount them at the main gate of the Pentagon?"
Lyssa sat quietly for a minute then stated, "gee you don't ask fucking much."
"How about Ft.Mead instead," he proposed.
She mulled that over then agreed, "That we can do. Tell Kim to fix the cameras. Call you shortly."
Rodrick stopped at a pile of debris along the roadside and grabbed two branches. In a dark lot he sharped both ends of the two sticks while the call was made to Kimberly. He then followed Lyssa close enough to the main gate and jammed the sticks into the ground. Lyssa slammed the heads onto the spiked tops and leaned the rifle against the Korean's head. As fast as they could they ran back to the empty parking lot and left using side streets. Lyssa called Dannigan back and reported their task complete.
General Singleton answered the ringing phone angrily, "You have no idea the deep shit you're in...."
"General this is Colonel Davies; CID. There's been an incident Sir at the main gate," a voice replied.
"I'm on my way," Singleton growled and hung up.
Moment's later he walked outside in BDU's and jump boots, a Humvee with driver waited at the curb. The Sergeant saluted and started to open the door.
"Never mind that Sergeant; its too early for bullshit...let's go," the general remarked.
"HOO-AAH Sir," The sergeant replied and ran around to jump behind the wheel.
In less than five minutes they arrived to the main gate and brightly lit area just outside it. He bailed out before it came to a stop. Several soldiers working in the area stopped and saluted as he passed.
Someone called out, "ATTENTION!"
"AS YOU WERE," Singleton barked out, "Where's colonel Davies?"
A man in an Army sweatshirt and jeans came forward then saluted him, "General."
Singleton returned the salute angrily, "the fuck is so all fired up important it can't wait til morning?"
The colonel pointed off to the side, "that Sir..."
The General looked over and saw two heads mounted on sticks with a rifle leaning against one.
"General that rifle is one of the possibles that killed General Whitacre. It may even be the one that did," The colonel reported.
Singleton stared hard at the grizzly scene and bit back a smile. Dannigan and his people made good. REAL DAMN GOOD!
"I don't mean to tell you your business colonel but get this squared away and confirm about the rifle. I want a copy of the report before you go before the Joint Chiefs," Singleton ordered.
"Yes Sir. Whoever did this was good; in and out under thirty seconds. The camera's got nothing and the dogs lost the scent across the road. We got nothing on whoever did this,"Davies ground out angrily.
Singleton looked around as if trying to decide on what to do then said, "verify if that rifle is a match that's about all that can be done for now and follow whatever procedures pertain Colonel, cases don't close just because we think they got resolved!"
Davies nodded,"Yes Sir!"
General Singleton addressed the area at large, "Carry on people. Do what you do best!"
Everyone in the group sounded off, "HOO-AAH!"
The General asked a cigarette from a young enlisted off to the side then waved the driver of his Humvee to wait. He pulled a cellphone from his pocket after he lit the cigarette and dialed Dannigan's number.
"Hello, how may I help you," Madison answered.
"Seems like everybody has insomnia tonight. It's General Singleton; put me through to the Major young lady," He said.
Dannigan came on the line, "Not even twenty-fours hours on the job and you're already losing sleep, You need to learn how to delegate things General."
Singleton growled, "very funny wise-ass. Is everything going to be confirmed?"
Dannigan replied, "if they stay on task and not get sidetracked it will."
"Good, hopefully your people will stay invisible Major," Singleton said.
"We had a five minute window to get in and out. They're clear," Dannigan stated.
"Out-fucking-standing," Singleton remarked.
"If you don't screw around you can get a nap in before PT, sleep fast General. Good night," Dannigan commented.
Singleton disconnected and pocketed the phone.
"Let's go Sergeant,"he said climbing into the Humvee.
It was a little after four am, he might as well get his day started.
Chapter 4
"That's it Madison....take the day off get some rest," Dannigan told her carrying his coat and briefcase and locked his office door.
She looked very tired as she grabbed her purse and coat and preceeded him to the elevator. They rode down and left. Her eyes were threatening to roll back into her head as she pulled into the assigned parking space at her apartment building. Silently she thanked being able to make it home without any problems as she walked to the elevator. It was almost five am, still dark out so falling asleep wouldn't be a problem.
Madison was so focused on herself that she almost missed the soft sounds. At first she thought it might be a stray animal looking for refuge from the cold night. She stopped walking to listen and heard better, a person. Madison walked over to the other side and saw a woman close to her own age sitting on the floor crying.
"hey. What happened? are ok," She asked stepping closer.
The young woman looked up and revealed a swollen bruised eye and dried blood from her nose. Madison saw her injuries and looked around carefully for strangers but saw none.
"Oh my god. Who did this to you,"she asked.
"H..he took my purse....I tried to stop him but he hit me when I wouldn't let go. I couldn't see and fell down and he just hit me again and again," the woman sobbed.
Madison debated for a moment who to call then dialed 911. Luckily there was a car in the area and showed up within minutes. The officers took the woman's statement and took photos. An ambulance crew declared her injuries not severe enough to warrant a trip to the emergency room.
Aspirins and ice packs were the recommendations by the female paramedic, along with a day off. The older officer passed her a flyer for a women's group that offered free self-defense course. Madison offered to take her up to her own apartment to clean up. She nodded and followed her up in the elevator.
Madison cleaned the blood away then made an icepack and gave it to her after calling the building manager. He came by after twenty minutes and dropped off a new key saying he had taken the initiative of changing the locks for her own safety. Madison exchanged introductions, her guest turned out to be named Kristi and lived on the floor above.
"Madi? Maybe I need a gun. I don't know anything about guns," She said.
Madison contained her look of shock, "actually I don't know anything about guns either."
Technically that was the truth, the only she knew about guns were from the forms of requistion she occasionally filed for Lyssa and Rodrick's resupply drops. That worried her, everybody else constantly carried weapons. They were all former military with the exception of herself, Dannigan had recruited her straight out of college for her skills of office management and international studies.
She'd never been hurt before. Violence toward her was something she'd never considered and seeing Kristi being randomly targeted frightened her. The fact that it could easily have been her didn't go unnoticed and frightened her even more. Kristi thanked her and went back to her own apartment. Now alone with her thoughts Madison remembered details from Lyssa's after action reports along with reports from investigators which included many very graphic photos. The video of the secretary from Columbia flashed in excrutiating detail to the forefront.
Madison never felt fear like that before, she was actually terrified and knew it. Only one person she knew might not laugh at such fear; Lyssa. Lyssa could joke and tease anybody in ways that never stung but for the most part she was a very serious person that respected feelings of people. Her reaction to having kill the secretary had genuninely surprised Madison. Until she saw that she'd merely thought Lyssa no longer felt remorse for such things.
After a few minutes debate she sent Lyssa a text message,"I want to learn how to protect myself. Will you help me?"
She was suprised when Lyssa called her back immediately.
"What's wrong, are you ok," Lyssa asked and didn't sound as sleepy as Madison felt.
"I thought you would be sleeping,I'm sorry Lyssa," Madison said.
"No not yet, Rodrick had an overseas call so I took a bubblebath waiting. I'm still waiting,"Lyssa said," that's not important. You sound scared Madison, do I need to come over there?"
"No. A girl in my complex was attacked in the garage this morning," Madison replied," Lyssa, it could have been me. I am scared. I've never been scared before. Not like this Lyssa, will you teach me how to protect myself? how to fight. Maybe shoot too?"
Lyssa was quiet for a few moments then answered, "ok Madison, come out this afternoon and we see about getting you sorted out."
"Thank you Lyssa,"Madison sighed.
"Try to get some sleep Madi. Its ok that you called; in fact I'm suprised you were hesitant to ask. You're one of us Madison and we take care of our own," Lyssa said matter-of-factly.
Madison thanked her again then disconnected. She felt more reassured when she went to bed.
Dannigan wandered back in just afternoon and checked his message traffic, a police report filed about a mugging and assault caught his eye. Madison's apartment building. He read the report and was relieved. Madison wasn't the victim but had been an after-event witness. She was a brilliant and, more importantly loyal secretary, but she wasn't military. In fact she was the only one that hadn't been recruited from the services. She had no training at all to protect herself, that was something to be addressed soon. The problem was how to address the issue delicately to her. Perhaps Lyssa could take her to task. He made a mental note of that as he left the office.
Madison answered the door after hearing the gentle knocking and saw Kristi.
"Hi Madison. Did you have plans," she asked.
"I'm going to see a friend later on," Madison answered.
Kristi said," oh. A friend from work told me about a gun store. They will teach safety and all that for free if you buy a gun from them. Its two-hundred dollars if you just want the classes. Could you give me a ride?"
"Sure," Madison answered and grabbed her purse and things.
Fifteen minutes later they walked into the store and immediately felt out of place.
"Good afternoon ladies. How can I help you," an older man with a handlebar mustache and camouflage vest asked.
Kristi said rather timidly, "May I look at some guns please."
His eyes immediately locked to the bruises on her face and his expression turned a bit stern,"That happen before Miss?"
She turned away slightly in embarrassment and shook her head.
Madison spoke up, "She was attacked and mugged in our garage this morning."
The salesman replied, "I see. Right this way ladies. Over here are some items that are more towards a woman's defense. Pistols yes and also some effective but non-lethal items; Pepper spray with dye-marker, stun-guns."
They looked at the case but Kristi had settled it for herself and looked down at the end to the small pistols.
A younger man stepped over,"how can I help you ladies?"
Kristi spoke up, "I wanted to see guns but I don't know anything about them, I need to take the class too."
"Not a problem, I can definitely hook you up," he said with a smile.
Several pistols were lain on the counter and he explained their relevance. Finally he showed them a Glock 19 that had been outfitted with a laser sight.
"Can't go wrong with this. Very simple, you use a proper firing grip and that turns on the Crimson Trace laser; whatever the little red dot is on is what you'll hit. Simple to use, even the special operations guys use them and not very costly," He said.
Madison wracked her brain trying to remember Lyssa requesting Crimson Trace sights but drew a blank. The only sights she remembered right off hand were Trijicon. She was about to ask then remembered she wasn't supposed to know anything and kept her mouth shut. The salesman asked about her and she politely declined. Kristi purchased the Glock with the laser sights and signed up for the complimentary courses for women.
Madison dropped her off back at the complex and drove out to Lyssa's beach house.
Rodrick answered the door while on the phone talking in french looking fairly aggravated. Madison went down stairs into the basement indicated by him and froze. Madison had never really walked into a room and felt immediately frightened. She did now as she saw Lyssa standing in front of a long bench. She looked at the various pistols laid out and spotted Glock similar to that one she'd seen at the store.
"Glock 23 generation 4," Lyssa noticed she had focused on it," .40 cal semi-automatic made of ABS resin mostly. A smart girl can carefully conceal the remaining metal components in her luggage on trips but you really don't need to know how to go about that. It's Austrian made and very reliable."
"what about Crimson Trace sights," Madison asked.
"What about them," Lyssa asked her.
"Are they really good? Special Operations uses them? Should I get them," Madison asked rapidly.
Lyssa looked puzzled for a moment then answered, "They do good for what they are. No we don't and its a waste of money in your case."
Madison looked puzzled.
Lyssa sighed, "Special Operations doesn't use laser sights as often as people think, that's hollywood. Particles in the air will reveal the beam and then bang, operator is dead, because the position has been compromised. Trust me Madi; lasers look cool but that's it. Just looks."
Madison seemed somewhat put off now, "Sales guy lied."
Lyssa arched an eyebrow so Madison explained.
"Don't sweat it. Probably a good thing for your friend to have the sights. You'll spend more time at the range than her and be better at it. Rodrick and I use Trijicon sights. I'm sure the Major does too. Those are very common for Operators," Lyssa showed her a set.
"I was going ask to about that," Madison remarked.
"No biggie. They're self illuminating sight for use in low-light conditions, you'll become familiar with them," Lyssa explained.
Lyssa handed her the automatic and a magazine then led her back up. Two hours later Madison was hitting the target in an appropriate area then paid close attention to Lyssa and Rodrick both as they demostrated some hand-to-hand techniques that really worked to 'persuade any aggressors that she should very much be left alone'. She had to laugh at that comment.
They each taught her one hand-to-hand killing move and the rest of her lesson consisted of techinques to incapacitate and/or cripple an attacker. By dinnertime Madison's confidence was back to normal though Lyssa and Rodrick both warned her of over-confidence and its pitfall.
Several people stood at a distance in various points of the cemetery. Operators he guessed. MacTaggart nudged him with an elbow slightly and nodded to a group of people standing under a tree far away.
"Dannigan," he whispered.
Tinnington nodded subtly. Dannigan and his people saluted as the shots were fired at the end of the song then turned and walked away as the casket lowered into the earth. Respects had been paid as farewells were made both silently and formally to the passed General who had been known for fighting for the welfare of the troops above all else, often quoted, "The men get the best or we all do without to see to it they do!"
*** Special salutes go out to ALL our fallen. They have paid that ultimate price for us and should never be forgotten. Also a special nod to my own paternal grandmother. She never saw military service, she was a simple farm woman. Once when I was child she accompanied us to Florida on vacation. At Epcot center we encountered bagpipe players who asked if anyone had a request from their top ten. My grandmother asked for Amazing Grace. They replied it was number one and happily played it. To this day whenever I hear it played by bagpipes I remember the smile she had when she heard it. I learned a lot from my grandmothers. At Nana's knee I was taught duty, honor and conviction. At Grandma's I learned to do things simply and have fun when I can. I love and miss them both. Part of this story goes out to them as well. ***
Book 25 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa is dancing the Nutcracker in Washington though not everyone is a fan!! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers. |
CHAPTER1
Kimberly worked at her computer sifting through raw intel reports. Everybody was gearing for the holidays and that put them all on high alert. The problem was there was a lot of holiday chatter getting in the way but she had to sift through it all. Terrorists moved up timetables to work within the gap created in the workload for those going home. She herself and Pete would spend three days in the Washington area for Christmas. Her voice lessons and facial surgery went flawlessly. No one would recognize her the Major assured her. that was good because her face had been plastered all over the media months ago when she pulled a stunt that slammed several high ranking generals and various others in the army. None of which no longer served officially but did the occasional consult working for civilian contractors now.
Kimberly now worked for a highly classified intelligence agency doing what she still did best. intelligence analysis. The big difference now was she no longer got screened information, all the data she got was raw. unfiltered. CIA, DIA, DOD, DOJ, State Department and many many more. No agency was off limits to her. The mainframe she utilized was hidden somewhere in the western U.S. Lyssa was the sharp end of the spear and Kimberly determined where it should go.
"Hey Kim. I'm going into Nassau. Wanna come along," Pete asked leaning into the office.
She thought about it for a moment then answered, "sure. I need to get out some."
Pete walked down to the Bell helicopter and went through his pre-flight then started the turbines after Kimberly sat in the co-pilot's seat.
His voice came over the static, "We can do a little Christmas shopping before heading north. I gotta get Rod something cool this year because last year he out did himself."
"what did he get you last year,"Kimberly asked.
"a sixty inch plasma with a year of satellite tv paid," He smiled.
Kimberly laughed at that. Pete was a former Marine and a die-hard sports fanatic so the package made total sense to her.
She thought about it then asked, "that is something. What to get for Lyssa and Rodrick?"
Pete made a course correction before replying, "yeah. What to get for them? They have damn near everything and then Madison. What to get for her that won't be taken the wrong way if she has a boyfriend? Does she have a boyfriend?"
Kimberly laughed, "No she's single Pete and I think anything you get her would go over well."
Pete glanced over, "what would you recommend, you talk to her a lot."
"You should get her something that can only be found in the Caribbean. I know; a painting. Lighthouse or a seascape or sailboats. Something local."
Pete thought about that. It seemed like a good idea. The flight went quickly and they hurried to the art galleries to look at the paintings from local artists.
Rodrick shifted in the seat watching the final dress rehearsal when a seat squeaked behind him.
"Always takes your breath away to watch her dance, doesn't she," Dannigan asked.
"Words can't describe. If only time would stand still and she could dance forever. I think that would make her really happy," Rodrick replied.
Dannigan chuckled, "More than you or I would ever know."
Rodrick watched quietly for a few more moments then asked, "By the way, how'd you sneak in here?"
"I flashed Secret Service creditials," Dannigan laughed.
Rodrick laughed as well. The Secret Service had been nosing around at all hours for the past week in preparation for opening night due to the First family attending along with several other important attendees, including one of the British crowned Princes even though his security would be handled by known MI-6 Operators.
"Its kinda funny,"Rodrick commented," The very agency that the President has been going nuts to find out about will be in the next box."
Dannigan snickered, "I've learned to take life's little ironies in stride. What time will Pete and Kimberly get in?"
"Tomorrow around noon-ish," Rodrick answered.
Dannigan patted Rodrick on his shoulder, "See you all tomorrow night."
Rodrick waved over his shoulder, "Later Paul. Don't forget to bring toys."
Dannigan laughed at that, Lyssa traditionally had a box set up in the lobby during the production for toys to be donated to an orphanage randomly selected in whatever city she danced in for Christmas and would deliver them personally on Christmas eve wearing her Sugar Plum Doll costume. The Secret Service demanded the box be removed due to the Presidential visit but she gave them a very hard look then had two stage hands bring out bigger boxes each and pointed at them.
She coldly demanded, "Fill those up and shut up. I dance, people donate, kids have Christmas. No exceptions, fuck with me and I'll have the President's courtesy ticket pulled and see to it that the blame falls on you and your team."
Rodrick had been sitting on the stairs listening and it took all he had not to roll down them laughing. A call from the President ended with a compromise. an Agent with canine dressed as "Santa with a reindeer" would be stationed at the boxes. Lyssa finally walked up the aisle dressed to leave so Rodrick stood and walked out with his arm around her waist.
Several paparazzi waited at the stage door and took pictures as they exited. They weren't surprised. The attendee list was A-list; diplomats and Washington society therefore photographers were to be expected. A woman stepped up and introduced herself as being from the Washington Post and asked for a moment for comment. Lyssa nodded. Questions were asked, all pertaining to the production and how she felt working with director and Choreographer, the costumers, the musicians and also a quick comparison to previous productions of The Nutcracker she'd danced for.
Lyssa was very impressed with the professionalism of the impromptu interview and even offered a photo of the cast in costume for the article and named the prominent characters as well but when asked about the VIP attendees she sidestepped the question easily directing to her tradition of the toy donation. The journalist thanked Lyssa for her time and comments also stating that she looked forward to attending the performance.
The dark man thought to himself, how could these people deal with such cold? And for such a long duration too? Otumawa preferred the hot climate of his home country in Africa but his mission brought him to America. He'd spent hours watching videos of ballet to understand it. Mogadishu had no such arts there. He now understood The Nutcracker was a Christmas story about a girl's dream set in the Victorian era. He wasn't a christian so Christmas wasn't something he practiced though he understood it was supposed to be a time of sharing but had been corrupted by western society into more of a time of decadent spending and posturing.
It didn't matter to him, all he cared about was the American President's refusal to release Somali warriors they had dubbed terrorists. Jailed in Guantanamo Bay for aiding Al Queda, a commercial ship had been hijacked but Navy SEALs had rescued the crew and killed the hijackers. Now He would assassinate the American President for not releasing them. The performance itself wouldn't be his opportunity to strike but the celebration after would be.
Killing the First Family would send a clear enough message. He'd practiced with the specially made gun and bullets. Completely undetectable by metal detectors and until fired by explosive detectors too. He had four shots to kill them all. Then the American government would have to obey.
CHAPTER 2
Madison stood in front of the mirror wearing the evening gown. After getting Kimberly and Pete settled in the Georgetown safe house she'd hurried home to start getting ready for the night. Her Sable brown hair looked striking against the red gown Lyssa had picked out for her. A black cloak instead of a coat would keep her warm.
Major Dannigan had arranged for a limo to pick her up along with Kimberly and Pete. Dannigan himself would be arriving on his own and Lyssa and Rodrick had to be there early for her to get ready so had driven themselves in the flashy new ford GT. It was a dark grey instead of black or red making it very hard to see in distance. Kimberly and Pete had also brought along a box of what looked like gifts already wrapped making her do some very last minute shopping for Pete.
Her plans to catch a late flight out had been canceled due to her families plans being canceled. Everyone was doing something with other family members therefore, she would be staying in D.C. and having Christmas dinner at Lyssa and Rodrick's beach house with Kimberly and Pete. Major Dannigan said he had a prior commitment and would be away for Christmas day. A buzzing of the intercom signaled the driver's arrival so she hurried downstairs.
Pete waited at the door and when she walked into view his jaw dropped. He'd only seen Madison a couple of times but his reaction to her now made her very happy. He'd stammered out a greeting and looked her up and down then helped wrap the cloak around her to go out to the limo. Kimberly smiled as Madison ducked inside and slid onto the opposite seat to face her as Pete settled beside Madison. Sneakily Madison let her hand drift close to his as they pulled away from the curb and within moments Pete gingerly reached the inch and took her's into his own. Kimberly smiled catching sight of them and made small talk.
Twenty minutes later the car stopped and the driver opened the door and offered his hand to Madison and Kimberly as they each stepped out. Pete straightened himself as Kimberly and Madison each slipped a hand through his arms and walked in. Their names were checked against a list and allowed in. They picked up programs and went up to the box seating.
Rodrick was already there but standing in the doorway talking with Major Dannigan, General Singleton of Special Forces and Admiral Kenslow of Naval Special Warfare. Kimberly released Pete's arm to be greeted by the Brass but Madison didn't until Pete reached forward to shake hands with them then immediately slipped her hand back to his arm. Pete had been introduced as working with Rodrick and Madison already known to be Dannigan's secretary, Kimberly was also introduced as working for Dannigan. Seating was called and they all entered the box. Dannigan sat down beside a woman of close age none of them knew and weren't introduced to. Much of the conversations stopped when the lights dimmed.
Lyssa heard the First Family had arrived and were taking their seats. An announcer stepped out and made his statement about the production to open it and she watched waiting as the cast began. The show went as perfect as they had planned. When the cast took its final curtain call a familiar little girl stepped close to the stage and offered up a bouquet of roses.
Many could hear her saying very loudly in her impish voice, "Lyssa so pretty!"
Smiling, Lyssa knelt down as a naval officer lifted the child up to the stage to be hugged by Lyssa then returning to her father and seat. Lyssa gave the applauding crowd another graceful curtsy then exited the stage.
During the production the Lobby had been transformed into a grand reception. The President offered a toast to the cast with Lyssa standing close by and also congratulated her on the success of her toy donations. Lyssa's subtly roving eyes kept sight of the little girl Meghan as she chattered happily with Dannigan and Rodrick and Madison occasionally waving to Lyssa. Dannigan was seen to slip the Commander something and shake hands.
Lyssa kept having a feeling that something was off somewhere in the crowd. Rodrick had already been cleared by the Secret Service contingent and was allowed close and shook hands with the President and given belated congratulations for their engagement. He picked up Lyssa's body language and surveyed the crowd as well when a tall dark man stepped forward producing what looked like a plastic gun.
"FREE THE TIGERS," he yelled and pulled a trigger.
Lyssa shrieked and appeared to to go the wrong direction to get away and was struck in the high left shoulder by the bullet then appeared to be fainting as the second shot hit the same area while Rodrick's lightning reflexes carried him to tackle him. Lyssa feigned distress and used her back to push the President back until the Secret Service could encircle him.
Rodrick wrestled with the assassin on the floor making the gun go off two more times into the floor. The man screamed as Rodrick grappled around and used a jui-jitsu hold to snap both shoulders out of socket then straddled his chest and began slamming punches into his face unhindered until several agents pulled him off. They had their hands full with the former SEAL as he struggled to get back to the bleeding man as other agents took him into custody.
Rodrick spared a quick glance to Dannigan who gave him a subtle nod and stopped his struggles then demanded to be let go to see to Lyssa who was putting on an award winning performance calling out to Rodrick on the floor. Rodrick gathered her into his arms as he sat on the floor to hold her.
"I got him," he whispered.
"Fucking hurts like hell. Get me the fuck outta here," she whispered back then raised her voice to protest and whimper.
Paramedics that had been standing by quickly arrived and gently lifted Lyssa onto a gurney and went to work on her. Rodrick rode with her to the emergency room followed closely by the limo carrying Pete, Madison and Kimberly. Dannigan with his date in tow followed as well.
"WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED," demanded the President as the agents quickly drove the first family back to the White House.
"Sir we have no idea who he is much less how he got the gun through but we'll find out," The Agent in Charge affirmed him.
"That ballerina saved your life," the first Lady stated.
"Pure panic and by accident Ma'am, but a good thing all the same," the Agent replied," Her fiance on the other hand damn near beat the guy to death before we pulled him off, not that I blame him. He's an ex-SEAL. A little shady but nothing to be concerned about."
Beth leaned forward and hugged her parents as did the younger brother Dylan, "will she be ok?"
"I'll see to it she gets the best care as soon as we get back to the White House Bethy, I owe her that," the President assured her.
The young boy looked a bit confused and leaned in close to whisper into his father's ear, "How come she didn't look scared when that bad guy shot her?"
"What do you mean," The President whispered back.
"She didn't look scared. She looked like you do when you have papers to sign. The kind you don't like but have to sign anyway," the boy replied.
"Well she was so scared that she didn't know what to do and it kinda makes you go numb so it didn't hurt at first but after a second it did," He explained, "that's called panic son."
He still looked confused but accepted the answer.
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa was in surgery within the hour. There was a bit of commotion in the emergency room that ended after Lyssa threatened to strangle the nurse for attempting to cut the costume off. Lyssa had undressed on her own and sent the costume out to Madison with instructions to have it dry-cleaned immediately before the stains permanently set. Pete took her in Dannigan's car to drop it off then returned. Lyssa would have to stay overnight in the hospital but firmly told them all she would be leaving the next day to keep
her commitment to the orphanage.
By breakfast time the floral arrangements and other gifts began pouring in along with phone calls from friends asking her condition and if they could help in some way as well as from journalists asking for interviews and photos. Marissa and Katya were the first to call and be assured that Lyssa would be well and they could keep their schedules, however Rodrick had to answer to Katya's anger for not protecting Lyssa from injury.
By 9 a.m. the cast of the production all but stormed the lobby demanding to visit her and several photographers that tried to sneak to her room had to be escorted out of the hospital. At noon Lyssa had finally had enough and stated with or without the doctors advisement she was checking out and going home. Black SUVs bearing government plates waited at the door when she exited with her left arm in a sling and Rodrick giving glaring looks to anyone that tried to crowd them.
One photographer got too close bumping her and was immediately on the receiving end of a punch that slammed him back into the throng.
"Back the fuck off,"Rodrick growled at the remaining that tried to edge in and they hastily retreated back several steps.
The black SUVs quickly whisked Lyssa and Rodrick to the White House where they were rushed into the West Wing and the Oval Office itself. Several cameras flashed as the President and First Lady shook their hands and he presented them both with Medals of Citizenry for their bravery and sacrifice. Lyssa thanked him somewhat meekly as he also announced another substantial contribution to her toy donation in the name of the nation. Beth and Dylan presented Lyssa with a large bouquet of roses along with a get well card signed by them both. Lyssa and Rodrick declined the offer of lunch saying she needed to rest in preparation for the evening's visit to the orphanage which would go as planned regardless of her injuries.
An hour and a half later they walked into the beach house and Lyssa finally voiced her true feelings about it all making Rodrick laugh after covering his ears in mock dismay at her profanity.
Pete and Kimberly picked up Madison in a rental SUV and then joined Lyssa and Rodrick at the theater to pick up the toys that had been wrapped and carded by cast volunteers that would be coming along to assist her. Again in costume but without the arm sling Lyssa rode with Rodrick with Kimberly in the backseat of their SUV followed by Pete and Madison and several others in their own vehicles loaded down with toys.
The staff of the orphanage accommodated them by distracting the children as the toys were brought in and placed at the tree then Lyssa herself snuck in on them.
She announced loudly, "Hey kids its christmas eve out here!"
Madison stepped quickly out of the way and was steadied by Pete as a flurry of children surged into the room cheering. The cast along with Kimberly began calling out names and distributing gifts as several sat down immediately and began shredding the wrapping paper. Rodrick ended up helping one boy who's arm was in a cast, broken from a fall at school.
One little girl was more interested in Lyssa's costume than her wrapped box until Lyssa knelt down and helped her unwrap it to reveal a doll almost as big as the girl herself. The four year old promptly named it Lyssa. It took only a few minutes for the toys to be handed out and unwrapped. The children began sectioning off to spend time with the cast and Lyssa's friends to be entertained. It wasn't long before they were herded back together and Lyssa began reading 'Twas the night before Christmas'.
She'd read a page then hand off to another person. Luckily there were enough people there that each were able to read a page to the children. The staff noticed that some of the younger ones had begun to yawn and caught Lyssa's attention who almost hid a wince when she shifted position on the floor playing with a group of girls and their dolls. A worker leaned down and whispered that now would be a good time to say goodnight as several were about to fall over asleep.
Lyssa silent signaled to Rodrick and Pete and Kimberly to 'extract' and they caught the attention of the others and as a group they all said goodnight. After many hugs and thanks they returned to the theater to change and go home respectively. Kimberly feigned a headache and rode with Rodrick and Lyssa back to the safe house to be dropped off so Madison and Pete could go on their own.
Madison was surprised when Pete pulled in at the pricey resturaunt.
"Let's grab a bite, ok," he asked.
"Sounds good," she answered as the valet opened the door for her.
Pete had been slick and made a reservation but Madison figured that out because it wasn't the kind of place you just walked into and got a table.
Pete looked somewhat at a loss for words when Madison spoke up, "I really like the funny ways you answer the phone at the hangar."
Pete blushed, "Uh yeah. Well I never know when you're calling and we kinda get to goofing off."
Madison laughed.
"I really like talking to you though, ya know, even more so if it wasn't business," he blurted out then looked slightly embarrassed.
Madison smiled, "well I could call you personally on my own time."
"That'd be cool, if it doesn't put you in a bind with somebody," he caught himself.
"No, nobody. Unless maybe a guy down in the Bahamas would like to change that," she looked at him pointedly.
"Could try it. I like to, if you do too," he answered.
Dinner flew by quickly and soon Madison found herself in front of her apartment door being kissed and liking it.
"why not come in," she asked him.
"Kimberly did say she had a headache. Maybe some quiet time would be good," Pete said.
Madison smiled and led him inside.
CHAPTER 4
Dannigan sat back in his office looking out at the lights of the city. Lyssa had been able to maintain her cover while protecting the President. Nobody was the wiser about her and she was even able to keep her promise to the kids at the orphanage. He wasn't surprised that Madison pitched in to help with that. what did was the sparks flying between her and Pete. Almost as surprising as running into Helen Cafferty.
They knew each other from past work but not that far back and she'd been delighted to hear he had box seats at the ballet. She'd wanted to go but wasn't able to get tickets due to the immediate sell out. The picture Lyssa had posed for with them was equally nice. Dannigan printed it out first thing after her release from the hospital. It now hung on the wall. Along with a copy sent to Helen.
She had been very obvious mentioning no plans for New Year's eve. He though about inviting her to armed services ball. Lyssa and Rodrick would be at the White House gala. He was sure that Madison and Pete and Kimberly would find their own plans for that evening.
The would-be assassin's debriefing/interrogation had been straight-forward. A Somali that was trying to force the U.S. into releasing Al Queda collaborators from Guantanamo Bay, Gitmo, which wouldn't have worked even if he had been successful. the botched attempt had only made things even worse for them all now.
Christmas dinner at Lyssa and Rodrick's would be something to enjoy but he already had plans as he got up finally and left the office. Three hours later he walked into the quiet Veterans' Home. The nurse at the desk nodded to him.
"Merry Christmas Sir. The General will be thrilled you came," she said with a smile.
Dannigan nodded back, "I'm surprised you're here."
At the far end of the hall he stopped at a door with a name plate below two stars, Major General Patrick Bentley. He knocked quietly and entered.
A very tired old man opened his eyes and sighed,"You came....."
"Yes Sir General. Reporting as ordered," Dannigan saluted then smiled at the joke.
The old General nodded to a newspaper, "they said Sam died. Shot in front of the Pentagon."
"Yes Sir. His funeral was well attended," Dannigan replied.
"Who killed him," the General asked.
Dannigan shook his head, "nobody that matters anymore."
"Make sure you wear your uniform to mine. You earned that rank boy. I Understand why you pretend to be lower. Look in that drawer there. That box is for you," He instructed him
Dannigan took out the box and opened it. Light glittered off the rank inside.
"You never put on the ones they issued. You'll damn well wear those boy. Merry Christmas," the old man said softly then closed his eyes, "make sure you call him. Both of you are good men."
Dannigan sighed, "Yes Sir."
The old man settled in to sleep but reached over and clasped his hand.
"Merry christmas to you too; Dad," Dannigan said softly.
Meghan chattered nonstop to Rodrick as she held him hostage on the couch on his lap amid snickers by Pete and her father while Kimberly and Madison help Lyssa and Meghan's adoptive mother in the kitchen.
Pete mouthed the words silently to Rodrick,"Daddy material."
Rodrick flashed him a hateful look then whispered into her ear. Meghan promptly clambered down and over to Pete where she took station on his lap and began reciting all the gifts she'd gotten while Rodrick smirked at him. Madison had noticed and giggled then whispered to Kimberly who promptly followed suit. the women set everything on the table then called out for the men and Meghan to join them.
Pete seated Madison and Kimberly as Rodrick did for Lyssa and the Commander for his wife and Meghan. None of them being overly religious gave thanks for friends present, lamented those not present and toasted to those that still fought valiantly for ideals.
The dinner was cheerful and after the clean-up, gifts were handed out. Kimberly received designer clothing and shoes along with perfume and jewelry from Lyssa and Rodrick, from Pete she received her favorite tv series on DVD set and from Madison she received a complete make-up set with brushes in a travel case.
Pete received some collectibles of the Dallas Cowboys from Kimberly, a complete Clint Eastwood movie set from Madison, from Lyssa and Rodrick he got an extended satellite package and suit from Giorgio Armani.
Madison enjoyed the new year's eve dress and jewelry from Lyssa and Rodrick, the shell jewelry and bikini from Kimberly and was awestruck by the beach painting from Pete.
Lyssa received a stunning jewelry set from Rodrick, a make-up set with brushes in travel case from Madison, a ballerina music box from Pete and new pointe shoes from Kimberly.
Rodrick liked the custom painted flight helmet from Pete, new western boots from Kimberly and the leather bomber style jacket from Madison.
Meghan was overjoyed tearing into her gifts which consisted of ballerina dolls, dollhouse, tea party set and ballet wear in her size along with a year of lessons from a local academy. After Meghan and her parents left, four final gifts rested under the tree.
Dannigan had them delivered that morning. For Kimberly there was a new laptop computer, for Pete a poster of the entire line-up of the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders autographed by them, Madison opened up a three piece luggage set from Coach, Rodrick was impressed with the special edition aviator watch, pocket knife and wallet set from Victorianox and Lyssa was very happy to see a professional collection of all her performances along with the three Sugar Plum Doll costumes she'd worn preserved. Later on Kimberly left for the safe-house and Pete went home with Madison again leaving Lyssa and Rodrick alone.
He laid down in front of the fireplace after adding some more wood to it and smiled as Lyssa laid down beside him wearing only the jewelry set he'd given her and her engagement ring.
"Merry Christmas my Steel Butterfly," he murmurred to her then kissed her neck.
Lyssa smiled and laid back as he slid over on top of her and whispered, "Merry Christmas Hotrod."
Book 26 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
The O.I.C.A. are enjoying New Year's Eve in Washington elsewhere a young woman yearns for her own freedom and intel will come from a very unexpected source!! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers. |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa's ballgown swirled as Rodrick turned her as they waltzed in the ballroom of the White House. A colorful sea of chiffon and satin punctuated with the black of tuxedos and deep blue formal uniforms of the military with their ribbons. Rodrick himself wore a black tuxedo with his budweiser, the SEAL Trident, along with the Medal of Citizenry and his Silver Star for Gallantry. Lyssa wore a dark green gown trimmed in black but wore only the jewelry he'd given her. The gown was her secret tribute to her time in the Army and Special Forces.
They were both unarmed and not happy about it, but it was the White House so there was no exception without compromising her cover. Rodrick had offered to carry two MadDog Frequent Flyers in his boots, but was glad Lyssa had refused due to the fact an agent had pressed both boots before admitting them. The composite constructed knives were very popular among the Special Operations community. Lyssa even owned several herself, but she much preferred her Marauder.
Rodrick snarkily commented to the agent, "Disappointed?"
The agent glared at him for that but Rodrick didn't back down giving him a smirk that implied he wanted the agent to make some type of move to be interpreted as hostile. They both got a laugh when the metal detector went off because of the metal plate in the head of grizzled colonel stepping through.
The look he gave the agents when he said,"I ain't taking my head off for any of you wet behind the ears, zit-poppin', fuzz-nutted kids and that's final," made them all step back.
After passing through he noticed Rodrick and Lyssa trying to conceal their laughter and stepped closer.
"Saw you two in action that night; not bad for a navy puke. Young lady I see you're none the worse for wear. Well done both of you," The old Army colonel remarked
Rodrick snapped a quick salute then shook the offered hand. The old colonel gently took Lyssa's hand and kissed it then slanted a look to Rodrick.
"Good evening to you Colonel.You look very distinguished Sir," Lyssa smiled then nodded to his rows of decorations, "I believe its your resume that has the suited young men irritable. Its surely hard to compete with such an impressive record Sir."
"Army woulda gotten you safely out of the way, took out that cock-bite son-of-a-bitch AND saved the President," He smirked.
He threw her a wink after that then proceeded in.
Rodrick rolled his eyes, "should be ashamed of yourself. He's old enough to be your daddy."
Lyssa giggled, "He's still young enough to take the cherries to task In The Fence."
Rodrick understood her subtle reference. The Colonel was a training officer for SPecial Operational Detachment- Delta. Delta Force, or the Unit or Detachment as it was commonly referred to, spent the bulk of their time working within an isolated area of Ft. Bragg. Joining them was called 'going within the fence', the fence meaning that separation between the ability and mentality of Operators and the outside world who would never understand the sacrifices they make.
Years of training and working at high levels of danger took a toll on those individuals. When the Army wouldn't be able to field them anymore, you wouldn't see them casually working at Wal-Mart or Home Depot. They often wound up doing the same things for private security contractors, law enforcement, intelligence agencies. Some even made their way to the entertainment industry as stuntmen or trainers for actors performing their own stunts. They never stopped willingly, they no longer remembered how.
Some time during the ball the President asked to cut in and dance with Lyssa so Rodrick danced with the First Lady. Several pictures were taken and then they returned to their respective partners. Rodrick nodded to familiar faces from the SEAL community while Lyssa whispered those of Delta she had known. There were no members of the DemonWraiths in attendance.
There was one man who's name she had spotted on the guest list provided by Dannigan that set her on edge.
"Rod. Over there by the windows; on the left, salt 'n pepper hair, mustache, left hand behind his back," Lyssa whispered.
"Marked. What's his story," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa nodded to a passing woman then continued, "he's with D.A.R.P.A. but attaches to D.O.D. and N.S.A. Don't get within ten feet if you can and under no circumstances do you let him touch you."
"That bad is he? What kind of specialist is he," Rodrick asked picking up her worry.
Lyssa steered them in another direction, "he's listed as an interrogator but he's not. He's an information extraction specialist. They call him 'The Possessor', and yes; he's very bad. You've never met his kind before and I pray you never do."
'I'm going to ask Paul about that guy. He's got to be beyond bad news if Lyssa avoids him like a level 5 contagion,' Rodrick thought to himself.
Kimberly was enjoying her dance with the man she had met. A personal trainer at one of the more swanky fitness club of the area when her cellphone tucked into her cleavage vibrated. It was Dannigan. She stepped into the ladies' room to take his call.
"Kimberly I'm sorry to interrupt. did you drive yourself," he asked.
"No Sir, I rode with Pete and Madison," she answered.
"Something's come up, grab a taxi and meet me at the office," he said angrily.
"Yes sir. As fast as I can," she answered then disconnected.
She found Pete and Madison hiding in a corner kissing after she apologized to the trainer for having to leave and took a taxi to the office.
Dannigan sat at his desk in a tuxedo waiting for her.
"What's up Major," she asked.
He nodded to the large screen, "Marilyn Somerset, daughter to the Senator Alex Somerset. She's a new age type and got involved with a group of 'truth seekers' in South Dakota. The problem is she's now being held against her will. a letter smuggled out of the compound begging her father to get her out. Two aides were sent to bring her home. That didn't go well, they've been hospitalized. So said 'they were hostile and tried to kidnap her' so the 'security' had to protect themselves and the girl. This could quite quickly turn into a Waco/Ruby Ridge if the Feds get involved. I need you to go to work tonight compiling all data about Morning Dawn."
"How certain can we be that she truly is being held hostage. You did say she's the new age type," Kimberly asked.
Dannigan brought up a video and sent it to play on the plasma.
A young woman spoke to a camera, "Daddy I know you mean well but you can not force me to abandon Morning Dawn. I HAVE to stay here daddy. I'm going to have Malcolm's baby. I love him, just like you loved Miranda. Please don't send anymore men here. I love you."
Dannigan shut off the video, "she used a duress phrase. 'Like you loved Miranda'. Miranda was the Senator's intern, a lot of people believed they were having an affair. In truth she was insane. When she couldn't seduce him into getting her pregnant so she would force him into marriage for the jackpot she threatened to have Marilyn raped and murdered if he wouldn't cooperate. The truth was kept from the press, they believed and printed that she committed suicide over being afraid of rejection. The real truth is she had to be killed by Secret Service here in Washington."
"That's eighteen different kinds of ate-the-fuck-up Major," Kimberly commented.
"Oh it gets worse. Service found the Senator manacled to her bed and she was on top of him. Her medicine cabinet had illegal fertility drugs and ovulation testers and she had loaded him up with E.D. pills. Damn near killed him with those. That was one batshit-fuckin'-crazy woman," Dannigan stated.
Kimberly nodded, "ok, yeah I can see how that would used as a duress signal."
Dannigan added," Lyssa and Rodrick are going to need everything that can be found for this."
"Yes Sir, I'll dig up whatever is there,"she affirmed.
Dannigan nodded.
Just as Kimberly reached the door he spoke up, "You look wonderful Kimberly, sorry to take you away from your evening. If you want I'll arrange lunch for two at Chelsea's and make it look like you won a contest"
Kimberly smiled, "now that would be very nice Major," then left.
In short time she was back at the Georgetown house and dressed comfortably. She hacked into various databases and began compiling the information. NRO, National Reconnaissance Office, provided highly detailed photos of the compound in both color and infra-red. She was able to use the satellites to make floor plans of each building and count human heat sources. Other places provided other, more disturbing intelligence. Fertility drugs were being prescribed to several females in the compound. A new prescription had been issued to Marilyn three days ago. Cases of at-home ovulation and pregnancy testers had been ordered online.
The leader Malcolm was sketchy to say the least. He had been staying off the grid for quite some time. There were several reports of money scams and tax fraud but nothing substantial for other agencies to act on, not even social services could find a valid reason to investigate.
A Lakota reservation was located next to the compound and there had been several incidents between the group and the tribe about trying to encroach on their reservation. The tribal council had made formal protests to the Department of Interior; Indian Affairs. That gave her a lot more to work with. Unhindered by many restrictions, the Tribal Police had their act together and had been investigating the group that appeared more and more like a cult. They weren't big on 'White-eyes' crowding their land, it made them uneasy. Crazy ones were even less welcome.
Kimberly didn't blame them. Reports of auto-fire had alarmed the Tribal police and after they verified that the cult security did have automatic weaponry that consisted of assault rifles and sub-machine guns, mainly AR-15's and Model-10 Ingrams, widely known as MAC-10's. They were actively compiling a substantial case to get Federal authorities involved.
Several large bore hunting rifles were noted as well so it was possible that some were training to perform sniper work. This was another Waco or Ruby Ridge just waiting to happen. The Feds had a bad rep for those situations. Now she knew why the O.I.C.A. had been tapped for the situation. The military couldn't intervene due to Posse Commitatis. They, however, could.
Their charter allowed them to work both outside and within the borders. The aspect of the Senator's daughter edged it to a threat of National Security, but still in a grey area. They worked in that blurry area.
One name kept popping up in the reports grabbed her attention; Thomas DayMoon. The frequency had to be significant. A search of the tribal registry revealed him to have a very obscure listing within the tribe. He wasn't an elected councilman, but he was on it and had been for over forty years. Never a tribal president or chief but his name was everywhere on things.
Confused, Kimberly then researched tribal infra-structure of that nation and found that the tribal president was elected as were most council-members. Two positions were always appointed and/or inherited. They were ancient and traditional positions still in use. The War-chief, which is different than the Tribal-chief and the medicine-man/woman.
Kimberly knew that often the last name was the true name. It denoted family or major event during birth. A quick check of the day of birth revealed that the man had been born during a solar eclipse. That qualified as a major event and would give rise to such a distinct name. Perhaps that meant he was the tribe's medicine-man? Such an event would lead them to believe he came from powerful magic. Either way due to the information he provided so far he may have to be contacted for more.
"But how do we do that," Kimberly asked herself aloud.
CHAPTER 2
Thomas DayMoon sat chanting as he had for three days and nights. His three nephews took turns keeping the fire burning for him as he gazed unfocused into the flames. Suddenly he saw it.
Rattlesnake coiled around a Rabbit striking at it but not biting. The Rattlesnake looked up. An Eagle swooped down from the moon. Rattlesnake hissed at Eagle and bared its fangs lunging at it but Eagle called out and a Butterfly came. The Butterfly fluttered around behind Rattlesnake and took Rabbit away. The Butterfly and Eagle landed on Rattlesnake's back. Rattlesnake began bleeding and died. Then Eagle flew away with Butterfly on his back to dive into a lake.
Thomas' vision returned to the flames and he stopped his chanting. The vision had been revealed to him, now he would wait until the vision came to pass.
"You had it Uncle Thomas," the teen-aged boy asked.
"I have," Thomas answered then recounted his vision.
The boy was very puzzled,"what does it mean uncle Thomas?"
"The spirit world doesn't work the way this one does boy. Vision may tell you exactly what you need to know but not always in a way you can easily understand," he explained.
"I know that Rattlesnake is the evil and Rabbit is the innocent but what about Eagle? And why Butterfly? A butterfly can't kill. They're harmless," the young teen stated.
"Butterflies are the symbol of change, but that may not be why butterfly comes. Butterfly maybe a totem of the one who does bring change and Eagle may be bringing butterfly here," Thomas said.
"And Eagle dives into a lake? They can't swim," the boy protested.
The old man chuckled, "If the sky had no clouds we'd never see rain and the plants would die. Even I do not understand all of this vision, but when it has come to pass then I will see the truth in it."
"This spirit world stuff is hard to understand Uncle Thomas," the boy stated.
"If it were easy then there'd be no need for me, would there," he answered sagely, "eyes sharp young buck. Look for the butterfly for it will come soon but may not be obvious."
The boy nodded then turned to leave, "I guess this what the teacher meant by metaphorical."
"You have to learn the old ways. Our way is the image, the white-eyes' way is the word. You must SEE the message, not read it," DayMoon advised.
Rodrick read the briefing packet over Lyssa's shoulder.
"Baby, that's a hornet's nest and a half just waiting to get pissed off," he commented.
"mhmm. That's putting it lightly," she agreed," getting in won't be a problem. It's getting in from where that is. The closest thing is the reservation and I'll lay odds that they really aren't enthusiastic about us white-eyes nosing around."
"The biggest problem is why would we be around. There's nothing there," he added.
Lyssa read more about the tribe members and finally saw the one spark of hope. A girl named Jessie TwoHawks had on her social pages an interest in dance. She snatched up her phone and called Dannigan.
"Major, I'm going to send you 250,000 dollars. Set up a scholarship fund for native american dancers and send a letter to Jessie TwoHawks on the reservation that she will be visited by a representative. She's being selected to attend UCLA, performing arts," Lyssa instructed.
"Damn you're slick. Ok give me a few hours to handle that but go ahead and deploy," he answered and disconnected.
Rodrick sat down heavily, "Fuck me! I can't believe you came up with that so fast. I'm a rock compared to you. SEALs would have been struggling for a week to find an 'in' and you did it in less than an hour."
"I'm a woman. That's ok baby, the Feds wouldn't have ever come up with an in at all baby. 'Stomp in, beat their chest and fuck everything up'. They don't worry about OPSEC like we do," she replied.
Rodrick knew she was right, for them Operational Security was everything. Feds wouldn't work this undercover; they'd simply go in with a brass band leading the way. They packed all they'd need and headed for the airfield, within an hour and a half they were taking off heading west.
Within three hours Dannigan had the necessary information in databases and a certified letter heading to Jessie TwoHawks. Lyssa and Rodrick had the formal paperwork. All she would have to do is call a number and enter her information and a check would be issued to UCLA for her tuition and supplies. A credit card would be issued to her with a five thousand dollar balance for additional needs including travel. The idea was actually good.
He'd have no big problems to make it a real foundation to continue it. Dannigan had Madison type up letters to various people that were known to support native american arts to ask if they'd join and run it. It was fun sometimes when a mission did more good than originally intended. A few "donations" from various government funds were easy to obtain for the Foundation and he easily set up a local office. By the time they replied it would be all set up for them to take over and do great things.
CHAPTER 3
Marilyn looked out the barred window and all she saw was snow and dried grasses that hadn't been cut or trampled down. There was barely any heat in the room and the soup they'd brought her was ice cold. She couldn't believe she'd been so gullible. Malcolm had played her perfectly. She knew her father had gotten her letter asking to be brought home because she'd seen his aide and security man arrive then promptly beaten and sent back.
Now she was being punished. Malcolm had sworn that he'd do everything possible to keep her there, including getting her pregnant to show she wanted to remain there by having his baby. She knelt shivering next to the cot and prayed for somebody from her father to come take her home.
The Tribal council watched as Lyssa laid a clutch of sage tied with ribbon on the table and then a pouch of tobacco in front of Thomas DayMoon.
Lyssa nodded to them, "I believe its the custom when visiting tribal elders to bring these gifts."
The council President smiled and said, "Not neccessary Ms.Kordenay but very much appreciated that you'd make such effort to be respectful. Please make yourself comfortable and tell us why you've come."
Lyssa took her coat off then addressed the council at large, "As I'm sure you've been told; Ms. TwoHawks has been selected by the Foundation of American Arts to attend UCLA in the Arts department in hopes that she will bring the beauty of your traditional dances as she learns various other forms of such expression including ballet. Its the hope that such expressions may be shared and preserved through college study. Too many of such arts have been forgotten through the years and that is a shameful thing."
Various members at the table murmurred their agreement.
Lyssa continued, "She would also be working with the anthropology department and sociology. Dancing is but another way to tell stories and much of your history is expressed that way. Should it not be preserved and protected for ALL future generations?"
She had directed the last of her statement to Thomas DayMoon and that was when he noticed the butterfly pendant.
He said in a clear steady voice, "Ms. Kordenay there is much truth in what you say. Too many of our ways are being forgotten and lost. Perhaps through this sharing some them will be preserved. The learned people of the colleges will be able to know our stories and ways. I see this as a GOOD thing."
Lyssa looked at him with respect, "It would be things that could be shared without intruding into deeper and more sacred of your traditions sir."
He chuckled, "You mean our medicine practices."
Lyssa stood her ground, "I won't pretend to be knowledgeable about such things sir. I'm an outsider and know there are many things I don't understand and more than probably; not supposed to understand. However, that doesn't mean I can't be respectful of those things sir and convey that I wish to be respectful."
He sat quiet for a moment then said,"Thank you for your respect Ms. Kordenay. Its a rare thing to see and it does NOT go overlooked."
The council agreed at large.
The tribal President nodded, "we thank you for the respect you've shown us Ms. Kordenay and are glad that you represents this Foundation. Tomorrow night a meeting will be held to present Jessie TwoHawks the scholarship."
Lyssa smiled, "My many thanks to the council for its wisdom and dedication to their traditions and the preservation of them."
She curtsied gracefully then collected her coat and walked to the doors.
Rodrick opened the door and followed her out to the main hall where a young boy stopped them just as they were reaching the main doors.
" Ma'am? Sir," he called out to them.
They both stopped and turned.
The boy saw Lyssa's butterfly pendant then Rodrick's belt buckle which was a modified SEAL trident.
"Yes," Lyssa asked.
"My uncle Ma'am, he'd like to speak with you privately. Here are the directions, he'd like you to be there at seven please," he said.
"You're uncle," Lyssa prompted.
"Thomas DayMoon," he answered.
"We'll be there, thank you," Rodrick said.
"So boy. What did you see," Thomas DayMoon asked his nephew.
"I saw the butterfly pendant; around the woman's neck! And the Eagle on the belt buckle of the man with her. I know THAT symbol! Its the same one Navy SEALs wear," he answered.
"You saw an Eagle that comes from water; carrying a Butterfly that brings change did you not," he asked pointedly.
The boy nodded, "ok. That's two totems explained but what about Rattlesnake and Rabbit?"
"They will be revealed when its their proper time. Now its time for you to go home,"he said sternly.
The teenager left just as Lyssa and Rodrick pulled in. Their knock was answered by the old man who invited them in.
"So. Butterfly and Eagle have come," he said sitting down.
Lyssa guarded her surprise, "Excuse me Sir?"
The old medicine man chuckled to himself, "you are Butterfly. A bringer of change and you have been brought here by the Eagle that comes from water," pointing to Rodrick, "I have seen your coming."
"That's an interesting analogy,"Rodrick said.
"The two of you will fight Rattlesnake who guards and torments Rabbit. My Vision has told me of this. I have SEEN it," he said firmly.
"Tell us about the compound close by," Lyssa said with a stoney expression.
DayMoon told them all he'd seen both with his eyes and those of the spirit world. Lyssa took out the high resolution photos and pointed out the building and asked what he knew about them. It took an hour to gain all the knowledge there was to had from him which turned out to be very useful.
"Tell me Butterfly, is Rattlesnake the only reason you are here," DayMoon asked.
Lyssa looked over her shoulder, "the scholarship is real. I paid for it myself."
He nodded as she followed Rodrick out, "you are a true Butterfly."
CHAPTER 4
Marilyn lay huddled on the bed in the cold dark room. A building all by itself with two men outside guarding the door. If she bothered to she could see the stars but she lay still bundled with everything she could to stay warm. She had did all she could to be active but now she was tired and was fighting sleep and uncontrollable shivering. Mentally she prayed again for help to come soon, preferably before she froze to death, or the promised daily and nightly sessions of rape by Malcolm to impregnate her.
Lyssa slowly let her hand down into the snow to avoid the loud crunching sound as she and Rodrick crawled into the compound. they'd used long range night-scopes to see if the guards were using any kind of night optics and lucked out. No goggles or scopes being used even though there was a sniper in a tree beside the main building. First things first, the Senator's daughter had to be freed then they'd be able to deal with the leader; Malcolm Fitzroy.
They encountered a single guard at the end of the compound's inner perimeter. Rodrick was closer and dove at the rifle carrying man. The former SEAL brought him down fast and pinned his hands to the ground with the rifle. The sentry couldn't reach the trigger as Rodrick held him down with his left hand and right boot to slam the but of his pistol to the back of his head. Quickly he used the man's boot laces to tie his wrists and ankles. The parka drawstrings held his own scarf in his mouth as a gag.
Lyssa crept upon another and dropped him to the ground. Quickly she clamped her right hand over his mouth and nose while wrapping her other arm and legs around his torso. Every time he let out a breath she tightened her hold. He found himself with no room to breath in as Lyssa mimicked a constrictor snake and suffocated him into unconsciousness. She kept her hold over his mouth and nose when his struggles stopped. He was dead within minutes. He hadn't even had the chance to pick up trace evidence from her.
Rodrick took station on one side while Lyssa on the other. They were mentally counting down then moved simultaneously. The guards had no clue what was happening when they were suddenly hit from both directions at once and brought down. Rodrick secured them while Lyssa used her picks on the the locks. the knob and deadbolt were easy but the padlock gave her a problem. It resisted due to the cold but she popped it after a minute and slowly entered the dark room.
Lyssa crossed over to the bed and gently shook the bundle there, "Marilyn. Marilyn. Get up. Its time to go."
"Please be real. Oh god please be real," Marilyn said to the darkened form and its face of complicated elegant swirls.
Lyssa looked at her with her swirled pattern of facial markings disguising her, "I'm very real. Now let's go!"
Rodrick had shot the sniper out of the tree and since there were no other guards outside started a SUV after digging out the bullet.
"Get in the vehicle,"Rodrick ordered.
Marilyn grabbed at the first figure, "wait! He has tapes. Video tapes of girls he raped to get pregnant! You have to get those tapes!"
Rodrick nodded, "we'll get them. Now tuck down low and stay quiet."
Marilyn laid down across the backseat. Lyssa ducked inside a building and fired two silent shots at the guard outside an interior door carrying an assault rifle. Rodrick crept inside then waited as she picked the lock on the door and slithered inside after her. They approached the bed from both sides then rose up.
Malcolm Fitzroy slept alone in the bed. Lyssa drew the Marauder from the back of her thigh and Rodrick brought out his titanium dive knife. They positioned their blades on opposite sides of his neck and drew them across at the same time. Malcolm bolted up grabbing at his neck but the blood gushed out soaking into the bedding as he gurgled trying to call out.
Lyssa leaned in close, "Past the gates; before the devil's throne. I've been to hell Malcolm Fitzroy...."
Rodrick finished, "we're sending you back in exchange...fuck-head."
He fell back weak from the blood loss and as his eyes glazed over. Rodrick went back into the hall and dragged the dead guard inside. Quickly he dug into the skull and dug out the rounds. Lyssa searched the room and broke into the locked cabinet. Tapes with women's names were in there. she grabbed a pillowcase and filled it with the tapes.
Lyssa followed Rodrick back out. They quietly drove out of the compound then at the main road pulled over a few minutes later. It had started snowing again.
"From here you go alone kid," Rodrick stated.
Lyssa added, "say nothing about us. To anyone! You'll see the airport on this road. Give the tapes to security there, there's a plane waiting for you. Now go."
Marilyn drove away leaving Rodrick and Lyssa to make their way back to their hidden car on the reservation. Kimberly had re-routed an Air Force transport to pick up the girl. Two Federal Agency planes had also been diverted to land at the airport and delayed an hour. One was Marshals and the other was an NSA team going to Alaska for training. That should confuse everybody for a few days and delete the records of Lyssa and Rodrick being there.
The tribal President spoke loud and clearly, "Jessie TwoHawks. You have been called to council to receive a great gift. Here to present it; Lyssa Kordenay."
Lyssa stepped forward to address the young woman, "Jessie TwoHawks. Your passion for your native dance and enthusiasm for other forms of the art have not gone unnoticed. The Foundation for American Arts has selected you for a scholarship to attend UCLA to work with its Performing Arts hand in hand with Anthropology and Sociology to preserve and protect while educating about the art of your native dance while you study other forms of this artistic expression."
The assembled crowd applauded.
Lyssa continued, "Dance has always been a form of story telling and here is your chance to share yours with others while they share theirs' with you."
Lyssa handed over the envelope to her.The young girl blushed and tried to hold back her tears of happiness.
"Thank you so much for this opportunity! I am also thrilled that its you, Lyssa Kordenay; the Ghost Legend, that has brought it to me. Thank you so very very much," Jessie said with tears now rolling down her cheeks.
Thomas DayMoon stepped closer, "Lyssa Kordenay, Jessie has been telling us all of the stories about you she's heard. The prestigious schools of dance you've attended, the title of renown you have, and that ballerinas everywhere respect you. And that you even saved the life of your President himself, along with your man Rodrick, to whom bravery and service is no stranger."
Lyssa curtsied with all the grace of the Prima she was, "I'm flattered."
The old man announced, "As you have brought a gift to us with this honor to Jessie, allow us to give honor to you both. Lyssa I give you the name 'Kimimela'; Butterfly. Butterfly is the bringer of change and I believe to be your totem."
"Thank you DayMoon. I'm very honored to have a name among you and your people; the proud Lakota," Lyssa curtsied again to applause.
He turned to Rodrick then and announced, "Rodrick Mason, you will be known as Wambli-Mni; Water Eagle. It is a reflection of your past and present."
Rodrick nodded to the old medicine man, "My thanks to you DayMoon for this high honor of having a name to be known among your great people Sir."
The tribemembers then applauded them both. Lyssa and Rodrick thanked them all then made to leave. As they were walking out the main doors a voice spoke from behind them.
Thomas Daymoon said, "the vision has come to pass. The Eagle from Water who carries Butterfly, the bringer of change; freed Rabbit and killed Rattlesnake. Now Eagle returns to Water carrying Butterfly."
"We trust this will be kept between us and the spirit world Sir," Lyssa replied.
DayMoon nodded then watched as they drove away into the night, "only those who have Vision may understand you Kimimela, the brave spirit you are."
Book 27 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa and Rodrick head for the border to deal with a deadly smuggling operation but Dannigan knows it may be too much for them. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers. |
CHAPTER 1
Rodrick flew low and fast over the tree tops as the old tune from The Rolling Stones filled the helmet's comm instead of static.
"Approaching target, all safeties off," he said.
"Master arms off, targeting activated; we're hot," Lyssa answered from the gunner's seat.
She currently sat in the forward cockpit of the gunship. An AH-64D Apache designation LongBow. The wicked looking helicopter dove down to fly between two stands of trees then sweep around and bear down on several burned out hulks of old tanks and armored carriers.
"Target acquired," Lyssa announced lining up on the farthest tank.
"NAIL 'EM," Rodrick shouted.
Lyssa let loose with a volley from the rocket pods then watched twelve wire guided rockets streak to the chosen target as the gunship flew sideways around the edge of the area. The hulk erupted with the detonations as Rodrick took note of the incoming Apaches.
"Inbound helos. Hostiles! You're up this time, get us outta here," he said.
Lyssa switched her set to flight controls and cranked the throttle full banking away. Suddenly her music filled the comm, she'd picked out a hard hitting trance piece. Rodrick tightened his harness as Tiesto's Suburban Train blared and smiled. It was the rare version with an all girls choir, Children of Orpheus Choir. He knew there was about to be some moves those guys had never seen before as Lyssa pulled up slightly then barrel rolled to avoid the target lock of the incoming attack ships.
Rodrick had a lot of experience with helicopters and some in gunships. This was new to her. She never said so but she became frustrated quickly. Rodrick suggested that she think of the ship as her body with the main rotor as her point of contact and center of balance. She grasped the concept and then did one even better. She applied dance principles to flight. Her elegant movements felt far more violent than any erratic moves he performed.
Lyssa had the gunship's throttle to the red-line as she pulled them through a tight turn then nosed up. The Apache climbed fast. Rodrick then felt his stomach lurch as she dropped almost to the water's surface following the river. Lyssa was totally silent as her hands and feet worked the controls to nose up and roll again going vertical; as if a pirouette then suddenly slung the tail around and rolling the aircraft completely over. She came out of the improvised loop to bring her weapons to bear on the pursuit, flying between them.
Rodrick grunted with the g-forces then held his breath as she slid sideways over the top of a bridge, dropped down to spin; flying back under and pop up from the other side to take missile shots at the two.
"Simulation over! Lobos One and Two are downed. Return to base Special One," a voice came over all comms.
"I can't believe they did that! Did you see that shit this time Saber, "one of the opposing pilots asked.
"Yeah I saw it. Miracle they aren't a fireball; coulda slammed into that bridge or the river bank. Ballsy moves. Bat-shit fuckin' crazy; but ballsy," the other pilot commented.
Their gunners agreed. Crazy but effective. Lyssa grinned at the overheard exchange as she turned and sped away.
"They're right. We are seriously fuckin' lucky we didn't slam and blast. This is a gunship babe, not your pointe shoes," Rodrick commented.
Lyssa didn't reply to that but did pull back hard on the cyclic making them climb hard then bank even harder eliciting a grunt from Rodrick as he felt the g-force.
"ok. OK," he relented.
She leveled off and flew to the small field. they came in on a standard approach and set down. Eddie and Carl as ground crew tethered the blades after they stopped. The chocks were placed then Eddie as the crew chief began inspecting the air-frame as Lyssa and Rodrick climbed out then signed off on the checklist.
Dannigan watched the gun cam footage of the observation chopper. He laughed at the opposing pilots' exclamations at Lyssa's slick bridge maneuver, they weren't accustomed to the way she moved. She applied ballet principles of movement, the ending of her previous movement being the lead to her next. Madison caught the replay and gasped at the moves.
"My god I thought they were about to crash into the bridge," she said stunned.
"It was close but I think that was her plan, do what your opponent won't and you'll win or die trying," he replied then chuckled," though that opposing pilot was right. That was bat-shit crazy."
"Do you really think they'll have to be sent to Arizona," she asked.
"I hope not, but its looking that way. I'll have to get a third person to fly with them. This will definitely get messy," Dannigan answered.
"Who would you have to send with them," she asked thinking of Pete but he didn't have gunship experience.
Dannigan's face took on a stoney countenance, "Somebody that will say yes."
Madison watched puzzled as he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.
"Joe Landon; its Paul. Yeah its been a while. I have something for you; back-up to my main team. I'll send you the details," Dannigan's conversation was very curt then dropped the receiver back to the cradle.
Madison wracked her brain to remember any and all people named Joe Landon and drew a blank.
Dannigan must have noticed her intent because he stated,"Don't bother trying to place the name, it actually has no value to anybody anymore. Just me and him."
That statement puzzled her even more but she turned and went back to her desk. She couldn't tell the tasking but did hear the chime of a packet being sent out.
Dannigan called out, "upgrade Lyssa and Rodrick to standby status."
She pulled up the tasking code and did so then sent the message to them. It had been a month since a D.E.A. patrol plane had been shot down. From what data that had been able to be retrieved it was two civilian helicopters converted to gunships. She sent everything new to Kimberly on Ram's Rock Island in the Bahamas.
Kimberly read through multiple reports and gathered them into one comprehensive packet. Her sources were coming from Border Patrol, Customs, ATF, DEA and NRO. The National Reconnaissance Office provided the necessary imagery. A new cartel specializing in arms were moving their goods across the border into the U.S. through Arizona. The problem was they were using helicopters that were possibly armed or being escorted by armed helicopters. Inter-Agency chatter intercepts had determined that every so often a thirty mile wide corridor across the border would be made.
For the past fifteen years radar equipped weather balloons were stationed inside the U.S. border marking a perimeter and used to find drug smuggling aircraft flying too low for conventional radar stations to detect. Someone was now destroying those balloons making a thirty mile wide blind-spot every other week. She knew Lyssa and Rodrick had been training to fly gunships for air-to-air combat.
Finally Kimberly caught a break and saw a silhouette. She began enhancing the image and a few minutes later frowned. It was a converted gunship. The latest version Hughes model 500 configured for combat armed with guns on the right side and rockets on the left. The bigger problem was that it wasn't alone, it had a duplicate flying a tight formation with a heavy Bell cargo helicopter trailing behind. Kimberly used other satellites to track the trio north to a series of canyons and lost them.
Hours later she was seriously frustrated and finally saw them but were heading back south, she continued to track them until they crossed back into Mexican airspace and lost the orbit. She put on the list for a KH-18, the latest keyhole satellite with digitally enhanced real-time color and low light capability. There were only 4 that could be tasked to a geo-sync stationary orbit over the southwest U.S.
The Major would have to fool NRO into thinking it was needed for a joint task force. That was the only way to get it. The KH-18's had been on station for only six months and already there were rumors about newer version to be designated KH-20's. If half the stories were true the Major should serious think about finding a way to acquire one. Not only would it have all the newest bells and whistles for imagery but also be able to handle encrypted two way message traffic.
Kimberly liked new toys. Pete accused her of being a magpie, attracted to shiny things. It made her laugh but it was turning out to be accurate. She was enjoying all the new ways to gather her raw intelligence to filter through than what had been provided when she was in the Army. Kimberly finished composing the request to the Major for the satellites to be re-tasked and sent it off then changed into a bikini to go for a swim. Only six more weeks to go and she'd be ready for her final medical procedure. Her previous
life was dead and buried. Kimberly Susan Moore was here to stay.
CHAPTER 2
Gary sat at the table in the shade drinking a cold beer watching the the wind trying to turn the tethered rotor blades of the small gunship.
"Not much longer and we can retire," the man on the other side of the table said cheerfully taking a long drink of beer.
Gary didn't comment but just nodded.
"What's up with you? Is that shit with the plane getting to you," the younger man asked.
"They saw us, I blew 'em outta the sky. End of story," he replied.
"well if the DEA wasn't so nosy they might be around longer, serves 'em right," the younger man chuckled.
Gary took off his sunglasses and gave him a stare colder than the beer they were both drinking, "doesn't matter who it was! The point being you snot-nosed shit, is that it won't be long before somebody sends somebody to do the same to us."
when he didn't answer Gary continued, "Hadn't thought about that,huh? Taylor you better get it into your head that you ain't the best in the air. I'm not the best in the air and I know it. Maybe we'll be able to make enough runs across to retire, before we really piss off the feds and they send somebody after us. Get your head outta your ass and get with the program! Fun and games are over."
Gary stood up and walked into the metal building and slammed a door.
"Geez. Shoot down a DEA plane and he develops a problem suddenly," Taylor commented.
"Guerrero. Senor Gary is not wrong. The Americans, they do not take such things lightly. They get very angry when their agents get killed, even more so when the military advisors they send to work with Federales get killed," the Mexican mechanic said.
Taylor scoffed, "get serious Chavez."
"Even up here in Mexico we hear stories. Columbia: the leadership of a cartel were killed and fed to big animals not from there. Brasil; Ramon Padosa, himself, untouchable for years and then POOF! Nada. He was gone and his whole organization destroyed in one week. Even the politician in Washington he controlled, gone. Los Angeles of your country. A young new player trying to make his move, burnt to the ground with all inside muerte. We learn from this si? Americans will only allow so much then they come. When they do come; no mas. They make everything no more. Comprende," the Mexican cautioned.
Taylor scoffed at him, "Ha! Me and Gary are the best. Chavez, you worry too much amigo. Ain't nobody around right now that can take us on. I checked before we started this little operation. Only one guy had higher skills than us and he bought it years ago. Hell, these days he's barely mentioned anymore. Some legend."
Chavez shrugged his shoulders and stood up to go check the fuel filters for sand from the recent sandstorm.
Lyssa and Rodrick walked around the new Apache models. AH-64H, Apache Lance. The limited run of single seat versions of the gunships had lighter air-frames to accommodate extended pylons for more armament and had more powerful turbines. The D-model currently still deployed in bulk could go as fast as 223 miles per hour when light on weapons and fuel.
These new models could exceed 250 with full combat load and fuel. Enhanced radar and thermal the imagery for targeting along with laser designators. These were totally blacked out with no markings at all, not even tail numbers. What Lyssa didn't understand was why there were three and not just the two.
A ground crew of three were there to maintain the aircraft and that was it. Each one currently sat inside an inflatable hanger with another similar set up as operations and then several tents. Lyssa and Rodrick had been shown their tent and settled in but another tent sat all by itself, as if a matter of safety on the other side of the area.
"How the hell did he pull this off," Lyssa asked looking around.
"Who cares," Rodrick said eagerly looking over one of the vicious looking gunships.
"SIR!!!!MA'AM!!!!! INCOMING MESSAGE TRAFFIC," one of the soldiers yelled from the operations tent.
Lyssa and Rodrick hurried over and read the packet. In the briefing it was suspected that the next day a corridor would be opened and the gunships would make their run north. All three of them were to intercept and destroy penetrating aircraft.
"All three of us,"Lyssa asked the soldier.
"Yes Ma'am," he answered.
"When will the other pilot get here,"Rodrick asked.
"He's been here Sir," the soldier pointed to the solitary tent, "he has his own extension of the comms set up and everything. We're under orders not to go over there."
"Orders," Lyssa asked.
"YES MA'AM! Anybody that goes near that tent'll get shot he said. Ma'am I believe him too," the soldier stated looking very nervous, "kept his helmet on and visor down the whole time. I can't even tell you what he looks like."
Rodrick and Lyssa looked at each other puzzled.
"All I can tell you is he had a small black and white Texas flag on the side of his helmet and a really BIG pistol on his right leg. Like .50 cal big. Kinda like yours Ma'am but bigger," he added.
Lyssa looked at Rodrick, "A Desert Eagle .50? What pilot carries that?"
Rodrick shrugged, "You got me but sounds like he's seriously wound up. Hell you carry two .40's but a .50 is something to take serious."
"I'll say this, whoever he is knows what he's doing in a helo. Came in balls-to-the-wall and put it right in front of the far hangar like a kitten jumping off the couch onto a pillow. We had high cross winds at the time and like; twenty-five meters of visibility," the soldier added.
Rodrick looked impressed with the observation as did Lyssa.
"I understand you're all hush-hush black ops types but that guy. Something's different. WAY different," the soldier commented referring to Lyssa and Rodrick wearing their facial camo to obscure their faces.
They knew the ground-crew chief wasn't thrilled with this temporary duty. Go out to the middle of no-where and working with people that used no names and even hid their faces. It wasn't a dream assignment but he was being paid a lot, as were the other members of the crew. They had no problems being in the desert and were completely up of the new models. Rodrick had joked they were from the Groom Lake Test Facility in Nevada.
Madison routed through the confirmation of Lyssa and Rodrick receiving the packet. A second confirmation came through as well signed at the bottom with a black and white picture of the Texas flag.
"Major....," she called out.
Dannigan came out and looked over her shoulder then nodded, "Good. He's ready."
"Sir, I don't understand. Who is he," Madison asked confused.
"Somebody from a very long time ago. Let it go Madison, some stories are better off not shared," He said and turned back to his office.
Kimberly's request for satellite re-tasking had been hard to acquire but it'd been done and now if they didn't intercept and eliminate they'd be able to pinpoint and be ready. Already the canyon layout was being studied by those flying.
The Drug Enforcement Agency was screaming for the Army or Air Force to intervene. D.O.D. already knew an operation was underway but was being respectful of the classification and not telling the D.E.A. anything other than the request for action was being reviewed. Dannigan understood the anger of the agency, they'd lost three good men when the observation plane had been
shot down.
The biggest issue was what would happen when Lyssa and Rodrick found out about Landon. A name like his carried a lot of weight in the Army. Even after all these years. Most assumed he was dead and he preferred it that way.
It wasn't that Lyssa and Rodrick couldn't keep a secret but they had the tendency of reaching out and trying to help. Landon wouldn't have any of that. He was a man that patiently awaited the one mission he wouldn't return from. So far he didn't express disappointment but Dannigan knew he was. Dannigan was actually surprised the pilot hadn't committed suicide by now to escape the hell he lived in.
CHAPTER 3
Joseph Landon studied the satellite photographs of the canyons then ran them through a highly specialized three dimensional mapping program. It allowed him to literally fly the canyons as if in a helicopter. Using the program he did so, exploring each turn and twist. Landon had always been gifted with a great memory recall, not quite identic. The ever impressive Full Immediate Identic Recall, known commonly as photographic memory, but he was as close as it got. Gift and curse, he never forgot things though he
wish he could.
One day though it wouldn't be a problem, he'd be dead, but until then he'd keep on taking missions like this in hope that it would be the one that ended him. Suicide was for cowards in his opinion and he wouldn't give anybody the satisfaction of pitying him. He read through the limited information dossiers again of the man and woman he saw fly in.
Designation: Steel Butterfly- deep cover black ops, liquidation specialist, Special Forces/Delta trained. Insurgency/counter-insurgency, hostage rescue, assassination, espionage. One of the deadliest women he had ever heard of.
Designation: Ramrod-ex-SEAL, Riverine warfare, ship-to-ship operations of assault and rescue, rated to fly anything that does.
Both had recent special intensive air-to-air gunship training and outscored five years of past inductees and two of the current instructor teams. He watched the feed of the smuggler security helos and rated them high. He'd spent time as an instructor too, both basic and advanced gunship flight. In case this Steel Butterfly and Ramrod couldn't take them out he'd pop up and do it, unless that third chopper took to fight then he'd be required to take on a gunship while she went after the heavy helicopter.
That was the rub, she. A she. A woman in a gunship. He'd be suffering the nightmares again for at least a month because of her. When he closed his eyes he'd be hearing the screams and smell the scent of burning all over again. Both himself; and her.
Gary awoke just before sunrise and stated checking over his ride. The small helicopter was light and armed to the teeth with guns and rockets. It was fast and agile. Few could stand against it. Only an expert in an American Apache or Russian Kamov called the Black Shark could give it a fight and few were up to the task. Russian pilots had no cause and all the qualified American
pilots were currently engaged overseas. Air Force jets couldn't maneuver through the canyons at such speeds without stalling and crashing, normal speed would make them hit the walls and crash.
He looked over and saw Taylor walking around his own checking it. This time was different. They weren't escorting a load of weapons as usual but were running a shipment of cocaine. Their success and audacity had earned them a higher paying commission from an importer. Over a ton of the white powder on this run and the payment for it on the return trip. They had been paid in advance.
The corridor would be clear before they got within fifty miles of the border. Taylor gave him a thumbs-up, climbed into his cockpit and began start-up. Gary did the same and within minutes they were streaking toward the border when the call came through. The balloons were down and the corridor was open for thirty miles along the border.
Lyssa and Rodrick were lifting off when they saw the dark figure leave his solitary tent and climb into the remaining gunship and lift off behind them.
"Glad to have you with us,"Rodrick called out.
"No radio chatter until enemy craft have fired on us, take your stations," a very calm voice answered back.
Rodrick frowned inside his helmet but did as ordered. They were in their concealed positions for five minutes when the three craft came into range. Lyssa turned on her designator and painted the heavy helo. Rodrick tracked it for a few seconds then fired off an air to air missile. The two gunships split off but the missile moved too fast for the cargo helicopter and was hit, exploding into a massive fireball raining down a white dust and metal debris.
The two gunships came about and angled for rocket shots on the two Apaches. Lyssa had her music playing and cranked her throttle hard pitching down to peel away as the rockets streaked past.
"I'm engaged," she reported.
"Copy that," the cold voice answered back.
Rodrick as well cut in,"I'm engaged too."
"Copy. They'll try to run you both into the canyons. Let 'em," he instructed.
Lyssa had her hands full as the pilot slid in behind her and opened up with his guns. She turned up her music and dove into the canyons. Rodrick had slid behind the other gunship and herded him into the canyon with a short burst of rocket fire. The nimble Huey went to full throttle trying to speed ahead and set up an ambush for him.
Lyssa moved through the canyons all but scraping the walls like a skateboarder on ramps dodging the auto-fire from behind her when she pulled up hard climbing a wall then launching out to pirouette just above the rim and flip over as she had before to dive back. An automatic system had locked onto the pilots frequencies to eavesdrop their exchange.
A young voice called out, "Gary; these guys are good. Got one on my six now. I'll lead them deeper into the maze. You got a position yet?"
"NO! I GOT THE OTHER ONE ON MY SIX! THESE AREN'T REGULAR APACHES TAYLOR HAUL ASS,"Gary bellowed back.
Lyssa let loose with her Bushmaster cannon and felt the frame shake as tracers streaked alongside the one called Taylor as he banked hard going deeper in the canyon. Lyssa caught a glimpse of their third Apache through a small opening in the wall tracking the same direction.
Apparently Taylor had spotted it too because he yelled out, "Hey Gary they got another one snaking around. I'll take him out as soon as I make this one smack a wall."
A moment later Taylor swore as a row of tracers slammed into the side of his helicopter and the gunship streaked by underneath him following a different canyon path. Gary received similar treatment moments later.
Gary announced, "these guys are pissing me off Taylor! Moving around like they own these canyons! OH SHIT PULL UP!!!!"
Gary and Taylor found themselves flying straight at each other and pulled back hard to stop then hover looking at each other. They both turned around and saw that the canyons leading to this junction were now blocked by each by an Apache.
"Who the fuck are you," Gary demanded.
The targeting lock on shrieked as a calm voice came over all frequencies, "LoneStar."
"OH FUCK......"Taylor yelled as the missiles streaked from the Apache gunships and slammed into both the Hueys blasting them from the sky.
"Return to base," LoneStar ordered in his icy calm voice then hovered out of the canyon and headed back.
Lyssa and Rodrick followed him back in tight formation and landed. They both hurried from their cockpits and stood before his both saluting as LoneStar climbed out. He simply nodded and they dropped the salute.
"Fly damn good for a dead guy," Rodrick commented.
"Yeah. Heard it before," came a voice muffled by helmet and visor.
Lyssa placed her hand gently on Rodrick's arm and slowly shook her head. Rodrick quieted and Lyssa stepped forward.
She spoke gently, "thanks for being with us LoneStar. An honor to work with you Lieutenant Colonel."
"Dismissed," he said.
They both stood at attention and saluted as he turned and walked back to his tent. Lyssa was more confused than Rodrick. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph 'LoneStar' Landon, the best gunship pilot the Army had produced since Vietnam, was supposed to be dead from a crash in Afghanistan.
Dannigan read the after action reports. an investigating team would be flown in to sort through the debris. Already the base was being dismantled. Lyssa, Rodrick and LoneStar would be flown out in the morning after the transport team for the Apaches took off to return the gunships to their base.
Dannigan sent a message back to LoneStar that he should accompany Lyssa and Rodrick back as far as the east coast then fly down to Rodrick's private field in the Bahamas for some R&R, privacy assured.
LoneStar didn't answer that so he had no idea if he'd take up the offer but he sent a message to Kimberly anyway to expect him. Kimberly messaged back that Pete had flown north to see Madison and would be by herself for the weekend since the mechanic was spending time with family in the states and not due back for at least a week.
He doubted LoneStar would accept so he didn't feel the need to explain his quirks. A lot of people carried their issues like baggage but not him. LoneStar's issues were more serious. No way in heaven or Hell could anybody tell him to set it aside and get away with it. Still, maybe he would go down there and kick back for a day or two.
CHAPTER 4
LoneStar sat in the co-pilot seat as Rodrick flew the G-10 in to land at his private airfield.
"Nobody here but me for the weekend," LoneStar asked muffled by his helmet as usual.
"Kimberly is here but she spends her time in the hangar office with her computers," Lyssa answered.
"Its a private island. People don't just wander up. That blue trailer is where you can stay and if you need anything Kimberly can take care of it and the phone in the office have mine and Lyssa's numbers pre-programmed," Rodrick added, "Can stay for a week or longer if you want. We'll be back in the states for a week then swing through on our way to Cayman."
LoneStar nodded and picked up his flight-bag to wander over to the trailer as Rodrick refueled. Lyssa passed over the cases of groceries to Kimberly along with other things she'd requested. Kimberly hadn't expected them and came out of her trailer wearing a short denim skirt and cami-T with her hair wrapped in a towel. She signed all the necessary papers Lyssa had brought for her then hugged them both and watched them leave flying north not knowing that a helmeted figure watched from inside the guest trailer.
He watched as she came to his door a few minutes later and taped a note to it then go back inside the hangar. The note was simple,
Laundry is inside the hangar as is the kitchen, I cook at 6 unless working. enjoy the beach.
She'd signed it simply with a flourished K. Lyssa and Rodrick said her name was Kimberly and she worked intel. That was it other than they were alone.
He stepped out and looked around. It was the tropical paradise they'd said. He was impressed with the assortment of aircraft in the three hangars. One Tomcat fighter, no gunships but there was three helicopters as well as numerous fixed wing aircraft and a couple of amphibious. The hangars were rated past a category five hurricane according to Rodrick so if a storm came the safest place to be was in any of the hangars.
He wandered into what apparently was the main hangar. It housed the helos and fighter and had a second level with walls. The office mentioned he assumed. He found himself walking up and then saw movement to his side and a woman with her back to the door bent over doing something to her hair. The sound of his boot scuffing the floor caught her attention making her stand up flipping her hair back.
"Oh. Hi. I didn't expect you to come up," Kimberly said.
LoneStar stood stock still in shock at the strawberry-blonde woman with brilliant green eyes.
"Wendy...." his muffled voice said from inside the helmet.
"I'm Kimberly," she introduced herself.
LoneStar turned and walked away without another word leaving Kimberly more than slightly puzzled.
Lyssa and Rodrick walked into the virginia beach house and he sprawled on the couch.
"Tomorrow we can start getting things closed up here to go back to Cayman," Lyssa said.
"Sounds good to me. All this cold and wet is getting to me. I hate winter, kinda depressing," Rodrick muttered as she slid to lay on top of him.
"Well its not my favorite thing either but we can't sequester ourselves on Cayman all the time," Lyssa admitted getting comfortable.
"What about retirement," he asked.
"That's way down the road, we still have the wedding to do Hotrod," Lyssa chuckled.
Rodrick laughed, "well let's eat then you do your bubble bath thing and we'll go to bed to kill this jetlag."
They both laughed then set about having dinner then her bubble bath but ended up going to sleep in front of the fireplace together.
Kimberly looked out at the figure on the beach. He still wore his flight-suit and helmet. She couldn't understand why, they were alone on the island, he could at least shed the helmet and enjoy the breeze alone. A quick check of the timer showed forty-five more minutes before dinner would be ready so she went down. He didn't move from where he'd been standing for the past three hours when she stepped up beside him.
"The sunsets are amazing here, I guess because the air is so clean," she commented.
when he didn't respond she turned to walk back to the hangar, "dinner'll be ready in half an hour or so. I'll set a plate in the fridge if you don't want to join me just clean up after yourself."
He didn't join her but when she came back into the kitchen for a bottle of water she saw that he had eaten and washed up after. sometime after two A.M. she heard a very loud and clear bellow, "WENDY! NO!"
Kimberly didn't take the time to bother changing from her gown, just grabbed her pistol and bolted to the blue trailer nearby. Outside she could hear thrashing about from within. The door was locked so she felt under the skirting and grabbed the spare key and unlocked it to dive inside and stalk to the rear.
At the bedroom door she looked in and saw him all alone thrashing back and forth screaming to recoil back then force himself forward again as if fighting an unseen enemy that denied attack.
Constantly he called out the name,"WENDY," finally screaming it out animalistically then curling up as if trying to protect himself from something surrounding him. Finally he bolted upright and looked straight at her. A cloud passed letting moonlight pour in revealing Kimberly in the door way.
LoneStar surged forward oblivious to the pistol and wrapped his arms around her, "be real. Be real. Wendy be real."
Kimberly's lightning mind snapped some pieces together and instead of doing the kindest thing, she did the right one.
Softly she said, "its Kimberly. I'm sorry but I'm Kimberly, you were dreaming. I'm Kimberly."
He pulled back and looked at her finally seeing her. Kimberly couldn't believe what she was seeing and now understood why the helmet was worn constantly. The other pieces clicked into place as well as she stared into his face, half of it had been severely damaged obviously by fire. Crystal blue eyes haunted by devastation stared back into her green ones then closed as the mangled man fighting night terrors slowly sank to the floor and screamed with all the air inside his lungs.
Kimberly held him close and whispered, "I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be. I'm so sorry."
After a few moments he caught enough breath and began to sob. Kimberly began to weep too, she now understood some of what Rodrick had gone through with Lyssa when they first got serious. She knew two things for certain. First; the man she held now was severely damaged more than she'd ever heard of before and second; this was something she'd never be able to leave alone until she understood it all.
"I don't even know your name but I want to help. Please tell me what happened to you," she whispered.
"We were together in an Apache heavy fire and the rocket hit us. We slammed in and exploded. Fire was everywhere. I couldn't get out, couldn't get her out. Wendy's dead, burned to death in front of me."
Kimberly held him tighter, "Who was Wendy?"
The scarred face looked up, eyes again filled with devastation, "I'm Joe Landon, LoneStar. Wendy was my wife and I killed her."
Kimberly gasped. The name LoneStar had once been a name feared and respected by pilots and had all but become a nostalgic whisper. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Landon; rumored to be dead, yet here he was breaking down in her arms. Kimberly wept more seeing the once great pilot thought to be invincible now a mangled shadow of himself. The first rays of sunlight began to filter through as she continued to hold him close, exhausted from the ordeal he slipped into exhausted sleep as Kimberly's tears still fell.
After Life!!
Book 28 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Terrorists have taken hostages in Seattle, the O.I.C.A. scrambles into action. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Madison brought in a printed report,"Major this came in, urgent!"
Dannigan took the report and read it then looked up,"where is everybody?"
Madison replied,"Lyssa and Rodrick are settling back in at their house on Grand Cayman, Pete will be returning to Bahamas tomorrow, Kimberly is at the hangar and I think she is still entertaining a guest, she was a bit cryptic about it."
Dannigan raised his eyebrows at that,"He's still there?"
Madison shrugged not exactly knowing who it was.
"get everybody on a conference call," Dannigan said.
Madison nodded then went back to her desk and set up the call.
"They're all on Major," she buzzed him.
Dannigan snatched up the handset," Listen up everybody we got a big one. Hostage situation is evolving in Seattle. LoneStar are you still there?"
"Still here," he replied flatly.
"Good, could really use your help on this. Somebody has to fly and I need all the boots I can put on the ground. Lyssa will lead the assault force of herself, Rod and Pete with you flying them in and Kimberly running electronics in a chopper orbiting."
"we're in," Kimberly replied after a moment.
"We'll pick you up within the hour," Rodrick said.
"Major, we may need something extra. If the hostage takers scatter we'll need a dog. Its a lot to ask but can you get us an Ops dog," Lyssa asked.
"Not a bad idea, make a stop off in Nashville Rodrick I'll see what I can get. An armament load out will be there waiting for you," Dannigan answered.
"No sweat Paul. Pete, meet us in Nashville," Rodrick replied.
"You got it boss, Kim grab my bag out of the locker please," Pete affirmed.
"Ok that's it. Go to work people; do what you do best," Dannigan closed the call.
Madison waited while he pulled up the documents needed then handed them to her to send out marked Time Critical/Top Secret.
Dannigan called General Singleton who answered on the the second ring, "Singleton."
"Wow. Answering your own phone still,"Dannigan commented.
"Oh fuck me. You're calling me now. What is it you need Bran...Dannigan," the General groaned.
"Nothing outrageous. I need a dog; a tactical dog," Dannigan answered casually.
"A tactical dog? when," Singleton asked.
"No biggie Sir, just needs to be in Nashville in five hours," he remarked.
Singleton almost dropped the phone, "Nashville in five hours? When did you go nuts?"
Dannigan laughed, "Welcome to my world General."
A few minutes later Singleton answered, "Ok. I have a dog that you can use but only if the conditions are right so pay attention; ordinance detection and assault. Primarily for a Sweeper team. got that?"
"What's the catch,"Dannigan asked knowingly.
"Due for retirement," the General answered flatly.
That explained a lot. Sweeper teams were Special Forces A-Teams that basically went in and neutralized Hard-Sites. In other words they went into verified full hostile locations and completely wiped out all personnel. They left ghost-towns in their wake. That meant the dog in question was so highly trained for those operations it couldn't function in any other capacity and therefore dangerous.
Such situations had been carefully monitored since Vietnam but occasionally some slipped though. During Vietnam many units had used dogs, especially those in the Phoenix Project. Very few of those highly trained canines were able to be brought back from there. Since then D.O.D had protocols in place to ensure the canines remained stable, but some slipped through. Dannigan understood the situation now.
"We can take care of that too, private terminal at Nashville airport" Dannigan offered.
"The dog will be there when your people arrive, language is German," Singleton said.
"Thanks General. Have a great day," Dannigan commented snarkily.
"Stay off my damn phone line and I will you renegade," Singleton chuckled and disconnected.
Rashiid carefully looked out the window. Nothing moved on the street below. The school bus had been taken four hours ago and the video of his demands released two hours ago. Naturally the FBI had tried to negotiate but his quick shot from the RPG-7 destroyed both the agent and the vehicle. they pulled back as he instructed them. Rashiid declared that to be his first,last and only warning, obey; or swim in the blood of their children. The American government would have to release all the prisoners of Guantanomo Bay or live with the executions of the children they could have saved. The Sword of Mohammed would prevail one way or another in twelve more hours. Rashiid himself would either be the hero of Islam or its latest martyr.
S.S.A.C Jack Perkins wasn't happy. The Bureau had ordered him to pull back all together, even his spotter teams now occupied positions almost a quarter of a mile out using high powered scopes and laser mic sets to try keeping tabs but the terrorists were being smart and rarely talking close enough to windows to be heard. the Joint Hostage Rescue Task Force's assault team were on the way from various parts of the country and D.O.D. was burning up every phone trying to get either Delta Force or DEVGRU(SEAL Team Six) authorized to move in.
They each had a highly trained platoon of hardcore shooters for this type of situation. Though he couldn't say so officially, he actually wanted one of them to come in for this. Federal Task forces looked great on paper and went far for the purpose of inter-agency cooperation but this was way different. They didn't train together everyday for things like this and that made the big difference he'd heard.
The Posse Comitatus Act stood in the way, Federal Mandate that U.S. military could not be used for domestic situations. The purpose of the act is to limit the powers of the federal government in using its military personnel to act as domestic law enforcement personnel. It was passed as an amendment to an army appropriation bill following the end of Reconstruction, and was subsequently updated in 1956 and 1981.
He also knew that if they really had to they could just attach to Homeland Security and override that mandate temporarily. The paperwork involved would occupy at least a month afterward though. He hoped they would do that otherwise this may very well turn into a fiasco worse than Ruby Ridge or Waco. It was bad enough that their negotiator and his partner had been blown up by a rocket propelled grenade. He had a feeling of certainty that if the military didn't get involved soon things would go very bad for everyone, including Federal agencies.
Lyssa sat loading magazines going over the building schematics with
Kimberly as Rodrick and Pete also loaded magazines. The sun had already set. For once transit time had worked out in their favor. They'd be going in under the cover of darkness.
"ETA to Seattle: one hour," LoneStar called out over the speakers from the cockpit.
The black Belgian shepherd lying next to Lyssa's feet didn't even raise its head. The private delivering the kenneled dog had been immediately surprised when the dog responded to woman in black with her face obscured by elaborate swirls of facial paint. He had handed her the file on the dog which she looked over quickly.
Lyssa had said coldly in German to follow her, "Warlock gehorchen ."
The dog walked beside her steadily back to the plane.
Lyssa ordered him to sit, "legen."
The canine sat quietly as if at attention. It was accustomed to wearing a special vest carrying a camera and speaker so that it could be commanded from a distance.
From its service record Warlock was the best Special Operations dog but had become too stressed from being operational in a Sweeper team and could no longer be trusted outside a combat environment. He was due to be retired from service, by lethal injection. If his record were to be declassified he'd be listed for earning four purple hearts, and the silver star.
Kimberly had hacked into the reports from the FBI surveilling the site and used them to make the basis for her layout and augmented with satellite imagery. Together with Rodrick and Pete they formed an insertion plan. the roof of the building was flat so that would allow for an airdrop. A PaveHawk was standing by for them to use. It had been fitted with all the neccessary electronics Kimberly would need and be able to fly high enough for them to jump from without the terrorists knowing they were doing so.
After the magazines were loaded Lyssa and Rodrick assembled the precision munitions; he made two hole cutters called Arleigh-grams, in honor of the S.W.A.T. team member of the Los Angeles Police that came up with the idea.
Rodrick partially filled a bicycle innertube with water and then attached rope like explosive called DetCord while Lyssa attached flat panel explosives called Deta-Sheet to a styrofoam template dubbed the Slam'n Bam, it was used for doors and walls. They all were already suited up in black BDU's and body armor except Lyssa.
Lyssa was wearing a new version of her form fitted black bodysuit that had its own ballistic rating and tactical harness while Rodrick and Pete had assault vests. They applied their facial camo except for Kimberly who would be wearing a flight helmet and staying inside the chopper. Lyssa had just finished fitting Warlock with his special vest and put on her low jump rig when LoneStar called out.
"Boots and Saddles people. We're on final approach for Seattle," his calm icy voice announced.
The plane roared in low and set down like an eagle in a tree rolling to a stop just outside the PaveHawk's rotor span. Kimberly had modified the transponder to identify them as Phantom-14. Warlock had heard the slamming of magazines and snapping of bolts. The tactical dog understood now was the time to work and had sat up waiting for Lyssa's command. She didn't have to say anything just whistled and he bolted to follow close at her side running from the plane to the chopper. He even barked his own answer as everyone else yelled, "good to go," and lean against her body as the helo took off climbing fast.
Dannigan spoke calmly into the phone,"Yes Sir, we will the situation resolved within the hour Attorney General Stevens."
"And what will the acceptable loss percentage be," he asked.
"Sir you misunderstand. There is no 'acceptable' loss," Dannigan answered coldly.
"Colonel Duncan I have the utmost confidence in you and your people's capabilities; but to say there will be no loss at all is a bit over-confident," the Attorney general retorted.
Dannigan resisted all urges and kept his voice even, "Sir we're not the FBI or ATF, we don't lose. Ever. That comes from being combat specialists. Not a 'diversified group of agents from collaborating agencies formed for the common good of federal cooperation'. Sir."
Stevens knew the Colonel had quoted from the original memo of the proposed formation of the Joint Task Force.
The Attorney General barely kept his calm, "Just see to it that your people are as you claim or I'll have their heads on a pike and you before a Senate grandjury for violation of Posse Comitatus. COLONEL!"
Dannigan cradled the receiver after hearing the Attorney General slam his down, "fucking yutz. What the president ever saw in that idiot, we'll never know.
Rashiid walked around the small improvised cell made of fencing to hold the children as one of his men sat and translated the Koran to them. One girl protested that she was catholic and was not supposed to listen. That made him chuckle to himself. A boy simply shrugged and said all religions were lies invented by the lazy to exploit the weaker minded; hence their current situation, adding as well that he pitied the man translating for being so easily and thoroughly brainwashed. The boy blamed the lack of education in the middle east.
Rashiid stood amused as the boy and his man debated. The boy then revealed both of his parents were highly educated, his father a computer software engineer and his mother a physicist at the university. Apparently both had some psychology training because the boy was very good at dealing with people that he perceived at being troubled. He smiled thinking of the old phrase springing to mind, 'Immovable object and irresistable force' and how very applicable it was now. The other men that were occasionally paying attention were becoming amused as well. He would have to save the boy's execution for last. It would be entertaining to see how he reacted to the deaths of the other children in front of him.
The men positioned at the windows to watch outside knew not to speak unless necessary. They would signal for attention then use they're previously rehearsed hand signals to report anything. When the sun arose the prison in cuba would be empty or the first execution would take place. He had chosen the abandoned site well. Over one hundred meters all the way around it was empty concrete lot.
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa heard Kimberly over the comms, "we're green-lighted for insertion. Two minutes from DZ, final check out."
Rodrick helped clip Warlock's jump harness to Lyssa's rig and the special protective eyewear on called Doggles. Warlock was well accustomed to parachute operations and gave no problems. He did paw Rodrick's hand twice and bark once then all but freeze.
"I guess that means ol' rover is good to go," he quipped and patted the dog's side roughly.
The dog heard the phrase and replied with two quick barks.
Lyssa gave a thumbs up and he raised his paw then went to a relaxed posture in the harness.
"Over the DZ, stand in the door," LoneStar's calm voice came over the comms.
Pete opened the door and guided Lyssa forward to look out. Since she was the awkward jumper she would be first out over the DropZone. Pete and Rodrick would follow as they were more manueverable. She crouched in the open doorway and held up her right hand giving the thumbs-up ready sign watching Pete.
LoneStar called out, "GO!"
Pete waved down. Lyssa leaned forward to drop out and opened her chute. A moment later Pete and Rodrick both jumped falling past her and opened their chutes to glide in.
****
"SIR," an agent called out to Perkins.
Perkins looked over to the man in the van, "What is it?"
"That helo over head just deployed personnel. One of the spotter teams just saw chutes deploy. Confirming; three chutes are inbound from a PaveHawk now orbiting the site. Sir what's going on? Are the terrorists being reinforced," the young man asked.
Perkins looked up to the dark sky, "god I hope not! Tell the spotters to report all activity of those jumpers!"
Rodrick landed gently on the sloped metal roof of the tower while Pete slammed hard into the sentry on a catwalk. Lyssa and Warlock landed on the roof rougher than her usual landing but with no injuries to her or the dog. She quickly released him then stripped off her chute. She clicked her comm twice and received a double-click from Rodrick and a triple-click from Pete. She and Warlock approached the access door and he sniffed it then growled. It was wired and he could smell the explosives.
Quickly Lyssa attached the Slam'n Bam to the wall,"One; Door's wired, entry through wall. Ready."
"Two; I'm ready," Rodrick answered.
"Three; ready," Pete answered as well.
Lyssa crouched down and shielded the dog's head to protect his sensitive ears then counted down, "on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark."
All three charges went off at once.
"FUHREN," she ordered in German and Warlock bolted inside.
Rodrick and Pete simply rolled into the holes made by the Arleigh-grams and rappelled down inside shooting at the terrorists as they descended. The first gunner Lyssa saw fell to a burst of auto-fire from her CAR-15. Warlock, who had been completely silent, streaked past to the one behind slamming into him snarling. The terrorist gunman wasn't even able to cry out in alarm or even pain. Now the dog was making noise, simply a low growl.
She knew now why he was to be retired, he didn't go for detaining him by grabbing an arm. The dog had slammed him to the floor and clamped down on the man's neck then ripped it open. Warlock continued to ravage the gunner.
Lyssa ran by triggering a burst into the man's chest yelling in German, "FUHREN."
Pete yelled out, "HIT THE FLOOR KIDS!"
The children immediately obeyed as his rounds snapped over their heads to hit gunners surrounding the cage. Rodrick calmly stalked past ripping a gunman apart firing full-auto.
Rodrick called out, "Get'em outta here Three!"
"On it Two," he called back over their comms taking down two more terrorists with a volley of fire then shooting the lock to yank the gate open.
Pete waved and ordered, "c'mon outta there kids! Gotta Go! Gotta Go!"
The children obeyed immediately as a gunman ran up and began to point his rifle at them.
"Warlock! VERNICHTEN!," Lyssa ordered in German to kill.
Warlock jumped, snarling, to bring him down. The terrorist's scream was cut short as the Belgian shepherd's teeth shredded his throat. One of the kids pointed at another gunner and yelled, "HIM! That's the leader!"
Lyssa immediately turned and directed her fire at him making the man turn and run for the open doorway. Rodrick dropped the last one in his field of fire then took after him followed by Lyssa as she called out.
"WARLOCK VERFOLGEN," Lyssa ordered, the chase command.
The Belgian shepherd tore one last shred and bolted to follow Lyssa. Pete directed the kids out through a side doorway. The dog pelted after Lyssa and Rodrick, his attention solely on the figure ahead of them. Eerily he was silent, streaking after the deserting terrorist. After two months of boredom his canine mind recognized one thing, he was doing what he was trained to do.
"Gunner on the catwalk Three," Kimberly spoke over the comms.
He kicked the door open, rushed out and held the trigger down; auto-fire hammering the sniper until he fell over the railing.
"SWAT teams inbound, directing to Three. Hold position at the gate then retreat back in," Kimberly instructed.
"Copy Sky," he answered.
Pete held back as vans rolled up spilling out the tactical teams to herd the kids inside protected vehicles.
"Sky, I'm clear," he called out.
"Copy Three. Circle around to join the rest of the assault team," she directed him.
"Copy that," he answered.
Joseph Perkins couldn't believe it when the spotters told him the three parachutists landed inside. He had no choice after three simultaneous explosions went off.
Immediately a strange female voice came over all their comms, "All ground units; standby for hostage retrieval, assault team has gone hot."
Within seconds of that exchanges of auto-fire could be heard. The agents that had been scanning for outgoing signal traffic picked up on the assault team and stared at each other in disbelief as they patched it to Perkins.
One agent listening commented, "the woman is a canine handler. Sounds like instructions in German."
They listened as the auto-fire roared then finally the first female voice came back on for them, "tactical units move in on western gate for hostage pick-up. Front gate for last of hostile force. BE ADVISED; Assault team in pursuit, stand clear."
"FUCK YES! GO GO GO," Perkins bellowed.
Sirens were ignored as the teams rolled out to intercept. Perkins himself hanging onto the side of the lead truck heading for the front gate arriving just in time to see the leader turn and fire at the two people and a black dog chasing after him unphased.
'They must be wearing body armor,' he thought knowing they were taking hits as the dog circled around to attack him from the side.
Two pistol shots rang out just as the canine jumped slamming the gunman to the ground and attacking. The woman yelled a command and the dog slowly backed off barking and snarling as they approached bearing down with their own rifles. They both shot into gunman's shoulders rendering his arms useless. The dog whined once then snarled menacingly and barked closely in front of him.
"TELL ME YOUR BACK-UP PLAN! WHAT'S THE NEXT TARGET," the tall man in black demanded.
The gunner called Rashid began yelling out in arabic.
the woman called out in German, "WARLOCK ERHASCHEN!"
The dog attacked viciously snapping and biting at the man's face, neck and arms as he twisted and screamed.
she ordered the dog off, "ZURECKSETZEN!"
The dog backed off again, she made a demand in arabic herself. The blood-covered dog stalked around the terrorist in circle snarling with an occasional whine then barking threateningly.
Perkins knew this had to be a special military team from the way they moved and gave no quarter much less calling the dog off the way police or federal agents would. A police or agency dog would be called to return to the handler. Not this one. It stayed in the fight, ready to attack again.
As he and his men approached the dog took notice and barked at them clearly warning them to stay back.
"Hold back," he ordered.
Now that he was closer he could see the swirl of facial paint obscuring the woman's face and streaks across the man's making them both unrecognizable. A moment later the tall man translated from arabic that gunmen were currently staged to take-over a local elementary school in two hours. Perkins ordered two of the SWAT teams to the location as the man and woman stepped close to aim their rifles at the downed gunman's head.
The woman spoke in a cold voice, "Past the gates; before the Devil's throne. I've been to Hell....."
"Tell them we sent you," the man finished.
They both fired a burst into the leader's head. All the agents and police stood there stunned to see such a summary execution like that as the couple turned and walked away followed by the dog snarling back at the crowd. The PaveHawk chopper landed and with another man, they climbed in carrying the wounded dog then lifted off.
CHAPTER 4
Dannigan read the reports filed by all the agencies and the Attorney General; all fuming that none of the terrorists at the site had been taken alive including the leader, that had been essentially executed on the spot after revealing the group's back-up plan.
The Attorney General was beside himself with fury that the agency responsible for the assault didn't exist and nobody could be contacted about it, screaming at D.O.D. for tricking him into allowing one of their Special Operations teams loose.
He'd even went after the Joint Special Operations Command demanding identities. The JSOC Commander who happened to be at the White House situation room, referred to as The Woodshed, the entire time calmly told the Attorney General that if he continued to badger him about operations not conducted by the military he'd personally administer what he called 'a life altering ass beating' on the White House lawn.
The Attorney General had to leave the grizzled Army General alone because the President himself, along with the Directors of the CIA, NSA, FBI, ATF and Homeland Security, had also been there and knew nothing of the operation. For over a month now the Attorney General had been burning up the phone of every Agency in the Intelligence community trying to find Dannigan and his people. Even a call to General Singleton of Special Forces and getting no closer than he was the day of the event.
One day the Freedom of Information Act would catch up to them but until then the Office of Immediate Covert Action would remain ghosts and rumors. He still found it odd that Lyssa and Rodrick got the dog medical treatment and took it back to their house in Cayman but not as odd as LoneStar's new attitude. He'd even offered to fly Kimberly up to Georgetown for her last procedure at the off the book hospital and was staying by her side.
When Dannigan asked what was up all he got was the same cold, calm voice with the answer,"when I know; you'll know."
Kimberly herself only said, "good question."
Rodrick watched as Lyssa put Warlock through the collection of obstacles in the backyard slowly. The recovery was coming along steady and Warlock had become very attached to Lyssa and Kimberly. He acted well toward Rodrick and only obeyed LoneStar's hand signal if it was basic since the helmet muffled his voice. Pete spoke no german at all so was ignored by the dog, as were Carl and Eddie.
Unlike most dogs that barked at the ringing phone or knocks at the door, Warlock gave one soft growl and waited for an order. Rodrick could tell Warlock had been operational too long as he had no interest in play as most working dogs did. Lyssa had taken to hiding a bit of explosive in the backyard twice daily to give him something to do but instead of playing ball or with a toy of some sort; Warlock wanted only praise and the occassional biscuit for success. He did seem to like splashing around in the surf walking along side Lyssa and Rodrick though.
Kimberly would take care of him out at the airfield while they were on honeymoon after the wedding in three more weeks. The only problem so far had been the good Reverend tried to introduce himself to Warlock and almost got a chunk taken out of his arm for it. They explained it off easily as he still had a bandage on that he was a rescued dog for a charity she supported in Germany. The caterer on the other hand had a phobia about dogs and asked that he be taken outside for the meeting which was ok because the florist showed up as well and they didn't want him to get anxious around them.
He didn't do so well around constant strangers. He did better with a small dedicated group of familiar people. That was Warlock's only sign of being a dog. Certainly he must think of himself the same as Lyssa and Rodrick. It was certainly common enough for working dogs to identify as soldiers as opposed to animals unless they were socialized with others like themselves.
The wedding was going to be on schedule as the tuxedos had arrived and John Galiano himself flew in to make sure the gown was properly fitted. The bridesmaids' dresses had been sent out and fitted locally then sent to Lyssa to hold until the wedding so that there'd be no mishaps.
Kimberly walked gingerly down the hallway for her exercise as LoneStar stood beside her in case she fell or tripped. Her recovery was going as expected the surgery went without complications. She'd be able to leave at the end of the week to return to the Bahamas but would mostly stay in her trailer lying down. Chairs weren't her friends right now and she was getting antsy without much to do. LoneStar felt the same way. He'd ended up filling some of his spare time doing preventive maintenance on Rodrick's helos before they had been called out. He now began taking advanced computer studies under Kimberly's tutelage.
Between her and Dannigan's efforts he virtually became non-existent to the military and intelligence community. She was rather proud of herself for that. LoneStar now belonged to himself and answered to whomever he chose. For the stay with her in the hospital she'd given him a list of computer programming manuals. Some for him to learn from and the others were very advanced for herself along with other training literature.
"I hope that psyche manual isn't going to be used on me," he mumbled under the helmet.
"Taking up a life of criminal activity," She asked walking back into the private room.
"Not anytime soon," he commented helping her back into the bed to lay down.
She winced then settled in, "you're safe then. Its for basically serial killers and those type whack-jobs."
He sat down in the chair across from her bed, "as opposed to the whack-jobs like me or is that nut-bar?"
Kimberly opened the book back to the section she had been reading, "those terrorists were whack-jobs. Pete's a nut-bar."
"And me," he asked.
"A pain in my ass when you want to be," she said snarkily.
She could feel his eyes bearing down on her from behind the visor so she looked up after a couple of minutes, "Joe keep in mind; you are not the only one that's damaged in some way. We ALL are. You're just the only one that's visible."
LoneStar leaned back in the chair, "right."
Kimberly listed, "Lyssa was tortured for a week by a narco-cartel. Rodrick got betrayed by his commanding officer gone rogue and shot in the back by one of his own teammates. Pete watched a whole squad plus flight crew he'd been sent in to rescue get slaughtered then got blamed for it. And then; there's me. You know my story already."
He mulled that over for a minute then asked, "and there's Paul."
She had went back to reading, "he's probably as fucked up as the rest of us. Found us and got us to work for him didn't he? Now that I think about it; Madison is probably the only straight laced one of us all. Then again, she's seeing Pete so there may be something off about her."
LoneStar couldn't help but chuckle at that gaining a 'I am not as sweet and charming as I look' smile from Kimberly and leaned in close after taking off his helmet.
"You can really be a vicious little smart-ass when you want," he commented.
"Its what it takes to get through to you Joe," she answered then kissed his scarred cheek as he hugged her gently, "we're all damaged I told you. That's why we do so well together. All of us."
"I'll try to stick around. No promises, just that I'll try Kim," he said softly.
"You're calling me Kim on a regular basis; that's a start," Kimberly answered.
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. |
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Book 30 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa has operated in every environment. Fought terrorists, high echelon criminals, Rogue agents and even serial killers . Is she ready to face....Marriage? WARNING: This Lyssa Kordenay Mission may be hyper-emotional for some readers. Arm yourself with tissues! |
CHAPTER 1
Dannigan finalized the tasking codes then hit execute. Madison stood behind him watching as the display counted down. two minutes later the screen came back up bearing the logo of the Office of Immediate Covert Action. The transfer was a success. The new array was online and operating within parameters. New array that was now housed in a reinforced bunker underground on the private island airfield in the Bahamas run by Rodrick Mason.
It was the latest super computer array built specifically for the agency designated: Onyssius. Onyssius- the ancient Greek God of Retribution. Or as the others now jokingly referred to it; Kimberly's new baby. It took only three days to set up the array and bring it online. Now they no longer needed to hack for time on the Pentagon or NSA's super arrays. They had their own, paid for with seized cartel funds. Pete supervised most of the installation until Kimberly was ready. Lyssa was back on Grand Cayman overseeing the last of the wedding details with Rodrick bouncing back and forth.
Normally this would be Pete's weekend to fly north to spend time with Madison but since it would be the wedding she and Dannigan would be flying down there. Dannigan wondered if Lyssa had any clue as to the surprise Rodrick had been working diligently on with 24 hour construction crews. It would be finished by the time they returned from their ten day honeymoon cruise.
Dannigan had to pat himself on the back for that. It'd been difficult to find a place to send them where they could relax and enjoy being newlyweds. It was either a cruise or a trip to Antarctica. Lyssa's sense of humor would only go so far so he chose a cruise for them, Mediterranean around Europe. He sent a message to Kimberly that all was working. She sent back a message confirming it.
"Ok Madison. That's it. Grab your luggage, its time to head south for the big To-Do," Dannigan said with a bit of satisfaction.
"WOOOOHOOOOO," she cheered then proceeded him out to collect their luggage and head for the airport.
Pete waited for them at the private terminal and within minutes they were in the air headed for Grand Cayman after a stop-off at Ram's Rock Island.
Lyssa laughed and clapped as Katya twirled down the aisle to the end then moved for Marissa to join them the same way. Lyssa spun on the ball of her right foot then pranced a circle around her two friends, leaped and circled around them both twirling to finish laughing as they were.
"Hello ladies, I'm thrilled to see you found a way to entertain yourselves waiting for me," Reverend Clarkson said walking up.
Katya smiled and said something in Russian then caught herself, "oops,sorry. I meant to say English, such a pretty church and so happy our Lyssa is marrying we could not help dance for her."
The Reverend chuckled," no apologies my dear. Its a joyous occasion, if I'd the talent you are gifted with, I too would dance in celebration. After all King David himself leaped and danced before the Lord with all his might, why should you not as well?"
The three women smiled then turned to the altar and curtsied gracefully then stepped back into their shoes. With Reverend Clarkson's help they quickly set out markers for the bridal and groom party positions. Katya insisted that Lyssa not walk the rehearsal as it would bring bad luck so Marissa was chosen to walk Lyssa's position for it. In the back of her mind Lyssa wondered exactly what Rodrick was up to.
She knew about the new computer array but Rodrick was being a bit smug and snarky, as if he had a surprise of some kind planned. The array was online she knew but when she talked to him on the phone it sounded like there was still some kind of construction going on. they had talked briefly about a range and kill-house since the British Operators had mentioned it while they were on station there to protect the prince while he vacationed.
That was probably it she thought. He was building a top of the line range and kill-house on the island.
Suddenly Katya started chattering in rapid fire Russian, "Lyssa! We must hurry or we'll be late for the hair and nails!"
Quickly they hurried out to the SUV to make their appointment.
LoneStar walked up to stand beside Rodrick.
"She figured out yet that you're doin' this," he asked muffled by his flight helmet.
Rodrick smiled broadly, "not a clue."
Beside them the black Belgian shepherd, Warlock, sat watching the work crew building.
"The mutt take a chunk outta any of them yet," LoneStar asked.
"Not yet but they definitely know that its not safe to wander around," Rodrick replied with a chuckle.
The day foreman had come to ask Rodrick a question and was greeted by the snarling tactical dog guarding the office. After that Rodrick gave a walkie-talkie to the day and night foremen.
Rodrick asked, "So right after the wedding you're gonna fly Paul, Madison and Kim back up to D.C.?"
"yeah, Kim's got an appointment then we'll come back the next day so Pete and Eddie won't have to handle all this themselves," LoneStar answered.
"I ever tell you 'thanks'," Rodrick asked.
LoneStar stood silently for a moment then asked, "for what?"
Rodrick shrugged," didn't have to take up with us. You did anyway. Thanks."
"I found a reason to stay. Paul said I had a very moving funeral a few days ago, even sent me pictures," LoneStar said noncommittally.
"Lyssa didn't know about hers until last year," Rodrick commented, "he keeps the flags in his office in case you wondered."
"Doesn't matter, see you later. The drones'll be ready tomorrow. You want in on the test flight," LoneStar asked.
"I'll be here in the morning but have to be back on Cayman for the afternoon. Rehearsal plus dinner, the work crew will be off tomorrow and the next day," Rodrick answered.
LoneStar nodded and turned back to the hangars. Rodrick conferred with the foreman then called for Warlock, headed for the runway and his Gulfstream to head back to Grand Cayman.
CHAPTER 2
Katya flopped onto Lyssa's bed, "Wake up! Its your day to be a princess!"
Lyssa chuckled to herself, having already been awake since dawn and walked along the beach with Warlock bounding through the surf.
"I've been awake, lay-about. You're the one who likes to sleep in,"Lyssa laughed.
"Marissa is making breakfast. Hurry before she poisons us both," Katya giggled.
Marissa Addams wasn't known for culinary skill so Lyssa did get up to go stop her. They walked in to find her dishing cut fruit into shortcake cups then topping with whipped cream and pouring mimosas for all three of them.
"HA! and you thought I couldn't make a meal," Marissa said sassily.
Lyssa took some of the cream onto her finger and licked it, "you can't. Andrea made the cream and I know the fruit came from the restaurant too."
Marissa swatted the laughing Katya,"YOU BLABBED!"
Katya squealed trying to get out of the way, "NYET!"
"Andrea adds a bit of rum to her whipped cream and I know about the fruit because I tell them to make it since I own the restaurant," Lyssa said without cracking a smile then turned to see Katya and Marissa 's shocked expressions.
Katya got over her shock at that statement fast to answer the phone, "Lyssa's phone; good morning. Yes. Right here."
Lyssa took the phone, it was the limo service confirming the time to pick them up to go to the church. Many jokes and teasing ensued as they lazily got ready. Finally with ten minutes left Lyssa gingerly put on the gown and stepped into the five inch heels.
Katya had helped her with the zipper and back lacing then stood back, "DA! Today the Ghost Legend becomes a princess for us all to envy and love."
"I still can't believe John went to this extravagance," Lyssa said looking back at the twenty foot long train.
"It's your wedding day Lyss. it SHOULD be a big deal,"Marissa commented.
Katya chimed in, "Da. You, who said to me, 'Katya I will never have marriage. I will not know love that lasts beyond a night.' It is this day that we all hoped and wished for, that you would find all things in life that have made all your hardest work worth while, Nyet?"
Lyssa looked to her two friends. She was their idol and knew it, yet here they were breaking her heart with their own happiness for her.
Katya saw this and quickly chided her,"nyet Lyssa! You must not cry and ruin the make-up! Let's go now, to the man that waits to spend the rest of your lives together."
Lyssa sputtered a laugh and hugged them both then walked out to the waiting car followed by Marissa and Katya carrying her train and were on their way.
Dannigan stood at the doors waiting nervously. the last time he'd been nervous over Lyssa was her first recital but she'd danced like she'd been doing so all her life to their great joy. Never having children of his own, Lyssa was as close as it would ever be and this was the most important day ever to be. LoneStar waited just inside the doors of the chapel itself to signal the arrival.
He couldn't believe that as well. As damaged and screwed up as Joe was, Kimberly of all people had broken through and brought him back to living. Though he hadn't seen beneath the helmet in over ten years He believed that they looked good together.
Madison and Pete were another surprise. Dannigan chuckled to himself now that he thought about it. Who'd have ever thought he'd be a match-maker. the sound of a car door caught him out of that. A moment later the doors open and Lyssa walked in flanked by Katya and Marissa and his heart practically stopped.
"What? what is it? tell me something's not wrong," Lyssa demanded in a hushed tone at the sight of his expression.
"You're the most beautiful woman on earth Lyssa," he finally said.
She froze and blinked at that.
"If I never told you before I will now; I'm so VERY proud of you," Dannigan said in a strong clear voice.
Again Lyssa felt her heart breaking with happiness. Nervously she fidgeted with the skirt of the gown as Katya and Marissa adjusted the train behind her.
Marissa announced, "Ready."
"Got the ring," Dannigan asked Katya in flawless Russian.
His presence had been explained as Lyssa's first sponsor. Sponsors were common, sometimes it was a more polite way of saying Sugar-Daddy, but most of the time is really was business. Corporate appearances and things like that were the trade for sponsorship.
"Da," the Russian Prima answered and held up her left wrist to show the ring on a thread that would easily break when pulled.
"Ok. Then we're ready. Lyssa," He said making her look up.
"You're stunning and everybody's waiting," He said smiling proudly.
Lyssa took a deep breath then nodded, "ok."
Beyond the doors the musical cue began then both doors opened and the bride's-maids began their walk down the aisle.
Rodrick asked Pete under his breath for the tenth time, "got the ring?"
"Its in my hand now will you get a grip," Pete chuckled then whispered, "Here they come now. Whoa!"
They watched as the doors opened and Madison began her walk down the aisle followed by Marissa then Katya and finally Meghan gently dropping rose petals revealing Lyssa and Dannigan standing in the doorway. Rodrick caught his breath seeing Lyssa at the distance then he almost forgot to start breathing again as she began her walk with Dannigan beside her passing through two columns of Navy SEALS in dress uniform.
As they approached Rodrick couldn't believe she could have been more beautiful than the day she walked Dior show but she was. Several 'oohs and aahs' were heard as she passed. When finally they reached him and Dannigan lifted the veil to kiss her cheek and shake Rodrick's hand he could tell she was holding back tears. Rodrick held her hand as they both stepped forward to stand before the Reverend.
With a smile Reverend Clarkson began, "We are gathered here today for the joining of Lyssa Patrice Kordenay and Rodrick Nathaniel Mason in wedlock. A union of love and happiness to last throughout their lives. Should there be any objection make it heard now."
After a very long pause Reverend Clarkson continued, "Do you; Lyssa Patrice Kordenay, take this man; Rodrick Nathaniel Mason, to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold? In sickness and health? Love, honor and cherish, for as long as you both shall live; til death do you part?"
Lyssa looked up and said with determination, "Yes, I do."
He turned to Rodrick," Do you; Rodrick Nathaniel Mason, do you take this woman; Lyssa Patrice Kordenay, to be your wedded wife? To have and to hold? In sickness and health? Love, honor and cherish, for as long as you both shall live; til death do you part?"
Rodrick looked deep into her dove grey eyes and said firmly, "Without a doubt, I do."
"May we have the rings," the Reverend asked.
Pete handed Rodrick Lyssa's ring.
"Repeat after me," Clarkson instructed, "Take this ring; as a symbol of my love and fidelity. Forsaking all others. Enduring troubling times. Rejoicing in times of ease and supporting one another for all of time."
Rodrick repeated then slid the wedding band onto her finger fitting against the engagement ring. Katya passed Rodrick's ring to Lyssa.
The Reverend instructed her, "repeat after me; take this ring as a symbol of my love and fidelity. Forsaking all others. Enduring troubling times. Rejoicing in times of ease and supporting one another for all of time."
Lyssa repeated with a couple of hesitations to keep her composure then slid the ring onto Rodrick's finger.
"You've come to each other, and before these dear people, out of love and bonded yourselves to each other here in the presence of these witnesses in holy matrimony," Reverend Clarkson said smiling, "I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss the bride."
As they kissed he announced, "Family and friends, I present you Mr. and Mrs. Mason. My congratulations to you both and I wish you all the best in your future together."
Everyone stood and applauded as the music began again and Rodrick walked Lyssa back up the aisle followed by the bride's-maids and groom's-men under a canopy of swords.
At the end, the Commander of SEAL team Four said, "Congratulations Mason."
"Thank you Sir," he replied.
The SEAL Admiral quickly swatted Lyssa on the behind with the flat of his saber and called out, "GO NAVY!"
The two columns of SEALs yelled out, "HOOOOYAAAAAH!"
Rodrick and Lyssa stood at the top of the steps outside for a few photos then rode to the reception in the limo followed by the guests.
CHAPTER 3
Everyone had filed in already and were waiting as Rodrick and Lyssa were announced, "Presenting the newlyweds; Mr. Rodrick Mason and Mrs. Lyssa Kordenay-Mason."
Pictures were taken then the cutting of the cake and champagne toasts. Finally they were called to the dance area and began dancing until Rodrick's father came up and asked to cut in. None had been more surprised than Rodrick that his parents came. They hadn't spoken since his resignation from the Navy. Lyssa hadn't been surprised when her Mother-in-law to be had confessed that she had no idea why her own son was on the cover of a tabloid months ago and after finding out, found it hard to believe he would have even pursued a relationship with a woman of Lyssa's reputation. The woman was over-joyed at their match.
Lyssa danced with her father-in-law as Rodrick danced with his mother then Pete cut in to dance with Lyssa and Rodrick danced with Katya before returning to each other. After several minutes people began approaching to congratulate them. Of course the British Prince wasn't denied a few moments of a dance with the bride. Celebrities, royalty, military and countless friends shook Rodrick's hand and kissed Lyssa's.Kimberly covertly began having the gifts loaded into the waiting SUVs of Lyssa, Pete and LoneStar to be transferred to the house.
Finally the time was called for all ladies'-in-waiting to come to the dance floor and Lyssa was helped up to stand on a chair facing away from them. Twice she teased them all before throwing a bouquet over her head to the crowd behind her. The women cried out in excitement jockeying for the best spot to try catching it as it fell; to be caught by Prince Harry's girlfriend of all people. Everyone began chuckling and pointing to the Prince who had the good grace to blush.
Lyssa sat down laughing as Rodrick knelt and slowly slid her garter down her leg and took it off. Several whistles and cat-calls came from the crowd and the bachelors were then herded to occupy the dance floor where the women had stood. Rodrick jokingly began aiming at certain men in turn then turned around and tossed the circle of lace and ribbon behind him.
The reaction was comically different. Instead of vying to catch it as the women had the men were trying to avoid it pushing each other into its landing area laughing. It bounced off the head of the Prince and landed in the hands of none other than Rodrick's old friend Banker to the delight of all the SEALS who immediately began hassling him about it when Marissa Addams blew him a kiss from across the room.
Finally the reception began to close and the guests took their leave. At the end it was only Rodrick,Lyssa,Dannigan, Madison, Pete, Kimberly and LoneStar. Pete walked up and hugged Lyssa and Rodrick followed by Madison then Kimberly and LoneStar.
Kimberly said, "we'll unload the gifts then head back to the airfield and come back day after tomorrow to take care of things."
Lyssa hugged her, "Thanks Kim."
The limo dropped Lyssa and Rodrick off, the gifts were unloaded and stacked in the dining room on the table then they were alone. Rodrick carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Slowly they undressed each other as the sun set filling the room with gold light.
"I love you Mr. Mason," Lyssa whispered.
"I love you Mrs. Mason, and I'm gonna show you how much," Rodrick answered and began kissing her.
Kimberly and LoneStar waved as Dannigan drove away taking Rodrick and Lyssa to the airport to go on their honeymoon. Dannigan had made all the arrangements. They all knew about the cruise for ten days. Pete would oversee the finishing of the construction on the island while Kimberly and LoneStar would oversee the packing of the Grand Cayman house, especially all the weapons. Also they would disarm and remove the booby-traps. Lyssa and Rodrick had unwrapped the gifts and wrote thank you cards which she would send out before heading back to the island.
Already they'd snuck the change of address form past Lyssa to be signed along with several other papers. All the belongings would be loaded into conex boxes to be loaded and transported with the C-130. The house would be refurnished to be used as a safe-house but not sold. Also some things from the house in Virginia would be relocated as well. Construction would be finished in three more days then Kimberly and LoneStar would have to hurry to finish getting everything settled.
Dannigan hugged Lyssa then clasped Rodrick's hand at the jet-way. The yacht's first mate would be waiting for them in Spain. For ten days they'd leisurely sail around the European side of the Mediterranean so they could both focus on being newlyweds for a change and not when the next roll-out call would come through. Madison had enjoyed her time on Rodrick's island with Pete.
One day she'd probably ask to transfer down there permanently. He'd give the relationship time to see if it panned out the way they all hoped it did. He'd have to get a new secretary if that happened. He couldn't relocate from Washington. Kimberly was going to need a new ongoing task. Searching for a replacement for Lyssa may take years unless they got incredibly lucky. She'd have to start watching the psyche evals coming out of Special Forces.
Like everybody else, including himself, Lyssa would want to retire one day. Dannigan had a sneaking suspicion now that the day wouldn't be as far off as she originally thought. The funny thing was though, the idea of her retiring from fieldwork didn't seem bad.
CHAPTER 4
The cruise had been romantic starting in Spain and sweeping around all the European countries along the Mediterranean coast then back stopping in Dover and heading to London for a visit to Buckingham Palace to be granted an audience with the Queen for congratulations after being formally announced as Lord and Lady Mason.
It was a private audience therefore allowing their titles to be used. Titles confirmed by the Queen herself, but not recognized outside the royal court. The remainder of the royal family introduced though they all remembered Lyssa from her performances at
Royal Albert Hall.
Rodrick had enjoyed seeing themselves both in such a casual light and wondered if that was what it would be like in retirement. Jet-set and globe-trotting would have to come to an end one day he thought to himself. That was when he really started paying attention to other people not from a tactical stand-point. Especially those with children with them.
What would it really be like to be a parent? A son that was competitive like him or a daughter artistic like Lyssa? Perhaps the other way around. Female sports were even more competitive than male due to the lack of major contribution and following. Perhaps a son would be musically inclined or a dancer? He understood that dancing was very physically demanding and required the same discipline as most martial arts. Maybe their child would be more attracted to aesthetic arts such as painting, sculpting or photography?
There were also sciences. Perhaps very academic, computers like Kimberly or mechanical like Eddie. Kimberly also was very deductive, her mind could make leaps in reasoning tracking things electronically that would cross-over into real world. What if their child were more scholarly, pursuing the world of teaching or medicine as a doctor or researcher?
That really spun his mind into overdrive, not that he was a proverbial knuckle-dragger and neither was Lyssa. They both were highly intelligence and creative thinkers, which was required in the world of special operations, but what if their child turned out to be on a higher level than either of them? How would they keep up in order to assist as a parent should. after two days of seeing him being so introspective Lyssa finally had enough.
Sitting at the table she asked,"ok. You're working on something giving you fits. What is it?"
Rodrick snapped out it, "Kids."
Lyssa thought for a moment then replied, "heard about those. Fairly dangerous, require special gear don't they? Tasers, tear gas, high velocity rounds, nets, etc.?"
"Would ours be? What if they're like you and very artistic or me and athletic? Or a combination of the two of us? Or really smart like Kimberly? Not that we're dumb or anything like that, but she's really bright and her mind moves at warp speed. What about like Eddie; a mechanical type? What if they're not interested in the military like we are and want to be a doctor or researcher? Or a biologist and work in a zoo or something like that?"
Lyssa sat stunned for a moment, "wow! I didn't even know I could get pregnant."
Rodrick looked stumped, "oh. Right. Forgot about that. Adoption. Damn I didn't think about that. Should we try to get a boy or girl? Or both? Can we get siblings? what about twins? They're not always identical are they?"
"Whoa! Wait-a-minute. Slow down for christ's sake. Good god baby, where is all this coming from," Lyssa sputtered.
Rodrick looked around and nodded to passers-by most of which had children in tow.
At her look of puzzlement he said, "well...we're married now. We'll be wanting to start a family. Married people do that;have families. You know; kids."
Lyssa looked thoughtful for a moment then said, "you're right, but we shouldn't just jump in blindly. A call to the major for tasking on this, and then Kimberly for an overview and analysis. Madison will have to get the paperwork ready. Maybe LoneStar to do some recon flights. Yeah this is serious. In fact we maybe over our heads. Should we ask for Delta or DEVGRU back-up? No wait we're in Britain; call the SAS or SBS."
Rodrick gave Lyssa a look as if she blowing him off then as she slowly smiled he began to laugh then so did she. An elderly woman sitting at an adjoining table also laughed. Apparently she'd overheard enough of the conversation.
"Young man, I take it you're newlyweds," She asked.
"Yes Ma'am we are," Rodrick answered proudly.
"I was a newlywed once myself young man," she commented, "care for a bit of advice?"
"We'd love some Ma'am," Lyssa replied with a smile.
The woman took a sip of her tea then said, "no need to rush things. Enjoy marriage for a while. Children will come when they are supposed to and not one moment sooner or later. I have four of my own and twelve grandchildren, not a single one had ever been planned. Though a couple of my sons tried planning, I had to remind them. Many people plan, including Lord Cornwallis and even Napoleon had plans, but we all know what happened to them don't we?"
The elderly woman looked very much pleased with her own insight.
Rodrick looked bemused by her statement then turned to Lyssa, "Ohhhhhhh. You mean all THOSE fuckin' indians."
The woman looked shocked for a moment.
Lyssa explained, "allegedly General George Armstrong Custer's last words at the battle of Little Bighorn creek. 200 cavalry-men against 10,000 members of 3 Native America nations."
The woman thought about that then finally chuckled getting the joke.
"Interestingly put but applicable in any case. Murphy's Law I believe you Americans say," she commented.
Rodrick and Lyssa laughed together assuring her they understood exactly what she meant and how correct she was.
"I wouldn't lose sleep young man. That fact that you're concerned about it now does show that you will be a very attentive parent when children do come along. Right now I'd concern myself with the lovely wife. I must say my dear, you look familiar but for the life of me I can't remember from where," the woman admitted.
"My name's Lyssa. I'm a dancer," Lyssa introduced herself.
"Ah now, don't you be teasing the poor woman. She is no ordinary dancer M'am, Mrs. Mason is a Prima that's danced Royal Albert more than once," Major Jeremy Wells said stepping up, "sorry couldn't make the wedding. Congratulations to you both."
"Thank you," they both said.
MiLady...Lord Mason," the British officer said softly as he kissed Lyssa's hand and shook Rodrick's.
"Major, you know how shy I am. You make me blush,"Lyssa said coyly.
"In town on business Major," rodrick asked.
"Most important errand, I came to see you both," Wells replied.
"oh," Lyssa asked.
"Certainly M'am. I have gifts from us and the lads for you both," he said proudly passing over a small box to each.
They opened them to see matching rings with a coat of arms on them. A blue eagle on a green shield above a black chevron over a black crown.
"Authorized by the College of Arms; the standard of your family Lord Mason. Lady Mason," Major Wells said very pleased with himself.
They both sat stunned looking at the rings.
"A proper shield is being sent to your home as we speak," Wells added.
Lyssa tried hers on and asked, "ok. How'd you get my size Major?"
"I'm a highly trained combat specialist of the Crown M'Lady. I called and asked Kimberly," he replied smugly.
All three laughed at that.
"I didn't come to intrude on your honeymoon, just to give that and congratulations from m'self, Bill, and all the lads. The colonel sends his as well but was occupied," Wells said then stood up to leave.
"Thank you Jeremy. It was very thoughtful of you all," Lyssa stood up and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Ah now there's an honor my Mrs. won't mind me braggin' about," Wells said with a chuckle.
Rodrick laughed easily then shook hands with the British officer again.
"We can't visit London without a quick turn through Piccadilly before heading home," Lyssa said.
Rodrick agreed and took her by the hand as they walked down the sidewalk.
LoneStar looked and all seemed to be in place, "I guess that's it Kim."
"Yeah. They can always rearrange things their way anytime," Kimberly said, " she's gonna fall completely out at this."
LoneStar chuckled, "I don't doubt it. Rod really pulled out the stops on this."
It was a rare thing for him to be without his helmet for a long time but they both were enjoying it.
"Their flight lands in four hours. Right," Kimberly asked.
LoneStar answered, "yeah, I'll fly over and pick 'em up. oh damn, what about this shield the Brits sent?"
Kimberly looked around then pointed, "why not there? I'll get the hook and some wire for it."
a couple of minutes later he stepped back, "there. Not even lopsided THIS time."
"Whaaaaaat? I just want it to be perfect when they get home," Kimberly pouted.
"It is and they be thrilled," LoneStar reassured her, "now go throw on somethin' instead of that bikini so we can head into Nassau to get the mail, groceries and newlyweds."
Kimberly laughed at that passing him the helmet and proceeded him out the door.
The flight to Nassau went quickly and LoneStar had the plane refueled while Kimberly went to the grocery store and post office. She returned just as a airport shuttle dropped Lyssa and Rodrick off.
Lyssa saw her get out of the SUV, "Kimberly? what are doing in my car and why are they both here?"
Kimberly froze with an 'oh shit I'm busted' look on her face and stammered, "um. Well I, uh. You see, its like this. Um, Rodrick will tell you all about it."
Lyssa turned around and pinned him with her steel colored eyes. Rodrick gave the same look Kimberly had then glanced between the two.
Finally he stammered out, "well. I kinda have a surprise for you."
"Oh? Really," Lyssa purred.
Rodrick leaned in close to Kimberly after Lyssa climbed into the plane, "If she hates it you die first because I can outrun you both."
Kimberly leaned back, "she's only going to shoot me. Warlock gets your number."
Rodrick looked at LoneStar.
The black clad pilot abruptly said, "hey I ain't got a pony in this race. She's YOUR wife."
"BFH! Big Fucking Help the both of you are,"Rodrick grumbled.
They set about stowing the last of the luggage and groceries in the cargo compartment then walking up the steps into the plane after LoneStar. The flight back was fast but as they approached Kimberly put a blindfold on Lyssa.
"Rodrick Nathaniel Mason! So help me if there is even ONE picture of me naked on any of the hangars you die. Slowly," Lyssa called out.
"You could be royally fucked," LoneStar commented.
"Confirmed; FUCKED inbound," Pete called out from the tower.
"Disregard tower," Rodrick replied, "wise ass."
Rodrick set the plane down smooth and taxied to the hangar. within minutes they loaded the luggage and some of the groceries into a cart and drove it away from the hangar area with Lyssa still sitting calmly but blindfolded. Finally the cart stopped and Lyssa was guided out.
"Ok. Now the surprise," Rodrick said then pulled the blindfold, "welcome to your mansion my Lady."
Lyssa stared in awe. Nestled against the hillside was a multilevel white building fronted by a wide veranda with columns, along the side of the house was a large pool. Several balconies topped various rooms it seemed and above the door was a large window etched with their personal insignia of a butterfly on an anchor.
Sensing he was safe for the moment, Rodrick led Lyssa inside. On the wall above the mantle was a painted portrait from a picture taken with him in a black tux and her in a deep green ballgown below the portrait was a small plaque.
Underneath that was their date of marriage. Lyssa looked around taking it all in then threw herself into Rodrick's arms.
She laughed ,"ok. I love it! You can live."
From beside the couch Warlock wagged his tail and barked twice making them all laugh.
"Welcome home LORD and LADY Mason," Kimberly called out following LoneStar, Pete, Carl and Eddie out with Warlock tagging along after her as Rodrick carried Lyssa up the stairs.
Book 31 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa is happily married now. Favors have always been her currency, and now even the President wants a favor? |
CHAPTER 1
The President picked up and answered,"Afternoon your Highness, what can I do for you?"
"good afternoon Mr.President, thank you for taking my call. I have a matter that I would very much like some assistance with," The Prince of Bhomeini stated.
"If I can be of help I certainly will, of course," the President answered.
"The summer Olympic games are being hosted in your country this year. Your city of Portland," the Prince led.
The President remarked, "Ah yes, we are definitely looking forward to that. Its a lovely city by-the-way you should visit it should you get the chance."
"I'd very much like to but alas, my duties will prevent me. My problem is one of the unconfirmed competitors. You see; I have a cousin. This cousin has a daughter, though raised her whole life in America; she's still a citizen of Bhomeini. Raised western, she decided to not follow the Muslim ways and became a gymnast. The family supports this and has encouraged the child. Now the child has grown of course and shows much potential. She has requested to represent Bhomeini in the upcoming games. Her request has been granted, from what I've seen and been told she stands the same chances as any of the other competitors."
"that's wonderful news your Highness. My best wishes to the young lady of course, I'm sure she'll give her best efforts in the games," the President replied," However I don't see how I can be of assistance."
The Prince chuckled, "my apologies for such a circuitous route. The problem is not all will be so, enthusiastic. In fact; some may be rather hostile about it. I called to ask about some sort of protection for her that would seem less obvious. Surely you'd understand how it would look for a group of men, competent and professional as they may be; but still men, would look to be watching over her."
The President was vaguely familiar with the ideals of the middle east pondered ,"yes very true. I see your point. Though not sure exactly how to go about solving this dilemma right off hand."
The Prince was quick on the take, "actually I read not long ago about that unfortunate business of an assassination attempt on you. You're life was saved by a woman was it not? Lyssa Kordenay? I also read that she recently married."
The President thought about it, "well yes that's all true, but you have to understand that it was a fluke. By chance that she saved me. At injury to herself no less."
The President scribbled Lyssa's name on a sheet of paper along with the sentence' get all information now,' and passed it to his aide. the woman nodded and hustled out.
"I would greatly appreciate the favor if you would look into the possibility of her acting as a chaperon for my cousin during the games in your country," the Prince emphasized.
"I'll see what I can do in those regards, Highness. Please do keep in mind though, Lyssa Kordenay-Mason is a private citizen. I can only ask for her help but I can't make it mandatory. On your behalf; I will ask," The President signed off.
Hours later he sat in his study looking over a speech he'd be giving in week at Yale when his aide came in.
"Sir, here's all the information I could find on her. I looked at the Secret Service file on her then I did a lot of asking around. Those guys couldn't find a hooker in whorehouse if they had a no-limit credit card it seems," she said flatly.
His eyebrows shot up at that statement, "WHAT?"
"I spoke to our embassy in Moscow. What came out of there was startling to say the least. The Ambassador's daughter attends Bolshoi. Lyssa is referred to as the Ghost Legend. In fact she told me in no uncertain terms that Lyssa is both feared and respected in Moscow. I quote 'any favor asked by The Ghost Legend is to be granted. no matter what it is.' Anything, anytime, anywhere," the aide stated.
The President set everything aside now, "are you serious? That sounds unbelievable. I always thought ballet was like modeling. A cut-throat business. Yet you're saying that Lyssa can literally have whatever she wants from any dancer, whenever she wants it?"
The Aide nodded, "Sir; the premier Primas Katya and Marissa BOTH were her understudies for some time. A former Prima tried to gain a principal position by drugging Lyssa and Katya so they could be raped by the producer, but Lyssa prevented it causing quite the scandal. The Prima and that producer were ruined. Katya was ushered into the spotlight while Lyssa kept to the background in the matter. Also not long ago there was an incident in London. She and two other dancers were kidnapped by a serial killer. The details are intentionally very fuzzy but the general gist is that she somehow got loose and turned the tables on him."
"Turned the tables in what way,"the President asked pointedly.
She continued, "He was burned, alive. Speculation is she may have had some time to do other things but MI-6 swept things under the rug, despite Scotland Yard's protests. One of the other dancers was a foreign national; French with some political connections. The High Echelon wanted the whole thing to go away. Fast."
"She looked like I do when I have papers to sign. The kind I don't like but have to anyway," the President mused aloud.
"Sir," she asked.
"Nothing. Where is she now," he asked.
"She officially lives in Virginia but sources say that she was really living on Grand Cayman but has moved to a private Bahamian island owned by her husband, ex-SEAL now private charter pilot with a shady reputation, Rodrick Mason when they married six months ago. He does have a satellite phone. The number is at the bottom," the aide answered passing the sheet of paper over.
He picked up the phone, "yes. Put in a call to Lyssa Kordenay-Mason," he gave the number then hung up.
Lyssa looked over as Rodrick answered his satphone, "yeah? Just a moment," he passed it to her.
Lyssa took the phone, "Hello?"
a voice on the other end stated, "one moment please for the President of the United States."
Almost a minute later he came on, "Mrs.Mason...."
"Please Sir; just Lyssa," she said warmly.
"Well you did wind up with two bullets meant for me, a bit of respect is called for," he chuckled.
Lyssa laughed easily, "things happen Sir. This call couldn't be a matter of conscience, is there something on your mind?"
"Actually there is; a very diplomatic situation has come up and I'd very much like to speak with you about it can you come to Washington tomorrow," he asked.
"Baby, the President wants to know if I can be in D.C. tomorrow," Lyssa asked Rodrick.
Rodrick thought about it, "yeah. About two p.m. is the earliest, we're out of flight time until five a.m. and I'm wiped out personally."
"Three p.m. Sir," Lyssa responded.
"Thank you Mrs. Mason, ah, I mean; Lyssa. Oh and by the way; congratulations to the both of you on the wedding," the President replied.
"Thank you Sir. The First Lady sent a nice card," Lyssa said then disconnected.
Several minutes later Kimberly came over the walkie talkie, "Lyssa. Lyssa come in."
Lyssa grabbed the radio, "what is it Kim?"
"Better get over here," Kimberly replied.
"ok," Lyssa answered.
Minutes later she and Rodrick walked into the office.
"What's up," Lyssa asked.
Kimberly frowned, "Somebody's digging into your past. I pinged the computer and got the White House. Presidential Aide and she is digging anything and everything she can find using Presidential clearance. what's going on?"
"She gonna find anything compromising," Rodrick asked.
"No way. I'm back-stopped like nobody has ever been. I planted the documents personally and hacked the social security from the mainframe itself. Just like for you Kimberly. Our identities are so solid there is only one way to crack them. Physically go talk to people where we're supposed to be from. and just for your information Kimberly, the private schools you and I graduated from shut down seven years ago. None of the teachers are able to make a comment and there were no yearbooks or anything like that," Lyssa stated.
"Yeah yeah. You danced your way to Julliard and I waited tables through ITT, that campus is shut down now and the dance schools you went to before Julliard were private and have since shut down," Kimberly reminded.
"So like Pete and I are the only ones with a real verifiable past and Star doesn't exist at all right," Rodrick asked.
"Essentially...yes,"Kimberly remarked.
"kinda puts it in perspective huh baby," Lyssa smiled.
Rodrick nodded, "yeah, now that you mention it."
Kimberly piped up, "ok. She hit the wall now. in a couple of minutes she'll either shut down or make a reqquest of the local FBI offices to pursue inquiry. ok. Not a couple minutes. She's shutting down. that's it."
"ok Kim.we're heading back to the house. President has asked to see me tomorrow,"Lyssa said.
"ok," Kimberly answered.
CHAPTER 2
"The President will see you now Mrs. Mason," The agent standing at the door stepped aside after opening the door for her.
Lyssa walked into the Oval Office wearing the Dior signature strapless dress of butterfly print and white heels.
"Good afternoon Mrs.Mason, I mean Lyssa. Thank you for coming," The President rounded his desk and gently shook her hand.
"Well now unless the reason is seriously great, such invitation shouldn't be passed. Is there something I can help with Mr.President," Lyssa asked easily.
He directed them both to the two couches and sat opposite her, "Lyssa I'll cut right to the chase. The summer Olympics are in Portland this time and the Prince of Bhomeini has asked a favor and in fact named you personally. His cousin is competing in the women's gymnastics, a formal announcement is pending but she is definitely competing."
Lyssa remarked, "that definitely sounds like a delicate situation."
He nodded, "the Prince has asked that you act as a chaperon for the young lady and I can see his reasoning. You're held in high esteem for your works as a Prima with discipline unmatched and also that you made international news saving my life. Rumors abound that you have; uh, hidden talents, when it comes to looking after yourself. I ask, as a favor; that you use your fame, notoriety and any OTHER skills you may have acquired, to look after the Prince's cousin while she competes here in the states."
"That's a tall order for a ballerina Mr. President," Lyssa commented.
"Surely you could understand if we placed more, obvious, guardians around her? How that would be misinterpreted," he pointed out.
Lyssa looked thoughtful for a minute, "I believe so, yes. An Arabic girl competing in the Olympics though and gymnastics on top of that. I'm fairly certain there will be a considerable amount of...uproar?"
"Precisely. We're all expecting that. You won't be alone, we took in consideration that because of your husband you may not object to being accompanied by a SEAL," The President picked up a single page and handed it over to her.
Lyssa looked it over. This was nowhere near a dossier but she read anyway.
"Actually; he's quite the expert on the middle east, though young. Fluent in sixteen arabic dialects, knows the koran cover to cover and all the major players of islam on sight if needed. Hand-to-hand, small arms, communications, PARAMEDIC training. Academics are equally impressive; three years college for sports, sports medicine and middle eastern studies. Degrees in all of course, running back in high school. He's a real go-getter," the President sounded pleased.
Lyssa was quiet for a moment then said, "all that does sound impressive, but SEALs are alpha males Sir. He may not be exactly thrilled to be pulling a duty he may think mundane as personal protection. Especially a young gymnast. He may even think it beneath him. SEALs have egos Mr. President, I'm married to one."
The President smiled, "actually he volunteered when he heard about it. His mother was a gymnast so he doesn't disrespect the sport. Even said, and I quote, 'This could advance participation internationally' end quote."
Lyssa nodded, "Well that puts it into an agreeable perspective though I do see one small catch."
"What would that be," he asked.
"Well if a situation arises; I'm not a cop or anything like that. I could be arrested in the course of protecting her ,and for that matter, myself along with her," Lyssa stated.
"As sharp as I believed you to be, Lyssa. We thought of that as well. You'll be given temporary credentials of the DSS. In short Diplomatic Security Service; a division within the State Department in charge of security for visiting diplomats and other dignitaries as well as guards for our diplomats overseas," the President smiled.
Lyssa smiled back, "Well then. as a FAVOR. To YOU. And his Highness; THE PRINCE. I'll do it."
The President smiled and stood, "excellent! I knew you could be counted on for this. My secretary has ALL the necessary briefing materials for you and other things you'll need. Thank you Lyssa, and I must say; that dress is spectacular on you."
Lyssa shook his hand again," thank you Sir. It was made for me as a gift from Dior. May the rest of your day go as well as this small meeting."
He smiled as she walked to the door the door. Lyssa stopped in the doorway and looked back.
"A Presidential and a Royal favor," Lyssa smiled at him, "I LIKE this."
The President looked on as the door closed behind her. He suddenly felt unsettled at her last smile. Like he just agreed to something best used in fairy tales to warn of danger about making deals. then the words came back to him. She was both feared AND respected in Moscow. Did that apply other places as well?
Jerry Babineaux couldn't believe it. He would be working with one seriously hot woman. Lyssa Kordenay, ballerina extraordinaire and euro-super model. The guys back at SEAL team seven got a chuckle out of it. Him being paired up with a ballerina to protect some cousin of the Prince of Bhomeini but he'd heard of her and showed several pictures. that changed all their minds. She was gorgeous and intense.
He watched from inside the private terminal as she walked off a plane handed her bags by some guy completely covered in flight gear as if he was flying a fighter or gunship instead of a charter jet. A black dog similar to German shepherd walked by her right side obediently without a leash.
"Chicks and their pets," he said to himself shaking his head.
As she approached he gave a low wolf whistle. He was surprised when the dog began growling at him, growling that intensified as Jerry walked closer.
"Darlin' you might wanna tell rover there to chill," he drawled.
Lyssa didn't even lower the designer pink lens sunglasses, "He doesn't like you, why should I?"
"Jerry Babineaux. My buddies call me J-Bo. We gonna get to know each other real good darlin'," he drawled.
"I'm not your...darlin'.....I'm Lyssa. We're working together to protect Yasmina. that's why we're here," She said icily then muttered something in German.
The dog stopped growling but didn't look away from the SEAL. J-Bo shook his head in amusement.
A woman in a suit walked up and showed official credentials, "Ma'am. I'm with the FBI, Special Agent Tabitha Garand. The vehicle you requested is parked out front; a black Tahoe with an agent standing by until you and Ms. Faheen depart. We'll collect her
luggage per your instructions and deliver them to the site."
"Thank you Special Agent Garand. He's driving. You can drive can't you," Lyssa asked pointedly.
Jerry chuckled, "I can drive."
They both followed the agent out and he said softly, "my, you definitely are pretty when your dander gets up."
Lyssa didn't respond to him but did mutter quietly and Warlock circled around to walk between them. At the SUV Warlock circled it once then returned to stand beside Lyssa.
"Load up. I'll go get our young charge," She said then went back in with the Belgian shepherd at her side.
"My my, she's definitely pretty when her dander gets up," Jerry chuckled to himself then climbed behind the wheel.
Yazmina walked down the jet-way and saw a woman wearing black leggings, white blouse with a wide black belt and tall boots with a dog beside her wearing a vest emblazoned with the notice, Service Dog do not touch.
"Hello Yazmina, I'm Lyssa. You know why I'm here," Lyssa asked in flawless Arabic.
"Oh yeah, WAY COOL! And I speak English just fine," Yazmina giggled.
Lyssa smiled warmly, "well this is Warlock. He's a trained K-9 so its best not to pet him. We'll move rather quickly through the terminal, your bags are being collected by an agent for the FBI and will be brought to us in a little while but getting you to the vehicle is our concern. Its no secret about you, so naturally the press is here and its going to be a zoo of course. Warlock will lead and you follow me. Hang onto my belt before we hit the Pit so we don't get separated, ok?"
"ok," she sounded slightly excited.
On command Warlock began retracing his way back to the SUV when a flood of journalists surged to surround them demanding a comment in various languages.
"Make way. Make way please," Lyssa called out.
When the reporters ignored her and began to crowd she called out loudly in German, "SCHUTZEN!"
Warlock leaped forward gnashing his teeth and snapping malevolently while barking loudly. The pushing crowd fell back immediately to get out of the dog's bite range and Lyssa swept forward with the young gymnast in tow. One got too close and Lyssa slickly slammed her boot heel down on his foot making the man yelp, drawing Warlock's attention who quickly began snapping at him to chase him back.
"AUBEN," she commanded in German and the shepherd began clearing the way out.
Out on the walkway Warlock stood by the SUV door as Lyssa ushered the girl inside then commanded him to get in and slammed the door
"Go sailor," Lyssa ordered
"Aye aye babycakes,"Jerry sang out and powered away.
At the first light they stopped for Lyssa popped him hard on the back of his head.
"HEY! What was that for," he remarked chuckling.
"I'm jogging your memory. Or should I aim lower and apply considerable more force," Lyssa asked absently.
"AWW! I don't mind your little love taps none," he remarked wiggling his eyebrows in the mirror at her.
"WOW! That was so cool Lyssa. Is your dog gonna go everywhere with us,"Yazmina gushed.
"Warlock will be around from time to time. He's not a people person so I have to keep an eye on him but I needed him to control that crowd like he did to get their attention. Word will spread that I use a trained dog and they'll keep back just in case I have him hidden close by," Lyssa explained.
"That's SO cool," Yazmina giggled.
"Yazzie; I'm not going to try ruining your fun but I am your chaperon. I'm a reasonable person but if I ask something, please do it," Lyssa instructed.
The gymnast answered soberly, "I understand Lyssa. a favor. for a favor. a girl named Ekaterina told me about you last month. She guest taught my ballet class."
"So you know young Katerina then,"Lyssa asked pointedly.
"Lyssa; the Ghost Legend. PRIMA LYSSA; who will never let you fail, even if she must challenge heaven and earth," Yazmina almost recited like a mantra.
"Very good," Lyssa said," and so you will not. I will allow nothing less than your utmost best. At ALL times."
"Yes Prima Lyssa," the girl answered, suddenly remembering the intensity of the young Russian's dedication to discipline.
Minutes later they went through the checkpoint and stopped at the dormitories. Accomodations were alphabetical. Three interconnecting suites were held for Bhomeini gymnastics. Lyssa put Yazmina in the middle room. The connecting doors would remain open when unoccupied so that Warlock could patrol them if left behind. A quick change and down to a press conference.
CHAPTER 3
Hammed waited patiently beside his uncle in the back as the many journalists crowded each other for the front row. Several men sat still on either side of them. Finally a door opened and a tall blonde woman stepped in followed by the Prince's cousin. The woman looked slowly at the crowd then glanced back to the girl who then stepped up to a podium and began reading from a sheet of paper.
"Ladies and gentlemen. My name is Yazmina, though I've been raised here in America, I'm still a citizen of Bhomeini. Our reigning Prince has known of my enthusiasm for sports; especially gymnastics, and when the chance came we discussed the possibility of representing our home of Bhomeini in the games. My mother was a gymnast, but she never made it to the Olympics. Her confidence in me gave me the courage needed to try. It is my hope that as the world watches all the athletes compete here in peaceful representation of their countries that we can all learn that not only in athletic excellence can the people of the world find unity, a spirit of togetherness, but also in our daily lives that peace can shine through. Thank you very much," Yazmina smiled to the photographers.
Suddenly a man stood up in the back and bellowed out a lengthy statement in Arabic and several men surged forward shoving through the journalists yelling.
Jerry watched as Lyssa held something behind her until the yelling start then he saw what it was and almost started laughing as he slipped in earplugs, moving closer to the girl. Lyssa carefully timed it and lobbed the object above the press. It went off with a 180 decibel bang and a one million candlepower strobe.
People fell over and lay strewn about and those that tried to stand staggered then fell over from the effects of the M-84 flash-bang grenade. Louder than a jet-engine and brighter than the sun with only Lyssa and J-Bo prepared for it and able to move.
"Get her out,"Lyssa said.
She hand signaled to make sure she was understood before striding into the fray. A quick glance verified no cameras were directed at her as she scooped up the man's Koran and pried open his mouth to shove it inside then slammed a punch to his right eye.
She turned and walked back saying casually, "Fanaticism and terrorist rhetoric will not be tolerated in any way here. Go home on your own or be sent; permanently."
Jerry got Yazmina down the hall, "you ok kid?"
"That was like, SUPER LOUD. what was that," she asked shaking her head to clear the swirling strobes in her vision along with the ringing in her ears.
The SEAL laughed, "that kiddo was what we call a flashbang. Fun; ain't they?"
"Whoa,I see swirlies! COOL! Who needs drugs when you can have one of THOSE things on a regular basis," she commented loudly.
Jerry chuckled, "you'll be ok in a little while sweetpea, don't worry."
He looked at Lyssa when she rejoined them, "i take it you understood what he said?"
"Hell no. I just got bored and said fuck-it. Yes DUMB-ASS; I did," Lyssa remarked hostily then turned to Yazmina, "Yazzie, do you understand exactly what just happened in there?"
The girl stopped shaking her head making faces and looked at her, "kinda, sorta, yeah. The guy in the back yelled out he was declaring a fatwa on me. From what I've been told by my aunties and all that; basically, its a death sentence. Um, in the name of all that is holy in Islam, yada yada, all muslims that wish to achieve paradise, blah blah blah; I'm supposed to be killed in the name of Allah the most just and righteous, all the doo-dah-day. I'm in big trouble now aren't I?"
Lyssa looked her in the eyes, "a metric shit-load of it and its not your fault."
"So what do I do," she asked looking alarmed.
"We wait a bit. Then tell the world that islamic law doesn't apply to Catholics," Lyssa said flatly.
Yazmina and Jerry both looked stunned.
"H-how did you know," she asked.
Lyssa smiled and tweaked the crucifix just inside the collar of Yazmina's blouse. Yazmina stared in shock then laughed joined by Lyssa.
Finally Jerry chuckled, "a Catholic. That's TOO rich. I LOVE IT!"
Hienricht Schneider was livid as Lyssa sat calmly across from him.
He demanded, "Frau Mason! What, in the name of GOD, possessed you to throw explosives during a LIVE press conference here at the Olympics?!"
"It was a tactical decision necessary due to the laziness and/or stupidity of the Olympic Security Group for allowing TERRORISTS into the aforementioned press conference. THE responsibility, and ensuing blame for which, rests directly with you. The IDIOT in charge. It was only a flash-bang anyway, nobody important got hurt and there was no property damage," Lyssa said in a bored tone.
She tried very hard not to giggle as the man's face and ears turned a bright red from his anger. Before he tried to continue his tirade she stood up and cut him off.
Lyssa snarled, "I'm tasked to the DSS and as such; I have the authority to utilize whatever means I, NOT YOU, deem necessary to ensure the safety of the competitor specified representing Bhomeini; by Presidential authority and that of the Prince. The ruler of said Kingdom the competitor represents. Now if you don't like it, you can go shit in your hat Herr Schneider but never-the-less, you better up your standards for the OSG because I'm very disappointed and have no problem saying so," Lyssa finished coldly.
"Now see here! This is the Olympics not some military zone," he all but screamed.
"I understand you're monumentally stupid when it comes to foreign customs. How you got this position is a great mystery to all concerned but listen close. the assassination of friendly foreign nationals on U.S. soil, especially during the Olympics, is beyond unacceptable and no idiotic posturing incompetent is going to facilitate said assassinations. Now if you don't like it I suggest you
resign so that someone with more appropriate levels of intelligence can step forward to administrate. By all means Herr Schneider, do your job but under no circumstances are you to even THINK you have any influence of me and how I will be performing my duties," Lyssa stated and made to leave.
At the door she stopped and said over her shoulder, "by-the-way. Uta bailed out of rehab again, didn't she? My my, heroin is such a nasty drug addiction to keep quiet. Someone might even think you could influence athletic results."
"How would you know about such things," he hissed.
Lyssa looked over her shoulder, "oh you'd be surprised at what comes my way. talk of your daughter, Uta. Your wife Isle's penchant for certain clubs featuring young men. That apartment in Vienna where you keep Veronika. Shame on you, she was Uta's best friend in school. Just turned seventeen didn't she? You're what; fifty-four now? Legal age now for her but still. Not commendable. You should pay more attention to whom you pass in the hallway Hienricht. You didn't even acknowledge when I said hello."
Lyssa slipped out the door without turning back. Heinricht immediately took out his cellphone and hit a number on the speed-dial list. Moments later he was swearing in German.
Yazmina had went through her warm up with other competitors for the floor exercises. She was still surprised at ALL of the Russian, and several other eastern block European girls, gracefully curtsying as Lyssa passed by them with a smile and word of thanks in flawless Russian.
When J-Bo had asked what that was all about, she remarked casually that it was simply respect afforded that they knew was earned and expected.
Yazmina had giggled the first few times Jerry flirted with Lyssa and called her pet names. But now she saw that Lyssa wasn't amused and slowly working her way toward anger. An anger that would soon be turned loose on the man if he didn't stop.
"Yazmina! You are not showing proper fluidity. Each move should be an extension of your last. You KNOW better young lady! AGAIN," Lyssa chastised her.
Several gymnasts flinched at the command and almost immediately obeyed. The Russian coaches nodded in approval at the authoritative American woman. They too, recognized her on sight and knew her reputation for excellence. Yazmina sighed then straightened and began again. Ekaterina had been right, Lyssa was a vicious taskmistress and would accept nothing less than one's best.
Her cousin, the Prince, had been outraged by the press conference. Apparently the Mufti, a muslim cleric that interpreted Islamic law, had not announced that he would be at the Olympics. Much less declaring a fatwa, death sentence in violation of Islamic law, for lewd and outrageous display by a woman. Traditionally a woman charged thus would summarily be stoned to death, struck repeatedly by rocks thrown by a mob until dead.
Being a catholic had been kept secret but now Lyssa had advised her it was time to reveal that secret. The first round of competition began shortly after Lyssa commented that she had improved and now just needed to find an inner calmness to carry onto the floor with her. After the groups of gymnasts had completed and given their scores they were each given a few minutes of
interview. Lyssa whispered to her that this was the time.
A reporter from Al-Jazeera immediately called out about the fatwa declared on her and how she intended to deal with it.
Yazmina stood tall and proud then said, "Mufti Harouk has no business being here and he certainly has no right to call for the death of a properly raised catholic young woman such as myself."
Several gasps could be heard in the crowd of press agents.
She continued, "To make such a RIDICULOUS charge is nothing short of an act of insanity. Its people like him that doom our GOOD world and give Islam a SHAMEFUL reputation. Islam can be a strong and dedicated faith, but NOT when it is corrupted by backwards thinking of power hungry madMEN, such as Mufti Harouk, who care nothing but to DICTATE the lives of others. I came to compete and bring athletic HONOR to my country regardless of RELIGION! I hope my dedication to the sport is reflected in my
performance in the events for THAT is what matters MOST. Thank you and now I'll make way for my most worthy competitor, the CURRENT points leader from Argentina, Lina Ramos."
Yazmina clapped and stepped back as the other gymnast walked forward smiling to her. The girls embraced each other in display of sportsmanship and wished each other well before Yazmina stepped away.
"Damn that was cool kiddo, you did GOOD," Jerry muttered to her as she stood beside him and Lyssa.
Lyssa herself looked at her steadily, "ok, you called him out. Now its his move, he'll take his lump and go back to Bhomeini with his tail between his legs or show himself as a serious radical and stay giving you grief. Either way now your cousin can step up and deal with him as can the U.S. state Department."
"How Prima Lyssa," Yazmina asked trying to stay on her good side.
Jerry piped up, "firstly the Prince can protest to have the visa revoked. To which the suit and tie guys will be more than happy to do to accommodate. Without the visiting visa he can formally be told to leave, and if he doesn't then the U.S. can LEGALLY detain and deport him. Lyssa and I can step in and make his life a bad walk down Main Street, Shitville. get it now?"
"Not just him. His whole entourage and if they really want to get nasty about it we call them out as a terrorist faction trying to operate in the U.S. and send their silly asses to Gitmo, or worse, and bury them forever," Lyssa added with an edged voice.
"Wow," Yazmina said with dismay, "you really have it bad for the Mufti."
"I have a thing against his kind. They're going to learn that they will not get away with bringing that stupidity here. We have enough as it is. Come on Yazzie, you did very good today. Time to get a shower and then we'll go get something to eat," Lyssa praised her.
"DA PRIMA LYSSA! I could really go for ice cream," Yazmina smiled.
"You did well on the floor and how you spoke highly of the Argentine girl is a plus. I think you earned a scoop or two but you WILL work it off first thing in the morning," Lyssa cautioned.
"Woohooo," the young gymnast celebrated.
"Sweet-thang; you ain't half bad," Jerry winked to Lyssa.
That quickly earned him a sore foot from her stepping down hard with her heel. To further drive her point home, at the door she used opening it to conceal a swift pop of her elbow at the top of his chest then swung her fist straight down to his groin making him choke then squelch trying to suck in air.
While Yazmina showered he asked, "the fuck was that for?"
"I've warned you once and let another slide. Now that I have your attention, get this very clear. I am NOT your darlin', or babycakes or sweet-thang and if you call me anything like that again I'll cripple you. Am I understood or am I wasting my time with a below SEAL standards knuckle-dragger," Lyssa glared at him.
Jerry slowly smiled, "aw honey. Those little love taps of yours...."
Lyssa didn't let him finish, like lightning she slammed the uppercut to his jaw. Between the punch and the force of it slamming his head into the hard tiled wall behind him, Jerry was knocked out and slid down the wall to the floor.
Lyssa turned and leaned against the wall, "I'm not your honey, either. Maybe I should've asked for one of the new cherries in Delta."
CHAPTER 4
"You LIED to me nephew," Mufti Harouk said with disappointment.
"But Uncle the girl is lewd and her display is outrageous! Not wearing proper coverings and showing the soles of her feet like a whore," Hammed protested.
"She is NOT muslim! Islamic law does not apply and you've made us all to be fools and worse in the eyes of our people. The Westerners will demand action, as will the Prince and he will not have any reservations. I'm surprised he's not had a call put through to me demanding my return to Bhomeini already," Harouk stated.
"Who cares about the westerners? They are infidels! Pigs in the eyes of Allah! The Leader demands judgement against the girl for her outrageous behavior; she must be slain in the name of Allah," Hammed demanded.
Harouk was about to speak when another man came in handing him a cellphone. After a brief conversation Harouk stood up and addressed the men gathered
Firmly he spoke, "Gather you things. Our Prince has been kind enough to purchase all seats on a flight that leaves in an hour. We will ride alone in our embarrassment."
After the rest of the group left the room Harouk turned to Hammed," well? Go and gather your things boy!"
Hammed looked at him defiantly, "No! I will stay and complete the work."
"YOU WILL GO HOME WITH THE REST OF US AND BE THE FIRST ON THE PLANE BECAUSE OF THE HUMILIATION YOU CAUSED US ALL. If you will not go along willingly the American State Department Security people will see to it you do. They are waiting downstairs now for us," The Mufti demanded.
"BAH! THE LEADER'S DEMAND FOR ACTION WILL BE MET BY A FAITHFUL SERVANT OF ALLAH," the young man bellowed.
Several men of the group came back in and grabbed him and began forcing him out to leave.
"I must find a way to make a suitable apology to that young girl," Harouk murmured to himself.
He collected his luggage and followed the group down with the struggling Hammed. Outside several black SUVs with State Department license plates waited to take them to the airport. They were driven directly to the plane on the tarmac, not the terminal and watched closely as they boarded the portable stairs. The vehicles remained until the passenger jet cleared the airport's outer marker border.
The rest of the women's gymnastics went without incident. The Mufti, wearing sunglasses, had been confronted at the Bhomeini airport and he gave a brief statement that he'd been misled about the young woman and he rescinded the fatwa. He formally apologized for making such a spectacle distressing all the athletes and asked that she accept his best wishes in the games to bring honor to the Kingdom that he'd shamed pleading in his zeal to uphold Islamic law he'd not been given all of the facts. A mistake he swore never to commit again.
A car waited for him outside the airport to drive him directly to the Palace where the Prince told him in no uncertain terms that should he open his mouth again publicly his tongue would be immediately cut out.
The nephew, Hammed, disappeared from his home that night amid rumors of dark vehicles being on the street sometime during the night and a U.S. Military flight took off before dawn under mysterious conditions. The only public statement issued by the Prince himself was that he had been, and still was, proud of his cousin for standing up for herself and representing the Kingdom in such peaceful competition among distinguished athletes representing their own countries with equal honor.
Yazmina stood at the jetway proudly wearing the bronze medal smiling, "Thank you Lyssa. PRIMA LYSSA! Who would never let me fail because she would not let me do anything less than my best at all times."
Lyssa smiled at her, "hold your head up Yazzie, you've earned a great honor. Be sure to always be worthy of it."
"I will! And thank you too J-Bo for watching over me and making me laugh when I needed to," she giggled.
"Did good sweetpea, ya mama and daddy sure be proud of ya," he winked at her with a smile.
Yazmina looked down, "Thanks to you too Warlock."
The belgian shepherd had been sitting watching attentively and gave her something between sneeze and a woof. Yazmina hugged Lyssa and Jerry then walked onto the plane.
Lyssa began walking toward the private terminal pulling her travel case with Warlock walking beside her.
"C'mon Lyssa. The job's done; we can let loose and have some fun. You know; now the kid's gone the grown-ups can play kinda fun,"Jerry drawled walking beside her.
Lyssa kept walking straight to a tall man talking on a phone in the private terminal who signed off, "We'll get on that soon enough."
Promptly he disconnected and looked at Lyssa then made an appraising noise. Jerry stood in shock as Lyssa stepped up to him and kissed him almost lewdly drawing more than one stare from passers-by.
After breaking the kiss Rodrick looked down at Warlock,"keep my wife safe?"
Warlock woofed then growled.
"Well let's go home then," Rodrick said.
Rodrick turned taking her rolling case with one hand and sliding his other around to Lyssa's back leaving Jerry gaping stunned. Warlock trotted beside them back out to the Gulfstream then climbed up the stairs.
Rodrick told Lyssa, "so unfortunate. Hammed somehow got transferred off the flight to Gitmo somewhere, but somehow somebody interrogated him and got a whole lot of info before he disappeared."
"Things have a strange way of happening in the Bermuda Triangle," Lyssa commented then walked up the stairs followed by a chuckling Rodrick.
Jerry Babineaux still stared in shock as the private plane pulled away.
"SHE'S MARRIED? WHAT THE FUCK," He said loudly.
Book 32 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa and Rodrick are making a visit at a Royal invitation, but a roll-out comes down. for once fame will hurt the op! WARNING: This Lyssa Kordenay Mission may be |
CHAPTER 1
Kimberly clicked on the window of her screen and saw Dannigan. "Major....what's up," she asked.
"Kimberly, where's Rodrick and Lyssa," Dannigan asked.
"On their way to Dubai, seems the Prince is extremely grateful to her for looking after his cousin," Kimberly answered.
Dannigan sat quiet for a moment, "ok. Who's there with you?"
"Star, Pete and Eddie right now, Carl will be back this evening. Do I need to put in a message recalling Lyss and Rodrick," she asked puzzled.
"No, get LoneStar. I'm sending a packet, the two of you will have to handle it. Especially you. That warp speed brain of yours is gonna get a real work out. No argument out of LoneStar, the BOTH of you are needed and needed RIGHT NOW. I'd wish you luck but luck's got nothing on this; Kimberly; do not fail. Is that clear," Dannigan demanded.
"Yes sir. We'll get right on it," Kimberly said.
Dannigan closed the chat and she saw the file had arrived.
"Get on what," Pete asked walking in.
"No idea but about to find out. get Star," Kimberly said opening the file and began reading.
LoneStar walked in silently and looked over her shoulder, his visor concealing his face as usual.
"What's this," he asked from within the flight helmet.
Kimberly never looked over her shoulder at him, "a nightmare. Pre-flight the Lear, we gotta go. Now."
Eddie followed them down to the weapons lockers, "need me?"
Kimberly began loading her bag with four pistols, two MP-5's, a disassembled medium sniper rifle and assorted grenades, "Not this time."
LoneStar loaded his bag similarly but substituted a CAR-15 for the sniper rig.
Pete looked at Kimberly with narrowed eyes, "Kim; you're loading out for an assault. That's not your gig, it's Lyssa's. What's going on?"
"Serial killer that seems to have a group of some kind providing support. Maybe a cult. This IS my gig,"Kimberly said without any anxiety.
"Ok, but promise me if it gets hairy you'll call for back-up and I don't mean me. You'll call Lyssa and Rodrick. No dicking around Kim. You either Star. This starts going south on you they get called in," Pete warned them.
LoneStar stepped over to be heard clearly, "you have our word. If this gets away from us I'll call them personally and then you to keep the loop open."
Pete nodded and went to prep the Learjet while Kimberly and LoneStar went to their shared trailer to pack.
Assistant Director Franklin Bales stared out the window to the bullpen of agents of the behavioral unit. They had been going full tilt for over a week and now the hammer was coming down hard. The eight year old son of the director of Defense Intelligence Agency had been taken by the disciples of the current serial killer they were hunting. They had closed in they thought but were an hour behind him when word came down last night.
Two agents killed in the line of duty meant nothing now. A message came down from the new Attorney General, the case was being turned over to Special Investigators from the National Security Agency. 'Men in Black'. Agents that worked at the highest level and if anybody, they answered to the President. Agents that could literally walk into the Capitol Building and shoot Senators and members of Congress. In front of television crews and not have to explain themselves. Agents that 'didn't exist' and could get anything from the brand of cereal one had for breakfast on their fourteenth birthday to the current launch codes for nuclear missiles.
He sighed as he saw a woman in a black skirt suit accompanied by a man completely covered with flight gear begin crossing the room from the door heading for his office. People stared at them as they passed. The woman had an expression that demanded silence. Surprisingly she knocked at his door, not that she had come to his door but had knocked.
"Come in," he called out.
The door opened and the woman stepped inside while the man nodded to her and stood in the doorway.
"A.D. Bales; Agent Calder," She announced herself then stood opposite him.
She didn't say from what agency, not that she had to. She didn't bother with hollow pleasantries either, neither offering a handshake nor assuming she was welcome to sit. Her green eyes glittering with intelligence focused unwavering on him. She also didn't bother naming her companion when Franklin glanced to him.
"the clock is ticking, show me what your people have," she said flatly.
From the window Johnathan Stoner could hear the television newscast, the FBI agent updating the public of Stoner's current appearance and last known location and projected travel path, which was wrong. He wasn't traveling anywhere. The Skid-Row hotel was where he wanted to be. Right under their noses in Washington D.C. his disciples on the other hand were out of the city where only he knew. two of them holding the boy belonging to the DIA Director.
It was a masterstroke on his part finding them and another to snatch him right out of the backyard. He could now flaunt in front of the FBI while several agencies argued who would overtake the case. He'd have two maybe three days to cause as much mayhem to throw them all into a frenzy before getting back on track. Not that it mattered because they'd never find him nor the boy. Johnathan smiled to himself and began putting on the tie and jacket before picking up the briefcase. A twenty minute taxi ride would get him over to Georgetown University and a certain law student working on her post graduate studies. She'd listed on an online resume that she'd interned at the FBI behavioral unit for the Assistant Director. He'd give her first hand knowledge of the workings of the criminal mind.
CHAPTER 2
"Agent Calder. Begging your pardon, but Stoner is LONG gone. He took the boy and bailed. Probably halfway to Canada or Mexico. The Canadians are cooperative but the Mexicans; you can hang that up," an agent with short hair named Ramona Fuentes stated.
"And that's why you can't catch him. He's not even left the D.C. area. No buses, trains, planes or traffic cams reveal him to be leaving and the cameras that did see him showed him going into an area of Alexandria," Kimberly said flatly.
Fuentes fumed silently. The A.D. had specifically instructed them all to not piss off the NSA investigators. The man in black flight gear reached over the group's analyst and typed in a few commands then pointed at the large screen that played a loop of Stoner walking around a corner in a section of Alexandria that had seen better days back in the seventies.
"ok. So that's our boy. Now what? we all go down there and canvas," an agent named Robinson asked.
"No. D.C. vice has people that are better suited to prowl and growl while two predator drones and a keyhole satellite cover the areas devoid of working cameras. Big Ears will monitor message traffic searching for his voice while all text and internet will be monitored by Aries," Kimberly answered coldly.
Several agents glanced at each other. They'd heard of the powerful super computer array run by the NSA specifically for signal interception intelligence. It monitored all incoming and outgoing transmissions on the eastern seaboard for non-verbal and internet communication. A duplicate named Persephone was on the west coast.
"Ma'am. An alert just came up," the analyst exclaimed pointing at the screen, "That protocol you activated has something."
Kimberly leaned over and typed then looked to the big screen.
"Got him! He got out of a cab across the street from Georgetown U. Cams are tracking him across the campus heading for the legal library," Kimberly said.
LoneStar directed both the Predators into the area, "let's go," he said in an icy voice.
Within minutes LoneStar was flying the Marine PaveLow over D.C. and set down on the college campus.
"I've got him. walking a girl into a storage building,"Kimberly announced showing a tablet PC.
The Agents followed her lead. She had already changed from the suit and heels to a pair of black leggings and tall boots but still wore the black blouse and two auto-pistols at the small of her back with five magazines each on the belt. Only two of the male agents understood her hand-signals as she and LoneStar took up station on both sides of the door. Silently they entered and began to clear the building room by room. Finally they heard noises and followed them to a back room where the girl struggled and protested as Stoner began tying her to a workbench.
Kimberly and LoneStar rushed in and she slammed one of her pistols to the back of his head then began securing him. Back on the helicopter Stoner was a bit loopy but smiling as the agents rejoined Kimberly. She waved and they took off.
Over the headset she instructed LoneStar, "when we land a hummer will meet us to take him over to the POW facility."
"Wait POW? What do you mean POW Agent Calder," an agent named Christiansen asked.
Kimberly turned and looked at the woman, "Stoner is prepared for everything you'd throw at him, not everything I will, Agent. The game changed when he took the Director's son. This is national security now."
Elaine Christiansen looked at Kimberly's green eyes and saw neither humor nor malevolence, just cold detachment and felt a chill crawl up her back. A quick glance at her computer revealed Stoner had made a call and the cellphone was still active. She diverted LoneStar to the last pinged position.
Stoner sat quietly smirking as the helicopter landed and all but two agents piled out. Ten minutes later they came back with a man who's head was black bagged and they strapped him into a seat opposite him.
The strawberry haired woman leaned in, "he can't hear you so don't bother to try talking to him."
"Are you upset Agent? You must be new to the BAU. I thought I knew you all," he quipped.
"No; you don't know me. You're going to wish you hadn't met me. I'm not FBI," Kimberly answered.
"Oh? Really? You must be DIA then," he smirked.
Kimberly said nothing more as she signaled for LoneStar to take off. Stoner heard them say Quantico but when they landed it wasn't the typical SUVs that met them but two Marine Corp Humvees. He looked around curiously as he was brought into a room in what appeared to be a warehouse and put at a table. For a reason he couldn't imagine the pilot stood at the door as the woman sat down opposite him.
Kimberly said,"no games at all. Where is the boy?"
"What no small talk? No pleasant chat? No; deals," Stoner asked leering.
Kimberly said nothing just took her pistol and slammed the fingers of his left hand.
"OWWWWWWW! FUCK," Stoner yelled.
Before he could really move, Kimberly grabbed his hair and slammed him face first into the table top twice and stood up.
"In case you hadn't noticed; no miranda rights were read to you. You do not have the right to remain silent. You do not have the right to an attorney. You need not be concerned that anything you say will be used in a court of law; you won't see one. The only thing that will keep your body in one piece is informing me of the whereabouts of the boy AND his safe retrieval. Then and ONLY THEN will I administer one ten millimeter jacketed round into your skull. Hold absolutely NO illusions; Stoner, Johnathan David. You will not leave this room alive," she said coldly.
Agent Fuentes stood gaping in the observation room,"tell me you all just heard that. She just said flat out that she was gonna summarily execute him! Even if he cooperates!"
"No agent Fuentes. Cooperation wasn't mentioned at all. There will be no deals. He is required to tell her where the boy can be found and safely returned. Period," A.D Bales clarified without looking away from the large screen.
"But sir are you implying that his civil rights are forfeit and to get the information illegal means may be used," Elaine Christiansen asked.
"I'm not implying anything Agent Christiansen. I am telling you; Agent Calder is under a National Security Finding and will; I repeat, WILL use any and all means to extract the necessary information. We are being allowed to observe and assist when she deems it necessary. None of us have any authority in this matter," Bales stated then said softly," if you do not have the constitution to handle what's about to happen, I advise you to go now. Not even God himself can stop what's about to take place here."
They all turned to watch as the second man was brought in still with his head bagged and secured to the wall. Kimberly pulled the bag off.
He looked over and smiled, "Johnathan!"
"Hello Daniel. These people think that one of us is going to betray the other," Stoner smiled.
"I'm willing to DIE for you Johnathan," he said proudly.
"Brave words," Kimberly said.
She took out a small black case and unzipped it to reveal two ampoules and hypodermic needles. She withdrew an amount of clear liquid into a syringe and tapped out the bubbles.
"Sodium Pentathol," Stoner chuckled.
Kimberly approached the other man, Daniel.
"You both wish it was. I'm not as familiar as one of my colleagues with this chemical. Its called Inanna. She was the anti-muse," Kimberly injected the serum into Daniel's neck, "a muse inspired one to do great things. Inanna was the anti-muse, she inspired; horror."
LoneStar stepped out of the room and closed the door.
"A bit squeamish, your friend," Stoner smiled.
"No," Kimberly said then turned back to Daniel who began to slump in the restraints, "He's out there to make sure no one tries to stop me. He'll kill anyone that tries to come in. No matter who they are."
Daniel looked up and saw Kimberly then began to repeat to himself, "NO. Its not real. Its a trick. ITS A TRICK!"
She brought out a Fairbarne-Sikes knife and approached him, "No fool. Welcome to Hell. This is VERY real."
Slowly she began cutting off his clothes then using the blade to slice under his skin and rip it downward.
Inside the observation room one of the agents vomited.
"Get him out of here," A.D. Bales said without turning away from the screen as the screaming hitched up another octave.
They all watched in silence except for muttered exclamations and gasps as Daniel shrieked for Johnathan to save him.
Kimberly continued to slowly skin him alive as Johnathan called out to him,"Its nothing. Tell THEM NOTHING DANIEL!"
"No Daniel. This is real and its happening to YOU. It will continue happening to YOU! For ALL Eternity. You BELONG to me and I'll NEVER let you go," Kimberly said menacingly.
Daniel looked at her and saw only a grotesque form dragging claws down his body and bringing up pieces of skin to show him before dropping them with a sick wet slap to the floor at his feet.
"oh my god..." whispered one female agent.
"she hasn't gotten to his scrotal area yet ma'am. Unless he talks first. He can't hold out much longer. He has no training or religious conviction to protect his mind from this," a Marine stated.
"How can you watch this Sergeant," Agent Fuentes asked in horror.
"What we see is nothing compared to what he's seeing ma'am. He was administered a chemical compound. If it is what I believe the rumors to be; just being injected with that stuff breaks most subjects. about forty percent. For the rest; this will extract the information. NOBODY holds out forever. The Russians had something similar, but if the stories are true about this stuff here. Its about ten times more powerful and about eighty percent more reliable," he stated.
Suddenly Daniel began screaming,"Emma! Emma Hartwynn! Emma Hartwynn knows where the boy is! Please! Please, Emma will get you the boy! Let me go! LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOO! EMMA HARTWYN!"
He began confessing how he came to be in Stoner's control and how the boy had been taken down to the last detail.
Finally Kimberly stopped, "If you've lied, when I come back I'll feed you your own face...."
Stoner simply stared at what was left of his lackey in a mixture of horror and excitement.
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa answered on the third ring, "hey Kimberly. How's it going?"
"Lyssa; how do I not get sick," Kimberly asked quietly.
"What do you mean," Lyssa asked puzzled.
"I just did an interrogation. I used Inanna to kick-start and then I, used cutting," Kimberly tried to control the shiver.
"What in the FUCK is going on," Lyssa roared over the phone, " WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? This is NOT what you do Kimberly Susan Moore!"
"I have to. This is too visible for you to work this," Kimberly objected.
"Fucking God in a shit-tornado! Ok tell me this; who was in the room with you,"Lyssa demanded.
"Bad guys. the one I worked on and his leader. Star was outside the door," Kimberly answered.
"Ok. Did you get what you wanted. EXACTLY, what you wanted," Lyssa asked.
"I got the next player,"Kimberly said.
"subject terminated," Lyssa asked.
"No. Still alive; more or less," Kimberly admitted.
"Jesus you're gonna have nightmares over this. Pay attention; leave him alive if possible. Bring in the next person and make sure he speaks to them then go to work on them. How much did you give him," Lyssa continued.
"twenty CC's of it," Kimberly said on a sigh.
"FUCK! Ok. He's done. He's too damaged physically anyway. After you bring in the new subject and get him to say something. Anything; cut the carotid artery and let him bleed out in front of them. Then go to work on them. Make the leader watch and they know he's watching and that he won't do anything to help them in any way. am I understood," Lyssa asked hotly.
"yes, I understand,"Kimberly said.
"You get three shots at this and then its nothing anymore so make the next one count and COUNT HARD! If you feel yourself getting sick; sing. Sing that song from miami vice. You know all the words. You sing that and the urges will pass. It'll freak them out too. Christ this is not what you do Kimberly! Pay attention; when you get done go take a shower til the hot water runs out, you can be sick in there if you have to but NOT in front of your subjects. Now go get 'em and do the job. I'm only a phone call away, so call me before you start," Lyssa reminded.
Kimberly affirmed that then disconnected heading for the chopper waiting for her.
Emma hid in a closet with a kitchen knife then dialed 911 and spoke quickly when they answered, "please help! its my boyfriend. He's still stalking me. I saw him outside! Oh god i think i just heard glass break! please hurry!"
Quickly she disconnected and began waiting making herself cry but within moments the door was yanked open and the muzzle of a pistol jammed to her head before she could move.
An icy female voice said softly,"give up, you're done."
Emma froze and saw a woman with strawberry blonde hair back-lit.
"I thought it was my boyfriend,"she tried to explain.
Emma was cut off by Kimberly snapping the butt of her pistol to Emma's forehead, dazing her, then dragged her out and began using plastic restraints to secure her wrists.
"No wait...you don't understand. my boyfriend is crazy. wait! what are you doing," she protested as a black bag was tugged over her head.
She heard loud engines as she walked into something then strapped into a seat.
After a while the helicopter descended and she was put into a truck of some kind and the woman she'd heard before was speaking softly to someone apparently on a phone because she couldn't hear responses. The truck stopped and she was roughly pulled out and dumped on the ground then jerked up and all but dragged into a building. Her wrists were released then tied far apart and pulled upright til her toes barely reached the floor.
The bag was pulled off and suddenly she saw Johnathan staring at her with a look of almost lust on his face as the woman walked over to what was left of Daniel.
"That is Emma Hartwyn, yes," she asked in almost a hiss.
"ye-yeah, its her. Please kill me. Let me out of Hell, I WANT TO DIE," Daniel rasped.
Kimberly injected Emma then leaned close to him and whispered, "never, you belong here. to ME. Forever Daniel. FOR EVER."
He shrieked animalistically and she drew a knife along his mangled neck making blood slowly leak down his body to the floor and pool. Emma watched as her clothes were cut off as if in a tunnel then things became fuzzy and dim. The strawberry blonde woman wasn't a woman anymore, she'd changed, transformed into something like Medusa, the fabled snake woman. Emma looked over to Johnathan and saw only a demon leering back then the soft womanly voice began singing softly as she reached out with a claw and sliced into the underside of Emma's arm then yanked hard ripping the skin and flesh away. Emma shrieked with pain as the hideous creature repeated the stripping of skin from her, working down her sides and stomach to her legs.
She finally screamed, "STOP! STOP! I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING, GIVE YOU ANYTHING!"
"What could you possibly have of value to anybody but THIS PLEASURE," the creature asked in a hiss.
"A boy! The boy! The Director's son! I took him to the farm! Please its in Virginia out past the highway, on Miller's crossing road! Its at the end on the left, I swear it! Only Tony and Belinda guard him, teaching him to kill," Emma shrieked.
"Oh fret not Emma Hartwyn. If I find nothing of value we'll continue this; starting with me carving open your womanhood and yanking out any thought you had of children of your own and feeding them to you. Oh yes. I will be returning FOR YOU," the creature hissed and walked out the door.
the demon in the chair chuckled and growled, "you look so lovely like that. I wish she hadn't stopped so soon with you. I hope you lied."
Emma screamed, "JOHNATHAN SAVE ME! KILL ME! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE WITH THEM!"
All she heard was maniacal laughter.
CHAPTER 4
LoneStar flew in fast and high as they closed on the farmhouse.
"Everybody strap in. STRAP IN," Kimberly yelled over the noise as she tightened her straps.
A minute later the engines shut off and all they heard was wind as the aircraft lurched then began to fall.
"We're auto-rotating in! Its safe and we'll be fine, but they won't know we're there so just relax and hang tight," Kimberly yelled out.
Moments later they felt the pitch of the rotors change as LoneStar pulled back on the collective and almost as if they slammed into a wall; floated the last few feet down to land with a slight bump.
"Let's go," Kimberly said and walked off the back ramp drawing both pistols.
Quickly they formed a loose perimeter around the house. Agent Fuentes started edging forward when the pilot in all black grabbed her arm and held tight. She noticed it as he slowly pointed, a tripwire. she traced it back to a metal pipe.
An icy male voice came over their radios, "tripwire. Rigged to an improvised anti personnel munition. Real deal here. Proceed with caution."
Fuentes never heard a voice like it and secretly never wanted to again. Slowly they made their way past the booby-trap and worked a window up to slide into the house. the television in the background was tuned to the news, broadcasting the weather.
"Any word about Johnathan or the others," a man's voice asked.
"No, there was no story at all other than an attempted purse snatching at the campus," a woman answered.
Tony thought for a moment then asked, "think its a cover story about johnathan?"
Belinda replied, "no because the description was of an african american teenager, in a wind-suit with a hoody. Johnathan's smart but I don't think he can quite pull that off."
LoneStar's boot steps were silent as he eased into the room and behind the man.
At the last second the woman turned and saw him, "Ton..."
she began to cry out but the black-clad pilot slammed the butt of his pistol to the back of the man's head, dropping him; like the proverbial ton of bricks. Belinda found herself staring down the barrel of the largest hand cannon she'd ever seen and slowly raised her hands.
Kimberly slowly pushed the door open at the top of the stairs and saw the little boy sitting up in the middle of the bed looking out the window.
LoneStar's voice came out again, "Two hostiles in the kitchen. Secured."
Kimberly answered, "I've found the boy. Hi Stevie."
"Who are you," he asked.
"I'm an Agent for the government Stevie. I've come to get you and see to it you get home."
"Do you work for my dad," he asked.
"No but I know who he is. C'mon little man. Time to go home," she answered then swung him into her arms after holstering her pistols.
When they got back downstairs LoneStar was finishing bagging the heads of the couple downstairs and walking them out. she held him during the flight back. The director and his wife were waiting on the landing pad along with the two humvees again.
"Thank you so much Agent Calder! You've no idea how much this means to us," She said hugging the boy close.
"Glad it worked out our way Ma'am. Please excuse me though," Kimberly answered then climbed into a humvee and rode away with the two prisoners.
After they were secured she removed their bags.
"First one to talk doesn't have to go through that," she pointed at the two mangled bodies.
One still breathing and babbling incoherently to herself begging for God to come take her from Hell and the Medusa.
The woman quickly said, "oh dear god! Emma! Please. I'll tell you anything. Just don't do that to me, please."
Kimberly showed her the syringe, "Lie to me once and Hell on earth will be your new home."
Belinda began speaking very quickly about others lying in wait and further plans that would be started in two days. Kimberly knew that the A.D. was already making the calls need to snatch up the rest of the group. For effect Kimberly let Emma see her, prompting a bloodcurdling scream and her renewed babbling of prayers.
Stoner was on full psychotic overload and maniacally giggling to himself watching her. Two hours later Kimberly heard LoneStar knock then lean in and nod.
"Well now that seems to be you did well Belinda," Kimberly drew her pistol and leveled it between her eyes.
"Hail Mary; full of grace..." Belinda began but Kimberly pulled the trigger ending the prayer in mid-sentence.
Slowly she turned and pressed the muzzle against Tony's head then slid it lower to the back.
"too slow on the uptake," Kimberly said softly and pulled the trigger.
The round blasted through and Tony hung in his restraints then began to convulse. Slowly she walked over to the mangled body of Emma and pressed the hot muzzle behind her ear and her scalp singed make her cry loudly.
"Forever; my PET," Kimberly hissed then pulled the trigger cutting off the ruined woman's wail.
Smiling Johnathan Stoner had wet himself from his own perverse excitement watching them all be executed when Kimberly finally turned on him and aimed down the slide.
"Think you're lucky Stoner," she asked quietly.
He only giggled at her. Kimberly pulled the trigger four times but none were head or heart penetrating shots. He looked down and saw blood that was almost black flowing from him.
Whispering into his ear Kimberly said, "those shots destroyed your liver and spleen. Nobody could save you even if they wanted to and I have no problem giving the devil his due. I'm sending him you."
Slowly Kimberly stood up then walked out of the room locking the door behind her.
LoneStar stood with two Marines in the hallway, "You understand your orders?"
"Yes sir. No one is to enter that room for an hour; after an hour a body removal team will remove the contents of the room and sanitize it Sir," one of the Marines stated.
Kimberly nodded to LoneStar and he turned to them, "carry out your standing orders Marines."
They both snapped to attention and saluted,"Aye Aye Sir!"
They then took station on either side of the door with rifles at the ready after noting the time.
Another Marine stepped out of the observation room and presented Kimberly with several discs, "these are all of them Ma'am. no duplicates; as you ordered."
"Well done Sergeant. Carry on," Kimberly said then she and LoneStar returned the salute and turned to leave.
A.D. Bales stood to the side saying nothing as the agents talked among themselves. He understood their frustration. They were Agents, not spies or military. Systematic torture wasn't what they did, they accumulated evidence and used it to lock the psychos and criminals away. He knew Agent Calder wasn't really Agent Calder but used a cover identity. Most in the CIA, DIA and NSA did, it was standard procedure to have a working alias. He also suspected that within a few more hours everything about 'Agent Calder of the NSA' would be completely gone. As if such person never existed.
"HEY! Who are those guys," Fuentes demanded.
Bales looked to the screen and saw several men in white disposal suits begin bagging the bodies and collecting up all other evidence.
"Those aren't forensic techs, medical examiners or coroners! What's going on Sir," Agent Christiansen asked.
"Hey where's the discs of what happened in there for that matter? Marine! Marine," Agent Robinson yelled out.
The sergeant entered the room and immediately Agents Robinson and Fuentes began demanding the discs.
"what discs Ma'am...Sir," the Marine sergeant asked, "there's no discs; nothing happened other than routine Marine Corps POW training and we don't make media records of it. I think your training session is over. I hope you retain the knowledge in the future and never find yourself in the position of a POW. Have a good day Agents."
They looked at the screen just in time to see the last of the blood be sprayed down into a drain in the floor. No traces left behind. Like it had never happened. All that was left was memory.
A.D. Bales turned finally, "Let's go people. Nothing more for us here and we have cases to solve."
Several muttered under their breath as they filed out and left.
Pete answered on the first ring, "Hangar."
"It's me Pete," Lyssa said," are they back yet?"
"Not yet Lyssa. LoneStar just sent the message that they were taking off like ten minutes ago," Pete answered.
"ok. when they get back have Kimberly strip right there on the tarmac and hose her down real good. Like a Decontamination shower and burn the clothes right their and make her do it. all the clothes she wore....shoes and lingerie included and that badge and ID too. use a torch to melt the knife into a pellet of slag and the guns too,"Lyssa instructed.
"Damn Lyssa what happened," Pete asked stunned.
"She had to do an interrogation. Serious psychos and she had to go hardcore to get the information. Things she was never prepared before to do,"Lyssa explained.
Pete was quiet for a minute, "jesus Lyssa is she gonna be able to deal with this."
"make sure she vents. She wasn't ready for that and it'll take some doing to get it into a perspective for her to process. If she has nightmares about it ok. If she has night terrors call us," Lyssa said.
"will do. I guess that's all of us now," Pete commented.
Lyssa sounded puzzled," what do you mean?"
Pete explained," well, we're all kinda screwed up in some way or another. We all have some degree of delayed stress. Now she does too."
Lyssa sighed, "yeah but its not a club I enjoy welcoming new members into Pete. Rodrick's not thrilled either."
"I hear ya, boss lady. Listen, there's nothing to do until something happens and I know its nightime there. Go crawl back into bed with Rod and try to get some sleep. If we need, we'll call," Pete assured her.
Lyssa said goodbye and disconnected then looked out the open window to the strip of shimmering ocean beyond the sand. The view from the Prince's palace was incerdible but her thoughts were elsewhere as she turned and left the bedroom to walk down the hall. A striking vision in a black satin teddy with her chiffon robe billowing behind her and the sharp tapping of her heels on the marble floors in the filtering moonlight.
Book 33 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa and Rodrick are making a visit at a Royal invitation, but Lyssa isn't welcomed by all! WARNING: This Lyssa Kordenay Mission may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Through the patches of filtered moonlight Lyssa walked down the marble corridor. The sheer ankle length black robe billowed to reveal the black satin teddy. The sharp tapping of her heels slightly echoing her passing as she made her way to the kitchen. She and Rodrick had spent the past two days at the Prince of Bhomeini's palace at his invitation. The second day was marked with a reception and bestowing of the Bhomeini Crescent, a high honor. It was the highest honor a non-military person could receive and was at the Prince's discretion as to its awarding.
Yazmina, the cousin of the Prince had received one as well for bringing home the bronze medal in women's gymnastics, though she would have received it regardless for simply competing as she had been the first woman of Bhomeini citizenship to ever compete in the Olympics. Lyssa had played both bodyguard and chaperon to the young athlete and currying the favor of the Prince by doing so.
All that was at the back of her mind now as she stepped into the grand kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the cooler specifically for beverages then made her way back. Lyssa stopped in the corridor and gazed out the window to the vast expanse of sand with a dark ribbon that glimmered past it of the ocean.
"An amazing view, is it not? The barren desert and then the all providing ocean," came an accented voice in English.
Lyssa turned to see the Prince himself gazing out the window as well.
"I've awoken you, my apologies Your Highness," Lyssa curtsied with all the grace of the Prima ballerina she was.
The Prince smiled, "The fault of my insomnia has no blame with you Mrs. Mason. Please enjoy the view with me and perhaps we may both find some serenity that would allow us some rest."
"what keeps his Highness awake these past nights," Lyssa asked turning to look back out the arched window.
The Prince was quiet for several moments, "news has reached me that the troubles that you had to deal with in your city of Portland was not of the Mufti's making but of his nephew and even then not entirely his construction. I've been told you spend much time looking out to the sea. Does it remind of you of your home in the Caribbean, you miss it?"
Lyssa sighed, "Your Highness is well informed. In a way I do miss the home I share with my husband. It's very peaceful there. If not the Mufti's nephew then another hand pulled the strings? Perhaps a more sinister intent attempting to warp and corrupt your Islamic law?"
"I envy you that peaceful home. The peacefulness of your life. An artist with so few complications," he admitted," the 'corruption and warping' of Islamic law is nothing new Mrs. Mason. It's been an ongoing thing since the belief began. I have no doubt that it will continue for quite some time regardless of what heads of Muslim nations may wish."
Lyssa sighed again, "the demented will always attract the disillusioned and exploit the devoted to wreak the diabolical creating the disenfranchised. Before I met my husband there were always complications; I'll admit that I was often pursued by men of influence and of means. Many of them without even admirable intentions. I, myself, had practically given up on the possibility of love. Rodrick is not the type to think he can buy or batter my defenses. He climbed the walls around my heart and swam his way through icy rivers protecting it. He won me; from myself."
The Prince smiled, "grace is not limited only to your dancing, but also your words and observations. Even when speaking of dark things and of light things you make the conversation to be enjoyed. Now I envy your Husband. I believe that sinister hand, as you so eloquently put, is hiding here in my own kingdom and I find myself wanting to seek it out and remove it from us before it brings more disgrace."
"often I've quoted to my pupils Your Highness,'Do; or do not. There is no try.' Perhaps now we can both find some rest. Your Highness," again Lyssa curtsied then began walking back to the bedroom.
"Inspiring words Mrs.Mason. Who said them," the Prince asked.
Lyssa looked over her shoulder and smiled, "Yoda."
The Prince chuckled to himself as the sound her heels subsided in the distance, "however did I overlook such a woman of charm, wisdom, grace and ferocity I'll never know. Surely her Rodrick knows the treasure he has in her."
Quietly Lyssa slipped back into the room to rejoined Rodrick in their bed and settled back into his arms and falling asleep.
Azziz watched as his men trained in the cold night air learning how to prepare explosives in the dark. A few minutes later the loud pops went off in success. Not as rewarding as large explosions but better to train with small amounts of the real thing than waste precious resources or risk accidents. The gymnast and her american chaperon were currently being entertained in that farce of a Prince's palace. Several tours and other distractions were going to give him and his men opportunity to kill them even though the fatwa had been rescinded because the idiot girl being a catholic and not Muslim. Her death would send another message as well. Arabic women should be Arabic women and not trained into infidels just because the father has no spine to teach his kept woman not to interfere with a proper upbringing in Islam.
"Hurry! Hurry and make no mistakes or forfeit your souls," he shouted as the men began setting the explosives on mock cars.
some would be on timers and others wired to improvised ignition systems and others to remote detonators. Their latest trick had been to rig one car that would be passing the target car and both would be destroyed, leaving anyone to investigate exactly who had been the intended victim. They currently hadn't decided which technique would serve them best so he had them practicing all of them.
The biggest problem was the unpredictability of the Americans. Quite often they changed vehicles if not the whole plan entirely at the last moment. The blonde demon woman was the cause of this. As if she had a sixth sense warning her of dangers. It was commented more than once she instructed the drivers to change direction during the trip; like she had a map inside her head. She walked fearlessly through markets and bazaars though without any covering, challenging action to taken. When all around her wore black, she wore white. When they wore white she would be in pink. Advertising her presence but denying approach.
They would have to proceed regardless, creating unwilling martyrs. Such was the path to Allah. Some achieved paradise without setting out for it. For now they were all secure. The Prince had no idea they were here thirty miles inside his border preparing for holy war. Another series of loud pops went off marking success again.
"Again but faster this time! In the name of Allah and his prophet," he ordered.
Dannigan dialed the number for the hangar personally.
Three rings later an icy cold voice answered,"Hangar. Go."
Dannigan wasn't surprised to hear him, "hey Joe. How's it going down there?"
"she's down on the beach. Probably trying to wash off blood that isn't there anymore," came the flat reply.
"Damn. How hard is she taking it," Dannigan asked.
"if she doesn't start pulling it together in a few days its something we can't handle in-house. All that psychology training and she may still fall apart," LoneStar answered.
"We all know there's the big difference in what we know and what we do ourselves," Dannigan stated.
LoneStar was quiet for a moment then said as if musing, "...The abyss looks back."
"Neitzche said it best, 'take care when fighting the monsters that we do not become monstrous ourselves.' It tends to ring true,"Dannigan said.
"I do what I do because its what I do and I can't do anything else anymore. no philosophy to it, just fact," LoneStar said coldly.
"I've never accused you of being one dimensional before. Not about to start now. Neither am I going to suggest a degree in philosophy might change anything about you either. I prefer my jaw unbroken thanks," Dannigan commented.
LoneStar didn't reply to that and they were both quiet until Dannigan said, "when she comes back in have her contact me."
"Anything else,"LoneStar asked.
Dannigan sighed, "that's it. Do what you can for her."
"Yeah," LoneStar answered then disconnected.
For several minutes Dannigan sat staring at the window wishing he had something suitable to throw through it to vent his anger at himself. He'd had no choice but to send her in there and now Kimberly's brilliant mind was unraveling. That made the decision even more straight forward. Lyssa couldn't be everywhere and sometimes her fame worked against them almost as often as it worked for them, but even she had to be getting tired after pushing limits for so long non-stop.
CHAPTER 2
Rodrick passed over the coins and smiled to the young boy after Lyssa took the small bag of dates and thanked him. Her crisp white dress reflecting the bright sun back as her eyes scanned behind the pink mirrored lenses of her sunglasses. Casually they meandered through the crowd and stands. One stall held copper cookware and she used the polished surfaces like mirrors to look
all around them.
"Two guys at nine o'clock. Either scoping my purse and your wallet or they have far more nefarious plans," she said in a low voice.
"Think we can grab one and take him for a chat if they make a move on us," Rodrick asked as they stopped in front of a water vendor and asked for two bottles.
Lyssa took one of the bottles and drank from it, "sure, but we need to find a way back to the car and a private spot to make the grab."
Slowly they wandered around as if led by Lyssa's attention span until the two men suddenly found themselves in a tight alleyway. To their horror Rodrick stepped out at the end smiling. Lyssa stood right behind them when they turned around. Her fist full of the Marauder knife that streaked out to slam into one's throat. While the other was distracted by the spray of blood coating himself and the wall, Lyssa's punch took him totally off guard slamming his head to the wall and he slumped down.
"So much for neat and tidy," Rodrick commented looking at the arterial spray along the wall.
He began dragging the unconscious Arab to the end of the alley.
Lyssa checked around making sure nobody saw them, "That was neat and tidy. All the blood went on him and the wall, not on ME. I'd never get blood out of this dress."
Rodrick chuckled as he zip-tied the man's wrists and ankles. Lyssa tore off a piece of tape to secure a rag in the man's mouth gagging him.
"I just happen to know a quiet little sand dune we can go chat with this guy at," Rodrick said.
"ooooh! I love a ride outside the city," Lyssa cooed then giggled at his side-glance.
Quickly they drove out of the city and pulled off the highway and drove out a few miles. Rodrick opened the back and dragged the man out letting him dump onto the hot sand. Rodrick looked down at the man glaring back with hatred in his eyes.
The ex-SEAL smiled coldly, " whaddaya think baby; tie him to the back bumper and go Dukes of Hazzard out here for an hour?"
"If I wouldn't have to dig the hole I'd say; bury him up to his neck and come at him with a lawnmower," she replied.
"Babe; remember where we are. No lawnmowers handy for that. I think it goes against Islam to grow grass," Rodrick commented.
Lyssa leaned down and used the Marauder to cut the man's clothing off then slammed a punch to his temple stunning him and quickly cut the ties of his wrists and ankles. A moment later as he shook his head to clear the fuzziness he realized she'd used more ties to secure him to the bumper naked while Rodrick tied his ankles to a boulder making him spread eagle to the SUV on
the hot sand.While Rodrick put the Mercedes in gear and slowly stretched him out Lyssa wandered around the cluster of rocks. The man hung suspended taking measured breaths to try compensating for the pain when Lyssa returned carrying a large empty water bottle. Rodrick pulled the gag off.
"Found something interesting," he asked.
"mmhmmm," Lyssa answered.
She tipped the cut bottle and dumped the contents onto the man's mid-section. Two small beige scorpions. Lyssa then poured some water into the man's navel.
"Now this should make things exciting," Lyssa looked the man in the eye.
There was no humor. She hadn't smiled and her eyes betrayed no amusement either.The scorpions detected the water then began to stalk each other to fight over it on the man's stomach. Lyssa disappeared around the side of the truck for a while as Rodrick and the man watched the two scorpions square off against each other. She returned a moment later wearing only a thong and sandals. She hadn't been wearing a bra under the halter-style dress that now lay on the passenger seat.
"We may be a while so I'll work on my tan," Lyssa commented casually.
They watched the two scorpions pose and threaten each other. Lyssa noticed a disposable cigarette lighter had slipped out of the man's clothes. She reached down and picked it up.
Rodrick leaned forward, "what're you going to do with that Babe?"
Lyssa crouched down, looked to the man's face then held the lighter under his buttocks and sparked it to flame.
"This should liven things up," Lyssa said in a bored tone.
The Arab started trembling which agitated the two insects even more. After a minute he began trying to hold back his shouts of pain. She stopped for a minute then repeated.
"There are things worse than death. I'm familiar with so very many," Lyssa said in an almost sing-song voice.
Rodrick knew she was walking a fine line at the moment, shifting into a detachment of what she was doing.
"Maybe we should juice this guy up wit that stuff you use," he suggested.
Lyssa stared the man intently in the eyes, "no. I want him to fully know what I'm doing if I decide to take away his chance to go to paradise. I'm going to take it COMPLETELY AWAY."
One of the scorpions finally chased the other away. Unfortunately for the Arab it went down instead of up and now stood still menacingly in front of his penis.
Rodrick sat there and said, "oh man. You are about to have a seriously fucked up day."
The man held his breath as the tail arched up higher in response to a tremor it felt.
"You know you won't be able to do a damn thing with those seventy-two virgins if your dick gets destroyed right," Rodrick said casually watching the scorpion flex its tail in anger.
"A thousand bucks says it stings him right on the head of it,"Lyssa remarked.
"Nah. He's a smart guy. I get the feeling he has something very important to tell us if we promise to take the bug off. Aren't you a smart guy," Rodrick asked.
"We call him Leader. His name is Azziz Rahmoud," the man stammered out then held his breath.
The tail swayed slowly.
Lyssa said, "he's getting really mad. So where do we find this Azziz Rahmoud?"
"Th-thirty miles just inside the border. East of Peshatan in the gorge there. Please! Take it away," the Arab stammered.
Lyssa tilted her head watching the scorpion, "we're not done. You have more."
"How many spies does he have in the palace and who are they," Rodrick asked.
"Please! there is only two. The maid Fascha is his cousin, and the guard Ahmad Nidal is a boyhood friend. That is all I know! I swear upon Allah," he begged.
"and his grand plan is what," Lyssa prompted.
"He intends to car bomb you and the girl. Please I BEG you. That is ALL I know! Please take the scorpion away," the man begged again.
Rodrick looked to Lyssa, "what do you think?"
She nodded, "he's empty."
Lyssa used her knife to flick the scorpion off then cut the cords holding him to the boulder. She then cut the ties holding his wrists to the bumper then re-secured them behind his back. She then firmly grabbed his jaw and squeezed to force him to look into her eyes.
"I told you what I was going to do. Past the gates; before the throne, I've seen Hell. Enjoy your walk there," Lyssa said coldly then grabbed his shaft and scrotum and sliced through with the Marauder.
He screamed in horror as she simply dropped his masculinity onto the hard-packed sand and walked back to the passenger seat, slipped her dress back on and slid in.
Rodrick drove away shaking his head, "that was un-nerving."
Lyssa stared ahead and used a wipe to clean off the flecks of blood, "I told him I'd take away his chance at paradise. I did EXACTLY that."
They drove back to the palace. Late that night Lyssa and Rodrick slipped out and silently removed the two spies then placed them together in a compromised situation that would frowned upon by Islamic law.
The Prince was beside himself with anger the next morning at the discovery and said had they not taken their own lives they most certainly would have to answer to Islamic law about adultery and plotting against the kingdom. Fortunately the location of the terrorist camp was discovered via a map in the guard's pocket.
Rodrick and Lyssa were swimming laps in the palace's pool when the Prince came in.
"Morning Highness," Rodrick said after noticing him.
The Prince nodded, "hello Mr. Mason."
"Ut-oh. I know that vibe. You're stressin' something Highness, " Rodrick remarked, "Is it real bad?"
"You were in the American Navy. A SEAL. Were you not," the Prince asked.
Rodrick shrugged, "sure I was. There's not a lot I talk to you about that, you know how it is."
The Prince sat down on a low stool, "perhaps you could offer some insight. I do have a problem but how to solve it the real question."
"I don't mind giving advice. What's the problem," Rodrick asked.
The Prince told him of all they had discovered. Rodrick frowned and shook his head.
"That's messed up Highness. Bad guys in country, may have local religious support. Infiltration of the palace. Plans to wax Lyssa and your cousin. You got two options. Cowboy up and waste 'em or call in the cavalry," Rodrick summed up, "If it was me; I'd call the cavalry. Ask the U.S. for help."
"what would you do in my place Mrs.Mason," the Prince asked.
"I'd go with that plan. Two reasons. First; it would show future terrorists that Bhomeini is no safe hideaway for them and that you are in charge here," Lyssa answered," and second- it shows the west that you too, have problems with extremists and are willing to ask and provide help when needed. Make the announcement that you and your security found the spies and dealt with them and that you have also called assistance from the U.S. to remove the terrorists they were with from your kingdom. It shows that your people are on top of things and cooperation with the west is beneficial. A good thing for all.
The Prince considered that then nodded to Rodrick, "such a treasure your wife is. Her beauty and grace is only outshined by her wisdom. I'll call your President immediately. Thank you both for your counsel."
Dannigan sat in his office as the late breaking news flashed.
"Today in Bhomeini, a terrorist camp was destroyed at the special Request of the Prince to The President by U.S. Naval forces off the coast. The attack was carried out by Navy SEALS with the permission of the Prince who hailed it, 'A grand collaboration of east and west to route out those who would attack any and all nations that wish to live in peace.' The terrorist group were responsible for the recent upheaval at the Olympics in Portland and numerous other international crimes including car bombings in Dubai, Kuwait and United Arab Emirates along with attacks on seagoing vessels in the gulf that had been attributed to pirates. More information as it is declassified by the Department of Defense."
"They did good over there. Didn't they," Madison asked.
"In plain sight and nobody knows anything they shouldn't," Dannigan answered.
His computer beeped indicacting a conference window had come up.
Dannigan pulled it up and saw Kimberly, "hello Kimberly, thanks for getting in touch."
"Joe told me you wanted to talk," she replied sounding very tired.
Dannigan nodded, "I know this is asking a bit from you but there's no rush on this. Think of it as an ongoing project."
"ok. What is it Major,"Kimberly asked.
"Start a search please. Special forces, Delta, Rangers, SEALs, Marine Recons for anybody that have gender issues. Use facial recognition of their service pictures compared to photos on social sites as well as anything revealed in their psyche evals. Throw in Air Force Para-Rescue as well," Dannigan instructed.
"Major this is about me isn't it. I'm dealing with it. I'll be ok," Kimberly protested.
Dannigan got a serious look, "Lieutenant this is not about you personally. This is about the agency. Lyssa simply can Not be everywhere ALL the time. Also; sometimes she's too famous to go places we need to be going. What works for us sometimes works against. Understand? Yes we could do with another Lyssa for when she retires from the field and before you say it; yes, she will retire one day. We need to be ready for that. We also need a ghost, somebody that move among the agencies. these are must-haves Kimberly, not a personal jab at you. You went in and did a job that you weren't prepared for and I'm very grateful for you. I'm also very worried that you may have problems because of it. This is not cowgirl time. Its honesty time. If you are having problems tell me. Tell Lyssa. Hell, tell Pete, Joe and Rodrick. We'll try to deal with it. You're critical to us Kimberly. Never forget that. Critical as a person, NOT just an asset."
"yes sir Major," Kimberly said a bit bolstered," I'll be ok and if I need to I'll ask the others for help."
Dannigan nodded then closed out the conference.
CHAPTER 3
Madison walked through the airport concourse. Instead of the weekend with Pete either in D.C. or on the island, she'd be spending it with her family for her father's birthday. A weekend of fun and relaxation though not as relaxing as the island. Her family was already asking about her love-life and she was running out of evasions. In no time she was picked up by her younger sister and driven to the family home to be swept into a barrage of hugs.
"So Madi,what's the story on the boyfriend," her elder sister asked as they stood in the kitchen.
Her older sister, pregnant for the third time trying not to look at the glass of wine in Madison's hand.
"Not a big story. I have a boyfriend, his name is Pete and he's a pilot. we met during the christmas holidays and just clicked," Madison explained hoping she wouldn't be pressed further.
"And," her sister prompted.
"he's a great guy. a bit goofy, great sense of humor. Makes me laugh and never asks for money," Madison summed up.
"He lives in D.C.," she asked.
"No,"Madison answered.
"So where does he live? What airline does he work for? Domestic flights or international," she asked further.
"Lindsay! I don't care if you are the leading prosecutor in St.Louis; I'm not under oath or on a witness stand so don't you dare give me the third degree," Madison demanded.
"Was," Lindsay commented.
Madison looked confused,"was what?"
Lindsay sighed, "was the leading prosecutor. When I started showing I had to step down and just do office work. Opposing counsel could contest that my 'current state could be used as a sympathetic gambit to unduly influence juries', so i can't go to court til after the baby."
"Well its for the best, the stress isn't good for the baby anyway," Madison assured her.
"Stuff it. I'm damn good in court and now I'm being forced to take time off," Lindsay grumbled.
"And who's idea was it to get knocked up again," Madison prompted and received a hateful look from Lindsay for it.
"uh-huh. Case closed counsel. You got fucked,"Madison said snarkily.
Lindsay let loose with a peel of laughter while Madison smirked.
"Ok girls, what's going on in here," their mother asked walking in.
"Lindsay is having legal withdrawals and tried to get her fix with me. She dated Bobby for over a year without telling anybody then eloped. She doesn't get to interrogate me," Madison said quickly then slipped out of the room.
"MADISON LUCINDA DIETRICH YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASY," Lindsay yelled after her.
Madison just laughed rushing into the living room.
"Aunt Madi, I need somebody good to go against," her nephew complained.
Madison crouched down," against in what kiddo?"
"Apache Strike," he explained," its a helicopter game. You fly around and blow up the bad guys. I beat everybody I go up against."
"Sounds like bragging there kiddo," Madison cautioned.
"You're smart and know lots of people. can you find me somebody," he asked.
Madison took out her phone and called the hangar, "Hey; just the person I needed. ever hear of an online game called Apache Strike? Look for call-sign: St.Louis BadBoy. Ok, thanks."
After hanging up she nodded to the screen and a moment later a message appeared to the boy, "Come and get me. IF you can, BlackStarr."
"Hmmph. a call-sign like that, he won't last long. sorry aunt Madi but your friend is gonna eat missiles," the boy commented.
Madison just smiled and watched over his shoulder as he engaged then soon found himself in the fight of his life with the opposing player.
"WHOA! this guy's good! I can't shake 'im aunt Madi. I can't shake 'im! where'd you find him," he asked trying to shake off the targeting lock that stayed steady.
Finally he lost to a direct missile hit after suffering numerous hits from the chain-gun and crashed.
"i can't believe it! I got nailed,"he spouted.
His jaw dropped when the message came across, "Madison; As next of kin. You are being notified of the untimely demise of BadBoy. Goodnight, BlackStarr."
"Important lesson hotshot; never brag. Just when you think you're the best, somebody comes along to prove you aren't. Humility is good character," she chided him.
"Aunt Madi, just who was that guy," he asked in awe.
"Let's just say he does that professionally," she said airily.
"Is he the best," the boy asked.
"He'd never claim it hotshot. Even he got shot down once," Madison said hugging him," now go get washed up for dinner."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for waxing that kid like that Star," Pete commented.
"He'd have never won. I consulted during its creation. Kid's too cocky anyway. I was that way once," LoneStar replied from within the helmet.
"Rod just called in. They're on their way back. He said Lyssa's worried about Kim," Pete said leaning back in the chair.
LoneStar's opaque visor hid his expression, "she'll be fine. Lyssa's directions for when we got back helped alot more than you think."
"Yeah, I didn't get that though. Burning and melting and all that plus a hose down? Right there on the tarmac? How does that help," Pete asked.
"Its purging. Nothing remains to remind her of that time and she washed it all away so it wouldn't 'taint' our home. Get it now," LoneStar asked.
"Oh. Ok,I see what you mean. No idea if it works but ok," Pete shrugged.
"I wasn't in there with her so I'm not a reminder either. Its that whole displacement thing. Psycho-babble trying to explain how screwed up people can move past it,"LoneStar explained.
Pete sat for a moment then asked, "does it really work?"
LoneStar stood and stared out the window down to the beach, "Kim called Paul back didn't she? Pete I don't do psy-ops. I fly around and make things go away. Up-close and in the face isn't my thing. It's Lyssa and Rodrick's. From what I been told she knows all about handling this sort of thing. I do what I can but during the night I wake up screaming too, so I'm no authority."
Pete had no reply to that so got up and walked out leaving LoneStar alone to look out to the beach where Kimberly watched Warlock swim in the surf. LoneStar couldn't wrap his head around it. Even the dog was severely damaged by combat but yet they all still could function independently and as a collective. A unit. A team. Somehow they all found a way to belong to each other when nobody else could deal with them.
Paul was a Mastermind if there ever was one Joe admitted to himself. Only he had the courage to go see their father. It wouldn't be easy, everybody including the General believed him dead. The only one knowing the truth was Paul. The half brother who'd kept him hidden all these years after the crash. Hidden and working, because Joseph LoneStar Landon had demanded it as the illegitimate brother.
CHAPTER 4
Madison had spent all day at the restaurant with her brother decorating for their father's birthday and all was perfect. A big banner proclaimed 'Happy 63rd Birthday!!!!' They both hurried back and got changed into suitable party-wear. Madison had packed the sexy black dress Lyssa had given her for her own birthday and thought it perfect.
Practically in convoy they all went back to the restaurant and ushered their patriarch inside to be surprised.
The staff sang out in unison, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!"
Ralph chuckled and smiled as he took a seat, "well you all certainly put one over on the ol' man this time. thanks kids."
One by one they all came in closer and hugged him. Dinner was lively with talk of previous birthday plans gone awry due to him finding out and discarded plans this time because he had ferreted the information. Finally the staff brought out the cake with its many candles as they sang their own birthday anthem.
"I'd make a wish before putting out this wildfire but all my wishes are here; all the kids and grandkids. Having you all with me any day is a birthday present to me," Ralph said proudly.
He then blew out the candles except one that immediately flared back to life. Knowing his son's habit of pranks he wet his fingertips and pinched the wick snuffing the candle out amid laughter then tossed the trick candle at him laughing himself. The first piece of cake was just cut when a waitress screamed. The whole of the Dietrich family turned to see three men in black rush through the dining room brandishing assault rifles.
"WALLETS! PURSES! JEWELRY! NOW," one of them bellowed.
"We'll do what you say, just don't hurt anybody," Lindsay said calmly and taking off her earrings one handed, holding the other up to show she would comply.
"You'll do what we say or we'll start with the kids, fuckin' cow," one of the gunmen snarled and rammed the butt of the rifle to the side of her head.
Madison reached behind her to her purse and felt the pistol inside. Her mind leaped to light-speed as she brought it out snapping down the safety lever and jerked it in front of her, flash-sighting down the slide and squeezed the trigger. The automatic tried to jump in her hand but Madison held it steady and pulled the trigger quickly and sent a second round to follow the first, impacting center of the man's chest.
As the other two began to turn she side-stepped right and tracked to the one on her left. His head passed into her frame and she double-tapped again just as Lyssa and Rodrick had schooled her. Even though her heart was racing Madison remembered to slowly take steady breaths and keep her eyes moving more than her head.
The third gunner grabbed a nearby waitress and held her slightly in front of him and began screaming, "drop it bitch or I'll rip her apart!"
Madison said nothing but sighted down the slide again.
Lyssa's voice echoed in her mind, 'never back down. Give up your gun and you forfeit all lives that hang in the balance. Especially your own. Always take the shot. Be patient. Be silent. Professionals don't talk, they do. Sight, acquire and fire. Nothing else. Bad guys down or good guys down. That's all that matters."
Madison kept taking the steady measured breaths ignoring all else but the gun in front of her and when he leaned slightly to the right to yell at her again she squeezed the trigger. Time dragged as the bullet slammed in to his face then a second as he began to fall backward.
Quickly Madison dove for her purse and the spare magazine inside and reloaded as she searched carefully. Kicking away the guns then jamming her heel at the necks of the downed men while she kept looking around for any other threats. Reality caught up with her as she heard the first of sirens approaching. Madison grabbed for her cellphone and hit the speed dial.
Dannigan answered on the first ring, "Yes?"
"I'm in trouble. I just shot three guys. what do I do now," she asked now starting to panic.
"Say absolutely nothing to anybody do you understand. I'll take care of it," Dannigan answered," hang up, give the cops the gun and behave your self but say nothing. You have the right to remain silent and you will do so. I'll get this taken care of Madison. don't worry."
Madison hung up and deleted the call log and slipped the phone back into her purse just as the officers rushed in.
"FREEZE! DROP THE GUN," one demanded.
Madison slowly removed the magazine then set it and the pistol on a table moving slow and raised her hands.
Very calmly Madison said, "My ID is in my purse right there. I believe I have the right to remain silent."
Despite the protests of the unsteady Lindsay the officers handcuffed Madison and read her rights to her then took her, the pistol and magazines and her purse out to the patrol cars.
Dannigan opened the file on his computer and quickly launched the application. Suddenly Madison's file came up and was backdated to being in the service of the National Security Agency. Authorization to carry concealed weapons and not be detained or questioned due to the sensitive nature of her assignments where added by *Security Finding 137: Non-Official Cover agent in distress has the authority to utilize lethal measures to counter any threats to safety of the agent regardless of disposition, including leaves of medical and personal nature. He sat waiting for the inquiry to come through the National Criminal Information Center.
Twenty minutes later it did. Her fingerprints and name came through. He sent the file back along with the orders for all ballistic data to be forwarded to him. within minutes the message came back to him that all evidence relating to Madison Lucinda Dietrich would be sent and her release was being effected immediately, no charges were being pursued in the matter. He then set the timer on the data for it to disappear within sixteen hours. Madison would be on her way back to D.C. by then.
Lindsay Osgood all but shrieked at the officer, "I demand to see my sister this minute!"
"I'm sorry counselor but I can't let you go into the processing area," The old officer stated," and as part of the District Attorney's office you know that."
"Don't you tell me what I know and don't know Sergeant," Lindsay continued but was cut off in mid-sentence.
Madison was being let out of the doorway by the watch commander.
"Our apologies Ma'am for any inconvenience. Please forgive the misunderstanding," he said.
"Hopefully the rest of your day will be not as eventful Sir," Madison replied then stepped out.
"Counselor. Yelling and screaming at my officers doesn't do you any good in this department. Especially on my watch! I won't have that kind of abuse from the citizenry and I definitely will NOT have it from the D.A.'s office am I quite clear? Now I suggest you go home and put some ice on that nasty bruise forming before your eye swells shut. Agent Dietrich is not being charged nor detained any further in this matter and is being released with the department's apologies," the Captain added with a nod to Madison.
"Thank you Sir. Surely you understand how hormonal women can get. We'll not badger your department about this misunderstanding," Madison smiled and began trying to herd her older sister out.
when Lindsay attempted to turn around to say something Madison roughly turned her back to the door, "We're going HOME Lindsay."
"When I get to work monday morning I'm gonna have those two idiotic patrolmen's badges on my desk by. WHOA! 'Agent Dietrich?' What'd he mean by 'Agent Dietrich'? Start talking Madison, cops don't like people that are addressed by 'Agent' and he was all cookies and cream to you. Spill it. what's going on," Lindsay blurted.
"I have a job in Washington and I like it a lot. that's it,"Madison replied.
Lindsay glared at her younger sibling, "Bullshit! Now what the hell is going on? You carry a gun and looks like you're damn good at it and nobody, I mean NOBODY, gets out of lock up in twenty minutes."
"I have a job in Washington and I like it a lot. That's it. That's all you get. If you don't like it I can pull over and get out. I have a flight first thing in the morning, I'll stay at a hotel tonight If that's the way it has to be," Madison said flatly.
Lindsay reversed and tried a different tact, "Madi. C'mon; its ME. We've always kept each others secrets. you can tell me," she said trying to sound sweet.
"Lying shit. You ratted me out to anybody and everybody every chance you got," Madison said flatly.
Madison immediately pulled the SUV over, got out and began walking away.
Lindsay got behind the wheel and pulled up beside her, "Don't you walk away Madison! You tell me what's going on now! I can drive faster than you can WALK!"
Madison didn't break her step, just pulled out the pistol again and shot out the front tire, "not now you can't."
Lindsay began cursing louder as Madison walked further away then hailed a passing cab and left. At her parent's house she paid the fare with a tip to wait while she went in and retrieved her luggage. She didn't even get to the front door when it was filled with the imposing figure of her father.
"Young lady you have some explaining to do. Lindsay called and said you shot out her tire and left her on the side of the road," he said.
"I'm leaving. I'm going back to Washington. Lindsay needs to learn she can't bully everybody, least of all, me anymore. I'm sorry your birthday was ruined daddy but I have to go," Madison apologized.
"what do you mean 'bully'," he asked hotly.
Madison squared her shoulders and looked up at him, "the police let me go and apologized for the misunderstanding. Yes, my job got things moving faster than normal. Lindsay started demanding answers about that and its not any of her business but does that stop her? No....she just starts yelling and screaming at me. We're not kids anymore and I don't have to put up with it. I have a taxi waiting, I want to get my things and go."
Ralph Dietrich looked at her intently, "I was a fleet recon marine. You can trust me to answer one simple question. Do you work for an Agency?"
"Yes," Madison answered.
Ralph nodded, "Good enough for me. Stay or go if you want, I'll deal with your sister."
He stepped out and went to his car then left. Madison went inside, grabbed her suitcase and returned to the taxi. He took her to a motel. She walked across to a small store and bought a new purse then took a shower and cleaned the gun and hid it as she had been taught then called another taxi and checked out.
"The airport please," She told the driver.
"yes Ma'am," the driver then headed for the airport.
At the ticket counter she was able to exchange her ticket for a flight leaving in a hour as Dannigan had placed her on a priority list. Five hours later she walked into her apartment and saw several messages on her answering machine. similar to the ones on her cellphone voicemail from her sister ranting and raving. It was in the shower that she finally broke. As the water streamed down she sank to the floor and began crying.
Book 34 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Kimberly is still struggling with recent events. and she's not the only one. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be |
CHAPTER 1
Kimberly sat as if looking out the window but not seeing the vista outside it. Inside her mind was far away, a small room that reeked of blood and fear. Screaming echoed in her mind. She nearly jumped out of the chair when the black belgian shepherd barked. She looked over and saw Warlock standing at the window looking up wagging his tail. That was when she heard the sound of the jet on final approach.
"Go ahead its Lyssa," she said in German.
Warlock woofed and bolted out of the office. Kimberly herself walked out to the tarmac and waited as the Gulfstream parked in front of the hangers. The door opened and stairs lowered as the plane powered down then Lyssa and Rodrick walked out. As hard pressed as she was not to, Kimberly still smiled as Warlock ran up to Lyssa and barked a greeting.
"Hey Kim," Lyssa said as she loaded Rodrick's and her own suitcases into the cart.
Kimberly knew the casual greeting was anything but and sat in the cart with Lyssa, "Welcome home. Cool job in Bhomeini."
Lyssa drove toward the house with Warlock running along side, "just another day on the job Kim. Brought you a souvenir and a box of dates."
Once inside, Lyssa began sorting the clothing to be cleaned with Kimberly's help as Warlock laid on the balcony in the shade. After starting the first load to wash Lyssa had Kimberly sit down in a chair facing her on the pool patio and handed her a glass of wine. Kimberly sat quietly and soon felt Lyssa's intent gaze focused on her. Even Warlock felt something and laid down beside Lyssa's chair looking at Kimberly with his dark eyes.
After a couple of minutes under the scrutiny Kimberly finally spoke.
"Am I supposed to talk," Kimberly asked
Lyssa casually answered, "cliche; nice. You're the one with the thousand yard stare. Stay in that room forever or walk out anytime you like."
"Like the basement," Kimberly asked.
Lyssa didn't flinch at the mentioning of it, "yes."
Kimberly sighed.
Lyssa's steel grey eyes bore down on Kimberly, "I could have stayed in that basement. beside the pit. The building where I spent a week tied to a chair. There are many places I could have stayed Kim. Things I've seen. Things I've done."
Kimberly looked around idly then back to Lyssa, "I'd heard it was horrible. The chemical. the torture. I thought I could handle it."
"Who says you didn't,"Lyssa asked.
Kimberly looked at her, "Look at me Lyss. I'm a fucking mess. I go back there so much during the day and its even worse at night. If Joe isn't waking me up, I'm waking him. Neither of us are sleeping worth a shit anymore."
"The fact that you're having problems means that you're still with us Kimberly. I'd be worried if you weren't having problems. And since you are having problems, I'll help you solve them. I can't do it all but I can help you help yourself," Lyssa said softly
Absently Lyssa began running the pad of her finger along the rim of the wine goblet, soon it began to hum.
"I've always dreamed of living somewhere like here. the sound of the ocean close by but not roaring. Breezes that are just cool enough to take away the sting of the sun while the palms sway gently," Lyssa said softly as the glass sang at the same volume.
a steady ebb and flow of the single note as she continued, "walking along the water's edge on the damp sand just out of the waves. Brilliant purple, red and gold sunsets in the cobalt blue sky. Crisp white light of the moon rising. A true home. Where nothing bad can touch you. You can hide away from it all there, can't you?"
Sleepily Kimberly answered,"yes. a place to hide from everything bad and it can't touch me."
Lyssa slowed down softening the song of the glass, "and you can go anywhere ad see anything. relive any experience without it hurting you. You can put it back where it belongs, far away."
Kimberly nodded gently, "far away."
"Like that room at Quantico. Its so far away. You've come all the way home. You can't smell it here; blood, fear, burnt gunpowder. Its so far away you can't hear the cries, the screams, the pleading. It happened there. then. but you're here. Now. So far away from it. The smell of the salty sea. The sighing of the wind. creaking of the trees," Lyssa told her through the singing of the glass.
Kimberly echoed dreamily, "home. the sea. the trees. the wind. Joe."
Lyssa softened the drawn out note more," yes. Home. with Joe. He holds you to make it all go away. Warlock chases anything wrong. Its all so far away Kimberly. Far away from home. Home where it can't be heard. Can't smelled. Can't touch you. Only if you want to go there can you hear and smell that place and all the bad things."
"Will this work,"LoneStar asked Rodrick in the kitchen as they quietly tried to hear Lyssa's soft voice.
"I don't know Star. *This is the quick way and it barely works less than a quarter of the time," Rodrick answered.
His opaque visor hiding his face as he turned to face the ex-SEAL, "Did it work for Lyssa?"
Rodrick sighed, "nothing works for her. She has to work it out herself. Lyssa was DemonWraith. They can't be hypnotically influenced, firstly they have to have a natural resistance and then trained to repress it further. Hardening. That I do know. Now I've heard other stories about some of the training they go through. Hell, I heard they even are taught how to defend against those psychics."
"What do you mean," LoneStar asked.
"Its no secret the CIA uses remote viewers, but rumor has it they also have telepaths or empaths or something like. People that can read your feelings or thoughts from inside your head. Word has it DemonWraiths are trained to counter that kind of interrogation too but Lyssa won't say and I'm not asking. All Operators go through POW training but DemonWraiths don't simulate. They really lay into them. harder than CIA NOC agents," Rodrick explained.
"I hope it works," LoneStar replied.
Rodrick looked out to the patio,"If it don't then we're not any worse off than before. This ain't an overnight thing. It'll take a while."
LoneStar nodded as Lyssa quietly walked in with Warlock following her.
"She's asleep for now but she'll awake in a little while by Warlock. She needs the rest," Lyssa said setting the empty wine glasses on the counter.
LoneStar turned to Lyssa, "What happens if somebody tried to hypnotize you?"
"Full cataclysmic memory back-lash," Lyssa answered.
When he stayed silent she elaborated, "I remember everything in full startling detail. All of my life. Including the person trying to hypnotize me and how. Before I kill them. Before you ask; yes. Its horrible."
LoneStar nodded.
"Warlock," Lyssa said then finished in german,"wake up Kim. go boy."
The belgian shepherd trotted back outside and laid his head in Kimberly's lap then woofed. He then nudged her with his muzzle and woofed again. Kimberly stirred then slowly opened her eyes.
"Did I fall asleep,"she asked the dog.
He stepped away then looked back and woofed again.
"I guess so. I'm coming," she commented then followed him back inside.
"Sorry I fell asleep Lyssa. I need to get back to the office, I have a search running," Kimberly said.
"Ok Kim. Call us if you need anything," Rodrick answered then gave her a hug.
LoneStar followed her out leaving Lyssa and Rodrick alone as Warlock looked from his bowl to Lyssa. She poured a measured amount of the kibble into it then began making their dinner.
CHAPTER 2
Dannigan stood looking out the window. The morning was late and still no Madison. This was the third day she hadn't shown up without a call. He reached into the desk and grabbed Homeland Security credentials then left. Within half an hour he was walking up to the door. Gently he tested the knob and found it locked. A quick glance assured him privacy then he took out the lock-gun and used it to throw the locks and walked inside.
Madison sat in the middle of the bed, resting her chin on her knees. She looked as if she'd not slept in a week even though the chemise suggested otherwise. Finally she looked over to him with frightened eyes.
"You want to tell me what this is all about? The three idiots you had to shoot or the snit your sister threw because you won't tell her who you work for and what you do," he asked.
"What was it I did that was so wrong Major," Madison asked.
Dannigan locked eyes with her,"nothing. Absolutely nothing. From what I understand she has a problem respecting boundaries. You set a boundary and she doesn't want to accept it. That's her problem, not yours."
The phone rang and they both listened as her sister again berated her loudly over the answering machine. Dannigan went out to it and replayed all the messages. There were none other than the several from her sister of the same nature. Dannigan took the cassette, pocketed it and placed in another. He then set up his laptop and hacked into the phone company and changed her number as well as her cellphone after downloading the voice-mails.
"Pull it together Madison. There's work to be done and you're the one to do it. I couldn't even find the coffee cups while you've been out," he said gaining a feeble smile from her.
"I'll come in tomorrow sir," Madison sputtered with a laugh.
"You know this ol' man; totally screwed if some joker takes the L and R letters out of my shoes," he commented.
Madison gave him an honest laugh, "Super-spook would forget how to walk straight. Senile ol' codger."
"I resent that allegation. Forward! March! 1,2,3,4," Dannigan barked then began walking backwards.
Madison laughed whole-heartedly as the door closed behind him. The benefit of being with such a small agency, they did all they could to look after their own.
A month later and much had improved. Lyssa looked over Kimberly's shoulder.
"So what's this," Lyssa asked
"A possible replacement for you. I'm running facial recognition between the transgender sites and service record photos," Kimberly answered.
"that's slick. anything yet," Lyssa commented.
Kimberly shook her head," no but this will take time Lyssa. Not a lot are so open. they know about what happened with me and are going deeper into the closet. CID and NCIS are gonna do all they can not to get caught with their pants around their ankles again."
Thirty minutes later as Lyssa confirmed that she'd be in Milan for a fall/winter show Kimberly's computer beeped. Lyssa finished the call as Kimberly waved her over.
"What's up,"Lyssa asked.
Kimberly stared intently at the screen, "image was uploaded two years ago. Confirmed though by forty facial points."
"hello there Master Sergeant David Sunders," Lyssa commented, "good face. what is there to know about our lovely possible candidate."
Kimberly pulled up the service file and began reading, "enlisted at eighteen Air force, 12 years. ParaRescue for six, cross-trained and transferred into Military Police. done some undercover work; a drug ring and thefts. One murder investigation. Smuggling. Speaks fluent german, japanese, french and spanish. rated to fly rotorcraft; UH-60 and UH-1."
"Smackhawks and slicks," Lyssa commented using the informal nicknames for the Blackhawk and the old huey helicopters.
"A good review from the FBI on a joint case. Apparently she does play well with others," Kimberly mentioned," no other direct inter-agency tasking. Pretty much stays within the Air force community."
Lyssa said nothing as she read the comments in the case file by the FBI proclaiming that the Sergeant had been critical to the investigation, citing success had only come from his expertise and relentless dedication.
"Smile warmly and carry a big fucking gun,"Lyssa commented distractedly making Kimberly chuckle to herself, "earmark this one and send it to the Major. He has the final say so, but I think we found ourselves a ghost."
Kimberly nodded and made up the packet and sent it to Dannigan.
Rodrick sat in the chair and worked the controls, "wow flys like a dream Star. the fly-by-wire is perfect."
"Its carrying four Hellfires, two Sidewinders and two thousand rounds of 7.62 on a disintegrating belt," LoneStar answered in his customary cold voice.
"Damn. without the IFF this thing's invisible," Pete commented.
The masterstroke had been Pete's camouflage. It was select-able, in the mission menu you could select the outward appearance. Desert, polar, woods/jungle and night were the options of the upper shell and the bottom shell would be three shades of blue or full black.
"These things will eat Predators and GlobalHawks for lunch. Can midair refuel or swing its wings back to land inside a C-130 for re-arming/ re-fitting," LoneStar said with a bit of satisfaction.
"I'll get Paul to set up a meeting with the DARPA guys. The Hair Farce will love these," Rodrick said, "Navy will too."
"make it ten mill for the aircraft and fifteen for the control system. A bargain for them considering we did all the hard work. They'll probably contract it out to Boeing or Lockheed," LoneStar remarked.
"Sounds good to me,"Pete stated.
"About right. Twenty-five for the package," Rodrick agreed as he brought the aircraft in and landed it.
After shutting it down they watched Eddie store the drone in the hangar with its mate then walked up to the office.
"Hey girls; perfect flight. what you two working on," Pete said.
Lyssa looked back, "Kimberly found us a potential ghost and then this came up."
"oh? whatcha got Kim," Rodrick asked
The ex-SEAL looked over Kimberly's other shoulder along with Pete and LoneStar.
"Nothing concrete but the subtle signs are there for one Lieutenant Erick Kohler, U.S. Naval Intelligence. Cryptography, image analysis, counter-cyberwarfare. Masters degree in computers. Bachelors in math, cryptography specific," Kimberly listed.
Pete looked hard at the photo," ok. Pardon my ignorance but he doesn't look real girly to me and then there's the question of 'ok...looks great on paper but can they hump through the boonies full tilt boogie like our own resident SuperChick'. I really don't see that in the resume."
Lyssa chuckled, "Well Pete looking girly when you weren't born one is a real to-do and as for that compliment, thank you. This one wouldn't be romping through the bush unless we were all seriously screwed. More along the lines of being here helping Kim or in D.C. with Madison and the Major."
All three of the men in unison, "OH ok."
Lyssa and Kimberly laughed.
"You mentioned subtle signs. What are they Lyssa," LoneStar asked.
"During a routine Psyche Eval the examiner thought there was a misunderstanding of a question so three months later the evaluation was done again and two questions were hinky. The same one from previous and another one. Both were answered in a fashion consistent with a female answer. and also there's this," Kimberly pulled up several photos of halloween parties featuring Kohler in female attire.
"I can tell the difference between make-up done by somebody else or themselves. She has a skilled hand and then there's the fact that a guy doesn't go out and wear three pairs of four and a half inch stilettos just for a one-time thing. and a couple other things that only somebody like Kimberly or myself would know," Lyssa said with a chuckle.
"The earrings. They're the wire kind and not a set with the necklace in each. They're different and the rings too. Blingie but not over the top," Rodrick said staring closely, "Lyssa and Kimberly mix and match a lot of their jewelry. That's a woman thing."
"Bonus points to the hubby! Yes," Lyssa commented, "and the hair. Its a wig yes but looks natural and is closely the same color as the real hair. by the way. these pictures are from high school and college, Berkley. No eastern colleges applied for. Berkley only."
LoneStar surmised, "ok; grew up in Indiana and bails all the way to the west coast specifically to go to Berkley. You think he or rather she chose Berkley specifically to be close to the free atmosphere of San Francisco?"
"That's possible but we don't know for sure. I can't find anymore photos of this nature online anywhere," Kimberly answered.
"So its off to San Diego for the super spook," Pete asked.
"Actually no, this is one for Kimberly or myself," Lyssa corrected.
When he looked back puzzled Kimberly clarified, "the last thing we want to do is blow our covers and we don't want her to think that we're out to slam dunk her either. for now we may be the only ones that know the truth. if it is truth. Lyssa can't go but I can."
"ok so what's the plan,"Rodrick asked.
"I start tracking the cellphones to see where they go and then using a worm determine what web content they get into. If the information I get is consistent with what we think then we get a green light to go further," Kimberly summed up.
"sounds like a well thought plan," Dannigan said from a small computer window.
Kimberly pulled up the window larger, "Its what we have to go on right now Major. its 'wait and see' until I get more."
Dannigan nodded, "That's about it Kimberly. As much as we all hate waiting, that's the name of the game for now. Good work. anything else come up?"
Rodrick answered, "The drones are ready Paul, can you get us hooked up with the DARPA people?"
Dannigan could be seen writing that down, "no problem. Don't worry about a formal presentation. I'll get you the right guys down there to check it out."
"Good, I hate power-point," LoneStar grumbled.
"that's for admin types. I'll get engineers down there for you,"Dannigan replied.
Rodrick said, "ok Paul. thanks, that's it for me."
Dannigan nodded then closed out his window.
CHAPTER 3
Kimberly sat at the table sipping a chardonnay and watching the table between her's and the stage. Suddenly the irony hit her and she smiled. Had it been so long ago that it was her being watched and Dannigan doing the watching? the thought of that night made her slowly look closer at the crowd. None of the men or women looked military in bearing. She did glimpse a couple of concealed pistols, the owners of which struck her more as undercover police than NCIS agents or JAG investigators. She didn't see any that stood out and no one really felt out of place to her.
Carefully Kimberly slipped the microdot from her purse then stood up and wandered towards the ladies' room slipping the small device into a blonde's open purse. After a quick check of her make-up in the restroom mirror Kimberly made her way out to the silver Lincoln Navigator that LoneStar sat in the driver's seat of waiting. An hour later they saw the blonde and her companion leave and walk across the street to a parked toyota and pull out.
Slowly and carefully LoneStar followed them as he and Kimberly listened to the conversation inside via the microdot. Three blocks down things went south in a major way, their target got carjacked of all things.
"stay on the car Joe. I have an idea," Kimberly said quickly.
Lonestar murmured, "no sweat."
Within minutes after leading them on a merry chase the car pulled in behind a closed convenience store. LoneStar and Kimberly slipped up along the sides with their pistols draw and before the two would be car thieves knew they were there found themselves with muzzles pressed to their heads.
"You've been very very bad boys. The question remains is whatever shall we do with you," Kimberly said in a mock drawl.
"Fuck it. I say blast 'em," came the slightly muffled reply from LoneStar.
"Ah shit man! We din hurt nobody. Its just a car man," the driver said.
"Out. NOW," LoneStar ordered.
Slowly the two young men got out with their hands held up.
LoneStar stood in front of them, "Drop the iron...both of you."
they reached down into the fronts of their pants and dropped the pistols on the ground.
"Back to back,"Kimberly instructed.
She then zip-tied their wrists together along with their ankles and the guns as well after unloading them.
"I'll drive the car and meet me at the condo," Kimberly said.
LoneStar nodded and after she pulled away he glared down at the two youths.
"Gonna smoke us now, Hardcore," one asked.
"I'll do you a favor. I'll have the cops come pick you up and take you to jail,"LoneStar said.
"that's a favor," one scoffed.
"Either that or you can be pretty. Like me," He hissed then raised his helmet.
"Oh FUCK MAN! DON'T LOOK! Take us to jail man! TAKE US T' FUCKIN' JAIL," the other hollered trying to forget the face.
LoneStar pulled the helmet back on and tapped the bluetooth connection, He dialed the sheriff's department and reported in then left.
Lyssa read the file again. Rangers. Special Forces. Now pulling a crap duty assignment back at Bragg. Demos and indoctrination. Translation: Todd Dunkirk was on somebody's shitlist. The psyche evals were conspicuously missing. Off post activity was non-existent for the past five months. and the pay grade from Sergeant First Class to Staff Sergeant was a dead give-away. A company level Article-15. This was an interesting development. His superiors were hiding an infraction and punishment.
Kimberly's system had gotten her the bank statements. Rent was being paid to a place in Charleston. Kimberly had also found out the exact unit by the utilities. A burn phone was also registered to the location. a pre-paid credit card as well with several interesting purchases tracing back to transgender related vendors. That answered that. All that was left was for him to be caught compromised and it would all be over with except for the shouting.
"I know that look in your eyes," Rodrick drawled from his desk looking at her, "somebody, that would be you, thinks that a field trip should be undertaken by a certain party, that would be us, to go do a bit of snoopin into somebody's business, that would be him, that a whole lotta people, that would be them, don't want out in the open."
Lyssa swiveled the chair around and gave him a 'come hither' look and purred, "mmmm. Such a naughty suggestion. You talked me into it."
"Rather talk you into something else that would definitely be much more fun. Wouldn't have to file a flight plan to get there either," Rodrick leered.
Lyssa stood up and walked slowly over to his desk with an exaggerated swing to her hips, "don't you mean 'we wouldn't have to go anywhere at all' baby?"
"damn. Ya read my mind," Rodrick growled pulling her closer then leaning Lyssa back onto the desk.
"Oh HELL NO," Pete exclaimed walking in, "I thought there was a strict 'no fuck' policy here in the office."
Lyssa laughed, "so much for that. Gotta take me to North Carolina instead."
Rodrick gave Pete a hateful look, "why don't you take a fucking hang-glider to Antarctica. No rush on the return."
"Hold your breath waiting. Asshole," Pete grumbled.
Pete looked over at Lyssa's computer screen, "so what's the story? found another candidate?"
Lyssa walked back over, "yeah. deal is though, he. Or rather, she, is on the shitlist. If what I'm reading between the lines is right, the battalion may already know about the extra-curricular activities. that makes things a bit more touchy."
"how touchy," Rodrick asked.
"Well, restricted to post and more than likely restricted to barracks when off duty and just to make sure boredom doesn't rear its ugly head; extra duty," Lyssa said.
"how you going to get some private time then," Pete asked.
Lyssa pointed to the training schedule, "night after tomorrow. There's a demonstration of night ops for the cherries. We'll slip into the boonies and grab some quality time. After a quick look-see at the apartment kept in Charleston."
Rodrick stood up and picked Lyssa up and began carrying her over his shoulder.
She giggled, "um. Guess we'll go over specifics later. night Pete!"
Pete shook his head as they left to go back to their house.
Dannigan walked up to the door of the trailer and knocked. A moment later it opened and warily the person looked out.
She asked, "uh. Can I help you?"
Dannigan casually replied, "Good evening Master Sergeant Sunders."
David tried not to show the panic that now raced through himself, "I'm undercover doing surveillance."
"We both know that you're on five days leave Sunders and this is day two," Dannigan stated.
Sunders steeped back and gestured for Dannigan to come in. Dannigan looked around once he was inside.
"Nice place," Dannigan commented.
"Thank you, why don't we fore-go the usual banter and get to the chase; who are you and what do you want," David asked.
"Call me Dannigan. Major Dannigan and quite simply; I want you to work for me," Dannigan answered.
"Doing what," David asked.
"More of what you do now plus a whole lot more. You could say that I'm in the resolution business," Dannigan said absently.
David fixed him with a stare, "and just what exactly do you resolve Major Dannigan?"
Dannigan didn't blink, "covert action. wanna know more, have to sign up."
"And you wouldn't have a problem with my; off-time activities,"David asked.
"Actually more along the lines of; how about going from 'sometimes' to full-time," Dannigan said.
David shook his head, "no way would any agency go for it."
"We do. I won't beat around the bush. Defecate or evacuate the facility, here's the brass ring. Take it or whine forever and maybe you can keep all this a secret til you ETS," Dannigan said flatly.
David glared, "that a threat?"
Dannigan leaned forward and stared level, "I don't need to threaten. For the past year there's been a serious uptick in the washing out of transgenders in the services. I helped one reclaim her life. You can join in or not. Its up to you. Two months left of service unless you re-up."
Dannigan held out a card, "you can live on your own terms and still do what you're good at and become better. or you can waste away."
David watched as Dannigan walked out and left. the card had only a phone number. No name or agency, just the number.
CHAPTER 4
Erick walked in to a ringing phone after digging out the hidden spare key.
"Yes," he asked then noticed the caller ID.
It was his own cellphone. The cellphone that had been in his purse. in the car. that had been stolen at gunpoint.
"Good evening. Would you please come back downstairs," a casual voice asked, "no need to change, you're fine as is. Lieutenant Kohler."
Erick closed his eyes and slowly hung up the phone. the big secret was out. His career was toast. Slowly he walked back to the elevator and rode down. Outside the lobby he saw a woman leaning nonchalantly against the car. Strawberry blonde and looking non-plussed. When he got closer she turned and
She smiled and said, "Hi there. I'd ask how you are but we both know that your otherwise nice night out went to shit twenty minutes ago. How about instead I'll ask if you'd like some good news."
Erick sighed, "you know I'm an officer in the navy and can be all but keel-hauled for what I'm doing right now. What's good about that?"
"Relax sailor. We're not gonna slam dunk your career," a muffled voice said from behind him.
Erick whirled and came face to helmeted face with a man that was completely covered in black flightgear and a helmet with the opaque visor down.
"who are you people," he asked warily.
"We're the ones that can offer you your lifelong dream. If you're interested," The strawberry blonde answered.
"And what pray tell is that," he asked pointedly.
The helmeted man answered, "to be able to do what you do so well, as the person you should have been all along."
"you can't be serious," Erick said flatly.
"We are. you interested," the woman asked.
Erick decided that he'd play along, "ok, let's say I am. What happens?"
"the hard part," she replied, "you leave everything behind. it all gets packed away and stored. No contact with anybody from this life ever again. Friends, family, service contacts. nobody."
"Sheep-dipped. that what you clandestine types call it right," Erick asked.
"CIA and DIA sheep-dip. We go beyond that," the man answered.
Erick thought for a moment then asked, "how far?"
"We're both buried in Arlington if that gives you an inkling," the woman answered.
"And I bet your funerals were very heart-breaking," Erick said sarcastically.
"We weren't invited," the man answered.
Erick couldn't help it and laughed at that. The woman stepped forward and held out a card. It was blank except for a phone number on it.
"Think about it Lieutenant. Call the number and ask for Major Dannigan. Good luck," she said.
They both began walking away.
"Question," Erick said then continued when they turned to listen,"what about changing me, is it on the table?"
"Kohler you were approached specifically because you want to change," the man said.
"For some its a pre-requisite," the woman added.
"ok....I'll take the deal," Erick answered.
"Call him up and get the ball rolling. My name's Kimberly," Kimberly answered.
LoneStar looped an arm around her waist and together they walked around the corner and were gone. Erick called his friend and told him the car had been returned then went back up to the apartment to make another call to the mysterious number.
Todd Dunkirk slowly stalked through the woods. The candidates were going to get a taste of being in group. All they had to do was make it to the parade ground on the other side of the woods. It sounded much easier than it was. He'd already located ten and was closing in on a group of three. Strangely there came some muffled noises directly ahead. two minutes later he located the source. seven candidates tied ankle and wrist with their own bootlaces.
'Ok,' he thought to himself, 'somebody else is in on the party apparently. Probably some Delta got bored.'
Fifteen minutes later he found another small group of four the same way. quietly he moved on until he reached a cluster of rocks by a stream and stood stock-still. A blonde woman in a form fitted black bodysuit and a man in black BDU's sat on one of the rocks apparently waiting for somebody. Both had their faces streaked with combat paint.
"gonna make us wait all night Dunkirk or you want to take advantage of the five minutes of free talk time," the man asked.
"oh I think he wants the free time. All that restriction and extra duty have to be driving him stir crazy," the woman commented.
Todd slowly approached, "ok. What's the story with you two?"
"We came to talk to you because you're on somebody's shitlist big-time and you can expect to be FUBAR anytime now," the man drawled.
"You a Delta or somethin," Todd asked.
"Nah. I used to be a SEAL. I'm Rodrick," Rodrick answered.
"Just think of us as your possible fairy god-parents," the woman said.
"I'm listening," Todd said warily.
"ok, the C.O. knows you're trans and in the closet. You got a company level '15 for it and they are hoping that eventually you'll fess-up and request to be chaptered out," the woman stated.
"What if we could pull a string or two and get you transferred somewhere else and pull a smoke and mirror to get your freedom for you and then you go to work for us," Rodrick asked.
"What and be arm candy like her," Todd asked sarcastically.
"Nah. She did all the hard work, I just stood there and held her purse like a good hubby," Rodrick answered with equal sarcasm.
The woman eased off the rock and stood practically nose to nose with Dunkirk
"One time offer sweetcakes. jump on the bandwagon now or sit and watch your career go to shit faster than you can 'holy fuck I'm being slammed forty-two ways from sunday and its only tuesday' because the blanketheads up top want you out and they have yet to get nasty about it. Hold no illusions. You're screwed and they haven't even started yet. We're your only way out. yes or no soldier," she said flatly.
Todd lashed out with the punch but Lyssa pivoted and felt his arm slide across her body then grabbed his wrist and stepped back throwing him over. Before Todd was finished rolling back up she was already there and swinging in with a punch of her own.A solid connection with his jaw threw his head to the side but the kick following it launched him toward a tree. For two minutes he attacked but each maneuver failed and was countered until Lyssa had enough and came around slipping the Marauder from the back of her thigh and stopped with the tip pressing into the notch between the base of the skull and his jaw.
"Whenever you're done trying to play grab-ass with me,"she muttered.
"Fuck me. You aren't even breathing hard," Todd gasped trying to catch his breath.
"Yes or no, I don't have all night," Lyssa reminded.
"What about my; issue," he asked.
"Haven't figured it out yet? Your issues are EXACTLY why we want you and why you'd want the offer," Lyssa asked.
"I'm in. What do I do," Todd answered.
Lyssa released him and slid the Marauder back into its sheath.
"You'll know what to do when the time comes Sergeant. have a good night," Rodrick answered.
Dunkirk watched as the couple practically disappeared within seconds into the darkness, then began making his own way to the rally point.
"morning Madison,"Dannigan greeted her as he walked into the office.
"Morning Major," she answered, "Messages from Kimberly and Lyssa."
The phone rang and Madison answered it, "yes? one moment please."
She put the line on hold then looked up, "David Sunders."
Dannigan walked into his own office and took up the phone, "morning Sunders."
"I thought about it. Ok, I'll give your little dog and pony show a try," he answered.
"Start getting all your affairs in order then. I'll move up your discharge a month. You'll get a briefing packet when all is ready for you," Dannigan instructed.
"ok," Sunders replied then hung up.
Dannigan cradled the receiver and looked at the two messages from Kimberly and Lyssa then picked up the phone and dialed.
"General, good morning," he said when it was answered.
"Oh shit. You don't need another dog do you," General Singleton asked.
Dannigan chuckled, "not this time. I need a body."
"Somebody, anybody or everybody," the General asked.
"I need one Todd Dunkirk. Currently on somebody's shitlist down at Bragg," Dannigan said.
"Oh? This is news to me. If I facilitate this, who benefits," Singleton asked.
Dannigan didn't miss a beat, "win win all the way around if it matters. You owe me anyway if it comes to that."
"Save the blackmail for a rainy day Branton; I mean Dannigan. You can have him. What do you need from me," Singleton said casually.
"In three weeks get him a TDY to the Pentagon for a month as a runner between you and DIA. I'll take care of the rest," Dannigan answered.
Singleton was quiet for a moment, "Sounds too cut and dry, what's the catch?"
Dannigan laughed, "I'm not that bad. You make me sound like a used car salesman."
Singleton laughed, "you could convince the salesman to buy the car for you Dannigan."
Dannigan continued to laugh then finally settled down, "Sergeant Dunkirk will meet with an unfortunate accident that will bring about his extremely messy untimely demise."
"Oh. One of those things," Singleton sighed, "fine. I'll get him up here and have him hang around the pentagon for a few days while you get things done, but don't forget to dot the I's and cross the T's."
"Not my first rodeo General," Dannigan chuckled.
"Don't I know that, Major. Call me if you need to," Singleton said then hung up.
Dannigan buzzed Madison, "Madison. Send a message to our people; Chrysalis is a go."
"Yes major," she replied and sent out the message.
Dannigan began assembling the mission overview and sent it to Kimberly. Three new to be molded in Kimberly and Lyssa's image.
* author's notes- Hypnosis has not proven to be a viable therapy for PTSD/ Battle Stress. It has only proven to reveal more details of isolated stressing events. Lyssa's use of hypnosis to resolve stress is FICTIONAL and used SOLELY for the story.
The psychic/psionic research conducted by American Intelligence agencies OFFICIALLY found results to be inconclusive as to the true viablility of utilizing such rumored talents. There are groups working in the private sector that claim to have participated in those research programs.
Book 35 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Candidates have been selected. How will they react when they find out who their leader is? WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Todd Dunkirk was bored. He reported to the office of the Commanding General of Special Forces every morning at 09:00 and then ran whatever errands to DIA and whomever else needed to be run then spent the rest of the day wandering around the Pentagon or various other places close by to be able to report back within five minutes until 18:00, 6:00 p.m., then was released for the day. After duty he'd go back to Ft.Mead and relax. sort of.
That's how it had been for the past three almost four weeks. No word from the mysterious couple and he didn't even bother to ask General Singleton or his staff about it.The first day was strange, the General had called him in and gave him a very vague briefing. The tasking had come from above the General's pay-grade but while Dunkirk was there he was expected to be textbook SF during duty hours and not bring attention to himself off duty.
Dunkirk had no problem with that and since had kept himself as inconspicuous as he could. At the final check in he was told to return in an hour and report directly to the General.
An hour later he knocked on the door and heard the characteristic growl, "Inside."
Todd entered and snapped his salute, "reporting as ordered Sir."
General Singleton reached down and pulled out a small bag and handed it over.
Todd gave him a puzzled look, "What do I do with it Sir?"
"Remove all personal effects and bag them Sergeant," the General said.
Confused Todd did so then removed his brass and ribbons when the General pointed at them, "ALL personal effects Soldier. Dog tags too."
He removed his dog tags then turned out his pockets as afterthought.
"Alright young lady. That's everything. He's all yours now," Singleton said to the woman sitting in the corner.
Todd turned to see a young woman with sable brown hair stand up and take the bag, "Thank you General. Follow me soldier."
He followed the woman out to a silver SUV. After showing her to his car she then drove out of the Pentagon lot. Twenty minutes later they pulled in at an office plaza without a sign, he followed her in and up to an office.
"Welcome Sergeant Dunkirk. Have a seat," the gruff looking man behind the desk said.
Todd sat down and waited silently as the man continued to work at a computer.
After several minutes the man looked up, "Last night all contents of the apartment you were maintaining in Charleston were removed and transferred. An hour ago certain things were removed from your quarters at Ft.Mead. Certain items of your personal effects will be returned that can not be replaced in two weeks. Tomorrow night a vehicle incident will take place just outside the city. A body will be recovered and identified as yours. The body will have to be identified by DNA. As of this moment you are now quarantined, is that understood?"
Todd answered immediately, "Yes Sir."
The man looked back at him intently, "I'm Major Paul Dannigan."
The Major took out a folder and Todd saw the Top Secret tab and name: Chrysalis 3.
"From here you'll be taken to a house in Georgetown for some time then taken to another location outside CONUS to begin your re-classification after medical clearance. You will commence the transitional process during which you will retain your previous skill sets and acquire new. When done you'll be evaluated and either continue training or take up an operational status and with a mission designator," Dannigan read from the folder then looked up and his dark blue eyes bore into Todd, "make no mistake Sergeant, you are about to enter a world from which there is no return and you have the opportunity to be taught by the best in the United States covert service. Not some of the best. THE BEST. This is the point of no return."
Todd Dunkirk returned the intense look and said firmly, "I want in Sir and I won't fail."
"Failure translates into death Sergeant. Understood," Dannigan asked.
Todd answered quickly, "Yes Sir. I wouldn't want it any other way."
Dannigan nodded then pressed a buzzer, "ok Madison."
The sable haired woman came back in, "come with me please."
Dunkirk stood and saluted which was returned then followed her out. Half an hour later she pulled in at a house and got out. Todd followed her inside.
"The bedroom on the left upstairs is yours. This is yours as well. The backyard is private but please do not go out front for any reason. No mail or deliveries come here. There's no phone or internet. I'll check in with you all daily," Madison said after handing Todd a folder, "learn that. That's you from now on."
Madison left after that. Todd went upstairs and looked into the bedroom, it was well appointed as was the connecting bathroom and there appeared to be a selection of clothing that on closer inspection turned out to be his size. He turned on the lamp, sat down and began reading, the history of Ms. Tiffany Davereaux.
Lyssa checked in with Kimberly, "how much do you lack?"
"We're taking off in a few minutes. L.A. traffic sucks worse than San Diego," Kimberly commented.
"Don't I know it. You got everything from the Air Forcer," Lyssa asked.
"oh that was a breeze, just diverted the PODS unit to Nassau and put it under my name," Kimberly laughed, "Carl will go and transfer the contents into conex boxes to be picked up by us at the private hangars. Navy girl is already looking out the window. Her car crash will be discovered in a few minutes to an hour."
"Ok. Pete set up everything for the Air Forcer and is flying her to D.C," Lyssa said.
"So drop Navy off in D.C., pick up the Army boxes and head home right," Kimberly asked.
"Right and pick up the Air Forcer's stuff in Nassau," Lyssa replied.
"Will do. See you in a couple of days," Kimberly signed off.
"All set babe," Rodrick announced crawling out from under the car.
Lyssa leaned in and turned the ignition then dropped the gear, "rest in peace whoever you were. You will be honored."
They both watched as the car idled off the embankment and down the gorge to hit and erupt into a massive fireball.
Chapter 2
Erick Kohler walked down the hallway and passed two rooms that stood open. One held a man reading at a desk or vanity table, the other seemed empty, which it was as the occupant walked up the stairs behind him.
"hi. I'm, uh,uh, Shawna," he said.
"Oh! So you're in this quarantine thing too," Erick commented.
Shawna laughed, "yeah. I was Air Force. Got here a couple of hours ago."
Erick smiled, "I was Navy. What about....."
Erick nodded looking into the room with the reader.
"That's Tiffany. She's not much of a talker. So what's your name," Shawna asked.
Erick looked a bit lost, "um. I dunno. I guess I don't have one yet."
"Sure you do. Its in your file that Madison gave you," Shawna pointed.
Quickly Erick set down his bag and looked in the file, "Krystel Evanson."
"Nice to meet you Krystel," Shawna said.
"You too," Krystel answered then followed Shawna down to the last bedroom, "so what happens next?"
"We wait until they tell us to do something else. I ETS'd so I dunno about the two of you," Shawna explained.
"They um,well; faked my death," Krystel admitted.
"Oh Wow! So you're totally blacked out," Shawna sighed, "well the old saying applies. 'You can't go home.' I think Tiffany's in the same boat but like I said, she's not a talker. Well in any case, I have dinner almost ready if you're hungry. I cooked for two but Tiffany said she'd fix something for herself later."
Krystel dropped the bag and file on the empty bed and followed Shawna back down to the kitchen.
Lyssa and Rodrick looked over Kimberly's shoulder at the window on the computer talking to Dannigan. It had been three weeks.
"Ok, we have all their belongings here now. Carl and Eddie are finishing up putting furniture into their trailers. LoneStar and Pete will fly up in the morning to pick up our three amigos and bring them back here after sunset," Lyssa said.
Dannigan nodded, "that's good. So far all deaths are now officially listed and the funerals were staggered so that I could attend them all."
Rodrick informed him, "we'll give them a day to settle in then get started on them. A discreet doctor I know in Nassau will take care of the hormones thing. Once every two weeks I'll fly her in and she'll do the shots. Blood work as needed and call back with results. She went to Johns Hopkins so you know she's a good doctor."
"Works for me," Dannigan replied, "you have the schedules made out by you, Lyssa and Kimberly so they should be quite busy for a long time."
"Star will keep Shawna's flight current using the three helos we have here and Pete will get her trained on fixed wing," Kimberly added.
"I think it'd be a good idea for all three to have some flight training on fixed wing and rotor for emergencies," Dannigan stated.
"Yeah that is a good idea," Lyssa agreed.
Kimberly and Rodrick nodded also.
"Make it happen then," Dannigan said signing off.
Kimberly then pulled up the schedule and began making the amendments as everybody else went about finishing the training areas and medical facility.
For three weeks Todd Dunkirk had read late into the night studying the file. The fabricated history, Legend as it was called in the intelligence community, of
his new identity; Tiffany Davereaux. Born in central Louisiana, which worked well considering he came from close to there and had the natural accent.
The problem was that Tiffany spoke fifteen languages as locals did. Todd only spoke four and not as a local; french, arabic, german and russian. Also that Tiffany was an accomplished dancer with hopes of attending both Julliard and then the Bolshoi Academy and an italian modeling school. Ballet wasn't the only dancing; there was ballroom as well, in particular International Latin. That was all the declassified information. A single sheet denoted the classified information was pending.
No siblings, parents deceased. No next of kin at all. Emergency contact information was classified. Todd shook his head and wondered if the same applied to the other two sharing quarantine. Time enough to deal with all that when it came he thought turning off the lamp and went to bed. His biggest concern was the obvious. Todd didn't know how to dance, at all. How the hell was he supposed to become this accomplished dancer when he had three left feet and still maintain an operational edge? With a groan he rolled over and tried to sleep.
He muttered to himself, "geez, its like they want me to be a spy and somebody like Lyssa Kordenay."
CHAPTER 3
Madison jumped back from the kiss with Pete at her desk.
Dannigan had cleared his throat loudly, "Ahem."
Blushing furiously she muttered, "sorry Major."
He chuckled, "that's alright Madison. You two don't see each other as much as you'd like. I just wanted to tell Pete that LoneStar has filed the return flightplan and is refueled. Pick up the kids in an hour and a half, that should give you some time to; cover the basics."
Pete laughed, "thanks super-spook."
Madison grabbed her purse and hurried to the elevator with Pete following close behind as Dannigan returned to his desk chuckling to himself. An hour and forty-five minutes later they pulled up at the Georgetown house and found the three sitting in the front room with their bags at the door.
"Ready to go girls," Madison asked.
All three replied in unison, "All set."
Madison waved them to follow and they picked up their bags walking out as Madison locked the door behind them. At the plane they saw Dannigan standing with the black clad pilot and it seemed like a casual discussion though Pete took note of LoneStar's body stance and knew otherwise.
"Whoa. Wonder what the hot topic is," he muttered so only Madison could hear.
Madison tilted her head not understanding and gave him a puzzled look.
"Star is pissed. I can tell by the way he's standing," Pete said.
LoneStar looked over and saw them approach then walked back up into the plane. After a handshake with Dannigan and goodbye kiss with Madison Pete boarded the plane followed by the three inductees. Within minutes they were taking off and heading south.
Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel looked at each other as the pilot that didn't show himself called out in a cold voice that inspired chills, "Boots an' saddles. We're on final approach. Strap in."
They buckled their belts and looked out the windows but all they saw was ocean as the jet came in low and set down on the runway smoothly then taxied to a hangar. The engines shutdown and stairs were lowered then the pilots de-planed followed by them.
"This way," Pete motioned for them.
LoneStar began the post flight checks.
"Don't worry. Even though its zero-one thirty; the orientation will be brief. Three hangars for aircraft; the office is in the main hangar there. Inside that walled area are the trailers. You each have one to yourself and there's the classroom and a medical facility. We have no real medical people but they can be brought in if needed."
They filed into the 'classroom' as Pete had called it; a converted three bedroom trailer and sat at the table in the main room. Moments later a strawberry blonde woman in a form fitted black bodysuit walked in wearing an assault harness with pistol in the thigh holster.
She faced them, "Hello ladies, its late so we won't be long. My name is Kimberly Moore. I run intel and logistics here. Krystel, I'll be your primary trainer but you'll spend time with the others. Shawna you'll be spending a lot of time with me as well. Tiffany, you'll spending some time with me but I'm not your primary trainer. My designator is: Lightning Bug."
They all nodded.
"Shawna you'll be spending most of your time with me. I'm Rodrick Mason your primary trainer. call-sign: RamRod," Rodrick stepped in wearing black BDU's and introduced himself, "Tiffany and Krystel; you'll also spend time with me learning maritime skills such as dive-ops, ship board activities and fixed-wing aircraft."
Pete stepped up, "I'll be providing your supplemental on fixed-wing aircraft and I'm the range safety officer and sniper trainer. Name's Pete, call-sign:Piper."
The black clad pilot stepped forward and they strained to hear his calm cold voice, "I'm your rotor-craft flight instructor. I'll teach you how to fly and fight in the sky also how to conduct rope assault and extraction from helo's. I'm LoneStar."
A man in coveralls called out from the side by the door, "I'm Eddie. Ground control and mechanic. If I say it ain't flying; it AIN'T flying. I love our aircraft, so don't blow me off or you'll get everywhere by rowboat."
Finally a woman passed between the tables before they could turn to see her face.
With her back to them the blonde in a form-fitted black bodysuit and combat harness addressed them, "I'll be instructing you in assault operations, espionage, assassination. Hand to hand, close quarters battle, demolitions, para-ops, interrogation, soft-probe penetration, hard-hit extraction. also the
flip-side of that coin; counter-ops. how to move in Jungle, swamp, woodland, desert, arctic and urban environments. I'll also be teaching you your necessary social skills including dance and languages. I'm going to run each and every single one of you into the ground and demand more out of you than anybody ever has in your lives. and you'll give it to me or die trying because I expect nothing but every ounce of your being from EACH of you! Tiffany I'm your primary trainer, especially for your ballet, ballroom dancing and modeling. My designator is Steel Butterfly."
She said to them in a clear voice as she turned around to face them, "My name is Lyssa Kordenay-Mason. You met my husband already."
The three sat there gaping in stunned silence.
"Wow. They're taking that really well," Pete muttered to Kimberly.
Kimberly laughed softly, "oh just wait til they find out she was a DemonWraith. They'll probably shit bricks."
LoneStar himself chuckled at that. Lyssa nodded to Rodrick and the men,signalling them to exit then she and Kimberly walked around and sat on the table facing them.
"A long time ago I was somewhat like you. I had issues that I denied and tried to conceal. I was in Delta Force. Then a DemonWraith. I was captured on a compromised mission and held for a week being tortured for information. They didn't break me. After I was rescued I was given a medical discharge. Before that hearing I was approached by Major Dannigan and offered the brass ring. I demanded gold instead and got it. According to him, I'm the best Operator in the world. I work in plain-sight. Tiffany you'll learn how to do what I do. Shawna, you're our ghost; moving in the shadows of other agencies and offices undercover. Krystel you'll be here and later on you'll be swapping between here with Kimberly and in Washington with the Major. I can't be everywhere and sometimes my fame works against us. Also the day will come that I'll be ready to step out of field ops. That's where you come in Tiffany. You'll take my place in the spotlight and in the shadows," Lyssa explained.
Kimberly smiled, "I was like you all too. Active duty army, military intelligence and in the closet. Major Dannigan found out they were about to slam-dunk me and provided me a way to napalm the ones that nuked my career on my way out the door. I was as floored when I met Lyssa as all of you are. That's it for now. We have your trailer's somewhat ready. There's a conex box with your things beside your trailer and name on the door."
Lyssa finished, "from now until zero-five monday you have time to get squared away. At zero-five tomorrow you'll fall out at the east end of the runway for PT, which consists of a triathlon six days a week. Sunday you rest. You'll see your training schedules in your trailers, we all have copies. who, where, when and what. Your faces are completely healed, as has from your orchidechtomy so I'll hear no excuses. That's it ladies. Dismissed."
Lyssa and Kimberly stood up and began to walk out.
Tiffany finally found voice, "Tell me this isn't a joke or a trick of some kind."
"Oh you're going to wish it was; before the end of Day One's PT Ms.Davereaux. You will wish it was," Lyssa said firmly then walked out into the night.
CHAPTER 4
Lyssa stood waiting at the end of the runway as the three arrivals joined her.
"Pick one; swim, bike or run," she announced.
Tiffany hesitantly answered, "run."
"Very well. One extra mile will be added to your run for being late ladies," Lyssa informed them, "there are only twenty-fours hours in a day and if you don't use them wisely you'll be reminded that time-management is critical to women and the longer we do PT the shorter your time to shower,eat and get prepared for the day is. and before you ask; yes when you are not on a range or in the water I do expect you dressed and made-up as the women you aspire to be. I expect it of myself. I expect it of Kimberly. I expect it of you."
All three women caught themselves before groaning in anticipated remorse.
Lyssa pointed to the three mountain bikes facing a fourth that she sat on, "mount up. The runway is a mile long and we have 5 to do then you'll run it 6 times and finally swim from here around to the opposite beach. If you want to compete against yourselves that's fine by me. Prizes are at your own discretion. Move out."
They followed Lyssa the required lengths of the runway then tried hard to keep up with the blistering pace she set for the run. The swim was another story all together and straggled in one by one to meet Lyssa back at their starting point.
"Two hours to get ready and eat. I suggest you hurry. Fall out," Lyssa said with an even voice.
All three saluted then made their way back to their trailers.
Kimberly stood in front of a plasma screen as one by one Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel came into the classroom. She turned around and saw them before
giving the order to sit and dropped her laser-pointer.
"OH FUCK ME IN A DARK ALLEY! what in God's name is this," she looked at them in dismay.
They looked at each other and realized that in some way each one was unacceptable.
Kimberly looked intently at each one, "Krystel; really? Booty-shorts and a crop top? Shawna where the hell is your make-up? Tiffany; I'm not even gonna bother with you. UNACCEPTABLE! Each and every one of you. You have half an hour to get right and get back. MOVE!"
When they returned Lyssa and Kimberly both stood at the front of the classroom looking very disappointed. If Kimberly's emerald green, black-belted shirt dress and black patent pumps hadn't given them a clue earlier, Lyssa's crisp white halter dress and stiletto-heeled sandals did now.
"Sit," Lyssa said coldly.
All three sat and silently waited for her to address them.
"I'll admit that neither myself nor Kimberly expected fashion plates on day one. We did however expect some effort and enthusiasm from all three of you. I thought I explained things well enough, though briefly, this morning," Lyssa addressed them at large then focused on each one, "Krystel, you're an intelligence specialist; not going for cheerleader try-outs. Shawna, you'll be among female agents of every law enforcement and intelligence agency of the U.S., not a before candidate for the cosmetics counter at the mall. Tiffany you're going to be a top model and ballerina internationally, not a castoff of the redneck version of Jersey shore on MTV."
All three looked down for the truthful call-out.
Tiffany promptly stood up, "Ma'am. We apologize and will see to it that you will not be disappointed in us again. Would you please outline our parameters for appropriate appearance? If possible; also help us sort through our wardrobes so that we don't make the same mistake again?"
Kimberly answered first, "the three of you will forfeit your beach time today to make up the lesson planned for now and you will all give us one walking lap of the runway this evening before dinner. In heels."
All three nodded in acceptance. Two hours passed by with Lyssa's careful instruction of make-up application and demonstration on all three then one on one wardrobe with Tiffany. Kimberly did the same with Shawna and Krystel. Orders were placed with an online vendor for specially sized clothes for them and shoes as well. After all that the scheduled lessons began and were completed.
Rodrick sat on the couch on the patio with Lyssa relaxing in his arms.
"So how bad was day one," he asked.
"Not bad. They've been shocked and they've been awed. Now to get them to pull together and see how much they can help each other by being friends,"
Lyssa replied.
"Still think Krystel is going to be ready before the others," Rodrick asked running his fingers through her hair.
Lyssa purred then sighed, "yeah. She'll be ready first. Tiffany is the one that'll take the longest. Her training is more in depth."
Rodrick chuckled, "if she thinks PT is hell; just wait til she gets into the dance studio with you."
"That's true, but don't forget. I have to be careful with her or her feet will be ruined before she even gets to a stage," she reminded him.
"I just hope Paul doesn't find something for us to do before we get a good portion of their training knocked out," Rodrick stated.
Lyssa leaned up and kissed him, "we'll get through it. We always do, somehow."
Rodrick smiled then stood up cradling Lyssa and carried her inside to their bed.
"Tomorrow's coming soon enough. I'm not done with tonight yet," he chuckled as Lyssa pulled him into the bed on top of her.
Book 36 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
The recruits are in training but an old problem thought once solved has reared its deadly head. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Shawna dragged herself out of the surf gasping for breath as she followed Tiffany onto the beach followed by Krystel. Lyssa in the lead, as always, as they ran down the side of the runway to protect their bare feet from the concrete. She'd increased their distances by a mile again. every week it was another mile. They'd been on the private island for almost six months and they'd already adjusted to the hormonal replacement regime. For three weeks they'd all broken down sobbing at various points daily as their moods swung radically. PT six days of the week followed by their skill training.
Monday mornings on the ranges with Lyssa, Rodrick and Pete, afternoons in computer class with Kimberly. Tuesday morning was Rotorcraft with LoneStar and afternoon ballroom dance with Lyssa in the home studio. Wednesday morning site penetration with Lyssa and in the afternoon was
fixed wing with Rodrick and Pete. Thursday morning was surveillance with Kimberly, afternoon was maritime ops with Rodrick. Friday morning was
hand to hand with Lyssa, afternoon was emergency field medicine with Carl. Saturday morning was assassination with Lyssa and afternoons was
international studies with Kimberly. saturday night a formal dinner or cocktail party at Lyssa and Rodrick's house. Every evening Tiffany had ballet class with Lyssa and they all had noon to 1:30 p.m. for lunch and beach-time.
Sunday was their only day free but were encouraged to experiment with make-up, wardrobe and cooking. They realized after the third visit by one of
the others that they were being observed. As if it were learn on your own course because either Lyssa or Kimberly would show up in the evening and 'offer tips and pointers' or one of the men would come by in the early afternoon with a contribution from a fishing or dive excursion.
Tiffany was the only one keeping up with the training schedule, due to her time in Rangers and Special Forces had been through strenuous training schedules before so she was accustomed to the demands. All three quickly came to the conclusion that they essentially were back in Boot camp and Advanced Individual Training, AIT, all over again. they were also to weekly follow a strict menu with the exception on sunday.
The end of the first month revealed why. They lost body mass. High physical condition without the male bulkiness. The hormonal regime redistributed body fat into more feminine locations making them develop their desired curvature.
Monday would start a different training schedule. all classes with Lyssa and Rodrick would be switched to some variation substituted by LoneStar, Pete, Eddie and Carl, who was a part-time diving instructor in Nassau, a sailboat enthusiast and had even been on the winning crew of a previous
America's Cup race as well as load-master on the cargo aircraft. LoneStar had been stationed close to Seattle for a while and learned a very vicious street-fighting style that Lyssa also incorporated into her fighting style. Pete boxed at almost professional ranks both before and while he had still been in the Marine Corps.
Eddie and Carl also re-educated them on their bar/night club etiquette and very quickly found themselves employing the same tactics used by women all over the world; from back-water dives in South America and Indonesia to posh VIP clubs along the Mediterranean and Caribbean. From how to instigate a fight between two stevedores to finessing tab information out of bartenders and where to find smugglers of both ends of the spectrum.
Eddie and Carl reminded them that though they would have superior fighting skills that its best not to reveal them unless as a last resort. Getting a guy to take up for them not only was strategically sound but also a good tactical decision as it could cover an escape from both overly friendly and downright hostile pursuits.
Lyssa and Rodrick's return from her European commitments marked an all new level. She became more vicious in their PT but also suspended regular classes to update their knowledge of current fashion and how the latest trends did and did not affect them. Lyssa also re-emphasized the distinction between fad and style. She also had the latest upper-echelon gossip of who was really who and what they were doing, where and how that information could be exploited for strategic advantage when operational. When she found out about the specialized training Eddie and Carl had instructed them in she found it amusing, though with much merit; two days later resumed the training schedule.
"Good god has it really been six months already," Krystel asked as they lay on the beach during their sunday break.
"Look at your boobs girl, they prove it,"Tiffany replied.
They all giggled at that. The training schedule had been changed to now having social instruction instead of ballroom dance lessons. Social instruction comprised of vocal and body language retraining as well as how to make intentional mistakes and appear charming for it. The saturday night party now included dancing and they each took turns at planning and hostessing it. They were evolving on many fronts and had definitely shown that change in their attitudes as well.
As of late they had begun a theme day during the week also and trying very hard to improvise certain looks with their wardrobe and make-up.That bit of inventiveness had been applauded by Lyssa and Kimberly. They even participated in the exercise as well. The rules for theme day were simple; 24 hours previous notice and nothing that required more than 4 hours of prep-time. Krystel had taken a monday and dubbed it Bond Day.
Pete and Rodrick, amused by it, taught the ranges in tuxedos while Lyssa wore an evening dress. Carl had gotten in on the act and found a way to
blare the Bond theme song over speakers in the killhouse.
"I heard Pete tell Kimberly that Madison was jealous she couldn't be here for Shawna's Charlie's Angels day," Tiffany commented.
"How much you want to bet that if we ever do it again they'll find a way to have the Major call in first thing in the morning and say good morning to us," Shawna asked.
"No bet. Too obvious. He'd do it," Krystel answered, "he already jumped on Tiff's Mission Impossible day."
Tiffany quickly said, "hey that was cool for them to come up with that for our training. A mock mission was a blast."
Shawna turned over to sun her back, "you know that it was based off of one of Lyssa's missions right?"
Krystel turned as well, "no way."
"Monte Carlo. Kimberly told me," Shawna answered.
Krystel asked, "did you see that we're going to be doing interrogation training as well now."
"Yeah, but our class will be more advanced than yours because you have to take computer forensics. Its Lyssa and Rodrick teaching the advanced
interrogation. Kimberly doesn't do interrogation at all," Tiffany replied.
"Advanced how," Krystel asked.
Shawna answered, "well its more psychological but just to let you know our class will include chemical agents and information extraction. Tiffany will
be more apt to using that than I will."
"ok those terms are masking what you really mean Shawna," Krystel said warily.
Tiffany responded after a few moments, "candy-coating aside; torture techniques Kryssie. What I'll be doing is illegal in every aspect to begin with
but nobody will know about me. Shawna on the other hand will be in front of cops and agents and all those guys so she has to work within the law most of the time. I don't."
Krystel thought about it for a few minutes then asked, "is that why you had an advanced assassination class and Shawna had crime scene forensics?"
Tiffany said softly, "mhmmm. And that's also why Shawna had criminal psychological pathology and neither of us did. We get a new language this week too. Hi warlock."
Krystel looked up quickly and saw the black belgian shepherd investigating them and she froze. It didn't take long to learn that Krystel was uneasy
around dogs. Especially Warlock since he was a tactical dog. She kept absolutely still as he sniffed around her blanket then relaxed after he wandered off.
"Krystel you're going to have to get over the dog thing. Lyssa and Kimberly both will expect you to be able to command Warlock if neither are here and he is," Shawna reminded her.
"Dogs scare me. I got bit once when i was little," Krystel reminded them both.
Tiffany looked over, "Warlock won't hurt you. Speak with authority and he'll obey."
Tiffany couldn't see Krystel scowl but did hear her mutter,"easier said than done."
CHAPTER 2
Madison felt down and gripped the pistol inside her purse as the nervous looking man cautiously stepped out of the elevator. He looked vaguely
familiar.
"Welcome to Global Interactions. How may I help you Sir," Madison asked.
"I need Dannigan," he whispered.
"I don't an appointment for you Sir," Madison said warily.
He glanced around, "Senator Jason Wesley and I need to see Dannigan. The CIA is trying to kill me."
"I'm sorry Senator but I don't have an appointment for you," Madison said.
"Its ok Madison," Dannigan interrupted, "I'll see the Senator."
Wesley all but ran into Dannigan's office. Dannigan closed the door then sat behind his desk. Wesley didn't see him press a small button at the right side of the edge.
"Do you have a SCIF here we could talk in," the Senator asked.
"This is a SCIF and it just killed the transmissions coming from the bug in your right shoe," Dannigan said and turned the computer screen around to
show it.
The look of horror on Wesley's face telegraphed loud and clear he had no idea it was there. Dannigan wasn't about to tell him that actually the bug had been killed in the elevator.
"So why would the CIA want you dead Senator," Dannigan asked in a bored tone.
"Well I currently sit on the..." Wesley began.
"The house armed services committee. The Intelligence Oversight Committee. The Senatorial Internal Investigation committee and the Federal Agency Oversight Committee, Justice and you're a member of the local Rotary and Lion's Club. yeah yeah yeah. The point Senator, I'm busy and you aren't helping," Dannigan cut him off then looked intently at him.
"They want me to get The Savage out of the Vault," Senator Wesley finally said.
"After everything the CIA did to catch him and put him in there," Dannigan asked in disbelief.
"You don't know the half of it," Wesley muttered.
"Sorry Senator. I do know. I know all about it. I actually knew Savage, before he went bat-shit crazy," Dannigan corrected him.
"I found a suicide note in my email. My suicide note," Wesley stated sounding more frantic.
"Being that it seems to have upset you, I take it you are not wanting to commit suicide at this particular time Senator," Dannigan asked sarcastically.
"DAMN IT I CAME TO YOU FOR HELP," Wesley yelled.
"The CIA doesn't want Savage out anymore than you or I do. The question:who does," Dannigan stated.
"Brad Kerrigy; CIA,"Wesley prompted.
"No way. Not Kerrigy," Dannigan said hotly.
"I'm telling you it is," Wesley stated.
"How the hell does a man I put two bullets in the chest of do that Senator? HOW,"Dannigan demanded.
"I'm telling you its him. He's CIA and wants the Savage," Wesley insisted.
Dannigan snatched up the phone and dialed Langley.
"Extension 452," a cool female voice answered on the second ring.
"Put me through to Decosta. Now," Dannigan said in a growl as he typed on his terminal.
"I'm sorry but there is no Decosta...." she began.
"MaryMargaret Jolson-Winters. West fourth floor, door 712. You live at 1696 Oakmont Dr. Virginia plate AXT-387 on a 2012 nissan sentra, blue. Your son Dex is currently failing algebra; for the second time and your daughter Haley is currently skipping school for the tenth time in the past two months. Now put me through," Dannigan said coldly.
Dannigan heard the receiver taken, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!"
"Decosta you lying sonofabitch. It's ScorchedSky,"Dannigan seethed over the line.
"Fuck me. Paul Dannigan," Arlan Decosta murmurred.
Dannigan growled, "It is and you definitely are! How dare you not tell me Kerrigy is not only alive but running around loose working for you assholes!"
"Hey! Fuckin' whoa! Waitafuckinminute! Kerrigy? As in Brad Kerrigy? As in 'I saw you put two bullets in his chest in front of God and everybody in the Pentagon nine years ago' Brad fucking Kerrigy," Decosta asked.
"Yeah. That one," Dannigan said flatly.
"Ut-uh. No way. I saw you give him the double-tap myself and read the autopsy. Hell I even signed off on it Paul. He's in a deep hole," Decosta insisted.
Dannigan paused then said slowly, "well I have a terrified Senator that says otherwise."
Decosta mulled that over then said, "this requires discussion."
The dial tone hummed in Dannigan's ear.
Two hours later a man roughly the same age as Dannigan walked in. Decosta sat in the other chair opposite the desk when Dannigan pointed at it.
Dannigan said clearly, "Park it. We're gonna fucking talk."
Lyssa came into the hangar and saw Rodrick zipping up his g-suit.
"Mmmm. You don't put on that to go gallivanting around," she purred stepping closer.
"Paul wants me to go pick up somebody and bring them back here. told me to tell you we're on 'war time footing',"Rodrick replied.
Lyssa lost all pretense then.
"We're blown," she asked.
"I dunno but he called not messaged," Rodrick answered.
Outside the Tomcat fighter could be heard starting up.
Lyssa's eyes caught a harsh glint, "how bad is this?"
Rodrick looked into her steel grey eyes, "I haven't heard Paul in that tone since the fight we had in his office about you. He's beyond pissed off. If I had to venture a guess; some other agency royally screwed up and he got stuck with the clean-up."
Rodrick kissed Lyssa then walked out to climb the ladder into the cockpit.
One last look to her then he closed the canopy and turned out. Moments later the fighter roared off the runway heading north.
After passing over Key West he air refueled and pushed the throttle forward accelerating to supersonic as he stayed several miles out in international airspace. He refueled again off the coast of South Carolina then finally brought inland off the coast of Virginia and put in at Anacostia Naval Air Station. Dannigan waited on the tarmac and when a ladder was propped on the side of the jet he climbed up to talk to Rodrick while he was refueled again.
"Senator Jason Wesley. Take him back with you and keep him safe. Gonna be a real job because there's a guy I killed after him," Dannigan instructed.
"No zombies allowed on my island Paul," Rodrick commented.
"We both wish. You never heard of Brad Kerrigy but he's worse than Randall Kagan so don't play around," Dannigan warned.
Rodrick's expression turned stoney, "We got this."
Dannigan nodded then climbed down. The ground-man gave Rodrick the thumbs up and saluted.
Rodrick returned the salute and closed the canopy, "All strapped in back there?"
After a moment of fumbling Wesley answered, "uh. ye-yeah. I mean...roger."
"Yes and no works just fine Senator. Try to relax and enjoy the flight," Rodrick said.
Within minutes they were heading south along the same path going supersonic.
CHAPTER 3
Brad Kerrigy looked at the weasel looking man and asked again, "What do you mean the bug went dead?"
Squirming he replied, "Wesley went into the building and two minutes later the bug went dead. I tried to laser mic the windows but two floors went static. Three hours later he left driven by a big guy in a suit to Anacostia. The big guy left alone an hour later. During the time there. Two C-130's, three C-17's, a C-5 and various fighters came and went."
"what kind of fighters," Kerrigy asked pointedly.
"a bunch of F-18's and one Tomcat," he answered, "the hornets went west and the tomcat went southeast."
Kerrigy looked on his laptop for any aircraft carriers cruising off the coast and saw that only one was but it was north not south or east. A few calls got him the flight plan; south to Key West. A call to an old Coast Guard contact revealed that the plane actually by-passed Key West and continued south to the Bahamas and landed somewhere on an island. The contact said also that rumor had it an ex-SEAL ran a charter service somewhere in the island chain.
A few more calls got him the name. Rodrick Mason. Mason owned an island in the chain and ran a questionable charter service. Also recently married to a ballerina and model. She'd be the weak link. Once he had control of her he'd control the man and then the Senator. Within six hours he and his team had a stolen seaplane and were headed for the Bahamas.
Kimberly stood in front of the plasma screen, "Brad Kerrigy; until recently thought to be deceased. CIA combat specialist. Trained with Delta and DEVGRU SEALS and can hijack anything from a single engine Cessna to a Los Angeles class attack sub. His team is comprised of six miscellaneous types. All dishonorably discharged from various services including Special Forces, Force Recon Marines and possibly one SEAL, maybe two."
"Jesus...its like a bad guy version of us," Krystel commented.
"That's one way to look at it," Rodrick replied.
"We're in for the fight of our lives ladies. That's a fact. This guy and his bunch are seriously bad fucking news," Lyssa said.
"Kill on sight orders," Tiffany asked.
Rodrick answered," absolutely. Kimberly hacked the FAA and got a flight plan for a seaplane headed into our general vicinity so it doesn't get anymore obvious that they're coming here and bringing anything that kills with 'em. The hangars are hardened so they'll need 500 hundred pound
bombs to crack them. We want them away from the hangars though so we'll give them plenty of reason to be on the other side of the island in the bush."
"ETA on the bad guys," Shawna asked.
"Five hours tops," Kimberly answered.
Lyssa went over the plans and told them all to report to the main hangar in ten minutes.
Tiffany lay still watching the surf come in from her sniper's nest. The polarized lenses of her scope allowing her to see deep into the water. Night
had fallen and the moonlight gave her good visibility. She finally noticed an off-shape in the water moving against the cross the current. She knew it to be running parallel the beach and clicked her mic twice; enemy detected.
Slowly she scanned back and forth looking for more. There weren't, it was a ruse. A decoy. A lone figure came out of the water slowly. He radioed in. That was her clue, calling back that he'd not been engaged. That would signal others to follow or to proceed inland from another point. Krystel on the other was monitoring all signals and would lock onto that frequency and eavesdrop from then on. Tiffany also knew that LoneStar would be vectoring in one of the drones now.
Moments later, sand burst up around the lone swimmer and he dropped. The gun-run from the drone had done its job. The drone attack protected her position keeping her concealed. Another two clicks came over the comms. Somebody else had sighted the enemy. Soon four more double clicks followed.
A male voice made the quick statement,"green 2."
It was Pete. Swimmers coming ashore on the northeastern shore. Tiffany resisted the urge to jump up and run to that area. Lyssa's orders were specific; stay in position until ordered out. She realized why a two minutes later. Six more swimmers came ashore in front of her so
Quickly she called it in, "six swimmers white 11."
Rodrick called out, "Shawna to Tiffany with Lyssa. Carl and me to Pete. Find that fucking transport high guard."
LoneStar's cold voice came back, "searching. Buzzard 1 orbiting northwest, Buzzard 2 extending orbit north."
Tiffany didn't move when she heard Lyssa's whisper, "on your six."
She wasn't alone, Tiffany heard Warlock's soft growl.
As the team waded out of the surf slowly Krystel's voice came up, "I got 'em. main force: northwest. Backup on northeast. Deploy accordingly."
"Eddie to northeast. I'll proceed northwest," Rodrick answered.
Moments later auto-fire erupted from the northeastern area as Rodrick slipped into the northwest firing line.
"We're engaged! HOOORAAAAAH," Pete called out.
Lysa took the left end of the line and Rodrick the right; putting Shawna and Tiffany in the center.
"Sweep forward," Lyssa instructed, "I want Kerrigy alive."
Slowly they slithered and stalked through the underbrush moving forward toward the men moving inland from the surf.
"Target acquisition," Shawna whispered.
"Same," Tiffany whispered.
"Clear us to fire," Rodrick called out softly, "I have primary in sights."
"Cut'em to ribbons," Lyssa ordered.
The short assault rifles roared as they triggered off the concentrated bursts of fire.
Lyssa called out over their comms, "Shawna and Tiff, close ranks right. RamRod tighten the gap forward. High Guard gun-run between opposing
force and the waterline."
Rodrick then noticed that Lyssa was firing single shots and they were wider of the mark. From his own training he knew what was happening, Kerrigy and his SEALs would notice that and perceive weakness in the ambush and focus their attack to punch through the line of fire. Lyssa was luring them to her. True to form; that's exactly what happened. Exactly the way she wanted, those fools. They now belonged to her.
CHAPTER 4
Brad took note of the close-ordering of fire, sweeping to their left and circling around when a line of bullets tore into the sand behind them. Single, erratic shots were coming from his right. that was the weak point of the ambush. SEALs never retreat; they counter-attack.
"Focus half-right and push forward," he called out to his men and led the modified charge.
"Biggest motherfuckin' mistake putting the scare-dy cat on the flank," he growled and began emptying a fresh magazine into that area.
Slowly they pushed forward. The firing never stopped, corrected or moved for cover. Finally they realized why. An assault rifle strapped to a sapling
and a string pulled the trigger. Suddenly a dark blur leaped up, snarling and took down one of his men.
"DOG," one yelled out.
Before he could say anything else a single shot rang out and his head exploded. Another man began trying to turn back toward the water and immediately went down screaming after a crashing sound was heard.
"OH FUCK ME! TRIPWIRE," another bellowed.
Another snap was heard then an explosion and another man screamed. Something hard thwacked the side of Brad Kerrigy's head and he stumbled
then fell over stunned. He tried to sit up and find a target to shoot at but a moment later pain flared through his head from the base of his skull and all
went dark. The last thing he heard was one of his men yelling out.
"Surrender! I SURRENDER! OH FUCK!!!!!"
The scream was cut short then he heard nothing else as the dark claimed him.
Senator Wesley sat in the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room as the source of his terror, Brad Kerrigy slowly came to his senses in the chair in the center of the small shack. Another of his men hung limply from a large stick hanging from the ceiling. Kerrigy raised his eyes and saw the Senator squirming in the chair across from him.
"You caught me. whoopee-shit. Never hold me gutless-shit," Kerrigy smirked.
The Senator looked down to the floor.
"Nothin' ta say cock-breath," he asked with a smirk.
"He doesn't get to talk," A large man walked in flanked by three women.
"Must be Mason and honeys," Kerrigy scoffed.
"We'll start with his flunky," the impressive blonde stated.
The brunette and another blonde stood by the wall and watched as did Kerrigy and the Senator. The woman took out a zippered case and opened it, revealing three ampules and syringes. Carefully she withdrew some of the clear liquid into the syringe, held the hanging man's head still and injected his neck.
"The serum takes effect in moments. You can tell by watching his eyes. Like now. See," she asked directing the question to the other women.
"What is this? show and tell night," Kerrigy asked sarcastically.
"first comes the feeling of heat. He feels his body burning. In a minute the burning fades and he feels coldness. Now. This when you may begin," She stated as if teaching a class.
Rodrick stepped forward and slammed a punch to the man's face then gut.
"You assholes think fuckin' him up is gonna do somethin' for me," Kerrigy asked chuckling.
The man looked up at Rodrick then shook his head and looked again.
Immediately he started muttering, "Not real. just a man. just a man."
"This is the effects of Innana. Reality is no longer his world. He now lives in a Hell, and we are the demons that rule it,"Lyssa explained in a quiet voice.
Kerrigy heard her words and shut up immediately. He'd heard the rumors of the chemical interrogation drug. He'd also heard that a certain person that used it never failed to extract every bit of viable and critical information, He now knew he was in the room with that mysterious operative. Lyssa stepped forward and pulled the Marauder from the back of her thigh and began cutting through the subject's clothing top remove it.
"Welcome to Forever my toy," she whispered.
The man whimpered as she then traced the blade tip into the skin of the back side of his arm. Holding the skin against the flat of the blade with her
thumb she quickly yanked down, a strip of flesh and skin ripping away. At the trailing edge of the man's scream Lyssa looked at each person until their eyes met her own.
Lyssa said coldly," Not a single one of you are to look away. That includes you Senator Jason Alexander Wesley. Mark well Bradley Isaac Kerrigy. This; is your future. Past the gates; before the throne. I've been to Hell, I'm taking you back with me."
For three hours she methodically skinned the man alive. It took only five minutes to make the Senator vomit, another ten and he fainted. Kerrigy stared straight ahead at the wall the whole time. His man had given them everything he knew within the first ten minutes. Kerrigy had nothing to
bargain with, even if a bargain could be struck. He knew that his only purpose now was to be nothing more than a practical exam for the woman's
two students. A woman that was infinitely more sadistic than anyone he'd ever heard of not being permanently locked in an institution or dead already.
Finally Lyssa sliced through the carotid artery of the mangled man making him bleed to death. Someone hit Kerrigy on the back of the head making
him blackout. When he regained his senses he found himself suspended and facing the two women. He closed his eyes and prayed they would bore quickly as one injected his neck. Two minutes later he saw the demons coming. Seconds later he began the first of his screams.
"Where is everybody," Krystel asked Pete.
"LoneStar's doing post-flight on the drones with Eddie. Carl is going over everything we found on them and getting the boat ready. Kimberly's
reporting in to the super-spook and you and me are talking about it," Pete answered.
Krystel waited a moment then asked, "What about Lyssa, Rodrick, Tiff and Shawna? And that Senator? Where are they?"
Pete shook his head.
"They're interrogating aren't they," she asked him.
Pete shook his head, "I know what you're thinking. Don't go out there. The last thing you want to do is go out there. Trust me on this. What's going on right now, you don't want no part of. You aren't like them, it'll fuck you up. Bad."
"I've seen forced interrogations before," Krystel said.
"Kimberly had to do what they're doing. Once," Pete explained, "it fucked her up. She still has problems. its not as bad now, but she'll never be the same again."
Krystel turned and walked away and within ten steps came face to face with Warlock sitting down at the hangar door.
"Will you please move, I want to go inside," she asked in german.
Warlock sat still looking at her.
"Please Warlock. I want to go in," she asked again.
The belgian shepherd ignored her statement.
"Go find somebody," she told him but he only stared at her silently.
Anger slowly crept into her trying to nudge her fear aside.
"I don't like dogs, go away," she said hotly.
Warlock looked up at her face then paying attention to her.
"Go Home," She said angrily in german finally.
Warlock stood and began trotting away toward Lyssa and Rodrick's house.
Pent up breath blew out of Krystel and she started to walk inside when an icy voice came from behind her.
"Well done," LoneStar commented.
She spun and faced the helmeted figure of LoneStar.
"Warlock understood the command well enough but what made him respond was your tone," he explained," Warlock actually doesn't understand
he's a dog. He does know he's a soldier, and like any soldier he obeys an order from a superior authority. Treat him like that, a subordinate. Not an
animal."
Krystel looked around, "I'm scared of dogs, Sir."
LoneStar stepped closer to be heard better, "we know that. All of us, each and every single one, are afraid of something. Let anger push that fear aside in order to do your job. Its what we all do, you should be no exception. You can be a snail that hides in her shell or you can be a dolphin that swims free. Your choice Evanson."
With that LoneStar turned and walked back toward the hangar housing the drones. As Krystel walked inside she wondered, what on earth did LoneStar fear.
Later that day Rodrick and Pete were escorting the Senator onto the Gulfstream and flying him back to Washington. He looked as if he'd witnessed Hell on earth as he stumbled up the stairs into the jet. Carl had went out on the boat, he returned later and nodded to Lyssa. the unspoken question of body disposal was answered. The seaplane had been destroyed by a missile from a drone. No traces of the hostile incursion remained.
Lyssa gave the trainees the next day off but resumed the schedule the following day as if nothing had happened. Tiffany and Shawna somehow found just a little bit more effort to give her and pushed their training even harder though every now and then Krystel would see them staring into space or trading a knowing nod to each other. Neither would tell her what went on in the shack.
Dannigan stared at the Senator, "Enjoy your sojourn to the Caribbean Senator?"
Wesley looked back to him with horror filled eyes and tried to speak but no words came forth.
"Sometimes secrets are meant to be kept,"Dannigan commented.
Still not able to form words Wesley simply nodded.
Dannigan's face held no humor, "Normally this is the part where I'd comment about wanting a budget increase, but I'm far from being in that mood. Pass along this message to the CIA, Get their collective shit together. I will not continue to keep cleaning up their messes."
Wesley nodded.
"That'll be all Senator. I don't think I need to remind you that what you now know is to be kept confidential under penalty of death. Or worse," Dannigan commented.
Wesley shook his head then slowly stood and walked out. The Senator now understood there were things worse than death, had seen some of them. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. As far as he was concerned the Office of Immediate Covert Action only existed on paper and their budget was untouchable. He prayed he'd never cross paths with Major Paul Dannigan or his people ever again. They could do whatever they wanted as long as it was far away from him.
Me Not!!
Book 37 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Training continues for the recruits now they venture into the field but reality lurks everywhere! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Lyssa ran quickly then jumped over the narrow gorge, landing on the other side then a few yards past leaped up to catch a branch and began climbing up the tree. Fifteen feet up she tied a length of 550 paracord to a branch and climbed back down. Within five minutes she'd dug a shallow hole and set a noose inside it secured to a peg then covered the trap with forest litter and sanitized the area leaving one set of tracks going through it. Satisfied with the snare she continued onward. The Balkan territories weren't a usual territory to operate in but it was a good substitute for other places and they had two hundred square miles to themselves.
Two objectives in one exercise; field forensics and counter-insurgency. This was the trainees first field exercise. The risk of identification was zero now that they'd all had facial surgery. They'd been in the field chasing Lyssa for five days. All of which she'd been leading them on a grand chase, up sheer cliffs and down waterfalls. Traversing mountains and rivers. Lyssa held nothing back doubling back at night to harass them when they tried to sleep. Rodrick routinely called in over the radios and asked them questions or gave instructions. Kimberly also contacted them via satellite link and held no warning classes and evaluations.
The task was straight-forward; track Lyssa over the terrain and avoid detection by any and all locals. The locals deemed hostile non-combatants and engagement was forbidden. In short, they were to be ghosts chasing a phantom. It was an exercise conducted by Delta Force's DemonWraith platoon all over the world after the Operators were certified to operate in that environment. This was the first, Lyssa had more grueling settings in the future for them. Jungle was next and she'd use the Amazon instead of Panama followed by a trip to Canada for Arctic operations then Georgia for swamps and finally Moab for desert. She sat down on a rocky outcrop and looked for them with binoculars.
Krystel swore loudly, "Fucking Lyssa and her damn traps! Get me DOWN!"
Shawna climbed up the tree and put her own weight on the branch bowing it downward. When Krystel was on the ground Tiffany gripped the cord and cut Krystel loose then carefully eased the branch up to not throw Shawna off.
"I warned you about getting in a hurry when her tracks were obvious," Tiffany reminded.
Krystel felt the back of her head for lumps, "yeah. My mistake, she got me good."
Shawna looked at her, "never know when you'll need to be in the field so you've got to learn how to be in it and not get waxed."
"I know I know I know. Me on point is a lousy idea. I suck at it," she protested.
Tiffany helped her up, "precisely why you're on point. Can't read a book to learn it. its OJT as Lyssa says. On Job Training. Its how we learned too so just dust yourself off and remember what it looked like before you set it off so you can avoid it in the future and remember; she's taking it easy on us. DemonWraiths go full out. Their traps can kill and have."
Krystel picked up the assault rifle, "I wouldn't know about that."
Shawna passed over Krystel's dropped hat, "Tiff does so listen to her."
They all drank some water then moved out again with Krystel on point, Shawna in the middle and Tiffany as rear guard. Krystel still didn't understand how Tiffany and Shawna detected the booby-traps so easily, as if they had a sixth sense about them. Finally they reached the high rocks and found three oranges waiting for them.
"Wise ass," Krystel commented.
Tiffany and Shawna said nothing but waited. Krystel reached for one but stopped with her hand hovering just above them and backed off.
"Its a trap," she said with a hiss and looked around.
A moment later she came back with a long stick and reached out with it to knock the oranges apart. A long limb streaked up from the ground and swatted at the rock where the oranges sat. Tiffany and Shawna clapped.
"Well done. When it looks inviting and easy; its anything but," Tiffany stated.
Shawna chimed in," only trust what you earn. Always look the gift horse in the mouth and you'll never get a nag."
Krystel watched as Tiffany cut into her orange then carefully ate the wedges. Shawna did the same so Krystel thought it best to follow suit. A moment later she realized why, in case the oranges were tampered with.
Just as they were starting to move Rodrick called out over the radios," Krystel; what is a good way to avoid cramps?"
"Eating citrus fruit such as oranges," she answered back.
"correct, why is that Shawna," he prompted.
Shawna replied, "citrus fruits have potassium in them."
Rodrick called back, "correct. what is another benefit to potassium Tiffany?"
"It helps the clotting of blood," she replied.
"Correct. Your next checkpoint is ten clicks west of your current position," Rodrick gave them a grid coordinate and signed off.
They found it on the map and moved out.
"Do they know they're heading for a village boss," Carl asked.
"Nope. They have a topographic map only. Lyssa will get there first and start setting up some improvised pop-up targets for them. The village is abandoned. All intel says its been deserted for years,"Rodrick answered.
They all sounded pretty aggravated Carl thought to himself.
"So let me get this right. Tiffany is gonna replace Lyssa and Shawna is gonna be the one that infiltrates agencies and that sort of thing and Krystel is Kim's back-up doing intel work right," Carl listed.
Rodrick stood looking over a highly detailed map, "that's right."
"So why do they all have to do all this kind of training if its just Tiffany that's really expected to be doing it," Carl asked.
Rodrick straightened up and stretched then turned to Carl, "to turn a bolt you can use that sized wrench, a crescent wrench or a pair of pliers but to do it right without damaging the head you'd use the right sized wrench. We can send Lyssa in. We can send Tiffany in. What if they're both engaged? We gotta send somebody. Just because they aren't slotted for it doesn't mean they can't be sent. Get it now?"
Carl thought about it, "yeah, now that you put it that way it makes sense. I ask because Kimberly wasn't trained like this."
"You're right. she wasn't and we're not making the same mistake twice," Rodrick replied.
Carl didn't have any response to that so he began to look at the map, its complicated markings on it and the notes on the paper beside it.
Chapter 2
Kana Takagami looked in through the glass window to the room where several young women lay on bed hooked to machines. All were in various forms of coma and stages of pregnancy. Fifteen years ago the sight would have at the least sickened her, at the most; it would have angered her. That was then, when she had been a simple kunoichi. Kunoichi, a shinobi sister, were even more rare than shinobi. The skills and traditions were handed down mother to daughter. In the ancient times they disguised themselves as maids, cooks, even concubines and the more elite, professional Geisha. Common misconception was that Geisha were an even more elite form of concubine or mistress but that was post-world war two thinking. True Geisha were not in the sex trade at all. Actually, they were professional hostesses for entertainment during high power meetings and parties. To have one at a social or business function was a show of prosperity and high social grace.
All Geisha practiced an art form; musical instrument, song, dance and poetry were the main skills. Kana herself had been trained as a Geisha and also a concubine as in the days of old but no longer used those skills. She no longer chose to entice her way close to the targets. She rarely used traditional weapons anymore. She had become a weapon. Through science and ancient training she revived the legend of the Poison Soul. Her very touch was deadly. A handshake killed within minutes. A kiss took only seconds.
The old way was to use a poisoned lotion that the Kunoichi had developed a tolerance to. The poison itself absorbed readily into the skin of the victim unless disguised as a concubine then the poison was ingested during foreplay. The target died during the act, the technique became known as Loving Death. The door opened and a man leaned in and nodded to her. Kana followed him into the hallway and entered a room two doors down. The wailing of an infant filled the room.
A man in a tailored suit spoke to her in poor Japanese, "we are done with this one. Results are not as satisfactory as we need."
Kana looked down at the comatose woman still strapped to a birthing table. The usual breathing and feeding tubes had been removed as well as the IV needles. Slowly she leaned down and gave the unconscious woman a kiss then straightened and nodded to the monitors. A moment later the heart and respiratory monitors became erratic then stopped. Only a sigh escaped from the dying woman. The nurse disconnected the leads and removed the sensor-patches then two men grabbed her ankles and cruelly dragged her off the table. The cracking of her skull could be heard when her head hit the concrete floor. As if trash they dragged her naked body out and disappeared from sight.
"Dark hair but blue eyes and a boy. Should fetch at most fifty thousand," the suited man said in an Austrian dialect of German.
Kana said nothing though she understood every word. He was unaware she spoke fluent German, French, Spanish, English, Chinese and even Portuguese. He used online lessons to learn Japanese to communicate with her and therefore usually got the words mixed up if not wrong all together. Three of his men had died before he finally had to tell them she was not there for sex and forbade them to get within arm's length of her. She didn't care. The past three years had been slow work for her. Most assassinations were now being handled by the criminal cartels themselves. She'd only had two assignments in the past year and had been able to accomplish them while still working this form of security. She would give them another six months them look for something else to do when they moved their operation again.
Through a window into another room she saw them impregnating a young blonde Russian girl. Semen was easy to procure. Eggs and host mothers weren't. This particular woman was new. They had surgically induced her coma with a crude lobotomy. Her resume included ballet and gymnastics. Kana knew the semen had come from an athlete that had once held an Olympic medal and also was a musician from somewhere in eastern block Europe. If she had to guess he'd had blonde hair and blue eyes to match the woman as those infants were the most sought after.
Kana went outside and surveyed the village. It had been abandoned for years. Nobody was even curious about it anymore. Hans had a gift for finding such places and had even once ran his operation in America for two years. Africa was too unstable. He had mentioned to some of his men that he was considering Dubai or Kuwait next. Unless he could find a place like this one in another Slavic state close by.
Something in the air felt off to Kana. Nothing she could see, hear or smell but something was out there beyond the perimeter. Something like herself. Something dangerous. Kana knelt down and sat in the overgrown garden. Slowly she began her Kuji. Using her hands she formed the esoteric symbols to focus herself and open her mind and senses. Time and space, nature, and foresight; the Way of Seeing. Kana felt the feeling of dread flow over her. Something very dangerous was close by and maybe heading towards them. She could see nothing but the feeling was almost overwhelming.
Slowly she opened her eyes and rose then went to her room and began dressing in black clothing. Carefully she selected weapons; several shuriken, small spiked discs to be thrown. Weighted spikes, two lengths of chain with weighted ends, a garrote, three various sized knives, a baton that held a concealed blade within it. A bag of powder was tucked into her sleeve to be thrown in the eyes for blinding an opponent as a bag of small multi spiked objects called caltrops were tucked into her other. A handful of small pellets that when impacting on a hard surface would give off a puff of smoke and flare were slipped into an interior pocket then she picked up her sword; Shinobi-To and a shorted version, Shinobi-Tanto. Finally from the deepest part of the chest she brought out a hardened ceramic half -mask that would protect her eyes, cheeks and nose but leave her mouth open in case she had to talk to anyone.
The sword was not supposed to be in her possession. She had taken it before her father left the clan in anger. He had forbidden what she was becoming when she used technology to revive the Poisoned Soul. He had declared it less than honorable. When she and the clan ignored the protest, he disowned her and left the clan. He didn't leave alone and took over fifty of his family with him. The offshoot clan declared her an abomination and even refused to say her name. Kana soundlessly climbed onto the top of a small house at the edge of the village and waited. Someone was coming. Someone very much like herself.
Hans Freidler closed the negotiation satisfied. The dark hair and blue-eyed baby boy would bring in sixty five thousand from the Italian couple. The way of the future; designer offspring. Donor father and host mother had both been Olympic caliber athletes though had only competed nationally in their respective countries. Ukrainian mother and German father. she had been a figure skater and he a swimmer. Apparently their parental dark hair was more dominant than had been thought.
The new girl would be more productive. Blonde ballerinas and gymnasts were the family legacy. The donor semen had come from a man who had been an accomplished gymnast as well and had even won a bronze medal in the Olympics. His family also were dominant blondes with light colored eyes. His eyes were grey. Grey, green and blue were prized eyes. Her's were a light blue. The combination should be quite profitable. The girl in her late-teens would be able to produce an infant per year for ten years if they could maintain her, she was worth at least a million.
The ninja woman was another matter though. She was becoming more costly and he sensed she would rather be elsewhere. When he moved his operation in six months he'd dismiss her, though he'd have to pay her twice what they agreed and do a more than fair amount of understating the need for her. The Japanese were very pompous people Hans thought; overplaying their worth though she was different. Indeed he'd have to praise her highly and make the excuse that he'd overestimated the situation and not think ill of her for being bored and wanting to pursue other avenues to provide challenges more suited to a warrior such as herself. Yes, he would practice that and add more embellishment to the warrior bit.
Lyssa had closed to within a quarter of a mile from the village when she felt uneasy. The trainees would arrive by late morning so she had all night to get everything ready for them. Some pop-up targets, a few booby-traps and various other improvised obstacles for a semi-urban setting. The village was supposed to be abandoned for years, but Lyssa wasn't about to automatically assume it still was and stroll right in. Slowly and methodically Lyssa worked her way around the perimeter of the village from the quarter mile distance and noticed on the road there were alot of inbound/outbound tracks. The road was heavily traveled.
An open barn revealed several vehicles hidden inside. SUVs and sedans of note were inside. Higher price bracket. The village wasn't as abandoned as reported. It seemed somebody was there and attempting to keep a low profile about it. Lyssa immediately thought of weapons smugglers or militants then corrected herself. It could be anybody, for numerous reasons. First things first though, she needed to find out who and what was going on before the trainees were committed to the village.
After choosing a path of shadows, slowly she crawled in like a stalking panther and began silently checking buildings. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw something move on the roof of a small house as she worked her way in. The deeper into the village she moved the more she felt that uneasy feeling. The satellite phone vibrated against her hip and she pulled back to the fence of one of the outlying houses to answer it.
"Go," she whispered.
"Hey babe, what with the whispering? None of the girls should be anywhere near you," Rodrick commented.
"Village is not secure. I repeat; village not secure. Unknown element conducting operation of undetermined nature," Lyssa informed him quietly.
Rodrick lost all cheerfulness, "location and status."
Lyssa answered softly,"undetected. Eastern edge of village at a, blue house with possible outhouse. Wooden fence around combined structures."
Rodrick responded immediately," hold position until course of action determined or position compromised."
"Copy, out," Lyssa signed off.
"Out," Rodrick replied.
In the distance a vehicle started and began making its way out of the village. She used her nightvision spotting scope to try seeing the vehicle occupants and all she got was two blurs.
CHAPTER 3
Kimberly awoke with a gasp at the knocking on the door as LoneStar bolted upright.
"Kim. Hey Kim! Wake up. Rod's on the phone! He needs something ASAP," Eddie called out.
Kimberly noted that both she and LoneStar had pistols pointed at the empty doorway. She set hers back on the nightstand and grabbed the wrap that matched her chemise, stepped into a pair of heels and walked to the door. She opened it and Eddie stood waiting.
"I brought a cart, let's go," Eddie said and sat in it.
Kimberly settled in beside him, "What's up?"
"I dunno but he says he needs sky eyes fast," Eddie answered as they went to the hangar, "sweet nightie by the way. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."
Kimberly cut off his chuckle with an elbow to his side, "we'd have shot you if that was the case, smart ass."
Eddie yelped but continued to laugh. At the hangar Kimberly rushed up the stairs and pulled up her various windows and called Rodrick.
"Sorry to wake you up early Kimberly but it's important," Rodrick stated after answering.
Kimberly and LoneStar had changed their sleeping pattern to accommodate the training schedule as much as they could.
"What do you need," Kimberly asked.
He didn't waste time, "get eyes on the village. Its supposed to be deserted but Lyssa has activity on site and wants it checked out before the trainees commit."
Kimberly looked at the list, "I've got a KH-15 coming over in five minutes. Only one bird makes a slow pass until tomorrow afternoon my time."
"It'll have to do. Get me whatever you can find," Rodrick answered.
Kimberly hung up and began accessing the NRO to get into the satellite. Just as it moved over the target area she finished her requests and began receiving information then relaying to Rodrick. Three buildings were occupied, one had a satellite uplink. vehicles were being stored in an additional building. She saw movement to the side and enhanced the imagery. Two men were working at the ground and a body was nearby. Further enhancement revealed the body to be female and cold. the men were digging a grave to bury her and weren't extending much courtesy in the way. Thermal readings determined the hole to be only a meter deep and not long enough for a casket of any kind. Kimberly felt anger spike through as the men grabbed the dead woman by the ankles and drag her over the hole, releasing to let her fall in and began back filling it. The phone rang and she snatched it up.
"Tell me they didn't do what it looked like they just did," Rodrick said disgusted.
"They dragged a dead woman over a hole and dumped her in," Kimberly said barely containing her anger, "I count three men milling about outside not including the grave diggers. Lots of heat off the one building but no body count available. Do I need to get Star and have him fly us there?"
"Not at this time Kimberly. Lyssa is in there but they don't know it. We'll figure this out and either deal with it ourselves or extract and notify the right people," Rodrick replied, "Kimberly, what's that? Just up and left of center grid."
Kimberly enhanced as much as she could but couldn't determine anything for sure.
"I can't get any better. Looks like residual heat from somebody sitting or laying down but I don't see anybody. Don't these backwater little countries have a reputation for slave trade," Kimberly asked.
Rodrick thought about it for a moment, "yeah now that you mention it. Lyssa and I should have thought of that. this village could be staging area of some kind. We'll get into this, thanks Kimberly. Sorry we had to wake you up. Them afternoon siestas are great aren't they?"
"Well now how are we supposed to find out if they keep getting interrupted," Kimberly answered snarkily.
Rodrick disconnected with a laugh.
Lyssa answered on the first vibration, "go."
"I got imagery. Village is definitely hot and it sucks big time. Definitely hostile, possible slavers," rodrick stated.
"Oh great. Just what we needed," Lyssa replied sarcastically.
"They buried a girl and weren't cool about it. shallow grave, etc. you get the idea,"Rodrick informed her.
"I'm inside so might as well do something about it," Lyssa commented.
"I can be there by sunrise," Rodrick offered.
"Negative. I got it. How long do I have visibility," she asked.
"Probably three hours," Rodrick answered.
"Ok. I'm going live, comms open," Lyssa stated.
"Copy that. Go get 'em," Rodrick answered and went silent watching her move out.
Slowly Lyssa began moving further into the village. A single man stood beside the open door of the barn with the vehicles inside. Silently she crept up behind him and palmed the Marauder. A quick thrust and she drove the blade between the notch of his jaw and base of his skull slicing deep into his brain. The thug sagged and she lowered him to the ground before dragging him inside out of sight.
Slowly and methodically she found and cleared the rest of the sentries outside then moved into a building that appeared to be a makeshift barracks for the others. The last four were awoken by the sounds, forcing her to use the silenced auto-pistol. The .40 cal bucked in her hand as she triggered off the shots then added a head shot to each. Lyssa policed her brass and used a pair of pliers from her multi-tool to retrieve the slugs from the bodies then moved back outside. In the middle of the adjacent courtyard knelt a single figure. Lyssa approached slowly.
"Such a formidable opponent must be confronted with honor and respect," a feminine voice said in Japanese.
Lyssa replied in Japanese, "If honor and respect are possessed then of course. My apologies at making you wait since the small house with the walled in yard."
Slowly the ninja clad woman drew the straight bladed sword and laid it on the ground in front of her, "You are very observant. I am Kana Takagami of the Mirumoto Clan; Lovely Death."
*Lyssa holstered the Jericho and gave a wary bow, "Introduction? As you wish. Lyssa Kordenay-Mason; Steel Butterfly."
"I've seen you dance once. To learn now that you are a warrior is both a surprise and an honor. I never suspected," Kana said.
She removed her sleeves and mask then her outer jacket which clinked from the weapons within. Slowly Lyssa unbuckled the harness and set it on the ground. It was just a show. Lyssa knew the woman was still armed in some way, just as she was. Silently she moved in closer as did Kana. Slowly and surely with measured steps they circled each other in the starlit courtyard.
Kana feigned a punch then kick, neither of which caused Lyssa to retreat or even move to block. Kana then moved in more seriously and threw a real punch. Lyssa stepped in closer and instead of blocking it or dodging, she punched at Kana's forearm connecting with it. The female shinobi leaped back then moved in slower.
'The American is learned in Jeet Kun Do. Way of the Intercepting Fist,' she thought to herself.
It wasn't exactly a martial art but more of a supplemental to other martial arts. Kana knew and therefore became more guarded. Lyssa stepped in closer and brought her left foot up as if in a kick then spun bring her fist around off the backhand. Kana blocked the hammer-hand blow and tried to grapple her wrist to use a Judo throw, but Lyssa reversed falling backward and to use a jujitsu arm slip. They both went to the ground and began trying to gain the upper position. Lyssa changed tactics and shifted to the Brazilian version and moved to get Kana over her.
Kana realized the strategy and began to move downward of Lyssa's body to get away then tried a foot-stomp but Lyssa was no longer there rolling away. The female shinobi noticed something else as well. The American woman fought soundlessly. No Kais or other shouts. No explosive breaths. Not even grunts or groans of exertion. This was a fight to the death against highly skilled killer. Lyssa closed in again, Kana threw another punch with knife-edge fingers. Lyssa grabbed the wrist and jerked hard falling backward launching Kana at the wall.
The move had taken her completely off-guard. She slammed into the brick-face and staggered back spitting blood. Again Lyssa closed in and immediately began a flurry of punches. Several began connecting stunning Kana as she began retreating to get a bearing. Lyssa was employing a fighting style used by Russian special forces. It focused on being able to throw two hundred blows in one minute. Kana spun fast in a back crescent kick and realized her error when Lyssa blocked and punch simultaneously then two double-fist punches followed. Kana remembered; a technique she'd encountered from an Israeli.
Lyssa moved in again swinging one foot behind her then swung it forward in a kick which Kana blocked before realizing that was exactly what Lyssa had anticipated she'd do and swung her other foot up to kick finishing the maneuver in a back somersault. Kana staggered back amazed and dazed. The woman appeared to have studied every martial art all over the world. the bodysuit and gloves the American woman wore protected her from Kana's deadly touch and she'd yet to land a blow to her painted face.
"You are well learned in the fighting arts Steel Butterfly. None have survived as long as you," Kana said with a respectful tone.
Silently Lyssa beckoned her closer to re-engage. Kana moved in slowly and waited for the strike to come. The American cared nothing for flattery. Kana threw another punch which was immediately countered but now she was forced to think steps ahead and brought up her knee in diversion then swung her fist in and connected with Lyssa's cheek. Kana silently cursed herself as she noticed the facial paint didn't transfer to her knuckles. She would have mentally berated herself more but the deadly American woman was moving in again.
Kana understood now that this woman would not be killed by any tricks or gimmicks. Kana resigned herself to the fact she would not be walking away unscathed and prepared herself for the strike that would come. Lyssa's fist streaked toward her as did her right boot. At the last split second Lyssa sprang off her left foot and spun in mid-air bringing her left boot around to blind-side Kana. the solid boot heel slammed into the side of her head at the temple. Lyssa let her momentum carry her around leading with her right fist to pile-drive the same temple.
Kana went to the ground as Lyssa continued forward and drove her knee to the woman's throat. Kana threw her legs up toppling them both and rolled over to come up onto her feet. Lyssa moved even faster and was already inbound with a palm strike to the top of her forehead. Kana felt every vertebrae in her neck compress and heard the crack of several shatter. The ninja locked in paralysis on her knees. Lyssa stood casually looking down at her.
"You're done Kunoichi," Lyssa said softly in an icy voice.
"the Living Death Hammer," Kana said straining, "You've fought with such honor Steel Butterfly. This karma compels me to confess to you. My body is impregnated with poison, like the jungle tree frog. It's how I've killed undetected for the last several years. Your karma would not allow such an undeserving death. I betrayed myself when I came to this place. The selling of the innocents is against all that is moral. I betrayed karma even more by killing the women who give birth when Hans told me they were of no longer use to him,."
Lyssa walked over to the woman's weapons and unsheathed the Shinobi-To and came back.
"Your karma will hold you accountable in the next life Kana Takagami, Lovely Death of the Mirumoto clan," she whispered.
"Honor and respect always to be yours, in this life and the next," Kana said with labored breaths.
Lyssa swung the sword in a perfect arc severing the woman's head from her body.
CHAPTER 4
Hans walked back into the clinic as they called it and realized something was very wrong. Suddenly he noticed that nobody was moving. The nurses, the men guarding inside, the lab technicians. None were moving. He opened his mouth to yell at them when circular cold steel pressed to the back of his head.
"Welcome to the final moments of your pitiful excuse for a life," a cold feminine voice hissed behind him.
"You won't live long enough," he smiled.
"Kana won't be joining us. Neither will any of your men," she replied.
Hans felt panic creep into him and launched himself forward to run. A single shot rang out as he gained the door and he felt the bullet tear through his back then felt nothing as he crumpled to the floor. As hard as he thought about trying to get up and run through the open door his legs remained motionless. Steel grey eyes locked to his as the pistol came up again.
"I'm being merciful. The death you deserve would take years," the woman with paint streaked features hissed.
"Let me go. I make deal," Hans begged then rattled off the computer password, bank account and its password.
"No deal. Just death for you," Lyssa said then squeezed the trigger once.
The bullet sliced into the side of his neck opening the artery. As his vision dimmed he saw the steel-like grey eyes before him.
"Past the gates; before the throne. I've been to Hell. You deserve much worse; this is too kind," she said in a clear voice.
Hans' mouth opened and closed but no words came out as he fell over dying. Lyssa looked around at the six beds.
"Ramrod come in," she spoke over the mic.
"Go," he replied.
"You're not gonna believe this. Its; its like a human version of a puppy mill," she choked out.
"I'm inbound. I'll hurry," he replied.
"Ok," Lyssa signed off.
Tiffany eased closer to the village and froze. Pete stood in the middle of the road. they watched him for fifteen minutes. He kept checking his watch and looking around for them.
"Piper. Any sign of the kids yet," Rodrick's voice came over a walkie-talkie.
"Negative. They're overdue by ten mikes. Another ten and I'm gonna go look for 'em," Pete replied.
"When you see 'em get 'em to haul ass we got a hell of a place to sanitize. Jesus fuckin' Christ; this is a fuc kin' mess. that guy's lucky she killed him or I'd haul 'im back to the island and work on him for a month," Rodrick called back signing off.
"Heard that," Pete signed off.
"Let's go," Tiffany said.
"Wait. What if its a trick," Krystel asked warily.
"No trick. He wouldn't be about to go look for us if it was," Tiffany replied and stood up.
They made their way out of the scrub beside the road and walked down it.
"Finally. Where the fuck have you three been," Pete asked.
"We were confused. You were just standing there in the middle of the road; so we thought it was some kind of a set up and you were playing security," Shawna explained.
"Oh. Well come on. There's a lot to be done. We got eleven shades of shit in a one shit trumpet," Pete waved them on.
The three followed Pete into the village.
"Tiff; you and Shawna start pulling bodies outta that hooch there. Krystel with me, we gotta find a couple that Lyssa left laying around," Pete said, "All bodies are going into a trench behind that building over there."
Tiffany and Shawna commenced with the assigned tasking while Krystel followed Pete as they looked for three remaining corpses. After ten minutes they'd found them. After covering the bodies with dirt they went to the main building led by Pete and stood horror struck at the sight. Pete had already told them what the story was. The fact they knew before seeing is what made it worse.
They stood and stared as the impact of it all set in. Ten beds in all but only six were occupied by women of various stages of pregnancy. Lyssa was leaning over one bed seemingly crying.
Tiffany leaned close to Pete and whispered, "Is Lyssa crying?"
"Yeah," he answered softly, "she knew that girl vaguely from the Bolshoi Academy. Lyssa recognized her immediately. The file says she's been lobotomized or something to be comatose. She's got no family. Lyssa made a call or two to find out. The other victims have families we think so we'll arrange it so Interpol gets custody of them all to get them home."
Rodrick had been whispering to Lyssa when she finally sat up, "No. Helena has nobody and if we send her back she won't even make it out of the country. They'll take her to the embassy and pull the plug. They won't even take her home."
"So what do you want to do," Rodrick asked.
Lyssa looked down at the damaged woman and said finally, "we take her with us."
"And the baby," he asked.
Lyssa looked back at him, "becomes our own."
Rodrick thought about it, "if we do this. If; will the kid ever know and whether or not, how many outside the agency have to know?"
Lyssa thought then answered, "we don't tell the child and outside the agency only Katya can know. If I 'take a year off' she would demand to see me sometime and if not allowed she'd go bonkers thinking something happened to me."
Rodrick looked around the room," does everyone understand this? Lyssa and I take on the child as our own. The biological mother can never be spoken of; understood."
a chorus of 'yes' answered him.
"Let's get this place cleared up then. Calls need to be made," Lyssa said dialing the sat-phone as the others began getting the women ready for transportation out.
Kimberly met the doctor at the foot of the Gulfstream's steps.
"Welcome back Dr. Isley," Kimberly smiled.
"Thank you Ms. Moore. Its nice to see you," Dr. Isley replied with her usual chipper smile.
They rode in a cart over to the infirmary and went inside, all the way back to the last room.
"Oh dear. Is the woman injured or sick," the doctor asked.
"She's comatose doctor. We believe it to be surgically induced," Lyssa spoke from the side of the room.
"Mrs. Mason. Hmmm. I take it that bruise on your lovely cheek is none of my concern," Dr. Isley greeted her and asked.
"Luck is a fickle thing doctor. There's also something else about our sleeping beauty. She's pregnant," Lyssa replied.
"Now I understand why you requested the ultrasound. Are there any medical records at all for her," she asked.
Kimberly passed over a file, "this is all we could find out."
Several minutes passed as the file was read she didn't comment that certain infomation was omitted. Such as name, age, origin. Dr. Isley then examined the comatose woman.
"Brought your gear Doc," Pete said entering the room with two cases.
Wordlessly she took out what she needed and began a more involved exam. After almost half an hour she turned to speak.
Dr. Isley said ,"her coma was indeed surgically induced. A portion of her brain was damaged by an invasion. She's oblivious to the world. This is non-recoverable. The other news is yes; she is pregnant. Twins. By nature or intention can't be determined. The upside is the embryos are not conjoined though sharing the same placenta. All indications are she's been pregnant for three weeks and in good health considering. In three months the genders may be able to be determined."
"thank you Doctor," Lyssa said then looked to Kimberly and nodded to the door.
After Kimberly walked out Dr. Isley looked to Lyssa, "let's dispense with niceties Mrs. Mason. this woman is in a non-recoverable coma and I suspect that the only reason she's here is because she's pregnant. Correct?"
Lyssa stepped in closer and looked at her intently, "You are correct Doctor. I knew the girl, she has no family. No one to miss her. I came across her by accident and refuse to do nothing about it."
"If I understand what you're implying, you'd like me to proclaim you the biological mother of the twins. yes," she asked.
"Yes. After delivery, I'll see to her personally. It'll be humane and painless. No distress at all doctor. Rodrick and I will claim the children for our own and no one off this island except you are to be the wiser. Is this acceptable," Lyssa asked holding out a Bearer-Bond.
Isley didn't even look at it, "yes Mrs. Mason it will if you will elaborate on how you intend to ease your surrogate's passing please."
Lyssa held out a micro-syrette. Isley turned it over in her hand.
"If you're expecting a cool little nickname for that, there isn't. Its a poison. without compromising anything; its a combination made from a toxin originating in Russia and another out of Isreal and one from Germany. It takes effect in under five seconds. Completely painless," Lyssa explained, "I've already made special arrangements for a burial on Grand Cayman and the grave will be maintained for the next hundred years."
"Acceptable Mrs. Mason. Congratulations on the news of your pregnancy and I look forward to home delivering your children," Anna Isley said and accepted the Bond, five millions dollars.
Rodrick walked in, "what's the verdict?"
Lyssa took the flowers from him and set them on the beside table, "we have an agreement."
Dr. Isley looked over at the flowers, "that's kind of you Mrs. Mason; the forget-me-nots."
Lyssa nodded as the doctor walked out, Rodrick followed carrying the equipment.
"I won't forget you Helena," Lyssa whisper and kissed her forehead.
*- author's note: This kind of 'big epic fight scene' wouldn't happen in reality. But I wanted one, because it would be SOOOOO cool.
Book 38 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
More training for the recruits the field becomes the jungles and the environment isn't the only danger! WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
Tiffany slithered through the ferns and other brush across the damp floor of the Brazilian side of the Amazon trying to ignore the muttered curses of the two women behind her. Krystel hated the jungle. Shawna wasn't thrilled to be in one either but it was vital to their training and were sticking it out. Tiffany had already reminded them once that in no time at all they'd all be wishing for the heat and rain of the jungle instead of the freezing snow of the arctic which was next. She tried not to dwell on the last field exercise in the Balkans that brought them face to face with the horrors of the world. A black market baby-mill.
Comatose women forced to produce designer babies for a high paying market that ran the gamut from wishful parents trying to conceal infertility to sex slavery demands. Taught from childhood to practice every conceivable sex act without protest brought high prices from all over the world it turned out from the records they acquired. Records then passed on anonymously to Interpol, ICE, FSB, and various other entities with carefully selected tidbits released to world news organizations. The fact that a mission could and had cropped up during training wasn't lost on them. Krystel had already voiced worries about running into a drug cartel deep in the jungles. Shawna was more concerned with local wildlife as she had a fear of snakes.
Tiffany froze as her hand pressed down on a patch of litter and it felt springy. Slowly she lifted her hand away and used a stick to press on the spot. A crude mat gave way to reveal several sticks jammed into a shallow hole. The sticks weren't sharpened to points but they served their purpose none the less. Tiffany hand signaled back she'd found pungi sticks and they all began looking for secondary booby traps. Lyssa had a habit of making two or three in a group. If one is found or tripped the remaining force would then spread out and trip the other trap or traps.
Psy-war 101, convince an opposing force that pressing forward is more costly than circling around or back-tracking and make them go into a kill-zone. American troops trained with the mentality that the harder it is to go somewhere then its where they should be going. 'Tell me to go away and I'll come bust down your door.' Slowly they maneuvered around the cluster and continued forward.
"Tiff," Krystel whispered.
Tiffany looked back.
"how bad are we gonna get hammered by her this time," Krystel asked.
Tiffany held the gaze then muttered, "worse than anywhere else we'll ever be. SF started in the jungles, ramp that up several hundred times because she's a Delta and then a few more because she's a DemonWraith. Of all of us I stand the only chance, and it isn't worth shit. We're toast. Doesn't mean we hang it up. She's teaching us her way and it works."
Shawna tapped Krystel's ankle, "none of this is supposed to be a cake walk. We learn more from failure than success. If we don't spring her traps and blunder into her ambushes then we'd never learn how to make the enemy do it. She gets us, we get them the same way. Take heart Kryssie, we'll win when it matters most."
Krystel was quiet for a minute then whispered, "so 'The more we sweat in our training the less we bleed in combat.'a SEAL commander said that. He also said that if we 'hurt in our efforts and suffer pain then we are doing it right.' Or something like that."
"Boil it all down and yeah, that's about the measure of it," Tiffany answered," let's go."
Slowly they continued forward through the underbrush.
Rodrick watched the three dots on his screen. They were a hundred meters from an ambush. He had to admire Lyssa's skills even more than before. She was training the three deep in the jungles without even using live fire. In fact, only the three trainees would hear anything. More than an eighth of a mile away would hear nothing. The simulators gave off pops that weren't as loud as firecrackers. The trainees had no clue that they were about to go into a swamp. Swamps were his playground as jungles were Lyssa's. SEALs specialized in riverine warfare, many times their missions were limited to within a few kilometers of a waterway for their infiltration/exfiltration.
Of the three, Shawna would have the most problems. He and Lyssa knew of her fear of snakes and he'd use it against her. Rodrick began making his way into the muck and water when Lyssa called over the radio.
"Butterfly to Ramrod, you up," she asked.
"I'm here, got you five by five,"Rodrick answered.
"They should be all yours in four maybe five hours," she estimated.
Rodrick looked at his watch, "Copy that, I set off some charges underwater half an hour ago to clear out anything that'd get too nosy. they won't know that though."
Lyssa replied, "Roger that. I'll see you on the other side at checkpoint two-five."
Rodrick smiled. He knew Lyssa would be able to make her way around before the trainees made it halfway through the swamp and make a camp for herself along the riverbank leading into the swamp. LoneStar and Pete had dropped them all out using an old drug runner strip as a landing zone. Those two currently waited at their own concealed airstrip. The whole exercise would traverse two hundred miles. The first fifty had went quickly, but a sheer cliff brought the exercise to a crawl as they had all descended into the valley that spanned almost a hundred miles long and contained the swamp he now would use. Rodrick moved along occasionally stopping to set up a trap or distraction. He set up a snare that worked in reverse, instead of yanking the person up it dragged them down under water as if attacked by a crocodile or alligator. South America had its own version called Caymen.
The trick, when first used by SEALs in Panama against drug cartel soldiers, made them think that was what had happened and began shooting blindly; killing their own men. He chuckled to himself remembering a movie quote,' They're gonna save us to death.' He modified the trap to dunk them under once then release. They would learn quickly learn from it, also the tactic SEALs used by harassing an enemy into chasing them into a swamp which had been turned into a kill-zone. Prepare the swamp area with an ambush and booby-traps then go inland to provoke a superior force and lead them back into the swamp. Most thought the SEALs would stop and fight at the water's edge instead of going in. Those enemies never lived to regret that train of thought. Rodrick continued on through the night, he and the trainees would spend the next three days in this swamp.
Dannigan read the reports from the DEA in Brazil and the tri-borders area again. The local military outposts were finding entire villages deserted. The disturbing part was that the villagers were unaccounted for. They weren't migrating, just disappearing. A local colonel believed that a new drug producer was the cause. Dannigan knew from past experience that every so often someone would brave the jungle and carve out cocaine fields and begin press-ganging indigenous tribes' people into working them. Slave labor in short. The Brazilian army would eventually go after them and at least free the Indians but sometimes it took months and up to a year just to find them.
He chuckled to himself, woe be to the druggies if they called attention to themselves while Lyssa, Rodrick and the trainees were around. Though Lyssa still preferred to work alone as she usually did, the thought of turning the trainees loose to vent frustration might be appealing to her. Over ten months of constant training and harassment by Lyssa and company would drive a convent of nuns postal, much less three Operators in the making. For some reason Dannigan felt that was what was going to happen whether any party wanted it to or not.
His eyes drifted over and caught the tabloid on the coffee table that Madison had brought in. The headline proclaimed; Prima announces pregnancy to delight of dance and modeling world. Dannigan had thought it a stroke of genius, announcing pregnancy gave Lyssa freedom out of the spotlight and demand to devote to training Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel. She'd even found a viable excuse to not be seen which would be released via her friend Katya on their return from Brazil. Dannigan admired the fierce loyalty the young Russian dancer showed to Lyssa and had even danced with her at the wedding reception. She thought he had been Lyssa's sponsor when she first appeared on the scene. An illusion that now worked in his favor since she had slipped him her private cellphone number in case Lyssa wouldn't admit to being in distress. She didn't know it yet but Katya would be an integral part in Lyssa's greatest deception.
Chapter 2
Humberto Carerra pointed at the old man slumping over. Immediately one of the armed men ran over and began yelling to resume working. The old Indian swayed in place then collapsed. Yelling louder the gunman began nudging then kicking at him. A loud snap was heard and he crouched down, a moment later he looked over and slightly shook his head. Humberto used his hands to signal shooting the dead man. The guard nodded slightly then stood back and emptied the magazine of his rifle in one long burst then reloaded and fired a single shot at a younger man close by, killing him.
"For every one that will not work, two must die. Now back to work filthy animals," the guard yelled at the group that had stopped picking leaves.
As many wept, the picking resumed. Carerra mentally calculated production and didn't like the figures. This group had come from deeper in the jungle and weren't accustomed to fieldwork. He'd have to send his men farther toward the jungle edges to get field workers next time. Fishing and hunting tribes didn't hold up as well as farming tribes. the problem was the fishing and hunting tribes were easier to capture after being found. It took longer to notice their absence as well. Farming tribes often interacted with the military patrols as they were stationary. A new importer had come to Brazil and his demands were high. A typical North American; demand a lot and expecting to get it for bottom cost or less. An old friend had done this before and even took three of the young Indian girls to keep in his bedroom, a mistake he'd not be making again. They had eventually gained an opportunity and killed him.
Humberto had went a different route and obtained two favela girls. They were happy to dress sexy and occupy his bed and not be put into the fields or turned out for his men's entertainment. The men occasionally dragged one or two of the Indian girls into their barracks for the night, initial struggle didn't last long. The next morning the girls would be very accepting of field work as they would be offered the alternative of permanently becoming the nightly entertainment. If things continued as they were he'd have several million dollars in just a few months and then be gone before the army found him. When it was time to shut down the workers would be killed and he'd give his men champagne to celebrate, poisoned of course. His goal of one hundred million dollars was not far off now. He'd be halfway there in eight more days if the pace picked up.
Rodrick stood waiting with Lyssa as Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel finally slogged out of the river and collapsed on the bank. Sometime during their first night in the swamp it had started raining and didn't let up until they found their way out.
"Who's hurt," Lyssa asked pointedly.
"Smacked my head on a fucking log," Shawna muttered.
Krystel answered grumpily, "water snare almost tore her leg off and drowned her."
Rodrick walked over and began checking Shawna over.
After a couple of minutes he asked them all, "you all know how the water snare works now and how to set one up, yes?"
All three nodded.
"Ok ladies. We're gonna take the rest of the day for you to dry out and recover then its back into the bush. Nothing untoward, we'll clear the valley in 48 hours. The weather will cooperate for the next 96 and then its anybody's guess. One thing of note; on the way here I passed two deserted villages," Lyssa informed them.
"Deserted like that village in the Balkans," Krystel asked snarkily.
"More along the lines of 'where the fuck are the people that are SUPPOSED to be here' deserted," Lyssa replied.
"Intel said the villages were hot so we took you through the swamps to bypass them and get in riverine training at the same time but Lyssa probed both villages on the way through and they're cold. Tribes like them do migrate but things are off about it," Rodrick explained.
"Define 'off' please," Shawna asked now very attentive.
Lyssa resisted the urge to smile at the investigator taking over within Shawna, "Belongings are still there. cooking pots, bows, blowguns, knives and machetes. clothing and various other sundries. It would have taken too long to determine possible egress from the village. The closest village is ten clicks east of us."
"You want to go check it out," Tiffany asked Shawna.
"Questions that have no answers bother me. There's supposed to be people there. They aren't. why? Where'd they go," Shawna asked.
Lyssa regarded them intently then said, "deviation of the training must be a group decision Shawna. Confer among yourselves. If yes then we move out in three hours, if no we move out on mission in five but we only take a look-see."
Three hours later all three reported to Lyssa and Rodrick.
"Ma'am we're in agreement and are ready to recon the village," Shawna said.
Lyssa looked to Tiffany and Krystel who both nodded.
"Very well. March order the camp and we'll move out," Lyssa instructed.
"Done and awaiting patrol order Ma'am," Tiffany answered.
"I'll take point. Krystel, Shawna, Tiffany with Rodrick on rear guard. Live rounds now," Lyssa pointed to each and led the way after picking up her rucksack and CAR-15.
Krystel watched in amazement as Lyssa moved through the brush and trees quickly. With determination she tried to mirror Lyssa's movements and began to ease through as well. Instead of hacking and slashing her way through the foliage, Lyssa found almost unseen weaknesses in the thick greenery and flowed through it like a river rushing through a gorge. Krystel became so focused on making headway she almost stumbled into Lyssa when she stopped.
"Head on a swivel little fish. See everything before it sees you," Lyssa said softly.
"We worked so hard and all this time; doing it wrong."
Lyssa looked at Krystel, "it works backwards. Stop looking at the trees and see the jungle. How its strong and where its weak and it'll open to you. You'll never overcome the jungle, you have to become part of it. Think zen and you'll move. Fight it and be brought to a crawl. Accept it and you can run. Clear all thoughts from your mind and fill it instead with what is around you and be accepted."
Krystel started looking around.
"If you think dangerous; you'll project and be perceived as danger. Become air, water, mist, ground. The jungle; and the jungle will accept you. This is what separates us from all others. We are MORE than just soldiers. We are warriors. Hunters of killers. Give up all that you WERE and become that which you must BE. Without that acceptance Krystel; my teachings are for nothing," Lyssa said looking off into the distance.
Krystel took that in and then said, "hide in my shell. Or swim free."
Lyssa nodded silently then nudged Krystel to the front. Krystel crept forward and closed her eyes, listening, smelling and feeling all around her. Slowly she opened her eyes and as a slight breeze picked up she moved forward. Her gentle footsteps muted by the sounds of the foliage moving with the winds. For almost an hour she moved through the green wall as if not there to be noticed by the birds, monkees and other canopy dwellers as they called back and forth to each other.
Finally stopping at the sight of the peak of a thatched roof peeking out, she crouched down and looked back. Lyssa, Tiffany, Shawna and Rodrick all looked back at her with a sense of deep satisfaction.
"Welcome Krystel, a whole new world awaits. See it now. With warrior's eyes," Lyssa said softly then nodded forward.
Tiffany and Shawna crept forward and waited.
Krystel looked back at them then whispered, "Tiff go left and circle around. Shawna go right, if its clear we'll probe inward."
They both nodded and moved out as she crept forward.
"Hot damn. She finally clicked," Rodrick said softly.
LoneStar listened as Pete put the satellite phone on speaker.
"We're on a little detour, investigating deserted villages in the area. People not where they're supposed to be is something that can't be ignored," Rodrick informed them.
"Bout how long of a detour Rod," Pete asked.
"Hopefully not long. Hold on, they're coming back now," Rodrick answered.
"Found a lot 7.62 casings with AK divots in them. All over the place," Tiffany reported.
"I found some blood spatter in a couple of the hooches," Shawna added.
"Tracks are everywhere but inside the village the tracks are really strange, deep and very pronounced but they change directions a lot. What looked like issue boot and hiking boot prints, all other prints look to be made by bare feet," Krystel finished.
Lyssa and Rodrick looked at each other as if speaking telepathically then Rodrick spoke to Pete.
Rodrick said, "I'll get back to you. Stay chilled, but ready to blast off at any time."
Pete replied, "got it boss."
The three trainees glanced back and forth still trying to make sense of the compiled information.
"Ma'am, Sir. What exactly does all this translate into? There's been auto-fire but no structural damage. A little blood but no bodies. What looks like people running around in every direction in a panic, but no exodus," Krystel listed.
"The villagers left Krystel. They walked out of here calmly and in an orderly fashion," Lyssa answered.
"Why would they leave so calmly after all that," Shawna asked.
Rodrick answered, "because the guys with the AK's told them to. If they went along quietly without trouble, they wouldn't be shot."
When the three gave them a blank look of still not understanding Lyssa clarified.
Lyssa said flatly, "It was a round up Ladies. Apparently there's a new coke lord in the area. First thing they do is round up slave labor from the villages in the area for field work. Hunter/gatherer tribes are prime for this. They aren't as noticable as the fishing villages."
Anger reflected in the eyes of all three trainees.
Lyssa finished explaining, "this is a very common practice. You three haven't done drug interdiction work before so its new to you. The Brazilian and Peruvian armies do what they can when they find out about the jungle plantations, but they crop up and fade away before any assault can launched usually. Most of the time its so deep in the jungle the only way to get there is to march in on foot like we are now."
"This happens a lot ladies but there's very little that can be done unless people find out about an operation so a force can be mobilized to take it out. Brazil, Peru, Columbia, Uraguay, Panama. They've all had problems with this. The U.S. military has sent support in from time to time, but down here anybody can become a coke lord with a little initiative and handful of thugs with guns," Rodrick elaborated, "Lyssa and I both have done drug interdiction work. I did Panama and Brazil, she did Columbia and Peru. LoneStar himself has done drug interdiction. He's waxed over ten gunships over the skies of Peru and Mexico alone."
Lyssa nodded but kept her eyes on Shawna. Eyes glittering with anger slowly became filled with hatred and rage.
"This isn't something to be treated lightly. Last time I did something like this I was in a full platoon of DemonWraiths. And we failed," Lyssa spoke with an eerie calmness in her voice, "six soldiers died along with the DEA agent we were going in to rescue."
Rodrick couldn't stay quiet even though he knew he should, "Lyssa spent a week strapped to a chair, another four in the hospital after they got her out. They did it right. By the numbers and it still went FUBAR. The lesson; fight what you can win. fight because there's no choice left."
He was testing them. Would they follow procedure or modify it to the circumstances?
"Somebody should do something for those people," Krystel said.
"We should," Tiffany agreed.
"Wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror if I walked away from this," Shawna said coldly.
Lyssa looked to Rodrick who gave her an almost imperceptable nod. They both knew this would happen. The moral argument wasn't unexpected.
"Ok. Decided. We go in, but let this be absolutley clear. I run this Op and you all will follow orders to the fucking letter or I pull the plug now," Lyssa said coldly.
Tiffany, Shawna and Khrystel answered in unison," Yes Ma'am!"
An hour later Lyssa picked up the outbound track and led the way deeper into the jungle.
CHAPTER 3
Humberto sat at his bedroom desk as the two girls lay in his bed waiting for him as he went over his figures. The payment for the most recent shipment had arrived into his account right on schedule. That pleased him to now reach his halfway mark of fifty million dollars. If he wanted to he could shut down now, kill everyone and retire to an island off the coast of Costa Rica with new, younger girls. He smiled to himself at that prospect. All was going to plan. His cousin in the Brazilian army knew nothing of any new drug fields so all was safe for now.
"Why don't you two start without me and I'll be along in a moment," he chuckled.
The girls looked to each other then hesitantly began kissing each other as he leaned back in his chair watching. They slowly began caressing each other then wandered their kisses. Finally he stood and began to undress as he walked over to bed and gave them instructions for several minutes, then joined in. An hour later they fell asleep.
"Make entry," Lyssa ordered over the radios.
Shawna eased into the tangle of barbed wire and slithered through. They'd watched the drug camp for forty-eight hours to learn its patterns and personnel. One by one everyone signaled with the usual clicking of their mics to signal their progression through the camp. Just as Shawna was about to round a corner a shadow loomed, approaching. She raised her fist, filled with the Fairbarn-Applegate knife and waited. The drug soldier gained the corner and Shawna's hand streaked to his neck.
Before he saw her, much less realized the attack, the serrated blade had sliced deeply through his neck, severing his carotid artery. Instinct made him turn away, spraying the side of the shed with blood as she leapt on him and clamped her hand over his mouth and nose to silence him. After two minutes he stopped struggling.
Shawna clicked her mic three times then moved inside the shed. Two silenced double taps from her pistol took down the two men packing dried powder into bags. She clicked thrice again then planted her incendiary charge on its timer. She saw Krystel approach the prisoners' pen.
Krystel lunged up from the ground, burying her Fairbarne-Applegate's blade up into the guard's head from under his chin using her momentum to power him to the ground and drag the knife's blade sideways out carving through his windpipe and artery. With her hand clamped down over his mouth and nose he thrashed only for a minute then lay still. She had noticed when they were issued their gear initally the knives were different. She and Shawna carried the Fairbarne-Applegate while Tiffany carried a new generation Fairbarne-Sikes. Lyssa carried one of those as well but the knife she preferred looked so strange to them all. Tiffany commented that the knife 'reeked of brutality'. They were told the name of it was Marauder. Krystel didn't know why, but the presence of that knife made Tiffany and Shawna both nervous.
Several of the indians began murmurring to each other in the darkness.
"Shhhhh! Please be quiet," Krystel told them in Portugese.
Immediately they began shushing each other.
Several others began whispering, "the night has come alive and killed him!"
Krystel tried to put authority to her voice, "Silence! Now, or I can not free you from this place!"
Instantly they all fell silent at her order. Krystel sprayed the gate's chain with a can of acid and snapped it.
"Quickly. Go into the jungle and hide. Make no sound or you'll be found by the evil men again," she directed them.
A woman crouched low and hugged Krystel's knees, "please Night Goddess, they have my girl in their house. I beg please do not leave her in there."
Krystel prized the woman from her legs, "She will be freed, but you must go with the others. Now, or all is lost."
The woman slowly began following the others into the tree line.
"Be advised; minimum one friendly in hostile barracks," Krystel whispered over her mic.
She was answered with a series of double-clicks prompting her to make her way to the location. Tiffany and Shawna joined her at the corner of the building followed shortly by Lyssa and Rodrick.
"All northern sentries down," Rodrick reported.
Tiffany whispered, "Roving guards on west side down."
"Roving guards on south side and packing shed personnel down," Shawna also whispered.
"Prisoner guard down and prisoners hiding in the treeline," Khrystel informed them.
"Main house secure," Lyssa told them, "definitely sounds like there's a friendly or two inside here. No need to be quiet about this. Get inside and we all open up at once."
Slowly they all crept inside to the gang-rape in progress. They slipped up to the group surrounding two beds with their backs to the door and leveled their CAR-15's. Lyssa nodded and all five opened up. Cheers and laughter died suddenly in the roar of auto-fire behind the group. All the men had been wearing only underwear or their pants, leaving their chests and back unprotected by vests when the hail of 5.56 rounds tore through them. Most died instantly. Of the twenty, only four were able to move and tried but when the magazines had run dry, pistols were drawn and now held steady aim at the remaining men.
"Freeze," Lyssa commanded in Portugese.
Slowly they raised their hands, the two rapists as well. One girl immediately curled up into a ball on the bed while the other lay still with her eyes tightly shut, both bleeding from between their legs. With a flick of Rodrick's Colt the men moved slowly away to the center of the room.
"Check 'em out," Lyssa ordered in Russian.
Rodrick tried not to smile. He knew why she was using different languages. Just in case there was some form of listening device, whoever heard them speaking would never know they were Americans. From past debriefings he knew this to be true. Drug lords knew it paid to be paranoid. Lyssa knew this as well.
Tiffany and Krystel went quickly to the girls and began looking them over. A sound drew Shawna's attention.
"I thought you said the prisoners went into the treeline," she said in Russian.
"They did. I guess these two backtracked," Krystel answered in Russian then switched to Portuguese telling the girl softly that it was over and she could open her eyes.
The two Indian women came over to the girls and began speaking gently to them, "they have stopped the evil men, we can go home. come, we are free now."
Within moments the girls began crying and slowly allowed their mothers to take them out of the building. One girl stopped at the doorway and looked back. Lyssa circled around behind one of the men and placed her hand on his neck. A minute later he fell and convulsed on the floor then lay dead. Lyssa knew the visual would look magical to the native, but it was merely just a sneaky trick. Pressure on the Carotid artery cut off blood to the brain, which would be immediately damaged from the lack of nutrients and oxygen. Rodrick stepped forward and slammed a punch into another's midsection. The rapist squealed then doubled over trying to catch his breath but slowly sank to the floor with a look of pure panic on his face then began to shake then lay still.
"Come child. Leave the night God and Goddesses to their vengeance. We will pray in thanks as we go home," the mother told the girl and guided her out into the darkness.
* Shawna approached the third man and rammed the heel of her palm to his nose, shattering the bone and making the shrapnel fly into his brain. He fell to the floor thrashing for a moment then died. The last man dove for a pistol and held it to his head pulling the trigger. He fell to the floor with bits of brain and blood pooling on the floor from the hole gaping on the side of his head.
"We got somewhere else to be," Lyssa said in Russian and led them to the main house.
Tiffany listened to Lyssa's instructions in Russian carefully, "Take those two down to the garage. Put them in any vehicle with their clothes and make them drive out. They can get dressed later. They leave now."
Tiffany nodded and took them both out of the bedroom. After the girls' SUV was out of sight she returned.
"Now Humberto, for your sake; you'd have better been telling me the truth," Lyssa said Portuguese with an icy voice.
Humberto stammered, "it is, I swear it!"
Krystel sat at the laptop tapping keys with lightning speed then nodded.
"Very good. Now what's the combination to that safe over there slick," Rodrick asked nudging him.
"How'd they get him to talk," Tiffany whispered Shawna.
"She told him it was her that fed that entire Columbia cartel to Komodo dragons. And described it in detail," Shawna smirked.
"Niiiiiiice," Tiffany drawled.
"The whole balance has been transferred Ma'am," Krystel reported.
Rodrick threw the lever over and pulled the safe open, "well now; smart boy. Told the truth on the first go."
Quickly Rodrick began taking out stacks of banded American and Brazilian bills, stuffing them into the rucksacks. Krystel packed up the laptop into her rucksack along with the money Rodrick handed to her.
Lyssa picked up the satellite phone and waved it casually, "not behind on the bill for this are you?"
Quickly Humberto shook his head.
"Oh good," Lyssa commented and began dialing a number.
When a voice could be heard on the other end she held it close to him then reached over and savagely twisted his genitals making him screech in pain.
"That's good enough for me," she dropped the phone, drew her pistol and said quietly,"Past the gates; before the Devil's throne. I've been to Hell...."
Rodrick leveled his pistol as well, "its your turn now."
Together they both shot him in the torso. The blood coming out looked black.Humberto screamed in pain and looked down as blood soaked into the bedding.
"We're done. It'll take us five days to hump it to the rendevous if we go full out," Lyssa said walking toward the door.
With one last look of anger each, the three followed Lyssa and Rodrick out the door ignoring the voice yelling over the phone for anyone to respond as Humberto went slack from the blood loss and whimpered to be saved.
CHAPTER 4
Dannigan read the after-action report. Seemed that the ladies were indeed winning their spurs steadily. Even Krystel, whom only Lyssa had unshakable faith in. Often in the reports Lyssa stated that Krystel lacked the one true turning point or catalyst that would transform her into the warrior she believed lay hidden inside the young intelligence officer. Apparently that had finally happened.
"Madison," he buzzed.
She answered immediately, "Yes Major?"
"Inform Lyssa that Mission Designators are now approved, but limited to training cycles only," he replied, "Tiffany Davareaux- Steel Dove, Shawna Davies- Ghost Moth and Krystel Evanson- Iron Dolphin. They're approved for arctic training at first opportunity."
"Right away Major. Sir, I just got a message that Katya Taliyenko has a reservation for first class Air Moscow from Moscow to Nassau," she informed him.
"Thank you Madison. I suspect the ticket was paid by a credit card belonging to Lyssa," he replied.
After a pause Madison confirmed, "yes Sir, It was paid with one of her cards."
"Lyssa has a plan I suspect that Katya will be very critical to," Dannigan commented.
"Yes Major," Madison signed off and sent out the message to Kimberly.
Katya could hardly contain her excitement seeing the island for the first time as the black clad pilot known to her as Star spoke calmly over the static, "We're on final Approach Ms. Taliyenko. Welcome to Ram's Rock Island."
"Its so beautiful," Katya replied smiling.
Within moments he set the helicopter down gently on the tarmac in front of a hangar. A minute later Eddie opened the door and guided her out from the rotor span.
He stood up straight and spoke to her, "Ma'am. Lyssa is waiting for you up at the house. Kimberly will take you over in the cart, I'll get your luggage up there shortly."
She thanked him in Russian then caught herself and repeated in english. The mechanic nodded and gestured to the cart now pulling up driven by Kimberly.
"Hi Katya. Hop in," Kimberly called out.
Katya sat next to her smiling as they rode up to the main house.
"Ah! Hello puppy," Katya said when she saw Warlock.
"Wait..." Kimberly said then spoke in german to Warlock," friend. Remember?"
She gestured for Katya to stand still as the belgian shepherd came over and sniffed her then woofed once.
"I forgot, Lyssa's dog is not a pet," Katya commented.
Kimberly reassured her,"Its ok Katya. That's why I met you and brought you up. You can go in now."
Katya thanked her as Kimberly drove back to the airfield and went inside.
"Lyssa," she called out.
Warlock walked ahead of her and looked back then woofed.
"Ah, I follow you to Lyssa," Katya said and followed him.
The Belgian tactical dog went down a hallway then through an open door.
"Lyssa," Katya asked at the doorway.
"c'mon in Katya. Sorry, I had some things to finish," Lyssa answered then came around the desk to hug her friend.
Katya looked down at Lyssa's smooth belly, "Wait. You should show now. Three months, da?"
Lyssa led her out of the study then to the patio and sat down, "That's why I wanted you to come visit me Katya. I need a favor repaid."
Katya took in Lyssa's serious expression and replied, "Of course, anything you ask is yours."
"I'm not actually pregnant," she said flatly.
Katya's jaw dropped, "Oh no Lyssa! You lose baby? We were all so happy for you."
Lyssa shook her head, "no Katya. I didn't lose the baby. I was never pregnant to begin with."
Katya became confused, "but the article said. They said YOU said you were pregnant. Having to stop dancing. It is not true?"
Lyssa fixed Katya with her steel colored eyes, "the article is a lie but not their lie. The lie is mine. I lied to them."
The Russian dancer shook her head, "this is very confusing Lyssa. what is true? If you tell me, I will believe it. Favors you have done for me. Favors when I have none to ask for."
Lyssa looked at her friend steadily then said, "come with me Katya. Harden your heart and come with me."
Lyssa led the way into the infirmary. All the medical equipment and fixtures didn't go unnoticed by the Russian ballerina.
"You have hospital here," Katya asked suddenly apprehensive.
"We have to be prepared for anything so we have this in case of injury or sickness," Lyssa explained.
Lyssa took her further back to a closed door then opened it and beckoned her inside. Katya saw a woman lying on a bed surrounded by numerous machines and stepped closer.
"DEAR HEAVEN! HELENA," Katya screamed.
Lyssa said nothing as the Russian dancer looked over the comatose girl several times in shock. With shaking hands she reached out and gingerly touched Helena's forehead then pulled her hand back to cover her mouth.
"Yes," Lyssa said quietly, "its Helena."
Katya leaned down and stroked her hair, "Helena? Its me, Katya. Lyssa has brought me. Will you not wake up?"
After a few moments she looked to Lyssa who's eyes never wavered.
"She can't wake up Katya. She's in a coma and will never come back to us," Lyssa said.
Katya looked again and then she noticed the swelled belly.
"Oh God Lyssa no! Please tell me Helena is not pregnant. She can not be pregnant like this," Katya stammered.
"Recently we were in the Balkans. A village was supposed to be deserted. It wasn't. We found a building with many women. Helena was there, as you see her now. The others were too. She has no family to claim her and I refused to ignore her so we brought her here. She is pregnant Katya, with twins. She was surgically put into this coma and then impregnated. She didn't choose this," Lyssa recounted.
Katya looked up, "someone. Someone forced her this way?"
Lyssa looked deep into the pale blue eyes and nodded. Katya stood there for a minute staring at Lyssa in horror then shivered. Katya bolted for the door covering her mouth with her hand and ran outside to fall down the steps, landing in the sand. Quickly she crawled a few more feet and began retching. Lyssa rushed out and tried to hold Katya as the dancer tried to scream as the heaving continued and began choking.
"STOP KATYA! STOP IT! THIS ISN'T DOING EITHER OF YOU ANY GOOD," Lyssa demanded.
"Please Lyssa! I'll do anything for you forever! Don't let this happen to her," Katya begged crying.
Lyssa turned her and used her own blouse to wipe Katya's face, "it's done. I can't change it. This is one of those times I hate to admit there are some things I can't do."
Katya pleaded,"NO! Its not right Lyssa! Please do something. You help us all. You can do anything! Please help her. We'll raise money and find doctors. Everyone will do what you tell us to! Please Lyssa?"
Lyssa shook her head, "I've already paid a doctor. All that can be done for Helena has been and is being done."
Lyssa held Katya as she sagged against her sobbing.
"Ma'am? Can I help," Krystel asked.
"Get your cart. We'll take her back up to the house," Lyssa answered.
"Nyet Lyssa! I must know who did this to Helena and where they are. If money will not help Helena, then money will make sure they are punished for what they did to her! We will all give for Helena," Katya insisted.
"Spits fire, your hellcat there," Krystel smiled.
The smile dropped at Lyssa's cold look of disapproval.
"Escort her to the classroom, I'll be there in a minute," Lyssa ordered.
Khrystel stood at attention and saluted, "Aye Ma'am!"
As Lyssa walked toward the hangars Krystel helped Katya up and walk to the classroom trailer.
"I meant no disrespect Ms. Taliyenko," Krystel apologized as they went inside.
"Apologize to Lyssa. The look she gave you; disappointment, not anger. I have seen anger. A look you wish not to see ever again," Katya stated.
Krystel had no reply for that comment. Lyssa walked in a moment later carrying a disc.
"Out," she snapped.
Krystel saluted and bolted for the door, "Aye Ma'am!"
Katya sat silently and watched as Lyssa loaded the disc and slowly felt horror after the video started and was narrated by Lyssa standing behind her. Finally with tears streaming down her face Katya turned to look at Lyssa.
"I am STUPID girl," she choked out.
"Far from it. Why would you say that," Lyssa asked.
"I asked once that when we dance no more that you share secrets with me. Always I knew, somehow, you were dangerous. I pretend that I don't know you killed for Ekaterina. I pretend that you asked me to trade places in Zurich because you wanted to dance there to be seen. Do not tell me Lyssa! If you tell me secrets then I know you will never dance again," Katya said frightened.
Lyssa sat on the table in front of her and took her hands, "Katya I need to take time off. I have my reasons. This is the plan. I announced pregnancy. That will give most people the reason not to ask me to come. For others I need another reason. Pay attention because this is where you help me. You tell people that I am pregnant and very happy, but have a problem. Gestational diabetes. Its common enough that most people have heard of it. Sometimes during pregnancy the mother becomes diabetic but goes back to normal after the baby. That will stop people from asking me to come dance and walk shows but not so serious they try to come see me. Understand now?"
"Lyssa. why," Katya asked.
"The babies. They will be in danger if anybody finds out about them. Someone wanted those babies to be conceived and if they find out where they are they'll be in danger. No one must know the truth except us and the doctor. We must say that they are my babies Katya, not even they can ever know this secret," Lyssa explained.
"What about Helena," Katya asked.
Lyssa shook her head, "Katya she stopped being our friend. They destroyed her brain on purpose. She's dead, her body doesn't understand that. They damaged her brain and put her body on machines so they could make babies. To keep her like that after the babies are born would be the cruelest thing we could do."
"Helena will die," Katya sniffed.
Lyssa gave Katya a gentle look, "She died before they made her pregnant. All she needs now is to be told goodbye by her friend."
"Will it hurt her? Will she be scared," Katya asked.
Lyssa hugged her, "No. I promise it will be the kindest thing we can do for her. You will be their godmother. Their aunt Katya."
"Da Lyssa, I will do this. For the babies," Katya replied wiping her eyes," They will at least know that they are loved without doubt."
Lyssa nodded, "the plan is set then. Come, we have much to practice.And as for who did this to Helena; they no longer exist. What we didn't find out was who the people were that wanted the babies."
Katya nodded and followed Lyssa back outside as the sun's light faded.
Book 39 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
training continues on all fronts arctic training goes sideways and becomes a search and rescue mission. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
CHAPTER 1
"Nyet Tiffany. Again," Katya said flatly.
Tiffany returned to her first position calmly and began again. The Russian Prima watched her intently then called her down again.
"Nyet. Still you do not get it. Your steps must fluid and tamborine strike punctual. Is like speaking. Words flow until the sentence ends. Maria Kotchekova perform best Esmeralda Variation until Lyssa. You must be better. Better than me. Better than Lyssa. You are new and we are old," Katya encouraged, "Prima title will not come to you Tiffany. You must earn it from us. Many wish for it all their lives; and never get."
"Its very hard to get it Prima Katya. My body resists the movement," Tiffany sighed.
"Nyet Tiffany. You can not allow yourself to think so. You must wish with all that you are. If Lyssa can, you can. She choose you to take her place. In you she sees greatness. You may not but she does. I see you try hard, but fight yourself. Do not fight Tiffany. Be. You can be, so just be. All will come to its place but first you must let go of fight," Katya said pointedly," Save fight for evil. Lyssa does, so can you and be even better."
Once again Tiffany began the routine and made it almost halfway through before Katya stopped her.
"Tiffany, you must enjoy this or is just work for you. I have idea. Close your eyes. Da. Now dream of dance. In your head see the dream. A story you tell with your body. Speak it gentle. speak soft. Speak sweet then not. Speak, speak. I need word. Mischief. Mischievous attitude but still good girl," Katya grasped in her vocabulary.
Tiffany chuckled, "you mean sassy."
Katya giggled, "Da. Sassy. Gentle, soft, sweet then sassy and all over again. Variation is beautiful but fun dance."
Tiffany went back to her starting position and began again, steadily she went through the routine.
Katya smiled, "Da. Da. Now look down and up, tell story. Da. Now sassy to one person, look at person. Always happy, pleased to be doing. Da."
"Kind of like a burlesque," Tiffany mused.
"Burlesque? I don't know it," Katya said puzzled.
"You know. The old striptease dancers. Sometimes they used big feathered fans," Tiffany explained.
Katya smiled, "Da! Now you get. Always sweet, always nice but for second be naughty girl."
They both laughed at that.
"Well. Sounds like progress in here," Lyssa said walking in.
"Tiffany understands now. The rest is practice, practice, practice," Katya praised.
"In ancient times the samurai believed that there must always be balance. For anger there must be happiness. For Love there must be hate. For violence there must be art. The greatest of them were more than skilled fighters. They were also accomplished artisans. Painters, poets, even landscapers and florists. The most formidable samurai made the most exquisite floral arrangements. It was considered a martial art. The best of those designed palace gardens and courtyards. They had to be aesthetically pleasing yet have strategic and tactical advantage," Lyssa explained.
"Da. This is what you must be Tiffany. Like that," Katya agreed, "The artist. The soldier. One and the other, both together."
Lyssa was very pleased with Katya's attitude at the revelation of her true nature. The balance of deadly grace. Katya even made the joke calling Lyssa 'The dancing assassin'. As Tiffany left Katya stared into space for a moment.
"What is it Katya," Lyssa asked.
Katya shook her head then said, "for days now I think."
Lyssa put the tamborines away, "What about?"
"Us," Katya said,"Our friendship. Always you push me forward. Make sure I get good things while you hide behind me when bright lights shine. Sometimes I think things that I have not earned yet you make sure i get anyway. Favors. Lyssa's favors."
Lyssa looked at Katya's reflection in the wall mirror, "you think you may not have earned but you deserve them. You work hard and never forget or take for granted anything."
"I wonder sometimes, would I be this way if not for you. Would I be spoiled and demanding like Irena was? Would I do bad things like she tried with us," Katya pondered.
Lyssa looked at her intently, "would have, could have, should have. No one will ever know how things WOULD HAVE turned out if we COULD HAVE done things differently if in hindsight we SHOULD HAVE. I didn't choose you Katya. You were there as was I. That was our common ground and based on that i looked and saw you for what you were and still are. A wonderful girl that loved to dance and treasures friendship with that heart of pure solid gold of yours. How could I not want to be friends and later on how could I not want to protect you?"
Katya smiled, "Lyssa the Ghost, the Legend. Little girls in their first pointe shoes dream to be you. Ekaterina still tells of you re-teaching her to dance and they all wish and hope you come back to Bolshoi."
"All things in their proper time Katya and there are many things to do," Lyssa said sagely.
"Still Lyssa I think of Helena. She had such hopes. Hopes I had. When I think longer about her, I think it could have been me. Me lying there in the bed and her in front of you. Lyssa please think not bad of me; sometimes I am glad it is not me in there. I know is not nice. Is selfish of me but I think sometimes."
Lyssa waited as Katya unlaced her pointe shoes and walked outside then down to the beach with her.
"Katya I won't lie to you; yes it could have easily been you. Or Ekaterina. Or any of the other girls we know. Actually its natural to be glad it isn't you. Its not wrong and I don't think less of you for it. I told you things went bad for me once. Before I became a dancer," Lyssa said.
"Da. You were soldier. Caught by very bad men. They did horrible things to you for a long time," Katya recounted the abbreviated tale.
"Yes. Others died in front of me. Murdered in front of me. Many times I wished it had been me that was killed and them in the chair alive. Suffering. Instead of me," Lyssa said matter-of-factly.
They stopped walking and stared out to sea.
"Many times I fear for you. That one favor be too much to ask, you get hurt or worse. Now you tell me secrets and I think even worse now. So many favors. Dangerous favors. And now I make friends with Tiffany and Krystel and Shawna. Will they try to do favor too much to ask one day? I admit that though I was happy you meet Rodrick, at first I think he would try to take you away. I was wrong to think he might hurt you or make you unhappy. I see that happen to so many. I fear for you that would happen," the Russian Prima admitted.
Lyssa shrugged, "and now?"
"Now I sometimes hope he make you stop favors. Please don't be mad for thinking Lyssa," Katya asked.
Lyssa smiled, "I love you too Katya. One day I will stop doing my favors, but for now I still have things to do. Think happier thoughts Katya. After all, I have more people to help me now if I need it."
"Not so much danger though. The babies need you Lyssa. Do not forget them," Katya said firmly.
Lyssa chuckled, "Kitten you can stop worrying."
Katya smiled as she hugged her friend. The use of her nickname wasn't lost. Together they walked back towards the hangars.
Rodrick looked over the schedule,"Kimberly how's the time frame for the Canada field exercise?"
Kimberly brought over the printout, "Looks good for now but the weather is your only situation. It can go crazy anytime and last for who knows how long. I know you guys would like some extreme weather during the cycle but you could get socked in for over a week Rod. We can't get you resupplied or extracted if it gets really bad."
Rodrick leaned back in his chair, "that's a chance we have to take Kimberly. No sure thing in this business. Sometimes you just gotta roll with what you got and find a way to work it out."
"The more extreme and realistic the training; the more comfortable everybody'll be with them out in the field. I get it; just not crazy about it," Kimberly said.
"Yeah well, not everybody gets a sweet office job that they can come to work in a bikini and high heels and not worry about their hair and make-up going to shit," Pete chuckled.
"I'd like to see you try it," Kimberly commented snarkily.
Rodrick laughed, "I'D PAY MONEY TO SEE IT!!!!!"
Carl walked in, "what we paying money to see?"
"Pete, in one of my bikinis and heels doing office work," Kimberly giggled.
"Oh man! Fuck, I'm scarred for life now. Gee thanks K-chick," Carl winced," Boss can I like, go hang out in Nassau for a month? I gotta find a way to get that image outta my head. Visuals from hell, fuuuuuuck."
Kimberly still giggled, "don't worry Carl. I wouldn't loan him the purple one."
"Cool. 'cuz you look sooooo hot in that one," Carl oozed.
"Who looks hot in what," LoneStar asked walking in, "everything's ready to send to the DARPA dweebs."
Rodrick replied, "cool. Money in the bank."
Kimberly stood up and let LoneStar sit in her chair then sat on his lap, "We're gonna put Pete in a bikini and heels to do office work."
Lonestar mocked a shiver and muttered from within the helmet, "nah, that ain't fucking scary."
Pete threw the file folder at LoneStar as Kimberly giggled, "the hell with you all, it won't happen. Assholes."
Lyssa and Katya walked in followed by Warlock," What isn't happening?"
"Kimberly's trying to put Pete into a thong bikini and heels on 'office day'," Rodrick commented.
"Is joke or serious," Katya asked Lyssa.
Everyone laughed as Pete rolled his eyes.
"Oh, is joke. Good. I think Pete not have butt for thong," Katya said.
Rodrick laid his head on the desktop laughing and Kimberly almost slipped to the floor laughing.
"Aw shit. The visual is back and worse than ever. Boss! Nassau today. PLEASE! I need a lot of alcohol now," Carl mocked whining.
Rodrick calmed his laughter enough to say, "ok. Pete, take Carl to Nassau."
"Whoa wait! Why do I gotta ride with Tinkerbell? Why can't Darth Vader take me," Carl protested.
LoneStar threw a notepad at the Californian, "quit callin' me that."
They all laughed as Pete grumbled until the beeper on LoneStar's belt went off making Kimberly jump up to allow him to tear from the office. a minute later his cold voice called out over the speakers.
"Inbound Helo. CLEAR THE PAD," Lonestar announced
Everyone walked down to the doors as a Bell 222 came in fast then hovered down to land.
CHAPTER 2
"Ram's Rock Island gentlemen," the Pilot announced.
The two SEALs climbed out and ran crouched out from under the rotorspan then stood to slowly walk toward the main hangar.
"Huck? Banker? What the fuck," Rodrick asked as he saw them closer.
"Hey. Sorry to drop in but we gotta talk," Banker said stepping close and shaking hands.
Huck shook hands as well then turned fast hearing the feminine russian voice squeal,"Huckleberry!"
They all laughed as he barely caught the ballerina who had launched herself at him. After kissing both her cheeks then hugs from Lyssa and Kimberly Huck turned to Rodrick, "We gotta talk."
Everyone went into the sitting area inside the hangar below the office.
"What's up, you two don't just drop in to grope a ballerina and hassle me," Rodrick commented.
Banker gave him a flat look, "Its Jumps."
Katya echoed in puzzlement, "Jumps?"
Rodrick replied, "Jimmy 'Jumps' Jantzen. A former teammate. Last I heard he was in Alaska."
"He is, and in a world of shit," Banker commented.
"Baby, isn't he the one that does the tourist glacier treks or something like that," Lyssa asked sitting on the corner of Rodrick's desk.
Rodrick nodded to her then asked the two former teammates, "what makes you think he's in trouble?"
Huck answered, "We were all getting together and he was supposed to call us to confirm his arrival time. That was five days ago. We checked with everybody including the resident Nasty-girls. Doggy Army and the Hair Farce and even civil air patrol. Nobody's seen nothing of him. We gotta hurry and get up there because a storm is closing in."
LoneStar asked in his usual cold voice, "what kind of wreckage is there?"
Banker looked over, "That's the problem; no wreckage. He's disappeared completely. Nobody wants to look for him because he's out, you know how it is."
They all nodded. It was a familiar problem. Once a person is out of the military, even units as elite as SEALs very few really cared. Especially if they weren't a risk to the public. Those that adjusted slipped through the cracks a lot more than the ones with chronic problems.
Kimberly noticed the slight nods from Lyssa then Rodrick and returned it then left the room.
"Sorry to bust up whatever domestic shit you two got planned Lyssa but its a teammate," Banker said.
"We'll help Buck," She smiled.
"We? What you mean 'we' Lyssa," Huck asked as he and Banker traded glances.
Rodrick picked up his extension when it beeped,"Yeah? James Jantzen. From Denali. Ok."
He hung up, "guys its gonna be a little while for Kimberly to find anything. Hit the head if you need to."
Banker nodded and left the room.
Katya tugged at Huck's arm and asked in Russian,"walk with me?"
Huck stood and walked out holding her hand.
"I haven't called you lately Katya, I'm sorry. I said I would, things got busy after the wedding for me and Banker," Huck apologized.
"I understand, we have right now to walk and talk, nyet," she asked.
Huck smiled," yeah. We have right now. How are things for you?"
"I come to visit Lyssa and since here, I help train her understudy. Tiffany will go to Julliard in New York first then Bolshoi in Moscow after. She must be on her own. Lyssa can not introduce or opinions will not be good for Tiffany," Katya explained as they walked.
"I don't understand. If she's Lyssa's understudy then why can't Lyssa make introductions for her," Huck asked.
The Russian dancer shook her head, "does not work that way. Tiffany must work hard. If Lyssa introduce her then some may not be fair to her. She earns what she earns, not given anything because of Lyssa. Many owe Lyssa, and they may think that by being overly nice and go easy on Tiffany settles debt. Maybe even swing more to them. Lyssa and Tiffany not want that. Lyssa has her favors she earn herself. Tiffany must earn as Lyssa did, working very hard with no help."
They turned a corner around a trailer and found themselves staring at a black belgian shepherd that stood and growled once.
"Oh no. We are not supposed to be here," Katya said softly," maybe we back away slow."
"I'm not worried about a dog Katya," Huck commented.
"No. Lyssa's dog is not pet. Warlock guards things. We aren't supposed to be here because he is," Katya whispered.
"Did you say Warlock? That dog's name is Warlock," Huck asked quickly.
"Da. Warlock. He used to be war dog but belongs to Lyssa now," Katya answered.
"Oh fuck me," Huck said and began to slowly try backing them both away from the tactical dog.
"Warlock knows I am friend, but you are different. He is not supposed to hurt me, but we are not supposed to be here," Katya explained.
"No Katya. That's Warlock. That dog HAS no friends. Its crazy. A killer that won't stop even if shot," Huck eyed the dog as they reached the corner and eased around.
With the same slowness they moved further away. The Belgian tactical dog didn't follow.
"Huck, is all good now. We are fine," Katya said.
"No Katya. All is not good. That was Warlock. There's a reason he isn't in combat anymore. That dog is unstable," Huck stated rushing them back to the hangar.
As they approached they could see Lyssa talking with three women who turned and left.
"Whoa sailor. where's the fire," Lyssa asked chuckling.
"Are you fuckin' nuts," Huck demanded.
"Debatable. Why," Lyssa asked calmly.
"You have Warlock here. Warlock the Special Forces tactical dog," Huck said hotly.
"Ok; few people know who he is and even fewer know he's here but, yes," Lyssa answered, "your point?"
"I know for a fact that dog is listed as dead. Was transported back stateside to be put down. My question is: when did you go completely fucking nuts and save his ass," Huck all but shouted.
Huck then noticed Rodrick casually leaning against the door watching.
"Be a pretty damn good idea to check that tone sailor and re-develope a quick case of act right," Lyssa warned in a flat voice.
"Stay outta this Rod," Huck said hotly glancing over.
"oh I'm just gonna stand here and take bets on exactly how fast she rips you apart. You are about to cross a line that you can't go back. Last chance buddy," Rodrick said casually.
"Bullshit," Huck started but was cut off by the kick Lyssa snapped.
Katya watched Lyssa's foot catching him under the chin and lifting him up several inches before throwing him back.
"FUCK THAT! ITS ON," Huck bellowed.
"NYET HUCK! Lyssa please don't hurt him bad," Katya shrieked.
"Your bitch better run Rod," Huck growled advancing as Lyssa stood casually.
"I'll put five grand on Lyssa. Any takers," Rodrick asked sounding bored.
Huck glanced at Rodrick in genuine shock but quickly re-focused on Lyssa.
"No way I'd bet against Lyssa," Pete commented.
"I'll see your nickel and kick up a grand that says she'll play around for three minutes then cripple him for practice," Kimberly offered.
"I make no joke, I have three hundred rubles to bet. Lyssa does not play, she kills in two minutes," Katya said softly looking down as if ashamed to say anything.
Rodrick looked over, "I'll take that bet Katya. I'll give you three to one odds and use Euros to your rubles. Lyssa kills in three minutes."
Lyssa didn't even look away or change the casual expression, "I'll spot Katya a million for that bet. In any currency she chooses."
Rodrick looked thoughtful for a moment then answered, "Its Katya so ok, you're on. A mill at three to one. Katya says two minutes Isay three and a half. Go ahead Huck. Do your best to stay alive for longer than two minutes. If that's even possible."
Banker had heard the entire exchange, "WHAT THE FUCK?"
"Our good and stupid friend Huck is about to get waxed. Tick tock Huck. The clock is running. Twenty seconds," Rodrick called out.
Banker started to move and felt a vise-like hand clamp down on his neck and a slightly muffled yet icy voice, "best stand back, you're safer not getting into that mix."
Banker spun and came face to visor with LoneStar.
"Hands off asshole," Banker hissed.
LoneStar squeezed and the former SEAL's body locked from the nerve pinch and dropped to his knees, "call me whatever you want but I'm increasing your life expectancy."
All watched as Lyssa slowly advanced silently then flicked her wrist forward. Huck tapped it and spun in to power a backfist. Lyssa had already pivoted and was ramming her left knee upward off center-right of his back. Huck yelped from the pain lancing through his kidney and was distracted as Lyssa spun with another kick that all but took his head off, slamming him to the tarmac. Lyssa stayed on him, not even allowing him the moment to voice anything as she slammed an elbow just above his ear then a chop at his collarbone.
Huck made the mistake of looking up. *Lyssa slammed the heel of her palm down at his forehead. He felt all the vertebrae in his neck compress and felt locked. She stepped back then advanced again.
"The fuck. Did you. Do to me," Huck labored out struggling to move and couldn't.
"Time," Lyssa asked softly looking at him intently.
"seventy-two seconds. And counting," Kimberly answered.
"We'll wait," Lyssa replied.
Katya turned around to face away, "keep money Rodrick. I don't want to win. I'll go get rubles. I don't want to watch Lyssa do this."
Quickly the Russian ballerina walked away toward the house.
Lyssa stood behind Huck, "you're the luckiest fuck on the planet. If you EVER piss me off again; I'll revoke that elite status. Permanently."
Carefully Lyssa brought an uppercut-type punch to the base of his skull. They all heard a loud crackle and he fell over, spasm-ed twice then groaned.
Jimmy shivered in the glacial cave and looked at his pack. He had fourteen MRE's left. The rescue radio sat in it too but he wasn't about to use it. Never in his life had Jimmy ever dreamed Chechen terrorists would use his beloved Alaska as a training ground for some type of winter strikes. They had armed themselves to the teeth and all he had was the one ten millimeter pistol and three clips of hollow-points in case of the odd wolf or bear. Winter was dead-set making the ice safe but that was a double-edged sword. Stable ice meant that temperatures plummeted and stayed below freezing.
Mentally he kicked himself for making sure they had all the necessary gear to survive for a month out here. All he had was enough for two weeks if he stretched it.Huck and Banker had expected a call from him but he couldn't really be sure they'd realize something was definitely wrong and take some action. If he had a satellite phone he could call for help from over a dozen people but he'd never thought the expense was worth it.
Grimly he muttered to himself, "brilliant thinking. I swear if I ever get outta this; I'll get one of those damn phones. Make plans double clear from now on too, dumbass."
Jimmy looked up to the dark sky," God? If you're there, I could really use some help about now. I fought the good fight, never backed down and only hated once. I'm pretty much fucked forty-two ways from sunday down here. I know this ain't no church-goin' type prayin' but its what I got and I don't think you'd be the type to care about fancy fifty dollar words that don't mean nothin'. If you can't get anybody to come then do me a big favor. Make this shit quick. These types never heard of the Geneva convention and even if they had; they wouldn't care. A little mercy if you can swing that. Amen."
A cloud passed in front of the moon and a single beam filtered down to shine on him at the entrance to the cave.
"I sure hope that's an answer to the positive," Jimmy muttered.
He then pulled out the packet of peanut butter he had warmed next to his body, squeezed some onto a cracker and munched quickly before it froze again.
A shadow loomed to front of the cave.
Jimmy hunched down more and whispered to himself, "c'mon anybody. Come bail my ass out before I become polar bear bait."
CHAPTER 3
Lyssa went over the final check list with Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel as Katya sat quietly.
"That's everything," she remarked, "wheels up in three-zero mikes."
"Ma'am," Shawna asked.
When Lyssa nodded she continued, "What about Rodrick's SEAL buddies, how are we going to operate with them around?"
Lyssa answered, "We'll be working away from them. They'll take one quadrant and we'll take another. Objective is to rendezvous at a point in between. We'll explore every nook and cranny between his last known position and the projected flight path. They'll start at last known and we'll start at the end of his range and work our way together. Somewhere in between is their guy, if no joy on the straight and true then we'll break off and go sideways in opposite directions. LoneStar and Carl will stay on station close by with the C-130 using the drones to resupply us if needed and provide aerial recon. Anything else?"
"No Ma'am," they answered.
Lyssa nodded, "gear up. We got places to go and things to do."
The old Special Forces phrase rang true. The three saluted and moved out.
"Lyssa, you take Warlock with you," Katya finally asked.
"No. Its too cold up there now and he'll freeze. We're not using sleds either. All of us will be on foot to search. That brings us back to you Katya. You can't go with us, can either stay here or Kimberly can take you back to Nassau to go anywhere you want," Lyssa answered," if we can't find him or his body in two weeks we'll shut down and return."
"I would like to stay if is ok," Katya replied.
"Its fine, enjoy the time here. We'll sure be missing it in a few hours there,"Lyssa replied with a laugh.
Katya laughed too, "ok. If anybody ask, I tell I am driving you crazy fussing over you and playing on the beach."
Lyssa nodded then they both walked out to go over to the hangar to get Lyssa's gear and board the plane.
Banker checked the compass and map.
"What the fuck Jimmy sees in this damn place is beyond me," Huck shivered.
"He's from here. Unlike us. You like woods, Banker digs beaches and you assholes used to call me 'Swamp-Thing'. Jimmy loves the snow and ice," Rodrick reminded them.
Pete looked around, "can have it. I'll take islands and tropics any day over this. Its just as bad or worse than the desert."
"Well, we're now in his flight path unless he went sideways. Man I hope we find him quick so we can all get back down to Cali," Banker stated.
"Amen brother," Huck commented and took his turn on point, "when this is done, me and you gonna talk about that psycho-bitch of yours Rod."
"Call my wife that again and I'll turn her loose on you. On an island. All by yourselves; for a week. You got that," Rodrick demanded.
"The only thing crazier than her is that dog! I can't believe you'd allow her to have it around," Huck growled.
Rodrick slammed his fist into Huck's jaw fast and totally by surprise. Huck looked up forcing his eyes not to roll back and saw the Colt ten millimeter leveled at him.
"What is; is. Get used to it and fuckin' like it or when this is done; so are we," Rodrick said in a voice as cold as the snow they stood in.
"Fine! Done! After we get Jimmy," Huck snarled, "Banker?"
Banker stood still and sighed, "the team split once before and it was because of Kagan and his bullshit. They tried to drag me into it then. I said fuck that. I still say fuck that. Both of you are my friends and its gonna stay that way."
Huck turned and stomped his way forward to lead the party on course. Rodrick simply nodded. The formation fanned out to two hundred meters apart as a picket line moving forward searching for any sign of plane, crash or survivors for three days until they did find the wreckage of the crash-landed plane. Rodrick quietly called Kimberly over the satellite comm and she patched through to Lyssa and LoneStar.
Rodrick reported, "We found the plane. Crash landed along the flightpath. No bodies in the wreckage."
"We have to assume then that they are trying to self rescue," Lyssa replied.
Kimberly informed them, "I have your positions. You two are almost a hundred miles apart."
"ok. LoneStar send the drones to fly a search pattern between us with a hundred miles off each side of center," Rodrick instructed.
The calm voice answered, "redirecting now. I need to recall the drones for a supply drop?"
Lyssa answered," we're good here."
"We're good for the next twenty-fours hours," Rodrick also replied.
"Copy by two," LoneStar stated then closed the comm.
Twelve hours later the satcom bleeped twice.
Rodrick answered it, "this is unit two, go."
The calm voice of LoneStar answered, "found something. Infra-red picked up some heat signatures. about eight total."
Kimberly chimed in, "Jantzen's flight manifest listed eight passengers. I ran the names and things are definitely way off."
"How so," Rodrick asked after signalling the others with his flashlight.
"one is the ID of a black man dead for twelve years, another is supposed to be an elderly man in assisted living, etc.," Kimberly answered, "fortunately your guy has a security camera and its hooked up to the internet so I accessed the server and used face rec. I don't know how these guys got anywhere near the U.S. without all kinds of warnings going off."
Rodrick had already switched to speaker as had Lyssa for the others to listen in.
"Kim, who are they really,"Lyssa asked.
After a moment Kimberly answered with a sigh, "one is a chechen tango called Palo. Guys, your guy Jimmy is a friend but it doesn't look good. This is a bunch that you'd like throw into Columbian jungles and pay the cartels. They make Pablo Escobar seem like Captain Kangaroo. Bin Laden was cute and fuzzy compared to these guys. They're trying to take the ultimate bad-guy title from ISIS."
"That's about right," Banker commented sarcastically.
"Are all them on the watch lists or just the one Kimberly," Shawna asked.
"All are on watch lists but only Palo has a bounty of sorts on him," Kimberly answered.
"Who and what," Huck asked.
Kimberly replied, "Russians want him for several public massacres and the french want him too for an embassy bombing. they want a live body for both places."
Dannigan cut in, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you can take Palo and crew alive; do so. He's more useful as a bargaining chip with the Russians than a french pay off. Good hunting."
Lyssa and Rodrick both replied,"copy that."
LoneStar then called out the coordinates to Lyssa and Rodrick for them to vector in on the site.
"One other thing," LoneStar added, "I have the drones recalled to pick up a resupply package for both teams. drop in five hours. Wait, hold up. shit. where'd it go?"
"what the hell happened? Did he lose a drone," Huck asked.
"Negative. I saw something, looked like a heat source. Stand by, I'm coming back around," LoneStar said then muttered," better not be some fucking animal hibernating again."
"oh hell, I am not about to go wake up some bear LoneStar," Tiffany commented.
"Standby," LoneStar ordered then moments later came back, "I have another heat signature and its looking very human. alone. just inside an ice cave. manuvering in for an angle. visual coming up. Blue parka, gold edging. position is...closer to you Ramrod."
"Copy that send me the coordinates," Rodrick replied.
LoneStar called out the grid to Rodrick then confirmed the other grid for Lyssa's team.
"Get your guy if that's him and we'll go after the group. Northern out," Lyssa signed off.
"Roger that, Southern out," Rodrick signed off as well.
Both teams set out again moving at a faster speed than before.
"Star are you still up on the line," Dannigan asked.
"yeah," came the calm answer.
" I'll catch a flight out and meet you all at Fort Wainwright. I'll need to have a little chat with Rodrick's buddies and see about transporting our bad guys," Dannigan informed him.
"Works for us I believe," LoneStar replied.
Kimberly closed the comm.
"Can they pull this off Major," Madison asked.
"Depends. If these guys have been doing serious arctic training then our people have their work cut out for them. So far all intel says that Palo and his cronies have been hanging out in eastern block Europe for the past six months after that french embassy bombing. The bigger concern is Rodrick's SEAL buddies. They've gotten a glimpse of us and I need to make sure they keep their mouths shut about it. Kimberly mentioned the one 'Huck' and Lyssa mixing it up in front of the hangar," Dannigan said.
"Think he'll be a serious problem," Madison asked.
"If he does Lyssa has no qualms about solving that problem. She'll shoot him in front of everybody just to make the point clear that there will be no loose talk about them," Dannigan said gravely.
Madison nodded then went back to her desk.
CHAPTER 4
Palo watched as the men explored a crevass. they'd been looking for their pilot and guide since the crash. He'd seen the weapons and explosives they were going to be training with. The man turned out to be a navy SEAL. Now Palo knew why he had come highly recommended by so many. The plans for attacking banks in Switzerland and Finland would not work if they didn't find and kill him so they could finish their training. So far no reports of searches had been filed according to his contact. He checked in daily with a satellite phone. when they were ready the contact would hire another pilot to pick them up. The men were climbing back out of the crevass.
"Hurry up! If we can survive this long he surely can," Palo yelled at his men.
when they had all climbed out the repacking of the ropes and various other mountain and ice climbing gear took several minutes to complete.
"Brother, the American is long dead and frozen by now. Let us commit to the training so we can go to our targets," one of the men said.
"Fool! The American is one of their navy commandos and he is from here. He can outlast us all with only the clothing he wears. He must be found and killed," Palo ordered.
"AS GOD'S SWORD," they all yelled.
Suddenly white forms erupted from the snow spitting flame. Autofire roared as his men began to fall screaming into the snow. For several heartbeats nothing made sense. what was happening around him? Finally as his last man fell bleeding into the snow he drew his gun and brought it to his temple.
"I GO TO YOU MY GOD," he yelled.
A single shot rang out. Instead of lush gardens surrounding him; Palo still saw white snow stained red from his men's blood. Instead of the promised great house; he still felt the gnawing bitter cold. Instead of the reward of seventy-two beautiful virgins; all he had was the seven writhing bodies of his wounded men and the four snow demons with assault rifles bearing down on him. One approached him as he fell to his knees.
A honey sweet feminine voice said, "Past the gates; before the throne. I've been to Hell Palo. I'm taking you somewhere much worse."
She slammed the butt of the rifle to his head and he fell over unconscious.
JImmy's shivering hands tried to strike the match to light the compressed tablet.
"C-c'mon. Light, you shitbird cockbreath matches," he stammered from the cold.
Outside he heard a voice call out, "This is gotta be the one. The only cave within three meters of the coordinates."
Jimmy's cold fuddled mind took a few moments to form a reaction. With his teeth he yanked the glove off and fumbled to bring out his pistol. Shivers wracked down his arm as he tried to aim at the entrance of the cave.
"Jimmy! Hey Jimmy! You in there? We're coming in," a voice yelled.
Jimmy tried to yell back but all he could do was stammer, "ar-ar-armed. d-d-d-don't come c-c-closer."
Jimmy tried to squeeze off a warning shot, unstable ice be damned, but his fingers wouldn't flex. Slowly a dark blurry shape came into view and a bright beam flashed, blinding him.
"Shhhhhoot yyyyou. Ba-back offffffffff," he tried to yell but was so tired and cold he could barely whisper it.
"JIMMY? Hey JIMMY! its us man. don't fire," one of the blurry shapes called out, "Its Banker man."
"Its me Ramrod Jimmy, we found you. PETE! HUCK! GET IN HERE! You're safe man. You're gonna be ok," Rodrick said.
Huck saw him,"Oh man, Jimmy."
Pete watched as Rodrick gently prized the pistol out of the freezing ex-SEAL's fingers, "man we gotta get him warm or he ain't gonna make it."
Quickly they set up shelter inside the cave and began melting snow into water.
"C'mon Jumps, stay with us," Rodrick ordered him.
"Ruh-Ruh-Rod. T-t-t-terr. help,"Jimmy babbled.
"We know about the terrorists Jimmy don't worry, its covered. You just worry about getting warm. C'mon. In the bag," Banker said.
Rodrick and Banker began stripping off the parka and snow clothing to enclose their former team-mate into a sleeping bag. All of them began changing into other clothing and stuffing the warm layers into the bag with him.
Pete came back into the cave, "Star's taking off in five minutes. team two has the bad guys. one drone will land here and the other with them."
"Good," Rodrick replied, "strip off your inner layers and stuff them in with Jimmy. we'll change them out every couple of hours until Star gets here."
"Be better off crawling in with him. take turns every hour," Pete answered.
"Shit. Didn't think of that," Huck said and began zipping his sleeping bag to the other then stripped down to his swim trunks and slid inside with Jimmy.
Rodrick followed suit, inside they wrapped the warm clothing over and under as their heat warmed his sides.
"Man he's gonna scream as the feeling starts coming back to everything," Banker said.
"Well lucky his fingers and toes are only tinged white and not black. He should be able to keep everything," Huck commented.
"That'll be a mixed blessing. Shit. He's out like a light," Rodrick commented.
They began to wrap warm shirts around jimmy's arms and legs then rubbing them to move the blood to the surface warmth.
"Too bad the girls aren't here, he'd snap out of it quick," Pete said.
They all chuckled at that.
"We're SEALs, we'll go with what we got but I'm married so you'll have to step up Huck," Rodrick replied.
Huck laughed, "not even if i had tits on my back."
Half an hour later Pete rushed back in," Drone just landed. Star packed some stuff in the ordinance bay. You won't believe this. Its a blanket that works kinda like the MRE heaters, only instead of water activated, its air activated."
Pete tore open the packet and flared out the blanket then stuffed it into the sleeping bag. Rodrick and Huck grunted and groaned trying to maneuver the blanket underneath Jimmy then a reflecting blanket over the top of him. After an hour they switched. Banker and Pete crawled inside after fortifying themselves with coffee and MRE's while Rodrick and Huck took shift to eat and stretch. An hour later Jimmy began to stir then groan. within the next half hour his groans became steady and he began to scream.
"FUCK! HOLD HIM DOWN AND STILL," Banker yelled from inside the sleeping bag wrestling with him.
Rodrick and Huck dived on top of the bag and joined the struggle.
"Jimmy! Its us man, its ok. You're thawing out," Rodrick told him.
Pete yelped suddenly and tried to double up inside the bag. Huck straddled jimmy's legs as Rodrick held him by the torso.
"What happened Pete," Rodrick grunted.
"Fucking kneed me in the balls," Pete wheezed.
Slowly he inched himself out and began getting dressed. Finally Jimmy stopped struggling from exhaustion and slipped back into unconsciousness. Fifteen minutes later they heard the C-130 come in low and began breaking down the camp and hauled Jimmy still in the sleeping bag up into the plane. Carl raised the ramp locking out the cold and as Pete climbed up to help pilot with LoneStar.
"Hey Boss," Carl leaned in to be heard over the plane as they took off,"We're gonna haul ass to Ft. Wainwright and come back for the girls and the bad guys. There's some guy waiting at the Base. A major something or other. He'll have paperwork waiting for those assholes when we get back with them. Secure transport from there to that super secret hush-hush prison for mega-bad guys we ain't supposed to know about. An ambulance will be waiting on the tarmac for your buddy there."
Rodrick relayed that information to Banker and Huck who gave a thumb's up.
Huck and Banker stood outside the hospital room trying to not vent their anger at not being able to help.
"Excuse me gentlemen," a specialist walked up, "there's someone that needs to talk to you."
Huck and Banker followed the soldier back down the hallway and into the room she indicated.
"Gentlemen. I understand its a rough go of it down the hall," the dark suited man said casually.
The two former SEALs felt uneasy about the man. He reeked of high level spook-dom.
"Yeah. That's one way to put it. Who are you," Banker asked.
"What's important is that your team-mate will have no long lasting after-effects. They'll keep him here for a couple of days then release him to go home with a follow-up or two with his local physician. Other things are at the forefront," the suited man replied.
"You a spook or somethin'," Huck asked rhetorically.
"I'm somebody that knows you two have become aware of certain things that aren't common knowledge. My priority is to ensure that stays the same. Rodrick and the crew are bringing in our recent no-goodniks to be transported to a non-disclosed location to deal with them," the spook answered.
"Warlock," Huck said with some distaste.
"The dog is only a part of a bigger picture. A picture that is to remain obscured. Do we have an understanding," Spook asked.
Banker nodded slowly. Past experience said the guy wasn't a desk jockey. He had blood on his hands. Blood from both the dangerous and the stupid. He wasn't about to cross the guy.
The Spook glared at them both intently until they both answered, "Yes Sir. We have an understanding."
Spook nodded then turned to leave the room.
"Question. Is Katya working for you," Huck asked.
"Miss Taliyenko is a Prima. Nothing more nor less other than she is Lyssa's friend chief Petty Officer Owens," Spook answered then walked out.
"Ol' buddy there's always been things that went on we didn't like. Back in the day we knew when to let something go and when to stay on it like a pitbull. That there all but gave us a marching band with flags saying 'leave it alone'. I think that's just what I'll do," Banker commented.
Huck looked out the window, "fine. Fuck it. Their business, not ours."
"Yeah, and they did pull out all stops to go after Jimmy and only Rod had the reason to. Food for thought," Banker turned and went back down the hall to stand outside the door while their teammate inside finally began to quieten.
Kimberly shook her head in disgust then dialed. Dannigan picked up on the second ring.
"GO," he replied as a Blackhawk passed close by.
"Major that situation is Toledo is snowballing," Kimberly said.
Dannigan stopped, "summarize Moore."
Kimberly sighed, "its a by-the-numbers clusterfuck if I ever saw one. A protective Marshal detail is in so deep they can only trust each other for certain. Its that homegrown bunch that you said tried poking around for the agency about two years ago."
"Stay on top of that. We may have to step in and do a cleaning job that nobody will like. I hate these 'wanna-be king of everybody' types. I should have sent Lyssa to completely wipe out that bunch then. I'll be here for another six hours so keep me updated Kimberly," Dannigan instructed.
Kimberly replied, "will do Major."
She signed off and began poking deeper into the Toledo, Ohio office of the U.S. Marshals. She was bouncing her path. Kimberly slipped into DARPA then the NSA into Homeland and DOJ before going into the Marshals' server. Immediately there was an attempt to trace but it stopped dead cold when it hit the Homeland servers. The trace wasn't manual. It was a program that would automatically try to trace any new activity.
Kimberly rolled her eyes, "amateurs. Clean codes but definitely civilian. No real warfare skills. Better watch your ass little fish. Sharks are circling."
*- author's note. This martial art technique does not exist so please don't try it at home.
Book 40 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Training is over for the recruits and all that's left are the final details. Bad guys are still doing their thing so Lyssa has to go out on her own. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
It had been three days since the arrival of the guests. Lyssa informed them they would all be staying in the house with Rodrick and herself. The two girls were warned not to go near the range or the trailers without escorts. Arrangements had been made for Kristine and Kasey to receive similar treatments to the Chrysalis Project members. Legends were being created for all six of them. The Demarcos and Kristine were enjoying the use of Lyssa's in-home studio while Sam and Bobby made use of the range. The Kill-house was something they weren't too keen on. Watching Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel go through there put them off of it. The three never left any hostiles deemed survivable. Watching them go through led by Lyssa with Rodrick and Pete was even worse. Kill-house became an understatement. There was nothing but pure military special operations annihilation in their training.
Lyssa and Rodrick stood by quietly as the doctor examined the comatose woman. Nine months had passed quickly due to the vicious training cycles of the three new operatives. They now had the working knowledge to operate in every environment on earth with all the skills of a Special forces Delta member and a SEAL boat crew member along with skills for most federal agents. All three had basic forensic training, but Shawna being the agency infiltrator had more advanced crime scene skills while Krystel, an intelligence and cyber-warfare specialist, had deeper computer grounding. Tiffany was the plain sight Operator. She inherited Lyssa's book of low-blows and dirty assassin's tricks. She also inherited the cover as well. Of the three, her training was the longest and hardest due to the high level of discipline in ballet.
Lyssa was a Prima, honors including Julliard and the Bolshoi Academy, so therefore Tiffany was expected to follow that lead as well as establishing a career in modeling. Maria Demarco had been consulting but it would be Lyssa who would evaluate Tiffany before sending her to Julliard and then on to Moscow for the Bolshoi Academy. Lyssa had attended and even spent a short time teaching at the elite Russian ballet school, garnering not only the title of Prima but also a name and moniker that was often whispered in reverence. The Ghost Legend was how they referred to her. Usually in hushed tones of fear or reverence. The same academy the comatose woman had attended later on after Lyssa had left it. Comatose and pregnant. One of many victims of a black market designer baby mill. Lyssa's knowledge of the dancer made the decision of what to do about the situation simple. Lyssa and her husband,Rodrick, would secretly adopt the children and raise them as their own. A plan that had also helped explain Lyssa's absence from the world of ballet and modeling to train the three new operatives. Only four people off the island knew the truth; The doctor, Lyssa's best friend and reigning Prima; Katya Taliyenko, the group's leader and head of the highly classified agency; Major Paul Dannigan and his secretary Madison Dietrich.
The doctor finally turned and addressed them, "she's ready. Unless she goes into labor on her own in the next forty-eight hours, I'll do a C-section to birth the babies in three days."
They had called in the doctor due to the strange behavior of Warlock. A Belgian shepherd that had been trained for special operations, the explosive-detecting and anti-personnel dog had taken to sitting down with his head tilted at the bedside and woofed for the past three days when being allowed inside the medical trailer on Rodrick's private island. Warlock had sensed some subtle change and tried to communicate it to his superiors, Lyssa and Rodrick. the behavior was strange because the dog had been taught to whine or bark at explosives and growl at hostile combatants so the woofing was something new. Warlock detected something about the woman but communicating that was the hard part. When he began woofing again Rodrick took him by the collar and walked outside.
Rodrick said in german, "Auben. C'mon boy. I don't know what you know, but I think we got this."
"An amazing dog you have Mrs. Mason. I think he is picking up that she should be going into labor soon. Like some dogs detect seizures, heart attacks and diabetic imbalances," Dr. Isley commented.
Lyssa considered that for a moment, "Its possible though where he would get it is beyond me."
"Yes, your husband mentioned; a tactical canine? I think is what he said," Dr. Isley said.
Before Lyssa could respond the trickling of water could be heard then the yowling and barking of Warlock as he scratched at the door to be let back in.
"What the? Uh, Doctor. I think her water just broke," Lyssa said then pointed.
Outside Rodrick could be heard trying to rein in Warlock,"HALTEN Warlock! Herunter! What the hell's got into you?"
"Rod get in here," Lyssa yelled.
Immediately the door opened and both Rodrick and Warlock bolted inside.
"What's happening," he asked seeing the doctor taking out instruments and pulling on gloves.
"It's baby time Mr.Mason. You're about to become a daddy," she replied.
The Belgian shepherd on the other hand sat down and kept looking from Lyssa to the woman and back, woofing.
"We know now boy. Gut Junge,"Lyssa said and patted his head.
Rodrick grabbed his walkie talkie, "Check the radar for inbound storks; Doc says its baby time."
Doctor Isley exposed the woman's swollen belly and wiped it down with a sterilizing solution then made an incision. Lyssa and Rodrick got the incubator ready among the other baby things. Just as Kimberly, Tiffany, Krystel, Shawna, LoneStar, Pete, Eddie and Carl barreled in the final incision was made and she began gently pulling the first baby free. After a quick burst of suction to clear the airway they heard the baby's wail prompting Warlock to bark once.
"A boy," Dr.Isley announced and passed him to Rodrick.
"Alexander," Rodrick said.
"Alexander Nathan," Lyssa completed smiling.
Dr. Isley had no time to listen as she began taking the second baby. a moment later she had the infant free and used the suction clear the airway. No wail was elicited this time so she rapped the sole of the foot and still nothing. Warlock had whined once then stood and advanced with a bark.
"Warlock Halten. HALTEN! ZURUCK AUS!," Lyssa ordered in german.
The tactical dog ignored and closed in barking louder then lunged yanking the sleeve of the doctor. With a shriek she lost her hold on the still infant and all watched in horror as it fell towards the floor but the lightning quick Warlock threw himself under sideways and cushioned, as if catching it. Lyssa moved in but he growled then turned his attention to the still child and nosed it whining. Lyssa stopped as did Rodrick and they both watched as the whining Warlock continued to nudge with his nose harder then finally raised his head back some and barked twice menacingly. Suddenly the baby whimpered, a whimper that soon turned into a long wail. The shepherd then looked to Lyssa and woofed wagging his tail then began to clean the baby himself.
Lyssa reached in and gently took it and said, "Gut Junge! You saved; HER! A GIRL! Allison."
Rodrick smiling finished for her, "Allison Lysette."
After both babies were fully cleaned they were put into the incubator as instructed by the doctor and moved into another room. Warlock followed wagging his tail watching closely. Only Lyssa and the doctor remained in the room.
"Mrs. Mason," Dr. Isley caught her attention, "we need to extract two bottles of breast milk. That will instill the necessary immunity in the babies."
Lyssa nodded and took the pump. It took only a few minutes to fill the two bottles. As the doctor held the bottles in her hands after stripping off the gloves and apron.
She looked to Lyssa from the doorway, "I have the birth certificates to fill out for your children Mrs. Mason. You made a promise for when it was over. I'll leave you to that."
She closed the door behind her. Lyssa walked slowly over to the stand beside the bed. Carefully she removed the ventilator tube, Feeding line and IVs. From the bedside table she took out the micro-syrette. She snapped the safety tip off and pressed the needle into the side of the woman's neck.
Lyssa squeezed the small pouch, kissed her forehead and whispered in Russian, "I'm sorry. Das Vidania Helena. Dance with angels knowing you won't be forgotten."
Within seconds a final exhale signaled her passing. Lyssa slowly drew the sheet up to cover her then sank to the floor and wept as quietly as she could.
Dannigan hung up and called out, "Madison."
The secretary walked in a moment later, "Yes Major?"
Dannigan smiled, "Alexander Nathan Mason; six pounds eleven ounces and Allison Lysette Mason; six pounds two ounces. Less than an hour ago."
"Oh those are wonderful names! A boy and a girl! Rodrick and Lyssa must be over the moon about that," Madison exclaimed.
"Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. I know you want to go get baby presents. Do me a favor and get them a baby monitor in my name," Dannigan chuckled and passed over two large bills to cover the cost.
Madison smiled and hurried out. Hours later she found a set of sleepers for the twins and had them and the baby monitor gift wrapped then boxed it all up with the appropriate cards and sent off to the new parents. She chuckled to herself wondering if the British crown would be sending gifts when they heard the news. Madison really laughed at the thought of the President and First Family sending her gifts as well. When she got home she did a search using Lyssa's name but it was only old news and references. She hadn't announced publicly the births of the twins yet. Kimberly more than likely would send out a press release in a couple of days for her.
That night on Grand Cayman Island a new grave took its place in a secluded cemetery. Marked with a beautiful white marble headstone that read:
Kimberly looked at Dannigan on the conference window," This is a serious problem Major. Only Lyssa is operational."
Dannigan replied, "Its a bind yeah but this is urgent. A hot extract that needs to be done by somebody that will either leave no traces or no witnesses. preferably the former."
Kimberly turned quickly to see Lyssa bringing in the twins followed by Warlock as usual.
"Witnesses to what," Lyssa asked setting the baby seats on the couch by the wall.
Kimberly answered after being greeted by Warlock, "the Major has an op for you."
"So much for post-natal bonding. What have you got Major," Lyssa asked.
Dannigan laughed, "That dog is doing all the bonding. A hot extract."
Lyssa leaned over Kimberly's shoulder and asked, "a snatch and grab? Ok. Who and where?"
Kimberly pulled up the packet and narrated, "Charlene Wilson; twenty-nine years old, secretary to Senator Bartholomew Frederick Lamont. The third."
Lyssa groaned,"not Barky Lamont."
"You know him," Dannigan asked.
"Unfortunately. When I did a D and G show he was at a party thrown by the Ambassador. Grabbed my ass and tried to shove his tongue in my ear. The really crappy part was he was stone cold sober when he did it," Lyssa recounted.
"What happened," Kimberly asked.
"He took a nap. I gave him a nerve pinch that dropped his ass like a rock. He left two days later at the insistence of the Ambassador. Word had it he was not so politely asked not to ever come to Italy again. Use your imagination as to why and probably come up right," Lyssa explained, "what ever the woman's problem is you can just about lay odds on it having something to do with Lamont. He's a true politician. All he cares about is getting laid or paid."
Dannigan rolled his eyes, "He's an asshole true. Well whatever the case the subcommittee wants her and somebody is actively preventing that. I need you to go get her. the packet has all the information I could get and you'll have access to an H-model Apache but you'll have to get her onto a plane to come to D.C."
Lyssa stood up and was quiet for a moment then asked, "Major what aren't you telling me?"
"Something's very off about this and I've been wracking my brains to figure it out but coming up dry," Dannigan answered," to me; this things stinks to high hell of a set up."
"Why not just bag it and say to hell with it," Kimberly proposed.
"Can't. Request for intervention came direct to me from the subcommittee. they want her and believe I have the people that can go in and get her. No other agency can be trusted with this thanks to that fiasco in Ohio," Dannigan grimaced.
The old spook hated to have missions like this flung on him. Far better to choose and undertake battles that for the most part they could dictate their own terms.
"ok. I'll get on it," Lyssa said then turned to Kimberly," need you to babysit."
Kimberly nodded and gave Lyssa the needed papers from the packet. Lyssa turned and headed for the door to go downstairs to the lockers. Kimberly also called Rodrick on the walkie talkie to get a plane ready.
Chapter 2
Slowly she opened her eyes and sat up groggily. the room seemed unfamiliar to her. A bed, satin sheets and barely there negligee, all seemed foreign. A snore startled her and she turned to see a heavyset older man partially balding laying in the bed with her sleeping. A man she didn't know. Slowly she felt down between her legs and brought back her fingers coated with slickness. She'd had sex, but didn't remember it. Trying not to shiver from fear she slid down off the bed and crawled backwards. Furtively she looked around for clothes, all she saw was the jumble of pants, jacket, shirt, tie and shoes of his. A silent glance into the closet revealed it to be empty, the dresser had only lingerie and more negligee in it. No dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, shorts, socks or shoes. Watching him closely she backed to the door and tried the knob, it turned easily and quietly. she pulled the door open and peered out, a hallway.
Almost hyperventilating she stepped out and closed the door behind her then turned and walked away from the door. She didn't know why exactly but the small apartment was a place she was afraid of and didn't want to be. As she continued to the end of not a hall but a breezeway there was a loud sound and the wind had kicked up. She knew she'd never heard that sound before, almost like a piece of tissue paper was being stuck into a fan blade. the wind died down and the sound lessened. As she turned a corner she saw two men walking towards her, neither looked shocked to see a woman in sleepwear roaming the area. One of the men seemed familiar though, a heartbeat later the feeling of fear set in more. She was afraid of him.
The closer he came the more her fear intensified and she began edging to the courtyard stepping out onto the grass. they corrected course following her. Fear became terror now and she felt tears forming. The instinct to run away was there but her legs wouldn't move. Unable to move now from the grip of terror her tears began rolling down her cheeks. The men were seconds away from reaching her when something moving fast and quiet went past her head and they both dove to the side in opposite directions. That's when she heard a voice call out.
"GET DOWN!"
Frozen to the spot a moment later someone in all black with two very large pistols gained her side and began shooting very fast at the two men who promptly brought out pistols of their own to shoot back.
"Gotta get you out of here. Let's go," the figure said and started using their body to back her away.
Several loud shots rang out prompting the person growl, "fuck! Way to go brainiacs. C'mon! We gotta get outta here now!"
The person in all black spun and grabbed her wrist and began running, dragging her along.
"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered as she was dragged along.
"Not here to hurt you, I'm trying to save your ass now move it," the person snarled back in a feminine but angry voice.
She watched as the woman in black took something and threw it behind them back into the courtyard. Seconds later a loud bang went off with a bright light. The woman in all black continued to drag her around another corner. There on the grassy lawn was a helicopter sitting on the ground spinning its blades with that strange sound. She was shoved into the backseat of the cockpit and the window was closed as several things smacked against the glass. The woman in black climbed into the front seat and closed up putting on a helmet. A moment later her stomach lurched as the helicopter ripped away from the ground then practically stood on its nose and began to power forward as more things smacked into the glass and bouncing away, like rocks or hailstones.
"PLEASE, I just want out. Don't hurt me. I don't know you and promise I won't tell anybody anything," she yelled then realized there was glass separating them so she knocked on it.
A small screen was lit up and she could see the ground below them in shades of black and white. Scrolling numbers told her they were flying at an altitude of two hundred feet and one hundred-fifty miles per hour and accelerating. The helicopter was the military kind with all its switches and buttons, none of it made any sense. Suddenly a piece of paper was pressed against the glass partition, 'put on the headphones. now.' She looked and saw a set and slipped them over her ears.
A voice came through, "if you can hear me press the button on the right earphone to talk to me."
Quickly she pressed the button, "I hear you. Please, I don't know you. Don't hurt me please. Let me out and I won't tell anybody anything, I promise."
The woman in black answered, "I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to help you. Letting you out isn't an option though, I'm sorry. Please buckle the safety harness. The air is strange here and I don't want you being thrown around. Obey me in this, its for your safety as well as mine."
With fumbling hands she buckled the harness on the third try and stammered out, "I did it. If you're not going to hurt me, would you tell me something please?"
"I can try," the pilot answered.
"Can you tell me who I am? I can't remember. I can't remember where I was or how I got there," she cried.
The pilot burst back, "WHAT? you're kidding. Tell me you're kidding."
She cried more," I don't know who I am or what happened to me."
"Whoa! Wait-a-minute! Seriously? You don't remember anything," the pilot asked.
Even though she couldn't be seen, she shook her head and blubbered over the comm,"no. I woke up in a bed I've never been in before with a man I don't know. I think he. He."
"Raped you," the pilot asked in a soft voice.
"I woke up feeling groggy, still do. There was. From between my legs. Do you know who those men were," she asked.
"Not a clue. What can you tell me about them," the pilot asked.
Hesitantly she answered, "I'm afraid of them. That's all I know. Will you help me please?"
"So much for plan A," the pilot commented, "we're gonna set down for a minute. I want to check you over and might have to make a call."
"ok," she answered.
"Carston what the HELL do you mean the girl is GONE," the voice on the phone bellowed.
"She somehow got out of the apartment and got snatched up by somebody. Somebody in an Apache," Carston answered.
"WHAT," he asked hotly.
"An Apache. The attack helicopter Mr. Rollings," Carstons replied.
"Damnit I know what an Apache is! Give me the numbers on it and I'll get Lamont to find out who it belongs to. Meanwhile, take the AHX-81 and take them out," Rollings demanded.
"Yes sir. There were no numbers on it. At all," Carstons answered and disconnected.
Rollings immediately dailed.
The call was answered on the first ring, "Lamont."
"Its Ed. we got a problem; the girl is on the loose," Rollings stated.
Bart Lamont swore, "Damn you Ed. You assured me everything was under control there!"
"The girl will be taken care of before dawn. Doesn't matter who came and got her," Rollings said.
"Wait! Somebody came and got her? What do you mean somebody came and got her," Lamont demanded.
"Somebody flying a blacked out Apache gunship. Don't worry, we'll take care of them too," Rollings assured him.
"Yeah well you better Ed! If that girl gets to the Senate hearing; its gonna be both our asses bent over on the White House lawn. You may get the benefit of a dog and pony show trial for treason; BUT I WON'T," Lamont bellowed, "if I'm lucky I'll be quietly executed. I heard rumors of a place where embarassments are taken. They don't come back from it."
Rollns said casually, "calm down Bart. Carston will use the prototype and take care of it. Then we can go back to focusing on your campaign."
Lamont asked, "so what do you want from me?"
"Find out who is using a blacked out Apache gunship in the Western Nevada area," Rollings replied.
"I'll try. no garruantees I can find out. I might tip off whomever is running them if I ask the wrong person so be patient," Lamont answered.
"Fuck patient! Find 'em now! We'll cover up later," Rollings yelled and slammed the phone down.
Lyssa flew low and fast after taking off again. She'd checked the woman over and saw needle tracks on both arms. Lyssa knew this was going to need help she couldn't provide and called in.
"We have to get some blood work done on you fast. Find out what they've done to you," she hissed.
"Do you know who I am," the woman in the back cockpit asked hopefully.
"Your name is Charlene Wilson. I know that about you," Lyssa replied.
"Anything else? Please," Charlene asked.
"Sorry. All that's need to know and I didn't. Just your name and where to find you," Lyssa answered.
A calm cold voice came over the comms, "Fly. Come in."
"Go Star," she called back.
"We found you a facility. Proceed east until contacted by Paradise Ranch on current heading. Use identifier: Dark Reprisal. That's all. Star out," the voice instructed.
Lyssa cranked the throttle to full and dipped lower. Paradise Ranch; the designation for the mysterious facility known as Area-51. Air Force, DARPA and CIA kept their secret hardware there to test and store, from aircraft of all sizes and types to ground vehicles, even prototype space delivery vehicles.
"Who was that," Charlene asked.
"A friend. We're going to a place where they can help you. There'll be a doctor there that can find out what happened to you," Lyssa replied, "we gotta hurry though, the sun's coming up and we're not supposed to be seen flying around. Especially where we're going."
"I'm sorry. I don't even know what to call you and you've been nice to me," Charlene said meekly.
"That's ok. My name isn't important," Lyssa said gently, "getting you taken care is the priority. Ut-oh."
Charlene froze in the seat, "Ut-oh? what ut-oh?"
Something began beeping in the cockpit.
"Fuck! hang on charlene," Lyssa exclaimed then banked sharply.
Charlene gasped as she was thrown against the straps when the Apache turned sharply and she saw a string of lights fly past them.
"What was that," Charlene yelped.
"Tracers. Just try to relax and don't touch anything back there. The straps are tight now so you won't go bouncing around," Lyssa said calmly and turned on music.
Charlene's brain stopped in bewilderment at the sound of the electronic dance music. Mentally she asked herself what tracers were and why would the pilot be upset about them and then turn on music. The beeping continued. Charlene looked down at the television screen in front of her and saw the word flashing; WARNING.
"What's happening," she whimpered as the gunship banked left again then right and pitched down.
Suddenly a voice called out, "Not bad. You're good. Not good enough!"
Lyssa commented more to herself than to anyone else, "maybe I should fly sideways so he could hit something. Damn. Sidewinder."
Flares shot out from underneath and the gunship nosed up climbing away just before the heat seeking missile detonated at the decoy. Charlene felt sick as the helicopter rolled over during the climb and another missile shot past them.
"Had enough of this fucking around," Lyssa hissed and turned the music to a deafening level.
Charlene could barely keep her eyes open to see as the gunship made powerful yet graceful moves; banking hard right then up and spinnning in place like a pirouette then falling back over its tail and speeding back down twisting like a drill.
"Oh MY GOD," Charlene shrieked and saw another helicopter pass underneath them.
The Apache's tail kicked and the ship settled into a level flight giving chase and the cannon underneath shook the airframe as bullets streaked towards the other helicopter and stitched its side.
"That was pretty slick but you're still mine," the other gunship called out and banked hard right then left.
Lyssa said nothing as she banked right nosing up and rolled over left staying on his tail. A Hellfire launched from the Apache but missed when he evaded. She cranked the last bit from the throttle and rolled over again following his gunship as it pitched away then down.
"Run all you want son of a bitch. Die fucking tired," Lyssa muttered to herself unconcerned that Charlene could hear her.
They both felt the shaking as Lyssa opened up with the bushmaster cannon again. A firey trail of rounds arced to the hostile gunship peppering its side again then up until it hit the engine compartment. A flame erupted from the turbine and the ship slowed drastically as Lyssa flew past then banked to come back. She orbited around, keeping her nose pointed at him.
"Fancy flying. Who are you," he asked her.
Lyssa opened the channel, "Past the Gates and before the throne, I've been to Hell. Here's your ticket."
A flick of her thumb triggered the pods on both sides and a salvo of twelve rockets each streaked away to slam into his side. The gunship turned into a massive fireball that fell with pops and explosions all the way down to burst again on the ground.
"Good God in heaven," Charlene murmurred in horrific fascination.
Without another word Lyssa turned the gunship and flew east until a voice came up over the static.
"Unidentified helo. You are approaching restricted airspace. Discontinued your present course or be engaged."
Lyssa called back, "Homey Tower my identifier is Dark Reprisal. Requesting permission for access and escort to landing area."
"Hold position hovering at altitude of eleven hundred feet while confirming," the tower replied.
Lyssa climbed to the altitude and brought them to a hover.
"What's happening now," Charlene asked.
"They're checking us out. Seeing if we are who we say we are," Lyssa answered.
"Oh. What if they don't believe us," charlene asked apprehensively.
Lyssa replied matter-of-factly, "They'll blow us out of the sky."
charlene gasped then began muttering to herself, "oh god! Please believe us. Please believe us."
A moment later she exhaled in relief after the voice came back.
"Helo Reprisal: proceed inbound on heading of one-one-five and drop to five hundred feet. Follow your escorts directions."
Lyssa mentally sighed with relief herself, "copy that Tower. Proceed one-one-five at five-zero-zero feet."
"Homey Tower. Out," the tower said.
Five minutes later a flight of five J-model Apaches flew up to surround them.
"Reprisal Helo. This is Asura 1. Divert on heading zero-two-zero maintain altitude and speed. Welcome to Paradise Ranch," one of the gunships instructed.
Lyssa replied as she followed them through the course correction, "copy Asura 1. Zero-two-zero maintain speed and altitude."
"Asura? Paradise Ranch," Charlene asked in confusion.
"You may know it by its other names; Dreamland, Groom Lake. Usually civillians just call it Area-51. Asura is the name of the war angels," Lyssa explained, "they're not the pretty, nice, grant-your-wish type angels. They're sadistic, war-mongering, demon-killing angels. God's assassins. Or so the legend goes."
Minutes later just as the fuel gauge needles began to bounce on empty they directed her to an empty tarmac where a SUV with mirrored windows sat idling.
CHAPTER 3
"Ms. Wilson, I have a medical report here from Colonel Mavens at Nellis Air Force base. The psycho-tropic drugs you were forcibly administered have completely left your system and you have fully regained your faculties. Are you prepared to testify before the committe," Senator Darrell Albritton asked pointedly.
"Yes Sir. I am," Charlene stood and answered.
"This is a closed hearing. State your name and repeat after me; I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth under oath," the Senator prompted.
Charlene repeated, "Charlene Wilson. I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth under oath."
The Senator gestured her to to sit and began asking questions. For hours she testified and finally she was asked who the perpetrators were exactly.
she held the stare and answered, "Senator Bartholomew Frederick Lamont the third and Edward Rollings, CEO of Rol-Air. I have the supporting documents here sir."
She held up a file. A Senate aide took the file and handed it to the Senator. After a few minutes of reading the committee members somewhat leaned back and conferred.
Finally Senator Albritton leaned back to the microphone, "Let it known that the Department of Justice is now issuing warrants for the arrest of Senator Bartholomew Frederick Lamont the third and Edward Rollings; charges including unlawful captivity, rape, conspiracy to commit said captivity and rape, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit Treason and High Treason by providing classified military grade aircraft to hostile foreign entities."
Several murmurs could be heard. Moments later a man in a dark suit entered through a side door and leaned in to whisper to Senator Albritton's ear. The Senator took on a look of pure anger then slammed his fist to the table.
He leaned back to the microphone, "For the record; Senator Bartholomew Frederick Lamont the third was seen boarding an air transport destined for Costa Rica. The plane has already left U.S. sovereignty. With the Department of Justice's approval we find the Senator, and his associate Edward Rollings, guilty of all charges and issue Liquidation Mandates."
The panel agreed with nods, including the Attorney General.
"Very well," Senator Albritton said, "a Lethal Finding is now issued for the former Senator. Senator Jason Wesley, will you see to that?"
Senator Wesley leaned forward and spoke into his microphone, "the appropriate Agency will be notified."
Far to the back a shadowy figure stood and silently walked out as Senator Albritton nodded and wrote something, "so noted. Ms.Wilson thank you for your testimony. That gentleman and lady are from the U.S.Marshals' office they will see to your needs. Thank you Ms.Wilson for your courage as well. You won't be needed any further in this matter."
Charlene nodded and followed the man with the short dark hair wearing black chinos and a dark sport coat and a woman dressed similarly with sable brown hair. Outside they helped her into a silver SUV and drove her directly to a private airfield and led her into a small plane.
"Have a seat and buckle up please Ms. Wilson," the woman smiled warmly to her.
Within moments the plane took off.
When they leveled off a cold calm voice came over the speakers, "we're at altitude and headed south. Seven hour flight time."
"Thank you," the sable haired Marshal called back loudly.
She then took off the badge and tucked it into her purse along with the other Marshal's badge and ID case when he came back and gave her a kiss.
"Thank you," she sighed.
"My pleasure babe. I always wanted to impersonate a Fed," he chuckled.
At her look of panic to that comment the woman said to Charlene, "Charlene, I'm Madison. The soon-to-be-former Senator has pull in the Marshals' office so we'll be arranging your new life."
Madison opened a briefcase and took out a large envelope and a file and began handing her things," Passport, birth certificate, drivers' license. Title to a condo, here's the keys and registration for a car, hope you like a red Mazda RX-8. Account number and passcode for a bank account with check card and checkbook, you can change the PIN if you want. The condo is unfurnished so you can pick out what you like."
Charlene looked on incredulously but Madison continued to hand her things.
"Here's a life history of your new identity with letters of reference that will be verified anytime needed. Its close to your real history so you shouldn't have any major problems. At the condo you'll find a map of the Island and list of some of the stores we think you'd like and a few restaraunts. A cellphone, here's the number for it and the number to your landline. Internet will be hooked up in a couple of days as will the cable, this is also the point in time where I ask you to please not do anything so foolish as contact anyone from your past. Oh, and here's the cards for a great gyno and a dentist in Nassau. I think that's it. Welcome to your new life, Cherie Wilkins. It started two minutes ago," Madison concluded.
A helmeted man walked back and handed Madison a note that she read and looked up, "thanks LoneStar."
"Welcome," came the cold but muffled reply.
Cherie thought for a moment then muttered, "LoneStar. Star. The voice that told us in the helicopter where to go?"
The helmeted man turned and went back to the cockpit after grabbing a bottle of water.
"this is a lot to process,"Cherie mumbled.
"Maybe this will help," Madison said with a smile, "we're not here to hurt you. we're here to save your ass, now move it."
"She works with you," Cherie asked.
Madison laughed, "yes. And she wishes you well and hopes you enjoy your new life."
Cherie smiled and settled back to start reading her information while Madison picked up a tabloid and flipped to a page, the cover featured a picture of the Prima Ballerina Lyssa Kordenay-Mason and her husband. The banner read 'ITS TWINS!!!!'
Cherie looked over, "she's so pretty. I had hoped to see her dance once, but she never danced in Nevada."
Madison replied, "says here she lives in the Bahamas. Maybe one day you might run into her."
"Wow! Wouldn't that be something," Cherie sighed and looked out the window to the clouds and blue sky.
"What do you mean the Marshals don't have her? Two U.S. Marshals took her out of the Senate hearing, now where'd they take her," Lamont demanded.
A minute later he slammed the phone down.
"Relax Bart. Costa Rica is a non-extradition country. we're safe and with the pay off I gave the officials they lost the paperwork saying we entered the country," Ed Rollings said.
"You don't get it you fucking idiot! They aren't going to extradite us for trial, they authorized a Lethal Finding. A Liquidation Mandate was issue to an Agency. Nobody will say who," Lamont roared.
"A what," Rollings looked confused.
"Fucking IDIOT! They're going to KILL US," Lamont screamed at him.
Rollings stood up and was about to punch the former Senator when the lights went out.
"OH SHIT," Lamont exclaimed trying to look around.
"The deepest you or anybody else has been in for a long time," a cold female voice hissed in his ear.
Lamont wet himself as the barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of his head.
"Oh my fucking God," Rollings said.
He too, felt a pistol barrel press to the back of his head. A hand pressed and Ed Rollings sunk to his knees seeing Lamont do the same. A figure in black with blonde hair in the dim light stood behind the former man of power, her face concealed within a swirl of black markings.
"Isn't this the part where you read us a paper saying 'officially by order of the U.S. government' et cetera, et cetera," Lamont asked snidely.
The woman in black moved around to face him, "not hardly Barky."
She thumbed the hammer back and said coldly, "Past the Gates and Before the Throne. I've been to Hell Lamont. I'm sending them you."
"And your pal," the man said.
She pulled the trigger, as did Rodrick, and the pistols bucked in their hands as heads were blasted apart. The husband and wife team silently made their way back out into the night.
Chapter 4
Katya held Alex, "they are beautiful babies Lyssa."
Dannigan tickled the boy under his chin making him smile, "I'll say. Damn fine looking rugrats."
Lyssa looked on as Warlock cradled the sleeping Allison against his side, "they're precious alright but vicious on clothes. Alex has developed serious accuracy on projectile vomiting. Especially if he knows its dry-clean only."
"The newspaper in Moscow ran picture of you and Rodrick with the babies on front page. Mistress Olga is very proud and demands a picture for herself," Katya smiled.
Allison stirred and shifted. the belgian tactical dog looked over and sniffed her then licked her face and layed his head back down on his paws.
Dannigan shook his head, "I've seen it all now."
"I swear, he babies her more than any of us," Lyssa commented, "she's yanked his ears so hard and not whine or growl one at her for it. But a dirty diaper; you'd swear he found a hot nuke."
Katya giggled, "he hates the smell?"
Lyssa sighed, "I guess. He definitely lets you know she needs to be changed and you can forget rolling over and going back to sleep at night. He'll drag us out of the bed. At least he's fair about it and alternates between me and Rod."
At that moment Warlock looked over at the sleeping Allison then to Lyssa and gave a soft growl. Lyssa leaned down and picked her up. Katya arched an eyebrow so Lyssa answered the unspoken question.
"She's wet," Lyssa stated, carrying her out.
Dannigan chuckled as Lyssa went into the children's room and changed her then came back. Dannigan held out his hands and Lyssa passed her to him making Warlock stand up and walk over to watch as Dannigan held her. Soon he had her cooing and smiling.
"Gonna have to start a college fund for these two ankle-biters," he smiled.
"Already done," Lyssa replied.
"Pete fly me to Cayman Lyssa. Helena would like the place you got for her. she loved the sea," Katya commented.
Lyssa leaned over and wiped Alex's face, "she dances with angels now Katya."
"She dances with Marissa's sister Jeanie now. Nyet," Katya said, "I get roses for her but I borrow from Pete. I didn't have enough and I didn't know where to change rubles."
"I'll pay Pete back for you Katya. I didn't think you might not have enough money for flowers," Lyssa apologized.
"I give Pete rubles Lyssa is fine," the russian ballerina assured her.
Lyssa meanwhile had went to her laptop and a few moments later said, "There. I put some money into your bank account Katya. Tell me if you have no money and I'll help you."
"No Lyssa. You do too much for me. Have always done too much, always taken care. I don't deserve it," Katya protested.
Lyssa leaned down and hugged her friend, "you deserve it Katya. Heart of gold and worth it to me my friend and tell Mistress Olga that she will get a portrait of me, Rodrick and the babies."
Dannigan leaned down and settled Allison back against Warlock who promptly nuzzled her and licked her face as she settled back to her napping.
"The thing I'm mostly worried about is making sure both of them walk upright on TWO legs instead of forever crawling around on all-fours due to somebody's encouragement," Lyssa remarked.
The dog on the floor looked up with his eyes only and whined once. Even Rodrick laughed.
Shawna lay grumpy in bed, as did Tiffany and Krystel sharing the room with her. It had been two weeks since the birth of the twins and a week since the special surgical team had been flown in for the last procedure on the three new operatives. In five more weeks Shawna's status would be upgraded back to active-standby. Tiffany on the other hand had another two months of private intense traing with Lyssa before being ok'd to attend Julliard where she'd train for six months. After the requisite graduation of Julliard she'd be allowed to go to Moscow to train more at the world famous Bolshoi Academy; the school of ballet that all the renowned dancers attended at one time or an other, including Lyssa herself. Two schools that produced the best and most sought after dancers, dancers that went on to become masters and mistresses of schools after spending time on stages around the world performing and later, choreographing.
Tiffany knew that after graduation from there she'd have to be in two productions then be sent off to modeling school. basically at least another year before she'd be out on her own operationally. Krystel wasn't a field operative so as soon as she recovered from surgery she'd be allowed to resume her duties there on the island. the benefit of being an Intelligence Specialist, She didn't really have to interact with other people outside the agency unless the circumstances were extreme. Everyone stopped in to see them all twice daily which kept them from going crazy.
"Hey girls," Madison called out as she walked in.
"Madi! what are you doing here," Krystel asked along with Shawna and Tiffany.
"Its an island weekend. Pete picked us up. We'd have been back sooner but the stopover in Nassau took longer," Madison explained.
"why did it take so long," Tiffany asked.
"Seems there was a press release about the twins so Lyssa and Rod had a plane-load of presents to pick up," Madison giggled.
They all laughed, "From who?"
Madison smiled, "all over the world it looked like. I mean there had to be at least two hundred gifts."
They all laughed and joked as Madison gossiped with them about the current goings-on in Washington.
"Yeah. Its gonna take a month to go through all these," Rodrick commented as Lyssa unwrapped an other gift, a crib mobile from Rocket; Rodrick's former teammate and his wife in Los Angeles.
"And another month for the thank you cards," Lyssa laughed.
She was already unwrapping another gift which turned out to be a baby bath set from her friend and one-time understudy Marissa. A set of matching teddy bears had been brought by Lyssa's best friend, and the babies' godmother, Katya Taliyenko.
"HEY hey; look at this," Rodrick said holding up a package, "so cool. 'Our most joyous congratulations on behalf of a proud nation. The President of the United States and First Family.' I'm gonna frame this."
Lyssa reached out and snatched the card, "don't be gauche. This goes into the baby book."
The unwrapping continued for the rest of the day, gifts from friends all over the world. The press release Kimberly composed simply stated;
Rodrick and Lyssa shared a laugh as she unwrapped gifts from the British Royalty, all of which bore the new Mason family crest and addressed to Master and Mistress Mason, including a gift from the Queen herself as well as a gift from the Prince of Dubai along with gifts from Royalty around the world that Lyssa had danced for at one time or another. There were cards of congratulations as well that outnumbered the gifts from various acquaintances, orphanages and childrens' hospitals that she had appeared at for christmas. Even the Soviet Premier and Japanese President were among the heads of nations that sent gifts. The hand drawn card from the Down's Syndrome girl Meghan took the highest place of honor being put on the first blank page of the baby book after a photo of the twins an hour old.
Lyssa took a break and glanced over to the two infant seats on the floor with the black belgian tactical dog laying between them. Warlock had to be watched around them due to his tendency to nose at them when sleeping until they awoke and made noise of some kind then would try to curl around them protectively. Especially Allison. He hadn't even whined or growled the first time her little fist grabbed his ear. His explosive detection exercises had become different as well. After he detected a substance and indicated where it was he'd immediately run back to check on the twins, as if shielding them from harm with his own body.
He was also more effective than the baby monitor Dannigan had sent, usually by running from the room and grabbing Lyssa or Rodrick's arm trying to pull them from bed during the night when one or both of the babies woke up. Dannigan had been highly amused to hear that during a conference. When Lyssa returned from the kitchen with bottles for them both Warlock immediately looked up.
"Yes its time for their bottles," Lyssa stated in German.
There was no worry of the dog taking the bottles. He'd tried the formula and immediately ran outside to eat grass. He just wanted to make sure the babies got them. A tactical canine expert Rodrick talked with said that for a male to be so attentive was unheard of. Females were known to bond to newborns if they didn't feel competitive with them. Especially if they had bred before, viewing them as puppies of their own. As Lyssa held the bottles for the babies Warlock leaned in and sniffed then licked their faces once before trotting outside for a perimeter run. All was quiet. For now.
Book 41 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Everyone is standing down from the last mission. There are a lot of loose ends though that need to be tied up. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Slowly the world was coming back to Robbie. Soft beeps. There was a brightness. He tried to open his eyes but it was hard. It took a lot but he managed to force them.
"Welcome back," a pleasant voice said.
The voice was a stranger
'STRANGER,' Robbie thought, 'Strangers hurt me!'
He tried to move away but pain exploded from his belly out and he passed out. When the world came back again it wasn't bright. It was dark. a soft hand stroked his forehead.
"Shhh. Its ok Princess. You're safe. Just lay still. I promise you're safe now," the voice said.
Robbie started to relax. It felt like he was laying in a bed. It was comfortable, but slightly cool.
"She's awake again," another voice asked.
"Yes," the first voice said.
The two voices were women Robbie now understood. Things were still hazy but slowly coming back.
"Can you hear me," a new voice asked, male.
Robbie nodded and slowly opened his eyes. It was a man. His hair was slightly grey and he had a blank expression. A woman began taking blood pressure then stuck something in his ear until a beep and wrote on a clipboard. The man had lifted up the sheet and gently poked at the inside of Robbie's legs. Robbie whimpered and tried not to move. He was afraid.
"Do you feel pain," the man asked.
Robbie nodded.
The man looked intently at Robbie, "is the pain a little or a lot?"
Robbie tried to answer but all that came out was barely a croak and his throat felt like he had burning sand caught in his throat. He grabbed at his throat and whimpered again.
The man leaned forward and took out some kind of light, "let me look inside your mouth."
Slowly Robbie opened his mouth. The man shined the light inside and moved around to see then shook his head.
"Bring me the fiber-optic," the man said to the woman that appeared to be a nurse.
She left and came back with something.
"Open up again and try not to swallow," the man said.
A tube-like thing was stuck inside Robbie's mouth.
"Doing fine just hold very still and breathe through your nose," the man said, "hmm. The vocal cords are very irritated. The whole throat is inflamed."
He leaned back and handed the thing back to the nurse then wrote on the clipboard.
"Every four hours starting now," he said then turned back to Robbie, "your throat has been strained. just nod or shake your head. Do you feel pain?"
Robbie nodded.
"Where do you have pain," the man asked again.
Robbie guessed he was a doctor and pointed to his throat then to his private area under the sheets.
"Is the pain sharp or dull. What I mean is does it feel like it's a pinch or poke? or does it feel like a really hard squeeze," the doctor asked.
Robbie shook his head. How to explain that it felt like somebody had kicked him really hard. He saw the doctors arm and grabbed it then squeezed hard then squeezed it repeatedly.
The doctor was quick, "a throbbing pain?"
Robbie nodded then held the doctor's arm and slowly squeezed and held for as long as he could.
"You feel tightness," the doctor asked.
Robbie nodded again then started to poke and twist while poking.
"Ah. You also feel like something is inside you as well," the doctor stated.
Robbie nodded, the doctor was understanding him. Robbie then started looking around. Where was mom? He then looked at the Doctor. Weren't they supposed to wear name tags or something that said they were doctors? He reached forward and patted at the pocket.
"What's that," the Doctor asked.
Robbie patted the pocket area then gestured that he didn't know. When the Doctor gave him a puzzled look, Robbie patted the pocket then acted like he was writing then gave the 'I don't know' gesture again.
The nurse chuckled, "you're not wearing a name tag."
"Oh that. Sorry. We don't wear name tags here. My name isn't important. I'm a doctor and you're in my care. There isn't much for me to do though, they did very good work where ever you were before. Right now we're going to give you some medicine for your throat and a shot for pain. You should go to sleep after that. Sleep is needed now," The doctor said then left.
The nurse held up a syringe with no needle, "open up sweetie. I need to squirt as much of your throat as I can with this."
Robbie opened up. She started squirting a liquid inside. Suddenly it hurt. It hurt a lot. The burning sand feeling now felt like burning glass.
"Oh honey I know it hurts! I promise its helping," the nurse said sadly.
Tears streamed from Robbie's eyes from the pain. Then he felt a sharp poke at his butt and then in a few seconds things felt fuzzy then nothing again. Sometime later he felt the world tilt then liquid followed by pain in his throat. When he woke up it was bright again. His throat did feel somewhat better. A different woman came in. She looked like a nurse too.
"Good morning sweetie," She said with a smile.
Robbie gave her a half smile then watched as she did the usual nurse things. Finally she took up the big syringe with no needle. Robbie gave her a frightened look.
"Ah. You know what this is by now. Sweetheart I know it hurt at first but it won't hurt like that now. Trust me," She said.
Reluctantly Robbie opened his mouth and she squirted the stuff inside. She was right, it didn't hurt so much but something bad did happen. It tasted horrible.
She laughed at the face he made, "see. It doesn't hurt, just tastes nasty. That means its working."
Robbie tried not to gag at the taste then motioned for something to drink.
She shook her head, "I know. you're thirsty. I'm sorry but the note here says not to give you anything yet."
Robbie pouted. He was really thirsty. Then he started looking around.
'Where's Mom," he thought to himself.
The nurse sighed, "I know that look. You're looking for your mom."
Robbie nodded.
She shook her head, "you were brought in alone sweetheart. The woman that brought you here had to step out. She'll be back soon. I know that look too. You have a lot of questions. I'm sorry but I don't know anything I could tell you. Just rest for now. I promise you're safe here."
Robbie frowned and laid back. They didn't even have a tv in the room to watch. With nothing better to do He looked out the window. This was a very strange place. The people were doctors and nurses. the bed was like a hospital kind but the room looked like someone's house, except the floors. The floors were like a hospital's only shinier. After what seemed like a long time the door opened and pretty brown haired woman came in.
"Hi there," she said.
Robbie recognized her voice. She had been with him since he first woke up.
"The nurse said you're starting to look for answers," she said.
Robbie nodded.
"Well first; My name is Madison and I've been looking after you. There's a doctor coming to talk to you," Madison.
Robbie sighed. Finally somebody that had a name. The door opened again and woman came in. She wasn't dressed like a doctor. She wasn't wearing a white coat. She walked up and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Hi there. I'm Beth. I'm a psychologist. Do you know what a psychologist is," Beth asked.
Robbie nodded then croaked out, "doctor. Crazy people."
Beth chuckled and shook her head, "not really. I am a doctor though. I help people with their feelings. Sometimes we just talk. Sometimes there has to be medicine. I like to try talking first. ok?"
Robbie nodded but before anything could be said the door opened again. The nurse and Doctor came in followed by another man.
"Just a moment doctor. I wanted to take a quick look before you start," the doctor said.
Beth backed off with a smile, "certainly."
Robbie saw the tube thing and knew to open his mouth.
The doctor nodded his head, "very good. You knew I wanted to look inside again. Hold still please."
After a minute or two the doctor moved back, "the inflammation is subsiding. I'd like to limit speaking for a day more but I understand some conversation is needed. Please limit your responses to one or two words at a time. This evening you may have liquids but nothing cold yet. warm only."
With that the doctor and nurse left. Everyone looked to the man in the corner. He came forward.
"Should I go," Beth asked.
The man shook his head, "you can stay doctor. What is about to be discussed is sensitive though."
"Understood," Beth replied.
The man looked down at him, "Robbie. Yes I know who you are. A lot of things have happened. Today is tuesday. Do you remember saturday?"
Robbie nodded and whispered, "soccer."
The man nodded, "yes. You had a soccer game."
"Won," Robbie smiled.
The man relaxed some and even smiled a little as he nodded, "yes. Indeed you won. Do you remember what happened after the game?"
"Fight. Zane," Robbie said.
The man looked at a tablet, "ok that's not in the notes. Wasn't a big fight was it?"
Robbie shook his head.
The man nodded, "that would be why its not mentioned. Let's call that a scuffle instead. What happened after that?"
Robbie whispered, "left. Home. No."
The man listened intently now.
Robbie looked at him in thought then fear set in again, "stranger!"
The man nodded, "a stranger. What happened with the stranger?"
"Took," Robbie said then patted his chest to mean himself.
"The stranger took you. What else," The man asked.
Robbie started crying, "hurt. took."
"He hurt you. He took something," the man asked.
Robbie nodded, "hurt private."
Nobody stopped to remind him not to say so many words at once.
"People. Noise. Momma crying. Daddy yell. Daddy yelled no. Called me a freak," Robbie sobbed.
The man sighed, "you remember that much. That's good and bad."
"Where's Momma," Robbie asked.
The man sighed, "I'll tell you, but you have to hear me out all the way first. I'm going to give you truth first and then I'm going to show truth and lies at the same time."
That sounded strange to Robbie but he nodded anyway. the man turned his tablet around and showed Robbie a video. It was from a big room. The woman Madison and his mom were talking. They were using a lot of big words but he could see that papers were being signed. Then Madison told his mom to go get somethings and she would wait.
"Now you've seen that. You know your mom trusted us to take care of you. Now I'm going to show you some lies," the man said then handed Robbie a newspaper.
Robbie looked at it. It was from Kansas City. The front page had in big letters 'Tragedy for Brice family!'
The article went on to say that Robbie had been kidnapped by terrorists. When his father called in the FBI, a watcher for the group informed them. The group then proceeded to mutilate Robbie sexually, then rape him. The paper went to say that the Congressman objected to reconstructive surgery for Robbie over political reasons only and because his mother authorized it he tried to have her committed. During that attempt she was given a lethal drug overdose and died. Robbie upon hearing of his mother's death had escaped his room, went to the roof and jumped to his death. Robbie began to cry and shake his head.
The man reached over and held Robbie's shoulder, "Some of that is truth and some of it is lies. I want to show you another video and its all truth. It's going to upset you a lot but it is truth."
He turned his tablet around and played a video.
"Your mother's cellphone was in the outside pocket of her purse but the camera part could see. We had activated the camera and were watching just in case," the man explained, "but nobody thought this would happen."
The video showed his mother putting things into a suitcase then the bedroom door opened. His father and five men came in. Men in white clothes and another man in a suit.
Clair continued to pack, "No Robert. I'm going back to the hospital to take care of our son. I know what you plan to do now. You're going to exploit Robbie. What was done to him for you're own political plans! I won't allow it."
The four men went forward and grabbed her then forced her to the floor.
"You're going to be committed Clair! Don't ever get my way again! You won't get in my way," Robert spat, "I'll have another surgeon come in and undo whatever that woman did. A normal life? Not when it benefits me more that he doesn't! Robbie become a poster child for instability because of terrorist action? THEN SO BE IT! A CASTRATED FREAK WILL WIN ME THE ELECTION!"
"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO ROBBIE! HE'S A CHILD YOU MONSTER," Clair screamed in protest.
Robbie watched in horror as the men forced pills down his mother's throat and start choking. a minute later she started thrashing.
Robert nodded to her, "Make damn sure this will look how I want! I don't want anybody to think that she didn't do this!"
The man in the suit chuckled, "This isn't my first emergency overdose Congressman. The ambulance is on its way and will be here just in time for it to be life threatening. We'll go out just before they arrive and follow close behind to the hospital. All you'll have to do is sign the papers releasing her to our care and you'll never see her again. Next week she'll make another suicide attempt and succeed. You'll be the first single president in history, but the people will be so outraged they'll vote out of sympathy."
"I think we got a problem," one of the men said from the floor.
"What," the man in the suit asked.
"She stopped breathing already," the man said then started feeling her neck, "SHIT! SHE'S IN ARREST!"
"WHAT'S GOING WRONG," Robert demanded.
They immediately began CPR. It wasn't working.
"DAMN IT SHE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO DIE HERE YOU IDIOTS! I'M PAYING YOU GOOD MONEY FOR THIS," Robert shouted.
"How much money," a police officer asked walking into room.
Everyone froze. Four police officers and two paramedics had arrived. Earlier than anyone thought they would. The paramedics rushed forward and began to work on Clair. The cops began to search the men and found a plain bottle of pills.
"The fuck did you give her," The cop demanded.
The man in white shook his head, "I have the right to remain silent."
The paramedics had tried shocking her three times and finally shook their heads to the officers.
"You're gonna need the best lawyers in the country. You're all being charged with murder," The cop said as the other men were being cuffed.
Suddenly a phone rang. It was Brice's cellphone.
The officer cuffing him took it, "Don't worry. I'll get it. Hello?"
The officer looked down at the phone confused then said, "HOLY SHIT! Brice; you're gonna hang from the tallest tree in the country!"
"What is it," one of the officers asked looking at the phone.
"Its a video. Someone can see us all right now. They saw everything that just happened and sent to Brice's phone. Hey if your still watching he can deny the phone because its his. send it to my phone," the officer said loudly and gave the number.
A moment later his phone rang and he checked. It was the video. There was no return number though. One of the officers noticed Clair's purse and looked closer. The angle seemed right so he leaned down to the lens.
"Whoever's watching. I don't know why you were, but thanks. We'll take it from here. He won't weasel out of this," the officer said and gave small salute.
Robbie was crying openly now.
"You're dad has a lot of friends and then there's the people that hurt you Robbie. I'm sorry your Mom's dead. You're going to be taken care of. I promise. You're not alone. You can call me Paul. I'll help you," Paul said.
Beth went over and hugged Robbie as he cried.
"Madison. Stay here. If I need anything I'll call you. You're in charge of Robbie's care. Robbie. Listen close. Everyone thinks you're dead now. This protects you some. Nobody will look for you. I have to go now, but you'll be seeing me again. Madison will take care of you," Paul said then left.
Madison went over hugged Robbie.
Robbie cried, "nobody. A-a-Alone."
Madison hugged him tighter, "you're not alone. You can call me Aunt Madi. You're gonna be ok."
Robbie soon quieted. He had cried himself into sleep. Madison and Beth eased him back to lay down.
"That didn't go as bad as it could have," Beth said.
Madison sighed, "my heart breaks for him."
"Her. And she's probably going to have an episode about that too. I've never dealt with forced transition though I can understand why in her case. What will happen to the father," Beth asked.
Madison looked angry, "he'll make bail tomorrow. He has the clout and money to do it. His campaign is springing him and they'll do a full press conference."
Beth shook her head, "that bastard. For once in my life I find myself saying I wish somebody would just shoot him."
"That would solve a lot of problems but he can't be touched now. If anybody did take him out there'd be so much fall out and the prime suspect would be the intelligence agencies. All we can do is slam him indirectly and make him look like the psycho he is. The video was sent out to every news agency. Brice's party is trying everything they can think of to get it canned but they won't. They'll run it because others are and they refuse to be left behind, even if they support him. It would be biased and they can't risk that," Madison stated.
Beth sighed, "why don't you go get cleaned up and changed. I'll sit with her til you get back."
"Thanks. Three hours," Madison said then left.
Kristine and Kasey were going crazy and wanted to find some explosives and blow open a door. Saturday morning the GulfStream took off with Lyssa, Rodrick, LoneStar, Carl and Warlock while Kimberly and Krystel locked themselves in the room under the hangar. Rodrick, Pete, Krystel, Carl and Eddie called it the C.I.C. meaning Combat Information Center. Lyssa, Kimberly and LoneStar called it the T.O.C. for Tactical Operations Center. Both of those meant the same thing. It was the War Room. They had all returned angry. Even more so by midnight. Rodrick sat on the patio drinking straight from a bottle. Lyssa shut the door of the babies' room and didn't come back out until morning.
Maria had noticed the mood and told both girls to give them space and not to ask. The two girls had classes in the trailer by the far hangar called the classroom. There were three computer terminals in there that they now used for lesson modules. The adults had been taking turns teaching them a lesson and language. Lyssa taught them Geography, Japanese and Portuguese. Kimberly taught them English grammar, German and Dutch. Krystel taught them math, Russian and Swedish. LoneStar was the history buff and taught them Spanish. Carl taught them Marine biology and French, it turned out he had spent more than one summer down at the aquarium in Monterrey and even one at SeaWorld. Pete taught them literature as he was a big reader and also spoke Arabic. Eddie taught them mechanics but he only knew Spanish. Maria was also teaching them French along with Ballet basics.
All in all the girls were getting quite an education. Krystel also watched over their computer studies. She had to warn Kristine twice about trying to hack the main system. The punishment was issued by Lyssa. Both had to do morning PT with her. Kristine and Kasey vowed never to step out of line again. They hadn't known Lyssa's idea of PT was a triathlon. Every morning and only Rodrick and Krystel could keep up with her. The two stood outside the door of the hangar office and eavesdropped on the conversation inside.
"I say we fly up there and just shoot the fuck," Pete said.
"We can't do that. All eyes are on him now and if we take action it'll justify everything he's been saying and then we've got a martyr," Kimberly stated.
"This is bullshit though. He's still exploiting the kid," LoneStar's muffled voice said from inside the helmet.
Krystel protested, "The intel read like they were going after him. It made sense! To all of us!"
Finally Lyssa had enough, "woulda coulda shoulda. We didn't have enough boots on the ground and if we had we'd have been spotted and they would've waited. The Op went to shit and we did what we could. The kid's alive, the mother's dead and that cock-bite is out in the spotlight. The Tangos that survived are in jail and no lawyer is slimy enough to go near them. Though it probably won't matter as one of the fucks has already been killed in lock-up."
Dannigan was in the conference window, "leave the politcos alone. I'll deal with him. The kid is awake now and trying to figure what kind of world he's in."
"Somebody should be with him," Rodrick said.
"Madison is there and looking after him. The funerals are tomorrow. I'm leaving now to attend. Brice isn't being allowed to. Her family filed a restraining order and the judge granted it. Kimberly make sure Shawna and Tiffany are holding up. Krystel find the rest of those bastards. I want that organization buried. That is all," Dannigan signed off.
Everyone went quiet for a minute or two then Pete asked, "so what do we do now?"
"Find your own ways to deal with it," Lyssa said then went to the door.
She yanked it open and glared at the two teens, "meeting adjourned."
Both bolted down the stairs for the door.
Kasey asked as they ran, "HOW'D SHE KNOW?"
"DUNNO BUT SHE DID AND IS MORE PISSED OFF AT SOMEBODY THAT AIN'T US," Kristine answered.
The two didn't stop until they got back to the house.
Maria looked at them and shook her head, "you two were spying and got caught. Didn't you?"
"Yes Ma'am," Kasey said breathing hard.
"I understand you're curious what goes on here but there is a line that we are not allowed to cross. If we are not asked to participate in their activities then we should not try to nose into them," Maria reminded them.
"But grandma everybody came back so upset and they just seem to be getting madder and madder. Maybe we could help," Kasey said.
"yeah," Kristine echoed.
Maria sighed, "Only one thing could anger them so much. Whatever they went to go do, something must have went very wrong and they blame themselves. I doubt there is anything anyone could do. But I trust that they will do everything that can be done if there's a chance and they'll find some way to make things right or at least as right as can be."
"Prima Lyssa's scary sometimes," Kasey remarked.
"That's understandable for you to say. She is a lot more than I imagined. I know some of what Lyssa is now that I have seen more. She's not a government agent. None of them are. They are all soldiers. Warriors. I know that Rodrick was a Navy SEAL. Lyssa seems to stand above that. She is in my opinion, the deadliest woman on earth, but more than just that; she is dedicated to service. I've seen that before in men. Men in uniform of the military. They believe in what they do. Lyssa believes as well. They all do. For some reason they are not able to serve as others do. They serve this way and make a difference," Maria explained.
"But they work for a government agency," Kristine asked.
Maria looked thoughtful, "I've been reminding myself of that. We know they work for that agency we saw in the files. The one LOG seemed to be afraid of.
Kristine's mind recalled, "the O.I.C.A."
Maria nodded, "yes. They are covert, take action and do so immediately. LOG was well founded in their fear. Remember what your uncle said? 'There are always Apex Predators.' Lyssa and her people being the O.I.C.A. then they are exactly those 'Apex Predators' from what I've seen here."
The girls looked at each other. They hadn't thought of that and now that they did. It put things in a more dramatic perspective. Now they understood the restricted areas and how Krystel could be so good at Cyber-warfare. Civilians like Kristine called it kung-fu, but people like Krystel and Kimberly called it Cyber-warfare and they went up against entire countries. Even Kimberly had found the attempts amusing the first time but not the second.
"If you two don't want to find yourselves 'exercising' with Prima Lyssa again in the morning you should start thinking of a way to atone for gaining her attention from other things," Maria suggested.
"Make dinner," Kasey suggested.
"That may help," Maria agreed.
The two girls immediately went into the kitchen and began searching for some ideas. While they were cooking Maria went in search of Lyssa and ask that she accept the girls apology. At the dinner table later on Lyssa fixed them with her stare and allowed them a pass, provided there was no repeat. Both quickly nodded. Training with Nonna Maria was vicious and with Lyssa even more so, but that was the studio. Morning exercise was a session in torture in comparison that neither wanted.
Chapter 2
Robbie sat in the bed day after day. Still no tv but Madison let him watch videos and read books on her tablet. During one of the nurse visits he glanced at the clipboard and saw the file. It was in an orange folder marked SECRET and no name. where a name would be it said Patient #491527. Someone wrote Princess to the side.
"Hi. How's it going today," Beth asked walking in.
"Same as yesterday," Robbie said.
Beth nodded, "how many nightmares did you have?"
Robbie twitched. He denied having them but everybody knew he was. It was more than obvious when he would wake up holding onto Madison and a nurse feeling like he'd played a full soccer game against monsters alone. He refused to talk about them afterward. They all knew the content due to his protests during the dream but until he began talking about them while awake there wasn't much they could do.
Beth sat on the edge of the bed, "let's talk about surgery."
Robbie froze. Everyone had been dancing around the subject of how badly he had been hurt.
"You remember the bad men hurting you. I want to talk to you about that," Beth said.
Slowly Robbie nodded.
Beth fixed her eyes to his, "you remember they cut you. What they did was more than that. First I'll try to explain. Where they come from if a boy has his private parts damaged it means they'll never go to their heaven. For any boy its the greatest injury, but for them it means even worse because of their religion. You've heard the recording. Because your father called in people to find them they hurt you. They wanted to hurt him through you. By taking away the parts that mean so much to a boy and especially a man, to them, is the worst possible punishment."
Robbie had tears but still he listened. He knew she wasn't done yet.
"When you were brought to the hospital the doctors had two choices. They could finish what was started or they could take what was left and make you look like a girl. They went with that. Make you look like a girl. They had a reason why. If they finished what the bad men started you wouldn't be able to do anything except go to the bathroom. Now they took away your testes. You probably call them balls. Those make two things. They make sperm for making babies, which you probably already knew. They also make something else. They make a hormone that men need. Its what makes them get big and strong. It also makes them aggressive. Girls make the opposite of that. Its what makes them be curvy and girly. Do you follow me so far," Beth asked.
Robbie sniffled, "y-yeah."
Beth nodded, "good. Now you don't make any of those. You'll have to be given one of them. The reason they went ahead and gave you the girl surgery is because you would be able to do things later on in life as a girl that you can't do as a boy with nothing. You will be able to have a relationship with somebody. If they didn't do that you wouldn't be able to do anything. That would be bad for you. It would make you worse. You'd always be angry, much more than you are now."
"It would make me crazy," Robbie asked.
"I won't lie to you. It could. If that happened you would want to hurt people or yourself," Beth explained, "do you now understand why the doctors made you look like a girl down there?"
Robbie nodded. It made sense but he didn't like it. Then his memory kicked in and his head shot up.
"A freak! Daddy called me a Freak. Is that why," Robbie demanded.
Beth nodded, "yes. He wasn't right. He was very wrong. Usually when that kind of surgery is done, its because the person was born looking like a boy but are a girl in their brain. We can't change brains so we have to change bodies to match. He was against that. The main reason why he didn't want you to have the surgery is because it wouldn't work for his politics. You being hurt did, but you getting better and having a normal life didn't. does that make sense to you?"
"He would show people how bad I was hurt and they would feel sorry for him. They would vote for him because they feel sorry for him, not me. As long as I stayed hurt he would get more votes. Right," Robbie asked.
"Sweetie you hit that nail on the head," Madison said.
"So if I stay dead then Daddy won't try to get me and make the doctors undo the surgery so I'll look hurt again," Robbie continued.
Beth nodded, "you are really smart! Yes. When you leave here you going into hiding. Its a special kind of hiding. You get a new name. When you grow up you won't look like Robbie, you'll be a woman. Nobody will come after Robbie ever again."
"You get a new life," Madison added.
Robbie looked at them sadly then cried, "where will I live? Who will have somebody like me?"
Beth hugged Robbie, "oh sweetie! Don't worry about that part. That's being worked on. I can't tell you anymore about that because I don't know. There's good people though, and I'm sure they'd love to have you come live with them."
Lyssa, Rodrick, LoneStar, Kimberly and Krystel sat in the Hangar office watching the plasma screen. Madison had been streaming from her phone.
"My heart breaks for that little girl," Krystel said.
Rodrick nodded, "All of us feel that way Krystel."
"Who the hell could we possibly find that keep that child's secret. Her face has been all over the nation," Kimberly stated.
LoneStar agreed, "Even the President went on and called it a national tragedy. He called the congressman a despicable opportunistic bastard during the same conference. What parents are up for this kind of heat?"
"We're looking at them," Lyssa said looking at LoneStar and Kimberly.
Kimberly had been sitting on his lap and promptly fell off. Krystel went silent.
"I can't think of a better choice," Rodrick stated.
"You're serious," Kimberly asked getting up and moving back to LoneStar.
"I think they are," Krystel said.
Lyssa looked over to Krystel, "out."
Krystel bailed from the room, "AYE MA'AM!"
Lyssa then looked at the couple on the other side of the room and leaned back against Rodrick's desk, "There is no one that could be trusted. And even if they could that child can NOT stay in CONUS. She'll be discovered and everything sacrificed and suffered goes to shit. Better parents than the two of you? none."
"Whatever gave you that idea," LoneStar asked.
Rodrick shrugged, "Kimberly has a master's degree in psychology, including experience dealing with our kind of stress. You have day-to-day experience with that same stress. To top it all off, neither of you would have a problem with a transgender child."
"I'm surprised. You two aren't jumping at this opportunity," Lyssa asked, "you've been together all this time and even are engaged. Yet you balk at adopting? Joe you, above all others, know what its like to live with this kind of damage. You understand what she's in for and her best possible chance at living with it."
Rodrick stood up and walked around then placed his hand at the small of Lyssa's back. Together they started to walk out.
Rodrick looked back, "make up your minds fast. Paul's working on the paperwork now. That kid needs a name and a home to go to next week. And we still have Tangos in the wind. I don't know about you but I want to kill 'em before that kid leaves the hospital. What about you?"
With that they walked out closing the door behind them.
Kimberly sighed, "they're right. We are that child's best option. Her only option. With the other two girls here she'll have playmates. Of a fashion."
Kimberly reached under and unbuckled the helmet's chin strap and carefully lifted it off. She set it aside on the desk and ran her fingers through LoneStar's hair.
"You really think so Kim? I mean; us, as parents? Are you sure we can do her any good," LoneStar asked.
Kimberly stroked his smooth left cheek then kissed his heavily scarred right then looked into the almost translucent blue eyes and nodded.
"I do Joe. We can go into Nassau first thing tomorrow morning to the magistrate and do a quick marriage. We can be back before anybody realizes. It wouldn't do for mom and dad not to be married at least," Kimberly said.
"Still got that list for Chrysalis? We need a name for our daughter. You can work on that while I grill. I feel like steaks tonight," LoneStar said.
As they got up he slipped the helmet back on then walked out together.
Dannigan sent out another batch of messages to various political campaigns and media outlets. Another series of torpedoes into the Robert Brice campaign effort. He still had several thousand supporters. They were as rabid as he was and even applauded the murder of Clair Brice for allowing the reconstructive surgery. Of course most of those people believed Area 51 had aliens running around in military uniforms, the CIA were still running psychic experiments, also there were multiple doom's day scenarios and every dentist under the age of fifty-five was implanting tracking and listening devices into the fillings of every gun owner under orders for the NSA.
Dannigan even saw a small group of men and women with tin foil stuffed inside their hats at one of Brice's rallies. To him it was one thing for people to be that strange, it was another to advertise the fact. Those were the ones that made him groan.
"Times like this make me look forward to the day I can turn this over to somebody else," Dannigan said to himself.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He needed some rest. A quick nap and then he would do a little more work before leaving. He drifted off to sleep within minutes and dreamed of sitting on a porch.
Chapter 3
"PAY FUCKING DIRT," Krystel yelled out then grabbed the radio, "I FOUND THEM!"
Several minutes later Rodrick, LoneStar, Pete, Carl and Eddie poured into the room under the main Hangar. Lyssa and Kimberly soon joined them.
"I got a report from an oil company to the Coasties. A drilling rig supervisor in the Gulf sent a report to the security division. They saw a sport cruiser loitering around a production platform. The cruiser loitered for three days. They looked like a bunch of guys fishing but the guy had a gut feeling something was wrong about them. When they left the area he sent a crew over to the platform. Somebody had broken the locks on the emergency fuel pumps. Enough was stolen to fill barrels to finish crossing the gulf in either direction," Krystel reported.
Carl asked, "have the Coasties found them yet?"
Krystel shook her head, "no. They're using SeaHawks and Bells to look for them during the day. They won't find them though. Even though they're using FLIR on the fixed wings at night. These guys are hiding under the platforms and not moving until the area is vacant and still."
"So the only way to actually find them is a surface search," Rodrick asked.
"Yes Sir. Or, we can sit and wait just a little longer. They'll have to break cover soon to go to Florida or to Mexico. They can't go back to Texas," Krystel said then brought up two highlighted areas on the map, "here's where they're vulnerable. The only supplies they have been able to get from the platforms is fuel only. Unless they served on sub-duty they don't have enough provisions to outlast the search and will have to make a run for a coast."
"We've heard nothing since they quit Galveston. Are there any other possibilities about that boat," Kimberly asked.
Krystel had been holed up in the room for two days hunting them electronically.
Krystel checked another monitor and read off, "There's three escapees from Houma, Louisiana. A possible smuggling outfit out of Mobile, Alabama. And. Another group that might be working out of St.Peter'sburg, Florida."
"Who's doing what," Lyssa asked.
Krystel sat back, "Louisiana State Police, Wildlife and Fisheries are searching for the escapees. DEA and Alabama State Police are all over the Mobile group. Customs, Coasties and DEA are on St. Peter'sburg. The Northern Coasties are involved in a search and rescue for a family on a sailboat that got caught in a squall. They had left New Orleans headed for Cancun and were skirting the major oil areas. Petroleum Helicopters Incorporated are assisting with both the Louisiana based searches too."
"We know these guys are definitely headed for Tampa right," Rodrick asked.
Krystel nodded, "definitely. One hundred percent, Skip."
Rodrick nodded, "I have somebody in Tampa. He could listen to the radios. If they make contact he'll call me. The question is would they call out? If they did would they do it in English or Arabic?"
"Krystel what company owned the platform they ripped off," Eddie asked looking at the map closely.
Krystel checked her main monitor, "Chevron/Texaco. Is that important?"
Eddie nodded, "yeah. Smaller companies can't afford all the automated equipment. Rigs and Platforms work in clusters. One or two will be manned and the rest won't most of the time. They send crews to check and service those unmanned ones when needed. If they got somebody onboard that knows how Gulf oilfield works then they'll know that. They may also know which areas are manned and avoid them if they have experience working on them. Can you get into the big companies' systems and find that out?"
Krystel nodded, "sure. Just a sec."
A few moments later small dots lit up on the map.
"Blue dots are manned and yellow dots are unmanned," Krystel said.
Eddie looked closer at the map. Rodrick joined him as did Carl.
"Last sighting of the boat," Rodrick said.
A red dot began blinking.
"What's the make of the boat," Carl asked.
Krystel told them and the specs. She quickly caught on and highlighted a circle around the blinking light.
Lyssa joined them, now understanding, "increase that range using the amount of fuel stolen. Good. Now cut that to an eastern trajectory."
Kimberly had joined Krystel with her own terminal, "removing western sectors."
"Give us the patrol patterns," Rodrick said.
"Grey is DEA, Orange is Coasties, Customs is white," Krystel listed.
"They'll move at night to avoid drawing attention of the oil crews," Eddie said.
Pete nodded, "FLIR is limited in distance. Coasties are going to put the focus on radar search. DEA will use visual data mostly and Customs will stick to FLIR along the coast."
"This area. Here," Rodrick said and drew with his finger.
A rough oval lit up in that general area. It was just outside an isolated cluster but still far away from the Florida coast.
Rodrick tapped the map, "that's where they have to commit and has to be daytime. Once they hit that there's no real turning back. If they try at night, they'll raise eighteen red flags. They have to run in the day."
Krystel cut the other half of the map away and began displaying topographic data and anything else she could find.
"Its deep. Deep enough to lose them," Eddie grinned.
"Anything else Eddie," Rodrick said flatly.
"Nope. What do you want," Eddie asked.
"Juice up my bad boy. Snakes and Mavs," Rodrick replied then turned to LoneStar, "ready to go huntin'?"
LoneStar nodded, "Big time."
Eddie and Carl left. Kimberly pulled up a satellite feed and was watching that area. True enough. Their intel was dead on. The boat was just entering the zone Rodrick said. Kimberly adjusted and zoomed in the image. It was the boat. They were obvious by having lookouts on deck with AK-47 rifles.
"TALLY-HO," Krystel called out a few minutes later.
Lyssa looked over her shoulder, "what?"
"Ma'am they have a satellite phone and its hooked up to a laptop! I'm IN," Krystel crowed in triumph, "Texas group CONFIRMED!"
Lyssa looked at Rodrick, "GO!"
Kimberly snapped up a phone and called Dannigan.
Rodrick, LoneStar and Pete bolted for the door.
A conference window opened on the main screen and Dannigan was there.
"What do you have Moore," Dannigan asked.
Kimberly sent everything they had, "we got 'em! Rodrick needs mid-air refueling for the F-14 at these coordinates. Give us a corridor."
Dannigan looked it all over and nodded, "this is verified? Confirmed Tangos?"
"Yes Sir," Krystel answered, "I'm in their laptop. They're confirming arrival time for tomorrow at noon Tampa. Now or never Sir."
"Deploy! Set the plane's transponder to 517490.3 and supersonic will be authorized," Dannigan replied then signed off.
Krystel relayed the information to Eddie on the radio. He confirmed it twice. Lyssa and Kimberly went up to the flightline.
"You didn't correct him," Lyssa remarked casually.
Kimberly tilted her head, "correct who?"
"Dannigan. You didn't correct him. He called you Moore. Not Lando," Lyssa said.
Kimberly looked at her in shock, "HOW?"
Lyssa gave her a bored look, "you left here wearing all white day before yesterday and when the two of you returned you went straight to your house for four hours. I need a degree in quantum mechanics to figure out you two got married?"
Kimberly laughed, "apparently not. We'll tell him later."
Rodrick and LoneStar finished putting on their G-suits. Kimberly pressed her forehead to the forehead region of LoneStar's helmet while Rodrick kissed Lyssa. Carl used the tractor to start the twin turbines while Eddie ran a check of the controls. He climbed down and stood saluting. Rodrick climbed into the front cockpit and LoneStar into the back. The fighter was loaded with AIM-9 Sidewinders and F-model Mavericks.
"CLEAR THE RUNWAY FOR LAUNCH," Pete called out over the speakers from the tower.
The powerful jet spooled up its engines to a high pitched whine then began to roll forward and took off. It circled the island once as it pulled its wing back and blasted away at high speed.
"WHOA! LOOK AT THAT," Kasey said standing on the beach in front of the house.
Kristine gawked, "that's the Tomcat!"
Minutes later it blasted past them again followed by the crack of pressure waves seconds behind it.
Maria had joined them by that time and watched the fighter streaking northwest.
"They're in an awful hurry aren't they," Maria remarked.
"They're going supersonic. It must be really important. Not even the military do that without a reason. Mr. Eddie told me about it," Kristine said, "there's rules about it. They can't go supersonic over populated areas and they always have to have permission. This is way serious."
"Did you see underneath? I saw missiles," Kasey told them.
Maria picked up the tone in Kasey's voice, "I doubt it would be a good idea."
She didn't get the finish the statement. Both teens had started running down the beach toward the hangars.
Maria crossed herself, "Lord please do SOMETHING about those girls curiosity."
Kimberly and Lyssa were about to go back into the War Room when the two teens came running up.
"We saw the Tomcat going somewhere," Kasey gasped.
Kimberly nodded, "that's right."
Lyssa opened the door then looked back at the two, "I'll grant you access just this once. Touch nothing without permission."
The girls all but quivered with excitement. Quickly they followed them. A second door was opened and they went inside. The two looked around in sheer amazement. Behind a thick glass wall was a super array. The main room itself had screens on one wall and white boards on another and maps on another. A large table dominated the center of the room with blocks stacked up at the corner of it. The surface of the table was a dry-erase board like those on the walls. Krystel sat at three-sided desk working a keyboard. The main monitor was an electronic map that constantly updated with moving dots.
Kasey had went to the monitor wall and was looking. A smaller monitor showed a boat with men on it and scrolling numbers in the corner that looked like coordinates. Three other monitors were scrolling computer codes and another showed what looked like radar tracking.
"They'll make the first re-fuel in fifteen minutes," Krystel said.
Kimberly asked, "tankers on station?"
"Aye Ma'am. All three are on station. Vendetta will make all three and return within range," Krystel answered.
"Vendetta. That's the Tomcat right," Kristine asked.
Kim nodded, "yes. That's his track down there."
Kasey pointed to three blinking dots, "are these the tankers you asked about?"
Kim had joined them at the monitor, "correct."
Kristine looked confused, "but that's ocean right? Where are they going to land?"
"Those are navy planes. Aerial refueling," Kimberly explained
Both girls suddenly looked disgusted with themselves for not thinking of that.
Lyssa had slipped out and came back with Maria in tow. The older woman sat in the offered chair and watched as well.
"Vendetta. No change in aspect, Eastern vector. continue on current heading for intercept," Krystel called out.
Rodrick called back, "roger that Stronghold. Vendetta maintaining."
Everyone had watched two dots merge and then separate twice. Then a third time.
"Vendetta course correct. You're less than a hundred miles out," Krystel called out then gave them a new heading.
They all watched as the dot shifted direction to line up with an intersect point ahead of another moving dot.
Kasey looked up to the monitor with the men on the boat and pointed, "that boat. They're going after it aren't they."
Kimberly nodded grimly.
"Fifty miles Vendetta," Krystel called out.
LoneStar's calm voice came over the speakers, "Fifty miles. I have 'em."
Rodrick spoke again, "Master arms; off. Orbit one."
The monitors shifted. Now the big screen showed the men on the boat. They were now moving, watching and pointing.
"Be advised. Target has visual. Target HAS visual," Krystel called back.
Kim pointed to the doorway of the cruiser, "what are they doing?"
"I can't tell. OH SHIT," Krystel said loud then called out, "VENDETTA WAVE OFF. INCOMING SAM! EVADE EVADE EVADE!"
One of the men had come out of the cabin and was aiming a hand-held missile at the incoming aircraft. A blast and it launched.
"Deploying countermeasures," LoneStar said calmly but grunted.
Rodrick's voice sounded strained, "EVADING! COMING AROUND!"
"Good move," LoneStar then said more relaxed, "accelerate to MilPower."
Kimberly said softly to the girls, "eighty percent throttle. Military full power."
"Copy that. Hostiles reloading launcher, preparing to open with small arms fire. You're cleared to engage," Krystel said.
A moment later Rodrick called out, "target locked. FOX TWO!"
"Launched, good track. Impact," LoneStar called out, "direct hit."
"Orbiting," Rodrick called out, "coming around for second pass."
"Second pass. Clear to engage Vendetta," Krystel replied.
Kasey shook her head, "that boat's history."
"It will be in a few seconds," Kimberly commented.
"Locked. Fox Two," Rodrick said.
"Missile away. Good track. Impacting. Direct hit," LoneStar narrated.
Krystel watched the screen, "big splash Vendetta. Swimmers in the water."
Rodrick announced, "reducing speed for low pass. Switching to cannon."
A moment later it was like the water erupted around the four men splashing in the water then red started to spread from them. One still struggled. Suddenly he went underwater. He bobbed up and more redness began to spread out. The reason revealed itself right after that. A shark came up out of the water diagonally and dragged him under. It was large but not a great white.
"WAS THAT A SHARK," Kristine asked in shock.
"Tiger shark. Their done," Krystel said.
"Tiger shark? Don't let the activists hear. I'd hate for 'em say I was cruel to animals," Rodrick laughed.
LoneStar said blandly, "maybe we should drop in a bottle of pepto. I feel bad already. Poor sharks."
"You're clear Vendetta. Tankers standing by. RTB," Krystel instructed.
"Copy Stronghold. RTB. Vendetta out," LoneStar said.
The main screen went back to the map. Lyssa looked over to Krystel.
"What do you have on the receiving end," Lyssa asked.
Krystel nodded, "I have them Ma'am. Assembling a packet."
"Send it to Tiffany. She's ready to run 'n gun," Lyssa said.
"Aye Ma'am," Krystel sent the packet out.
She closed her eyes and hit send. Tiffany was going out on her own. Full clearance this time. Lyssa didn't miss Krystel's expression.
"This is what we do," Lyssa said.
All eyes turned but Lyssa was talking to Krystel. No one said anything.
"We know who they are. What they are. What they intend and will bring it to an end Krystel. We are the hunters of men. Of monsters that would subjugate the world in their madness. If the meek are truly deigned to inherit the earth, we will ensure that they are still around to do so. Tiffany is prepared. She's ready. Never let yourself be distracted by the risks," Lyssa stated.
Krystel nodded, "see the jungle; not the trees. We volunteered."
Lyssa shook her head, "volunteering isn't enough Krystel. We don't do this because nobody else would. We do this because its what we are. Only WE can do this. Fate, destiny, karma. Blind shit-house luck. Call it whatever you want but it all comes down to us. We ARE because we are supposed to be. Not somebody else. US. And we believe in it the strongest. We'll take on the horrors. We'll storm through the worst that can be found in the field. We'll do it because we know its there more than anybody else and we'll fight the hardest to end it. Not a single one of us would run and hide. If it would make a difference, I would give up all that I am. Everything I've endured and brought into this world and created. I'd give it up along with my life, for us not to be needed. That won't happen though. Madmen will run rampant and I'll hunt them down."
"No more Helenas. No more Robbies," Krystel whispered.
Lyssa nodded, "that's why we do this. As horrible as this world is. Every mission we take on, makes a difference."
Krystel stood up and went over to the monitors. She looked at the maps and scrolling codes.
"See the world and the evil in it," she then looked to the monitor that had the boat's debris and floating bodies, "See the world, with less evil in it."
"Past the gates; before the throne. I've been to Hell Krystel. I'll send as many as I can," Lyssa said then turned to leave, "Your lesson is over girls. The day is done."
Both the teens and Maria followed her out. This was a glimpse into a world that was much more dangerous than the one they left behind and Lyssa led her people into with her head head high, thinking nothing of the blood on her hands.
Madison stood outside in the hallway. Her eyes had widened in disbelief several times. No ten year old should have some of those words in their vocabulary. Finally the nurse came out.
"is everything ok," Madison asked.
The nurse nodded, "it went better than expected."
"Better," Madison asked.
The nurse nodded, "of course. She performed the dilation on her own and without any chemical assistance."
Madison understood now. It wasn't forced. For the nurse to do so or to use medicine of some kind to ensure compliance would have been tantamount to rape. Robbie had done it herself but unhappily. Madison nodded and went inside. Beth was sitting on the edge of the bed gently rubbing Robbie's back and talking quietly.
"Madison's here. Why do I go see if you can have some ice cream or a snowcone," Beth said and got up.
Madison sat down, "hey."
The door opened again and Dannigan came in.
"This a bad time," he asked.
Madison nodded.
Dannigan walked over to the side of the bed, "I'm sorry to hear that. I thought you would like some news."
Robbie turned over, "news."
Dannigan nodded, "the second group of men were found and dealt with. Unfortunately your father is still trying to hang on to his campaign. Its in the toilet but he's refusing to admit it. A family is getting ready for you though. Madison now has the details. The last of the terrorists will be dealt with soon. Just a little longer Robbie and you'll be safe forever."
Robbie nodded.
"You're not alone. You have my word that things will get better," Dannigan said gently and patted Robbie's shoulder, "I promise."
Robbie nodded again, "ok."
Dannigan nodded, "you're stronger than you think. Much stronger. You're going to come out of this fine. I have some things to take care of. I'll be checking in on you from time to time."
Dannigan had turned to leave when Robbie spoke up again.
"Mr. Paul. What about the men that did this to me," Robbie asked.
"Five were caught but only four survived to be jailed. Of those, only two are still alive. Two were killed by other prisoners that found out why they were there. It wasn't pretty when they were done with them," Dannigan said then walked out.
Robbie looked to Madison, "aunt Madi. I don't think Mr. Paul is in the payback business, but it sure does sound like a hobby he's really good at."
Madison nodded, "kinda huh? Things are going to be ok. Being a girl isn't so bad."
"Daddy can't be all that bad can he," Robbie asked.
Madison brought over her tablet, "I didn't want to do this. This is a press conference he held this morning."
She played the news-feed. Robbie went from sulking to pissed off in five seconds flat. Robert Brice focused on his bid for the presidency. He stayed on foreign incursions and termination of diplomatic relations. Any time a reporter asked about the deaths of his wife and son, he ignored it and went back to claiming his superiority over other candidates. Another reporter brought up the subject of his involvement in the forced overdose death of Clair. Brice again ignored the reporter and continued on with citing his qualifications.
"Stop it. JUST STOP IT," Robbie said, "He doesn't care! IT HAPPENED AND HE DOESN'T CARE! HE TOLD THOSE MEN TO KILL MOMMA AND HE DIDN'T CARE THAT SHE DIED! I DON'T WANNA BE ROBBIE ANYMORE! MAKE ME SOMEBODY DIFFERENT!"
Robbie broke down into sobs then holding onto Madison. Madison hugged her tight.
"Its going to be ok sweetheart. Here. Let me show you something," Madison brought the tablet up again and began showing pictures.
"This is going to be your new home. See," She showed an aerial view of the island then various pictures of the beach then a cottage, "this is going to be your house. Pretty isn't it?"
Robbie had only been half looking at the pictures but now looked intently at the house.
"These people are going to be your new parents," Madison showed a man and woman standing in front of a helicopter. The woman was a pretty red-head in a green dress and the man was completely covered in a uniform and helmet in all black.
"Them," Robbie asked.
"Her name is Kimberly. I'm sorry but I only know him as LoneStar," Madison explained, "but that's an island in the Caribbean. Is that cool or what? I'm a little jealous. You'll have beaches you can play on all year long."
"I won't have to go to school," Robbie asked.
Madison laughed, "don't get THOSE hopes up. I'm sure something has been worked out on that."
Robbie tilted her head, "like home-school?"
"Probably. Maybe even better than going to a regular school," Madison said.
"Ok," Robbie frowned.
"maybe in a couple of years you can go to a regular school. It won't be so bad. You'll be able to do fun things as a girl. You liked soccer didn't you? Girls play soccer. Pink cleats and all that," Madison said with a smile.
"PINK CLEATS," Robbie asked then started to laugh, "you'r silly Aunt Madi."
Madison shook her head, "I am not. I've seen them at the stores! I'll get you a pair of pink cleats if you go to a regular school so you can play soccer."
They began teasingly to argue.
Outside the door Beth listened and smiled. Finally the reluctant girl turned the corner. Now the long road of healing would truly begin.
Chapter 4
The days both dragged and flew by. Beth and Madison had sneaked in a hair dresser that added extensions to Robbie's hair. She looked more like a little girl ever before. The doctor had given her a shot of hormones then instructed on the wearing of a patch. She would develop at the same rate as any girl her age. Of course the hormones had made her emotional and she found herself crying over the smallest things at the drop of a hat.
One morning the nurse came in with a wheelchair and Beth.
"Today's the big day Princess," the nurse said with a smile.
"Huh," Robbie said.
Beth held up a small suitcase then set it on the bed, "its time to go. You're going home."
Beth opened the suitcase and began taking out clothes.
"Where's aunt Madi," Robbie asked.
The nurse chuckled, "somebody has to sign you out and she's it."
Before Robbie understood what was going on a pair of nylon panties went up her legs then a pink t-shirt was pulled over her head. A denim skirt was brought up her legs and she was stood on the floor as it was zipped and buttoned. Her feet were slipped into a pair pink flats and a jacket that matched the skirt was on.
"Whoa. What happened," Robbie said looking at herself in the mirror.
"You're dressed. In the chair now. Its your last ride," the nurse said and guided her into the seat.
They joked and teased her all the way to the front. Robbie had been wondering what kind of hospital this was the whole time. It looked like someone's house except in certain rooms. The 'Front' they brought her too looked more like an old fashioned living room than a hospital. There she saw Madison talking with a tall man with short dark hair. He was wearing black pants and a blue shirt along with hiking boots.
"Here we go. End of the line," the nurse said.
The man pointed at her, "what kind of warranty comes on this kid?"
"Thirty seconds or off-the-lot only," Beth smirked.
The nurse nodded, "and no return policy. She eats all the ice cream."
"I do NOT," Robbie pouted.
The man looked at her and held his chin, "Hmmmm. I dunno. Only eats ice cream might be a deal breaker. Throw in the occasional burger and fries and extend the warranty."
"Hey now. I should at least rate a year or two but no trade-in," Robbie fussed then pouted again, "now I feel like a door prize."
The man shook his head, " no way. I bought a raffle ticket!"
Everyone laughed including Robbie finally.
"I'm here to take you home kiddo. Ya ready for a long trip," the man asked.
Hesitantly Robbie nodded.
The man shook his head, "don't you worry none. I ain't scared of anything that walks, crawls or digs holes. Except dentists. One of those shows up and you're on your own."
The man gently picked her up and held her lightly. Robbie held on and ended up giggling. Madison followed them out carrying the suitcase. Outside a silver SUV waited. The man settled her into the back seat and buckled the seatbelt. Madison had put the suitcase in the back and let him hold the door and close it after she was in. They drove for a while and Robbie was very surprised. They had been in Washington D.C. the whole time! Soon though the drove into a small airport and stopped in front of a fancy looking plane.
"This is where the road ends," the man announced.
Robbie looked at the plane as the man carried her from the SUV to it.
"We're going on a plane," Robbie asked.
Madison nodded, "its a long trip remember?"
She set the suitcase inside and a pretty blonde woman took it.
"Hi Madi," the woman smiled.
Madison smiled back, "Hi Krystel. Did you have fun in town?"
Krystel nodded, "oh yeah. I got in some shopping and took in a movie."
Madison leaned in a kissed Robbie on the cheek, "have a great trip home."
Robbie looked puzzled, "you're not coming?"
Madison shook her head, "not this time. I have to go back to work sometime. Your new Uncle Pete takes you from here. She's your new aunt Krystel."
Pete leaned down and kissed Madison on the lips, "see you in a couple of weeks. Love you."
"Love you too. Take care of her," Madison said then kissed Robbie's cheek again.
Pete patted Robbie's back, "don't worry kiddo. In a few hours you're gonna be really happy. Its time to go home."
"Ok," she replied timidly.
"Hey hey. I'll even let you sit up front. and maybe you can fly it yourself for a little while," Pete said.
Robbie nodded. That sounded appealing to the ten year old. Pete gave Madison another kiss and took Robbie up into the plane. He sat her in a ina chair in the cockpit behind Krystel. After going back to close up they started the engines. He talked to the tower and then took off. After thirty minutes Uncle Pete kept his word. Robbie was guided onto his lap and took the wheel. It sure felt like she was flying it because the plane did what she wanted. He let her fly for an hour then Krystel took her into the cabin and cooked some chicken nuggets in the microwave. There was some french fries too.
"I'm sorry for not having tots. Madison said you like those more," Krystel said
Robbie shrugged, "that's ok. I didn't know that you could cook on planes anyway."
Krystel laughed, "oh we can do more than that. check it out."
She pressed a button and a movie started playing. It was the latest disney release. She ate the nuggets and fries then finished watching the movie with Krystel but fell asleep. Soon Krystel was waking her up again.
"Wake up sweetie," Krystel said stroking Robbie's hair.
Slowly Robbie opened her eyes and looked around, "where are we?"
"Less than ten minutes out. come up and look," Krystel smiled.
Robbie followed her to the cockpit and sat in the seat again. Krystel buckled her in then took her seat beside Pete. A few minutes later the plane turned and Robbie could see land surrounded by water.
"Here we go," Pete said and brought them in.
The plane barely bounced as it touched down. Soon thereafter it came to a stop. They unbuckled and went to the door that Pete opened and let down the stairs. Krystel took the suitcase and went out.
Robbie froze at the door.
"What's the matter," Pete asked.
She looked up at him, "I'm scared."
Pete crouched down, "you may not believe this, but they're scared too. They're scared you won't accept them and want to leave."
"They are," Robbie asked.
Pete nodded, "I been knowing Kimberly since she came here. Star hasn't been here as long but he's a really good man. They're great people and want to be your new mom and dad. They're out there right now. Hoping you'll come out and want to be their little girl."
She shook her head, "but I'm not a real girl. I'm a fake one. Doctors made me a girl because I can't be a boy."
"One thing I've learned; it takes more than parts to make a girl or a boy. You're a special case. You can actually chose. A happy girl. Or an unhappy girl. Some let the girl find them. You can find the girl. If you want to. Whatever you do, those two people out there will love you as if you've been theirs since the day you were born," Pete said.
Pete then held out his arms, "anything that walks, crawls or digs holes; we ain't scared. Ready?"
Slowly she went into his arms and he gathered her up and went out into the bright light. She looked and several yards away Krystel stood with them. As Uncle Pete walked over carrying her she could see that the woman was even prettier than the picture and the man looked bigger and stronger. Pete set her down to stand and nudged her forward.
"Hi," Kimberly said, "my name is Kimberly. You can call me that if you want to."
The man crouched down. She could see her reflection in the shiny visor of the helmet. His voice was calm but muffled some by it.
"My name's Joe. Everybody calls me LoneStar. Sometimes just Star. Welcome home Mindy," LoneStar said.
"Mindy," she asked edging forward.
Kimberly nodded as she bent down too, "we were asked to pick out your name."
"Melinda Valerie Lando. It means Sweet Strength. We thought you might like Mindy as a nickname," LoneStar said.
Slowly she had gotten closer and reached out. They eased her closer and hugged her.
"I'm Mindy now? You're my Momma and Daddy now? I live here with you," she asked.
Kimberly nodded, "we'd like you to. Will you live here with us? Be our daughter Mindy?"
"Yes Ma'am. I'm Mindy. I live here with you and Daddy. You're my Momma," Mindy said and hugged them both.
Pete smiled, "congratulations. You're a family. There's a some rules though. Rule number one is never play on the runway and if you hear an engine running, stay far back unless holding somebody's hand."
"Ok Uncle Pete," Mindy said.
Kimberly nodded, "there's some other things you need to know for safety and you have more uncles and aunts too, but that can wait until tomorrow."
"Whoa! The epitome of efficiency Kimberly putting off til tomorrow what can be done today," Eddie said walking up.
Carl shook his head, "that's bad man. That could like, implode the entire space-time continuum or something."
"Can it you two. Mindy that's your uncles. Eddie and Carl. They're both silly," Kimberly said.
Eddie shook his head and took her into his arms, "no way. Don't worry kiddo, Your new Daddy there is a top chopper-jock. Hang around me and I'll teach you how to make all these machine run like champions."
Carl then slipped her into his arms, "He'll get you all greasy and grimey. I'll teach you how to sail a boat, scuba dive and even surf. When I get done you'll probably be able to teach the Pipeline girls in Hawaii a move or two."
Mindy looked confused then asked, "can you teach me to swim?"
Carl laughed, "oh yeah! You'll be swimming like the little mermaid in NO TIME!"
"Better leave the swimming lessons to a professional," Rodrick said walking up.
Carl shook his head as he passed her over, "watch out for your uncle Rodrick there. He'll have you swim five miles just to find an anchor and bring it up."
"I wouldn't do that to a kid. I'd do it to Carl though," Rodrick laughed as he passed her to Lyssa," the one to look out for is your aunt Lyssa there pipsqueak. She'll take you into her ballet studio and teach you how to dance until your feet fall off."
Mindy looked at the woman. She was one of the prettiest she'd ever seen.
"If you want to learn how to dance you're welcome to learn," Lyssa said, "you have two little cousins but they're sleeping right now. They're still babies."
Another pretty blonde then took Mindy into her arms, "I'm your aunt Tiffany. Me and your aunt Shawna will make sure you have plenty of fun when we come to visit. I'll even send you some nice things from my travels."
Shawna was next to take her, "I'll make sure you get some good movies to watch, otherwise aunt Krystel will have you doing number puzzles all the time."
Mindy was set on the ground again and a black dog began to sniff her all over.
"Warlock. Aus. Bekannte Mindy. Schutzen Mindy," Lyssa said in German that she was a friend and to be protected.
The dog stopped sniffing her all over, sat down and yipped.
Lyssa patted him roughly, "this is Warlock. He's not like other dogs, he'll protect you. He only understands German, don't worry. You'll learn it too."
"Ut-oh. Sounds like she has to start school tomorrow," A girl said walking up.
Mindy looked over and saw two teen girls and an older woman.
"Hi. I'm Kasey. I guess we're kinda like cuginos. Cousins. Sorta," Kasey said smiling.
"I'm Kristine. If you want to call us cousins," Kristine said and hugged her.
Maria smiled, "welcome child. I'm Maria. If you like, you may call me Nonnina Maria. I'll help teach you to dance if you want to learn with the girls. I'll teach you Italian as well as French."
"I've never danced before. I'm good at soccer though. I'm not allowed to do much yet," Mindy said.
Kimberly guided her to stand close, "you're supposed to take it easy for a few weeks and then you can run and play again. Right now though its a good time to show you exactly where home is and get some dinner. You'll have plenty of time over the weekend to get familiar. Only Tiffany and Shawna have to leave sunday. Everybody else stays here."
LoneStar picked up the suitcase with one hand and held Mindy's with the other while Kimberly held her other hand and they walked around to a beach then to a cottage that set back a distance from it.
"So the meet and greet went well," Dannigan asked.
Lyssa nodded, "very. We'll know for sure by morning."
Dannigan nodded, "I hope this works. Frankly I'm drawing a blank for options. The girl Meghan was one thing. She was easy. Nobody knew who she was."
"Her picture as a boy plastered on every tv screen in the hemisphere slammed us I know. This has to work. If Robbie Brice ever resurfaces we're screwed. Senior will bring down every intelligence agency just to do it," Lyssa said angrily.
"Just sit tight. His political career is over. Completely. He withdrew an hour ago. I'm already hearing that he intends to relocate to the northwest. Give me some time to put some things in motion and in a few months you can pay him a final visit," Dannigan said.
Lyssa arched an eyebrow, "with everyone's blessing?"
Dannigan steepled his fingers, "more like; nobody will care if he suffers a misfortune of some kind. If you get the drift."
Lyssa sighed, "so its like that. Very well. Its the least I can do to protect her from that monster."
"I'll make sure he's on the ragged edge. I'll leave the rest to you. Give me six months," Dannigan said then closed out the conference window.
Lyssa left the T.O.C. then stood on the beach looking out at the waves rolling in.
"You won't be forgotten Clair. As long as your child lives, you'll be remembered," Lyssa said to the last light of the sun.
Mindy found it odd. Only her bedroom and bathroom had regular lights. The rest of the cottage was dimly lit. When they sat down to dinner there were three candles lit on the table. LoneStar's helmet sat on a nearby table.
His chair was situated in shadows while they ate.
"Can I ask why its kinda dark," Mindy asked, "and why you were wearing your helmet Daddy?"
LoneStar sighed, "You can ask. I was hurt a long time ago. It was my face. I didn't want to upset you."
"Oh. I'm sorry," Mindy apologized.
LoneStar reached over and took her hand, "its ok. I get asked that by everyone I meet if they get to know me."
Mindy yawned when she finished. Kimberly smiled and nudged her to get up.
"Its been a long day. Let's get you bathed and ready for bed," Kimberly said.
Together they went to Mindy's bathroom. In a short time Mindy had a quick shower and was in a gown. Kimberly tucked her in and LoneStar stood at the door after the lamp was turned off. A soft light in the hallway outlined him.
"Good night sweetheart. sleep tight," Kimberly leaned down and kissed her forehead.
LoneStar did the same, "see you in the morning."
Mindy relaxed and closed her eyes. She remembered her new mother's smell. It was like flowers. Her new Daddy had a smell too. Like the plane after it shut off but there was a clean smell too. The floppy-eared bunny smelled like that too when they tucked it in with her. Flowers and strong. Soon she was almost floating. The sun was bright and smiling people were around. From uncle to aunt she was passed again, laughing. Then a pair of hands grabbed her and she was dragged into the dark. The cheerful voices of her aunts and uncles became the harsh voices that said things she didn't understand. Mindy whimpered.
"No. I want to go home," she moaned in her sleep and began to toss and turn.
Smoke was coming from close by. Something was burning. The harsh voices were angry. Mindy felt her arms being held tightly then her legs. They forced her legs open.
"No no no no no don't," she cried.
Suddenly she saw the knife. It reached out and drew a line of fire.
Mindy sat up in a panic about to scream. Momma. Daddy. Flowers and strong. Shiny face and flowers. Mindy had wound up slithering out of bed onto the floor. She began to crawl around to escape. Find the flowers smell! Find the shiny face! People were coming. Loud noises. People were yelling. Her head hurt. She hit something. There was light far away. Go find the light. Flowers and shiny faces were in the light. Something got in the way and she hit it then something fell. It was shiny. Mindy heard new noises. Quiet noises. Cool air and soft light. She went for it. Find the light. Find flowers and strong smell. Something banged her head again and she was. There was somebody. They were moving around and making noise. Mindy crawled over.
"NO. Not like this! Not like this. I can't get to you," the voice said.
"Help me! They took me. They hurt me," Mindy cried.
"Oh god. Mindy? No baby. Don't look," LoneStar begged.
A cloud drifted away and a beam of moonlight filtered down. Mindy could see now. A man. He was scarred all over the right side of his face and body.
"Daddy? Daddy you got burned," Mindy was now out of the nightmare and staring.
LoneStar turned his head, "don't look sweetheart."
Gingerly she reached up and touched the heavily scarred side of his face, "does it hurt? Did somebody take you away and burn you?"
A single tear rolled down his untouched cheek, "it doesn't hurt anymore. Nobody took me away. We crashed and I got burned."
"We? Somebody was with you Daddy? Where are they? Are they burned too," Mindy asked.
"Damn. I shouldn't have said anything. Yes. Somebody was with me. My first wife. She died. I couldn't save her," LoneStar confessed, "now it happens all over when I dream."
Mindy hugged him tightly, "I have bad dreams too. Bad men take me away and hurt me again. Daddy how do we make it stop?"
LoneStar felt her breathing slow down. She was slipping into exhausted sleep.
"God help us both; I don't know," he admitted.
His own eyes had gotten heavy, "just for a minute. I'll take you back to your bed in a minute."
Kimberly eased out the door. They had fallen asleep. She went in and brought back a sheet, draped it over them and laid down beside them. In minutes, she too fell asleep.
Book 42 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
All the missions have wrapped for the moment, but all is not so quiet. Help comes from the strangest of places. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Lyssa stood alone on the beach. The night was clear and only a slight breeze stirred as she stood back from the lapping waves rolling in. Occasionally she had to deal with insomnia. Once every couple of weeks for a night or two she simply could not sleep. It started in Special Forces worsened in Delta and was irrevocable after joining the DemonWraiths. After Rodrick dropped off to sleep she would slip on something simple, grab a pair of shoes and go outside.
Currently things were quiet. There were no operations underway, save for the one the Marshals were on, which didn't warrant any other attention than theirs. Maria was enjoying herself teaching the girls ballet, Italian and French. Kasey and Kristine had taken to dance as if they were ducks tossed onto a pond. They were also doing well at their other lessons as well. Shawna was settled into her new home in Maryland. Her alias for the NSA had been burned so new credentials were being issued. That was an anticipated complication. More of an annoyance than anything else, but it had been expected. Just not so soon. Tiffany was still in New York. She would be finishing up there soon and then have a two weeks off before going to Moscow.
Krystel had returned from Tampa exhausted. She was also angry. An operative from the Australian Secret Intelligence Service had infiltrated CyberForce. He hadn't gone in to damage, only to find a problem that directly concerned the Australian Navy. On a frequent basis the Australians coordinated with the American Navy in joint operations. The problem was that some of the operations were classified. Sometimes Australia would provide an insertion platform for SEALs in areas that the American Navy wasn't welcome but had to conduct operations. Sometimes against terror cells, sometimes against modern pirates. The Australians had a reputation for being overly friendly where they went and only a threat to understocked bars and men that didn't pay enough attention to their women. Otherwise they mainly went ignored. Which was good; for the Australians and the Americans. Even the British Navy capitalized on the Australians' reputation with operations conducted by Special Boat Squadron. S.B.S. was the British counterpart to American SEALs.
A verbal warning had been sent to the intelligence service that though this incident would be overlooked any repeats would be dealt with harshly. The operative Matt Connelly was flagged and no longer able to enter CONUS. The Australian service back-channeled a message of apology and promise that in the future they would ask for help through channels. The fact the message was back-channeled didn't go unnoticed. It had been done to keep political figures in the dark and therefore the issue put to rest quickly. Had politicians gotten involved, things would have gotten out of hand and jeapardize relations that had been forged over half a century ago.
All that was far from her mind. Lyssa was more focused on the 'at hand' situations. Thankfully the twins were now sleeping through the night. The problem was the island's newest addition, Melinda Valerie Lando. Mindy was the adoptive daughter of LoneStar and Kimberly. At only ten years old the child had been subjected to more than one of the worst horrors that can be inflicted upon a child. She had been a boy. The only child of a political figure with extremist views and had been kidnapped by extremist terrorists. The father went against procedures and protocols and called the wrong entity to rescue his son. A son that immediately paid the price, emasculation. They brutally emasculated him.
After being rescued the father then tried to deny proper medical treatment in an effort to exploit the savaged child for political advancement, including orchestrating his own wife's death to reclaim the child and restore him to a damaged condition. Thanks to Krystel and Kimberly the deception went nowhere. Dannigan had been making more sneak attacks at him. The Congressman was now in disgrace and had fled his district after vacating office. The latest word was that he had fled to Montana and was isolating himself. Dannigan would insure any effort the man made to reach out to anyone would be met with hostility. Kimberly had already determined that he was purchasing liquor in ever increasing amounts. It wasn't time to visit him. Yet.
Mindy was the concern. The child had not wanted nor been inclined to be female. It was inflicted violently. Now she struggled with Post-Traumatic Stress. Lyssa knew about stress, but it was Battle Stress. It was different from the version civilians acquired. Just recently Mindy made the rounds of asking everyone if they suffered nightmares like she and LoneStar did. Everyone except her. Lyssa had also been informed that the child now feared her. Mindy had inadvertently walked in on evaluations of both Shawna and Tiffany. It was the hand-to-hand eval that disturbed the new girl most. She had seen Tiffany and Shawna both engage Lyssa. Both engaged her but neither were able to bring her down. What was unnerving to the other two girls was the eerie silence in which they all fought. As if to utter a sound was tantamount to defeat.
Lyssa had walked along the beach until she reached the stretch facing the end of the runway. She turned and noticed a light on in the main hangar. To her knowledge no one should be up this late. She walked up to the concrete and slipped the plain pumps on then went to the hangar. Carefully she opened the personnel door then walked up to the office. The door was open, which it wasn't supposed to be. Lyssa looked in and was surprised. She had expected one or both of the teens but instead she saw Mindy sitting at Kimberly's desk. On the computer monitor was a video playing. She stepped in silently and could see that the ten year old was watching the video of a killhouse training session. The child was watching in a mixture of both horror and fascination.
Mindy had seen the strange folder icon on the desktop earlier in the day. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her so after bedtime she sneaked out and went to see what it was. Within seconds of the video start she wanted to shut it off but couldn't. In front of her on the screen she watched her aunts and uncle move through a building shooting targets that looked like people. The targets stood still, appeared in windows and doors. The dog Warlock would attack some or a real man in a special suit. Suddenly Mindy felt as if she were being stared at. She remembered something her aunts had said once; 'If you feel it; its probably true and already too late.'
Mindy looked down at the keyboard, "I'm screwed."
"I'll be having a word with you uncles about watching their language around you as well," Lyssa said.
Mindy spun around in shock. She'd expected her adoptive mother, but had been caught by Lyssa.
For a few moments they looked at each other. Mindy in stunned silence and Lyssa patiently biding her time waiting for the girl to speak.
'Will she yell at me? Spank me? Send me away,' Mindy wondered to herself.
"Apparently you found something other than online cartoons," Lyssa said then walked forward, "the problem with curiosity is that once you find answers; you sometimes regret the questions."
"I couldn't help it. I wanted to stop watching but I couldn't," Mindy said.
Lyssa nodded then reached behind her to type then turned her back around to face the screen. The screen had sectioned into five. Lyssa pressed another button and video started playing. It had sound too. Mindy watched her own rescue. More than anything she heard the anger in their voices at what Mindy had suffered. When it ended Lyssa reached over and turned it off then nudged her up and guided her out. They walked down to the beach, took off their shoes and began walking just back from the water. They walked for a while then finally stopped and looked out to sea.
Mindy finally found her voice after a few minutes, "Why?"
"Why did they do it," Lyssa asked, "or why did they do it to you?"
"Both," Mindy replied.
Lyssa was quiet for a few moments then answered, "you were chosen because of who you were. You were the only son of a congressman that they thought had the authority to give them what they wanted. He never would have though, but they didn't understand that. Robert Brice loved power more than anything else. If he saw or heard something that would grant him more of that power, he would seize it. That's why he never made deals, he refused to bargain or share."
"Oh," Mindy said.
"They hurt you because to them its the worst possible thing to do. To take away that which makes a man a man condemns that man to Hell for them. When they die their body must be intact in order to go to their Heaven," Lyssa explained.
Mindy thought for moment then asked, "aren't they the kind that blow themselves up too?"
Lyssa laughed, "yes. They're lied to. Their leader lies to them that the rule doesn't apply if they die killing people that don't believe in their god. The leaders would never do that themselves because they know its a lie. That goes back to the question of why did they do what they did. Religion, brotherhood, family devotion. Melinda we can look for reasons from this moment until Hell has frozen over. We'd find those answers too but it wouldn't matter."
"It wouldn't," Mindy asked confused.
Lyssa shook her head, "not in the slightest. They did that because they were evil men. That's the only reason that would matter. They have their idea about God. Some of them are crazy and believe that people who don't believe like they do should be killed. Anything they do in their god's name is acceptable in their minds. Religion is a dangerous thing Melinda. It can drive sane people crazy. Any wrong they do is acceptable as long as they do it for their god."
"The ones that did this to me weren't killed. Why Aunt Lyssa? You kill people. Don't you? Bad people? Why didn't you kill all of them," Mindy asked.
Lyssa sighed, "an example had to be made. They don't fear being killed. They fear failing and everyone knowing that they failed. If your father hadn't made a media spectacle of the whole thing they would have eventually been brought here to be killed. Instead everything went public. I'm sorry Melinda, Jail cell justice is all you get. The last one was murdered today by other inmates. Prisoners are a strange bunch. They murder and rape, deal drugs to children no older than you and will steal anything they can get away with. One thing that's taboo is to intentionally harm a child. To rape or murder one is taboo to them, not allowed. To do what happened to you is even worse. I'll tell you the truth; they tore him to shreds. over fifty of them. We received the report today."
Mindy shivered as she pictured that in her mind.
Finally Mindy asked, "can you make Daddy's nightmares go away?"
"No," Lyssa said sadly.
Mindy's jaw dropped. From how everyone talked, they thought she could do anything yet here was her imposing aunt admitting that there was something she couldn't do.
Lyssa turned and knelt down to be at Mindy's level, "people that have been hurt so badly that their body is damaged have it harder than anybody else. They see that damage and are reminded of how it happened. When he looks in the mirror he remembers how he got that way. There's more to it but I don't know the whole story. I don't know because he hasn't told me, that's his business. He tells who he tells. If he doesn't tell me himself, I'm not supposed to know."
"The compartment thing," Mindy said.
Lyssa chuckled, "yeah. Compartmentalizing. For him its personal. One day you'll leave this island. What you tell people you meet about yourself will be your business. To an extent."
Mindy nodded, "I can't tell that I used to be a boy, who I was as a boy and that I'm adopted. I can't tell what really happens out here either."
"Right," Lyssa said, "Maria and the girls weren't told about you but they figured it out."
"Will my nightmares ever go away," Mindy asked.
Lyssa tilted her head, "that's a good question. I'm not sure but maybe. To be more realistic, their effect on you may get smaller. That's not going to happen on its own though."
Mindy looked confused again, "It won't? Can you make it happen?"
Lyssa shook her head, "no Melinda, I can't. Only you can. You have to chose to fight it. Just talking about it isn't enough. There's no pill to take for it either. The only thing you can do is fight. This is a fighting that I can't teach you. You'll have to figure out how yourself. Sometimes you have to figure things out on your own. This is one of them."
Mindy asked, "OJT?"
Lyssa stood up and laughed, "yeah. On Job Training."
Mindy yawned. She tried not to but couldn't resist.
Lyssa nodded to the side, "bed little girl. March."
Mindy looked and saw they had been standing in front the cottage the whole time they had been talking.
"Yes Ma'am," Mindy said then stopped, "Aunt Lyssa. I'm afraid of you."
Lyssa bent down again, "Mindy. You've never had a reason to be afraid. I'd never hurt you. I am a little disappointed that you went into computer files that you weren't supposed to, but I think we've covered that now and you won't do it again."
"Will I work for who you work for? Who's the Major? Will I ever see Mr. Paul again," Mindy asked.
Lyssa shrugged, "you will be whatever you want to be. You don't have to do what we do. The Major and Mr. Paul are the same person, and yes he'll come down here some time. He asks about you often. Never forget that we all love you Mindy. We do because we can. Just like we protect you. We do because we can."
Mindy understood now. She was under the care of people that would never let anyone hurt her again. They would all fight. A team that would never quit, led by an aunt who would never lose. Her father taught them how to fly. Her mother made them all disappear. Uncle Rodrick showed them water was a place to fight and win. Aunt Lyssa led them into the battles and brought them all home after it was over. She went back to her bed and laid down with only one question left. Who could teach her how to fight in dreams?
Sam Redcloud was pissed. Once again the witness had been found. Another safehouse compromised. Too many people knew the locations to start with. There had to be a mole to tell which ones were being used though. Someone from either his office or one of the cops assigned to the protective detail. It couldn't be any of the four currently assigned. The hit team that went in had done so with the intent to kill everyone. It was by pure chance that one of the officers had seen them coming and led them all out. Another team hadn't been so lucky the day before with a different witness. They had all been killed in a hail of gunfire. The Crime scene unit reported that the weapons had been assault rifles both times.
The witness that was being targeted was for the case against the Caldera brothers. A local syndicate that had started out small; prostitution, narcotics sales, dog fighting and theft. Now they were high level in the area and had added extortion, police corruption, weapons, narcotics and human trafficking to their names. She was an eighteen year old freshman at University of New Mexico from Indianna. Had she been local she'd have never come forward about the kidnapping and rape. They had targeted her for trafficking. She had been lucky and in a moment of distraction escaped. Unlucky for her she had been raped by Benecio Caldera, the younger brother. She had pressed charges and was now the only witness for the case. Word went out immediately that a contract had been put out on her.
Sam needed to find something else. Some place that nobody knew about to use. He stared at his desk thinking and then it hit him. He had dated a woman that was a realtor for a while shortly after coming to Albuquerque. She had mentioned renting out houses and apartments when celebrities came to town. He would call her in the morning. For now the officers were driving aimlessly around the outskirts of the city. They would do that until he found them a new place in the morning.
Thomas Daymoon's vision ended and he stopped his chant. He was now more confused than ever. He had never had two visions before. The same vision repeatedly yes, but never two different. Both had two totems that were the same. He knew who those totems were. He would have to take a long journey to meet them. He got up, put on his shirt and boots and started walking. The Tribal President would know how to find them. Two miles later he was knocking on the door.
Chapter 2
It was late afternoon when the Hangar's phone rang.
Kimberly reached over and picked it up, "Ram Air Charters."
A moment later she ran to the door and called for Lyssa and Rodrick. Both came up and Lyssa took the phone.
"This is Lyssa," she said.
The voice replied, "How Kimimela."
Lyssa was surprised, "How Thomas. This is a surprise, but its nice to hear from you."
"I am no longer curious about the airplanes now Kimimela. It was a long journey to your Bahamas," Thomas Daymoon said.
Lyssa snapped her fingers to get Rodrick's attention again, "you're at the airport in Nassau? Rodrick will come get you. Ask someone to show you the private terminal and you'll see him in an hour."
Thomas replied, "the private terminal? I will go there now and see Wambli-Mni soon then."
Lyssa disconnected and looked at Rodrick, "he must be desperate."
Rodrick nodded, "yeah but what could make a dirt poor old medicine man get on a plane and come all the way here?"
"No idea. We'll find out when you bring him back," Lyssa said.
"No sweat. I like that old man. He's cool," Rodrick said and grabbed the clipboard for the Bell helicopter.
Two hours later Thomas Daymoon followed Rodrick into the sitting area on the ground floor of the hangar.
"Welcome Thomas," Lyssa greeted him with a smile.
Thomas gave her a half smile back, "How Kimimela. I am no longer curious about the helicopters. I think the airplanes are better to ride in."
Everyone chuckled as did he.
"You have many friends here. I am glad of this. When last I saw you, it was like looking across a canyon. Now I feel like I am truly standing in front of you. This is good. I have come to you to ask for help. The need is great. And small. I am very confused," Thomas said.
"If we can help, we will Thomas," Lyssa said and gestured to the couch for him to sit.
He shook his head, preferring to stand.
"I saw a Cloud take the shape of man. The cloud was red. Red Cloud Man stood in a village in the desert. Coyotes surrounded Red Cloud Man. They snapped and jumped at him. Their paws left behind white prints that blew away with the wind. Red Cloud Man is protecting Rabbit. Coyotes will kill Red Cloud Man and Rabbit. They are hunting Rabbit. Rabbit knows Coyotes' secrets and will tell Man Who Sits High. Rabbit must tell Man Who Sits High the secrets. Butterfly and Eagle from Water fight Coyote. That is my first vision," Thomas said.
"I can understand why you'd be confused," Pete remarked.
Thomas nodded, "yes. Some of it already makes sense. Red Cloud Man would be Samuel RedCloud. He left the tribe to go learn your laws. He is somewhere south now."
"Krystel," Lyssa said.
Krystel was already on her laptop, "searching. Samuel RedCloud. Assistant District Attorney for Albuquerque New Mexico. Grew up on the reservation and left for Texas A and M. Graduated Suma Cum Laude. Criminal Law. He's licensed to practice in Texas, South Dakota and New Mexico. He also serves as additional legal counsel to the tribe. Good record. High conviction rate. VERY thorough in case prep. Current outstanding: charges against one Benecio Caldera; kidnapping and rape. Um. There's an addendum. The case is cross-referenced with open cases. Murders, trafficking."
"That's the surface. Dig deeper," Kimberly said.
Krystel nodded, "yes Ma'am. DEA has them too. Ut-oh. They believe the Caldera brothers are in with a cartel out of Mexico. Possibly the Mendoza cartel."
"That's a heavyweight name," Rodrick remarked.
Lyssa spoke up, "so the vision is Samuel RedCloud is protecting a witness against these Caldera brothers and they're trying to kill said witness and RedCloud as well. Your vision makes sense now."
"Yes. You have found the truth of my first vision. I was right to come to you," Daymoon said.
"First vision? You've had two? I thought one couldn't have a second vision until the first has come to pass," Lyssa asked.
Thomas chuckled, "you are well learned Kimimela. But if there is connection between the two visions then a second will be seen."
"What's the second vision," Kimberly asked.
"It is the most confusing. Fawn is injured and fearful. Fawn suffers torment in and out of DreamWorld. Fawn is guarded by many totems. Eagle From Water, Butterfly, Dove, Moth, Firefly, a Dark Star, Music of Pipe and a creature I don't know. It swims around and around protecting. I have never seen this creature. It swims and jumps high out of water. All these totems protect Fawn. Fawn does not go into the Canyon Of Peace in DreamWorld. Coyotes chase Fawn and drag Fawn away. If Fawn does not enter the Canyon Of Peace Fawn will darken and become Spider. That is my second vision," Thomas stated.
Krystel spoke up, "Sir. The swimming creature. Does it look like this?"
Thomas looked to a picture on her laptop.
The old man looked and nodded, "that is the one I have seen."
"Dolphin," Krystel said.
LoneStar asked, "what kind of person has a fawn as a totem?"
"A child. Children are Fawns until their totem chooses them unless their medicine is very strong when they are given by the Great Spirit. I feel strong medicine here," Thomas said.
"Here? The island," Kimberly asked.
Thomas Daymoon stared at her, "in this room."
"I'll help with your problem," Lyssa said.
Rodrick shook his head, "ut-uh. WE'LL help."
"WE then. Mr. Daymoon please be our guest here for a while," Lyssa said.
Thomas nodded, "I would like to see this ocean I have been told about. My thanks Kimimela."
"Outside and any direction. Wander as you like," Rodrick said.
Thomas Daymoon nodded, "thank you Wambli-Mni."
They watched him go outside.
Lyssa looked over to Kimberly, "send the Major a packet. Tell him its a favor repayment."
"I'm on it," Kimberly said and went up to the office.
Lyssa and Rodrick went to their house to collect what they needed.
Mindy was walking along the water. She could do that alone just not go in without an adult. She spend time on the beach while Kasey and Kristine were having ballet lessons. Mindy was looking for a new shell as she had taken to collecting them. She stopped short when she saw an old man standing on the beach looking out at the water.
"Hello," Mindy said cautiously.
Strangers were unusual. The adults usually told her if something important was happening. Mindy glanced to the side. Uncle Carl had taught her how to tell if there was a riptide and it could be used to get out into deep water fast. There was also an undertow too. If she held her breath it would pull her down and out away from the beach and then she could swim further down to Aunt Lyssa and Uncle Rodrick's house.
The man looked over and smiled, "How little one. I have heard many stories of the ocean but I've never seen it before. It is a powerful thing. I can feel it very strongly."
Mindy tilted her head, "you've never seen the ocean before? Not even on tv?"
He shook his head, "I do not have one."
Mindy had stepped closer to the water and it now swirled around her feet. She felt something bump and looked down. She reached down and picked it up.
"What is that you have," The old man asked.
Mindy held it up, "its an oyster. They stick themselves to rocks. They eat little bits of stuff that float in the water. Its odd to find one like this."
The man smiled, "not very good looking is it?"
Mindy laughed, "no. You can eat them if you open them up. You have to force the shell open to get to the part you can eat. There's a trick to it."
Mindy looked around and found a common shell. She broke the shell and pressed the sharp end into a spot.
Thomas watched, "it looks difficult."
Mindy nodded then smiled as the point gave and the shell opened. She pulled it the rest of the way open and showed him.
"It must be very good if it looks like that," Thomas chuckled.
Mindy giggled, "they do look bad. Momma and me like them fried, everybody else will eat them like this. I think they're yucky like this."
Mindy was looking and saw something odd. She poked at it and a pearl slid into view. She picked it out and held it up.
"WOW! Its a pink pearl," Mindy said.
Thomas bent down and looked, "do all have them?"
Mindy shook her head, "NO SIR! Its really hard to find one like this. Stuff gets inside the oyster. Like sand. and the oyster doesn't like it, it hurts. So the oyster makes stuff to go around it. Years and years go by. and that's how a pearl is made. Most of the time the pearl is white but every now and then something happens and the pearl can be black, grey or even pink."
"That's very interesting. So a pearl is a gift. A treasure from the ocean," Thomas mused.
Mindy looked at it, "yeah. That's right. Most pearls are harvested. People have to go get them."
Thomas looked thoughtful, "but that one came to you. You are supposed to have it. I have learned new things. Thank you little one."
Mindy watched as he turned to the water and sang words she didn't know.
He looked down when he finished, "that was a song of thanks. The big water has shown me its kindness and you have shared your knowledge. It is always wise to show worthiness after you have been gifted."
Mindy thought about that and saw the sense in it
She turned to the open water and said, "thank you for the pretty pearl. I'll take good care of it."
Thomas nodded in approval, "this is good. The Great Spirit is pleased with this."
"Are you an Indian chief," Mindy asked.
He shook his head, "just an old man keeping to the ways of his people little one. This is quite a journey. I am learning things. Stories I can share with my people back home."
Mindy thought about that then remembered her manners, "I'm Mindy."
"I am Daymoon. When the Great Spirit said I should come into the world the Moon loved the Sun. The white men said long ago we should have two names like they do. I was given Thomas. Thomas Daymoon," Thomas told her.
Mindy looked around, "you should take some shells. You can show them when you go home and tell stories."
"That is wise," Thomas nodded as they began to walk along.
Mindy started sharing what she had been told about the ocean and the things in it she had learned from her uncles. In the distance the GulfStream took off.
Benecio slammed the phone down in anger.
"Bad news," Luis Caldera asked.
The sarcasm didn't go unnoticed.
"The Indian bastard has hidden that bitch. Our man in the police doesn't know where this time," Benecio snarled.
Luis sighed, "double the price."
"WHY? Its much easier to force one of them to tell us or bring her to us," Benecio Caldera said.
Luis shook his head, "fool. I've told you before, I'll say it again. It is far better to pay people than to force them. Money makes them agreeable. Forcing them making enemies that will one day come back. Dollars will always be more effective than bullets. Why do you refuse to understand that?"
"Its less money for US stupido! You would give away all OUR money," Benecio almost shouted.
"No. I would BUY important things. People that will give us information we need or services we can not perform ourselves. I told you; hire the best and pay them what they want. Every time a person is killed, their friends and family become our enemy. We will eventually be surrounded with no one turn to and nowhere to run. That is stupid. If you pay people what they want then they have no reason to go against us. That is business. We are businessmen, not simple street thugs anymore. Do as I say. Double the offer to fifty thousand for the girl," Luis said and walked out of the living room.
He went upstairs to his private study and poured a drink. After a sip he took out his cellphone and dialed a number.
"Hello. I've been thinking we should go on vacation. Somewhere tropical. Costa Rica springs to mind. Pack for a two week stay. I'll pick you up in the morning around seven-thirty," Luis said in a seductive voice then disconnected.
He then reached into the hidden compartment of a desk drawer and brought out another phone and turned it on. When it had service he dialed a number. It was answered on the third ring.
"Hello James. doing well I hope? Good good. I'm wanting to take a vacation, is your plane available? Excellent! Oh, no. No Benecio will not be coming along. Just myself and Alan," he said then laughed, "yes a romantic getaway for two. Costa Rica. Very good. We'll see you first thing in the morning. About eight. See you then."
Luis disconnected then turned the burn phone off and hid it back in the desk. He would leave early in the morning. Benecio and the bulk of the men would sleep at least until noon. Not that any of them would see him leave. No one had ever really looked at the plans for the house so only he and the builder really knew about the staircase behind the second bookcase in his study. It led down through the basement to a tunnel that went to a closed sewer. There was an opening half a mile away to get into a storage building he rented. Inside was a mercedes with two suitcases in the trunk. In one of the suitcases he had been hiding Bearer Bonds. So far he had five million dollars in Bonds. If he emptied the safe he would be walking away with a total of seventeen million in Bonds and over three hundred thousand in cash.
Luis knew Benecio had a safe in his room. He also knew the contents. A hundred thousand in cash, seven hundred thousand in Bonds and two kilos of cocaine. Uncut cocaine. Benecio also kept a pistol in the safe along with videos of women he had personally broken for trafficking. Luis hadn't been surprised that his younger brother used the numbered streets that bordered their original territory as the combination to the safe. No other numbers held any sentiment to him.
A few odds and ends went into a briefcase and he set it on the corner of the desk. Yes, it was definitely time to go on a permanent vacation before the police came. He had a feeling that when they did come for Benecio, he would try to fight them off. Luis was no fool, he knew that Benecio never put aside the street mentality. That kind of thinking was a direct route to prison or the grave. Neither of which appealed to him. Better to slip away before they could claim him. Luis hated to admit his younger brother was a lost cause, but there was nothing more he could do. Benecio was spending more time using their products than marketing them. He was envisioning himself as the movie character Tony Montana and forgetting how the movie ended, with Montana dead in a brutal shootout. Luis had no intention of resembling any of the other characters in the film.
chapter 3
Lyssa and Rodrick had flown into Albuquerque early that morning. Their flight plan had been to show they had come from Los Angeles heading east. They're actual path had been to Mexico up to LAX then over to Albuquerque. The pretense was that they stopped in for Rodrick to rest. They would spend the day prepping for the incursion. Kimberly and Krystel had been able to find the house blueprints listed. Among other things. Including the secret car Luis had hidden.
"Get some sleep baby. I'll wake you up after a while," Lyssa said to Rodrick.
Rodrick kissed her and went to bed. Lyssa started going over everything and making her own drawings. The conference window opened on her laptop. It was Kimberly.
"What's up," Lyssa asked.
"One of the brothers has bailed," Kimberly said.
Lyssa shook her head, "shit. Which one?"
"We didn't catch it yesterday but two calls went out from the hardsite. Apparently Luis has a boyfriend. He called him and instructed him to pack for two weeks, said they were going on vacation," Kimberly informed her.
"Means and ETD," Lyssa asked.
Kimberly nodded, "yeah that was the second call. He used a burn phone to call a private pilot. That guy's legit. He filed a flightplan to Costa Rica. They took off at eight local. Sorry."
Lyssa sighed, "he's secondary anyway. Benecio is the primary. What's his status."
"Set up to go down guns blazing more than likely. Still on location at the hardsite. Nothing planned that we know of other than wait for word on the witness' location to order in his hit team," Kimberly stated.
"Anything of note," Lyssa asked.
Kimberly nodded had turned grim, "word is he's also using. Coke. Lyssa don't play around with this guy. We both know coked up assholes are harder to put down. Also there is surveillance on the house. visual and phone taps. Three hard-lines and four cellphones are currently being monitored. The cops didn't get Luis because he's been changing cellphones on a regular basis. They don't have the talent or equipment to infiltrate his computer and won't go to the Feds for help because they want the collar bad. Word is that Benecio may have killed two under-covers."
Lyssa sat back in the chair, "ok. I want to do a quick in-and-out anyway."
"That's good," Kimberly said.
"Don't worry Kim. We're not even going to leave a footprint in the sand. How's our guest," Lyssa asked.
Kimberly tilted her head, "oh he's charming. Mindy's really taken to him and the girls are fascinated. Maria thinks he's 'a delightful throwback'. He's enjoying every second here. Something strange though. Any time Mindy starts getting some distance from him Warlock tries to herd her back. Its like he knows that Daymoon is important to her."
"And the twins," Lyssa asked.
Kimberly shook her head, "know mommy's not home. They're cranky."
Lyssa nodded, "we'll be back tomorrow."
Kimberly nodded and closed the conference. Lyssa went back to work. She finished her planning then went to lay down with Rodrick. At seven they woke up and called down for room service. They went over the plan and adjusted it while they ate then went back to sleep. They woke up at midnight then got ready to leave and checked out just before one in the morning. Rodrick had rented a car at the airport so they were able to drive themselves. Fortunately there was a nightclub close to the storage place rented by Luis Caldera under a fake name. Rodrick parked in the lot and they carried their duffles. It took only ten minutes to gain access to the sewer. Quickly they changed. Rodrick into basic black BDUs and jungle boots with a new generation SEAL tactical vest. Lyssa changed into her form-fitted battlesuit and weapons' rig. Their facial camo went on next and pulled on gloves then set nightvision goggles on the heads and moved out.
Slowly they made their way down the pipe large enough to walk upright until they saw three infra-red beams crossing it and several feet further on another set of beams. The goggles revealed the beams perfectly and were able to be avoided. Unfortunately they had to slide the goggles up and use a flashlight to find the hidden door. Carefully they opened it, checking for any other detection devices. There was a pressure switch, similar to the kind for turning on the light in a refrigerator. A knife blade held the post down while the door was opened fully. Rodrick disabled it and they lowered the goggles and went in. Every ten yards along the tunnel they saw a single beam. Lyssa backed Rodrick off.
"What is it," Rodrick asked in a whisper.
Lyssa whispered back, "I don't like it. Looks too simple. Why go to the trouble of hiding all this so good and leave it wide open like this?"
Rodrick thought about it then asked, "anti-personnel?"
"I would," Lyssa replied, "keep me out of the beams."
"No sweat," Rodrick said and slid the goggles back down.
Lyssa used the Fairbarne-Sikes knife and a flashlight to work forward. It didn't take long for Lyssa's intuition to pay off. An improvised pressure plate was discovered between a set of beams. It was rigged to a molotov cocktail. Several yards further another that was rigged to a makeshift claymore, an open-end pipe bomb stuffed with nails. After that it was clear until they got to the spiral steps. They were metal.
Rodrick tapped her shoulder, "electrified."
Lyssa slithered underneath and found a switch in the on position. The wires from it were running to the stairs itself. Rodrick pulled her back then simply spit on the bottom tread. Nothing happened. He dropped his dive knife next. Nothing. He collected his knife and Lyssa led the way up. At the top they saw another refrigerator switch device. Rodrick disabled it and carefully opened the door.
A darkened study greeted them. Slowly they edged into the room and looked around. Rodrick went to the outer door and listened. Lyssa searched the desk. She then went over and whispered to him.
"This is the older brother's study. Nothing important here except a post it with a safe combination on it. Says its Benecio's," Lyssa whispered.
Rodrick nodded, "sounds like the bulk of the noise is downstairs, but I do hear something down the hall."
Lyssa held up a pistol, "this was in a holster under the middle drawer."
"Works for me," Rodrick said and slowly opened the door.
He looked down the hall then angled around to check the other direction. It was empty. Lyssa picked up a small rug and set it by the bookcase door. Rodrick edged out into the hall and Lyssa followed. They moved down the hall working opposite sides until Lyssa waved and hand signaled 'enemy detected'. Rodrick joined her and they cracked the door open and looked inside. The room was dim inside but Lyssa could see Benecio sitting naked on the bed.
"Hurry up bitch or you don't get none," Benecio called out.
A woman's voice called back, "I'm just gonna rinse off. Don't snort it all!"
From her vantage point Lyssa could see a woman enter a shower stall with water already running. Benecio stood up and looked into the ensuite and flipped her off. Lyssa and Rodrick bolted into the room. Rodrick grabbed him from behind, clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him back to the edge of the bed. Lyssa jammed the barrel of the pistol under his chin and pulled the trigger. Brain matter and blood erupted from his head to splatter the ceiling. Rodrick let him fall back on the bed then went over to the large safe to the side. Lyssa rubbed the back of her gloved hand to Benecio's. The woman in the bathroom heard nothing as she was washing her hair and the report had been muffled somewhat. Rodrick tried the numbers on the paper and the safe unlocked. He looked in the bag at the bottom and pulled it out. He made the 'money' sign to Lyssa. Lyssa placed the gun in Benecio's hand. Rodrick tossed her a kilo of the cocaine and she used Benecio's left hand to gouge a hole in it with his finger then poured some onto the dresser next to a mirror that already had four lines on it. There had been more but Benecio had just snorted some.
Rodrick took dvd's and other electronics out of the safe and stuck them in the beside table with the drawer slightly open then took the phone off the hook and dialed nine-one-one. Lyssa signaled for them to extract. he followed her out and back down the hall. Just as the bookcase door was closing they heard a woman scream. They quietly went back down the stairs, switched on the electricity and went back down the tunnel dragging the rug behind them. Rodrick was tempted to leave the rug discarded in the sewer but Lyssa shook her head. They held onto it all the way back to the storage location. After cleaning up and changing back into civilian clothes they tossed the rug into a dumpster going back to the rental car. An hour later the Gulfstream took off winging its way east.
Sam RedCloud answered the phone and grumbled out, "yeah?"
"Benecio Caldera is dead and Luis is in the wind," a voice said.
"WHAT," Sam yelled.
"Nine-one-one got a call and they think the phone was left off the hook. A few minutes later a woman screamed. After that several men could be heard demanding to know what happened. The surveillance team went in since they had probable and found them all in the room arguing at what happened," the voice informed him.
Sam was already up and moving, "I'm getting dressed now. Be there in fifteen minutes."
Almost twenty minutes later he walked into the bedroom and looked around. Four crime scene techs were working.
A Detective walked over, "sorry to wake up Sam but you had to see this."
Sam waved him off, "its ok Frank. What's what?"
"Well its like this. The girlfriend says she and Benecio were partying and were about to pick up where they left off. She goes to take a jump shower and when she comes back; Benecio's splayed to the four points. She screams and the boys come up. they start grillin' her thinking she did it. the team came in about then and everybody shut up except the girl. She's hysterical. She confessing to everything she ever did in her life," Frank informed him.
Sam rolled his eyes, "well make sure you get it down if she confesses to Kennedy and Hoffa."
Frank laughed, "yeah I'll do that."
Another Detective called out, "Sam you you gotta see this. We got video here of Benecio raping several women."
Sam went over and looked at the laptop and the video on it. The woman looked familiar. The Detective shifted to another segment and another woman that looked familiar was suffering the same treatment.
"Make sure you run them through Missing Persons," Sam said.
He went over to a tech and asked, "what do you have?"
"This has a lot of marks of suicide or staged suicide," the tech informed him.
Sam looked down at the body then asked, "test for GSR?"
The tech nodded, "yeah. Its there but strange."
"What do you mean," Sam asked.
"Its there. Its where its supposed to be but I dunno. Something feels off about it," the tech replied.
"Gun's registered to Luis," Frank said, "I just put out a B.O.L.O. on him."
"Hey he may be trying to drive out of town," an officer said coming into the room.
He held up a paper, "I found a registration to a mercedes in another name in his desk. There's an empty holster attached to the underside of the middle drawer."
"See if this gun fits it and update the B.O.L.O. to include that car," Sam said.
A technician opened the safe. Inside they saw two kilos of cocaine, a pistol and a few other things.
Sam shook his head, "christmas came early. We won't be needing our witness anymore now that Bene bit the bullet."
He took out his phone and called the protective detail. She would be clear to go home in twenty-four hours to insure any would-be assassins heard the contract was no good anymore.
Chapter 4
Mindy sat on a towel on the beach watching the waves roll in. It was late afternoon.
"You've finished lessons for the day little Fawn," Thomas Daymoon asked.
Mindy smiled, "all done."
He could tell she was antsy about something.
"What is it that has you so excited," Daymoon asked.
Mindy pointed out to the cove, "Uncle Carl says there's a pod of dolphins in the area. He saw them and they might come into the cove again."
Daymoon looked out to the water, "they don't stay in these waters?"
Mindy shook her head, "They probably don't like the noise. They have really good hearing. That's how they get around in the water. They make a noise and the sound bounces back to them. Like a bat does only in the water. The planes and helicopters make a lot of noise."
"I see. Fawn what is that in the water," Daymoon asked pointing further out.
Mindy looked and saw a curved dorsal fin, "that's a fin. Its curved! That's a dolphin!"
Moments later three more broke the surface and soon after the pod began to play. They jumped in high arcs out of the water and splashed spectacularly. Mindy clapped and smiled watching them. For several minutes they enjoyed the wild entertainment. Then the pod swam back out into deeper waters.
"That was amazing," Mindy exclaimed.
Daymoon agreed, "yes. This will be a good story to tell. Dolphins?"
Mindy looked up, "yes sir. What's the name for them in your language?"
Daymoon shook his head, "we don't have a special name for them."
Mindy looked puzzled at that, "you don't?"
"The Lakota are a plains tribe. There's no ocean there," Lyssa said from behind them.
"Hello Kimimela. You've awoken and seen to your babies," Daymoon asked.
Lyssa nodded, "I see our Melinda has been sharing all she knows."
Daymoon chuckled, "knowledge is a treasure to be shared Kimimela."
Lyssa nodded, "that it is."
"I wish I could swim with them," Mindy said.
Daymoon looked over at her, "they seemed friendly."
Mindy shrugged, "sometimes they are but I'm small so they might get rough with me Uncle Carl said. Aunt Lyssa?"
Mindy turned to look but Lyssa was gone.
"She went back," Daymoon said.
Mindy shook her head, "aunt Lyssa moves quiet."
Daymoon chuckled, "that is not surprising of Kimimela."
Mindy looked up, "you keep calling her that name. What does it mean?"
"Kimimela is Butterfly. That is her totem and spirit guide. Butterfly is the bringer of change. Some time ago Kimimela came to our tribe. She brought with her a scholarship for Jessie TwoHawks to go to California. In the college there Jessie learns many form of dance and shares our traditional dances with the scholars there. This was a great chance for sharing. Change. For this great opportunity she was given a name among our tribe; Kimimela. You uncle was also given a name. Wambli-Mni. Water Eagle," Daymoon informed her.
Mindy nodded, "because Uncle Rodrick was a Navy SEAL."
Daymoon smiled, "yes. He is a warrior that is in the sky and the water. His totem is the eagle."
Mindy thought about that then asked, "do I have a totem? A spirit guide?"
"All children are fawns. They are fawns until their totems and spirit guides find them. Sometimes it takes a while for that to happen," Daymoon said.
"Aren't they the same," Mindy asked.
He shook his head, "not always. Jessie TwoHawks is like that. Her totem is Horse but her spirit guide is Doe. Horse is very strong and Doe is very graceful."
"What if something happened to a person? What if they got hurt really bad? what if they're not who or what they used to be," Mindy asked.
Daymoon shook his head, " that would not matter. The Great Spirit doesn't pay that any mind Fawn. When a person is ready the Great Spirit will call the person, their totem and spirit guide together. If their medicine is very strong when the Great Spirit has them come into this world their totem and guide are with them. Others must wait until they are ready."
"Why do they have to wait," Mindy asked.
"Sometimes their path is unclear. More than one path lay before them and they can't choose easily. The Great Spirit can show you the ways but only you can walk them Fawn. You have many paths open to you but you stand at the beginning. Only you can choose which way you will go," Daymoon said.
Mindy felt tears welling in her eyes, "but I'm not who I was. I can't be that anymore."
Daymoon reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clutch of twigs then a match and scratched it with his thumbnail. He lit the small bundle of twigs and let them burn for a moment then blew out the flames. Smoke started to curl away and he waved it toward Mindy. The smoke drifted around her and she felt like someone had draped a warm blanket over her.
"They took me away. Hurt me so bad. I'm not who I was. I can't be that anymore," Mindy started crying.
Each tear that fell away felt like something horrible, like a poison, coming out of her. Each sob felt like weight being taken off.
"You are surrounded by family that love you. A strong family. Family who would give anything to make sure you are well. The Great Spirit has given you them. Given you something for what was taken away. Perhaps better than what you had. You think that your life has ended. That is not true Fawn. You have been given a new beginning. A life that can truly be your own. A path you will choose for yourself, not one chosen by someone else. For whatever hurt you have suffered; the Great Spirit has given you love and protection. Will you not accept those gifts," Daymoon asked.
Mindy slowly sank onto the towel she had been sitting. Thomas Daymoon began to chant as the sun slowly went below the horizon. LoneStar and Kimberly had quietly walked up behind them. They had heard most of the conversation. When Thomas Daymoon went silent LoneStar eased forward and gently lifted Mindy up. Kimberly picked up the towel and shook the sand from it. Tears were rolling down her own cheek.
"The great battle is coming FireFly. Fawn will go to DreamWorld soon," Thomas Daymoon said.
Kimberly nodded and followed LoneStar carrying their daughter home.
Krystel stepped outside the hangar and stretched. It was going on eleven at night. She'd spent over six hours deep in the ICE of an small array belonging to Libya. She'd found dossiers on agents assigned to the west; the U.S. and Canada. Krystel slipped the files into various agencies databases of known agents. It gave her a small sense of satisfaction. She looked around and could see very well. The full moon had bathed the island in gentle light and glimmered over the water in the cove. She walked down to the water's edge. The whim to go for a moonlight swim hit her and it was irresistible.
Quickly Krystel slipped out of her dress, lingerie and dropped her shoes then ran into the oncoming surf and dove over a wave. The water felt invigorating as she swam. diving down and kicking hard to break the surface. Suddenly she felt a bump then heard a clicking sound beside her. Krystel surfaced quickly and realized the pod of dolphins had come into the cove again. The curious dolphins were investigating her, thinking she was playing as they do. They were quick to join her game. Just to see what they would do Krystel reached out and took hold of one's dorsal fin. It made an arcing surface then dove down. Krystel felt it begining to work its fluke tail and build up energy then broke surface again. In the air she sailed high out of the water and dove back in. Underwater the mammal clicked and squealed in delight and encouraged her to hold on again. Krystel did so. After two more jumps the others of the pod joined in, rivaling to challenge as to which could send her higher and farther. After Krystel broke surface the one that had launched her would rear back and chatter to her.
Krystel laughed and splashed then rejoined them in the game. Finally two swam up and let her grab each one's fin. They raced toward the beach. As the surf began to froth they broke surface and split apart. Krystel was able to ride a wave in at a faster speed. She stood up in the knee deep water laughing. The two that had sent her in chattered back to her then dove away. For a couple of minutes longer she could see them jumping into spectacular flips and twists as they went into deeper water then were gone. Krystel turned to wade ashore and stopped. Thomas Daymoon was sitting by a small fire on the beach.
'what is he doing,' Krystel wondered to herself and went inland.
Krystel knelt down opposite the old Lakota humming to himself.
Without opening his eyes he smiled and asked, "your friends are quite amazing MoonWater."
"I've never heard of wild dolphins playing with humans like that before," Krystel smiled.
"A gift from the Great Spirit. Perhaps as a reward for all the efforts you make in your war against evil. Or a reminder that one should take time for one's self," Daymoon smiled.
Krystel shook her head, "I wouldn't know about that. Better that I don't pretend to either."
Daymoon nodded, "wise. You are as clever as your friends swimming out there MoonWater."
"Is something wrong? Is something keeping you awake DayMoon," Krystel asked.
"Fawn is about to enter DreamWorld. The battle will soon begin. Many will be needed," DayMoon told her.
Krystel frowned, "I get the feeling this is something I've never done before. Perhaps Lyssa would probably know more."
"Kimimela is waiting already," Daymoon smiled.
Krystel felt uneasy. The old Lakota was talking about a form of warfare most people scoffed at. Lyssa herself had mentioned it in passing during their training. They had all been trained in psychological warfare but this was something else. From what was being implied it sounded like psionic and metaphysics. Lyssa had eluded to them before during their training. Even implying that the classified unit she had been on may have even had that capability, hinting at possible telepathic means. Well actually she was more like warning than hinting, including a picture and name of a man that should be avoided at all costs.
"Come MoonWater. Your friends have returned. Join them as you did before and they will show you the way," Daymoon said then began a low song-like chant.
Krystel looked out to the water. The four dolphins called out then dove and began to jump as a group. She visualized reached out and grabbing onto a fin and be pulled along. They dove deep then streaked for the surface and threw her higher than ever before. Suddenly everything fell away and she found herself swimming in a long stretching pool of water spanned by a simple bridge in an open field.
Mindy looked around. She was standing at the end of a trail with a forest behind her, an open field in front of her and in the distance high cliffs with a narrow opening. She felt pulled to go there. She WANTED to go there. Mindy started walking forward. It was a bright pretty day. A breeze gently rippled the high grass. Mindy felt the urge to hop and skip and gave to it. Soon she was smiling as she went along. That smile all but shattered when she heard a growl. Mindy looked and saw a large Coyote snarling and felt fear. Somehow she knew the Coyote was bad and would take her to a dark place of pain and deep fear.
Mindy shook her head, "no. NO! I WON'T GO!"
Mindy bolted, running now for those high cliffs. She would be safe if she went there! She would have to cross a bridge she could see to get there. Suddenly she stopped. The Coyote had snapped its jaws onto her skirt and dragged her to a stop. Another one was running to help it.
"NO," Mindy shouted and lunged forward trying to break free.
There was a splashing sound and Mindy saw an Eagle burst from the water and dive at the Coyote. It shrieked and attacked it with its talons, scratching and slashing. The Coyote let go in yelps of pain as blood spurted from the deep wounds. A Butterfly fluttered past her and the other Coyote tumbled to a stop snarling at it then howled and began to quiver like it was in pain and slowly lay down and not move anymore. Mindy turned and ran again. More Coyotes were coming. A grey Dove streaked down and attacked one fighting it off. A pale Moth stopped the other Coyote as its edged back snarling in anger. Mindy was backing away but had to stop as another Coyote had circled around to cut her off. A powerful Dog bounded into view and it lifted its head to howl but instead it sounded like a pipe or flute sound came out. the Coyote shook its head in confusion or pain then laid down and began to twitch.
Mindy seized the chance and began to run again. She could heard the howls of anger from more as she reached the bridge and began to cross. One grabbed her skirt again and sat down to stop her. From the side a Dolphin leapt out of the water. It slammed into the Coyote and knocked it into the water. Mindy ran again. Almost to the end of the bridge another of the Coyotes closed in.
She shook her head crying and screamed, "STOP TAKING ME AWAY! I DON'T WANT TO GO THERE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
A small light flared in front of her and Mindy ducked. A bolt of lightning went from a small flying bug and hit the Coyote. Mindy scrambled to the end of the bridge just as another Coyote jumped to pounce on her. It fell short and a beam of dark light shined down on it. Mindy looked up and saw what looked like a single Star fall from the sky. The Coyote shrieked and spasm on the ground as the Star stopped above it. Slowly the Coyote began to burn away. Mindy was still crying and struggled to the opening in the cliffs and finally stumbled inside.
"Welcome child. You have been missed," a voice greeted her.
Mindy looked around. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Suddenly she didn't feel tired. The bumps and scrapes didn't hurt. when she looked down her clothes looked clean and untorn. Mindy went deeper and found herself walking into what looked like a field and garden. At one spot she could see men and women playing soccer. On a patio she could see well dressed ladies having tea. Another spot were boys and girls practicing ballet moves and others were drawing pictures. Everyone turned to look at her then smiled and waved hello. She looked to see if anyone was behind her and when she turned back several animals were looking at her.
Mindy looked at them then asked, "will you help me?"
A Wolf approached her and she heard its words in her head, "I am Wolf. I will come to you when you need me most Child. I will show you how to get to the places you want to go."
Wolf came close and nudged her from behind. Mindy stepped forward and saw a large black cat sitting and flicking its tail.
Its big blue eyes looked into hers and she heard, "I am Jaguar. When you need me I will give you the strength to fight for those who can not."
The other animals moved back as Wolf and Black Jaguar brought her forward. Mindy played soccer then joined the ladies for tea. After trying to draw the children practicing ballet she joined them. She was having a lot of fun. That's when she noticed them. All the ones from before at the edge of a nearby pool. The Eagle, Butterfly, Dove, Moth, Dog all were at the edge. Dolphin had reared up in the water. FireFly flickered its light and the single Dark Star was above them all shining. Then she heard a beeping. The beeping grew louder and she felt tired and blinked.
"Good morning honey," Kimberly said and turned off the alarm clock.
Mindy looked around and rubbed her eyes. When did she sleep?
"Are you ok? You look a little confused," Kimberly said.
Mindy didn't say anything just sat there puzzled. She didn't know if what happened was a dream or real? It felt real but also like she had been dreaming.
"This is interesting," Kimberly remarked looking at a dream-catcher over Mindy's bed. She looked closer and realized the threads in the center of the hoop weren't really threads, they were hairs. Different color hairs.
"Mr. Daymoon helped me make it," Mindy said.
"These aren't threads. Are they," Kimberly asked.
Mindy shook her head then looked sheepish, "its hairs from everybody. I kinda took them from their brushes and combs."
Kimberly looked at it then chuckled, "well I guess that's ok. You didn't go around snatching hair out of their heads. They might not have appreciated that."
Mindy giggled, to do that definitely wouldn't have gone over well.
She went and took a quick shower and got dressed then sat down at the table for breakfast. A while later she heard the GulfStream take off.
"I wonder if Mr. DayMoon will see the dolphins again today," Mindy said.
Kimberly shook her head, "honey he just left. Rodrick and Krystel are dropping him off in Nassau before they go to Costa Rica on an errand. They'll be back late tonight after you've gone to bed."
Mindy looked disappointed, "I didn't get to say goodbye. He's really nice Momma."
Kimberly smiled, "yes he is. He did leave a message for you. He said 'continue to learn well and enjoy life little Wolf.' And he thanks you for all the stories and shells he was given to share back home with the tribe."
Mindy smiled and was quiet for a few minutes then asked, "Momma. Do you think Nonnina Maria and Aunt Lyssa will teach me to dance if I ask nicely?"
"Funny you should ask. Lyssa came by during her morning PT and left a note asking that you come over to drink tea with them. Maybe you could ask then," Kimberly said.
Mindy's jaw dropped.
Luis smiled as Alan went out of the room. He was going down to pick out a bottle of Champagne. They would stay there a couple days then go to Bali. He was sad that his brother was dead, but had no doubt he had been killed by an assassin. He had already been gone long before his gun was used to kill him.
Something cool, round and obviously metal nudged the back of his head.
Luis sighed, "so Benecio wasn't enough."
He turned around to see a blonde haired woman in black with black streaks across her face and a silenced pistol leveled at him.
"See the world and the evil in it," She said and thumbed the hammer back.
Luis closed his eyes and mentally said a prayer.
"I see the world; with less evil in it," Krystel pulled the trigger twice.
The double-tap of ten millimeter hollowpoints exploded his head and lodged in the wall. Luis fell to the floor and a pool of blood began to form. Krystel took out her Fairbarne-Applegate and dug the slugs out of the wall. She searched the room and found cash and Bearer Bonds. She left ten thousand in cash and took everything else then left. Rodrick had already refueled and filed his flightplan and was waiting for her on the tarmac. Thirty minutes later they were flying east.
*author's note- Native American ritual has not been proven to treat Battle Stress or civilian PTSD. If you want to try it, I have an open mind and say go for it. Real Native American Medicine People will not lie. They will not make a promise they can not keep. Anybody that does will be wanting something. If you do meet with one, please be very respectful of their ways for it is vanishing and unfortunately may one day be only stories in dusty books.
Book 43 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Everyone is on stand-down, but Lyssa. Her final duty as a DemonWraith and unfinished business. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Stand-Down. Everyone was back on the island, except Shawna and Tiffany. Shawna was in Belder, Maryland at her residence. Tiffany was in Los Angeles now, a two-week stop-off before going to Moscow. Dannigan was on the island, as was Madison for a three-day weekend. Both had taken up teaching the children as well. Madison for office skills and Dannigan was teaching the two teens the in's and out's of Federal and Military Intelligence agencies. He was also giving them insight into the workings of foreign intelligence services, such as Britain's MI-6, Russia's SVR/FSB, Israel's Mossad, Australia's ASIS, Canada's SIS, Chinese MSS, French DGSE, German BND, Italian AISI/AISE, Japanese DIH; to name a few.
The girls were very surprised to learn that even the Vatican had its own intelligence agency, complete with reputation of not playing well with others. They weren't surprised to find out the main reason why there was so little cooperation between the U.S. agencies was money. The more an agency accomplished, the higher of a budget they could lobby for. The top of the food chain being the NRO- National Reconnaissance Office. Simply put, it built and operated all the spy satellites and they were VERY expensive.
In fact, the NRO was one of only ten agencies that had not suffered the recent cleansing of the LOG/Vassago scandal. The reason being, they were too forward thinking. Some were extremely paranoid too, but it came with the territory for people that watched and listened to everything going on using satellites.
"Mr. Paul." Mindy raised her hand then asked. "what about this agency? How did it start?"
Kristine nodded. "Yes Sir. You said that the CIA came from the Office of Strategic Service after World War Two."
Dannigan sat on the edge of the table facing them. "The Office of Immediate Covert Action was created in the 1970's in response to the Jonestown Massacre, the Embassy in Iran crisis, skyjackers, the emergence of the narco-cartels and the Munich Massacre. All those events fell under the category of terrorism. The CIA was under close watch during the 70's because of an incident called The Bay of Pigs. That was a failed attempt to overthrow Fidel Castro in Cuba by CIA sponsored Cuban exiles. It didn't work, the CIA was named publicly and everybody was fairly pissed off."
"That's a lot of stuff!" Mindy remarked.
Dannigan chuckled. "Yes it was and that's not even half of what went on, but it's as far as we can go with your security clearance."
All three girls giggled at his little joke.
"So a whole bunch of things happened and a new agency needed to be created. This agency would always be kept small and draw the bulk of its personnel directly from the Department of Defense. Primarily Intelligence and Special Operations. To give you some examples; Lyssa, Rodrick, Tiffany and Shawna all come from Special Operations, even though Shawna was pulled from OSI. That's the Air Force Office of Special Investigation. She started in ParaRescue then became an MP then went to OSI. You've heard of Army CID and NCIS; OSI is the same thing, but for the Air Force." Dannigan explained.
"OH." All three girls said.
"The O.I.C.A. was founded by Colonel Tom 'Rhett' Butler. They called him Rhett mainly because his last name was Butler, but also because he was from Georgia. He retired from the 525th Military Intelligence Brigade and had been with the OSS during World War 2 as a young Lieutenant. He had a GIFT. He infiltrated German installations and conducted assassinations. After the war the CIA tried to recruit him, but he declined as he was in line for Major. During Vietnam he coordinated with Special Forces and volunteered for Operation Ivory Coast; the raid on Son Tay P.O.W. camp. The mission failed due to out-dated intelligence. Nobody home. After that he went back to missions that involved only himself and had low-survivability." Dannigan said.
Kasey asked. "You mean suicide missions?"
Dannigan nodded, "pretty much. They were called Zulu-Ops. After the fall of Saigon, he was given a non-existent command and began planning and conducting operations back into Vietnam to retrieve certain indigenous personnel. In short; South Vietnamese civilians and soldiers that had been very helpful to us that were not able to escape in time. He planned four hundred missions, led two-hundred and seventy personally and lost only one man. Damned landmine of all things."
"But that's good right? That he got all that done without getting caught. I mean, it sucks to do all that and lose just that one guy. Its like running a marathon and breaking your ankle ten feet from the finish, but you crawl over the line." Kristine remarked.
Dannigan chuckled. "That's a good way to put it young lady. Well after that he went back to the 525th, turning down the CIA again. Side note: he was recruited by the CIA eleven times and never joined. In 1979, he was approached by a young Senator. A week later Colonel Butler no longer existed. Six months later three members of Fifth Group Special Forces 'died in a car accident' while on a weekend pass. The O.I.C.A went operational with missions in South America, Europe and the middle East. That's how small the group was. For the first five years, Colonel Butler answered his own phone and cleaned his own office in Arlington. That office was smaller than this room, had one phone and no computer at all."
"NO COMPUTER!" Kasey and Kristine exclaimed.
"Colonel Butler didn't have a computer until the late 80's and had to hire a tech from M.I.T. just to make it work." Dannigan laughed. "Colonel Butler retired in 1990 and died in 1991. He was replaced by Colonel Kirk Montrose. Colonel Montrose had started out in the infantry and joined special forces. He was a mustang officer and even spent some time with Delta."
"That means he started out as private and worked up to officer. Right?" Mindy asked. "Those officers get more respect faster, don't they?"
Dannigan nodded. "Correct and yes, quite often they do. While he was in Special Forces he went into Intelligence. While he was in Delta, he was their intel officer. In 1990 Colonel Butler recruited him and groomed him as a replacement. Sometime during Colonel Montrose's tenure he recruited a Major that kept hopping back and forth between Special Forces and Intelligence. This Major had no scruples, he had established identities within the CIA, DIA and NSA. Eventually this Major was given command of the O.I.C.A in 2003, while still in the Regular Army."
He smirked at that last part causing the girls to laugh, knowing he was talking about himself.
"And the rest is history!" Kasey laughed.
Dannigan smiled. "The rest is classified."
Kristine asked. "Are you still in the Army?"
Dannigan sipped from a coffee cup. "I have identities still on active-duty, in the CIA, the DIA, the NSA, a Senate Sub-Committee, a Congressional Sub-Committee and two plots for Arlington National Cemetery. I'm pretty busy."
"You mean you have a fake grave in the big military cemetery?" Kasey asked in shock.
"No, I have two. I'm not the only one that does." Dannigan remarked then checked the clock. "That covers today's lesson in Intelligence. I believe, I had the last class of the day."
As the girls began to head out Madison came in and smiled to them while handing Dannigan a sheet of paper. He read it and frowned.
"Anybody else see this?" Dannigan asked.
Madison shook her head. "No Sir. I came straight here with it."
Dannigan nodded then left. He walked over to the main hangar and went below to the T.O.C. Maria was talking with Krystel. Kimberly was working at her terminal and Madison went back to the spare she had been using while on the island.
"Kimberly call in Lyssa. Rodrick as well." Dannigan said. "Bring up all the current information on Brice and give me his latest location and disposition."
A few minutes later Lyssa and Rodrick entered.
Dannigan handed Lyssa the page. "Orders. Go to Camp Dodge, Iowa. You have to visit your Old Man."
Only Rodrick and Dannigan noticed the slight tremor in her hands taking the page as she asked. "Verified?"
"96 hours ago. It's not a reaction to medication, he's lost control." Dannigan stated then added sadly. "Master Sergeant; these are your orders. Carry them out accordingly."
Maria looked around and picked up the veiled sadness then a hardened expression.
Dannigan shook his head. "I'm sorry Lyssa."
"Yes Sir. Me too." Lyssa replied. "Anything else?"
Dannigan nodded and handed over a file. "Unfinished business. Enough time has passed, deal with Brice. Everything you need is in the packet."
Lyssa and Rodrick both saluted and left.
Dannigan turned and left as well. "I'll be on the range."
Maria asked. "Krystel. What was that about?"
Krystel shook her head. "I don't know Ma'am."
"Paul said her old man. I thought Lyssa's parents were deceased." Maria mused.
Krystel nodded. "Yes Ma'am. They are. They died while she was in Special Warfare school. They almost gave her a hardship discharge, but she refused. No reason to leave and no where to go. They allowed her to stay. All duties thereafter are classified."
Maria looked over to Kimberly who shook her head as well then to Madison.
Madison shook her head. "I'm sorry Mrs. DeMarco. This is one of those times I don't understand the message. Usually when it's like that, I'm better off. I went above my clearance once, ignorance is better."
"I remember now. You were hired right out of college." Maria patted her back. "My apologies Dear. Paul explained your situation to me. I had forgotten."
Rodrick packed a bag and looked over to Lyssa. "so how long has it been since he's seen you?"
"I gave him the recognition code right before I went operational again. He might recognize me, he might not. If he does then he also knows why. If he doesn't; who the hell knows what'll happen?" Lyssa answered.
"So what's the other bit Paul gave you?" Rodrick asked.
"Brice." Lyssa replied.
Rodrick looked up from his duffle. "Finally?"
Lyssa nodded.
"About damn time! I thought the green-light would never come for a year or more." the former SEAL growled.
Lyssa closed her own travel case. "Its not so much a green-light; its more along the line of, a four-way stop and we're the only one there."
Rodrick nodded. "Ah. Nobody will be heartbroken should the former Congressman have an accident befall him."
"Pretty much." Lyssa remarked as she checked her purse.
A knock at the doorway interrupted them. Maria stepped inside.
"Might I have word?" Maria asked.
Rodrick grabbed the bags. "I'll take these and have Kim come get the twins."
"Thanks Baby," Lyssa said.
Maria smiled to Rodrick after he winked to her then left.
"Such a scoundrel." Maria chuckled. "I can see why you love him."
Lyssa brushed her hair and looked at Maria in the mirror. "Not so different than you and Dannigan. Does Annette know he's her father?"
"So he told you." Maria sighed.
"No Maria. I could see for myself. Bobby knows as well. That's not what you came to talk about." Lyssa stated.
Maria shook her head. "No; it isn't. I was very confused back in the Command Center. Paul called this person 'your old man'. I, along with the rest of the world, believed your parents to be deceased. Is that not the case?"
Lyssa turned around. "My Old Man is not a relative. I was assigned him when I was inducted into a certain unit. Though I am no longer in that unit, I am still assigned. Every member, no matter how long they are in the unit, are assigned an Old Man. Each Old Man is retired military. Military Intelligence. Some spent time in one of the agencies. When they can no longer care for themselves, they are placed in special retirement homes."
"So 'Old Man' is not the colloquial term, its a title. I follow you so far." Maria said understanding.
"Right. Many live out their final time with nothing more than being moved to one of those facilities. Some, however, have complications. Its not so unusual, when some get old." Lyssa said pointedly.
Maria sighed. "Yes. Dementia and so on."
Lyssa nodded. "Yes. They forget what is secret and what is not. Who is cleared and who is not. Its called Hemorrhaging of intel. Some is embarrassing, some is deadly. Those that have been designated as Old Men have intelligence that is deadly. My Old Man has begun to do this. My final duty to the unit I was in, is to go to my Old Man and settle his conscious."
"Does he understand this?" Maria asked.
"They all do. Each one is given ten candidates to choose from. Full dossiers. When they decide, that candidate visits them to receive their endorsement. A signed military document stating identity and conditions. Even if the candidate leaves service, they are still obligated to their Old Man until death. Actual death. When I became operational again, I visited him and updated everything. He had been very upset and thought he would have to choose again. We convinced the staff there that I'm an estranged grand-niece. Only one knows who and what he is and to report if he should begin to falter. They don't know what I do and that I am coming or why." Lyssa explained.
Maria gave a sad look, "I see. A cruel act of mercy."
Lyssa nodded. "An arrangement of honor Maria. This is patriotism. Loyalty. Dedication to service. Secrets have weight. Old Men carry mountains. Some will crumble to time. Who are we, to say no and command they suffer humiliation, to those who have bore such burdens?"
"That is quite the point Lyssa. This a sad duty for you to uphold, but I see the necessity of it. I know you will be both kind and respectful to this gentleman." Maria said kindly.
Lyssa stood up and Maria followed her as they went to the twins' room and made up a bag for them. Maria carried the bag and Lyssa carried twins in their seats. Kimberly walked in as they got to the front door.
"I'm in time. About how long?" Kimberly asked as she took Alex.
Lyssa shifted Allie to her other hand. "Three days. Four on the outside. No other side-trips."
Lyssa and Kimberly rode in one cart while Maria rode in her own back to the hangars. They took the babies inside the office and set their seats on Rodrick's desk. Maria set the bag down beside it.
"About tomorrow." Kimberly asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Yeah. Maria; I was going to surprise you all with a girls' day in Freeport. Kim, you, Annette, Samantha, Krystel, Madison, Kasey, Kristine, Mindy and Anna; all have appointments at the spa then lunch reservations. I was going to stay behind, but now Kim will have to. I'll make it up Kim."
Kimberly's face hardened. "Make it up to me when you go to see Brice. Make that bastard understand when you do it. Mindy and Clair deserve at least that much."
Lyssa's eyes shifted slightly then she nodded silently. Kimberly didn't miss it and looked to the door just in time to see a small shadow move back.
"Damn. I was sloppy." Kimberly whispered.
Maria caught on and lamented. "I hadn't noticed either. Damn my age for that. Kimberly go see to her, I'll watch the twins. Lyssa you go ahead. I'm sure Rodrick is ready."
Within minutes, the Gulfstream had taken off and was heading Northwest.
Kimberly made her way up the shoreline. She stopped for a moment when she saw Mindy sitting on her 'thinking rock'. All the adults knew she would go sit there when she was upset about something. Slowly Kimberly approached and climbed up to sit on the rock behind her.
"I heard you talking to Aunt Lyssa." Mindy sniffed.
Kimberly sighed. "An unguarded moment on my part. I didn't know you were there until after I said that."
Mindy turned around. "Is Aunt Lyssa gonna go kill him? I don't want to call him my Dad. I don't know what else to call him though."
"That is something to think about. Who is who? To me; you're my daughter. Joe too, you're his daughter. Our little girl. I wasn't there when you born. You didn't come from me, so I don't think I really earned the title of Mommy. I am here now when you need a Mama or Mom. Joe wasn't able to hold you up when you took your first breath. The right of a Father. But he is here now when you hurt so much to take his place as a Daddy or Dad. What you think we've earned, is up to you." Kimberly said.
Mindy felt herself guided into hug as they looked out to the ocean, the waves gently rolling in.
"That sounds like it makes sense. Can it be that simple?" Mindy asked.
Kimberly stroked her hair. " Lyssa, Tiffany, Krystel, Shawna and I. We all gave up our former lives to have this. This is what we wanted. You had your life taken away. We've done all we could, and will continue, to give you the best life we can. We love you and will protect you."
"You do because you can." Mindy repeated Lyssa's words from that night.
Kimberly pressed a kiss to Mindy's forehead. "Yes sweetheart, that's right. Do you want it to be that simple, too?"
The little girl nodded quietly.
"Then it is. Remember sweetheart; you're not alone. All of us are here. Even if Tiffany is half the world away, Shawna is freezing her butt off somewhere in CONUS or if the Major is in D.C. up to his ass in Armani-suited alligators. We're here. Maria thinks of you as another grandchild and the girls think of you more as a little sister than a cousin. Granted; they wanted to be girls and you didn't, but we play the cards we get dealt or draw. Trust me when I say this; things could be much worse." Kimberly remarked.
Suddenly Mindy stiffened and looked alarmed. "Wait! If Aunt Lyssa's gone and you're with me; WHO'S WATCHING THE BABIES?"
"Maria." Kimberly laughed. "Probably Kasey and Kristine as well. I'm not the ONLY qualified baby-sitter you know."
Mindy calmed down. "Oh. I forgot. I think I'd like to talk to Mr. Paul."
"He's on the range. I'll take you there then I have to get back to the office." Kimberly said.
"Ok Mama." Mindy replied then climbed down.
They picked up their shoes and walked back down the beach holding hands.
Dannigan was shooting at a static target. He'd already gone through three magazines for his HK USP .45. When he ejected the spent magazine he noticed movement from the corner of his eye and looked. Kimberly nodded to him then nudged Mindy to go and left. He waved the pre-teen forward and set the pistol down, locked open.
"School's done for the day little one." Dannigan remarked.
Mindy thought for a minute than said. "Joe Lando is my Daddy. Robert Brice is my father. Is Aunt Lyssa going to go kill my Father?"
The big Spook removed the shooting glasses to set beside his pistol. "What if I said yes to that? What if I said no? What would you say to those?"
"When I was in that strange hospital, the one that looked more like somebody's house; I said to Aunt Madi that I didn't think you were in the payback business. I do think it's a hobby that you're REALLY good at though." Mindy remarked.
Dannigan thought about that for a minute then chuckled. "You could put it like that. Maybe so. Didn't answer my questions though."
"Robert Brice is a bad man. He had my Mother killed so he could make me be messed up all over again. He wanted to do that so he could be the President. You said he would lose everything and he did." Mindy stated.
"Almost. He still has his life. He ended your mother's life and wanted to ruin yours. I helped take away his dreams. If he keeps living he might one day try do things again. Right now, he's an outcast alcoholic. If he died in a certain way, not a lot of people would really care." Paul remarked.
Mindy thought about it then asked. "what way?"
Dannigan scratched his chin. "If say, he committed suicide. Or maybe had an accident while he was drunk. For the most part, people wouldn't really care. If he got sober, did charity work and things like that, he could gain strength and go back into politics again. Everything you've suffered and worked through, would be for nothing."
"Would he hurt real bad before dying?" Mindy asked.
Dannigan shook his head. "Sorry, but no. If he were to be hurt a lot then it might not look like a suicide or accident. That would make people ask questions. Its called 'suspicious circumstances'. Better for it to look like he killed himself, on purpose or by accident. Very few people want anything to do with him right now. If he dies like that, then they will just want to quickly forget about him."
"But, wouldn't they forget about my Mother and me too?" Mindy asked.
"Yeah. The double-edged sword cuts both ways honey. They forget him, they forget you. If they forget you, then you're better protected. Not every time is a win-win." Dannigan told her. "Sometimes we have to take 'mission accomplished' over 'mission success'."
"Its not the same thing?" Mindy asked.
"Remember Colonel Butler I told you about earlier? He did all those missions and on one he lost a man. He got the job done; mission accomplished. He lost a man, not mission successful. You can do a mission right, all the way down the line and something still goes wrong, but the job gets done. Its a big difference Mindy, but you only see it if you do the mission. All of us understand that." Dannigan explained.
"Oh." Mindy remarked. "You mean like the men that hurt me. They got caught, but were killed in jail."
Dannigan picked her up and sat her on a table. "Pretty much. They didn't get what they wanted. The world knew what they did and failed to do. They were locked up and NOBODY wanted them to ever get out. The prisoners in there with them though had other ideas. They have their own code. Kids are off-limits. Reason was irrelevant. They went after you, a kid, and hurt you for life. Kidnapping is one thing, as long as the kid gets returned unharmed. You were harmed though. Maimed. That's across the line for them. WAY across the line. It was unforgivable. Strange as it is to say; Convicts do have morals and standards. Some things are just not acceptable." Dannigan said sadly
Mindy nodded. "ok."
Dannigan sighed. "Believe it or not Mindy; there are things worse than death. Sometimes death is the best option on the table. That being said; what do you think?"
"He is a bad person. He did bad things for selfish reasons that would be bad for regular people all over. I'm sad if he has to be killed. But I'm still so mad over what he did and wanted to do," Mindy said. "Mister Daymoon said that the Great Spirit gave me a family and chance at a better life to replace what was taken away."
"He's that old medicine man? Well, that's a way to look at it and makes sense. It can be that simple if you want it to." Dannigan commented. "Sometimes the choices we get, SUCK. We try to take the one that sucks LESS. Does that help any?"
Mindy nodded. "I think so."
Dannigan quickly picked up all the spent casings, loaded a fresh magazine into his pistol, holstered it then picked Mindy up and began to carry her back to the hangars. On the runway they could see Kasey and Kristine setting up cones for a course. The two teens loved the single seat dune-carts Dannigan had gotten for them. There was one for Mindy as well but not as powerful. They would set up courses and chase each other through them. They even had helmets equipped with radios so they could talk back and forth to each other or an adult watching over them. For their time on the runway, they would change the tires to a slick version instead of the knobby off-road tires.
Hunter walked out of the hangar and began to walk their new course lay-out. "Double check your spacing girls."
"OK!" They called back.
Dannigan walked inside and heard Carl call out. He was wearing a wetsuit with the top half tucked down.
"There she is. Just about to send the mutt to look for her." Carl said.
Mindy was set down and she ran over to him. "What's up Uncle Carl?"
"Go get changed into your wetsuit kiddo and hop into your cart. I got your tanks filled so its time to go explore the cove." Carl informed her.
Mindy looked over to his cart and saw the back filled with scuba-gear. Quickly she ran over to the dive lockers and took out her wetsuit and went to change. Carl helped her secure her hair into a ponytail when she rejoined him. The pink, purple and white wetsuit was definitely eye-catching, but in a way that didn't resemble any fish markings. The small air tank was also pink and white. The aluminum tank held sixty-three cubic feet of air. Her first dives were very short, as her excitement consumed the air. The more she dove, the more relaxed she became, extending dive time.
All the adults learned that she enjoyed her time in the water more than riding the cart. The scuba gear was a very much appreciated gift from Dannigan and Maria. Flying the radio controlled helicopter came in second on Mindy's list of fun things to do. LoneStar had built it to be more like a drone, equipped with a camera and set of flight controls in a station like a real helicopter. She could fly it all around the island with no problems and did. Quietly Dannigan slipped out of the hangar and walked to Lyssa and Rodrick's house.
He poured bourbon into a glass then stared out at the sea beyond the pool and yard. "The damnedest duty of them all. I'm sorry Lyssa."
With that he drank.
Chapter 2
Rodrick set the Gulfstream down at Des Moines International Airport late that afternoon and taxied over to the private terminal area. After securing the plane, he and Lyssa rented a SUV. They weren't even bothering with a hotel. Rodrick would sleep on the plane during the night and be ready to fly them out before dawn. The flightplan had already been filed.
"You want to eat now or later?" Rodrick asked closing the last window shade.
Lyssa was unzipping her travelcase. "Now. I won't be hungry later."
Rodrick nodded. "Ok. I'll go get us something from a diner down the road, one of the crew mentioned. Back shortly."
Lyssa pulled the top envelope from her suitcase then opened it and began laying out pages on the table. Photos and building diagrams were arranged. When Rodrick returned with the take-out plates, they ate silently. He understood the weight she was under. Long ago, during the night she shared everything, the subject of her Old Man was discussed. It was one of many things he understood was necessary. He counted himself fortunate never to have been selected for such duty, though was sure the Navy had its own version.
Somehow she forced herself to nap for a couple of hours with Rodrick. At midnight, Lyssa began to get ready. After changing into the black, form-fitting combat suit, she pulled on her boots and gloves then shrugged into the weapons' rig. Silencers were fixed onto the barrels of the two Jericho .40 calibers then a magazine of 'werewolf' rounds were loaded into each. The Fairbarne-Sikes knife was slid into the sheath on her left shoulder strap and a smoke grenade almost concealed it followed by a frag-grenade. On the right strap, she clipped two flash-bang grenades. A small, five-shot 9mm pistol was tucked into the holster of her left boot and smaller knife into the sheath of her right boot. A microsyrette also went into her right boot and finally the Marauder was slid into the sheath at the back of her right thigh.
The last thing to be done, now was. Slowly black lines across her face became the elaborate pattern of swirls to conceal her features. Lyssa picked up the rental's keys and let herself out into the night. Carefully she drove specific roads that took her out of Des Moines to Camp Dodge. There was a very special gate, few knew existed. Of the ones that did know there was a gate there, never could find a key to the lock securing it. The key had been in her possession for years, now popped open the padlock. She left it hanging open in the chain after driving through the gate.
Seven minutes. That was all it took for her to drive to a hidden parking space within sight of the Veteran's Home. Another four minutes brought her to the decorative fence. All the fence posts were topped with a cast-iron eagle, but two posts had the eagles facing each other. That was the marker for the corridor. The grounds had sensors implaced due to Alzheimer patients, but there was one clear area that ran from the fence to the security system box. Lyssa climbed over and carefully high-crawled to it. The box was concealed but she remembered its location and how to open it. A moment later, everything was off for the next hour and the countdown on her watch was running. That was all to be given. One single hour. Forty-five seconds was spent picking the lock on a side door and she was inside.
Brigadier General Franklin Howe suddenly woke up. He felt another presence in the room and looked to see a shadow figure standing at the window.
"Who's there?" He asked.
Lyssa turned, showing the markings on her face. "Hello General. I apologize for waking you, Sir."
The old man sat up. "I remember you now. Have I come to that?"
"Yes Sir." Lyssa replied quietly then approached. She stood at attention and saluted. "Reporting for duty General."
He returned a tired salute. "As you were. It's been so long. Would you believe that they haven't let me go outside for three months."
"Its been colder than witch's tits in a brass bra General. I'd keep you indoors around here too." Lyssa replied as she sat on the edge of the bed.
General Howe frowned. "Wise-ass Non-Com. Think you all run the Army."
Lyssa had to laugh quietly. "Of course we do General. All we need are Enlisteds to do what we tell them and Officers to sign-off on it."
"If THAT isn't the God-awful truth." General Howe remarked.
Lyssa stood up then went over to the wall-locker and took out his Class-A jacket and hat. "Well General? Why don't we show them all what-for?"
The old General took both and with a bit of difficulty, put them on. "Damn straight."
Lyssa opened the door and pulled in a wheel-chair. "Transport awaits without, Sir."
"Without WHAT, Master Sergeant?" General Howe asked sarcastically.
Lyssa guided him into it. "Without your ASS, Sir."
"There was a time I could've still put you over my knee for saying that." General Howe said.
Lyssa harrumphed as she wheeled him around, making for the door. "Dirty ol' General."
He chuckled quietly at that. Lyssa took him down the hall quietly and out the side door. A glance at her watch showed forty-five minutes remaining. There was a flagpole in front of the building, but away from the main entrance. Four lights angled up to illuminate the flag that flew constantly, as per regulation. It was the only flag on the whole installation that flew constantly. The chair was stopped in front of it. Both saluted the flag, then Lyssa sat on the bench.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I met Dan Shomron?" The General asked.
Lyssa shook her head. "Actually no, you haven't, Sir."
"1976; me, Bob Mountel, Charlie Beckwith and a couple of Point-snots acting as our aides went to Tel Aviv. Now Dan Shomron was a one-star back then, pulling black-ops for Sayeret Matkal. Dan was on planning for Operation Thunderbolt." General Howe said.
Lyssa nodded. "The raid on Entebbe. Didn't the Assault Boss buy it during that?"
General Howe nodded back. "A Colonel. Yeah he did. We all talked about that. Dan laid out what they had wanted to do, what actually happened and what they could have done different. That list was REAL short. It was EDUCATIONAL. Everybody thought Bob and Charlie hated each other. Especially after Delta was commissioned. Not true."
Lyssa knew that story. Colonel Beckwith was setting up Delta and in the meantime, Colonel Bob "Black Gloves" Mountel ran a temporary unit called Blue Light. After Delta went operational, Blue Light disbanded. Or so everyone thought. The unit was brought down to one A-team, transferred to another command and renamed. In the early 1990's it was transferred and renamed again. The DemonWraith platoon. A single A-team that lived in rumors, trained to the edge of insanity and operated at almost supernatural levels.
Another glance at her watch confirmed she had thirty minutes. Lyssa stood up then bent down and hugged the old man.
"I'm sorry Sir. Time is slipping away from us." Lyssa said then pressed her thumb to specific point on his neck.
"Take care young lady." The General hugged her back then felt light-headed. "I guess I'll go have a drink with ol' Sam."
Lyssa fought back the tears. "Put the first round on my tab, Old Man. Tell General Whitacre, he is very much missed. As you will be."
When he exhaled the last time, she almost slipped. His arms dropped away from her and Lyssa finally moved away. Her stomach roiled and it was all Lyssa could do to hold everything down. After a minute she was able to control herself. The tears were at bay as she reached into the right pocket of his jacket and took out the coin. It looked hand-struck with a figure of in robes with a sword on one side, the eagle and flag on the other. Below the figure was the notation of span of years. It was her DemonWraith coin. She replaced it with the key. The watch beeped, twenty-five minutes left. The flag was lowered to half-staff
"Brigadier General Franklin Howe, you are relieved of all responsibilities." Lyssa saluted after adjusting him in the chair then turned and left, fading into the shadows.
At four-thirty a.m. the Gulfstream took off again, heading north.
Dannigan walked into the T.O.C. "Kimberly, bring up all Army notices in the Midwest. Non-classified."
"Colorado, Utah, Missouri, Oklahoma." Kimberly began to list.
Dannigan cut her off. "Iowa."
Kimberly selected. "I have a medical notification out of Camp Dodge National Guard post. The Veteran's Home there sent in a death notice. Brigadier General Franklin Howe, deceased sometime between zero-one and zero-two this morning. Staff on-duty have no explanation as to how the General was able to get outside. He was found at zero-five by oncoming duty-staff in front of the flagpole. They also have no explanation as to how the flag was lowered to half-staff. Is that what you wanted?"
"Update Lyssa's classified file. Action notes: Old Man assignment fulfilled. All formal duties now complete. Any further operational deployment, voluntary with compensation. end update." Dannigan stated.
"File updated." Kimberly said a moment later. "What of Brice?"
Dannigan replied as he went toward the door. "That's being filed in community bulletins, under Local Improvements!"
"Hoo-ahh." Kimberly replied as the door closed behind him.
The Gulfstream landed at Bozeman Yellowstone International Airport that morning. They rented a SUV and headed out of the city. Ten miles before Wilsall there was a road without a sign. It wasn't paved. In fact, it barely looked like a road. Rodrick slowed down but at the last second, he didn't stop. Instead he continued another half-mile then pulled over into what looked like a cut made for a patrol car to hide in for speeders.
"What did you see?" Lyssa asked.
Rodrick frowned. "I thought I saw a reflection. Camera, rifle scope maybe. Brice was always popular with militia types. He is guarded by them."
Lyssa nodded. "Good point."
"I'll edge back and take a look-see. There's something I don't like." Rodrick said firmly.
Lyssa replied. "Go ahead. Watch your ass."
Rodrick got out and dug out his tiger-stripes. Quickly he changed then painted on his camo-pattern. Rodrick put on his assault vest. He left his CAR-15 behind and took a pair of high-power binoculars. Lyssa moved his gear out of the way and began to layout pictures and pages. None were taken by a drone. They were all high resolution satellite imagery. Some were in color, others in black and white. Standard, infra-red, radar imagery were some of the methods the satellites used to see.
For certain there were no high-tech methods of intrusion detection employed. No lasers, no obvious seismic sensors.
"The fucks went stone-age. Slick. Anything else would be obvious." Lyssa said and began looking closer at the color photos.
Three hours later Rodrick returned. "Hey. I got good news and bad news."
"No electronics, all old-school." Lyssa said.
"You got it. There's five look-outs along that road with rifles. Oh and get this, every thirty yards they have gravel pits and sticks." Rodrick informed her.
Lyssa sighed. Low-tech alarms, the gravel would crunch. Sticks meant there was a four inch pit with dry half-inch sticks strategically laid out to break loudly if stepped on or drove through. These were very old, yet still effective, anti-intrusion devices.
"You got to give these guys some credit. They know how to keep the Feds out." Rodrick remarked.
Lyssa frowned. "Some of these guys run around with tin foil in their hats. I wouldn't put it past them to have at least one tv from the seventies in each building. An old tv like that, it'll pick up comm-signals. They wouldn't be able to hear what we say, just know that there's scrambled signals in the area."
Rodrick nodded. "Probably. All their positions along the road have field phones. Lines, no radios. Big bore rifles with high-power scopes, shotguns and revolvers. You don't think these guys are making their own lead slugs and cross-cutting them, do you?"
"Baby they don't trust dentists under the age of sixty. What do you think?" Lyssa asked.
The ex-SEAL groaned. "Aw shit! Tell me you have a plan."
"I have three. We really need the first one to work though. Look at this." Lyssa said then pointed out a trail leading off the west side of the property to what looked like a logging road.
Two hours later The question was answered. They had their way in. It was only visible from the sky using radar imagery. As night fell Lyssa and Rodrick began slowly entering the property, hating every foot of it. The grass was over a foot tall, which would reveal the passage of any creature larger than a rabbit. The trick wasn't to leave the grass undisturbed, unless you had stilts and incredible balance. The trick was to make passage through the grass look like anything, but human.
To do so required a rather childish act. They moved on all fours, imitating quadra-ped animals. Rodrick went first, followed by Lyssa. They didn't move in linear lines. Actually they ran rampant all over, looking like a large animal being chased by a smaller. The trails entered the grass, looked to go around randomly for three minutes entered the main area then went back for two minutes then exit back into the treeline. They used those trails to go back into the main area.
Neither wore a radio of any kind and met up at the main house after evading a pair of roving guards. Rodrick took the time to cut the phone wires going to the outposts. They climbed up the outside of the house and carefully looked into the windows. Lyssa just barely caught the glimmer of light off the fishing line attached to the window. She silent-signaled that to Rodrick. Very slowly, fraction of an inch every three seconds it was raised enough to secure the alarm string. She secured it with tape then cut from the window. That was when she noticed the second string. She repeated the process and checked for a third.
Carefully, Lyssa slithered inside. Robert Brice lay across the bed with an empty bottle of scotch beside him. On the dresser was a full bottle. Johnny Walker, blue label. Lyssa grabbed it, along with the specialty lighter. One end was the lighter and the other a cigar cutter. She passed them both to Rodrick. He put the bottle in his vest and the lighter in his pocket.
Brice grunted then stirred. Lyssa slammed a punch right under his jaw, knocking him out. Now was the time for care. Lyssa got him up and over to the window then eased him out to Rodrick. She went back and took a set of keys then slipped back out the window. Carefully she used the lighter to reattach the fishing line pieces back together and slowly closed the window. Rodrick had already lowered Brice to the ground then climbed down. Lyssa joined him and led the way over to a group of trucks and SUVs. All were from before 1985.
The militant group took their paranoia seriously. The older model vehicles had no onboard computers. In fact, looking inside, there were no electronics at all. Not even AM band radios. The keys fit a 1969 Ford Ranger. Rodrick almost began laughing.
"The ultimate redneck-mobile." Rodrick commented of the yellow truck with brown accents.
Lyssa had to shake her head. It rode all-terrain tires on chrome wagon-wheel rims, had chrome rails on the sides of the bed. Mud splattered the running boards and mud-flaps. "If this has Glass-packs, we're in deep shit."
"You drive. I'm gonna scream yee-haw, hanging out the window." Rodrick snarked.
Brice groaned and Rodrick knocked him out again. Lyssa climbed into the truck. Rodrick shoved Brice in between them and closed the door after getting in. Lyssa turned the key and the truck roared to life.
"Shit. Hang on." Lyssa said then dropped it in gear and floored the pedal, slinging the back-end around.
The old truck roared down the main entrance road. Halfway down it, a flare lit up the night. Lyssa and Rodrick ignored it. The truck was moving too fast for the look-outs to shoot at accurately. It only took three minutes to gain the main road and Lyssa took it in a screech of tires. She slowed down to turn off for the logging road and drove down it with no lights. Brice came around again but went still when Rodrick's dive-knife flashed into view. Even more so when he held it against the man's crotch.
"What do you want?" He slurred.
Lyssa replied. "Unfinished business, Brice. Your tab is due."
"You're going to kill me. For Clair and Robbie." Brice surmised.
Rodrick smiled. "Ding-ding-ding. You're the GRAND WINNER!"
Lyssa stopped beside their SUV and Rodrick got out. While he was distracted, Brice suddenly felt hands on either side of his head then it was wrenched. The cervical vertebrae crackled loudly and he went limp.
"That'll keep you from getting any ideas." Lyssa remarked.
Rodrick led the way back down the road. He was wearing night-vision goggles. Lyssa followed behind. They waited before turning onto the main road.
"Still with me?" Lyssa asked then looked over to see Brice had shifted his eyes.
"Yes." he whispered, between labored breaths.
Lyssa felt like venting some hostility and glared at him. "Robbie's not dead."
Robert Brice stared in shock.
"Alive and well, with new parents that I work with. She calls me Aunt. She's a happy little girl, despite the Hell you wanted her in so you could make it to the White House. In seven more years, she will go to any college she wants to. She plays on the beach every day and takes ballet lessons every morning. When she sees the news in the morning about your death, maybe she'll let go some of her hatred." Lyssa informed him.
Rodrick finally drove out. Lyssa followed him for four miles then pulled over when he stopped. Rodrick came around and opened the door.
"There's a really nice turn right ahead. Its got a cliff and everything." Rodrick announced malevolently.
Lyssa nodded. "I like it. Drag him over to the driver's seat. Careful with his neck. I don't want him to miss out on the view."
Rodrick carefully pulled him across. Lyssa went over to their SUV and came back with the bottle of liquor. She opened it, tossing the cap inside and began to pour it all over him and the seat then dropped the bottle in as well. Rodrick handed the lighter back then got back into their SUV. Brice's foot was positioned at the gas pedal but not with pressure on it. Lyssa stepped onto the running board, dropped the truck into gear and pressed his leg down. The truck began to roll forward.
Rodrick stayed alongside the truck as it picked up speed. Lyssa lit the lighter and tossed it onto the floorboard. The high-proof whiskey ignited.
"She will have a happy life, with you GONE." Lyssa said, grabbing the SUV then yanking the truck's wheel hard over.
Brice found some way to scream as the truck tore away, going through the guardrail and launched over the side. Lyssa held on as Rodrick slowed to a stop. Below, they saw the truck hit bottom and explode. Lyssa got in and they turned around to head back, wiping their faces clean. They took turns changing out of their gear driving down the highway. When they arrived back at the airport they turned in the rental and went back to the plane for a nap. At eight that morning, it was all over the news as the Gulfstream took off and turned southeast.
Chapter 4
Dannigan had waited for Lyssa and Rodrick to get back then called a meeting. Everyone sat or stood in the lounge in the main hangar.
"Some personnel need to return to D.C. with me for a couple of days." Dannigan announced then listed them. "LoneStar, Kimberly and Mindy. Maria; I'd like you, Annette and Kasey as well. Bobby, Sam, Hunter and Kristine may come along if they like, but will have to occupy themselves for a day."
"Uh. Ok." Bobby replied.
Dannigan decided it was better to cut off any arguments before they started. "This is compartmentalized."
Maria was as confused as everyone else, but understood that it had to be important. "Well. I guess we all need to get packed, we should get to it."
Mindy looked very nervous. This would be the first time to leave the island, beyond going to Nassau. Dannigan noticed it.
"Mindy you have nothing to worry about. This trip will do you some good." Dannigan assured her.
Mindy looked to Kimberly and LoneStar, both nodded.
Mindy said. "Ok."
LoneStar said from within the helmet. "One hour. Eddie bring out the Lear."
The group broke up. Carl helped Eddie bring out the Lear then fuel and pre-flight it. An hour later, and many hugs, the Lear took off and turned North. LoneStar allowed Kasey and Kristine a half hour each to fly then Mindy sat on his lap to take the controls for her own half hour. Dannigan sat in the co-pilot seat the rest of the way. They landed at the private field just outside Washington. The plane was parked inside a hangar, beside another Lear. Kimberly informed them it belonged to Shawna.
Off to the side, were a car and a SUV. They exited the plane and started for them.
"Deputies, Kasey and Kristine can ride with me." Madison volunteered.
Kasey turned to Kristine. "We get to ride in the back like a pair of puppies Sis."
"Arf arf." Kristine added.
Hunter looked over. "If they don't like Coach they can always ride Economy."
Hunter then hooked a thumb at the roof-rack. Madison snorted, as did Annette and Samantha.
"No way partner." Bobby remarked, shaking his head. "They'd get a kick out of it."
"Annette. Use the house in Alexandria. It should be big enough for all of us and there are cars there." Maria instructed.
Dannigan said. "LoneStar, Kimberly and Mindy will stay at my place. Maria, where do you want to stay?"
"Kimberly is owed some 'me time' for relaxation. I'll come with you and cook tonight." Maria stated. "Madison, please stop at a nice market. I'd rather my children and grandchildren didn't have drive-thru or such."
"Nonnina, can't we have pizza? There's got to be at least ONE good place in Washington." Kasey protested.
Kristine jumped in as well. "PLEASE?"
Madison laughed. "I know a very good place Maria."
Maria sighed. "Oh very well. Godere la pizza, ma lavorare fuori la mattina."
"We'll work it off Nonnina." Both teens replied to her instruction.
"All settled?" Dannigan asked, receiving nods. "We'll be by at zero nine in the morning to pick up Annette and Kasey. Have a fun evening."
As the group loaded into Madison's SUV Annette reminded. "We still have to stop at a store for breakfast things."
"LoneStar, your legs are much longer than mine." Maria commented. "Ride up front. I shall sit with Kimberly and Mindy."
"Thanks." LoneStar gave a muffled reply.
Inside the car, as they left the hangar Dannigan asked. "Kimberly did you bring the IDs?"
"Yes Sir." Kimberly said then found them in her purse and handed them out. "Lieutenant Colonel Joe Lando. Myself. Mindy, you get this card. Maria this is for you."
Maria looked at the card and read it. "Mrs. Maria Denton? I hope my ceremony was well attended."
"Of course, but we kept it out of the society pages." Dannigan returned her quip.
Soon they began to see signs for Fort Belvoire. Kimberly began to laugh.
"Kimberly. Would care to share the joke with us?" Maria asked.
"Belvoire! Of ALL places!" Kimberly laughed.
Mindy looked up at Maria. "I don't get it."
"Neither do I, I'm afraid." Maria agreed.
Kimberly calmed down and explained. "Fort Belvoire is home to multiple intelligence agencies for D.O.D."
"Where else would a Spook hide?" LoneStar asked rhetorically.
Maria laughed. "You have a very good point."
At the gate Dannigan set a placard on the dash with base-stickers on it. The soldier waved them through then saluted when he saw Dannigan.
"Paul. Would I be correct, to assume that this base has some type of market?" Maria asked.
Dannigan nodded. "I'll pull in at the commissary. The three of you can go in."
Ten minutes later they were driving again and pulled into the driveway of an old house. Dannigan and LoneStar carried the luggage while Maria and Kimberly carried the bags of groceries. Dinner was quiet that night in the dining room lit by only one candle. Maria did her best to keep curiosity at bay of trying to see what LoneStar looked like without his helmet. After dinner they all retired for the night. Dannigan had handed LoneStar and Kimberly a couple of wardrobe bags.
The next morning Maria's eyes widened in shock after breakfast. First she saw Dannigan putting on a Class-A uniform. Downstairs, she saw Kimberly and LoneStar wearing them as well. Though LoneStar wore his helmet, he was still in a uniform other than the habitual flight suit. None of them were wearing their jackets. Mindy wore a nice dress and t-strap shoes with pantyhose, looking very much like she wearing going to church or some important social function.
Maria quickly called Annette, who answered on the first ring. "Annette? Pay attention. Whatever you and Kasey are wearing right now, CHANGE. I want BOTH of you in dresses and high heels."
"What's going on?" Annette asked.
"I have no idea. They are all putting on dress uniforms here." Maria replied.
Annette deferred to her Mother. "Alright Mama. We'll get changed into something nice. I have an old dress here that should fit Kasey. She already has her own shoes. I'll wear a suit, is that alright?"
"Yes. That will be fine. We're leaving now and should see you in an hour at most." Maria said then disconnected.
Soon they were loading themselves into large SUV. There would be room for Annette and Kasey in it. This time, LoneStar sat in the back with Kimberly and Mindy. Just over forty-five minutes later they pulled in at large house in Alexandria. Maria got out and brought back Annette and Kasey. The two joined them in the SUV and Dannigan drove on.
"Nonnina. Where are we going?" Kasey asked after seeing them leaving the Washington metroplex area.
Maria sighed. "I honestly don't know."
Paul glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. "We have a meeting."
Maria looked over. "A meeting? With whom?"
"I was ordered to Report, with all of you." Dannigan replied.
That caused almost all of them to glance around at each other in confusion. Who could order him around that wasn't in Washington? The question remained unasked, but the confusion tripled when they drove up to the main gate of Fort A.P. Hill. The soldier at the gate waved them through seeing the placard propped on the dash, but didn't salute, as he didn't see any rank. It took another fifteen minutes, due to the speed limits and Dannigan finally parked in front of a large plantation-style house.
Once they were all out Dannigan, with his jacket over his arm, turned to them. "This isn't a private residence. Follow me please. No jacket yet."
Kimberly and LoneStar, carrying their own jackets, nodded. Kimberly held Mindy's hand as they followed Dannigan inside. As they passed, any staff members saluted the big Spook. He led them up the stairs and down a hall. At the far end of the hall he stopped at a door with a name plate below two stars, Major General Patrick Bentley.
"Wait here a moment." Dannigan said then knocked quietly and entered. He came back out, followed by a woman in scrubs. "Thank you Sergeant Burke."
"My pleasure Sir." She saluted and left.
"Ok. We can go in." Dannigan said then turned around to face the door, slipped on the jacket and hat then led them in.
Sitting in a chair by the window was a very old man in Class-A uniform.
Dannigan marched to stand in front of him, stood at attention and saluted. "Sir. Reporting, as ordered."
"As you were." The old General returned the salute slowly.
Dannigan turned around and they noticed that the old General's uniform actually held four-stars on the shoulders and shirt collar. That's when they noticed the two-stars on Dannigan's.
"I present General Andrew Polson, retired. My father." Dannigan announced.
General Polson pointed at LoneStar with a glare. "Remove that headgear, Lieutenant Colonel."
It took a moment of hesitation then slowly lifted the helmet off. The entire right side of his face, horribly scarred by burns, now for all to see. Annette squeezed Kasey's hand to keep her quiet while fighting to school her own expression. One side hideously disfigured, the other untouched and handsome beyond belief. His blue eyes were chips of glacier ice.
"I've never been afraid to see you boy. There is no reason for my son to hide from me now." General Polson said in a clear voice.
All the women in the room, except Kimberly had to force their mouths closed at the revelation.
Joe Lando nodded. "Yes Sir."
"Sir." Dannigan said, then began the introductions. "This is Maria DeMarco. Our daughter Annette. Her daughter Kasey."
Annette flinched, but hid it well. Kasey barely managed to keep from shouting in surprise.
Joe announced. "Sir. This is my wife Lieutenant Kimberly Moore Lando and our daughter Melinda Valerie Lando."
"Incorrect." General Polson remarked and drew gasps.
Kimberly glanced nervously. "Sir?"
"Her rank is incorrect." General Polson stated. "He meant to say CAPTAIN Kimberly Moore Lando."
To everyone's surprise he reached down beside himself, brought out a file and opened it. "On this date the following is to be executed. Promotion to full Colonel: Joseph Lando, U.S. Army retired. Promotion to Captain: Kimberly Moore Lando, U.S. Army retired. Promotion to Lieutenant Commander: Krystel Evanson. Recognition of rank for Rodrick N. Mason, Captain, U.S. Navy retired. Promotion to Major: Peter Daniel Arnett, U.S.Marine Corps, retired. That covers the officers. Non-Commission promotions are as follows. Lyssa Kordenay Mason, Sergeant Major. Tiffany Davareaux, Sergeant First Class. Shawna Davies, Senior Master Sergeant. Robert Everbrite, Sergeant First Class. Hunter Taugh, Sergeant First Class. That concludes all promotions. Captain. You're out of uniform."
The general waved his sons over and both helped him to stand. With what seemed like extreme effort on his part the single bars were removed and the double-bars of Captain were pinned on.
"Congratulations, Captain." General Polson said and saluted.
He then proceeded to changed the rank on LoneStar's jacket and saluted him. "Congratulations, Colonel."
Kimberly saluted. "Thank General. Permission to speak freely Sir?"
"Carry on." General Polson said.
Kimberly leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you Dad. Nothing could have made that more special."
"You're a good woman and a fine officer, young lady." General Polson said as he was guided back into the chair then looked over to Maria. "So you're that Mafia princess that stole my boy's heart all those years ago. He caused a hell of a ruckus for a while, keeping track of you. Even more so after that little girl came along. He strutted into my office, proud as a rooster to show me the pictures."
Maria glared at Dannigan. "Well I was more than a bit upset when nobody would ever tell me about Preston Donnelly."
Polson laughed. "Preston? Daniel, you could have come up with a better name than THAT!"
"DANIEL?" All four of the DeMarco women exclaimed.
Dannigan winced. "I could have survived without that."
Polson chuckled. "Let's have a look at these grandchildren of mine."
Annette nudged Kasey to approach and followed, as Kimberly did to Mindy. Polson looked at them intently then smiled kindly.
"A finer set of girls, I haven't seen. Since I don't see any uniforms, I take it you two took to dancing?" Polson asked then winked to Annette. "When you aren't removing undesirables?"
Annette actually blushed. "Yes Sir, Grandpa."
"I work with computers, Sir." Kasey said nervously.
Polson nodded. "Well I'm glad you've changed sides. It's been a real chore for your Daddy, to keep some of the main investigations off you Annette. I hear computers have become the new battleground. I'm sure you'll fight a good fight Kasey."
Mindy fidgeted nervously then came closer when the old man beckoned her.
"I was so sorry to hear what happened. You've become a pretty little girl. I have no doubt you'll become a beautiful young lady and do something wonderful with your new life." Polson said gently.
Mindy hugged him. "Thank you Grandpa."
They talked for almost an hour then Polson gestured to Annette, Kasey and Mindy.
"Children. I need to speak to your parents now. You all be good. I'd like to see you again, at a later time." Polson said sounding tired.
Each gave him a kiss and said goodbye then went outside. Only Dannigan, Maria, LoneStar and Kimberly stayed behind.
"The prognosis is final. I have one year left, if I'm lucky. Arrangements have been made for certain things. If you all have things that need doing; get them done. If I need to go somewhere for something off base, the chairman has to be notified a month before." Polson said, now talking slower and looking very tired.
Dannigan replied. "Yes Sir."
"Those are fine girls. Raise them well. Maria make sure Kristine knows to keep her nose clean. All that can be done, has been. I'd like to see them dance sometime. Even if I have to watch a recording." Polson requested.
Maria smiled. "Something will be arranged for you Sir."
"Kimberly. I don't think I need to tell you what needs doing; in regards to my son, granddaughter or your own duties?" Polson remarked.
"No General. I have things in hand Sir." Kimberly replied.
Polson nodded. "Good. I'd like a few moments with my boys. Thank you for coming to see me."
Both bent down and kissed his cheek then Kimberly saluted him and joined Maria to go out into the hall. Several minutes later, Dannigan and LoneStar came out. Once again, LoneStar's face was concealed within the helmet. They all took off their jackets and met up with the girls down the hall in a sitting area. The next day, the Lear took off to return them to the island without Dannigan and Madison.
Book 44 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
A secret prisoner in a forgotten place brings back the need for Lyssa's training. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
Dannigan was reading the reports from the various Agencies. The C.I.A. were trying ferret out a terror cell operating in France. N.S.A. were actively pursuing a group of North Koreans in California. Homeland was trying not to let on they had a mole. The F.B.I. were making progress on a Mafia group in New York. A.T.F. was still picking up pieces from a fiasco near Boston. I.C.E. were working Charleston, North Carolina on a possible new human trafficking ring. State Department had grudgingly upgraded security status for the embassies along Northern Africa.
The N.R.O. had secretly launched four new satellites. That was good news. More came from CyberForce, a CRACKING group had been shut down. A collective of Finnish and Russian freelancers that had set their sights on D.O.E. had fallen for a fake. D.E.A. had slammed the door on a smuggling ring that ran boats across the Gulf of Mexico. All this was good. It all boiled down to things being relatively quiet. Even the U.S. Marshals were settling down. Things were looking good for a three day weekend down in the Caribbean.
All those thoughts came to a screeching halt as he looked at the last page. Army CounterIntelligence. They believed that a prisoner held in a domestic black site has been holding back information that is now deemed critical. A Jordanian terrorist that had tried to come in via a Mexican Coyote group had been been caught coming across the Arizona border over a year ago. The big problem with him, was the fact that he had studied Nuclear Technology. At Michigan State University.
Dannigan looked up the file. Adib Ali Fahmoud. Jordanian national, student visa- Michigan State. Held a 3.6 grade point average. Went back to Jordan after graduation. Rumored to have consulted both Pakistan and Iran on Nuclear facilities. Particularly Breeders. The more Dannigan read, the more he became concerned. Breeders were reactors that produced Weapons' Grade Materials. Though in reality, just about any Fissionable Material could be modified to Weapons' Grade. People educated like Fahmoud were usually kept tabs on. Their knowledge could be used, willingly or coerced, dangerously. It seemed that CounterIntel was in a quandary as to who to bring in to interrogate him now. The clearance level was unusually high. In fact it was in two parts. One level was for him and another was for his location. Actually Dannigan couldn't remember the last time he'd seen one of those levels.
"Definitely out of the ordinary." Dannigan commented to himself then ran the reports through the shredder and buzzed Madison. "Madison."
Madison replied immediately. "Yes Major?"
"Contact Kimberly. See if someone can come pick us up Friday morning for a weekend down there." Dannigan instructed.
"Right away!" Madison replied happily.
"Ram Air Charters." Kimberly announced after picking up the phone.
Madison greeted her. "Hey Kim."
Kimberly smiled. "Hi Madison. What's new?"
"The Major wants to know if someone can fly up to pick us up Friday morning for a three day weekend down there." Madison informed her.
Kimberly checked the log and replied. "Sure. Rodrick has a Freeport to LaGuardia hop Thursday afternoon. He can stop there on the return that evening. Will that work?"
A moment later Madison came back on the line. "That works for us!"
"Ok. See you both Thursday night. I know the kids will be excited." Kimberly laughed and disconnected.
Hunter wandered into the office. "Who's going to be excited?"
"The kids. Pete too. The Major and Madison are coming Thursday night on the return of Rodrick's hop." Kimberly said.
The Black Badge Deputy nodded. "Oh. Yeah, they'll like that. Here's mine and Bobby's ammo report."
Kimberly took the page and frowned. "This is all you used today?"
"Yeah. Problem?" Hunter asked.
"Yes. It's not enough." Kimberly stated. "Look, when you were in service, two hundred and fifty rounds for a .45 may have been excessive for an M.P. and standard for a Ranger. The same amount for a Deputy may have been standard. That was then Hunter. You should be going through a minimum of three hundred rounds twice a week. That's just for sidearms. A hundred and twenty-five for long range rifle, half of which should be cold-shots and at least five hundred close-quarter. Is something off with you two?"
Hunter frowned. "That's a lot of ordinance to be going through."
Kimberly shrugged. "Not really. When Tiffany, Shawna and Krystel were being trained they were on a range every day Hunter. If they don't shoot at least twice per week, something's up. Any shot could be the one that means everything. You know that just as well as we do."
Hunter drank from the water bottle. "Yeah. That's true."
"You jump once every two weeks. That's good. You even learned to dive so you can perform marine incursions. You four have a lot more going for you than when you first came here. Even Parkour. Bump up your ammo counts. Your accuracy is within parameters, just up your quantity. You can do that. You all did good in the demolitions classes." Kimberly remarked.
Hunter went for the cheap-shot. "Yeah. We had a blast."
"Oh, you just HAD to get that one in." Kimberly rolled her eyes. "Get outta here Hunter. Carl and Eddie are going into Freeport this evening. Go with."
Hunter casually saluted. "Yes Ma'am."
Hunter winked at Maria on the way out.
"Go on you rascal." Maria commented then went into the office. "Kimberly, Anna gave me the grocery list for the house."
Kimberly smiled and nodded. "Thank you. If you would, just slip it into the clipboard. Would she like to go tomorrow?"
"A trip anywhere besides the therapist is quite agreeable to her." Maria chuckled.
"I heard that." Kimberly laughed. "I have some good news."
Maria gave a non-plussed look. "Good news is always welcome dear."
Kimberly smiled. "The Major and Madison are inbound for Thursday night."
"Good news indeed. I believe I'll go along tomorrow as well." Maria commented.
Kimberly smirked. "A stop at the salon perhaps?"
"Of course. Might as well book us all. We can make it a Girls' day out." Maria suggested. "First the salon, then lunch followed by the shopping."
Kimberly took up the walkie-talkie. "Attention all personnel. Tomorrow will be a Girls' Day in Freeport. All going, respond now before I start booking appointments."
All the females on the island replied in succession.
"Book us all Kim." Lyssa finally said then added. "Also call The Reef and tell them to have the table ready for us."
Kim asked. "Bringing the twins?"
"Yeah. Let's give the guys a break. They can spend the day fishing or whatever." Lyssa replied.
Eddie was quick to call out. "Carl and Hunter need to be at the Bell in forty-five mikes or I'm leaving them both!"
Both replied quickly that they were about to take showers. Hunter was enjoying having his own place, given the trailer previously occupied by Shawna. The complaint against Carl's snoring went without sympathy from Rodrick, Pete and Eddie. Rodrick offered to trade, night baby duty. Hunter declined before Rodrick even finished.
Madison was excited all day Thursday and at four that afternoon her smile seemed like a permanent fixture. Dannigan was coming out of his office.
"You about ready? Mason should be on the tarmac and finished refueling by the time we get there." Dannigan informed her.
Madison's reply was interrupted by the chime of the elevator. A man in an Army Class-A uniform with Colonel's rank approached them.
"Why do I get the feeling the weekend just went to shit?" Madison muttered.
Dannigan calmly asked. "Something on your mind Colonel?"
"I need one of your assets." Colonel Varnelle answered.
Dannigan kept his tone flat. "Denied."
"Not an option. I'll have to insist." Varnelle countered.
Dannigan didn't even move. "Still denied. You won't like it if I insist. Forget where you are?"
Varnelle shook his head. "I know EXACTLY where I am and EXACTLY who you are. Immediate compliance. SIR."
Dannigan had a page held in front of him. He took it and read. "Colonel. You are either the dumbest or most suicidal fuck I've ever met."
Colonel Varnelle didn't respond.
Dannigan turned the page around. "Number One: Just for knowing this you can be shot. Number Two: yes, this is the most dangerous room in D.C. and now you're demanding to be taken to a place there is no guaranty you will be allowed to return from."
"I don't have a choice. Only two people have the training and clearances for this. One is in the middle of an operation and the other belongs to you. I have my orders and now so do you." Varnelle replied.
Dannigan shifted the bag in his hand. "If your Will is order, follow us. Otherwise, you better write something real quick."
Madison led the way to the elevator and griped. "Now I KNOW the weekend just went to shit!"
Chapter 2
The Gulfstream came in low and gently touched down. After turning around at the end of the runway, it taxied back to the hangars. Eddie signaled to stop. Carl came rolling out with the tractor and hooked up to the Nose gear. Rodrick led the way down. Once Dannigan and Madison walked down on to the tarmac they were greeted by three squeals.
Maria followed behind the three girls with a smile and awaited her turn to greet Dannigan and Madison. After greeting the girls, Madison went in search of Pete.
Everything came to a stop when Mindy's voice clearly asked. "Who's he?"
All heads turned to the fourth person to disembark, the only one in a uniform.
"An unwelcome visitor Pipsqueak." Rodrick growled.
Colonel Varnelle stated. "Colonel Varnelle, young lady. Army CounterIntel."
"OH." Kasey, Kristine and Mindy said in unison.
Varnelle finally cracked. "I've never had that reaction before. You girls are familiar with CounterIntel?"
Kasey was first and stepped immediately to Attention. "SIR. CounterIntel conducts operations to combat Hostile entities, foreign and domestic, from gathering Intelligence of United States Agencies, Assets and populace."
"C.I. has Federal status, they can arrest and investigate both military and civilians." Mindy added standing at Attention like her adoptive cousins.
Kristine said. "Crimes such as treason, spying, espionage, sedition, subversion and sabotage by Domestic or Foreign Hostiles fall under the jurisdiction of Army CounterIntelligence. Another aspect is that other U.S. Military personnel are given Temporary Duty to CounterIntel to allow them to act more effectively. Personnel such as Special Forces, Military Intelligence, CyberForce and Medical Services. Also certain D.A.R.P.A. personnel due to expertise, SIR!"
"That IS impressive. There are Three-Star Generals that know less that you three." Varnelle commented in approval. "For the record, I actually am CounterIntel, not attached or TDY."
Kristine stared. "That doesn't explain why you're here."
Varnelle replied with one word. "Classified."
Kristine now glared at someone she deemed a pompous ass. "That still doesn't explain why you're here dip shit. Oh and I'm a CIVILIAN minor, so piss off."
"Kris, give the wannabe a break, sis. It's not his fault that God didn't give him the brains of a piss ant. Besides, the last time I checked, our BADGES say U.S. Deputy Marshal on them. That means numb-nuts here isn't our problem. We just have to clean up his blood, guts and dump his body when Dad and Uncle Hunter tear him apart." Kasey told her younger while never taking her eyes off, Varnelle.
"Children, behave yourselves." Maria scolded her granddaughters kindly. "We do not just kill uninvited guests outright. That is not the DeMarco family way. Show your manners. Besides, I doubt that the Major would make the mistake of bringing a man foolish enough to get himself killed to us without reason. Remember your lessons on the Bravta."
Krystel came out and handed Dannigan three pages and saluted. "Sir."
"Thank you Lieutenant Commander." Dannigan replied then glanced them over. "Girls. Back down with the attitude. Colonel Varnelle earned his spurs a long time ago. He's here to see Lyssa."
"She's at her house." Kimberly informed them.
Rodrick waved to the officer. "This way Colonel."
"I'll be along shortly." Dannigan told Rodrick, who simply nodded back as they left.
Kasey mumbled. "Asshole."
"Kasey. You may not like him, but he has a job to do and only one way to do it. He's here under orders that come straight from the Chairman of the Army. Not even he likes this, but he doesn't have a choice." The big Spook stated. "That being said. Yes, he actually was impressed with you three and was pleased with your knowledge. That is, until you both flew off the handle. Off the record; before he joined C.I., he spent time in both Fifth Group and First. He spent a hitch in Delta, which means he's on-par with Rodrick, Bobby and Hunter. He's no wannabe. He's real-deal."
Maria asked. "He is line for a promotion if he resolves whatever matter has brought him to us?"
"No Ma'am." Krystel informed the DeMarco matriarch. "The rank he is, is permanent. He goes no higher. And as the Major said, he doesn't have a choice."
Dannigan sighed. "As tough as my job is, I wouldn't want his."
Maria wanted this spell to end. "Well. All that can wait. We've held dinner up long enough. Come along."
Colonel Varnelle expected more open hostility at the house Rodrick led him to. Instead he found a charming woman in the process of holding bottles for twin babies that looked around a year or so old. A black shepherd had looked him over with a soft growl, but lay where he was.
"See? There's Daddy!" Lyssa pronounced to the twins.
Rodrick walked over and kissed them both on the head. "That's my little rugrats."
Alex laughed and Allie cooed to him. Rodrick then kissed Lyssa
"Your dinner is on the stove. Feed our visitor. I'm going to be a while." Lyssa commented giving the babies their bottles again.
Rodrick showed Varnelle to a guest room. They met back in the kitchen, Varnelle in civilian attire and Rodrick in a Team t-shirt and shorts.
Conversation between the two was light, mostly about current events. Not long after, they all retired for the night.
Despite the teens grumblings about being left out, all the adults met up in the Command Center that morning. Carl was taking the first class for the teens while Eddie watched over the twins in the Hangar Lounge.
Varnelle looked around the state-of-the-art room. "VERY impressive!"
"Thank you Colonel." Kimberly replied.
He handed her a flashdrive. "Captain, was it?"
"Yes Sir. Be ready in a moment. Krystel." Kimberly said then handed the drive off.
Krystel took the drive and plugged it in.
All eyes turned to Kimberly as she stood in front of the bank of screens. "Colonel Varnelle has a specific tasking. He is the lead in all operations that pertain to terrorist threats with Nuclear capability. The long and short of it is, if they have academic or working knowledge of turning any kind of fissionable material or equipment into weaponry, he's the go-to man. Colonel, you have our attention."
Varnelle took position on the opposite side. "Thank you Captain. First photo please."
An image of four frames came up on the main monitor.
"Subject: Adib Ali Fahmoud. Jordanian national. AKA: Bringer of Judgement. Studied Nuclear Physics at Michigan State. Two months after graduation, dropped off the grid. A year later, resurfaced in Jordan then disappeared again. Resurfaced ten years later in Russian for three months and dropped off again. He slipped through FSB's net. He resurfaced three years later in France, working at a Breeder."
Maria spoke up. "Please excuse my interruption Colonel. What is a 'Breeder'?"
"A Breeder is a nuclear facility that produces Weapons' Grade fissionable materials." Varnelle answered.
"Its not a power plant." Kimberly added.
Maria nodded. "I see. Please continue Colonel."
Varnelle nodded. "I'll speed things up some. Fahmoud then began to continually slip in and out of view. All in countries close to becoming nuclear capable, both military and civilian. He wasn't picky. If they had a program of some kind, he was there. After that first trip into Russia, he never entered another facility, but sightings place him in the vicinity of other facilities there. That was for eight years. Finally he broke cover and was reacquired in Pakistan. That's when it was deemed prudent to bring him in. However, the surveillance team was made and he disappeared again. He resurfaced in Iran then went back under."
"He's like that gopher on Caddyshack." Hunter commented.
Everyone chuckled and even Varnelle cracked a smile. "That's a fair comparison, Sergeant. I kind of like that."
The smile got even wider. "He's never been told what we call him, be kind of fun to have him told that's his 'code-name' by us."
Kimberly had been reading on a another screen. "That would make him go berserk. He's one of those 'I am a genius and everyone else is beneath me' types."
"Someone commented that he was a 'Cartman with a nuclear degree'." Varnelle remarked.
Krystel laughed. "Funny. Disturbing, but funny."
"Are you asking that this man be apprehended?" Samantha asked.
Varnelle shook his head. "No. He is already in custody. Document three, photo five please."
The images came up and he continued narrative. "Last year, Fahmoud was captured by U.S. Border patrol agents crossing from Mexico into Arizona. there were also some narco-traffickers in with the same Coyote group. It seemed that Fahmoud had become fluent in Spanish. With his looks, he was able to pass himself off as Latin-American. He has been repeatedly interrogated and did produce a fair amount of working intelligence. Recently though, its been determined he still has more, that may be critical."
"His knowledge is the kind that can produce not only high level munitions but also improvised nuclear ordinance?" Bobby asked.
Varnelle nodded grimly. "Correct. Currently there are only thirty specialists that have the clearance to work Fahmoud. Of those thirty, only five have the clearance to visit the facility he is held in."
Annette spoke up. "Ok. So he's a really high level detainee and a hard-case. I get that part, but why come here?"
"I regret to say, he's exhausted three of those five. They can get nothing more from him. He's shut down. There are only two specialists that can get through his defenses now. One is currently on mission and one is here. Only those two can break through. Both are from the same unit. One is still active-duty and currently deployed, no recall. The other is here. Whisper is not available, I need The Immortal." Varnelle stated looking directly at Lyssa.
Rodrick asked the remaining question. "Where is he held?"
"Scorchville, The Dead Zone." Varnelle replied.
Bobby shrugged. "Ok. So let's go."
"It's not that straight-forward Everbrite." Dannigan said.
Maria looked over. "I take it there are all those clearances that must be issued?"
Lyssa stood up and walked to the screens. "Krystel. Bring up Nevada. Nevada National Security Site, Area 17."
"Area 17? Is that like Area 51?" Samantha asked Bobby.
Bobby shrugged. "Don't know. Never heard of it before."
Two maps came up on the monitor and Lyssa explained them. "National Security Site, Nevada. Formerly called Nevada Proving Grounds. The region is under the Department of Energy umbrella and used by various Agencies. This place has been only for Nuclear testing. It's cordoned off into thirty test areas. Some have no contamination, some have light and others are heavily contaminated. Area 17 was originally designated as a Clean Zone. No contamination, used as a staging area."
Krystel brought up pictures on the screen. "On the left is Area 5; Frenchman's Flat. On the right is the Sedan Crater in Area 10."
"Jesus! That's a BIG fucking hole." Pete remarked.
"Made on July 6, 1962. It still emits a low-level hum." Krystel said then smiled at the shocked faces. "Just kidding. Civilian tours visit it every year."
Everyone groaned at her joke then turned back to Lyssa who had been smiling.
"In truth on moonless nights you can see a slight shimmer inside the deepest part of the crater. Back in 1975 there was a surge of nuclear compromises. Over fifty were captured. The problem was, where to keep them now that they knew too much. A decision was made by D.O.E., the C.I.A., N.S.A. and D.O.D. A highly classified prison was to be built. It became the first real Terminal Facility. Two hundred and seventy-one prisoners from death-row were selected and turned over to the project manager. The prison sits three hundred feet below ground. It was designed by specialists from every agency and branch of the service. Escape Specialists." Lyssa stated.
Krystel spoke up. "From there, the information gets real sketchy. There's lots of holes and redacted files. I'm sure most of it is hard-copy/Eyes Only files. No prisoners are listed as ever being incarcerated there. Actually the official version is that it was abandoned due to seismic instability."
"That's the official line. The reality is, it was completed. Along with a small group of houses and cabins, dubbed Scorchville. In 1977, despite all reports to the contrary, over one hundred nuclear detonations took place there. The ordinance came from American, Russian, French and British ordinance plans and 'acquired' materials. It is the most heavily radioactive site. No transmissions in or out, no vehicles will function. There's only one way anything gets in or out of there, on foot. Without highly specialized gear, you die within fifteen to twenty MINUTES. It takes a little over an hour and half to walk there. Scorchville sits in the center of a twenty square mile area called Dead Zone." Lyssa said firmly.
Maria looked very unsettled. "My God, it's a Hell on Earth."
"There are those that think so. It's definitely in the top 5 nominees." Lyssa said.
"You mean there are other places that are just as bad or possibly WORSE than this place?" Annette asked.
Lyssa, Dannigan and Colonel Varnelle nodded grimly.
"I'm actually kind of curious about the place now." Samantha remarked. "So this is one of those places that doesn't exist, manned by people with no names and all that, right?"
Varnelle nodded. "That about sums it up. Housing prisoners that will never seen sunlight again."
"I assume they have no contact at all with the outside world?" Maria asked.
Varnelle confirmed her assumption. "No trials, no lawyers. Only interrogators and guards. No guard there serves more than one week per year."
"Colonel. There is one other person that could interrogate your prisoner as effectively as Whisper could. Maybe even more so." Lyssa admitted with a hint of disgust, or anger.
Varnelle sighed. "I know who you're going to say. The Possessor. He is no longer viable."
That got Dannigan's attention. "Why not?"
"I already asked for him. He is; OUT of circulation." Varnelle said. "Permanently. He's been secured in The Vault. No further details."
Lyssa nodded. "Not surprised."
"This Whisper person is not able to be brought in, but Lyssa can be?" Maria asked. "I was under the impression that she is, for lack of a better word, retired."
Dannigan nodded. "She is. For the most part. Unfortunately, she is still able to utilize her skills. Until that ends, she can be brought in when there are no other options."
"What are the protocols for transport?" LoneStar asked, his helmet plugged into the system.
Varnelle looked over to him. "From here to Las Vegas by whatever means usual to your group. At McCarran, the Janet Terminal is used to transport to Homey Airport, Groom Lake then to Area 18. From there a helo will transport to the border of Area 17. She knows the way from there. Seventy-two hours will be alotted for the operation then return to the Landing Zone for return to Area 18 for DeCon. Homey Airport for Debrief then return to McCarran via Janet and then release."
LoneStar looked over to Dannigan. "I have the clearance to get to Homey. Can the strip at Area 18 handle the Gulfstream?"
"Krystel?" Dannigan asked.
Krystel frowned. "Maybe. Land, yes. Take-off, maybe. It's a bit short. By a hundred feet."
LoneStar turned back to Dannigan. "Myself and no more than three other people. Everybody takes a piss before take-off though."
Dannigan looked thoughtful and tapped his chin then turned around. "Justice can go."
"Oh HELL no. You're not going alone Sam!" Annette exclaimed.
Samantha shrugged. "OK. You can come to."
"Uh." Annette caught herself. "Me? There?"
Varnelle shook his head. "I can't get them authorized."
"I can." Dannigan smiled menacingly. "I may not be able to override your orders, but I can AND WILL amend them. Justice and DeMarco go. Lyssa, get them ready."
"What do you need." Rodrick asked.
Lyssa replied. "Personal gear only. Sidearms and edged. Kim, get them a set of Tiffany and Krystel's old battlesuits. They can wear their current issue boots and gloves. Ladies, wear comfortable traveling clothes. Nothing else. We won't need it. What we wear in Dead Zone will be burned when we come out is why. Issue them a pair of old sidearms and standard rounds. Five magazines each."
"Only five for each gun?" Annette asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Annette, if we get into a firefight out there, we got bigger problems than running out of bullets."
"That ain't no lie." Rodrick commented.
Varnelle nodded. "Any compromise to the integrity of your protective suit, will be fatal."
"There is that." Annette lamented.
"So do we have to worry about snakes and stuff?" Samantha asked.
Lyssa shook her head. "There is no wildlife. Not even cockroaches. Do as I say, and you'll be fine."
Maria asked what was at the forefront of her mind. "Lyssa. How many times have you been to this place? I'm assuming more than once."
"Yes Maria. This will make my sixth trip into Dead Zone. I know what I'm doing." Lyssa answered.
"Maria. When Lyssa says 'sixth', she means that it is the sixth. There is a difference. Her previous exercises there lasted ten to eighteen days each." Dannigan informed her. "In her previous unit, they trained there to prepare for operations deep within contaminated territory. No other trains to this level. Not even N.E.S.T. trains for this kind of environment."
The mention of N.E.S.T. spoke volumes. N.E.S.T., Nuclear Emergency Support Team, formerly known as the Nuclear Emergency Search Team. A team of scientists, technicians and engineers operating under the United States Department of Energy's National Nuclear Security Administration, NNSA. Any Nuclear incident in CONUS is their tasking, accidental or intentional, they are the First Responders.
"N.E.S.T. trains in Area 1. Its so low level you can wear a poly-suit and fix a rip with duct tape." Lyssa explained. "I'm trained to go into the blast zone, minutes after detonation. If Annette and Samantha will follow my instructions, TO THE LETTER, their exposure will be minimum."
"How minimum?" Annette asked.
Lyssa looked over to her. "After DeCon we'll be given some pills to take. Three pills per day for four days and we won't even register any readings."
"The fact that you're here, is proof enough. Very well. They may go." Maria agreed. "You both will follow her orders to the letter. Lyssa's survival in such a place is testament to us."
Hunter asked. "Lyssa. You said this place is in the top five. You don't seem that fazed by it. Which one does?"
"There's a place in Utah. In my opinion, it's worse. It's where bio and chem agents were tested. I've been there four times." Lyssa answered.
Rodrick stood up. "I get Eddie on prepping the Gulfstream. Wheels up in an hour?"
"Sounds right." Lyssa answered. "Madison, would you watch the twins until we're done here?"
Madison nodded. "Sure thing."
Kimberly went up to gather the uniforms and equipment. Lyssa began a very short briefing on protocols for such an environment. Maria found herself squirming uncomfortably as Lyssa went over the list of procedures. Bobby and Hunter ended up asking many of the questions she had been reluctant to. Both had basic NBC, Nuclear/Biological/Chemical, warfare training as most do during Basic Training. They had more advanced classes as Rangers and Special Forces. The two Marshals had ended up taking notes and would frequently refer to those notes when questioning. Even Varnelle asked a few questions.
Finally Dannigan asked. "Colonel, what's the best case scenario?"
"At best; new names, locations and their protocols are revealed." Colonel Varnelle answered.
"Worst case?" Kimberly asked.
Varnelle frowned. "Targets, materials and strategies."
"Fuck. That doesn't sound good." Pete commented.
Varnelle sighed. "Please keep in mind, we've held him for a year already. I have no doubt that the groups he has worked with have already written him off and are now falling back on alternate planning. He may have had a hand in that and we need to know. We've been on borrowed time for a while now. This is desperation, we need all he has left."
"He will not survive after this. You do understand that?" Lyssa reminded.
Varnelle nodded. "One shot is all we have left. That's why I came to you. When others failed, you never have."
"So be it then." Lyssa said. "The briefing is done. Annette and Sam, get changed into lighter weight and comfortable clothing. Meet in front of the Hangar in fifteen minutes."
Krystel looked up. "I'll have the orders ready in five."
Fifteen minutes later the group was boaring the Gulfstream. The teens of course, while pouting about having to stay on the island, handed off 'wishlists'. It was a frequent occurrence. Anytime someone went to CONUS for longer than a HOP. The girls gave a list of items wanted. Usually snacks or other items not available outside the U.S.
In no time at all the sleek business-jet was taking off and winging its way Northwest. The initial entry point back into CONUS was Eglin AFB in Florida. They refueled there and flew to Houston, Texas then on to Lackland AFB, outside San Antonio. From there it was over to Nellis AFB outside Las Vegas, Nevada.
Chapter 3
At Nellis AFB, Lonestar had news. They would not able able to fly straight to AREA 18. Their flightplan had to be filed for stopping there at Nellis. A Black-Plan was being filed to get them to the Groom Lake Test Facility. There they would have to land and transfer to another aircraft for the remaining flightplan. After refueling, they took off again.
LoneStar had switched over to the specific channel after clearing the outer markers for Nellis. When a tone came over he knew he was approaching Restricted Airspace.
"Homey Tower. Homey Tower. Do you copy?" LoneStar called out over the radio.
The response was immediate. "This is Homey Tower. You are approaching Restricted Airspace. Identify."
"This is Whiskey 8-1-3. Requesting approach vector for Homey." LoneStar replied.
The Tower called back. "Roger Whiskey flight. We need your code for clearance."
"Copy Homey Tower. My code is Bravo-Charlie-Tango-Sierra-two-zero-one-fife." LoneStar gave his recognition code.
"Standby Whiskey Flight." The tower responded and went silent. A few moments later they came back. "Whiskey flight, you are authorized entry to Restricted Airspace. Proceed heading two-zero-zero at Angels ten. Escort inbound, follow instructions implicitly. Shadow-flight, inbound."
LoneStar confirmed. "Heading two-zero-zero at Angels ten. Escort Shadow-flight, inbound."
Within minutes three combat loaded F-16s came up. Two took flanking positions and one took lead in front of the business-jet. They stayed with them until just before touching down on the runway. The fighter escort veered away. A Humvee was waiting and led the plane back to the main area. A groundman waved them over and directed them into a parking position with hand-signals.
Lonestar led the way out onto the tarmac and was saluted by a man in desert camo with no name, rank or other insignia on his uniform.
"Welcome to Groom Lake, Sir." The groundman greeted then saluted Colonel Varnelle as well.
Groom Lake Test Facility, better known as AREA 51. The top secret facility for the Air Force, Central Intelligence Agency, National Security Agency and Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. It was also known as Dreamland and Paradise Ranch.
The groundman led the group over to a twin turbo-prop plane. "We've made this King Air 200 available for you Sir. It's fueled and ready. Your flightplan is already filed. Here to Pahute Mesa and back. Just sign it out Sir."
LoneStar signed the form on the clipboard and handed it back. The groundman saluted and stood back. LoneStar, Lyssa, Samantha, Annette and Colonel Varnelle climbed in and closed the door. Minutes later the smaller plane was taking off and heading for the outer markers. It wasn't long before they were landing at the small airstrip in AREA 18, Pahute Mesa.
Lyssa woke up Annette then Samantha just after 03:30. Slowly they began to get into the protective suits. Shortly after they had landed, there was a civilian official giving them a more in-depth briefing for protocols inside Area 17. A helicopter pilot was about add another fifteen to twenty minutes with a briefing of their infil/exfil method. They would use SPIE rigs. Lyssa cut him off and turned it into a three minute lecture.
The SPIE, Special Patrol Insertion/Extraction, system was developed as a means to rapidly insert and/or extract a reconnaissance patrol from an area that does not permit a helicopter to land. It was the successor to the STABO rig. Personnel, each wearing a harness with an attached carabiner, hook up to a D-ring at the end of a rope or cable hanging down from the cargo hook of a helicopter. It was for use inserting or extracting troops from an area not suitable for landing. After clipping the bags with their personal gear to a ring at the waist area, they were ready.
What looked like three astronauts lumbered out of the small hangar toward a helicopter now slowly spinning its blades on the tarmac. LoneStar led them to the ends of the cables and helped hook them up. The helmets were closed and the air supply opened. After another check the three were given the thumbs-up. Lyssa had Samantha on the left and Annette on the right and had them rest on one knee as LoneStar waved they were ready. Slowly the Slick powered up. Old UH-1, Hueys, were used in the radioactive areas because of their low use of electronics.
The Slick lifted off and ease forward as it climbed. The lines drew upward and taut. Lyssa, Annette and Samantha had their arms to each other. Annette and Samantha extended their free arms out as they had been instructed. Finally they felt pulled upward and stood up. Soon the ground was no longer under their feet. The Helo pitched forward again and they were on their way deeper into the desert.
"WOW! This is actually cool!" Samantha said over the communications link.
Lyssa laughed. "Yeah. It's not so bad when nobody is shooting at you. You're both doing fine. Just enjoy the ride."
Annette said. "Ok. I'll admit, it's not as scary as those glider things we rode."
"You know. In a way, it's kind of pretty out here." Samantha commented.
Lyssa took a moment then said. "You'd be surprised at some of the scenery all over the world. Rainbows in Southeast Asia. Sunsets over the Caribbean. Fields of flowers in the Alps. The Southern Lights over Antarctica. We use those to try to balance out the other things we see there. It's not easy. Enjoy the good things when you find them. They can mean the world of difference. I think we're coming up on the LZ."
The helo slowed more and began to hover. Slowly it descended. When their feet touched the ground Lyssa let some slack gather then disconnected all three of them.
"Clear! Clear! That way!" Lyssa instructed.
They moved forward as fast as they could then Lyssa stopped and waved the helo. It began to climb again then banked away.
Lyssa turned around and took a compass bearing. "Ok. We need to go that way. No need to run. We have enough time. Just breathe normal. In about fifteen to twenty minutes we'll lose comms."
Both were surprised when Lyssa clipped two ropes to them.
"When we lose comms just tug the rope to get attention. The rope also keeps us from getting separated. Let's go. We can be there in about an hour and half if we don't goof off." Lyssa told them then led the way.
For almost twenty minutes they walked. A soft hiss began to be heard.
"Heads up. We about to lose comms." Lyssa said.
As they kept walking the static get stronger. Finally Lyssa stopped and turned around. She turned off the comm units then hand signaled to ask if they were ok. Annette and Samantha gave her the thumbs up so they continued on. Another twenty minutes passed and a human skeleton was seen lying along the path. Lyssa would bring each one up and check their air gauges regularly. None of them could tell what time it was though, so they had no idea how long they had been walking, but had passed more skeletons along the way.
Finally they saw something in the distance and Lyssa pointed to it. When they drew even, it became obvious. A sign.
SCORCHVILLE, NEVADA
POPULATION - 0
DETONATIONS - 135
STATUS- extra crispy
The skeleton leaning against the post contradicted any humor conveyed by the sign. Lyssa waved them to continue on. Five minutes later they entered a cluster of devastated buildings. At the far end Lyssa led them into a ruined brick and block building. Inside there was a concrete block house. Lyssa cranked a wheel and two doors slowly opened. Inside she cranked another wheel to close them then spun a small crank. It took several minutes then it felt like their world was moving. At one point things stopped and a sudsy liquid almost filled up the room then drained. Movement began again after that. When the doors finally opened a man stood glaring at them.
Lyssa cracked the helmet then lifted the visor. "Morning."
Annette and Samantha did the same.
"Finally! I thought we were going to run out of air!" Samantha exclaimed.
The man in all black BDUs spoke up. "Just who are you supposed to be? You better have clearance or you're all in seriously deep shit."
Lyssa removed the helmet completely. "I; of deepest, darkest faith. I am become, DemonWraith. I am The Immortal."
He wrote as she spoke. "Stay here."
He stepped back and the doors closed.
"Did he believe you?" Annette asked.
Lyssa shook her head. "He has to check against the book. If he can't find my identifier they take the elevator back up and force the doors open. The average person has ten to fifteen minutes of air left by the time they get here. I think you can figure the rest out."
Samantha said it for her. "Asphyxiate inside the suit or fry outside it. Dead either way."
"Or dig the pistols out of our bags and eat a bullet to spare us the pain of either one." Annette surmised.
The doors opened again and he waved them out. "Ok. You're cleared. It's morning?"
Lyssa lumbered out of the elevator. "Should be around zero-five or so. Saturday."
"Cool. So how long are you here for?" He asked.
"Minus seventy-two hours. We have to work fast. Interrogation of a prisoner. Number two-six-zero-nine." Lyssa replied.
He nodded. "We'll get him in there right away. Or did you want to get in a nap?"
"Is he currently on a sleep cycle?" Lyssa asked. "If he is then let him go for another three hours. We'll get in a nap. Once I start I can't stop. We'll eat and get in a nap."
"I'll get you started on getting out of those suits and go check." The guard said.
He returned a few minutes later then stepped back outside the doorway and cleared his throat. "Uh. He's sleeping currently. I'll just wait out here for you ladies."
When they came out in the form-fitting one-piece black suits, he struggled to keep a straight face and level gaze. They were shown to a lounge that had multiple couches. They ate the M.R.E.s they had brought with them then went to sleep.
Lyssa woke up Samantha then Annette.
"Huh? How long?" Annette asked, waking up.
Lyssa drank some water from a bottle. "Four hours. I let you both sleep a little more while I got the room ready."
"Ma'am?" One of the guards called from the door. "He's in the room as you ordered."
Lyssa nodded back. "Thank you."
Annette and Sam took turns in the bathroom then joined Lyssa.
"Gentlemen. I'm going to close the door. I advise it stay shut until I return. The door to the cell block will remain open." Lyssa said as Annette and Sam went out. "I want the prisoners to hear. Everything."
With that she closed the door to the lounge and led the way down the hall. They entered a room that was empty, but for a man now hanging by his wrists from chains attached to the ceiling.
Annette whispered to Samantha. "Oh shit sis."
"Uh-huh. We saw this before. Shawna was the student. We're about to watch the master now. I think we just entered a Hell we didn't know existed." Samantha whispered back, confirming Annette's suspicions.
Lyssa pointed to two chairs. Each had a notebook and pen. It became clear to the two what their purpose was. They were to take accurate account of everything the man said. They watched Lyssa apply the facial markings. An elegant design of swirls that distorted her face.
Lyssa began to put a syringe together then fill it with a clear liquid from a vial. "The time has come Adib."
"A woman? They must be getting desperate! Are you going to seduce information from me?" Adib laughed.
Lyssa pulled the Marauder from the back of her thigh. It looked different from the one seen before. Annette and Sam knew instantly, it was not the same knife. Adib's white smock and pants were cut away. Then he felt a needle pierce his neck and liquid being forced in slowly.
"Your truth serums have been used before." Adib chuckled then stopped. Pentythol took a while to have effect, but this was different. He suddenly felt cold and began to shiver. "What is it you gave me?"
Lyssa's soft voice was right beside his ear. "Inanna."
Adib's shivers became uncontrollable. The only thing holding him up, were the chains. Then the cold began to fade. Heat started. A punch slammed into his kidney area and Adib felt pain like never before and bellowed from it. without turning around to look at them, Lyssa waved for Annette and Sam to get ready to write.
"Past the gates, before the throne. I've been to Hell, Adib Ali Fahmoud. For all the evil you have done." Lyssa said gently as she circle around then let him see her face as it morphed into a hideous visage. "I'll be taking you there. Welcome, my new PET. I OWN YOU NOW."
That's when Sam and Annette noticed. Instead her usual pattern, there were no grays to fill the voids between black lines. It was red. It made the image, all the more frightening. They could only imagine what he was seeing.
Lyssa crouched down and took hold of a foot and looked up. "I'll begin here."
Adib whimpered as she traced a shallow line across the top of his foot then held the skin against the flat of blade and slowly pulled downward. He screamed as the skin and upper layer of dermis ripped away.
Lyssa looked up and smiled. "As my PET, I'm going to make sure you don't try to run away."
"Allah, most merciful. Grant me peace in your garden quickly!" Adib prayed.
Lyssa pulled another strip, only wider. " He cannot hear you in this place. Only I do now. My PET."
Lyssa laughed in cruel delight as another strip was taken and his screams hitched up louder. Every time he began to try praying, she interrupted his effort with more pain. Her smile was pure cruelty and laughter dripped malevolent delight as she worked her way up his legs, inch by excruciating inch. The only purpose seemed to be to inflict agony for the pure joy of it.
Annette and Sam simply forced themselves to stare at the notebook page. Occasionally writing his uttered attempts at prayer the best they could. Put simply, their knowledge of Arabic lacked and they were doing the best they could to write phonetically.
When Adib felt her begin pulling the flesh from high on his thigh, he screamed in English. "ASK ME QUESTIONS!"
"And interrupt the sport with MY PET? No. I am very amused as I am." Lyssa laughed without any humor.
Adib began telling everything he knew, but still she worked his body. Annette and Samantha barely had time to turn a page as they tried to keep up. They knew not to ask for any repeats, he would remember why it was really happening to him and the spell would be broken. Lyssa slowed her progress, but did not stop.
Lyssa stopped and stood straight. "Do you know the story of this place?"
Annette and Sam stopped writing and looked up in puzzlement.
Lyssa smiled. "Many years ago, after this prison was built. The mortals wanted to ensure no one ever left. They made their devices. Weapons they called them. From the many different peoples that had them and scattered them about. Then they called for the most wicked among them. Vast fortunes were paid. You see, they feared what awaited them. After death. In gold they paid, to be brought here."
Adib could still hear her, through the waves of pain moving up and down his body. He listened.
"Over six hundred of the most wicked gave over the wealth they amassed from the suffering of their fellow man. When the moon reached it's zenith on the longest night." Lyssa said, holding up her hand, as if cradling the Moon itself. "It happened. A firestorm much like when the thunder lizards roamed burned the night sky!"
Annette and Samantha shivered as Lyssa laughed loudly. "Heaven and Hell were furious! God and the Devil himself were cheated. It had been discovered before, these devices and the effect they had. Not only would the body be destroyed; the Soul too. It was destroyed! Neither received any! That is why this place, is here. Why YOU, are HERE. There is NO escape! You may die, yes! But your soul? Here. FOREVER. MINE to toy with. No Heaven. No Paradise. None of those places you foolish mortals think awaits you after I take you from your bodies. Only THIS. Only, ME!"
Lyssa then went after his abdominal area and he screamed louder and began to tell everything he had ever known.
"Shall I foretell the future?" Lyssa asked when he went quiet.
Annette made the mistake of looking up. Lyssa was holding up a clutch of Adib's intestines to his face. Annette quickly turned her head and vomited. Samantha looked over to Annette then Lyssa and did the same.
"I see much pain in your life." Lyssa chuckled then snarled. "What's LEFT of it!"
Adib looked up to the ceiling. "Yes! I KNEW I WOULD BE COMMITTING EVIL! I REGRET IT ALL! I TOOK WOMEN NOT MY WIVES! I HURT INNOCENT THAT WISHED ONLY TO LIVE IN PEACE! I ENJOYED KILLING THOSE THAT WOULD NOT FIGHT TO SAVE THEIR OWN LIVES! I DO NOT DESERVE PARADISE! I WILL GO WILLINGLY TO HELL! LET ME GO TO HELL! DO NOT LEAVE ME IN THIS PLACE! END ME! END ME! END ME!"
He had given everything he had. Names, dates, plans. Everything he had. Even how he had been recruited and recruited others. There was nothing more to take, but his last breath. Lyssa sliced into his neck and what was left of his blood pumped slowly out to drip onto the floor with the rest.
"Did you two get it all?" Lyssa asked softly.
Annette choked out. "Yes."
Samantha simply nodded.
Lyssa nodded back. "Go back to the lounge. Clean yourselves up."
Chapter 4
Annette and Samantha were getting antsy. They were ready to leave. Neither of them really wanted to talk about what happened in the room. Even the guards were 'tip-toeing' around Lyssa. Two of the other prisoners managed to commit suicide by strangling themselves in their cells. They were all terrified she would want a chance at them.
While Sam and Annette were in the bathroom of the lounge, Lyssa took Adib down from the chains and dragged his mutilated body a circuit of the cell block. All ninety-three prisoners saw what she had done. What was more unnerving was that she laughed the whole time. Smiling at each prisoner as she passed. The guards weren't thrilled to mop up the blood trail she left. Lyssa did give the man that did five hundred dollars cash for doing it, with an apology. She cleaned the room herself. Sam and Annette occupied their time with reading. It seemed that the ever changing guards there took turns writing in a series of journals. The options for entertainment in a place that could kill any recording was limited down to cards, board games and books.
While the guards were busy with duties Annette looked over to Lyssa. "Can I ask you a really stupid question?"
"Go ahead." Lyssa remarked, playing a game of chess against herself.
Annette took a moment then asked. "Aren't you worried some of these guys will recognize you?"
"Nope." Lyssa said and moved a piece then turned the board around. "None of these guys have wives or kids. That's mandatory for this. These guards come here from posts in scenic places; such as Korea, Panama, Iraq, Afghanistan, Alaska and so on. They spend a week here then go to their dream post."
Samantha looked up from the journal she was reading. "Dream Post? Is that like, the place they want to be stationed since they go into service?"
"Yeah. Some want Hawaii, or post close to their hometown. Some want Europe or Japan. Some want Paradise Ranch permanently. Others get a bonus for pulling this duty. Or a school; Special Forces, ParaRescue, BUDs. You get the idea." Lyssa said, continuing the game.
"So, no big ballet fans here?" Annette asked.
Lyssa chuckled. "Nope. These guys are serious about careers in service. They've already proven they can keep secrets. This place won't show up in the files. Only the clearance they have will. Certain people see that, and its the key that unlocks certain doors. but it never gets talked about; where they were, what they did. Notice, I never told you about this place until it came up?"
"Good point." Samantha remarked then asked. "That story you told. You were just messing with his mind some more, right?"
Lyssa sat back and thought. "Oh. You mean about the people paying money to be here when the nukes went off."
Annette nodded. "I was wondering about that too."
"Yeah. That's the urban legend around here. All the skeletons you saw, those are from people that were terminal disease patients. In exchange for being subjects of ground zero blasts and so on, their families got a settlement from 'an insurance policy'. A 'policy' that not only gave them a big settlement, all medical expenses were taken care of." Lyssa explained.
"That sounds a bit cruel." Annette remarked.
Lyssa shook her head. "Not when you really think about it. Those people were pretty much dead already. They were simple waiting to fill their coffins. They had incurable conditions. Everything from Tuberculosis to cancer of the brain. They were still able to decide for themselves how they wanted to die. They decided for themselves to have a death that meant something, over one that didn't. Months of misery in a hospital or a few milliseconds here. I heard there were some serious 'going out' parties."
"Parties?" Samantha asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Some spent the last night in penthouses of the casinos. Private shows of the rat-pack. Thousand dollar bottles of booze. Sex with porn stars. Dinner and dancing with Miss America. Word is, a couple of Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders were involved. John Wayne is reputed to have be there. Steve McQueen too."
"You're kidding! No way." Annette protested.
Lyssa stood up and walked over to the bookshelf and pulled a journal and handed it to Annette. "Read for yourself."
Annette opened the book and read then looked over to Samantha. "This is the journal of last requests!"
Samantha set the one she was reading aside and sat beside Annette on the other couch and together they began to read. One hundred people were allotted one page each to sum up the last day of their lives. Some made them laugh, others made them cry. A few even made them both blush. Just as they finished the last page Lyssa called their attention.
"Time to go." Lyssa said. "Our ride will be there just as we get there."
Ten minutes later they were riding the elevator back up and the doors opened. Lyssa led the way back to the landing zone. Within a few minutes, that seemed like forever, a light came on overhead and approached them. Chemical light sticks, Cyalumes, identified the ends of the cables. Quickly Lyssa hooked them to the cables then waved her arms. Almost instantly they were yanked skyward.
Back at AREA 18, the trio were set down and a man in full gear unhooked them then ushered them to a DeCon unit. It resembled a brushless carwash. Inside the hangar they stripped out of the suits and went through another DeCon then scanned.
"Are we ok?" Samantha asked LoneStar on the other side.
LoneStar's muffled voice replied. "Bobby won't have a problem finding you in bed after lights out for a few days."
At their looks of alarm the DeCon specialist shook his head. "He's kidding. You're within limits. We'll give you some pills to take for a couple of days to knock out any after-effects. Nothing to worry about. Just don't donate blood or anything for the next six months. Standard Procedure. You can go take a regular shower now."
Half an hour later they were out of the showers and dressed. Colonel Varnelle was looking over the notes.
"Can you read our writing?" Samantha asked.
Varnelle chuckled. "You two need to learn Arabic, but it's ok. I'm getting what I need."
"Ladies, Sir. Your pilot is waiting on the tarmac." A civilian official informed them.
They wasted no time to load back into the King Air and flew back to Groom Lake. There they transferred back to the Gulfstream. The route back was the same as when they came. The only difference was that Colonel Varnelle got off at Eglin AFB to hop a C-5 back to Washington.That evening they arrived back on the island.
Lyssa was putting away the clean breakfast dishes when a knock came from the front door.
"Come in." Lyssa called out.
"Good morning Lyssa." Maria said coming into the kitchen.
Lyssa put the last item away. "Good morning Maria. Would you like coffee?"
"Yes. Thank you. Do you have some time to spare?" Maria asked.
Lyssa served her a cup. "I believe I do. What would you like to talk about?"
Maria sat down at the counter and sipped the coffee. "The girls told me what happened out there. I think its safe to say, neither will be curious about such places again."
Lyssa sipped her own coffee. "To be honest, I have no desire to go to any of them again. However, because of what I am, I may be required to. This was one of those times, I don't get to say 'no'."
Maria mulled that over. Only fools did not respect her wishes, usually to their own doom. Lyssa's actions, or inactions, had global effect. Doing nothing could mean the loss of lives that could easily number in the thousands.
"I'd like to know, how much of an effect does one of your 'interrogations' have on you?" Maria asked point-blank
Lyssa sighed. "Now we get to the real point. It does have an effect Maria, I won't lie. I don't know how many more of those I can do. One day, I'll just freeze up or puke my guts out."
Maria sighed. "I see."
Lyssa refilled her own cup and returned to the breakfast bar. "The training I had to become what I am, it's nowhere near normal. It's brutal. Some might even say that it's designed to make us psychotic. We really do 'train to insane'. Our training exercises could actually kill us. Every boundary and limit is pushed."
"I heard you say something. Back on the ship. You said 'the deepest, darkest faith'. What exactly does that mean?" Maria asked.
Lyssa sighed. "It's in reference to The Way. It's more than training. More than motivation. It's a state of being. We give ourselves over to it. We give up everything to become that. We don't do it just because we can, we do it because its what we are. DemonWraiths aren't really made, we're found. There are basic traits that we all exhibit. Through the training, the raw diamond becomes the precious gemstone. Ore becomes gold."
"The chunk of metal becomes the deadly weapon." Maria mused.
Lyssa nodded. "More or less. The average soldier you could compare to a piece of rebar. Special Forces, high tensile steel. I would be the equivalent of a titanium alloy. I started out above the normal and through the training, that ingot was forged into the weapon."
Maria was absorbing that. "You inspire quite the visual."
"For you; it's heritage, tradition, honor and art. Not for me. For me; it's science, history, conditioning and philosophy. You are a DeMarco, it's expected of you to be an assassin. It comes with the name. For us; it's not WHO we are that determines what we do, it's WHAT we are that does. We don't go out on mission because we're soldiers. We go because it's why we exist. We were born to this. The training takes away the wildness. We become precise and consistent." Lyssa explained.
Maria stared intently. "You sound as if you have no choice Lyssa."
"Not much of one, if you want the truth. We just ARE. Part of the training is to understand that and direct it. Give us a focus. We learn to understand and accept what we are so that we can do what we do. That is The Way. In some aspects, it's not much different from the Shinobi philosophy." Lyssa said. "There is a method to understand. I've considered doing that for the girls. It may help them."
"Try me first." Maria said firmly.
Lyssa nodded. "Alright. Follow me."
That afternoon Kasey and Kristine found themselves in the main hangar in front of a long table of weapons and a big plasma screen on a stand behind it. The only people conspicuously absent were Mindy and Carl, currently diving in the cove.
Lyssa was standing between the table and the monitor. "Girls. Questions have been around ever since you've come to the island. Some of the answers you've already learned. Some still elude you. Those questions are about me, how I can do some of the things I do and why. Perhaps this will help you."
Lyssa pointed to two bladed weapons, a sword and a knife. "This is Will. It is forced through your enemy and they fall from it."
Now she had their attention. Samantha, Annette, Bobby and Hunter were now paying closer attention as well.
Lyssa pointed to a pistol. "This, is desire. You DESIRE your enemy to be no more."
Samantha whispered to Annette. "This is nothing like the way we were taught. This is. It's WAY different."
The assault rifle was next in Lyssa's commentary. "This is intent. You intend your enemy's death."
"This is like Ninja stuff." Hunter whispered to Bobby.
Bobby nodded and murmured. "Uh-huh."
Next Lyssa placed her hand on the .416 Barrett M82A1 sniper rifle. "This is thought. Every thought must be focused on the bullet reaching your enemy."
"This is hate. You must hate everything about your enemy to completely obliterate all trace of them." Lyssa said pointing to several types of explosives.
"She really boils it down. Doesn't she?" Dannigan asked Maria quietly.
Maria nodded in answer. She had went through a good bit of this earlier.
Lyssa indicated her body. This is means. Use your means to achieve an end. By fist, foot, whatever works."
Kasey and Kristine were completely focused on her every word. This was beyond deep for them. It was like having the universe explained, with visual cues. Lyssa drew their attention to the screen now. A collage of past enemies came up.
"This is Purpose. Because they exist, we fight." Lyssa said firmly.
When the picture of the destroyed slave ship came up Lyssa tapped it. "This is success. When we do what we are trained to do, we can make great things happen!"
"Yeah!" Kristine growled.
Kasey nodded. "Damn right!"
Lyssa almost slapped her hand to the monitor when the picture of newspaper announcements of Clare Brice and David Earp's death came up. "This is failure! WE dropped the ball or didn't have OUR shit together and THEY paid the price for it!"
The two teens' expressions hardened instantly. Their anger was evident.
"This is honor. If we are to fall, we must be worthy of where we are last taken to." Lyssa said reverently at the picture of Arlington cemetery.
The picture switched to the team going through the killhouse and Lyssa said flatly. "This is method. Culmination of that which you do."
Even Kimberly was watching the others as Lyssa spoke. She could tell it was getting through to them.
A picture of them all on the beach laughing and having a good time came up and Lyssa smiled. "This; is being. Being at peace. Being at play. Being family."
All heads were nodding. They understood what she was driving at with that one.
"This is duty. It is our duty to go into harm's way. To fight for those that can't or don't know how to for themselves." Lyssa said of the picture of the teams getting onto the C-130. It was the night they assaulted the Styx.
The picture of Kasey, Kristine, Mindy and the twins was next and Lyssa's voice softened. "This is love. We do all we can to give them a world without need of what we do."
Eddie commented to LoneStar. "That's just plain playing dirty for Lyssa. Laying on that guilt trip."
LoneStar nudged him subtly but shrugged. "She does have a point."
A picture of Lyssa standing over a body, her pistol still smoking. "This is nothingness. I felt no hate, no satisfaction, no anger, no pleasure. Nothing at all."
Lyssa stood directly in front of them. "This is the Faith. Deepest and Darkest. It only comes with the greatest of sacrifice. I; did step out of the light. And took my place, within the night. To Hell; my enemies, I do send. For Death; is my single, solitary friend. I; of Deepest, Darkest Faith. I am become, DemonWraith."
"Lyssa is warning them." Rodrick whispered to Maria. "She doesn't want them to try becoming what she is. She knows they wouldn't survive it. it's more and worse that anything Bobby or I went through."
Maria looked back at the former SEAL. "She hates herself that much?"
"No Maria. She does not. She knew fully, what she was in for and that there was no other way for her. It's not glamorous. It's not fun. In truth, Lyssa is terrifying. Even to me. I listened all night long to the horrors she's endured. I've held her when she woke up screaming from the nightmares of when she wasn't fast enough. She knows the price and doesn't want the girls to pay it." Rodrick said sadly.
Maria looked back at Lyssa. "The Post-Traumatic Stress you all suffer."
"Maria when you were taught and when you've taught Annette and now the girls. To you its an art, old and revered. Filled with tradition and heritage. Lyssa isn't like that. They aren't taught that way. The way they're taught; you could easily call it a religion. Their views of their own lives and deaths are something of a cross between Vikings, Templars, Samurai and suicide bombers. Their actions have global effect. Big picture Maria. Really BIG." Rodrick stressed the last part.
Dannigan said. "Lyssa is one of those few blessed and cursed to be that which she is. As if created specifically for it."
"As if born to it. Or for it." Maria surmised and looked to Dannigan and Rodrick.
Both nodded grimly and said. "Yes."
"Rodrick you made one small mistake when it comes to my family's traditions. Yes, what the DeMarco and Capizeo families pass down is an art and tradition, but there is also honor, duty, and sacrifice. We do not teach our ways lightly. There is an old saying among assassins. 'Only the strong can survive the way, and the way is that of the blade. Double edged and always deadly'." Maria stated.
Lyssa was talking to the girls again. "As I told your mothers; I've been many places and seen some incredible things. I try to use that to balance out the other things I've seen. The most important, is when I look at you kids here. I do all I can to make the world a better place for you. I do NOT want you to take our places. I want you to have the chance at creating your own. Do you understand better now?"
"Yes Prima Lyssa." Kasey and Kristine said.
Lyssa smiled to them. "Now go get into some swimwear and have some fun on the beach. Take your parents with you. They need it too."
The two teens needed no further encouragement. They smiled and ran off to do just that. The Deputies followed behind them.
Book 45 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Lyssa's past is coming to confront her. The Immorrtal must face those who are as feared as she is. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
It was nearly 0100 as the C-17 came in on final approach. Lyssa stood at the doors of the main hangar as it touched down and ran almost to the end of the runway then slowly turned around to taxi back. Eddie and Carl stood by with the tug and a fork truck. When the ramp finally lowered, men began to walk off.
"That's them." Dannigan said beside her.
It wasn't a question. Just confirmation of the obvious.
"Paulo. Who are these people?" Maria asked, counting 15 men.
Carl had driven the forktruck up into the plane and began off-loading conex boxes.
"Carl! Set those over between the main hangar and hangar three. Beside the Med-trailer. Twenty feet apart." Rodrick instructed.
Carl waved as he drove away. "You got it Boss!"
Slowly the group approached the hangar.
Lyssa sighed. "They're here for me, Maria. I have a price to pay."
Before Maria could ask further, she noted the men. Only one wore a digital camo uniform and seemed to be in charge of them. The rest; well, looked just like a collection of men you'd see in any public place. Some wore jeans and t-shirts, others wore chinos and polo or short sleeved dress shirts. One was actually wearing a nice looking suit, but casually. That wasn't all that varied. Long hair, short, bald, beards, goatees, mustaches, five o'clock stubble and clean shaven. They ran quite the gamut. The only thing they seemed to have in common, were the bags they carried. Two large duffle-style bags. Those and the undeniable air of confidence.
The man in uniform turned out to be a Colonel and he led them all to stop in front of Dannigan and saluted. "Sir."
"Colonel Raines." Dannigan stated then returned the salute. "As you were."
Whispers began and heads turned to Lyssa. One of the group, wearing jeans and t-shirt sporting the Barrett Arms Company logo, slowly approached. He had a bruise high on his left cheek.
"You look amazing." He smiled and said to Lyssa.
Lyssa nodded back. "You look good too. Nice to see you Whisper. Where'd you get that?"
Another walked up, stared her up and down then punched her. Lyssa didn't block or dodge it and staggered back then squared herself and retook her position.
Maria looked horrified then furious, but Lyssa held up her hand to stop her.
"I'll take that." Lyssa replied unfazed. "You done, Blitz?"
Blitz growled. "Whether I wanna be or not? Yeah; I'm fuckin' done. Coulda fuckin' told us. "
"Anybody else?" Lyssa asked.
Another guy smirked. "Sure. Why not?"
He was stopped though; by the man wearing a three-piece suit, minus tie, that glared at him. "She was not speaking to you, Zombie."
Lyssa turned to the Colonel. "Colonel. I'm not thrilled with all this. Things are going just fine for me."
"You've been in the dark and that's unacceptable. You know the deal. You're one of us. That means as long as you're operational, you get evaled. How he got you past us for this long, is a mystery and will be corrected. Now if you don't like it, you can be pulled from the Field. Like it or no, Immortal?" Colonel Raines snarled, already knowing the answer.
Lyssa squared herself. "Neither. I'll do it and hate you for it, SIR. I decide when I leave the Field, or I'll die on it. I won't be thrown away again by you and your standards."
Colonel Raines snapped his fingers, Whisper and Blitz moved back and he stared at her. "You became known! Compromised! There was absolutely NO way you could remain in the Field after that, and YOU know it! You got what you wanted regardless, Immortal. You're Operational. Fine, I can understand that. Even sympathize. Once I've gone through all your mission data, I'll either commend you or slam you for it. No matter either way, you WILL be evaluated. Hate me all you want, but you know the drill. Standards are standards and you will adhere to them. This is where you say 'Hoo-Ahh Sir'."
Lyssa continued to stare straight ahead. "Hoo-fucking-Ahh, SIR."
"Who's the Ops-Boss for this unit?" Colonel Raines asked.
Kimberly stood at Attention and answered. "Captain Kimberly Lando, SIR."
"You didn't have to give me a full name and rank, Captain. Call-signs work just fine with us. However, since you did introduce yourself; Captain, I want a briefing in fifteen minutes and access to all Operational Data for Immortal." Colonel Raines stated.
Kimberly simply stood there and replied. "Understood, Sir. Denied."
Dannigan walked over and said quietly to the Colonel. "Raines, you are forgetting that I am in charge here. You will remember that. All requests come through me. Do I make myself absolutely and undeniably fucking clear, Colonel?"
Raines forced himself not to glare as he replied tightly. "Yes Sir. I request a briefing in fifteen minutes and access to all of the Immortal's Operational Data, Sir."
"With me." Dannigan crooked a finger and led him away. Much of the conversation was too low to hear but four words were picked up; your ass, Antarctica and transferred.
They returned three minutes later and Dannigan looked over to Kimberly. "Kimberly, give the briefing and Lyssa's data only. At ZERO-NINE. Colonel get your men squared away. I hear PT is at zero-five and the one leading it gets rather cranky when people interrupt her sleep."
Dannigan turned to go, as did Kimberly. Maria continued to look at the collected men.
"Lyssa. I am a bit curious as to who these men are. If in name only." Maria said.
"Well, I guess some cursory introductions would be fine." Lyssa replied then pointed to the one in the Barrett t-shirt. "That's Whisper. He was the X.O. back in my day."
Whisper smiled then gently shook Maria's hand. "I'm the team Commanding Officer these days. Whisper, pleased to meet you. Maria DeMarco."
'I remember this name. He interrogates. How does he know my name?' Maria thought to herself then arched an eyebrow and asked. "No rank mentioned?"
"Odd to have my reputation precede me." Whisper chuckled. "We don't need them. The only rank actually recognized is the Colonel's."
"Hello Ma'am." A voice said, immediately catching her off guard.
Lyssa commented. "He's Blitz. And no, you didn't imagine he was several feet away just a second ago."
"Really?" Maria was still unsettled. The man had been at least ten feet away before she heard his voice and turned to see him right in front of her to shake hands. "A pleasure Mister Blitz."
A gentle and calm voice chuckled. "Be honored, Blitz. Maria 'The Dove' DeMarco, herself, called you 'Mister'."
Maria looked to see the man speaking and was surprised. At closer inspection; the suited man was, simply put, beautiful. In fact, he was absolute perfection. Golden tanned, glittering green eyes, sandy hair that was classically styled and a smile that beckoned kisses. He casually took Maria's hand and lightly brushed his lips to it.
"Buona sera, carissima Signora." He said in perfect Italian with a Lombardy accent.
Maria was impressed and even graced him with a blush. "And just who might you be, Bello?"
"Adonis." He replied with a smile that even reached his eyes.
Lyssa sighed. "Knock it off. Yes, Maria. He's called Adonis. You've probably seen him in multiple magazines. He's a model. And, yes he is just as big a scoundrel as they come. Still with the Ford Agency in New York or did you go to Elite in Paris?"
Adonis shook his head. "No, I'm still with Ford. They work with my 'busy schedule'."
"What he means is: between shows he has no way of getting out of, he's out killing people and tearing shit up." Lyssa remarked.
Adonis actually leaned in and kissed Lyssa's cheek. "Just like you! I feel dejected that you never said anything at the Burberry show. Or the Dior show. Or St. Laurent. Or Armani. Or Dolce."
Lyssa pushed him back. "DOWN! I'm married and that's just creepy. Like having a brother getting up on me. OFF!"
"Notice she put that 'married' part first?" Commented a man that pretty much looked plain, wearing chino's and a polo shirt.
Lyssa looked over at him crossly. "Don't start. Maria, that idiot is Getaway. If it moves, he can make it go. From a damned unicycle to an F-35. Any vehicle, he can operate it. Usually, stupidly."
Getaway looked indignant. "Hey now, some things that work in cartoons DO work in real life. Nice to meet you, Ma'am."
"A pleasure, I'm sure." Maria chuckled.
A man stepped forward, he wore chinos and a short sleeved dress shirt. "Kilo, Ma'am."
"Interesting, to have such a name." Maria observed.
Kilo shrugged. "Snipers wind up with weird names. Most pick them out personally, trying to sound cool. Not me."
Maria nodded. "Ah. I think I get it now. Kilo being sniper-speak for One-Kilometer Shot. I take it, such is routine for you?"
Kilo shrugged.
"Don't be fooled Maria, it is. He took four Cold Kilo-shots in under four minutes. All, head-shot kills." Lyssa remarked then pointed to the man to Maria's right. "That's Noc, short for Nocturnal."
Maria watched him approach. It was unnerving. He moved in absolute silence and had an intensity the others didn't exude. He had pale eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dark. She could tell instantly, this man was very dangerous. In fact, it seemed he was drifting in and out of shadows as he closed in. He reminded Maria of another man long ago, a man that had taken every ounce of her formidable skills to kill. Only this man seemed to be an actual part of the darkness around them.
Just above a whisper he greeted her. "Hello."
"Hello." Maria started to offer her hand.
Lyssa caught her attention. "He won't shake hands. Noc has a thing about interacting with people, it's not personal Maria. Nobody better to have when the lights go out, but he's not big on the social side. That's all the ones I know here."
"The rest are FNG's Immortal." Getaway replied. "Still earning."
The enthusiastic one from earlier spoke up. "Hey, I'm not that new. I earned my name. I'm Zombie."
"Please, tell me it has nothing to do with brains." Maria commented then caught herself and had to laugh. "That definitely did not come out right!"
Blitz looked impressed. "Wow. She nailed it, in two seconds flat. I like your friend, Immortal. She called it right!"
"Zombie, you made it through Kill-Zone by the skin of your teeth. You're still earning though." Kilo said then turned to Maria. "Yes Ma'am, he has nothing to do with brains. That's the problem. He thinks he's hot shit because he can take 23 rounds center-mass and not go down, much less die. We keep telling him not everybody plays fair, doesn't listen."
Maria nodded. "Good body armor can save your life."
"What body armor?" All fourteen men asked at once.
Blitz looked over. "Ma'am, that happened when he was sixteen, caught in a drive-by."
Adonis shook his head. "I still say it had much to do with his personality. He should take a workshop, or ten."
"Blain Holland is dead." Lyssa said flatly.
Blitz looked over. "Huh?"
"She killed him." Whisper said, staring off into nothing then looked at Lyssa. "You killed him on that ship. That slave ship. He was one of the slavers."
Getaway gave a thumb's up. "Fuckin' ay! Never liked the guy. Just wish we could find out who did Congressman Fuck-wad. He's the pussy that burned us."
Suddenly Whisper stood straight as a rod and his mouth hung open, staring at her. He recovered himself and slowly went over, hugged Lyssa tightly then looked to Blitz then the other four. One by one their whole demeanor towards her changed as they went over and hugged her. No one else could hear what they were saying to her.
Blitz hugged her again. "I got no problems with you. I was accepting this new you, because I have to. Not anymore. You are our first sister and we love you. Thanks Immortal. No need to, but still earning anyway. Ye, of The Faith."
As one, the seven of them recited as if in prayer. "I; did step out, of the Light. And took my place, within the Night. To Hell; my enemies, I do send. For Death; is my single, solitary, friend. I; of deepest, darkest, Faith. I am become; DemonWraith."
Whisper turned to Maria. "Sorry to hold everything up. The guy over there, in the grey shirt, that's Trembler."
"Ma'am." Trembler nodded.
Maria understood immediately. "Ah. You must work in demolitions."
"The two in the middle is Clean and Kicker, they handle CQB. Left is Clean and right is Kicker. That guy trying to blend into the scenery, in the back, is Drift. There's nowhere he can't get into, just ask Fort Knox. Among other no-go places.” As Whisper spoke, he pointed to each man individually.
After pointing out the last, Maria smirked. “If my niece weren’t a nun, they would make a good match.”
"Why'd she say Nun?" Drift looked around confused. "I'm not even Catholic."
Continuing on, Whisper pointed out another man to Maria. “The guy over there that you might think is good to adopt, or date, is Patch. He's actually a real doctor." Whisper continued.
Blitz nodded. "Yeah. No idea how he got in the Army. He's way over-qualified. Trauma and Orthopedic Surgeon, that's why he's called Patch."
Patch chuckled and came over to shake hands. "Ma'am. I was shown mercy and not called Frankenstein by this bunch."
"Doctor." Maria smiled.
Whisper pointed to the last two men. "In the white shirt is Quest, he's always looking for answers. That last one is Madeline."
"Madeline?" Maria asked.
Blitz snickered. "He's like that woman on Burn Notice. 'Put me in a cave in Afghanistan, drop me on the Moon. She'll find a way to call.' That's him to a T!"
Maria laughed. "AH! Communications MUST be your specialty."
"I wound up with THE worst name of all." Madeline almost sulked.
Colonel Raines came around the corner. "Let's get these quarters secured. Ma'am."
Maria nodded back. "Colonel. Gentlemen."
Maria turned and went back to her home as Lyssa did the same. Outside Lyssa stopped Maria once they were well away from the hanger. “Maria, whatever happens over the next few days, none of you train. Especially Kasey and Kristine.”
Maria gave her friend an odd look then nodded her head. “You are unsettled by all this. I can tell. Very well Lyssa. We will not train. How did your friend Whisper know my name?”
Lyssa shook her head. "Can't tell you."
Chapter 2
By seven, Lyssa had performed a HALO assault on the Kill-house under their watchful eyes. After that, she all but tore the six of the new guys apart, hand-to-hand. They hadn't been trained in her fighting style. Just before eight that morning; Kasey and Kristine, followed by their parents, came into the hangar and came up short to see so many people they didn't know. The men stood casually in fitted field uniforms with no identities or markings, cups of coffee in their hands, talking to Pete and Rodrick. Maria came in as well.
Rodrick waved them over. "Morning. Uh, school is going to be on break for a while."
"Rod. Who are these guys?" Samantha asked.
Whisper greeted them. "Let's see. You are; Samantha. Annette. Hunter. Bobby. And you two are Kasey and Kristine. Morning, I'm Whisper."
"Hello." Annette replied, wondering how he knew exactly who they all were and why his name sounded familiar.
Whisper was fixed on Bobby though and called over his shoulder. "Kicker. You need to come over here. An old face."
Kicker turned around and gawked then came over. "BOBBY! Hey man. I thought you were out? I heard you became a fed or somethin'. Call me Kicker now."
They grasped hands in the classic brotherly handshake and gave a quick shoulder bump.
"I did. U.S. Marshals. I heard you made it into C.A.G." Bobby said.
Kicker shook his head. "Not really. I'm one of THEM now. U.S. Marshals, huh? Who'da thunk it? You look good man. Civilian life is suitin' you just fine. So who're these folks you're with here?"
"Not so easy to explain Kicker." Bobby chuckled and turned around. "Since I'm such an unconventional guy, I have an unconventional family. I'm married to both Sam and Annette. Hunter is married to them both as well and these two are our daughters, Kasey the elder and Kristine the younger."
Trembler came over. "Wait. You said you are married to both of them, and he is too? How's THAT work?"
"Bobby's a Sioux from Wyoming, Trembler. They can do the plural marriage thing." Kicker said then introduced. "This is Trembler. He's our demolitions and disposal guy."
Adonis had come over and gave them all a once over. "Interesting culture. Hello ladies. Gentlemen."
"Hi." Kasey drawled and smiled brilliantly. "I'm Kasey."
Adonis smiled back. "Adonis. Nice to meet you."
Even Samantha and Annette were entranced by the handsome man and greeted him. "Hello."
Kristine's eyes went wide and she pulled Kasey close to whisper in her ear then nodded to him.
"Sir, weren't you featured in a shoot for the new swim line for Armani?" Kasey asked.
Adonis chuckled. "I was. Which one did you like, the blue or the print?"
Kristine blushed. "Both were very nice."
"Tell you what. I have a nice sized picture, from the Dior show. I was wearing an incredible tux. If you like, I can autograph two for the both of you to keep." Adonis offered.
In typical teenage fashion, both girls smiled and answered. "OK!"
"Buongiorno." Maria greeted them.
Adonis unleashed the million-watt smile. "Buongiorno Signora DeMarco."
"Stop that." Lyssa remarked, walking by. "She's taken too."
“Sorry, but I’m already married. Much like your friend.” Maria told him.
"Please? I get so lonely now, without you in my life Immortal." Adonis teased back. "You won't walk for Victoria's Secret or pose for Playboy. What am I to ever do?"
"You could get a hobby." Kimberly suggested. "Like, how many cold showers can you take in a day?"
The other DemonWraiths laughed and called out at him.
Adonis bowed as he laughed too. "A confirmed Kill, Captain. One to you, Ma'am."
"Follow me gentlemen." Kimberly stated then led the way to the classroom trailer.
Inside, the desks had been moved and a group of chairs arranged in front of the large plasma screen. Dannigan and Colonel Raines were already waiting. Both had coffee.
Kimberly took place beside the screen. "Take your seats and I'll begin."
For two hours Kimberly gave information and answered questions between videos on the screen of training. Unfortunately, so much of it did not consist of Lyssa on her own and therefore raised more questions.
"I'd like to see more of those three's training. Live-fire if possible. I like what I've seen so far. Immortal did a fantastic job from what I did see. I'd like to see more." Colonel Raines complimented.
"Sorry Colonel. Only one of them is here. One is currently deployed overseas and the other is on stand-by in CONUS." Dannigan replied. "Other videos can be made available though later on."
The team had been taking mental notes and raised questions to Kimberly. Lyssa had to step in more than once to clarify certain things. When the video of Bond Day in the Kill-house played, they all mimicked the music for a minute before laughing.
Colonel Raines shook his head. "Immortal, I am curious; did that actually serve a purpose or was it just to bring enthusiasm to the training?"
Kimberly answered. "I'll answer that. Colonel, believe it or not, it actually did serve a purpose. Working in the worst possible situation. High heels and evening gowns really don't lend themselves to tactical work. In reality, it's the WORST things to be wearing. But, we now know how to work within that setting and not be falling all over the place. That translated to even more control during more anticipated times of combat. It did help, alot. The original idea was to keep the training interesting. It served both."
"Colonel, perhaps we should take a page out of their book. Acquire suits, tuxedos and slick-soled dress shoes for counter-assaults. I can see now what they mean. It's a good idea." Whisper remarked.
Adonis nodded. "I agree. We've certainly had to be at Embassy functions enough. I'm surprised nothing like that has happened already to us during one."
Rodrick nodded. "Busted my ass twice. I advise you to try it and you'll see the value. I thought it was just a goof too, taught me different."
The videos resumed and finally they came to the assault on the Styx. Dannigan introduced it.
"Gentlemen, you are about to see the actual assault on Motor Vessel Styx. I'm sure you've all heard about it." Dannigan said.
Clean stood up. "Sir, you mean to tell us that you all are the ones that took those fucks down?"
"Goddamned right. You're about to see something that the Director of every Law enforcement and Intelligence agency in the world would give both testicles to see. Run it." Dannigan ordered.
From start to finish, they watched in almost total silence. A chorus of cheers went out and Kicker whistled when Zak Simmons was brought down. Catcalls went out when Lyssa brought down Blain Holland.
"Pause." Whisper requested then went over and hugged Lyssa. "Again, thank you."
Colonel Raines nodded. "If nothing else, THAT has my approval, Immortal. Even though you used civilian assets to get the op completed, the results are impressive. Resume please."
Maria and the Black Badge Deputies bristled under the man’s disregard for them. If not for Maria’s raised hand, Bobby and Hunter would have been flipping a coin for his head, while Annette and Samantha competed for his heart. Dannigan looked over to the Black Badges and shook his head 'no'. They all got the unsaid order. Stand down for now.
"That's not accurate, Sir." Whisper remarked.
Raines looked over. "Clarify."
Kicker stood up. "Bobby served with me over in Afghanistan, Colonel. He was in Group. Not a regular Deputy Marshal."
"Deputy Marshal Taugh was a Ranger before transferring to the MPs and ETS to join the Marshals." Whisper added.
Colonel Raines nodded. "I stand corrected. That explains your performance. Well done."
The gathered Operators sat back and watched until the team loaded into the Chinook and the signal cut. As they clapped and whistled or called out, Dannigan took the front.
"Questions?" Dannigan asked and was answered with everyone holding up a hand. An hour went by answering questions then they broke for a late lunch. As they were leaving, Dannigan pulled Maria off to one side. “Ria, keep an eye on the girls, I don’t want them anywhere near Raines. I trust that man as far as I can throw his ass and I can throw his ass. As for your team’s training, keep it under wraps. None of these men should know anything about your Family Traditions. They know about Bobby and Hunter, which is fine. I want to keep them in the dark about the rest.”
“Si, Paulo. Lyssa asked that we not show ourselves last night. I’ll make sure that my family know at lunch. Are you joining us?” Maria asked.
Dannigan chuckled. “I AM on the island. Of course I’m joining you. Besides, I have a feeling that if I didn’t, Anna would try to beat me about the head and shoulders.”
Chapter 3
After lunch, Maria approached Patch. "Doctor. Might I have a moment?"
"Just call me Patch, Ma'am." Patch replied as they walked away from the group. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand that you are the actual physician for this group. That is correct, yes?" Maria asked.
Patch nodded. "Yes Ma'am. I've performed many procedures on them. Are you asking for treatment of some kind?"
"I would like to solicit your medical opinion. I'd of course pay you a proper compensation for providing that." Maria said.
Patch smiled. "No charge. I'm told there is a small facility here. Shall we?"
"Your patient is already there and waiting for us, Patch." Maria replied and led the way, giving details.
At the medical trailer Maria introduced Anna. "Patch, this is Anna. Anna, this gentleman is Patch. He is the physician for the elite team visiting us I told you about. I've asked him to examine you and give his opinion."
"Doctor." Anna nodded.
Patch held up his hand. "Just Patch. I'm told the concern is your shoulder."
Maria handed him a thick file. "Her records."
"Oh that helps. That helps alot. Let's see." Patch looked through them, pulled the x-rays and read more. He shook his head. "Knife wounds are the worst. That was some blade he got you with. Damage was a given. I see here; a Doctor Stinson did the preliminary work and later on, Doctor James Whooten went back in."
"Are you familiar with either of them?" Maria asked.
"Jim, yes. He does incredible work, he's who I would call if needed. Yes, I see he used that new rotator, very smart. He invented that, you know." Patch commented.
Finally he began to actually physically examine Anna then sat back. "Alright. Anna, if I may, you are at 80 to 85 percent mobility. Honestly, that's all you'll have. There is no appliance or technique currently that will improve that. Here's my prognosis; for the next three to four years you will be as you are. After that, you will begin to lose mobility. You will degrade yearly, depending upon stress to the joint and the appliance. I really don't like saying this, but this will be due to age. As good as we are, we can't stop the clock. It's ticking Anna, and not forward. You're on a countdown clock now. Here's where I give you what kindness can be given; whatever you have planned for retirement, put it in order and get on it in the next year or two."
"I was told a much shorter span. Thank you for being truthful Doctor Patch." Anna said and put her blouse back on.
Patch pointed to the table. "Alright Mrs. Demarco, you're next. I want to see that left hip of yours, your right shoulder and both hands."
"Oh, I'm fine Patch." Maria replied.
"Maria. Take off your clothes and get on the table, old friend. I, now, insist." Anna gave her oldest friend an intent look.
Maria removed her blouse and skirt then sat on the table. "Very well. If only to humor you Anna."
She immediately regretted that decision. Patch took her through several mobility movements of her hips, knees, ankles, shoulders, wrists and hands and even provoked a yelp at one point. Then he attacked her feet, which drew out several words she had punished her daughters over.
"I feel like I was just given the once over by Torquemada himself!" Maria remarked.
Anna smirked. "You seemed to have proven devout enough, he let you go."
Patch chuckled. "Good relationship! Must have started during childhood, I'm envious. Maria, I have good news and bad."
"Proceed. Worst first." Maria groaned.
Patch nudged her shoulder. "Strain. Ease up on it some. Your hip is not that bad. It's simple muscle. You're not stretching correctly. Slow down and do it right. Your ankles could be better, but I'd say they're ok, for now. Your hands and wrists are a bigger concern. I'd suggest some strengthening exercises. Simple ones. Use a rubber ball. I don't know about your current bone density, but I would recommend a supplement for added calcium and some gloucosamine for your joints, both of you. Perhaps to appeal to your cultured sensibilities, I'd also recommend a weekly spa visit for massage. You want more in-depth, I'd have to get some lab work done on you both."
Anna shook her head. "I've had quite enough needles puncturing my body doctor, thank you very much."
"Well, then I'll just end with sound medical advice, take it easy as much as you can. Nutrition, proper exercise, rest and recreation. Oh, and please do routinely check yourselves for any irregularity of your body. Early detection is prudent. That's it." Patch finished.
Maria began to get dressed. "What exactly was the good news?"
"Ma'am, you are in fine shape and one of the most beautiful women I've ever examined. You have much to smile about. Don't forget that. Adonis tells me you are a former Prima. You're condition is impressive considering that. I've heard of horror stories about much younger. I bet they are completely consumed with jealousy." Patch smiled.
Anna chuckled. "Competent and kind. He's a wonderful physician, my Donna."
"Indeed. Doctor, I thank you for your time and attention." Maria agreed.
Patch sat back. "Donna? Isn't that a mafia term?"
Maria just smiled in reply.
"Well, well. This is a first! I guess I made the big-time now." Patch whistled low. "Mind if I let you both in on a secret?"
Anna liked this and smiled. "Please do, doctor Patch."
Patch chuckled. "I was going to examine you both anyway. In fact, I'll be examining everyone here. Your Major, he's funny as hell, already arranged it this morning with me."
"Why do you say that about him?" Maria asked curiously.
Patch just smiled. "I already knew who he really is. He recognized me and informed me who you are to him. Mrs. Polson. Your father-in-law is doing about the same. I'll give him your regards."
"I see. You are his doctor as well. Thank you for your discretion, Doctor." Maria said warmly. "Please be kind with our granddaughters and especially with Mindy."
"You may have every confidence. I will look after each one as if they were my own." Patch assured her then went to the door to escort them out.
Maria and Anna walked out and saw everyone gathered at a sandy area.
"What's going on?" Maria wondered aloud.
Patch shook his head. "Evaluation has resumed. It won't be pretty, much less nice. I'm surprised they aren't shooting at her already. Ladies, you may not want to observe. This has killed normal men in the past."
Maria squared her shoulders and went forward. She would see this for herself, perhaps gain some insight as to how they do things. Reaching the group, she stood behind Kasey and Kristine to watch.
Kilo stood several feet away and held out a stun gun. He triggered it and sent the probes straight at Lyssa as she held her arms up. They lodged and her body began to shake.
"Fifty." Kilo called out then adjusted and called out. "Full. Light 'er up."
Getaway and Adonis also fired stun guns at Lyssa. Standing in place, she growled slightly as Blitz and Noc also fired. For almost a full minute she held then screamed and spun as her arms swung down to yank the probes out. Lyssa grabbed two batons off the sand as they formed a circle. Lyssa stood in the center with the batons in her hands. Maria remembered the men coming at her were the ones she knew from the before days. However, these men were not holding back. They were attacking in earnest, lightning fast and accurate. Only Lyssa's speed and skill were able to counter them. Somehow, she was holding her own against all six. Even though she took hits that seemed to make her move away or downward, she was able to shrug them off and stay in the fight.
Anna winced. "They do this, to each other, as a test?"
"I did warn that you may not want to watch." Patch remarked.
Patch had been right, there was nothing pretty or nice about it. This was pure brutality. A fight to see how long Lyssa could remain standing. They attacked her, singularly and in groups. At close range, their moves were like a blur and they all fought in that same unnerving silence. The only sound heard, were impacts. Blitz moved at an inhuman speed. Noc was like a snake, unpredictable. Kilo's attacks were a study in accuracy for areas of high damage. Adonis was attacking with strength that had only been hinted at. Getaway targeted in blindspots. The one that seemed the strangest though, was Whisper. It was like he knew most of her movements as fast or even faster than she did. Blitz was suddenly back in range, from nowhere, to make a quick slashing strike that made Lyssa spin away.
"OW! That looked like it really hurt." Kristine commented about the nasty impact that spun Lyssa around. "Damn, that guy's really fast!"
Kasey nodded. "Yeah. Like crazy, scary, fast. They're like, beating the hell out of her. For real."
Patch shook his head. "That's Blitz. She's about the only one that can hold their own against him. She barely felt that tap."
Maria looked incredulous. "How?"
Patch chuckled. "When she was re-teaching them how to fight hand-to-hand, one of the things she did was bring in professional stunt-men. Those guys are trained to take impacts and lessen them into almost nothing. Essentially, she transferred the momentum into a release. She'll bruise and have welts, but that's it. Wait a minute. Oh shit! What's Whisper doing in there?"
Before any could ask what he meant, Colonel Raines had arrived. "WHISPER! YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!"
Whisper laughed as he backed out. "BUSTED! Have at it."
"That dumb-ass." Patch just shook his head and went over to check Whisper out then wave him over to the side, out of the way.
"What was all that about?" Annette asked.
Whisper chuckled. "I'm not supposed to get in with her. Ever."
"Why?" Kasey asked.
"Too valuable. I'm an occifer. Those mean ol' non-comms like getting rough with us." Whisper remarked, deliberately slurring the word.
Zombie bolted. "I'll jump in!"
Maria had a feeling that Whisper wasn't exactly telling the truth about why he was forbidden, but before she could ask, he spun around and began to run back. "FUCK! NO!"
Lyssa's whole demeanor changed after Zombie approached and said something none of the others could hear. Immediately she was all over him, and showing no mercy. Lyssa had even dropped both the batons and simply went at him bare-handed. Mere seconds, that was all it took. Zombie was on the defensive and lost ground fast. Before he could even get his bearings corrected, Lyssa hit with a flurry of strikes that worked down his torso then his knees, which dropped him to the ground. Lyssa angled to the side then went up to come down, slamming his forehead with her hand. None of the others had gotten close to her to get in an attack. Now they backed away completely.
Angrily, Lyssa turned and walked away, heading for her house. "How'd that work out for you, you fucking wanna-be?"
Zombie seemed to be trying to move, but his position wouldn't change. All he could do was painfully grunt. That's when he realized it. He couldn't move anything. Nor could he get a good breath. A feeling of dread now crept it's way in. Just how long would he be like this?
Whisper stopped in front of Zombie then held his arms out to keep everyone else back. "STAY BACK! Don't touch him!"
"Aw fuck! She spiked him!" Blitz said and shook his head then leaned down. "What the fuck did you do?"
Patch came up. "Let me see."
Adonis blocked him. "Nothing you can do, Patch. Any movement, any at all, he dies. Only Immortal can save him and she won't. She went that way, pissed off. She won't come back for him."
"Only Immortal knows the secret. The fucker's done." Getaway said. "None of us can do it. She never taught us how."
Kilo looked over at Whisper. "Does he deserve this?"
"Fuck yes!" Whisper looked down at Zombie in disgust. "YOU'RE DONE!"
Raines looked over. "What did he do?"
Whisper looked then walked over to him. "Something he shouldn't have, SIR!"
For a moment there was absolute silence as the two officers stared at one another then Raines became as angry as the others and went over to Zombie and slapped his head. A loud crack followed and he fell over.
"Patch. Get a bag! Resume evaluation tomorrow at zero-seven." Raines said walking off.
Anna was stunned. "My Donna, did we just see what we saw? Are Lyssa and these men the same as the old Mafia? Have they just literally killed one of their own as part of some test?"
"No Anna Fonticello. He wasn't one of us. Not after what he did." Whisper said walking past. "Fall the fuck out!"
Maria wasn’t shaken in the least, but was confused. This was something that the Chicago mob would do. "I don't understand. What did just happen?"
"That guy got up close and said something to Prima Lyssa, Nonnina. That's when she got really pissed off. I could see he talked, but couldn't hear what he said though." Kristine said.
"It was bad." A soft voice said behind them.
Maria went over. "You are called Noc, correct?"
Noc nodded slowly.
"You heard what he said?" Maria asked.
Noc softly replied. "Hear everything. Hear your hearbeat, right now. Hear her, crying. She's afraid."
Anna and the others looked to where he pointed and saw Mindy hiding over behind a palmetto. Kasey and Kristine immediately ran over to her.
"Anna. Go help with Mindy." Maria said, not taking her eyes of Noc. She suspected that if she did, he would disappear and she wanted an answer.
"Tell me, Noc. Just what happened? What was said to Lyssa to make her so angry?" Maria asked.
Noc's eyes were hidden behind dark lenses, but he finally leaned in close. He had heard the ice hard conviction in Maria DeMarco’s voice mixing with concern for more than just a friend. "Zombie told her that he was going to bring her down, strip her and take her until she gave up her name to him. After that, he was going to slice through her neck to take her head and scalp her. His trophy that he was Immortal, never her. He was going to leave her head in the bed with her babies after killing the SEAL."
Maria looked over as Patch returned with a body-bag and began loading Zombie into it. "Then it is a good thing he did not face one of my daughters. They would not have been as quick with his death, but took their time in carving small pieces from his hide. As with Lyssa, she gave him a quick death. I would have killed him myself for that. I'd have torn his heart from his chest."
"No, you couldn't. You'd be dead before you found it. Only Patch knew where it was. And Whisper. Neither would tell. Not even the Colonel knew. It's not in Zombie's file. I couldn't even hear it." Noc replied and began to walk away. "DemonWraiths can't be made, Lady. We have to be found. He still wasn't one of us, the fuck. Immortal always will be. She; of The Faith. Nobody can kill her unless she wants them to. I won't tell you the rest of what he said to her. But he did die in fear. They always do when Immortal kills them."
Patch zipped the bag closed. "What the hell did she do to him, Blitz?"
"Fuck, what didn't she do, Patch? Immortal nailed him with twenty-seven strikes, several were kill-hits. Counted them myself. Then she spiked his ass. He had maybe ten minutes, at most." Blitz remarked. "Didn't you pay attention to the video of the ship take-down? She used the same technique on that fuck, Holland. It's delayed or instant, whichever she wants. She usually uses it to make them linger a while. Die scared. It's the only time she feels anything from a kill, because they made it personal."
"Excuse me. Blitz, right?" Samantha asked.
Blitz nodded. "Yeah. What's on YOUR minds?"
"The fighting style you all use. Not even I've seen it before. What is it?" Bobby asked.
Adonis shook his head. "You wouldn't have. It is called Evolution. Only Immortal teaches it. She created it and it's unbeatable. Nothing else comes close."
"How many times have you seen Lyssa do that?" Samantha asked.
Adonis' handsome face was like stone. "More than we'd like to have. We all fear that technique. None of us can beat her one-on-one. It takes all of us to bring her down."
Blitz ran his fingers through his short hair and sighed. "Truth? This is the fifth time, in person. With those videos, seven. Every time I've seen her do it, that person brought out true pissed off mad. The last time I saw it, she doesn't even know she did it. We cut her loose and she didn't even know it was me. Her eyes couldn't see shit, but for twelve seconds, they focused with true hatred. She nailed one of the tangos that had her. They'd worked on her, for a week. Beatings, electrical. Hell they even pumped her full of coke, twice. Never broke her. I cut her loose and she saw the guy. Slipped through, faster than I'd ever seen, and took him out. Faster than with Zombie. Then she dropped. No pulse. No heartbeat. Nothing. Just gone. Fucking Whisper completely lost it then, bawling his eyes out, pumping her chest and screaming at her to come back."
Samantha could see the formation of tears in his eyes.
"The fucking Captain, four brothers and even the goddamned DEA guy we went in for. All dead, murdered in front of her, to make her talk. Captain was our doc, stupid fucks killed him first. It was a goddamned slaughterhouse in there. Bodies everywhere. We were all losin' it, but Whisper just wouldn't let go. He stayed on her. Screaming in all our fucking brains for her to come back. She didn't want to. He forced her. She wasn't allowed to die when she wanted, they couldn't kill her when they figured out they'd fucked up. Whisper knew everything, gave us only pieces of what went on. He still wouldn't let her go." Blitz said and wiped his eyes then turned to the other new members. "Get this fuck out of here. You have seen The Means of The Way. Follow The Faith, or be ended by it."
After they all left, Maria joined her daughters.
Annette asked. "What did he mean, 'Whisper was screaming in their brains'?"
"I don't know. What I do know, is that we should return to the hangars and see what is happening now. Or we risk more confusion that will never be explained. Lyssa and these people are becoming more frightening than I first thought." Maria stated.
Chapter 4
They had no sooner reached the hangar, Rodrick came tearing in at full speed. "CLEAR MY GODDAMNED HANGAR!"
Maria had enough time to look up to the office and saw the Colonel, standing at Attention, while Dannigan was yelling at him. Rodrick all but flew up the stairs and kicked in the door, shattering the glass window of it.
"YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Rodrick bellowed and slammed him with a punch.
Pete and Eddie began herding everyone out. "Everybody, OUT! Carl, get the doors."
The doors closed as everyone cleared them and Pete shook his head. "Nobody goes in. I haven't seen Rod that pissed in a LONG time. You guys might need a new Colonel when Rod's done."
Carl suddenly blurted out. "DUDE! Kim and Krystel are, ya know, still in THERE. LoneStar, too!"
Kasey and Kristine came up, with Mindy between them, holding their hands. Anna was following them.
Maria looked over and thought fast. "Girls. This is not a place any of you should be right now. Best that you go to our house with Anna."
Mindy shook her head. "I want to see Aunt Lyssa. I want to know why, Noninna."
"Sweet child, Lyssa is very angry right now. She isn't angry with you and she doesn't want you to think she might be." Maria tried to persuade Mindy.
Mindy shook her head. "Aunt Lyssa will tell me why. She won't lie, she promised."
"I see you won't do otherwise. Girls, take her to Prima Lyssa. Perhaps she has calmed enough." Maria sighed.
Whisper moved over to them and crouched down to Mindy. "My name is Whisper. I'll go with you. Come on."
The four went towards Lyssa and Rodrick's house. At the patio doors, they were met by Warlock. He looked up at Whisper, growled then shook his head and backed away.
"Does Warlock know you, Mister Whisper? He doesn't like strangers." Mindy asked.
Whisper gave a shrug. "Must be my personality. I think she's upstairs. Let's go find out."
As if he had lived there himself, Whisper led them upstairs and stopped in the nursery doorway. Lyssa held one of the twins and looked over at him. Anything she would have said, froze as she noticed the girls. Mindy entered.
"Aunt Lyssa, are you ok?" Mindy asked.
Lyssa slowly sat down in the rocking chair. "Not really Melinda. I'm pretty upset right now. Not at you though. Don't be afraid."
"He's a good looking baby." Whisper said then added. "Oops. I meant she. My bad."
Lyssa was paying attention to Allie, but addressed Whisper. "I'll pretend for a minute you're being honest, so stop doing that."
"Habit. If you want to pretend, ok. I do envy you this though. Truth." Whisper replied.
Lyssa ignored him and looked to Mindy. "You saw what happened out there?"
"Yes Ma'am. It scared me." Mindy admitted.
Whisper nodded. "She still is."
"Knock it off." Lyssa glared at Whisper, took a breath then said. "Mindy, Zombie wasn't my friend. He wasn't my teammate. He hated me. He wanted to do bad things, because he hated me. If I didn't do what I did. He would have tried very hard to do those things until I killed him. I refuse to let that even start. Whisper came with you to make sure I heard him out. He thinks I won't do anything with you here."
"Oh, we both know that isn't true. You'd tear me apart no matter who was with us, off sheer principle. I would like for you to hear me out though. Can I?" Whisper asked.
Lyssa looked down at Allie, she was asleep again. Lyssa stood up gently and put her in the crib with Alex. "Downstairs."
Whisper nodded and followed the girls down to wait in the living room, looking around. He smiled at the portrait over the mantle and the shield on the wall. Whisper wandered about and stopped in front of an empty glass case then looked over to Kasey and Kristine.
"So, there used to a be a sword in here?" Whisper asked.
Kristine nodded. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Guessed. Must have been serious. To keep a sword locked away in a case." Whisper remarked.
Kasey and Kristine remembered the warning. The sword that had been in that case was reputed to be cursed and was not to be touched at all, but they were confused as to how he knew there had been a sword in the case at all. Even the stand that held it, was gone. Lyssa joined them and sat down.
"Please believe me; I had no clue he was going to do that. Once he confronted you out there, that's when I became aware of it all. You did what you had to. We don't blame you and there is no challenge to it. Right now, your C.O. and your husband are probably shredding the Colonel over this. I think the rest of the eval is going to be canceled and someway to b.s. it, so it doesn't apply to you anymore or something like that." Whisper stated.
Lyssa just looked at him. "Uh-huh."
"Look, I tried to talk the Colonel out of this. He ended up ripping into me, he realized I knew you weren't dead the whole time. I mean, yeah, I knew. I just didn't know what you were up to. Blitz knocked the shit out of me for not telling him you were still alive. When we found out who you are now, Adonis laughed. He was pissed, but laughed for everybody else. Called me everything, but my real name. I didn't know what else to do. The colonel found out, told us, saw I didn't lose my shit and got pissed because I never said anything. Then it got ugly." Whisper explained.
"Define: ugly." Lyssa stated.
Whisper grimaced. "He tried to go to General Singleton, the chairman of the Army and the Secretary of the Army; to have you forced back or taken before the Committee. He wanted your boss hung. The only reason he couldn't, was all his shit got intercepted and slammed down. No idea how, but it did. Next thing we knew, he got a call from your boss and ordered to report. Raines may have pull, but not like your boss. No way. He's nuke-proof. The Colonel thought he could pull something with a valid eval. Not happening. I know your boss already has it ordered to go straight to him. It'll be shredded and burned before anybody sees it. I haven't told him that. I won't. He's wrong for trying this. He threw you out, he shouldn't be allowed to force you back. You're happy now. He's going to have to let you go."
"What about the others?" Lyssa asked.
Whisper nodded. "Us too. We talked about it last night. You earned your freedom. We have no right to make any demands. Not even me. We do want to keep in touch though. You're still one of us. We don't want you to come back to us, but we do need you for you. Come down here, hang out. That would be; Being."
"This; is Being. Being at peace." Kasey said.
Kristine finished for her sister. "Being Family."
Whisper smiled at the two teens. "Oh Ye; of The Faith. She has been teaching you two well, The Faith."
“Whisper.” Lyssa pointed at the two teens. “I’m only one of their teachers. Their family lives by a Creed that is as harsh as any we would follow. Their family raise true assassins. Assassins of the highest caliber and with the greatest honor. As for them Being of the Faith. Well, let’s just say they are, but in more than just one. Keep it to yourself though.”
Whisper stared at the two teens intently then chuckled. "Right. No problem."
"Would we ever be one of you?" Kasey asked.
Whisper gave a strange look. "Doubtful. That's something the Colonel wants to find out. The odds are about one in thirty-five million. The Colonel wants you three tested. Hopefully that gets shot down. He'd pull some shit, yeah. But he wouldn't do something illegal."
"Tested?" Mindy asked.
Whisper nodded, but Lyssa answered. "There's a test. If you are positive then you are flagged and eventually are called to selection. DemonWraiths aren't made, Mindy, we're found. A hundred are called to conceal the one wanted. Ninety-nine percent failure rate."
"Your friend Tiffany is as close as it gets to being one of us." Whisper told them. "Shawna runs a distant second and Krystel, the one hiding under the hangar, squeaks in at third."
Kasey and Kristine's mouths dropped open. None of them had ever mentioned anything about the room under the hangar. Nor had Tiffany or Shawna's names been said at all.
"Just between me and you, Whisper. When did you find out I was still alive?" Lyssa asked.
Whisper grinned. "Your funeral. Your boss was there. He didn't know I was. It was easy. Not what I was looking for though. I was hoping to find the asshole that killed you, or ordered it, there. I was going to take them out. I went home happy instead."
The girls were surprised when the big man sat down on the floor, beckoned Mindy closer and said to her. "When you were taken, we got the call, late. We were on the way to come get you. Lucky for you, your new aunt and all them were there to get to you. I interrogated the one that hurt you. He was very bad. If Immortal and the others hadn't got to you when they did, things for you would have been much worse. I won't tell how, but just know; they saved you from a very horrible life. Ok?"
"That's enough Whisper. She doesn't need to know any more." Lyssa said.
Kristine asked the question they all wanted to know. "You all know her name is Lyssa. Why do you all keep calling her Immortal?"
"It's how we know her. None of us know each others real names, well except for me, Patch and the Colonel. Just the call-signs. Sure we have cover names that the world knows us by, that's not our real names. Yes, I know her name. It's the name on the grave of her former self. To me, she is and always will be, the Immortal." Whisper smiled as a tear slipped down his cheek. "Our one and only sister. The one who did what we never could. Avenge our brothers."
The sound of a baby came over the monitor on the side table. Trembler walked in at the same time.
"Hey. Wow, this is cool. They're still going at it. What's that noise?" Trembler asked.
Lyssa got up, followed by the other five. She went up to the nursery, picked up Alex and handed him to Whisper. "Here. Hold Alex."
"Hey there, guy." Whisper smiled then turned serious and passed him to Trembler. "Here you go."
Trembler looked confused as he held the baby up. "Huh? Why me? Uh. Why's he making that face?"
Alex had a look of exertion on his face and made a soft grunting sound then Whisper began to smirk.
The scent hit fast and Trembler glared at his superior. "He didn't?"
"Who better to hand live ordinance to, than an E.O.D. technician?" Whisper chuckled.
Kasey, Kristine and Mindy understood and giggled. Somehow, Whisper had figured out the baby was about to fill his diaper and passed him off before it happened.
Trembler held him at arm's length. "Aw, man! That ain't cool. Gah. What the hell am I supposed to do now? This wasn't covered in my Bio-warfare course. Damn you, Whisper."
Lyssa finished changing Allie and took Alex from the bewildered soldier. "Give him over, cherry."
Within two minutes, the diaper was changed and Alex was babbling to his sister in the crib. Lyssa went into the bathroom and washed her hands then came back out.
"I.E.D.s are fine, hand you a baby and go into a complete brain-fart. You are new." Lyssa remarked.
Trembler pointed. "Hey, that fuck tricked me! He didn't warn me the kid was primed already. I ain't trained for that."
"And I was?" Lyssa asked.
Trembler shrugged. "Well, yeah. Ain't it in your DNA or something? Maternal instinct or whatever they call it? Why are those three laughing?"
Mindy wanted to roll around on the floor, Kristine and Kasey were sorely tempted as well. Whisper was sputtering, trying not to laugh. Finally Lyssa walked over and spoke quietly in his ear and Trembler slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
"I'm beyond stupid. I thought this whole trip down here was because you were the first chick to ever be in the unit. Nobody actually said anything." Trembler said truthfully.
Whisper patted him on the back, still chuckling. "Well, in a way; that is sort of true. She just had the ultimate cover back then. This is the real person now. The Immortal you see, is the version that should have always been. Murphy just wouldn't leave her alone is all."
Anna knocked at the door. "Prima Lyssa. You and these gentlemen are wanted at the hangar. I will sit the babies for you."
"Thank you Anna. They were both just changed, so they should be fine for a while. If you want, you can take them to the living room to play. Warlock will wander back in anytime to check on them." Lyssa said.
Lyssa, Whisper, Trembler and the two teens left for the hangar. Mindy stayed behind with Anna by her own choice. When they arrived at the Main Hangar, they were all directed to the classroom. Everyone was seated. Colonel Raines had a black eye, and bloodied nose. Rodrick still glared at him with the look of 'one more word and I'll kill your ass" on his face.
Dannigan waved them in. "Find a seat. This evaluation nonsense is over. You men will be leaving tonight. If you all have anything official to say, now's the time."
"I have a question." Maria said then asked. "Just how is this incident going to be explained?"
"Training accident." Blitz replied. "It's not the first, won't be the last."
Drift looked over to Maria. "Ma'am. It may seem over the line for you, but it is what it is for us. We all came into the unit knowing even the training itself can kill us. Zombie was the only one to think otherwise. This is just me talking, but it was only a matter of time before he bought it. Actually, I thought he'd go out in a messier manner."
"Yeah. I saw and still have a hard time believing it. Immortal, I don't know what he did and hope I never piss you off." Clean remarked.
Several others nodded in agreement.
Patch stood up. "He's done now, so I guess there's no harm in giving some information about him. Zombie was unique. He was actually born with a decentralized heart. All four chambers were in different locations. That's why he was hard to bring down. That's what brought him to the attention of Colonel Raines. After closer examination, he was determined to be a possible candidate and invited to selection. He passed and was brought in."
"I'm starting to think that there is some sort of genetic matter that determines something here. Is that the case or no?" Maria asked.
Patch sighed. "There is. Are you familiar with the Fight or Flight response?"
"Si. A person is in a situation where they must react and adrenaline is released in high amount. I am correct?" Maria guessed.
Patch nodded. "Yes Ma'am. That applies to all, but one in thirty-five million people. That very rare few, do not do that. They produce something else. They produce Vionomine. That hormone slows down the organ functions while still elevating synaptic event and inhibiting pain receptors. In short, they move as fast as an Olympic athlete, but with clarity, heightened awareness and strength. This can not be synthesized in a lab. Only certain people produce it and process it. If we tried to make it and were successful, unless you make it naturally, your body would reject it. To try forcing it, would be fatal."
"So it's like a berzerker mode?" Samantha asked.
Patch shook his head. "No. Berzerkers were out of control. DemonWraiths are in complete control of all their faculties."
"So that explains why Blitz is so fast." Hunter said.
Blitz shook his head. "Not really. Sure I make the stuff, but no more than the rest. Immortal actually makes more than any of us. Compared to us, her system can become super-saturated with it."
"Blitz is fast because his nervous system is genetically jump-wired. I can go as fast and a little faster, but not as long as he can. If he can wear me down, he can win." Lyssa added.
"Bitch cheats." Blitz commented.
Lyssa harumphed. "Whiney loser."
Whisper called them both down amid snickers. "Alright, you two."
"Done? Good." Patch said then turned to Maria. "I'm now 'at liberty' to tell you this. I was supposed to examine all personnel here, yes. But for the three girls, I was also supposed to take samples to test if they produce the hormone. That has been counter-manded by your C.O. I will perform physicals, yes. But no samples will be taken. Know this, if any of them ever enlist, they will be flagged for testing and all bets are off. That's it."
At the back of the room the two teens just smiled as Kasey snarked. “Like that’ll ever happen. We’re DeMarcos and Capezios, we uphold OUR family traditions.”
Dannigan got their attention. "That's all for now. Get some chow. DemonWraiths return here and you can watch those training videos and then you secure your equipment for departure later tonight. That is all."
The newer members hung around the hangars, talking with Bobby, Hunter and their wives. Whisper, Blitz, Noc, Adonis, Getaway and Kilo followed Lyssa back to her house. The noise inside got their attention. Walking in from the patio doors, they found a scene that was almost comical. Warlock sat howling and the two babies seemed to be doing their best to imitate.
Anna stood there with her hands over her ears, as did Mindy. "They won't stop!"
Lyssa looked at them then called out. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF BOB BLACK-GLOVES MOUNTEL IS THIS? WARLOCK, ACHTUNG!"
The Belgian shepherd immediately went silent and stood up on all fours, tail down, ears forward.
Both babies called out loudly. "AH!" "WOOO!"
"Secure that insubordination." Lyssa remarked then looked to Warlock and pointed out the door. "Aus, Patrouille! SCHNELL!"
Warlock pelted outside to carry out the orders. Lyssa went over and picked up both babies and set them in the playpen.
"You two; confined to quarters until further notice." Lyssa informed them, only to hear Alex sputter at her and Allie coo.
Getaway muttered. "Takes away all doubts about her not being a chick."
"Motherhood truly does suit you." Adonis chuckled.
Mindy brought over two bottles and the twins quickly latched onto them, smiling for her.
"Prima Lyssa. It was beyond understanding. First the twins began calling out and then Warlock started howling. It seemed like they were egging each other on and getting louder each time." Anna stated.
Lyssa shook her head. "It's alright Anna. Those three do things all the time I have no clue as to why. Why don't you go on and head back home. Mindy, I'm sure your mother is looking for you."
"Ok." Mindy ran off and Anna followed behind.
"SNAFU." Lyssa sighed. "Let's eat and figure out the rest from there."
Rodrick came in and found the seven of them working in the kitchen. Soon dinner was ready and they all sat down. They shared stories, as did Rodrick and Lyssa, of fun and embarassing moments. After dinner they cleaned up and watched Lyssa feed the twins then put them to bed. Just as the sun was setting, the seven went out onto the patio. Each had a glass in hand. After a long silence, they touched their glasses in salute and drank.
"Time to go, guys." Whisper said.
One by one they each hugged Lyssa and shook Rodrick's hand then made their way back to the hangars until only Whisper and Noc remained.
"You had nothing to worry about after all." Whisper said then smiled. "You did turn out to be pretty in the end. Don't be a stranger. Come play. I'll send your racing Load-Out to you, now that I know where. It's just like you left it."
Rodrick looked to Lyssa. "Racing Load-Out?"
Whisper laughed. "She held that back. Her and Blitz used to battle it out on Isle Of Man. If their bikes were race legal, they'd own the Senior Circuit. See you on the road next year!"
"Guess I better get fitted for new leathers now." Lyssa remarked. "How do you think I'll look in white with pink side-stripes?"
"Like the hottest thing on the road. I guess we're forming a racing team?" Rodrick asked.
Lyssa laughed. "A fake one. Just like theirs. It's a chunk of change, but fun as hell. Besides, it's only once a year, why not? I'll ask Maria if she wants to pretend to be a sponsor, she'll get a kick out of it."
Rodrick finally smiled. "Yeah. Why not? I think Eddie knows about bikes. He can fix damn near anything else."
"Then we'll see you there." Whisper said then directed to Rodrick. "Thank you Rodrick Mason. We entrust our sister to you. Officially, this is where we never cross paths again."
Rodrick smirked. "And un-officially?"
Noc handed him a card. "We'll ask to hang out down here. But if all hope is ever lost; call. Help will come. This goes both ways. If we need you, we'll call."
"Sounds fine by me." Rodrick pocketed the card and was surprised when Noc offered a handshake which was returned.
Whisper turned and left. "Have fun!"
Lyssa smiled as Noc took two steps back and practically vanished into the shadows. "He never changes. Until Next time, brothers."
When the C-17 passed over them, heading North, Lyssa knew she would see them again. After all; she was their only sister.
"Not many left in me, Baby. I have to leave the Field soon." Lyssa confided.
Rodrick hugged her tight. "You sure?"
Lyssa nodded. "Whisper told me. He gave me a number. I can still train though."
"Ok. Make sure we save at least one for a rainy day." Rodrick suggested.
Together they went inside.
Chapter 5
The next evening Maria went over to Lyssa and Rrodrick's house after dinner. Kasey and Kristine followed. After entering, Rodrick nodded in the direction of the studio. He was silent due to holding the twins.
Maria stopped in the doorway, as did the teens. The studio was dark and silent, except for the circle of candles on the floor and one long taper-candle in the center. Lyssa was slowly performing a close-pointe dance, barely avoiding the flame.
"Nonnina. What is this?" Kristine whispered.
Maria controlled her shock and warned them. "Never do this! It is very dangerous. One wrong move; your tights will ignite, followed by your clothing and you will burn horribly. Only Olga teaches this. It is a banned exercise. I will not practice or teach it. Olga was the last known Russian to master it. It is part of why she is called the 'Iron Doll'. We were friendly rivals back in our younger days. Now I understand how Lyssa can have such intensity and precision."
Slowly Lyssa turned on her right toe-box and stared at them, an almost dream-like expression on her face. "I do not teach this or perform it publicly. Not even Katya can Dance the Flames. Only Tiffany will learn it and be the last."
Lyssa carefully stepped over the ring of candles en-pointe then rested. After taking off her toe-shoes and tights; she grabbed her tights, opened the outer door and held them to a candle. The tights practically flashed and were consumed in flame, forcing her to drop them on the flagstones outside.
"So, what brings you over?" Lyssa asked.
Maria sighed then gathered herself. "The racing team you asked me about. Were you serious?"
"It's not a real racing team. Just a name. You get your company logo on the bike and my leathers, walk around and pretend to be a sponsor like Rodrick will be. Unlike a real team, you don't actually invest money. Annettte, Sam, Kasey and Kristine dress up in something eye-catching and play like they are Paddock Girls. You get to meet some racing bigwigs and maybe a corporate muckity-muck or two. The guys pretend to be crew. Myself and Eddie do all the actual work on my bikes." Lyssa explained.
Kasey was thinking about it. "Sounds like fun. All we do is walk around and look pretty?"
"Yeah. Oh and a couple of you hold an umbrella over me before I start and one of you gets to stand outside the gate and pose cute." Lyssa chuckled.
Maria was considering it now. "But you're not officially in the actual race. What's the purpose?"
Lyssa laughed. "It's just for fun. The guys go every year. I used to go too. Blitz and I are tied."
"I guess I could go along with it. Sounds harmless enough." Maria remarked.
Lyssa grinned. "Harmless? Oh sure. Welcome aboard Butterfly Racing Innovations. We debut at Isle of Man."
Book 46 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
The DemonWraiths' final test: Kill Zone Lyssa ventured deep into Africa before and returned Now she must go back to the Bloodfields, but with more on the line than just herself this time. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Chapter 1
"We're about to depressurize. Standby. Three minutes to DZ. Depressurizing."
Lyssa stood up in the Bomb-Bay of the B-2 Spirit, snapped the mask in place and breathed in deep as the air turned icy cold. That feeling was all too familiar. The old set of Tiger Stripe BDUs did feel alien. It had been a very long time since they had been worn. The jungle boots as well. However, her usual one-piece black battlesuit and knee high boots would not benefit her this time. Her weapons harness, yes, but no tactical or ballistic vest. She would be absolutely vulnerable. Just as she had been the last time she was in this part of Africa. Once again, the Immortal would stalk the Bloodfields. Alone, just as the first time, she would be alone. No team of DemonWraiths. No Rodrick. No Tiffany. Not even Lonestar orbiting overhead in a gunship or commanding drones. No one. Only her.
"One minute. Standby."
Lyssa took a slow deep breath. "Throw open the gates and clear the throne. Here I come, Hell. I'm on my way."
"Deploying; Drop. Drop. Drop."
Lyssa leaned forward and fell out the bomb-bay. Forty-two-thousand feet high to jump and she pulled her chute at thirty-eight-thousand feet. High Altitude, High Opening. The HAHO jump allowed the jumper to travel thirty miles or more to a Landing Zone. For this jump, she would be pushing to sixty-five miles. Her goal was deep into denied territory. The night was dark and she had to rely on a commercial GPS unit taped to her wrist. The GPS was Japanese, uniform was Thai, boots from China and parachute from Germany. The only thing American; was her. Instead of the twin updated Desert Eagle Jerico in .40 caliber, she carried twin original issue Jerico 941s, currently chambering .41AE custom load ammunition. Werewolf rounds. She also carried the spare barrels and recoil springs to convert them to 9mm.
Lyssa gently touched down in a clearing only thirty meters wide. According to her watch, she had twenty minutes left of darkness. As fast as she could, a hole was scraped out using her knife and boot. The chute was stuffed down into it, along with the GPS unit and a small bag of thermite was sprinkled over it all then lit. Within seconds the canopy, risers, pack and harness turned to ashes. The dirt was dragged over and stamped down to smother the fire. Lyssa moved out, drinking from one of the three metal canteens along the back of her waistbelt. She put the canteen away then felt her right shoulder strap and the only luxury she had; a Russian incendiary grenade. It was there as a last resort to eliminate her identity. In case of complete operational failure she needed only to pull the pin, flip off the safety lever and hold it overhead. The grenade would ignite and explode, enveloping her in the burning three thousand degree Thermate. In short, in a flash, she would be melted to death and anonymity.
"Hello Burkina Faso, did you enjoy my absence? Time for you to relearn fear." Lyssa muttered to herself.
Every fifteen minutes she consulted the compass and map she carried, both were French. With such an erratic collection of equipment, there was absolutely no way she could be determined as American, only that she was not African of any origin. She carefully approached a clearing five kilometers from where she had landed. Slowly Lyssa circled around the perimeter until she found a Caucasian man sitting with his back to a tree, watching the clearing.
"Bonjour, avez-vous attendu longtemps?" Lyssa asked softly.
The man almost jumped straight up into the branches, but held back his scream.
Doing his best to calm down, he replied. "I speak English."
"Convenient. I don't have time to waste. Where are they?" Lyssa asked.
"I am Franco." The man said to the woman, who's face was swirled with two-tone green, black and brown.
Lyssa glared. "You're wasting my time. Where are they?"
Franco now understood this was not someone charms could be applied on and answered. "They are forty kilometers to the East, in Bohbi's encampment."
"Colonel Endigawa Bohbi?" Lyssa asked.
Franco nodded. "Yes. You know him?"
"Never met. How many does he have?" Lyssa asked.
Franco sighed. "Over four hundred. Almost five hundred. How many do you bring?"
Lyssa brought out her map and opened it then marked a point on it. "We are here. Show me where he is."
Franco looked at the map then pointed to a spot. "Here."
Lyssa marked the location with a pen. "Forty clicks? Looks more like fifty."
"Forty directly. We cannot go directly. It will become a little over fifty." Franco admitted.
Lyssa regarded the map then asked. "This road. Is it mined or patrolled?"
"It is patrolled. Bohbi's men. They can be avoided." Franco answered.
Lyssa watched him answer. She noticed the slight shift of eyes to the left. He was lying.
"Why can't I go directly?" Lyssa asked.
Franco traced a line with his finger on the map. "Here. A gorge, it is deep and wide. You must go around. The road goes around. Three days on foot. I will go with you. I know the patrols."
"I go alone." Lyssa said then moved back into the bush. "Do not follow me."
Lyssa only went a hundred feet and tucked into some underbrush, brushing away her prints. Franco crept along a few minutes later. He passed her hiding spot and circled back twice.
"Merde!" Franco hissed then moved on.
She waited another ten minutes then slithered away, deeper into the foliage. When she could finally stand up, she changed direction.
"All I needed was the player and base." Lyssa whispered to herself.
She set out on a straight route, the gorge. There was no doubt it was there. Also that it was wide and deep. None of that was in question. The map indicated so. She could negotiate it though. Though her equipment was the bare minimum, there were a few things in the pack no one expected. Especially the means to negotiate the gorge and cut an entire day off her travel time.
The news of Colonel Bohbi was disturbing. Twelve years ago; he'd been a mere captain and bloodthirsty. Only by pure luck he had been out of her path. He lost two hundred of his men that had been raiding villages in preparation for a coup. It seemed he was still overly ambitious. Lyssa's Kill-zone had taken her through the part of the country he had been using. The word then was that he was simply running a guerrilla force. She had discovered otherwise.
Guerrillas forces were common in west Africa. Usually more a collection of psychotics and murderers than militia. Mostly such groups roamed across borders pursuing blood diamonds, trafficking in anything of value and slaughtering. Something moved in the litter ahead. Lyssa reached into the pack and pulled the oddest item inside. A modified cloth pillowcase. Slowly and carefully, she advanced. When she closed to five feet away, it took notice and reared up. The thin grey snake was obvious. A Black Mamba. They were very aggressive when near their lair. It flared its mock-hood as Lyssa crouched lower and turned to the side slightly. Suddenly she flinched and blew out a deep breath she'd held for a moment. The viper lunged to strike. Lyssa was faster and caught it, slapped its head to the ground and pinned it with her boot.
"Hello, devil. I need your company, for a while." Lyssa said.
The snake was carefully forced into the pillowcase and tied off in two sections. It was a snake bag, reinforced to resist fangs. The bottom had a border large enough to hold the end, along with two grommet holes to slide onto a rod or stick. She tucked the bagged snake into her pack and continued on, feeling it thrash and strike.
Lyssa slapped at it. "Get meaner, I plan on introducing you to somebody that really earned your visit."
The sun set and she slowed down, checking her vector more frequently. An hour later she reached the edge of the gorge. Lyssa reached into the pack again. A small box was taken out and opened. Inside were a set of ashiko and kaginawa. Japanese climbing cleats for hands and feet. She strapped them on after putting the box back into the pack. Carefully Lyssa descended the rough rock side. The route down was difficult as the lack of light or visual imagery forced her to go by feel. The tungsten carbide teeth clung to the rock. Eighty-two feet to the bottom was a long way down. Rappelling down would be faster and safer, but she hadn't brought any rope, just a one-hundred foot length of 550 para-cord. Two hours later her feet touched bottom.
Lyssa waded across the hip deep creek then sat down to lean back against the side. "Finally."
While resting, she used a water bladder with a filter attached to refill her canteens with water then dropped in a tablet each. Thirty minutes to purify the water would give her enough time to rest before starting the ascent out of the gorge. The bladder was refilled and the water was filtered into a separate bladder and tablets added. It was a stronger grade of bladder that she could hang on her back. Ten liters of water. Every drop of safe water was critical. Unprocessed water in Africa was deadly. Finally she faced the side of the gorge and reached up. The ashiko dug into the rock with her weight and she began climbing out.
"The clock does tick. It's never my ally." Lyssa grunted as she climbed.
The ascent took less time than the descent. A hour and twenty minutes later Lyssa dragged herself over the edge. Half the night was gone. She moved on, putting the climbing gear away then drinking from a canteen. Two drinks, one to quench thirst and the other to hold in her mouth. The only light came from the stars, it was enough for her. Lyssa increased her pace to the airborne shuffle, it ate miles. An hour of running, five minutes of rest. The remainder of night passed as did the distance.
During the rest-stops Lyssa reapplied insect repellent. It was a mix of lemongrass, clove and three other oils that barely had scent to them. The uniform had been treated with chemicals during the flight, but skin was another matter. Sweat washed the oils away, requiring reapplication. The morning came, bringing heat. The temperature rose, but on she went. Time was essential, she had to make it to Bohbi's encampment by dusk.
Washington, D.C.
"Is this Asset up to the task, Senator?" A British man asked.
Jason Wesley nodded. "Absolutely. Though, I wouldn't say they are an Asset. Operative would be a poor descriptive as well. Let's just say, this individual isn't pigeon-holed so well. Also that they have a very particular experience with the area of operation, Sir Thomas."
"Please, just Thomas will do. The gravity of this situation sets aside formalities." Thomas Addington replied.
"Jason, please. I think we should bring in just one more person." Senator Wesley said then spoke into the intercom. "Send in Major Dannigan now."
Dannigan entered the room and nodded to everyone. "Ladies, gentlemen."
"Major, this is.." Jason Wesley began to introduce.
Dannigan had focused on the stranger from the moment he'd walked in. "Sir Thomas Addington; Under-Secretary to the Chairman, Her Majesty's Joint Intelligence Committee. A pleasure, Sir Thomas."
Sir Thomas nodded back. "Likewise, Major. I'm afraid not much of your reputation precedes you. I believe your good senator has called you in to bolster confidence in our current dilemma."
"More like; debacle. This is a damned mess." Dannigan growled.
Senator Williams shook her head. "I'd use more colorful descriptives."
"We'd all like different things on this. However, our hands are tied good." Senator Eisenbahn admitted.
Sir Thomas sighed. "It is regrettable. I do have some resources that would be up to the task, but our hands are tied as well, leaving only outsiders to be the option."
"An outsider I have access to." Dannigan said. "And in the interest of keeping things as quiet as possible, is now in country. This outsider comes with a price. Are we in agreement?"
Jason Wesley nodded. "Yes, Major."
"Indeed. What will this be costing Her Majesty's service?" Sir Thomas asked.
Dannigan concealed taking a deep breath by leaning forward. "For the Crown; there is a certain low-level asset that has gained attention. Negative attention. Give me complete access to the future disposition of that Asset. This will benefit you in the long run."
"Which Asset?" Sir Thomas asked warily.
Dannigan handed over a file.
Sir Thomas Addington read the file, winced and looked up. "Negative attention indeed. You wish to transfer this Asset into your service and take FULL responsibility?"
"Yes, but still remain in place and the good graces of current supervision." The big Spook replied. "Colonel Sean MacTaggart's supervision."
"I'm fairly certain I can work that out. Allow me a quick call." Sir Thomas answered and after getting a nod, stepped out of the SCIF.
Charlotte Peterson asked. "And the U.S.?"
"The U.S. Marshal Black Badge team has been undertaking a situation that could have many political ramifications. Fall-out by the metric-shitload." Dannigan told them.
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Please don't tell us that whole Abrams fiasco!" Senator Bryan Delany groaned.
Dannigan sighed. "The same."
Jason Wesley called them all down. "Settle down. Yes, we know that team is actually under your command. That operation has turned into a complete nightmare. The question now is: what exactly do you want?"
Dannigan was direct. "Allow it to play out. I've contained operations to adhere to U.S. Policy, but there will be one catch. An incursion into Vatican city. Let it go. It needs to go this way to finish out and seal all breaches."
"You really know when to go for the jugular, Major. We're over the barrel." Senator Peterson commented.
Jack Eisenbahn snarled. "Dispense with the charades already. So be it, Major. You have approval, but rein in those damn Black Badges. They're making messes that are getting harder and harder to ignore."
"They'll calm down." Dannigan assured.
Sir Thomas re-entered the SCIF and looked to Dannigan. "We have an agreement. Tamara Smart will be affiliated to your organization, Major."
"Operational Designator: Steel Butterfly. On-Mission as we speak. This is not the first time they have been in that region. This mission will not fail. Even with the current compromise." Dannigan said.
Wesley looked surprised. "Compromise? How?"
Dannigan opened a file and held up a photo. "Franco Jeanvier. Local Fixer. Hired by Asclepius, our collection of wayward and extremely naive physicians, sold them down the river."
"Damn it all to Hell!" Sir Thomaas swore.
"Oh, it gets worse." Dannigan said, then held up a second photo. "Doctor Jazmina Fahrouk. Not really. Actually her name is Jahmira Zahmed, of MOIS. Ministry of Intelligence of the Islamic Republic of Iran."
"SHIT!" The Assembly shouted out collectively.
Dannigan nodded. "That's right. Her specialty is making contact with existing militia groups and 'improving their capabilities'. In short, she turns nuisances into terrorists."
"Please tell us Steel Butterfly is aware of this!" Jason Wesley demanded.
Dannigan smiled. "Affirmative. Now. Time, to deal."
"For the love of God, what more?" Senator Delany hissed.
Dannigan stood at the end of the table and leaned to it. "This is it. No more. Steel Butterfly does no more. For anybody. Full retirement."
"Done." Jason Wesley said, then had to hold up a hand to silence the rest of the committee. "Bring them out, dispose of the traitor and insurgent, lay waste to the nuisance, all while remaining unidentified to the group and Steel Butterfly is released."
"Then we're all understood. Sir Thomas, I'll work out the details with Colonel MacTaggart directly. Ladies, gentlemen; I'll notify you at conclusion of the operation." Dannigan said then turned to the monitor and nodded to the aide.
Kimberly appeared on screen. "Sir."
"All approved Captain, await contact from Steel Butterfly. Maintain lock-down." Dannigan ordered.
Kimberly saluted. "Yes Sir. Out."
The screen went back to the map of West Africa and Dannigan walked out. "Good evening."
In the hall, Dannigan muttered to himself. "Ok Lyssa. This one is for all marbles. The actual freedom you fight for this time; is your own."
Lyssa stood looking through binoculars at the encampment eight hundred meters away. The sun was setting behind her, preventing any reflection from the lenses.
"Well; aren't you all fancy now?" Lyssa remarked in disgust. "Evil psychotic son of a bitch. Be here this time or I'll chase you all over Hell's Creation, Bohbi. If War be an art, I will create a masterpiece of legend."
Lyssa moved into the brush, heading for a well used trail she had found and collecting some leaves and plant stems along the way. Three hundred meters out, she began working on traps. First was a Malaysian Man-Catcher. Twenty feet farther, a swing log and punji trench. Then came a lateral spear trap. Next a dead-fall. A spinning foot shredder came after that, followed by a drop grate. Five slap-poles were in a horizontal line across the trail. Each stake and spike were coated with a mix of the ground leaves and plant stems. The leaves held a compound that inflamed wounds and the plant stems contained an anti-coagulant. In short, the wounds would be excruciating and bleed profusely. On top of it all, the mixture had no scent.
"I hope Ho Chi Mihn is rolling in his grave, the bastard." Lyssa snarled.
She wiped out her prints then went back to place them where she needed then took her boots off, leaving prints in socked feet and barefoot. Finally she set the triggers and approached the encampment. Slowly and carefully, she circled the camp. Finally she saw a hut with a cage like door and two guards. She used the binoculars to look inside. Just enough light filtered in to count occupants.
"Seven." Lyssa whispered to herself. "Four Brits and three Americans. Now where could our snake in the grass be?"
The eighth member was not in the hooch. This was not good. Suddenly a commotion came from the road access. She swung the binoculars around and looked. A open-top Range Rover was being waved in. The sight of the occupant made her snarl.
"Wondered when you'd get around to showing up, Franco." Lyssa hissed.
She tracked him visually to a large hooch off the ground, with a porch the width of the face of the structure. Lyssa remained perfectly still when the doorway filled with the form of Endigawa Bohbi. Lyssa slowly breathed. He was on-site. This was the best news she could hope to get. However, now was not the time to dwell on circumstance. It was time to move. Move she did.
Lyssa cut the bindings of the crude fence close to the holding-hooch. She slithered through the gap and made it very obvious, going in and out several times. Then she circled around the Holding-Hooch then found one that had only two men sleeping in it. There was bedding inside for only the two. Silent as a shadow, Lyssa crept inside. She pressed her fingers lightly to the side of the closer man's neck then more firmly. A minute later his eyes flared and he tried to move, but it was no good. Her grip was unshakable and he was essentially making his last effort. His brain, deprived of blood for too long as it was, wasn't able to clearly force his body to react. He slumped and stopped shaking. The whole event sounded no more than a restless sleeper seeking a comfortable position. The second man went in the same manner. A quick search of their pockets produced a bag of tobacco and stained rolling papers. Another pocket yielded a box of matches.
"Clear." Lyssa whispered to herself then concealed the bodies under the crude cots.
Next she skulked to the far side of the camp. A quick stop allowed the procurement of a glass bottle and another pause gave the chance to fill it with gasoline. Slowly Lyssa poured a line of the fuel around the base of the hooch. Though Lyssa never took up the habit of smoking, she was able to roughly roll a cigarette. She lit it and tucked it into the box of matches then lodged it to the wall where the gasoline was. The timer was now set. She had four minutes. Lyssa knew how to make each one count.
Lyssa ran to the Holding-Hooch. A kick to the head snapped the neck of the first and landing with follow through chop to the throat smashed the other's larynx. Before he could even raise hiss rifle, Lyssa was behind him and savagely twisted and bend his head backwards to break his vertebrae and use the pieces to slash the spinal cord. They were down, without alerting anyone. Lyssa didn't bother with looking for keys, she was able to pop the wire holding the bars of the cage door together.
"Qui êtes vous?" A female voice asked in a British accent.
Lyssa whispered back in French. "I'm here to help. Stay silent and follow me. Drag that mat behind the last person."
They filed out, a man held a sleeping mat of grass and dragged it behind them. They were puzzled when their leader directed them to away from the edge of camp, further inside it. Inside another hut, she had them climb up into the ceiling supports and looked up.
"No matter what you hear or see, stay where you are. No movement, no sound. Nothing. Become the roof, the air." Lyssa ordered in French again then all but flew from the hut.
Lyssa focused her thoughts on herself then felt the surge. Two deep breaths was all the time she needed. She felt her body catch fire within and ran. She ran towards the few vehicles there. Three stood nearby; they were supposed to be guarding, but under the impression nobody would ever be an actual threat. That mentality was their undoing. She launched herself at the farthest one, driving her fist deep at the crest of his solarplexus, eliciting a snap. The first was silenced and now slowly dying. Lyssa spun, dipping her upper-body low, braced with her right hand to launch her left leg up and spinning around to connect under the man on the right's jaw. He flew back instantly from the exchange of sheer momentum. She let the energy continue to bring her around and launch into a back wheel-kick that shattered the last man's jaw. Finally the Marauder filled her right fist and was thrust into his neck at a downward angle. The blood from his jugular was directed down his windpipe to fill his lungs. Pain and fear froze him in place as the stream of blood silenced and drowned him.
Lyssa grabbed the first man and heaved him into the driver's set of the Range Rover. His boot laces were used to hold his hands to the wheel. The second man, rendered unconscious was set in the passenger seat, holding a grenade from his belt behind his butt after the pin was pulled. Suddenly raised voices could be heard. Time had run out. Lyssa started the engine, shifted into gear and forced the driver's leg down to floor the accelerator then dove away. The Range Rover of dead men roared away toward the entry. The four sentries dove out of its way just in time then began shooting at it in anger.
Shouting could now be heard, splitting attention. Lyssa moved quickly through the shadows of the hut and hooches, back toward the shack. Endigawa Bohbi came out, buttoning his pants, followed by Franco. Some men were pointing at Franco then the gate, others were pointing toward a brightening light and shouting louder.
"Go after them!" Bohbi ordered Franco then waved to his men. "COME!"
Groups of men peeled to follow one or the other. Franco jumped into a jeep, followed by three men and another six loaded into a truck. Bohbi led his group of men towards a fire that was now growing beyond just one hut. Three others had caught fire as well.
"Thank you." Lyssa muttered and took position below a window.
She reached into her pack and took of the snake-bag and slapped it twice. The Mamba inside became extremely angry, striking at the bag and hissing. Lyssa eased up and peered inside. Her target sat naked on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette. Lyssa eased up and inside then untied the bag. She held the looped over opening and bottom of the bag. Four silent steps forward and laid the bag on the opposite edge of the bed then released the looped top. A light tap was all it took. The enraged viper lunged out and focused on the only living thing presented. Lyssa withdrew two steps as the Mamba streaked forward and stuck.
Jahmira felt something hit her back hard then a sharp pain, followed by two more and turned around in shock. Her world instantly fell apart to see what occupied the bed with her. The grey snake was the one thing she had never hoped to encounter.
"MAMBA!" Jahmira gasped, not wanting to scream and agitate it even more.
Still angry, the serpent reared and flared its mock-hood then lunged again. The Iranian was frozen in horror and felt its fangs sink into her thigh this time. Her right inner thigh. One of the fangs penetrated deep enough to hit saphenous vein. The great saphenous vein. Venom was now racing to her heart. Jahmira knew more than one thing for certain. First; venom of the Black Mamba was a neurotoxin. It attack nerves first and she was already feeling the tell-tale tingling sensation at her back. Secondly; Mamba bites were the deadliest in Africa when untreated. Thirdly, and most critically; the only anti-venin for Mamba bites was at least two hundred kilometers away. Not even half an hour before she succumbed to the venom. A painful half hour at that.
Jahmira picked up a pistol from the table and checked the load. A round sat in the chamber, ready. The safety was disengaged and hammer thumbed back. She turned the muzzle upward under her chin and closed her eyes.
"I accept your judgement for my sins, Allah." Jahmira whispered and pulled the trigger.
Lyssa heard the report of a pistol, but moved at full speed unconcerned. She focused on the threats in front of her, attacking from behind. The main objective; remove as many as possible, before they understood the enemy was still among them. Stealth was just as critical as speed. Grab the target, neutralize the target, discard the target. Closing in of the fires, she had taken out sixty of the guerrillas. Now she was at the edge of their cluster. To continue on, she would be exposed. Time to let them know the enemy was there. Lyssa pulled two grenades from a body then freed them of the safety pins.
A yell went out, drawing the men's attention. Several began to move in the direction of the shout. That was when an explosion went off within a group, followed by another behind them. A rifle began to fire and several dropped in screams. Others saw where the auto-fire had come from and turned their own rifles and returned the fire.
Endigawa Bohbi didn't understand, why were his own men now shooting at each other. Also, it sounded like someone had called out about the prisoners.
"STOP! STOP SHOOTING YOU FOOLS!" Bohbi bellowed then fired his pistol into the air, trying to get their attention.
Lyssa found four more grenades and pitched them in both directions after pulling the pins. As they detonated, she used another rifle to restart the crossfire then emptied the last rounds towards Bohbi. That enraged him and he returned fire in the direction, making the men fire at him. The encampment was in total chaos now. No one cared who was friend or foe, it was every man for himself. One man began to call out to assume some type of authority, only to find himself riddled with bullets. Suddenly grenades went off over their heads three times in succession, followed by numerous screams.
Bohbi saw his Captain fall under a hail of fire then grenades over the heads of the group by the burning huts. Again he yelled to regain command only to find himself under fire.
"STOP SHOOTING YOU FOOLS! YOU ARE KILLING EACH OTHER!" Bohbi yelled again.
Several finally heard and stopped shooting, raising their rifles in compliance. Others saw this and reciprocated.
"THE GUARDS ARE DEAD! PRISONERS ARE GONE!"
Bohbi heard and commanded. "WE HAVE BEEN TRICKED! FIND THE PRISONERS! NOW!"
Lyssa had already withdrawn after the grenades, circled around toward the holding-hooch and let loose with a full magazine of an AK-47, tossed it into a hut and hid in another. The guerrillas went for her bait and rushed in the direction of the hostile fire. She had been a single focus thought, among a whole bunch of misguided intentions. A conductor, giving snippets of conflicting musical pieces to separate sections of scattered orchestras. War was mayhem, but it could be directed. To do so required understanding. Multi-dimensional thinking and action. Most combatants fought only on two dimensions, like pieces on a game-board. They moved forward, pulled back or went laterally from side to side. Advance, retreat and flanking. Archaic battle tactics and strategies. Two-dimensional thinking. Even Special Forces were guilty of it periodically. C.A.G., Combat Applications Group, made efforts to break that habit. DemonWraiths always fought in multiple-dimensions.
Lyssa watched them hit the fence, discovering the opening immediately and forced their way through. They saw the trail and charged down it, yelling in anger. Lyssa went back to the dead and retrieved grenades and rifles. At the mouth of the trail she set up the grenades with trip-lines. Rifles were mounted to tree trunks, branches and also rigged with tripwires to weights. Finally she collected canteens and filled them then went to the freed prisoners.
"Come down. We have to hurry." Lyssa ordered them in French.
At the entry, they watched her mount four rifles, pointing inward and out, rigged with a tripwire and weights then followed her out. Despite all the close-quarter kills, Lyssa had only bloodied her hands. Easy to rinse off with water before they left, Lyssa was clean. Most wouldn't have bothered, but running around in the bush smelling of blood was incredibly stupid. Every creature knew the scent. Insect, animal and human would pick up the scent of blood and follow it to the source. Contain blood within body cavities or let it soak into the ground if you must, but keep it away from yourself at all costs.
"We won't stay on the road long, so don't slow down." Lyssa said to them, staying with French.
One of the women asked in American-accented French. "One of us is not here. We have to go back for her."
Lyssa replied. "The Iranian is dead. She was not your friend."
The road went East. The booby-trapped trail went North. After almost two hundred yards, she led the group off the road and sanitized their passing. They were now heading south. She showed one of the men how to clean the tracks in a non-obvious manner then took point. When they heard explosions and rifle fire, Lyssa urged them on.
"Bohbi and his men returned to the camp. Being a proper hostess; I ensured an appropriate welcome." Lyssa snarled.
A quietly as she could make them, Lyssa led them on. She guided them deep into the bush, avoiding worn trails. Every ten minutes, map and compass were consulted to maintain direction. South, always South. She had come in from the West, laying false trails North and East. After two hours of steady walking, she let them take a few minutes of rest.
"Excuse me." A Female British doctor said to Lyssa in French.
Lyssa nodded to her.
The doctor went on. "We hired a local man. Do you know what happened to him?"
"Franco. He works for Bohbi. You were set up from the start." Lyssa answered then turned at the sound of distant rifle fire. "And now he has been set up."
"I cannot believe this." An American man said then at her look of confusion, repeated in French.
Lyssa nodded and replied in French. "You are a fool, this is why you feel like one now. There was a movie with your Chuck Norris. He is searching for Ninja, his brother was teaching the ways. A money-man tells him; My friend, a word of advice. Before you go to save the world; the world, it does not want to be saved."
"You mock us?" A British man asked in French, affronted.
Lyssa looked back in disgust. "This place is called the Blood Fields for a reason. Mock you? No. You are stupid, no? Come here, easy to trick and get in trouble so bad your governments will not help, despite being their children."
"You don't work for the United States?" An American woman asked in French.
Lyssa chuckled. "I do not. Your families hired me. You are worth ten million in gold bars to me. I will take you to safety. Yes, I will. I will earn my pay for your lives you care nothing about. Make no mistake, I will drag your bodies to the pick up and if you do not survive the trip home, will not matter. I only have to get you to the place they can meet you. They get you, I get my gold. THEN you may die if you wish. If you insist on dying before that, I will give you enough pain to change your mind."
One of the American men glared at her and said in French. "So that's all we are. Money."
"A good man will want to do something helpful. A noble man will try. A helpful man will do his best to help those in need. A smart man will do so where it will have success." Lyssa said in French, to the group, then turned back to him. "But it will be the WISE man; who will do something helpful, for those in need, where it will do the most good and NOT cause trouble for anyone. Including himself. This does not describe any of you, yes?"
He continued to glare at the woman in camouflage fatigues and face concealed with swirls of jungle colors.
Lyssa shook her head. "You believe having good intentions protect you? No. You think having an important parent does? No. You are all stupid. This is Africa. You can be a victim just like everyone else who lives and breathes. The fact you cannot defend yourself, makes it easier. The fact you won't even try, makes you stupid. Count your blessings, fools, Mistress Fortune does not favor you. That is why your families are paying me. Because you are unfortunate and fools. This talk and rest is over. Move your bodies, before Bohbi comes to collect them again."
They all got up and began to follow the harsh woman. Each began to think in-depth on her words.
Endigawa Bohbi was beyond confused. Who had attacked his camp? How had they entered the camp undetected, freed the captive doctors, attacked and escaped without suffering a single loss? There was also the death of the Iranian woman. She committed suicide, yes, but it seemed that she did so in response to being bitten by a Mamba. One of his men had been bitten as well. When checking her, the snake came from under the bed and struck his leg. He begged for a mercy shot and received it. The worst had been when Franco returned. It seemed the gate had been booby-trapped as well. Rifles fired in both directions at the same time, three men had died and one vehicle disabled. Franco himself had been wounded in the right shoulder.
"WHO DID ALL OF THIS?" Endigawa demanded of no one in particular.
A sergeant asked. "How could such a large force go unnoticed? There must be at least a hundred of them!"
"Silence! I don't care how many! They must be found and slaughtered! I want those prisoners back! NOW!" Endigawa demanded.
"Sir!" A lieutenant walked up.
Endigawa rounded on the man. "WHAT?"
"I have finished confirming the counts. Colonel, One hundred and sixteen men are dead. Another twenty-six will not last the day. Fifty-one are seriously wounded. In all, Three hundred and twelve are still able to fight." The lieutenant listed.
Endigawa was enraged. "Only three hundred and twelve? I had over five hundred!"
The lieutenant hesitated a moment then said. "There are men...unaccounted for. I do not know if they are captured, dead or wounded and were hidden or they have run away in fear."
The sound of a grenade going off drew their attention.
"The men are still finding traps, the hard way. Whoever attacked us, Colonel, they are very good." The lieutenant commented.
Endigawa Bohbi didn't like what was being said. "The prisoners! Where are they?"
"I do not know, Sir. We do not know when they were taken or which direction they went. We still do not know how many attacked us. We think they came from the West. The trail to the North was booby-trapped." The lieutenant reported, only to be interrupted.
"I know it was, fool!" Endigawa said angrily.
The lieutenant tried to keep calm. "Any tracks by the attackers stopped within the length of trapped trail. We could not find any other tracks leading away that were not our own."
Endigawa Bohbi stomped to his shack and grabbed Franco by the throat. "WHO DID THIS?"
Franco choked out. "I don't know! I only saw a woman! Just one woman! She spoke French with no foreign accent! She spoke English with no accent at all! She never said her name or who sent her!"
Endigawa froze, staring at the man as if he was insane. "ONE WOMAN? NO WOMAN COULD EVER DO ANY OF THIS! YOU THINK I AM A FOOL? WHERE HAVE THEY GONE?"
"I don't know! She told me nothing of her plan! Nothing of anyone! She only asked where they were and how many men you have! Nothing else!" Franco protested.
Endigawa shoved him away. "She knew you were not to be trusted! I must have those prisoners back!"
No one within his shouting-range had any suggestions to offer. He stormed around the camp until almost noon then called his remaining men.
Endigawa glared in disgust at his assembled force. "Follow me!"
At the entry he formed his men into a single-file line down the middle of the road, facing North. The men were an arm's length from each other, touching the shoulder of man on their left.
"Circle the camp! Look for tracks we can follow." Endigawa ordered.
The skirmish line moved off the road, encircling the camp. When they returned to the road, the line was shifted further down the road. It took ten circuits to find a small sign of trail movement. A small tuft of brush, bent to lean in outbound direction of the trail.
"COLONEL!! COLONEL!" A boy looking no older than fifteen called out, pointing to the ground in excitement.
"What? What is it? What are you doing?" Endigawa demanded of the boy down on all-fours.
The boy looked up. "I saw plants pushed down, going that way. I found this, now."
Endigawa crouched down and looked where he pointed. A shoe print. A small western shoe print. He laid his hand next to it.
"GOOD! This is a woman's print!" Endigawa announced and stood up. "Follow that, boy, and when you find them; you may have the woman it belongs to for two nights!"
The boy sprang to his feet. "Two night? I can have her, not just look? I can have her?"
"As many times as you can!" Endigawa smiled lewdly. "Any way you want. For TWO nights! Go! Lead us to them!"
The teen moved forward as the rest stood to the side. He went forward, carefully scanning the ground to find another sign twenty feet ahead. The column of men fell in behind their leader, walking casually behind his new scout. The promise of sex with a woman focused his searching. He worked carefully. Not just because of the promised reward, but he had already guessed that should he lose the track, Bohbi would either order him raped or killed, if not both. He had suffered more than one rape when he had been taken from his people four years before and did not wish to repeat it.
The lieutenant walked closer to Bohbi and commented. "Colonel, they try very hard to clean the trail without looking like it. The only tracks are of the prisoners."
"I can see that myself!" Bohbi snarled.
"Franco may have been telling the truth, about just one woman. She must be a mercenary, hired to rescue them." The lieutenant suggested.
Bohbi grabbed his lieutenant by the shirt. "A woman mercenary? Are you insane? Even if there was one, coming here is suicide for them. Who would be so stupid to hire a woman to come here?"
"That may be it Colonel. They are so desperate to hire an insane woman. She works with other mercenaries. They attack us, she rescued the prisoners. One person could not have done all that happened and take the prisoners away." He stated then said quietly. "We could be following a false trail. Make him go further ahead, in case it is more traps."
Endigawa Bohbi wanted to both laugh and scream at the man for such thoughts, but thought first. Yes, the attack on his camp and the traps they encountered were very effective. Professional. The work of experienced soldiers, trained for just such warfare. They were not the kind to take lightly. This angered him even more. He was familiar with most of the mercenaries brave enough to enter the country. No one he knew did these things. It reminded him of his set back over ten years ago. He had lost almost all of the army he had been preparing for a coup. Only the small contingent he had taken to the capital for scouting survived. He refused to let that happen again.
Lyssa marched the group steadily through the day, allowing only two one hour breaks. She had to find edible plants as there had been no time to gather any food, though she doubted there had been any prepared rations. That had been confirmed by comments from the group. They had been given scraps left over from the camp food. What supplies they had brought, were taken by Bohbi himself. Fortunately, most plants can be eaten raw. Water was another story. Filtering wasn't a problem, but the tablets were. She had brought sixty of the tablets, but to treat the water required time. Half an hour per liter. Lingering around water sources could lead to discovery. As the sun was setting she had to stop them again. It took almost twenty minutes to find the right plants then grind them up and mix with clean water to make the repellent spray.
As night fell, she urged them on.
"Please. We are so tired. Can't we stop?" A British woman begged.
Lyssa shook her head. "We cannot. Any relief we give is a gift for them. Every moment bought by the confusion of last night, has been eaten by them now. They must hurry to make up our lead since finding the actual trail."
"They found us? How?" The lead American man asked.
Lyssa answered. "They found it by looking. They would not give you away so easily. Any sign, no matter how small, is still a sign and they searched for it. They have anger fueling them. They will not stop until their hands are around our throats. We must keep moving. Time is not our friend. Nothing here is."
Anthony Maven shook his head and muttered in English to himself. "Woman is a damn slave-driver."
"At least we know she doesn't intend to rape us." The American woman behind him said.
The British woman sighed. "No Rachel, she is just selling us back to our families."
"Should we really trust her though, Nicola?" Rachel asked.
"Rachel, Nicola. We are going South. Tomorrow night or the next, maybe, we will cross the border into Ivory coast. Colonel Bohbi won't chase us very far there. They hate him there. She obviously knows this, or we wouldn't be going this way. She would have tried going back to the capital for an airport. Bohbi would be able to catch us there." A British man behind them said.
Nicola looked back. "But she just left Jazmina there Raymond."
"Not Jazmina. Jazmina was a fake." Anthony corrected.
Rachel interrupted. "How can we be sure?"
"Be quiet. I don't care what you are all talking about, but do it quietly or not at all. Everything is louder at night." Lyssa told them in French. "We are not the only things here."
That made them stop talking. The jungle did contain all manner of creatures that would attack, attracted by their noise.
Raymond moved up close to keep his voice low. "Jazmina, or whatever her name was, was very friendly with Franco. Franco handed us over to Bohbi and she never said anything in protest. I always thought there was something wrong about her."
Suddenly they realized that the woman leading them had slowed down, almost waiting between each step forward.
"What is it?" Anthony asked in French.
Lyssa looked back and replied in French. "River."
Rachel asked in French. "A river? Which one?"
"One that does not help." Lyssa replied in French. "Well, it does not help as much as we would like."
Raymond understood immediately and said to the others. "It won't take us to safety."
When Lyssa looked at him blankly, Anthony said in French. "It won't get us out of here, right?"
"Yes. It is only an obstacle. We can use the water for drinking, but the river is not escape. It will take us away from safety." Lyssa explained.
Nicola looked defeated. "What will we do?"
Lyssa ignored her and began instructing them in French. "We must gather things. This is time we spend to earn more."
The group listened then searched around to find downed branches and logs while Lyssa herself gathered some vines. They piled everything up on the trail until Lyssa told them to stop. They watched as she went around and wiped away all signs of their wandering. What she said next, made their brains turn to mush.
"You men spread out along the trail. Good. Now relieve yourselves." Lyssa instructed in French then added. "Not all on the ground. Do so on the plants. Girls, over here. Crouch down behind this bush and relieve yourselves. Try to stay on the leaves and not the dirt."
"Why?" Rachel asked in French as Nicola did her business.
Lyssa answered in French. "In the dirt is bad. It will soak in and the smell will not be so strong. The smell needs to be strong and last as much as possible."
Raymond was zipping his pants back up and asked in French. "Won't that get attention?"
"That is my plan. I want to get Bohbi's attention. I want him to go to the river." Lyssa explained in French.
When they finished marking the area, they collected up everything gathered and went on toward the river. Fifteen minutes later, they stood on the bank, looking at the slow moving water. Under her instructions, a crude raft was made. Canteens were refilled then they boarded the raft and crossed the river, moved upstream then released the raft, guiding it out into the middle of the river. It took only a few minutes for it to drift out of sight. Lyssa had chosen a spot with a good amount of gravel, to hide coming out of the river.
"This will be difficult for some time. We must stay in the bush, not trails. When Bohbi realizes we have fooled him again, he will be very angry. Like you say; time is money. If we invest it wisely, we will earn more." Lyssa explained then led them deep into rough bush, heading southwest now.
As the sun rose, it was Raymond who scrutinized its angle.
"Southwest, I think." Raymond muttered quietly then stopped as whispered loudly. "Komoe!"
"Komoe?" Anthony repeated.
Raymond nodded and kept his voice low. "The Komoe river. She is taking us there, it goes to Ivory Coast directly. That is how she plans to get us all out!"
"I heard you say Komoe." Lyssa said in French. "Do you know it?"
Rachel answered in French. "Ray says it goes south. To Ivory Coast. Yes?"
"Clever. You understand my plan now. Tonight, if we are lucky. I think tomorrow is more likely." Lyssa replied in French.
That news bolstered their confidence. In silence they followed her on. Twice they stopped to refill water from streams and eat some wild plants Lyssa found for them. Eight people required a lot of food. Just after dawn, Lyssa stopped them on the bank of a large river.
"Komoe." Lyssa informed them in French. "One of only two rivers that are all year long. Others dry up after the wet season. We are at the end of it. This river is always running. We cannot stop here though. We go down."
The group followed her for three more hours until she stopped. A cigarette-class boat sat in the river, a man fishing off the transom.
"ALLO!" Lyssa called out. "PAR ICI!"
The man put away his fishing rod, started the boat and motored to the bank.
"I thought you would be here last night." The boatman said in French then handed down a satellite phone.
Lyssa dialed a number and said in French when the call was answered. "A deal is a deal. I brought them all."
Anthony was surprised when the phone was handed to him. "Hello?"
"Tony! Oh thank God!"
"Dad?" Anthony said in surprise.
The whole group gawked in shock.
The Senator demanded harshly. "You, and your friends, get your asses ON THAT BOAT, NOW!"
"Dad.." Anthony started but was immediately cut off.
"I SAID; GET ON THE GODDAMNED BOAT YOU IDIOTIC, UNGRATEFUL ASS! You all have NO idea what we've had to do to make this happen. Get on the boat or you will be knocked out, hogtied and loaded on the boat!" The Senator swore.
Lyssa snarled as she snatched the phone away. "Sur le bâteau! Maintenant!"
"All of you. They are demanding you get ON the boat now. Do as they say." The boatman said in American-English then turned to Lyssa and said in French. "I hear Bohbi is heading this way. I have a bag for you. Do you want it, or are you coming?"
Lyssa nodded and replied in French. "Give me the bag, water and something eat. Get them out of here. I'll keep the phone."
He nodded and replied in French. "Okay."
Lyssa stepped away and talked on the phone.
Rachel looked up. "Who are you?"
The boatman reached down and pulled her up. "Malcolm Tombs, adventurer-extraordinaire and your route to freedom. Provided you quit standing around looking like a bunch of jack-asses. You've done enough stupid for a life-time, get on the fucking boat. We gotta get outta here, yesterday."
One of the British doctors asked. "What about her?"
Malcolm shook his head. "Her job was to get you here. Seems like she isn't done though. I owe a favor and this is me paying it off. I take you down river to the ocean. From there, the U.S. Navy picks you up and you all go home."
Lyssa was out of the group's earshot, speaking on the phone in English. "I got them to Tombs. I'll settle the Bohbi problem. They were told you paid me ten million in gold bullion."
"Very well. We will maintain the cover story. Do you require anything more?" Sir Thomas asked.
Lyssa answered. "Yes. Forget my existence. This is it."
"Agreed. Best of luck." The Senator said.
Lyssa disconnected and walked back over to the boat. A moment later Malcolm hefted over a large dry bag, three gallon jugs of water and a bag of MREs.
"Merci." Lyssa said.
Malcolm nodded. "Bon chance Mam'selle. Kill that fuck."
Lyssa replied in French accented English. "Stay out of trouble."
Malcolm reversed his engine and carefully backed away from the bank then turned down river and powered away. He wanted to laugh, only he had caught that she'd understood and spoken English. It didn't matter. He still didn't know her name or anything else, other than where and when to meet them. A glance back and she was already gone, disappeared back into the jungle.
Endigawa Bohbi was marching his men as if he had a whip at the backs. The boy that had been scouting ahead, lost their track at the river. He had been so excited when he found the places where they had urinated. He all but ran them down to the river. Of course, the drag marks of the raft sent them down river until they found the raft lodged between rocks. For three hours they searched both banks and found nothing. For losing the trail of the western doctors, he was drowned in the river while being raped by Endigawa himself. After that, they split to search the banks going up-river. By morning, they found the subtle signs in the bush and began tracking again.
"I want this devil-woman and those damned doctors! Do not stop!" Endigawa ordered his men.
The track through the bush opened up to a game trail and the scout called back. "Here! Here! I see a print from boots!"
"GO! RUN THEM DOWN!" Endigawa yelled.
The guerrilla force ran down the trail. The boot prints were becoming easier to find and keep on the trail. As the sun rose, they felt as if they could be on top of them any moment. Then the unthinkable happened. The scout fell into a shallow hole and began screaming in pain. The hole was only knee-deep but half the man's length. It had many sharpened sticks pointing up, impaling him.
Endigwa Bohbi pulled his pistol and shot the man three times to stop his screaming then swore. "DAMN THEM! THEY HAVE ENOUGH TIME FOR THESE TRICKS?"
Suddenly several explosions went off on both sides of the trail. Endigawa felt things speed past him as his men were shredded and dove behind a nearby tree. Smaller explosions went off then, obviously grenades. Auto-fire from a rifle followed, those not shredded from the first explosions or the grenades, went down under the hail of bullets. The fire would stop and resume several times, for reloading. Finally everything stopped and the only sounds to be heard were slight moans from the mortally wounded occupied with their impending death.
Bohbi peered around the tree he was hiding behind. They had literally run into the perfect ambush. He seemed to be the only one still able to move. Move is exactly what he did. Endigawa Bohbi had never crawled upon the ground since childhood, but he did so now. He crawled until his hands were scratched and bleeding from the underbrush. When he believed himself clear of the killing zone, he scrambled to his feet and began running.
Lyssa hurried to set up her ambush. It had to be ready before sunset at the latest. She had grenades and claymores in the bag, along with a CAR-15 and twenty thirty-round magazines already loaded. The toll of the past six days was catching up with her as she finally sat back to watch the trail and eat an MRE. When the scout trotted past her position, she crept behind a three foot curved wall of thick sticks. Three hours of frantic work was about to come to fruition. A man's screams were silence with three pistol shots followed by shouting. Lyssa focused her thoughts and concentrated hard. Soon she felt it. The surging of the hormone again. Lyssa was going up past her own redline more than she'd ever been before.
"Thanks for playing." Lyssa whispered and tapped a cluster of wire ends to a six-volt battery.
The claymores taped to tree trunks went off on both sides of the trail. A fast as she could, Lyssa pulled the pins and threw grenades into the clusters of men looking for an enemy to fight. A few began to swing towards her direction and met with incoming auto-fire from the CAR-15's 5.56mm rounds. When the last magazine ran dry, she bolted out and rushed the skirmish line, knife in hand. New screams of terror and pain ensued. Lyssa was a horrifying sight, lightening fast moves and accuracy that wasn't slowing down. A dying man would serve as shield against incoming rounds until she reached the gunners. Kicks, punches and slashes from the knife. Somewhere along the way, the knife became lodged in a skull and had to be left behind. It was all hand-to-hand now.
When the last man fell; Lyssa went back and retreived the Fairbarne-Sikes knife and looked over each face, searching for the most important one. One of the guerrillas had been carrying an old M-16. She checked him for loaded magazines and found two. After a few minutes she heard movement then saw Endigawa Bohbi crawling as fast as he could down the opposite side of the trail. She picked up her discarded rifle, reloaded and pocketed the other magazine and moved to follow.
Bohbi ran for his life as soon as he got to his feet, almost tripping over himself. He knew that if he wanted his life, he would have to escape. He barely made a hundred meters when he heard the rifle open up again and fell face first to the dirt, his knees mangled. Endigawa rolled over and felt several bullets tear through his shoulder as well. The renegade Colonel looked up and saw a woman wearing old camouflage pointing a rifle at him. Her face swirled with combat paints.
"I know you speak English Bohbi." Lyssa said flatly, setting the rifle down then walking closer.
Bohbi looked at her with intense burning hatred. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"
"I missed you twelve years ago. I didn't this time." Lyssa said, pulling the Fairbarne-Sikes knife. "Past the gates, before the throne. I've been to Hell, Colonel Endigawa Bohbi. I send you now."
Bohbi's scream reverberated long and loud in the jungle. Lyssa went back to her hide to retrieve the bag then headed back to the Komoe River. One more aspect to deal with.
Franco Jeanvier poured the vodka into a glass and gulped most of it down. There was no word from Bohbi and none of the doctors had been seen at the airport. He hadn't slept for more than two hours during the day for the past six days. The sun would be up in an hour Just in case, he had brought in some local men to guard his house. He'd paid for forty and had to arm all of them.
"I put my life in the hands of idiots." Franco said to himself then looked out the window. "Where are they?"
The sound of something heavy hitting the floor made him whirl around and see the form of a woman in camoflage step over a body.
"Five hundred and thirty-eight. No, I didn't forget about you." Lyssa said in English, standing in the doorway.
Franco backed away and shook his head. "Bohbi!! It was all Bohbi!"
"Not happening. I know you're dirty as all shit. I'll deal with you now." Lyssa said softly then moved.
Franco couldn't believe his eyes. The woman had stood over twenty feet away then right in front of him. He hadn't even blinked and she was there, holding a knife buried to the hilt in his chest.
Lyssa's voice was only a whisper and her eyes were unfocused, with a far away cast to them. "Your killer woke before dawn. I already had my boots on. Five hundred, thirty-nine. Mission; accomplished."
Franco leaned then fell over, his eyes wide in disbelief were glazing over as Lyssa turned away, stumbled and caught herself.
"You don't mind if I clean up here, do you? I need all the cold water you have, before I catch my flight in two hours." Lyssa said without humor as her left hand twitched.
No one paid much attention to the blonde woman walking through the airport terminal in Marrakesh, Morocco. She collected the pre-paid ticket at the counter for Barcelona, Spain. From Spain to Atlanta, Georgia via New York. In Atlanta she picked up another ticket to Grand Bahama International Airport; Freeport, Bahamas. Rodrick met her at the terminal.
"Oh christ." Rodrick said, looking at her face. "Can you even see?"
Lyssa's voice was hollow. "Home. Get me home."
Rodrick waited until they were away from the doors then scooped up his wife and carried her over to the helicopter pad. Lyssa was almost dead-weight as he set her in the co-pilot's seat.
"I'm hurrying, baby, I'm hurrying." Rodrick choked out as he started the engines of the Bell.
As fast as he could, Rodrick lifted off. He was hovering and turning to vector as permission to take off was given. He red-lined the helicopter's throttle to reach the island. Halfway there, she started to shake.
"Ram Air, cleared to land." Lonestar called out as the island came into sight in the darkness.
"Copy!" Rodrick called back then looked over. "Baby? How you doing?"
Lyssa was slack in the harness. "Threshold. I'm...."
Contrary to all safety procedures, Rodrick cut the engines and bolted out as soon as the wheels touched the tarmac in front of the main hangar. He yanked the opposite door open and slapped the harness buckle to release Lyssa. Lonestar came up and helped drag her out. Together they walked her toward the hangar.
"To the house?" Lonestar asked.
Lyssa's voice sounded far away as her eyes rolled back and she spasmed. "Lock-er."
"In the Hangar. Get her in the hangar, Joe." Rodrick ground out through clenched teeth trying to keep Lyssa upright.
Lonestar almost lost his hold and fumbled to catch her. "Jesus! I can feel it through my damned gloves! What the hell is going on, she's burning up!"
Kimberly ran out from the door to the TOC. "Oh my god!"
"Lay her down here." Rodrick ordered. "Kim, grab her kit."
Kimberly yanked open Lyssa's locker and fumbled to drop the hidden compartment. "I'm getting it!"
Kimberly looked inside and took one of the five small cases and ran over.
Rodrick ripped the lid off, pulled the syringe and vial of blue fluid. "Her neck, Kim."
Kimberly wiped Lyssa's neck with an alcohol pad. He pulled the plunger back then inserted the needle through the sealed top, inverted them and forced the plunger down the barrel. Air was forced into the vial, then he withdrew almost the all of the fluid and pulled the needle free as Lyssa began to convulse.
"You don't want to be around in a minute." Rodrick said, carefully pushing the needle into her neck then slowly injected her with the fluid.
He held the needle in, counting to ten, then pulled it out. Lyssa's convulsing became more violent then she went limp and let out a slow breath.
"Oh god. Tell me she didn't...Lyssa didn't..." Kimberly stammered.
Rodrick slumped over. "Please. Get out. The worst is coming. You don't want to be here. You don't want to know."
Lyssa's eyes flew open as she gasped deep then her whole body arched. Lonestar flinched and Kimberly clutched at him as Rodrick buried his face in his hands. The Hangar echoed as Lyssa screamed and started thrashing on the floor. Over and over, Lyssa screamed in agony and writhed on the concrete floor. Several minutes passed, then she quieted slightly and tremored.
"This is horrible." Kimberly choked out through her tears.
Rodrick shook his head. "It's not over. She only had a few minutes left. This is the worst she's ever been. If Whisper hadn't given her the kits, she would have stayed over there to burn up. She can't bring herself back on her own anymore. This is why she's giving up Field-Ops."
Lonestar pulled off his helmet and demanded. "This isn't illness, Mason. You don't pick this up in any goddamned jungle! It isn't even a condition! She's one of them! It's because, she's one of THEM! ISN'T IT? ISN'T IT? They push beyond every limit! They literally BURN themselves out to stay on the edge! THIS! THIS RIGHT HERE! This is the price they pay!"
Rodrick nodded. "Yes."
Lonestar shook his head in disgusted anger.
"She explained it to me, the night she told me her past. She was supposed to have the longest operational lifespan, but since she went to work for Paul, that's not the case. She's had to max-out more times than the rest. Patch ran the test on her while they were here. Whisper brought the kits without telling that asshole, Raines. He could only give her five. She's down to four now. Four times, that all she has left. After that, she stays out of the field or she doesn't come back." Rodrick told him.
Kimberly reached over and grabbed his shoulder. "Paul negotiated a deal. This was the last one. They can't force her anymore. She's done. No more, Rod. She won't have to anymore."
They looked down as Lyssa arched again and screamed. This time it didn't have such an edge to it. Like she was being twisted instead of burned. On and off, the intervals decreasing in frequency and duration until she went limp and slipped into unconsciousness.
"Close up her locker and burn the used kit. Nobody else is to know. NOBODY!" Rodrick instructed then gathered her up.
"Okay. Nobody." Kimberly said then went over to Lyssa's locker, closing the compartment and locking the door.
Lonestar picked up the syringe, vial and case. He used the torch set between the hangars to melt it all into nothing. Kimberly held onto him and sobbed all the way to their cottage. Now they understood why Lyssa never talked about any DemonWraiths retiring. They all went down in the field, never to return home. She would be the first.
Rodrick carried Lyssa into their house and headed for the stairs. Krystel was sitting on the couch.
"The twins are still asleep. Warlock is in their room. Can I do anything?" Krystel asked.
"Thank you, no. Lock up on your way out, please. Lyssa's going to be down a while." Rodrick said.
Krystel turned out the lamp and locked the door before closing it. It was odd for Lyssa and Rodrick to lock up.
Lyssa slowly opened her eyes.
"Welcome back." A familiar voice said.
Lyssa slowly looked over and mumbled. "Fuck. I did die and go to Hell."
"Not this time. It was close though." Whisper replied.
"Nice to see you back." Another voice said.
Lyssa looked and saw Patch come in. "How many of you?"
Patch started taking her vitals. "Just myself, Whisper and Quest. You've been down for three days."
Whisper held a cup of water with a straw for her and Lyssa drank.
"You really cut it close. Rodrick told us what happened." Whisper said.
Lyssa sighed. "How'd you get here?"
"Colonel Lando picked us up at Eglin. That's where we're supposed to be right now." Whisper replied.
Patch made notes in a file and shook his head. "I have to make it official. You're done. I'm invoking Medical Authority, Operational Status is revoked for you."
Lyssa watched as he opened up a case. The DemonWraith doctor took out a syringe and loaded it with a clear liquid from a vial. "Turn over."
Lyssa rolled over and felt him feel the back of her head then the prick of the needle. Her scalp went numb then felt pressure and smelled blood then something pulled off her skull. Lyssa could tell her skin was being sew together then cleaned.
"Turn back over." Patch instructed.
Lyssa rolled over and held her head off the pillow as a towel was placed over it. She saw the bloody five inch long strip cleaned in alcohol and placed into a box. Patch took out three more syringes and load them with different fluids.
"Arm." Patch instructed then found her vein and injected the first syringe.
"Thigh." Patch said pulling the bedding back.
He felt along the inside of her right thigh then inserted a long needle and injected her.
Patch picked up the third syringe. "Turn your head."
Lyssa turned her head away and felt the needle go in and press against the fourth cervical vertebrae then fluid flow in. She hissed in discomfort.
"Complete. Tracer removed. Bio-stabilizers induced. Two more days of bed rest. A week; light duty." Patch said, putting his instruments away. "Do I need to sedate you?"
Lyssa said softly. "No."
Patch looked to Whisper, who shook his head.
"So I'm not deployable anymore." Lyssa said, staring out the window.
Whisper reached over and took her hand. "This isn't like before. You're not being thrown away. If you go, you'll go down in the field. Nobody wants that for you. You proved them all wrong. You proved you still had value and earned more. You proved everything you believed in. No more arguments, save one. My argument."
Patch walked out of the room.
"I did a horrible thing to you. I did a cruel thing, to you. I have no excuse for it. You wanted to go and I refused to let you. We both know there is no afterlife. You were going into oblivion. I heard you though. You regretted not ever being yourself. I couldn't help. I kept your secret, but never helped. I demanded they release you. Medical out. Yes, it was me, not Raines. I wanted you to have that chance to make a life without that regret. It was the only thing I could think of to help." Whisper admitted.
Lyssa shifted position slightly. "You can't see the damned future."
"Oh, how I wish I could. So many things would have been different for us all. For all the wrongs done against you, you made them right. All, but mine. You could never kill me slow enough, painfully enough, to atone for what I did to you. I denied you death when you wanted it so bad and relieved to be finally going to it. I took it away from you. I am; the most sadistic and evil being you have ever encountered without killing." Whisper pronounced sadly.
A tear rolled down Lyssa's cheek. "Live and suffer, you sanctimonious son of a bitch. I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate what you did to me. I hate you so much, I'll never kill you. Find a way to go down, because I won't do it for you. Forgiveness will never be yours!"
Whisper nodded. "Yes. I know. I understand. What I did, can never be undone. Anything you ask of me, will be done without protest. I will never tell you 'no'."
Whisper stood up and walked to the door and stopped.
Without turning around he looked down. "I can only say; I'm so very sorry, Lane. Please find happiness in this life, as Lyssa, for you are truly beautiful. Just like you wanted to be."
Whisper walked out, leaving Lyssa alone in her bed. Downstairs, Dannigan was sitting on the couch.
"Done?" Dannigan asked.
Whisper sighed. "Yes, Major General."
"Sit." Dannigan ordered then added. "You as well, Colonel Ayers."
Patch joined Whisper on the sofa facing the big Spook.
"Captain, you already know what I'm about to say, but I want you BOTH to understand. When you go back, you will destroy all biologicals for DemonWraith Immortal; Sergeant First Class Kory Lyles, Sergeant First Class Lane Koverton. No RNA, no DNA, no fingerprints, no retinal prints, no blood or tissue samples. All of it. Am I absolutely clear?" Dannigan growled.
"Yes, Sir." Both answered.
Dannigan glared. "There are to be no dirty tricks or attempts at Biological Research. Do I need to get crayons to illustrate?"
"No, Sir." Both replied.
"Dismissed." Dannigan stated.
Both DemonWraiths stood, saluted and walked out. Whisper stopped and came back.
"Something else, Captain?" Dannigan asked
"Sir, right now is an opportunity that may never come again. Speak freely, Sir?" Whisper asked
Dannigan sighed and nodded. "Granted."
Whisper paused a moment then looked at him. "After General Whitacre's death, we secured files for transfer. After Operation: Emerald Inferno. Well, the failure of Operation: Emerald Inferno; Colonel Raines had filed a transfer for Immortal. That transfer was, for a lack of a better word, 'intervened'. Immortal; Kory, Sir, was going on the Zombie roster. Zombie roster is a death sentence; Operational Suicide. Only two people knew. Raines and Whipsnap. Somebody, over General Whitacre's pay-grade, ordered an immediate dog and pony show medical discharge. In truth, Kory was transferred to your Command and the discharge was completely bogus."
Dannigan got up and poured a whiskey. "I didn't hear a question in there."
Whisper sighed. "Transfer to the Zombie roster has never been denied or 'intervened' before. Why this time? How were you able to get her transferred under your command? You never met her. You didn't even know her."
Dannigan pointed to the couch. "Sit down, Captain Falworth."
Whisper was surprised. Until that moment, only four people had known his name. Generals Singleton and Whitacre, Colonel Raines and Colonel Ayers, A.K.A. Patch. He sat down.
"Way back when; three young men went through Officer School and became good friends. Samuel Whitacre, William Koverton and Andrew Polson. Koverton spent ten years in the Rangers then had to take a medical after shattering a leg falling off an escarpment. He had a son and a daughter. The daughter went to medical school, married well, et cetera. The son, on the other hand, didn't do so well. Delinquent, several stints in Juvie. As an adult, drinking problem, a handful of drug charges, Assault and Battery. Piece of shit asshole." Dannigan said looking at the liquor in the glass then sipped.
Whisper nodded. "Sounds like it, Sir."
The Spook nodded. "Well, Nick Koverton did something stupid and incredible. He drunk-fucked a girl five years younger than him that he picked up at the local hangout-parking lot. She got pregnant. She wasn't exactly all sweet and innocent, but not a doorknob either. A literal shotgun wedding took place." Dannigan said then chuckled. "Koverton Senior threatened to blow Junior's head off if he didn't marry her and take care of the kid. Which he did, more or less. Basically; trailer-trash. Not exactly the home environment a kid would thrive in, but William had a very heavy hand in the kid's upbringing until he died during the kid's freshman year at high school."
"Lane Koverton, the Immortal." Whisper surmised.
Dannigan went on. "The two remain friends stayed in contact, Lane was kept under Generals' eyes after enlisting. He turned out to be a fine soldier and flourished. Just after graduating from the Kennedy; Nick and Miranda Koverton died in a car crash. Official report declared it an accident. Unofficially, Nick was still the same asshole and pissed off the wrong guy. The police report had been sanitized for Lane's sake. Flash forward; Whipsnap and Polson never took their eyes off him, especially after DemonWraith selection. Then the worst happened. Emerald Inferno. That fucking disaster!"
Whisper hung his head at the mention of it. It was his greatest regret.
"You weren't even out of the jungle. The moment you confirmed recovery of Kory, alive, Raines was filing the transfer. While you were in transit back, the two Generals met and afterward, I was called to report to Polson. I was briefed and ordered to intervene. Raines was tied up in red-tape while I pulled a snatch and grab." Dannigan explained.
"Sir. Did General Whitacre know? Did he know she became Lyssa?" Whisper asked
Dannigan grinned. "Of course. He and General Polson watched her dance at the Met. They were thrilled and sent bouquets of roses. To be honest, it was how I've been able to keep her alive all this time."
"Thank you, Sir. Now I know why I was given a note to 'respect your privacy'. No more questions, Major General." Whisper stood up, saluted again and left.
Dannigan held up what was left of the drink. "To you, Major Koverton. I kept their promise to you. Your grandchild is safe now, Sir."
"Are you serious?"
Krystel nodded to the main monitor. "That's right Tammy-girl."
"How?" Tammy asked.
Krystel tilted her head. "Didn't Colonel MacTaggart explain it to you?"
"Well, he said that due to certain problems over here, I'm now affiliated with your group. Hopefully that by working with you and your people, all the attention I've been getting will subside. He said I 'acquired attention of negative aspect, due to bureaucratic lack of diligence'. Kerri, what exactly does that mean?" Tammy asked.
Krystel sighed. "That's a very political way of saying that during the screwing of a pooch, you got fucked too and it went beyond recovery."
"So what happens to me now?" Tammy asked.
"Kind of like divorce. Joint custody of the kid. You live there and play nice, but all the paperwork is in our name. The upside, you get more help than before. The downside; MacTaggart deals with you directly and you have to behave yourself more." Krystel explained.
Tammy asked. "So I work for both Broadsword and you?"
Krystel looked thoughtful and answered. "More like, you work for yourself and do side projects for us both, but it's our name on the listing."
"Okay. Do I need to do anything right now?" Tammy asked.
Krystel nodded. "Yes. Get two weeks free and pack lightweight clothing. You're going to visit Freeport, Bahamas, for meetings."
"So, I won't be going to Canada." Tammy remarked.
"You'll get a packet in your email when you send me the dates. It'll be your itinerary. Go through it before you tell anybody anything. Gotta go now. Later Tammy, welcome aboard." Krystel said and signed off.
"Nice girl." Kimberly commented.
Krystel nodded. "Yeah. She got screwed over. MacTaggart tried to help, but she just gets thrown in deeper holes. How's Lyssa?"
"I'm about to go find out. I do know, it isn't good. She's done. No more deployments." Kimberly said then went up.
The Lear took off, Kimberly knew Lonestar was flying the three DemonWraiths back to Eglin. She'd made the call for them to come when Lyssa didn't wake up on the second day. She picked up a package from her desk and walked to Lyssa and Rodrick's house, going straight up to the bedroom.
"Are they gone?" Lyssa asked.
Kimberly nodded. "Yes. I stayed away from Whisper, as you said."
"Good." Lyssa replied then looked over. "Rodrick give them any static about the kits?"
Kimberly shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. "No. Patch told him to give them back and he handed all four over. No argument, no static."
Kimberly opened the box and took out a slim case, opened it and showed the syringe and vial inside. "The lab in Geneva was able to create copies. You have five."
"That's fine. Five is all I need." Lyssa said, inspecting the contents. "You can relax. I only wanted them for emergency use. I'm sorry I scared you, but I had to. My rainy day finally came. Put them in my locker, please."
Kimberly nodded then asked. "What did they do to you?"
"They removed the tracker on my skull and gave me three neurotoxins. The injections shut down my glands. I'm over-producing and super-saturated. The effect is temporary to bring my levels down. They think it'll shut down four of the six glands permanently. It won't. In three days I'll burn it up. Don't tell anybody. I'll tell Rodrick myself."
"So that Whisper wouldn't know. Alright. Here's the last of those GWT papers." Kimberly handed her a clutch of documents.
Lyssa read and handed them back. "So all of that company is back under Maria?"
"Yes. She'll find out tomorrow evening or the next day. Even Mindy's shares were signed over. The Major is waiting downstairs, I'll send him up." Kimberly said and left.
Kimberly passed Dannigan on the stairs. "She's awake."
Dannigan stopped in the doorway. "Is it safe?"
"For everybody, but me." Lyssa answered.
"You're safe. You were able to secure the deals. Your freedom, the girl in Scotland under my umbrella and a final pass for the Black Badges." Dannigan said.
Lyssa said nothing, just continued to look out the window to the ocean.
"Tell me what it is you want." Dannigan said heavily then noticed the trembling of her hands. "What did he give you?"
"A neurotoxin. He shut down my glands. I can't move my legs and it's hard to breathe too." Lyssa answered.
Dannigan sighed. "Damn it."
"The Black Badges are your problem. They can stay here if they want, but when they deploy, they do so under your supervision only. Our side never needs their help and they don't want ours now that the girls have completed school. So be it. Kim is removing their access to the TOC and the Array. They proved they don't need it, along with us." Lyssa said then slowly laid back, her eyes were starting to roll back.
Dannigan nodded. "I asked you for a favor and you did it without reservation. I apologize now and will deal with them today."
Dannigan turned to leave and saw Rodrick in the doorway. They passed each other silently. Rodrick sat down on the bed and leaned over.
"It's just me. The twins are playing downstairs." Rodrick said quietly.
Lyssa took a shallow breath. "I'm slipping. Just sleep. Tomorrow. Love you."
"I love you too." Rodrick said and kissed her.
Rodrick stroked her hair for a while as she slept then went back down to watch and play with their children. In bed with her later, he held her close and wept.
She looked around, it was dark. No moon. No stars. But there was some ambient light. Slowly she rolled and began to slide. Down from the peak she slid, the surface shifting beneath and slipping underneath her descent. Suddenly it gave way and she found herself rolling uncontrollably until falling off the edge to splash below. It was thick. Breaching the surface only felt like she was now coated with something clinging and had to wipe one-handed to clear it from her eyes. It smelled slightly sweet yet metallic. Some had gotten into her mouth. It tasted of the tang of a nine-volt battery's terminals, lightly encrusted with salt. Coppery with a hint of zinc and thick. Disgustingly thick. It filled her nostrils and threatened to clog her throat.
Lyssa forced herself to keep her head above surface and shake her head to sling off the coating. The edge of where she had been was too high to grab onto, but turning around saw something in the dim distance. With no other option obvious, she swam away. It seemed forever in the dark, stopping several times to rest, slightly floating on her back. After what seemed like an endless night, she felt some kind of bottom beneath her. It was soft and irregular. Not sand, dirt or rock. Still, it held her weight and allowed walking instead of forcing her to swim. As Lyssa walked forward, it became more shallow. Light broke as she waded knee deep and realized she had been correct. It wasn't water, but blood. Her arms, legs, all of her body was coated with it. Lyssa started walking forward again. There was no reason to just stand there. There was sand ahead. A beach.
The more she walked, the shallower it became. Translucent as well. Bodies. She was walking upon bodies. A look back and there was a hill jutting up out of the blood. Bodies piled up, like some kind of grotesque island sea of gore.
Lyssa coughed a laugh and murmured to herself. "Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more."
She turned and continued to wade forward and sing . "He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright. He checked out all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight. He sat and listened to those awful engines roar; you ain't gonna jump no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more. Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."
It sounded strange to be only one voice, but Lyssa went on. Determined to make the beachhead.
"Is everybody happy cried the Sergeant looking up. Our Hero feebly answered Yes and then they stood him up. He leaped right out into the blast, his static line unhooked. And he ain't gonna jump no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more. Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom." Lyssa sang as the dawn seemed to break.
The beach was now directly in front of her, any moment she would step freely onto it, so she sang on even louder. "He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock. He felt the wind, he felt the clouds, he felt the awful drop. He jerked the cord, silk spilled out and wrapped around his legs. And he ain't gonna jump, no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."
Two more steps and she would be there, it was all the incentive to spur her on as she sang at the top of her lungs. "The risers wrapped around his neck, the connectors cracked his dome! The lines were snarled and tied in knots, around his skinny bones.The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground. An' he AIN'T gonna JUMP NO MORE. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; an' he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."
There seemed to be a gentle surf following her feet as Lyssa traipsed on. "The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild. The medics jumped and screamed with glee. They rolled their sleeves and smiled, for it'd been a week or more since last a 'chute had failed. He ain't gonna jump no more!"
"He hit the ground, the sound was SPLAT, his blood went spurting high! His comrades were heard to say THERE'S A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE! He lay there, rolling 'round; in the welter of-his-gore. An' he ain't, gonna jump, no more! Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; an' he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom." Lyssa reached the beach.
Finally she stepped out and stood on the firm sand, Lyssa tilted her head back and sang gently. "There was blood; upon the RISERS. There were brains; upon the CHUTE. Intestines, were a-dangling; from his PARATROOPERS' SUIT. He was; a mess. They picked; him up. And poured him; from his boots. He ain't. Gonna jump. No more. Gory, gory; what a hell of a way to die. Gory, gory. What a hell, of a way, to die! GORY! GORY! WHAT! A HELL! OF A WAY! TO DIE! NO; HE AIN'T! GONNA JUMP! NO FUCK-ING! MORE!!"
Lyssa fell face first to the sand. She laughed. She laughed and laughed until she felt hurt. The hurting came and with it, a sense of finality. The tears came as well. They fell into the sand, taking blood away from her eyes until she could see each and every grain. Arms closed around her and held her tight. She couldn't smell blood anymore. She smelled the sea. She smelled soap and a hint of cologne. Instead of sand, she felt soft cloth under her right side and a man's chest that her left arm was draped over.
"Please wake up. I don't know where you were, but come back to me. Come home." Rodrick's voice said softly to her.
Lyssa opened her eyes, the man she loved holding her in his arms. "I'm. I'm free. I'm finally free."
"Yeah. And we're gonna keep it that way." Rodrick nodded. "From now on."
Book 47 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Not all residents of Ram's Rock deal with global implications Sometimes, it's the day to day that makes all the difference WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Ram's Rock Island, Bahamas:
The third youngest resident of Ram's Rock walked toward the hangar in deep thought. Not unusual for her, but today was different.
"Uncle Rodrick?" Mindy called out, entering the hangar.
Rodrick waved a hand from under the seaplane. "Over here, Pipsqueak."
Mindy walked over then crouched down. "Can I ask a question?"
"Sure. What's up?" Rodrick asked.
Mindy knelt down. "What do SEALs do?"
Rodrick was still working on the landing gear and replied. "Kill people, break things. Why?"
"Really Uncle Rodrick?" Mindy huffed.
Rodrick laughed. "Sorry kiddo. Knee-jerk answer. Ok. SEALs perform operations in and around water, mostly. We do rescues, sabotage, gather intel and assaults. We move under and on water, air and land. That's what SEALs do. Pretty much, we do quick-strike work."
Mindy seemed satisfied with that answer. "Oh."
Rodrick looked over. "Why ask?"
"Nobody ever really told me." Mindy answered.
"SEALs are pretty much the 911 call. There's not many places we don't go to do our thing. We do a lot of things. You could say we're the experts at becoming crash-course experts. We can learn how to do things fast." Rodrick explained. "How's that?"
Mindy nodded and got up. "Ok."
Rodrick watched her wander off then shook off her inquisitiveness and went back to work.
Lyssa had just put the twins down for their nap when Mindy walked in.
"Juice?" Lyssa asked.
Mindy nodded. "Yes Ma'am."
Lyssa set the glass on the bar after Mindy got up on the stool. "There you go."
"Aunt Lyssa, what does Special Forces do?" Mindy asked after sipping the juice.
Lyssa drank from her bottled water and answered. "Kill people and destroy things."
Mindy rolled her eyes. "That's what Uncle Rodrick said SEALs do. What does Special Forces really do?"
Lyssa smirked. "Alright. Special Forces are mainly Force Multipliers. What that means is; we go into countries and create militias and armies. Yes, we kill people and destroy things. We also teach and build things. We teach people to fight for their freedom. We also spy on the country we operate in. We rescue hostages, we also snatch high-level people for intel. We set up improvised medical clinics so that real doctors can come in when things are safe. We help leaders get together to work for a common good. That's the quick and dirty version."
"That's a lot." Mindy remarked.
Lyssa nodded. "Special Forces go into an area and they stay for a long time. Mostly, what people mean about Special Forces are the A-Teams. Those are fourteen member teams that go out and work. Each member can do at least two jobs and speak at least two languages. Once an area has been worked enough that conventional units can move into, the teams move to another area and set up."
"Oh." Mindy said then looked up. "But you did more than that. Those men that came here."
Lyssa nodded. "DemonWraiths. We all come from Special Forces and CAG, Combat Applications Group, you know them as Delta. They were never really called that. Some news guy hung it on them. DemonWraiths do rescue, assaults and high-level hostile extractions. That's what kidnapping high-level bad guys is called. We steal things and information on the enemy. We only answer to the commanding General of Special Forces and very few outside the Army know about us. That's all I can tell you."
Mindy finished her juice. "Ok."
Lyssa quirked an eyebrow as Mindy left. "That was interesting."
As Mindy reached the edge of the back patio Warlock trotted up and sat down as Mindy patted his head then stooped down in front of him. The Tactical Belgian licked her face as she scratched his ears.
"What do dogs do?" Mindy asked.
The shepherd tilted his head at her and made a growling yawn sound, as if he asked 'huh?'.
Mindy sighed and stood up. "Not fair that dogs can't talk."
Warlock watched her walk down the path toward the DeMarco house. He had no clue what the short two-legged said, but it seemed more important to her than it should be to him. With that, he went inside to check on the little ones.
Mindy wandered into the DeMarco kitchen and found Anna making tea.
"Buongiorno piccolo." Anna smiled.
Mindy watched her put the lid on the teapot and asked. "Miss Anna, what do maids do?"
“We clean up the mess other people make.” Anna answered with a sly smile as Mindy rolled eyes.
“You do more than that though for Nonnina.” Mindy countered.
Anna just smiled. “I think I know where you are going with that statement, little one. Yes, I do much more than that. I am Madam Maria’s first and longest acting Consigliere. The Consigliere is a position within the leadership structure of the Sicilian, Calabrian, and American Mafia. A consigliere is an advisor or counselor to the boss, with the additional responsibility of representing the boss in important meetings both within the boss's crime family and with other crime families. The consigliere is a close, trusted friend and confidant, the mob's version of an elder statesman; he is an advisor to the boss in a Mafia crime family, and sometimes is his 'right-hand man'. By the very nature of the job, a consigliere is one of the few in the family who can argue with the boss and is often tasked with challenging the boss when needed, to ensure subsequent plans are foolproof. In some depictions, he is devoid of ambition and dispenses disinterested advice. However, this passive image of the consigliere does not correspond with real-life consiglieri. In truth only one out a every twenty are ever close to that image. Most are very ambitious and are more than happy to act in their own interest. Does that answer your question?”
Mindy smiled and nodded her head yes as Anna finished making Maria’s afternoon tea and setting it to a tray. Mindy followed Anna into the office where Maria was.
Maria smiled. "Come to join me for tea?"
Mindy sat down on the sofa beside Maria and asked as Anna poured their tea. "Nonnina, what do assassins do?"
Anna froze in mid-pour and had to school herself in earnest. Mindy's openly frank question had her wanting to drop the teapot in surprise and also laugh at the directness of it. Only a child could do something like that and get away with it. Anna was now very interested in what Maria's response would be.
“We take out the trash of the human race.” Maria answered, only to get a rolling of the eyes by her secret niece claimed as granddaughter. “Okay, Neonata; I get the hint. First, you need to understand a few things. One, assassins are not soldiers. While both kill in the pursuit of their chosen duties. The assassin is usually trained by the military but goes into the private sector when they are discharged. Some are raised in the traditions of their individual families. Then there are the extremely few who are raised in such families and gain further training from the military. An example of this last one are your cousins, Kasey, and Kristine. They have been raised in the traditions of their respective families, the Capizeos and DeMarcos, but they have also been educated by your other Aunts and Uncles. The ways of computer warfare is but one of those ways. That is not always the case though, so do remember that.”
Mindy looked up at Maria with real interest. Maria didn’t know what was driving Mindy’s desire to know more about assassins, but she would be honest with her. “Secondly; there are different types of assassins. Just as there are many types of soldiers. Remember; assassins kill a politically important person or someone that they have been contracted to kill, either for money or from fanatical adherence to a cause. It depends on the situation. Those are two of the many motives for assassins; money or politics. Not all assassins follow a code of honor though. These are the politically motivated assassins. They don’t care who gets in their way when they kill. Remember this; the financially motivated assassin is the one to both fear and respect, Neonata. Not the fanatical assassin. I do not say this because the DeMarco and Capizeo families have this tradition Mindy. No, I say this because assassins such as those in my family follow a Code of Honor. This is what makes them so deadly. Did you enjoy your tea?”
“Si, Nonnina.” Mindy smiled and left the DeMarco home.
The two old friends looked at each other, but it was Anna who spoke first. “THAT was an interesting visit, my Donna.”
“Yes, it was, Anna. I wonder what brought on those questions.” Maria smirked. “I heard her asking you about being a maid.”
“Si, that was a very interesting question for her to ask. Not so much about being your maid, but your Consiglieri.” Anna looked out the window to where Mindy was walking towards the beach and her ‘thinking rock’. “I wonder; what has our piccolo asking such questions of us today?”
Mindy didn’t walk down to her thinking rock. Instead she headed for the Parkour course. She knew that Samantha, Annette, and her cousins were working the course today. The first person she saw though, was Hunter.
Hunter smiled at the third youngest member of the island population. “Hey pipsqueak. What brings you down here today?”
Mindy decided to jump straight to the heart of the matter. “Um… Uncle Hunter, what do Deputy Marshals do?”
“Chase down dirtbags and break their heads.” Hunter smirked, then got a rolling of the eyes from Mindy with a huff of pre-teen indignation. “Okay kiddo. Calm down. Don't get your nose bent out of joint. Deputy Marshals have a very large and diversified range of duties.”
“Like what exactly?” Mindy asked.
“Okay here is the quick and easy breakdown of our duties. The Marshals Service is responsible for apprehending wanted fugitives, serving federal arrest warrants, providing protection for the federal judiciary. You know, Judges, transporting federal prisoners, protecting endangered federal witnesses, and managing assets seized from criminal enterprises. Buildings, vehicles, and stuff. Does that help?” Hunter was hoping that Mindy didn’t ask about SOG Teams or the Black Badge Deputies.
Mindy seemed to accept that, then slammed him. “Are there any other duties that Deputy Marshals have?”
And there it was, Mindy had seen the Black Badges do a lot of stuff that wasn’t in his description and was calling him out on it.
“There are Special Operations Group teams that handle certain cases that your everyday Deputies don’t Mindy. SOG teams work all over the US and in all of its territories. They are also the ones that work ninety percent of the time with INTERPOL and the other International law enforcement agencies.” Hunter could tell that Mindy wanted to know about the Black Badges. “As for what we do as Black Badges; that is something that is TOP SECRET.”
“Ok Uncle Hunter.” With that Mindy finally headed off.
Sam and Annette walked over, with Annette asking. "Did Mindy want something?"
"I don't know. She asked what Deputy Marshals do." Hunter replied.
Sam gave him a puzzled look. "What do Deputy Marshals do?"
Hunter nodded. "Yeah. I told her the general duties. She said 'ok' and wandered off."
"Wonder what that's all about." Annette mused.
Hunter shrugged. "No clue."
They went back to their practice, trying not to dwell on it.
Mindy's wandering led her to the Eastern Beach. Carl was coming in out of the surf with his surfboard. He dropped it, blotted his face with a towel and grabbed a water bottle.
"Hey. Whatcha doin'?" Carl asked.
Mindy tilted her head and asked. "What do Loadmasters and Crew-chiefs do?"
The Californian winked and chuckled. "As little as possible!"
Mindy groaned and rolled her eyes. "Uncle Carl!"
Carl sat down. "We make sure loads and personnel are secure on the aircraft. We make sure they are loaded and unloaded or deployed correctly. How's that?"
"Works for me." Mindy replied then walked on.
"What's up with that?" Carl asked himself as she walked out of sight.
Mindy wandered until she came back to the hangars and went into the Main Hangar. Eddie was up on the Apache.
"Uncle Eddie." Mindy called from the floor.
Eddie didn't look, just called out. "Oh good. Bring me that socket wrench, squirt."
Mindy looked on the cart and called back. "One inch or half inch drive?"
"The One." Eddie answered.
Mindy took the tool and climbed up the stand to lean over to him. "Here."
"Cool." Eddie said and took it then went back to muttering profanity while he worked.
Mindy shook her head. "If Momma hears you, she's gonna make you gargle with solvent. If Nonnina or Miss Anna do, they'll use a wire brush on your mouth."
The mechanic grunted as he pulled then commented. "Don't let 'em in. Get the mutt to run interference or somethin'. No sharks."
"No more sharks Uncle Eddie, I promise." Mindy replied.
Eddie continued to work. "You better."
"What exactly does a mechanic do?" Mindy asked.
Eddie switched his angle and answered. "Fix things assholes break, without wrapping a wrench around their fuckin' necks, so they can go out and break it again. Why, you wanna be one?"
"I dunno." Mindy answered then climbed down and went up to the office.
Madison was in the office, hanging up the phone.
Mindy asked. "Aunt Madi, what do secretaries do?"
Madison blinked, thought for a second and slowly replied. "Well, most secretaries just answer phones, type letters and reports and file them. Assistants are more than that. They make schedules and keep them, along with the typing and so on, run errands. I guess you could say that such a secretary is their boss' connection to the world. Like a pipeline, you could say."
"Oh." Mindy remarked then wandered back out.
Madison was about to call her back but the phone rang, preventing her.
Over in Hangar 2 Dannigan was looking at the three 6x4x6 conex boxs standing open that held Lyssa's Racing Load-Out; three motorcycles, replacement parts and tools.
"WOW! Aunt Lyssa wasn't kidding!" Mindy remarked.
Dannigan nodded. "I'm surprised too. These were built for her back before I met her. She and Eddie are rebuilding them. A fake racing team, just go play with her old unit."
Mindy looked around to see if anyone else was with them then asked. "Uncle Paul, what do Directors do?"
The grizzled spook crouched down to her level and sighed. "That's a question not easily explained. I'll do my best though."
"Ok." Mindy replied.
Dannigan said carefully. "I protect secrets. I create secrets. I solve problems involving other agencies. I send people to do that. I find answers to questions. I control what people know. I do all these things to protect our country, protect ourselves."
"That sounds really hard and complicated." Mindy said.
Dannigan nodded. "It is. It's dangerous too. For me, and the people that I send."
"Like Aunt Lyssa, Aunt Maria and the others." Mindy guessed.
"Yes. It's dangerous for them. They go. Like I used to and still do, go. Like grandpa, mine, and your dad's father, went." Dannigan admitted then added. "It's all our hope, that you never go. We all want something different for you. Whatever it is, will be your choice, but we want you to be happy with it."
Mindy had a lot to think about. Slowly she turned and walked out. Dannigan watched and wondered if he gave her what she wanted, even though it was a candy-coated version.
Kimberly walked toward her daughter, sitting on a rock that faced the ocean. Mindy's 'thinking rock'. Kimberly sat up on it behind her and stroked her hair.
"Figure it out yet?" Kimberly asked.
Mindy shook her head. "No."
"So you went around and asked everybody what they do. Sweetheart, it isn't the time for you to do what you're meant to do. You still have a lot to learn before that. Right now, you do what you can. You can learn, so do that." Kimberly told her.
"If I do something different, nobody'll get mad?" Mindy asked.
Kimberly hugged Mindy close. "I watched Lyssa rehearsing one time, before you came. I was awe-struck. Quicker than I could blink, she spun around and her arm was out. I just barely heard the thunk and saw her knife quivering in the door. I thought my brain was going to turn inside-out. Not two seconds before, she had me so entranced that I had stopped breathing. I didn't want to do anything that would stop the moment. Then she showed how deadly she is. One, the other, both are her. My brain didn't want to put it together. Didn't want to function at all."
Mindy turned around and looked at her mother. "Really?"
"Then she looked at me and said 'Kim, all the world's a stage. Cast or crew, the show is there. I'm Cast. I can make time stand still for a little while. One day, I'll put on the greatest show on Earth. I'm going to stop hearts, freeze blood and melt minds. You can choose to be part of it or sit and watch. Your choice.' It took me a minute then I said, 'Part! I want to be part of it Lyssa!'. The world is a stage sweetheart, your show will come, and you will be Cast or Crew. I know, deep in me, that it will be great!" Kimberly told her daughter proudly. "You're my daughter, so it will happen."
Mindy sniffled, not even her birth mother had ever said anything like that to her. All she wanted was her new family to like her and they were constantly doing all they could to make her happy. They succeeded every day.
Kimberly kissed her forehead. "Come on. Tomorrow is a busy day, we have to go pack."
"Pack?" Mindy asked. "Where are we going?"
"CONUS. We're going with Lyssa to the test track so she can get her bikes ready. The Isle of Man race isn't too far off and that's going to be her next show." Kimberly smiled.
The next morning, Rodrick's C-130 flew away from the rising sun. Only Rodrick, Lyssa, Eddie, Kimberly, and Mindy were on board. They landed in Southern Utah at a small airfield. A flatbed 18-wheeler waited and was loaded with the conex boxes then followed them to the fenced in racetrack. After the boxes were unloaded, Lyssa changed into a set of black racing leathers and boots while Eddie and Rodrick brought out the motorcycles.
Kimberly set up two tables and with Mindy's help: computers, monitors, receivers and transmitters.
"Momma, why all the screens?" Mindy asked.
Kimberly answered with a smile. "There are cameras everywhere, we can watch her running the course. I have computers to monitor her and the bike. It's more than just get on and go fast. You'll see."
Mindy wandered over and watched as Lyssa checked over her racing gear and held out the helmet.
Lyssa smiled as she took it and ushered her over to the bike she was about to take out. "Looks cool, huh?"
Mindy nodded then asked. "What kind is it?"
"Buell Interceptor. Erik built these for me. They were secret. Nobody but me has ever ridden them." Lyssa confided then laughed. "The people that remember them are going to go crazy trying to figure out who I am and how I got them! This'll be lots of fun!"
Mindy giggled at that.
Eddie gave her a thumbs-up. "Ready on this one."
Lyssa went over and mounted the bike. "Kim?"
Kimberly called back. "Ready!"
The engine started and Lyssa dropped into gear and rolled out. Everyone gathered behind Kimberly and watched the screens. One showed a forward view from the bike and had what looked like a head's-up display in the corner. Lyssa was moving at 75 miles per hour and seemed to be going through the course at a leisurely pace.
"Eddie, you there?" Lyssa called over the radio.
Eddie put on a wireless headset and answered. "Yeah."
"Front suspension is too hard." Lyssa reported.
"Right." Eddie made note. "What else?"
Lyssa grunted then answered. "Rear suspension too. I'm turning back now."
Fifteen minutes later; she was back out and they were watching again. Same speed, but looked like she was wanting to go faster.
"Going to have to loosen it more." Lyssa reported. "Shit. I forgot. I was fifty pounds or so heavier, back then."
Eddie called back. "Yeah. That would be a big difference. Go on all the way around and bring it in then."
"What's all that mean?" Mindy asked.
Eddie answered, gesturing with his hands. "It means that the bike isn't traveling, moving up and down, enough. She hits a bump at high speed, she'll get thrown off the bike if it doesn't go off the pavement. By loosening the suspension, it increases the movement and gives her a more stable ride."
"Oh." Mindy said. "Why was it doing that?"
"Lyssa weighed more back when she used to ride these bikes. She weighs less now, that makes a difference." Rodrick explained.
When Lyssa came in, Mindy offered her a bottle of water. Lyssa drank while Eddie made the adjustments.
"This might be too soft, but I need a better starting point." Eddie said as Lyssa remounted.
Ten more times Lyssa came in for adjustments. Finally she seemed to like it and began to increase speed. Two laps and she came in again.
Eddie went over. "What's wrong?"
Lyssa shook her head in disgust. "I have to pee, of all things."
That made them all laugh. Soon enough, Lyssa was back out on the track. She made three laps, increasing her speed each time.
On the third lap, Lyssa called in. "Eddie. It's lagging. Wait."
They heard a loud pop over the radio and she announced. "Backfire."
Eddie and Lyssa worked together on the engine for half an hour.
"It is more complicated than just get on and go fast." Mindy affirmed, handing tools to Eddie and Lyssa.
Lyssa nodded. "Yeah. Racing bikes are temperamental. They demand constant attention. There. Got it."
A minute later Lyssa rode out again. The display showed she was increasing speed.
"YEAH!" Lyssa called out and went up to 150 on a straight then banked hard for a turn and came out, accelerating.
Her front wheel came up and she held it as the speed climbed.
Mindy giggled. "Aunt Lyssa wheelied!"
Eddie laughed. "Yeah. They do that a lot. Looks cool anyway."
Mindy watched one of the views of a track camera and saw Lyssa bank over hard for a sharper turn and gawked. "WHOA! How can she do that and not fall down?"
"Centrifugal force. She leans in and the force is trying to throw her back over. Like on a roller coaster, do a loop and the force holds you in the seat." Rodrick said.
Mindy then asked. "G's?"
Eddie nodded. "Exactly. She's pulling G's on the turns."
Several times Mindy saw the front wheel come up. It seemed to her that it was supposed to happen. It also looked like Lyssa liked it. On the next sharp turn Lyssa had slowed down, a pop was heard then she suddenly swore and they saw the bike go down. Lyssa and the bike slid in opposite directions.
"LYSSA! ARE YOU OK?" Kimberly demanded.
Lyssa groaned. "Ow. That fucking hurt. I'm ok."
"What happened?" Eddie asked as Rodrick went over to the truck.
Lyssa answered. "Felt a shimmy then the tire blew. Should've changed tires last time I came in."
"On our way." Eddie said then jumped into the truck with Rodrick.
Ten minutes later they came back, and Lyssa climbed down from the flatbed. They unloaded the bike from the truck, into its conex box. Eddie brought out another bike and quickly adjusted it to the same as the first bike. Lyssa rested for an hour while the data was reviewed, and more adjustments made. Then she went out again. A lap came in for adjusting and back out again. Two hours and she finally broke 200 miles per hour on a straight. Lyssa came in after that.
"Two hundred." Eddie said after she pulled off her helmet.
Lyssa took the water offered by Mindy and nodded after a drink. "Yeah, but I could only hold it for a few seconds then felt the power drop."
Eddie looked confused about that and went over to Kimberly's computer to review. He found what he needed and shook his head. It was going to be a late night.
Bright and early, they were all back. Lyssa was now roaring through the course.
"How fast is she going, Momma?" Mindy asked.
Kimberly replied firmly. "One-eighty. Her average is around one-forty to one-forty-five."
Rodrick nodded. "She's trying to find a groove."
Kimberly looked down and smiled. "Want to hear?"
Mindy nodded, so Kimberly turned on the feed. Hard-driving vocal trance came from the speakers. Labored breathing, grunts of exertion and growls of determination could also be heard.
"Wow! Aunt Lyssa sounds like she's wrestling a mountain lion!" Mindy commented.
Eddie chuckled. "Not far off, pipsqueak. More like; she's trying to break a bronco riding a rocket sled on a roller coaster track."
"With a cross-wind." Rodrick added.
Every three laps Lyssa came in to change tires, refuel, make an adjustment then roar back out. Soon she was launching out of the Pits with the tires screeching, smoking and the front wheel coming up slowly to hold until she reached one hundred miles per hour before coming back down.
"YEAH!" Eddie pumped his fist.
Kimberly smiled at Mindy. "She found it. Lyssa's in her groove. Now she'll really move."
All four stood glued to the monitors as speeds climbed higher than before, bank angles were steeper, and Time narrowed. Lyssa was riding more steady, less regard it seemed. She was becoming bolder in her moves. Three laps, a Pit and back out. Lyssa rode as if possessed. Or obsessed.
As the Snake-bend, a tight S-shaped curve, closed; Lyssa called in. "Clearance to Engage?"
That was when Kimberly really smiled and switched songs for her. "Twenty-seconds. Standby to Engage."
All eyes turned to her in confusion as Kimberly continued to smile then counted down the last five seconds until Lyssa entered the first turn then announced and turned up the music. "Cleared to Engage! GO LYSSA, GO!"
Previously Lyssa had been slowing down to take the turns at twenty-five to thirty miles per hour. All but Kimberly's jaw dropped as she took the two tight turns at fifty with perfect control as tires protested and came launching out like a missile. Within what seemed like only a heartbeat, she had cleared the Snake-bend, coming out of a cloud of smoke, and streaking down the lane at over a hundred and twenty on her back wheel and still accelerating. Minutes later she rounded a Hair-pin turn the same and hit the straight.
Mindy shook her head as Lyssa passed the quarter mile mark of the straight. "No way! She's doing two hundred. FOR REAL?"
Apparently, the mic was hot because Lyssa breathed in content. "It's as clear as the sky. CLEAR AS THE SKY, TO ME!"
Kimberly sang along. "I hear, my father call. Don't let silence fall. In your heart, I will rest with you."
Lyssa sang along going through a turn to come out, sounding strained, but in content. "I hear, my father call. I won't, let you fall. It's as clear as the sky. Clear as the sky; TO ME!"
Mindy saw Lyssa had shifted gears and the nitrous oxide had been triggered as the numbers jumped again, two-hundred and thirty-five miles per hour. A heartbeat later, the bike passed them with the scream of an engine giving its total worth. Mindy looked up to the monitor to see the numbers drop and bank angle indicator jump as the picture itself turned on its side. Another camera showed the bike almost flat to the surface and Lyssa's knee skimming the pavement with a hard protector.
"This is their idea of fun?" Mindy stared at the screen.
Rodrick patted her back. "Yep."
"Bat-stuff crazy." Mindy remarked.
Eddie smirked at her. "Like you ain't, on the soccer field."
Mindy had to giggle. She was very aggressive and used risky moves, but at most she would score and at the least, confuse opposing players. Soccer was a constant love, diving was her second and flying came in a very close third. Ballet was fun and helped her keep strong, but also gave her grace.
When Lyssa came in again, Mindy brought her a bottle of water. Eddie and Rodrick were changing the back tire then the front.
"Aunt Lyssa?" Mindy asked and at the nod asked. "Are you ok? It sounds like you're having it rough out there."
Lyssa smiled at her concern. "It isn't easy to do this. If I didn't exercise like I do, I'd have been jell-o by the end of the day yesterday. I'll be sore before we leave, but massage helps. The big trick is to keep moving or I'll cramp up."
"Mama said the British are coming again." Mindy changed the subject.
Lyssa nodded. "They came before. It'll be different this time since the island changed a lot since the last time."
Mindy frowned and Lyssa didn't miss it. "Are you worried about so many strangers?"
"Yes Ma'am. The island is all about secret stuff, and I'm secret stuff." Mindy explained.
Lyssa sighed and sat on her helmet. "Melinda, please stop that. You are very important. You, like all women in the world, have secrets. Trust me, you are backstopped like nobody else in the world is. Even better than me and my legend is beyond bullet-proof. The Brits are coming, yes. You have nothing to worry about. You've practiced your legend until it became reflex. They won't see through you, I promise."
Mindy seemed to settle down and asked. "What about Tammy? Is she coming with them?"
"Actually, she is. She's bringing her fiancé, Maisie, with her. The catch is, only Tammy knows she's been to the island before. Give a day or two and then you can be friendly with her. The main force will ignore you. Well mostly. Some of them are big on soccer so they might want to play on your practice field. The Special Boat Service guys will take interest when you dive, they're the British version of SEALs." Lyssa said.
"So; loud, rowdy and break stuff." Mindy remarked.
Rodrick overheard and laughed. "For the most part, but since they're Brits, they say 'I beg your pardon' a lot."
Mindy quipped. "Then they break stuff?"
"Then they break stuff." Lyssa grinned.
"Will we see Tammy at the race?" Mindy asked.
Kimberly nodded. "Sure. Two of her businesses are being listed as sponsors."
"Do I have enough now?" Lyssa asked.
Kimberly shook her head. "Eighteen. One more puts us at the mark. Five more would be better, but they'd require explaining."
"What about Nonnina and them? How do we explain them to the British?" Mindy asked.
"We don't." Kimberly said then went on. "We leaked some info for them to find and it suggests why they are on the island, but they won't be around when the British show up. They've already planned to be on leave. Maria is going to Washington, Anna and Angelica are going to Italy and the others are going to the Reservation to visit Bobby's family."
Mindy took that in then asked. "What about Aunt Krystal?"
"You mean Krystie Ellory, who works in billing and accounting for RamAir and Technology Consultant for Elegant Executive?" Lyssa grinned.
Mindy stared in surprise then tilted her head. "Has that been her cover the whole time?"
Lyssa and Kimberly laughed and said in unison. "Yep."
"And I didn't see it coming from a mile out." Mindy groaned. "You adults have too much fun coming up with that stuff."
Eddie called out. "Ok, Lyssa. Bike Three is ready. Bike One needs a new fairing but the engine is good. When we get back home, I'll fix that then repaint them all."
Lyssa got up, put her helmet back on and went out. Three laps, a pit and three more then came in. That was the final checkout of the bikes. Everything was reloaded for their return to the island.
Monday morning Mindy hugged her father then got out of the jeep at Lucaya International School and began walking to the front doors. Lucaya International School provided education to both Bahamian and foreign residents, usually expatriates. It had been chosen for her due to the large number of former American, Canadian, and British children. It ran the full range of grades; therefore, Mindy would remain there until graduation.
"MINDY!" A girl called out.
Mindy looked and smiled. "Hey Amanda!"
Together they walked inside the school, meeting up with another girl.
"Morning Jennifer." Mindy greeted.
Jennifer smiled and answered in her gentle accent. "Good morning."
All three were in the same class and had started at the same time. Being new to the school, the trio became friends fast. Amanda's family moved to the Bahamas from Winnipeg, Canada and Jennifer's family came from Sheffield in South Yorkshire, England. The main bond of the friends was their love for soccer.
"Do anything over the holiday?" Jennifer asked.
Amanda shrugged. "Granny came to visit."
"Went to the states." Mindy replied.
Trips to the U.S. excited her friends. "Ooh, tell us!"
Mindy shook her head. "Nothing special. Parts and stuff for the planes and helicopters. Some grocery stuff we can't get here too. Oh, and Aunt Lyssa had a meeting with some people about an ad campaign, or something like that."
Mindy reached into her backpack and pulled out two packets of cookies and offered one to each of her friends. "I got these."
Jennifer read the wrapper. "Billy Jack's?"
"It's a restaurant in Dallas. It has good barbecue. It was funny, the waitress went a little crazy when she realized Aunt Lyssa was at the table. She fan-girled over her." Mindy giggled.
Jennifer and Amanda giggled as well. They too had been awestruck at meeting Lyssa. Maria DeMarco charmed the girls on their first meeting. Mindy's friends enjoyed any time they were able to visit the island. Their favorite thing to do was, of course, playing on the beach. Carl had given them surfing lessons as well as snorkeling and diving. Soccer and water were their shared passions. Naturally, Amanda and Jennifer joined her in ballet school. Relishing guest teaching by Maria and Lyssa. Mindy was thrilled when her Aunt Tiffany was able to visit, even more so now that she had become a Prima.
Classes went by as usual and afterward was soccer practice. Mindy felt like she was racing the wind itself and could fly. True, she was the fastest on the team, but it was her highly risky moves trying to score that caught attention. The opposing teams had begun to try blocking her, so her mind worked fast, and she began using her flashy moves to pass instead. Because of the teachings by her parents, aunts and uncles, Mindy was able to work with her teammates to use subtle signals and calls during the match to change their plays.
During the coach's talk several of the girls became distracted and began nodding Mindy turned to look. Her mother was on the sidelines, watching, as was Tiffany.
"Alright girls, good practice. That's all for today." The coach said and waved them off.
Mindy ran for the sideline and hugged her mother and aunt. "Aunt Tiff!"
"Hey kiddo!" Tiffany smiled. "Looking snazzy out there."
Mindy smiled. "I do ok, but I'm not a ball-hog. I pass a lot."
"Uh-huh. The other teams figured out you were dangerous, didn't they?" Tiffany smirked.
Kim chuckled. "They did and doubled the coverage."
They turned and began walking to the parking lot.
Tiffany tugged at Mindy's ponytail. "For all the good that did them, right?"
"Right!" Mindy giggled.
"I saw a bunch of hand signals out there. Sounded like you use code words too. Mindy-girl, are ya'll being sneakier than the average girls' soccer team?" Tiffany poked at Mindy's side.
"Qui? Nous?" Mindy asked all innocently.
Tiffany wasn't buying the act. "Oui. Vous! Méchante fille. Play nice."
"I do. We still want to win though." Mindy laughed.
At the jeep Tiffany opened the back door. "In, lil' monster."
On their way, Mindy asked. "How long are you home for Aunt Tiff?"
"The week, then I go to the states for another week. I missed Mardi Gras in New Orleans." Tiffany griped.
Kim shook her head. "No bitching, you were in Rio."
"Yeah! Was Carnival fun? Aunt Lyssa said you were a guest. A...a...Marena? Oh, what do you call it?" Mindy struggled to find the word.
"Madrinha, sweetie. Godmother." Tiffany corrected her gently.
Mindy repeated. "Madrinha. Okay, but you were in a parade still. That's a big thing."
"She's playing it down so you wouldn't get all worked up, honey." Kim commented.
Tiffany turned to look at her niece. "Yes, sweetie. I was in one of the parades. A new samba school had formed and they're okay with non-Brazilians in their parade group. Two of the girls are models and know me, so they invited me to be in it. I walked with the drum battery, but I wasn't the queen or princess. The queen and princess are locals and hold the titles for a long time. The muse and godmother can be celebrities and hold the title once. At least for this school. Other schools have different rules."
"And she gave the school a big donation." Kim smirked.
Tiffany sat there smugly. "AFTER they invited me. I didn't buy the honor, but I made it worth them giving it to me."
"You got to be in a parade at the Sambadrome, right?" Mindy asked.
Tiffany nodded back. "Yeah. Before you ask; yes, there's video and you can watch AFTER dinner."
"After? Oh pooh!" Mindy pouted.
Tiffany smiled. "Homework done and dinner eaten, then you can watch the parade."
Mindy knew she couldn't win. "Okay."
"Hmm. Sounds like she isn't interested in her presents from London, Geneva or Rio, Tiff. Maybe next time she'll have more enthusiasm." Kim commented.
Tiffany hid her smile. "Guess so. You'd think she'd be more excited with me cooking dinner tonight."
"NO NO! I'M EXCITED!" Mindy protested. "Please, Aunt Tiff?"
Tiffany looked back. "Nihongo De."
Mindy understood she was to ask again in Japanese and did so. "Tiffany obasan onegaishimasu?"
"Sore wa haruka ni yoidesu." Tiffany said, meaning much better.
Mindy was used to her aunts and uncles suddenly breaking into another language to keep her skills up. In fact, her language skills came into use many times at school. As many students came from foreign countries and English would be a second or third language for them, Mindy ended up being asked to translate for them. In fact, those students in the same grade as her would be transferred into her class and a strong English-speaking student switched to another class. The only problem came when she had to translate into several languages at the same time. Then everybody would be confused, and she would have to go slower. Though she was a moderately nice person, there were those that had prejudices. They quickly discovered it was almost impossible to use another language to talk about her in the same vicinity.
"So, how's it going with the kids in school?" Tiffany asked.
"I've been behaving." Mind admitted.
Kim nodded. "The rowdier kids have learned not to mess with our Mindy."
"Oh, so no recent calls from the school about her fighting?" Tiffany laughed.
Kim shook her head. "After she broke that Turkish boy's fingers, that put an end to it."
"That was four months ago. What'd he do again?" Tiffany asked.
Mindy snarled. "The snot reached under my skirt tried to pull my panties down, in the middle of the hall!"
"He'd done it several times to other girls. You know the drill; the mother had no say and his father was the usual. 'Boys will be boys and girls should know to put up with them.' That old shit." Kim stated.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Oh. You never said what happened when the asshole showed up."
"Screamed and hollered for Mindy to be expelled. Wanted to whip her, blah-blah-blah." Kim waved her hand dismissively.
Mindy giggled. "Mama beat the crap out of him!"
"KIM! You didn't!" Tiffany started laughing.
Mindy nodded her head, still giggling. "Right there in the Principal's office! Two black eyes, busted his mouth, broke his nose and then she went to work on 'im! Nonnina was there too, and she threatened to skin him alive!"
Tiffany shook her head. "Madam Maria DeMarco just threatened? Since when?"
"Well, she didn't have anything in her hands, right then. Well, kinda." Mindy explained. "She had him by the jewels and said it while he was doing the whole whimper and snivel thing."
Tiffany was laughing. "So, he walked out funny."
"Not exactly. He pretty much crawled out. Things have been quiet ever since. For some strange reason." Kim shrugged.
Tiffany still laughed. "I miss all the good shit."
"You got to meet Tammy." Mindy reminded. "Mama told me you sent her tickets."
Tiffany knew they wouldn't tell her the actual story, so she went with that. "Yeah. I sent her tickets. She's nice. I like her. Jury's out on the fiancé, we didn't talk much."
"They'll be with the contingent coming soon." Kim informed her.
Tiffany looked back at her niece. "Hey. Be nice with the Brits, Cha. No fish in the bathtubs, crabs in bunks or alert sirens in the middle of the night."
"Or sharks in Lyssa's pool." Kim added.
Tiffany slid her sunglasses down a bit. "Oh, we're sharking the pool now? That's new."
"It was a baby one and I only did it to Uncle Pete." Mindy tried to play it down.
Kim looked back using the mirror. "It was a foot and a half long tiger shark and it bit him on the arm, Melinda Valerie."
"Ain't pulling that again anytime soon, are you?" Tiffany asked.
Mindy shook her head. She had spent a long time grounded on extra-duty for that, plus an actual spanking. All the younger residents on the island now understood where the line was drawn concerning pranks. Back on the island Kim returned to the office and Mindy helped Tiffany with her luggage. In Tiffany's cottage the sorting of laundry was followed by the unpacking of boxes that had shipped. Souvenirs and other items were placed on shelves and various other places while their significance was explained. A blooming thistle encased in clear resin was set on a shelf.
"What's that?" Mindy asked.
Tiffany grinned. "Oh, I picked this up in Thurso in a little shop by a real estate agent's office. There's a cute little boutique, too. Sells a lot of wool from the islands."
"You mean Tammy's office!" Mindy began to giggle.
Tiffany allowed her natural accent out. "Could be, Cha. You don't think that Sarah girl-buddy of Tammy ever mentioned some Fräulien come visit for skirts?"
Mindy was laughing now. "Probably not Tante Tiff! That's pretty funny nobody recognized you."
Tiffany sat Mindy down in front of her laptop and brought up pictures and both laughed. There were pictures of Tiffany in front of Tammy's office, the theater with an elderly man, with Sarah in her shoppe, in the Castletown hotel with Frances and even a picture in front of Tammy's house.
"Who's that?" Mindy pointed to the last selfie with a local woman.
Tiffany grinned. "Joan Smart, at the gate of St.Andrews school."
Mindy fell over laughing. She had peeked at Tammy's social media accounts and knew that was her school and the woman was her stepmother.
"And you’re telling ME to play nice with the Brits?" Mindy protested.
Tiffany arched an eyebrow. "Nobody got shark-bit in a swimming pool."
Mindy rolled her eyes. "No. You'd throw an alligator in it."
That night, Tiffany cooked dinner at the Lando cottage and afterward, played the video of the parade.
The next day after school Mindy made her usual stop at the DeMarco house. It was strangely quiet. Mindy found Angelica in the kitchen.
"Buongiorno." Angelica greeted her.
Mindy blinked. "Where are Nonnina and Miss Anna?"
The former nun answered. "They are over at Prima Lyssa's house again."
"Again?" Mindy was puzzled.
Angelica nodded. "Si. This project seems to be very involved."
"Gratzie." Mindy replied and started to head out but stopped. "Can I ask a question?"
Angelica nodded. "Si."
"Why don't you like people calling you 'Sister' anymore?" Mindy asked.
Angelica sighed. "I learned the hard way that not all tests of Faith come from our Lord, God. The church gives tests as well. This past test of my faith did not go well. Though I still pray and believe in God. I have learned several valuable truths. The first of which is even among those calming to be pious there are those who only seek to serve themselves. Because of this I no longer believe that my place lies within the church. I was faced with a hard choice to make. To follow my vows to my Order allowing myself to be manipulated by those above me or I can be true to myself and my honor. I choose the latter. In making that choice I discovered something else. I am not able to follow the way of Assassins, I am a thief. Yes, if my hand is forced, I can kill in self-defense. By helping your nonna and nonno I can be a thief that serves a greater good in the world. God will guide me to steal back things wrongfully taken and return them where they belong."
"Is that why you wear regular clothes and only go to church on Sundays?" Mindy asked.
"Si, Mindy." Angelica answered then gently cupped her cheek. "Please do not misunderstand. I do not hate God. Sometimes there are members of the church who are not true. For this, I do not trust the church. I have done things that I am asking God to forgive me for. I must serve penance. Remember stealing is a sin. Even when done for the greater good."
Mindy frowned. "I don't think I could be that nice about it."
"You are not me. You must do what your heart tells you. I must do as my heart tells me. You are still young Mindy. I hope you never know hatred. It is a poison for the soul." Angelica said then kissed her forehead. "Che tu possa sempre conoscere la pace di Dio."
"Gratzie, Angelica." Mindy said then left.
Mindy knew there had been some friction a while back and no one wanted to tell her about it. In fact, it had seemed that some kind of division had formed between the two groups. For Maria and Anna to both be at Lyssa's house to work on a project it had to be very serious. Mindy walked around to the patio to go inside and was surprised to see Warlock lying on the grass. The Belgian rolled to look at her and made a low sound similar to a groan then rolled back over. Mindy walked in and saw Kasey and Kistrine playing with the twins in the living room.
"What's up?" Kasey greeted.
Kristine smiled. "Hey there."
"Hi." Mindy replied as the twins all but threw themselves at her to hug. "Hey monsters."
"MIMI!" Alex and Ally squealed happily and attached themselves to her.
Mindy managed to get the two loose, asking. "Why are you two watching the twins?"
Kristine grumped. "Somebody has to."
"Yeah. We can't actually help in there." Kasey added.
Mindy was even more confused. "Where?"
Kristine pointed to the hallway. "In the studio. They're all in there."
"Like, all day, in there." Kasey said. "We haven't been trained enough yet."
"Yeah. We don't know enough dances. That's why we can't help." Kristine said then shrugged. "Sucks, but true. After they figure it out we might be able to help."
"Figure it out?" Mindy repeated then went to the studio in confusion. "Figure what out?"
Mindy stopped in the doorway. This was a sight she'd never seen before. Lyssa, Maria, Samantha and Tiffany were all in dancewear while Anna and Annette were sitting in chairs with notepads. None were actually dancing, they were all talking in ballet terminology and naming dance sequences. Lyssa being well versed in Balanchine and Vaganova, Maria specializing in Cecchetti and Vaganova and Tiffany who also was versed in Balanchine and Vaganova but was also studying the French School. In short, all three focused on two styles; Classical and Romantic. To see all three in the studio and seeming to be working in collaboration was beyond rare. It had only happened three times previously. Two secret training sessions for Kasey, Kristine and Mindy, the third for a charity performance to benefit a children's hospital.
Mindy smiled at that memory. All three had worn masks for the performance and never revealed their participation. Even Samantha and Annette had dance masked as well. Oddly enough, over three million dollars had been raised. Her current problem was that with four different methods being discussed, naturally four different languages were being used. Russian, Italian, English and French. The English was no problem and she understood most of the Italian, but only catching most of the Russian and a little of the French.
"They've been going at it all day." Kristine muttered behind her, holding Alison.
Mindy shook her head. "I don't get it, just what exactly is going on?"
"New production. All original. A producer Prima Lyssa knows called her." Kasey said while holding a squirming Alex.
Mindy followed her cousins in to sit along the wall and watch as Lyssa finally started to dance to a piece of music Mindy had never heard before. Mindy would look up to the notepad Anna held and could see diagrams for footwork draw. A glance at Annette's notepad had the narration of terms for each movement.
"This is really complicated." Mindy commented.
Anna nodded. "Si, piccolo. This is why so many dances today are simply variations of those created in the late eighteen-hundreds. It has been a long time since Donna Maria has worked on a production from scratch, as it were. Many days she almost began tearing at her hair. We were young then."
Lyssa had stopped and was listening to Maria describe a change of movements then go through them. After a few minutes a problem seemed to work out and Lyssa began the sequence again. The changes looked to smooth things out. Tiffany then took center floor and danced the sequence so Lyssa could see how it looked as well. Suddenly she was called to stop and a quick discussion took place. A suggestion was made by Samantha and another by Lyssa then Tiffany restarted. Both revisions immediately seemed to meet with approval. Tiffany danced the sequence again then Lyssa returned to centerfloor and danced.
Lyssa went up high into an arabesque and held it for a moment then swore as she fell over.
"Are you alright?" Maria asked in concern.
Lyssa nodded and moved to sit. "I'm ok."
"What happened?" Samantha asked, she had never seen Lyssa falter, much less actually fall before.
Lyssa began untying her ribbon-laces. "My shank snapped. Pop, fuck, floor. Another pair bites the dust."
"Those don't look that old." Samantha remarked.
Lyssa thought about it. "Two months? Maybe? I usually go through a pair every ten weeks or so, unless I'm doing a show."
Maria shook her head. "Yes, but that was before. You've been dancing more lately."
"There's that." Tiffany agreed.
Annette spoke up. "Still, you put a lot of hours on that pair. They hold up better than the ones you used to wear, don't they?"
"Yeah. These are the signature line. I won't gripe, they did hold up better. Time for a new pair, but I'm going to log the hours. Might be a selling point." Lyssa mused.
Maria smiled. "It would be. Perhaps we should take this as a good stopping point today?"
The group mutually agreed and the four began their cool down. Soon the twins began to demand Lyssa so she nodded. "Unleash the terror."
Kasey and Kristine patted the twins who then rushed their mother for hugs and kisses.
"Predator babies; cool." Tiffany snerked as the twins swarmed Lyssa.
Lyssa pretended to fallback from the twins, laughing. "Oh help. My position's been overrun. Rugrats have penetrated the inner perimeter!"
Warlock came in, saw the play and joined in. He used his snout to push the twins in separate directions, both on and off Lyssa then would jump back, crouch down and let out a 'bork'. The twins then took his challenge and began climbing over the Belgian. Soon Alison was on his back, like a horse and Alex was being held carefully by the back of his short-all.
"Better watch it, Warlock might just tote you two off and bury you with the chew sticks he has to hide from you." Lyssa quipped as Warlock circled the studio.
Everyone laughed at Lyssa's joke. It was true to a point. Warlock had resorted to hiding his chew sticks from the twins after they started crawling to keep them to himself. It had taken time for them to understand his food and water bowls weren't meant for them. All the fun had to stop when Ali's voice called out.
"Potty." Alison said, looking at Lyssa.
Lyssa was immediately on her feet. "Warlock. Nieder. Aus."
The tactical dog immediately laid down and released Alex's collar. Lyssa scooped up the twins and hurried upstairs.
"That training seems to be going well." Tiffany remarked.
Maria sighed. "Like all mothers, Lyssa did have to remember to be patient, but she has managed. I remember when Annette and Samantha had their time."
"Don't start again." Samantha groaned.
Annette nodded. "Definitely. Embarrassing us for the twins' sake is one thing Mother."
Mindy giggled. "None of that for me."
"Don't worry, piccolo. When the time is appropriate, we will invent some." Anna gave a sly grin.
Kasey and Kristine began laughing and nodded that they would also participate.
Maria looked over and smiled. "Tiffany, do you recall that time early on; our dear Mindy gave us the two-minute warning, fifteen minutes after it was needed?"
Mindy's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't, Nonnina?"
"Or that time poor LoneStar was playing horsey for her and she peed all down his back?" Samantha asked, looking at Mindy as if she were precious.
Tiffany shook her head as she hugged Mindy from behind. "How could any of us ever forget the first time she was taken to the ballet? Opening night and Kim had her on her lap. An eleven-hundred dollar gown; ruined in twenty seconds with the echoing announcement of I tinkle, Mommy!"
"That's so wrong." Mindy groused.
Annette grinned. "And what have we learned today?"
"You guys are just pure evil." Mindy glared up at her aunts.
The appraisal met with nods and grins while Kasey and Kristine continued to giggle.
"I miss something?" Lyssa asked walking back in with the toddlers following.
Kristine quickly volunteered. "Mindy smarted off that we don't have any potty-training stories about her."
"Yeah, so they started making 'em up!" Mindy complained.
"Oh." Lyssa replied then grinned at Mindy. "Write them down so we all have them straight."
Annette held up the notepad with a smile. "I took the liberty already. We just need thirty more."
Lyssa thought then said. "Well; not a potty story, but who all was there when she was One and puked all over my costume five minutes BEFORE the curtain went up?"
All raised a hand with a peal of laughter, Kasey and Kristine said in unison. "Showtime, Lyssa; BLAAAAH!"
Mindy pouted. "I'm never saying anything again."
When the laughter died down Mindy asked. "Aunt Lyssa, just what is this ballet about?"
Lyssa had sat down and the twins were climbing on and off her. "The concept story is pretty simple. A king is overthrown and killed which deposes the princess. She takes what guards are left and goes into exile. There she prepares to reclaim the kingdom and when ready, begins her march. Big battle and so on, she wins and reclaims the throne."
"That's all?" Mind asked.
"Don't pull Mommy's hair Ali." Lyssa corrected her daughter, then continued to Mindy. "That's the basic concept. I get the joy of filling in details. That's why everybody is in here. We've been coming up with ideas and then how to express it in a dance sequence."
Mindy thought then asked. "Where will it be performed?"
"It'll open in Vienna after Christmas." Lyssa answered then added. "If it can be finished. Otherwise, it'll have to wait until the following Fall."
"What about the race?" Mindy reminded.
Lyssa stopped Alex from pulling down the top of her dress. "Stop that. The only thing left is the team gear and give-aways. My new leathers will be here tomorrow. The bikes are repainted and have the sponsors on them.However, instead of four paddock girls, we have only three."
"The downside to being pregnant, can't parade around in skimpy stuff and heels." Annette said and rubbed her baby-bump.
Maria nodded. "Angelica doesn't believe she would feel comfortable in the wardrobe. Though she has the body for it, she is still self-conscious. She'll be in something less attention-drawing and posing as my assistant."
Kristine held her arms up in victory. "We can! Sis and I do the umbrella thing and pose at the gate."
"We're gonna totally rock the Paddock!" Kasey announced.
Mindy asked. "So just exactly do Paddock girls do?"
Lyssa explained. "They're the pretty faces for the team or a sponsor. They walk around and look good to get attention, in the team area they work the crowd; talking about the team or the sponsor they represent and give out the freebies. That's what Samantha, Kasey and Kristine will be doing before and after I launch. You have to stay in the team area, but in the front. The front is where Sam will be. The table of give-aways, literature and the monitors so the crowd can see my progress."
"Since your mom and Krystel are working the technical aspects, I'll be working PR. Because of the look Lyssa chose, we should get a fair amount of women and girls checking us out. Even more so when it gets revealed that Lyssa is the rider." Samantha grinned.
Maria chuckled. "Lyssa's identity will be revealed at the start of her second lap. This should be great fun."
"So who else will be in the team area?" Mindy asked.
Lyssa listed for her. "Maria and Angelica, representing her company. The Major will be there for his front. A rep for the dancewear line, one for the make-up line I signed to, the hair product line. Oh, the Valentino rep will be there."
Tiffany looked over. "Why Valentino?"
Lyssa sighed. "I forgot to mention I signed with Valentino. They're doing a new campaign for one of the perfumes."
This interested Maria. "Very nice. Which one?"
"Vendetta." Lyssa replied then added. "They're throwing in some wardrobe too. And shoes. I had to raise hell about that. The highest heels they sell are almost four inch. One-hundred millimeter. I told them no lower than a hundred and fifteen or I'll get shoes from Dalco in Rome."
"Dalco!" Maria laughed. "Oh Lyssa, that is so mean. They make excellent shoes and have for the rich and famous for over half a century."
"Really?" Kristine asked.
Anna nodded. "Of course. The Donna and I have talked with Sophia Loren and most of the De Laurentis women while waiting to be served at Dalco."
"It hit them hard. So, I'll be getting ten pairs of pumps, at my preferred height. They can choose the colors and style, but the heel is non-negotiable." Lyssa smirked.
All of them laughed. There simply was no way around a woman getting the shoes she liked. Lyssa liked Dalco, Maria went with Ferragamo, Krystel collected Prada, Annette and Samantha both liked Manolo Blahnik, Kimberly had developed a preference for Gianvito Rossi and Christian Louboutin. Tiffany was currently in a Casadei trend. Anna and Angelica had no real preference, simply going with whatever caught their eye. Shawna seemed to be sticking with Steve Madden but had several pairs of higher-end for when she needed them. Kasey and Kristine were erratic with their tastes.
"Does the perfume smell really good?" Mindy asked.
Lyssa nodded. "It's nice. I already had some in my collection, I just didn't wear it as much as Dior. Oh, everybody gets a bottle too. And a make-up kit and a selection of the hair products. You don't have to switch to them full-time, but it is asked for when we're there for the race."
"Even me?" Mindy asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Yes. You can wear full make-up on race-day. Kim already okay-ed it."
This news excited Mindy. It had only been a few times she was fully done up. That's when it dawned on her; she would be in full make-up and so on because she would be in view of the crowd and therefore advertising just like the others. A walking, talking, billboard for the sponsors. After thinking it over, it didn't seem so bad. Another thought popped into her head.
"So, all us wearing and using this stuff is advertising; do we get paid for it?" Mindy asked.
Tiffany laughed. "Oh, she's QUICK."
The other laughed in agreement.
Even Lyssa smiled. "Actually, yes. The team pays you, not the sponsors. Hardly any sponsors actually put in money, just products. The team doesn't need money, it's not real. But we do need sponsors so we look real. I made deals for products and so on, which makes them sponsors. I get the names and they get semi-free advertising."
"What about Tammy?" Mindy asked.
Lyssa nodded. "She gets her logos displayed and can hang out in the front area too. Free advertising for two of her companies."
Warlock perked up and woofed, getting everyone's attention.
Lyssa smiled at the twins. "Go get Daddy!"
Hearing their father was home, the twins squealed and rushed off as fast as their small legs could carry them.
"THERE'S THEM RUGRATS!" Rodrick's voice called out amid the twins' noise.
Moments later the ex-SEAL eased into the studio with a giggling child firmly clinging to each leg. "I've been captured again."
The women laughed in response. Lyssa walked over and kissed him.
Maria smiled and clapped her hands. "Come along. We all have dinners to prepare and homework, too."
"Come on, Kiddo." Tiffany said to Mindy.
That night, Mindy lay in bed, drifting off to sleep. The people that visited the island called it various things. To some it was a top secret garrison, a black hole of the covert operations world. In general, people called it a paradise. To Melinda Valerie Lando, it was the place where she always felt safe and loved. Ram's Rock Island was just simply home.
Author note:
For those curious about the music for the ballet, I made a youtube playlist specifically for it. Hope you like it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaNvVUW88X0&list=PLOGEXCc-_o...
Book 48 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!
Isle Of Man; Home of the most dangerous Race. This time though, It'll be Lyssa's greatest show on Earth. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers! |
Lyssa's Racing Track List
Suffolk, England; Mildenhall Air Base.
The conex boxes had been unloaded then trucked off the base and now sat beside a long trailer outfitted for a racing team, painted in white with pink team logos. Tuesday afternoon after two trips to Eglin Air Force base; Lyssa's racing Load-Out was loaded into a waiting C-5M Super Galaxy, followed by the Black Badges' EarthRoamer ALOC and F-350 One-Ton truck. LoneStar, Pete, Eddie, Carl, Bobby and Hunter would ride with the equipment to Mildenhall. Rodrick flew the rest in the Gulfstream direct to London. They followed the tourist trail to one famous landmark.
Mindy stared in wonder at the sight before her. "WOW! That's REALLY the Palace!"
Her mother, aunts and cousins agreed happily behind her.
"Girls. Look over there; we have incoming. Two o' clock." Krystel commented.
Kasey, Kristine and Mindy looked to see a group of red coated and tall hat wearing guards approaching. The Guard was changing. All three went silent and watched the ceremony. They even took pictures of each other with the ceremony in the background. After the Guards withdrew to their duties Lyssa nudged the girls.
"Let's go. We can catch the Life Guards' change next. They change hourly." Lyssa informed them.
Kasey looked confused. "Life guards?"
Maria nodded. "Those are mounted Guards. They change hourly so the horses don't get unruly."
Kristine and Kasey smiled and said in unison. "HORSES? Let's go!"
The group went around and found the Guard post. The girls took pictures of them then under careful instruction were able to take their selfies close enough but without disturbing the Guard or horse. When the Guard changed they recorded it as well. They then went on to see some more tourist attractions before splitting up for the night. Maria had access to a pair of Jaguar F-pace SUVs.She drove one and Anna drove the other. Lyssa and Rodrick rode in her Mercedes SUV with the twins. Kimberly was driving Tiffany's BMW SUV and Krystel was driving Tiffany's Lotus Evora.
That night the group descended en masse on the Vietnamese restaurant, led by Krystel. The staff greeted her as a long lost relative and were surprised that so many spoke Viet. When Rodrick admitted to being a SEAL, the old woman simply shook her head and gave him a pre-emptive scolding about destroying the building. Rodrick promised good behaviour, but told as many raunchy jokes as he could get away with. He was rewarded with several swats for them.
In the morning the group set out, driving to Liverpool. The other group had left Mildenhall at dawn. Carl and Eddie riding with Hunter and Bobby in the trucks while LoneStar and Pete flew in a rented helicopter set up for video relay. A German firm had rented an Agusta Westland AW109 to the team. During the race, LoneStar would fly and Pete would be the camera operator using the Isle of Man airport. They would arrive first. The truck pulling the race trailer had left as soon as it had finished loading. Large trucks were taken aboard the ferries at certain times due to their size and weight. The two groups met up outside the ferry terminal and entered together. Luckily they were able to board the same ferry.
Though questioned several times about where the group would be staying for the race, Lyssa and Maria gave no answers. When the vehicles drove off the ferry, Lyssa led the way out of the terminal a short distance then turned in at a sign for the Douglas Marina. Lyssa pulled into a space to park as did the others. Directly in front of them were two superyachts docked.
Samantha slid her sunglasses down then turned. "Okay, I give. How did the two of you pull this off?"
"Relax, dear. We didn't buy these. We're borrowing them. The one on the right belongs to an old friend of mine. Usually she rents it, but since I was asking, she lent it to me instead. As for the other, ask Lyssa." Maria chuckled.
Lyssa shrugged. "I did a shoot for a designer as a favor. I cashed in that favor."
Mindy looked from the yacht to Lyssa. "I'm starting to think that if you called in all your favors the world would stop, Aunt Lyssa."
"Not really." Lyssa said but amended with a smirk. "Just the important parts of it."
After a quick laugh luggage was unloaded and they boarded their perspective vessels. The girls excitedly ran around, exploring the state rooms, guest cabins and other amenities. Both yachts had onboard gyms, pools, spas, theaters, dining rooms, tenders, dive lockers, seadoos, a ski boat and other water toys. The yacht Lyssa and the military group were using had an area for Warlock to use for his 'business' that could be hosed off for convenience. After dinner, the twins were put to bed. Lyssa and Kimberly went into the office while everyone else relaxed to enjoy the evening.
"The truck will be on the midnight ferry." Kimberly said looking at her laptop.
Lyssa nodded. "Good. The morning ferry is a zoo. Or it used to be."
"They save all the rigs and big RVs for the night runs. When he rolls up to the staging area he'll get a guide to take him over to our location." Kimberly continued.
Lyssa looked up to a screen. "The spot they gave us isn't bad. Our front end location is better. A lot of people will pass it to get to the real teams."
"Only Kasey and Kristine can go into the pits?" Kimberly asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Yeah. Mindy won't be allowed in during activity. Before and after only. The twins will stay in their playpen in the trailer. Anna will watch them. Warlock will be kept in there too."
Kimberly nodded. "Annette may want to stay in the trailer too. Noise, fumes and the heat may get to her."
"My dressing area is big enough. It's pretty much a lounge." Lyssa replied.
Kimberly tapped her pen on the desk. "I have confirmation that all the reps will be here by next Friday morning and they all have rooms."
"What about the packs?" Lyssa asked.
Kimberly checked. "Some were delivered today. The remaining arrive tomorrow. Everybody and everything will be ready for race day."
"What about Shawna?" Lyssa asked.
"They landed thirty minutes after we took off. She has control of the island. The kids and Blake are enjoying having a whole island to themselves. Nothing to worry about." Kimberly smiled.
"Good. What about my local PR?" Lyssa asked.
Kimberly looked at her screen. "There are several dance studios around. You, Maria, Samantha, Annette and the girls can visit them. As far as I know, none of your merch has made it here yet, so you should visit at least two or three schools to introduce it."
"Print up a list. I'll get with Maria after breakfast." Lyssa said. "Sunday I have to focus on race prep. From Monday on, I have no time for much of anything but that."
The rest of their meeting was spent confirming local logistics for the race.
Friday afternoon found Lyssa, Maria, Annette, Samantha, Angelic, Kasey, Kristine and Mindy at Academy of Dance in Douglas. The Dance Mistress was overjoyed when the group entered. The class gawked in awe. Of course, a show was put on for them. Mindy performed the Fairy Doll variation. Kasey and Kristine performed from Don Quixote. Kasey performing Esmeralda and Kristine the Kitri variation. Samantha danced a Cinderella variation. She liked it because it was very fast. Maria stepped out and danced a Coppelia variation, stunning the young ballerinas into silent awe. Lyssa danced an Aurora variation to everyone's surprise.
Lyssa then explained about the dancewear line she now used and promised a fitter would come to visit. Every girl would receive two pairs of new pointe shoes. A pair for studio and a pair for performance. The studio version were stiffer to last several hours and the performance version was softer to minimize noise and maximize flexibilty. Lyssa and Maria, like all professionals, were known to kill a pair of shoes with just two or three wearings. It was highly practiced to bring a pair of shoes to almost destruction in the studio then save them for the stage performance to end them. For girls still in classes and not a troupe member, cost was always an issue. Good pointe shoes cost an average of eighty dollars per pair. Girls learned and used every trick they could to get the most out of their shoes.
"Excuse me." A twelve year old asked Lyssa. "I never though I'd ever meet a Prima here, but you and Madam Maria are both here. How does that happen?"
Lyssa smiled as the whole class gave her looks of excited curiosity. "Can you keep a secret?"
"YES!" The girls answered with enthusiasm.
"I'm here for the race." Lyssa answered.
The dance mistress looked confused. "It is an international race, but I don't see how you could be interested in it."
"Because I'm in it. I'm the rider and team owner. Maria is a sponsor." Lyssa grinned. "I'm riding the Unlimited Experimental class."
"You're joking, right? You have to be mental to race the TT." One girl blurted out.
Mindy giggled. "Not joking. Might be right about that mental part, though."
"Come watch me. I'll put on a show you've never seen before." Lyssa said then walked over to the pair of boxes they had brought in and opened one.
When Lyssa held up a slim-strapped white top with pink logo the girls gasped.
"Butterfly Racing Innovations is the team. I could do with a bit of local support." Lyssa announced.
Kasey and Kristine opened the other box and held out some trinkets. "What do you say?"
The group of girls squealed in delight at the offer of cute free things and rushed forward to get them. Lyssa, Maria and Samantha handed out the shirts and visors while Kasey, Kristine and Mindy handed out necklaces with a clear plastic butterfly pendant with lights inside. Along with the necklaces there were also keyrings, small packs of lipgloss and sunglasses. The normally stoic Angelic found herself smiling at the girls excitement.
Maria smiled then called the girls' attention. "Girls? Remember now, Lyssa racing is a secret. We don't want people to know until it's announced during her second lap. Alright?"
"Yes, Madam Maria!" The girls chorused.
Samantha nodded. "Very good. Come visit our Team Front area on race day and there'll be more stuff we give out. Remind us you're from this studio and get something extra special!"
After the boxes were empty Maria clapped her hands and called the class to the barre. Every girl happily put all their effort into their work that day. The dance mistress almost cried to see the girls so happy. After the class many selfies were taken and Angelic took a group picture to commemorate the visit. Annette was able to pose in a way that hid her pregnancy and was happy about that.
Sunday night the entire group had dinner outside on the aft deck aboard the yacht Lyssa was using. The yacht was made by Lurssen in Germany and was a sister hull to Ace, an 87 meter superyacht. During dessert Lyssa suddenly bolted from her chair, Warlock leaped to her side and began growling.
"Oh you assholes." Lyssa stated flatly and relaxed.
Men sprang from each side into view and began laughing.
Though not laughing, Noc didn't hide his smirk. "Any of that cake left?"
"That wine is what I'm interested in." Kilo commented.
Maria shook her head. "Lyssa, your former compatriots have a very pronounced lack of manners when it comes to dinner."
"Le nostre più sincere scuse, mia signora, mi sto solo divertendo." Adonis apologized to Maria and kissed her hand with a devilish grin. "Buonasera; Donna Maria."
"I wonder who told you about that?" Annette asked.
Adonis grinned. "Somebody in Milan loves gossip."
"Aunt, who are these men? I see three who were on the island once, but the others are strangers." Angelic stated.
Blitz gave Lyssa playful push. "You could say we're her brothers."
"Yeah. She's our BELOVED sister." Getaway hugged Lyssa.
Lyssa shook her head and pushed him back. "OFF. Everytime you shits are around, I feel like I'm babysitting and not getting paid. Hold up. One short. Where is he?"
"Whisper's in the parking lot. He had a call." Madelaine answered.
Whisper walked up the stairs into view. "I'm here now."
Bobby was over shaking hands in the 'bro' style with Kicker. "Nice to see you."
"Angelic, these guys are our competition for the race." Lyssa explained. "Fury Racing."
Angelic still seemed confused; first they were siblings and now they were competition, yet their presence wasn't unwanted.
"Mind if we have some?" One of the men asked, holding up a bottle of whiskey.
Lyssa shrugged. "I guess so, but that lock better be in working order."
"Drift, was that cabinet locked?" Whisper asked.
Drift shrugged. "I don't remember."
"Be nice to Immortal's boat." Kilo reminded.
Lyssa shook her head. "Be very nice, it isn't my boat. I borrowed it."
Blitz laughed. "We wondered how you got it. Don't these go for fifty million or so?"
"A hundred and fifty million." Lyssa answered.
A chorus of "holy shit" went out.
Adonis looked over to Maria and pointed to the Benetti yacht. "Did you 'borrow' Valentina's yacht too?"
Maria smiled. "Oh, you know dear Val?"
"We've, uh, met." He nodded.
Maria laughed. "Naughty boy. I'm surprised she let you go!"
Clean laughed. "When he heard she had a priest comin' he hauled ass!"
Annette began laughing. "I'm surprised she didn't chain you to her bed."
"Damn near." Adonis shivered.
The head stewardess came out and noticed the group of men. "Oh my. Should I bring out more cake Prima Lyssa?"
Every one of the DemonWraiths called out. "SURE!"
"If it's not a bother, Victoria." Lyssa sighed.
Victoria smiled and replied in her Australian accent. "Not at all, Ma'am. I'll see right to it."
Two hands came out to add chairs but were waved off by the men. They were content to enjoy the cake and Merlot standing around or in other seating. Somehow though Maria had sneakily put Drift beside Angelic. Soon she admitted to being a thief but he merely claimed to be an entry specialist. Bobby and Hunter talked with Kicker and Clean. Kimberly was talking with Madelaine while Krystel talked with Quest.
"So who's the new face." Lyssa asked nodding to the young man standing beside Kilo.
Noc answered. "If he makes it through Kill-zone; he'll be called Breezy."
"He's a jumper and crazier than your ass is." Blitz remarked then shook his head. "That goofy fuck can fly a damn wingsuit up to sixty miles and land without a chute. On the ground. Damnedest thing I ever saw."
"Oh he fits right in." Lyssa smirked. "I'd call him Windy though."
Blitz, Noc, Whisper and Rodrick turned to look at the man in question and smiled malevolently.
He noticed the group and looked concerned. "What? I didn't do anything."
"Nothin'." Blitz continued to smile. "Windy."
"Looks like you're name's been picked out." Kilo remarked then added. "Windy."
Windy thought about then looked over at the group angrily. "With an I or an E?"
"An I, you'd have to shave to pull off an E." Lyssa grinned.
Windy though about it then asked. "Shave what?"
Everyone answered together. "EVERYTHING!"
"No way!" Windy protested then looked over to Madelaine. "Did they do this shit to you too?"
Madelaine shook his head. "They're going easy on you. I had it worse."
Cake eaten and wine drank, Whisper called their attention. "Alright guys. They entertained us, we didn't break anything. All's good. Race prep starts tomorrow. Ladies, gentlemen; thanks for having us. Usual stakes, loser buys the booze. May the best team win."
"That'll be us." Blitz nudged Lyssa.
Lyssa swatted him. "No, US!"
Adonis patted Kasey and Kristine on the shoulders and smiled to Angelic. "Could I interest you three in being paddock girls for the winning team?"
Kasey gave a sweet smile back. "We already are!"
"I shudder to think what you would have us wearing." Angelic commented.
Adonis gave a sincere look. "I promise; the important parts would be covered. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe?"
"I don't think the good sister would go for it." Samantha giggled at Angelic's blushing.
Drift turned. "Wait. You're a NUN?"
"Si." Angelic answered and held up her rosary around her wrist.
Drift immediately went face down on the table. "Somebody is so wrong, right now. I been hitting on a Nun this whole time."
Maria chuckled. "Fear not. My niece has enjoyed conversing with someone of the profession. You treated her no different from any other woman."
"You have committed no sin, my new friend." Angelic said.
"YET." The other DemonWraiths laughed.
Adonis pulled Drift by the arm. "Come on. Let's go before you develope a complex, blaspheme or something of the like."
Angelic asked quickly. "You are not Catholic as you did not notice I am. May I ask what religion you all practice?"
"Drift is one of three that practice a religion, Sister." Whisper answered then looked over. "She won't hate you for it."
"I come from Scadanavian people. Loki is my god; the trickster and thief." Drift explained, he left out any remark about further heritage. "Good night."
Whisper stayed until the last of them disembarked. "He didn't intend any disrespect Sister."
"Does his whole family worship the same?" Angelic asked.
Whisper sighed then turned to leave. "They did."
Angelic looked Lyssa. "Do they not anymore?"
"They died." Lyssa clarified. "No member can have living family. No parents. No siblings. No spouse. No children. They must be alone."
"Men that would not be missed." Angelic remarked then realized the meaning. "You mean to say; those men? All of them? They are suicide soldiers?"
The unwavering silent look from Lyssa answered better than any words could.
Angelic crossed herself. "God; forgive and grant them mercy."
Maria nudged her. "Come along. Tomorrow begins many busy days for us."
True to her words, the next morning began preparations for the race. LoneStar and Pete coordinated with the control tower for the flights. Rodrick and the rest of the men worked as Lyssa's pit crew. Kimberly directed Samantha, Angelic, Kasey and Kristine in setting up the remote cameras around the course. Krystel set up their computer systems. Maria and Anna were conducting virtual meetings with contacts all over the world. Annette and Mindy watched over the twins. In the afternoons, the course was shut down to traffic for the riders to practice. On the first morning Lyssa took a bicycle and rode the course. Kasey, Kristine and Mindy giggled, calling it a 'mommy-bike'. It was a typical cruiser type, but after they inspected it they found the tires were actually solid rubber, not air filled. Lyssa explained that it would reveal the texture of the road surface. Every bump and imperfection of the road would be felt for her to remember.
Friday morning, vans arrived and a crew of women began unloading.
"Who are they?" Maria asked.
Kimberly smiled. "Tiara Technology Support Services, London. The red-head in charge is the owner, Laura. Hi Laura!"
"Kim! Great, you're here!" Laura greeted them. "Hello, I'm Laura."
"Maria DeMarco, a pleasure." Maria greeted then gestured to Angelic. "My assistant, Angelic."
"Buongiorno, Laura." Angelic greeted.
"Laura is providing our audio-visual presentation." Kimberly explained.
Laura nodded. "Oh I brought the best! I have a great set up planned. Plenty of monitors. I have one main large screen surrounded by eight smaller screens then nineteen screens for all your representatives."
As they were speaking four more vans arrived. Three cargo vans and a passenger van. Maria took note all of the workers were women and smiled. These businesses were members of Elegant Executive. Immediately vans were unloaded and the Front area for the team was being set up. Two small canopy areas with a table and chairs for meetings, a large canopy with tables at the front and sides. Speakers were hung at the corners. A bank of monitors were set up slightly back from center of the area. Small monitors were set up on the tables. Paper signs were hung on the backside of the table to indicate where the representatives would be stationed. By noon the white and pink area was drawing attention. Even more so when the banner was raised; Butterfly Racing Innovations.
"I'm impressed already." A familiar voice said behind Maria.
Maria was smiling before she even turned. "Paulo."
They hugged and shared a kiss. Annette and the girls came over for greetings as well. Madison was there and was swarmed with hugs.
"This is coming together fast." Dannigan remarked.
Maria chuckled. "Naturally. We made use of members of our service. Of course they are being paid for their services, but it is good advertisement as well. All of the sponsor representatives should be here by this afternoon."
A whistle went out and people moved aside for Hunter to drive the one-ton truck up to the area.
"We brought the first load of stuff." Carl announced getting out.
Immediately several hands joined in unloading the truck of boxes. Two more loads were brought in.
Mindy looked at the stacks of boxes for each sponsor. "Think we have enough?"
"I don't know honey. I hope we don't run out, because we won't be able to get more in time." Kimberly answered while checking her list.
Angelic shook her head. "When I went for a walk, I saw a big trailer for Monster. It was filled with many boxes and they were talking about a second. Monster, the drink, si?"
"Si. The energy drink. They sponsor all kinds of things so yeah, they need to have a lot of stuff to give out. Shirts, hats, drink holders and all that stuff." Kasey remarked.
Samantha immediately scolded Kasey and Kristine. "Neither of you need any Monster, you're hyper enough as is."
The two giggled. "Yes Ma'am."
A woman walked up. "Am I late?"
Kimberly looked up. "No Veronika. You're good. If you're ready, take over here. Everybody, you all remember Veronika? She's the head of Elegant Executive's Eventing curriculum."
Kimberly went back to the Pits and Veronika took over the Front area operations. Madison introduced herself as the rep from Global Resolutions, Dannigan's front. Samantha would handle all the Team materials and supervise the girls. Angelic would work directly with Maria's business; Ballerina International. Maria had an open agenda. She would be having meetings with some people, but none of it related to racing. It was mostly checking in with some of her European interests. Dannigan had no announced agenda, but it was assumed he would be working in some fashion. Spymasters didn't visit foreign countries to simply enjoy the sights.
A glance down the way found the DemonWraiths area, Fury Racing, being set up.
"I wonder who the girls are working their area?" Kasey asked.
Dannigan shook his head. "No idea, Kasey."
"They may have hired them from an agency. One of the men is a model." Maria reminded.
Suddenly they saw Whisper turn, look their way then start walking toward them.
"Nice to see you again, Sir." Whisper greeted Dannigan then addressed everyone else. "Ladies. This looks very nice!"
Dannigan nodded. "Your crew looks motivated down there, Hamilton."
Whisper grinned at his cover name. "Special Services, they're treating it like a working vacation."
"How long did it take to talk them into it?" Samantha asked.
"About twenty seconds after a certain somebody walked up and smiled." Whisper answered and nodded past them.
Adonis stepped up and grinned. "They didn't even balk at their outfits for tomorrow."
"Michaelson, I hope they won't be sporting bikinis that would get them arrested." Dannigan cautioned.
Adonis laughed. "No sir. We're keeping the uniforms rated for general public."
Three older teens ran up and immediately asked Adonis for selfies, to which he obliged.
"Guess I better find a less visible place to be or I'll end up doing my version of the pied piper!" Adonis laughed and made his way off.
Maria shook her head. "That man revels in the attention."
Whisper looked to Dannigan. "Could I have a few minutes, sir?"
"I saw a coffee stand." Dannigan nodded then kissed Maria's cheek. "Excuse me."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. Go with your cloak and dagger lunacy. But you and I will be having lunch soon."
"I won't be long, Ma'am." Whisper assured as they left.
Dannigan returned a few minutes later, still drinking a coffee.
"Is it good?" Kasey quipped.
Dannigan shrugged. "It's a bit weak for me, but a lot better than the sludge Rodrick and his bunch make."
All the women laughed at the truth of his statement.
"Madam Maria; why don't you two go ahead and take lunch. We have enough hands and later on the girls can have their time." Veronika suggested.
Maria nodded. "Thank you."
"I'm surprised Lyssa wasn't there." Dannigan remarked as they walked.
Maria shook her head. "She and Eddie are fine tuning her equipment. Though she claims this is just for fun, she does seem determined to make a proper showing."
"I'm wondering if this is going to be a one-time thing. Now, where are we going?" Dannigan asked.
"A quaint bistro called Refuge. I think you'll like it." Maria smiled.
Minutes later they arrived and were lucky to go directly to a table. After consulting the menu, the waitress took their orders. During the meal they exchanged small talk and love-banter. Dannigan was about to signal for the check when a familiar face sat down at the next table and shook his head.
"I never imagined to find you here." Karl Ferdinand remarked.
Dannigan regarded him and replied. "I think that should be my line, Karl. Aren't you out of uniform as well, Arch-Bishop?"
"Shh. Not so loud. I also was promoted." Ferdinand replied in a low voice.
Maria's eyebrows shot up. "Cardinal?"
Slowly he nodded. "Yes. His Holiness has decided it best that my orders not filter through bureaucracy."
"I'm in debate as to congratulate or offer condolences." Dannigan dead-panned.
Karl sighed. "I'll take both."
"He meant for his Holiness." Maria snarked, but crossed herself.
When the Cardinal face-palmed, Dannigan smirked. "Walked right into that one, Karl."
The Cardinal looked up. "Forgive them, Lord, for they have the blessing of competent subordinates and lack of administrators."
Dannigan and Maria laughed gently.
After Karl placed his order with the waitress, Dannigan asked. "So what are you doing here?"
"Looking into the affairs of a Carolingian." Ferdinand answered quietly. "He disappeared."
Dannigan looked to Maria. "I'm not familiar with that order."
Maria shook her head. "If memory serves me; that order delved into the occult and also perform exorcisms. I didn't think there were any left."
"Much of that is dealt with by another order, mostly debunking such things. There are a few left. Mostly they investigate and secure, shall we say, items and materials that are dangerous." Karl explained.
Maria understood and translated. "Such as writings of supernatural, like spellbooks and objects to perform unholy ritual."
"You're serious?" Dannigan asked.
Karl nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I've never tried any of it, nor have I seen any phenomenon, but a believer can commit atrocities in their efforts. By locating and securing such things, we prevent those atrocities. I prefer dealing with things I am familiar with, which are bad enough, I now have this as a duty. I cannot ignore it. Those who pursue the arcane arts are just as dangerous as those who pursue wealth and influence."
"Well then your guy must have been pretty high up for you to come personally." Dannigan surmised. "Or was it what he was chasing down?"
"Both. As for my, excuse, one of the racers is very devout and had written in about receiving a blessing before the race. I can do that, so here I am." Karl summed up. "I never thought either of you would be interested in this sort of thing."
Dannigan shrugged. "Makes me look legit as a business. She is legit, so it works out for her."
The waitress brought the check and Dannigan paid, leaving a generous tip.
"Nice seeing you Karl. Good luck, hope you find your man." Dannigan said and reached over to shake hands.
"Thank you, Paul." Karl returned the handshake then nodded to Maria. "Maria. Andare con Dio."
Subtly he marked the cross, to which she crossed herself. "Gratzie Eminenza."
Outside, Maria looked to Dannigan. "I do not envy your friend."
"Neither do I. Bad enough dealing with what we do, but the voodoo, bogeyman and hocus pocus bit is a tiger of another stripe. Glad we don't have to get into it." Dannigan sighed.
Dannigan and Maria returned to the Team front area and found Lyssa there talking to some people. Maria had a quiet word with Angelic. It seemed all the merchandise was there. Lyssa and three reps were going through boxes.
"Veronika. Take them to lunch." Lyssa called out.
Veronika nodded then rounded up the crews and led them away. Lyssa finished with the reps and went over to Dannigan.
"I can't believe you got here so soon." Lyssa commented.
Dannigan nodded. "Yeah. Lucked out on that. This looks great."
Lyssa looked back. "It won't be really finished until later today. Tomorrow this place should be packed. We visited some dance schools and put the quiet word out."
"These club members you called in do good work fast." Dannigan nodded to the area.
Lyssa nodded. "Yeah. I hope they had the time for it, I hate to think they just dropped everything or passed up jobs to come out."
"I thought you're paying them?" Dannigan asked.
"Oh we are. It's just that they shouldn't put off real jobs. I'm paying them above rates and this might get them some good exposure, but that doesn't take the place of actual jobs that gets them word of mouth referrals by real people." Lyssa reminded.
Dannigan nodded. "Fair point. When do all the reps show up?"
"There's a meeting this afternoon. So far nobody has called to be late so when they check in at the hotel, they'll get their instructions to come here. Veronika has them from there on out. We have you and Maria listed for open agendas. You're here but doing your own thing. Madison handles your traffic, Angelic handles Ballerina Internationals. Diane from EE's PR department is working that rep position. Rachel from EE is working the RamAir position. All other sponsors have their own reps." Lyssa explained.
Maria nodded. "That's the big meeting this afternoon, yes?"
"Right. Tonight is a dinner aboard my yacht. You and the major can skip it if you want some time." Lyssa offered.
Maria smiled. "That's very thoughtful, but I think we'll attend. Is it casual?"
"Yeah. After the traveling, meeting and so on, I doubt anybody really wants to go all out. Tomorrow night, after the races, I think we should go for more upscale." Lyssa smiled. "Celebrate OUR VICTORY and all that."
Dannigan and Maria noticed she had looked to side saying the last part with a grin. They turned to see Blitz walking by, flipping Lyssa off. All three laughed in response.
Just before Three that afternoon a large group, mostly of women, entered the Front area.
Veronika greeted them and directed them inside to a seating area. Maria and Dannigan sat off to the side watching people enter. Two younger women in matching white skirt suits saw Dannigan and nodded to him, which he nodded back.
"Are those the Scottish girls Kimberly mentioned, real estate and executive pilots?" Maria asked quietly.
"Mhmm." Dannigan replied just as quietly.
Maria visually inspected them then remarked. "Quite charming. That's a wonderful look they have."
"The one on the left is the realtor and pilot. On the right is her fiance." Dannigan explained.
When all the seats were filled, Veronika stepped to the front and began naming people and their service, who stood up and greeted the others.
"Tamara?" Veronika looked to Tammy.
Tammy and Maisie stood up. "Tammy, please. Tammy Smart. Smart Properties and KT Flight; Thurso, Scotland. A pleasure to be here and meet you all. This is Maisie, my fiance. She serves as an air hostess on KT Flight and has her own Personal Training service; MS Fitness."
"Nice to meet you all." Maisie greeted.
After the last rep was introduced Veronika then directed everyone's attention to Maria and Dannigan. "Here we have Maria DeMarco of Ballerina International. Maria is also an executive board member for EE. Her representative is Angelic DeMarco."
Angelic stood up smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Bongiorno. Good afternoon, it is a pleasure to meet you all."
"Next to Madam Maria is Mister Paul Dannigan, Global Resolutions." Veronika introduced.
Dannigan stood up. "Thank you Veronika. Hello everyone."
Tammy had to hide her smile behind her hand at hearing his introduction.
Veronika continued. "Madison Dietricht is Mister Dannigan's rep."
"Hi, please just call me Madison." Madison was all smiles.
For the next half hour Veronika gave them a presentation that seemed a lot like a military briefing. After that, Veronika directed the group to the actual front area to line each rep at their station. Underneath the table were boxes. Business cards, brochures, and give-aways.
"A supplemental set of these are being sent to your offices, along with order forms and instructions for replacements. They should arrive Monday." Veronika informed them.
Tammy began going through her items and was very surprised. She had three sets of cards. One for Smart Properties, one for KT Flight and one with both. Maisie was surprised to find the same; KT Fight, MS Fitness and one for both. For their give-aways there were pocket-planners, calendars, travel cups, pens, sunglasses and keyfobs. For their own use; a personalized four section business card case.
Maisie looked over. "They really went all out!"
"Lyssa wasn't kidding when she said to just show up, they'd take care of everything." Tammy nodded.
Veronika interrupted them. "Wait! Don't set up yet."
Everyone stopped what they were doing. Some were already starting to lay out things on the tables.
"I have a station plan for each of you, but if you start now, everything may be all over the place by morning. Please set up in the morning." Veronika asked.
Those that had begun to set things out quickly put them away. After a few minutes everyone began to explore each others packs, swapping ensued thereafter.
Tammy wandered over to Dannigan and muttered under her breath. "Global Resolutions, Uncle?"
"I did say I was in the resolution business." Dannigan quipped.
Maria rolled her eyes. "You have absolutely no shame, Palo. Hello, Tammy was it?"
"Yes Ma'am, Tammy Smart. You're Maria DeMarco?" Tammy asked shaking hands with Maria.
Maria smiled. "Yes. You look wonderful in that suit, dear. Do you wear that for your flight service?"
"Oh yes and thank you. So does our other female pilot. The male pilot wears navy slacks. The feedback is very positive." Tammy smiled.
Maria leaned closer. "The cut of the jacket hides the Glock at your back nice enough, but the one on your thigh shifted while you were sitting. Don't worry. Only myself, Angelic and Palo noticed. Shake left hands with her to hide adjusting it back."
Tammy turned and shook hands with the younger woman beside Maria and shifted the thigh holster to ride centered on the back of her thigh.
Maria looked thoughtful for a moment. "Smart? That name sounds familiar. Are you also in Banking?"
"No Ma'am, but my father was. Richard Smart." Tammy answered then asked. "Do you know him?"
"I don't recall doing any business with him, but the name does sound familiar. I may have met him in passing. I conduct quite a bit of international business." Maria said then reassured her. "Don't trouble yourself over it, dear."
"Has that academic situation been taken care of?" Dannigan asked.
Tammy nodded then smirked. "It's been... resolved, Sir."
Maria chuckled. "Very nice. She got you, Palo."
"Very funny." Dannigan remarked. "Sean better not show up. He'll drag us out for drinks and in twenty minutes, I need subtitles for him."
Tammy shook her head. "He didn't mention being here. Some of The Lads might be, but I doubt I'll know them or they know me. Others may be about, but as to whom, I have no idea."
Maisie called for Tammy.
"Please excuse me. Ma'am, so nice meeting you. You as well, Angelic, was it?" Tammy asked shaking hands again.
Angelic nodded. "Si. Ciao, Tammy."
Maria smiled. "She's a nice girl. Do keep her from becoming as insane as the rest, please."
"That's up to her. Though she might turn psychotic if the Brits don't treat her right from now on." Dannigan commented. "She's a good kid, despite the bad breaks she had before. Don't worry, Maria, Kimberly and Krystel have her covered."
At Six the group broke to return to the Guest House and prepare for the dinner aboard the yacht. The party wound down at Nine-thirty that night.
Saturday morning began with noise and movement. Engines were being revved, crews were shouting, safety crews were scrambling all over, reporters going here and there for 'the best angle'. Paddock girls preened and primped as did many female fans, hoping to catch the eye of important people. Butterfly Racing made their way to the Pits and Front Area.
Eddie stood with his back to the opening of the tent. "Okay Lyssa, what's the plan?"
"Bike Two. Swap the swingarm for the Ten inch extended Swingarm." Lyssa said.
Eddie chuckled. "Gonna get nasty off the line?"
"No. But I'll already be set when I do get nasty." Lyssa grinned.
"Well, the roads are completely dry now since that rain on Wednesday." Bobby remarked.
Lyssa nodded. "True but the tires still need to be warmed, Bobby. I want the thicker tires when I pit after Lap Two and Four. They need to be hot."
Hunter asked. "So the plan is to pit after Laps Two and Four, right?"
Lyssa nodded to him as well. "Yes. I'll probably be coming in on fumes so be ready with the tank cover. Using it adds seconds, but any fuel that spills can get on the engine and if that happens; me and the bike go up."
"You still want to switch helmets during the pit?" Carl asked.
"Yes. Make sure there are five clears on each visor." Lyssa reminded.
Riders would apply a clear film that could be peeled off the visor. It made the removal of debris and especially any bugs that impacted on the visor to be quick and easy. Bugs weren't such a big issue, but Isle of Man was still an island and birds were fearless. They would land on the road and even fly into the path of riders. To hit a seagull at speeds over a hundred miles per hour was like being hit with a baseball bat. Riders had even been dismounted from a bird strike.
Butterfly and Fury went about things without hurry. The races started with Sidecar followed by Superstock, Superbike, Junior, Lightweight and finally Senior. Listed as Experimental, but not in the Total Zero class, Butterfly and Fury would be in with the Senior TT competitors. Total Zero were bikes not using fossil fuel/petroleum. These separate teams were slowly being called Outlaw or Highwayman Class. Mostly only one or two teams participated. This year was a record of four teams in the Senior sub-class.
As soon as the Front Area 'opened' women and mobs of girls rushed over. Maria smiled to see the girls of the dance studios they had visited swarm the area. They were easy to recognize due to wearing the shirts, hats and other things given out beforehand. They were given bags with more freebies for coming. The bank of monitors had sponsor videos. The main monitor played promotional videos or photos featuring Lyssa. The other monitors played videos without her. The monitor in front of each rep played a loop of their video. When the Senior race began, the monitor bank would switch to race footage from course cameras, helmet and bike mounted cameras and the helicopter camera. The forward speakers played the audio from the advertisements while the back speakers were playing a loop of trance music.
It didn't take long for Madison to find herself in a team shirt, pink miniskirt, sandals and manning the team position beside Mindy.
"What am I doing?" Madison asked.
Mindy giggled. "Kasey, Kristine and Aunt Sam have to go work the crowd so you're here with me. You weren't really doing anything anyway, so why not?"
Dannigan walked over. "Madison, what happened?"
"I believe your secretary has been shanghaied." Maria chuckled then turned to greet a group of men. "Bongiorno, Fredo, Marco."
"Bongiorno Donna DeMarco." The two leading men said and kissed her hand in turn then followed her inside to the meeting area with their entourage.
Over on the other side, Maisie looked to Tammy. "I can't believe they made commercials. They even have us in them. How did they do that?"
"I have no idea, dear, but I am impressed." Tammy replied.
Maisie wore her white skirt suit for KT Flight while Tammy wore a peach skirt suit for representing Smart Properties. Tammy was surprised when she heard Mindy greeting people in Japanese and saw her talking to a small group of Asian men and one anglo woman. The woman quickly revealed a British accent when she spoke. The group began perusing the stations, guided by Mindy in Japanese. The woman stayed at the fashion and beauty stations while the men moved down to the other services.
"Smart Properties." Mindy stated and gestured to Tammy. "Smart, Tammy-san."
Tammy bowed slightly. "Good morning."
"Good morning Smart-sama." One of the men greeted. "Hagakure, Toshino."
Mindy whispered. "Add sama to his name since he's a customer you're just meeting. Hagakure-sama. Later on when you get friendly he may ask you to call him Toshino-san.'
"Thank you, Mindy." Tammy replied.
The man handed her a business card; JL Import/Export. Tammy inspected it then placed it in the empty slot of her case.
"A pleasure Hagakure-sama. Please call me Tammy." Tammy said then offered him one of her cards that had all her businesses on it.
Toshiro inspected her card and nodded approval. "Thank you, Tammy-sama. I do some export business to Japan. Does your flight service include the Northern Islands? I hear the wool goods from there are very good."
"In fact we do go to the islands that have airfields and I may even be able to provide you with a list of contacts." Tammy answered with a smile.
A quick exchange between the men happened then Toshino turned back. "Then it is my good luck to meet you. A place to store and prepare the goods for shipment may also be good."
Tammy nodded. "I do have some commercial properties available as well as residential."
Tammy began compiling her Agency materials while Maisie compiled for KT Flight.
"Arigato." Tammy said and bowed after handing over the bag with her materials. "If I am out of the office, my assistant's name is Joey."
Toshino bowed back accepting the bag. "Dōmo arigatōgozaimasu Tammy-sama."
The other men of the group also bowed.
After they moved on Mindy stepped back to Tammy.
"When Japanese businesses get together it's called a keiretsu. It means 'system'. I don't understand all of it, but they all use the same bank and own shares in each other's companies." Mindy explained.
"Like a conglomerate." Tammy summarized.
Mindy wagged her hand. "Kind of."
"I see." Tammy remarked.
Mindy was looking at the group and had an intent expression.
Tammy noticed her look and asked. "Is something wrong?"
"I might be wrong. Maybe not a keiretsu. Might be a zaibatsu instead." Mindy said quietly.
"Okay. What is that?" Tammy asked.
"Same thing only family owned. The main family has the central business. Subordinate or branch families form the cluster. Now they really do the whole marriage thing. An outsider marrying in has to have something to bring. Family honor is serious and they are hardcore about it. so much so that if marriage isn't an option, adoption is." Mindy informed her.
Tammy was surprised by that. "Wow. That is serious."
"Yeah. Free advice; next time you meet with them, have a gift." Mindy suggested.
"What kind of gift?" Tammy asked.
Mindy looked thoughtful. "You'll have to search online for what their interests are and find an appropriate gift. Also, they do a good bit of socializing before actually getting down to business. Everybody is relaxed, comfortable and hopefully, agreeable."
Tammy then noticed four girls being directed to her by Maisie and greeted them. "Hello, girls."
"Are you really a pilot? You fly important people around?" One of the girls asked excitedly.
Tammy smiled. "Yes I am and yes, we do. When I fly I wear a suit like Maisie’s. I also have an estate agency, I'm wearing this suit to represent that business."
Tammy and Maisie had found a box of airplane shaped pins and fastened them to the girls' tops and answered questions about becoming a pilot. Tammy also informed them of being a helicopter pilot and being part owner of a service for that, SmartAir. Maisie gave them headbands sporting her Miss Fitness name and talked about being a personal trainer. The enthusiasm of the all female group was infectious and smiles were all around.
In the trailer Lyssa spent her time relaxing and playing with the twins. Soon she left with Warlock, to do his dog-business and returned to begin getting ready. She changed into sporting lingerie and socks then pulling on her one piece leather racing suit.
Anna helped Lyssa into the leathers. "Feminine yet sporting. A good look for you."
"Alpinestars has a great women's line. We sent them my laserscan and they made mine to fit exclusive. The boots and gloves too. My helmets are a different story." Lyssa explained pulling on the boots and snapping the straps.
Annette picked the helmet up. "Forcite? I'm not familiar."
"Australian company. Leading the way to combining electronics and high safety standards. They're calling them 'Smart helmets'. Mine are modified more than the ones they're selling. The ones out have bluetooth capabilities. Mine doesn't, but I have secure comms to the team, chin mounted camera and head's up display projected on the visor. The HUD I see you'll be able to see on the monitors." Lyssa explained.
"So this is the 'innovation' part?" Anna asked.
Lyssa nodded. "Right. Our data goes back and they incorporate it into their racing line and a simpler version goes into the general line."
Annette was looking at the helmet closer. "What about the others; what are they doing?"
"Fury is more into performance. They're testing engine and transmission upgrades." Lyssa answered then addded. "I don't have specifics. Getaway and Blitz came up with whatever they're doing. Oh and Adonis had a hand in their racing leathers. Blitz likes Bell helmets so I don't know if there's anything to that. It's not on their literature."
Lyssa tucked the braided end of her hair down the back of her collar then zipped up the front. She then pulled the helmet down onto her head and buckled the chin strap. She felt along the back and plugged a cable and a hose from her suit into the helmet.
"Can you see clearly?" Anna asked.
Lyssa pulled on her gloves, secured the wrist straps then flexed her left hand a certain way. Both visors snapped down.
Lyssa nodded. "Yeah." as the visors snapped back up
"That's like a helicopter pilot's helmet, cool." Annette grinned and received a wink from Lyssa.
Anna looked her over. "I say, you look more like some type of modern gladiator than a racer with all those pieces of composite all over."
"Those are the most frequent contact points of the road so that's where the most protection is needed. I guess we are modern gladiators." Lyssa remarked.
Anna looked her over again. "You look ready. However it goes; continue with style."
"With style?" Lyssa chuckled. "Where have I heard that?"
Anna grinned. "The Eiger Sanction. One of the young climbers that had a degree of sense said it to Mister Eastwood."
Lyssa laughed. "I'll try not to fall off a mountain like they did."
"Please don't." Annette laughed. "Mother hasn't seen that one video. She'd go bezerk if she had."
"Oh, Connor's 2010 ragdoll? Yeah that was nasty. Broken left arm, two bone fractures in his back, dislocated knee with ligament damage, bruised lungs and a hairline fracture to his pelvis. It went viral." Lyssa said.
Anna looked shocked. "Did the young man survive?"
"Of course. He rode the following year." Lyssa informed her. "Connor Cummings. He's the local hero works as a barista. Rides for Padgetts and is in the race today."
"That's insane." Anna shook her head in disbelief.
Lyssa grinned inside the helmet and headed for the door. "It's Isle of Man; the most dangerous race on Earth. Time for fun!"
Annette shook her head. "Sometimes, I think she really is bat-shit crazy."
Warlock making noise caught their attention. He had rolled onto his back trying to dodge and play-bite Alison's hand as she tried to grab his snout. Anna and Annette laughed at the innocent play of toddler and dog. Alex was playing with a toy plane.
Lyssa walked from the trailer around to the work area.
"All set?" Rodrick asked loudly to be heard over the noise.
Lyssa nodded back. A race official was walking by.
"Seven minutes Butterfly!" The man announced, holding up his fingers.
The team gave him a thumb's up. Eddie shut down Bike-2. Bobby and Carl grabbed tires from a cabinet and mounted them on the bike. Hunter topped off the fuel tank then pulled the cover off. Rodrick held the bike steady as it was lowered off the stand. Kasey and Kristine walked into the tent and grabbed two white and pink umbrellas then waited. Kimberly handed them two ear-pieces and clipped the battery pack to the backs of their skirts. They could hear, but not respond. Everybody else put on headsets. Back over at the table Kimberly sat down next to Krystel then put on her own headset. Lyssa mounted her bike and Rodrick connected the cable and hose then switched on the remote unit.
"Comm-check." Kimberly asked.
"Check." They all answered, with Kasey and Kristine giving a thumb's up.
"O2 flow?" Kimberly asked.
Lyssa answered. "On."
Krystel also answered. "Forty percent. Reducing to Five percent and now off."
Kimberly announced. "Butterfly, four mikes to launch. Go or no go?"
Each member called off the position and readiness, ending with Lyssa.
Kimberly acknowledged. "Butterfly is Go. Ready to roll!"
Rodrick and Bobby pushed the bike out. Kasey and Kristine opened their umbrellas to shade Lyssa on both sides and followed with her. Slowly they approached the starting line-up. Lyssa rolled to stop in the line behind Blitz. Kicker and Clean had rolled him out. Kicker patted his back. Blitz looked back, waved then flipped her off. Lyssa returned the salute. He gave her the spanking gesture. She wagged her finger then pointed to herself then made the spanking motion and pointed at him. An official working the line waved them down to stop the 'trash talking' and get ready. The line began moving forward. When they were five bikes from the gate Lyssa started her engine.
"Base, I'm Hot." Lyssa called out.
Kimberly replied. "Copy Rider. Countdown on standby."
The music now came over Lyssa's comms. The playlist had been changed. She would be starting out listening to the Jerome Isma Ae remix of Michael Jackson's Stranger in Moscow.
Over in the Front Area, everyone turned to look when the music suddenly switched and they heard Kimberly's voice.
"Copy, Rider. Countdown on Standby."
The main bank of monitors then stopped the advertisements and now displayed live camera feeds. One by one the preceeding bikes were sent out. Blitz roared out of the gate with a plume of smoke from his tires.
"Paddock girls; clear. Rider; the lane is Hot, you are Live! Countdown; Start. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Light 'em up! Four. Three. Two. One. LAUNCH!" Kimberly announced.
Kasey and Kristine had backed away. When Kimberly called out to light'em up, Lyssa rolled her throttle, holding the front brake, making the tires spin and smoke. At the count of Two, she literally stood on her pegs as the tires smoked and at One released the brake to screech off the line as the flag dropped and Kimberly called Launch. The Front wheel came up and Lyssa leaned forward to counter, flying through the arch onto the course. In the Front area everyone called out in excitement. The race; was on!
"Number 71, Buttterfly Racing Inovations, coming out of the gate now." Jodie Kidd announced to the cameras
Matt Roberts nodded. "A new team, first time here. What do we know Jodie?"
"The rider is only listed by initials; L-K-M. The team's main sponsor is called Elegant Executive in Freeport, Bahamas. They are riding Inceptor by Buell." Jodie read from a sheet.
"Did Jodie say Buell Interceptor, Steve?" Cameron Donald asked.
Steve Plater nodded in surprise. "Yes, she did, Cam. It's been some years since we've heard that name."
Cameron looked impressed. "I'd say so. I can't remember the team name, but I do remember they were constantly going head-to-head with Fury Racing. Those two tore though like they had personal grudges. I'm wondering now if this might be a continuance of those days."
Steve seemed to be focusing on a monitor. "Cam. Is it my imagination or does the rider for Butterfly appear to be a lady to you as well?"
"I can't tell. Jodie, perhaps you could see better?" Cameron suggested.
Jodie looked to a monitor then nodded. "I believe so. This is a surprise. I thought I had interviewed all the female riders, but it seems one slipped by me. She's putting on quite the show already!"
Lyssa had charged down Bray Hill, upshifting, then cleared Ago's Leap. Crossing over Quarter Bridge, on her back wheel, she flashed a thumb's up to be caught on camera. The predominately female crowd at BRI's front area cheered her flashy move. Kasey and Kristine had rejoined the group and added their support. Soon it became a combination of watching the race and dancing to the music, with those knowing the songs singing along. Kimberly's voice could be heard mixed in with the music as she narrated and gave instructions. Carefully though, Lyssa was always addressed as Rider to keep her identity concealed. The main monitor showed the feed from the helmet mounted camera along with Lyssa's HUD across the top and a course diagram superimposed in the lower left corner. The other monitors played feeds from bike mounted cameras, course cameras and the helicopter flown by Lonestar. Pete sat in the back manning the camera. It took all of Lonestar's concentration to keep up with Lyssa and avoid the other aircraft.
Halfway around the course came the first big upset. Three monitors showed a rider go down and the resulting fireball, forcing Lyssa to swing wide.
"BREAK RIGHT!" Kimberly ordered.
Lyssa complied shouting back. "SHIT!"
"Good thing for leather to keep the fire off you! Keep going." Kimberly commented.
During the next turn, Lyssa took it at One-twenty and came out with her front wheel clmbing as she accelerated.
Maria was glaring at the monitor. "You only have two wheels, for the love of God, keep them both on the road!"
"All the riders seem to do that, aunt." Angelic commented.
Maria scowled. "And they should ALL know better. They're adults on motorbikes, not children on skateboards. Harmless fun, she said."
Dannigan chuckled. "It is; for her."
"Oh, they're all insane enough as is! Don't encourage, Paulo. Next, Kasey and Kristine will be after us for motorbikes, too!" Maria scolded him.
At the nineteen minute mark, Lyssa was closing on the end of the first lap. The song changed and cheers went out from all around BRI. Clubfoot by Kasabian began to play. Almost every girl knew and began to sing and dance along as did a lot of the young men in the area. Suddenly all the monitors flashed a full image of Lyssa in her racing leathers and her name. Even a quick announcement by her went out at full volume.
"I'm Lyssa and WE are Butterfly Racing; Beauty and Performance!"
At the commentators stand a sheet of paper was suddenly handed to Jodie.
"What's that?" Matt asked.
Jodie's face lit up and she smiled broadly. "The rider for Butterfly Racing; It's LYSSA KORDENAY-MASON!"
Jodie stood up and pointed as Lyssa roared though on her backwheel during the height of the song. Above BRI's canopy, ejectors launched loads of white and pink confetti into the air as the girls all turned to point and cheer even louder.
"I----I TELL YOU I WANT YOU! I----I TELL YOU I NEED YOU! I-----THE BLOOD AIN'T ON MY HANDS! I----JUST WANTED YA NEAR ME!" the crowd sang out.
"Lyssa Kordenay? The model?" Matt asked in confusion.
Jodie laughed. "Model, Ballerina and apparently; Racer! This is a big surprise none of us saw coming. This race just became even more interesting."
Kimberly called out. "Okay, Lyssa. Secret's out. Everybody knows you're here. Make it good. You're hot on the mic now."
Lyssa answered. "I'm all over it! I'm Lyssa and we're Butterfly Racing. Let's show 'em how the girls' do things! Like Anna quoted: we shall continue; WITH STYLE!!"
Lyssa's voice could now be heard by the crowd and they cheered her on.
Again she charged down Bray Hill, over Ago's Leap then crossing Quarter and Braddan Bridges.
Krystel announced. "O2 on. Twenty-five percent flow for forty seconds."
"Roger that." Kimberly answered.
Lyssa felt the airflow come on then breathed deep coming off the bridges. Tight turns forced riders to breathe shallow from strain so the change to breathe deeply came on straights. Adding oxygen would have a positive effect on a rider. Unfortunately the small bottle of oxygen would only last so long, only nine minutes at full flow. The flow-rate and duration had to be controlled to have the best results. After Union Mills came Ballahutchin Straight. The oxygen shut off as she gained the straight and shifted to the Sixth gear then dropped back down to Fourth to take the curve of Ballagarey followed by Crosby Curve.
Kasey, Kristine and Mindy were having the time of their lives, singing and dancing with the crowd. Samantha had a hard time resisting the urge as well and finally joined them. A new song started and was different from the usual trance anthems Lyssa preferred.
"Rock concert movement number sixty-three; bringing out Venus Hum."
"Blue Man group? What the hell?" Kimberly noted. "Sorry Lyssa, somebody messed with your playlist."
All eyes turned to Mindy who looked just as surprised as everybody and immediately responded. "I didn't do it; I promise!"
Lyssa answered on a straight. "No, Base, I put it on there."
Everyone around the front area heard and began to laugh as the song actually started; I feel love by Blue Man group featuring Venus Hum.
Despite many wanting nothing to do with disco music, the updated song was well received. Many were were bouncing around and singing along with the obvious chorus. Lyssa couldn't resist the urge to laugh and did but only for a moment as she entered curves and had to focus on her breathing.
Maisie had time to watch the monitors and shook her head. "Absolutely insane. She's world famous and does this? Is it something in their water on that island?"
"It's the coffee I believe." Tammy replied with a grin.
Maisie gave a look of disgust. "Oh god, not that!"
Off to the side, Mindy had heard and just giggled like the mischievous imp she was. She didn't want to stop watching her aunt, but had to when visitors came over to her station. Mostly the girls her age and younger. Kasey and Kristine were still dancing and singing along to the music but serving their visitors as well. The Japanese group came back, standing out of the way but still able to watch the screens. The leader noticed he had caught Mindy's eye and bowed to her. Mindy was bowing in return and noticed his hands. He was holding them in a gesture she had seen before by a woman that visited Lyssa. The woman that left with a strange case. Later that day, Mindy noticed the sword in the glass case was gone. Also a young man and woman that lived in Freeport also bowed and gestured the same way when seeing Kimberly or Krystel picked her up from school. Their son was in her class and played soccer on the boys' team. They too were Japanese. That's when it hit her. They had the same family name; Hagakure. Mindy quickly nodded then mirrored the gesture and bowed. Now she understood. These were not a simple business group. True, they were a zaibatsu. They were also Shinobi.
"Looks like I need to talk to Aunt Lyssa about my good friend Kieji. I just thought he had a crush on the little gaijin soccer-girl." Mindy mumbled to herself.
Kasey looked over. "You say something?"
"People really get into a motorcyle girl." Mindy lied.
Kristine nodded. "I know, right?"
Meanwhile, on the course, Lyssa was making her way up the Mountain Mile and hit her nitrous. Blitz was in sight on the straights ahead of her. It seemed he too, triggered a nitrous shot.
"What's my nitrous showing?" Lyssa asked.
Krystel responded. "Down to thirty percent. O2 is down to fifteen percent."
"I get it now. Fury has a three quarter mile lead on you." Kimberly added.
"I need to get closer before we both Pit." Lyssa remarked through clenched teeth from a turn.
Kimberly checked the map. "Just ahead. Coming out of Bungalow to Hailwood's rise."
Lyssa enter in Fifth gear, dropped to fourth then upshifted coming out and as she hit Sixth gear triggered her nitrous again. That brought her into Brandywell as he had exited. Going around Windy Corner she had closed more. At Kate's Cottage Lyssa could read his back logo.
"Ten percent on your Nitrous." Krystel announced.
Kimberly called out. "Save it! Use it at Creg Ny Baa, standby."
Lyssa waited through a countdown then triggered the Nitrous again on the mark and launched ahead. That brought her to within twenty meters of Blitz. At Glencrutchery Road she used the last of it. Barely five seconds of spray but it put her along his back tire.
"I need O2, Nitrous, Fuel, Helmet and tires!" Lyssa announced.
Kimberly turned to see the guys all give a thumbs' up. "Ready for you. Pit."
In the trailer, Annette and Anna were watching and listening.
"He had a ten second lead on Lyssa, how has been able to stay so far ahead all this time?" Annette asked aloud.
Anna replied. "I suspect he has been using Nitrous Oxide as well. He does have a larger engine, but his weight is higher as well. Lyssa is lighter and therefore can use a smaller engine to achieve the same speeds. However, what we do not know is what personal modifications they have made."
"So they may be canceling each other out?" Annette mused.
Anna shook her head and smiled. "I wouldn't say that. I believe Lyssa still has some tricks up her sleeve. She has yet to voice displeasure of her position. I'm sure she is going to do at least one thing that will surprise everyone."
Lyssa slowed down into the Pits behind Blitz. When the bikes were stopped the crews swarmed them. Tires were changed. Helmets were exchanged after a drink of water. Eddie yanked out the Nitrous cannister and rammed in a fresh one, locking it in. Rodrick swapped out the oxygen bottle. Bobby changed the back wheel. From the front area, everyone watched the Pit action, clapping and cheering them on. Finally Eddie threw the jack down, dropping lyssa back down to the pavement as Hunter pulled the spill apron off the tank and slapped the gas cap down. Everyone gave the thumb's up and Rodrick slapped Lyssa's back.
"LAUNCH!" Kimberly yelled over the mic.
Lyssa cranked her throttle over and spun her tire into a burn out as she flew from the pits, seconds behind Blitz. Both screamed back onto the course trailing smoke. The pre-warmed tire was hot and sticky, giving optimum traction to the pavement. There were no obvious back-glances. Blitz was receiving information the same as Lyssa. The team were watching his camera feeds and informing him of position. Again they both flew down Bray Hill and over Ago's Leap.
"She's on 'im hard!" Hunter growled over his headset.
Eddie grinned. "Oh she's gonna get nasty on this lap, Hunter."
Bobby looked over. "Nasty? What's she gonna do?"
"The reason for that extended swing-arm is gonna be known in this lap. You're all gonna love this!" Eddie smiled.
Minutes later another rider went down, but Lyssa and Blitz were ahead of it and unaffected.
In the Front area everyone called out at the spectacular wipeout.
Angelic crossed herself. "God grant that brave man mercy."
"In Dei nomine precamur; custodire animam suam." A voice said behind her.
Angelic turned to see Karl Ferdinand in his robes marking the cross. "Eminenza."
"Perhaps together we may be heard." The Cardinal tried to comfort.
Angelic nodded and clasped her hands. Together they quietly offered a prayer. The monitor showed a safety crew responding and quickly loaded him into an ambulance and leave.
Karl Ferdinand marked the cross again and said in english. "We thank you, Oh Lord, for the gift of those caring people of the safety teams and ask that their services are needed as little as possible on this day. Amen."
Everyone within earshot echoed the Cardinal. "Amen."
Angelic turned and crossed herself then kissed Karl's ring. "Gratzie Eminenza."
"No need for thanks. I was passing by and saw the colorful banner. I am pleased to see you well and in lively company. For a moment I thought I had entered a party instead of a racing event." Karl smiled to everyone. "Though it seems to be 'the best seats in the house', as it were."
He took a few moments to personally greet everyone at the stations. Of course only Kasey and Kristine noticed his look of wondering if they were on their best behaviour. Both grinned impishly in return, which gained a chuckle from him. Ferdinand even accepted a pair of the sunglasses and tried them on.
"These are quite nice." He remarked then continued down the table and stopped in front of Maisie. "Executive Flight services? Might I have some of your literature?"
Tammy and Maisie quickly gave him an envelope with brochures and business cards. He thanked them and moved on, but decided to stay in the area to better watch the race.
On the course, Lyssa was hot on Blitz's tail, dogging his moves. They were past the halfway mark and coming up on Gooseneck.
"Standby to Engage. Seventy seconds!" Kimberly called out as a new song began. The club mix of Higher Ground by Matt Davey with Lo-Fi Sugar.
All eyes turned to the monitors at her announcement. As she called out in ten second increments, they watched in anticipation until finally Lyssa approached the turn and the song hit it's mark. Mindy was singing along loudly in excitement. Kasey and Kristine picked up quickly that she knew something everyone else didn't, but sang along.
"ENGAGE! GO LYSSA GO! TEACH 'IM HOW TO DANCE!" Kimberly called out.
Lyssa entered the turn just behind Blitz, but instead of slowing to lean over; she leaned forward, dropped her gear and rolled the throttle over. The engine shrieked as the tire spun and smoked. Lyssa began to slide sideways, going around Blitz.
Mindy was leading the sing-along. "I walked miles and there's no end. I'm all for you, I know you've said. I feel it, I feel it again. I think about it all the time; All the miracles! Because! BECAUSE! THIS, IS BEAUTIFUL!"
Everyone now knew Mindy had known what was to happen. Kasey and Kristine knew the song and sang along with the call and respond lyrics.
"So. High. From the face. That higher ground, where I hold. Now! This is where we both should be! SO! HIGH! FROM THE FACE, THAT HIGHER GROUND; WHERE I HOLD! NOW! THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!" The girls sang as others cheered at Lyssa's move.
Up in the commentators' stand Matt exclaimed. "HOLY; are you seeing this? SHE'S DRIFTING, JODIE! BUTTERFLY RACING; DRIFTING THE TURN TO OVERTAKE FURY! We've never seen this before!"
Jodie was amazed. "I see it! Lyssa Kordenay-Mason is pulling off quite the trick against Fury Racing and making her move!"
"Now we understand the purpose of that extended swing-arm. That's obviously to make drifting more manageable." Cameron pointed out to the two.
Coming out of the turn in a plume of smoke Lyssa settled back and upshifted, her front wheel climbing with the back regaining traction. To add insult, she flipped off Blitz behind her. She stayed ahead as a new song played. On the Mountain Mile she triggered her nitrous again, maintaining her lead. At Governor's Bridge, once again, she showed the purpose of the extended swing-arm and drifted the double curve section to roar out onto Glencrutchery Road and down Bray hill amid cheers and another round of confetti launched above the canopy. Everyone at the Front end called out as she passed at speed. Ira & Paulina- Better In Time was blaring with most singing along at the chorus "Gonna get better in Time, gonna be better in time. Cause you'll never be mine!"
Over the comms it now began to sound like an air control and pilot during a dogfight. Kimberly watching from feeds coming from the course, bike and helicopter overhead to guide Lyssa around the other traffic and stay ahead of Blitz who was now trying to close the gap she'd made in the turns. Strategic shifting and carefully planned shots of nitrous oxide kept the new battle fierce. On the Cronk Y Voddy Straight Lyssa held her shot for twenty-five seconds while in Sixth gear. The introduction of Oxygen to her also kept herself focused and sharp during the turns that strained all riders. Most of the way saw her up to Fifth gear until Bishop's Court that allowed her back into Sixth but without a shot. Sulby Straight came and she was back in Sixth gear and triggered a shot. Blitz was twenty meters behind as they took Sulby Bridge. Oxygen flowed again as Lyssa drifted Ramsey Hairpin and again Gooseneck. Another twenty-five second Nitrous shot took her over Mountain Mile. Blitz was on her back tire towards the end of it George's Folly.
"You're coming up on Bungalow, standby on shot." Kimberly informed then counted down to the exit. "Hit it!"
Lyssa held the button down as Kimberly counted the fifteen second shot. This was the hard part. Using the Nitrous enough to maintain her lead, without running out while he still had enough left to overtake her. After this pit, everything they both had would be in play. The fifth, and final, lap would be for All or Nothing.
Just as Lyssa came onto Glen crutchery Road she called out. "Everything when I Pit! Hot tires, the cold fuel this time, Full Nitro and Oxygen, clean helmet. Eddie, pull my pin."
Eddie nodded to Kimberly and she relayed. "Ready for you. Pit."
Lyssa swooped into the Pits and screeched to stop as Blitz flew by to stop at Fury in a screeching of tires as well. The teams swarmed the bikes. Eddie lifted the bike with the jack as Rodrick spun the lugs of the back tire. Bobby ran with the hot tire to swap them out. Rodrick had the lugs off the front tire as Bobby tugged the chain onto the back sprocket then began switching the front tire. Eddie replaced the nitrous bottle then oxygen. Hunter had pulled a fuel canister that had been sitting for three hours in a tub of ice water and filled her tank.
Unnoticed at large, Eddie crouched down on Lyssa's left side and pulled a large locking pin from her gear case housing and pocketed it. Carl unbuckled her helmet and held the clean helmet for her to pull on after taking off her bug splattered one and taking a quick gulp of water.
"Update all systems." Kimberly ordered began counting down from ten.
All screens flickered once as Krystel announced. "Update complete, we are go for launch."
At Kimberly's count of two the jack was kicked down, pulled away and Lyssa rolled her throttle.
"LAUNCH!" Kimberly ordered.
Lyssa popped her clutch and the tire began to smoke as she roared back out. Flying past Blitz as they kicked his jack out to drop him down. He too smoked his tire coming out in chase. Four seconds were nothing and everything all at the same time. Once again, down Bray Hill and over Ago's leap. The Fifth and Final lap was on and everyone was riding with everything on the line.
"What did she mean Pull her pin?" Kristine asked Mindy.
Mindy shrugged as she danced around. "I dunno. I never heard anything about a pin. We'll find out eventually. We found out about why the thingie for the back tire is so long, it's for drifting. OOOH! Good song!"
Nitrous Oxide & Sarah Lynn - Clear As The Sky began to play and they could hear Lyssa's breathing relax some.
"I hear, my father call. Don't let, silence fall. In your heart; I will rest with you. I hear, my father call. I. Won't. Let you fall. It's as clear as the sky. Clear as the sky; TO ME!" Lyssa sang over the comms.
Kasey, Kristine, Mindy and even Samantha sang along the chorus. "It's as clear as the sky! CLEAR AS THE SKY; TO ME!"
Another rider went down, but he stood up after sliding a distance and held up both arms to signal he was uninjured. His motorcycle was another story. It would never race again, though he would.
Off team comms, LoneStar and Pete were swearing up in the helicopter. Another chase helicopter had an inattentive pilot that cut across their vector, forcing LoneStar to yank back hard on both sticks then work his pedals. In the end he climbed over in a roll and dove the other side. On the open air channel he swore at the pilot and promised to cram his license up his ass and glue the hole shut once they were all on the ground. Air traffic had noted the incident and called for the pilot to return and land immediately for being a hazard. Other pilots were remarking at the skill of LoneStar's bold move to save themselves. The other pilot merely told them off and refused orders, scoffing no real action would be enforced against him and insulted the other pilots. He quickly found himself boxed in by three Pumas in gunship configuration. They crowded him and forced him down while police officers went to his landing site and arrested him.
Back in the Front area a girl from the ballet school commented. "That's weird."
"What's weird?" Tammy asked.
"What's that round thing up at the top with the numbers?" She asked.
Tammy replied. "That's the speedometer. It tells us how fast she's going."
"Okay. And what's the numbers in the squares under that?" She asked.
Mindy answered. "That tells us what gear she's in."
"How come there's and extra one now?" The girl asked then pointed. "There used to be six. Now there's another."
All heads turned to look and counted. Just as the little girl said, there were seven now, not six.
Samantha blurted out. "What? Wait-a-minute, you can't change out during a race and even if you could, there isn't enough time."
Kasey and Kristine supplied the answer to the confusion with two words. "THE PIN!"
Maria began laughing. "Oh Lyssa! That is truly sneaky! Brava!"
The remix of My Enemy by Super8 & Tab began to play and Lyssa laughed over the comms. She was closing on Sulby Straight as the song crescendoed. Blitz had slipped along side just going onto the straight and gave her the finger. Lyssa returned it, then triggered her Nitrous shot on Kimberly's twenty-count and roared ahead.
Over in the Pits, Fury glared at Butterfly and the guys all whooped and high-fived each other.
Rodrick yelled over at them. "That's MY girl!"
Over the comms Lyssa laughed. "Welcome to the greatest show on earth! Let 'em hear us Butterfly!"
All the people in BRI's Front area cheered as loud as they could. Blitz and Lyssa jockeyed back and forth for the lead, both occasionally using quick derogatory hand signals at each other. After drifting the Gooseneck Lyssa settled in to give everything the bike had, anticipating the classic trance anthem to play.
"Mountain Mile, ten seconds. Standby to Engage." Kimberly announced as the song began.
Kasey, Kristine and Mindy all smiled, recognizing DJ Tiesto's Suburban Train, featuring the Children of Orpheus choir. The angelic voices filled the air and any who hadn't been giving much attention did now. Some counted down aloud and others nodded along.
"Two. One. ENGAGE!" Kimberly called out.
Blitz had come alongside again and was triggering his Nitrous shot. Lyssa used her left hand to mimic shooting a pistol at him then shifted into Seventh gear and cranked the throttle over.
The three girls laughed out aloud watching that happen and yelled. "KA-POW!"
Both bikes surged forward keeping pace then Lyssa played the final card and hit her own Nitrous shot on Kimberly's mark and held the twenty-count.
"One-eighty. One-ninety. Two-hundred. Two-ten. Fifteen. TWO-TWENTY. Come on, Lyssa, stay with it! TWO-TWENTY-FIVE. EIGHT! TWO! THIRTY! DISENGAGE; NOW!" Kimberly ordered.
Lyssa had close to a one hundred meter lead coming off the mile and almost had to slam all brakes to stay on the road. The battle to maintain that lead tightend by the second as they went around turns and corners. At Creg Ny Baa Lyssa held three bike lengths ahead of Blitz and repeated her tactic. She took her gears to Seventh and triggered her Nitrous shot. This time Kimberly counted to twenty-five. Screams and cheers went out when Kimberly announced Lyssa's speed of Two-hundred-thirty-four. Blitz almost swung too far going through Brandish trying to catch up. At Governor's Bridge he had narrowed to twenty meters, but Lyssa drifted the double curves again, increasing her lead and launched herself onto Glencrutchery road. This time, her advantage wouldn't be denied as Higher Ground by Matt Davey played again.
"It's all you now." Kimberly announced. "Cut loose!"
Lyssa answered back. "See you in a few seconds!"
Lyssa flew through the gears and triggered the last fifteen seconds of Nitrous. The crowd was divided as to watching he screens for her speed or turning to watch her pass. Once again, passing the Front area, the ejectors launched their final round of the pink and white confetti as Lyssa roared through and across the Finish Line. She slowed, turned around and was rolling back casually as Blitz crossed the line. In the Pit Eddie grabbed the front of the bike to steady it as Rodrick hugged her and dragged her off. On the ground Lyssa turned and went to the edge and faced the crowd. She pulled off her helmet and held it while she curtsied to the crowd as they cheered then stood up and held her helmet high in victory. When she returned to BRI's Pit Fury were giving her the 'golfclap' to which she gave them another curtsey. By that time Clear as the sky was playing again and she called out loudly.
"It's as clear as the sky. CLEAR AS THE SKY; TO ME!" Lyssa sang.
Quickly Kimberly and Krytel secured their electronics and set the Front Area back to running the promotional ads. The bike was rolled into the trailer and stored along all their equipment. Annette and Anna joined them with Lyssa and Rodrick carrying the twins as the team went over to the Front area. Practically as soon as Lyssa walked in, she was put into a chair for make-up and hair. As soon as she was finished, Kimberly was next then Krystel. Rodrick used large wipes to get as much of the road grime off her leathers before she stood in front of a camera.
All of the team members were given a few minutes to relay their efforts in the race. Even though there would be no winner's purse or even a trophy, their victory was obvious, even if it was only over Fury Racing.
"What about next year?" Someone asked.
Lyssa looked to consider that then hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Angelic seemed enthusiastic."
All eyes turned to Angelic DeMarco, looking back in shock. "Me? No. No, absolutely not. I cannot..."
That's when she heard Maria chuckling beside her, then Annette, Samantha, Anna and all the others joined in.
"She is joking." Angelic surmised, correctly. "The insanity they think is humor is finally on me."
Maria patted her niece's back. "Yes, my dear niece. She got you."
"The look on your face was absolutely PRICELESS!" Veronika giggled.
Even Karl Ferdinand was struggling to remain stoic. "May the Lord forgive us; yes, even I, thought it was quite funny."
Angelic shook her head. "You should impose at least ten Hail Marys on yourself Eminenza."
"Five child, I did resist the urge to laugh." Ferdinand replied then crossed himself.
Angelic shook her head then said to herself in Italian. "Once again, she has proven how crazy she is."
All that understood Italian merely nodded in agreement, while grinning.
Lyssa took at seat at the front table and began signing photos of herself wearing the racing leathers, dancewear or clothing by Valentino. With the racing photo she gave a themed trinket, with the Valentino photos she gave a small tube holding a perfume sample. A bikini photo was unsuprisingly popular with the young men.
"Can I have about a hundred of those bikini pictures?" A male voice asked.
Lyssa looked up at the grinning Adonis and shook her head. "No way. You'd do weird things with them."
"I just want to cover a wall." Adonis joked back. "Too bad you didn't think of doing body pillows!"
"You're all kinds of wrong for that." Lyssa snarked, signing a Ballet photo for a girl and gave her a butterfly necklace. "Here you go, work hard for your recital."
The little girl thanked her and hurried off with her 'treasures'.
"Hey! Can we get a picture of you with Lyssa, Todd?" An older teen girl asked.
Adonis looked over. "Now how can we say no to that?"
He leaned in close and they both smiled while the girl snapped the picture with her phone. Several others caught the picture as well.
"Careful girls, nobody has a more swelled head than Todd Michealson. He'll sweet-talk you then go out with your older sister." Lyssa warned then added. "Or your mom!"
Adonis acted wounded and grinned. "So cruel! You know I'm not like that, Lyssa. Please tell her Madam Maria."
Maria shook her head. "Do not drag me into this banter, young man. I might be tempted into calling a certain yacht owner and reveal where you're hiding."
"And now I have to flee to safety!" Adonis proclaimed then quick as a snake, kissed Lyssa's cheek and slipped away just as fast.
Lyssa pointed at him and mouthed "I'll get you for that", then went back to signing autographs. Soon other riders began making their way over and shook hands with Lyssa. The crowd began to thin as the ceremonies were over.
Maria noticed Angelic suddenly stiffen her posture and looked to where she stared. Karl Ferdinand stood with two other men in robes talking.
"What is it?" Maria asked.
"Cardinal Ferdinand. The man is he is talking to is a Bishop for the Church of England." Angelic answered then said even quieter. "The third man is Father Lucas. The last time I saw him, he was with the Carolingians. He should not be wearing Iscariot robes."
Maria asked. "What trouble surrounds us now?"
"Not us. Whatever they are discussing is very bad for both Churches. Something unholy. That is the only reason for a Carolingian to be seen in public." Angelic explained. "We should want no part of this."
Maria sighed. "I couldn't agree more. Come, we have better things to do than meddle in superstition and devilry."
That evening, the yacht's aft deck was crowded with people dressed to the nines and dining well. When the last light of sunset disappeared Fury Racing walked up the gangplank, carrying boxes.
"You won, we brought the booze." Blitz announced, setting his box on the table.
Lyssa peered into the box. "Yeah? What'd you bring?"
Getaway smiled. "The CHEAPEST shit we could get our hands on!"
"Yeah, this stuff has some heavy duty paint thinner!" Kilo commented with a grin.
Patch shook his head then opened a box. "For the ones with an age issue or a condition, we have this."
He held up a bottle of sparkling grape juice and handed it to Annette. "You aren't being left out."
"Yeah. We'll be nice to the kids and knocked-up." Kicker chuckled and patted Mindy on her head, winked to Annette then glared at Kristine. "That includes you too, kiddo."
Kristine huffed. "Hey now, I'm legal here!"
Bobby warned her. "You will NOT be getting hammered and that's final. You can have two glasses and that's it. Kasey, same thing."
Both girls groused while everyone else laughed. The party recommenced with toasts to the victory. After a few minutes Krystel stood up on a chair and got everyone's attention.
"Just a bit of quick business. " Krystel announced. "Footage of you at your stations are on your social media pages. Links to editted race footage have been added too."
Krystel stepped down and Veronika took her place. "Any of your merch left-over has been sent to you. If you came over by car, you'll find it in your room. Tammy, your's has been sent to your plane. Everybody else will receive it in a few days by FedEx. Thank you, everybody, Butterfly was recognized as the best Front Area and we got a, uh, we got something for that."
"Probably a rubber chicken." Hunter joked, causing everybody to laugh.
Bobby called out. "No, they'd be serious; a pack of toilet paper!"
That cause everybody to laugh louder and Veronika shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised, we made a real mess with the confetti. It was seriously cool though! Anyway, that's it. Back to the party!"
Kimberly cautioned Tammy not to over-indulge, as she and Maisie would be flying out the next day. At ten, many started to leave. Lyssa said goodnight a few minutes after. Tammy and Maisie followed suit and went back to hotel.
At four Dannigan's phone rang and he connect before the second chime ended. "This better be damn good."
"I will apologize for waking you, Paul, but not for why I'm waking you." The voice replied.
Dannigan sat up. "Karl? Are you in deep shit?"
"Yes. Paul I must ask for your help and in doing so, give you help. I do not have the people for my problem. My problem is also your problem." Karl Ferdinand said. "The problem of the man Burgess."
Dannigan growled. "You have my undivided attention, Karl. I want him. What do you want?"
"He has something very dangerous in his possession. Something he intends to sell. I must have it, Paul." Karl stated.
"Wait. Is this what your guy was chasing down; the one that went missing?" Dannigan asked.
The Cardinal sighed the said angrily. "Murdered. We've confirmed it. Burgess murdered him to get it."
"What is it, Karl? What is this thing so important to kill your guy and piss you off so bad you're coming to me with carte-blanche?" Dannigan asked.
"A book. An abominable book. The Grimorium Artium Vetiti." Ferninand almost spat the name.
"My latin sucks, so I have no idea what that is, but obviously you hate it. If you hate it, but still want it, then it's really bad. Okay Karl. We get the man, you can have the book. If he has materials vital to the Brits, you have to let them have it. Deal?" Dannigan hedged.
Ferdinand assured him. "The book, Paul. That's all that matters to me. You may take him and anything else he has. Just let my man have that book. We'll stay out of your way and leave peacefully. I will accept your deal."
"Done. Where is he?" Dannigan agreed.
"I can tell you where he'll be. A helicopter will be waiting for him." Karl said then gave the location and time.
Krystel was awoken by her phone. "Yeah?"
"Get up and go get Tammy. That asshole Burgess is going to fly out on a helicopter at Five-thirty." Dannigan said in a tired and aggravated voice.
"Aw shit!" Krystel groaned. "Please tell me we can kill the fuck!"
"Negative!" Dannigan growled. "Alive. Help Tammy gift wrap and on her plane. She is to deliver the son-of-a-bitch to Sean at Broadsword. Get somebody to grab their stuff from the hotel, LoneStar is going to ready her plane."
Krystel snarled. "Aye, sir."
"One more thing. I had to make a deal for this. Burgess has some kind of book. The Vatican wants that book. It's all they want. A grimmer-something." Dannigan sighed.
Krystel thought for a moment then asked. "A Grimiore?"
"Yes. No idea what it is." Dannigan admitted.
"It's a spellbook. Not the kind you can buy in a new age shop. Real deal evil kind. The kind written in blood and usually bound with human skin." Krystel explained.
Dannigan groaned. "Not even gonna ask how you know about that."
"I went to Berkley. San Francisco used to be the center of Satanism. It's still around, just not as noisy and the other whacko cults get more media attention." Krystel said flatly as she got out of bed.
"Be that as it may, secure Burgess and any materials the Brits might want, let the Catholic operative have the book and leave. Do NOT fail!" Dannigan ordered.
"Aye, Sir." Krystel replied then disconnected.
Quickly she pulled her battlesuit, gloves, weapon's rig and boots from her large suitcase. In four minutes she was walking off the yacht and calling Tammy.
"Hello, what’s the emergency?" Tammy answered sleepily.
"Wake up, gear up and have Maisie get the rest of your stuff ready to go. Burgess is about to bail and we only get one shot at the asshole. Meet me at the back door in ten minutes." Krystel said then disconnected. "Hmmm. Tammy needs a helicopter. I think you're about to achieve Dude status, Mister Burgess."
To be continued in Tamara's Tales!
Operative: Kordenay, Lyssa Patrice
Affiliation: Office of Immediate Covert Actions
Mission Designator: Steel Butterfly
Age: 29
Gender: *Female
Nationality: U.S.
D.O.B.: 09-02-1986
Occupation(official): Professional Dancer(ballet)/ Model
Hair: blonde
Eyes: grey
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 135lbs
Blood type: -AB
Advanced Education: Juliard Performing Arts, New York
Bolshoi Academy, Moscow
Eccellenza Modeling, Milan
Relationship: currently engaged- *Mason, Rodrick Nathaniel(U.S.N Commission Resigned)
Control: *Dannigan, Paul (U.S.A. Retired)
Residence: *Colonial Beach, Va.
Military Service: U.S.A
Status: Discharged, Honorable(medical)
Unit: 1st GRP Special Forces, SPecial Operational Detachment- Delta (removed to classified Assault Group DemonWraiths)
Rank: E-7/ Sergeant First Class
MOS: 18B Weapons Sergeant
18F Intelligence Sergeant
Primary Skill set: Light-Heavy Weapons systems, CQB, *Hand-to-Hand, Sniper, Air Assault,
Para-Assault(Static, HALO, HAHO), Insurgency, counter-insurgency,
site penetration, Hostage Rescue, precision demolitions
Secondary Skill set: Field Forensics, Surveillence, Counter-Surveillence, Counter-Intelligence,
Interrogation, Information Extraction.
Languages: Primary-English
*Secondary- French(Parisian), Russian(Moscow), Italian(Roman), German (Munich,Viennese), Portuguese
(Lisbon/Rio De Janiero), Japanese(Tokyo), Arabic(Kuwaiti, Saudi, Iraqi), Thai(Bangkok),
Dutch(Amsterdam), Spanish(Barcelona), Korean(southern)
Confirmed Kills: 2596
Unconfirmed Kills: 4837
Special Notation: *Operator underwent full Male-to-Female transition(admission to Gender Dysphoria) after medical discharge.
Martial arts training before Military service: Kenpo,Krav Maga, Karate(Shotokan), Muy Thai, Sambo,
Jui Jitsu, Akido, Capoeira, Savate, Kuʻialua, Pankration and Okichitaw. Utilizes a style incorporating all listed
above as well as various techniques from other widely practiced styles and supplementals now known as
Evolution and practiced by three other members of DemonWraiths.
Advanced Fighting Techniques- Worden Style, Jeet Kun Do- martial arts supplemental.
French, Spanish and Japanese language skills learned before entry to service.
Preferred weaponry: .40 cal Jericho pistol(2), AR-15(Commando),
Knife: Marauder, Knife: Fairbairn-Sykes.
Techniques: Operator specializes in site penetration(soft probe with hot extract), Interrogation usually suspended in place of
Information Extraction utilizing *Chemical Agent- Inanna augmented with physical and cutting. Employs
forensic counter-measures to conceal identifying data. Also known to employ hypnosis to retrieve information or
implace disinformation from non-hostiles.
WARNINGS: Naturally resistant to Hypnotic Interrogation, augmented with advanced post-hypnotic hardening(Full Cataclysmic
Memory Backlash- will completely relive entire life in space of one hour). Known to suffer Battle Stress resulting
from capture during compromised mission and subsequent attempted Information Extraction(physical, electrical).
Additional Notations: Known to have multiple residences in and outside CONUS(spends a lot of time at house located on Grand
Cayman Island.
Utilizes contacts in Ballet and fashion industry to gain pre-positioning for activity and low-visibility travel.
Chapter 1 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Leginza: The Academy
Once again the sound of metal clashing preceded a smash amid the metallic pounding of robotic hooves followed by exclamations from many that were watching as she was. Mostly a mixture of surprise and approval. Jessica Weyden shook her head at the spectacle. Dante had been unhorsed again. The other rider spun his mount around then trotted back to the end. An underclassman, acting as squire, took the lance while another offered up a drink bottle. She watched as two others ran over to help up the downed rider. He was moving slower this time as he struggled to roll over and clamber to his feet. For almost any other Jessica would have admired the victor's technique. It was as solid as it came. He was able to sit firm enough in the saddle to withstand the impact of his lance into the opponent while at a slight enough angle to deflect the bulk of the opposing impact. But he wasn't any other rider. He was Patrick Fotens; Third year and a Solo of all damnable things. One of her main rivals whether she wanted to admit it or not. Down below there was activity and it didn't look good.
"HOLD," the instructor called out and went over to him.
The armor clad young man finally managed to stand up but swayed, "I'm alright Sir Belvin."
Aame Belvin gestured to him, "flip your visor Dante."
The visor was raised and the young man looked slightly dazed. The instructor looked him over carefully then shook his head.
"You're done Dante. I'm surprised your eyes aren't spinning around in different directions. You'd probably see three of him," Belvin remarked.
Dante tried to focus, "I'd aim for the middle one Sir."
Both squires laughed as they held him upright.
Finally Belvin shook his head and chuckled, "nice answer. That's good spirit, but I have to shut you down."
The instructor held up both arms and called out, "THAT'S IT. DANTE IS DOWNED. BRING IT IN FOTENS."
The other rider dismounted and strode over. He regarded Dante closely then clapped him on the shoulder.
"Take a good hit Lorenz. I owe you another lance. Its yours anytime you want or we toss this one out and do it all over," Patrick Fotens declared loudly.
Sir Belvin nodded, "Lorenz Dante. State your option, mindful that neither of you will advance nor retreat until this dispute is resolved."
"Sir Belvin, I accept Solo Patrick Fotens' challenge. One week from today full match," Lorenz Dante answered loudly so everyone could hear the response.
The instructor turned and spoke to the scorekeepers, "this match is void. Reschedule for this day next week, hold the rankings of Lorenz Dante and Solo Patrick Fotens."
Immediately the board reflected the changes.
Belvin nodded, "Very well. Dante, see the Line Trainer. Fotens, see to yourself. Set up for the next match!"
The two opponents clenched their fists and tapped their chest then the back of each other's fist in salute. Dante did his best to go under his own power, but escorted by the two squires. Fotens turned but held his place when the instructor said quietly.
"Well done Fotens. You rode excellently and your technique was dead-on. Your standing may have frozen but you did gain real world points and they'll count too." Belvin said in a low voice.
Patrick nodded back. "Lorenz is good. On the field and off. I have no problem with him having a fair shot Sir Belvin."
The jousting instructor nodded. "Good attitude Solo. On your way."
Patrick left the field leading his mount. The robotic horse walked beside him to the stable.
"Daemon. Stall." Patrick commanded after positioning the robot horse.
The standard dull grey horse backed itself into the stall then a small panel opened just behind the left front leg and a cable lowered. Patrick took the cable and plugged the end into a receptacle in the side of the stall. Patrick took the board from the post and marked the checklist then replaced it. He then went to the Solo Wardroom. Inside, a member of staff helped remove his armor and placed it on the stand inside a small closet. Of the fifty closets only twenty were being used currently.
Patrick Fotens was a student at the Academy of Armed Cavalry. Unlike many of the students he had no sponsor. Neither Royalty nor Nobility. He wasn't of the Gentry either. Patrick had paid his own tuition and expenses himself. He had no alliance or affiliation. He was a Solo. In essence; a mercenary. Upon graduation and knighting he could approach or be approached by any force and be hired as a knight for a limited time or permanently. Students without sponsorship, alliance or affiliation were rare and had been dubbed Solos. They stood alone and answered only to the Headmaster. Solos could however undertake assignments while at the Academy but with parameters. An assignment could not exceed four days of absence, could not be for an armed force and must be for profit. In short they could only join limited, small-scale engagements and more preferably serve as personal security.
Many Solos after leaving the Academy joined a FreeLancers Regiment. The First FreeLancers was the first force of Solos to be formed and recognized. They were strictly for hire for limited assignments mostly of diplomatic nature, escorting emissaries and conference delegations. Because of this they were given free passage throughout all territories provided their number did not exceed four Solos for every male they escorted or six for every female. The First FreeLancers were also known to have at least one female Solo in the contingent when escorting a female charge. There was an infantry version called the First FreeBooters Battalion and they did much of the same work.
That was out there. In the Academy things were different. In the Academy the student populace tried to establish more than one hierarchy. That was because so many of the students were royalty or nobility. They of course would try to impose authority. It never worked for long. One stipulation of attending the Academy was that all students had to agree, along with their parents, that they had no authority over any other student or faculty other than those officially sanctioned. The Student Council and Security Contingent. Security was provided by Solos of the Second FreeLancers and Freebooters. They provided security at the Academy and served as escorts for royals and nobles outside the Academy boundary. There were two villages within half a mile of the Academy and the students were free to visit them. Most of the Solos boarded in the villages as it was cheaper than in the Academy. Villagers were allowed to post assignments for Solos looking for paid work and rooms for rent. There was a post-board for the Gentry as well but the assignments were different.
Patrick took a shower, dried off then dressed. His uniform was that of the standard grey pants with matching shirt, a dark blue jacket trimmed in grey and black boots. Like all Solos his jacket and sword had no ornament or other markings other than year designation. He wore his long black hair free and tucked the black leather gloves into his belt. The jacket was of a heavy cloth, unlike those worn by the Royals and Nobles. Their jackets were usually of a velvet and in their family or country's colors and their wore white pants.The females, unless a Solo, usually wore a blouse with a ruffled front in white or the second of their colors and instead of riding pants they substituted a short skirt. The Gentry wore the colors of their affiliation with their jacket made of similar material to Patrick's. The choice of colors for Solos were those of the Academy as it prevented dispute over their affiliations, if they had any.
Over generations warfare had changed. Technology evolved. Flesh and blood horses were replaced by robotic. metal tipped wooden lances were replaced by plasma-charged composites. Razor sharp metal swords became laser-edged steel alloy impregnated ceramic blades. Hammered metal armor gave way to glazed composites laced with alloys. Flexible shaft or counter-weighted catapults hurling stones fell to compression launchers and variable density objects still called rocks. Even the conduct of war had changed. After the battle, the disposition of prisoners would be determined. Royals would be ransomed. High Nobility could be ransomed or kept as prizes. Lower Nobility were kept as prizes. The Gentry were taken as labor or sold as such. Solos were given the option of signing over, purchasing their own freedom or ransom. There was a standard price for a Solo to battle each day and that would be their ransom. However many days that Solo had been in battle against that force would have to be paid to that force. This would only occur after their status was verified. All Solos had to register as such.
Those conditions had been inspired by the Gods. Gods and Goddesses were real. Naturally they didn't get along no matter which end of the spectrum they inhabited. Each faction fought the other and the factions fought among themselves. Humans on the mortal plane had seen some of these battles and therefore emulated. In fact it was not unheard of to see a God or two watching the mortal battles. Usually placing wagers on the outcome. Sometimes they meddled with the mortals or even joined the battle themselves. When that happened; prayers, tributes and sometimes even sacrifices were the price to be paid. Some royals and even a few nobles claimed that the price for victory had been to bear or sire a child for a god or goddess None of this was new. It had been going on since before time was understood to be time. It simply was the things were. Patrick knew and understood it, just as much as anyone did as he walked through the corridor.
"Is it true?" a young girl in the colors of a noble asked.
The young Gentry boy nodded. "The staff were talking about it during the break."
Another girl in Gentry colors looked worried, "That's three hundred miles from here. The Rider wouldn't come here though, right? I mean we're a school. The Rider only cares about battles? Darnell?"
Darnell shrugged to the girl, "who knows what the Rider is interested in. The teacher did say the rumor about being a girl is true. He said he heard she was beautiful and rode a demon horse."
"What about the other story? That she drives people insane." The first girl asked.
Darnell nodded sadly. "So said, a lot of men did go insane. The rest were terrified and it took them a long time to snap out of it. They said their worst fears had come alive right in front of them. So now we know why she's called the Nightmare Rider."
A faculty member approached the trio of Second years. "Let's move along. You all have somewhere to be."
Quickly they rushed off. The faculty member glanced at Patrick and exchanged nods. No comments were neccessary as Patrick hadn't even stopped while the Second years were talking. Gossiping, more like. It was nothing new. Neither was the subject. There were many stories of the mysterious woman that had come to be called The Nightmare Rider. Most came from half-crazed survivors or the the last words of the dying. Patrick turned at the doorway and entered the classroom. Several of the other students nodded to him. A couple of the girls gave him looks of their feminine appreciation. That too was not new to him. He was an attractive young man and fit enough to appear dashing. He also had no problem admitting that some of his admirers was also attractive. For most it was only visual appreciation that led only to private fantasies. High born females would never become involved with a Solo. At least not when they still had family obligations to meet.
Though not common, it wasn't unheard of that the occasional heir was actually the offspring of a tryst, or an agreement that included some sort of gratuity. Especially when a marriage was of political reasons for the young woman. If she were of a higher station than her betrothed then it would be she who dictated the conditions of the heir or heiress she produced. Female Solos were different. They were sometimes actively sought after by young royals and nobles to produce their heirs, the rewards for doing so were frequently quite generous.
None of that weighed on his mind. Only the day was his concern. He had only to finish this class and the day was over. He took his seat and prepared for the lesson. It was a class that did require him to pay strict attention; battle history. There was one thing in common. There was an independent group that observed major battles. Afterward they documented it. Individual details were not always clear, but formations and tactics were easy to determine. Those were what was taught. Some notable Knights hired observers to keep an account of their actions in battles. That had already been strongly advised not to be trusted. Many had turned out to be over-embellishments. More than one had even been proven to be complete fabrication.
For Solos the only thing that really mattered was their Battle Ledger. Essentially it was a book that they kept all their vouchers. For any assignment they received a voucher that declared their payments. Like a receipt book. The voucher was an official document with seals and signatures of the military group they serve with along with the monies dispersed, rates and any bonuses. More often than not they received bonuses for victories or performing service above what was expected. This however was determined by the contractor. A contractor that acquired a reputation for underpaying or cheating Solos quickly found themselves not able to hire them. Likewise a Solo that acquired a reputation for performing less than agreed upon service would find themselves struggling to find work.
Patrick Fotens was a rarity, even among his fellow Solos. He had come to the Academy as a recognized Solo and even had a Battle Ledger. He had begun in a group and acquired enough money to pay for his own tuition. The Solo Regiment he'd started out with had become so small it had only four members left plus himself so they collectively joined another Regiment and he opted to enter the Academy as a Third year. The Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers were no more. The others had joined the Seventy-Fifth FreeLancers. When the Commander had heard Patrick was going to attend the Academy he wrote a letter of recommendation to ensure his admittance along with a letter of invite to join the Seventy-Fifth upon graduation.
Jessica finished putting away her class things. Unconsciously she glanced to her left and saw him. Solo Patrick Fotens. It irked her for him to be so good. Gossip placed him within the top three of the Third years and the top twenty of the Academy. Some were even speculating he would place in the tournament. That would infuriate her to no end. Especially if she placed lower. That and the fact that several of the noble young women admitted to being infatuated with him. She had heard of one even stating that she hoped to marry lower than herself so she could seek Patrick out to sire her firstborn. To date Jessica was undefeated. Patrick Fotens was as well, but holding position until his current contest was resolved. Lorenz Dante was a Gentry, but very formidable. He had only one loss and one draw. If he won the disputed contest against Patrick he would advance to contest with Jessica. If he lost then she would face Patrick.
Jessica Weyden of Lurbourg was one of five princesses attending the Academy. Two were First years, one a Second year and one a Fourth year. She was the only princess in the Third year class. Of course that came with its own problems. Her station and beauty attracted the attention of many young men and the advances of several High Nobles and one Prince. In her opinion everyone had their place. She was royalty and that meant she was to receive the best without question. Nobility were her friends and supporters. The Gentry served without reservation and the rest were either villagers or servants. Then there were Solos. To her; Solos were just short of opposing forces. To be blunt, she refused to find them trustworthy and wanted nothing to do with them other than force them out of her country.
Lurbourg had lost a battle because an opposing country had hired a Solo Regiment. Afterward that country had ransomed Jessica's Uncle, Aunt and two cousins. They had known exactly who they had captured and demanded a very high ransom. It cost heavily to buy them back. If that rival country hadn't hired a Solo Regiment, Lurbourg would not have lost. For her this was unacceptable. It was for that reason she despised all Solos. When she inherited the throne of Lurbourg she would outlaw Solos in Lurbourg.
"Your Highness," a voice brought her back to the here and now.
Jessica looked over, "yes? What is it Lamia?"
Lamia Tuala smiled, "Aruna is going into Larkendon. She asked if you and I would like to go with her."
"I'm sure she has discovered some new pastry shop. The Duchess does have quite a sweet tooth," Jessica remarked.
Lamia giggled, "so would that be a yes, Highness?"
Jessica smiled to her friend, "why not. She's never failed us before. I'll meet you at the main door."
Jessica left and went to the stairs leading to the female dorms. There were multiple floors. The Gentry on the lowest floors, Low nobles on the next, high nobles on the next and the royals on the top floor. Jessica went to her room and checked herself over. She touched up her cosmetics then brushed her hair. Had she been at home her maid would have done that for her. At the Academy she didn't have such luxury. An Academy maid came into her room in the morning to clean, collect any clothing to be laundered and change the linens. She had met the maid only once and that was on the first day to unpack Jessica's luggage and verify instructions. Even though her parents informed her that the Academy staff were not there to wait on her immediately and for most things she would have to attend herself, she still didn't like it.
The first day of classes had a very harsh start for the young royal. She had never cared to pay attention to instructions by her maid before and therefore had no clue as to how to apply her own cosmetics or style her own hair. This lack of skill was instantly recognized by her classmates. Most of whom immediately laughed at her. During lunch a girl came to her and introduced herself as Lamia and offered to help. Hesistantly Jessica nodded and showed Lamia up to her dorm room. Twice per day for a week the young lower noble taught her a different style. Jessica was shocked to learn that Lamia even polished her own boots. Lamia informed her that her parents had insisted that she learn how to look after herself completely for a whole year before coming to the academy, including cleaning her own clothing and cooking her own meals. The Academy provided those services but Lamia did have the choice to live on her own. She chose to stay in the dorm, but saw to her own needs during the weekends. She was the first friend Jessica had made and was the closest of all.
Over half an hour later the three friends were sitting in a small eatery.
"Well Highness? Wasn't I right," Aruna asked rhetorically.
Jessica smiled, "of course Duchess. Your addiction for sweets has never led us astray before!"
All three laughed.
"What are you going on about," a woman asked loudly.
The three girls turned to look and saw the woman that had served them talking an old woman sitting at a table.
"She is here. The spirits have told me. Bolt your doors and dare not go out at night or she may see you," the old woman said.
Aruna walked over, "who is here Madam?"
"The Nightmare Rider. She is lurking about the village," the old woman said.
Lamia came over, "that can't be. I heard she was at the battle on Skeldar Plain last night. That's well over three hundred miles from here."
The old woman laughed, "That distance is nothing to one such as her!"
Jessica stood at the table, "we've all heard far-fetched stories of this so-called Nightmare Rider. Most are the ravings of madmen."
"A High-Borne, aren't you," the old woman smiled.
Jessica nodded, "I am. Her royal Highness, Jessica Weyden; Princess of Lurbourg."
"I'm Aruna Monning; Duchess of Eldistin. Tell us about the Nightmare Rider," Aruna asked.
The old woman nodded, "throughout time, even before time was understood, one thing has been constant. War. War rages in Heaven, Hell, and the planes in between. There is one understanding; Power begets power. Our mortal world has seen the occasional skirmish and grew to emulate and waged their own wars. One such war was the god of nightmares fought the goddess of punishment on the planes in between. They fought to a stand-still. With all their warriors exhausted it became a duel. Poena declared upon her victory Phoetor would serve in her dungeons for five years. Phoetor accepted her challenge, but upon his victory her fate would be declared to which she must accept without resistance. Poena agreed."
The three girls sat listening as did the shop owner standing close by.
The old woman continued the tale, "They clashed for days; neither gaining nor giving any quarter until Poena stumbled after a missed slash and her sword was struck from her grip. Phoetor was the victor. He demanded she send her army home and would be allowed to rejoin them after only three years, during which time she would serve as consort and produce an heir. Three years later Poena returned to her tower; clad in her old battle armor, alone and without the only daughter she would ever birth. The child grew in the father's court, watching battles fought in the distance. One day Phoetor declared the heiress to be cast out to learn the ways of battle."
"That's CRUEL," Lamia stated.
The old woman merely shrugged, "The Gods and Goddess do as they wish. The daughter wandered, clad in only the simple wrap of cloth from a bath. She happened upon a battleground and concealed herself to watch. Vulcan fought a strange god she had never seen. In a mighty move, the strange god knocked the sword from Vulcan's grip. The heiress grabbed it and approached them both unawares. From behind she struck and toppled the strange god. With sword held high she declared herself the victor and claimed her own rewards. From Vulcan she claimed his sword, scabbard and all the coins he had. From the strange god that had no name she claimed his cloak and all the coins he had."
"How very opportunistic! Where is the honor in that," Jessica protested.
Aruna said firmly, "nobody taught her of honor! She was only doing what she had to just to survive Highness! You would do the same! Please madam, tell us what happened after that."
The woman nodded, "The heiress continued to wander. Taking advantage of unguarded moments in battle to usurp victory and claim minor rewards; serving no one but herself. One day the heiress met the Furies and struck a bargain. For all of her coins they would make a set of armor that had never been known. She gave them the coins. The Furies panned the river Styx for rare minerals to make the metal Styxion, and created the armor. The heiress declared a name for herself then. It was then her age fixed. Some time later she happened upon a Lust, a demon that provoked actions of souls based on emotions, he was a BloodLust. The Lust had two souls enthralled and were battling each other. Foolishly the Lust challenged her to fight his two thralls for eternal servitude. She won in a single sword slash. The Lust bowed to his new mistress and gifted his name. Knowing a demon's true name gives control over the demon you know. Together they traveled into our mortal world. She has become known by us mortals as The Nightmare Rider."
The girls sat silently as the old woman finished her story.
"That's quite a tale Madam," Aruna stated.
"It is as the spirits have told me. I must go now. Night is coming and I will not be out after dark. Neither should you," the old woman said firmly then slowly rose and shuffled out.
Jessica looked over to the shop owner and chuckled, "She sure can spin a tale. I bet she could make a few coins with it."
The princess felt a chill when the woman shook her head slowly and said gravely, "That was no dark fairy tale. She is a witch. Her Goddess is Tamar. She can barely see ten feet in front her but that old witch is NEVER wrong."
Lamia reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and laid three coins on the table, "This should cover the old woman's tea."
Jessica looked at her for a moment, "She did have us. Quite right Lamia. I'll pay for yours and my sitting."
Aruna took the needed coins to pay for her own and added them to the ones Jessica stacked on their former table.
"Thank you. Are you really Princess Weyden and Duchess Monning," The shop owner asked.
Lamia giggled, "They are. I'm Lamia Tuala, merely a Lady but I'll be a Dame eventually."
"I'm honored you visited my little shop and hope you enjoyed," The shop owner said then gave then a deep curtsy. "I'm Anya. I hope to serve you again my Ladies."
"We did Anya. And we definitely SHALL return soon," Jessica stated then followed her friends out.
Idly they walked down the street, looking into the windows of the shops scattered among homes. For the most part the shops were easy to discern from the homes. Shops were marked with a sign of some kind and the homes were marked with a plaque declaring the name of the family.
"Highness why did you insist we walk all the way here and back. It would have been so much easier to ride," Aruna complained.
Jessica replied calmly, "walking strengthens our legs. Our legs need to be strong to help us stay in the saddle. I'd rather be slightly tired and have a little discomfort in my feet than be upon my backside in humiliation because I was unhorsed. No thank you Aruna, I'll walk this bit."
Lamia was waving at two children playing in their yard waving at them, "I heard Solo Fotens was going to win again but Sir Belvin stopped the match."
"Didn't he contest against Lorenz Dante? What happened for that," Aruna asked.
Jessica answered, "Dante was felled for two lances so Sir Belvin stopped the match. Dante was given the option of a final lance at a later time or full contest next week. He chose full contest. He wasn't doing so well as he left the course. Perhaps in a day or two he can go back to training, prepare for the match and win."
"My my! The way that sounded; one might think you could be afraid of facing Fotens. Is our friendly Princess a bit leery of someone after all," Aruna asked coyly.
Jessica glared at her, "Not in the slightest! I would win with ease, though that's hardly the point. He's a Solo. How dare he challenge me! How dare he even THINK to challenge me!"
Aruna knew she had just struck a nerve but decided to toy a bit, "oh? So its not about skill, which he clearly has. Its about him being a Solo."
"I'll face any royal. Its expected. I'll face any noble. That's my prerogative. I'll face most of the Gentry. Many of them are honorable and seek to further that honor through legitimate challenge. Some are quite formidable I'll admit. But a Solo? Completely unworthy and without any honor at all! The only exceptions are the First Regiment and Battalion. A necessary evil, but there should be an alternative," Jessica said firmly.
"I've seen Fotens ride. He sits solid in the saddle. His technique is about as perfect as I've ever seen and I heard he hits like a boulder coming off of a cliff. Even Lord Laanower admitted it," Lamia said.
Jessica huffed, "Talbar's lackey. Its hard to determine which is more despicable. Between their bullying of underclassmen and their ridiculous wagers; its hard to decide which is more appalling."
Aruna laughed, "Fotens got Laanower really good. He only accepted the challenge after Laanower agreed to standing points only. He lost ten to Fotens."
Lamia nodded, "Fotens wouldn't agree to any other wager."
"Just as well. Laanower would never have upheld his end. By agreeing to points the contest became legitimately sanctioned and the terms had to be met by the Academy. If others take that route it won't be long those two would have to repeat a year or go home." Jessica acknowledged.
Aruna laughed, "Are you admitting that he was clever?"
Jessica started walking again, "I'm admitting that he wasn't blatantly stupid. One can learn from the mistakes of others. Laanower wouldn't back down from issuing the challenge. However everyone knows that he's never paid up on a loss. The only time Talbar ever did was against a royal because there was proof of the wager and results of the contest. Otherwise he'd have never followed through either."
"I'm still thinking about the old woman's story," Lamia said.
Aruna asked, "That the Nightmare Rider is actually the daughter of an Underworld God and Goddess?"
Lamia nodded.
"Let's say that is true," Jessica mused. "Why would the Nightmare Rider show so much interest in mortal battles? Wouldn't she be better off fighting in the Underworld? Don't they gain power through worship or victories? She would have to gain enough power to have a kingdom there then she would be able to gather worshipers here right?"
Aruna shrugged, "That's how we think it works. The priests and priestesses tell us that but does anybody really know for sure? Odin is my God and Freya my Goddess, but do they really care about that? They've never come and told us so."
"Well I could say the same of Mars and Venus. My mother said she saw Venus once but they never spoke to each other," Lamia said.
Their conversation had carried them back to the Academy and through the gate. They were now entering the main door.
Jessica sighed, "I think we'd be better served focusing on the here and now with the tangible. We do what we can and the Gods and Goddesses will sort themselves out."
Patrick Fotens veered off the road onto a slightly overgrown path. He walked further and went into a line of trees and disappeared from sight. Deep in the forest he emerged into a clearing with a ramshackle house that looked almost derelict. The front door groaned in protest of being opened then again at being closed. He slid the bolt across and began to remove his jacket. He crossed the dusty and cobwebbed main room into a side room though not very clean, was at least free of the major dirt and webs. A single chair though was free of dust and the floor had been swept sometime previously as to not reveal footprints. Patrick removed his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair then sat down to pull off his boots.
"So you've returned from you daily quest for knowledge," a low voice commented.
Patrick grunted taking off the second boot and stood it beside the other, "your knack for the obvious is startling."
The voice chuckled, "a new euphemism. I see you're beginning to develop a fondness for sarcasm. So what have you learned in your dedicated pursuit?"
Patrick stood up and removed his pants, "The Gentry named Lorenz Dante. He was clearly beaten yet he wanted to continue. Then the strangest thing happened. I learned that in some cases, respectful acknowledgement of weakness is met with gratitude if there is promise to return."
"That is more confusing than normal. What do you mean," the voice asked.
Patrick folded the pants in half and hung them over the chair and began to unbutton the shirt to do the same, "I unhorsed him twice. The second time he was struggling to recover himself. The instructor determined that it was unwise to cross lances again. I told Dante that I was willing to offer him the final lance at a later time or we could revisit the entire match. I first complimented his ability to withstand my attack."
The voice replied, "yes. You've mentioned this before. Complimenting an adversary is a frequent custom during training. What happened?"
"He chose to revisit the match next week and was grateful for the opportunity. After classes he came to me and shook my hand then vowed to prepare even harder. He said he was indebted to me to become a stronger opponent for our return match and his honor would not be satisfied until I felt he had met me with all he could muster. Its very strange. He feels as if he did not fight with all he was worth and that I was being cheated of victory," Patrick said finally naked.
The young man walked forward into a darkened doorway to a cupboard. As he passed through, the cupboard was not there and instead was a large darkened room with a carved Onyx chair to resemble a throne atop a dais. In the young man's place there now stood a young woman with almost white blonde hair past her hips and clad in armor that revealed as much as it protected.
"You mean he felt as if he failed," the voice asked. "Isn't that the nature of defeat? To fail?"
No Daalumos. He felt he failed me. I don't understand it myself. He feels that the contest he gave me was not worthy of me and that I deserve a stronger opponent," She said.
A horse stepped from the deeper shadows. A horse that seemed to be partially composed of a molten fiery substance.
"But he was not worthy of you my Mistress. You were defeating him. Of course the mortal would feel that way. He is a mortal Phoebe," Daalumos replied.
"Mortals do puzzling things. Sometimes when they no they stand a chance of losing they will run away. Other times when they know without a doubt they will not survive they stand even firmly and fight to their last breath. This mortal feels as if he could have done better. Should have done better and only then can he accept victory or defeat when he has brought forth all that he can," Phoebe stated.
The bound demon shook himself, "it would not be that way among the Gods and Goddesses."
Phoebe sat back and mused, "perhaps this is more of a philosophy I heard before. Mortals not only compete against each other, but also themselves. I'm told many set standards for themselves and if they do not meet those self-imposed standards that is when they feel true failure. That may be this situation with Dante. He has not met his own standard and therefore did not bring to me true contest."
Daalumos laughed, "he failed himself and in doing so failed you? What strange notions come from mortals!"
"Strange as it may seem to us, the mortals take such things quite serious. Most of the time. I have begun to see this in the better riders. It is a trait that is shared more often in those of the lower class. The Gentry. These Nobles and Royals have it but not as pronounced. They will make up for the lack of ability with those who surpass it. The lower ones it makes them strive more ardently to overcome their weakness. I believe that will be Dante's choice. He will train harder than before to make himself worthy of the contest," Phoebe concluded.
Daalumos snorted, "as if a mortal could ever truly be worthy of you! Phoebe; the daughter of Phoetor and Poena."
Phoebe chuckled, "he is not having a contest with Phoebe. He is having a contest with Patrick."
"From the sound of that my Mistress, one would think you are starting to enjoy this charade of pretending to be a mortal. I thought I smelled food about your facade," Daalumos remarked.
"I do have to be seen consuming food from time to time. It was very interesting. It was a meat they call sausage that had been placed into a bread called a roll. They smeared a spiced paste between the meat and the bread. With this there was a packet of thinly sliced fried potato that was sprinkled with a finely ground salt. It was very easy to consume. I saw several doing so while they continued with their activity. Thinking about it now; I liked it," Phoebe stated then leaned back and closed her eyes.
Daalumos stood quietly. The Lust knew his mistress was searching for a battle. When her eyes opened some time later he roared in delight. Phoebe leapt onto his back and he bolted forward through a large archway and into the night leaving behind a trail of flickering hoof prints.
If you've liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please kudo. Comments are welcome. This is my first foray into the fantasy genre and I hope I do it well.
Chapter 2 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Daalumos ran leaving behind a flickering trail of hoof prints. He was able to pass in and out through shadows because of Phoebe's cloak, allowing them to cover even greater distances. For any other demon, being bound was a detestable thing. Relegated to a form such as horse and ridden would be even more insulting. For Daalumos it had some benefits. His appearance to mortals inspired fear. Fear was something he could feed on, but it was the desire to kill that was his main source of sustenance. He was a BloodLust. Being around entities that wanted to destroy each other was what fed him. Most times just being in his presence was enough to incite lesser beings' suppressed feelings. Their desire fueled him. Right now it was Phoebe's desire that was driving him. Once they entered the battle the emotions of the mortals would flow into him.
Their unbridled murderous hatred was for him. Their fear was her's. Phoebe fed upon the mortals' terror. She would feed on adoration but that came from worship. Those gave her power. It took only a little effort from her to overcome their rationale and trigger their outpouring of fear. Once their fear touched her it flowed back and forth, growing in intensity to become crippling terror. It was the fundamental law. Power begets Power. If they gave her a little she could then take all they had. Together Phoebe and Daalumos made quite the pair. Fear and murderous intent. Both meshed well together. Others would make such a combination or even better, however the individuals that mostly fed off those refused to collaborate. It was selfish of course, but not surprising. Power shared is power halved. A concept not endorsed or embraced by Gods and Goddesses. For them it was all or nothing, hence their constant battles. They fought for dominance. Phoebe and Daalumos fought for existence.
Perhaps one day they may fight the Gods and Goddesses, for now they fought to stay alive and it was far easier to do on the mortal plane. Here they were seen and were becoming known. After observing the mortals for a while Phoebe understood. Mortals had a way called Business. If a mortal wanted to do well in life they would need to provide something. In order to provide that something other mortals would have to be more aware of them than others that did the same. Something called Reputation. Daalumos found this fascinating. Reputation turned out to be not unlike worship. If a mortal provided on a reliable basis then others sought them out to do so. If one prayed, their God or Goddess bestowed favor. The more they worshiped; prayers and offerings, the more they were favored. Mortal business worked in much of the same manner. If a mortal provided something on a constant basis and of higher quality than others that did the same, then they would be favored above those others. Daalumos had then posed the question, is Business a religion? Phoebe thought about it then laughed for so it did seem.
They burst forth from a shadow and could see the two forces moving towards each other. Daalumos felt their desire rising as did Phoebe as swords and lances clashed.
The bound demon laughed, "shall we conduct our Business my Mistress?"
"Indeed! Let us 'Corner our market'," Phoebe replied with mirth.
Daalumos felt his power increasing, "a new euphemism. And I actually think I can understand that one. You're gaining quite the collection."
Shouts of aggression were coming from everywhere. A moment later those shouts became ones of alarm as Phoebe drew her sword and broke into the battle line. Phoebe was surprised to immediately feel fear surge all around her. She had yet to even spur the mortals. They recognized her and her mount. Instantly they were wracked with fear. Those further on became angry that she had come to their battle. That anger grew as they now wanted to fight her as well for interfering. Several turned away from their mortal enemy to charge at her. The BloodLust felt their intent and his power surged from it. He enthralled them, forcing their rage to spike to frenzy. Many of the mortals no longer cared in their quest to attack. Foot soldiers began hacking and slashing their way forward while the cavalry simply trampled over any in their path. This caused many to turn and engage their rampaging comrades in anger.
Phoebe felt power flowing into her as she rode Daalumos deep into the fray. Her sword of Vulcan cleaving through metal and man alike as if they were no more resistance than cutting through water. Suddenly she heard a whisper. it was barely there but she heard a voice. She tried to listen and it became clearer.
"Rider; My Lady. Grant me strength. Let my enemies fear me in your name. I Give unto you this gift," a voice whispered.
Phoebe felt as if she drank of something rich and looked around. She saw a young man with a slight glow about him. He had cut into his own arm with his sword and was bleeding onto the ground. That was when she realized what was happening. She was being worshiped. Her power immediately increased. She looked on the young man and saw a type of Glamour cover him. He looked larger and more aggressive. Another soldier facing him began to shrink back.
Phoebe whispered, "go now. Inspire their terror in the name of Phoebe whom you serve."
The empowered soldier charged forward, slashing at the enemy soldiers in front of him, "WITH MY SWORD, HAVE YOUR SACRIFICES!"
Phoebe was not the only one who's attention the young soldier caught. Daalumos discovered him as well and shrieked his delight. There was a mania coming from him and it felt wonderful to the demon. Like water being added to a barrel one cup at a time, power flowed to them. It was different from the rest. It was clearer, more refined, pure and intense.
Phoebe added to what she had bestowed on him and he continued to move, carving a greater swath through the opposing forces. The fear and rage increased and was purified to flow into Phoebe and Daalumos. An idea struck him. With a mind shattering shriek the bound demon surged forward then circled around. He began separating a group of mortals that looked different than the one worshiping Phoebe. Slowly he began directing them toward him. They had two options, try to fight the enraged warrior that seemed possessed or fall to the unearthly woman riding the frightening horse-like creature that was cutting through everything in her path. They chose the former. Seeing their comrades falling to him instilled a greater intent to kill him in retaliation. He was driven to kill in the name of her whom he was now worshiping. Daalumos had no need to hold either in thrall, they wanted to of their own will. The culled group's fear was building as they continued to lose to the anvil and hammer they were caught between.
A knight came from the side and drove his plasma lance through the single warrior. The heart was missed though and he twisted, ripping the lance from the Knight's hand as he continued to ride on through a sweeping arc to return to his own battle line.
Phoebe looked as her worshiper fell to his knees. The others began to advance on him; knowing that he was weaker now and vulnerable.
"A FINAL GIFT TO YOU! In the name of my Lady, Phoebe the Nightmare Rider I give her; MYSELF," he called out then flung himself onto his own sword.
The advancing soldiers froze as they saw his Glamour shatter. A glow surrounded him then streak toward her and surround her and the demon in horse-form. Daalumos reared up on his hind legs and let out a hideous shriek as Phoebe screamed in rage. The power that had been coming to them spiked suddenly, but with the feeling that it would fade soon. Phoebe spurred Daalumos hard and he leapt forward into the group of now terrified foot soldiers as Phoebe began slashing through them. The moment of courage shattered back into crippling fear and their minds broke from the visions that had filled them.
"FALL BACK! FALL BACK! RETREAT MEN! FOR YOUR LIVES; RETREAT," leaders on both sides called out to what remained of their troops.
In seconds the battle was over as the troops had withdrawn far enough that Phoebe would have to chase after them. Leaving her and Daalumos the bloodied field strewn with bodies. She watched as they faded into the dark distance then finally climbed down.
"I don't understand. What just happened to us," Phoebe asked.
The BloodLust craned his neck to nod at the fallen soldier, "he sacrificed himself in your name before they could take him in their rage or other worship. Such a gift is powerful but fleeting."
Phoebe looked down at the body, "so what now?"
"It looks like he has no one to honor him or his tribute. I think you will have to do so yourself in some manner. What do you think would be fitting for a sacrifice to yourself of one who worshiped you," Daalumos asked.
Phoebe looked around and simply took that which was at hand. A collection of swords were jammed into the ground after their ornament were removed. With her Vulcan sword she removed the device on four shields and laid them atop the swords. Finally she selected pieces of armor that were attractive yet plain and fixed them onto his body and placed him on the makeshift alter. Using the tip of her sword she carefully inscribed onto another shield using the language of the Underworld.
Phoebe took discarded lances and fashioned an arch and hung bare shields inscribed with her name. Daalumos decided to contribute and grabbed some of the fallen that wore the same colors as the worshiper had using his mouth and arranged them into a kneeling position facing inward. He snorted as they continued to fall over. Phoebe retrieved their swords and jammed them into the ground and moved them to lean against them. The scene now looked as if they were in prayer over the one. She forced a pair of coins into each one's hand then stood back to inspect again.
"How does that look," Phoebe asked.
Daalumos shook himself, "its your tribute, what do you think?"
Phoebe walked around it then frowned, "something feels missing. That it's not entirely mine."
The bound demon snorted, "you inscribed your name. What more should there be?"
Phoebe looked around then stared at a shield and pointed, "a symbol! I need a device of some kind."
Daalumos stamped his front leg, "they do seem to be in fashion."
Phoebe stared at one of the shields she had cleaned of its emblem then slowly used her sword tip to engrave first a horse rearing up surrounded by flame then blackened them to seem in shadow.
"There. That works. It even has you," Phoebe said proudly.
He laughed, "many thanks my Mistress. I'll admit I do find it pleasing. The hour is late. Collect your trinkets the mortals covet and let us go."
"Yes. There is nothing left for us here," Phoebe said then went about collecting up the coins she could find.
The coins held no real value for her, but her alter-ego Patrick had use for them. She ended up with well over a hundred that she put into a pair of bags. Phoebe climbed onto Daalumos' back and they set off at a less hurried pace. They returned to her place. She could easily become clean with a thought, but instead she stripped her armor and went into a room with a large bath. She relaxed in the water and let her thoughts drift back. She had never been worshiped before. For certain she had heard prayers from mortals that wished to be spared from her but that was different. Merely words that meant nothing to her. The man's prayer to her was different. She hadn't heard it with her ears, she had heard it with her mind and felt compelled to respond. She felt pleased. That pleasure was short lived and ended when he was struck. The power being given to her intensified but felt like sand slipping through her fingers then was gone.
Suddenly she felt something and sat up. Quickly she left the bath and ran to the other room.
"What is this," she asked in confusion.
Daalumos looked to be quivering, "I don't know. Whatever this is, I like it!"
Phoebe felt a warmth begin within herself and began to make her way over to her throne and sat. The feeling began to increase and she was soon panting and shaking. Her eyes drifted closed and her vision drifted in search of the source. Soon she saw the battlefield they had been at. Soldiers were gathering in front of her fallen worshiper and lamenting him. A man in different colors was pointing at the shield across his chest and reading it. She could hear his words.
"None of the men did this my Liege. It had to have been her. She did this herself to honor him," an old man said pointing.
Another man wearing the colors and armor of the group stated, "one of the men said he thought he heard him pray to her then saw him give of his own blood before berserking. Could it be that she is a Goddess we've never heard of before. He worshiped her and she rewarded him for it?"
The older man scratched at his bearded chin, "this is possible. For now let us bring him back to the kingdom and bury him in the sacred place not dedicated to one God or Goddess. Bring everything and it shall be the same there as it is here. It may not appease this Phoebe but it should not anger her. Have a scribe draw a depiction of this so we will be sure of how to remake it correctly."
Within minutes a boy was sitting on the ground drawing onto a tablet what he saw. He got up a few times and walked around it to make sure the drawing was correct.
The Lord came up and asked, "well boy? Do you have it accurately?"
He held out the tablet, "yes my Liege."
The Lord looked at the drawing and back to the real thing then circled around, "that looks accurate."
"Yes Sire," he said then frowned.
The Lord looked at him, "what? Speak up?"
The boy pointed to everything, "Sire she used what was immediately at hand. If we wanted to make sure that she isn't angry for distrubing it then we should make it better. If the new thing shows that we took care to honor her and the sacrifice made to her then she should see that we are being respectful. We'll have the time if I run ahead to gather what's needed."
He then sketched an idea that had been forming as he explained. When done the Lord nodded and sent the young man ahead, even demanding a horse to hasten him along. By sunrise the young man was ready for the arrival. He consulted his new sketch and positioned the swords then shields. Two soldiers carefully placed his body atop as before then the young man draped a black cloth over him. The Lord nodded as the young man directed long bladed halberds to form the canopy. The shields she had inscribed with her symbol were permanently mounted to them. At the opening, his sword was fixed between two stones clamping it in place and the inscribed shield hung from it.
"Well done boy. Indeed this does look respectful," The Lord stated.
The young man stepped forward, "Lady Phoebe, Mistress of Nightmares. We could not leave our comrade on the field away from his friends and family. We hope that you will still feel the honor here in this place and know that we have done this with respect to you. I hope you hear me and are pleased with."
The boy froze in place before he could finish his sentence. Everyone there withdrew when he dropped to his knees gasping.
"What is it boy? Is she angry? What should we do," the Lord demanded.
"She is pleased. I heard her. I heard her clearly! My Lord. Phoebe the Nightmare Rider charges us. Every year on this night eight soldiers are to come here in full battle dress. They must chime their swords to his and say his name and what he was to Her. This must be done as he did fight for you in her name," the boy said standing up and shaking slightly.
The Lord turned, "then I shall be the first. Captain I leave the rest to you. Boy I charge you, see to it this is done."
The Lord drew his sword and tapped it to the hilt of the upright sword, "Varumar Colhander. Fallen WarPriest to Lady Phoebe; Mistress Rider of Nightmares. Honored Dead."
One by one others came forward to repeat the act and incantation. Each felt a bit calmer afterward and left. The young man bowed and said the incantation. He felt her powerful presence leave him gently.
The dining hall came to low buzz half way through lunch. Jessica was seated at a table with the other Princesses and noticed them watching people from other tables talking rapidly. Their attention was so rapt that Jessica finally became annoyed.
"Oh for the sake of all that is," She turned around and was surprised to see all the conversations going on.
She glanced around and saw Aruna. She waved her over. Except for the staff, no one could approach a royal table without invitation. Aruna came over and crouched down.
"What is going on Duchess Monning," Jessica asked.
Aruna answered, "there's news Highness. The Nightmare Rider was seen again! She had a priest but he was a soldier. A WarPriest! He died and she built a shrine for him right there on the battlefield after it was over. She did it herself!"
Jessica looked at her, "that doesn't make sense. Only a God or a Goddess can have a WarPriest but I've never heard of one building a shrine or anything for one that died. No God or Goddess does that. Right?"
"I've never heard of it myself, Highness. I don't know of it ever being done. Let's ask in History," Aruna suggested.
Jessica nodded to her. Aruna stood up and curtsied quickly then went back to her table. All of the other Princesses had been listening and they were looking just as, if not more confused than Jessica.
Jessica looked around and sighed, "as interesting as it all is, it will be hard to search for answers to bizarre questions on an empty stomach. Let us at least finish lunch. That surely is something we CAN understand."
The others chuckled and went back to eating. When they were done they took their trays with plates over to the side and set them on a counter where a worker took them. Jessica stopped at a restroom to check her appearance then went to her class. In the class again there was animated conversations in low voices. The only one not participating was Patrick Fotens.
'I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. He never concerns himself with gossip. Even if its about himself,' She thought to herself then took her seat.
"Hey Patrick. Did you hear about last night," A Third year Gentry asked.
Jessica refused to look, but did listen. She was curious about his reply.
Patrick didn't look up from his tablet, "seems to be the major conversation Lorcon."
"Yeah but what do you think," the teen asked.
Patrick shrugged, "I think it's none of my business since I don't know anybody that was there. If it really bothers you talk to Dame Ayalla. She knows more about history than we do."
Emmin Lorcon shook his head, "wow. Not what I expected. Come on Patrick. I know you're a Solo but you need to stay up to date on stuff."
Patrick shifted his tablet, "I am a Solo. Who I fight for and against can change daily. The day you take a side for reasons other than pay, its time to sign up. Can't get personally involved Lorcon. That's how you make mistakes. Mistakes lose battles. I don't do personal and I don't do free."
"Oh yeah? What about that rematch for Dante," Lorcon said slyly.
Now Jessica was really listening. She wanted to hear this.
Patrick shook his head, "that's neither personal nor free. Outside of combat its unprofessional to take advantage of an opponent that is incapacitated. By freezing our positions I also gain time to observe my adversaries. I didn't gain points in the standings but I did gain points to my reputation because I remained professional."
The Gentry dropped his head to the desktop, "man; you're way too hardcore."
"What was it you said the other day? Don't hate the player, hate the game? Go with that," Patrick remarked.
Emmin Lorcon groaned at being bested with his own words. Jessica on the other hand was equally appalled and amused. She didn't want to be, but was.
"I'll admit, I don't like Solos. But one should be true to themselves and what they are," Jessica said then fought not to gasp in shock that she had said anything at all.
Patrick looked directly at her, "lies should not become you Weyden. You have a hatred for Solos. You feel you have reason so go ahead. I'm not a fool. I know that I may very well fight with or against you all one day. Its not personal for me, nor should it be for you. You are correct on that last part. One should be true to themselves and what they are."
Jessica fought to keep her calm, "its Princess Weyden."
Patrick shrugged, "not my Princess. I am a Solo. Outside the Academy the only authority I have to recognize is that which is paying me at the time. Those are the rules. I follow the rules and no one can ever legitimately claim that I don't."
Everyone had gone quiet at the beginning of the conversation. It was no secret how Jessica Weyden felt about Solos, so for her to engage in a conversation with one had been shocking to the class.
Jessica spat back angrily, "I should have known better than to pay compliment to a Solo!"
As soon as the words left her mouth she immediately wished they hadn't. Anyone was free to discuss a Solo in a positive or negative context, but never to them. It was a sign that you wanted to be in their favor without pay. Implicating that they would owe you. In short, a high insult.
Patrick looked at her calmly and said, "with your abilities, I'm sure your family will find a fine diplomat for you to be the wife of."
Jessica's anger was barely being held back. The door was now open. She insulted first, he returned it. Now it was her choice; she could pretend to be amused and let it go, which would end things there. Or she could issue challenge for her honor that she herself had tarnished and go to immediate contest. Both had pro's and con's. Everyone knew that a first born was expected to be a knight and the youngest sibling a diplomat or clergy, depending on how many children there were. Jessica being an only child was expected to be a Knight. Everyone knew that. She insulted him first which showed less character and severely lacking in maturity. If she took his return insult and blew it off it would show that she could face a mistake with good grace.
If she demanded challenge then it would show that she would provoke a fight over nothing and demand deference. A fight she absolutely could not lose. This was not for the Academy, it was personal. Something that could not be allowed. Fotens would determine some form of payment should he be victorious if she issued personal challenge. Payment she would have to concede if she lost. The problem was that he could name anything.
"Don't do it," Lamia whispered behind her.
Jessica glared at Patrick. He wasn't smiling, smirking, glaring or anything. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. Before she could think about it again she sealed her fate.
"My abilities that are far superior to yours and I have no problem proving them against the likes of you," Jessica said hotly.
Patrick Fotens turned around, "it'll cost you Weyden."
Jessica knew she was over the line but she had jumped off that cliff on her own, "of course. You are a Solo. So what shall it be? A dinner date or some such humiliation?"
"I'm not a masochist. One hundred coins and the sword you're wearing," Patrick said flatly.
Jessica twitched as if stung. The coins were not an issue, but the demand for the sword was a slap. Her sword was an heirloom that had been passed down the knighted women of her family for generations. To demand this was worse than a peasant boy claiming a virgin's underwear that had been signed by her. The problem was she couldn't refuse. To refuse meant that she did not have the ability to defeat him and would be admitting it openly. Now she had no choice but win, because she would have to hand it over without protest if she lost.
"Agreed," she ground out between her teeth.
"So be it," Dame Ayalla said loudly from the doorway.
Everyone wanted to cringe now. Their instructor had been listening for some time apparently.
The instructor walked in with her hands clasped behind her back and scrutinized them, "well I'm not such a fool as to think I'd be able to teach any of you anything today. Class adjourned to the arena. Weyden, Fotens. You'll need squires."
Jessica stated loudly, "Duchess Monning and Lady Tuala for myself."
Patrick set two coins on his desktop, "whomever wants to earn a coin each."
Lorcon reached over and took one, "Lorcon; Lance."
"Wazley. Armor," a girl stepped over and took the other coin.
Dame Ayalla nodded, "that's it then. Make ready."
The class left for the arena. Jessica went to the royals' wardroom followed by Aruna. Lamia went to the armory and retrieved a set of lances. Emmin Lorcon was there doing the same. He looked over at her.
Lamia shook her head, "I'd rather not talk about this."
Emmin sighed, "I understand. For what it's worth, you're a good friend. She's going to need that after this."
Tuala nodded and left, carrying the five wooden lances. They were only allowed to use wooden lances in the Academy for safety. Some tried to provide their own, especially when dueling. Usually because they were modified in some way to injure the opponent. Sometimes they even had them made to look identical to the Academy lances. That was the catch though. If caught using a lance modified to injure an opponent more than a standard lance it was grounds for expulsion and forfeiture of Knighthood.
That was the universal law. Only the Academy could infer Knighthood. Without it, no matter what title held, it was lower than any with Knighthood and could not battle outside their own borders unless as a registered Solo. One must graduate the Academy to become a Knight. Knights could go to war for themselves or to aid an ally. Without Knighthood, or registering as a Solo, one can only defend their own home. In sanctioned duels the Academy's rules were absolute. Unsanctioned duels were on the honor system. You had to trust the other party to be fair. Unsanctioned duels with First years were forbidden. Second years faced penalties of detention, which consisted of performing Academy work. Third years were allowed and Fourth years usually had one or two to their name already but refused them due to being more concerned with pursuit of points.
Lamia went to the side she knew Jessica favored and set the lances on the rack. One thing Lamia knew for certain, Patrick Fotens would not cheat. He would rely on strength and techniques. He left underhanded tricks to lesser riders. Jessica was the same. If she could not ride honorably then she refused to ride. Lamia waited patiently as the stands filled. She became uncomfortable when she started seeing people recognized as Fourth years. Even more so when she saw the council president, Countess Fiona Doucet. Very few disliked the Countess. She was beautiful and charming with a sense of humor she flaunted. Lamia was tempted to laugh when she saw the Countess crowd close to a Gentry that looked like a First year and say something that made him cringe. Obviously she had said something with a double meaning to tease him. That was to be expected of her by now. It was her favorite pastime as all knew.
The sound of hooves behind her alerted Lamia to Jessica's approach. Lamia went to the the archway and raised her arm. A moment later Emmin Lorcon did the same.
"IN CHALLENGE; PRINCESS JESSICA WEYDEN. IN CONTEST SOLO PATRICK FOTENS," Sir Belvin announced over the speakers.
Jessica entered the arena with her left arm high. Her armor was a bright silver with blue hue to it, polished to high sheen. Aruna carried her helmet and shield. She faced the crowd and pumped her fist twice then took her starting position. Patrick at the other end did the same. The plain finish of his armor showed every mark from hits taken.
Helmets were donned then shields held. slowly Patrick lowered his visor and took the lance from Lorcon and adjusted his horse's position. Jessica snapped her visor down and took the lance from Lamia and gripped it.
"Battle Mars," Jessica said.
The robotic horse now would no longer respond to prompts from the reins, it would only respond from directives from her feet and knees. Spurring it with her heels would make it go forward, tapping with her toes would make him reverse. Pressure from her knees directed him left or right.
"Daemon. Battle," Patrick was heard.
An arena assistant went to the middle point of the lanes and held a flag out straight. He looked from one to the other then raised it and ran to the side.
"YAAAA," Jessica exclaimed and her robotic horse launched himself forward.
Patrick's horse bolted from a stand-still. He settled within three strides and got into a rhythm riding down the lane toward the other end. Jessica was doing the same. From watching him before she knew he usually angled his shield slightly inward and pitched it back. This would make the lance tip glance up and across while he tucked in tight to strengthen his own impact which would be high and to the inside of the center of a shield.
Jessica smiled as they drew close, aiming for the outside of center of his shield. That's when she noticed it was all wrong. He was sitting straight in the saddle. Jessica's smile evaporated as she saw too late that Patrick shifted slightly to an inside angle and his lance arm darted forward a few inches. Everyone in the stands watched in confusion, and Jessica in horror as her lance skid off Patrick's shield harmlessly between them as his own lance slammed her backwards. She literally flipped over backwards in the air to land facing the soft dirt amid the debris of a shattered lance.
The assemblage exclaimed in wonder. This was a new tactic they hadn't seen used by him before. Some cheered for Patrick and others shouted encouragement to Jessica as she clambered to her feet. The arena assistant rushed over and helped her remount as Patrick trotted back to his end. He dropped the shattered lance and took up its replacement from Lorcon.
"I think she was expecting you to do something completely different," Jenette Wazley remarked.
Patrick flexed his legs to settle into his saddle, "yes."
Jenette normally would offer advice as a squire, but she had the very distinct feeling Patrick already had his strategy already planned.
"Need anything," She asked just to be sure.
"I'm good. Thanks," Patrick replied and moved back to starting position.
At the other end Jessica adjusted her shield then took up her lance again.
"Ok that was totally new. Aim for the center of his shield. Even if he angles it you'll still connect enough. Angle your own to deflect in and down. Lean slightly forward to make his lance pitch down and beside. Keep your lance tucked in solid. Don't try to push him off. Just bring him to a hard stop so gravity drops him," Aruna informed her.
"Ok. I'll try that," Jessica said then flexed her legs then urged Mars to the starting position.
The stands were a riot now, cheers for the two going back and forth. The assistant held out the flag then raised and ran clear.
Daemon lunged and began running to carry Patrick down the lane. Mars threw himself forward to race to the opposite end. The opposing riders closed on each other. Jessica felt the solid connecting hit of her lance to Patrick's shield and saw it break but then realized he had absorbed her hit and let his lance arm soften as he made contact then stiffened. Jessica felt herself lifted off then fall directly to the ground. She managed somehow to twist slightly on the way down and land on her left side.
The crowd roared again but Jessica ignored them as she rolled over and clambered to her feet. The assistant ran over and helped her remount again and handed up the shield and lance. Jessica trotted over to her end and discarded the lance. She flipped up her visor and took a drink of water. Luckily she had landed without getting the wind knocked out of her.
"Its two to nothing Aruna. My lance broke, but he still took me off my horse. What now," Jessica asked.
Aruna looked at her and said firmly, "go faster, lean forward more then angle more just as he connects. Forget pitching down. Just deflect down the side. Don't change your aim though. Dead center. If you feel he's solid, shove your shield up and back. Try to roll him off then tighten up for your hit."
"Right," Jessica nodded then handed the bottle back to Aruna.
Lamia handed the replacement lance up after Jessica snapped her visor down. Patrick waited at the starting position. he had two lances left in the rack. Jessica had three. If she stood any chance she would have to stay on her horse, break her own lance on him at least and make his lance deflect off intact. The flag went and the two riders launched themselves at each other. Jessica urged Mars harder and felt him lengthen his stride to cover more ground. Just as they closed to contact she threw herself forward, twisted inward and tightened her torso and lance arm tightly. To everyone's amazement her lance shattered in a loud clash as Patrick was laid flat to his horse's back. Patrick's lance had slid across the width of Jessica's shield.
The stands erupted with a cheer. Apparently everyone liked a comeback. Jessica held the broken lance high as Mars trotted back to her starting point. Many called out to Patrick with encouragement as he passed. He didn't go back to his squires, but merely turned Daemon around at his starting point and re-settled himself to wait.
Jessica discarded the lance and flipped up her visor to drink from the bottle again.
Aruna smiled, "Solid hit Highness! Now he's going to expect you to either do the same since it worked but more likely assume you'll try to go the other way to catch him off guard."
Jessica tried not to nod in agreement but smiled in satisfaction, "sit straight up, angle out leaning back on his contact then hold tight. Aim just low of center dead-on."
The young Duchess smiled, "bring him down!"
"Yes," Jessica replied and handed off the bottle.
The princess adjusted the grip of her shield then snapped the visor down and took up the new lance. Mars pranced over to the start. Jessica settled into the saddle and waited. The assistant checked both riders then signaled to start. Both horses launched into running. Mars had the lighter mount so closed in faster. Jessica flexed as Patrick's lance came to her shield. She twisted away from him. His lance slid outward and down. Her lance slammed in exactly where she aimed and in fact was braced by her shield. Jessica almost whooped as her lance shattered and pushed him almost off while his lance was ripped from his grip and fell away.
Lamia was standing close to Aruna, "was that my imagination?"
Aruna shook her head slightly, "no I saw it too. He shifted into the hit. He probably let go of the lance intentionally too."
"Do you think he'll take it to a fifth charge and draw or bring her down," Lamia asked.
The Duchess sighed, "no. He's going to bring her down on this run. He's going to bring her down really hard."
Jessica had returned and was smiling. Aruna handed up the bottle again.
"This is it Jessica. He's going to try bringing you down again. He's going to aim straight and true for dead center and just hammer you out of the saddle. You'll have to do the same and hold as tight as you can to stay on," Aruna warned her.
Its was rare that Aruna called her by name only. Jessica knew to do so meant she was deathly serious.
"Wait. Are you saying that he gave me that one," Jessica said angrily in a low voice.
The Duchess nodded slightly. Jessica jerked her head around to stare at him down at the other end already in position and waiting.
"That BASTARD," she hissed. "I should call for that charge to be disregarded!"
Aruna said quietly, "not if you're smart you won't! Don't you dare be that stupid!"
Jessica was about to spout back then closed her mouth. Her friend was right. If she disputed the charge then it would reset the contest and they would have to go a full five for five lances and he would make sure he brought her down each time.
Lamia handed up the new lance, "hit him with all your worth princess."
Jessica adjusted her grip then snapped her visor down and went to the start position. She flexed forward and shifted.
At the other end Wazley muttered to Lorcon, "somebody looks really mad."
"Doesn't matter now. The damage is already done. Princess Weyden is about to become VERY acquainted with the ground," Emmin said firmly.
Jenette sighed, "Freya find mercy for her."
The flag went up and the riders charged each other.
"You'd be better off asking for Thor to strike everybody with lightning," Lorcon said watching Patrick's horse streak down the lane.
Jessica tightened up and leaned forward, aiming for dead-center of Patrick's shield. No tricks, no gimmicks or tactics. The lances hit and smashed against the shields. Jessica felt herself being flung back and slamming into the ground. The arena went silent as a graveyard. Aruna and Lamia rushed to Jessica. Gently they sat her up and raised her visor.
"Bring me my purse," Jessica said in a heavy voice. "And my. Sword."
Lamia ran from the arena as Aruna helped her up. A couple of minutes later Lamia returned and handed them over. Jessica took them then walked over to where Patrick had just slid off his horse. He took off his helmet and handed it to Jenette Wazley.
Jessica handed the small bag to Patrick, "There's a hundred coins in there. Count them if you want."
Patrick felt the bag, "its there."
Slowly she extended the sword, "my sword."
"I heard that sword's been passed down fifteen generations," Patrick commented.
Jessica nodded, "at least. From mother to daughter."
Patrick took his helmet and shield from Jenette, "generations you disgraced. Send it home and tell your mother not to give it back until you've learned some manners. Don't ever let me see it again or I'll take claim. You watch your mouth around Solos."
Patrick turned and walked away, "Daemon."
The robotic horse followed his master as they left the arena. Lorcon and Wazley went in the same direction. Aruna and Lamia subtly turned Jessica and walked back with her as the stands emptied amid discussion of the duel.
"Mars. Go with Aruna," Jessica said.
Lamia collected the lances and went to turn them in. Aruna took Jessica's horse, along with her shield and helmet. Jessica made it inside the tunnel then collapsed to the wall and bawled. She stayed there for minutes then felt someone close and looked over. Lorenz Dante leaned casually against the wall.
"Princess you did the absolute most DUMBEST thing in the whole world going up against him," Lorenz said flatly.
Jessica sniffled, "says the guy that said he wanted a full rematch with him."
Dante laughed, "like I had a choice? If I said just the one lance he owed me I'd have been humiliated. He offered the full rematch to save my ass from my father! I owe him BIG. The problem is he can't go easy on me. I can't throw the match either. He has to go full out on me now. I have to do the same. How can I settle my debt to him?"
Jessica gave him a blank look, "I have no idea."
"When we take the ground I have to offer him something. The only thing I can think of for him is armor and shield. But I can't just say I'm going to give it to him. It doesn't work that way. I have to challenge him for it. When he wins, and he WILL win, I tell him that I'll be proud to gift him the armor. That's my situation. Yours is even worse," Lorenz remarked.
"Worse? How can my situation be any worse," Jessica asked in disbelief.
The young man looked straight at her and informed her, "this contest you just did was personal. When he beats me; you're going to have to face him. ALL. OVER. AGAIN."
Jessica Weyden felt her stomach turn over, "OH NO!"
Dante nodded grimly, "yes. He won't play. He's going to completely decimate you. Here's the only advice I can give you. I hope you take it. Do exactly what he told you to do. Send that sword home. When you face him again you go all out but do it fair. No playing around. Give him the best contest you got. That may be the only way to save yourself. Be respectful from now on. You took your personal crap out on him and he rammed it down your throat. Get over that or at least don't ever do it around him again."
"If I anger him personally again he'll inflict a permanent humiliation on me. Won't he," Jessica asked fearfully.
Lorenz turned and started walking away, "I wouldn't want to find that out if it were me. I suggest you find some kind of class about manners. Do it quickly."
Jessica slumped her shoulder and began walking to the royal's wardroom. He was right. She didn't want to find out.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 3 of
The Nightmare Rider |
"Daemon. Stall," Patrick ordered.
The robotic horse stepped back into the space then stopped. The small panel behind its left foreleg opened and a cable unwound. Patrick took the end and plugged it into the receptacle. The horse shut down. Patrick turned and went to the wardroom.
Jenette Wazley followed him inside. She took his helmet and set it on the shelf of his cupboard then hung the shield on the back wall.
Patrick took off his gauntlets and passed them to her, which she put away then moved around behind him.
"Anything hurt," she asked and began unfastening the torso section.
Patrick shook his head, "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
"Just earning my pay," Jenette replied taking the front and back pieces and setting them on the stand.
Anyone else would have laughed or made some snide comment since she wasn't a Solo. Patrick was a Solo, and that was actually the correct response.
Patrick sighed and rolled his neck as the right arm pieces were disconnected. Long ago, when armor was made of conventional iron and steel, a full suit was extremely heavy. There was a specific order to the application and removal. Feet, legs then hips in that order. Forearms, upper-arms then torso followed. Gauntlets and helmet were last. Normally the helmet was not donned until on the field and removed when coming off or immediately after the contest. After both his arms were free of the armor he rolled his shoulders. The hip section was slowly removed yet one hand lingered.
Patrick had closed his eyes as he had been working out the slight stiffness he felt in his left shoulder and asked, "something wrong?"
"No. Something VERY nice," a smooth voice purred.
"What's on your mind Doucet," Patrick asked flatly.
The Countess and Head of Student Council tried not to giggle, "there was something before I came in. I've gone totally blank though."
Patrick sighed, "right. I do want to finish getting out of my armor."
"NOVEL IDEA," Fiona exclaimed.
She continued to remove the remaining pieces for his legs and boot coverings and set them in the cupboard then looked over at him. Patrick toe'd off his boots and she set them inside the cupboard. his socks followed but were dropped into a laundry bag.
Patrick wore only a pair of small shorts and an undershirt. He pulled the shirt off and dropped it into the bag. Fiona Doucet leaned back against another cupboard and watched him. Patrick took a towel from the stack and looked over at her.
"Shower," Patrick said to her.
"OKAY," Fiona said enthusiastically, smiled and began to unbutton her jacket.
Patrick shook his head, "just me Doucet. What did you come to talk about?"
The Countess pouted slightly, "spoilsport. You know profit and fun can happen at the same time."
"I doubt I'll meet your expectations and have to give the money back," Patrick commented.
Fiona smiled as she tapped a long nailed fingertip to the edge of her teeth and purred, "you don't know what my expectations are."
Patrick sighed and went to the showers. Fiona moved to stand at the end of the row as he stepped inside one and removed the shorts and hung them and the towel on a hook outside. She waited until he was finished. He was mostly dried and came out with the towel wrapped around his waist.
"One day you're going to run that noble mouth of yours to the wrong person and wind up on the floor making a racket considered to be beneath your station," Patrick remarked.
Fiona reached in and took out a clean pair of the shorts to hold them out for him, "oh?"
Patrick wanted to shake his head as he took them from her. She acted like she was trying to peek hoping the towel slipped free. It was game she often played. He had been informed of her antics when he met the other Solos. The Countess had taken her position as Council Head in her third year and immediately began to make her own mark. Other females had held the position but none were overly friendly towards the Solos. Some even commented that she secretly envied them. The speculation about her virtue was a quiet joke, but no one would ever speak that she was anything other than virgin. Mostly the gossip was that she was the consummate tease and her favorite targets were underclass men of any rank and Solos of any year. Patrick, with his looks, immediately caught her eye. The revelation of his skill kept it. She had even gone so far as to say she hoped he made it to tournament and did well so she could ride against him.
Countess Fiona Doucet was admired both on the field and off. On the field she was formidable, with both strength and technique, frequently unhorsing her opponents. Off the field she was beautiful, charming and kind. She also had the reputation of being more than a little playful in her interaction with males. She enjoyed her flirting when it was taken with grace and returned in kind. More than one noble, and even a royal, regretted it turning sharp when they became lewd towards her. She seemed to always know something embarrassing about them that they didn't want known. That was something the Solos didn't share. They had no embarrassing secrets and couldn't be backed down.
Many royals and nobles were often hypocritical, which was looked down upon. The slightest compromise of their honor was something that could be exploited. Solos were different in that they had a code that they didn't make up as they went along. It was set and they adhered to it, which was documented. For a Solo it was all about the deal. A deal made was a deal kept to the very end. The only time there was any deviation was after the terms were met. A Solo could refuse a pay out if they chose, but had to have a better reason to refuse than accept. That was the reason Fiona was in the wardroom with Patrick Fotens currently. She had her suspicions but wanted to know for sure.
"That was quite the contest out there," Fiona said watching Patrick get dressed into his uniform.
Patrick was buttoning his shirt, "I'm sure you were quite entertained."
"Oh you have NO idea what watching you cross lances does to a girl. I even heard, from somewhere close to me, that a certain girl was going to go change when the match ended. Didn't quite catch who that was," Fiona said seductively.
Patrick grunted in acknowledgement but thought to himself, 'and if I asked who, she'd say herself and invite me to inspect her underwear.'
Fiona knew he wouldn't take the bait and giggled when he didn't disappoint her.
"Alright. Alright. I am curious about something. When Princess Weyden challenged, you stated you wanted a hundred coins and her sword. The heirloom sword. You won the contest and took the coins. Why did you change claiming the sword to sending it home to her family," Fiona asked.
Patrick had put on his pants but not buckled the belt as he sat down to pull on his uniform boots. Fiona handed him one.
Patrick pulled the boot on, "a few reasons. If I had the sword it would be a point of contention for her family. They would try to deal with the Academy to get it back. Another is that others would challenge for the sword on a constant basis to have leverage on her and her family. Three; it would reinforce her attitude but even more personal. Finally her family towards her. Instead of correcting the issue they would be hostile to her. She took something that wasn't about me and made it so. Her family should take something about her and keep it so."
"So you know that her parents will inquire about the match to Dame Ayalla for the truth," Fiona hedged.
Patrick had pulled on the other boot then stood up and stamped his feet to settle them inside then buckled his belt, "I have no doubt."
Fiona walked over and adjusted the front of his shirt but left the top two buttons open, "ah. They'll want to know the real reason, even if she does tell the truth. Which she more than likely will. They'll be very angry and take it upon themselves to; instill a sense of propriety that they missed."
Patrick shrugged into the jacket she held behind him, "I know the story. What happened was normal. Her extended family members weren't even ill treated. Yet she holds the Solos in grudge because if they hadn't been hired then the other kingdom may not have won the battle."
"That's the quick and dirty version," the Countess said as she came around and brushed away any lint or debris from Patrick's shoulders.
"Its not that she thinks nobody can touch her," Patrick commented as Fiona adjusted his jacket collar. "She believes that nobody should be allowed to touch her. THAT'S her problem."
Fiona ran her fingers through his hair carefully to loosely comb it, "a problem you're going to cure her of when you face her after Lorenz Dante."
Patrick pulled his shirt cuffs from the jacket sleeves and gave a non-committal grunt.
"I've read the statements from your regiments and I've seen you myself here in contest. You could have launched her from the back of her horse almost into the stands. As hard as you hit her shield, her pride took more damage. When you face her again you're going to shatter her completely," Fiona summed up.
"That'll be up to her. I'm going to take her off her horse three times in a row. How it affects her will be all on her. She can take it as a loss or she can take it as something else. It won't be my concern. At the end of the day its all business, same as always. I did what I did for a reason and knew what I was doing the whole time. Weyden is bad for business," Patrick stated.
"Oh," Fiona continued to fuss with Patrick's appearance.
"Doucet. Doucet. FIONA," Patrick said to get her attention when she didn't stop.
Fiona paused, "yes?"
"I'm dressed now. My hair is fine as well," Patrick said.
Fiona looked him up and down, "so you are. LET'S START ALL OVER!"
Patrick shook his head, "pass. Anything else?"
Fiona rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek lightly, "this was VERY enjoyable. Are you SURE you're done? Classes are over now you know."
Patrick finally rolled his eyes and hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "out Doucet. Something went very wrong in your upbringing. You seem to want spankings now."
Fiona walked over to the door then looked back and taunted him by twitching her hips with a smile then walked out.
Patrick shook his head and muttered, "the real question is who would have to pay whom if I did it."
Suddenly he felt very tingly inside and had to sit down. A sense of calm settled over him but felt invigorated at the same time. The feeling lasted for several minutes then eased. Patrick stood up then made his way out. He thought back to early that morning. The feeling was the same but this time on a smaller scale. He went out through a smaller gate and hurried down the road. Going through town he nodded curtly to the few familiar faces that caught attention. At the edge he felt alone so hurried even more and began to run after gaining the path in the treeline.
Inside the house he quickly barred the door then stripped and ran into the darkened room. The Glamour of Patrick fell away to the true form of Phoebe as she took up the cloak. Daalumos was standing outside of a shadow and quivering.
"Did you feel it too," Phoebe asked.
The demon chuckled, "OH YES!"
Phoebe took her place on her throne as the feeling swept over them both again.
"Is this Prayer," She asked.
Daalumos tossed his head, "it feels WONDERFUL!"
Phoebe closed her eyes and sought the source. Her vision filled with the shrine of the fallen mortal and a young girl kneeling in front of it.
"Lady Nightmare please hear me. I want to be strong. I want to fight. Help me please so I won't be afraid to fight," the girl asked.
The girl heard a whisper in her mind, "return when the moon has risen."
Phoebe left the girl and felt her presence return to the room.
Daalumos chuckled, "what have you learned?"
"A young girl. She was praying. Well, more like trying to summon. We will visit her after nightfall," Phoebe said.
The demon laughed as Phoebe went to the other room and its large bath. She washed herself thoroughly then put on her armor and sword. Finally she wrapped the cloak over her shoulders.
"Are we to be off now my Mistress," Daalumos asked excitedly.
Phoebe could understand and relate to the Lust's excitement. All of this was new to her as well. She climbed onto his back.
"Yes. Go Daalumos. Follow my feelings. I can hear the girl's crude summons already," Phoebe said.
The bound demon ran through the darkened archway and into the night. In and out shadows he ran leaving the trail of hoof prints in flickering flames.
"Lady Nightmare. I came back as you said. Please help me," a young girl knelt in front of shrine again.
For several minutes nothing then she heard the beating of hooves. She looked up to see the frightening sight of a smoldering horse enter the graveyard and trot over to her. On the monstrous horse with flames slipping all over its body and eyes like glowing coals, sat a beautiful young woman that seemed to have a dull glow about her.
Phoebe looked down, "so I have come child. Why is it you call for me?"
The girl curtsied clumsily, "please Lady. I want to be brave so I can fight. They said you made him so the soldiers were afraid. I want that!"
"He gave me a small offering. I gave him a small boon. He was always mortal child. He was killed. If you fight you can be killed. One day you can become fearsome indeed. I can even add to that. I cannot make you immortal. Warriors fall in battle. That is the way of battle. You must accept that you will still be mortal," Phoebe said.
"Yes Lady. I understand that I'll die one day. Can I still be a great Knight? How can that happen," the girl asked.
Phoebe thought about it then answered, "first you must learn how to fight. Then you must become a Knight. Much of this will be done yourself but there will be times that I help you. You would become a WarPriestess. What of your mortal family? Do they know your wishes?"
The girl shook her head, "I have nobody. They took my mama two months ago. She was all I had. I do things for people to eat and I hide in barns or empty houses to sleep. I can sweep. I can wash things. Will that be enough for you?"
"No neighbor in this village will take you in," Phoebe asked.
The girl shook her head, "I'm a stranger. I ran all day to come here when I heard about you."
Daalumos commented, "she has much anger within her small body."
The girl pointed, "your horse talks!"
Daalumos laughed, "I am no horse mortal child! I am a demon bound in service to my Mistress you have called to."
"A DEMON? A REAL ONE," the girl trembled.
Phoebe chuckled, "he is indeed child. What price will you pay for my rewards?"
"Anything my Lady. I want to be a fierce Knight and kill the ones that took my Mama and hurt her to death. They threw her down and tore her dress off. All of them laid on top of her and bounced. Mama screamed a lot. I had went out to milk the cow and was behind the hay when they came. When I saw them kick the door I jumped into the hay pile and hid. I could see them still. They went inside when it got dark and started breaking things. We didn't have money so they came back out and beat Mama asking where the money was. Mama kept telling them there wasn't any. One of them hit mama so hard I heard a loud noise. Like a stick in the fireplace and Mama made a strange cry. Then they got back on their horses saying they were coming back with more men for her and left laughing," The girl told them as she cried.
"What happened then child," Phoebe asked.
The girl sniffled, "I crawled out and went over to Mama. She told me to run away. Far away. She told me that they looked like men from Ranom. They all wore the same thing. Mama pointed and said to go that way away from them. Then Mama stopped talking. I thought she was sleeping but she wouldn't wake up. She wasn't doing anything. I ran inside and took what I could and ran away like Mama said. A lady told me that Mama had died when I told her what happened. She wanted to take me back to find out everything. Mama told me to run away so I did. I heard some men talking about you so I came here."
"Stay here child," Phoebe said then turned Daalumos around.
Phoebe closed her eyes and reached out with her thoughts, 'Mortal. Mortal who honored my dead! Come to me now! Bring your Lord and Captain!'
Phoebe's thoughts were so loud that Daalumos had heard them as well and shrieked so loud it was almost deafening. After they waited for what seemed like an hour horses could be heard coming. A group of knights raced to the graveyard and pulled their horses back when they saw her.
The young man jumped down and ran over and bowed, "My Lady! I brought my Lord as you commanded."
Phoebe looked over at them standing their horses back, "come unto me Mortal!"
The Lord dismounted, straightened his cloak and strode over then nodded to her, "you wished to see me Lady of Nightmares?"
Phoebe stared at him then said, "Tam Malzeek. You have no daughters. Only one lame son."
Malzeek cleared his throat, "yes Lady."
The Noble did love his son, but felt like a failure that the boy could not follow him.
Phoebe looked back, "come forth child."
The girl came around Daalumos and stood between them and Tam Malzeek.
"I charge you Mortal with this child. Raise her as a daughter of your own. Provide her the finest education and home as if she were of your own. Who leads your army?"
A Knight came forward, "I am Lord Malzeek's captain Lady."
Phoebe nodded, "You are to teach her the way of war. She is to become a Knight. Ranom is her enemy. No friend of yours, yes?"
Malzeek nodded, "they are not Lady!"
"Then you share in an enemy. The girl will be my WarPriestess. Care for her. Teach her. Guard her. Provide her a place of her own to pray unto me. When she is ready for training at the place you send all children to become the best of warriors, make her armor of my service," Phoebe instructed.
"You wish her to become a knight," Lord Malzeek asked to be sure.
Phoebe looked down at them, "I do. I understand you must give that place some tribute. I will provide it."
Malzeek looked down at the girl, "child what is your name?"
"Sania. That's all I know," Sania answered timidly.
The Captain asked, "Miss Sania how old are you?"
Sania looked down, "eleven Sir."
"I will give you my name if it pleases your Lady. Sania Malzeek," Lord Malzeek said.
"It does. Child, he is now your father. Take the name he has given you for your own. Learn well to be a lady, priestess and warrior. No man is to touch you as a woman unless I tell you he may. Mortal. In two of your months I will come to the place you have given her to pray. She will summon me. This is the answer to your prayer child. I am Phoebe. I am the Nightmare Rider," Phoebe declared.
All of the men went down on one knee. Sania knelt down too after seeing them.
"Yes Lady Phoebe. I'll do everything you said," Sania said.
Daalumos felt Phoebe's thoughts and reared up on his hind legs and shrieked as a rush of fire swept up them then fell as shadows enveloped the two and hid them from sight. Daalumos stood very still. He had understood Phoebe wanted to wait and see what the mortals did with the child.
Tam Malzeek let out the breath he had held, "This was not what I expected when you said she was summoning us here. I was concerned she had taken anger of something or other. Sania. When was the last time you dined?"
"Dined? Is that like eating," Sania asked.
Malzeek knelt down, "yes Sania it is. Where did your Lady find you?"
Sania looked down, "here Sir. I ran all day to find this place when I heard men talking this morning. I came here and asked for the Nightmare Lady to come."
Sania told them how she came to be there and pleading for Phoebe's help. Malzeek sighed and nodded.
"I understand now Sania. Come home with me. We will take very good care of you. Your Lady will be pleased and I will do my best to make you happy. If you want you may call me Papa as my son does. I have a wife. Lady Celia Malzeek. She will be happy to help you the way your Mama did. Will that be right for you," Malzeek asked.
Sania nodded, "yes Papa."
"If you would mount your horse Milord I'll hand her up to ride with you," the Captain offered.
Malzeek nodded, "of course Aldo. Quick thinking."
The Lord climbed onto his horse.
Aldo lifted her up, "not to worry little Mistress Sania. In two months I will begin your Knightly teachings myself. I will teach you all I know to prepare you for the Academy. I was a tournament champion when I graduated. You be a fine student when you go there and come out ready to become a great Knight! Up you get Mistress Sania. Tomorrow I'll pick a fine horse for your own!"
Sania gave him a shaky smile as she settled in front of Malzeek, "thank you."
"My name is Aldo Raggins. You are to simply call me Sir Aldo Mistress Sania," Aldo said.
"Yes Sir, Sir Aldo," Sania said.
"One of you men ride ahead and go to the kitchen. Tell them to prepare a meal for our new Mistress then have a maid inform Lady Celia. She'll want to personally see to the preparing of her new room and a bath," Aldo called out.
"SIR," one of the men answered and tore for the castle.
"Walk steady Stanzo. Castle," Malzeek ordered his horse then said to Sania, "not worry. He'll give us a gentle ride for you."
Sania finally seemed to calm down, "yes Papa. Is it far?"
Malzeek smiled, "no my child. Just up the way, we'll be home in just a few minutes."
Aldo looked over and said in a low voice, "my Lord. She has fallen asleep."
Tam sighed, "as well she should Aldo. When we get to the castle, if she will awake we'll feed her quickly. If not I'll have Celia and her maid get her bathed and in bed. Tomorrow will be a very busy day. I have a daughter finally. Celia had lost all hope."
"And of her quest to avenge her mother," Aldo asked.
Malzeek looked down at the sleeping girl, "we will honor it. Train her well Aldo. Make sure my daughter comes back us after her vengeance is served."
The men faded into the distance. Daalumos and Phoebe came out of the shadow as they disappeared.
"And so we have a true beginning now," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe shifted on his back and nodded, "if they stay true, so shall we Daalumos. Let's go. I'll have to make the most of the coming battles. A full stay at the Academy will take some doing."
The Lust turned and began to trot away with a chuckle, "to collect those trinkets, we will have to conduct much more of our Business. What is it you said? Now we have our Market?"
Phoebe laughed, "indeed! Now that we do have our Market, we must Corner it!"
Early the next afternoon Jessica Weyden came out of the library and ran right into someone.
"Excuse me," Jessica mumbled then looked up, "Vaan!"
"And a WONDERFUL good afternoon to you Jessica! Isn't it a simply SPLENDID day," the fourth year Prince asked.
Jessica found herself in an immediate quandary. She was caught between the urges to slap, hug, strangle or cry on the shoulder of the Prince.
Vaan Arento was the oldest of two Princes and one Princess for Scavlic. He was as over-the-top as anyone came. He took great pride in his blonde hair that hung to the middle of his back and was always impeccably dressed. His uniform bordered between male and female as did his hairstyles, though much of the time he favored a feminine style for his hair. Many of the girls of the Academy fawned over him. That wasn't surprising, he was more than handsome. For a young man he was actually beautiful and he usually made quite sure that it showed. His closest friendship was with Countess Fiona Doucet the Head of the Student Council.
Most of the student body were convinced Prince Vaan was actually bi-sexual and he himself openly admitted to finding both sexes attractive but only on a case-by-case basis.
Jessica turned the prince around, "What have you done with yourself this time? OH FOR THE GODS' SAKE!"
Vaan smiled devilishly. Jessica saw that his hair was braided with purple and white ribbons woven through the length. It was no better than the time he had it in a visible braid style to look like rope across the top of his head and down his back.
"Prince Vaan. Your HIGHNESS," Jessica ground out between her teeth, "your hair is quite the sight. Again."
Vaan stroked the tail end of the braid," Isn't it just? I saw a picture and absolutely HAD to have it Jessica!"
Jessica mentally counted to ten.
"I even incorporated my colors. See," He said proudly, "its simply magnificent! It suits me so well don't you think?"
Jessica was waging an internal struggle not to fall down laughing or scream at him, "Vaan that is a style my mother used to insist on for me at state dinners and balls."
"AH! ITS A FORMAL STYLE," Vaan exclaimed excitedly.
"I was TWELVE," Jessica snarled.
Vaan grabbed her into a hug and stroked her cheek, "oh Jessica please don't be like that. I'm absolutely certain you were ADORABLE! You've grown since then. I bet now the look would still suit you, but instead of the ribbons you should substitute a string of pearls. Yes! A string of gems would be so lovely."
Jessica groaned, "Prince Vaan may I please strangle you?"
Vaan shook his head still petting her, "certainly not your Highness. It took almost all morning to get my cravat to do something besides just LYING THERE. I won't have you ruining it over something so petty as you having a not-so-fun-hair day! It would be an outrage. An insult to fashion world-wide!"
"Only you would say something like that," Jessica sighed in defeat, "at least stop petting me like some domesticated furry thing."
Vaan stopped and looked slightly put off, "oh have it your way Jessica. Do please stop moping about though. You'll ruin complexion!"
The Prince looped an arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the hall and outside to walk.
"Vaan. Honestly; you're nowhere near being the right candidate for grief counseling," Jessica stated flatly.
Vaan laughed, "nonsense! I'm the perfect counselor! Grave matters should be treated trivially. Trivial matters should be regarded with grave import! Look here."
Jessica was turned to face a collection of rose bushes and sighed, "They're lovely Vaan. I'm sure they bloomed just to be in YOUR presence."
"Of course they did! They wanted to emulate my greatness. Unfortunately; they can only come so close. That's beside the point. The point is, they are still beautiful and smell so very sweet. Yesterday was yesterday for them. Today is today. They will do as they do because it is what they do; no matter what happened before," Vaan said as he gestured broadly.
Jessica frowned. As usual he was acting outrageously. The young man was so well known for being flamboyant many were convinced the word was invented for him. In fact the dictionary in the library had a small sticker placed over the true definition of the word and someone even had the label printed to say
No one was actually sure who had done it. Fiona Doucet or Vaan Arento himself.
Jessica sat down on a bench, "I'm sure you'll get to your point before I graduate."
Vaan sighed then crouched in front of Jessica and took her hands in his own, "Jessica the world did NOT end yesterday. You did something rash."
Jessica frowned at him.
"Okay you did something foolish AND rash. You did however face it down. You faced up to your defeat with resolve and met with the price you agreed to pay. On the one hand; the Solo showed you mercy and on the other; he did even more damage. That was yesterday. He has moved on. You too must move on. I understand your hatred for Solos. I don't agree with it,but I understand it. To be honest you are being rather selective. You blame the solos for that loss. That is wrong. They didn't go to your enemy and make a deal. Your enemy went to THEM. When the battle is over the solos collect their pay and leave. What happened to your family had nothing to do with them at all," Vaan stated.
"If the solos hadn't been there the battle wouldn't have been lost," Jessica protested.
Vaan looked her directly in the eyes, "and if your Uncle hadn't been drunk and accosted that King's sister there wouldn't have been a battle to begin with and the solos wouldn't have been there."
Jessica sat up in shock, "WHAT?"
"You think the ransom was so high because of who he was? You are SO ill-informed. You were young when that happened though," Vaan sighed in regret for her not knowing the truth.
"There was a gala and your Uncle was there representing your kingdom. He got drunk and went after the King's sister. He refused to listen to reason and even insulted her upbringing. Ask your aunt. She was mortified at his boorish behavior. By the time your father got involved it was well out of hand. Please keep this in mind for the future: Never call a King's youngest sister a whore. Especially if she isn't and her engagement was announced earlier that evening," Vaan said pointedly.
"NO," Jessica protested.
Vaan shook his head, "yes Jessica. I was there. My Uncle and Aunt had me there because there was someone I was to be introduced to. For later on maybe."
"For the Gods' sake Vaan. Wait. What did you say," Jessica stared at him.
Vaan gave her a blank look, "I said I was there."
Jessica glared, "yes yes yes. I got that part. I meant the part you said you were being introduced to someone, for later on maybe. Are you saying you were there to meet a potential bride?"
A glint came to the prince's eyes, "who says they would be my bride? Don't you think I would look LOVELY in all white? And no snide comments from your Highness. I assure you I am every bit as PURE as the day I was born!"
Jessica lost the battle and began laughing hysterically; picturing Vaan Arento gliding down an aisle in a bridal gown waving shamelessly to everyone and a shocked young man waiting at an altar in horror.
Vaan stood up and looked affronted while turned to the side, "surely you don't think of ME as promiscuous? I'm as chaste as the next! And even more so than SOME around here. I do hear such scandalous gossip you know. I fear my ears may burn off!"
Jessica looked anything but a royal princess as she doubled-over holding her stomach laughing and even began to lightly stamp her feet. She was laughing so hard, tears began roll down her cheeks.
Vaan managed to contain his own smile and skillfully snapped the stem of a rose and brought it up to his nose. He gave a look of deep content as he inhaled its fragrance.
Jessica finally calmed down and worked to compose herself. The Prince looked at her seriously.
"I'm so glad you're now able to rein yourself in. I would absolutely dread having to call for the staff to deal with you in such hysterics. They might even think I had something to do with it," Vaan commented.
Jessica snerked, "perish the THOUGHT!"
Vaan carefully broke the thorns away then wrapped her hands around the stem of the crisp white bloom, "we may not be exactly friends, but trust in me Jessica; I have never been your enemy. I will admit there are people I don't care for much. But that is on an individual basis and it IS because they personally have wronged me. That is how it should be."
Jessica sighed and used the handkerchief Vaan pulled from his sleeve to dab at her eyes.
"My father once told me something that I've found very important. Perhaps you will. Solos do not have politics. They are for hire only. They do not share ideologies, morals or friendship. One thing is always certain. Solos are honest and dedicated. They only take what they earn and they only earn what is agreed upon. If you want truth seek a philosopher, if you want fact seek a teacher, but if you want warriors that will not betray you; pay the Solos. Now be honest. Were Fotens not a Solo; you'd be beside yourself trying to gain his attention. He is a solo though. You could have his attention, for a night; for a price," Vaan remarked.
Jessica rolled her eyes, "I am a Princess. Remember?"
Vaan chuckled, "so? You wouldn't be the first to liaise with a Solo. Where do you think my younger brother came from?"
"NO! Seriously," Jessica asked in shock, "do other people know? Does he?"
"Its not THAT big of a secret. Of course he knows. He even met her not long ago. Father paid handsomely and mother gave her approval after reviewing her ledger," Vaan stated. "She even agreed to tutor him for three months before coming to the academy next year."
Jessica still sat shocked. She had heard of it happening but she never heard of anyone that would openly admit to it.
"Oh my. Speak of a devil. And what a handsome devil at that," Vaan said appreciatively.
Jessica looked over and saw Patrick Fotens walking on the other side of the courtyard, oblivious to them.
"Would it do any good to remind you that even if you did successfully negotiate a night of frolic with him, you'd never get pregnant," Jessica commented.
Vaan pouted, "you say such CRUEL things. He wouldn't have to be told THAT part, would he?"
Jessica shook her head and groaned, "I give up. I need to go to class now."
"Hello your Highness," a pair of girls said in unison.
Vaan smiled in delight, "and a WONDERFUL DAY TO YOU!"
Jessica shook her head as the identical girls giggled and blushed walking by.
"YUM! Gentry or not; there is ALWAYS an allure with identical twins," Vaan said then turned to follow them.
Jessica went back to wanting to slap him but got up and went towards class instead. Talking with the prince had changed her mood for the most part. He also gave her some questions to ask of her parents.
Patrick had gone from class to class all day and received looks of curiosity. Everyone knew he had to have had a reason to refuse the sword. They just didn't know what it was. Plus there was the talk of Fiona Doucet sneaking into the wardroom while he was there and Jenette Wazley standing outside the door looking as if she had been caught running naked through the dining hall.
Wazley stood next to his table in the class and held out the coin, "Sorry Fotens. Do want this back?"
Patrick waved her off, "you did enough for most of it. Your mouth stays shut and you can keep it free and clear."
"I know nothing," Jenette said and went back to her seat.
"Psst. Hey Patrick. How about we go to that tavern I heard about this evening," Lorcon asked.
Patrick shook his head, "working."
Lorcon frowned. He would offer to help but knew it wasn't allowed. Solos only took assignments for Solos. If a royal, noble or gentry took an assignment for a solo they would be expelled and the poster for the assignment would never be allowed to do so again. He also knew that Solos wouldn't allow someone friendly around while their were on assignment. Even if it were something tedious and boring such as guard duty, they were on the job and would focus on it.
Emin Lorcon had hoped Patrick would join him at the tavern and relax enough to confide why he did what he did. Everyone was speculating why and if he had the real reason it would make him very popular until the next big thing came along.
Dame Ayalla entered the classroom, "take your seats. We have quite a bit of work to catch up from yesterday."
Everyone quickly set to task and made up the work and covered the day's regularly scheduled lesson. There was five minutes left when she closed them out.
"Is there anything else," the teacher asked.
Aruna stood up, "I have a question Dame Ayalla but its off-topic."
The teacher sighed, "very well. Ask your question."
"Thank you. Have you ever heard of a God or Goddess ever building a shrine or something over a fallen worshiper themselves," the Duchess asked.
Dame Ayalla leaned her hip to her lectern, "I assume this has something to do with the battle I'm sure we've all heard about the other night?"
Aruna nodded, "yes Ma'am. We heard that the Nightmare Rider joined a battle and afterward she built some kind of shrine over one of the fallen soldiers. Rumor has it he worshiped her."
"I guess this is a question shared by the majority of the class," Dame Ayalla asked and noted the many nodding heads.
"Very well. The answer to your question is; No. I've never heard of such happening before and there are no historical accounts of it happening either. I've heard the same things you have and made some inquiries of my own. Not much is known about this Nightmare Rider. We do known that the Rider is a woman and she is reputed to be quite attractive. Some speculate she may be some deposed princess or even a demi-goddess. Now it is true that the Nightmare Rider did build a shrine over a fallen man after a battle, but her reasons for doing so are not clear. Currently there are no details for this Nightmare Rider. Now you know as much as I do," Dame Ayalla informed them.
She nodded to the door and the class began to leave.
"Weyden. A moment," Dame Ayalla said.
The rest of class left even quicker, leaving the young royal behind with the instructor.
Dame Ayalla didn't waste words, "you did something very stupid. That's your business. You did it in MY class. That's my business. You will NOT do so again. Am I clear Highness?"
Jessica nodded, "yes Dame Ayalla. I apologize for disrupting your class and any insult you felt for it. I will not do it again."
"The only thing I will commend you on is telling the truth to your parents. They messaged me at lunch. That is the only part they are proud of. Your mother will be here day after tomorrow to collect your sword herself. She has already requested a meeting with Solo Fotens," The teacher informed her.
Jessica wanted to groan. She knew her mother was going to meet with Patrick and give him a formal apology and even offer him a day's battle wage since it was a personal match. The coins she had already given him her mother was ask him to classify as a battle bonus since he had won.
"That is all," Dame Ayalla said, dismissing the royal.
Jessica nodded, "yes Dame Ayalla. Again; my apologies."
Jessica hurried from the room.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 4 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Daalumos charged into the fray with a ear-shattering shriek. It was their second night of storming battles. He burst across the battle line at full gallop while Phoebe swung her Vulcan sword cutting down all along their path. Footsoldiers on both sides had succumbed to the influences of both rage and fear. Many were blinded by their desire to kill and were attacking friend and foe alike. Some though had simply fell to the ground from the visions filling their minds of terrifying things. Four Knights wheeled their mounts around and charged toward her. They aimed their lances at the young woman astride the monstrous beast and rode at full run. Phoebe smiled coldly as they drew closer. One dropped his lance then fell off as the other three continued. At the last second she brought her sword up and the glowing lances sparked as the thin field of plasma skittered along the unearthly blade. A quick bump and the long composite shafts jumped upward and were chopped through with a slash of her blade.
In horror the Knight on the right of the formation watched the blade come around to cleave through the neck of his robotic steed then continue on through himself at the waist. More than one saw the knight topple from himself as the horse crumpled to the ground. She chased after the other two and caught them within a moment to dispatch in a similar manner. Phoebe noticed a large group of Knights had pulled back and regrouped to stand off from the battle. She deduced they were Solos. They had been hired to fight against the other army, not her. Phoebe ignored them, they would have nothing to do with her and would actively avoid engaging. She wasn't part of their contract. Daalumos continued along his track bringing them both into another cluster of attacking foot-soldiers.
Soon orders were being called out for retreat. Those that were still themselves obeyed and ran back to their own formations to withdraw. Daalumos slowed to a trot and circled around. A handful still fought among themselves. Others lay mindless in their terror. One was trying to crawl away to rejoin his comrades. A glance at him and Phoebe knew he would not last a few more minutes and plunged her sword into him, melting through the armor and body. When the last two fell to each other's swords Daalumos stopped. Phoebe looked around but fixed her gaze to the group of Solos standing at the edge. They seemed to be in discussion.
Daalumos chuckled, "they seem to be in a quandary."
"Not anymore," Phoebe remarked.
One of the Knights handed off his weapons and helmet then pulled out a black cloth, held it high and walked his mount back out onto the field. He stopped halfway towards her and waited holding his makeshift flag.
"Is he surrendering," Daalumos asked.
Phoebe shook her head, "no. He is asking for parlay. A meeting to at least talk, at most to deal. We'll grant the the request."
Daalumos walked over and stood a few feet back from the hired knight.
"Twenty-ninth Solo Regiment. Commander. Requesting parlay," The Solo stated.
Phoebe nodded, "Phoebe. The Nightmare Rider. Speak Mortal."
The Solo lowered his hand, "we do not wish to engage or be forced to defend. We are Solos and fight for profit only. We've heard stories of you and there is no price we would agree to for fighting you. May we withdraw as is since you were not in our contract?"
Phoebe considered it then asked, "if we grant your request; what becomes of you?"
"One day's wages only. There could be disputed though since the battle had not fully ensued," The Commander explained.
Phoebe understood their position. However she did have her own. Then the thought came to her.
"We will let you withdraw for in exchange for service," Phoebe said.
The Commander regarded her warily, "what do you expect?"
"The warring leaders meet here within the hour to negotiate for war. In exchange you will be allowed to withdraw," Phoebe stated.
The Commander whistled loudly then yelled back, "send me two for parlay!"
Two knights disarmed and rode out. He dispatched them with orders. Half an hour later they returned with the leaders and their captains.
"We are here Nightmare Rider. Why do you interfere in our battle," One asked.
"I have my reasons Mortal. You wish to continue your petty war," Phoebe asked.
The other leader practically spat, "I DO. Without YOUR interference!"
Phoebe noted the nod of the first leader then said, "then you will give me tributes. You. I have heard of a place young mortals go to learn war skills. What tribute is required of one to go?"
The Solo Commander replied, "eight thousand coins for the full tuition."
Phoebe nodded, "then you will share in this tribute. Also the battlefield must be consecrated unto me. Do so and have your war."
The blustering leader spouted, "and if we REFUSE?"
Phoebe smiled and gave him the vision of his home burning with all inside while he was held frozen in place, close enough to feel the heat and hear the screams.
"Very well. You will have your tributes. I will provide half. How is the field to be consecrated," the second leader asked.
Phoebe pointed, "eight swords at each corner of the field and and my art. Invoke my name at your charge."
"I will send two to learn your art then consecrate our side of the field," The first leader said.
The other leader nodded, "as will I!"
The two factions withdrew. Within the hour the two sides had returned and massed. Phoebe and Daalumos sat overlooking the field. Two large bags lay on the ground at his feet. Her name echoed from both sides and within moments the sounds of battle clashed. The two sides raged for hours unconcerned with the dull glow surrounding the field and the two watching. When the bulk of the forces pulled back and unarmed men in white tunics began removing the bodies from the field Phoebe collected the two bags and slung them over Daalumos' shoulders. They turned and rode away. Daalumos laughed as he galloped back to their place.
"I'm quite surprised with your cleverness! You've secured the tribute for the child's placement at the mortals' war school and you provided for us with longer lasting power. I'm impressed! By consecrating the field to us and invoking your name they worshiped and made sacrifice. The consecration is permanent so any future battles will also be tribute to us," Daalumos said.
"And by securing the child's tribute I secure her continued worship and possibly the lure of others to follow in her example," Phoebe said with a smile.
The Lust laughed as they entered the darkened archway, "how droll! You put much thought into that! I'm doubly impressed. I'm slowly starting to believe our union was truly meant to be! I've never been so entertained!"
Phoebe climbed off the demon's back, set the bags of coins to the side then stripped off her cloak and armor.
"To be truthful; I was rather entertained myself at how that worked out," Phoebe admitted then went to her bath.
She lazily bathed then dried herself off and went back to her throne and sat back. She could tell Daalumos was sleeping. Her own eyes drifted closed for the two remaining hours of night. The dawn broke, awaking her. She padded on bare feet to the outer room and created the Glamour of Patrick Fotens and began to dress. It was time to go to school.
It was the afternoon and Patrick had just changed into his armor for training. He was about to unplug Daemon when the stable-hand called out.
"Fotens! Training is delayed. You're wanted in the lounge," the Stable-hand informed him.
Patrick nodded, "I'll go change."
The hand shook his head, "go as is Solo. Bring your ledger too."
Patrick sighed and left. Going around in full armor wasn't exactly subtle but he managed not to create too much noise. Fiona Doucet stood outside the door of the lounge.
"Sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor. I'll announce you," Fiona said then opened the door to lead him inside.
Patrick resisted the urge to comment. The Head of the Student Council wasn't being her usual self.
Fiona stopped several paces back from a woman seated in a winged chair and curtsied, "your Majesty. May I present Solo Patrick Fotens of the Third year class. Solo Fotens, Her Majesty; Queen Lellaa Weyden of Lurbourg. Princess Jessica's mother."
Patrick stood casually as the elegantly dressed woman regarded him very closely then looked to Fiona, "thank you Countess Doucet. You may leave us now."
"I'll be outside if you require anything Queen Weyden," Fiona said charmingly then curtsied and left.
Lellaa remarked after the door closed, "she's a vast improvement over the Council Head when I was here."
"I'm told she has made great strides to ensure the student body gains as much as they can from the curriculum," Patrick replied.
"I would like to see your ledger Solo Fotens," the Queen stated.
Patrick stepped closer and handed it to her. Lellaa Weyden went over the information then handed it back and reviewed another tablet.
The sword lying on the table beside her didn't go unnoticed by Patrick. It was the sword that until recently had been habitually worn by Jessica Weyden. He had expected a trusted Knight to come collect it, not the Queen herself. The Queen set the tablet aside and nodded.
"I've never seen a record like yours. I've encountered older Solos that would like to have such a record," The Queen said flatly.
Patrick knew these weren't direct compliments. She was stating facts. It was obvious the Queen, unlike her daughter, had much experience dealing with Solos.
"I've requested you here to discuss some business. Are you able to negotiate at this time," Lellaa asked.
Patrick nodded, "I have the time Lellaa Weyden."
Lellaa nodded then set a small bag on the low table in front of her, "You were in contest with my daughter. Though it was held under training conditions; it was of a personal nature. You were victorious in that contest. You claimed a prize of one hundred coins as per stipulation. Have you received said coinage?"
Patrick nodded, "I have."
"Did you receive single day battle wage," Lellaa asked.
Patrick shook his head, "I did not."
Lellaa's eyes narrowed, "were you contracted or verbally promised single day battle wage?"
"I was not," Patrick stated.
Lellaa shook her head, "Solo Fotens this is unacceptable. I will correct this immediately. If I may have your ledger I will add the voucher and settle your wage immediately along with the three day non-payment penalty. This should have been brought to my attention sooner."
Patrick handed over his ledger again. The Queen transferred the voucher to it after creating one in her own tablet then counted out the coins from her bag and handed them over. Patrick held the coins in his hand and frowned.
Queen Lellaa looked at him for a moment then winced, "in my quest to ensure all was above board I overlooked a critical detail. You're in your armor and no place to put your pay. I believe that does answer the question of where my daughter gets her impetuous streak."
She took the coins back from him and slipped them into a hidden pocket of her short cloak and handed him the bag instead, "please take the rest in payment for your silence of my MONUMENTAL blunder. I suddenly feel lower than a First year on her first day!"
Patrick attached the bag to a point at his hip, "I have no idea to what you refer Lellaa Weyden. Shall we continue?"
She nodded, "yes. My apology for being so EASILY distracted. I wanted to bring up the matter of possession of the Weyden heirloom sword."
Patrick nodded that she should continue.
"You had initially claimed the sword as part of your victory penalty. Yet after said victory you changed the disposition and declared the sword be sent home to return to my possession. This is adjustment to forfeiture," Lellaa stated.
Patrick shook his head, "it is within the terms. I stated the contest would cost her then specified one hundred coins and the sword she wore. I never stated what would happen to those. The disposition of the sword was mine to determine, never intending to take possession of it personally. I chose my words specifically."
Lellaa's jaw hung open at the revelation. The Solo had outsmarted EVERYONE from the beginning! She began to chuckle then laugh openly. For several moments she laughed, occasionally shaking her head in disbelief. He had also performed the Weyden family a favor, without doing them a favor because it benefited him more than them without any additional cost or expenditure. In short, good business decisions.
Finally the Queen regained some composure and said, "never before has Lurbourg, or the Weyden's for that matter, been so cleverly outmaneuvered! I feel like you've been VASTLY underpaid!"
Still smiling the Queen strode to the door and yanked it open to see Fiona outside looking stunned. The Queen wasn't so dense as to think she would not be listening in. Apparently the revelation had been quite the surprise to her as well.
"Countess Doucet. Fetch the Headmaster," the Queen ordered.
"Your Majesty," Fiona replied and turned to go.
Fiona spotted the Headmaster approaching fortunately and waved him down. He came over and entered with Fiona in tow.
"Queen Weyden; you have need of me for something," The Headmaster asked.
Lellaa was working at her tablet and nodded, "I do. Since Countess Doucet is in company, she may also bear witness."
Fiona was shocked, "if you insist your Majesty."
Lellaa smiled, "I do. Solo Fotens. After reviewing your Battle Ledger, Academic logs and meeting you personally I have determined that I wish to propose Liaison."
Only Patrick seemed unfazed by her statement.
"Upon higher placement at the end of Tournament than my daughter, I propose a Liaison with Princess Jessica Weyden for an heir to Lurbourg upon graduation. If Tournament champion, then I will want the immediate Liaison with my Princess and her graduation delayed one year," Lellaa said then handed over the tablet for him to sign.
Patrick read over the terms. The settlement was very high.
"A limited edition Cavalier model WarHorse; calibrated to personal specifications. Personally fitted armor of my colors, with shield. Complete Campaign Voyage outfitting and seventy-five thousand coins," Patrick read aloud.
The Headmaster's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Fiona Doucet almost staggered back. That kind of settlement had never been offered right out of the Academy; much less in it! Essentially it was everything a Solo needed to make their way in the world. Most worked at least three years to complete a basic complement and she was offering a full top of the line set up!
Lellaa smiled broadly, "the fine print. If the heir is a girl; I'll upgrade the WarHorse to a Paladin model!"
That was the best model. Kings and Queens rode those.
Patrick re-read then signed, "acceptable."
"Queen Lellaa this is beyond unusual," the Headmaster finally found his voice taking the tablet Patrick handed to him.
Lellaa smiled in satisfaction, "I've made proposal and its been accepted!"
He sighed, signed it then passed to Fiona, "The terms are as stated and have been accepted."
Fiona signed it then handed the tablet back to the Queen, "v-verified and witnessed."
Lellaa smiled as she took it back then send the contract to Patrick's Battle Ledger. She went over to the chair she had been sitting in. She took up the heirloom sword then a long bag. She passed the bag to Patrick on her way out.
"The non-refundable deposit Solo Fotens. I look forward to watching the Tournament. Personally," the Queen said then walked out looking extremely pleased with herself.
Patrick opened the bag to see an ornate dress-sword lacking only a personal device to be etched into the pommel.
"A sword," Fiona asked.
Patrick nodded, "in the fine print."
"Countess. I'd like to see my daughter. Would she be at the arena now," the Queen asked.
Fiona nodded as Patrick passed them by, "Yes Your Majesty. I'll escort you."
At the arena Sir Belvin greeted the Queen as an old friend and directed her to join her daughter to the Royals' Wardroom.
"I never thought you'd come yourself Mother, "Jessica said as the assistant removed her armor to store in the cupboard.
Lellaa frowned, "you thought I would send someone? After your catastrophic action? Perhaps I should speak to the Headmaster and have you repeat your first two years!"
Jessica glared at her, "NO THANK YOU MOTHER!"
"Then I suggest you develop some intelligence very quickly before you repeat such a thing," Lellaa commented.
Jessica sighed then sat down on the bench after the last piece of armor was put away and the assistant curtsied to the two and left. Jessica slipped the silk tank-top off along with the shorts then quickly showered. Her mother watched as she finished drying and slipped on her panties and bra. Had anyone else been in the room the young princess might have been uncomfortable to sit so scantily clad.
"Mother. I have something on my mind. If I ask a direct question may I please have an honest answer," Jessica asked.
Lellaa nodded, "I have never lied to you. Ask."
Jessica took a deep breath then asked, "the battle that we lost and Uncle Rom, Aunt Adinee and the cousins were taken ransom; what started it all?"
The Queen rolled her eyes, "that? All that started because your IDIOT uncle got drunk and made disgusting advances to King Daarmore's youngest sister on her engagement night at the reception. He never drank well, and when he drank he would usually chase after any woman that caught his eye. Your Aunt, bless her, has done so much to contain him but that night he was beyond any restraint. That pig accosted the young woman and was even trying to tear the dress from her. He was caught and stopped before he could get any further. When confronted about it he took a handful of coins and tossed them at the King, claiming 'more than the going rate for a whore'. By the time any of it was brought to our attention the battle was over and the ransom terms had been issued."
Jessica looked horrified, "oh by the Gods!"
Lellaa sighed, "your father quickly agreed to the ransom of your Aunt and cousins. Your Uncle he was hesitant about paying. To be honest; he almost didn't. The only reason why he finally did was to prevent ongoing animosity between the kingdoms. Your Uncle agreed, for his life; to never leave his own castle again. Why bring all this up?"
"I AM such a fool. A complete and total IDIOT," Jessica moaned into her hands.
Lellaa Weyden glared at her in comprehension, "For the Gods' sake! Has the loss of that battle been your sole reason for this incessant hatred for Solos? All this time?"
Jessica simply groaned and nodded while holding her head in her hands in self-defeat.
"Then this is REALLY going to make you feel bad. The Solos that king hired for his army; there were only five of them and they weren't even allowed to fight. The King pulled them from the charge and paid them the battle wage for coming though he didn't need them. They weren't in the battle at all," the Queen informed her.
Jessica's jaw dropped but she recovered, "But even Father said there were Solos brought in for the battle on their side."
Lellaa nodded, "yes. They were hired and were there. But they were pulled before the charge and there was only five. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Uncle," Jessica said woefully. "He told there was at least a regiment and half!"
Lellaa glared, "was he drinking when he told you that?"
Jessica nodded sadly.
Lellaa pointed her finger directly at her, "you are FORBIDDEN from visiting their castle and he will NOT be allowed to visit you! His stupidity continues to rear its head!"
"Yes Mother. I'm sorry to cause trouble," Jessica said looking at the floor.
"I'll deal with your Uncle. You will change your ways immediately," The Queen said firmly.
Jessica went over and knelt in front of her mother and took her hands, "I will Mother. I swear it! I will put the past behind and focus on the future!"
"That's the spirit my child," Lellaa Weyden smiled. "In fact I've already been doing that very thing. I have something very good lined up for you. Possibly VERY soon!"
Jessica smiled, "really? What is it Mother?"
Lellaa smiled in satisfaction, "I've negotiated a future Liaison. Your first heir will be from it. I've made the proposal with Solo Patrick Fotens! Isn't that wonderful dear?"
Jessica squeaked as she looked at her mother in horror then fainted and fell to the floor.
Fiona Doucet had been standing outside the door and leaned in when she head the heavy, falling sound.
Lellaa looked over, "not how I expected her to take the news."
Fiona came over and maneuvered Jessica onto the bench to lie down, "honestly your Majesty. When she comes to and you confirm what she thought she heard; she is either going to go hysterical or fly into a murderous rampage. Her first target is a toss up; either yourself or Solo Fotens!"
"Countess. Do I detect a bit of personal interest? Are you yourself interested," Lellaa asked slyly.
"I've flirted. He's the only one that has actually remained immune to my charms. Though the other day I may have ALMOST went too far in my teasing," Fiona admitted laughing.
Lellaa arched an eyebrow, "oh?"
Fiona blushed as she laughed, "for a moment I thought he was seriously considering pulling me back into the Solos' Wardroom and spanking me!"
Lellaa joined her laughter, "pity my days are behind me. I would pass over Jessica and Liaise for myself! I'd love to see him contest."
Fiona laughed, "oh now that would be wickedly scandalous your Majesty! Please stop BEFORE I wet myself!"
Patrick had his armor removed and got dressed. When dressed he attached the new sword to his belt and carried the Academy issued sword over to the armory and turned it in. The Armorer commented of the new that it did look rather expensive and congratulated him on acquiring it. He then went back over to the arena and stood out on the lanes and leaned against the divider rail.
Sir Belvin walked up and mirrored the Solo.
"Busy day Fotens," the Jousting Instructor asked.
Patrick nodded slightly, "more than I thought it would be."
Belvin nodded downward, "nice addition."
"Non-refundable deposit on future service," Patrick commented.
Belvin stared at the pommel and noted it remained blank, "obviously you didn't sign up with somebody. Who secured the service?"
"Lellaa Weyden," Patrick said flatly.
"Lellaa? FUTURE service? Oh no. Tell me she didn't just negotiate a Liason to Jessica with you," Belvin asked.
Patrick nodded, "If I place higher in Tournament. If I win it'll be immediately."
Belvin's jaw dropped, "She DIDN'T! Oh Gods; she DID! Does the Princess know?"
The Solo shrugged, "she wasn't there."
A young woman was rushing past.
"What's the hurry," Belvin asked her.
"I have to go to the Royals' Wardroom. Princess Weyden fainted they said," the nurse said without stopping.
"Guess that answers THAT question," Patrick remarked.
Belvin shook his head, "that girl is going to kill the both of you when she can stand up."
Patrick gave him a side glance, "not hardly."
Belvin sighed, "well you should go ahead and cut out for the day before she tries today."
"If you say so," Patrick turned and started to leave.
"Fotens," Sir Belvin called back then asked, "why'd you agree to it?"
"With the settlement she offered; I'd never get another job if I turned it down," Patrick said flatly then left.
Daalumos stepped out of the dark shadow and regarded Phoebe intently.
"Oh what IS this delight? You've found a new torment to inflict! Tell me all about it," the demon giggled excitedly.
Phoebe sat on her throne and relaxed, "its nothing. The mother of the princess that hates my alter-ego has made a proposal to produce an heir with the princess."
"And you accepted? Oh what a torment INDEED! This is torment in its purest form my Mistress," Daalumos laughed hard.
Phoebe gave a non-committal shrug, "I suppose it may be."
The Lust was beside himself with mirth, "I suppose your mother's influence has finally revealed itself. Poena would thoroughly enjoy herself with that. For added measure she would probably ensure everyone the mortal knew were aware of it!"
"She probably would," Phoebe sighed. "More than likely she would invite many to watch it happen."
Daalumos snorted and tossed his head, "that sounds much like something she would do! Are you worried about performing the servicing?"
Phoebe shook her head, "no. The Glamour will allow it. There would be no power transfer through the Glamour into the offspring. I don't think it would since it is under false pretense. She is not wanting to couple with a God or Goddess. She will only be intending to couple with a mortal. If she was doing so out of worship to a God and no Glamour then definitely yes there would be a gracing or cursing. She isn't doing so as worship so it will not happen and the offspring will be as normal as she. Not that I could get her pregnant as a Goddess. I have to use a Glamoured form. She will bear a child, but it would only inherit things from the Glamoured form and herself."
"Zeus made it happen though," Daalumos said.
Phoebe shook her head, "not really. Zeus only disguised himself as mortal men, never a woman. Each time just before he bestowed his seed he revealed himself and some mortals accepted his Divinity. For all the ones that did, ten times more denied. Otherwise the world would be overrun with his half-mortal whelps."
Daalumos chuckled, "that is true. He is one of the more lecherous Gods. I've heard some say he should have been the God of procreation instead!"
Then Daalumos begin to laugh again.
"What now," Phoebe asked.
"I just realized it. Having any kind of personal relation with you is probably her worst nightmare. To have it orchestrated by her own mother is the ultimate punishment," the Lust stamped his feet in amusement.
Phoebe took a moment then began to laugh as well. Put into words as he had; Daalumos was right. Suddenly they felt a now familiar tingling.
"Ah. The little priestess," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe nodded, "yes. I can hear her. Its becoming much easier with her frequency. Wait. She is asking that we visit her tonight."
"Her new father has fast workers to build something to you in such short time," Daalumos commented.
"Its not finished but she is using it regardless," Phoebe said then sent her thoughts to the child. "When the moon has risen we will come."
The sun was already setting so Phoebe went to bathe and prepare. Soon enough the bound demon was moving in and out of shadows to carry Phoebe to their summons.
Sania knelt in the small unfinished structure, "I'm here Lady Phoebe. I hope you like this place."
The sound of hooves startled her and she turned around.
"So child. This is the place they are providing," Phoebe stated looking around then nodded, "when they've finished, it will do."
"Papa is being so nice. I have a new Mama too. Sir Aldo picked out a horse for me. I wanted to name it Phoebe for you but he said I should ask your horse what would be a good name," Sania informed them.
Daalumos chuckled, "that was very respectful. I offer you the name Lamudos for your steed."
Sania nodded to him, "thank you demon. I don't know your name."
"And you can not be told it Mortal. If you want to call me something then call me the same name and that will please me little priestess," Daalumos replied.
"Thank you Lamudos for the name. I asked that he be black like you. Papa and Mama brought in priests and priestesses and they told me that each God and Goddess like different things but since you come to me I shouldn't guess, just ask how you want me to worship you. They also said I need to offer you something. Mama suggested a special dress and shoes for you," Sania informed them.
Phoebe climbed off Daalumos and went inside the small shrine and looked around. Already there was an altar slightly back from the center of the unfinished room. Phoebe went outside and looked around.
"Remove your clothes child and leave them over there. Good. Now take that water and pour it completely over yourself," Phoebe instructed.
Sania did as she was told and now stood completely drenched.
Phoebe pointed, "take from that tray a chisel and hammer. I see a small knife, take that as well. Now come inside."
Phoebe had her stand at the altar and prick her finger with the knife then guided her hand to draw the art on the altar along with her name in the language of the Underworld.
Phoebe looked over the work and nodded, "good. Now use the hammer to strike the chisel on the lines of the art and my name. Every eight strikes say the words 'I consecrate this temple in the name of Phoebe of Nightmares.' You must do this until the lines are deep."
Sania did as she was instructed under their watchful eyes. She had to go over the design twice to ensure the depth was to satisfaction. Then listened carefully and nodded.
Phoebe watched as Sania climbed up onto the alter and laid down. Phoebe had to use her own teeth to open a small point on her finger then drew her art on Sania's chest then pelvis.
Sania recited, "I am Sania. Taken daughter of Malzeek. I consecrate this temple in the name of Phoebe of Nightmares. On myself her Art and name as priestess. I pledge myself in her service, Phoebe of Nightmares. I am yours."
A glow surrounded the girl, the altar, the small shrine, Daalumos and Phoebe. Phoebe leaned down and kissed her forehead, lips, above the heart then pelvis. Sania arched with that final touch and shook. A small bit of power flowed into her. It was almost more than her small body could withstand. Finally she settled back onto the altar, panting heavily as if she had run a long distance.
Phoebe turned and looked at the doorway. A woman was kneeling in it.
"You were sent by the Mortal Mistress of this place," Phoebe stated.
Fearfully the young woman nodded, "I am Mistress Sania's maid. My Lady had suggested that Mistress Sania make an offering of dress for you. I only ask to see to the size if the offering would please you; Phoebe of Nightmares."
Phoebe considered it then nodded, "very well Mortal. Attend me."
Phoebe took off her cloak and as an afterthought draped it over Sania as she still lay on the altar resting. The maid took a piece of cloth from her pocket and used it to take measurements. She then set a blank piece of paper on the ground.
"May I remove your boots and ask you to stand here so I may draw your feet for shoes," the maid asked.
Phoebe nodded, "so I am to be completely outfitted. Go about it then."
The Maid struggled but finally managed to take Phoebe's boots off then traced around her feet on the paper and measured across the tops. She then assisted putting Phoebe's boots back on.
Phoebe turned to Daalumos, "give her the slightest of touch."
The bound demon entered the shrine and stood at Sania's head then spoke in the language of demons, "when you face your enemy on the battlefield you will know anger. When your enemy's sword clashes to yours you will know rage. Ride fury to carry you to victory as you do your steed."
The Lust then pressed his mouth gently to her forehead in a rough kiss. Sania shivered then let forth a slight growl. Daalumos chuckled and stepped away.
"Please don't take her from us Lady of Nightmares," a voice asked behind them.
Phoebe turned to see the maid had returned and was accompanied with another woman regally dressed.
"You are the wife of Malzeek. You are Celia," Phoebe stated looking at the woman intently.
Celia Malzeek rushed forward and knelt in front of Phoebe, "Please my Lady. Do not take her from us. I've longed for a daughter of my own. Every prayer went unanswered until you brought her to us. Please don't take her now."
Phoebe commanded, "rise Mortal. Come inside."
Celia stood up and followed her in and knelt beside Sania.
"She merely sleeps. She has been given gifts and must rest now. It is quite the enterprise for one so small to ask for so much. It must be given over time. The child is fine I assure you. She will sleep until midday. From now on she will not suffer childish fears," Phoebe explained.
Celia nodded, "I thank you for that. Your companion. I heard mention he is a demon. He has done something as well?"
Daalumos chuckled, "I am no ordinary demon Mortal. I am a Lust. A BloodLust. I have given her a touch of rage. Only a touch. It will only serve her when she fights. As she grows, so will my gift. But I must bestow it myself. When she has become of age then I will give her the gift of an unbridled passion. Her love will have no bounds."
Celia looked at the sleeping girl then turned back, "what offering must I make to be free of my fear of losing her?"
"If I took that from you, you would not care if you did lose her. That particular fear serves us all the better than you without it! I have a much better idea. Instead of taking your fear, you will be given fury. This fury will be provoked should the child be in danger beyond her scope. This will drive you to protect her. Is that not a more appropriate gift for a mother," Phoebe asked.
Celia nodded quickly, "what offering must I make?"
Phoebe said seriously, "you must share in her faith."
Celia moved over to kneel before Phoebe, "we will claim you as our Goddess! What must I do?"
"Fetch your sword and shield," Phoebe instructed her.
The Noblewoman rushed off. She returned within minutes carrying her sword and shield. Her husband in tow with his own.
Phoebe looked at him, "you wish to share in this as well?"
Tam Malzeek held his sword forward, "I do!"
"Join your daughter in my shrine as she is," Phoebe instructed them.
The maid brought them each a bucket of water as they stripped then used them to douse themselves. The couple then entered into the shrine and knelt before the altar. They held their shields forward and raised their swords and crossed them.
"On your swords and shields do you pledge all within your power and command to the protection of this child," Phoebe asked.
They both answered, "we do."
A soft glow began to form around them.
"On your vows to each other; as man and woman, husband and wife, do you take this child for your own daughter to raise, adore and teach the ways of life until she claims that life for her own," Phoebe asked.
"We do," they answered.
Phoebe looked at them harshly, "On your honor as Knights will you grant her all she will require to achieve her vengeance against those that stole her home and family?"
Tam and Celia answered firmly, "we will!"
"To whom do you make this pledge," Phoebe asked.
They spoke clearly, "Phoebe of Nightmares. Our Goddess we pledge and make offering."
They used their swords to make small cuts on their arms and dripped the blood onto the altar.
The glow enveloped them completely as their blood dripped on the altar. Daalumos came forward and spoke again in the language of demons.
"By sword and shield and body, guard well this child you take as your own. When her danger is beyond her ability you will be consumed by a fury that will not rest until her threat is destroyed. Your love is your fury. In the name of your Goddess you have pledged," The Lust gifted them.
"Seal your oaths as you sealed your vows," Phoebe commanded.
Tam pulled Celia to him and kissed her fully on the lips. Both felt an immediate wash of rage and love. A growl escaped through their kiss and the glow faded into them.
"It is done," Phoebe stated.
Celia bowed her head, "thank you for these gifts My Goddess."
Phoebe had felt power flowing into her the whole time, it now spiked even higher. She felt as if she were heavy enough to crack the stones under her feet, yet light enough to float over the castle to her back.
"Your servant informed me you wish to make an offering of clothing," Phoebe stated.
Celia nodded, "yes My Goddess. A gown of the finest silk for your beauty and sandals to flatter your grace."
Phoebe gave her a look of approval, "This pleases me. Have it in black tinged with red. The colors of shadows and blood. I will return in five nights time. You, yourself, shall attend me. Celia of Malzeek."
Phoebe went over and took back her cloak then gently lifted up Sania and passed her sleeping form to Tam Malzeek. She then climbed onto the back of Daalumos and turned him to face them.
"Bathe her and put her to bed. In five nights I will return. I will see you on that moon-rise," Phoebe stated then entered a shadow and was gone.
Tam bowed carefully, holding their daughter as Celia curtsied.
Both replied, "yes My Goddess."
Within moments the hoof prints of flicking flames died and they gathered their things and went back inside their castle.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 5 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Jessica slowly opened her eyes. It took her a few moments to realize she was in her bed in her dorm room. The sun had already risen. A glance at the clock told her she had two hours before the start of school.
"So you decided to rejoin us," her mother's voice came from the doorway.
Jessica looked to her, "Mother! I had the most horrible of dreams!"
Lellaa Weyden waved the maid behind her to leave them then sat down on the side of Jessica's bed.
Jessica hugged her tight, "it was a nightmare Mother."
Lellaa patted her back and asked, "let me guess. You dreamed that you had been lied to, your hatred for Solos has been unfounded and that I arranged a Liaison for you with one named Patrick Fotens?"
Jessica pulled back and stared at her, "you mean; it wasn't a dream?"
To Jessica's horror her mother simply shook her head.
"WHY? Why would you do that to me? Is my humiliation to be forever," Jessica cried.
Lellaa stood up and walked over to the window to look outside. She was silent for several tense moments.
"You think I am punishing you with something degrading," Lellaa said staring out the window.
Jessica nodded and sobbed, "how could that be anything else? I was wrong for hating him just for being a Solo, I'm willing to admit that in any way to make amends. But to Liaise with him? Mother how can that be seen as anything BUT a degrading punishment from you and Father?"
Lellaa Weyden turned around and looked at her, "simple. Its a Liaison. Your Father and I have spoken on this and he is in agreement. He's rather impressed with Solo Fotens. Once its confirmed you are pregnant, he will collect his gratuity and go his way. As all Solos do. This is neither degrading nor a punishment. If I were of the mind to do THAT; you wouldn't be having a Liaison."
Jessica stared in horror of that implication. Her own mother had just practically said that she could have easily negotiated marriage instead!
"Not THAT! Please Mama NOT THAT! I'm sorry! I'm sorry Mama," Jessica whimpered in terror.
Lellaa had taken to walking around the room aimlessly, "oh if I really wanted you to suffer I'd marry you off to some Noble that would have you as no more than a decoration. The thought of taking you down to the main hall and stripping you of that gown to administer a spanking that an abused peasant girl would find a relief from her usual torment would fit if I were of the mind to degrade you."
For a moment Jessica actually considered asking her to do that instead of what she already had in store for her.
"I'd like to say that only your foolish pride is all that has suffered a slight ding. Unfortunately you've not done much of anything worth being proud of, "Queen Weyden continued. "So that point is moot, of course."
A knock at the door interrupted them followed by Fiona Doucet coming in.
"Pardon my intrusion my Ladies. I came to look in on her Highness," Fiona said gently.
Lellaa nodded and waved her on, "of course Countess. You do have your duty. By all means. I think I'll go down and breakfast with the Headmaster."
Fiona nodded, "as you wish your Majesty. I'm sure he'll enjoy your company."
Queen Lellaa left the room. Fiona looked at Jessica then went into her bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth and wiped at her face gently.
"Am I really so horrible Countess? Do I really deserve this punishment," Jessica sniffed.
Fiona sighed, "I think this is the part where I'm supposed to hug you and tell you that you're being severely mistreated."
Jessica looked up at her to see Fiona give her a very frank look.
"That's not going to happen. To be honest; you're a bitch. A pompous one at that. Don't even think of arguing your mother taking charge of you once again. Not after all the remarkable successes you've been reaping in," Fiona said with heavy sarcasm.
Jessica's jaw dropped. Until this morning nobody have ever given her a dressing down like this, but here she was getting it twice.
Fiona sat down and crossed one shapely leg over the other, "you want to get down to it? You're stuck up. You think you are the be all, end all. In reality; I personally could take you off your horse with every lance. I reviewed your contest with Fotens. He GAVE you two lances! When you go up against him again, he won't even do that. The only male here that will have anything to do with you is Prince Vaan Arento. For now. Without intervention, even he will turn away and that's saying something! If I pulled half of what you've done, my parents would have come here, yanked me out of the Academy and spanked me, naked, all the way home during my first year. I may play around PRINCESS; but only because I have, and still do, produce RESULTS my family approve of."
With wide eyes Jessica sat in shock.
"You have no idea how MANY times I've had to stop others from simply going over and literally try slapping some sense into you! To be frank, I've only stopped them because its my duty. Personally I'm surprised that someone hasn't tried to take your foolish head OFF during contest. Right now, as it is, there's heavy talk of trying to keep you out of Tournament among the students," Fiona informed her.
Jessica looked down, "how many people know what really happened against Fotens?"
Fiona thought about it for a moment then answered, "me, Sir Belvin, your two friends and Fotens himself. Your friends only know he gave you the second of the two lances. They suspect he may have given you the first. Thankfully your mother hasn't reviewed the contest or she'd REALLY have it in for you. If she knew what really happened out there, she'd have pulled you immediately and would start trying to find a way to produce another heir!"
Jessica skittered back until she hit the headboard, "Gods no!"
"Oh trust me there are worse things than what she has in mind for you! Like; becoming a Tower Maiden. The legend is true you know," Fiona said pointedly.
Jessica cringed, hugging her knees to her chest. All Noble and Royal girls knew the story. Most of the Gentry did as well, particularly those training for Knighthood. The story went that a girl born to parents that had both been Tournament champions and undefeated in official battles had sent their first and only daughter to the Academy. Her attitude and performance were so horrible they pulled her after Tournament her third year and locked her in a tower of their castle. There she was kept and the only contact she had was a maid that brought her food and the constant barrage of Liaisons. In short, she was consigned to being nothing more than a high echelon breeding girl. Some said the girl was a high noble but more insisted she had been born royal. Over the years details became fuzzy. No one could really remember what her birthing had been or which kingdom she had come from. In some of the telling; the story ended with the girl finally birthing a daughter that was taken in replacement and in anguish, she threw herself from the tower to her death. Tower Maiden was the ultimate threat to any girl that chose to become unruly.
Boys had it easier. They would simply be disowned and sent away. That didn't happen very often and those that did occasionally joined Solo groups. Those were widely known too. There was very little effort made to conceal their identities. Solo Regiments or Companies that took in such deposed persons did so grudgingly. The probationary time for them tended to be longer than others that joined.
"Who do I pray to to be born again and start all over," Jessica cried.
The Countess stood up, "your life is whatever catastrophe or conquest you make it. You have not been wronged, but you've done plenty to others. The day is new. Let that be your sign as to start atoning for your transgressions. Now compose yourself and get going Jessica Weyden; Princess of Lurbourg. I'll have no pity parties for self-inflicted stupidity."
With that the Student Council Head turned and went out, carried by her trademark elegant strides. All First year girls envied her walk and most tried to copy. One foot placed almost directly in front of the other, short extension and delayed back-step. It caused her footsteps to be light with a sharp report. The slight twist of her hips gave her butt a seductive sway which caused her skirt to swing sassily. Over ninety percent of the males in the Academy admitted to being capable of watching her all day. Like most females her boots had a high heel to them, though her boots had a heel that was slimmer than most and higher. Also Fiona's boots weren't the standard pull on kind. They laced up the front, but instead of cord laces she substituted ribbons of her family's colors.
Jessica sniffled and wiped at her tears again then got out of bed to go shower and ready herself to face the day, with all the enthusiasm of one preparing for their own funeral.
The Headmaster was trying to not enjoy breakfast with his old student, now a Queen, Lellaa Weyden too much. He had no problem in the past admitting that she had been a favored student of his. It wasn't difficult to entertain her as she was doing quite well at entertaining them both. Even going so far as to clearing up one of the minor mysteries during her attendance. He did notice that she would occasionally glance over to the table occupied by Patrick Fotens. The young Solo sat alone, as usual, reading notices.
"Pardon me Headmaster," an office staffer said behind him then added when waved forward, "this just came in."
The Headmaster took the message and read it. Lellaa sipped her drink in quiet curiosity.
The old man sighed and folded the missive then said quietly, "tell Fotens to join me in the corridor."
Lellaa was all ears now, he had mentioned Patrick specifically. She counted to ten then followed.
"You wanted to see me Headmaster," Patrick asked in the corridor.
"I did. A request has come in. You've been asked for by name. The name Dennly Flagan holds significance to you. Yes," the Headmaster asked.
Patrick nodded, "yes Sir. He was the Commander of the Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers until his death in battle eleven months ago. I was under him directly."
"Unofficially you're attached to the Seventy-Fifth. Officially you're the only remaining member of the Eighty-Sixth. Commander Cardoon of the Seventy-Fifth said that an old friend of Flagan inquired where any remaining members of the Eighty-Sixth could be found and it was mutually agreed that you're the only one. A merchant wishes to hire a member of the Eighty-Sixth as escort to a shipment. This assignment would only take two and a half, maybe three days. This is within your charter as a Solo and the terms are reasonable. Three full days escort pay, daily battle wage if any incident with bonus if successful. Since this is the end of the week I see no problem with taking the assignment if you wish," The Headmaster informed him.
Patrick thought about it for a moment then nodded, "If there's no problem then I'll take the assignment."
The Headmaster nodded to him, "excellent. Its always good for a Solo to keep his name in the know. I'll contact Commander Cardoon and the contractor to inform them of acceptance and to expect you. I will admit though; as skilled as you are, I'm a bit reluctant to send you out alone. No offense but you are only one. I think."
The Headmaster stopped talking and looked past Patrick. Patrick turned to see Jessica Weyden frozen in place with an expression of utter horror on her face.
"Princess Weyden. Good to see you up and about. Countess Doucet mentioned going to look in on you. I was having breakfast with your mother. I'm sure you could still join her," The Headmaster said then gestured for her to go inside the dining hall.
Queen Lellaa Weyden stepped into view, "no need. I'm right here. Pardon me Headmaster but I believe you are in a quandary about something. I couldn't help overhearing. I was about to collect Jessica myself but paused for your business."
The Headmaster's eyes narrowed, "so considerate of you Queen Weyden. I'm sure you would like to interject some point or other?"
Lellaa walked fully into the corridor and smiled, "yes. I think it would be a good idea if Jessica accompanied Solo Fotens. Please hear me out before objecting. Jessica has EXTREMELY limited knowledge of Solos and various services they provide. Solo Fotens would in effect have her as an apprentice. Naturally of course HE will be in charge as this is his assignment. Jessica would be there to observe and learn how a Solo performs contracted services. Should there be any encounters she would serve as a reinforcement if he should require. Of course Solo Fotens would be paid for this service. Twice the rate being paid for his assignment as he would be teaching while doing."
"This is highly unusual," Patrick remarked.
"That's putting it mildly," the Headmaster commented.
"I understand and sympathize but I do believe that this experience would very much benefit. My daughter's view of Solos was corrupted by a family member and it is only of late that its been brought to our attention. Her father and I find this unacceptable as well as her behavior. In order to rectify this I believe drastic measures must be taken. Solo Fotens, being the consummate Solo, will be nothing other than professional. I can think of no one better suited," Lellaa explained.
Jessica wanted to scream at them for talking about her as if she weren't there. Was her mother really going to send her out with him? As an apprentice too?
Patrick seemed to be thinking, "If I take this additional assignment certain conditions would have to apply."
Lellaa nodded, "please continue."
Patrick nodded, "firstly: if at anytime I believe she is at jeopardy then I need authority to send her away to safety. My priority is the escort assignment. If I feel at anytime that her presence brings undue risk then she will have to withdraw. Second: as you said so yourself. This is MY assignment. She must follow my instruction implicitly and without protest. Anything else makes her a hindrance. Thirdly: this came through as a request for a Solo of the Eighty-Sixth. Royalty was not requested or invited. Her appearance could cause a problem. She'll need to hide her identity."
"You make your points well and of course, they all of a professional nature. All three of your conditions are agreed upon and I will triple the pay-rate instead of double to reflect your professionalism. Headmaster could a set of Academy armor be made available? Solo Fotens will her mount be an issue? Will she be able to still use it," Lellaa asked.
"Academy armor will work. She can use her own mount since it's of a basic appearance. Have her carry a plain combat sword as well. Other than basic travel gear that's it," Patrick replied.
The Headmaster nodded, "very well. Her absence will be approved, but I'm implementing a condition of my own. Upon completion of this assignment I will expect an objective report from the Princess detailing what she has learned from this experience. This report will also be delivered orally to her class."
"Then its settled. Jessica will be ready to join you in an hour Solo Fotens," Lellaa said.
Patrick shook his head, "two hours. At the main gate."
Lellaa nodded, "all the better. Two hours then."
Patrick turned and left.
Lellaa looked over at her terror-struck daughter, "well? There's no time to waste! We have to get you ready. Back to your dorm room."
The Headmaster shook his head as the Queen took her daughter away, "I'm beginning to think the girl would rather give the orders for her own execution than do this."
Daalumos turned around as Patrick stepped into the chamber, "you're still Glamoured? Is there a problem my Mistress?"
Patrick shook his head, "not a problem per se. An assignment has come up for my mortal facade. One I should undertake to maintain the facade."
The bound demon shook himself, "Have you not found it taxing to constantly perform these petty acts?"
Patrick arched an eyebrow.
"Wait. There is something else. OH there is definitely something else and you believe I'll find it amusing! What is it," Daalumos asked.
"The mortal princess. She is to accompany me during the course of this assignment. As my Apprentice. She will be in my charge," Patrick stated.
Daalumos stood stock-still for a moment then roared with laughter, "your APPRENTICE! I want to meet whomever came up this entertaining display of sadism! Will you require her to address you as SIR, My Mistress?"
Patrick looked straight at the Lust and replied, "its her mother's idea."
"This Mortal is quickly gaining my favor. She's delightfully cruel and inventive. Please do go ahead with this assignment nonsense. I shall follow along just to watch the entertainment as the foolish girl's perception crumbles about her," Daalumos chuckled.
Patrick chuckled as well, "That's what I thought you would say. Stay concealed and hold back your influence unless I say otherwise. I need all the mortals intact and unstressed for this."
The demon snorted, "very well. I will restrain myself and simply take on whatever they provide on their own. This Princess will probably be able to sustain me for a whole mortal year all on her own within the first hour of being under your guidance!"
Patrick began changing into the older set of armor and remarked, "you're probably right about that."
He took up his travelpack, shield and lance after buckling on the combat sword with the crest of the Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers Regiment. Daalumos stepped outside and vanished into concealment as Patrick secured his gear to the robotic horse and mounted up. The Lust found it challenging to contain his laughter as he followed at a distance back to the main gate of the Academy. A lone figure, wearing plain armor without any marking, waited astride a robotic horse at the side of the road.
Jessica sat on her horse debating if she had time to run and hide. She felt uncomfortable in the armor. Even though it fit perfectly it wasn't her own. In fact the only things that were her own were the boots, undergarments and horse. She was about to turn her horse about and claim he left without her when she felt her stomach plummet to the ground. Patrick Fotens had come into sight. Just like he had on the day he joined the Academy. His black and green armor stood in contrast to the sky behind him.
Patrick stopped directly in front of her, his helmet hung on the side of the saddle and lance leaning against his shoulder propped in a notch of the saddle. Jessica was much the same. Unless they knew her, anyone looking would assume she was nothing more than his apprentice. Her make-up was sparse and subdued. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail tied with a plain bit of cord. Were she not wearing gloves the fact that her nail polish had also been removed would be evident. Even the earrings in her ears were simple silver studs.
"You have a complete basic travel pack," Patrick asked.
Jessica didn't trust her voice, so nodded her answer.
Patrick nodded his acknowledgement, "alright. If we don't have any problems and keep a reasonable, but quick pace, we'll be at Hamius by nightfall. We'll check in with the contractor and lodge the night. We'll move out at first light. Without any problems we'll arrive at the final destination sometime after noon the day after tomorrow. Nightfall at the latest. If you have questions, ask. If I give an order, obey. If I tell you to quit, you go home or back here because you are in danger beyond our ability. I will do that only as a last resort. I can not have you taken to be ransomed or worse. Do I need to give you any more highly specific instruction?"
Jessica shook her head.
"If I find I need to, I will. The escort is the priority; not you. For the duration of this assignment you are not to reveal to anyone your true identity. If you need to give a last name give Mulhanten. Jessica Mulhanten the only illegitimate child to Evgar Mulhanten and I have you in apprenticeship. Evgar was the second in command of the Eighty-Sixth. In truth he was childless. No one will contradict this because he died in battle a year ago. He left you an inheritance that allowed you to enter the Academy but you have to work under me to complete it. You're a Second year," Patrick instructed her.
Jessica nodded.
"You are my apprentice. Just call me Patrick around others. WHATEVER you do; DON'T correct anyone at how they address you. For the next three days you are NOT a princess. Revealing that can get you taken captive and your parents may not buy you back for being stupid. Are we clear," Patrick asked pointedly.
Again Jessica nodded.
"No good. Yes or no," Patrick stated.
"Yes," Jessica choked out.
Patrick turned Daemon around, "then let's move out."
Jessica spurred Mars to follow then urged him on when Patrick increased speed to a light gallop. In her mind she was picturing her lance sticking out of the Solo's back and stomping his head deeper and deeper into a roadside mud hole. Only Patrick could hear the roaring of laughter coming from the bound demon moving along nearby invisible to mortal eyes. They rode for four hours until reaching a village and slowed to a walk. Jessica wondered if they were going to just pass through when Patrick stopped and looked back.
He edged Daemon closer to Mars and asked, "did you only bring armor or do you have any clothes?"
"Just the armor. We didn't think any of my clothes would be appropriate. Is that a problem," Jessica asked.
Patrick nodded, "yes but we can fix it. There is an outfitter."
They turned their horses around and went back to a shop and dismounted. Jessica followed him inside. An older man nodded to them.
"Welcome. How can I service you," The old man asked.
Patrick gestured to Jessica, "She had a problem the other day and hired out for laundry. They made the problem worse and now she needs something to wear."
The man looked her up and down, "A Solo? I take it she needs your colors. Not a problem. Right this way, my daughter can fit her."
Jessica followed a girl who looked only a year or two younger to the back. Fifteen minutes later she came out wearing a green skirt and blouse covered by a black jacket with ruffled train and black pumps.
Patrick nodded, "that's good. Add a pair of riding pants and boots. We need to keep moving."
Jessica went back while he went over and paid the bill. When Jessica came back out she was back in armor and had her clothing in a travel bag. Instead of remounting they walked a ways down and stopped at a baker's. Patrick bought them two lunch pies and drinks. The two ate as they walked out of town. Just outside the border they mounted up and continued riding at a walk. After an hour they sped up to a hard gallop to make up for their stop. It was late afternoon when they slowed down to a walk for a break.
"May I ask you something," Jessica asked.
Patrick replied, "yes."
"Why the clothes," the princess asked.
"On the way back we'll have to stay in armor because we won't be lodging. Tonight though we will and we have to meet the contractor. It wouldn't be comfortable or wise to be in armor later on. So you'll wear clothes. You're not a Solo so you don't have a uniform. Those clothes look like what an apprentice would wear. Its part of the disguise," Patrick stated.
Jessica saw the reasoning, "Did you save the ticket? You'll need to be reimbursed. I didn't bring much money with me as Mother thought that as an apprentice I shouldn't have much. I can reimburse you when we get back to the Academy."
Patrick nodded, "I saved it. I'll be picking up all your expenses. That too, is part of the disguise. I'll send all your tickets to your mother afterward along with my statement. All my tickets go to the contractor starting when we depart. You work for me so I keep your tickets. When we reach the final destination and the job is done, I turn all mine in, along with my statement. He pays me. You 'work for me' so I 'pay you' off my end. The main thing is that you go with as little attention to you."
"Why is that," Jessica asked.
"To be honest; because of who, or rather what, you are. The more you exchange with them, the greater the risk of you betraying yourself. Since you were born; you've been taught to speak and handle yourself a certain way. Very formal. That wouldn't be that big of a problem if you didn't expect the same. You do and that's the biggest problem. You don't date so that works for and against you. It means that if you dance its formal. Few Solo men dance formal. The Solo women do but more do so informally. I doubt we'll actually have time for socializing. The fact that you don't date means that you don't have any casual skills around males. You barely talk to any in Academy, so the odds of you doing so socially outside the Academy are lower than Talfar's morals," Patrick said flatly.
Jessica gawked then began to laugh after a moment she said, "I shouldn't laugh at that because its true, which makes me sound pitiful; but that last part was funny. I thought nothing was lower than his morals!"
Patrick shrugged, "from what I hear; the slime under rocks in the sewer ditch run a close contest."
"Yes but his record on the field is hard to argue against," Jessica admitted.
"He's not that good. He studies his opponents in detail. Especially their injuries so he can exploit them. His first lance is always the most critical. He goes for any weakness he has found. After that he just keeps hammering at it. His biggest tactic is the dip. He makes you think he's going to suddenly drop his arm to bring up his tip, aiming for your helmet then slams straight at the base of your shield to lift and twist you off your horse," Patrick explained.
Jessica nodded, "I heard he clipped somebody's helmet once."
"That's true but there's a story to it. The story goes that as a Second year he ended up in a personal contest with a Fourth year Gentry. The Gentry broken two lances on him. Talfar went for a helmet strike and almost took his head completely off. The Gentry couldn't continue so Talfar won. That's how he got his reputation for going for 'accidental' helmet hits," Patrick told her.
Jessica snarled, "disgraceful!"
"He paid the Gentry to let him do it. The whole contest was for show," Patrick said bluntly.
"How do you know," Jessica asked even more shocked.
Patrick gave her a look that said she overlooked the obvious, "one of the stable mechanics saw it all. Six hundred coins to hit the helmet and win. A thousand if it really hurt him. He got his six hundred in advance. The Gentry got paid, Talfar got a reputation and everybody believes he'll do it to them if he thinks he can get away with it. His other trick is to use his own lances in personal contest. They're composite not wood, so he hits harder to knock you off."
Jessica sighed, "so how do you beat him?"
"Without mercy. How are you going to beat him," Patrick asked.
Jessica stared at him for a moment in confusion then wanted to smack herself. What worked for him wouldn't work for her.
"Hope I go after you and he's hurt maybe," Jessica said.
Patrick looked over at her, "now that's the most sense I've ever heard out of you. Good luck with that. He's not the one to watch out for though. Doucet is. Arento is the major contender. He looks like fluff but its only looks. He connects like a rock off a tower."
Patrick sped up to a gallop again, Jessica followed suit to keep abreast of him.
"Some have said similar of you. 'A boulder off a cliff' were the words if I remember right," Jessica commented.
Patrick remarked, "I don't think that's very accurate."
Jessica looked over, "you hit me really hard twice and dropped me once."
Patrick looked over and asked, "have you ever known anybody to be hit repeatedly by the same boulder off a cliff?"
"No. You have a point," Jessica laughed then asked, "will we make it there before sunset?"
"Maybe, but I doubt it. We'll probably get to the town not long after nightfall. Its a reasonable sized town so being out after dark won't be a problem. Is that going to be problematic," Patrick asked. "Being out at night?"
Jessica would shrug if they were going slower so just simply said, "there's been a lot of stories about that Nightmare Rider person lately. I have the impression that it wouldn't be such a good idea to encounter her."
"Well if you follow the rumors, which isn't hard; we more than likely would encounter the Nightmare Rider if we joined a battle. Personally I intend to avoid that if possible. We have enough going on as it is," Patrick replied.
"We do," Jessica asked.
Patrick nodded, "I have the escort assignment and teaching you the ways of Solos. You have the assignment of learning those ways and maintaining your disguise. That's plenty to have going on."
Jessica to her credit, caught on quick, "fair point. I'll do my best."
"Just think twice before opening your mouth and keep your hand off any weapons unless I go first and you should stay out of most trouble," Patrick stated.
Jessica glared, "think twice before opening my mouth?"
"You did get into a personal contest with me," Patrick reminded.
Jessica groaned, "I'll never hear the end of it."
Patrick pulled up to stop and faced her when she did the same.
"You did something dumb. Then you did something stupid. You at least met the price of that stupidity. You know you have flaws. Do something about them or do something about your sense of shame. Do one of those soon because you'll be facing me again at the end of next week," Patrick told her bluntly.
Jessica sighed, "you're going to win against Dante."
Patrick nodded, "He's not bad, but he needs more time to learn how not to be taken out of the saddle. Maybe next year he'll have a better record. Its about skill, strength and strategy. His is limited and he hasn't realized it yet. Let's go."
They went back to the hard gallop. Jessica rode silently thinking about what he pointed out.
Patrick gave something more to think on, "you have a family name. Credit or blight, that's all on you Weyden. What you say and what you do matters to others. It reflects on them. My name I took for myself. I have no family. I serve myself according to the code of Solos. I take what I earn and will keep what I have. There's no honor or obligation for me, only the terms of the contract."
They continued to ride on after that in silence. He had given her much to think about. Just as the sun's last light was fading they could see lights in the distance. The horses were slowed to a trot then walk when they had drawn close enough to see a town patrol manning the road. Patrick pulled up Daemon when they arrived at the men.
"Solo and apprentice of the Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers Regiment. Lodging for the night," Patrick stated.
One of the patrol nodded, "There's a Registry on the north side of the square if you're looking for notices."
"Thanks," Patrick replied then spurred Daemon to walk forward.
Jessica walked Mars along side him. They found the square without a problem and stopped at a small building. There was a board beside the door that had several notices. Patrick glanced over them. Jessica did as well.
'He already has an assignment, why is he looking over the notices,' Jessica wondered to herself.
Of course there were the offers of assignments. There were also advertisements for goods and services. Three taverns claimed to cater to Solos and had rooms for nightly and weekly rates. Stables with mechanics. Armorers and weapon-smiths. Down at the bottom was a handwritten scrap of notepaper. A tavern that offered rooms.
"Let's go," Patrick turning Daemon and heading away from the Registry.
The rode down the main street then turned right at the third street to stop seven buildings down. Jessica followed him to dismount then go inside. The small tavern was fairly quiet with only two men sitting at the bar and a woman sitting at a table alone by the window.
Patrick walked over to the man behind the bar, "any rooms for the night?"
"Yes Sir. I have horse stalls as well, out back. Ten coins per room and two coins per stall. The rooms do have bathrooms," the Keeper replied.
Patrick counted out coins and handed them over, "just the night."
The Keeper took the coins then handed Patrick key. Patrick turned and motioned for Jessica to go back outside. Outside they took their horses around to the back and found two stalls. The horses were stabled for the night then Patrick led Jessica back inside and up the stairs. Checking the number against the key marker he stopped and opened the door. Jessica followed him in and closed the door. When she turned around she found herself in shock again. There was only one bed.
"Uh," she stammered.
Patrick set down his pack, "the bed is yours. Go ahead and get cleaned up. I'll do the same while you get dressed."
Jessica glanced around then said meekly, "could you help me with my armor?"
Patrick looked at her blankly then reached over and unfastened the two main points of her torso section, "there you go."
Slowly and hesitantly Jessica removed her armor. Patrick had his completely off in a quarter of the time and arranged in the corner on a table. Jessica placed her's on a stand and tried to keep her back to him the entire time.
"Get a move on. We don't have all night," Patrick remarked.
Jessica rushed into the bathroom. It was several minutes later that she leaned out.
"Could you not look please," Jessica asked.
"Wrap the towel around you and come out. I need to get in there," Patrick said and started toward the bathroom.
Jessica came out turning away from him and blushing deeply. He ignored her and went inside. Minutes later he came back out with a towel around his waist. While he had been in the bathroom she had hurried to dry her hair and dress.
Patrick had slipped on the shorts, socks and pants.
"If you're wearing a bra, take it off," Patrick said in a low voice over his shoulder.
Jessica looked angrily at him, "WHY?"
"If they've been wearing armor all day and riding, Solo women don't wear them at night out of armor. Most don't wear anything at all under their uniform but you're young so some shyness is to be expected. Going without a bra at night is a matter of comfort and very common," Patrick stated.
As much as Jessica hated to admit it, he was right. The armor had rubbed against her all day. She had been looking forward to being without one while sleeping, before finding out they were sharing a room. Slowly she unbuttoned the blouse after pulling it from the waist of the skirt. Carefully she managed to get the piece of lingerie off without taking the blouse off completely then buttoned up and tucked the blouse into the skirt. She slipped on the pumps and picked up her jacket. Patrick was already buckling on a sword-belt. The pommel held the crest of the Eighty-Sixth.
Jessica almost squawked when he came over and unbuttoned the top four buttons of her blouse to reveal noteworthy cleavage then adjusted her jacket to be open except for the bottom button. He took her sword-belt and loosened it two notches then tilted it on her hips.
"Your face is fine as is. Take your hair loose though. Solo women do casual beauty unless dealing with royal or noble clients off the field," Patrick informed her. "Now pay close attention. I do all the talking with the contractor. Basically pretend you aren't there. If they offer anything, decline it. Even the bathroom. When you are met, you nod your head and then become part of the scenery. Watch, listen and LEARN. Let's go."
Jessica looked herself over without glancing at the mirror, "I look alright? I mean; do I look, you know, right?"
Patrick nodded, "you look believable and that's what matters. Solo women don't hide the fact."
"What fact," Jessica asked. "That they're Solos or women?"
"Both. We'll discuss it more later. Let's go," Patrick said then led her out.
Downstairs the tavern had picked up in business. There were quite a few people milling around. Patrick glanced but continued for the door.
"Don't forget the name of this place. You can recommend it to your buddy Arento," Patrick said when they were outside.
"Vaan? Why," Jessica asked.
Patrick led her down the street, "all those women were really men. Arento would have the time of his life in there. His favorite thing in the world are people that do things their own way. Most people think he's a few plates missing from dinner. He isn't. When Arento shows who and what he really is; his people will love him so much, they would crawl through fire for him. And for that he will make sure they NEVER will."
Jessica's jaw almost dragged in the street. All she thought she knew just went with the puff of street dust beneath her shoes.
"I really don't know anything do I," she said more to herself than him.
Patrick stopped at a house and knocked at the door, "you have no idea."
The door opened and a man greeted them, "Solo Fotens. Nice to meet you. Come right in."
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 6 of
The Nightmare Rider |
The door opened and a man greeted them, "Solo Fotens. Nice to meet you. Come right in."
Patrick stepped inside, followed by Jessica. The man regarded her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know there were two Solos," The man remarked.
"There aren't. I'm the remaining member of the Eighty-Sixth. Jessica Mulhanten is my apprentice," Patrick stated.
The man nodded, "OH! Actually I'm rather pleased. My niece is coming on the trip. I feel even better knowing there is someone that would be able to look after her. At certain times."
It took Jessica a moment to understand the meaning, then she got it. There would be times when personal matters needed attending and she would not be comfortable with a male close by. With Jessica there, it would be fine. Jessica nodded to the man.
"Oh. My name is Gareth Orvin in case it wasn't in the request," Gareth introduced himself.
Patrick nodded, "It was. The terms are to escort your travel by wagon from here in Hamius, Bergitan to Weregaar, Sacania. One and a half to two days travel. The wages are for three days. If we're engaged then you'll be additionally charged a day's battle wage for that day. Any bonuses are at your determination. Single Solo wages."
Gareth was reviewing the contract on his tablet but shook his head, "those were the terms before I became aware of your apprentice. This is welcome by me and I want to adjust accordingly."
"Adjust," Patrick asked with his eyes narrowing.
Gareth nodded, "of course! I wouldn't dare propose anything less than above board. I'll increase the wages to accommodate your apprentice. All wages, plus half over. I'm a legitimate business, I'll have no dispute saying otherwise. Do you find the new terms acceptable?"
Gareth handed Patrick the tablet with the new contract. Patrick read it over then signed it.
"Accepted Mr. Orvin," Patrick stated and handed back the tablet and laid his ledger on the table.
The contract was sent to Patrick's ledger. Patrick checked it over and saw it was the same as he had seen.
"We have a contract Mr. Orvin," Patrick said. "Please be ready to begin at dawn."
Gareth shook hands with Patrick, "I'm already prepared. I have only to hitch my horse to the wagon and climb aboard."
Patrick stood up and took his ledger, "until morning then."
"Until morning," Gareth echoed with a smile and showed the two out.
After the door closed and they walked a fair distance away Jessica let out a sigh of relief.
"That went well," She said pleased that her disguise had not been closely inspected.
Patrick shrugged, "he's lying."
Jessica gawked, "What? How can he? He barely paid me any attention."
"Not about you. He believes you are who and what we say you are. He's lying about the purpose of the trip," Patrick stated.
Jessica looked back to where they had been then to Patrick, "how can you tell?"
"He paid more attention to you than he should. He made sure that your presence is noted. He did that for a reason. Someone else has a vested interest," Patrick said.
Jessica was still confused and stopped, "his place looked real enough."
Patrick waved her to keep walking, "it is. He is a legitimate business man. That's what makes the lie believable. In short he has been hired to hire us."
"So the goods on the wagon aren't for real," Jessica asked.
Patrick shrugged, "they probably are. Its the people that are the real job. The niece more than likely is someone important. This happens sometimes. A real person is contracted to hire Solos under a legitimate contract. Unless someone who knows everything betrays the contractors then no one will really know what is actually important. We're being hired to escort a merchant and his goods. In truth we're being hired to escort a person under the ruse of protecting a merchant with goods. At the end of the assignment we'll be given a bonus and they'll confess to the ruse."
"Should I worry about being recognized even more," Jessica asked.
Patrick thought about it, "maybe, maybe not. This girl is not a knight. Probably not a first-born. We could speculate all night and not come up with what's true. What matters is that we are aware of the subterfuge and can act accordingly. Unless you know this girl can recognize you on sight, stay close to her. We have to act as though we are unaware and when they reveal themselves we have to act accordingly. In short follow my lead."
Jessica nodded, "so I just keep doing what I have been. Eyes and ears open, mouth closed unless I don't understand what you do."
"Yes. But now when you have questions you have to be more discreet asking them. The girl may attach herself to you. She'll view you as her real protector so don't be surprised if you're asked to go everywhere with her," Patrick informed her as they arrived back at the tavern.
"Alright. Should I act nonchalant about it or should I act like I'm seeing it as my own assignment and its the first," Jessica asked.
Patrick stopped and regarded her then answered, "act like I told you to view it as your first assignment and you're trying to be nonchalant but every so often let it barely slip that you really are excited about it. This is the first time you're being taken seriously. Act like that."
"Oh. I can do that," Jessica said then followed him inside.
Inside the night was apparently in full-swing. There were men and women. There were also men that were presenting themselves as women and vice versa. The bartender noticed them and pointed to a table with a blue candle lit. Patrick and Jessica seated themselves and the bartender came over and took the candle away.
"What can I get for you," he asked.
"Two dinners," Patrick replied.
The bartender nodded and went to place their order. Jessica looked around at the patrons. The outfits or antics of some of them made her want to giggle. Prerecorded music started and three women stepped up onto a platform and began to pantomime singing lyrics with synchronized dance moves. It was pretty obvious as there were no microphones or other device to amplify their real voices. When the song ended the crowd applauded them as they stepped down to be replaced by a feminine looking man. A song was played and he did the same but to a male song. A waitress brought a tray over and set down their plates and drinks. Jessica noticed the waitress was a very feminine looking male.
"Thank you," Jessica smiled.
The waitress smiled back, "you're welcome! Please enjoy!"
Patrick nodded and began to eat without hesitation. Jessica tasted her own then began to eat as well.
Jessica used a napkin then commented, "it can never be said you don't take a girl to interesting places."
Patrick glanced up and saw she was trying not to laugh.
"The notice said they had rooms and a stable. Didn't mention a floor show. Seeing it all now, this is probably the best place in town for you to be," Patrick admitted.
Jessica had went back to eating and swallowed then asked in confusion, "it is? Why is that?"
Patrick nodded to the crowd, "see any soldiers or knights?"
"No," Jessica replied.
Patrick nodded, "If there are any they aren't thinking about fighting or anything other than having a good time. Any business discussion is of an intimate nature or in regards to appearance. In a place that caters to Solos, everyone is looking for something to get into. In a place like that, you're at a higher risk of discovery. In this place, featuring alternative entertainment, you have greater chance at anonymity. Nobody wants to fight here and all interactions are with known people. In short, neither one of us are anybody's type."
Jessica blinked then frowned, "wow THAT'S blunt."
"That's truth. Nobody will pay me to save my own ass. Bar fights and the like are a problem. Its for fools. They think it helps establish reputation. They're wrong, it hurts it. True Solos avoid that nonsense," Patrick stated.
Jessica studied him then sighed in comprehension, "because nothing is personal. Its all business, only the terms of the contract matter."
Patrick nodded, "correct. One day you may need a Solo for some reason. If you don't understand what they do, how they do it and especially why, you'll find yourself lost and spending more money than you intended or not getting what you need."
"What if I'm getting something I don't want but have no choice in the matter," Jessica muttered.
"Every contract has a forfeiture clause," Patrick replied.
The incognito princess was riveted now, "really?"
Patrick finished his meal, "of course. There are times when one party simply are not able to fulfill their end. That's when it gets nasty."
"So say I weren't there for our Liaison; the contract would go into that clause," Jessica asked slyly.
"The Liaison would become engagement," Patrick answered flatly.
Jessica's eyes widened in horror and she whispered, "NO!"
Patrick sipped his drink, "and your parents would pronounce me as successor. No more Weydens. Your mother was very careful to add that part and even smiled when I read it."
Jessica wanted to cry.
"Life lesson. If you make a deal that effects other people, make sure that if the terms can't be met then the penalty for that is worse than any outcome if they are met," Patrick informed her.
Jessica glared at him, "its NOT fair. I was wrong and I admit that. I did something very stupid. I admit that too. I'd be happy to atone for that. But the Liaison and the penalty clause is going too far!"
"Take that up with her, I have no problem meeting my terms," Patrick said as the waitress came back and started taking the empty plates away. He set some coins on the tray and was given a ticket. "could be worse."
Jessica groaned, "Yes? HOW?"
Patrick was filing the ticket away and shrugged, "I'm not Talfar."
Fiona Doucet sat with Lellaa Weyden in the overnight guest room.
"Queen Lellaa I'm a bit worried," Fiona remarked.
Lellaa sighed, "The Liaison contract?"
"The forfeiture clause. If you think the Princess was upset when you told her about the Liaison, the terms of the forfeiture clause could drive her over the edge. Solo Fotens won't lie about it either. If she asks; he'll tell her," Fiona stated.
Lellaa smiled, "of course. I'm practically COUNTING on him to!"
Fiona Doucet looked shocked, "Queen Weyden what exactly is your goal?"
"When they return Jessica's attitude must be changed. She must possess understanding and compassion. Also humility. If she has changed for the better when they return then I will buy out of the contract. If she has not then it still stands and she had better be victorious in Tournament. Or at least better than him, that's HER only way out," Lellaa said.
"I'm sorry to say, but that won't happen. Everyone has too much at stake. They ALL want to get to Tournament and win," Fiona shook her head.
Lellaa laughed, "including you Countess."
"Yes. Including me. Many have futures on the line. Once again; yes, including me. I will say this your Majesty. You are a very cruel teacher," Fiona said flatly.
Lellaa looked directly at Fiona and let go of her humor, "my daughter has an attitude problem. I believe it may be the fault of myself and her father. Harsh challenges must be met with harsh tactics. She is lucky. If she is repentant then she'll have her second chance. MY mother wouldn't have been so forgiving, which is why I was very careful NOT squander my first chance. I know for a fact YOUR parents would not be so forgiving either. They were quite illustrious here in their days. I remember them both, personally. In fact your mother unhorsed ME during my second year. I was very happy to see them both graduate. Even more glad that we've been on very friendly terms since. My husband graduated the following year and then I did."
"So you'll inflict cruelty to make up for your mistake," Fiona said acidly.
Lellaa looked back with a glint in her eyes, "Countess do not forget your own situation. It was you yourself that agreed to a conditional arrangement. If you do NOT win Tournament this year you'll be marrying the future Duke Talfar. I understand he has quite the reputation around here. Its not a complimentary one at that."
Fiona glared at the Queen, "you've no need to remind me of THAT. I honor my parents. I also will not be defeated. I'll win Tournament again. There's only ONE way Talfar can bring me down and its in violation of the agreement."
Lellaa arched an eyebrow at the statement.
Fiona smiled coldly, "he would have to go for a helmet strike. Unfortunately for him, that's not only disqualifies from Tournament, its a violation of the agreement. As would using non-regulation lances. He would forfeit the chance to marry me and his father would disown him. Oh yes Queen Weyden, I ensure proper coverage of my own backside."
"Well. It seems you have! Very clever. I'm impressed Countess. Too bad my daughter hasn't learned such common sense. She wouldn't have gained a visit from me if she had," Lellaa remarked.
Fiona let her expression soften, "perhaps your Majesty would like to indulge in a wager off the side?"
Lellaa chuckled, "Oh? Do tell Countess."
"Should the Princess return with a respect for Solos, you give her the choice of the buy-out or at least waiting until graduation for the Liaison. If I were not in this Tournament then I would protest the victory clause. None should have to dropout for such a reason," Fiona said.
Lellaa regarded her intently, "very well then. Should Jessica return with a new found respect for Solos then I will tell her she has a choice. Of course she'll have to buy-out the contract herself. She has enough to do so. Currently. However should she not have that new perspective then YOU will purchase her nightwear for her Liaison time."
Fiona nodded, "deal. I'll probably buy a few bottles of wine for those nights too. I imagine that may be the only way she'd become compliant."
"I know I had the better part of a bottle on my wedding night. I wasn't too far gone, but at least it didn't hurt so bad until the morning," Lellaa laughed. "I woke before he did and went to cry in the bath. I found out from the maid that it had been quite the night for the two of us. I guess he truly had been saving himself! I remember starting, finishing and some of the in-between."
Fiona shrugged, "but you loved him then and still do now. You would have been compliant without the wine."
Lellaa shook her head, "no Countess you misunderstand. I drank because I was compliant. Not to ensure it. The maid confessed that I never implied any discomfort during my deflowering. Only in the morning did I have discomfort. I never regretted either of those decisions. My husband did awaken while I was in the bath and came in. When he saw me he apologized so profusely I began to worry if we would ever share a bed again!"
Fiona looked shocked, "He felt that guilty?"
"He most certainly did! For the following week I had to initiate all our lovemaking," Lellaa confessed then leaned forward and smiled. "I was so glad when I finally did become pregnant. We had run out of new ways to try! The castle staff verified there wasn't a room we hadn't used at least once."
Fiona laughed at the comment and shook her head, "I'm sure they all wondered why either of you bothered to have any clothes."
"What makes you think they stopped," Lellaa laughed.
Jessica woke up from the knock at the door. She looked and saw Patrick stand up.
"We're awake. Be down in half an hour," Patrick told whomever had knocked.
Jessica stretched and got out of the bed. Patrick went into the bathroom and came back out a few moments later and began to change. She went in to get herself ready. The princess had been leery when they adjourned to the room after their meal. It took only a few minutes to study a map and plot their route. She then went into the bathroom and came out in her nightgown. He didn't even look at her. She slipped into the bed watching him. Her eyes went wide to see him take up his sword then jam it into the floor. Patrick sat down and leaned back against it and closed his eyes.
"You don't tie a string from yourself to the door or something," Jessica asked.
Patrick sighed, "the door opens in. Go to sleep."
With that she had laid down and managed to get to sleep somehow. That was then, this was now and now it was time to get busy.
"Leave the make-up off," Patrick said starting to put on his armor. "We'll be riding with our helmets on so the make-up will just melt off anyway. During the day we'll take about breaks and you can take the helmet off completely. Helmet on, visor up unless something happens. If something does happen; snap it down and either fight or run, which ever I tell you to do."
They finished preparing then went downstairs. The tired looking bartender was setting down two plates on the bar. Patrick and Jessica set their packs on a table and took seats at the bar.
Jessica looked over the plate. Even though it wasn't Academy or her family's castle, the food did look and smell good. Eggs and thick steak with a pile of shredded potato, fried to a gently crisp gold. There were also thick slices of toast and the choice of a creamy butter or fruit spread. Jessica went with the fruit spread and closed her eyes in pleasure.
"This is GOOD," she smiled.
The bartender smiled back as he set down a glass of juice for her, "Thank you Miss. I don't have many overnights like you. Mostly just the friends of my, uh, daughter. Some stay overnight, but its not the same."
"You got a nice place. We'll spread discreet word. I'm on good terms with the Seventy-Fifth FreeLancers and they'd appreciate a place they can relax. Some are more open-minded than others in the Regiment and would like to know," Patrick remarked.
"Can your daughter style hair good," Jessica asked.
The bartender shrugged, "I think so. I don't really know about those things."
Jessica chuckled, "well the main thing is getting clean hair after traveling. After we ride a long time with helmets on, one thing women want, besides a long bath, is to have our hair cleaned really good. If she can do that it'll give you a good reputation with the women Solos. Being fancy isn't so important a lot, but being clean feels great."
"That's something to keep in mind. Thank you Miss. This is for you," the bartender said and handed her a jar of the fruit spread. It was the same as she was having but an unopened jar. "I make it myself. In trade for your suggestions."
They finished eating and Patrick passed over some coins.
"Food's good as is. Don't change anything on that," Patrick said taking his ticket and adding it to his ledger.
The bartender nodded, "Thank you Sir. Have a good journey. You can go through that door to get to the stable."
"Goodbye," Jessica said as they picked up their things and went out.
In the stable they readied their horses then led them out and mounted. Patrick led them over to the Orvin's place and met them on the street. A young woman about Jessica's age was climbing up to the wagon's seat.
"Ready Mr. Orvin," Patrick asked.
Gareth nodded then introduced everyone, "Zelle this is Solo Patrick Fotens of the Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers and his apprentice Jessica Mulhanten. They are our escorts. Solo Fotens, Apprentice Mulhanten; this is my neice Zelle Turrien. She's never met Solos before so she's a bit shy."
Patrick nodded, "We're not much for conversation Miss Turrien but we'll get where we're going. If you're ready Mr. Orvin let's move out. I'd like to be clear of the town border by sun up."
"By your leave Solo Fotens," Gareth said.
Patrick and Jessica put on their helmets then spurred their horses. At the end of the street Patrick turned them for the south road. They had a few horse lengths lead.
Jessica said in a low voice, "you were right. It is the girl."
"I'm not surprised. Does she know you," Patrick asked.
Jessica resisted the urge to shake her head, "no. She's never seen me, but I've seen her. She's the fourth daughter of the Marquis Feldarin. That's all I know. The oldest daughter graduated from the Academy with a decent ranking five years ago. Her I do know. The brother wasn't suited for battle, he's really good with money. He went to the college of Finance and adviser to their King now. Daughter Two went to the School of Relations and is a diplomat. Daughter Three entered a sisterhood and belongs to a temple."
"That's a list. So the best guess is our charge is of Leisure and possibly being married off," Patrick mused.
Jessica thought about it, "that's the strong possibility. She's definitely pretty, even trying to hide it. She wouldn't recognize me. Whomever she is going to might though."
Patrick sighed, "alright. If we make it to the end without you being recognized then don't reveal. At the end if somebody important collects her that will, you can reveal yourself after they reveal her. If Orvin is the only one that reveals then don't."
"Won't me revealing who I am be bad for you," Jessica asked.
Patrick chuckled, "no. You're being educated. It will actually help me, plus put yourself in a better light. Think about it. A Solo in charge of the education of you makes me look good to be that reputable. That you didn't back out after learning her identity makes you look good in that you stayed with her. This actually helps you with your reputation. You need it."
Jessica thought about that, "ok. Honestly, I do need it. So I stay with the 'first assignment' attitude?"
Patrick looked back, "turn your horse and check behind us. That's good. No. Don't act like this is your first. Act like you do this all the time. The girl is the girl and you guard her. Little conversation but be obvious you are keeping her under your watch. Her station means nothing to you. You are a professional. Go with that. Aloof and detached, but mindful."
Patrick spoke louder then, "I'll take the first round."
Patrick turned and rode back to the wagon and walked around it then told Gareth, "we're going to speed up to make some time."
Gareth nodded, "that's just fine Solo Fotens. Thank you."
The robotic Draft-style horse sped up to a fast trot. The wagon had a cushioning system so the road conditions didn't unsettle them. Daemon galloped to rejoin Mars and they trotted alongside each other. Three hours and several rounds later Patrick nodded to Jessica to go check on their charge.
Jessica rounded them again but returned to the girl's side, "Miss we're making good time. Do you or your Uncle need to stop for anything?"
The girl looked at her in surprise. She had expected to be addressed directly at all.
Gareth chuckled, "Go on. Apprentice Mulhanten is thinking of your comfort."
Zelle smiled shyly, "Thank you for asking Apprentice Mulhanten. I think I'm alright for now."
Jessica made Mars prance sideways, "I'll check back in a while."
Jessica turned Mars and rode back up to join Patrick, "They want to continue for now."
"Right. We'll go another hour," Patrick said.
Another later they did stop. Jessica led Zelle out of line of sight for some privacy. She would have giggled at the girl's awkwardness of having to relieve herself in such manner but remembered the first time she had done so as well. When Zelle had finished Jessica quickly did the same then led her back after washing their hands in a small stream.
"I'm not used to that Apprentice Mulhanten. I apologize for not being comfortable out of doors," Zelle confided.
Jessica shook her head, "no need. It's not for everyone Miss. You're doing well so far."
Zelle gave her a shy smile, "I'm grateful you're here Apprentice Mulhanten. I'd be very uncomfortable otherwise."
"Try your best to relax and enjoy the scenery Miss. The countryside is pleasant as is the weather. You shouldn't let something so small as a few moments of guarded awkwardness affect a good travel," Jessica advised.
Zelle tried to rally herself, "thank you Apprentice Mulhanten. I'll take your advice to heart."
They rejoined the wagon and horses. Orvin had set down a blanket and basket. Zelle sat down on the blanket with Gareth and accepted a pie in a stay-fresh wrapper and a bottled drink. Patrick handed Jessica a ration bar. She drank from her saddle canteen.
"Walk around as much as you can and eat a piece of fruit. It'll keep you from cramping and let you dry some," Patrick instructed.
Jessica did as she was told. After a few minutes she noticed that she was standing alone on one side of the small picnic and he was on the other. He tapped his helmet then took it off. She did the same. She watched Patrick as she periodically looked around. For a moment she wondered why he thought they had all the time in the world then scolded herself. They weren't traveling on their time, they were traveling on the Merchant's time. Or rather, the girl's time. Now that she thought about it, this was probably the first time she had traveled further than a few hours. Patrick was taking them on a less populated route, claiming that any potential problems would lay going between towns which always had scouts for raiding groups. The way they were going was more like a livestock path than a road.
Jessica wanted to smack her own head. Patrick chose this route for security and the resources. Raiders patrolled more traveled and developed routes to strike. The only people they would encounter along this way were farmers and ranchers moving herds. Because real animals were moved along this way, meadows and water sources were more plentiful for when they needed to stop. Also it was quieter so they would hear the approach of anyone and straighter to increase visibility. The terrain was rougher and made them go slower but because of the girl they needed to do that anyway. Plus nobody they should encounter this way would recognize either herself or the girl.
They had rested for over half an hour when Gareth stood up then helped Zelle to her feet and gathered the blanket and basket.
"I believe we're ready to continue on," Gareth said happily.
Patrick put his helmet back on and went to re-mount. Jessica did the same. The wagon eased back onto the path and the draft horse sped up to follow the two riders ahead. Jessica informed Patrick of her thoughts.
"Correct. Now you're really learning. If anybody does discover us; first they'll think we're locals. If they do think otherwise, they'll think the goods are why. The path would be too rough for high-borne people to travel. That's what others will think and we want to encourage that. Most assume that even a princess in armor is still pampered and not really willing to go off into the wilds. You want to encourage that thinking. It will serve you WELL," Patrick informed her.
Jessica wanted to take immediate offense but realized that again, he was right. If any adversary thought she was indeed pampered, they would never suspect she would be going around them. Therefore avoiding needless engagement. Now she was starting to understand. Solos made choices. Choices after much thought. By avoiding having to defend themselves on a constant basis for personal reasons they avoided pursuit. They fought for profit and after the battle is over they collect their pay and leave. They don't take any spoils or prisoners, which would make things personal. They only take the money they are promised by the side contracting them. Bar fights and other altercations were purely personal unless in the employ of the business it happens at. She now also understood why Solos stayed on the move. It ensured there was no attachment to places and people.
"Nothing truly is personal," Jessica said to herself.
She had been talking to herself but Patrick had heard, "sounds like you just had an epiphany."
Jessica answered, "yes. Solos have no homes. No kingdoms. No friends. No allies. They never stop moving to make sure of that. Solos aren't defenders. They have nothing to defend. If they did, they wouldn't be able to be Solos. Since they have nowhere to call home they care nothing for how a place is run, no politics. I understand why you aren't in the Seventy-fifth. You would have that attachment. By remaining the Eighty-Sixth you are to yourself only. All that matters is the contract. That is what it means to be a Solo."
"Quite the epiphany. Think of that as your starting point. Go from there," Patrick told her.
In silence they rode on, periodically taking turns circling around the wagon. Jessica noticed that Zelle would smile to her when it was her turn to check on them, but in general her expression was remaining pleasant as she took in the sights around her. The day wore on and Patrick began checking the position of the sun. Not long after Jessica noticed he also began really looking at the surrounding area. When Patrick slowed his horse, Jessica did too. The wagon came up between them.
"I'm looking for a good place to stop for the night," Patrick told Orvin.
Gareth nodded, "If you see one that would be nice. The day is almost gone."
"I'll ride ahead just a way. She'll stay with you. I won't be long," Patrick said then nodded to Jessica.
Jessica nodded back and kept Mars alongside the wagon. Patrick rode ahead at a hard gallop. Once he knew he was out of earshot, called out.
"Daalumos," Patrick said.
The bound demon answered, "yes my Mistress?"
"I feel no mortals other than our own. What of you," he asked.
Daalumos replied, "none for miles and not for over an hour. I believe we are alone."
Patrick had gained another treeline separating meadows and saw a clearing of a good size within. He pulled Daemon to a stop and checked it.
"I feel there is water close," Patrick stated then asked, "do you feel any consecration?"
"No my Mistress. I believe this place with serve the mortals' needs," Daalumos answered.
Patrick nodded then wandered around. There was a creek with several large rocks along side and in it. Patrick returned to the path but turned to Daalumos.
"Keep a safe distance. I will need you to warn me of any mortals approaching during the night," Patrick informed him.
The Lust tossed his head, "as you wish my Mistress. Your pet princess has been ranging from anger to confusion all day. One moment she wants to bash in your head and the next she is wanting to ask you endless questions. She is quite amusing."
Patrick sighed, "at least you're entertained. I'll bring the mortals here and make camp for the night. On your way."
Daalumos chuckled then faded from view again. Patrick turned Daemon and rode back.
"I found a place just up ahead," Patrick informed them.
A few minutes later the wagon slowly eased into the clearing. Orvin turned the wagon according to Patrick's instructions. Patrick then stood Daemon off to one side. Jessica thought she should do the same on the opposite side and did so. They both removed their helmets and hung them on the side of their saddles.
"Wander around and pick up sticks from the ground. None too big," Patrick said quietly to Jessica.
Moving in opposite directions the scoured the ground for dead-fall and came back with an armload each. Another trip around the clearing added to their pile. Jessica helped him lay smaller pieces along with some forest litter. He retrieved a metallic looking bar and a small knife. It took four tries to make sparks hot enough to ignite the roughed leaves. It didn't take long for Patrick to coax the single small flame into a crackling fire. Though the day had been warm, Patrick knew the coming night would be quite cool.
Patrick spoke to Jessica in a low voice, "over that way about forty paces is a creek. You need to cool down and dry before nightfall. She would probably like to wash up some as well."
Jessica nodded then went to Mars and took her pack.
"Miss. Why don't we take a short walk," Jessica suggested then leaned in close, "bring along a change."
Zelle looked at her in puzzlement but did as was asked. She followed the imposing but kind young woman. A few moments later they rounded some brush and came up short. The two young women stared in surprise.
"This is PRETTY," Zelle gushed.
Jessica nodded, "very much so. Let's not waste a moment of it!"
Zelle giggled. Jessica pushed her sword into the ground close by then began unfastening her armor. She had watched Patrick covertly the night before and saw how he did it so she would know how. She arranged the pieces so they would have air circulate into them.
When Jessica was down to the soft undergarments she stepped onto a rock at the water's edge and sat down. It rose only a couple of inches out of the water with one taller behind it. She stripped off the bottoms and tank then eased into the water.
"OOH!" She exclaimed then giggled. "The water's cool but not cold. It feels great!"
Zelle finished undressing but shyly held her hands in front of her and joined Jessica in the water.
Jessica shook her head, "no need to feel embarrassed. Its just us. Here, sit up here."
Zelle shyly moved onto a rock and watched as Jessica took a washcloth and a small bottle of wash. She almost felt like a little girl again with the way Jessica lathered then rinsed her. Using handfuls of water Jessica wet down her hair then used her own shampoo and conditioner. Zelle eased back down into the water and watched as Jessica bathed herself.
When Jessica finished rinsing herself clean Zelle spoke up.
"I wish I could be as brave as you are," Zelle said quietly.
Jessica sighed, "there are all kinds of bravery Miss. Not all require one to don armor and mount a horse. Think of the Farmer. Every morning the Farmer awakens, before the sun has, and goes out to tend animals or prepare for the fields. The day may be hot, cold, raining or even snowing yet everyday the Farmer works his fields and herds. Too much rain drowns and washes the crops away, not enough rain and they wilt and burn. Its a harsh life and many times it will seem like he fights a battle that he can never win nor will it ever end. To face that every day is brave."
Zelle looked at her in awe.
Jessica continued, "Mothers are much the same. Every day they tend to their children. Keep them clean, keep them fed, keep them healthy. There is so much a mother must do, sometimes there are not enough hours in the day and night. I put on my armor and mount my horse. When the battle is done I collect my pay and leave. This is the way of the Solo. I have no home, no country, no ruler. I have only the terms of the contract. I hate no one, I love no one. Someone wiser than I once said, 'If you want truth seek a philosopher. If you want fact, seek a teacher. If you want warriors that will never betray you, pay the Solos.' We all have a place in this world. No one person can change that. They can change themselves and how they view the world. Use this an opportunity Miss. See the world, as it IS, not as someone would like you to believe. People can hide the world from you. Show you a false front. You must learn to see beyond that. Ask not the person at the front of the crowd in the Square, ask the bartender two streets away."
"I never thought about it like that," Zelle admitted.
Jessica sighed, "this isn't a new concept Miss. If you want a good horse don't ask the salesman. Ask a stable-mechanic. They'll tell you which ones need repairs the least and that's the one you want."
"Wow. That's really boiling it down! It sounds right though now that I think about it." Zelle admitted.
"Simple can work Miss. Its what Solos do," Jessica said. "Let's head back to camp."
They dried and dressed quickly. It took Jessica a few more minutes to get her armor on but it had cooled and was dry inside now. Patrick took his turn at the creek as did Gareth Orvin. Patrick and Jessica ate meals from pouches. He showed her the trick of boiling water in a cup then dropping the pouch in it for five minutes to heat it. Ovrin heated up some food similar to that using a saucepan. After eating and cleaning up Zelle went over to the shelter by the wagon and laid down. She noticed Patrick and Jessica talk then Jessica jammed her sword into the ground and lean back against it. Patrick walked to the edge of the firelight and wander around. She looked over and saw that Jessica had fallen asleep. To see her sleep like that seemed very strange to her. Zelle assumed it was something unique to Solos and closed her own eyes. Sleep set upon her almost instantly.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 7 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Patrick wandered the camp. Everyone had drifted off to sleep. He stopped and braced a hand against a tree. He could feel prayers being made. The prayers were more powerful than before. The influx of power subsided to less than a trickle. As if now a slow drip. Patrick smiled to himself. It seemed the Malzeek family were turning out to be quite devoted. This was good.
"My Mistress," Daalumos called softly and revealed himself further down the path.
Patrick walked over, "what is it?"
The Lust informed, "Mortals. A group of them are approaching. They are fit for battle."
"This is not good. How many," Patrick asked.
"I counted ten. All are mounted and well armed. There is something strange about them. I felt a bit of Divinity," Daalumos said.
Patrick looked down the trail and explored it mentally. Sure enough. There was a trace of Divinity approaching slowly.
"Divinity is there but very weak. The grandchild of a Demi-God or some such. They must be weak or not very skilled to be traveling with a contingent. Especially along this route and at night," Patrick surmised.
Daalumos snorted, "we have only a few minutes before they gain sight of the fire. What do you command."
"Stay far back and suppress your influence. I will have to deal with this as a Mortal would. Go," Patrick instructed.
The BloodLust disappeared. Patrick went over and woke Jessica.
"Wake up. We have a problem," Patrick said quietly.
Jessica woke up, resisting the urge to stretch but grabbed her battle sword.
The shifting around had alerted Orvin, as he slept lightly.
"Is something wrong," Gareth asked in a low voice.
Patrick nodded, "riders. Small group. I can already see their outlines in the distance. They're a small group, traveling at night down this route. We have only a few more minutes. Orvin go back as you were. Pretend to sleep. I'm going to try the 'we're not here and neither are you' attitude. If not then Mulhanten and I will fight and you two escape behind us. We'll find you later, just stay together. Let's go."
Orvin went back to the wagon and grabbed a small bag then laid down. Jessica, under Patrick's instruction moved Mars further into the campsite. Daemon was moved as well. The two robotic horses were now blocking some of the light from the campfire. More importantly they were a visual reference as a point not to be crossed. Jessica took the position Patrick indicated and stood casually, sword in hand. Patrick took position back from the trail the same way. He would be the first contact, if any.
Soon they heard the soft sounds of several horses walking quietly toward them along with a dragging sound. The group slowed more as two lead riders approached. They stopped their mounts at the opening onto the trail and drew their swords. Patrick could see they were looking over the camp.
In a low voice Patrick addressed them, "we're not here. Neither are you. My contract ends at the trail."
Anyone that had ever dealt with Solos would understand the implied meaning. If they did not engage, Patrick would not. The two knights nodded to each other then one waved to the group to continue on. Quietly the group of eight walked past. Three riders rode at the back side by side and dragging some branches, scrubbing their prints from the trail. The one in the center was a girl dressed in male armor. Patrick could tell by the shifting in the saddle as she rode. Patrick nodded for the two to move on. When the sounds of the horses faded from their hearing Jessica relaxed. Patrick turned away finally and Jessica sighed in relief.
Orvin got up and joined them.
"They just passed us by," he asked.
Patrick nodded, "They have the same interest we do. Passing unnoticed. Our focus is you and your wagon. Their focus was the rider in the middle. They won't be back. You can return to sleep Orvin."
Gareth nodded, "well that battle was won by my account Solo Fotens. I'll add a day's battle wages."
Patrick and Jessica watched him go back over to the wagon and lay down. Apparently everything had been quiet enough not to wake Zelle. Quickly they re-positioned their horses.
Jessica walked over to Patrick and asked quietly, "The rider in the middle was their charge? Looked like a girl in boys' armor to me. I could see by the way she was riding. She wasn't comfortable. The armor wasn't the right size."
"You're learning again. You're correct. So a girl disguised as a boy in armor that didn't fit traveling in secret. What could it mean," Patrick asked.
"Possible fiance. Possible ransom return. Possible Emissary," Jessica listed immediately then said quickly. "Or possibly escape. An exile."
Patrick nodded, "those are all very likely possibilities. You only forgot one."
Jessica thought but drew a blank and shook her head.
"Possible temple maiden. Training to become a priestess. One selected to undertake that would travel in such a fashion," Patrick informed her.
Jessica smacked her head, "that was dumb. I should have thought of that."
Patrick shook his head, "You've never known that situation. Actually I've ridden escort for one. She was joining the sisterhood of Diana."
"So by saying that the contract ended at the trail that was the signal that they were not a concern unless they made themselves one. You knew from what they were doing and how they looked that they did not want to engage unless they had to. We do not want to engage unless we have to. Solos use implication and innuendo to convey their message. You said we weren't here and neither were they.We would ignore them if they ignored us. Right," Jessica asked.
Patrick nodded, "correct."
"Ok so conflict was avoided. Wait. UNNECESSARY conflict was avoided. The job was done without endangering the client and that's what matters. The terms of the contract were upheld," Jessica said.
"Again; correct. Anyone else would have provoked them into a fight. So yes, by using the implication that we are Solos under a specific contract, they ignored us. The only reason the two riders stayed was to ensure we did as we said we would. Better to have the certain pay of escort than risk everything for a battle pay and bonus. Because Orvin was awake the whole time and knew what was happening he is adding the battle pay anyway. The girl slept through the whole thing. She is none the wiser and it is best that way," Patrick explained.
Jessica nodded, "yes. You're right. Nothing would be gained by frightening her. Better that she not know."
Patrick nodded, "exactly. Get some more sleep. I'll wake you up in a while to take watch for me."
Jessica nodded and went back her previous spot, jammed the sword down and settled back against it. She had no idea that she fell asleep almost instantly. Patrick could feel Daalumos' presence as he moved off to circle around in a patrol. Patrick leaned back against Daemon and dozed for about two hours. It wasn't real sleep but would serve well enough. He eased back into wakefulness and went over to Jessica and nudged her. Jessica startled then looked up and nodded. She stood and took her sword.
"It should be dawn in about two or three hours. Wake me when you first see it," Patrick said.
Jessica nodded to him, "right."
She watched him jam his own sword into the ground and settle back against it. Jessica added some wood to the fire and wandered around. She occasionally sipped from her canteen. For the most part she paced back and forth to watch the trail.
Jessica reached into her saddlebag and took out her tablet and began to write.
"I need to do this while its all still fresh," Jessica said occasionally glancing up to look down the trail.
For almost three hours she made her notes until she noticed the sky staining with a gold tinge. Jessica finished her note and put the tablet away then woke Patrick. She was stunned at how quickly he was on the move. Quickly he checked over the camp then explained that he was checking for traces of their presence and disposed of it. Orvin was awakened followed by Zelle. Breakfast was prepared and eaten. Patrick handed Jessica a meal bar. Half an hour later Patrick was covering the campfire with the dirt he had dug out for the small pit. Jessica directed the wagon onto the trail after Zelle and Orvin climbed on then moved opposite Patrick to ensure all traces where gone. They even used leafy branches to wipe away the tracks.
"Why did they do that," Zelle asked.
Orvin smiled, "why don't you ask?"
Zelle called over, "excuse me. Why did you do all of that? Is it that important to look like we weren't there?"
Patrick walked over and nodded, "it is Miss. By maintaining the appearance that the trail is used only by the local farmers we can use it again. If we left obvious traces then word would get around about it being used. If word does get around, bandits will start working it and we'd be no safer than using the main roads. Your uncle and his goods would be at risk."
"Oh. I see the sense of it now. Thank you for explaining and I hope you weren't offended by my questioning," Zelle offered.
Patrick shook his head, "no offense taken Miss. You've never been exposed to Solos before. My apprentice is still learning as well. Solos prefer to be traced and tracked by one method. Our records. Holding to the terms of the contracts. Good Solos are only known for the jobs they've done. Bad Solos are known for everything they do."
Jessica interjected, "altercations that are not contracted, disturbing locals, signs of obvious passage. All of those things are bad. It gets attention that has nothing to do with contract terms. The goal of a Solo is to only be known when a job comes up. Otherwise to go unnoticed. Should a Solo be noticed then the reputation of adhering to the terms should apply. A job done is that your journey is completed. A job well done is your journey completed safely with measure of reasonable comfort for your uncle and yourself, Miss. Anything else would be unprofessional."
"So only the terms of a contract are important. How you feel about something doesn't make a difference," Zelle asked.
Patrick and Jessica were mounting their horse. Patrick gave her a subtle nod to answer.
Jessica answered, "correct Miss. The moment it becomes personal that's when a Solo is no longer a Solo. That's why we have no homes or countries. No politics. Only the terms of the contract. That may seem cold Miss, but its the Solos' way. Nothing is ever personal."
"We should get moving. We can make it by nightfall," Patrick stated.
Orvin nodded and urged the horse forward. Patrick and Jessica took the lead.
They were ahead enough for Jessica to speak comfortably and ask, "Solos fight battles and serve as escorts. What else do Solos do?"
Patrick looked over then nodded, "even more than that. Some regiments and battalions specialize. One example is the Sixth Battalion of Freebooters. They specialize in rescue. Say you were kidnapped during transit by bandits, the Sixth Freebooters could be contracted to bring you home from their stronghold. The Fifth Regiment of FreeLancers could rescue you if still in transit. The Tenth Regiment and Battalion work together. They can provide temporary law services if there is no Marshal for a city or village."
"Really? That's something I would never know isn't it," Jessica asked.
"The Fourth Regiment and Battalion work together too. Mainly they are investigators," Patrick informed her.
Jessica thought about it, "They investigate battle sites?"
Patrick shook his head, "they'll investigate anything. Battles, crimes, troop movements; you name it. When you want to know what is or had happened, they're the go-to Solos."
"So the lower the number," Jessica speculated.
Patrick shook his head again, "not necessarily. One through Ten yes. But its not so easy to join them. You have to have a very good record. Eleven through Twenty-Two work entertainers until they hire their own personal protection. Again, you have to have a solid record. People think the lower number the more illustrious or better the unit is. That's not true. The HIGHER the number the more strict they are. Higher numbers haven't been around as long to attract the less disciplined. In short, if you want true hardcore Solos; go for the higher numbered units. They are made up of the ones that are fed up with low standard inductees."
Jessica understood, "so higher number units are more sought after because of their reputation."
"That's right. I don't have to look for work. Jobs come to me, because I'm the last. I'm the reason the Eighty-Sixth still is listed," Patrick stated.
Jessica nodded, "I get it now."
Patrick glanced over, "the only problem is making sure you stay off the roster. Otherwise life will get complicated. Female Solos get a lot of attention. Good female Solos are watched. Good female Solos that are attractive, well I think you get the idea now."
Jessica blinked then full comprehension hit her. Liaisons. Patrick was highly skilled, even though still in the Academy and he was definitely attractive. Those qualities would make him sought after. If word got out about her, there would be a demand. Her Academy record was good for a student of her year. The Tournament results would affect that as well. If she were a Solo then all of that together would definitely garner attention she didn't want.
"I want to ride ahead for a few minutes," Jessica said then did when Patrick nodded.
Jessica looked around then took out her tablet and made notes of the newest things she learned then put it away and checked around again. She waited for them to catch up then made a round of the wagon. At midday they stopped for lunch. Jessica made sure Zelle had time and privacy to attend her own matters. They were only stopped for half an hour then back on the trail again. Unfortunately the trail joined back up to a road. Soon after that Daalumos spoke to Patrick only.
"My Mistress. Mortals are ahead in concealment lying in wait," The demon informed him.
Patrick responded so that only the demon could hear, "how many?"
Daalumos laughed, "only six Mistress and they looked rather ragged."
Patrick looked over to Jessica, "remember; we are on a road now. Not a trail. Be wary. There's no trail we can divert onto to reach our destination. Anything can happen now."
Jessica nodded and tightened her grasp on her lance. She also saw him reach back and take up his shield so did the same.
"Up ahead. I saw something in the brush. Act casual. Hang back and you can have any that get past me," Patrick said in a low voice. "Daemon. Battle."
Jessica said in a low voice, "Mars. Battle."
Both horses were now set into battle mode. They would be controlled using feet and knees instead of the reins. Patrick urged his mount forward to give space between them. Only Daalumos could hear him now.
"I feel fear from them. Daalumos, if any of them get past me feed her enough to keep them off her. Only feed her," Patrick instructed.
The Lust chuckled, "oh this should be amusing!"
Patrick gained the brush-line and slowed Daemon. He could feel anger and fear coming from both sides. Patrick knew he had to be careful and only take in the fear without stoking it. If the fear circulated then the facade of Patrick Fotens could be compromised and have to be discarded for the true form of Phoebe. Suddenly six men burst from the undergrowth. Patrick thrust his lance forward. Three charged him and the other three ran towards Jessica. The man on the right's spear wasn't as long as the lance and shrieked in pain as the lance tip melted into his chest. Patrick let go of the lance and pulled his combat sword. Each man held a sword in his left hand and spear in the right. Two attacked him and three ran at Jessica.
Jessica heard a whisper in her ear.
"They are coming. They want you. They want the girl. They'll have you both if you fail Jessica. As much as you hate HIM, for them to do THOSE things to you would be so much worse. They would do it to the girl too and make you watch them."
Rage welled up within the Princess and she snapped her visor down with a snarl then charged forward.
Patrick used his shield to block the spears. From the pressure commands Daemon spun to the left as Patrick shoved the spears aside and swung the sword to take off their tips as well. He clenched his legs tight and tapped with his toes, Daemon kicked out his back legs. The man behind was thrown back from the kick. Patrick slashed downward, clashing with the swords now shifting hands.
Jessica yelled in fury as she used her legs and feet to make Mars lunge forward. She aimed the lance at the man on the far right and drove it through his chest, high of center. She let go of the lance and gave Mars another command. The robotic horse reared up to paw at the attacker in the middle. The other thrust his spear at her but only struck her shield. She shoved away at the spear on her left as Mars trampled the man in front. Jessica wheeled him left and swung her sword knocking the spear from the left side man. Mars continued to turn around and she slashed again. From her commands Mars pranced sideways to keep crowding the man now on her right as she swung the sword again. The tip sliced down the side of his face and he screamed. Jessica made Mars surge out from between them and circle around to charge at the remaining attacker. His sword ended up slamming into Mars' neck and merely clanged. Jessica thrust her sword forward, having to lean forward in her sadle to follow through. Her move was rewarded with a bellow of pain. The sword was pulled free and Jessica made Mars trample him down then circle back for the last man.
Patrick had managed to get one of his attackers to turn in confusion and he slashed high across his back making him go down. The last man now realized he was alone and bolted back into the underbrush. Patrick dismounted and checked the two bodies. Both were dead. He pulled his lance free and leaned it against Daemon then began dragging the bodies to the side of the road. Jessica saw and did the same. She was calming down but to be so angry like that was foreign to her.
"I am Jessica Weyden. I am the crowned Princess of Lurbourg," Jessica whispered to herself in effort to calm herself down even more. "I will own my anger, my anger will NOT own me!"
Slowly the rage subsided. She now felt as if the skirmish had lasted for hours instead of only mere minutes. After a drink from her canteen she cleaned her sword and lance then re-mounted as Patrick approached.
"You didn't seem to have any problems or call out," Patrick remarked.
Jessica nodded, "I'm fine. No problems. Just a little tired."
"It was real combat. It's much different from training," Patrick informed her. "Its done now. We move on and get paid. Its just the job."
Jessica nodded, "uphold the contract. Nothing is personal."
Patrick and Jessica rode back to the wagon. Gareth had his arm around Zelle.
"We're ready to move on Orvin," Patrick stated.
Jessica spoke up, "Miss. Everything is fine now. They never got past us. You both are safe."
Patrick nodded, "We did our job. We can't linger though, we need to move on. Just breathe slow and easy. You'll be fine. Let's go Orvin."
"Right," Gareth said and urged the draft horse to continue.
They rode on, but at a faster pace. The sun was starting to set when they reached the city border. A group of guards stood by the side of the road.
"Solo of the Eighty-Sixth FreeLancers with apprentice, merchant escort," Patrick stated.
Two of the soldiers stepped back to inspect the wagon.
Orvin spoke up, "Gareth Orvin. I'm expected."
The leader had been looking at his tablet and looked up, "Orvin; Gareth? Yes Sir. Proceed."
The wagon moved on, as did Patrick and Jessica. They fell in behind the wagon since he knew exactly where they were going in the city. They made their way through until a large mansion came into sight. Orvin headed directly for it. The gate was open and he led them inside the grounds to stop in front of covered front entrance. A young man came out as did an older couple. Orvin was helping Zelle down.
"Welcome! Thank you Gareth. You must be the Solos," The woman stated.
"Thank you very much for safeguarding Shazelle," the young man said after kissing her.
The older man held up his hand, "please forgive our small ruse Solo Fotens. I knew your former Commander well. I asked for you by name. Baron Larkiel, I'm the actual contractor. I'll of course revise the contract to reflect the true nature of the assignment, along with the appropriate bonuses."
Patrick looked over at Jessica and nodded. Jessica took off her helmet.
"I've heard of such doings," Jessica said.
The older woman rushed up and whispered into his ear looking very alarmed. His eyes almost popped out of his head.
"Princess Jessica Weyden? Of Lurbourg? She can't be," the Baron said then recognized her. "By the Goddess, you are!"
All four quickly acknowledged her with a bow or curtsy. Even Gareth Orvin jumped from the wagon to do so.
"Weyden is posing as my apprentice as a supplement to her education," Patrick informed them.
"Please accept our hospitality for the night! Solo Fotens. Princess Jessica. Be our guests," The Baroness exclaimed.
Jessica looked over to Patrick, "its up to you."
"Very well. We have to leave early in the morning. The Academy expects us back tomorrow evening," Patrick stated.
"Right this way," the Baron said then showed them to the stables for their horses.
Patrick and Jessica stabled their horses then collected they travel bags and followed him inside to be shown to rooms for the night. Jessica nodded to the maid waiting for her in the room. Quickly she was relieved of her armor and shown the bath. She wanted to giggle to herself as the maid quickly helped her bathe and cared for her hair. By the time Jessica was done applying her make-up and styling her hair in a simple fashion, a gown and shoes waited for her. She had just finished dressing when a knock came from the door, answered by the maid.
"Your Highness. Solo Fotens is waiting for you in the hall," the maid announced.
Jessica went out and met him. Patrick was in his Eighty-Sixth uniform, which looked freshly laundered.
"Ready Weyden," Patrick asked.
Boldly she slipped her hand into his arm, "yes."
Patrick arched an eyebrow, "out of character for you."
Jessica sighed then faced him, "Solo Fotens. Patrick, if I may. I was wrong before. I believed false statements. The blame lies with me for the way I regarded you and all Solos. I did not know all of the facts. I want to make amends for that. You have my most sincere apologies and the assurance that I will never do so again. I know that Solos do not have friends exactly. Would it be acceptable for me to say that you are someone trustworthy of any assignment? My first choice if ever I needed a professional. No, not my first choice. My only choice, for a professional."
"Quite the turn-around," Patrick commented.
"I was foolish. Self-absorbed. Very very wrong. I'm not speaking out of pride or family honor. Not even personal honor. What I did was wrong. I ask forgiveness. If I must pay for it, I will. Name the price you want," Jessica said firmly.
"We will face each other again. I want nothing less than your best. Should we face each other at Tournament the same will apply. You can not ask me for forgiveness. We faced each other on the field and I won. The only forgiveness you have any right to ask is from your parents. All that is left are the terms of the contract," Patrick stated.
Jessica sighed, "that's all I can get. Still, I was wrong for what I did. With all my heart I apologize to for the way I treated you. I will abide by the terms."
Patrick nodded, "let's not keep our hosts waiting."
Jessica slip her hand back onto Patrick's arm and followed him to the dining room.
"Ah there you both are. Please join us," The Baroness welcomed them again noting their entrance.
Jessica nodded to her, "well I am in Solo Fotens' charge. Any opportunity to learn something, I won't waste. I do have so much to learn still."
Shazelle came forward and curtsied, "Highness. I can't imagine what you have left to learn, I was completely fooled by your disguise. I'm so very glad that I was in your care."
Jessica took her hands and smiled, "you're a very nice young lady. Hang on to that."
The Baron entered, "pardon my tardiness. Please be comfortable. Highness please take my seat. Solo Fotens, right here if you would."
The Baron had indicated Jessica sit at the head of the table with Patrick in the first seat to her right then sat opposite him after seating the Baroness. The butler came in, leading the dining staff to serve the dinner. The conversation was light, as three of the diners were more interested in eating than talking. After dinner the Baron asked Patrick to join him in the study. The Baroness asked Jessica if she would like to join her, but she declined stating that she would accompany Patrick and the Baron.
Larkiel closed the door after they came in.
"Please be seated," he gestured to a group of chairs.
Jessica sat down as did Patrick, Larkiel sat opposite them and brought out his tablet.
"Again, my apology for the ruse Solo Fotens, though I must admit your ruse was better than mine," Larkiel confided.
Patrick took out his battle ledger, "business Larkiel. Three days of escort for a noble. Two days battle wages with victory bonuses for both. For each day of deception a penalty of half that will be imposed. These rates are for one Solo and one Apprentice. Plus expenses."
Baron Larkiel nodded, "of course."
A total was reached then approved and the contract re-written and sent back to Patrick's ledger after being signed. The Baron counted out the coins in front of them then bagged them.
He passed the bag over, "There we are. Does this settle the account and conclude the contract?"
"It does," Patrick nodded. "We'll be leaving at sunrise."
"Thank you for the hospitality Baron," Jessica added.
"Consider it an apology to you both. I hope you understand," Larkiel said.
Patrick stood up, "Good evening Larkiel."
Jessica and Patrick went out. He guided her into the garden and they walked.
"When he made the statement 'he hoped we understood' there was no reply to give. The account had been settled as per the revised contract. Anything other than disregard to the statement would have implied personal involvement. You thanked him for the hospitality. That is acceptable but not expected. Normally the invitation would not be accepted. We get paid and immediately move on," Patrick informed her.
Jessica thought about that then asked, "why did you accept the invitation? I had said it was up to you, which it was because I am still in your charge."
Patrick stopped, "for your benefit. You already know how Solos deal with the general public now. You needed to learn how Solos deal with people of standing. Noble or royal are regarded in the same manner. Hospitality was extended mostly for your benefit. Larkiel knows he had to make up for tricking us, normally that would have simply been everything that happened in study. Staying overnight and all that is for you. Had you not been who you are he wouldn't have felt guilty for doing it. He feels guilty for tricking a royal, something a noble isn't supposed to do. He had a reason to trick a Solo and was willing to pay the penalty for doing so. Tricking a royal learning how Solos work wasn't part of the equation."
"I would like to say that everyone should be honest all the time, but I'm guilty too. I guess only the Gods and Goddesses are truthful all the time," Jessica commented.
Patrick started laughing. Jessica looked at him in confusion as he laughed even harder. For several minutes he laughed and she was starting to think he was laughing directly at her.
"And just WHAT is so funny," she asked, annoyed.
Patrick coughed from laughing, "you think Gods and Goddesses are always truthful! That's very funny!"
Jessica looked shocked, "what do you mean? They aren't?"
Patrick looked at her finally, "The Gods and the Goddesses can be relied on to do one thing at all times. Serve themselves!"
"But they reward prayers! They've even been known to take mortal wives or husbands," Jessica protested.
Patrick chuckled, "they've also been known to seduce and rape. For every ten thousand prayers, only one will be answered. Answered for the express purpose of ensuring continued faith and worship. They've been known to also take part in mortal battles, mostly out of boredom. They watch and place wagers on the outcome. I pray to none. Owe none. Commanded by none. I serve only myself. That is something they and I understand."
Jessica was shocked but thought it was now or never, "why did you take my mother's contract?"
"Only the incredibly stupid would refuse. If I wanted to I would not have to work for at least ten years. The question you should be asking is, why you and not herself? Only one person can answer that," Patrick stated. "Ask her."
Jessica suddenly felt small and alone, "h-have you ever? Before?"
Patrick shook his head, "no."
"I'm afraid," Jessica confessed.
"I'm sure you are. I can not help you Weyden. There is no reason why I can not fulfill the terms. You are still under your parents. They see no reason why the terms can not be fulfilled. Any objection you have, must be made to them. I suggest you retire for the night. Tomorrow will be here soon enough. Tomorrow things will be like the first day. I will be protecting you more than teaching. Good night Weyden," Patrick said.
Jessica slowly walked away and went inside.
"That was in an interesting conversation," Daalumos remarked from inside a shadow.
Patrick turned, "don't you mean that it was amusing?"
The Lust chuckled, "oh it was. I meant your side. It was almost as if you were pitying the Mortal. Still I wonder why you choose to continue this nonsense."
"How long have we been here," Patrick asked.
Daalumos replied, "almost ten mortal years."
"Seven years before taking this facade. Two years with the Solos and eight months at the Academy. I learned next to nothing in those first seven years. I have learned more in the eight months at the Academy than I did the two years with the Solos. There is still more to learn," Patrick stated.
The bound demon snorted, "as you wish my Mistress."
Patrick went inside to the room he'd been given and went to sleep so after.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 8 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Patrick woke and stood up. A moment later there was a knock followed by a maid entering.
"Pardon me Sir. I came to wake you. I see you're awake already. May I help you with anything," the maid asked.
Patrick shook his head, "nothing for me. Wake up Weyden. Were you given any other instructions?"
The maid nodded, "yes Sir. The cook is already awake and ready for whatever you wish for breakfast."
"Breakfast steak, thick, three eggs, fried potatoes for myself. Prepare the same for Weyden but only by half. Oh and toast or biscuits," Patrick listed. "We'll eat in the kitchen."
"Sir, the Baron is joining your breakfast. You'll have to be served in the dining room," The maid informed him.
Patrick merely grunted and waved her off. The maid rushed to Jessica's room and woke her then offered to help her get ready. She was very surprised when Jessica told her make-up and hair-styling wouldn't be needed and began to get ready for armor. The maid helped her install each piece.
"You assist often," Jessica asked.
The maid shook her head, "No your Highness. I apologize if I am doing something wrong."
Jessica smiled to her, "not wrong. Just a little slow. Speed comes from repetition though. I've gotten used to doing for myself now. Solos don't have anybody to do for them so I had to learn myself. I was rather spoiled."
While Jessica buckled on the sword belt and combat sword the maid ensured all her things were packed away, including the dress and shoes she had been given. Jessica followed her downstairs to join Patrick and the Baron at the table.
"Your Highness, good morning. Right here if you would," The Baron stood and seated Jessica at the head of the table.
Jessica sat, "thank you Baron Larkiel."
The plates of food were brought in.
Larkiel noticed and asked, "I'm rather curious as to why you're having that?"
Patrick looked up, "It lasts longer and doesn't slow us down later."
The Baron, to his credit, was very quick on the uptake to realize the implied meaning. It meant they would be less likely to have to stop to relieve themselves by eating those particular foodstuffs. Also that it would be with them longer, meaning they would not have to eat on the go until much later.
"I understand. Highness, I envy you the knowledge you are receiving. I confess I never had this kind of close interaction with Solos before. I find it very enlightening. I count myself lucky to have have needed the services of Solos only a few times. You see I went to the Academy with Solo Fotens former Commander. He was impressive back then. The consummate professional. I only hired him and those that served under him. That is why I hired Solos Fotens. I knew the results I would be paying for. Money well spent. I'm even more glad that I continued to do so. Professional of the caliber to be educating a Princess in the ways of the Solos is quite the feature for a ledger," Larkiel stated.
Jessica sipped her juice, "That's a bold statement."
Larkiel shook his head, "its a FACTUAL statement Highness. When results matter most, it is best to bring in Solos. I can understand why you are under Solo Fotens charge. Had I a child still at the Academy, I would consider it myself. It will serve you well to learn as much as you can from Solo Fotens. Many make mistakes when they hire Solos, especially the first time. You will have knowledge others will not that will keep from committing offense. Far better to pay a little more to ensure you are getting exactly what you seek than to pay penalties for making mistakes and quite possibly not getting anything at all."
Jessica felt the temptation to comment about tricking a Solo into providing a higher value service at a lower initial agreement. She almost did then remembered Patrick's instructions of not running her mouth off.
"I'll remember that," Jessica said.
They finished eating and left the table. The butler met them in the hall.
"My Lord; their horses are ready and waiting," the butler informed him.
"Thank you," Larkiel replied and led them outside.
A stable-hand stood ready by Jessica's horse. He bowed to her then assisted her to mount Mars. When she settled into her saddle he handed her the lance as well.
"Highness I noticed your lance was damaged. I replaced it. Sir I checked your lance. It only needed recharging. Both horses were cleaned and recharged to Full," the stable-hand informed him.
"Good," Patrick replied. "How much for the lance?"
Baron Larkiel shook his head, "count it as an expense. It was a lance from the Academy wasn't it?"
Jessica nodded, "it was."
"I'm sure they'd rather a new one than a damaged one. If they have any questions please have them contact me directly," the Baron instructed.
"Thank you," Jessica said then turned to Patrick. "All set."
Patrick nodded to the Baron, "Larkiel."
"Good journey to you both," the Baron replied.
With that the two rode out. Outside the gate of the grounds Patrick sped them up to a light gallop. When they reached the edge of town Jessica was confused when he directed them off the roadway and across open fields at a hard gallop.
"We won't make back in time unless we cut across country. It will be rougher but faster. Without the wagon following we can do it," Patrick told her.
Jessica answered back, "you know best. I'm right behind you."
For hours they rode. Passing down game trails and racing across natural meadows. Every now and then they passed over roads. Once a small village had been in view but Patrick ignored it and rode on with Jessica following directly behind. At midday they slowed to a walk.
"THAT was a hard ride," Jessica commented, glad to slow down.
Patrick stopped and dismounted, "we need to walk for a while."
Jessica did the same and walked beside him, "do we have the time?"
Patrick reached into his saddlebag and brought out a map and held it up as they walked.
"We started here. The Academy is here. With the exception of these two rivers, its a straight ride. Now that looks like half a day but its not. Its a full day. We left before sunrise so we'll get back before or just at sunset unless something happens," Patrick informed her.
Jessica looked at the map in wonder, "this is so detailed!"
"Only Solos carry maps like this. They're made by the Fourth Battalion FreeBooters. Its a really big battalion. Most have four or five companies. The Fourth has ten. Four of which are tasked specifically for map making. They create the maps and sell them. Only Solos can buy them," Patrick said.
Jessica looked disappointed for a moment then realized she needed to set it aside. Now that they were going slow, it was a good time to learn.
"Fourth Regiment and Battalion are investigators. Let's say I forget who specializes in what; how do I find out again," Jessica asked.
Patrick put the map away, "any village of a considerable size will have a registry. Big or small depends on the size of the place. You can go there and ask for listings for a fee. Once per month the listings are updated. The list states the units, size and what they do. You can ask the registrar to short-list for you for another processing fee. Most units check in with offices as they travel. When you get the short list you can have it any way you want. They'll list those units by size, price, location; whatever your priority is."
Jessica thought about that but wanted to revisit something else, "ok Baron Larkiel made some comments at the table this morning. He acts like the whole matter of tricking you meant nothing."
"He paid the fees so it doesn't anymore. Once the right total was paid the account was settled and the contract was closed. End of story," Patrick replied.
Jessica frowned, "but you were hired under false pretenses!"
Patrick stopped and sighed, "people lie Weyden. Its not the first time and won't be the last. Everybody wants something and they'll do what it takes to get it or keep it. Some lies are small, some are big. The thing is, what do you do when you've been caught in that lie. Larkiel admitted to the lie right when the job was done. He didn't have to. To him, it was justifiable. The only guilt he felt was that you were involved. However he did confess instead of being caught so he's off the hook. He made the account right, so it doesn't go against him for the record."
"Still though," Jessica muttered.
"Everybody lies about something sometime. Doesn't matter what or why to me. They think they have a reason and I don't care. I generally know when and sometimes I can even figure out what the lie is. The main point is; they always pay for lying to me. I've yet to encounter a lie that can't be settled. Everything has a price Weyden. What you are willing to pay is the question," Patrick said.
For half an hour they talked while they walked then remounted and continued on at the same speed.
Fiona Doucet sat quietly watching the training going on down in the arena. Few knew she was there. The ones that knew where she was sitting was even fewer. She liked her secret viewing spot. Down below the third years were training.
"Dante looks to be recovered," a voice said beside her.
"Hello your Highness," Fiona smiled.
Prince Vaan Arento sat down beside her, "our fickle Fiona. You know you're quite welcome to call me by name only."
Fiona continued to smile, "I know Vaan. So how many girls have you made to blush and how many boys have you terrorized today?"
"Not nearly enough," the flamboyant Prince chuckled. "Oh its a good thing that was a target. Dante would have took a real person out of their saddle with that strike."
Fiona nodded, "textbook form. That's his problem. I pity him day after tomorrow."
Vaan sighed, "ah yes. His rematch with the delicious Patrick Fotens, Solo Extraordinaire! It will be a pitiful sight, but I'll be watching as well."
"He has you THAT worried," Fiona asked with a sly giggle.
Vaan laughed, "oh my wonderful best friend; I would have to be the fool everyone is convinced I am to not be worried. His strength alone is cause enough for concern. Add in his skill and it grows to worry. If his record became common knowledge then many of our underclass would wet themselves in fright to see him opposing them!"
Fiona nodded, "some of the upper-class as well."
"Indeed. I do wonder what tricks your would-be suitor has in store. I'm sure this year will take a dramatic turn for the nasty," Vaan remarked.
"What is his bounty on you," Fiona asked.
Vaan chuckled, "nothing escapes you. Two hundred coins to unhorse me three lances. Six hundred to claim my helmet. I heard one young man say that he was going to challenge you for your panties. Another simply wants a kiss if he can stay on his horse against you."
"Amusing and sweet. Nice combination. I'll probably give the kiss regardless. Its not me I'm worried about," Fiona admitted.
This got the Prince interested, "OH? Fiona what juicy gossip have you this time?"
Fiona checked to make sure no one was around then whispered, "If Patrick Fotens places higher than Jessica Weyden then she will be having a liaison with him after graduation. If he wins she'll be pulled from the Academy for it to be immediately. Queen Lellaa herself negotiated the contract."
"OH MY! And Jessica knows? Where is she by the way," Vaan asked concerned.
Fiona nodded, "she knows. Um, she accompanied him on an assignment. As his apprentice. They're due back this evening."
Vaan sat and listened as Fiona explained the whole situation. Finally he sighed.
"Rather underhanded for her Majesty. I've no doubt it will be effective though. Jessica will be slapped out of her mindset. I believe she will change for the better and be able to buy out of the contract. However she is more than likely too upset over the whole thing to ask about that of Fotens. I'm sad that neither of us can do anything to help her. Only she can do for herself. Its time she did put away childish things," Vaan remarked then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Just take care not to take your frustration out on me."
Fiona laughed, "I'll be fair. I'll win but I'll be fair to you Vaan. You're my only friend after all."
"Oh. I just remembered. There's a lottery going on among the first and second years to be your squires," Vaan chuckled.
Fiona laughed again, "what about you?"
Vaan smiled devilishly, "I found a lovely set of twins."
The Countess shook her head giggling, "you're absolutely shameless Vaan."
Prince Vaan Arento winked and left.
Down on the ground someone edged back in the tunnel and left. The young man rushed over to the High Nobles' lounge and went in. In the far corner by a bookcase sat a young man. He wore white riding pants and shirt with a red velvet jacket trimmed in gold.
"So. What's going on out there Eaton," He asked.
Eaton Laanower replied, "Dante is looking strong but he's still stupid. You won't have anything to worry about with him Jeffries."
Jeffries Talfar casually turned the page of the book he was reading, "did Fiona see you?"
The young Lord shook his head, "she wasn't there. I didn't see her."
The future Duke of Bergitan smirked, "Fiona was there. She has a very good hiding place to watch from. What else did you see?"
"Not much of anything. I did see a woman dressed like a royal talking to Sir Belvin," Eaton commented.
Talfar nodded, "Lellaa Weyden. The Queen of Lurbourg. Was Jessica training?"
Eaton leaned against another chair, "no. She wasn't there at all. In fact nobody has seen her for a few days."
"She must be still humiliated after losing her family sword," Talfar chuckled.
"Its not lost. That Queen has it. I saw her wearing it down there," Eaton informed him.
Talfar finally looked up, "What?"
Eaton nodded, "That Queen has the sword."
Jeffries Talfar looked confused, "how can that be? The sword was part of the penalty if Jessica lost to that Solo bastard Fotens. The sword and a hundred coins. How can her mother have it?"
"If anybody knows, they aren't saying. Maybe he sold it back," Eaton Laanower proposed.
"Solos don't ransom. Find out. What was he doing down there," Talfar asked.
Eaton shrugged, "he wasn't there either. He's on assignment."
Talfar waved him to go.
It was late afternoon when one of the towns close to the Academy came into view.
"Is that what I think it is," Jessica called out.
"Pendona," Patrick answered. "Ten minutes."
Jessica felt elated, "and the Academy five minutes after!"
"If we hold the pace Weyden. Can you handle it," Patrick asked.
"DEFINITELY," Jessica laughed.
They held the hard pace and only slowed when they could see the gate of the Academy. The two rode in and stopped at the stables. A stable-hand ran out and greeted them as Jessica dismounted.
Patrick however rode his horse after signaling she should follow him. They checked in with the office. Jessica was confirmed to be back then Patrick signed back in.
"So what now," Jessica asked.
Patrick pushed the clipboard back, "whatever it is that you do. The assignment is over. I am no longer in charge of you Weyden."
He turned to the secretary, "I'll be back in the morning to resume courses."
"Certainly Solo Fotens. Have a good evening," She replied.
Jessica nodded to him, "Solo Fotens. Oh, before you go. Do both towns have a registry?"
Patrick nodded, "yes and both close in three hours."
"Thank you," Jessica said and rushed off.
Patrick left. He remounted Daemon and rode out. Twenty minutes later he stopped in front of the shack and began to take his things inside. Daemon was brought inside and shut down to save the battery. Patrick hide everything carefully, including the armor then went into the darkened room.
"Welcome back my Mistress," Daalumos said with a chuckle.
Phoebe padded forward on her bare feet, "I felt you leave us when the town came into view."
The Lust followed her to the bath and stood talking while she began to clean up, "there was no need for me to be there so I returned. No mortals have invaded our place."
After rinsing off Phoebe sighed as she settled into the deep bath, "tonight should be quiet. Tomorrow night we visit our little priestess."
"That should be interesting. If we are staying in then I am going to rest," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe nodded and waved the demon away. Thirty minutes later she sat on her throne and let herself drift off to sleep.
Jessica all but burst into her room and began quickly taking off the borrowed armor. It was more like she was flinging it off. In moments she was naked and jumping into her shower. Many long minutes later she came out toweling off and squealed in surprise.
"MOTHER! Oh Mother you almost gave me heart failure," Jessica complained.
Lellaa gestured to the discarded armor and clothing, "you seemed to be in quite the hurry."
Jessica nodded then began to brush her hair, "I have to hurry! The Solo Registry closes soon and there are some things I need to get."
"OH? Like what," the Queen asked.
Jessica was using a hair drier so had to speak louder, "I need to get the current listings. I have to submit a report about Solos, remember? I can't do a half measure!"
Lellaa knew that her daughter wouldn't be able to hear her so waited until she was finished. Quietly she sat while Jessica styled her hair in a simple fashion and applied basic make-up then dressed.
"My my. You certainly look bent on a mission," Lellaa remarked watching Jessica put on her clothes.
"I am Mother," Jessica replied then called down to the stable. "This is Princess Jessica Weyden. Has my horse charged enough to go into town and back? Excellent. Could you please saddle him for me and have him at the front entrance. My Ladies' saddle please. Thank you."
"Mine as well," Lellaa said quickly.
Jessica added, "Queen Weyden's horse as well. Thank you."
Lellaa switched her shoes to riding boots while Jessica put on her own then buckled on the plain sword. She wanted to chuckle to herself when she saw Jessica adjust the belt to sit similar to those favored by Solos.
"Hurry Mother! They'll close soon," Jessica urged.
Lellaa did her best and held back a laugh, "yes yes Jessica. I'm coming. There, I'm ready."
Quickly they went down to the front entrance, pausing for Jessica to sign out, then mounted their waiting horses. Two hours later they returned. Jessica held a clutch of papers and wore a new sword.
"Class. I'm suspending the normal lesson today. Princess Weyden has a special report and will be presenting it to the class," Dame Ayalla announced.
Everyone quieted and watched as Jessica left her seat and went to the front. The Headmaster and Queen Lellaa sat in the back. Outside the door Countess Fiona Doucet listened.
Jessica nodded to the teacher, "thank you Dame Ayalla. I've been absent the past few days for some very special lessons. I was under the tutelage of Solo Patrick Fotens. You see, for quite some time my view of Solos has been very inappropriate. I could put it a different way, but that would be wrong. I was wrong. My mother learned Solo Fotens was undertaking an assignment. She thought it would be educational for me to accompany him and learn the ways of Solos. My mother was right. In Solo Fotens charge I learned many things that are not taught here in the Academy. In short, I was posing as his apprentice. My instructions were fairly simply, though the task was not. Please indulge me as I present this report of my experiences."
The class, except Patrick, sat shocked to hear where she had been. They sat paying rapt attention as she held her paper and began to read.
"There are many that view Solos in a harsh light. Unfortunately there are many more that view Solos in an incorrect light. I was one of those. My view was that Solos were nothing more than thugs for hire. I was so very wrong. A Solo has only the terms of the contract. No home, no country, no allies, no friends, no politics and no ego. They are frequently heaped with insults and disrespect. I should know, as I did so myself and I am ashamed of myself for it," she had said all that without looking at her papers but began to now.
Jessica read, "Solos are able to provide a variety of services beyond supplementing fighting forces on the battlefield. They can be hired to escort persons of importance. Security for goods in transit. Some even provide information in the form of investigations. There are Solos that can maintain or even establish order in places that lack lawful authority. Specialized combat units are available as well. Solos are known for performing their service and when the assignment has concluded they collect their pay then leave. We all know this, but exactly what does that mean? Unlike sponsored armies, such as those of a kingdom or house; Solos only take their pay. They don't collect spoils or take prisoners for ransom and so forth. ONLY the pay that was establish PRIOR to the service they render."
She looked over to Patrick, who gave her a subtle nod that she was correct.
"To do otherwise would imply a personal involvement. A Solo does NOT take personal involvement. They do not engage in altercations outside a contract's terms. We; as Royals, Nobles and Gentry, have attachments to houses and kingdoms. What we do reflects upon those we represent. We take offense when slighted, or perceive to be slighted. Solos do not. The only offenses you can commit against Solos are those of business, to which penalties will apply," Jessica explained.
For twenty minutes she went on about specialized and general services that could be provided by Solos along with the benefits of doing so. She also included some of the more common infractions made against Solos and the penalties associated. Some students gasped when she revealed to them how she had been able to go on the assignment and the measures she took to conceal her identity. Queen Lellaa noted the number of people that had ended up taking notes of Jessica's lecture. She also had the distinct feeling that several times Jessica went 'off-script' to add insight that she had overlooked when writing the report.
"So you see; at the end of the day there is nothing personal. Only the terms of the contract. I had no understanding of that prior. Please understand that my previous views of Solos had been influenced negatively. I have since changed that perspective. Under professional tutelage I have been corrected and hope that my understanding improves more. The way of Solos is not what we think it is. Its never simple. I would not be up to the challenge of living as a Solo," Jessica concluded and placed the papers on Dame Ayalla's lectern.
Jessica was about to go back to her seat but stopped and frowned then regarded the class, "my classmates. Previously I disrupted the class. What I did was unacceptable, not just as a Princess, but more importantly as a STUDENT. The class paid for my indiscretion by having rushed lessons to make up for a day missed. I sincerely apologize for that. With my promise that I will NOT do so again, I hope you will forgive me. As a student I should be focused on my education. As a Princess, I should be more encouraging to you for your own. This is what I shall strive to do from now on. Again, my deepest apologies. Thank you for this time you've given me."
With that, Jessica curtsied then returned to her seat.
Dame Ayalla took her place at the lectern, "Very well said Princess. Your report was quite enlightening. Even I learned some things I didn't know before. Perhaps there should be the suggestion of some type of workshop about the services and hiring of Solos. Perhaps even some guest speakers."
"If I may, Dame Ayalla. I'd be happy to speak with Countess Doucet about submitting a proposal to the Headmaster," Jessica replied. "Of course this would be contracted as a consultant service."
From there the planned lessons took place. Queen Lellaa and the Headmaster left. Fiona Doucet had already slipped away when Jessica had finished. After classes for the day Jessica and Lellaa sat in the visitors' lounge.
"Well Jessica, I was very impressed today. Your report was very good. I believe accompanying Solo Fotens on his assignment did you a lot good," Lellaa commented.
Jessica nodded, "I was childish and stupid. If nothing else Mother, I came away at the very least; respectful."
"And so you learned more about contracts with Solos," Lellaa remarked.
"Yes Mother. Terms are upheld or penalties will apply. Penalties that are severe," Jessica said. "Especially in my case. I understand the penalty."
Lellaa regarded her daughter intently, "quite. I take you are still unhappy about the liaison."
"As I said; I was childish and stupid. Solo Fotens is the consummate Solo. He did no wrong, I did. My objection is not against him. Its against the contract. Mother I would very much prefer to have my first child as part of love shared with a husband instead of the calculated result of rendered services," Jessica admitted.
Lellaa looked as if she was pondering that statement, "the problem with wanting that my dear daughter; you've done nothing in effort to find an agreement, much less love. Many things have been coming to me while I waited for your return. The kindest rumor is that you may be a lesbian. The most popular is that you believe yourself too good for anyone."
Jessica looked down, "that was how I felt. As I said, I was being childish and stupid. I will not be so any longer. I understand the penalty clause Mother."
"I take it Solo Fotens only answered your questions about the contract as it pertained to your involvement," Lellaa asked.
Jessica nodded.
Lellaa nodded back, "I see. So he didn't tell you about escape clauses."
"Escape clause? What's that," Jessica asked.
"Oh that's there in case one party wants to back out before anything is done. Essentially its buying out the contract," Lellaa answered airily.
Jessica's jaw dropped, "buy out the contract? That can be done?"
Lellaa frowned at her, "yes. You sound like you may be interested in doing that."
Jessica stood up and faced her Mother and curtsied, "Mother. What must be done for the escape clause?"
The Queen stared intently at her daughter then finally answered, "The maximum settlement in full. A Paladin model Warhorse, complete Voyager Campaign outfitting, custom armor and seventy-five thousand coins. The sword he has was the deposit and is non-refundable. If you want to use the escape clause then YOU must make the settlement. I will allow you to do so, but its all on you. Are you angry you weren't informed of that?"
"I didn't ask and he said he had no problem fulfilling the terms of the contract. I'm only disappointed in myself for not thinking of asking Mother," Jessica admitted.
Lellaa pointed to the door. Jessica understood she meant her to go to it. Jessica opened the door and found Fiona Doucet standing with Patrick Fotens in the corridor.
"Please come in," Jessica invited.
Patrick followed Fiona inside.
Fiona curtsied to the Queen, "I've brought Solo Fotens as you asked your Majesty."
Lellaa nodded to her, "thank you Countess. If you would be so kind."
Fiona stepped over to the side as Patrick came forward.
"Weyden," Patrick nodded to her.
Lellaa nodded back, "thank you for making time. My daughter is now aware of the escape clause. She has expressed her desire to buy out the contract. Would you object to my granting her permission to do so?"
Patrick answered, "She would have to meet the terms of the clause. If she can meet the terms and you have no objection, then I have no objection."
Lellaa nodded to Jessica. Jessica stepped forward and addressed Patrick.
"Thank you for allowing the contract buy out. I will order the equipment first thing tomorrow. I can have an armorer here after classes at the end of the week to collect the measurements and color selection," Jessica said.
Patrick nodded then looked to Queen Lellaa.
Lellaa smiled, "I did not forget. We can settle the contract for the assignment right now if you like."
Patrick nodded and took out his battle ledger, "There was an inaccuracy in the contract that was revised."
"Ah yes. Jessica told me about it. She also informed me that you were aware they were trying to deceive you. Indeed your experience just lends more credence that I was right in your ability to educate my daughter. Solo Fotens I have no objection to revising own our contract to honor our agreement. I also understand there were some expenses incurred. Please add that to the total," Lellaa said.
Patrick went through the revised contract and added the expenses. He corrected the contract and send it to her tablet and passed over the tickets. Lellaa signed off and send it back then counted the money and passed it over. Patrick deposited the coins into a pouch.
Patrick put his ledger away, "the account is settled and concludes that contract."
Lellaa smiled, "It was very good doing business with you Solo Fotens. I've passed the contract to Jessica and she will conclude it when the settlement has been taken care of. I still look forward to seeing you at Tournament."
Patrick nodded then turned to go.
"Just a moment. Solo Fotens do you have any information pertinent about Jessica in Tournament," Lellaa asked.
Patrick nodded, "ten coins worth."
Lellaa counted out the coins and passed them over.
"Laanower is going to target your left arm using a personal lance on the first run. The plan is to make you more vulnerable to everyone else so that you won't get near Talfar," Patrick said.
"Money well spent again. Thank you Solo Fotens," Lellaa said.
Patrick simply turned and left. There was nothing left to discuss.
After the door closed Fiona looked over, "that was something I wasn't aware of. I seem to be slipping."
Lellaa shook her heard, "If he knows the plan for Jessica then I think its safe to assume that he knows any plans concerning himself as well. Jeffries Talfar isn't so foolish to overlook any threat, no matter how remote. If Solo Fotens is as you both have claimed then I have no doubt that There is some plan that is in motion for him as well."
"He's not going to show me any quarter next week. I almost pity Lorenz Dante. Its seems as if everybody already knows he can't win but has to ride against him anyway," Jessica commented.
Fiona said gently, "The fact that Dante understands he will be defeated yet will still sit in his saddle tall and proud isn't a sign of foolishness. It is a sign of character. He has the strength to face his shortcomings and accept the outcome. Good day my Ladies."
With that Fiona curtsied to the two royals and left.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 9 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Phoebe rode Daalumos in and out of shadows until they finally emerged in front of the small temple. The Malzeek family stood waiting. The BloodLust felt like indulging his humor. He reared up on his hind legs and let loose an almost ear shattering shriek. After a moment of thought Tam Malzeek came forward and bowed.
"Welcome Goddess," Lord Malzeek said, offering her his hand to dismount.
Phoebe looked at his hand a moment then took it and dismounted. Tam turned to Daalumos and bowed to him as well.
"We are pleased to be greeted," Phoebe said and advanced to the family as Tam escorted her.
Celia Malzeek smiled and curtsied, "My Goddess. Your offering waits inside. May I attend you?"
Phoebe nodded, "yes."
Together they went into the temple. Soon Phoebe's armor was off and sat on a stand by a dark stone throne-like chair. A pair of delicate looking sandals with a high slender heel slipped onto her feet and a long gown was lowered over her. The effect was striking. Black silk tinted with red. Like a shadow tinged with blood or fire. A long slit off center exposed a length of shapely leg.
One by one the family members entered followed by Daalumos who stood off to the side. Sania came up and knelt at Phoebe's feet.
"Do you like it all Goddess Phoebe," the girl asked.
Phoebe leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "I am pleased. You and your new family have done well."
A boy hobbled forward and bowed as he could without falling over.
"Come closer Mica Malzeek," Phoebe commanded.
When he was within reach she slowly passed her hand over him, lingering at the small of his back then his head.
"You were injured as a babe. You fell. Because your body suffered, your mind became strong. I have never healed other than myself. I cannot assure success, only the effort. Do you wish this," Phoebe asked.
"Yes My Goddess," Mica answered. "What must I do?"
"Prepare him and take place on my altar," Phoebe ordered.
Quickly he removed his clothes and and a bucket of water was poured over him to rinse him clean. Tam picked him up and laid him on the altar then turned him over to lay face down. Phoebe stepped close. Sania stood beside her.
"I need a small amount of your blood my priestess," Phoebe stated to her.
Sania took a small knife and carefully cut her arm and let the blood drip into a wine glass then held it up.
Phoebe dipped her fingertip and drew some designs on the boy's lower back then spoke in the language of the Underworld.
" Hurt of old become new," Phoebe said.
A loud crack was heard and Mica screamed in pain.
Phoebe continued, " as you were once become again. Take rightful place and trouble no more. Mend and be as was intended from day born!"
A grinding was heard, like gravel held in hand trying to crush against itself then a final loud snap. Mica lay on the altar breathing raggedly from the pain.
"Stand up young Malzeek," Phoebe ordered. "Stand up for yourself."
Slowly Mica clambered to stand atop the altar. His previous stance was not used. He stood normally, but it was evident he was exhausted from the pain.
Phoebe nodded then gestured for him to climb down, "move about on your own."
Mica slowly shuffled around the room and began to move more confidently. Despite that, it was obvious the boy was exhausted from the pain of the healing.
"Th-thank you Goddess. How may I serve you," Mica asked.
Phoebe looked at him intently, "your body is as it should be now, but your mind is of more import. It is very strong and sharp. Use that. Acquire wealth for your family."
Mica Malzeek bowed slowly, "I will my Goddess."
Several servants had quietly entered the temple. Phoebe pointed to two.
"You two. Attend the boy. See to it he is bathed and put to bed," Phoebe instructed.
"Yes Goddess," the two maids answered and curtsied to her then went to task.
Phoebe looked down to Sania, "when I am not here, only you may sit here."
The girl smiled, "yes Goddess. Thank you!"
Sir Aldo quietly entered. Phoebe took notice and beckoned him to approach.
"Goddess. I have brought the shield Mistress Sania will have when she is ready for the Academy," Aldo stated and took the covering of the shield.
The cloth taken off Phoebe could see the Malzeek family crest adorned the front. Phoebe regarded it then stood up and went to the altar.
"Place it here," she instructed. "The other way. Show me the reverse side."
Aldo turned it over for her. Phoebe took her Vulcan sword and very carefully used only the tip. She inscribed the backside of the shield with words and art.
Phoebe rested her hand on the shield and closed her eyes. Her lips moved but no words were heard. Finally she stopped and looked to Sania.
"This shield has a touch of power. Those that smash against it will not readily wish to again," Phoebe cautioned.
Sania tried to pick up the shield but found it too heavy.
"C-can't. Goddess I can't. This means I can't have it? Will somebody else have to have it," Sania asked fearfully.
Phoebe shook her head, "no Child. You are not yet ready. You will grow and garner strength. Shield in one hand, Lance or sword in the other. I encourage this."
Phoebe went over to Daalumos and took two bags that were slung across his shoulders and set them on the altar.
"I have secured your tribute to this Academy they speak of. Only yourself stands in your way now," Phoebe said then turned to the others. "Malzeek. Guard her tribute. You may all go now. The words I will speak are for her alone."
All the adults left after showing their respect. Sir Aldo took the shield and promised it would be in her room.
Phoebe turned to Sania after they had all gone and began to strip.
"Child. You must not forget what is important. The love of the mother whom gave you birth. That love is why you have entered my service. You come from a far away hovel. These mortals have taken you in as their own. Honor them at this Academy. Only in battle against your enemies may you show rage. Keep your anger in check. Through prayer you have gained, only through hard work will you earn and keep more. I do not pray. There is no one for me to pray to. I must earn all I have and all I wish to have. You have prayed to me and I have provided for you. Now you must begin to earn," Phoebe said then began attaching her armor and boots.
Finally she swept the cloak about her shoulders, "the little girl born of a poor hovel was then. That is where you came from. Now you are the taken daughter of a great house and soon to be WarPriestess. Honor is not born, it is earned. You are a mortal and that is your way. I have no need of honor for myself. You will. Ensure that all you have is never disputed. Earn everything. I take my leave now. I will come and go at my leisure."
"Yes Goddess. I will earn everything by getting smart and strong," Sania proclaimed then curtsied as her adoptive mother had taught her.
Patrick walked through the corridor amid constant whispers. That was usual. That no one was stopping as he drew near was new. It wasn't hard to understand why. Yesterday a royal with a reputation for having an extreme hatred for Solos submitted a lengthy report upon the services performed by Solos after being under On-Assignment tutelage of one. Even the instructors gave him subtle nods of approval. None of which mattered to him. Patrick turned a corner and went outside. The urge to frown was hard to resist. Vaan Arento sat on a bench holding a rose up to smell.
"Ah! Solo Fotens," The Prince exclaimed.
He all but jumped up and bounded over to Patrick.
Patrick continued to walk, "you wouldn't ambush me out of boredom Arento; what's on your mind?"
Vaan Arento matched stride, "I read the most FASCINATING report this morning!"
"Everyday Coif and Cravat Styling for the Casual Prince," Patrick asked.
The Prince gawked. He knew Patrick Fotens was fairly quick-witted, but this was a first. He was sarcastic and joking at the same time. Even more, the comment was completely befitting and funny. Vaan laughed hard. So hard tears came to his eyes. He had to wipe his eyes as they walked toward the Ward Rooms.
"Solo Fotens it was such a pity your magnificent comment was only heard by the two of us! It was beyond legendary," Arento chuckled finally. "I must pass over fair coin for it though, never have I been so bested before."
Vaan dug into his jacket pocket and took out several coins and handed them over.
Patrick took the coins as they walked into the Solos' Ward Room. An assistant noticed them come in and nodded. Patrick opened his closet then began to undress.
"Oh yes. You wanted to know about our encounter," Vaan stated.
Patrick hung up his sword belt and took off his jacket, "play around too much and I have to charge you for Hold-Over."
"Certainly. I'll get to my point Solo Fotens. Its about Dante. He is wanting to offer up a new armor for the contest today. Would that be agreeable," Vaan asked.
Patrick shook his head, "I'll be acquiring new armor in a couple of weeks. I also have a new sword. I take it this is for the revisit of the contest?"
The Prince nodded, "it is. Well that certainly complicates matters. New Armor was going to stretch his resources as it was. What of a new uniform? I understand your actual status is intentionally in dispute."
"Eighty-Sixth," Patrick stated.
Vaan's eyes narrowed, "as the only member on roster that would make you the Commander."
Patrick shook his head, "no. I'm still a student. There is no Commander."
Vaan had also been paying attention to Patrick's actions. Solos were known to never actually need assistance donning or removing their armor unless injured. Vaan had seen the Solo joust before. Watching the young man put on his armor added more pieces to the puzzle. His hand were sure and quick, without doubt that each piece was secure.
"I see. So a new uniform of the Eighty-Sixth Regiment. Very well," Vaan Arento said then turned to leave.
Patrick stopped him at the door by commenting, "sure you wouldn't have done better to be over encouraging him?"
Vaan smiled, "oh he's being encouraged plenty."
"Doucet," Patrick rolled his eyes. "That's fairly cruel Arento. Armor isn't comfortable to begin with. It can't be any better after her influence."
Vaan chuckled, "now now. Not even I would do that. Fiona is doing other things. There is a young lady trying to inspire Dante though. She would be more suitable than the Countess. In fact I heard he has been quite smitten with her for some time and that it just happens to be mutual."
Patrick nodded as the flamboyant prince left. Finally he took out his helmet and shield then closed the closet and went over to the stable. Daemon stood ready and waiting. The stable-hand held Patrick's shield and helmet while he mounted then handed them up. Patrick rode out of the stable heading to the arena. Patrick entered and was greeted by cheers from the others in the class. Lorenz Dante entered from the other side to be greeted as well. A girl had been walking beside him then after a quick word went back into the tunnel and stood just inside. Dante urged his horse forward, so Patrick did as well. They met in the center.
"I feel fit and ready to revisit Solo Fotens. However I would like to offer up something. Should you be the victor I'd like provide you a new uniform as a bonus of sorts," Dante said loudly.
Patrick nodded and replied loudly as well, "agreeable. You do look fit. I expect the best of you Dante as I see you have no need for care."
Dante settled into his saddle, "Oh I wouldn't dream of insulting you with anything less."
Both saluted each other then rode back. Assistants handed up shields and lances.
"Daemon. Battle," Patrick said.
The robotic horse went into its combat mode and would only be controlled by Patrick's feet and knees. Patrick moved over to his starting position then shifted to settle in his saddle. Dante appeared to do the same as an official moved to the center point and held the flag out. Patrick tightened his grip on the lance.
"GO," the official yelled lifting the flag and running clear.
Patrick's command set Daemon to lunge forward and take stride. At the other end Dante's horse broke from the standstill and raced toward the opposite side. Patrick was sitting square in his saddle holding the shield at a slight in and down angle. He aimed directly for just above dead center of Dante's shield. Both lances connected, Dante's snapping off and Patrick's shattered. Patrick was pushed to bend back but Dante was taken completely off to turn in mid-air and fall face down to the soft sand.
"OH!" the students in the stands exploded, along with several whistles and whoops.
Lorenz Dante grunted then began to move to stand. Applause and several shouted encouragements urged him up. He regained his feet and flipped up his visor. He raised his left arm to signal that he was fit to continue and the clapping and whistles grew. Dante remounted his horse and took the shield from the official and rode back, passing Fotens with a salute. They took their places after taking up new lances.
The small crowd were divided in their support. The louder support seemed to be in Lorenz Dante's favor though the support for Patrick Fotens wasn't silent. The Official checked both sides then took his own ready position again and the crowd softened their calls.
"GO," the official yelled and ran clear again.
Daemon went up on his hind legs and hopped once then launched himself to race forward. Dante's horse bolted forward into a dead run. Dante leaned forward into his saddle, but held his lance back to his side. They closed on each other at a fast clip. Patrick's lance made the first contact just down and left of center. He felt the shock of impact and flexed to hold it. Dante rammed his lance forward to slam just below center of Patrick's shield. Both lances shattered from the impact. Patrick twisted in his saddle to stay mounted as did Lorenz. It was all the Gentry could do to keep from being ripped from his position.
Again the crowd exclaimed. Both lances had shattered but neither rider was unhorsed. Points went to both. At the end of the lanes they flipped up their visors and trotted back. Lorenz rode with his broken lance held high prompting his supporters to cheer louder. The damaged lances were discarded. Dante drank from a bottle of water then took up a new lance and moved to his starting position. Patrick had already exchanged lances and sat ready. A few members of the crowd began to stomp and clap in tandem while some whistled as the official checked both then held the flag ready.
"GO," he yelled and ran clear.
Daemon launched himself forward and tore down the lane. Dante's horse lunged into a full run. The two raced for opposite ends. Lorenz sat leaning slightly back this time holding his lance just forward of his line aiming below and left of center of Patrick's shield. Patrick aimed dead-center and rode straight in the saddle. Just as they crossed; Daemon lunged for a longer stride, Patrick leaned forward and rammed his lance forward. Both lances shattered but Dante had tensed at Patrick's tactic and was pushed completely over. One thing that couldn't be argued, Dante knew how to hit the ground safely. He had twisted slightly at the last instant of leaving the saddle to land on his back, instead of face down.
"OOH!" The crowd exclaimed and immediately began to yell for him to recover. "UP! C'MON DANTE GET UP!"
Lorenz Dante struggled for a moment to breathe and shoved the visor up. The impact had knocked the wind out of him. Quickly he forced himself to cough and that broke the effect. Dante sucked in air loudly then rolled over and coughed again.
"Dante are you alright," the official asked after running over.
Lorenz nodded then coughed again before saying, "wind knocked out of me."
"Can you continue," the official asked.
Dante forced himself to his feet, "I am definitely FIT TO CONTINUE."
The stands cheered even louder. Many began to alternate stomping and clapping to encourage him. Lorenz leaned the broken lance against his horse and hung his shield on the side then climbed up. He took the lance first then shield and nodded to Patrick as they returned to starting positions. Dante drank deep of the water again then snapped his visor down and took the new lance.
The girl in the tunnel ran forward, "Lorenz! Are you sure? Really sure?"
Lorenz Dante nodded, "I'm good Nia."
Dante eased his horse away and took his starting position. The loud cheering, stomping and clapping suddenly stopped. The Official checked both sides as the arena became silent as a tomb. The flag was held ready.
"GO," the official yelled and ran clear.
Both horses lunged forward and ran the length of the lanes. Dante leaned forward in his saddle and angled his shield down slightly while tucking his lance to hold position tight. Patrick also leaned forward, shield angled inward and his lance held even with his line. As they drew close Patrick nudged Daemon who again lunged forward for a longer stride as the lances crossed. Dante's lance broke as it slid to the side. Patrick had thrust his lance forward as contact was made aiming low on the shield. The lance shattered as Lorenz was lifted out of the saddle and thrown back. The crowd held its breath watching as the Gentry practically flew backwards to land in the sand.
"LORENZ," the girl cried out and ran for the downed rider.
The official and Sir Belvin rushed out as well, along with the assistants for both sides. Patrick brought Daemon to a stop.
"Daemon. Ride," Patrick said, switching back to normal riding mode then dismounted.
Sir Belvin flipped up Dante's visor and looked, "he's out. Give me a capsule."
One of the assistants reached into a pouch and handed over a white tube-like thing. Sir Belvin snapped it at the middle and waved it under Dante's nose.
"C'mon Dante. Wake up," Sir Belvin said waving it back and forth.
A moment later Lorenz groaned and began to stir.
Sir Belvin nodded to the others then cautioned him, "easy there. Just relax. Are you hurt?"
"Ow. Fotens got me good. Didn't he," Lorenz asked.
Patrick had joined them and was looking down, "I did. Are you hurt?"
Dante gave him a lopsided grin, "I gave you all I had. I didn't hold back."
Patrick nodded, "I know. You didn't let me down. You want to get up or should I charge you for making your new girlfriend get clingy and caring?"
The girl glared at Patrick angrily but Lorenz Dante laughed.
"I think I should get up before I get accused of milking this," Dante grinned.
Patrick offered his hand and the Gentry took it and together they got him to his feet. The stands cheered as they saluted each other.
"I know a great place in town. I'll talk to the tailor tomorrow," Dante said.
"Save for the weekend. Have her look after you for a while first," Patrick said, turned away and took a few steps then stopped. "I'm satisfied Dante."
Lorenz Dante nodded and let his girlfriend escort him away as Patrick went over to Daemon and collected his shield.
"Daemon. Follow," Patrick ordered.
The robotic horse followed dutifully and entered the tunnel. At the middle a figure lounged against the wall.
"Nicely done," Jeffries Talfar said with a cold smile. "Quite the favor. Weeding out the Lessers before Tournament selection."
Patrick stepped closer, "favor."
The future Duke chuckled. Patrick's fist moved like lightening and slammed into Talfar's gut, making him double over and vomit then collapse.
The Solo grabbed the noble and yanked him back to his feet and rammed him back to the wall hard enough to daze him before letting him fall to the ground again.
"So you're saying that I performed a favor for you," Patrick asked blandly as he advanced again.
Jeffries Talfar began to crawl away trying to wave him off, "n-no. No. No favor! N-never say anything again!"
Patrick practically towered over the obnoxious noble. A bit of power slipped. Talfar's mind was invaded with the image of himself having his helmet ripped off by a lance and his face scarred. Patrick seized back the the power and left the cowering Talfar's mind.
"You think too highly of yourself Talfar. I could change that. You implied personal involvement. Maybe we should be. PERSONALLY involved," Patrick growled.
Talfar scooted back towards the arena end of the tunnel shaking his head, "No Fotens! No! I didn't mean it! I was just mouthing off about that being a favor!"
They had re-entered the arena. Unfortunately for the future duke, there were still a lot of people milling about in the stands talking about the match. They turned to see what was happening.
"No Solo Fotens I was just mouthing off! I didn't mean to say that I considered defeating Dante a favor! I was just running my mouth off," Talfar protested.
Patrick stayed on the advance, "No Talfar. You said I gave you quite a favor for weeding out a lesser before Tournament selection. The problem with that is; I am a Solo. I don't do favors. You're claiming I did one for you. That is a problem Talfar. A big problem."
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT! I WAS JUST MOUTHING OFF," Jeffries Talfar pleaded.
He then noticed where he was and people could see. They could see and now knew he had crossed the line. The big problem for him now, was that the angry Solo wasn't backing down. What happened in the tunnel hadn't been seen. Or so he thought until Fiona Doucet and Vaan Arento stepped out into the arena from the same tunnel. He had no doubt they had heard and seen everything.
Sir Belvin called out, "is this a challenge issue?"
"No," Patrick answered stalking closer to Talfar. "I'm just going to tear his face off. That will satisfy my PERSONAL involvement."
Talfar scrambled to his feet finally and ran, but not before those that had stayed saw that his usually immaculate uniform was soiled with dirt, sand and his own vomit.
Patrick made to go after him but was stopped by Sir Belvin.
"That's enough Solo. Do not pursue him," Sir Belvin ordered.
Fiona and Vaan had joined them.
"Please Solo Fotens. Let us deal with this. I assure you it shall be resolved to satisfaction," Fiona stated then went after Talfar.
Patrick glared, "he said Favor."
Vaan Arento said quietly, "please let Fiona deal with Jeffries Talfar. If she does what I think she will, not only will you be satisfied; you'll be amused. I swear to you Solo Fotens, this will not go without retribution. In fact if Fiona does not offer to pay you to claim the offense I will. Please state a price."
Patrick regarded the royal. It was very rare that Vaan Arento put aside being a fop to be actually serious. This was one of those times.
"Three hundred and you own him," Patrick said flatly.
Vaan nodded, "You'll have it by mid-day tomorrow."
Patrick turned and walked away.
Vaan sighed in relief, "that was close."
"You're not kidding. I was beginning to think Fotens wasn't going to stop or at least listen to reason," Sir Belvin remarked.
"Fiona and I saw Talfar skulking about and thought it best if we were close by. We were right. In the tunnel he said that he considered it great favor that Solo Fotens defeated Dante. He called it 'weeding out the Lessers before Tournament selection'. That's what enraged Solo Fotens, remarking that it was a favor to Talfar. Solo Fotens actually is within his right as Talfar crossed a very serious line," Prince Vaan informed the jousting instructor.
Sir Belvin grew angry, "DAMN! I have to go to Headmaster with this Prince Arento. Inform the Countess she is to bring Jeffries Talfar to the Headmaster's office immediately!"
Both left the arena.
The Headmaster shook his head, "This could get further out of hand than it already is Ren."
Ren Belvin nodded, "very and it is within Solos' rights to take action. Prince Arento made a purchase offer for Talfar's punishment from Solo Fotens. I have the feeling that Solo Fotens didn't really want to agree to it. The prince more than likely has the money and would pay but that gives him a superior position. I strongly advise you to get ahead of this, FAST!"
A moment later there was a knock on the door.
"Come," the Headmaster called out.
The door opened and in walked Countess Fiona Doucet. Behind her were two members of the student council pulling Jeffries Talfar between them roughly as Prince Vaan Arento calmly followed the procession.
The Headmaster nodded, "the subjects of our conversation."
"Take your hands off me," Talfar protested and struggled for release.
"The two of you may go. Thank you," The Headmaster instructed the two young men who promptly turned and left.
Talfar glared, "when my father hears about THIS!"
The Headmaster stood up quickly, "SILENCE!"
He walked out from behind his desk, "Prince Arento. I understand you negotiated the purchase of Jeffries Talfar's punishment from Solo Patrick Fotens. Correct?"
Vaan smiled charmingly, "indeed I did. Not my usual financial pursuit, but one I can find quite interesting for a while."
"It is the view of the Academy that the purchase should be made by us instead. Punishment will be met through the Student council but only after approval by myself. Sir Belvin. Should Solo Fotens still be on the grounds inform him of this and to see me first thing in the morning to collect his fee and submit a ticket," the Headmaster stated.
Vaan frowned but nodded, "very well Headmaster."
The Prince then leered at the future Duke, "such a pity. I was already starting to think of some rather AMUSING things for you Jeffries."
Talfar glared at the Prince. Had they been anywhere but the Headmaster's office, he would have showed more defiance. As it was though, he could do nothing. To defy the Headmaster would be grounds for expulsion and denial to be re-admitted. Talfar also knew that even with the influence his father had, there was no disputing the authority of the Academy's Headmaster. If he even protested then his father would get involved and he would face more than just the punishment.
To the Talfar family Solos were disposable weaponry. Use them then discard. Solos paid well never created problems, they solved them. A future Duke that insulted Solos would be a problem. A problem that the Solos would solve and charge heavily for. With that in mind, Jeffries Talfar kept his mouth shut.
"Well Countess. What do you have in mind," the Headmaster asked.
Fiona walked over and whispered into his ear then stepped back smiling.
"That's rather dramatic. It can be argued," the Headmaster countered.
Fiona shook her head and produced a small recorder. She activated it and the entire exchange between Talfar and Fotens could be heard clearly. That eliminated any and all doubt of Talfar's guilt. He knew his choices; accept whatever punishment the Academy doled out or face a Solo's fury. If he took the first there was the off chance his father would not be made aware. If he faced Fotens then its was a sure thing his father would be made aware when he received the ticket; for more than what had been negotiated to Arento. One thing Talfar did know for certain, the regiment Patrick Fotens had come from had a solid reputation. A negative report from such a regiment would affect the Talfars' abilities, especially his, to hire Solos in the future. Without Solos the family's army would have to fight for themselves. That was not they way they fought. Why risk their own men when hired fighters were available?
The Headmaster could see that Fiona was dead-set on her idea, "Talfar return to your dorm and report my office first thing in the morning. Go. Countess stay behind."
Jeffries Talfar left. Outside all heads were turning to watch him. Word had spread fast. Now he knew how that brat Jessica had felt somewhat. In truth, he had done worse. It was evident when he reached the main corridor. It was full and students moved to the walls to glare with disapproval as he approached. Basically he was taking a walk of shame.
In the office the Headmaster sat down behind his desk, "you could be going too far Countess to want this."
"Contact the Duke Talfar. He will not refuse if I issue the punishment and charges," Fiona said coldly.
Slowly the Headmaster reached and put through the call. It was answered immediately and within minutes the Duke came onto the line.
"Duke Talfar. Apologies for interrupting you," Fiona said.
Duke Talfar asked, "Countess Doucet? Fiona? This is a surprise. I thought the Headmaster was calling."
Fiona cleared her throat, "he placed the call. There is a problem with your son Duke Talfar."
"Oh my. This is in your official capacity as the Head of Student Council. Very well Countess. What has he done," Duke Talfar asked.
Fiona spoke clearly and carefully, "after a contest between a Solo and a Gentry that was a revisit due to injury. Your son said to the Solo that he considered the defeat of the Gentry a favor. As he put it; weeding out the Lessers before Tournament selection. Naturally the Solo has taken offense for the allegation. This Solo is the only remaining member of the Eighty-Sixth regiment."
Duke Talfar sighed, "the Eighty-Sixth. Impeccable record for that regiment. The fact that only one remains speaks volumes to me Countess. It sounds like a Solo not to be taken lightly."
"Indeed. Very professional. Duke Talfar there is no doubt at all as your son's actions. Two witnesses and a record. I have to inform you that one of those witnesses is myself," Fiona admitted.
"I see. Jeffries has done things up completely I gather. What are the options," Duke Talfar said tightly.
Fiona and the Headmaster both could tell he was doing all he could not to lose his temper.
"The Solo will allow the Academy to administer a punishment for a penalty fee of three hundred coins. The punishment would involve a degree of humiliation," Fiona stated.
Duke Talfar ground out, "very well. So be it. I will reimburse the penalty fee. Do as you see fit Countess. Good day."
The call was disconnected.
The Headmaster shook his head, "he didn't even ask what you had in store."
Fiona shook her head, "it doesn't matter to him. The Talfars can't afford a respected Solo speaking against them. No matter what I do to Jeffries Talfar, his father will do much worse later on."
Fiona Doucet turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.
"One day Countess; you may actually go too far. I have the feeling though that you would still be justified. Humility goes a long way. Must you go so far as to use humiliation to teach it," the Headmaster mused in the now empty room.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 10 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Phoebe was sitting on her throne. Her eyes were closed. Daalumos stood waiting patiently. He knew she was searching for something. When her eyes snapped open, he stamped his feet in joy.
"You've found something for us to get into," the Lust said trying not to laugh.
Phoebe took up her sword and climbed onto his back, "I have. Go Daalumos. Follow my feelings."
The bound demon bolted for the archway and ran out into the night. In and out of shadows he ran, leaving behind his hoof prints flickering in flames. Soon they crest a low ridge. Down below, the two could see armies gathering. Phoebe nudged Daalumos with her heel and he lunged forward. They rode down the side and broke for the advancing sides. The BloodLust could feel their muderous intent and it fed him. Phoebe had felt the fear and anticipation. The two opposing sides clashed as Phoebe and Daalumos swept in. The fear immediately spiked. Daalumos jumped and stamped, shrieking with glee and he fed the rage back which came back to him even stronger. Phoebe was doing the same, already many had succumbed and simply lay on the ground; crippled by the visions of terror that filled their minds so much, they believed were real. Together they ended up culling a group and worked it until a loud battle cry caught their attention.
"Someone is IMPORTANT my Mistress," Daalumos laughed.
Phoebe snarled back, "yes they ARE! GO!"
Both had felt it. Divinity. The touch of Godly power. They knew it wasn't a God, it was a Demi-God. The child of a God or Goddess. Their power was strong though. Suddenly there was a parting. Phoebe and Daalumos could see their next opponent. A middle-aged man began to bear down on them. He wore no helm and carried no shield, but it was the sword that caught her attention. It was a Divine weapon, most likely a gift.
It was very common for Demi-Gods to be estranged from their parent that bestowed Divinity. The God or Goddess usually presented them with gifts that were suited to need or disposition. Many acquainted with those individuals were of the mind that such gifts were an attempt to excuse the absence. The more cynical believed the gifts were more of a show to justify worship. That was the thing, the cynics were right in most of the cases. Especially in the cases of those pertaining to violence of some kind.
The two drew even and slashed at each other. His sword sent sparks flying as it struck against Phoebe's. The surprise on his face betrayed him. The weapon was indeed Divine. Daalumos edged back. He wore no armor to protect him from such weapons like Phoebe did. Very few weapons were actually able to get past her Styxion armor. A slash from her Vulcan sword dropped the robotic horse he rode and she pitched herself off to battle him head to head.
"I've heard of a rider. I had no idea you would be so PATHETIC," He roared and charged at her.
Phoebe just smirked as she parried the blow using the sword one-handed. She then lunged forward and using a two-handed grip she slashed. Deliberately she went slowly so that he would bring up his guard. The swords clashed and the Demi-God now understood he wasn't fighting a mortal woman.
Phoebe smiled coldly, "oh no. Not that look of horror-struck surprise Demi-God. I am FAR from being done this night!"
The Demi-God stepped back. Here was someone that actually knew what he was and looked unconcerned about the prospect.
"RUDIANOS," he yelled to the night sky. "FATHER!"
The battle had practically stopped. Both sides looked on in awe. Never before had an admitted Demi-God called out for help. A moment later the silence was shattered by Phoebe's laugh.
"Shall we all take a moment? Sacrifice something, erect a temple? Perhaps you should call out louder," Phoebe suggested.
There was no humor, either with her laughter or statement. He was a Demi-God. The mortality in him blocked the ability to detect Divinity. The fact that she could tell what he was spoke volumes. More like screamed volumes. Was her ability to detect Divinity part of her own as a Demi-Goddess or was she more than that? A minor Goddess? He had no clue as she had not revealed her name to him.
He felt a tremor of dread when she began walking toward him. Suddenly everyone that had formed a large circle around them immediately scurried back in fear. Each man had a look of sheer horror on his face. The same look became mirrored on his own when the woman stepped into a shadow only to come out of another to the side. Several times she did this, moving ever closer to him. The burning horse reared up on its hind legs and let out an almost mind-numbing shriek.
He knew he would have to fight her. He began to hope that if he fought her, she wouldn't toy with his death. With a loud yell he charged her. Her swing was faster causing his sword to almost flick to the side, harmlessly away from her. She then held him at bay from the tip of the blade, enticing him to try again. Enraged he swung repeatedly only to have each blow scrape her blade and slide away. With a flick of her wrist, the sword slipped past and cut along the arm of his left arm. The armor melted from the contact and the skin along his arm blistered and burned around the shallow slice.
"BITCH," he screamed but she was bearing down on him.
A quick thrust and his right thigh suffered as his arm causing him to curse in pain. Another thrust that was faster than his attempt to block slipped past. The Vulcan sword plunged through his middle, half piercing and half melting. Slowly he sank to his knees as the sword withdrew. He felt around the wound and looked at the blood on his hands then with an animal like whimper, slowly fell to the ground.
Around her, Phoebe felt the fear climb to an even higher level. She had felled a Demi-God in front of them all.
"I have taken the Demi-God! I am the Nightmare Rider! Know my name in terror. I AM PHOEBE," Phoebe announced.
The dark glow around her had become almost tangible. Everyone that had seen that night willing to speak of it would tell of a woman with unearthly beauty that was so fear inspiring, even a Demi-God's father had forsaken him in battle against her. After the armies had quit the field, she searched around for coins. She had found quite the cache in an abandoned horse's saddlebags. She took the saddlebags and left. Daalumos had gotten quite his fill of the murderous intent before they through the battle into chaos. The power they had acquired would stay with them for quite some time.
Daalumos laughed as they entered their home, "your name will be spoken in fear for some time. Every time the tale is told it will be homage to us. That was very clever."
Phoebe slid off his back and began to remove her armor, "yes."
"Killing the Demi-God disturbed you," the BloodLust asked.
"Hardly. It was an act of mercy. Demi-Gods are nothing more than propaganda devices. Its disgusting. Children between Divine beings are threats, Demi-Gods and Goddesses are nothing more than advertising tools. I did the half-mortal a favor," Phoebe said angrily as she went to shower before settling into the bath.
Daalumos followed her, "so your father cast you out not for you to learn war on your own?"
Phoebe leaned her head back to rest on the side of the bath, "of course not. I am a threat to him, just as I am to my mother. No court in the Underworld will welcome me. The Heavenly Gods and Goddesses at least provide their offspring something to start them off unless they are kept in servitude. I serve no one. Only myself."
The bound demon understood she no longer wanted to discuss the matter. He went back out to the hall and began to rethink what he thought he knew. He did know that many divine offspring of the Underworld were cast out on their own. Most because they caused problems in the courts. The daughters were usually kept though. Mainly for decoration, but sometimes for entertainment. None of that mattered to Daalumos personally. His kind could not do such a thing. He had come into being well over a millennium ago. He would exist for as long as he found sustenance. Unless struck down by an instrument of Divinity. A weapon made by a God or Goddess could end him. Like Phoebe's sword.
Demons consumed, that was fact. The Lusts only consumed what they were. In Daalumos' case, he consumed murderous intent. He was a BloodLust. Until entering Phoebe's service he was bored when he wasn't close to a battlefield. Currently he was satisfied. He had encountered many beings in the Underworld. None held his attention the way Phoebe did. She was a constant source of amusement and confusion. He decided now would be a good time to sleep and did so.
The Academy was buzzing once again. This time there was much snickering and giggling with it. After all, it wasn't everyday that a future Duke was seen wearing a maid's outfit and performing such demeaning duties as sweeping and mopping floors, serving tables and cleaning them. The catch was, it wasn't an official maid's uniform. It was a costume for playing a maid. The skirt was MUCH shorter and the neckline more revealing.
The morning had started with Jeffries Talfar reporting to the Headmaster's office. Fiona Doucet handed him the outfit, complete with lingerie and shoes.
"Get changed. You have a lot of work to do today," Fiona stated firmly without any humor.
Several long minutes later he returned from the restroom in the outfit trying very hard to conceal his anger, and failing at it. Within five minutes the first wolf whistle sounded and it continued from there. It wasn't long and Talfar was dodging a third pinch of the rear-end. Serving the tables prompted even more lurid attention. Not from the boys, it was the girls.
Many of them remarked using some of the very same comments he had used on various young women that were service oriented and more than a few underclass girls. His big shock came, though it shouldn't have been such a surprise, when a hand snaked under the skirt and gently but firmly cupped his bottom.
"My! Don't you look simply delectable," Prince Vaan Arento oozed. "A marvelously wonderful morning to you Ladies!"
The table of first year girls grinned and giggled, "good morning your Highness!"
Vaan smiled to them but did not remove his hand, "isn't it just delightful to have such CHARMING service?"
The girls giggled and Vaan crowded Talfar closer and began to softly squeeze, "not to worry about your first day on the job. I'll be MORE than happy to look after you my DEAR."
Talfar snatched up the tray from the table and rushed off.
"Aww. Shy little thing. I shall simply have to do all I can to bring her out of her shell! Please do excuse me ladies," the flamboyant Prince said with a wink then followed the mortified future Duke. "MUFFIN? OH DARLING?"
The entire Dining Hall knew what he was up to and did their best not to roar with laughter, though many had to lay their heads down to muffle themselves. Even the instructors had to hide their faces behind their hands or napkins. The Headmaster tried to hard to maintain his own composure. It was a sure thing that today would be forever engraved in Academy history.
Complaints regarding Jeffries Talfar had been coming in since his second week at the Academy. First the maids, then the Gentry girls followed by lower Nobles. It wasn't long and the complaints started coming from the towns as well about his behavior. Off Academy grounds his title carried weight. On the grounds, there were no witnesses or evidence other than just the complaint. Until now. Crossing a Solo was different. They had no agenda. Solos had to be provoked in very specific ways. Talfar knew that. The big question was; why had he been so stupid as to do exactly that?
Most of the buzzing stopped and eyes were cast to the doorway. Patrick Fotens was entering. As usual he paid no mind to the collective and simply went over to an empty table and sat down to read notices. The notices came from one of the registry offices and from the Academy's office as well. Not many knew what they were. The Headmaster and instructors did. The notices were of the latest unit listings, locations and activities. Goods and services used predominantly by Solos. Events to update information or other workshops pertaining to business. Within certain notices were carefully disguised social events as well. Only Solos of greater than a year of experience knew how to understand those and decipher the instructions.
Tables began to be cleared of dishes as first and second year students frantically completed written assignments. Almost ten minutes later the Third and Fourth years began to leave casually. The bells chimed, causing the underclass to loudly exit. Wolf whistles and catcalls began going out in the corridor.
Jeffries Talfar had been sweeping the the corridor after being practically chased from the dining hall by Prince Vaan Arento. He had been blanking his mind against the fact of his apparel, but that was shattered when the bells chimed and the corridor filled with students. Many of whom began to grab, pinch and swat at his backside. Some of the girls were trying to flip the skirt of the dress. Most passing by made some lurid comment. In short; he was being subjected to the same treatment he had made others suffer, for the past four years.
When the corridor emptied Fiona Doucet finally strolled by.
"You're enjoying watching them do all of that to me. Aren't you," Talfar asked the Countess sarcastically.
Fiona turned around and stepped back over to him, "have you seen me smiling?"
The future Duke remarked, "not with your mouth."
"Not at all. That little outfit is nothing. One girl had once said she'd like to see you done up in a Brothel-girl's outfit. I strongly considered doing that. The day isn't over," Fiona remarked as she turned away to leave. "No one told you to stop working."
Talfar wanted to argue with her, but held his mouth closed and went back to sweeping. The idea of dressing as a Brothel-girl was not appealing at all. He had thrown around the comment of a girl being better suited to be one so many times, trying to figure out who suggested it was useless. He had only paid a price for it once prior. The twelve year old daughter of a High Noble. The girl was standing outside a stable while her father was inside having an adjustment being made to his horse.
Not even two minutes after the words left his mouth he found himself on the ground from being punched. What was worse was the Noble recognized him and knew his father. Duke Talfar had been furious to hear of whom he had insulted. It ended up costing him an ally and business deal as well. Jeffries had not been punished for what he did, only for whom he did it to. What was worse was the girl had been who a marriage negotiation with him had been with. Now there was last minute rushed negotiation with the Doucet family. In the end Fiona had established the terms and no matter what, Talfar interests were of the lesser. Jeffries didn't care about that. That was his father's and her father's doing. Personally all he cared about was the house he would have out of their sight for the girls he would start collecting to service his needs.
"Solo Fotens," the Headmaster called out.
Talfar glared as he swept, watching Patrick Fotens meet the Headmaster.
"Headmaster," Patrick greeted him.
The Headmaster said to him, "there was a misunderstanding yesterday afternoon. Your payment has been delayed until this afternoon."
"I was told midday," Patrick replied.
"Ah yes. That was what Prince Arento told you before being bought out. The Academy will be paying you instead and I was supposed to have it first thing this morning. Unfortunately for me there was a mistake and the payment has not become available yet. Since that happened a delay penalty applies and will be included in your payment this afternoon," the Headmaster informed him.
Patrick gave a half shrug, "an hour or two from the original time wouldn't constitute penalty."
"True, but I had stated for the record a new time which is much earlier. Over half the day would constitute a penalty, which of course will be paid. The Academy will always be above-board," the Headmaster stated.
Patrick regarded him for a long moment then nodded, "acceptable."
The Headmaster watched the young Solo walk away and resisted the urge to shake his head, "that young man took to the way entirely too easy. If he makes it to retirement, he'll go insane a day later."
Jessica Weyden, Lamia Tuala and Aruna Monning sat on a bench in the courtyard during the afternoon break. Not far away they could see Jeffries Talfar, still in the costume, sweeping off the walkway.
"I was talking to a Fourth year. She said that had it been anybody else Countess Fiona wouldn't have done that. It would have been going too far. So said, she did this to him because of a personal reason of her own," Aruna said in a low voice.
"SH," Lamia shushed quietly then spoke up. "Afternoon Countess."
Fiona nodded to them, "afternoon ladies, Highness."
"Things seem to be going well enough," Jessica remarked.
Unless speaking softly or whispering they knew that Talfar could hear them.
Fiona regarded the future Duke, "about as well as can be expected. There IS room for improvement of course."
Aruna asked gently, "Countess, are you sure that such is warranted? There may be argument of going out of the way."
"What be the measure of a man? To what standard shall he be held? There must of course be one who did set such standard for others to be held to. Verily there must be exceptions to that standard of man; lest there be no men who are exceptional," Fiona said the last part looking at Patrick Fotens across the way.
All three girls looked over and saw him too. Jessica was the first to stand up.
"Point eloquently made Countess. We'll leave you to your; business," Jessica said with a nod and left, followed by her two friends.
The moment was broken by Talfar's quiet snarl, "if only our fathers weren't acquainted."
Fiona turned around and walked over to him with a blank expression, "give thanks that they are. Otherwise I would not have intervened and you would currently be residing in the infirmary. There are those that view this as me taking mercy on you."
"Mercy," Jeffries scoffed.
Fiona began to walk away, "its true. I AM showing you mercy. And it would be unwise to make me rethink it."
Talfar wanted to say and do many things at that moment. However, he did not. The whistles and cat-calls hadn't stopped. By the time the kitchen had shut down for the night Talfar looked haggard and the stockings looked as if he had walked through a field of unkempt rose bushes. In the High Nobles' lounge, his entrance was noticed with silence. Heads that had turned to see who had entered quickly turned away. Talfar wanted to scream and throw things but figured that if he did Fiona would take immediate action, even though she was not in the room. Instead he simply went upstairs to his dorm room.
Phoebe sat on her throne. Battles had been searched for with no results. Both she and Daalumos had become accustomed to this. Sometimes there were so many battles raging they could barely keep track and other times nothing would happen for almost a month. They had enjoyed the evening's prayers from the Malzeek household and noticed that more had participated, making it stronger and more potent.
"Mistress," Daalumos called to catch her attention.
Phoebe's eyes had opened already, "yes. I felt it too. A God is approaching."
A moment later a lone male in battle garb entered through the darkened archway.
"Are you She," he asked.
Phoebe regarded him then answered, "I am Phoebe. The Nightmare Rider."
He nodded to her, "I am Rudianos. You felled my son."
"Do not insult me with a false display of paternal obligation. He was a tool to you. Nothing more than homage to yourself," Phoebe scoffed.
The War God glared at her, "you slight me girl. I would have you for less."
She had already been wearing her armor so simply took up her sword, "you could not lay claim to me on your best of days. Dare you to challenge me?"
Rudianos nodded, "of course. On the next moonrise. It would be pointless to make you fall if no one witnessed."
"Very well then. A duel of course between you and I. Following to the victor. Since you have named the time, I shall determine the place," Phoebe stated.
"Do so and find your doom there. I will take you, your following and your body's pleasures," Rudianos declared.
Phoebe laughed as she confronted him, "I will have your following, your wealth and your head."
"Thus is our duel pact," Rudianos declared.
Phoebe generated an image in the air of the place. Rudianos studied it then nodded and left. When his presence was no longer felt Daalumos laughed.
"You will face him on your consecrated ground. This should be interesting to say the least. Its been so long since you faced a God or Goddess," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe sat back down, "it matters not. He will fall to my sword."
The BloodLust chuckled, "such unshakable confidence. I think it may be infectious."
"That shall be a vote in my favor then. Now to gather the others," Phoebe commented and closed her eyes.
Daalumos knew what she was about to do and laughed.
She reached out to all connected to her and filled their minds with her image and voice.
" The faithful must gather upon my consecrated battleground. There I will remove any doubt of my power as your Goddess," Phoebe projected. She felt the presence of a witch nearby and could tell she knew of her. " Hear me witch. You have told other mortals of me. It is time you saw for yourself. Come to the appointed place for the battle."
That said she left their minds then eased into sleep.
Jessica sat at the breakfast table with four other princesses. She had already finished her meal and was drinking juice while helping two first year princesses with a question from class they didn't understand.
"Your Highness," the Headmaster interrupted.
Jessica stood up, "yes Headmaster?"
She noticed Lamia and Aruna standing close by and fidgeting.
"For some reason there are two women at the main door seeking your Highness, Duchess Monning and Lady Tuala. Follow me please," the Headmaster stated then led them out.
Moments later they reached the main entrance. Standing inside was the woman from the pastry shop and the old woman that had told them of the Nightmare Rider.
The shop owner curtsied, "I apologize my Ladies. She insisted she must see you immediately."
Jessica nodded to her with a smile then gently took the old woman's hands in her own, "Madam what is so important for you to come see us? Are you in distress of some kind?"
The crone smiled, "a different girl is before me than the one I told of the Nightmare Rider. Your heart has changed. I was visited by the Rider during the night. She commands us to gather as witnesses. The journey is far. I can not go there on my own."
Jessica was stunned. The old witch wanted to be taken to see the Nightmare Rider? She looked over to Aruna and Lamia. Lamia looked uncomfortable but the young Duchess looked excited.
"The Nightmare Rider is frightening. Are you certain that you should go to this place," Jessica asked.
The crone chuckled to the princess, "girl; one thing you should never do, is refuse the invitation when One such as Her does so personally! I expect quite the sight to see. A battle between a War God and the Nightmare Rider."
Jessica had to admit to herself, she had never seen such a thing before and the chance may never come again.
"Princess Weyden," the Headmaster spoke up. "If you and your friends go it would not be an excusable absence. I will not stop you though."
Jessica looked over at the two, "Lamia if you don't want to go, you don't have to. Aruna I know you do. I'll admit, this is a prospect I don't think should be passed over lightly. Madam I will escort you there. I will meet you at the main gate in a few minutes."
Duchess Aruna Monning smiled, "I will DEFINITELY be going along!"
The pastry shop owner nodded, "then I leave her in your care my Ladies. I'll walk back and leave her my horse."
The Headmaster nodded, "I'll see you both out."
Jessica turned to her friends, "Armor and arms. Meet at the gate in fifteen minutes. I need to talk to the Solos."
Fifteen minutes later the three girls rode up to the gate and met the old woman again. All three were in their armor with battle swords, carrying shields and lances.
"Apologies for the delay Madam. I thought it best to purchase information from the Solos. I've been allowed to rent a map from one. Please tell me where we need to go," Jessica asked.
The location was named. Jessica plotted a way and found that though it would normally take over a full day, there was a course that would get them there faster if they left immediately. They set up with Jessica in the lead. She had the old witch ride between Lamia and Aruna.
"Highness. Is this what it was like when you went on that assignment with Solo Fotens," Aruna giggled.
Jessica looked back and laughed, "in some ways. I will say though, I feel much more comfortable in my own armor!"
Jessica had chosen a very difficult route but it was much shorter. Other routes would have been easier to travel but they would have been punishing to the elderly woman. Not that their current route was easy, but it wasn't constantly brutal to her old body. Jessica used all the knowledge she had acquired on the trip with Patrick. It paid off. They were able to arrive just as the sun was setting. Many people had gathered already. One group stood out from the assembling crowd. They were flying twin banners.
"We must go over that way. I feel a touch of the Rider's power," the old woman told them.
They eased over to the group. Sitting atop a black horse with red markings was a little girl. She wore a black silk dress trimmed in red as well and a black cloak. Hanging at the horse's shoulder was a shield.
"Goddess Phoebe will win. She never loses," the little girl said to a young man that had bowed to her.
"Of course Mistress Sania. Your faith, as her WarPriestess, is strong. The Goddess will win," the young man smiled up to her.
Jessica asked, "Phoebe?"
Sania heard her, "our Goddess. Goddess Phoebe, the Nightmare Rider. I'm Sania her WarPriestess. Who are you?"
"I am Her Royal Highness Jessica Weyden, Princess of Lurbourg. With me are The Duchess Aruna Monning and Lady Lamia Tuala. We are escort to this Elder," Jessica smiled. "Hello WarPriestess Sania."
"Mama. How do I curtsy if I'm still on Lamudos," Sania asked a woman beside her.
The woman took note of Jessica's wink and smiled, "I think she would know best sweetheart. You should ask her very politely."
"Princess. How should I greet you the right way," Sania asked.
Jessica smiled to the child, "when you get bigger and can get up and down all by yourself it would be nice of you got down and curtsied. But for now what you can do is put your hand over your heart, bow and greet me by saying 'Your Highness'. Since you're a WarPriestess that's what a knight would do."
The little girl did so then smiled and turned to her mother, "I learned something new!"
"Very good," Celia reassured her then turned to Jessica. "Thank you Highness. I am curious as to why you're here. Do you follow Goddess Phoebe?"
"I'm here more out of curiosity. I was also asked personally, along with my friends, to escort an Elder from one of the towns close to the Academy," Jessica stated.
"You go to the Academy? The one that teaches how to be a knight? I'm going to go! Goddess Phoebe made sure," Sania said proudly.
Aruna Monning smiled, "we'll have graduated by that time but we'll probably hear about you. I'm Duchess Aruna Monning."
"I'm Lady Lamia Tuala. Pleased to meet you," Lamia said and smiled too.
Several people began to call out from across the field. A lone man stood in armor. Immediately chanting began.
"RUDIANOS! RUDIANOS! RUDIANOS! RUDIANOS!"
Sania's eyes closed then she quickly turned around and called out, "SHE'S COMING!"
The crowd parted as an unearthly shriek split the night, drowning out the chant. They all edged back as what appeared to be a carpet of darkness stretched back and a demon horse raced the length of it leaving a trail of burning hoof prints.
"The Nightmare Rider has come," crowed the old witch.
Phoebe and Daalumos tore past them all and erupted into the center of the field. She leaped from the BloodLust's back to land on her feet and charge the War-God drawing her sword. Rudianos drew his own sword and moved to meet her attack with a battle cry.
"THIS NIGHT WILL MARK YOUR END," Phoebe yelled as their swords clashed.
The Vulcan sword melted through the end of Rudianos' sword. He swung his shield up to block and a deep gouge marked the face of it. Phoebe stayed on the attack. In the crowd Sania carefully cut her left hand and let the blood drip to the ground.
"I give of myself to Her. I give my prayers to Her. I serve She who is my Goddess. I claim Her forever; Phoebe of Nightmares," Sania said squeezing her eyes tightly closed as she prayed.
Rudianos had no idea that he had been tricked so easily. The War-God had his followers on the opposite side of the field. Phoebe's bold attack on him, and previously killing the Demi-God had already planted fear. Her actions now fanned the spark of fear into flames of terror. Terror that she consumed and became even stronger, along with the prayers from her own followers and WarPriestess. The fact that the ground had been consecrated to her increased that. What was worse, Phoebe was using a mixture of two fighting styles. Techniques from the Underworld battles she had usurped and Mortal battles she had participated in.
Rudianos went quickly from defensive to disadvantaged in mere seconds. The more he defended, the more his shield suffered and would soon be destroyed. When he tried to attack, his sword was being taken away inch by inch. Another slash and his shield failed and burst into what looked like dust that faded away. Quickly Rudianos pulled out a war hammer and tried to attack with it only for it to burst apart with one slash. Phoebe was practically chasing him now as he tried to parry her attacks. Finally all he had left of the sword was the hilt which she slapped from his hand, scorching through the gauntlet.
The War-God dropped the useless sword remains and watched as she rammed the point of her sword through it then advanced again. Two arcing slashes and the breastplate of his armor shattered and he fell to his knees. His followers cried out in horror. Horror that only lent her more power as she swung her sword once more and the War-God Rudianos burst apart. She had broken his Divinity. To all his followers, she killed him. They all fell to their own knees and began pleading for mercy. Their fear spiked even higher now and flowed into her without any need to circulate it. It was raw and powerful. From the other side she was feeling the refined power of worship flowing into her, as did Daalumos.
"SERVE, OR FEAR ME," Phoebe called out.
The crowd scattered away in fear. Phoebe turned and walked back toward the crowd of her own followers to their cheers. Many kneeled before her as other bowed or curtsied. Even Jessica Weyden curtsied to her. Phoebe was not her Goddess, but that didn't mean she should not show respect to the Goddess.
Sania had been helped off her horse and rushed forward, "I knew you would win Goddess! I knew!"
"Of course you knew little one. One day, you too, will be victorious in battle," Phoebe stated loudly.
Daalumos had walked over and was regarding Sania's robotic horse.
"Good likeness little priestess. I am pleased," Daalumos said with a chuckle.
Sir Aldo steeped forward, "this young scribe here can also draw. He sketched your likeness as best he could so that the stable-mechanic would be able to attempt this. We hope you accept this as an honor to you and approve."
Many edged back and the BloodLust circled around, "hmm. This may be as close as can be. Mortal, I approve of this steed to carry the priestess."
"Thank you Demon," Sir Aldo bowed to the BloodLust.
Phoebe looked to the witch, "you have seen for yourself now."
The old woman nodded, "I have. You are indeed a Goddess as the spirits have told me. Your tale grows every day, Goddess Phoebe; the Nightmare Rider."
"Goddess. Since I will go to the Academy, shouldn't there be a place for me to pray there. Its far from home isn't it," Sania asked.
The old witch nodded, "you are her priestess. Only you may consecrate a place in her name child."
Jessica spoke up, "we are returning to the Academy. You and your family may ride with us. We will leave at first light."
"May we," Sania asked Tam Malzeek.
Tam nodded, "thank you Highness for the kind invitation. In return; you, your Ladies and Elder please be guests in our camp for the night."
They turned to see Phoebe settling herself on Daalumos' back.
"FAREWELL," Phoebe called out as Daalumos reared up then disappeared in a rush of flames.
The crowd slowly dispersed to the camps or return home. The new day would come soon.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 11 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Patrick sat at an empty table reading notices. Everyone else was talking about recent events. The emergence of a new Goddess was the main topic. The secondary topic was the punishment suffered by Jeffries Talfar. Two days dressed in a provocative costume to resemble a maid had been the idea of the head of Student Council; Countess Fiona Doucet. Rumor had it that she had entertained the idea of dressing him in something more compromising. There was no confirmation of that rumor though.
As for the future Duke, his disposition was returning to the way it had been. Well, with exception. Jeffries Talfar was staying clear of Solos. In fact, he was now giving them a very wide berth. He refused to even look directly at them, much less talk to any. Otherwise he was soon to reclaim the title of being the most insulting and abusive student in the Academy. Many of the Fourth year students were having fun at his expense though. Kiss noises and the occasional whistle. One or two strong Third years did the same. It had continued through the weekend but started to wane now that a new week had started.
The main topic of discussion among the Third years was the match between Solo Fotens and Princess Weyden that afternoon. Several passing by Patrick's table gave him silent encouragement. Others in support of Jessica were more vocal as they passed her.
Fiona stood up from her table and addressed the dining hall, "GOOD MORNING."
The talk quieted down and all the present students looked to the Countess.
"We have the start of a brand new week. One sure to start with excitement I've no doubt. This afternoon there is to be contest between two of the Third year class. I'm sure you already know who, but I'll just clear it up. The contest is between Princess Jessica Weyden and Solo Patrick Fotens. As exciting as that may be, its not until the afternoon so do focus on your respective lesson plans. Please respect the contestants, keep your encouragement in good taste. Or at least, keep it non-disruptive," Fiona advised then gathered up her breakfast tray to drop off at the window then leave but stopped at the doorway and looked back. "As for myself; I wish the both of them well."
Most of the assembled students stood and clapped looking to Jessica or Patrick. Some looked to both as they were not showing a favorite.
Jessica stood up and smiled, "thank you. I'll do my very best!"
Patrick looked around then gave a single nod. To the uninformed, it would appear that he was being nonchalant or dismissive. Most understood that he was simply giving subdued acknowledgement. Over the weekend he had taken receipt of a new Paladin model WarHorse. The stable mechanic had no trouble and had it tuned to Patrick's personal settings in a couple of hours. His campaign pack had arrived as well. It was the top pick for Solos; the Voyager set. In the pack was a medium tent with hardware. The tent came with a heater/stove that ran off a battery supply that recharged via a compact but high-output solar panel and a small wind generator. It could also recharge a horse as well.
The set included a sleep set; air mattress and insulated bag. Also a month of field rations along with a cookware set and water treatment. The final items were the five disassembled plasma lances. The Academy armorer had no problem assembling them and ensuring they were in working order and set to Patrick's specifications before disassembling them. His new armor, along with battle sword, would be arriving sometime that day.
Patrick and many others began to make their way out of the dining hall and a few moments later the bells chimed. Classes would be starting in a few minutes. The class of Third years quieted when Dame Ayalla entered the classroom.
"Good morning. Nice to have you back Princess Weyden, Duchess Monning and Lady Lamia. I hope your absence was educational," the instructor said firmly.
Jessica stood up, "If I'm brief may I address the class?"
Dame Ayalla nodded, "quickly Princess."
Jessica smiled, "Thank you. I'll hurry."
Quickly she went to the front of the class, "The three of us were absent to grant a request of a local towns'person. In short, we saw a battle between a God and a Goddess. We've learned that the mysterious person called the Nightmare Rider is actually a Goddess named Phoebe. She fought against a WarGod and defeated him. Phoebe is the Goddess of nightmares. The three of us met her WarPriestess. She and her family told us much on the way back to the Academy."
A hand went up immediately and Jessica called on them.
"Highness you said a God and Goddess. Are you certain they weren't Demi's," a Gentry girl asked.
Jessica nodded, "definitely. In fact the duel was because the Goddess Phoebe killed a Demi-God in battle. The God who sired him demanded retribution so challenged her to a duel. When she cut the God down, he burst into nothing. Its true she rides a demon. This Goddess Phoebe is the daughter of a God and a Goddess herself. As to exactly why she's been doing all the things we've heard about is still unknown. One thing is known, if she appears on your battlefield; RUN!"
"Unless you get a weapon from the Gods," Lord Phol Dariel chuckled.
Aruna Monning shook her head, "we saw her destroy three Divine objects with her sword!"
That got everyone's attention. Weapons made by the Gods were supposed to be indestructible. That they knew of. Apparently that was no longer true.
"So you mean even if a you manage to get your hands on a gift from the Gods, it won't matter at all," Phol asked in alarm.
Slowly Jessica nodded, "I've never seen anything like it. I've never HEARD of anything like it. A Demi using a gift to destroy a weapon made by a mortal yes. But to see a Goddess do that to a God is new to me! So my advice, as one who has seen her in combat, if she appears on your battlefield; RUN!"
With that Jessica returned to her seat. Dame Ayalla seemed to be digesting this new information. She had only heard the rider had been sighted again.
"Under the current circumstances I believe that to be sound advice. Thank you for sharing Princess. Unfortunately the absence was unexcused so you three will have to look after yourselves to prepare for the test at the end of the week. Let us begin with today's lesson," Dame Ayalla said.
The class settled down to begin. Two hours later they went to break then went to their next class until lunch.
Patrick went to the office to claim a package. It was the new armor. He took it to the Solos' WardRoom. However, he was detained. Jessica stopped him.
"Solo Fotens," Jessica called out." Is that the armor?"
Patrick nodded back, "so the tag says."
Jessica blinked, "oh. You haven't inspected it yet. Please bring any problem with it to me immediately. The contract is to be settled to your satisfaction. Without dispute. I'll not have otherwise."
"Sounds like you've been taught well," Patrick stated.
Jessica stood proudly, "my teacher is a prime example of professionalism and would expect nothing less from his student."
Patrick regarded her intently for a long and tense moment then said, "money well spent so far. Keep it so."
The Princess nodded as the Solo passed her. He continued to the WardRoom and set down the package then opened it. Piece by piece he laid out the new armor and inspected it. The Armorer had offered a reflective finish to the black and green pattern. Patrick declined for matte finish. He paid close attention to the shield. It had the capability of holding a clear film on its face that could contain a thin layer of water.
An old Solo trick was to cover the face of a shield with a clear film to contain a thin layer of water. The water would temporarily disapate the plasma from a lance. It was a trick that only worked once. Few that faced it survived to tell of its discovery. Patrick smiled to himself. During Tournament he would be allowed to wear his our armor and carry his own shield. He knew having a shield that could do this would be needed. If the lance was regulation then the shattering of it would conceal the splash of the water. If the lance was a battle lance then it would prove useless against him and be called into question. If that happened then the lance would be immediately be inspected and discovered. The rider would be found guilty of cheating.
Patrick knew that someone would try using a battle lance against him. A few coins per week to the stable hands kept him apprised of chatter. Sometimes names were provided, mostly only the conversation was gained. The Solo already knew that he was targeted. Jessica Weyden had been as well. It cost him ten coins to hear of it, ten coins that were repaid. Quickly he changed and attached his new armor. Patrick used the full mirror on the wall to visually inspect the set.
"New armor," Sir Belvin asked stepping inside.
Patrick nodded, "checking the fit."
The jousting instructor came over and began looking it over then tried to pull at the pieces. Patrick swayed at the rough handling.
"Looks like the connections are strong. Helmet," Sir Belvin asked.
Patrick went over and put on the helmet. Sir Belvin checked the connection of it then inspected the visor.
"Doesn't feel wrong," Patrick commented from inside.
Ren Belvin nodded, "good. Give me ten straddle hops."
Patrick performed the exercises then twisted, bent, crouched and walked around.
"Any shifting," Belvin asked.
"No. Its good," Patrick said, sounding like in a slight echo chamber.
Belvin nodded, "good. Brace."
Patrick adjusted his stance to prepare then signaled. Sir Belvin slammed into the Solo with his shoulder. Patrick staggered back two steps then signaled again. This was repeated twice more then Belvin stopped and checked selected pieces again.
"Well this set passes. Let's see the shield," Belvin stated.
Patrick pointed it out then began to remove the armor.
Belvin inspected the shield, "looks good. Hmmm. I've seen this before. This is a feature only found on shields for Solos. What is it?"
Patrick said nothing as he repacked the armor into its carry bag then took the shield and slid it into place as well.
"I see," Belvin remarked at his question not being answered.
Ren Belvin had learned with Solos and taught many after becoming the instructor, but some things still remained a mystery where they were concerned. Normally a Solo had no problem explaining why they did most things. That lent more credence to the fact that if they didn't answer a question, it should be dropped right then and there.
Belvin nodded, "all in all. A fine set of armor. The bells are about to ring."
Patrick noted the time and left. He had just enough time to get to his last indoor class before going to training, and the match with Jessica Weyden.
The stands had filled to more than had been when Patrick had the rematch against Lorenz. More than when Patrick first faced Jessica. In fact the crowd was three times previously seen. A crowd that roared as Jessica entered the arena riding Mars and raise her left arm in salute. It went to a fevered pitch when Patrick entered riding the new horse and saluted. He'd renamed his old horse to Eskeldar. The dull black Paladin model horse responded to Daemon. Both rode easily over to the middle of the lanes and faced each other. Her blue-hued silver armor shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun. His dull finish armor seemed to absorb all the light.
"Here we are again," Jessica said.
Patrick leaned forward slightly in nod, "yes. I have expectations Weyden. Daemon, battle."
Jessica gave a nod as well, "I do as well Solo Fotens. I am not about to go with less than full measures. You are the most formidable opponent I know of. I can't afford to spare an inch when it comes to you. Mars, battle."
They saluted each other then turned and went to their starting points. Patrick closed his visor then gripped his shield and took the first lance. At the other end, Jessica slowly did the same. She shifted to settle into her saddle then raised her lance up as did Patrick to signal they were ready. The official went to the middle point and held out the flag. The stands went quiet.
"Official contest between Weyden and Fotens," Sir Belvin announced.
The Official checked both sides then raised the flag up and ran clear, "GO!"
Mars lunged forward and began his run down the lane. Jessica sat straight in her saddle, shield flat to her body and lance slightly forward of her line. Patrick had Daemon break from his stand-still and race towards her. The Solo held his shield tilted forward and inward with his lance even with his line. The stands were cheering them on as the riders closed on each other.
"Make it count," Jessica said to herself.
Contact was made. Jessica adjusted at the last second to aim just off-center to the left for her lance. As his lance hit her shield she leaned back and angled her shield in. Patrick's lance broke and glanced back between the lanes. Jessica's lance snapped at the tip, slid across to the far outside. The shaft stopped sliding when it hit her own shield and braced. The result went exactly as she had hoped. Patrick was effectively being clothes-lined and flung from his saddle. A long heartbeat later Patrick hit the sand as the stands roared in excitement.
Jessica rode to the end of the lane and doubled back holding the broken lance high to the loud cheers. Patrick spent no time getting to his own feet and was remounting Daemon as she passed. An assistant had come out to help but hadn't made it mid-way before Patrick was already climbing back into his saddle. He'd never lost his shield the whole time. Patrick saluted, indicating he was fit to continue and returned to the starting point after exchanging lances.
Up in the stands Vaan Arento chuckled, "I wonder who was more surprised that worked? Fotens or Jessica herself?"
"She's become more adventurous. Of course she knows she has to take risks when up against someone like him. This truly has gotten interesting," Fiona remarked as she clapped.
Down in the arena the assistant handing Jessica a new lance smiled, "very well done Princess! That was quite risky, but it paid off."
Jessica took the lance, "have to take risk if you want reward. Thank you."
She snapped her visor down and moved to the starting point. Patrick was already waiting. The Official came out and checked both sides then held his flag ready. The cheering went down a notch, but didn't stop.
"GO," the Official yelled and ran clear with his flag high.
Daemon bolted forward and tore down the lane. Patrick settled in and rode leaned forward in his saddle, shield angled inward and lance slightly forward of his line. Jessica had launched Mars forward as well then rode straight but turned outward with her lance held just back from her line.
Jessica held steady as Mars raced down her lane, "he won't fall for it twice."
The last strides forward Patrick had Daemon shorten his stride and at the contact point spurred him to surge forward with a powerful lunge. He had pulled the lance back then thrust it hard just left of center of her shield. Jessica had begun twisting back inward when she saw his lance pull back. Her eyes widened to realize he tricked her as the lance came back faster than it retreated. The sudden move took the princess completely by surprise. The loud clash almost drowned out the stands as Patrick's lance slammed her shield and shattered. Jessica found herself catapulted back and hit the sand solidly.
Up in the stands Lorenz Dante winced, "she's definitely going to feel that later."
Nia had been holding Lorenz' hand and asked, "I hate to say it, but that hit looked harder than any you took. I mean, it probably wasn't. The princess is lighter than you and Solo Fotens so the effect looks worse I guess."
"Well they're even right now. One for one. I'd say this match is a bigger deal than the one with me," Lorenz Dante said then softly to his girlfriend. "At least she learned something since then."
Together they watched the arena below. Jessica had gotten to her feet then saluted. She gathered up her shield and lance then went over and remounted Mars with a quick salute to Patrick as he passed by. Both rode back to their ends and exchanged lances then moved to the starting points as the Official took his place at the middle. He checked each then held the flag out.
"GO," the Official yelled and ran clear.
The horses bolted into high speed runs. Patrick sat leaning slightly forward, shield angled down and lance slightly forward of line. Jessica rode slightly back with her shield tilted back and in. Her lance was held even of line. As contact was made she threw herself forward in the saddle and aimed just below center of Patrick's shield. Patrick had aimed above and left of center. The results were spectacular as the crowd watched both lances shatter in the clash. Patrick had felt himself lifted and pushed to the edge of his saddle and Jessica was pushed almost flat to the back of her horse.
The stands erupted with cheers and whistles. As the two riders doubled back they both saluted each other. Jessica discarded the lance, signaled for water and flipped up her visor.
"Ow. THAT didn't work the way I thought it would," Jessica remarked loudly to herself then took a long drink from the bottle.
The assistant took the bottle back, "not a bad idea though. It might work on someone else so I wouldn't toss it out."
"Right. I'll keep it in mind," Jessica replied then snapped her visor back down and took the new lance.
Slowly Mars walked over to the starting position. Daemon had already taken position and Patrick waited calmly. Jessica thought hard with her mind racing. She was trying not to feel intimidated by his imposing figure then thought to herself that had he been wearing his regiment colors he would be even more intimidating. Mentally she shook that off.
"He's heavier than me. More skilled. I need to hit harder without losing my lance," Jessica muttered to herself.
The cheering from the stands was steady but divided. The Official checked both sides. Patrick signaled his readiness. Jessica made her decision and signaled her own.
"GO," the Official yelled above the din and ran clear.
Daemon bolted and ran down the lane. Patrick rode straight in his saddle, shield flat and lance even with his line.
"He's just going to hammer me down," Jessica said aloud and adjusted in the saddle to lean forward and angle her shield down. She extended her lance forward of her line and braced tight to herself.
They reached the middle and made contact. Patrick angled his shield inward and up and braced his lance to himself aiming below center. Jessica aimed above center this time. The tip of Jessica's lance burst apart and went over his shoulder. Patrick's lance shattered as it picked her up and threw her back.
"OH!" the crowd in the stands called out.
Though short, Jessica's flight was quite the sight with a landing that was very solid.
"PRINCESS! COME ON PRINCESS!" Many in the stands cheered to urge her up. Others were stomping and clapping in support.
Slowly Jessica rolled over pulled her knees under herself then pushed upright. An assistant ran over and checked on her.
"Highness are you alright? Are you fit," he asked.
Jessica laughed inside her helmet and flipped up the visor, "now THAT was a solid hit! I am fit thank you."
The cheering went out louded when she saluted then salute Patrick as well when he rode by. She remounted Mars and took her shield and broken lance. Jessica rode back to her end and discarded the lance.
"That was some hit Princess," the assistant with the water bottle remarked as she drank.
Jessica handed it back, "well if I am to be unhorsed. I hope it looked magnificent."
She chuckled, "certainly! Like an eagle struck by lightening."
Jessica took the new lance, "oh good! I'd hate to resemble a rag doll flung aside."
The assistant shook her head, "oh you're the epitome of grace. Though I'm starting to wonder if he hit you too hard. Are you fit?"
Jessica smiled and snapped the visor down, "definitely fit."
Mars was ridden over to the starting position and Jessica settled into her saddle. Carefully she thought. How could she take him down? Finally she decided and signaled readiness. The Official had been waiting at the middle and held out his flag. The stands went dead quiet.
"GO!" The Official yelled and ran clear.
Mars lunged forward and tore down the lane. Jessica resettled fast then angled her shield back and inward. She would aim just left above center and bracing the lance tight to herself. Daemon had jumped forward then took stride racing for the opposite end. Patrick rode straight in his saddle with his shield flat and lance even with his line. Once again Daemon's stride was shortened as they closed then lunged at the moment of contact as Patrick threw himself forward. Shield angled down and he thrust the lance at her shield aiming below center. The lances struck and shattered. Patrick was turned in his saddle while Jessica found herself being launched out of hers.
The crowd in the stands gasped as Jessica landed in a heap on the sand. The assistants and Sir Belvin ran out to the downed princess. They joined a moment later by Patrick.
Sir Belvin flipped up Jessica's visor, "Princess? She's out."
One of the assistants reached into a pouch and pulled out and ampule and handed it to the instructor. Sir Belvin cracked it and waved under Jessica's nose. The pungent odor stirred her.
"Come on Weyden. Enough laying around," Patrick remarked.
Jessica winced and groaned, "that hurt. Owwww."
Belvin asked, "can you move everything Highness?"
"I think so. Yes," Jessica said then reached up.
Patrick grabbed her hand and slowly hauled her to her feet, "you're done Weyden. That was three."
Jessica frowned as she finally steadied herself, "It was three? Damn."
"Highness go get checked out. You look like Fotens rung your bell but go make sure that's all," Sir Belvin instructed her then turned to the stands. "THIRD LANCE TO SOLO FOTENS, THE WINNER! A GREAT SHOWING BY PRINCESS WEYDEN."
The stands clapped and cheered. Some whistled. The jousting instructor raised his hands to call them down and the stands went quiet to hear him.
"That is the last of the official matches. Tournament selection will be posted in two weeks. For now will be individual training. Any personal duels are disallowed until after Tournament. That's it. Done for the day," Sir Belvin called out to dismiss them.
Slowly the stands started to empty. Students were discussing the match and their thoughts of the techniques used by each rider. Duchess Aruna Monning and Lady Lamia Tuala rushed down to meet Jessica before she left. Aruna was given permission for Mars and Lamia went to the Royals' WardRoom for Jessica's clothes. Both would meet her at the trainer's office where she would be looked over carefully. Fifteen minutes later Jessica was cleared and went to the WardRoom to shower and change then rest.
Vaan Arento smiled to Fiona, "it looks like Jessica is extremely lucky. If she hadn't bought out the contract I don't think she'd be able to cope after this afternoon."
"Lucky is an understatement Vaan. I'm glad I was watching, but now I have concerns for myself. Fotens is strong and skilled. The Princess took him by surprise on the first lance. I've no doubt that he'll be watching for it again," Fiona said firmly.
The normally flamboyant prince nodded, "we BOTH should be concerned. I can afford to come in second place. YOU can not. And after that business with Jeffries Talfar, rest assured he definitely intends to make sure you're brought down. I've no doubt that he has plans for Fotens as well. More than likely; brutal plans."
Fiona sighed, "if he didn't before; he is making those plans now. Somehow though Fotens has been able to keep up with Jeffries."
"I'm curious as to how. Fotens must have an informer or two," Vaan chuckled.
"That's another thing. Solos have always stayed one step ahead of serious trouble here at the Academy. My predecessor had his suspicions that there may be a network established in the Academy that attending Solos have some access to," Fiona confided.
Vaan Arento studied his friend intently, "you'd like to make use of it as well."
The Countess laughed, "who wouldn't? Mostly I'm curious as to the truth of it. If there is such a network exclusively for Solos then so be it. The need for such a system is valid. It keeps the Solos outside the normal politics and exploitation. Its just that some things should be brought to the attention of the student president."
"But to do so would reveal the network and possibly destroy it. Who knows how long its been there and just how extensive it really is. I would venture that such had cost several thousands of coin just to establish years ago. To replace it would cost at least a hundred times that," Vaan speculated.
Fiona arched an eyebrow at the statement.
Vaan sipped his water, "my Grandfather told me a story once. After he graduated he did a bit of wandering before going home. Of course he had made an enemy or two here along with some friends. He managed to plant a person into each of his enemies household during his break. For ten years nothing of consequence came from those spies. One day a messenger came, grandfather's rival was going to lay siege to a House. This House belonged to a lower noble that was in a class behind him and grandfather at the Academy."
"Juicy story. Tell me more," Fiona smiled.
"Late that night Grandfather heard from his spy in the rival's House. A deal had been struck between the two. In return for luring Grandfather into a trap, a family debt would be removed," Vaan told her.
Fiona leaned forward listening raptly, "so what happened?"
The Prince smiled wickedly, "he hired three regiments of Solos and basically slammed both armies from four sides. Both houses were pretty much toppled and no longer exist. The titles remain, but are held by other families now with no connection to the previous."
"Nice story. I like it. Well as much as I would like to just sit here," Fiona stood up. "My day is far from over."
Vaan smiled as the Countess left.
Phoebe stepped into the darkened room, "did you enjoy the show?"
"I'm surprised she got the better of you on the first run," Daalumos commented.
Phoebe took her place on her throne, "it was a clever move. She tried another but it wouldn't work on my Glamoured form. She should have enough points for selection though. I saw the new temple is well underway. What have you discovered."
"Something ironic. Rudianos had to have been the most destitute War-God ever. He had no holdings on any other plane and spent all of his time on this plane. Any offerings he had received went to the expenses of the three temples in his name," the BloodLust informed her.
Phoebe shook her head, "that's not ironic; its depressing. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not a Goddess of luck. We'll simply have to let the matter pass. He has nothing left worth taking. It will take at least a millennium of constant worship just to conjure a base existence for him. None of his followers believe in him anymore. His religion will die out. If it hasn't already."
Daalumos tossed his head, "I felt power waning from the temples."
Phoebe nodded. It was easy to feel the power of worship. Unless it was for them though, they couldn't tap that power. Much like the same way they detected Divine offspring. As for mortals, only the very magically gifted could detect the presence of a deity. Such as the local witch that had also been present at the duel. When Phoebe and Daalumos first scouted the village they had felt her presence and began suppressing their own. Now it had become force of habit. The house itself had become a blank spot due to a series of charms that surrounded it. Essentially only a God or Goddess could find them. It was how they had remained undisturbed for this long. Another charm by the front door simply gave off a feeling of unease to any mortals that blundered upon the house.
Phoebe settled back and closed her eyes. Daalumos could feel she was not searching. He knew she was resting and went to sleep as well.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 12 of
The Nightmare Rider |
It was the first morning of the final weekend of the month. Patrick walked into the Academy wearing his new uniform in the colors of the Eighty-Sixth Regiment. There were no classes and many of the students who were from close by actually went home on the weekends. For the most part the rest looked after themselves. They either cooked for themselves or in groups for meals. Others simply went into either of the two villages. There was usually a gap between those that took their breakfast inside and the exodus to the villages. It was that gap that was so important.
Patrick turned down a side corridor and entered the second room on the right. He crossed to the wall of miniature shields. Each one embossed with the colors and number of a Solo Regiment. It was the shield for the Nineteenth Regiment that he pressed. Everyone had been convinced that the Nineteenth was one of the regiments that provided protection for entertainers. For most part that was true. Two platoons did exactly that. The other platoons however, did not. They originated from members of the First, Second, Sixth and Tenth Regiments. The real purpose of those two platoons were the carefully guarded secret. They were essentially the Internal Affairs units. Investigation and action. If Solos committed offenses or had offenses committed against them, the Third and Fourth platoons of the Nineteenth Regiment dealt with it.
Pressing that shield released a catch and a hidden doorway swung inward. Patrick stepped in and closed the door behind him. The door concealed a stairway. Patrick walked up the stairs and knocked on the door then entered. Inside was a long table with several students seated in various colored uniforms.
"I got a late start," Patrick remarked as he went over and took a seat.
"You're in time. We were just about to start," the young man seated at the head of the table then addressed the group. "All in attendance."
He wore the colors of the First Regiment. Everyone knew his name, Doril Hunley. A rarity among them, having both parents not only Solos, but Solos of the same regiment. They began with contracts that were open, closed and pending. The discussion went on to cover any delinquent accounts then grievances. Such was the majority of the meeting. Finally the young man at the head of the table took out ten coins and placed them in front of him. The rest did the same.
"One of the assistants for Tournament has been bribed to supply tainted bottles of water to all Solos participating," Doril stated then looked to the right.
Goron Favell a Fourth year of the Twenty-second regiment stated, "six lances have been ordered in the Academy scheme from a local dealer. Purchaser is not an Academy student or staff."
"Medical records were broken into and fifty files were noted to be inspected," Danze Marow; a 4th year girl from the Fifty-Fifth Regiment informed them.
Bron Zako of the Forty-first regiment was the last Fourth year of the Solos and told them, "the WardRoom is no longer secure. Someone has gone through all the armor closets."
Patrick spoke up, "the stable has had disturbances. Possible that horses will be sabotaged."
The rest had little bits, but still of note. Hensee Rassan; no affiliation Third year, Jen Siva: a Second year girl of the Nineteenth regiment. Timmerlain Voklien; a Second year with no affiliation. Kyl Borkor of the Twenty-Eighth regiment in his Second year along with Lorne Del Thirty-Seventh regiment. Milos Arenlon; a First year with no affiliation sat beside Bess Ginaar. She was also was in her First year with no affiliation. Across from them sat Rositor Jazorr who like them had no affiliation. Urick Wordine sat in the last chair. He was from the Sixth Regiment in his First year. Those were all the Solos currently enrolled in the Academy.
"So in short there are definitely nasty plans for the Tournament. We already know that all Solos, Vaan Arento, Jessica Weyden, Fiona Doucet have been targeted. Anything else," Doril asked.
Jen Siva frowned, "nothing definitive but one of the Dining servers was heard to say that soon she would have enough money to leave and gave a time after Tournament. The source of the money was not revealed so either she may have been bribed or she intends to wager on the outcome. If not both."
"That's not enough. We need to know more," Hensee Rassan stated. "Gambling is allowed. Placing the wager using information of wrong-doing is another matter. The staff here probably do have favorites chosen already for private wagers. Certainly with their experience they would do well at the booths."
Doril Hunley nodded, "yes. They would be able to make good wagers. I agree though, more information needs to be obtained. The main issue here is: are all these moving pieces connected? If so; is this a ploy by an element within or without the Academy?"
"A group outside the Academy could be making some of the moves for gambling purposes," Danze Marow remarked.
Patrick shook his head, "that wouldn't explain the events within the Academy or the order for lances. I believe these are the concerted actions of one person within the Academy."
"You mean Jeffries Talfar," Goron Favell said pointedly. "There is basis. Talfar has substantial gains riding on the outcome. Personal for himself and business for the father. Targeting us is no surprise though, he's never regarded Solos highly. Especially you Fotens, due to recent events."
Everyone chuckled at that.
Doril finished making notes in the book in front of him, "either way we need more to go on. Reconvene next Saturday. Until then, if you do NOT have your own armor I suggest you obtain a set and keep it under your exclusive control. Also the day before Tournament, remove your horse from the stable, have it examined and stored securely."
A box was moved from one Solo to the next, each dropped ten coins slowly into it through a slot. When it returned to Doril he took it over to small opening and set it inside and closed a door. A few moments later he opened the door and took out the box and set it back on the table after shaking it. The box was empty. It was a practice that had been going on since Solos began attending the Academy. They would all pay to exchange information and the payment went into a special fund for future Solos to attend the Academy. After that they all adjourned one by one.
Jessica nodded back with a smile to those that recognized her and gestured their respect. She, Aruna Moning and Lamia Tuala were wandering through the village. The princess had hurried her two friends so that they would start their day with breakfast in a cafe. Now the three friends were simply wandering about. A group of little girls had seen the trio and took it upon themselves to accompany them.
"Well now. Since we have such fine escorts and guides we should make sure they've been taken care of," Aruna smiled and nodded to a display of flowers in front of a shop.
"So true," Jessica smiled back then called inside. "Florist?"
A middle-age woman came out, "yes? Oh! Your Highness, my Ladies. How may I help you?"
Jessica looked to a basket of grey-like roses then counted the children before telling her, "it seems our escort is unarmed."
The woman nodded to Jessica's wink then gathered up the appropriate number of blooms and passed them to her, "certainly Highness. We definitely can't let that continue."
Jessica divided the flowers to Aruna and Lamia then gave one each to the the girls closest to her. Each one smiled, thanked them and tried their best to curtsy.
Jessica took coins from her belt purse and passed them to the florist, "there now. All taken care of. My thanks for such splendid arms for our contingent."
"Happy to provide your Highness. My Ladies," she replied with a quick curtsy.
The girls walked happily around trio now and chattered about each shop or cart they passed. Several other students waved or simply nodded as the group passed them by. Eventually they stopped in front of building under construction.
"That's a new temple," one of the girls announced proudly.
Another nodded, "its for a Goddess."
"Is it for the Goddess named Phoebe? The Nightmare Rider," Aruna asked.
Several looked up in surprise, "you KNOW her?"
Lamia nodded, "we've seen her."
"Is it true? Did she really kill a God," the girl by Jessica asked.
"That's what it looked like to us. It was quite a sight," Jessica replied.
The girl standing by Lamia shook her head, "I wouldn't want to see her. I'm scared of nightmares."
Jessica crouched down to her level, "yeah. She looked scary to us to too. Beautiful, but scary."
"Really Princess," another girl asked. "How can she be pretty and scary at the same time?"
Jessica stood up and took the little girl's hand in her own. Together they led the rest over to a stone bench. Jessica, Aruna and Lamia sat down.
"Well its like this," Jessica began to explain. "Not everything scary is ugly and not everything pretty is nice. Like DarkShade. The flowers are really pretty, but if you smell it too much or taste it, it can hurt you."
Aruna nodded, "exactly. And Demon Finger. Its got thorns and stinks really bad but if done right, it makes a medicine that cures really bad headaches."
The handful of girls began to nod, such examples did make sense to them. Many young girls encountered DarkShade. Most merely experienced violent sneezing and minor nose-bleeding. The pollen was the poison, any ingested caused major problems. The pollen would eat away at the inside of the mouth, throat and stomach. Constant sniffing of the flowers did the same to the nose and lungs. It was one of the first lessons girls learned. Never grab anything off the stove and never play with DarkShade flowers.
Lamia giggled, "our student council president is pretty and some times scary too."
"What about him," one of the girls asked and pointed to the street.
They all looked and saw Patrick Fotens walking down the street.
Aruna purred, "oh he is DEFINITELY very nice to look at. When he isn't taking you or a friend off their horse!
"Don't I know it," Jessica frowned.
The girls all looked at her in shock and one asked, "he took you off your horse Princess?"
Jessica nodded, "yes he did. Solo Patrick Fotens is very skilled and strong. He will certainly be in the Tournament. If I am in then I'll have to face him again."
"Are Solos nice," the girl next to Jessica asked.
"Solos aren't nice or mean. They only do their job. When you get older you'll understand better. Solos only do what they are hired to do. Someone wiser than I once said, 'If you want truth seek a philosopher. If you want fact, seek a teacher. If you want warriors that will never betray you, pay the Solos.' Its very true," Jessica told her.
Lamia arched an eyebrow, "that's fairly deep. Who said that?"
"Vaan Arento," Jessica chuckled.
"PRINCE VAAN," Aruna and Lamia asked at the same time.
"IN THE FLESH," Vaan Arento proclaimed then looked at the group. "Oh MY! A bevy of beauties before me! Wherever and whomever shall I start with?"
He stepped closer and went to one knee then took each girl's hand and kissed it, "Vaan Arento. Prince of Scavlic and so very pleased to meet you!"
Aruna and Lamia stood up and curtsied, "your Highness."
Vaan flashed them a dazzling smile and kissed their hands as well, "Duchess Aruna. Lady Lamia. Always a pleasure! I dare say this is quite interesting. I've never seen such an adorable entourage before."
One girl looked up at him and asked shyly, "are you really a prince? You're pretty. Why is your hair like a girl?"
Vaan stroked his long hair that had a small braid down the back, woven with ribbons, "oh dear. I've done it again haven't I Jessica?"
"Anything else would be unusual," Jessica giggled.
Aruna and Lamia nodded their own agreement as they too, giggled. Vaan sighed dramatically then sat down next to Jessica.
"I suppose I really am hopeless about these things. If it weren't for you and Fiona I imagine I'd look quite the spectacle," Vaan said to Jessica giving her a soulful look and leaning closer.
"Any other girl would be blushing furiously," Jessica said then playfully pushed him back. "I, however, am immune."
The flamboyant prince finally laughed, "indeed you are Jessica! Now what fun have I discovered here?"
Jessica nodded to the building under construction, "that new temple. Its for that Goddess Phoebe, the one known as the Nightmare Rider."
"Ah, yes. Serious business. She is not one to trifle with. I heard the three of you saw her up close. Right now I'm more interested in how you are feeling. You were quite clever on your first run but Solo Fotens won out in the end," Vaan commented.
Everyone was now paying attention.
"His skills are almost insanely good. I'm just glad I," Jessica caught herself then finished. "I didn't make the mistake of a second personal match."
The prince knew she almost slipped to say that she had bought out the liaison contract. He knew that she wasn't aware he knew about it. Better that he didn't admit it either.
"Well with his experience its only natural to be concerned," Vaan remarked.
Aruna gawked, "his experience? Just how well do you know Solo Fotens?"
Vaan looked like he had been caught between two romantic rivals, "I might have gotten a peek at his record."
Jessica glared, "your HIGHNESS."
"Alright. I got a look. His record is impeccable. Never defeated in battle. And he's been in over sixty battles. In short, he's the most formidable Solo of his age. Actually, he has even me worried. As if that wasn't enough. At least with him, its because he's that good!"
Jessica understood exactly what he just implied. Without specifically saying it, he said that someone in the Tournament was worthy of worry, and not because they had the skills. They would be using underhanded tactics. The prince's statement wasn't lost on Aruna or Lamia either.
Just as quickly though Vaan's whole demeanor shifted, "Now then. Such lovely ladies here. I'm inspired to dance!"
He stood up and smiled to the nearest girl, took her hands gently and began to slowly teach her how to dance. Soon he switched to another girl, giving the basics of the dance before moving on to another. Jessica and her two friends found themselves drawn in and dancing with the girls too to teach them. Aruna Moning, being the social butterfly, turned out to be the better dancer of the three. That was how they spend the rest of the morning until slipping away for lunch at a cafe.
Phoebe sat on her throne and spoke to Daalumos, "that was an informative meeting."
"You have come to enjoy this facade's lifestyle. Is it because they are so similar to ourselves," the bound demon asked.
"Yes actually. Of all the mortals we have encountered, I understand Solos the best. They are the least complicated," Phoebe stated.
Daalumos tossed his head, "it does seem that they are the more sensible of the mortals. Not concerning themselves with most of the foolishness that so many do. I do wonder how long we will be able to continue our activities before your father finally takes notice."
"The longer we stay away from the Underworld and out of dreams; the longer we go undetected. As long as we are not setting out punishment; we go unnoticed by my mother as well," Phoebe stated.
The BloodLust now understood, "it is your father only that you intend to usurp."
"We'll be fine as long as Barbatos does not become curious about either of us," Phoebe said intently.
Daalumos nodded, "the Duke will not lie if he is asked. Even if a mortal conjures him. He would be beheld to the terms of the conjuring. It is not He I have concern with. Bael is the concern."
"The Demon King of the east region of Underworld. His kingdom borders Tartarus belonging to Hades and Irkalla ruled by Ereshkigal. How many legions does he command," Phoebe asked.
"Sixty-six demon legions. My power can frenzy them, but he can still direct them. Even with your sword, we would be overwhelmed. Our power is not strong enough. Yet," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe nodded, "then we will be patient. Our legend is growing. We are gaining followers and temples."
The bound Demon laughed, "if we continue as we have been, it will not take us a thousand years like your father did!"
Phoebe shrugged, "I sure hope NOT!"
Fiona Doucet sat at her desk looking at the plain envelope. She had found it sitting there waiting for her. Finally she opened it.
It has become known that during Tournament certain competitors will be provided with tainted water bottles.
"Thanks for the tip whoever you are. Very smart to have it printed instead of written," Fiona remarked then reached into a drawer and took out a pencil. Over a scrap of paper she scraped the lead to make a dust then blew gently onto the page. Nothing appeared. With a sigh of resignation she took the page and envelope and put them into a file in the bottom drawer then locked it. The drawer had many files, all marked by the year. They all had the same thing in common, anonymous notes to prevent serious wrong-doing in the Academy.
Fiona spoke out the words as she wrote a letter of her own, "Headmaster, I believe it may be in the best interest for the Tournament competitors to provide their own food and especially drinks for the day. Sincerely, Student Council President, Fiona Doucet; Countess of Sparzo."
She sealed it in an official envelope then dropped it off through the slot in the Headmaster's door. The Countess turned and walked back to the corridor and began to walk back toward the dorms.
"AH FIONA," a familiar voice called out.
Fiona smiled and turned back, "Hi Vaan."
At a glance she could tell her friend was in an exceptionally good mood.
"Alright, tell. Very few things could have you so bubbly," Fiona remarked. "What have you been doing now?"
The prince smile and waved a pink rose, "I've spent a greater part of the day in wonderful company! Oh an Jessica Weyden, Duchess Moning and Lady Lamia were there too."
Vaan took her hand in his and began to promenade her down the corridor, "dear Fiona I had such a LOVELY time! You, of course, missed out. I'll be happy to regale you!"
The prince then swept in front of her and led her into twirl past himself. Fiona posed then spun back in to him and together they stepped forward in lock. Another turn and they stepped back to continue down the corridor side by side. Vaan led with her actually being a quarter-step forward of himself. One would think it would be the opposite. They'd be wrong. Were they not in physical contact then the royal or higher noble would lead. When in physical contact, as they were, etiquette dictated the lady be place slightly ahead of the gentleman. The reason behind that being, the lady was being presented as she was usually unknown at large.
The levity of the moment caught up to Fiona and she couldn't resist laughing. A minute later they were back in her office and sat on the sofa.
"Its so good to hear your laugh. Its so rare Fiona," Vaan commented.
Fiona went over and made a pot of hot water then came back to pour them both a cup of tea, "that's not true. I do laugh frequently."
The prince wagged a finger at her, "no you don't. You are referring to that token you give. I'm referring to your real laugh. Not in amusement, in pleasure. Please don't deny it. Even if just for a moment, you were happy."
"Yes Vaan. I was happy. For those moments you helped me forget. Thank you for that gift," Fiona smiled to her friend.
Vaan patted her hand, "you're quite welcome. Now, as to your question. I was wandering about the village and ran into Jessica and her two friends. They were entertaining quite an adorable entourage. Since I heard Jessica quoting myself, naturally I had to step in."
"Naturally," the Countess chuckled.
"Of course! Under my expert teaching the girls learned how to dance for a ball. I'm certain several of them shall grow up to be rather sought after. Each one a future heart-breaker," Vaan smiled in self-satisfaction.
Fiona shook her head, "how shameless of you. I'm sure you had them all eating out of hand in seconds."
Vaan smiled, "on the contrary my charming Countess. I found myself wrapped around their little fingers and treated them not only to lunch, but also a stop at the confectioners! Then I personally escorted each and every one of them safely home. I had a grand time. You would have as well."
"Well that does sound fun. I'm glad to hear about it since I couldn't be there," Fiona smiled then frowned. "I'm glad I ran into you. I've learned something very disturbing. I've suggested to the Headmaster that on the day of the Tournament that all the competitors supply their own food and drink for the day. I'm concerned about sabotage."
Vaan sighed, "you are not the only one. I saw three Solos at a private stable. They were reserving stalls for their horses and state that others would be doing so as well. I think you may have right about them knowing things."
"Without a bloody sword, its all just hearsay and suspicion. I can't deny though, if Solos are moving their horses out. They are convinced of sabotage and are covering themselves. We should as well. I'd like to warn others," Fiona admitted. "The problem is; who would be safe to warn?"
"You warn the Headmaster Fiona. Even if you had a bloody sword. You go to the Headmaster. He will deal with things," Vaan stated.
Fiona sighed, "very well. I'll speak to him first thing in the morning."
"That's the thing to do Fiona. Just do that. It will be enough," Vaan said then patted her hand and left.
Fiona sighed at the closed door and whispered to herself, "I was so cheated for missing that party years ago."
The Headmaster held up the letter, "I take it the Solos know more than they are telling?"
The woman dressed as a Maid nodded, "they do."
"let me guess; They have enough to cover themselves, but not enough for action. Nothing definitive," the Headmaster asked.
She stood firmly, "correct."
The Headmaster set several coins on his desk toward her, "will you look into it."
The Maid reached over and took the coins, "yes."
"Once again, I'm glad you've been here Captain. I'm sure your successor will be quite the professional," the Headmaster stated.
The Maid nodded and left.
"The successor is probably my secretary this time. The Nineteenth Regiment would do that just because they could," The Headmaster said to himself then secured his office to leave.
Walking to the cottage he shared with his wife, the Headmaster thought back to his first day as Headmaster. Twenty-two years ago he was just finishing the day when his office door opened and a nurse stepped inside.
"I'm know I'm new, but shouldn't you knock before entering any office," He asked.
She said nothing but showed him the necklace pendant with the crest of the Nineteenth Regiment then a contract. For the next half hour she briefed him on her duties. Essentially she was a Captain of the Fourth platoon, Nineteenth FreeLancers Regiment. Her duties were simple, investigate any illicit activities concerning Solos in the Academy. Her presence and mission were not to be disclosed to anyone other than the Headmaster. Her tenure lasted another two years before she was replaced by a teaching assistant. Every eight years a new Captain presented herself to him. Each would have a different position and had been interviewed by the appropriate staff supervisor. Usually they had already been working for some time before revealing themselves to him. Its was just another side to the mysterious world of Solos.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 13 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Patrick stood just outside the door of the Solo Registry looking at the boards for local information. The one on the left featured assignments, the right held advertisements. The top of the boards were time sensitive and the bottom half were long-term. Like all previous Solos attending the Academy, he had rented a box. In the box were daily notices and any specific advertisements along with direct communication messages. Patrick had already collected from his box and now checked over the boards. The stable he had visited yesterday, along with a couple of other Solos, didn't bring good news. The Stable owner had told them that four days before Tournament he would change his rates because of all the visitors. They wanted a stable that they could all use and station a guard or two.
After sitting at one of the cafes to eat for appearances he began his search. He bypassed the other two large stables and the boarding houses. Instead he set out for the outskirts. He was riding Eskeldar. Daemon was currently being kept at the Academy still. Having two horses made things easier for the moment. One in view, one out. Soon they would be switched. After four tries he was successful. An old woman had a barn big enough for the Solos' horses. Though only the Fourth and Third years would be competing, all fourteen Solos would stable their horses together. She even agreed to keep the arrangement secret for an additional fee.
Miren Senun had been living alone for some time. The spring and summer weren't very difficult as she maintained a garden big enough for herself with some extra to sell in the village. The winter on the other hand was always difficult. The money Patrick promised the Solos would pay would get her through more than one winter. He also promised that if this time went as they liked they would contract her barn the following year as well for the same price. As a show of faith he made a deposit of fifty coins. For that the elderly woman eagerly agreed.
By noon the other Solos had arrived and looked over the barn.
"This will work just fine Fotens," Doril announced. "Let's get to work."
Jackets were removed and clean-up began. Miren saw an opportunity to earn more and proposed to provide meals for a fee. The Solos quickly agreed and she set about preparing dinner for them all. As the sun set they had finished and began to clean themselves up. The girls went inside while the boys merely washed up outside.
"Fine meal," Danze Marow stated as she set down her fork. "May we have an empty glass?"
Miren nodded, "certainly."
An empty glass was given to her and Danze dropped her meal payment into it then passed it on. Each did the same and Doril handed it to Miren.
"Thank you," the old woman smiled then went to her kitchen to clean up.
Doril looked over to Danze, "what have you learned."
"This is a big house. She has lived alone for four years, none of her children or grandchildren visit. She does fine enough during the fair months, but struggles through the cold months. She's fairly lonely as well," the Fourth year Solo informed him.
Kyl Borkor stated, "what are you thinking?"
"Probably the same thing I am now," Goron Favell said.
Doril looked around the table, "from what I've read in the various predecessors' notes; there have been previous, but rare attempts to manipulate the Tournament. I'm thinking that we submit a proposal to the Council. In short, an offer is made to this property owner to purchase. The Council owns it and she remains on site in the guise of owner, but actually the caretaker. The barn is in good shape and the upper level could be turned into barracks. Miren Senun would be paid to continue doing as she does along with meal service."
"Summer break is coming up. The first and second years could remain on site here to make the renovations," Bess Ginaar suggested.
Hensee Rassan agreed, "I have no obligations, I could oversee the project. Most of us pay monthly for boarding so it wouldn't be a problem. Didn't you say you pre-paid your entire two years Fotens?"
Patrick nodded, "I did. However I could oversee some days of the project as well."
Miren Senun came back in, "excuse me. Could I interest any of you in some pie?"
"Yes Miren. Also we would like to include you in our current conversation," Danze Marow replied.
Miren nodded. She went back into the kitchen and came back with a stack of small plates, forks and a pie. Quickly she served the Solos then sat down.
Quickly Doril explained the idea.
Miren looked around and asked, "I would get paid to pretend I still own the farm and just look after you?"
"More or less. The Solos enrolled at the Academy would be paying you for meals and any other services you offer but billeting would be paid to the Council of Regiments. That is, rent for their room would be paid to the Council," Bron Zako explained.
"I think I might like that. I do wonder though; I'm not so young. What would become of me when the day comes that I can't get around anymore," Miren asked.
Goron spoke up, "there's actually a program for Solos when they go beyond retirement. You would be eligible. The First Regiment is in charge of it. Doril can tell you more."
Miren looked to him and he nodded, "I spent a summer there. Its actually a castle with full staff, including medical. That option can be included in the terms of the contract."
"When I do eventually pass on, could I be brought back here? I'd like to be buried with my husband," Miren said.
Danze nodded, "if you wish. Any specific rites would be provided as well. This may sound callous, but it is honest. We want you happy with the arrangement. The reason why is because that would make us, and those after us, feel secure. That may sound harsh to you, but we are Solos and its our way to be clear."
"Would it be possible for a young lady to stay in the house, instead of the barn. Just in case," Miren asked.
Jen Siva nodded, "I think I understand your request. Yes, it could be arranged."
"Danze will come by tomorrow evening with the contract. I'll contact the Council in the morning and should have an answer by the end of the week. If the Council agrees then I'll come back that evening for the contract to be signed and your payment," Doril informed her.
Miren smiled, "so fast? I hope they agree. It would be nice having you young people around."
All the Solos got up and left with a nod to her. It was agreed that they would bring in their horses the next day after classes.
Fiona appeared to be wandering about idly. The day before, all the Solos had disappeared for the afternoon and Doril Hunley had a closed-door meeting with the Headmaster first thing that morning. That evening the Solos' stable was empty and being cleaned.
"If you keep getting that look on your face Fiona, your complexion will suffer," Vaan stated coming up beside her.
Fiona carefully looked around then whispered, "the Solos must know things. Doril Hunley had a private meeting with the Headmaster this morning and now the stables are empty."
Vaan took her arm and moved her along, "Oh Fiona. You spend too much time over trivial things! Have you seen the cake the cook staff made for the dinner dessert? Its simply a masterpiece!"
After a few steps away Vaan spoke in a low voice, "there's more than that. All the unaffiliated Solos are ordering Armor made elsewhere. They had their measurements taken by the Academy outfitter, but no orders were placed through the Academy. Including shields. The closets in the Wardroom have seals of some kind placed."
"Gods," Fiona whispered. "They must all be convinced something is going on."
"Yes and that they are supposed to be on the receiving end of it. I don't think measures of this severity have been done before," Vaan admitted.
Fiona stopped, "I'm going into the village."
"As you see fit Fiona," Vaan nodded to her and watched her leave.
An hour later Fiona found Doril Hunley at the tavern she knew he had been staying at since coming to the Academy.
"Solo Hunley," Fiona said and sat down across from him.
Doril looked up, "something you want Doucet?"
Fiona nodded, "answers."
The First Regiment Solo pushed his finished dinner plate aside.
"The Solos have removed their horses from the stable. Even the First and Second years. All the unaffiliated have had armor measurements taken but none ordered through the Academy and the closets in the Wardroom have some kind of seal on them. I asked at the local armorers. No orders have been placed through them. All this is making me nervous. Like you suspect something," Fiona listed. "Solo Hunley is there something going on I should be aware of?"
Doril sat there looking her blandly.
"What will this get me," Fiona asked and placed five coins on the table.
"The stables and Wardroom have been compromised. We're protecting our horses and armor. Those that don't have personal armor are ordering through a service. That armor will be secured as well. Goodbye Doucet," Doril stated and took the coins.
"May I barter," Fiona asked.
Doril shrugged.
Fiona said in a low voice, "bring your own drinks during the Tournament."
"Make your own meals the day before and during," he replied then got up to leave. "Doucet. Trust nobody, hire or send home for squires."
Phoebe and Daalumos could see the flames of torches in the distance as they rode close to the battle that had been going on for the better part of the day.
"Pity we missed the beginning," Daalumos remarked.
Phoebe replied, "its still going. We take what we can get. Now we get only the strong. This may work out better!"
A moment later the bound demon tore into the fray. Instantly fear began to flow into Phoebe as she was recognized. Fear that turned into terror as Daalumos let out and unearthly shriek. The rage and murderous intent flowed into him. Phoebe took their terror and sent it back out which returned even stronger.
"I AM THE NIGHTMARE RIDER," Phoebe shouted. "I HAVE COME FOR YOU!"
The foot-soldiers and remaining knights were horror-struck at her confirmation. They had started their battle late in the day in an attempt to prevent her appearance but the battle had lingered past nightfall. Now they would face her regardless of intentions. Many tried to retreat but found their route suddenly cut off by a wall of flames. The mortals shrank back from the heat and crackling sound, convinced the illusion was real. They came to the conclusion the only way out now was through her and charged to attack.
The BloodLust reared up on his hind legs and leaped forward, "YES FOOLS! COME UNTO US! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!"
Daalumos had fed their rage and was now taking in the magnified intent. He stayed in constant motion, culling and herding new targets into the range of Phoebe's sword and his own hooves.
"BRING HER DOWN! ATTACK HER BEAST," Someone called out.
Following the orders many did so only to find the spears would not penetrate and swords merely glanced off.
"Take them," Phoebe ordered Daalumos then bailed off his back.
The mortal combatants thought they now had her in the most vulnerable position, afoot. They were so very wrong. Her advantage was even greater now. Phoebe charged into the onslaught, like a boulder rolled down into the surf, and broke their oncoming wave. The sword of Vulcan's blade took on a glow as it sliced and smashed into shields, swords, armor and even bodies. The BloodLust was having his own time, inciting attack and making minimum effort to push them back only to attack again. It wasn't long and they began to attack each other for getting in the way of attacks. They had become blinded by frustrated rage. Anything that got within range became a victim.
Phoebe called out, "MORE! FIGHT YOU FOOLS! THIS NIGHT HAS ONLY BEGUN!"
It didn't take long. With Phoebe in front of them, an encroaching wall of fire behind and comrades falling all around; terror soon reigned supreme. Many began to succumb to the visions dancing before their eyes. Each man's deepest fears began to surface. They could see them take form and come out of the fire and approach. It was all an illusion though, only in their fear ravaged minds. Phoebe and Daalumos continued to rampage within their claimed area. Those outside the illusion wall of fire were still gripped with fear and struggled to make their way to safety with the withdrawing forces.
Phoebe looked over to Daalumos as they stood alone on the battlefield now.
"That was good," Phoebe said, still feeling power flowing into her.
The BloodLust chuckled, "delightful!"
Phoebe took several shield and used her sword to wipe them of device then inscribe her own. She affixed them to discarded swords or broken lances then searched for coins and bagged them up. After slinging the bags over her shoulder she climbed back onto Daalumos' back and rode away. They stopped at the new temple being built and left one of the bags that she hastily drew her symbol on.
"Does it make a difference if you give offerings to your own temple," Daalumos asked.
Phoebe replied, "of course. It pays for the temple to be completed."
The bound demon laughed, "you could have said anything else and I would not have been surprised!"
Daalumos trotted away, carrying Phoebe. Within minutes they were back at their home.
The next day started with the posting of the selection list. It was done during breakfast so the Headmaster announced after the majority had finished eating. Many rushed to look. It was easy to tell who held confidence as they took their time to avoid the rush. It was when several started to return with disappointed looks that the rest made their way to the notice board. The crowd of students parted when word that Fiona doucet was approaching.
"Thank you." Fiona smiled as she went to the board then began to announce, "Myself, Prince Vaan Arento, Jeffries Talfar, Eaton Laanower, Doril Hunley, Goron Favell, Danze Marow, Bron Zako, Fay Merfin, Dirk Sharvot, Lara Tarika, Moor Falek, Bon Loreen, Kern Winnower. Those are the Fourth years. Third years are; Patrick Fotens, no surprise there. Hensee Rassan, Jessica Weyden, Ponz Gerrare, Den Irth, Aruna Moning, Dagar Voluntas, Lyl Matrileek, Norr Luunos, Klin Makaal, Hirz Kez, Sera Arden, Ben Surlaang, Del Ekato, Hevrin Aulder, Debrie Beom and Ziekell Loxtonia. That's it. Those are the Selections."
Several murmured in disappointment, other congratulated those they had been sure of.
Fiona addressed everyone, "Selects; congratulations. For those that did not, please show your support. Third years, you now know you will have to work harder next year. Second and First years; I hope this inspires you in your own training. Also for you Third years, your performance can influence your support in the upcoming election at the end of term. I hope my successor does well. That's all. The bells about to chime."
The crowd began to dispersed. All the students knew the order was determined by points acquired. By the end of the day the betting lists would be started and by morning there would be initial odds. Gambling wasn't a secret, in fact it was very out in the open. Of course there were several official bookmakers and all of the taverns took small wagers. Both students, faculty and staff were allowed to bet. In fact sometimes the placement of the bets influenced the odds greatly.
Just as classes for the day were about to end notes arrived to each Select. Minutes later they filtered into the Dining hall and sat at tables as the Headmaster stood by waiting. When the last arrived and was seated the Headmaster began to hand out sheets.
"Those of you that have been to Tournament before know about this. The first sheet are the rules, none of which should be foreign to you. The same rules that apply during training, apply during Tournament. Any breach will result in disqualification, you will also be EXPELLED immediately. The second page are special instructions," the Headmaster explained.
They all began to shuffle pages and read.
The Headmaster took up a page and read aloud, "competitors will provide two squires for their events. Squires may be selected from the student body or hired. Staff, faculty and other competitors are excluded. Family retainers are acceptable."
Doril Hunley stood up, "It has already been agreed that the competing Solos are employing underclass Solos."
"Acceptable as always Solo Hunley," the Headmaster replied then continued. "All competitors will be responsible for their personal equipment, including mounts. Your armor, shields, horses; care and maintenance are your own responsibility."
Several nodded acceptance.
"Lances for events will be supplied by the Academy and are of regulation competition standard. Lances from outside vendors are not allowed and their use will be grounds for disqualification. Battle lances are forbidden and their use will result in disqualification and expulsion," The Headmaster said slowly and clearly.
One of the Third years stood up, "Headmaster; will we be required to purchase our lances from the Academy for Tournament?"
The Headmaster shook his head, "no. The lances are provided at no charge."
"Sorry for asking such an obvious question, but I had to be sure. Lances can get expensive," the Third year sat back down.
"This is your first time and the question was sensible. One last thing. Since not all live in the dorms, all competitors will be responsible for providing their own meals and especially drinks the day of Tournament. For those not in residence, Solos of the Second Battalion will be stationed at their billeting and be escorted to the event by Second Regiment. There will be NO outside influences," the Headmaster stated firmly.
That message was clear. Any attempt to prevent a competitor from attending the event would be met with extreme force.
"If there are no other questions," the Headmaster asked and when none were voiced he nodded to them. "Good day."
Everyone adjourned. Some to breathe a sigh of relief, others to softly curse their frustration.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 14 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Sir Belvin saw Vaan Arento and Fiona Doucet walking together. That was nothing new. As they drew closer he heard their conversation.
"Vaan I don't think its such a good idea," Fiona remarked.
The Prince laughed, "oh Fiona don't be so boring! I think its a MARVELOUS idea. I really could do with the practice. I know your style too well now. Hiring a Solo for sword practice is brilliant idea."
Sir Belvin cleared his throat and both turned to see him.
"Sir Belvin! Please talk some sense in the Prince," Fiona asked.
The jousting instructor glanced at them both and sighed, "from the beginning."
Prince Vaan smiled broadly, "its been some time since I've done some proper sword training. The problem is that Fiona and I have sparred so many times, we know each other's style too well. I think hiring a Solo to spar with would be good training."
"Well all dueling has been suspended but training is another matter. Hiring a Solo actually makes sense, it removes all doubts. Very well Prince Arento. But this training will have to be supervised. I'll watch over it," Sir Belvin stated.
"Excellent! See Fiona? Now to find a Solo that would be accommodating," Vaan said then looked around. Suddenly he smiled even bigger, "SOLO FOTENS! WHAT TIMING!"
Patrick turned around, "Arento."
Vaan Arento practically bounded over to the Solo, "Solo Fotens I have a wonderful proposal for you!"
"Arento it doesn't matter how much money you pay; I can't get you pregnant," Patrick commented with a deadpan expression.
The flamboyant prince froze, "URK!"
The Jousting instructor pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut to maintain some semblance of composure. Fiona snorted then fell to the floor laughing.
After a couple of moments Vaan looked at him, "I really walked right into that one. Didn't I?"
Sir Belvin could help it anymore and laughed, "no you BARRELED into it!"
"I did. Solo Fotens if being a Solo ever goes in the toilet, you'll make a fortune in comedy," Vaan admitted.
Patrick shook his head, "never happen. I don't the talent for it. I only have road wit. That's what they call the humorous remark one thinks of after everybody leaves and your on your way home. I supposed you royals call it carriage wit."
Vaan perked up, "you mean there's actually a name for THAT?"
Fiona had calmed down some and was now trying to salvage her make-up, "I've never laughed so hard! That was PERFECT!"
The Prince did his best to recover, "let me rephrase; I'd like to hire you as a sparring partner for some sword training."
"That is possible. When," Patrick asked.
Vaan searched his jacket pocket and took out a few coins then handed them to him, "Sir Belvin said he would referee. How about now?"
"I have a few minutes," Patrick replied and took the coins.
Patrick used his thumb to flick the sword from the scabbard then pulled it free. Done so fast, the sword appeared to literally jump to his hand. The prince drew his own sword and edged back in surprise. Even the Jousting instructor was startled.
"This is sparring only. There are to be no injuries. Disarmed or yield. If an injury occurs, I will stop the session. You may proceed," Sir Belvin stated then backed away.
Jessica looked up, "what?"
"Prince Vaan and Patrick Fotens are about to duel! Hurry up," Aruna Moning called from the doorway then ran off.
Jessica and Lamia both jumped up and chased after the Duchess. Moments later they heard a clash of swords and turned the corner. There they found a crowd forming fast.
Jessica saw Fiona Doucet and went over to her, "what happened Countess?"
"What do you mean? The Prince bought some training time from Solo Fotens," Fiona stated.
Jessica watched intently. It didn't take but a few seconds to discern between the two. Vaan was highly agile and moved like the proficient dancer he was to parry or evade the Solo's sword. His attacks were direct and focused, aiming for the chest area. In short, a picture of graceful classic sword teachings. Precisely what one would expect of a royal or high noble.
Patrick on the other hand was something else entirely. His attack was pure kinetic transfer. It started from the ground and worked its way up his body to join the movement of his sword, adding leverage to the momentum and increasing the force. His body lowered to move into position then exploded into attack.
"That's pure Solo combat. He can fight for hours without tiring," Fiona whispered quietly to Jessica.
Jessica softly asked, "really? It looks like he's using his whole body."
Fiona nodded subtly, "he is. Instead of working only one part to exhaustion, he uses his whole body. That spreads the exertion out. Each part of his body moves a little, by the end of the motion the whole body has moved. That makes it look like a big movement. I hate to say it but Prince Vaan is going to be in big trouble soon. Vaan is everywhere, Fotens controls a small space."
Patrick diverted a thrust then used his blade to pull the sword further past before turning and driving the pommel into the prince's chest. Vaan let go of a whoosh of breath and quickly pulled his sword back to block Patrick's slash off of a backspin. Vaan leaped back then took two sliding steps forward as he slashed diagonally up then horizontally across. Patrick deflected the first and lowered himself to move in and catch the second flat. With the end braced to his forearm, Patrick moved in; again the sword was pulled past. Patrick now held his position.
"I have you," Patrick said flatly.
The prince quickly studied the positions of them both and sighed, "damn. You do. Point to Fotens."
The crowd members looked at each other, mostly in confusion, as the two slowly edged back from each other. Patrick had sheathed his sword then flexed his fingers. Vaan switched hands, flexed then switched back.
"Ready," the Prince nodded to Sir Belvin.
The instructor could tell by Patrick's casual stance that he too, was ready.
"Proceed," Sir Belvin called out.
Vaan bolted forward, leading with his sword. Once again Patrick thumbed the sword up then snatched it into a downward arc and deflected the thrust. Patrick crouched, turned into the deflection then leaned forward and pushed with his outer elbow. Arento found himself directed away from his opponent and now very vulnerable. Quickly he back-slashed to recover but Patrick was already there to capture the blade again. A slight shift and Vaan found himself off balanced. He dove to the side to escape the next attack and came up from a roll.
The desperate move took him out of Patrick's range. That was the upside. The downside was that it took him outside his out own attack range. He would have to move in again. Slowly the prince advanced. Patrick held his position; knees flexed, feet almost shoulder-width apart and right foot slightly angled onto the ball of the foot. Elbows tucked in close and blade upright at a diagonal with a back-tilt. Vaan came in, slip-changed his grip to drag-slash off a turn. The speed was good and his turn was firm. However it seemed that Patrick had read the intent to cross-step in. The Solo used the clash to provoke his own spin during which he turned his wrists over then extended himself at the locking of the finished turn.
Vaan watched in horror as Patrick had ended up swinging inside Vaan's sword then performed a slip-change grip then pull the sword back and stop just in front of the Prince's throat.
In a steady voice Patrick stated, "I have you."
Vaan slowly nodded, "I yield."
Slowly the swords withdrew again. Patrick sheathed his own.
"Time is up Arento," Patrick said then walked away. "You got what you paid for."
Vaan Arento sheathed his sword to mutter, "apparently I did. I'm going to fire my sword teacher back home."
"Go hit a shower Highness. He gave you a real workout," Sir Belvin said then walked off.
Vaan chuckled, "I'll do just that! Until later Fiona."
The prince left, leaving only Fiona and Jessica in the corridor.
"Let me get this right; Prince Vaan hired Solo Fotens for a duel that was actually training? Why would he do that," Jessica asked.
Fiona steered Jessica to walk down the corridor, "before you came here; how many times did you lose a sword match? A joust? Strike that. In the year leading up to you coming here, how many times?"
Jessica answered immediately, "none. Why do you mention it?"
"And in your first year here, how many times did you lose," Fiona asked.
"A lot," Jessica blinked then comprehension hit her. "You mean to tell me that that last year my teachers were losing intentionally?"
Fiona sighed, "its called currying Princess. The higher your status, the more it happens. Some do that here too. Sometimes its on their own, others because they have been instructed to."
"Solos don't do that. They can not be paid to fail. Gods, I am so stupid! Did I even actually earn my place in Selection," Jessica asked.
Fiona patted her shoulder, "relax. You earned your place, you aren't popular enough to be curried to. For once, being a bitch helped you. I am not encouraging you to revert back to it though."
"I felt so humiliated I didn't tell my parents how many times I was losing. I thought I would be shaming them and my teachers," Jessica admitted.
The Countess sighed, "you aren't the first and you definitely won't be the last. My parents taught me themselves. I never had that issue until I came here. When I came here I faced a lot of challenges. Some in your class are familiar with them. Pretty girls get challenged. I think you can figure out why."
Jessica nodded, "intimate reward."
Fiona leaned close and whispered, "one guy in the Tournament is going to challenge me for a kiss. Another wants my panties. So you see, even I still get them. Actually the ones I get are more brazen now."
"I feel so inept now," Jessica confided.
Fiona sighed, "if you want a real evaluation; ask Sir Belvin."
Jessica nodded and left.
Patrick saw Doril Hunley and Danze Marow standing outside the Solo Registrar waving to him. He brought Daemon to a stop by them.
"Waiting for me," Patrick asked.
The First Regiment Solo nodded, "come inside."
Patrick followed them in. Inside were seven Regimental Commanders. He recognized one immediately. The Commander of the Seventy-Fifth Regiment; Len Cardoon. Insignia's showed Commanders of the First, Fourth, Sixth, Tenth, Nineteenth, Fifty-Fifth and Eleventh Regiments. In short, the bulk of the Council plus one.
The group filed upstairs to a table and sat down.
"Solo Fotens. I understand you found the location that all enrolled Solos are currently using to secure their mounts. We've already been to speak with the owner. She has accepted the offer. Officially she is still the owner of the property, unofficially she is now in service to the Council itself," The Commander of First Regiment stated.
The Commander of the Fifth-Fifth Regiment was a woman that smiled, "you get a finders' fee. We also understand you paid a deposit. Add those together and you get a hundred coins. Payable immediately."
Patrick took out his ledger and brought up the contract. He sent it to the Council ledger, held by the First Regiment commander then accepted the small bag of coins.
The Commander of the Fourth Regiment spoke next, "it is our understanding that you are maintaining the Eighty-Sixth Regiment alone."
Patrick nodded, "that's correct."
"You are being officially listed as Commander of the Eighty-Sixth. There will be only two platoons. First Platoon consists of Yourself and whomever you wish to recruit. Second Platoon will consist of all unaffiliated Solos enrolled in the Academy until graduation. Essentially a training platoon. You will only be responsible for First Platoon. Second Platoon will be the responsibility of the Council," the Commander of the Nineteenth stated.
The Commander of the Fifty-Fifth amended, "however next year you will be in command of the enrolled Solos. As Hunley is this year."
Patrick looked as if he was about to dispute them.
The Tenth Regiment Commander held up his hand, "you are going to state that your fellow Third year, Hensee Rassan, would be the better choice due to academics."
Patrick nodded, "correct. His marks are higher."
"That is true but to discount your battle record would be to discredit you professionally. In full aspect, you stand above," the Sixth Regiment commander stated.
Doril Hunley agreed, "in truth you are the highest ranking Solo in the Academy. Your record surpasses all others, including my own. I know that the Solos will be in proper care after my graduation, with you in command. Care better than what I've provided."
"The title will be new but the position is the same. Actually it is a paid position. Not much but then its more of an administrative position. The downside to any command," Len Cardoon chuckled. It was agreed and chuckled to by the rest of the commanders.
Patrick reached over and took the commander's insignia and pinned it to his uniform.
"Starting next year all Solos will wear their Regimental uniforms. Those unaffiliated will wear those of the Eighty-Sixth Regiment, Second Platoon. We've already spoken with the Headmaster and it will be accepted. He even seemed to think that to do so may solve some problems in the future. He is more concerned with the present. As are we," The First Regiment commander stated.
The Nineteenth spoke up, "all signs are pointing to an element within the Academy making an attempt to influence Tournament results. All Solos will need shields that can use water-wrap. If any don't have, obtain them immediately through your regiments."
"Another thing. All the reports of this Nightmare Rider are in. She is a minor Goddess. From what we've been able to determine, she is the daughter of the God of Nightmares and Goddess of Punishment. She has appeared on our plane and is accumulating power. Her reasons are unknown. Any battle contracts taken will now have a stipulation that excludes engaging her. So far she has shown that she will not engage hired troops if they withdraw," the Commander of the Fourth Regiment stated. "this may go against norm, but you do encounter her, withdraw. If she demands any contact, be respectful. Her true name is Phoebe."
The First Regiment commander asked, "is there anything else? No? Then we adjourn. Commander Fotens."
All the other Commanders nodded and acknowledged his new rank then left. Doril and Danze both saluted him as well.
"I think it would be better to keep this confidential until after Tournament," Patrick suggested.
Doril nodded, "agreed. If it were revealed now it would paint a bigger target on you. Only the three of us and the Headmaster will know. However armor and shields need to be ordered. I have all the sizes. I'll order them in the Eighty-Sixth's colors and have them delivered here. The armor will be owned by the Second Platoon for use by the enrolled Solos with no affiliation. All shields will be able to use water-wrap."
"Good," Patrick said. "I'll be on my way."
Both nodded and watched him go.
Daalumos looked over as Phoebe stepped into their hidden room, "you seem to be out of sorts. Has your princess reconsidered that contract? The one about conceiving your child?"
"No. I had a meeting with the majority of the Council of Regiments. I've been named Commander of the Eighty-Sixth," Phoebe informed him then relayed the rest of the meeting.
The BloodLust chuckled, "so; after all your hard work to remain aloof and detached. You've managed to be saddled with responsibility for the younger ones. Amusing. If they consisted of all girls and fawned over you constantly, it would be laughable! Pity."
"Only Doucet would enjoy something like that. Or Arento," Phoebe remarked.
Daalumos chuckled, "ah yes. Those two. I do find them amusing. They put on quite the elaborate displays. I am surprised they are not intimate. Many of the young ones have remarked that the two would make a fine pairing."
"If they are intending to become a couple, they've been keeping it a secret. Even from the staff. She may be in an arrangement that she dislikes," Phoebe speculated.
"The trials and tribulations of mortals! Sometimes its detestable and other times its highly entertaining," Daalumos laughed.
Phoebe sighed, "I suppose so. Much different from the workings of the Underworld. Its fairly straight forward there, fight to claim and fight to keep. No allies, everyone for themselves."
Daalumos tossed his head in agreement, " true. But there is no worship in Underworld. Without worship there is not enough power. Without power one will not have enough strength to claim anything."
Phoebe frowned, "true. I have bad news for us. There has been an cease of mortal hostilities for the immediate time. Everyone is focusing on Tournament. I recall the same thing happened the past two years. We'll rest and relax for now."
"I could venture back into the Underworld and investigate. We've been away for a while without any contact. We should be more aware of the actions," Daalumos suggested.
Phoebe considered it then nodded, "yes. You may go for a few mortal days. While you are there you may assume whatever form you think will go unnoticed. Return as my steed in a few days."
The bound demon disappeared in a rush of flame.
"That deals with his boredom. He'll be able to find plenty to feed upon there for a while. I do need the information though. Being here on the mortal plane hides me from awareness. By staying out of actual dreams my father ignores me. Reacting to offences, instead of actively pursuing, allows me to go unnoticed by my mother," Phoebe stated to herself.
Slowly she let her eyes drift closed and soon slept.
Headmaster,
It has come to my attention that some nobles and especially some royals are entering the Academy with false expectations of themselves. To be more specific; they have suffered courtly favoring. These unfortunate and unsuspecting victims are being convinced of a false standard. I myself was subjected to such. I came to the Academy with a false sense of superiority. When I met with those held to higher standards I felt disheartened and ashamed. I hid that from my family out of embarrassment. This affected me in other ways as well. I became spiteful and belligerent towards my peers. I now am fully aware of the wrongness of that. Could there be some form of evaluation upon admittance to the Academy? I believe the adjustment would be more acceptable if reality was faced on Day One, rather than enduring confusion and dismay continually. I also believe that parents, of any class, would much rather hear of constant improvement instead of bland remarks to mask misunderstood failure by their children. I regret not being forthcoming with my own. Please do whatever you are able to prevent the repetition of a mistake I myself made. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
H.R.H. Jessica Weyden
Crowned Princess of Lurbourg
Jessica read the letter then carefully folded and tucked it into an envelope. She used her seal on the flap then sat back. Several crumpled attempts littered the desk. She gathered them up and tossed into the wastebasket. A knock at her door interrupted any other thoughts before they began.
"Come in," Jessica called out.
Lamia Tuala entered, "you disappeared. I was worried."
Jessica glanced out the window, "you missed dinner didn't you?"
"Yes. I was looking for you," Lamia admitted.
Jessica nodded, "run go change and I'll meet you downstairs. Don't wear anything that immediately identifies you and use the back stairs. I'll call for our horses."
Fifteen minutes later Lamia did a double-take. Jessica was wearing a plain black jacket with a green blouse and skirt with black pumps. Her sword had no ornament. Again she wore barely any make-up and no nail polish with her hair loose and barely styled. Before Lamia could say anything Jessica brought her finger up to lips and shook her head.
"Let's go," Jessica said quietly.
They mounted their horses and rode out through a side gate. It took longer but Jessica directed them to the village further away. The one they rarely went to. Lamia was confused but followed her friend's lead and found herself taken down a side street to a tavern with a sign merely depicting a cup and a plate. Inside there were a few people, None looked to be knights or infantry of any kind. In fact, none wore any swords. Jessica led them over to a table toward the back and sat down.
"What's going on," Lamia whispered.
Jessica frowned, "I don't want to be me right now. Don't use any titles."
"Alright. Jess. Is something going on," Lamia asked.
They were interrupted by a young barmaid that gave a half smile, "what can I get you?"
Jessica looked up, "two dinners. Juice for the drinks."
The barmaid nodded and left, "back in a minute."
"You're pretending to be a Solo," Lamia whispered.
Jessica nodded slightly, "sort of. I don't have a crest so nobody will know for sure if I am or not."
The barmaid came back and set the plates down and glasses.
Jessica pulled out some coins and set them on the table toward her, "that about right?"
"Yes Ma'am! Let me know when you're ready for dessert. Its chocolate cake," The barmaid told them with a smile.
"We'll do that," Jessica said then turned back to Lamia after the barmaid happily went back to the bar. "I was a horrible person Lamia. When I came to the Academy I thought I was invincible. My sword and jousting tutors faked my abilities. I was nowhere near what I needed to be when I was admitted."
Lamia blinked, "they were currying favor?"
"That's how it seems. Vaan dueled Fotens. Fotens won. I mean he practically walked all over him. That happened to me when I first came. It was like, they took enjoyment at bringing me down. Even more at keeping me down. I know a lot have been holding back this year. They want to be underestimated at Tournament. It gives them an edge," Jessica explained.
Lamia thought about that for moment, "you think you'll be at a big disadvantage?"
Jessica sighed, "I'm thinking that I'm incredibly lucky my mother allowed the contract with Fotens to be bought out."
"Well that's obvious," Lamia said then looked apologetic. "No offense, but he did take you down very hard. Twice. I don't see you winning against him. In fact, I don't remember seeing him lose."
"Fotens wins because he is better. He's very experienced. Vaan isn't taking him lightly," Jessica confided.
Lamia sipped her juice thoughtfully then asked, "have you noticed that all the Solos are acting strange? They took all their horses out, they aren't going into the Wardroom at all anymore. Even in the corridors they're not talking. They just look at each other. I saw one nod to the other and got a nod back. Not like they were saying hello to each other. More like they were trying to say something without anybody knowing they did."
"Lamia don't take this the wrong way, but I think it might be a good thing that you didn't make selection this year. I think some people are going to get hurt. People like me. Especially people like the Solos," Jessica speculated.
Lamia Tuala leaned forward, "that doesn't explain why we're here like this."
"Fiona and Vaan are nervous. The Solos are more guarded than usual. Lamia, everyone is acting strange now. I brought us here like this to have a moment to ourselves. Just a little while to relax," Jessica said.
The barmaid came over and picked up their finished dinner plates while setting out the slices of cake for them along with fresh glasses of juice. When they finished Jessica caught the barmaid's attention and set three more coins on the table with a nod of approval then she and Lamia left.
After clearing the village border Lamia asked, "when you went with Solo Fotens; did something happen between you two?"
Jessica nodded, "not what you think. He showed me reality. Things aren't as simple as I thought they were. I couldn't be a Solo. I'd go crazy. Lamia I want you to be one of my squires. I'll send home for another. I have a really bad feeling."
Sometime later they re-entered through the same side gate then dropped off the horses at the stables then went inside. Jessica soon had a letter composed to her mother and dropped in the out-going slot. She dropped the letter to the Headmaster in his office slot.
Meanwhile in the dimly lit Royals' Wardroom, Fiona Doucet held up a torso plate.
"Its been weakened. Someone applied a chemical to it. This Armor will fail on contact," the Headmaster stated while inspecting it closely. "Check the others. NOW! Prince Vaan, you will have to obtain new armor. I suggest you contract Solo Hunley about that in the morning."
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 15 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Daalumos stood on the edge of a plain watching a minor skirmish. Lower Demons that were vying for dominance over each other.
"With no gifted weapons, they could be at this for years. They'll grow bored eventually," the BloodLust surmised then wandered on.
He had took on a more common form for a Demon when he arrived back in the Underworld. Remaining in the horse form would have been conspicuous. Using the common form allowed him to pass relatively without regard. Not unnoticed, but with less notice. Only a God, Goddess or another Lust would know what he was. Lusts usually avoided each other, just in case they were of the same kind. For the most part he simply wandered the fringes of populated areas and listened. Words spoken in anger tended to be more true in the Underworld. Hostility equated to honesty there, calmness were the hallmarks of calculation and deception. In short, the only time one could be trusted; was when they were trying to destroy someone.
"Why do you return," a voice asked.
Daalumos felt angry Divinity coming in waves from the cloaked and hooded figure.
He tilted his head in puzzlement, "return?"
The hood was pushed back to reveal the face of a harsh woman, "you are bound to Phoebe of Nightmares, Lust. I know you are in her service."
"Poena the Punisher," Daalumos said in recognition.
Slowly she approached, "you will not be so foolish as to try using your power on me, Lust. Why do you return?"
"Curiosity. Why do You ask," Daalumos asked.
Poena stated, "you serve Phoebe, yet Phoebe is with the Mortals and you are here, Lust."
Daalumos tilted his head, "this is true. You ask as if my Mistress is of concern to Yourself. We do not indulge in Your pursuits."
"I am aware of Phoebe's pursuits. I birthed her, Lust. Do not forget that," Poena reminded.
The bound Demon nodded, "I forget nothing Punisher. If You are indeed aware of my Mistress' pursuits as You say, then You have no reason to concern Yourself."
Poena glared, "you are being obstinate Lust."
"I do not serve you Punisher. I merely find your questioning irrelevant. You are Poena and my Mistress is Phoebe. She has no interest in Your pursuits and You have no interest in Hers. There is no conflict so I see no reason to provide Yourself with answers to questions that are not Your concern," Daalumos stated.
Poena was about to counter but the BloodLust cut her off, "unless You are wishing to make Yourself Her concern. My Mistress would not like Yourself to be poking into Her affairs. She is not a Demi-Goddess. Phoebe's affairs are Her own and have nothing to do with Yourself. You want something for nothing. Something that is not of your concern."
Finally Poena reached into the cloak and then threw down a bag that jingled, "a payment then Lust."
Daalumos took the bag and checked inside to find it filled with Underworld coins, "very well Punisher. My Mistress seeks knowledge of Phoetor."
"Only Phoetor," Poena asked.
Daalumos laughed as he walked around the Goddess then leaned over her shoulder, "my Mistress has no interest in You at all Punisher. None at all."
"None," Poena asked in puzzlement.
Daalumos chuckled as he began to walk away, "You presumed too much Punisher. You have nothing She wants."
"You want to order new armor in your colors through First Regiment," Doril Hunley asked.
Vaan Arento nodded, "No. I want to obtain a new set from home through your channels. I simply need First Regiment to secure that transport of that armor. My current set of armor has been compromised. "
The Solo remarked, "you seemed to be surprised about that. Someone else would ask why that is."
"And you won't because you know why," the Prince stated with sarcasm then hit full comprehension.
The Solo has sold his information to warn them since he was unable to stop the culprit. There was still time to counter the threat. In fact there would still be enough time to counter it in two more days.
Vaan sighed and began to reach into his jacket pocket, "how much to find out who?"
"The information is not at my disposal," Hunley replied.
Vaan pulled out a handful of coins and counted out twenty and set them in front of the Solo, "I want to know what you know."
"Non-regulation lances, horse sabotage, compromised armors, tainted water and meals. All Solos are targeted along with all royals and the student council President. That is what I have currently," Doril listed. "Medical records may have been compromised as well."
Vaan was very quick to understand that part. Injuries sustained due to training and previous Tournaments would be in those files. Injuries that could be exploited to cause failure and forfeiture. The mentioning of the lances was also significant. A non-regulation lance would result in a harder impact. Harder impact would cause, or aggravate a previous, injury.
Distraction immediately appeared in the form of Patrick Fotens.
"Ah! Solo Fotens," Vaan said and gave a smile.
Patrick nodded, "Arento. Hunley."
Doril gave a steady nod, "Fotens. Arento has a problem."
"Is he contracting a service," Patrick asked.
The Prince picked up the subtle change in attitude. He had wanted to keep the matter confidential, but Doril was now acting as if obligated to have Patrick Fotens informed.
Patrick nodded then asked, "are you able to accommodate?"
"I can. The service will not require me to leave and be concluded in three days," Doril informed him.
"Then its all you. Anything else," Patrick asked.
The First Regiment Solo shook his head, "that's it."
Patrick nodded and continued on about his business. Vaan was now very curious.
"Might I ask what that was all about Solo Hunley," the Prince asked.
Doril nodded, "I graduate this year and will be leaving. Fotens will be the ranking Solo. All activities will be going through him, as they have been through me. Contracts through Regiments will be handled in the manner they always have been but independent contracts, such as yours, will be overseen by the ranking Solo. Fotens will be that ranking Solo. Nothing different as far as things go."
Vaan considered that for a moment, "I actually wasn't aware of that."
Doril sighed, "Arento there are a lot things the student body in general aren't aware. One of them is that though I may have Seniority, Patrick Fotens has outranked me since his first day at the Academy. Technically he was supposed to be in my position. It was agreed that my experience here made me better suited. This year has been the exception, not the standard. Next year will be back to standard with changes."
Vaan added two coins to the ones in his hand, "such as?"
"All Solos will be wearing Regimental colors. Some are taking a temporary affiliation during their time at the Academy. Internal matters that concern the Solos; not the student body," Doril stated. "Now back your matter. Meet me at the Solo Registrar during lunch."
Vaan handed over the coins and left to go about his business.
"Wonder when he's going to stop playing the fop. I still find it hard to believe there are some around here that actually fall for it," Doril Hunley remarked to himself as he went to class.
Jessica looked to the Countess, "you mean my armor wasn't tampered with at all?"
"I'm afraid so Highness. I suspect you are being set up or have not been deemed a serious enough threat. However I believe it to be prudent to secure new armor from home just in case. Prince Vaan is doing the same," Fiona stated.
Jessica then looked frightened, "what about the Nobles? The Solos?"
Fiona patted her shoulder, "the Solos are looking after themselves. In fact it was because of them that I began to suspect something. I think they made certain movements in effort to BE obvious something was going on."
"The Solos are acting guarded. Secretive even. Have they said anything to you," Jessica asked.
Fiona sighed, "trust around here shouldn't be taken for granted. Princess, as someone who cares, it is time to become cautious. There are many who have things riding on this Tournament, besides standings. You almost did too."
Fiona said that last part with emphasis and Jessica didn't miss the meaning. She didn't miss the deeper meaning. Fiona herself had a similar problem. How she fared in Tournament would determine her own outcome.
"Fiona I'm so sorry you've been tricked into such a position," Jessica tried to console her.
Fiona shook her head, "I set the terms Highness."
"YOU," Jessica exclaimed in disbelief.
The Countess nodded, "Highness, Jessica, not everyone can be told 'no' outright. There times when a young woman must take her future into her own hands and give over to her skills and abilities."
The Princess thought about that. She walked a few steps away, back then away again before turning back, "but some can't afford to take the chance their's are better. They have to be ensured of total victory. They have the most to lose or gain with the results."
Fiona arched an eyebrow, "it seems your time in Solo Fotens charge did more than calm your temper. Keep going Highness."
"It can't be something so simple as a marital arrangement. Nor business. No Countess, this is more than that. This is also a personal statement. That rules do not apply to them. They are above everything. This may also be about retaliation. Armor that fails on the first contact; even the strongest opponent will be made vulnerable," Jessica said aloud but talking more to herself.
Fiona's eyes narrowed, "but why omit someone? You."
"Because I will lose to others since I have lost before. I'm not taken seriously. The Solos are stronger than me. They can change everything. Solos can not be paid into lower performance, they are a threat. People constantly think Vaan is an airhead until he gets in the saddle, he is a threat. You've been unbeatable all year, you are a very big threat. Bad armor can't be the only thing they're trying to do," Jessica said then exclaimed. "THE HORSES!"
Fiona nodded for her to continue.
"The Solos pulled all their horses! If they suspected one horse of being tampered with they'd switch, that makes sense. All their horses would have to be tampered with to give them no choice. That's why the Solos pulled all their horses out! It won't be enough though. All but one of the Solos in the Tournament are affiliated so they keep their armor with them and only wear Academy armor for training. During Tournament their wear their own! THE SOLOS ARE THE BIGGEST THREAT OF ALL TO THIS PERSON," Jessica concluded.
Fiona then asked, "and who has had two dramatic run-in's with Solos?"
"Me! I've been butting heads with them since day one here! Everyone has known of my hatred for them. I'M THE SCAPEGOAT," Jessica stated.
Fiona leaned in, "and now you know why I've brought all this to your attention."
Jessica asked angrily, "who is behind this?"
"GOOD question," Fiona replied. "I'm starting to think that anything obvious should not be trusted at all. You're change of attitude is very recent and not widely known. Some in your class doubt that you are being genuine."
"I guess that shouldn't be a surprise," Jessica lamented then noticed Fiona's expression change. "What?"
Fiona mused, "that may be something that can be used to advantage. I think I have an idea."
"He'll see you now," the secretary said and nodded to the door.
Patrick went inside, closing the door behind him.
"Commander Fotens," the Headmaster greeted him.
Patrick nodded, "Headmaster. I'm still acclimating to the rank."
The old man nodded back, "you're a professional; I've no doubt you'll adapt. I won't waste your time Commander."
Patrick watched as he stacked up several coins on his desk slowly.
"I have a problem that needs to be looked into. I want to contract you for two reasons. Firstly; you are the highest ranking Solo in the area. Secondly; your record is exemplary. You've never failed to carry out an assignment," the Headmaster stated.
"What is your request Headmaster," Patrick asked formally.
The Headmaster leaned forward, "someone is trying to influence the Tournament. Find out who and bring me proof."
"I've done reconnaissance assignments before, but this would be my first investigation. There are others more qualified in that field," Patrick stated.
"Are you declining Commander Fotens," the Headmaster asked.
Patrick stood his ground, "informing you of my experience and verifying you wish to proceed in an informed manner."
The Headmaster nodded, "I understand. Very professional. I am informed and do wish to proceed."
"This contract will be verbal and payment only upon satisfactory completion; one hundred and thirty coins. These are my terms," Patrick said.
"Results no later than the day before. These are my terms. Agreed," the Headmaster asked.
"Agreed. Headmaster," Patrick said then left.
Alone now the Headmaster looked at the door the young Solo Commander just exited, "very clever taking the assignment as a verbal contract. Anyone that ever goes through his ledger will never know he conducted the investigation. Any information I receive will for all intensive purposes be anonymous. No political fallout. The previous Commander taught him better than anyone suspects."
That night Patrick used the Cloak of Shadows. The cloak allowed him to step out of a shadow inside the supply shop in the village. Quietly he began to look through the receipts. Tucked in the back of the file was the one he was looking for. The order for five lances in Academy colors. Four were composite, one was a battle lance. The name on the receipt didn't look familiar so it was carefully tucked inside his jacket.
Doril Hunley provided him the chest-piece of Vaan Arento's armor. It took some doing but with the assistance of an armorer that only served Solos, they were able to determine which chemical had been used. That became his next task. Of the five Armorers in the area anyone could go to he found the chemical in one shop. Unfortunately there was no receipt. The chemical had either been stolen or sold secretly by an apprentice. The stairs began to squeak. Someone was coming downstairs.
Patrick had a choice; hide, escape or confront. He made his decision and stood casually leaning against the wall.
The Smith gained the floor and made for the kitchen but stopped. He felt like he was being watched.
Quickly he turned and flipped on the light, "WHO'S THERE?"
"Someone with questions ArmorSmith. Very serious questions," Patrick replied to the startled man.
"You're a Solo. I've seen you before. Why are you sneaking around in my shop," the Smith asked with clear agitation.
Patrick pointed to a shelf, "that. Yours is the only shop that uses Kressium Acid."
The Smith growled, "yeah. So?"
Patrick closed on the big man, "so someone has sprayed Kressium Acid on the armor of several Selections for Tournament. You received a case last week and have already gone through five of the ten bottles. Your receipts only show two sets of armor in for repairs that would require use of such chemical. That's three bottles gone without reason."
Undisguised surprise turned to anger, "are you saying I supplied somebody the bottles to influence Tournament?"
Patrick stood still without confirming or denying the statement.
"No way would I do that! I'd lose my license and be run out of the village! I'd never work again," the Smith protested then froze. "Damn it!"
Quickly he waved to Patrick, "follow me!"
Patrick followed him back upstairs then into a room that he slammed the door open.
"GET UP! YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO," the Smith demanded to a young man a few years older than Patrick.
The startled young man looked around, "I-I don't know what you mean Sir."
The Smith hauled him up by his shirt, "three bottles of acid are missing that I didn't use and now a Solo is here asking about them! You came into some money to have a wild time over the weekend, WHO DID YOU SELL THOSE BOTTLES TO?"
"A-a guy at the Academy! A Noble! He didn't give his name. Just offered me three times what the bottles cost. I thought if I bought three more on the next order and paid for them myself you wouldn't notice," the Apprentice confessed.
"What did he look like," Patrick asked calmly.
Fearfully the Apprentice answered, "sh-short brown hair. A goatee. His jacket was green. Green and white with gold."
"I should throw you out into the streets," the Smith snarled.
Patrick held up his hand, "Tomorrow morning report this to the Headmaster during breakfast. Take him with you to identify the Noble. Say nothing of my involvement. Follow my instruction and you will be absolved of any wrongdoing. How you handle your business is up to you. Apprentice, reveal me and I will come for you."
"Yes Sir," the Apprentice said woefully.
Patrick then left through a door. One problem solved, one pending and two left.
The Headmaster and Sir Belvin were both surprised when Patrick Fotens asked them to join him at the armory. Breakfast was still twenty minutes from being served.
"Alright Fotens. We're here," Sir Belvin said after letting them inside.
Patrick went to the lance room. Lances had already been set aside and tagged for Tournament use. the two men followed him.
"Five lances have been ordered and collected in the Academy colors. The name on the receipt does not match any student, faculty or staff. Please check each tagged lance to verify they are regulation COMPETITION lances," Patrick said.
Sir Belvin began to check. It took just over five minutes to find them. They were all for the same person. A third year named Bon Loreen.
"Gentry Loreen will have to be disqualified," the Headmaster stated.
"Agreed. This is beyond blatant," Sir Belvin remarked hotly.
Patrick was standing to the side, "solve one problem. Give opportunity to create another with less time to discover and solve it."
"What are you suggesting Commander Fotens," the Headmaster asked.
Patrick stepped forward, "make his first opponent be me. I can bring him down and with that all his lances are taken out of service by Sir Belvin personally. There is a staff assisting. That's the only way the lances could be in here already. If Sir Belvin removes them personally the problem is solved."
"And if he uses the battle lance on you," Sir Belvin asked.
Patrick looked non-plussed, "it won't be an issue. Make the arrangement. Loreen against me, the very first match. Another problem is going to be resolved very soon and very public."
"Very well Commander. I'd say we're done here for now. I have the feeling that we should get to the Dining hall and linger about today," the Headmaster remarked.
Half an hour later, Patrick's advice seemed prophetic. A local ArmorSmith and his Assistant were shown in. Within minutes Lord Del Ekato was summoned to the corridor. Seconds later the yelling began then stopped. The young Noble did not return to the hall nor was he seen in any classes that day. Only the Faculty knew by late afternoon; he was seen leaving with his belongings under guard by Solos of the Second Regiment. None would say anything.
Patrick stood in the Headmaster's office after classes.
"So the bulk of the problems are now solved," the Headmaster remarked.
Patrick asked him, "do you trust your eyes and ears?"
The Headmaster shrugged, "I've never had any reason not to."
"I'm giving you reason now. We've uncovered and negated angles of the attack. Not the instigator. Neither of those two would take those measures of their own volition. They were bribed or blackmailed. This isn't over," Patrick said.
The headmaster sighed, "and here I thought I was going to be paying you today."
"The staff members that are facilitating assistance will not reveal either. If they were not blackmailed to begin with, they will be. The fact that they conspired against so many would bring a myriad of charges. They would never see the outside world again. The fact that it could also include Regicide only makes it worse. Some kingdoms mark that as a death sentence," Patrick stated the obvious.
Sir Belvin agreed, "very true. We may have to wait until the break and contract the Fourth Battalion to interview the staff."
The Headmaster took that into consideration. The Solos of the Fourth Battalion were intelligence experts. Fotens was only one person, though he had achieved sound results so far.
"Very well. Commander Fotens I am satisfied. The contract is settled. If you come across anything more I consider it extra and will pay a bonus. Here's your pay. Good day Commander," the Headmaster stated and handed ove a bag of coins.
Patrick took them and left.
Sir Belvin looked over to the Headmaster, "uh; so when did Fotens become a Commander?"
The old man winced, "about that. Keep it to yourself for now."
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 16 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Jessica had finished her breakfast and left the Dining Hall. Aruna Moning quietly rushed up beside her.
"I have to talk to you! Privately," the Duchess whispered.
Jessica led her outside to the courtyard. It was currently empty.
"Alright Aruna. This is as private as we can have until this afternoon," Jessica said.
Aruna glanced around anyway then said quietly, "Lord Del Ekato is gone!"
"What do you mean 'gone'," the Princess asked confused.
Aruna told her quickly, "yesterday morning he was pulled from the Dining Hall. Nobody saw him since. One of the other Nobles said his dorm room was empty and I just heard that his horse is not in the stable either. Something HAPPENED!"
"Aruna calm down. None of the Instructors have said anything," Jessica tried to calm her friend.
Aruna shook her head, "you don't understand! I just looked at the Selection list and his name was crossed off!"
That caused Jessica to stop, "what? Crossed off? Did it say 'withdrawn' or something like that?"
The Duchess slowly shook her head, "nothing. Just crossed off."
Jessica considered that a moment then waved to her, "let's go find out for ourselves."
Back in the corridor they saw Fiona Doucet directing a couple of First years.
"Countess. Might we have moment," Jessica called out as they approached.
The two First years rushed off, "your Highness."
Jessica nodded to both and smiled.
Fiona regarded them, "good morning Highness. Duchess Moning."
"I know you're busy so I'll be quick. Aruna just informed me that one of the Selections has been removed. May we know what's happened," Jessica asked.
The student council President looked confused, "removed? I wasn't aware. Are you certain Duchess?"
Aruna nodded, "Yes Countess. He was pulled during breakfast and not seen since. Another Noble told me Lord Del's room is now empty and his horse in not in the stable."
"This is the first I'm hearing of this. Perhaps he withdrew due to an emergency," Fiona proposed.
"Highness. Ladies," Sir Belvin greeted coming out of the Dining Hall.
Fiona decided to quell a rumor before it really got started.
"Sir Belvin. Has a Selection been removed," Fiona asked.
The jousting instructor sighed and nodded, "yes. Lord Ekato will not be participating in Tournament, nor will he be continuing course at the Academy. Due to the timing of this, no alternate was able to be readily named. You, as the previous champion will not enter until the second round. The Headmaster intended to inform you of this later on today."
"Perhaps I can talk with the Headmaster now and get ahead of any rumors before they take a foothold," Fiona said then made her way to the office.
Sir Belvin looked to Jessica and Aruna, "I believe there is somewhere a Princess and Duchess should be."
"Of course Sir Belvin. Right you are. We'll be on our way," Jessica said before Aruna could protest and began to herd the inquisitive Duchess away.
Out of earshot Aruna finally spoke up, "we didn't find out anything. Why didn't you ask Sir Belvin?"
Jessica shook her head, "he wasn't about to tell us anything or he would have said so to Fiona right there. We have more important things to talk about. Have you taken care of squires yet?"
"Yes yes. My parents are bringing two along just for me when they come for Tournament. They're also bringing a cold box for water during it," the Duchess said airily.
Together they walked into the class.
Fiona was let into the Headmaster's office. She was surprised to see Lamia Tuala sitting in front of the desk.
"Come in Countess. I believe Lady Tuala has something you need to hear," the Headmaster beckoned her in.
Fiona walked to her and sat in the chair beside her, "Lamia? Has something happened?"
"A note was slipped under my door during the night. I'm being blackmailed," Lamia sniffed.
The Headmaster prompted gently, "start from the beginning Lady Tuala. The Countess needs to know everything."
Lamia choked back a sob and nodded but didn't look up, "I'm not really a Lady. My father was wounded in a battle. Mother was never able to have children. I'm not even a Tuala. I'm adopted!"
Fiona reached over and hugged her, "Lamia this is not as bad as you think. Please go on."
Lamia wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and handed over the note, "somehow someone found out. The note said that I have to substitute her water bottles during Tournament."
"Princess Weyden's water," Fiona asked reading the note then handed it back.
Lamia nodded and sobbed, "she's my friend. I can't do that to her. Please help me Countess! I'll do anything. I'll quit the Academy. I'll be your maid! Anything!"
"There'll be no need for that LADY Lamia Tuala," Fiona said gently. "Its more than she being your friend. You are her's."
The door opened and Patrick Fotens walked in.
"Solo Fotens. Thank you for coming so quickly. I regret to admit that you were indeed right," the Headmaster commented.
Patrick regarded the others in the room and let his gaze settle on Lamia Tuala, "I'm listening."
"There has been an attempt to blackmail Lady Tuala," the Headmaster stated.
Patrick nodded his understanding, "compromise Tuala since she will be acting as squire to Weyden. How was contact made?"
"A note. It was slipped under my door during the night," Lamia said.
Patrick put on his gloves and held his hand out, "I need it."
Lamia handed it over. Patrick held it up to the light from the window and looked closely.
"No watermark. I'll let you know if I find anything," Patrick said then turned to Lamia. "Even if you were to do as they want, they'll own you forever. Whatever secret you think you need to protect, bring it out and take away their power."
"I'm adopted," Lamia stated.
Patrick shrugged the statement off, "that would be your concern Tuala. It makes no difference to me. Whether or not they gave you a name means nothing. What you do with that name is what's of value. Is Lamia Tuala a person of shame; or courage?"
"Courage! I won't betray my friend," Lamia said firmly.
Fiona took her hands, "then show that courage Lamia. Show them they have no power over you!"
Patrick had made his way to the door, "I'll find out whatever there is to find Headmaster."
With that the Solo left.
Lunch was winding down and students were starting to gather up their trays to drop off.
Quickly Lamia Tuala stood up on her chair and called out loudly, "excuse me please."
Everyone stopped and turned to look.
"Everyone I wanted to talk on a personal matter," Lamia announced then took a deep breath. "There is at least one very despicable person here. A note was slipped under my door during the night. It said that if I did not swap the water bottles for Princess Jessica Weyden during Tournament, it would be revealed that I was adopted by my parents. I've given that note to the Headmaster first thing this morning."
The silence was almost tangible as people stared in shock. Some even began to look around, as if a sign would suddenly appear over the culprit.
Lamia decided she had nothing left to lose, "her Highness is my friend! I'd never betray her! I may not be a Tuala by blood, but I am one in name! What I do with my name will determine my nobility! I'll do what is RIGHT and be true to my friend! Your Highness; if you've any doubt to my honor I will gladly stand aside as your squire."
Jessica stood up and stormed over to her, "if you think that confession changes things between us; YOU'RE RIGHT!"
Suddenly Jessica hugged her, "you're MY friend! I'm YOUR friend! I'll have you nowhere but BY MY SIDE at Tournament!"
Vaan Arento stood up and began to clap loudly, "Well said Princess! LADY Tuala; I applaud your courage! You are indeed a NOBLE."
Fiona very subtly looked around and noticed all of the Solos had been sitting around the perimeter and were not looking at the people standing. They were looking at the people still seated and watching their reactions carefully. Many students were clapping and nodding. A few looked on, indifferent. The Countess continued to look around and noticed a Solo was missing. Patrick Fotens was nowhere to be seen.
Gradually the Dining Hall began to empty now that the moment had passed. Fiona took a place by the door and waited. She smiled and nodded to some who had done so to her. Solos had been mixed in with the exodus but with Doril Hunley being the last to exit. She quietly signaled him to wait then closed the door.
"Solo Hunley I would like a moment," the Countess said quietly.
Doril nodded, "what's on your mind Doucet?"
In a low voice she asked, "something has happened within the Solo hierarchy. I am beginning to suspect that you now answer to someone other than the Headmaster in the Academy."
"And you've come to this conclusion how," Hunley asked flatly.
Fiona didn't look away, "Solo Fotens was brought to the Headmaster's office during the session with Lamia Tuala. I was given the impression he is investigating things as per a contract with the Headmaster."
The Solo wasn't flustered, "that could be the situation."
"But as the ranking Solo, wouldn't that be your place," Fiona asked pointedly.
Doril nodded, "for the ranking Solo it would be. However, I am not the ranking Solo. Fotens is."
"WHAT? You're the Fourth year with the most points," Fiona stated.
Doril shook his head, "that is how it works most of the time. Not this year. I am the SENIOR Solo, not the ranking. Solo Fotens has outranked me since he entered the Academy. Until now the Solos have deferred to my Seniority."
Fiona's jaw dropped. This was a shocking revelation. She knew that Patrick Fotens had a record that was remarkable, but for the assumed top ranked Solo to say that the Third year was above him was something she had never heard of.
"I don't understand. How could he be above you," Fiona asked.
Doril sighed, "Doucet you're under the impression that academic points are the forefront. Its not. Royals, Nobles and Gentry don't have a battle record. You don't enter battle until you graduate. We usually do. Fotens has two years of battle experience over all of us and that record is actually better than all of the currently enrolled Solos combined. This may not matter to the student body at large, but it makes a profound difference to us. If you are trying to ask if I answer to him; the answer is yes, I do."
Fiona was almost staggered by the confirmation, "why has that been kept such a secret?"
"We answer only to the Headmaster and our Regiment Doucet. That never changed. If something happens between us and the student body then you are allowed involvement. For everything else, we see to ourselves. The Top rank or Senior Solo oversees the Solos. Sometimes they are the same, sometimes not. There's been no need to clarify to the student body. The Headmaster has been aware the whole year," Doril remarked. "We done? I need to get to class or charge you."
Fiona shook her head and opened the door, "that's all Solo Hunley."
The First Regiment Solo left the room, and the student council President with more questions than she had before the conversation started.
Patrick handed over the blackmail note to the Headmaster, "there are four different fingerprints on the page. They were not the same as those on the receipt for the lances. One set will of course belong to Tuala. Another I'm sure belong to a staff member as the paper is standard. Its the other two that may belong to a guilty party."
"One belongs to Fiona Doucet. She read the note before you came in," the Headmaster informed him.
"I advise you to bring in the village sheriff's team to determine who the fingerprints belong to. Or you can contract the Fourth Company's Third platoon," Patrick advised.
The old man sighed, "very well. I'll contact the Commander of the Fourth Company. Speed is critical now. Tournament is almost upon us. How much Commander Fotens?"
Patrick turned to leave, "part of the original contract."
"Rank hasn't changed him one bit," the Headmaster said to himself as he began to put through a communicae.
Daalumos could see the castle for Phoetor in the distance. He had stopped at the edge of a ridge to observe. The surprise came when he looked down in debate of how to descend. At the bottom something was chained to the rockwall. The Lust took the shape of a bird and flew down to land on large rock close by.
"This is quite the sight," Daalumos remarked.
The figure lifted its head to reveal a beautiful feminine face, "do as you were sent Demon or be gone."
Daalumos stretched his wings for a moment then looked at her, "who are you Succubus? Why are you chained thus?"
"I am Iia of the court of Phoetor. I refused to serve in the brothel of Marduk Kurios after the defeat of Phoetor," the Succubus confessed.
Daalumos held back the surprise in his voice, "Phoetor was defeated?"
Iia hung in her chains, "yes Demon. My Master was defeated and sent to Abyss after being caged. His legion was taken into service and the castle of Nightmares plundered. I refused to go. I will not serve Marduk Kurios. For that I have been left here for wanderers."
"What if the one I serve freed you? Would you serve as well," Daalumos asked.
Iiya slumped, "only Marduk Kurios can release me. He will not. I will never whore His brothel. This is my eternity."
Daalumos began to shimmer and fade, "my Mistress may have need for you Succubus."
The BloodLust was gone.
Phoebe sat on her throne in thought when a rush of flames revealed Daalumos' return. His hooves echoed on the stone floor as he turned about and shook himself.
"Welcome back," Phoebe said.
Daalumos chuckled, "thank you my Mistress. I bear news."
Phoebe nodded, "regale me."
"Phoetor has been caged and exiled to the Abyss," the BloodLust informed her. "By Marduk Kurios."
"Marduk Kurios? The one who tricks the believers of the one God by using the alias of Devil? How," Phoebe asked confused.
Daalumos laughed, "there is a Succubus named Iia chained to a cliff for refusing his service. If you free her at the very least she may answer all your questions. At most, she may pledge your service."
"If nothing else; she can answer questions," Phoebe said and began donning her armor then the cloak and sword of Vulcan.
Once she was clan in the Styxion armor and ready Phoebe climbed up onto the BloodLust's back.
"We must hurry as time passes slower there Daalumos," Phoebe ordered.
They were consumed in a rush of flame and appeared a distance away from the cliff. Daalumos approached. Not realizing who was before her Iia said nothing and simple hung in her chains.
"Look upon me Succubus," Phoebe ordered.
Iia gazed at the rocks littering the ground, "have your sport and be done."
"Charming isn't she Mistress," Daalumos chuckled.
The Succubus snapped her head up at the familiar voice and then her eyes narrowed in recognition, "You. Master's offspring with the Punisher."
Phoebe remarked casually, "I am Phoebe. Goddess of Nightmares, Succubus. My servant informs me that you claimed Phoetor has been defeated and imprisoned."
Iia sighed, "yes. Marduk Kurios defeated him on this very battlefield. Master retreated to his own walls before Marduk Kurios claimed victory over Him. A month ago."
"Almost a year on the Mortal plane Mistress," Daalumos clarified.
"Gloat your revenge Phoebe of Nightmares and leave me be," Iia muttered.
Phoebe edged Daalumos closer, "you answered my questions Succubus. I will release you."
Iia laughed, "Marduk chained me himself and laughed there is no release but by his key. Your arrogance is the first amusement I've had since that day."
Phoebe drew the sword and sliced through the first shackle freeing her left wrist. The Succubus stared in disbelief.
"The thought of leaving you half-freed could be entertaining for such insult," Phoebe stated.
Iia stared at the destroyed shackle her wrist had been in moments ago, "Marduk Kurios said there was no release but by Him. These chains were made for him by Zahgurim."
The Succubus looked down, "Goddess I beg your forgiveness!"
The second shackle was cut through and the Succubus fell to the ground. She knelt down and bowed.
"Thank you Goddess," Iia groveled.
Phoebe slid off Daalumos' back and eased the sword tip to Iia's collar and sliced through it, "your service to Phoetor has ended."
Iia sat up, "I no longer serve Phoetor?"
Quickly she covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn't remember calling Him by name, only Master.
"Fool Succubus. That collar had compulsion cast upon it. Phoetor claimed you in battle years ago. You were nothing more than an amusement for his court. He took you when I still in his castle," Phoebe informed her.
Iia thought back and realized every act she committed in Phoetor's court had been for his amusement. Her memory fully returned and she remembered the day He first showed her the collar. Informing her she would be nothing more than a plaything. Exploited for the court's amusement. How she had been compelled to profess love for him while being used by the courtiers, one after another. The false happiness that he was pleased with the act.
Daalumos snorted then said, "Mistress. I left something atop the cliff."
Phoebe climbed up onto his back and they made their way to the top. The freed Succubus following slowly behind, almost numbly as all her memories were still coming back. When they reached the place Daalumos pawed a bag from between some rocks.
"A tribute to my Mistress," the BloodLust chuckled.
Phoebe eased off and collected the bag and looked inside, "Underworld coins? How did you get these?"
"Poena the Punisher. She wanted to know your disposition towards Her. I made her pay to find out," Daalumos laughed.
Phoebe counted them then hooked the bag to point on her belt, "not much. Perhaps enough for a gift."
The BloodLust roared with laughed, "I have no doubt who would receive such a gift!"
"To the narrows of the River Styx," Phoebe commanded.
Daalumos reared up on his hind legs and shrieked with glee as a rush of flame engulfed them both. A moment later, they reappeared along the bank in the same manner. Daalumos walked along for a few minutes then stopped in front of a house as the door opened.
"Its been some time Phoebe of Nightmares," a woman stated.
Phoebe nodded, "it has Megaera."
"Sisters! Phoebe of Nightmares has come to us again," Megaera called out.
Two other women came to the door.
"What brings you to us young Goddess," one asked in a far away voice.
The third nodded to her, "yes. Your armor seems in proper form."
Phoebe glanced to the second, "I have need of the creation of a gift Alecto. I will present it to the mortal girl who is growing to be my War-priestess, Tisiphone. A sword."
Tisiphone; vengeful destruction, smiled coldly. "such would come with a price Goddess of Nightmares. You must give of your blood for a weapon wielded in your service. She must give of her maiden's blood to wield it."
"She must sacrifice to the sword in your name her purity," Alecto of eternity stated.
Megaera of jealous rage affirmed, "upon the onset of her bloom."
Phoebe shifted her position, "well. For such a gift, it must be of great beauty and strength."
Phoebe handed them the bag of coins. The Furies counted the coins then nodded.
"This will be a sword of Netheranium," Tisiphone informed her.
Phoebe nodded, "accepted."
The Succubus made her appearance as the ore smelted. Phoebe used her gauntlet to scratch open her wrist and bleed into the molten metal. Soon it was cast into rough form then hammered into the final shape. The blade and handguard were etched, along with the pommel. The hilt was carefully wrapped then the edges were sharpened. Phoebe had spoken incantations the whole time. Finally the sword was slowly slid into a scabbard and presented to her.
"Your gift is complete," Alecto said.
Phoebe took it and nodded, "its a stunning gift. Perfect for her to claim vengeance with."
Tisiphone looked up, "she desires vengeance?"
"Of course. Her birth mother was brutalized by a group of mortals in front of her and died telling her to escape. I have found a family for her and they have all entered worship of me. This will be an appropriate gift for her," Phoebe told them.
Tisiphone retook the sword and unsheathed it. Quietly she whispered to the blade and shed a single tear to fall onto the hilt then gave it back.
"This sword will not be satisfied until it has drank those mortals' blood," Tisiphone informed her. "After that, she may pass it to the next of her maiden line with proper sacrifice."
Phoebe nodded her understanding.
The Succubus spoke up quickly, "take me with you Mistress! I will serve you!"
Alecto handed Phoebe a blank medallion. Phoebe focused her will and her insignia appeared on it then handed it to the Succubus.
Iia put the gold chain around her neck and bowed. A rush of flames rose up and all three were gone. They reappeared in the secret room on the mortal plane.
"Is this home Mistress," Iia asked looking around.
Phoebe dismounted Daalumos, "yes. Go in there and you may bathe."
The Succubus left to do so. Phoebe concealed the sword then removed her cloak, sword and armor. When Iia returned Phoebe was sitting on her throne.
"Why did the Mistress bring us here, " Iia asked Daalumos.
Daalumos shook himself, "we have interests here on the mortal plane. Tomorrow night we will visit the priestess."
"Why do we not go now," Iia asked puzzled.
"Because our Mistress has daytime activities. She uses a Glamoured form. Its actually rather amusing. She gained fame faster as a mortal than as herself. It is only recently that she has become accepted as a Goddess by the mortals," Daalumos chuckled.
Phoebe's eyes closed as Daalumos told of their tales together. The Succubus stayed enthralled as their Mistress slept until dawn.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 17 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Patrick entered the main doors and signed in at the office. She took the sign-in board and handed him some notices. He went to the Dining Hall and took the usual table. Halfway through his reading Doril Hunley came over to his table and took a seat.
"Morning. All the new sets of armor arrived yesterday. Everything is to our preferences," Doril stated then handed over a page.
Patrick read it over then took a pen from his inside jacket pocket and made notation, "some things may not be needed this time around. It will benefit all if they understand them. Arrange a meeting tomorrow afternoon to do that. The match-ups are being made now. They will be done the usual way with one exception. I have the first match and my opponent has already been selected."
"By whom," Doril asked.
Patrick shifted to the next notice, "by me. An example is going to be made Hunley. A very big and permanent example. All I require is a bit of stupidity. I have no doubt my opponent will oblige. Anything else?"
"Not at this time," Doril replied and stood up then added quietly. "Commander."
Patrick nodded without looking and the Fourth year left. The exchange went almost unnoticed. Except for Fiona Doucet, Vaan Arento and Jessica Weyden. Jessica then noticed Fiona looking at her and knew the Countess saw that she had been watching as well. The shake of her head was slight but enough for Jessica to understand. The message was clear; say and do nothing. Jessica had other ideas though. carefully she began counting the coins in her jacket pocket. All she had was ten. Hopefully that would be enough for what she wanted, otherwise it would at least pay for a meeting.
Jessica dropped off her tray and left. She went down the corridor and found a place to loiter.
Patrick finished his reading as others were leaving and did so as well. He was about to turn a corner when Jessica Weyden called out quietly off the main corridor.
"Solo Fotens," Jessica called the waved him over.
Patrick followed her into a connecting hall, "what is it Weyden?"
"I have a problem. How much for a consultation," Jessica asked.
"Just tell me what it is you want Weyden," Patrick said flatly.
Jessica sighed then said, "All the Royals that were Selected have had their armor sabotaged. All but mine. I believe someone may be trying to implicate me. There's also that business about Lamia being blackmailed to turn against me."
Patrick held out his hand, "give me a coin Weyden."
Jessica blinked, "just one?"
"Today Weyden," Patrick said.
Jessica gave him the coin, "alright. Now what?"
Patrick pocketed it, "the armor situation has already been dealt with. As for Tuala, that's being looked into by other people more suited to that task. You are not a suspect Weyden."
"Thank you," Jessica sighed in relief then handed him five more coins. "Sorry to bother you."
"Weyden," Patrick nodded then left.
Ren Belvin looked over the sheet of the first round match-ups. With the exception of one, all were set according to points. After looking it over again he noticed a problem. After the first round there would be a stand-alone.
"There'll have to be a drawing for the stand-alone," Sir Belvin said to himself. "Can't be helped."
The Jousting instructor began assembling The Board. An ornate board that would hold movable name plates. He placed the name plates along the bottom row. From there they would move up by victory until one name climbed to the top. This year would be vastly difference. That was because of the Solos. All but one in the Selection now had some kind of field experience. The big concern was the first match-up. Patrick Fotens and Bon Loreen. Loreen had non-regulation lances. One a battle lance.
Sir Belvin stared at Patrick's name, "what are you up to Fotens? Why do you want him first up?"
"You know what they say about people that talk to themselves," an amused voice said from the doorway.
Sir Belvin groaned, "don't start with me Prince Arento."
Vaan chuckled, "now where would be the fun in that Sir Belvin? AH! You've set the board!"
Sir Belvin placed a cover over the board, "Shouldn't you be in a class or chasing somebody around with flowers?"
"Actually I came to inform you that my new armor has arrived. I see no problems with my entry for Tournament," Vaan said.
Sir Belvin nodded, "that's nice Highness but the one you should be telling is the Headmaster."
"Already done. I asked him to tell you myself after I checked the fit. I am fit to compete now," the Prince said proudly then added. "He also instructed me to present him with the charges. I get the feeling that he will be presenting that to someone else."
Ren Belvin leaned back in his chair, "Arento you may have ninety-five percent of the Academy fooled but not me. Get to your point."
The Flamboyant Prince turned serious, "Very well Sir Belvin. If you insist. Do I have anything to be concerned about?"
"Have you seen the Selection list," Sir Belvin asked.
The Prince nodded.
Sir Belvin nodded back, "then I'd say you have plenty to be concerned about. Every one of the competitors, including yourself, is quite capable. Some are more formidable than others, but that's to be expected and will be seen. That's Tournament. You'll need all the skills you've acquired, but only one name will go all the way."
"Actually I was wondering if there is more than that to be of concern," Vaan said.
"If there is then the Academy would be addressing such concern Highness. All you need be concerned about is your performance," Sir Belvin said firmly then nodded to the door.
Prince Vaan took the not so subtle hint and left. He had what he wanted. The Academy was indeed investigating and the first match-ups.
"Loreen is no match for Fotens; why are they paired and the first to compete," Vaan asked himself.
The Prince stopped and looked out a window to the grassy fields below. Already there were stakes being driven to mark the campsites of visiting families. His own parents would be doing so. Many families would be setting up pavilions, much like war camps. Twenty square yards of allotted territory. Essentially a tent city for the weekend. Two rounds of competition on the first day and final rounds on the second. All this while a festival would be held featuring stands and booths by business and student collectives. Three platoons of Solos from the Tenth Battalion would patrol along with two platoons from the Tenth Regiment.
Patrick walked out the main doors and went to the Solos' Stable. He mounted Daemon and rode out. Outside the gate the Commander of the Nineteenth Regiment met up with him.
"Eighty-Sixth Commander Patrick Fotens," He greeted.
Patrick nodded back, "Nineteenth Commander Fahr Reton."
They were alone in all directions but continued to ride towards the village.
"Its my understanding you've done preliminary investigation and produced notable results," Fahr remarked.
Patrick nodded, "I found two. Not the source. Someone is moving in the background. Using others."
"The Fourth Battalion has been contracted at your recommendation," Commander Reton informed him.
Patrick asked, "Do they need anything from me?"
The elder commander shook his head, "they have everything you presented to the Headmaster. I was informed that you intend to face the student with non-competition lances. Are you prepared in case he uses a battle lance?"
"Yes. Tomorrow all the Solos will have a class at the farm for that," Patrick stated.
Fahr Reton edged ahead and came to a stop, Patrick did the same.
"Are you implying that you want him to try that first," Reton asked.
Patrick nodded.
Comprehension hit Commander Reton like a lance at full gallop, "you want it revealed that he used a battle lance to be able to demand the contest go from official to personal duel."
Again the younger Solo Commander nodded.
"Do you intend to kill the boy as an example," Fahr asked.
Patrick sat silently and made no indication.
The older Commander stared intently, "I see. There could be repercussions if this is not done correctly."
"There is only one way. Postpone introduction until we are both ready to make our run. Then reveal my rank. Should he use any non-regulation lance then it will be cheating. Use of a battle lance will be attempted murder of a Regimental Commander," Patrick stated.
Fahr nodded, "without your rank revealed it could be considered a school rivalry. Revealing your rank would leave no doubt his intent is murder of a Regiment Commander."
"Tournament competition is non-deadly. The killing or attempting to kill a Regimental Commander outside contracted battle is murder and a Regimental Commander is within rights to declare duel to the death without repercussion or retribution," Patrick stated.
Commander Reton nodded, "the previous Commander taught you well. You will be within regulations Commander Fotens. I'll be on my way."
The two saluted each other and parted.
Phoebe walked into the chamber and noted Iia sat on the riser for her throne and Daalumos stood off to the side.
"Welcome back Mistress," Iia greeted her.
Daalumos chuckled, "another day of learning Mistress?"
"Yes. More Solos have been brought in and my services are no longer required for the investigation. The contract has been settled," Phoebe stated taking her throne.
Iia looked up, "Mistress I still do not understand why you hold hired warriors in regard and pretend to be one?"
Phoebe chuckled, "of all the mortals; they are the most like ourselves. When a pact is made with them, they adhere only to the terms of that contract. The only allegiance they have is to their-selves."
"They are the most like ourselves of the mortals," the Succubus agreed. "Forgiven my ignorance Mistress."
Phoebe shook her head, "you are uneducated in the ways of mortals and that is not your fault. It has taken us a long time to learn what we know. There is still more to learn Iia. Watch and listen to the mortals. You will be meeting some tonight."
"The Priestess your Lust spoke of," Iia remarked.
"Yes. Rest now. We will leave as the moon rises," Phoebe informed them.
Hours later Daalumos ran at full speed. Phoebe and Iia the Succubus rode on his back, slipping in and out of shadows. Suddenly they felt the infusion of worship flowing into them.
"MISTRESS! WHAT IS THIS FEELING," Iia asked in surprise.
Daalumos laughed, "THIS is worship! THIS IS POWER!"
The Succubus tremor-ed in pleasure, "please mistress. Let me keep feeling this worship!"
"Stay with us Iia. You'll feel it every day," Phoebe stated as Daalumos took them through one last shadow.
A rush of flames roared up and Daalumos broke forth to rear up on his hind legs and shriek his pleasure.
A woman came to the open doorway of a small temple and curtsied then turned back, "Mistress Sania! The Goddess has come!"
A little girl in a black dress ran out and curtsied, "GODDESS PHOEBE! LAMUDOS! WELCOME."
"Hello Sania," Phoebe returned the greeting.
Daalumos chuckled, "greetings little Priestess."
Phoebe nudged Iia to get off then dismounted. Sania rushed forward to hug her then patted the leg of the BloodLust.
"Its so good to see you," Sania smiled then looked to the third. "Goddess, who is she?"
Phoebe nodded to her, "introduce yourself to our Priestess."
"I am Iia. A Succubus in the service of Goddess Phoebe. This is my first time meeting a mortal," Iia said.
Sania nodded to her, "I'm Sania Malzeek. Taken daughter of Lord and Lady Malzeek and WarPriestess to our Goddess Phoebe."
Phoebe made her way inside the temple and took her place on the replica throne, resting a wrapped object against the armrest. Moments later the remaining family entered and paid their respects. The son being the last.
"My Goddess," he greeted her and bowed proudly.
Phoebe nodded, "what news have you, Young Malzeek?"
He smiled broadly, "Goddess; I have been accepted to the Institute of Finance. I begin the next session, for four terms."
"I know you will excel Mica Malzeek," Phoebe stated confidently.
Iia noticed the regally dressed woman looking her over.
Celia Malzeek looked over, "Goddess. Is she in your service?"
"She is. Her name is Iia. She is a Succubus," Phoebe stated. "Iia. She is Celia, Lady of Malzeek. Chosen mother of our WarPriestess."
Celia looked her over again then knelt close to Phoebe to speak quietly, "my Goddess; her attire is lacking for a Succubus if the stories I've heard are true."
Phoebe regarded Iia intently, "I see your point. A Succubus should, at the least, look somewhat seductive. Take her to your chambers and see to it. The charm about her neck is to stay on. That way she may find me."
"Of course my Goddess," Celia said then took Iia's hand. "Let's get you taken care of quickly."
Iia hadn't even the thought to protest and found herself swept along behind the mortal woman. An hour later they were back. The Succubus looked very much more like a demoness of seduction. She had been given a short tunic of red and black sheer material. She had also been given a pair of sandals with black and red straps and a high slender heel. With suggestions from Celia and the maid, Iia used her magic to change her hair and facial appearance.
Phoebe nodded her approval, "much better. Iia; when the time comes for Mica Malzeek to begin pursuing a love interest, it would benefit him well to understand the pleasures of company. The Gentle arts of Allure. I'm sure he'll be quite the attentive student."
The young teen blushed as the demoness looked him over. She then went over to him and gingerly caressed his brow. Mica found his arms guided to encircle her waist and hold her close. Iia softly nuzzled his cheek and he felt the urge to gently press his lips to her cheek then slowly release her from the embrace.
Iia smiled, "he is a QUICK study Mistress. When his time comes he will be well versed in the Gentle arts."
Phoebe nodded then beckoned Sania closer, "I have a gift for you little Priestess."
Sania watched as Phoebe unwrapped the package and stared in wonder at the sword.
"Really Goddess? I can have it," Sania asked in awe.
Phoebe pulled it from the scabbard and the gold tinted glimmered in the torchlight for to be admired.
"This sword will be yours Child. In time. Everyone outside but her and her parents," Phoebe instructed.
Everyone exited the temple. The Captain began to speak with Daalumos, asking if the stable-mechanic may look at him close to better imitate Sania's horse. Iia already instructing Mica about his expressions when facing females.
Phoebe raised a barrier once everyone was out that blocked entrance and prevented voices inside to be heard outside.
"This sword was forged for you Child. It will only serve Me. A price must be paid for you to wield it. The price comes in two parts by blood," Phoebe informed them.
Tam Malzeek asked, "what price must she pay Goddess?"
Phoebe laid the sword on the alter, "She must offer her blood to the sword to make the pledge. Not much is required and from her hand will do. After that, only she may take the sword. However, that will only happen if she sacrifices the proof of her maidenhood to the sword. Her blood tonight pledges the sword, on the eve of her sixteenth year she must sacrifice her maidenhood and give the proof to the sword as payment. Only then will it truly be hers. From then on, any maiden of her line may wield the sword in my service after that same price is paid."
Nervously Celia asked, "who is to deflower her?"
Phoebe looked at her intently, "herself. She must do so on her own."
Celia knelt down and held Sania close while she whispered to her then finally pulled back, "do you understand now?"
"What about when I get married? A good man won't want me if I do," Sania asked.
Phoebe shook her head, "not true. A good one will overlook that. It will not make you less in his eyes. It may even make you more. Your parents will ensure he is suitable."
"I'll do it," Sania said. "How Goddess?"
Phoebe laid the sword on the altar, "use the blade itself Sania."
Sania reached out and pressed her palm against the edge as best she could then slid it forward. Quickly she felt the bite and a burning sensation.
"Ow. Now what do I do," she asked with a slight whimper.
Phoebe pointed to the base of the blade, "let it drink from here."
The small girl pressed her bleeding palm to the spot. For a moment nothing then blade began to glow then words began to appear on the blade. Sania looked at them. They looked like the same type of words she had carved into the altar and Phoebe had etched into her shield.
"Mama. Papa. What do these words say," Sania asked.
Both looked at her in confusion and Celia asked, "what words dear? I see no words."
Sania pointed at the blade, "the words right here. On the sword."
"We see none," Tam Malzeek gently informed her.
Phoebe nodded, "they do not see them. Only you and I can see them. That is the language of the Underworld. Learn it well before the eve of your sixteenth year."
"The night before your sixteenth birthday," Celia told Sania.
Sania nodded, "I will."
Phoebe slid the sword to the back edge of the altar then concealed the scabbard underneath the top. She looked over to Tam.
"Try to remove the sword Malzeek," Phoebe instructed.
Lord Malzeek grasped the hilt and tried to lift it. The sword refused to move. Next Celia tried, she could not do so either.
Phoebe looked down to Sania, "there it will stay until you pay the price and claim the sword. Only you can do this. I must go now."
The three followed Phoebe out as the barrier faded. Outside a robotic horse was being painted as Daalumos posed himself. Iia was discussing Mica's hair with him as two maids were nodding with enthusiasm.
"If things go well; Iia will teach him the arts of Passion," Phoebe told the Malzeeks after the Succubus rejoined them.
Tam Malzeek asked, "are you certain Goddess?"
"I believe that whomever our son marries will be ensured a more pleasant wedding night than her peers and definitely further nights of enjoyment in their marriage bed," Celia said barely containing a giggle.
Phoebe nodded, "a plan far better than an hour or two with some random village girl."
Tam Malzeek shifted uncomfortably and looked elsewhere. Phoebe and Iia noticed but said nothing of it.
"Its time for us to go," Phoebe called over to Daalumos.
The BloodLust trotted over and Phoebe leaped up onto his back followed by Iia. Daalumos reared up and shrieked as flames engulfed them then were gone.
Patrick rode into the Academy and stabled Daemon. He entered the main doors and signed in then proceeded to the Dining Hall to read and wait. The morning went without incident and by noon the first of visiting families began to arrive. They went into the Dining hall and were greeted by their children. King and Queen Weyden were among them. Both made sure to see and be seen by Patrick and nodded to him. Like other parents that had attended the Academy they took the time to greet the Headmaster and other familiar faces. That afternoon the Commanders of Solo Regiments began to filter in. Some, were the Commanders of the Solos enrolled; others were coming in to look over and scout the ones without affiliation.
Fiona Doucet greeted them as well and pretended not to notice the subtle nods they gave Patrick. Many openly approached him. Those gave the impression they were trying to recruit him.
"That's a Solo Commander. Isn't he," a Gentry asked Fiona.
Fiona nodded, "yes. I didn't notice which Regiment though."
"Isn't Fotens the only member of his Regiment," the Second year asked.
"So I've heard. Perhaps that Commander is trying to recruit him. He can join another Regiment if asked since he's the last member," Fiona remarked. "Its all standard. I'm not surprised. I doubt any Regiment would refuse him."
The Gentry nodded his understanding and moved off. Fiona pretended to give no further regard but actually was paying attention to see him move over to a table and begin talking to Jeffries Talfar and Eaton Laanower. The Countess also noted that the affiliated Solos were introducing their Commanders to Patrick and Doril Hunley. Later on, after classes had concluded for the day, Fiona noticed that down in the tent city no pavilions for the Solos had been raised. She quickly went down and looked around and saw no places had been allotted for them. In fact, other than the Solos that had begun to patrol the area, none were around. She then felt the creeping sensation that she was being watched and looked around but there was no one actually paying her any mind. As she moved off a rogue gust of wind whipped through and flipped her skirt up in the back. The Countess could almost swear she heard a feminine giggle afterward and the feeling of being watched ended.
Iia couldn't resist teasing the pretty one all the mortal boys couldn't keep their eyes off of. She had been lurking about the Academy, invisible, to see the mortals her Glamoured mistress spent so much time around to learn of them better. When the sun set she would then go back to the village and watch the other mortals to see better how they interacted with each other. The Succubus knew she had much to learn before she began her teaching in earnest.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 18 of
The Nightmare Rider |
The stands had filled quickly and were very noisy. Many could be seen holding wager slips from betting booths. The Board had been placed just after sunrise that morning. The main, reputable, Bookmakers had been waiting for it. Most already knew the Selection list and had taken wagers for favorites. The match-ups were the main concern now. People would want to mostly gamble on those. The odds would be in constant flux. Odds increased with victory. A single loss took a Selection out of Tournament. Very few actually placed large bets before the match-ups were posted. Many were familiar with the match-ups, mostly by points acquired. Some even paid Second year students to keep them informed of those points. It was no great surprise to see many of the match-ups.
Ben Surlaang against Sera Arden. Norr Luunos against Lara Tarika. Kern Winnower against Hevrin Aulder. Hirz Kez against Bron Zako. Klin Makaal against Goron Favell. Lyle Matrileek against Eaton Laanower. Aruna Moning against Fay Merfin. Doril Hunley against Moor Falek. Dirk Sharvot against Vaan Arento. Dagar Voluntas against Jeffries Talfar. Danze Marow against Debrie Beon. Ziekell Loxtonia against Jessica Weyden. Den Irth against Ponz Gerrare. Bon Loreen against Patrick Fotens.
Match order was randomly determined, which was expected. After a few Tournaments it had been decided that way to keep the spectators interested in all the matches. Several of the Bookmakers though could be seen talking among themselves and shaking their heads. It was the first match that had them confused as they re-checked their information. Bon Loreen and Patrick Fotens weren't even close in points, that is what had them all puzzled.
Bess Ginaar looked around then carefully pulled away the black strip from the shoulder of Patrick's armor to reveal the Regiment Commander insignia. Patrick nodded to her as she reached over and handed him his helm. Rositor Jazorr checked the shield. Only someone who knew exactly what they were looking for would be able to detect the water-wrap. A thin transparent film had been attached to the shield and held with special clips. The space between would then be filled with water. Long ago, a battle had been fought just as a thunderstorm broke. The falling rain began to short and nullify the plasma of the battle lances. Solos found a way to exploit that. Before battle they would secretly apply a film and fill the space between with water. Due to the impact most never noticed the spray of water as the lance struck the shield. The plasma would crackle and spark harmlessly, the Solo would only suffer impact damage. The opposing rider would suffer from the Solo's battle lance that would burn through and down the rider, usually in death.
"Everything is set," Doril Hunley said quietly as he walked up. "Sir Belvin will announce you himself. Its all in your hands now Commander Fotens."
Patrick nodded and sheathed his combat sword, "as I said; all I need is a bit of stupidity and I'm sure my opponent will oblige."
The Fourth year nodded. They all watched as Patrick mounted Daemon then took his shield. Carefully he held it to conceal the insignia and followed his two squires into the arena. On the other side Bon Loreen took note of his arrival and took a lance from his squire. Patrick snapped his visor down then took a lance from Rositor and moved to the starting position. Loreen took position as well. Now was the point of no return. If the Gentry had taken a battle lance he would be forced to use it. To discard it would indicate there was something not right about his lances and call for immediate inspection.
Sir Belvin spoke over the speakers, "WELCOME TO TOURNAMENT!"
The crowd in the stands cheered loudly.
"FIRST CONTEST. SOUTH LANE; BON LOREEN, GENTRY OF RANOM. NORTH LANE; PATRICK FOTENS, EIGHTY-SIXTH REGIMENT FREELANCERS' COMMANDER," Sir Belvin announced.
Though the crowd continued to show their excitement, many had been stunned. Only once in the last seventy-five years had a Regiment Commander been enrolled and rode in Tournament. Needless to say several young people left their seats to inform the betting booths. On the opposite end of the lane, Bon Loreen frowned inside his helm.
"If that was supposed to trip me up; it didn't," he said to himself.
The Flagman strode out proudly and took his place at the mid-point of the lanes. The crowd's noise level decreased. He checked Loreen and nodded at the ready signal then checked Fotens and nodded at his. The flag was held out.
"GO," the Flagman yelled and ran clear.
Loreen spurred his horse to bolt off the start and tore for the opposite end. The Gentry sat straight in his saddle and held the lance even with his line, aiming dead-center and activated the plasma charging. In motion like he was, no one would see it until it penetrated the shield and by then it would be all over for the Solo.
Daemon lunged forward and raced toward the oncoming rider. Patrick then leaned forward slightly and angled his shield down and in. The lance was held slightly back from line, aiming to the right and below center. Patrick knew it would slide harmlessly off. Just as planned.
The clash of the impacts almost echoed in the arena, but to Bon's horror his lance tip hit the shield and less than a heartbeat after, there was a loud crackling sound and sparks flew. Patrick's lance tip broke, but not completely off.
Immediately there began shouts from the stands, "BATTLE LANCE! ILLEGAL! ILLEGAL!"
Others heard and began to call out, "CHEAT! CHEAT!"
Patrick wheeled Daemon around, jumped the lane divider and threw down his lance and shield as he bailed off angrily.
"PLEASE WAIT FOR THE WORD FROM THE OFFICIALS," Sir Belvin announced then went out with four others who had ran out immediately.
The officials and Sir Belvin examined the lance and all began to look angrily over at Loreen.
Loudly Sir Belvin shouted, "LOREEN! YOU USED A BATTLE LANCE IN TOURNAMENT, KNOWING IT IS ILLEGAL! YOU ARE HEREBY DISQUALIFIED FROM TOURNAMENT AND WITH THE HEADMASTER'S AGREEMENT; EXPELLED!"
"HOLD," Patrick called out after raising his visor. "WHEN HE USED A BATTLE LANCE IT WAS NO LONGER COMPETITION. TRYING TO KILL A COMMANDER OUTSIDE CONTRACT BATTLE IS MURDER. THIS IS NOW A PERSONAL MATTER, CLEAR THE FIELD!"
Four members of the Second Regiment had ridden out and blocked any attempt by the Gentry to flee the field. Many of the crowd gasped in shock as Patrick drew his combat sword.
"Off that horse. You wanted a fight and now you got it," one of the Solos remarked to Loreen.
Slowly Bon dismounted and took an offered sword. Cautiously he stood in place and brought his visor back down as the angry Solo Commander advanced. Everything about the young man in black and green armor telegraphed anger. The Gentry knew this was going to be a fight to the death. A death, more than likely to be his own.
The first swing of Loreen's sword missed, throwing him past Patrick. Unfazed Patrick stayed on the advance using every thrust and slash to move his opponent backward. The strikes from the laser-edged sword merely nicked and scratched Loreen's armor. Bon tried to defend, but any attempt to counter-attack was thwarted. In short he realized quickly that he was being toyed with.
Patrick stayed on the offensive. With every thrust and slash, he pulled back slightly at the last instant. This lasted for almost five minutes and Bon Loreen backed up into a wall. There was nowhere left to retreat to. Any move to the side to try escape was met with a powerful slash that scarred the wall, keeping him in place. Finally he dropped the sword and fell to his knees holding his arms out in surrender.
"I yield," Gentry Loreen stated and looked to the sand underneath him.
Patrick used the tip of his sword to fling the helmet off the guilty Gentry, "Your head is mine unless you have something more valuable to surrender."
"Lord Eaton. Lord Eaton Laanower. He bought the lances. He paid me twenty thousand to do it," Bon Loreen said quietly.
"Proof," Patrick snarled.
Bon nodded, "I have it written down and signed by him. The right pocket of my saddle. The squires for me are his too."
The Headmaster had approached and heard the exchange. He signaled for the horse to be brought over and searched the saddle to find the paper. He read it then waved two Second Regiment Solos over and quietly instructed them.
"Commander Fotens. I ask for this young man's life. You may confiscate the coinage promised in exchange for it," the Headmaster offered.
Bon quickly agreed, "its in my duffle at the Ices stand."
One of the Solos rode out and returned with the heavy sack of money.
Patrick looked inside and mulled it over then finally nodded, "for his life. Done."
Bon sighed in relief then screamed as Patrick's sword swung up suddenly and severed the arm between a gap in the armor on the underside. Medical staff rushed over to attend the Gentry.
Patrick turned, sheathing his sword, "he will live."
The crowd sat stunned. Most had no idea what all had happened, only what they could see. Patrick walked over to his horse and led him out. His squires had already collected his shield and lance.
"Due to Competition misconduct; Gentry Bon Loreen had been disqualified and expelled. Tournament will continue in a few minutes," Sir Belvin announced.
Four Solos approached the Nobles ready area and stopped, looking directly at Eaton Laanower.
"Laanower," one of the Solos stated. "Tenth Battalion Freebooters. You will come with us. Disarm him."
Two of the Solos gave the young Lord harsh looks, as if challenging him to refuse the instructions, and took his sword and dagger. Each held him by the arm on either side and roughly escorted him out.
"If any more have the idea that cheating will serve you, forget it. The one who just tried is not availible to consult you," the Solo group leader commented then left to follow his men.
Lord Eaton soon found himself in the Headmaster's office and roughly shoved forward to stand in front of the desk. Both his parents stood to the side looking angry.
Eaton gathered himself and glared, "what is the meaning of THIS?"
"You've been disqualified and are now being expelled," Baron Laanower replied hotly.
The Baroness glared at him angrily, "thank you for this great HONOR you've contributed to the family name."
Eaton stormed to the desk and demanded, "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
The Headmaster held up the page, "the evidence against you. Your parents have already compared it to sample of your own handwriting. It also has been compared to a receipt from a supplier in the village for an order of lances made to look as if they come from the school armory. Including a battle lance. Not even the worst Solo Regiment will take you now."
"I think it would be best if he avoided all Solos. As he just tried to have a Commander killed," the Commander of the Second Regiment remarked.
"What Commander? That fool was supposed to bring down Fotens," Eaton said angrily then realized his mistake.
Baron Laanower backhanded his son, "IDIOT! Fotens IS a Commander! That's what makes it all the worse!"
"A member of your household staff is currently collecting your belongings watched over by one of the instructors. Also there is the matter of trying to blackmail Lamia, Lady Tuala. Your handwriting matched that note as well," the Headmaster added.
Baron Laanower stared his son down, "I know you too well Eaton. You're not SMART enough to come up with this on your own!"
Eaton glared back, "Well then. I guess I'm on my own now!"
"Oh no. That's where you're very wrong," Baroness Rika Laanower said. "In fact you will be under closer watch than you've ever been! I know now why the Goddess blessed us with your brother and sisters. To make up for you!"
The Baron asked the Headmaster, "Headmaster. My youngest daughter; instead of joining the Sisterhood as per family tradition, would you allow her to attend the Academy? You have my oath that she will be the epitome of nobility and will not bring one breath of scandal."
"How old is she," the Headmaster asked.
The Baroness said proudly, "two Headmaster. She just had her birthday last month."
That surprised the Headmaster, "ah. Yes. That being the case; I believe she'll be acceptable."
Eaton stared angrily at his parents, "turn me out; see if I care!"
"You'd like that wouldn't you? Unfortunately for all of us that cannot be allowed," Baron Cane Laanower remarked then leaned in close. "However we must protect your siblings from your corrupt influence as well. You've forced our hand, we will be sending you to Fortress Hawk's Rock."
The young noble stood stunned. Hawk's Rock Fortress was an old fortress that sat atop a mountain that rose out of an alpine lake surrounded be mountains that were even higher. To date, no one who had ever managed to escape it had lived. Most that tried, were only doing so to jump to their death. It was where families and kingdoms hid their embarrassments. The guards there were Solos, but the battalion was unspecified. They wore no markings on their plain dull silver armor. To be publicly humiliated was kinder and Eaton Laanower knew it.
Eaton protested, "you CAN'T send me there!"
"You left us NO choice Eaton," Rika Laanower replied. "I have no idea why you even thought you could get away with such behavior. It goes against all we've taught you! You've humiliated us with this. We'll be spending a fortune to make amends with the families and Kingdom you've offended. Hopefully the Solo Commander will accept restitution to keep us off the list!"
Cane nodded, "trying to kill a Battalion or Regimental Commander outside contracted battle is MURDER. You may have only provided the means and hired some fool to attempt it, but you are still guilty! More so than that boy who just had his arm taken off by the Commander! He could demand your life and be within rights. Right now the way YOU'RE acting, I'd be tempted to allow it without trying to negotiate!"
"I think we're done here Baron, Baroness. I believe that if you wait in the lounge. You will be able to conclude matters before you leave for home," the Headmaster suggested.
The Baron nodded," thank you Headmaster. Again, we offer our apologies for this debacle."
The Baron then turned to his Captain, "take my Son back to the tent and get him changed. Coordinate with this squad of Solos to ensure he doesn't try to wander off. He is to have no visitors or contact with anyone. No letters or notes from or to him."
The Captain nodded as did the Solo squad leader. Eaton was then roughly taken out.
Down in the arena Ben Suurlang had defeated Sera Arden and would be advancing to the second round later that day. In the ready areas the Gentry and Nobles were clamoring for information. All they knew was that the first match had taken a dramatic turn. A Third year Solo was actually a Regiment Commander that had faced a Gentry trying to murder him with a battle lance which resulted in a duel costing the Gentry his arm. A side note that a Noble had been removed by Solos and now there was a scramble to rearrange two match-ups.
Norr Luunos and Lara Tarika hurried to get into the Arena before their own match changed. They had nothing to worry about actually. Neither did Kern Winnower or Hevrin Aulder who faced off afterward, followed by Hirz Kez against Bron Zako. The bookmakers were more than glad as those contests were within their projections. Bron Zako winning was no real surprise. Kern Winnower was strong as well. Lara Tarika was a minor surprise.
Many were now paying close attention when Goron Favell enter the arena to face Klin Makaal. The Fourth year Solo held a strong showing. Lyle Matrileek was offered the chance to face Fiona Doucet in place of the match against Eaton Laanower and he quickly agreed. Many thought it amusing when he stood up from the third unhorsing to wave his helmet smiling broadly. Fiona, ever the sport, rode over to lean down and kiss his cheek in consolation. Some in the stands threw flowers down to her as she waved and rode out. Her squires went in and collected them for her.
Very few noticed the party of Laanowers quietly leaving and within the next hour their set-up team began to take down their encampment.
Jeffries Talfar sat waiting for his name to be called. He had quite a bit longer to wait. Across the way in the Royals' area, he could see Vaan Arento up to his usual antics while Jessica Weyden sat with Lamia Tuala. Both young women were listening intently to the captain of the Lurbourg Royal Guard.
He, too, had seen Eaton taken away by the Solos and not return. When one of his servants whispered into his ear that the entire Laanower family left quietly, with Eaton under guard, Jeffries became concerned. There were too many opponents that could challenge him. It was a First year that gave him the most disturbing news. Eaton was not only disqualified from Tournament, he had also been expelled and his family was sending him to Hawk's Rock Fortress. Jeffries would have been able to take him on within his own private squad, but that was not possible if Eaton was sent to Hawk's Rock. Once in; there was no release for any reason.
Jeffries already knew his opponent; Dagar Voluntas. Unfortunately he was not on good terms with the Noble. In truth, Lord Dagar hated him. Many did so Dagar wasn't alone. Dagar took special mention due to the fact that Jeffries insulted Dagar's twin sister Diena. Diena Voluntas attended the Institute of Finance and was named the Student President there. Talfar had made one of his usual comments; stating that she was attending the Institute to become a more illustrious whore. The Third year had chosen long ago to make hand-to-hand combat his hobby. Talfar ended up spending a day and a half in the infirmary. Sometimes irony caught up with a person.
Dagar looked over at Jeffries and smirked then walked over to stand in front of him.
"Tournament has arrived. Finally," Dagar said with a hungry smile.
Talfar tried to shrug off the attitude, "I'm surprised you made it to my level."
Dagar nodded and turned to walk away, "yeah. I can't believe I had to hold back so much."
The future Duke was about to scoff, but stopped cold. Fourth years' points were always posted before Third years'. It would be easy to know what one needed to do to follow a certain individual and either be more aggressive or hold back to match them. Jeffries Talfar now knew he had been practically hunted the whole time!
The matches for Aruna Moning against Fay Merfin, Doril Hunley against Moor Falek, Dirk Sharvot against Vaan Arento all passed quickly. Aruna won by points, Doril Hunley won by unhorsing Moor Falek twice and points for the win. Vaan Arento left his masquerade behind and completely decimated Dirk Sharvot.
Talfar found himself staring down the lanes at Dagar Voluntas. It took all five lances to name the winner. Jeffries won by one lucky lance on the fifth run. However Lord Voluntas had made him pay heavily to earn it. He felt like his shoulder had almost dislocated. Dagar had learned deception well. For quite a while he had favored his right wrist and even dropped a few lances during training during the year. Talfar discovered that it had all been a ruse.
When facing an opponent with a weakened lance wrist, a frequent tactic would be to lean forward and hold the shield angled to be flat. That would increase the impact shock to the lance. That also increased the impact shock to the shield as well. Talfar falling for the ruse did have an effect. His shoulder had been strained from the strong grudge-holding Third year.
For the rest of the matches; Danze Marow won against Debrie Beon. Ziekell Loxtonia lost to Jessica Weyden. Den Irth had been merciless against Ponz Gerrare. The winners all gathered in the arena to see their names move up the board. Points would not determine placement now.
Sir Belvin read off the board, "Den Irth and Jeffries Talfar. Patrick Fotens and Kern Winnower. Vaan Arento and Goron Favell. Fiona Doucet and Bron Zako. Jessica Weyden and Doril Hunley. Danze Marow and Aruna Moning. Ben Surlaang has sustained injury and is being withdrawn. That concludes today's rounds of contest. Please enjoy the evening!"
The crowd cheered and clapped then began to filter out.
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 19 of
The Nightmare Rider |
Phoebe stepped into her chamber. Daalumos stood over in his usual place and Iia sat on the riser.
"The two of you enjoyed the spectacle today," Phoebe asked as she went to the bath.
The Succubus nodded excitedly and followed, "oh YES Mistress! I found myself not able to look away. The Riders looked so very serious and the crowd was almost a frenzy!"
"That's a good appraisal. Tournament is a very big event. Many look forward to it all year," Phoebe informed her.
Iia began to wash Phoebe's hair, "Mistress. Is it more than just a simple game of knocking each other off your horses?"
Phoebe tilted her head back to allow it, "Very much so. There are rules and scoring. I found it fascinating when I began to learn. It is an Art and a Science as the mortals say. As one told me, the whole objective is to take the energy from the ground and return it to the ground."
"I do not understand Mistress," Iia said and began to rinse Phoebe's hair.
Daalumos chuckled, "neither did we at first."
"The horse pushes against the ground to move. From the ground, up the legs to the rider. That energy then goes into the lance and stays until it hits the shield of the other rider. From the shield to the rider. From there it either dissipates or continues to the ground by the falling rider," Phoebe said.
Iia thought about that then shook her head, "I still do not understand."
Phoebe turned around to face her, "The horse pushes against the ground to move. That creates force. This force is then transferred using the lance to the shield. Where the lance hits the shield and the angle of the shield determines what happens. Force and angles. Leverage is what the mortals call it, using force to its most effectiveness. Mortals do not have powers, so they must use their science to do things. Hold your hand up."
Iia held up her hand. Phoebe placed her fist to it then pressed.
"This is force. I take it from the ground when I push with my feet. It transfers to my hand to yours. Now if I change the angle of my push, your hand moves in different directions," Phoebe explained then demonstrated, moving Iia's hand in different directions.
Iia smiled, "now I am beginning to understand Mistress."
Phoebe nodded, "yes. My fist is the lance and your hand is the shield. By changing the angle your shield faces, my lance will be redirected. "
After a few more minutes Iia laughed, "I understand now. How clever of the mortals!"
Phoebe settled back down into the water, "good. So what else have you learned of the mortals?"
"One thing is that appearance makes much of a difference. The more attractive a mortal is, the more others pay attention to them. Mostly though, its the challenge. The more a mortal seems to be unobtainable; the more the other mortals want them," the Succubus said.
Phoebe asked, "so if they can't take them; how do they get them?"
Iia pondered then smiled, "they lure the mortal to them!"
"Very good. How," Phoebe asked.
Iia said, "they entice. Their looks and manner draw the mortals in. Seduction."
"Go into the village and visit a tavern. You may very well see that happen. Go, but do not let them see or hear you," Phoebe instructed.
"Yes Mistress," Iia replied gleefully and rushed out.
Daalumos chuckled, "she is eager to learn."
Phoebe nodded, "good. Iia only knows use. She doesn't know seduction or pleasure. She was never allowed to interact with mortals before."
Phoebe then dipped under the water then lay back to rest. An hour later she climbed out and went back to her throne. Soon she slept. It was almost dawn when Iia returned.
The ready areas were bustling with activity. Third rounds were about to start. The match-up had been set since the end of the contests the day before. Den Irth and Jeffries Talfar. Patrick Fotens and Kern Winnower. Vaan Arento and Goron Favell. Fiona Doucet and Bron Zako. Jessica Weyden and Doril Hunley. Danze Marow and Aruna Moning. Expressions were ranging from serious to intense. Each rider knew the seriousness they now faced.
The Headmaster himself had inspected each lance that morning. Five assistants brought in lances that were inspected then bundled and set aside in the arena. None were tagged, the rider's squires would receive a bundle at random. The first contest went loudly as Irth and Talfar clashed. The fourth lance ended the contest with Den Irth slamming to the ground and leaving Jeffries Talfar the victor. Kern Winnower showed confidence facing the imposing figure of Patrick Fotens in the second contest but was unsuccessful in staying on his own horse three lances in a row.
Vaan Arento was merciless against Goron Favell. The solo held firm but lost to the Prince. Bron Zako suffered the same result when he faced Fiona Doucet. The Countess gave no quarter to the Solo and brought him down hard. Jessica Weyden rode against Doril Hunley and lost. The Princess showed her respect to him by saluting when she regained her footing after all three lances. Aruna Moning proved to be rather clever and managed to bring down Danze Marow.
Sir Belvin called a break in the Tournament for the remaining members to lunch then announced the match-ups. Aruna Moning against Fiona Doucet, Patrick Fotens against Vaan Arento, Doril Hunley against Jeffries Talfar. This unintentionally helped the bookmakers immensely. The odds so far were even for the contest of Hunley and Talfar. Two to one odds in favor of Patrick Fotens over Vaan Arento. Aruna though was holding at ten to one against Fiona.
"Mother, Father; I'm sorry. I just couldn't go any further," Jessica apologized to her parents.
Lellaa Weyden shook her head and smiled at her daughter, "you did well though. I am not disappointed."
Korvus Weyden nodded in approval, "You rode against very tough opponents and showed honor with each run. We are very proud of you, Jessica."
"What I do, what I don't do. It all comes back. I understand it all now," Jessica said solemnly. "I am Jessica Weyden. Princess of Lurbourg. I have a family and Kingdom. Any honor I earn or shame I fall to, is not my own."
The King of Lurbourg schooled his expression, "is that right? Go on Jessica."
Jessice nodded then stood straighter, "it is Father. I must do my best, at all times. But I must do so on my own. My skills and strength. My knowledge. I am not a Solo. Things do not start and stop with me. Things involving me also involve the family and Kingdom. Failing is not enjoyable. Failing because of lacking is acceptable."
"Acceptable," Lellaa asked in shock.
Jessica nodded, "yes Mother; acceptable. I accept that I must train harder. I will only be better if I BECOME better. To become better, I must train harder. That is the only way. Anything else would UN-acceptable. I am a Princess. The standards I am held to are higher."
The Queen smiled at her daughter, "and now I will stop calling you 'little girl', my daughter. Now come along; we'll get you cleaned up and have lunch."
Jessica smiled and went with Lamia to the Royals' Wardrobe.
Fiona had rushed through a quick clean-up and donned her alternate set of armor then joined her father for lunch.
"So," he prompted her.
Fiona sighed and looked over, "with a couple of exceptions things are going well."
The Count kept an even expression, "which translates to?"
"Oh Daddy, you're so transparent. I know what you want. You are SO convinced that Duke Talfar will agree to your terms if Jeffries and I marry," Fiona stated in a bored tone.
"Wrong my dear. He WILL," Count Doucet corrected.
Fiona shook her head, "no he won't. He never did so before and would have no reason to now. Not that it will matter."
"And what makes you say that," he asked.
Fiona leaned in, "Jeffries will have to face either Vaan Arento or Patrick Fotens to get to me. Neither one will show him ANY mercy. Provided he gets past Doril Hunley."
"Hunley? Isn't he a Solo with First Regiment," the Count asked.
"Yes. Patrick Fotens is the Commander of the Eighty-sixth Regiment," Fiona stated.
Count Doucet mulled that for a moment then asked, "let us say he does. He makes it to the finals with you. Will he win?"
Fiona sat back in her chair, "absolutely not."
"Oh," the Count asked.
Fiona went over to stand behind her father and hug him, "certainly. I'm going to utterly destroy that lecherous whore-monger. Too bad for your deal; DADDY."
Fiona kissed his cheek and smiled sweetly then walked out confidently, humming to herself.
Vaan Arento sat at a table with his family smiling as they talked.
"Well son; have you finally decided," King Brell Arento asked.
Holt Arento chuckled, "of course he has Father. Big brother will collect himself a bevy of girls!"
Raena swatted her younger brother, "shush Holt! Vaan must have his eye on one girl, and I'm sure she's wonderful. Isn't she Vaan?"
"Just one, sister? Is that all I'm allowed," Vaan asked slyly.
The Princess gave him a haughty glare, "of course! There can only be one BEST."
"She got you," Queen Veya chuckled.
Vaan regarded his younger sister warily then grabbed her into an hug and cuddled her, "just so CUTE! Alright. I'll introduce you after Tournament."
"Vaan! Off," Raena squealed and tried to push him away.
"But you're just so huggable! and ADORABLE! I have to keep you just like this," Vaan cooed then made loud smooching noises at her ear.
The young Princess struggled while demanding to be freed amid laughter by her younger sibling and parents.
Duke Talfar glared at Jeffries, "all your schemes are paying off."
"No idea to what you mean. Father," Jeffries stated.
Duke Talfar paused a moment then stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back, "oh you are INDEED lucky. Tournament is still ongoing and you are still in competition."
Jeffries stayed silent. He knew he had the advantage for the moment. However, its was only for the moment and he knew that as well. His father couldn't express his true displeasure, lest he risk Jeffries having to withdraw because of it.
The Duke leaned directly in and hissed, "I advise you not to lose. For YOUR sake. I hear that your lackey, Laanower, is taking up a new residence. Perhaps you too, could do with a change of locale?"
"You wouldn't," Jeffries glared back.
"Well now. You see I want this deal with Count Doucet. Which I will only get if you marry Fiona. Fiona will only marry you if she loses Tournament. I see three people definitely in the way of that. One of whom has good reason to put you down hard. Another that would do so just for the sheer enjoyment of it and one that has a personal stake. Fotens, a Solo COMMANDER. Arento, a Prince with peculiar tastes. A Doucet herself, for obvious reasons; she hates you. No more lackey, no more tricks. You had better be as good as you think you are son. Otherwise you are going to find yourself in a new situation," Duke Talfar said grimly.
Over in the Solos' ready area discussion was about everything but Tournament. Commanders were looking over records of the unaffiliated Solos and making notes. The subject of the new barracks at the farm was still being discussed, even though that was where all the Solos had made their camps. Workshops over the break were being scheduled.
"Commander Fotens," one of the other Commanders spoke up. "Who will be in charge while you are away on assignments?"
Patrick pointed to another, "Rassan has no official affiliation. I believe he should hold the rank of Captain of Second Platoon. When he graduates and is recruited to an official Regiment, the ranking unaffiliated Third year Solo may take up the rank for the following term. The Captain of Second Platoon will be in command after my graduation."
Many were nodding their approval and it was agreed to. The bells began to chime to signal the competitors to return.
Fiona and Aruna had the first match-up. Much credit had to go to Aruna. She had been studying the Countess intently. The first lance went to Fiona, but Aruna managed to sneak in a clever feint and took the second lance in surprise. The smile on Fiona's face was evident as she remounted with her visor up. The Duchess suddenly felt as if she had just stirred a hornets' nest. That became evident when Fiona then brought her down twice in a row.
Vaan Arento sat firmly in the saddle wearing his gold-tone armor with purple accents gleaming in the afternoon sun. Opposite him sat the imposing black-armored figure of Patrick Fotens. They ran for all five lances. The first went to Patrick followed by the next two for the Prince. Patrick took the fourth on points and the fifth he brought Vaan down.When the Prince regained his feet, not only did he salute Patrick; he shook hands with him. Vaan rode out waving to the stands amid cheers.
Doril Hunley rode against Jeffries Talfar for four lances. The First Regiment Solo claimed the first lance but the remaining three went to Talfar. One by points and two unhorsed him. Jeffries kept to the seriousness of the level they were at and refrained from his usual trash-talk. He did however completely ignore the Solo unless running the lanes. He also had utter disregard for the crowd in the stands
Sir Belvin then called the three out.
Loudly the instructor announced, "the three of you will draw lot. Two will compete first with a second chance for one against the third. The two victors will go to Finals after sunset!"
Fiona being the student president insisted the two boys draw first. Patrick drew and held up a stick with a red end. Jeffries reached forward and pulled one as well. Fiona was given the stick with a blue end.
"The match up will be; Commander Patrick Fotens against Jeffries Talfar. The victor will go on to the final against whomever wins in the contest against Countess Fiona Doucet," Sir Belvin announced. "Contest will begin in ten minutes!"
If you liked this chapter of The Nightmare Rider please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 20
The finale of The Nightmare Rider |
The crowded stands were cheering when Jefries Talfar entered the arena riding Pendragon; his white Cavalier model WarHorse. He still wore his regular armor; gold with red accent pieces and red plumes atop his helm.
"Lord Jeffries Talfar of Bergitan in the Northern lane," Sir Belvin announced then turned. "In the Southern lane; Commander Patrick Fotens of the Eighty-Sixth Freelancers!"
The cheering turned to a roar as Patrick halted Daemon inside the arena. The Commander's insignia gleamed against the dull black finish of his armor with green accents. The main body being black; parts such as the Pauldrons, Couters and Poleyns were green. The Pauldrons of Solos would feature their Regiment affiliation. In Patrick's case a black Eighty-Six contrasting the green background. The Commander's insignia was affixed high on the left side of his chest along with his name and platoon.
Patrick closed his visor then took the lance and moved Daemon into starting position. Jeffries snapped his own visor down and grabbed his lance. Pendragon side-stepped to the starting position and Talfar shifted to settle into his saddle. Patrick merely lifted his lance to signal his readiness as the official took his place at the mid-point. Jeffries signaled he too, was ready.
The official looked to both sides again after holding the flag out then yelled as loud as he could, lifted the flag and ran clear. "GO!"
Pendragon hopped forward then bolted forward to race for the other end. Daemon lunged into stride towards the end. Talfar sat leaning slightly forward in the saddle; shield angled outward with his lance forward of line and seemed to be aiming for the center of Patrick's shield. Patrick sat straight in his own saddle, shield flat with his lance slightly behind his line, also aiming center shield.
Jeffries had seen Patrick earlier and knew one of his tactics was shorten stride just before clash so that his horse would be at full extension of launch so he increased the last bit of speed from Pendragon when he drew closer to counter it. At the last second he angled his lance to the left and up; believing Patrick would angle his shield down and out at the clash.
The crowd cheered loudly as they watched the two riders streaking towards each other. Suddenly there was almost a collective gasp as they crossed. Jeffries Talfar wanted to bellow with rage to see his strategy thwarted in the blink of an eye. Patrick had thrust his shield forward and angled back to meet the lance. Doing so, in effect, caught it. Patrick then pulled back and twisted in his saddle. This action pulled the lance harmlessly high and back in toward the lanes, yet spun his own lance directly into Talfar's shield. Jeffries felt the connection to his shield. It was a hammer-blow! Patrick had compensated as well. Instead of hitting center, he hit low to the right.
Time felt like it stood still for Jeffries Talfar then he felt the impact shock and began to fly backwards amid a flurry of shattered lance bits. The noise all sounded faraway as he slammed into the sandy floor of the arena. He didn't stop when he hit the ground. Jeffries had so much momentum that he had been turning in mid-air and when he hit the ground he ended up rolling one and a half times. The stands roared in excitement.
Up in the stands Count Doucet shook his head, "I hate to say this to you; but that Solo Commander is a brilliant tactician."
"Yes. And my son is an incredible fool," Duke Talfar remarked. "He already crossed paths with him before and suffered from it. I understand the Commander was reluctant to hand over punishment to the Academy."
"I see. So he is making an example of him," Count Doucet said with understanding.
The Duke shook is head slightly, "no; I think he is just expressing his displeasure over the whole affair."
On the other side sitting beside her parents, Jessica Weyden winced when Talfar slammed into the ground and rolled. A hand gently rested on her shoulder.
"Aren't you glad you're NOT him," a familiar voice said into her ear.
"VERY much Highness," Jessica affirmed to Prince Vaan then turned to his parents. "Your Majesties."
Both nodded back to her kindly then went back to watching intently while clapping moderately. Jessica regarded them a moment longer then turned back.
'They're applause is polite but their eyes say they approve of Talfar being hit so hard and unhorsed. They must not like the Talfar family I guess,' Jessica thought to herself.
Down below; Jeffries Talfar struggled to get to his feet then retrieved his shield and lance. When he turned to mount Pendragon he saw Patrick Fotens had already returned to his starting point and taken up a new lance.
"Bastard! Sitting there mocking me," Talfar snarled to himself then climbed up onto the horse.
He rode back, tossed the lance aside and took a new one. He shifted to settle in then signaled he was ready. The official had already taken his stance, noted Patrick's readiness and held the flag out.
"GO," the official yelled then raised the flag and ran clear.
Patrick had Daemon leaning back, as if coiled, and sprang forward when the flag raised. The Warhorse launched itself forward into full stride and barreled down the lane. He sat slightly leaning forward, shield angled down with his lance even with his line. It appeared to be aiming high center to Talfar's shield.
Talfar spurred Pendragon to bolt into a run. With the second stride he was re-settled and leaning slightly forward, shield flat with his lance even with his line. He was aiming center left. He tried to check his opponent's speed and adjust Pendragon's stride. The roar coming from the stands echoed inside his helmet.
Daemon's stride was adjusted for the fourth time as they closed on each other and Patrick did the unexpected. He leaned back and twisted slightly away. His shield now angled up and outward. He also pulled his lance back from his line, causing its angle to change. The crowd watched in shock as Talfar's lance glanced up and away while Patrick's lance connected low and left as it broke. Essentially Jeffries Talfar was lifted up from his saddle and carried for a moment before dropping. Natural instinct took over and he flailed wildly as he fell to land in a heap.
Patrick rode back past him as he managed to catch his breath. The urge to punch something was difficult to resist. Slowly he stood up then picked up his shield and lance. Many called out encouragement as Jeffries climbed onto Pendragon. The WarHorse trotted back to the starting point. Jeffries tossed the lance away and signaled for water. Quickly he drank then snapped his visor back down and took the new lance. Anger festered within the young Noble.
"DAMN him! I am NOT going to lose to a damn Solo," Jeffries Talfar swore within his helmet.
At the other end of the lane Patrick waited at the starting position with a new lance. Few had noticed that he had shifted to settle into his saddle after taking position. He suspected Talfar was practically beside himself with fury now. He decided now was the time to give him a glimmer of hope. When Talfar signaled he was ready the official held out the flag.
The official raised the flag and ran clear, "GO!
Both horses bolted forward and tore down the lanes. Patrick sat just barely leaning back with his shield flat and his lance forward of his line aiming center of Talfar's shield. In such a way was sure to make Talfar believe he would do something at the last second. Daemon's stride was adjusted to be off when they crossed.
Talfar leaned forward in his saddle, angled his shield down and outward with his lance held forward of his line. He checked the stride of Daemon and adjusted Pendragon's to counter it. They closed on each other and strides were adjusted again. Finally came the clash. Talfar made the first contact and for a moment, was confused. Patrick's lance hit and broke against the shield as he was pushed back. He almost laid back when the lance began to slide up the shield and over his shoulder. Talfar felt the strike to his shield, but it felt dampened compared to the previous two. The crowd cheered at Talfar's success.
The horses slowed then turned and trotted back to their sides. Talfar had flipped up his visor before riding back and smirked as he passed. Patrick showed no reaction even though his visor remained down. Back at the start point Patrick casually exchanged the broken lance for a new one then took position and signaled. Jeffries tossed the lance and drank from the water bottle again then snapped down his visor. He took a new lance and trotted Pendragon to the start.
"It was points but I showed him. He must be weakening," Jeffries smiled inside the helmet and signaled he was ready.
The official had already took his place and held his flag out then looked to Talfar. Jeffries Talfar signaled he was ready.
"GO," the official yelled as he raised his flag and ran clear.
Jeffries spurred Pendragon to jump forward and take stride then settled to lean forward. He angled his shield outward and held the lance even with his line. The plan was to aim center left. Pendragon's stride was adjusted and he barreled toward the opposite end of the lane.
Patrick had Daemon lunge forward and take stride. He sat straight in the saddle with his shield flat. His lance was slightly behind his line and aimed high center. Daemon's stride was adjusted. Quickly they closed on each other.
Up in the stands Fiona watched the two riders streaking towards each other.
"Is Talfar going to unhorse him this time," Aruna Moning asked her.
The Countess shook her head, "no. Fotens toyed with him on the last lance. Jeffries is about to be decimated."
Jeffries aimed his lance as he smiled. A smile that dropped to a look of utter horror.
"NO," Jeffries tried to shout.
Daemon's stride had changed as the lances began to cross. The back hooves were planted then pushed off. Patrick threw himself forward in the saddle and thrust his lance. The bold move also changed the angles of shield and lance. His shield now angle up and outward. The lance now aimed low and left of center.
The move took Talfar completely by surprise. He had thought Patrick was weakening from constant performance at high level. The impact hit harder than ever before. Patrick's lance shattered as the young Noble was practically catapulted, his own lance glancing harmlessly off Patrick's shield to remain intact.
The stands went to dead silence and many had sprung to their feet in shock. Awestruck they watched as Talfar rose high and flew back to slam into the arena floor and roll over several times. More spectators began to stand up when he lay unmoving. Quickly the officials rushed out. Carefully they turned him over then lifted his visor. A Trainer checked him over then broke an ampoule and began to wave it under Talfar's nose. A moment later Jeffries winced the grimaced.
"What happened," Talfar asked.
The Trainer ignored the question, "can you move everything?"
Slowly he flexed his fingers, hands, wrists, elbows then shoulders. That was followed by lower extremeties.
"I can move. Did I even hit him," Talfar asked as they helped him up then saw the Solo Commander sitting stride his horse looking down on him.
Slowly Patrick raised his visor. The expression he wore was of bland acknowledgement. Comprehension hit Talfar like a brick thrown through a window. Fotens had feined weakness and he became over-confident. Without word the Solo Commander turned his horse and rode away.
Sir Belvins announced, "VICTOR; COMMANDER PATRICK FOTENS!"
Duke Talfar went down to the Nobles' ready area. Jeffries was having his armor removed.
"That was quite the hit," the Duke commented.
Jeffries looked up, "I'll be ready to ride in a few minutes."
The Duke nodded and left. Jeffries looked over to the other side. Fiona Doucet was arriving and began changing into her armor. One of his squires applied an ice compress to his left arm and another across his shoulders. The cold began to ease the soreness. However nothing would ease the pang of humiliation of being so gullible to fall for the Solo's tactic. He would have to bring Fiona down quickly. A drawn-out contest would decrease his chances for success. In thirty minutes he would be facing her. He saw her father, the Count, approach her and the two talked quietly.
Patrick was in the Solos' ready area and took off the upper components of his armor. He used a cool wet towel to wipe down his chest and back then dunked his head in a bucket of water. His squires were using cloths to wipe the inside of his armor. He toweled off then slipped on a dry under shirt and waited for the match to start. He would watch Doucet and Talfar since he would be facing the winner.
"Countess Fiona Doucet of Sparzo in the Northern Lane," Sir Belvin announced then had to wait for the cheers to die down enough to announce. "Lord Jeffries Talfar of Bergitan in the Southern lane!"
The crowd's cheering was less for his announcement. It was easy to discern the crowd favorite. Fiona Doucet turned and waved. Her silver tone armor had a lavender hue to it and lavender accents. Her helmet held lavender and white plumes. Her armor also made her feminine charms very obvious. Her WarHorse was a white Paladin model named Charlemagne gleamed brightly as did her armor.
Up in the stands Count Doucet turned to Duke Talfar, "something that has been on my mind since yesterday; What happened to the Paladin model WarHorse I gave Jeffries? He looks to be riding the same Cavalier model as last year."
"What? You mean you didn't have it taken in for replacement," Duke Talfar asked.
The look of confusion appeared to be genuine to the Count. Had Jeffries lied to his own father?
Crossly the Count replied, "I did NOT."
Duke Talfar could see he was truly angry, "I'll find out after the match."
Just outside one of the ramps to the stands, Patrick Fotens stood looking into the arena below. Talfar would have nothing new for him, but Doucet would still have several tricks in her bag. Even if this contest went to all five lances. He watched her intently.
Both had signaled readiness when the official took his place then held out the flag.
He raised the flag and ran clear yelling, "GO!"
Charlemagne reared then jumped into a run carrying Fiona down the lane. She sat straight in her saddle but with a slightly inward twist. Her lance was held forward of her line and appeared to be aimed center of Talfar's shield. Inside her helmet, Fiona grinned malevolently.
Jeffries had Pendragon lunge forward into long strides. He leaned forward with his shield angled down. The lance was held even with his line and aimed high center. He believed she would lean forward at the last second to brace the impact. Quickly they closed on each other.
The lances crossed each other and Talfar's mind went blank to see Fiona pull her lance back then ram forward high center of his shield. The tactic distracted him to forget about correcting his aim. Jeffries lance glanced off Fiona's shield to swing back toward the lane then be pushed back by her lance so hard, he flipped over backwards and landed on his back in the sand.
The crowd called out in surprise, with some even cat-calling. Many simply cheered for Fiona when she rode back by making Charlemagne prance while she smiled and held up the broken lance to the crowd. She put on her little show all the way back to her end and exchanged lances then snapped her visor.
Jeffries was swearing the whole time as he got to his feet, collected his equipment and went back to his end of the lanes. The lance was intact which infuriated him all the more. He tried to calm himself while the official checked both sides for signals. Finally the flag was held out.
"GO," the official yelled as he raised the flag and ran clear.
Jeffries spurred Pendragon to bolt into a run and tore down the lane toward Fiona. Again he leaned forward in the saddle, but angled his shield back and inward. The lance was held even with his line as he double-checked the stride of Fiona's horse.
"You are going know YOUR place Bitch," Jeffries swore within his helmet.
Fiona had made Charlemagne hop twice then break into a run heading for Talfar. She sat forward in the saddle with her shield angled down. The lance was held even with her line and again looked to be aimed center of his shield. Again the visor hid her grin from the spectators.
As the lances crossed Fiona's timing was once again flawless. She leaned back instead and dropped the angle of her lance as she twisted in, slightly away from the lanes. Talfar's lance slid across her shield up and away safely and an instant later her lance jammed into the lower part of his shield to yank him out of the saddle and drop him straight to the ground.
Fiona just laughed as he screamed out profanity at her from the pain. With her visor up; she blew kisses to the crowd as Charlemagne pranced back to her end of the lanes.
Duke Talfar cleared his throat, "Lorn. I get the very distinct impression that Fiona may actually hate him."
"I would very much like to NOT make a speculation of my own if you don't mind Harless," Count Doucet replied.
The Duke shook his head, "I can tell where this contest is going. I believe the real contest will be between Fiona and that young Commander. Fotens I believe is his name."
Over by the ramp a voice asked softly, "well Commander. Any thoughts?"
"I would say it's fairly obvious Arento. Doucet is enjoying herself," Patrick commented blandly.
Prince Vaan chuckled, "I concur. She is indeed having a GRAND time. I have no doubt the final contest will be the two of you. Please don't think ill of me for cheering her."
"She's your girlfriend Arento. I'd be surprised if you didn't," Patrick remarked in a low voice.
Vaan regarded him warily, "really?"
Patrick continued to watch the arena floor as Fiona took position and spoke softly, "you two hid it well. I just happened to see you by accident. I imagine her father would be furious if he knew."
"Find me later and I'll ensure your discretion is properly compensated," Vaan remarked then wandered away.
Fiona had signaled her readiness as did Jeffries, only angrily. The official held out his flag as the crowd lowered their cheering some. She knew for certain Jeffries was raging, she was also using it against him.
The official raised his flag and ran clear as he yelled, "GO!"
Fiona had been making Charlemagne prance in place sideways for a moment until the flag went up then made him rear up then launch into a run. She rode leaning back in her saddle with her shield angled back and up. Fiona's lance was held back from her line and aimed for low center. Charlemagne's stride was adjusted shorter.
Pendragon hopped once then broke into a run. Jeffries adjust the stride longer as he sat straight in the saddle with his shield angled flat. His lance was held forward of his line and he was aiming for center low of her shield. He checked and adjust the stride again.
The crowd went completely silent as the two riders closed on each other until the clash was heard. Fiona's split-second timing was once again perfect. She suddenly threw herself forward in the saddle and thrust the lance out to hit high center of Talfar's shield and shatter. Her shield deflected his lance once again to glance off harmlessly intact.
Again Jeffries Talfar felt horror as he was stripped from his saddle and launched backward to land in a heap. The crowd roared in approval of Fiona's skill as she slowed Charlemagne to a trot then turned him to prance back while waving to the crowd. Talfar regained his feet as his squires collected the shield and lance.
"VICTOR; COUNTESS FIONA DOUCET. THE FINAL CONTEST WILL BE IN THIRTY MINUTES. COUNTESS DOUCET AND COMMANDER FOTENS," Sir Belvin announced.
Jeffries Talfar stormed out of the arena. Outside the tunnel he yanked off his helmet, threw it to the ground then kicked it away.
Iia stood in a shadow next to Daalumos, "Lust. This is very fascinating! The pretty mortal girl was enjoying tormenting the boy. I felt hatred coming from her."
"As did I. You should not be surprised. Many find animosity against a competitor; it justifies defeating them. The mortals claim this is peaceful but I see otherwise. You have as well. The mortal yesterday that our Mistress faced first. That was nothing but pure intent to kill," Daalumos explained.
The succubus shook her head, "there is no prize to win. Why kill?"
Daalumos chuckled, "there is no official prize to win. Many have private deals; mainly the futures of their children. Alliance through marriage. Marriage is the mortals' way of exclusive coupling. A pact to spend their remaining time together. Many do so out of love. Usually the lower classes. It is very common for these higher class mortals to arrange the mates of their children. Not so different from our world. The boy was paid to eliminate a formidable threat."
"He did that to benefit someone else? Why," Iia asked.
Daalumos quivered with mirth, "his reward was substantial, but it pales in comparison to that of the one who hired him expected to get. Pay attention. The one that hired was named Laanower. Laanower has alliegence to Talfar, the one who was just defeated. I discovered that this Talfar boy is in arrangement to the girl that just defeated him. The details I do not know, but can guess. At the least, he must defeat her to win the arrangement. At most; she must win all contests against her to keep her freedom."
Iia considered that, "so this Laanower mortal benefits an alliance with this Talfar. Talfar benefits an arrangement with the girl. Laanower tried to ensure his ally's victory because it would benefit him. Is this correct?"
"It is very possible. The question remains; did this Talfar participate in some way or was Laanower really acting on his own," the BloodLust mused.
Iia pondered that, "that is a good question."
Both went silent suddenly as they felt a presence.
"Do you feel," Iia asked.
Daalumos growled, "yes. A High Demon is here. I see him now. It is Barbatos!"
The succubus shivered, "Duke Barbatos? Here? Why?"
"Because he was SENT," Daalumos replied. "We will stay as we are. It is time for our Mistress to ride again."
Sir Belvin announced, "The final contest. In the Southern lane; Commander Patrick Fotens of the Eighty-Sixth Freelancers! In the Northern lane; Countess Fiona Doucet of Sparzo!"
The crowd cheered loudly for the two. To everyone's surprise Fiona began walking her horse down the lane. She had not taken a lance. Patrick handed off his lance and rode forward to meet her. They stopped at the mid-point.
"Commander Fotens I've been looking forward to this for quite some time," Fiona said after saluting.
Patrick returned the salute, "I'm sure you have Doucet. I'm also fairly certain you want to put on show."
Fiona smiled broadly, "absolutely! I'm going to bring everything I have to this contest, Patrick."
"You'll need it Doucet. Daemon; battle," Patrick said then saluted and turned his horse around to return to the starting position.
Fiona saluted with a smile and rode back to her end. She waved to the crowd again then closed her visor and took up the lance and moved to the starting position and signaled. Patrick closed his own visor and took the lance from Bess. Daemon side-stepped over to the starting position and signaled his readiness. The official had taken his place and held out the flag as the crowd went completely silent.
The official checked both riders then raised his flag to run clear as he yelled, "GO!"
Daemon lunged forward and took stride. Patrick rode straight in his saddle with the shield flat. He held his lance even with his line and aimed center of her shield. Stride was adjusted as the WarHorse traveled down the lane toward the opposite end.
Fiona spurred Charlemagne to jump and run. She adjusted his stride shorter and settled to ride leaning forward in her saddle with her shield angled in and upward. Her lance just forward of her line and she was aiming low and left of his shield. The crowd was mixed in their cheering now. Almost half and half for the two riders. As the lances crossed the real tactics were used.
Fiona twisted slightly inward to enhance her shield's angle. this also gave her something to brace her lance against as her target changed to be dead center. Patrick leaned forward to brace against her strike and angled his shield down then thrust the lance forward.
The clash was louder than ever as both lances shattered on impact. Fiona managed to deflect the bulk of the strike but still felt herself turned even more in the saddle. Her lance slammed into Patrick's shield and almost exploded but enough force remained to push him back, almost out of the saddle. The crowd roared as the two riders passed each other.
Patrick slowed Daemon to a trot then a wide turn and headed back for his end. Fiona brought Charlemagne to a stop and wheeled him about to return to her end. They saluted each other in passing. Patrick tosed the damaged lance aside and took the new one from Bess and moved over to the start position.
Fiona exchanged lances with a smile then pranced Charlemagne over to the start point, closed her visor and signaled to the official. He looked down to Patrick and accepted the signal then held out the flag. Again the crowd grew silent as they waited.
"GO," the official yelled as he raised the flag and ran clear.
Charlemagne reared up and hopped forward then began to run. Fiona leaned forward and angled her shield down. Her lance was slightly back from her line. Fiona was aiming center high of his shield. She had to adjust stride twice on the way down the lane.
Patrick spurred Daemon to bolt. He sat leaning back in the saddle but had his shield angled down. The lance was held behind his line and aimed high and left. Fiona made Charlemagne launch into his run and settled herself to ride straight in her saddle with a slight inward twist. Her shield was angled down and in with lance held even with her line. She was aiming center low.
The crowd was cheering them on as the lances crossed. Patrick shifted to turn outward as her lance struck but jammed his own low and to the left on her shield before breaking. Fiona had threw herself forward and maintained her angle as she thrust the lance forward. Patrick's tactic caught her by surprise and the Countess was immediately flung off her horse as her lance snapped before swinging back toward the lanes.
A roar erupted from the stands. Quickly Fiona got to her feet, raised her visor and waved to the crowd then saluted Patrick as he rode back past; returning the salute. She grabbed her shield and lance then mounted her horse and rode back.
"Wow! That was something," Fiona exclaimed handing off the lance then took a drink of water.
The squire nodded, "yes my Lady. He's very skilled. Its impossible to predict his tactics until the last second. Much like yourself."
"That's why I've been looking forward to facing him. He's brilliant," Fiona replied then closed her visor and took a new lance.
The crowd called out support for Fiona as she pranced her horse over to the starting point. She raised her lance to show them her confidence. Patrick raised his own lance toward her which she did the same, indicating they both would continue. The official had taken his place and noted both of them showing readiness. He held the flag out as the crowd quieted some.
"GO," the official yelled then raised the flag and ran clear.
Charlemagne hopped and broke into a run. Fiona settled in to ride straight in her saddle with her shield flat and lance even with her line. She was aiming once again for center of his shield and adjusted Charlemagne's stride. Patrick had Daemon bolt from the start and settle into long strides. He rode leaning slightly back with his shield angled down and lance held forward of his line. Stride was adjust just as they closed.
Fiona twisted in and brace her lance to aim high left then dropped to center left as Charlemagne launched himself forward. Patrick wasn't able to counter the second move in time as he had threw himself forward in the saddle and aimed high center on her shield. His lance broke then slid away while her lance burst at the tip and bounced back at the shield to push him almost flat to the horse. The move dragged him out of the saddle, but luckily his feet stayed in the stirrups, keeping him on Daemon.
The crowd roared in excitement as Fiona had once again, taken the lead in the contest. She was leading in points with Patrick trailing not far behind. Before the match started they were even in points. Now Fiona was ahead. The horses were turned about and the riders saluted each other in passing. Many in the stands now stood as they called out, clapping and stomping their feet. Even the Headmaster was joining in the ruckus with a smile.
Lances were exchanged. Patrick had stopped to drink water before resuming and walked Daemon to the starting point. Fiona waved and blew kisses to the crowd with a broad smile. It was evident she was having a grand time. She closed her visor and took the new lance then pranced her horse over to the starting point. One lance remained after this run. The official took his place and noted both riders' ready signal. He held the flag out as the crowd dropped a level of volume.
The flag went up and the official ran clear yelling out, "GO!"
It was evident the excitement had reached the official too. Charlemagne reared up then lunged into his run. Fiona settled in to lean forward. She angled her shield outward and up with her lance forward of her line. Fiona was aiming low center of Patrick's shield. Patrick had Daemon bounce twice to get into his run then tear down the lane with good strides. He rode straight in his saddle with his shield angled in and down. The lance was held behind his line and aiming center high.
The stomping and clapping was at an almost fevered pitch as the two riders closed on each other. As the lances crossed Patrick pushed his shield forward when Fiona pulled back. When her lance streaked forward he turned to match it, shoving the lance to the side as he rammed his lance forward high right before shattering. Many yelled in shock as the Countess struggled to stay in her saddle from the spin Patrick had caused her. Fiona's lance had glanced harmlessly off his shield.
Barely Fiona regained her position, almost at the cost of discarding her lance which would have awarded Patrick more points. With her visor up, she saluted him in passing with a smile. For her, this was the greatest contest she had ever ridden! At her end the squire handed her a water bottle and she drank deeply.
"Last lance my Lady," the squire stated.
Fiona immediately turned Charlemagne around and trotted to the middle. Puzzled, Patrick rode out to meet her.
Proudly Fiona announced loudly, "THIS IS THE BEST CONTEST I'VE EVER RIDDEN! COMMANDER FOTENS, YOU'VE SET THE GREATEST CHALLENGE I'VE EVER HAD!"
"If that be the case Doucet, bring forth all you can muster and see it to the very end," Patrick said firmly.
The Headmaster took the announcer's platform as Sir Belvin himself strode out carrying the flag.
"One thing is certain. The Academy hasn't seen a contest this close in MANY years. TAKE YOUR STARTING POSITIONS FOR THE FINAL LANCE," the Headmaster announced.
Both saluted each other and the crowd then rode back to their sides. Visors down and lances ready, they signaled to Sir Belvin. He nodded to them and held the flag out and the crowd went silent and still.
Suddenly the flag went up and Sir Belvin ran clear, "GO!"
Daemon lunged forward as did Charlemagne. Patrick leaned forward in his saddle, shield angled back and inward. His lance even with his line and aiming center of her shield. Fiona sat straight in her saddle with her shield flat. She held her lance back from her line and she too, aimed center of his shield. They both adjusted strides as they closed on each other. As the lances crossed Both thrust their lances forward. Fiona's shift changed her position before Patrick could compensate. His lance hit high on her shield and snapped. Her lance had dipped just enough to jam in low center of his shield and shattered. Patrick was pitched off backwards as the crowd roared.
Fiona squealed in excitement as she brought Charlemagne to a trot and turned in a wide arc. She yanked off her helmet to reveal her face lit with elation. Patrick was on his feet with no trouble and removed his own helmet. He saluted Fiona as she rode by triumphantly. She dismounted and saluted him.
"Patrick Fotens. Honored that I am to have ridden against you today; I'm also sad that I will not be doing so again next year. One day I hope there is some peaceful competition we can meet again at," Fiona stated.
Patrick nodded, "who knows what the future holds Doucet. If there is and I am there; I'll look forward to it."
"This year's victor of Tournament; FIONA DOUCET, COUNTESS OF SPARZO," the Headmaster announced and the crowd roared again.
Phoebe sat on her throne resting as Iia sat on the riser and Daalumos stood to the side. All three watched the doorway. Finally a bearded old man walked through and stopped.
"You are the new Goddess of Nightmares. Phoebe," the old man guessed.
Phoebe looked down at him, "I am. What brings you before me Barbatos, Duke of Demons?"
Duke Barbatos stated, "I was summoned to make enquiry. What is your stance upon the disposition of Phoetor? Will you claim his remaining property in holding or for your own? Are you preparing for war in the Underworld?"
Phoebe stared at the High Demon, "let him rot in the abyss. I care not for any of that. I have no interest in the goings-on in Underworld. You may go."
In a rush of flames Duke Barbatos left them, "Enjoy your rule Phoebe; Goddess of Nightmares."
Iia looked up, "what do we do now Mistress?"
Phoebe smiled finally, "whatever I want Iia. Now there is no disputing my reign."
Daalumos shrieked in delight as Iia giggled seductively. They had won without an argument or fight.
Fiona's victory nullified the arrangement to marry Jeffries Talfar. At the celebration that night, Vaan Arento proposed and Fiona accepted gleefully. Jeffries Talfar had to admit to his father and Count Doucet that he had sold the gifted Warhorse from Count Doucet to finance Eaton Laanower's ploy. After graduation he was quietly sent to Hawk's Rock fortress. Jessica Weyden finally became friendly with a third year Marquis during her Fourth year. They married after his graduation. Patrick Fotens faded into obscurity after promoting a captain to Commander. Sania Malzeek graduated with high honors and Tournament champion then led a force to decimate the Noble who's soldiers had brutalized and murdered her birth mother. Phoebe became widely known as the Goddess of Nightmares and many temples were built to her, many prayed and her power grew. Eventually she stormed Marduk Kurios' fortress then sealed him within the Abyss with Phoetor and never returned to the Underworld.
Well readers, so ends the tale of the Nightmare Rider. Thank you very much for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it. I sat in a quandry as to what I will do with this story when i finished it, it was the previous chapter that I finally decided. I will be leaving it up for free reading; however, The Nightmare Rider will not be open for fan-fiction. I don't see a sequel to this story either. I have a couple of things to take care of and then I will start work on my next project, which I hope you will enjoy as well. thanks once again to all the readers for your support, comments and kudos. Its been quite the Ride!
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales?
At what price; love? At what price; safety? At what price; sanity? At what price, justice? At what price; Revenge?
*Warning- Does contain hyper-violence*
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? At what price; safety? At what price; sanity? At what price, justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Chapter 1
client #815
"Everybody knows."
Tires hummed as they rolled over the road. Legs were pumping, to churn the crank, pulling the chain which turned the sprocket and spun the wheel. Slight braking then coast into a turn to come out pedaling strong to regain speed. The occasional car sounded its horn in passing as the road racing bicycle flew past. Early morning, before rush hour, was the perfect time to ride. People on sidewalks waved to the colorfully garbed rider passing them by. Finally a turn and the bike peeled off onto the Greenway. A path around the center of the city for pedestrians and cyclists to travel safely. It was almost as wide as a road's single traffic lane, but marked into three lanes. Pedestrians walked in either direction down the middle lane and bicycles rode the two outer lanes depending on their direction.
Daryl Tempton pushed himself to speed up more. Only recreation and sporting cyclists rode at this time window. In what seemed like no time at all, he had covered his distance and turned off again, onto regular roads. He was deep in the city toward the Northeast He lived on the Southern side on the edge of the city limit. By car, a thirty minute drive. By bus, an hour. By bike, almost forty-five minutes. That was Port Klasten. Once a medium-size port for mainly fishing boats, now a off-loading site for merchant vessels. Cargo came by ship, train, truck and even planes; switched to a different carrier and went back out.
Some time ago, the city went under a revitalization. Various ideas used by other cities were implemented. The biggest was going Green as much as possible. People were encouraged to use public transit or other methods that didn't require petroleum fuels. Biofuel and electric vehicles became prevalent as well as bicycles. Streets were upgraded and many decaying areas became gentrified. In other words, the city cleaned itself up. The outlying areas didn't change much, but the city itself did. Major corporate stores were discouraged to not locate, or if they were already there, to relocate. Independent business came back. The old, classic, Mom and Pop stores returned. Neighborhood shopping.
The warm fuzzy feeling of nostalgia didn't last long. As the big corporates moved out, other organizations moved in. Syndicates. Organized crime went up. It was quiet and almost imperceptible. Before anyone could understand what had happened. Various mobs and gangs now had the city in a stranglehold. Public officials, police and others of influence sold out the dream. A city destined to become a glittering jewel along the Pacific now teemed with crime.
Daryl slowed and stopped in front of a small building then dismounted the bike. Slowly he walked toward the door, stretching his legs as he did. Port Klasten didn't look it. It was beautiful and clean. That was only on the surface. The face. Underneath, it was rotten and fetid as a cesspool. All manner of criminals had taken over, but it was organized. It wasn't an unshaven teen wearing saggy-pants and gold chains with a ball-cap turned sideways that was a threat, it was a well-groomed young man wearing a suit that was. Prostitutes didn't stand on corners in provocative clothes to ply their trade to passers-by. They looked like any club-goer, office-worker or simply person going out and about.
Daryl changed into jeans and t-shirt with a bicycle logo on it and covered some of his long blonde hair up under a backwards ball-cap, an elastic band to hold the rest in a ponytail finished his look. After opening the roll-up door that covered most of the front, including window, he turned around the sign proclaiming Open. Port Klasten had become a place to run away from a person's past. The perfect place; to be unknown. In Daryl's case, a bicycle shop guy. He sold bikes, he built bikes, he repaired bikes. Off-road, children's, cruisers, racers. If it was a bike, he was a guy to go to. Business was steady for the past three years. So far the big crime had not made serious effort into this small area. The main reason for that being, a large public park dominated it. Other areas of the city were more lucrative.
"Good morning!" A feminine voice called from the open door.
Daryl looked up from the counter. "Hi Gina."
A nicely dressed young woman came inside. "You called, it's ready?"
"Sure did." Daryl nodded and went to the back room and came back walking a women's cruiser bike. "I straightened and repainted the frame and replaced the wheels."
Gina said angrily. "I can't believe they did all that trying to steal it! It's just a damned bicycle!"
"Be glad it wasn't a carbon-fiber frame. They'd have snapped it. Lucky for you, metal can be straightened. Well, except those wheels. Those were totally gone." Daryl informed her.
Gina looked at the invoice and slid her card through the reader then signed. "I'm too scared to drive, Daryl. It's not safe anymore. I don't mind riding everywhere now, sometimes it's fun."
"Yeah. I don't mind getting up a little early to come in. I can really get out there and rip. Busy day ahead?" Daryl asked.
"That would be nice." Gina smiled then turned serious and spoke lower. "I heard there's a guy going around now. Telling people to pay."
"You mean a protection guy?" Daryl asked.
Gina nodded.
Daryl shrugged. "If I see him, I see him. Won't be good for him, if I do. I'm not a nice guy."
"Daryl, you're the sweetest I know." Gina smiled.
Daryl smirked. "You don't get out much then."
Gina giggled as she walked her bike out and waved. "You won't ask me."
Daryl's expression changed and a feminine voice replied. "You don't know me. Otherwise, you'd run screaming."
For the rest of the morning, Daryl worked on bikes needing repair then closed up to go a few doors down to have lunch at a little restaurant. It was family run and there was a backroom for certain neighborhood customers to eat quietly in. That was where Daryl sat. After lunch he went back to work. A bike was brought in for servicing, which only took a few minutes. Another was dropped off for repair. Mid-afternoon saw a young man, looking no older than 19 walk in. Daryl noted he wore a sport jacket, polo shirt and chinos.
"City or Off-road?" Daryl asked.
The guy shook his head. "I don't ride."
Daryl came around the counter. "What's up?"
"Insurance." He replied.
Daryl regarded him intently now. Built, athletic, around two-hundred pounds and just over six feet in height. His hands looked heavy. Possibly a boxer or other hand-to-hand type.
"So you're the guy." Daryl surmised then went on. "Heard a couple of people say there was a guy coming around. Protection racket. That you?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You pay, no problems. Don't pay."
Daryl wanted to smirk at the hanging statement and its implication. If he didn't pay there would be problems, from him and whomever he was working for.
"I won't pay. Try to make me and you won't like it." Daryl countered then added. "And if they push it, neither will they. It would be; detrimental to their health and outlook on life."
Aaron was confused. This guy was refusing. In fact, he sounded like he was openly challenging them to come after him. Daring them.
Daryl gave him a bored look. "This is the part where you run out saying you'll be back and there'll be trouble."
Aaron shook his head. "Naw. I just bust you up."
"Yeah?" Daryl perked up and even looked excited. "ALRIGHT!"
Aaron just barely brought up his fists and took stance when the bicycle guy was on him. Six punches connected; a gut-shot followed by one to the cheek then another to the solar plexus and four to the face. Suddenly he felt his collar gripped and was yanked off his feet, dragged outside, down to the sidewalk and literally tossed to it.
"Next time, you better bring money. I don't work for free." Daryl stated and used his foot to shove the guy trying to stand up face-first to the pavement from behind.
Aaron finally gained his feet and stumbled down the sidewalk as people looked on. Some with satisfaction, as he had already extorted money from them. His boss wasn't going to like this. He didn't understand it himself. He'd been a state-champ boxer twice and yet, the bicycle shop guy just hammered him in front of everybody. He didn't even get one punch in at all. The guy was all over him before he could even blink. He hit hard too. And fast. And very accurate. The guy beat him like it was his day-job.
Half an hour later he stood in front of Lowell Fontana.
"You look like shit, what happened?" The crew leader asked.
Aaron shook his head. "I dunno Mister Fontana. I went to that bike shop. Guy knew right away, why I was there. He said he wasn't gonna pay."
"You explain that he'd start having trouble if he didn't?" Fontana asked.
"That's just it, looked like it kinda got him excited." Aaron reported.
Fontana laughed. "You scared him."
Aaron shook his head. "Not that kinda excited. More like he gets to have fun kind. Then he handed me my ass. He was all over me before I could do anything. He threw-down like it was a job."
One of the other men asked. "You said this guy does bikes?"
"Yeah. Not motorcycles. Bike-bikes. He works on 'em and stuff." Aaron explained.
The enforcer nodded. "Still a type of a mechanic. He pulls wrenches and all that, daily. He probably rides them too, so he'd be in shape."
"Like you'd know." One of the others joked.
He shrugged. "My cousin's kid does the bike thing. Races and stuff. He works out and all that. Those guys get pretty serious about it. You might think they look easy, but they aren't. They can get pretty strong having to ride up hills and stuff. Some of 'em even get up as fast as cars in the city. Mechanics always give problems because they work and it shows. Some can actually scrap too. I don't mean guys at dealerships. I mean guys that work in garages. I never heard of any school for working on bikes, so that means he come up all on his own."
Fontana mulled that over. "So you're saying he'll be stubborn."
"This place is big on people riding bikes. Shops should be all over. They aren't. This guy's been around a while. Not forever, but a while. They say he's the go-to guy." Aaron commented.
The first enforcer nodded. "More my point. If he's that good, to stay in business, then yeah. He's stubborn, but knows his shit. He won't cave like others, he'll fight."
"Well, the more immediate concern is he did fight. He made you look weak Aaron. Can't have that. Others will think they can do the same and that hurts collections. Go back tomorrow and throw down. Mark him up more than he did. Do that, and today won't count against you." Fontana ordered then waved him out.
Aaron went out. This was bad. It was first time he'd failed. That somebody had gotten over on him. He'd have to make it up. Otherwise he really would be in trouble. Almost all the money he was making was being sent to the foster parents keeping his little sister. she had no choice in the matter, being only 13. He was just barely 18 himself. Without a steady job that paid real money, he couldn't get custody of her. His only choice was work street-level and make up the ranks fast to an office position somewhere. In an office, he actually drew a check and even paid taxes. A paper-trail the social-workers could accept. He stopped for a burger and went back to his rented room.
Daryl had just finished opening for the day when the guy from the day before came in.
"Forget something?" Daryl smirked.
Aaron went on the offensive. He moved in with his fists up, bouncing closer, lightly. He threw a jab and had it slapped away, along with the follow-up. He planted himself and began trying to get inside for a good body-shot. It wasn't working. The bike-guy knew fighting too and was able to deflect the blows or angle his body to lessen their impact then edged back to begin blocking them. Aaron now knew he was fighting a martial artist. Not the kind that struts around a dojo or competition ring; the kind that fights in the streets, where there is only one rule. If you win, you can live. Aaron had some fuel though, he had a sister to take care of. It wasn't making a difference. When he showed his determination to win, the bike guy lost all sense of amusement and took on a look of hatred. That was when it all changed, and not for the better. Aaron felt the hits become harder, sharper. There was even a snap to them. The guy knew how to work on somebody and was good at it. Once again Aaron found himself being dragged to the sidewalk and dumped. An hour later he was dumped again, outside a hospital, in worse condition.
Daryl was ignoring the news while eating lunch the next day.
"Hey Daryl." a friendly voice said.
Daryl looked over and saw a middle-age woman in a skirt suit stting down at an adjacent table. "Hey Brenda. How's it going?"
"Busy." she replied then looked up to the television and gave a look of disgust. "Ugh!"
Daryl looked up and read the line. "Murder, huh? They got the guy already?"
Brenda looked angry. "It's frame-job for a body-dump. I got the guy as a client an hour ago. It's so obvious, it stinks to high Hell."
"Not the first, won't be the last." Daryl remarked then asked. "Cops in on it?"
Brenda sighed. "The usual, paid to look the other way. The techs have good evidence I can use though. Already secured that. I'll get him off clean."
"Don't get cocky." Daryl reminded as he sprinkled lemon-pepper onto the carrots. "So what's the biggie?"
Brenda finished telling the waitress her order. "The real victim was a trafficked girl. Poor kid, only 13 or so. My guy's in solitary for protection until I can get him bailed in a couple of hours."
Daryl shook his head. "13. That's just all kinds of wrong."
"Gets worse. Whoever had her was really twisted. Has to be important, the cops are trying really hard to close the case. Thing is, they act like this isn't the first time one like this has turned up, but there's been no reports before." Brenda commented.
Daryl sipped his water. "Probably isn't. First time people know though. Not too many reasons for that. Only one I can think of."
Brenda thought about. "Not so much what happened, but to whom?"
"Likely. Message to somebody." Daryl offered.
Brenda sighed. "Her brother is in the area. Word has it, he's on a shake-down crew. Practically a kid himself. Used to Box back in school. He was 16 when their parents died in a car accident. She went into the system, he got turned out. "
Daryl looked over. "Boxer on a shake-down crew?"
"Yeah. You know him?" Brenda asked.
Daryl asked. "Got a picture?"
Brenda nodded and pulled a file from her case and handed it to him.
Daryl read it. Typical street-kid. Suspected muggings, fighting, hustling. The picture nailed it though and he handed it back. "Yep."
"Don't tell me he's been working the neighborhood?" Brenda asked.
Daryl nodded. "Yep. Tried it on me. No idea who he got before."
"Damn Daryl. You didn't have to put him in the hospital over it." Brenda remarked then looked surprised when Daryl looked up confused.
Daryl was confused. "He walked off when I got done, both times. I didn't hurt him more than ice-packs and aspirin."
Brenda sighed. "Somebody did. I guess they didn't like him failing."
"The sister. She paid the real price for him." Daryl said sadly. "They did that to her, because he couldn't take me."
"My guy has 45K in savings. He offered it all to me to save him." Brenda said. "I'll take 32 of it and pass 30 to you. Will you take it, Dara?"
A feminine voice answered. "Yes. Stay away from the brother."
Brenda watched her walk out the back door.
It hadn't been long. Soon after criminals took over Port Klasten, a new breed of professionals began to surface. Revenge-brokers. For a price they would give a person vengeance, or justice. Sometimes poetically. Whatever they had done to someone, it was done to them. Several established names and reputations that quickly became whispered legends. Some were disgruntled cops or lawyers. Others were just average guys that had something happen to them and were fed up with the crime. Many didn't last long. It became the most dangerous occupation in the city. They soon found themselves being used as pawns by rival syndicates to take each other down. For the past two and a half years one stood above all others. Very secretive. No one could really confirm whether they were male or female. Some even said it was actually a group, working under one alias.
Aaron had lain in the bed all day, sobbing to himself after seeing the morning newscast. A nurse had put two and two together and called a cop. A detective came and interviewed him. He didn't say much. He didn't have to. The cop was just going through the motions and he could tell. He even knew they didn't have the real killer. Suddenly he didn't feel alone and tried to see. His swollen eyes limited what he could, so just about everything was blurry. Tears didn't help matters.
"Wh-who's there?" Aaron choked out.
A feminine voice answered. "Someone that can help you."
Soft, light footsteps came closer. "Your name is Aaron. Your sister was murdered. The man the police have, didn't do it. You know who did."
Aaron knew this wasn't a cop and simply nodded.
"She paid the price as your punishment. Who did you work for?" She asked.
Aaron sobbed. "Lowell Fontana. I couldn't shake-down some bike-shop guy and got my ass kicked. They beat me worse and killed my baby-sister!"
"Fontana belongs to me now." The woman said.
"What can you do?" Aaron asked.
The voice called back from a distance. "Get revenge."
"I can't pay." Aaron shook his head.
The voice replied. "I already have been."
The click of the door told Aaron that he was alone again. He wanted to warn her. Fontana couldn't be gotten to. He stayed under guard. Nobody could get close enough. They'd have to nuke the city to get him.
Dara sat in a dimly lit room, several screens faced her. An old Leonard Cohen song played softly as she worked. Information from various databases were coming in. All concerning one Lowell Fontana. The more she read, the more she wanted to do. He had been linked to various criminal factions all over the country, doing all he could to stay ahead of indictments. Four months ago he arrived in Port Klasten and took up with the Delain organization. He specialized in extortion and prostitution.
"So, you're a People-guy." Dara commented to herself.
Such a person had strengths and weaknesses. Weak, because they were always around people. Strong, those people were never strangers. Anytime he would meet someone new; it would be through recommendation, he would have his regular muscle with him and always in public that he could control. Nobody just walks up and says 'hi' to a guy like Lowell Fontana. Anybody that could, he would already know who they were. More than likely why as well. However, no one was completely safe. Everyone had a vulnerability. His could be found. His would be exploited. He would dance on the end of her strings.
A week of nights later, a ragged looking old man hunched as he walked towards the city for the third time. Sharp eyes, half hidden by bushy brows, watched a building as the bulk of lights went out on an automatic timer from under a layer of discarded papers and sheet of corrugated cardboard in an alley. A CO2 propelled pellet quietly shattered the lens of a surveillance camera then a security light. The newspapers and cardboard shifted and a head slid underneath, as if settling in for the night. Minutes later, a black clad figure wearing a backpack emerged from behind boxes and trash cans further down. They moved to the opposite side and crouched at the side-door. Within a minute, a soft click was heard. The door was pulled open and the figure slipped inside.
Daryl knew exactly where he wanted to go. The third floor, last door on the right. The stairs would have been faster and seemingly quieter, but it wasn't true. Cameras, motion sensors and other deterrents made the elevator the best option. He rode the elevator up and got out on the third floor. The only problem was a camera that looked down the length of the hallway. A laser pointer disabled that. It rested on a small stand made from a re-bent paperclip, using a mirror to aim it. Daryl quietly walked down the hall now that the camera was blind. Black thread tied to the laser spun off a bobbin as he went. He picked the lock and entered a reception area then continued on through an outer office, that looked more like a lounge, to the inner-office.
There were papers, as any office would have, but they were all used as a smoke-screen. Daryl wasn't surprised. Fontana would have all critical information on his person at all times. Usually encoded as well. Some carried laptops or tablets. Some had a PDA. The ones that still carried an old school little black book were the difficult ones. They used a cipher they had created themselves and only they knew the key. Those were the ones that gave cops and feds the most fits. Electronic encryption could be hacked. Paper and ink took time. A long time. Many times the symbols would have to be scanned in and run though a recognition program to establish true design. Characters per page and pages determined how long that would take. Only then could a program be used to try deciphering the code. In short, a minimum of months. At maximum, never. A scrap of paper under the desk made Daryl's chest tighten. It had hand-written code on it. Fontana was old-school. Things just became more difficult. More straight-forward, but difficult.
The more Daryl looked at the page, the more the symbols looked familiar. He started wracking his brain to understand why. Suddenly his phone vibrated and almost made him reveal his presence by shouting. Angrily he dug it out and looked at it.
Brenda: I have a problem. Call me now.
Dara: You almost gave me a heart attack! I can’t talk now. Text only!
Brenda: Judge being pressured to revoke bail. Prosecuting A.D.A, trying to suppress video from hotel cameras.
'Shit! They're trying to bury this.' Daryl thought.
Dara: Do lawyer stuff! I’m in motion Cannot stop. Bye.
Daryl shut off his phone, no more surprises. He began sealing off both rooms' air supply by gluing the cracks then cellophane wrapping the vents. A gasket went around each door then he positioned a small camera in the ceiling and ran the wire out through a hole in the wall that he sealed with wax. Finally a hose was snaked through the wall and the hole sealed by wax as well. The hose was attached to a splitter connected to a small compressed gas cylinder, similar to a Nitrous Oxide tank. It wasn't that though. The gas inside wouldn't be making anyone laugh. It was the most powerful general anesthetic available in that form. He then tampered with the doorknob. It would be locked on the inside. the door would only be able to open from the outside. Daryl went back to the outer door of the office and cracked it open. He pulled the thread and brought in the laser pointer. All would appear normal now. Quickly he concealed himself in the ceiling of the lounge. The waiting now began. Inside the backpack was a diver's closed-circuit rebreather.
Lowell Fontana went into his office with a smirk. Four of his men took their usual places sitting down, while a fifth held up a small black box. He nodded to Fontana and went out. The door was left open. Several times the men randomly got up and went out for coffee. Underlings came and went, dropping off cash and making reports.
Fontana picked up the ringing phone. "Yeah?"
He signalled the man closest to the door to shut it then spoke into the phone. "What's your problem? Look, we have the A.D.A. getting the bail revoked. We have people on the inside. Once he's back in, he won't be coming back out. No, he won't even last the day. The guy's lawyer is doing her thing too. Hey! None of it's going to matter worth a shit, if you don't get a handle on that little psycho of yours! We've been covering up his messes for quite a while now and it's been at OUR expense. Get him under control or get him somewhere it doesn't matter or cost as much!"
Fontana dropped the handset back to the receiver. "Fucking idiot."
"That Councilman and his punk are more trouble than they're worth, Boss." One of the men commented.
Fontana glared. "And you're lucky the office was swept for bugs. Don't ever do that again."
What they didn't know, was the detector only picked up radio signals. It would not detect a video signal over a wire and certainly not someone in the ceiling with an old school stethoscope against the wall. They also had no idea that the room was filling up with a silent predator. Once the door was closed, it was secure. It was also air tight. Slowly, one by one, the men began nodding off in their seats. Lowell Fontana felt tired and was about to say something. That's when he noticed that all his men were asleep.
"What the? OH SHIT!" Fontana exclaimed.
He knew he was in trouble, just not exactly how. Things were fuzzy and his vision was starting to swim. All he knew; was that he needed to be somewhere, anywhere, else at this moment. He tried. He got as far as rounding his desk when he succumbed to the attack and fell to the floor. The receptionist outside didn't look up when the inner door opened. If she had, she would have screamed at the sight. A figure in all black with a device strapped to his back with a hose going to his mouth approached and tapped her shoulder with a stun-gun. She would wake up bound and gagged in a closet to be found by very confused bodyguards later.
Lowell Fontana came to and looked up to see a balaclava wearing figure standing in front of him. "What the fuck?"
"A world of shit Fontana and you're deep into it." The figure replied.
Fontana became angry. "You're dead. Understand?"
The man shook his head. "You have no trackers on or in you. Nobody paid attention to me leaving the building with you in the box. Even if they did, I looked exactly like your guy Kirkland. He's not too concerned though. Comatose guys are like that."
"Well. So you knocked me out and grabbed me. Congratulations. Won't do you any good. The organization won't pay ransom. They'll just kill you. If it's information, you're still shit out of luck. I won't talk." Fontana said defiantly.
Daryl had been circling around him during the diatribe and chuckled then slapped the back of his head. "Got it all wrong there, sport. I already got everything I wanted. You were extremely cooperative."
Fontana noticed the syringe on the floor. It was recently used.
"What did you do to me?" Lowell demanded.
Daryl turned around a monitor and used a remote control. Lowell watched as he was injected just as he had come around. Every question was answered truthfully and without hesitation. Even the cipher key to the encryption he used in his journal. Worst of all, he gave up Councilman Abner Gloutner and his psychotic son Drew. Drew being the actual murderer and rapist of Aaron's little sister. He had already gotten leverage over the foster-parents. They practically delivered her like a pizza to him when he called, the first time Aaron failed to collect from Daryl. The doomed girl had been dressed specifically to drive Drew Gloutner into a lustful episode. Fontana knew with her just so, she wouldn't survive. It was his plan all along. It sent a message to all the underlings and took the councilman deeper into their debt.
Fontana watched in horror as the video showed him gleefully admitting to everything in great detail. Finally he shook himself.
"That won't do any good in court. Not that it'll see the light of day, anyway." Fontana said hotly.
Daryl tilted his head. "Court? What makes you think it will get used in court? As for nobody seeing it, I streamed it to the networks. Live. After the first four questions, I let them ask the rest. Want to see what you did for New York, Miami and Chicago? You even gave directions to body locations!"
Lowell Fontana was speechless. He had no reason to doubt the man in black. The fact he had given up all that he saw he had, was proof enough.
"WHAT THE HELL MORE COULD YOU WANT THEN?" Fontana screamed.
A pistol was produced. It was his own. The magazine was ejected, emptied and a single round tabbed into it then re-inserted back into the butt of the gun. He watched as it was set on the floor in front of him and the man in black walked away. An almost invisible door was opened. He then looked around better and now saw he was in a clear box. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, the glass was bullet-resistant. The meaning was just as clear as the walls around him. The one bullet in the gun was for him. He could choose how he would eat it.
The man's voice came over a hidden speaker. "This is the part where I give you an option. Answer one last question truthfully and I release the cuffs holding you, or don't and I call Delain and tell him where you are."
After a tense moment of silence, the manacles released and he said. "You're empty and I texted him the location just as you came around. Him and his bunch will be here in a few minutes. They won't have any trouble getting the door open, from out here."
Lowell watched as the mystery man turned and left. He looked down at the pistol on the floor and slowly reached for it.
Five minutes later, a derelict lurched out of the alley and staggered down the sidewalk as angry men in suits, leading one that wore a face of fury, climbed out of cars and swarmed into the building then down to the basement. No one wanted to pay attention to the man carried out and placed into one of the cars. Daryl had heard the scream of horror when Lowell Fontana pulled the trigger on his own gun. Only to elicit a loud, resounding CLICK. The bullet had been fake. There would be no easy or quick way out for Lowell Fontana. The news services weren't the only ones to see the video. It had also been streamed to Delain himself. He got to see the full, unedited version. The networks started receiving the stream after certain questions had been asked and answered. Fontana was devastated. He had never been taken out of the building at all, only secreted to the basement.
Daryl had to hurry now. The A.D.A had been called off. Delain had been willing to deal. In exchange for Fontana and his involvement being left out; he would have to give up the councilman, his son, all actions in the neighborhood and give Aaron a million dollars cash, along with safe passage out of Port Klasten with the instructions to go clean. Delain was more than quick to deal. Fontana had learned entirely too much in the short time he had been in the organization.
Some distance away, Daryl was able to lose the vagrant disguise and wore only long shorts, t-shirt, sneakers and a large sport duffel. He looked like any number of young men coming back from a midday workout. A stop at a tram-station and he was able to switch out everything using a public locker and a pre-dropped bag. Fontana had even given up the main location Drew Gloutner stayed at. Also that a new victim was being delivered that day. A young Asian girl that had been trafficked into the country.
During the travel across town, Daryl called Brenda.
"Hey! What's going on?" Brenda asked immediately after answering.
Daryl replied. "Just go about normal stuff. The A.D.A. is going to back off. Keep doing your thing, just know that it won't get fought. I'm almost done."
Brenda paused then said quietly. "Now I know why the news got cut-off in mid-broadcast. You seized the signal, didn't you? You got to the guy."
"I'm not done yet. The real killer is still out here. Soon Brenda." The voice now switched to feminine. "He'll be dancing on my strings soon."
Brenda shivered as the call disconnected. At one time, she'd have never called upon such help. In fact, she'd have even helped the police bring them down. Until two years ago. On the night she was attacked in her own home and had her husband and daughter taken from her by one of her own clients. She had been a brilliant Criminal Defense specialist and worked for the top firm in the city. The money was good and she won her cases. Even though she knew many were anything but innocent. That all changed with one client. A man of incredible cruelty. A savage in a three-piece suit. The fact that she was charging him money was what set him off on her. He took out his anger on her family in exchange. That's when she met Daryl. That, was when she met the Puppeteer. Already notorious, the Revenge-broker told her in clear terms what it would cost to have what she wanted.
Brenda sealed fate with two simple words. Words that would be with her for the rest of her life. "I'll pay."
"Brenda? Is everything ok?" A scared young man asked.
Brenda sighed. "It's fine Gary. Don't worry."
"I didn't do it. I didn't even know that girl. They know that, don't they?" Gary asked.
Brenda felt sorry for him. He was the son of a friend and gay on top of all that. To think he would have anything to do with a little girl should have been laughable. He had always taken to older men. It wasn't a secret either.
"Yes Gary. They know." Brenda answered and wanted to both laugh and scream at the irony of it. "Everybody knows."
No one really paid much attention to the young woman with black hair slipping in through the side door. As it was a posh apartment building, they assumed she was an escort coming in to discreetly see a client. Dara moved as if she were a frequent visitor, taking the private elevator. Many of the buildings had them, mostly for the use of those she was pretending to be. As she stepped out of the elevator into the hall, a tube of lipstick was brought out of her handbag. The duffle was not out of the ordinary either. Many of the 'working-girls' carried them on calls. Needed wardrobe, and/or accessories, for the service were carried in such manner. How true that was, in this instance. She freshened her lip-color at the door and was still holding the tube as the bell was rung.
"Who are you?" A male in his late teens asked after opening the door.
Dara smiled. "Oh, I'm here to take care of you."
A look of confusion crossed his face as a soft puffing sound was heard. A sharp pain was felt in his stomach and he edged back. She followed him inside and closed the door as he fell to the floor. Dara dropped the bag and dug into it. She brought out cuffs, ankle shackles and a fetish-type ball-gag. Drew was secured in seconds. Dara moved through the apartment. She found what she was looking for in the bedroom. The Asian girl was awake and terrified, tied down to the bed. Apparently the main event had yet to begin for her.
Dara removed her gag and asked. "English?"
"Some." The girl said timidly.
Dara nodded. "You have to go. Will the dress I'm wearing fit you?"
The girl frowned. It looked like it would be big on her. "I try. I go?"
Dara nodded as she released her. "Yeah. You definitely go."
After taking off the dress and handing it to her, Dara had to sigh. The dress was at least one size too big. It would have to do though. They weren't the same body dimensions, but to somebody that didn't care, a girl with long black hair wearing a black dress came in then left. Dara showed her to the window and pointed down to the street.
"Go that way. There is a Thai restaurant close by. They will help you. Ask for Trahn." Dara instructed then had her hold up her right wrist.
The girl watched in confusion as a short length of black string was gently tied around her wrist then another around her other wrist and handed her a card. "Go. Pretend you live here. Go fast, but don't run."
She understood the words, since they were simple and did as she was told. The dress didn't fit and she was barefoot, but she went anyway. The American woman had told her a secret way to escape. As she stepped around the body of the man that hurt her, she wanted to at least kick him. The woman wanted her out fast though, so she didn't get to. He had already raped her once then taunted her with a knife. She knew he wanted to kill her and rape her again as she died. She read the small card. It was for a Thai restaurant. Lia took the secret way down and out through a door. Outside she walked quickly in the direction she had been shown. At the place she was told to go, a man saw her come in and took note of her appearance then seized her wrists.
"You saw?" He asked.
Lia nodded. "You are Trahn?"
He nodded and led her to the back. "We will get you home."
"Who was she? Why did she help?" Lia asked.
Trahn looked at her in confusion. "You are mistaken. The Puppeteer helped you. He is very dangerous."
Lia shook her head. "It was a woman. She was pretty. Even gave me her dress. I saw her body. She was no man. Why did she tie these strings to me?"
"No child. You saw the Puppeteer. The Puppeteer can be anyone they want to be. Very dangerous to evil people. Those strings tell me it was him. when I saw the Puppeteer, he was a man and spoke as a Russian. You have seen the Puppeteer and she was an American woman. Come, let us get you clean and dressed so you can go home soon." Trahn said.
Back at the apartment Daryl finished changing. He even pulled on a latex face mask with wig attached after getting dressed in male clothing from the bag. The way they had brought in the girl, was exactly how he would take out the boy. In a trunk, using the private elevator. He brought out his phone and made a call.
"I'll be down in five minutes. Get ready for me." Daryl said when the call was answered.
Five minutes later he pulled the trunk out, using a wheeled cart and brought it over to a minivan. The hatch-back door opened and he loaded it inside. The door closed and he climbed into the passenger seat.
"The usual place." Daryl said to the driver.
The older man nodded and drove away. Thirty minutes later they pulled inside a warehouse at the edge of the dock area. Daryl unloaded the trunk and closed the door.
"Come back at 4 a.m. Ben." Daryl said.
Drew woke up and felt uncomfortable. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and couldn't move. He opened his eyes and they began to focus. He was strapped down to what looked like a cross between a table and chair. He was on his back, but tilted slightly head up while his arms were straight away from his body. His legs however were spread and elevated while bent at the knee. He was also naked. His body felt sore, as if he had been doing all his favorite things for days.
"Oh, you're awake again." a female voice stated.
Drew could only move his eyes and saw the speaker. She was tall, moderately built with long dark hair and stunning. She came closer and regarded him then slowly drew her nails down his torso. It made him quiver.
"Who are you? What's happening?" Drew asked.
The woman continued, now teasing him with her nails and replied. "Someone not nice and something VERY bad."
Drew's body was betraying him by responding to her, which seemed to be exactly what she wanted. "My father is a councilman. He knows people."
Dara continued with her nails on him. "His so-called friends are rather busy right now, trying to cover up their connections to him. You have more pressing concerns. You've been quite the little psychopath. Doing all those horrible things to girls. If it all came out, you'd be touted as the most horrific serial killer along the Pacific coast. Rapist before that. And to think, it still wasn't enough. You had to keep trophies and made videos of them. My, my. It's going to be quite the treasure trove of depravity the police find in a few hours."
"No! No!" Drew denied. No one knew where he kept those things. Not even his father knew he even had them.
Dara slid a hollow cylinder down over his erection then placed a band to hold it on and maintain that fullness.
Drew eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
Dara leaned and purred. "You get off on doing such horrible things to girls. Raping them. Hurting them. Torturing them. Killing them. You really should share in the experience. I did ALL this; just for you. What a time you're going to have!"
A machine was brought over and aimed at his scrotal area. It had a long phallic attachment on the end of a rod. Then a robotic looking arm with a blade was brought over and a cable looped around his neck. Drew now felt fear.
Dara pointed to the one situated underneath. "That machine is going to have you experience what it's like to have someone inside you and taking their pleasure. That's not all it does. It's going to hurt you. The inside was hollow. It isn't anymore. As it STROKES your inside, spikes are going to extend outward. That precious hole of yours is going to be torn to ribbons, Drew. Just like you did to those girls."
Drew looked at it in horror. He would be raped and shredded in the process. He was about to do nothing, but scream.
"This clever thing." Dara said and patted the robotic arm. "Is going to randomly cut your body, all over. Some deep, some shallow, some long and some short. Everywhere, but your face and jewels. No, no, Drew. You're going to be attractive and intact. This thing here is going to suck. It'll draw every drop of juice out of your dick and keep going. You can forget about it slipping off after you pop. That band doesn't just hold it on, it keeps you hard. You're going to wish it gets cut off. I hear that if such a device is used for too long, it actually starts pulling blood out. Bet you can't wait to find out if that's true!"
Drew Gloutner was now terrified and she wasn't done. A slight tug at the cable around his neck refocused his attention back to her.
"I'm sure you already know; strangulation does some fascinating things during sex. Well, it's going to take you to NEW heights as well!" Dara announced then looked at her watch. "Wow! So early. It's just barely 10! Well, let's not waste a second of your time. Enjoy Drew, all this; JUST for you!"
A remote control was held in front of his face and a button was pushed. The sound of a machine starting its action was heard and he felt a tightening around his penis just as something nudged his anus. A moment later, there was a savage thrust into him then repeated withdrawal and insertion as he howled. Soon he felt sharp tingling inside himself and pain. The noose around his neck began to tighten and the cylinder on his shaft started a stronger pulsing of suction as a blade slid across his left pectoral. He went from yelling to gurgling as his vision began to get fuzzy. This was only the beginning. In minutes he would become hoarse from his protests of things that were not going to stop for hours to come.
All day long, the news ran the story. Councilman Gloutner's son had been found dead and dumped in one of the Councilman's many secretly owned properties. The local stations had received a video file via an anonymous email account. Drew happily recounted every vile thing he had done, including the recent rape and murder of 13 year old girl, provided by an associate of his father, which was being pinned on the son of a man that refused to cooperate and fund his father's reelection. One little detail was being held back from the press. Though Drew Gloutner's body had been found dressed post-mortem, he had also been found with several black strings tied to his body. Ankles, wrists and neck. Strings that had been roughly cut and frayed at the free ends.
The Detective in charge had looked on in fury and muttered. "Damn you, Puppeteer. One day I'm gonna catch your ass and sell it to the highest bidder! I have IAD crawling all over my ass now, because of you!"
Daryl shut down the monitors and silently padded to his bedroom on bare feet then laid down. It had been a long week. Just as his eyes began to drift closed he looked over at the picture on the nightstand. It was the only photo in the house.
"G'night, Dana. Everybody knows, sis." Daryl sighed and went to sleep.
To be continued.....
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Deidra Pohlton stood on the sidewalk waiting for the tram. Six other people stood along with her. It was early morning and they were all heading to their various places of work. She had known the most recent for at least two years. The rest, had been there before she moved into the neighborhood.If any had bothered to actually look at her face, they would have seen her barely holding back tears. She was ready to break down at any second. A shuffle of one's feet alerted the rest to look and see the tram approaching.
Last night she had taken a bath and dressed for bed. Before turning in, Deidra laid out her clothes for the next day. A blue floral print on white background cotton dress, belt a shade darker blue, white silk lingerie and mid-heel white sandals. She went to bed after that only to wake up to renewed horror. The clothes she had picked were not where she laid them out. In their place, a completely different selection lay. A solid red silk dress, black lace lingerie, nude thigh-hi's and red patent opera pumps. The clothes she had chosen were nowhere to be found anymore. Completely gone, not hidden like last time.
The tram was slowing down to stop. Deidra looked at it. The trams were so big. They looked very heavy. If a person fell in front of one, they were sure to be crushed. Would that hurt? Would it hurt for a long time? Would doctors be able to save her if it happened? Could she do it before anyone stopped her? Deidra lurched forward and was bumped by the person next to her.
"Oh, it's here already?" a man asked then tucked his newspaper under his arm and picked up a briefcase.
Deidra snapped out of the spell. She had been about to throw herself under the tram in hopes of killing herself. Quickly she turned to the man beside her.
"Mister Collins, what day is it?" Deidra asked.
Mister Collins chuckled. "Deidra, if the paper didn't tell me today is Thursday; I would be asking you. I really should get one of those old watches that tells that. I hear they're coming back into fashion."
Deidra nodded. "Maybe. Thank you Mister Collins."
'Thursday. Amy hits the shops on Thursday morning while the kids are at day-care.' Deidra remembered.
A plan formed. This chance was slim, but possible. She called into work on the tram, but only after switching to another at the next exchange. That wasn't all she wanted to change, but felt that might not be the smartest idea. The rough plan began taking more shape after that thought. It all hinged on her sister being her usual self. Two hours later, chance broke in Deidra's favor as she waved to get her sister's attention.
Amy Halifax blinked then walked forward to greet Deidra. "Sis, aren't you supposed to be at work?"
Amy saw the clear look of desperation on Deidra's face. She knew her sister was being stalked.She had tried to help, but nothing changed. He was very good. They couldn't catch him, prove he was doing it or even stop him. They couldn't even find out who he was. For the past six months her sister was being steadily driven to the breaking point. She would break or submit to some insane man's obsession to control her very life.
"I need to pick up some things and I hate shopping alone, no fun." Deidra replied and stood up.
Together older and younger sister went toward several shops. The picture became even clearer, when Deidra directed her sister away from her usual shops. In fact, they left that shopping center altogether and went to another. Amy wondered what exactly her sister was doing when she led them into a lingerie store. She pulled two chemises at random, not even looking at the size, and practically dragged her to the fitting rooms. Amy was by no means, stupid. She caught on fast. They went into separate booths and changed. Amy was about to drop the chemise over her head when the curtain moved. Deidra stopped her and gestured to remove lingerie and jewelry too.
'Oh dear God, she believes he may be messing with our underwear and jewelry now!' Amy thought, but did remove her bra and panty set.
Deidra pulled her from the booth after the chemise was on and into another one three spaces down. She pulled her sister close and whispered frantically into her ear.
"Amy, help me! I almost threw myself under a tram!" Deidra confessed and started sobbing.
Amy hugged her younger sister tight and said quietly. "I've heard of somebody. A revenge-broker. They're very expensive, but never fail. We'll have to pay. they'll get this guy, but we can't not pay. Do you understand? I can get the money together, I hope. If not, I'll have to sell Grandma's stuff to make up the difference."
Deidra still sobbed and nodded then said the words that couldn't be taken back. "Please, they can even have me for a while, if they want. Anything! Just make it stop!"
Amy's heart broke for her sister, that she was willing to go such lengths. She now began to pray it wouldn't come to it.
"I'll find them Dee. I'll get help." Amy said.
Deidra took another moment then began to collect herself. "We can't stay like this. It'll be bad."
Amy hugged her once more then joined her to go back to their changing booths. They got dressed, went out to the sales floor, selected a matching lingerie set each and checked out. Deidra tried to pay for her set and the card was rejected.
"He locked my card!" Deidra cried.
Amy spat angrily. "Son-of-a-bitch! Here, I have CASH!"
After paying Amy looked down at Deidra's purse and gestured for her to take out her phone. She knew the bastard had probably hacked it and was using it to spy on them. She took it and saw that not only was the phone on, the camera was up. She filled the screen with her hand, giving the middle-finger.
"Go To Hell you crazy shit! Leave my sister alone!" Amy demanded then not only turned it off, she removed the battery. For good measure, she did the same with her own.
"Ladies, what's going on?" The saleswoman asked.
Deidra looked whipped. "I'm being stalked. Nobody has been able to catch or stop him. Now he steals my clothes while I'm asleep. I didn't want to wear this today. He took what I picked. If I wore something else to spite him, he will steal all my clothes."
"First, we get you a burn phone. Second, we go to the bank and get your card unlocked." Amy ordered and took her sister out of the store.
An hour later, they had accomplished their goals. The bank manager suggested that they leave the card locked and simply freeze the account to only indoor service. Deidra would have to stand inside the bank at a teller to make transactions. He also suggested that they get her a prepaid card and only load a little money onto it, just in case. He then read off the email address they had for her.
"That's not my email. How did that get on there?" Deidra asked.
The manager checked his information and sighed. "It was filed online, from your computer. The stolen card notice also came from it. Your stalker is very good. He knows how to really disrupt your life, Miss Pohlton. Please confirm ALL you information and I will lock it. No updates unless in person."
Deidra gave him the correct information. It was entered then secured with notation that only in-person updates via his terminal could be entered.
"There Miss Pohlton. No more shenanigans. Unless they can impersonate you enough to fool me, your banking is secure now." The manager stated then added. "And nobody fools me. Place your left ring-finger on that pad."
Amy looked confused. "Why that?"
The manager smirked. "People are always asked to use their thumb. When security comes into doubt, I ask for a different finger. I've never been by-passed. If it came to it, I could even use your foot-print to secure your account."
Deidra thought about then said firmly. "Do it!"
"Yes Ma'am." The manager smiled and brought out a long scanner.
He connected it to his terminal then laid it on the floor. Deidra slipped off the red pump and gently rested the bottom of her left foot on the plate. A moment later he smiled again.
"Done. Other than drawing out more than twenty dollars per day, you have to come see me and be scanned." The manager said. "Withdrawing twenty dollars two days in a row will flag for the person to be detained. More than twenty dollars per withdrawal, the person will be flagged. Any attempt to access your account will require the person to be photographed."
Amy was shocked they could go to such measures at the drop of a hat. "Have you ever dealt with a situation like this before?"
"Similar. A bank-robbery team and some embezzlers. They were good, but I'm better. I caught each one." The manager smiled.
Deidra finally smiled a little. "Thank you."
The manager nodded. "Free advice. I'd make sure my employer knows not to allow any redirection of pay. If needed, issue a check and you sign for it. Good luck."
"We'll take all we can get." Amy said and ushered her sister out.
The rest of the day was spent going from place to place and putting as high of security measures as could be provided. The final stop was Deidra's work. Her boss looked defeated, only because there was nothing else he could do to help her. He promised not only to begin issuing an actual check to pay her, he said he and his secretary would escort her to her bank personally and extend the lunch hour to do so. Then he changed his mind, she would not go to lunch until returning from depositing her pay. He deemed it company business and therefore should be conducted on the clock.
Deidra sat in her bed. She had fixed her closet so that it would not open without giving off a sound, as would her bedroom door. She also set up a tiny camera that recorded in the dimly lit room after turning off the lights. It looked like a piece of white plastic. The reason why was evident. It matched up to her bed's headboard. Finally she scooted down, after an hour and tried to sleep.
Amy had been surprised when the message came in. It was very simple. She was to simply go to the botanical garden at sunset, wearing a white dress and walk the paths. She did as instructed for several minutes when she encountered a man in a brown suit sniffing one of the blooms.
"Lovely fragrance." the man said with a British accent as if the flower cared he was complimenting it.
Amy smiled, she could smell it's perfume from her distance. It did smell nice.
"Fussy little flower. It likes to be left alone." He commented then said in a lower tone. "Too much attention; can be a bad thing. Wouldn't you agree, Amy?"
Amy froze in mid-step. The man knew who she was. She regarded him. He was the same height as she was, but older. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and held a cane in his left hand. He turned and put her left hand into the crook of his right arm and encouraged her to walk. A moment later a soft squeal was heard. He gently took her purse and concealed it behind a border wall and walked them down the path.
"What just happened?" Amy asked.
The man sighed. "It seems that someone has some type of listening device in your handbag, my dear. They know that simply accessing your cellular telephone is not reliable as a means to eavesdrop on your conversations."
Amy looked at him incredulously. It had been that simple.
The gentleman chuckled. "I'm afraid my cane is a bit more than just a simple walking stick. It is also a means for detecting any electronic devices that transmit a steady signal. Bugs, you call them."
"My friend never mentioned you were British." Amy stated.
"Mister Banner met one of my associates. You were so nice to omit that the one he met was also a very attractive young lady as well." The Gentleman chuckled, that confirmed he was who he was supposed to be. To her at least.
Amy blushed. she had meant to smoke out an impostor, perhaps even the stalker. She now relaxed some, she had met the Revenge-broker.
"So what do I call you, Mister?" Amy asked.
The Gentleman chuckled. "Manco. My parents were rather enamored with a certain star of the screen."
"Ok Mister Manco." Amy replied.
Manco nodded. "Now. As I understand it, the problem seems to be attention. Too much of it, correct? A would-be suitor. I'd think your husband would be deterrent enough for such matters."
"It's not me Mister Manco. My sister. Attention is understating things. Deidra is being stalked by a lunatic trying to control every part of her life. He even tried to get her fired from her job two months ago. Now he's trying to lock away her money and stealing her clothes to force her to dress for him. Mister Manco, I'll be blunt. Deidra almost tried to commit suicide this morning. Can you stop this? Can you save my sister?" Amy asked.
Manco sighed. "That does put a fine head to it. I appreciate your frankness. The answer is, Yes. I can uncover this person. I assume you've been to the local constabulary and met with disappointment?"
"Yes. Deidra even hired a security man. He lasted a day. He got arrested for having child porn on his computer. The only reason he got off, was the fact that the techs discovered the time stamps. Turned out that when the porn was put on his computer, he was in court testifying. However, the firm didn't like that Deidra's stalker would go after their people in such a way. They refunded her money and dropped her case." Amy stated.
"Bugger." Manco commented. "That was rather nasty. Very well then. You do understand, I am not a public servant. My services do not come gratis."
Amy nodded. "Yes, Mister Manco. You do this for a fee. How much must we pay?"
"Twenty-five thousand. This is not negotiable, dear. It is, however, the minimum. I understand and sympathize, but this is the price I set." Manco replied.
Amy stopped walking. "I can have that by Tuesday. Is money all you want?"
Manco looked at her in puzzlement. "Of course. Were you under the impression I accepted some other form of payment, a non-currency, such as precious metal or gemstones?"
Amy looked relieved. "No. I was just hoping that you would only want money."
Manco now understood. "Amy, I am many things. I am not, however, going to victimize you or your sister. Whatever you or she thought I would demand, put it from your mind. I would not end one suffering, just to inflict another."
Amy noticed they had circled around and were coming back to the spot where her purse was concealed. The funny part, was that he had obviously been able to see it the whole time. He had been watching to see if anyone came to retrieve the bag.
"You will be contacted with the instructions on things to do and how to make payment. You will definitely know it is real. From now on, do not discuss me in any form or fashion. It will be a bit before I have this sorted out." Manco smiled then stopped them at her bag and pulled it from concealment. "Here you are."
Amy smiled then tipped the bag to spill it's contents on the pathway. "Oops! How clumsy of me!"
Manco chuckled, he knew she wanted him to find the device. He swept the head of his cane over the scattered objects then the bag itself. The cane squealed passing over the bag's strap. The bug was implanted at the center, where it would sit close to her face so all conversation would be picked up. Amy nodded, now aware of its location and began to gather up her things.
"Have a nice day, Sir. Enjoy the garden." Amy said and turned to leave.
Manco nodded and went back to wander more. "Tah."
When he began to whistle to himself she froze then wanted to laugh at recognizing the tune. It all made sense now. Manco. The man with no name, played by Clint Eastwood. He rode in, caused all kinds of trouble for people doing whatever they liked and rode away after the job was done. Amy smiled to herself. It seemed this revenge-broker had a sense of humor. She went home in a good mood. Daryl went back to walking the garden. It was going to take time and patience to smoke the stalker out.
Daryl knew the first thing he needed to do was secure Amy's house. Then he could move on to her sister and start counter-surveillance to catch him. Stalkers had one thing in common. They wanted to completely dominate their prey. Make nothing available to them, but the stalker. Deidra wasn't picked randomly. She had interacted with him at some point and that was when she gained attention. It would have only been once, but that would be enough. Stalkers had obsessive personalities. They devoted everything to whatever fascinated them. Their focus only widened to detect threats, any who would shield they prey from the efforts to isolate and dominate.
That would be the chink in his armor. Stalked people withdrew from people, as they wouldn't know who could be trusted, hoping to block off the stalker. That was ineffective. In fact, it actually helped the stalker more. Daryl played the old Leonard Cohen song and even sang along as he worked. He needed to find the ways the sisters interacted with the world first.
Deidra woke up and looked at the spot on her headboard. The camera was missing and her closet door stood open as did her bedroom door. The closet was empty except for a single dress and pair of very high heels. The message was beyond clear; she was to wear those clothes, period. In just the nightgown she went out and knocked on the woman across the hall's door.
The door opened and the elderly woman smiled. "Hello sweetheart."
"Hi Mrs. Goldmyer. Could I use your phone please?" Deidra asked.
Edna nodded. "Of course."
Deidra went straight to the phone and dialed. The building manager first. Deidra raised Hell for a few minutes uninterrupted then hung up. Edna Goldmyer was shocked at what had happened. Deidra was already dialing again.
"Hello?" Amy answered the call.
Deidra didn't waste a second. "He broke in and stole all my clothes last night."
"WHAT? Nevermind. I'm on my way now. I'll bring you some things." Amy said.
An hour later Deidra watched as the locksmith changed the locks on her door. In fact, he actually had to set the pins and cut the key to fit it. The building manager began going through each room. He looked over anything he saw, looking for cameras. He was able to find one in each smoke detector. That was obvious, as there were only supposed to be three. Deidra wanted to kick herself at that. She never paid them any attention before. After that she began to look around. She was looking for things she couldn't remember buying or if given, by whom.
As the sun went down Sunday, nobody paid much attention to the ragged woman pushing a shopping cart full of cast-off things, cans and decorated with what looked like Christmas tinsel; turned into the alley of a building across the street. Anybody that thought of venturing in, quickly veered away. The woman could clearly be heard crooning to herself about how the secret people were doing things to rule everyone's lives. As dark fell, anyone that even thought about taking up the alley was dissuaded. The rambling woman started wrapping tin foil around her head and secured it with an old stocking cap. She didn't stop there. Sheets of the crumpled and straightened foil were being tucked into her grubby sweater, up sleeves and around legs to be held in place by dirty socks pulled up to her knees. Nobody, no matter how destitute, wanted to be around a 'Foiler'. On and on she rambled.
Unnoticed, a small square object flew up from the cart and silently zoomed away. It went up then flew across the street. It hovered and slowly began to orbit in front of the windows. It stopped at one and landed on the small ledge. A few minutes later, several more did the same on other window ledges. More took place on top of the building. Twelve in all. Each drone had a camera and was looking in different directions. The feeds being sent over encrypted channels.
Diedra was lying in her bed. She had seen the cameras pulled from the smoke detectors and the fake ones removed completely. As a last second thought, she put the next day's dress and lingerie between the mattress and box spring directly under her. She also wedged a chair from Mrs. Goldmyer under the doorknob of her bedroom. Her eyes were getting heavy and started to drift closed. Eventually she began to sleep.
Daryl sat in the alley in his disguise. Nobody ever figured out that the rambling that was constant wasn't really him talking anymore. It was actually an hour long recording on a loop. The foil served more than one purpose. Yes, it convinced people that the bag-lady was unbalanced, but it also confused his heat signature. That was needed for the counter-surveillance. A smart stalker would use some type of night-optic to check for anybody lurking too close to his prey. With enough of the foil wrapped around him, Daryl's body heat became more randomly emitted. Anything, but a human body. Under the blanket, he watched the shifting images from the drone cameras.
Just after Two in the morning. Daryl's patience paid off. A man stepped out of the stairwell and walked down the hall. He stopped at Deidra's door and crouched down. Daryl counted to thirty then used his phone to send a signal. Five seconds later, the fire alarm on the floor below Deidra's went off. Lights went on all over the building. The man in front of Deidra's door bailed. He tore back down the hall and into the stairwell. Daryl watched the screens for the exits. People streamed out in their night-clothes, including Deidra with an elderly woman similarly dressed. The building was now totally clear. Daryl wanted to swear. The man didn't come out any of the doors. Nor had he went to any of the other floors.
"You're coming in through the basement or you're holed up in it." Daryl whispered to himself as Firemen began entering the building.
He watched them sweep the entire building. He had counted them going in and again when they came out. No additional members. The stalker was coming and going through the basement. He had either found an access point or made his own. The tenants were being allowed back into the building. Daryl settled back and waited for things to settle down, then he could turn on the motion sensors for the cameras and take a nap.
Deidra walked back up with Edna Goldmyer. She stopped at her door and noticed something odd. The was a slim metal tool on the floor in front of her door.
"Deidra? What is it sweetheart?" Edna asked.
Deidra shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe one of the Firemen dropped it?"
Edna bend down and looked at it then shook her head. "That's one of those lock picker things! I'm calling Earl!"
Deidra gasped and felt fear slam into her. Within minutes the building manager came up and looked at the object.
"Son-of-a-bitch! That's a lock-pick alright! Damn it!" Earl swore.
Deidra was confused. If he was picking the lock, why would he set off the alarm? Why would he leave the pick behind?
"I don't think he set off the alarm." Earl said.
Deidra looked up. "What?"
"You were talking out loud. He wouldn't have left that behind, other than by accident. He wouldn't have set off the alarm either. He dropped it because the alarm went off and had to leave it behind or didn't realize he was leaving it behind. He got spooked by the fire alarm. It got set off on purpose though. The Chief said it got overridden and set off." Earl told them.
Edna hugged Deidra and whispered in her ear. "Sweetheart. I think you finally picked up a guardian angel."
That's when it hit. Deidra want to fall to the floor, crying and laughing at the same time. It wasn't an angel. Her sister had done better. She had found her help at last. Deidra went back into her apartment and checked things. Everything was exactly as it was supposed be. She locked the door, wedged the chair then went back to bed. She fell asleep almost instantly, with a smile.
Wilton Kanick kicked the wall and put a hole in it. His computer revealed someone else had been in the fire alarm system and overrode it to go off. He started going through all the cameras. No strangers had entered the building since the locksmith had changed her locks. He had went to pick the lock. Once inside he could disassemble the lock, make a key then put the lock back together. He would also replace the cameras they had found. He still had four cameras in the apartment.
"SOMEBODY'S TRYING TO INTERFERE DEIDRA! I WON'T HAVE IT, YOU'RE MINE!" Wilton yelled at the screen showing her sleeping peacefully, with a smile on her face.
He went after her computer. He'd go through it to use her online pay information to sap her account. She would be punished for other people trying to keep her away from him. He went to the access screen and typed in the code. Nothing happened. He typed it again, no response. He ran a test and found the problem. Her computer wasn't connected to the internet at all. He went back to the cameras and backed up the video. She had not only disconnected it from the modem and turned it off, she'd unplugged it! That wasn't all she had unplugged. The television and phone as well. He couldn't remotely switch on the television to wake her up or cause a noise a complaint. He couldn't call to wake her either. He knew her cellphone was no longer in service. The clone he had made had done nothing since she had met her sister and went shopping. Even the clone of the sister's was dead too. His rage flew as he went after anything that didn't matter at the moment.
Amy was all smiles Monday morning. Deidra had called first thing that morning and told her that she'd had her first actual sleep in weeks. She didn't go into detail, she was at work and happy. Amy hung up after Deidra did and sighed in relief. the ringing of the doorbell caught her attention and she went to answer it. A glance through the peep-hole showed a woman in some type of service uniform.
"May I help you?" Amy called out through the door.
A feminine voice answered back. "Manco Exterminating."
Amy threw the locks and opened the door to a cute woman with shoulder length brown hair carrying a sprayer and a satchel.
"Please come in. I'm glad you could get to me today." Amy invited her in and read her name patch. "Holly."
"I had a cancellation. Client's boy has the chickenpox so I was able to come by." Holly explained.
Amy closed the door and locked it. Holly pumped her sprayer and began at the front door and went around the perimeter of the room. Amy noticed the wand wasn't the only thing in Holly's hand and forced herself not to smile. Insects weren't the only bugs she was going to deal with.
"Not to worry. This is made from chrysanthemums, harmless to people and pets, but effective against insects." Holly explained and sprayed around an air vent.
Amy watched her work. She certainly acted like a real exterminator, even talked like one too. Finally Holly finished spraying and set the tank down at the front door. She started going back through the house, carrying the satchel and began taking things apart and removing pieces. The things she removed were put into a metal looking box kept in the satchel. After finishing in the living room she nodded to Amy.
"Your house is now clean. There was a tap on the hard-line, but I killed that before coming down here. The only vulnerability is your car and cellphone. So I'll need you to unlock it for me when I go back out." Holly stated.
Amy nodded. "Oh god, I'm so glad now. I was worried that he bugged my house too. Wait, what about the computers?"
Holly smiled. "Taken care of half an hour before I arrived. There was a penetration. The trapdoor is closed for now, but he can try to access again. With enough time and effort, he will regain access."
"Ok. What now?" Amy asked.
Holly brought out a DVD case. It was a common romantic comedy movie that many women liked.
"Take this to your sister at work this afternoon. It's the real deal. It'll entertain her tonight. She needs to call you from her apartment hard-line tonight and arrange to meet you tomorrow morning to return it. He's going to think messages are being passed. He'll try to steal it. Let him. Put up a fuss, but let him get away with it." Holly instructed.
Amy nodded. "Ok. If that's what we need to do. Deidra called just before you came. She actually slept last night. Did something happen?"
"From what I understand, yes. What, exactly, I don't know. Not my thing." Holly admitted.
Amy was puzzled at that. "It isn't? What is?"
Holly tilted her head. "I'm just a sweeper. The old man sent me. Oh yeah. He told me to give you this."
Amy was given an envelope.
"That's it. My part's done. Take care." Holly said and gathered up her things to leave.
Amy showed her out and used her remote to unlock her car. She watched Holly go over it and seem to collect a couple of things then close the door and wave. Amy re-locked the car then opened the envelope. Inside was a single page from a printer.
Hello Amy,
I'm sure by now you have many questions. I can answer some. Firstly, the young woman has been instructed to remove all surveillance devices in your home and car. Holly is very competent I assure you. I do apologize that she is not very knowledgeable about the full going's on. Last night, the stalker tried to gain access to Deidra's apartment. The attempt was unsuccessful due to interference. He should be rather angry by now and I need to provoke him even more. This is where you can help. Holly will have given you a simple movie to loan to your sister for entertainment. It is quite real and I hope she likes it. I understand it is rather popular. Instruct her to call you after watching it to arrange a time in the morning to return it. This must be done out in the open. The ploy is to make him think you are passing communication between yourselves. Her stalker must have a chance to attempt to steal it. Let him succeed. Make a token display of resistance and distress. No need for an award performance. Just give a one-time show. I did mention payment instructions. I shall give them to you now. Please send the payment to the following account number. I do apologize if you expected it to be in the United States, but alas, it is a foreign account. Take heart, things are progressing. It will be sorted soon.
Manco
Amy laughed to herself. This Manco gentleman was definitely that. Amy suddenly remembered what Holly had said. Deidra's apartment wasn't her area. She had only been given the job of sweeping Amy's house for bugs. This Manco gentleman didn't seem the type to be doing physical things. he sounded more like an organizer, a planner. It was starting to sound like a team was at work, different people that did different things all working together on the same thing.
Daryl drove away and used counter-tactics to detect any tail cars. He was clean. that meant the stalker was focused on recovery. Good for Daryl, bad for him. The van was dropped off and 'Holly' was put away. Daryl mounted his racing bike and put on headphones. He needed to make every minute count. A list of dance mixes played as he pushed hard to cover the distance. At the city planners' office he found all the blueprints and technical drawing for the building. That was where he found what he was looking for. The building had a connection to the building directly behind it via the basement. It wasn't a residential building. Another night to be spent in an alley, Hobo Joe was needed this time since Contrary Mary had already been in the area.
Wilton parked at the office building's parking lot and walked toward the side door. A night watchman sat in the lobby, so he used the side-door. As he approached he used his phone. It sent a signal to turn on a video loop of the building's camera feeds, allowing him to go through unseen. He went down to the basement then a hidden panel into the service tunnel. Within minutes he was quietly walking up the stairs of Deidra's apartment. He had cursed himself at losing the pick. He was certain it was dropped in the hallway. He luckily had a second set of picks. Before leaving though, he made sure the override for the fire alarm was disabled and locked out. No surprises this time.
He inserted the pick and tension bar and began working the pins. Wilton knew there was a chair wedged under the knob. It wouldn't deter him. He knew how to get by that as well. The first pin shifted and he applied tension to hold it there and work on the next. It clicked and he smiled. The smile dropped and he almost swore when the lights came fully on and a buzzer started sounding loudly, in the very hall he was in. Snatching both tools and holding them firmly he tore back down the hall and burst into the stairwell. He hopped to cover distance down the stairs and back into the basement. In the tunnel, he swore and kicked at the wall. Someone was still getting in his way! The sister must have hired someone. He had lost all feeds from her house and car that morning. Feeds he wouldn't be able to replace for at least a few more days, which would require him to divide his attention from Deidra. He wrote off the night and began making his way out.
Daryl almost chuckled aloud. The man coming out of the building showing obvious anger was practically broadcasting himself. It wasn't that he was shouting, swearing, stomping or such blatant display; it was the fact that he was moving too calm. He was forcing himself to act cool and that was all Daryl needed. After the car drove away, Daryl used a small laptop to run the plate. It was fake. Not surprising. He entered the picture he'd taken of the guy's face and sent it to his own system to run identity. Meanwhile, he had other things to do. Hacking into the building's security feed was no problem. He couldn't find any recent intrusion. That was a problem. The stalker had set up a hardware package. Daryl began shedding Hobo Joe and get ready to penetrate the building. Two hours later, he was back in character and making his way home.
Deidra enjoyed the movie. It was a good one and she had seen it before. Neither she nor her sister really understood what was going on, but they were doing as instructed. They met at a coffee shop and sat at a table on the sidewalk. The movie case rested on the other edge of the table. Anyone could simply walk up, take it and be halfway down the block before either one could finish objecting. Which was exactly what happened. A young teen did just that. A few minutes later, their waiter walked up and said their coffee and pastries had been paid for. Then he whistled a tune as he cleared away their table, looking like he hoped to not look idiotic for doing so.
Amy gave him a tip and looked at him intently then smiled. "Thank you."
He whispered. "Lady, the guy paid me to whistle like that. I have no idea why."
"I know why. Thank you." Amy said then looked at her sister. "Well, I have errands and you have work."
They hugged and went their ways.
Wilton paid the purse snatcher and sent him off. He then opened the movie case and found, a DVD. The Princess Bride. It wasn't a copy. It looked very real. In his car he put it in his laptop and scanned it. It had the movie, making of and deleted scenes. It was real! It was beyond infuriating. He just paid a hundred dollars, to steal a movie that could be purchased online for one dollar and ninety-nine cents or even a dollar at a second-hand shop! that's when he caught sight of something in his mirror. Something was on the back-glass. he turned around and saw, to his horror, a reticle had been drawn. Cross-hairs. Below that, two words: MINE NOW.
Wilton struggled to get out then looked around. He'd been found. They had gotten somebody to discover him and he had been. Quickly he abandoned the car. It was disposable anyway. He hurried down the street and caught a tram. Four times he switched then picked up a spare car then used every counter-surveillance trick he knew to flush out a tail car. None. He wasn't being followed. At his home, in an old warehouse, he raged. How had anyone discovered him. Then it hit him. The movie. Specifically the case. It must have held a tracker. Whomever they had gotten had set it up to flush him out and he had taken the bait. Again he raged upon things that wouldn't matter to lose. Walls acquired more holes.
"THIS WON'T STOP ME DEIDRA! YOU'LL SEE, REAL SOON!" Wilton swore.
Wilton went back to his car. He'd sit and wait until she got off work. He'd follow her home, then when she went to bed, he'd get into her apartment for sure this time. Had he not been so angry, he'd have seen a person on a bicycle ride by front of the warehouse slowly.
Daryl wanted to shake his head. The guy had been so concerned looking for a car or person getting on and off trams, he completely missed a bicycle courier. Not that it was hard to do. There were so many in the city; you could close your eyes, spit and probably hit three if the wind was right. Daryl went in easy enough. The alarm wasn't even a level-1. He moved fast. His laptop was able to crack the guy's security encryption for his computer network in a mere five minutes. Daryl downloaded what he needed then loaded new software and brought it back online. He now owned it. The really fun part; it was now a weapon against the one who built it.
Daryl continued his search and found several boxes of things that belonged to Deidra. Those boxes were secured then taken outside. He called Billy to come pick them up and deliver to Amy's house. An hour later, 'Holly' went into Deidra's building. Only she wasn't wearing an exterminator's service clothing. She wore the uniform for SightUnseen, an actual counter-surveillance company there in the city. She was even verified as a legitimate technician by the company. She went through the building and found each device then the central junction relay on the roof. Holly's instructions were very precise, locate all illegal devices and install bypass on them, but leave in-place. Earl, the building manager, had followed her to watch. He was shocked at what he learned. Over fifty cameras with audio pickups were all over the building. He had no idea how they had all been placed. That wasn't all Holly did before she left.
Deidra received a call at work from her sister. Boxes of her things had suddenly been just dropped off. Along with a message. 'He belongs to us now, no more fear.' Deidra dug deep within herself and found that last bit of hope to galvanize herself with. At the end of the day, she went home and held her head high all the way. Walking into the building, Earl hugged her and apologized profusely.
Amy showed up and brought several items of her clothes. She had washed some and dropped off the dry-clean items at a service she had never used before, just in case. Deidra used a notepad to write to her sister, knowing the cameras were indeed there, but talked about random things.
What now?
Amy wrote back. I was told to tell you, act like he can't do anything anymore. Make him angry. Set him off.
Amy took the page with her when she left. She was hoping it would all be over soon and her sister would be safe.
Wilton watched his small receiver and grew steadily angrier. The sister was bringing her more clothes.
"What the hell?" Wilton said aloud to himself.
Deidra had gathered up the dresses he had left then smiled and began cutting them into scraps with a pair of scissors. The more she did it, the more she got into it and started just ripping them to shreds. She laughed as she destroyed them. She laughed and cursed him.
"UNGRATEFUL BITCH!" Wilton spat. "Well! Since you won't wear the clothes I pick for you; YOU WON'T HAVE ANY!"
An hour after she turned out her lights and got into bed, he was moving. He went into the building, down to the basement and through the tunnel. Wilton was so angry, he almost forgot to trip the loops for the security systems. He practically ran up the stairs and stomped down the hall to her door then began working on the lock. Right as the last pin clicked into place and the door opened, a very loud alarm went off. It was a piercing wail, easily over a hundred decibels. Not only that, but two brilliant beams lit him up and he could see writing on the door now.
Smile for the camera, Wilton!
Oh yeah,
the cops are coming.
Wilton quit the door and ran. He didn't bother with any form of stealth, he just ran. At the tunnel exit, the door wouldn't open. He had to kick it open then run up. The basement exit door opened and an alarm sounded. He bailed for the side-door, which set off an additional alarm. He ran down to his car and jumped in. Savagely he cranked the key and the engine roared to life. He threw it into gear, floored the pedal and spun the wheel over. He had to escape. He had just gained the edge of the parking lot when all four tires blew. Two seconds later the engine stalled out.
Wilton stared in horror for a second then came to his senses; Of self-preservation. He bolted from the car and ran down the street. Down alleys, the wrong way along a one-way street, across a pedestrian bridge and finally onto the Greenway. His legs felt like they were on fire, his lungs were ready to burst and his heart just wanted to stop. Suddenly, laughter rang out over the public speakers. Not just any laughter, Deidra's laughter. She was laughing and cursing again. Just as she had done when destroying the clothes he left for her. He ran. He ran as hard and as fast as could to get away from there. All the way back to his warehouse. Fumbled the keys and yanked the door open.
The computer system was awakened as he sat down. Another tap of the keys and Wilton's world shattered. There on every screen, was the image of himself, looking horror-struck.
An artificial voice spoke from the system. "Wilton Kanick. Thirty-two. Male. Caucasian. One hundred-seventy-six pounds. Five feet-nine inches. Born Riverside, California."
He sat there completely frozen as his entire life history was recited. Every school, every class, grade point average, known friends, even extracurricular activities and groups were given. Then his entire work history and specialist training was given. Especially being fired from a Los Angeles Private Investigation firm for taking surveillance too far on a subject. then the independent Private Investigators that fired him for the same reason. The state revoking his license. Losing his bonding. Criminal charges, and the trial for them. He was supposed to still be in California for his parole. He had violated it. Clips of his stalking of Deidra began to play. The cameras he had used to watch her had also seen him and all he had done.
"As you have watched, you have been watched Wilton Kanick. You will BE watched. Your data has been forwarded to local, state and federal authorities. The California Board of Parole has been notified of your present whereabouts and recent activities." the voice stated.
Suddenly a police radio feed came over the speakers. Units were dispatched to apprehend him. Wilton bolted from the chair and ran to the door. He had to get out. They were less than five minutes away. He tried the door, it didn't open. He twisted the knob and it came off in his hand. Deidra's laughter rang out over the speakers.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Wilton screamed.
He kicked at the door to no avail. It was an industrial door.
The voice from the computer spoke again. "We own you Wilton Kanick. You belong to us. There is no escape. All you have done, will be returned upon you."
"OWN ME? NEVER!" Wilton bellowed back. "NO! NOBODY CAN HAVE ME!"
He looked around, searching for an alternate way out and saw old, left over rope. It had been there when he took over the warehouse and hadn't been thrown out. He strode over and snatched it up. The laughter had returned and wasn't stopping this time as a countdown clock ticked down the time remaining before the police arrived. He would not go back to prison. He wouldn't leave. He yelled a vow to haunt her until she died then seize her in the afterlife while he tied a loop and secured the rope. After standing up on the computer station, he tightened the improvised noose around his neck then jumped as high and far as he could. Wilton's body jerked violently at the end of the rope.
Daryl stepped into the light as Wilton gurgled from being strangled. His neck had been snapped and could not save himself, even if he wanted to.
Daryl looked up and focused on the hate-filled eyes looking back. "The police weren't really coming here. That was fake. That 'haunt her and get her in the afterlife' bit was new. Never heard that one before. I'll be honest, you might want to be careful if there is one. There's somebody even angrier than me there already. Probably waiting for you to show up. She'll have a whole lot of fun with you."
Wilton's eyes were glazing over as he watched the mystery man tie pieces of black string around his wrists and ankles while singing a song. All went black as he left him there. Minutes later, the computers began to overload and burn.
Amy and Deidra walked the garden path with the British gentleman they knew as Manco.
"So it's really over?" Amy asked.
Manco nodded. "Yes it is. Things were going all to plan until the finale. One small thing overlooked came into play."
"Will he come after me again?" Deidra asked.
Manco sighed. "No my dear. He will not. Please take that to heart and think no more on it. The affair has been sorted. Not to my personal satisfaction, but it is acceptable. In fact, there is no choice but to accept the outcome as: resolved. Do go on with your life. Find some happiness how you can and put Wilton Kanick behind a door of the past. Lock that door and toss away the key."
Deidra deflated a bit. "Thank you so very much. I don't even know who you are."
Amy giggled. "Of course we do. He's The Man With No Name."
Deidra sputtered to laugh. Manco looked rather smug at that answer.
"Ah. You've indeed pinned me." Manco chuckled then began to walk away. "Look after yourselves."
As he walked away, they heard him whistle the tune from the movie For a Few Dollars More.
Deidra looked at her sister. "Amy. Why on earth would an Englishman use spaghetti-western names and songs?"
Amy was laughing and shook her head. "I have no idea, but he's definitely funny as all get-out. It worked too. We knew it was him when it was him."
Two days later they read in the newspaper that the body of Wilton Kanick had been found in a warehouse, an apparent suicide. It was evident he had been stalking someone, but the information was so corrupted, the authorities had no clue as to whom. They now understood everything Manco meant. He hadn't wanted Kanick dead. He wanted a different outcome. Perhaps Wilton to feel as Deidra had and go to the authorities for help, which would reveal all he had done to her.
"All done Dana." Daryl said as he shut down his system after a clean and leaned back in the chair to sing along to the song. "THAT'S HOW IT GOES. Everybody knows."
To be continued.
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
"Everybody knows, that you're in trouble."
Daryl was pushing hard. Once they got to the crest of the hill, they had it. The only threat was twenty yards behind and closing. Daryl crested the hill, shifted left and was overtaken.
"GO DANA! GO!" Daryl yelled as she started to pass him, he planted his palm to her back and shoved hard to launch her down the hill.
Dana yelled back. "I'M GONE!"
Most people would look at the two and shake their heads. Not surprising, they were twins. Dana and Daryl Tempton, born exactly one minute and forty-seven seconds apart. Dana was the elder of the two. The joke was that since Daryl had been larger, he had to wait. Their mother would smile and say that Daryl had been born already with good manners, letting a lady go first. Daryl would joke back that he had such a good thing going already and knew it, therefore was reluctant to give it up. They had grown up looking extremely similar and it would take a parent to really determine which was which if they decided to play a prank. Dana's hair was thicker, Daryl's had more wave. Daryl's was also slightly lighter. They could hide that fact simply by Dana not wearing her hair in a confined style. Daryl wore his hair tied back most of the time and therefore it appeared Dana had the lighter hair and his was the darker.
Dana pedaled, even though she was going downhill. That would be needed to maintain their lead. Halfway down she heard some noise behind her, but didn't look. She wouldn't do anything to give up the lead her brother had worked for. At the bottom of the hill and a hundred yards further, she crossed the finish line and raised her left arm in triumph as people cheered. Minutes later, Daryl and one of their rivals crossed. Dana was puzzled. That wasn't the one she expected. Where was he?
Daryl took the water bottle handed by their mother. "Thanks Mom!"
"What happened to Jimmy?" Dana asked.
Daryl shook his head. "His front rim failed. He went down and was out cold when we passed. He was being picked up by officials. Just one of those things. Not your fault or his. Unless he knew it was weak and rode it anyway. I don't think he'd do that though."
"No way." Dana shook her head. "He loves his bike too much to do something like that."
The third place finisher came up. "Good race."
Daryl shook hands. "tough, but good. Sorry about Jimmy, Miranda."
"Yeah. Not fair, I wanted to go to line against him." Dana said.
Miranda sighed. "That's what he wanted too Dana. Maybe next time. They're taking him to the hospital, he planted hard."
Dana hugged her. "You held tough on the climb. I was worried about the final sprint."
They all knew that though Dana was light, Jimmy's weight would have given him the edge going downhill. The true battle would have been that flat leading to the finish line. Daryl was an all-arounder and Dana was a sprinter. Miranda was a climber and her cousin Jimmy a sprinter. Two teams that were hard to beat. Sprinters were fast and excelled on flat or mostly flat runs. Climbers were just that, they excelled at going up hills. All-arounders, like Daryl, were strong at all terrains. Not many actually made good all-arounders. Daryl was the best in their age-bracket of mixed team racing. They were jokingly referred to as the Wonder-twins. During a race, the only way to tell them apart, was the fact that Dana was a girl. Her feminine attributes. They rode identical looking bikes and matching shorts and jerseys. Even their shoes and helmets were the same. the only other difference was their sunglasses. Daryl wore purple mirrored-lens wrap-around shades. Dana wore pink-lens of the same style.
After the last pair crossed the line and cooled down for ten minutes, the officials began calling up the place-winners. Dana and Daryl stood holding up their tokens, a bouquet of flowers for her and the trophy for him. They hugged and shook hands with the other place winners then came down. A couple of Dana's girlfriends had arrived just before that and swarmed her as she came down. They teased and joked at Daryl. The twins separated to talk to those they wanted. For Dana, it was her friends, ogling the male competitors. For Daryl, it was the vendors and sponsors for the event. Some had shown interest in the twins' bikes as they were custom by Daryl. That was how things went until everyone finally went home.
To everyone, the twins had a typical relationship that any set of twins would, or just a bit better. Only their parents knew the twins had a secret. Most twins, as children, would try to imitate each other to fool people. Not so easy to do when they aren't the same gender. For Daryl and Dana, it had been. When puberty hit, they adapted. Daryl was able to maintain the voice his sister was developing. Dana could mimic his natural voice. For the most part, they even stayed the same size in clothing. Shoes were the only difference. Daryl began to wear larger shoes. For some reason though, it stopped at just the one size larger. They shared everything though. Both had their ears pierced. Both knew how to apply make-up. both could build and maintain their bikes. They knew how to dance and could do so in either role. If they dressed alike, wore the same make-up and styled their hair the same. It would take their mother several minutes to tell them apart, if they stayed still.
They did that quite often. Daryl impersonating Dana. She had two circles of friends and sometimes wanted to be in two places at the same time. Daryl usually had a good time so they did it often. At fifteen years old, social demands on Dana were getting harder to manage though. That was where things usually went wrong. And in the twins case, that's exactly what happened. There were two parties she had been invited to. A birthday slumber-party of one of the less popular girls she was friends with, and Saturday night bash with a group of the populars. Dana went to the birthday party, Daryl went to the social.
All had been going just fine, until Daryl started feeling tired. That's when things start becoming flashes. Someone held him. He was half carried to walk. Stairs were climbed. A voice laughing. Being laid down. Then voices that became angry. Being moved around. Being pulled at. Something heavy. Pain and being pushed. Angry voices. Another something heavy. More pain, being pushed and angry voices. Another something heavy. More pain, being pushed and angry voices. Pain. Voices angrier. More pain. Blackness.
Daryl woke up on grass. He looked around. It was blurry. Slowly things began to focus. Things began to hurt too. His legs didn't want to cooperate. Slowly he was able to roll over and crawl forward. He was in his front yard. Pain was coming on stronger now. His butt hurt. His balls hurt. His face stung. Blood was in his mouth, he could taste it. He looked down because the skirt didn't feel right and he couldn't feel panties anymore. The skirt was ripped. Not good, it was one of Dana's three favorites. He could see now that his balls were turning a dark color, like a bruise. That's when he noticed the spots of blood on his inner thighs and felt down there. His fingers explored upward and came away from his rectal area bloody. Daryl now understood and began to cry. He'd been raped. Savagely raped. His anus now felt on fire. It took what seemed like forever to get to the door. He punched in the code for the key-less lock and got inside.
Unfortunately, he'd made too much noise. The foyer light came on.
"OH MY GOD!" Carol Tempton shrieked.
Adam Tempton came running. "What's going on? OH GOD, DANA!"
Carol was reaching out to Daryl on the floor and shook her head. "No. It's Daryl. They did it again. Oh dear god, what have they done to you?"
"H-H-Hurt. Hurts, Mama." Daryl managed to mumble then passed out.
Dana had a good time at the party. She was walking home. It wasn't far, only ten minutes. A car passed, slowed to stop then drove off.
"Like I'm going to get into a random car?" Dana muttered to herself in disgust.
She was just about to reach her driveway when the same car screeched to a stop beside her and three guys jumped out. Dana got worried. They looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't know their names. They also looked VERY pissed off. One threw a punch as they reached her and she wasn't able to duck fast enough. The punch connected and she went down with a screech of pain. They kicked at her and were shouting something. Calling her names. then one said something that really made no sense.
"I dunno how you could possibly walk after last night, but everybody's gonna know what kind of freak you are!" One guy said then opened a jar and dumped it.
Liquid splashed on Dana's face and she felt intense burning immediately. Dana screamed for all she was worth from that pain. Her scream was cut off by a kick to her face. She felt the pressure and then her teeth breaking and passed out from it. She never heard the neighbor come out yelling, her attackers leaving with tires squealing or the ambulance and police arriving.
Dana finally woke up and was in alot of pain. Her face was bandaged and felt swollen. She turned slightly and saw through her right eye Daryl laying in a bed next to her. Their parents sitting on a couch, crying. All she was told later, was that she had been attacked. Her attackers had not only kicked her teeth in, crushed her nose, cracked her right cheekbone and broken four of her ribs; they had also poured acid on the left side of her face. It had burned to the bone, disfiguring her permanently. Nobody was telling why Daryl was there. In fact, he was taken out of the room for examinations. That was for three days. Miranda came by on the fourth, while their parents were taking a break and Daryl was being examined again.
Dana labored to talk, but managed to say. "Nobody is telling me anything. What happened to Daryl? Why those guys did this to me? I don't understand."
Miranda said as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Everybody knows that it was Daryl, dressed as a girl at that party. Some jerks Rohypnoled him, they thought he was you. They raped him anyway. There was a couple girls in there too. They were recording it. They hated you. It was supposed to be you. Those guys and girls got so pissed off that it was Daryl, they raped him with more than just the guys' dicks. They stuck other stuff up in him too. They wanted to hurt him really bad. Like, go away and never come back bad."
Dana started crying. She had no words to say, she couldn't find any. Miranda wasn't done though.
"Three of those guys saw you walking down the street. They thought it was Daryl again, trying to act like nothing happened. They're all star football assholes over at Able Forester High. Nobody'll do anything to them. They're football champs and rich. Them and those girls posted the video online. Everybody knows." Miranda informed her. "Nobody is taking your side. Or Daryl's."
Dana cried more. It was all her fault. Miranda had nothing more she could say or do. She offered her sympathy and left. As she was not hooked up to any monitors, Dana could move around. However, if she tried to go out of the room, she would be stopped. That night, after her father fell asleep and the night nurse had made rounds, Dana took the notepad from the nightstand. She took the pen as well and went into the bathroom. What she wrote took two of the small pages. She hid the notepad pages in Daryl's things then took her father's disposable razor from his shaving kit. Dana took it back to the bathroom, got into the shower stall and broke the razor apart. She made every effort to stay silent as she slashed into her wrists several times to be effective. Dana Tempton was successful. The Nurse making final rounds before shift change screamed, waking all.
Daryl was taken out of the room as his father broke down. He didn't understand. Had Dana had an accident in the bathroom? He was put into another room and a nurse stayed with him. He asked her what was going on, but she wouldn't tell him. Three hours later, some man he never met before came in. He said he was a Reverend Something-or-other and patted Daryl's shoulder.
"Son, I am sorry to be the one to tell you. Your parents are distraught, they can't break this to you, so I was asked. I'm very sorry, but your sister is no longer with us. She took her own life sometime during the night. We don't know why. We can only guess. Right now, that guess is that she could not go on with her life after being attacked as she had been. I'm so sorry, Son. I can never imagine what you feel, but I can tell you that she is in a better place." The Reverend said gently.
Daryl sobbed. Dana had always been there. She was part of him. He was part of her. The had always been together. Now they weren't. He didn't understand. Why had all this happened? The reverend left. An hour later, a woman came in.
"Daryl. I'm Christine. How are you feeling?" Christine asked.
Daryl sobbed. "I don't understand! Why?"
"Let's talk about that. Did Dana seem depressed? Had she ever mentioned hurting herself?" Christine asked.
"NO!" Daryl exclaimed then demanded. "Where's Mom and Dad?"
Christine tried to side-step. "Let's talk about something else. Did Dana seem withdrawn? Was she pulling back from everybody?"
"I WANT TO SEE MY PARENTS!" Daryl shouted.
Christine again tried to side-step. "You're upset and that's natural. Was Dana upset?"
"Stop your inquisition, this INSTANT!" A commanding female voice ordered.
Christine turned around and glared. "I don't know who you are, but I'm with a patient!"
The woman strode forward and stared her down. "You are badgering MY grandchild and you WILL STOP! GET! OUT!"
Daryl reached for her. "Gram! What's happening? Where's Mom and Dad? Is it true; what they said about Dana?"
Evelyn Tempton physically pushed the other woman away and sat down next to Daryl and sighed. "Dana is dead sweetheart. She killed herself during the night. We don't know why. Did she tell you anything at all?"
Daryl shook his head and sobbed.
Evelyn nodded in acceptance then went on. "Your father couldn't handle it. He broke. They've had to take him to the psychiatric ward. Carol went into hysterics so they've sedated her."
"DON'T TELL HIM THAT!" Christine demanded.
Evelyn turned around. "I told you to get out. Do it, or I will have you removed."
"He's my patient." Christine countered.
Evelyn played her card. "In absence of Parental supervision, I have guardianship over the children. That means I CAN make decisions regarding their care and treatment, including dismissing YOU. I am. Get OUT!"
Doctor Jason Firmin came in and heard the last statement. "Wait. What's going on?"
"Jason. Remove that woman. I want her nowhere near Daryl anymore. She isn't helping." Evelyn stated.
Firmin sighed and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "Mrs. Tempton isn't playing around. You need to go. Don't argue; just go."
Christine wanted to protest, but the look he gave implied things would go from bad to worse. She left, throwing on last look of hostility over her shoulder.
Evelyn pointed to the floor. "Here, Jason. You WILL talk to us."
Doctor Firmin sighed and stepped to the place she indicated and began. "Alright Evelyn. Daryl was drugged, beaten and gang-raped. Dana was beaten and disfigured with acid. It's believed to be connected."
"What are the police doing?" Evelyn asked.
The doctor told her. "Daryl was processed as a rape victim when he was brought in. We took a rape kit and the police came. They collected evidence and the kit. Daryl was tested for STDs, those came back negative, thankfully. Dana and Daryl were both interviewed when they were conscious and coherent. That's what I know. Daryl's things are being brought in. Right now, in fact."
A nurse came in bringing a box of things and a duffel bag. She put them in the closet. Evelyn instructed that the investigating officers be called in. They arrived within the hour. The news was bad. Video of Dana at the slumber party was accessible. The party Daryl had attended, was denied ever taking place. It hadn't happened at the home of anyone he knew, so it couldn't be confirmed. The two girls that had invited Dana; denied Daryl ever being in their company, claiming they went on a double-date. In short, alibis and no contradictions. Ten minutes. The two Detectives gave them ten minutes and all it did, was make things worse.
After they left Evelyn sighed. "Well. It seems as everything has been all tied up in a messy knot."
"What now?" Daryl asked.
"First, you get released in the morning and I take you home with me. This weekend we have to bury Dana. It seems as though it would be a bad idea to hold a large event. Better to just be us. After that, we'll have to think more about." Evelyn said.
Daryl wept.
Evelyn looked at her surviving grandchild and said firmly. "Daryl, I have lost my granddaughter. My son is broken. My daughter-in-law isn't much better and you have been brutalized. Am I going to lose you to whatever all this is, too?"
Daryl took a moment then shook his head and asked. "No Gram, but what am I going to do? How do I; how do I?"
Evelyn knew what the question was that was refusing to come out. How was he to go on without Dana and his parents?
"That; we will have to figure out." Evelyn said.
As she said; the next day Daryl was released. He went to her home. That weekend, they buried Dana privately. It turned out, the hospital wanted her death kept quiet too. A patient committing suicide in the hospital wasn't something they wanted to be well known. Adam had practically dropped out. He was barely responsive and had to be attended to for practically everything. He wouldn't be leaving serious care it seemed. Carol went the other way. She became hostile and violent towards the staff and had to be sedated then secured as well.
Daryl was sorting through the things that had been brought with him from the hospital. In a jeans pocket he felt paper. He pulled and out came note-pages. Daryl sat down where he was and looked at them in horror. They were in Dana's handwriting. She had written first an apology then recounted everything Miranda had told her and then added the signs of trouble she had not recognized as such.
Evelyn came in and saw Daryl on the floor looking horrified. She slowly sat down beside him.
"Talk to me." Evelyn said.
Daryl shook his head. "No good. Nothing's going to happen. Everybody knows what happened to me and Dana. They know who did it. Dana figured out why. I got raped by ten guys. Three of them were the ones that attacked Dana."
Daryl went on to explain how they had been set up and why. Destynee, the girl that had invited Dana to the party, was angry. Her boyfriend dumped her when he found out she had slept around before taking up with him. He was a virgin and wanted the same in a girlfriend. Dana was as well, which was well known. Also, Dana was arguably more attractive. It seemed that Destynee and her cohorts knew well that Dana would not attend any party that the parents weren't there. The 'parents' Daryl had seen, weren't. They were members of household staff for one of the boys that had raped him. After being seen and assumed to be said parents, they were dismissed for the night. Drugs and alcohol were already being consumed, but not obvious to Daryl. After the bulk of the party attendees had left, that's when he was given the drugged drink.
Angry that it was not Dana to be raped of her virginity, they went ahead and savaged Daryl. The next day, the main three ringleaders saw Dana by chance and recognized her. However, they got the wrong twin again. They thought she was Daryl in disguise again. That was the whole of the reason they attacked and especially dumped the acid on her face. They were made aware of who their victim was. It made no difference. They even assigned monikers to further mock and humiliate the twins; the Fag and the Hag. No longer would they be able to fool anyone. To add further insult, the three boys were able to throw money at the local District Attorney. Even if any evidence or witnesses were produced, it would do no good. The investigation was being buried. Just like Dana had been.
Evelyn sighed. "Well. It seems they covered every angle."
"What now? They do all that, just because they can? We have to take it and nothing happens to them?" Daryl asked in dismay.
"It certainly looks like that is the way it's supposed to be. Is it that way?" Evelyn asked.
Daryl took on a look of anger. "Hell no, Gram! They need to pay!"
Evelyn mulled that over. "Ok. They need to pay. You want to get even?"
"No. Getting even isn't good enough. Getting one better isn't good enough." Daryl growled.
Evelyn looked at him intently and asked. "What do you want?"
One word. It said everything and so much more.
"Revenge!"
Daryl was withdrawn from school. For a month he searched over the net and made a list. Then he gathered up two bags of things, took the keys to his car and left with all the money he had. Two years he was gone. He went from place to place, seeking out people to learn from. Honest and not. If they knew something he wanted to learn, he found a way to convince them to teach him. Martial arts, street fighting, street chemistry, stage makeup, costuming, how to imitate accents all over the world, surveillance, theft, breaking and entering, searching and even blackmail. He learned every dirty criminal art there was. Then he turned around and learned the flip-side. Every method of countering those things the authorities used. How they succeeded and failed. He even found a teacher for electronic eavesdropping and more. A Cracker that finally had a crisis of conscience. He passed on all that knowledge and disappeared. It was assumed he went to some remote place and intended to live off-grid.
Daryl returned late one night to his grandmother's house. His whole demeanor had changed. He now had an intensity to him. Only it was not 'him'. It was Dara that had come back. The simple skirt, top and mid heels did not look out of place. In fact, Evelyn almost fainted, thinking Dana had come back from the dead. Quickly she came to her senses and ushered her grandchild inside. She listened until dawn. Dara laid out the entire plan down to the last critical detail.
She looked over to the radio.
"What's that song?" Dara asked.
Evelyn listened. "I believe that's Leonard Cohen. I can't remember the title though."
Dara went over to the computer and entered the lyrics. Leonard Cohen's Everybody Knows. She found it easily enough and listened intently. It struck deep to the heart. It described exactly how she felt. The town would never be the same when all was said and done. This wasn't simple revenge anymore. This was going to be 'scorched earth'. Daryl worked secretly for two months to get all pieces and preparations in place. He had found out more before returning. He now knew exactly how deep things went.
The police were easy to get out of the way. The officers that would actively protect the corrupt families had their bonding revoked. Without bonding, they had to be suspended without pay. The District Attorney found himself in front of the State Attorney General having to explain over two-hundred cases that suddenly come up for administrative review. All at the same time. His problem, many of those cases had been influenced. Too many to just ignore or marginalize as an overworked legal system. That was when the other shoe dropped. The State Bar Association had received the same information. They had better resources at their command than the A.G. No sooner than the D.A. started the review, he was informed his license to practice was now under review as well, therefore frozen. He could only review with the A.G. and nothing more.
Legal muscle now out of the way for the duration. Daryl went into local action. He hacked the computers of all involved in his rape and found the videos of it. Now unedited, he set up a file to store it in, as well as the full identities of each one. They could not hide or deny their involvement anymore. Now for the mind games to begin.
Dara began making appearances around town. People around Destynee noticed the pretty blonde looking at her intently from a distance. When she turned to look, the girl was gone. For days that went on. Then she finally caught a glimpse and tried to look better; only for the girl to disappear again.
Destynee asked her best friend, Fallon. "Hey. Have you seen some blonde girl around?"
Fallon nodded. "Yeah. People say that there's a blonde girl staring at me, but when I look, nobody's there."
"I saw her for a second." Destynee said.
They were sitting at a table in the mall talking about it, then Fallon paled. "Oh my god! There she is."
Destynee turned around and saw her too. A pretty blonde wearing a blue denim skirt, white tank-shirt and white mid-heel shoes. Suddenly, she noticed the sunglasses. Pink mirrored lenses in a white frame, the sporting wrap-around style. Only one girl they knew of wore sunglasses like that, but she was supposed to be dead. A group of people passed in front of her and she was gone. They looked around, but she was nowhere to be found.
"Dez. Did that look like?" Fallon started to ask.
Destynee shook her head. "Can't be. The little bitch killed herself. And even if she hadn't, the guys nailed her in the face with acid. No way could it have been her."
Fallon's phone rang. She went to answer and stared in horror at it.
"What?" Destynee asked.
Fallon turned the phone around and showed the display: Dana T. It even showed a picture, very much like the girl they had just seen.
Destynee grabbed it and answered. "Who is this?"
"Don't. That hurts. It hurts. Why does it hurt Dez? What's happening to me Dez? Fallon? What's happening Fallon?" A voice from the past asked.
Fallon had been able to hear as well. Both were looking at the phone in stunned silence. The past had come back. They both knew that voice. Had heard those questions. The voice didn't stop.
"Who are you guys? Don't hit me. No. I don't know what you mean? What did you pour on me? My face is burning! It hurts, it's burning! Don't kick me! Please stop! Please stop!" The voice pleaded then the call disconnected.
"Oh Yeah? Try this shit!" Destynee spat and hit the return-dial then stared in horror as her own phone began to ring and show Dana's picture on the display.
Fallon grabbed it and answered for her. "This isn't funny!"
They both looked at each other in shock. The return-dial had been directed to Destynee's phone, but gave Dana's name and picture as the ID. When they checked, the call to Fallon's phone had originated from Destynee's and the return-dial showed Fallon.
"Come ON!" Destynee ordered.
They grabbed their purses and left the table. Several times they saw the girl at a distance as they went around the mall. Finally they left, only to find the tires were flat on Destynee's car. She tried to call home for help, but her phone was no longer active. Fallon tried as well, but had the same result. Their phone service had been turned off. Destynee threw her phone to the pavement in anger.
"DAMNIT! Somebody's playing games with us!" Destynee shouted.
A woman passing by let them use her phone. Unfortunately the call home, didn't go there. Instead, they were informed the number was disconnected. She called a friend she just happened to remember the number of and begged her to come get them. They were dropped off at her house and she went inside.
Destynee's father looked up at the ruckus the two were making. "What's your problem?"
Destynee snapped. "All my tires are flat, my goddamned phone got cut off and the fucking house number is disconnected!"
He picked up the cordless handset. The dial-tone was clearly heard. He dialed her phone and to the girls horror; a ringing was heard in another room.
"You left your phone here, so what are you talking about?" He asked.
Destynee and Fallon went into the kitchen and saw the phone in question on the counter, showing a missed call. From home, just moments ago.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Destynee demanded.
Her father came in and glared. "Alright! What's going on?"
Destynee was about to say then caught herself. "I DON'T KNOW!"
"Uh-huh." He replied, staring at her intently.
Destynee knew he wasn't buying it. However, she had to keep her mouth shut. Her father would have no qualms over turning her over to the police for her involvement in any crimes. He'd been car-jacked once and been shot in the process. He absolutely hated criminals. He hated people that helped criminals just as much. To find out what she had done, and especially why; he'd lock her cell door personally and melt the key in front of her.
Destynee grabbed Fallon's wrist and pulled her to follow upstairs. In her room she made a call.
"David!" Destynee snarled when he answered.
David Mullen huffed. "What is it Destynee?"
"You said Dana killed herself. You hit her in the face with acid. She's dead. Right?" Destynee demanded.
David sounded bored. "Yeah and the freaky-fag brother is locked up in a nuthouse. Total Veg-out."
"You sure about that?" Destynee asked.
David huffed. "My cousin, Christine, is a psychiatrist. She did the transfers herself. Hell, even their bitch mom is locked up. What's your deal?"
Destynee insisted. "Yeah, well somebody is running around loose!"
She recounted what had been going on. He listened and sputtered. David jeered at her for making things up or confusing herself and over-reacting. They began to argue the point back and forth. Finally David hung up on her. His phone immediately rang again, but was someone else.
"What is it Mike?" David asked.
Mike said angrily. "LOOK AT YOUR FUCKING FACEBOOK PAGE!"
David went over to his computer and brought it up. A video was posted. He clicked on it and saw a video of himself drugging a drink and talking about it. It was very clear what he was doing and why. The drink was being spiked with Rohypnol and was going to be given to a girl. The girl was alleged to be virgin. He and several other boys drew lot as to who would have her first. It would be Mike.
"YOU ASSHOLE!" Mike swore over the phone
David couldn't believe it and protested. "No way!"
"WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?" Mike demanded.
David protested. "I didn't do this! I don't even have any videos!"
He checked in folders and was shocked into silence. Every video of every rape they had committed was there. Almost a hundred of them.
"NO NO NO! I SWEAR I DIDN'T POST IT!" David screamed into the phone.
Every single one of them was tagged in it. His phone started indicating other calls coming in, and from who. The rest of the boys tagged in the video. The video was posted on his page, using his account and apparently; from his own computer. He tried to go in and delete the post, but the password was changed.
"Mike! My account's been hacked! I can't take it down!" David said in frustration then realized it was worse than they thought. "FUCK! IT'S ON ALL MY PAGES! Twitter, Instagram, EVERYTHING! FUCK!"
The house phone rang and he looked at it in fear. It stopped ringing. Someone had answered it. Slowly he picked it up and listened.
"Hi Sophia." His mother greeted.
The woman on the other end spat. "Don't you 'Hi Sophia' me, Julia! That little bastard of yours needs to be hanged!"
"WHAT?" Julia squawked.
"I just saw a video of him and his gang drugging my niece and raping her! She was only fourteen! A virgin, Julia! We had to put her in a clinic for depression!" Sophia yelled. "Your sick little deviant posted it on MY Twitter page!"
Julia went over to her computer and pulled up her best friend's page. A video had been posted half an hour ago. She clicked and slowly became sickened. Her own son and his friends drugged a drink, gave it to Sophia's niece. It took effect fast. They drew lot and David started unzipping his pants, laughing. The drugged girl was dimly aware of what was happening and tried to protest. When David finished and tagged another boy, she almost vomited. The words she heard him utter dashed that feeling and sent her into a fury. She bolted from the chair and stormed up to his room and threw the door open.
"HOW IN THE HELL COULD YOU BE MY SON? YOU FILTHY, SICK, DISEASED." Julia screamed then slapped him. His phone rang again and she snatched it up after seeing the caller. "HOW DARE YOU ALL! I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"
David tore the phone from her hand and slapped her. "You won't! You, Dad and all your friends'll be ruined! Make it go away!"
"I have a BETTER idea!" His father's voice called from the doorway.
David looked at him. "Make it go AWAY!"
Two State Police officers came into the room.
"David Mullen. You are under arrest. Possession of controlled substance, distributing a controlled substance, statutory rape, accessory to statutory rape, conspiracy to statutory rape, obstructing justice, production, distribution and possession of child pornography" One informed him while the other cuffed him.
David's father snarled. "Lock his ass up!"
David realized now, that he was not getting out of his situation and began to struggle all the way to the cruiser.
Destynee opened her bedroom door and was faced by a male and female State Police officer. Destynee and Fallon were promptly arrested. After being processed, they were shown to separate cells. They had seen all of the boys being processed. The next morning they were arraigned and transferred to the county's facility. Or so they thought. When the transport van's doors opened. Both girls knew they were in very bad trouble. They were in a warehouse. They also weren't alone.
One of the transport guards chuckled as he said in a Latin accent. "Show a good time, maybe we take you somewhere not a prison."
The girls looked and tried to count the men. They went into double-digits fast, so stopped.
"Desnudar, chicas." The other 'guard' said then repeated in English. "Strip."
Fallon whimpered and began to undress. Destynee slowly began to do the same. Men came forward unzipping their pants. What both girls saw almost made their minds shatter. The men's penises were deformed and covered with bumps or lesions and some were dripping a colored discharge. Both now knew, they were not only being forced to have sex, they were also going to be infected with more than one sexual disease. The men took them and not just one by one. They began to go in multiples, forcing the girls to do more than vaginal. For over three hours the girls were used. They were allowed to redress, taken to a point in town and dropped off. Police units were on them within minutes. They had now been deemed as escapees and therefore held under higher security.
The boys were fairing no better. Word spread fast that they were child-rapists and had even posted videos of their rape-parties online. There was one factor inconsistent with the truth. It was being said that their victims were not teen girls, but prepubescent boys. Boys of a certain ethnicity; African-American. Their first night in County was anything but calm, quiet or gentle. In fact it was loud, brutal and didn't stop until almost dawn. All of them had to be taken to the security wing of the hospital. Their situation didn't improve. Under sedation they were relocated. For several days. When they managed to leave the warehouse they were being kept in, State police were on them immediately. It seemed that Mike's father, who had been very good friends with the District Attorney, had moved his boat to the docks five minutes away. It was stocked with enough supplies for ten people to consume for three weeks, full fuel tanks and very convincing fake passports.
At their trial a week later, they had been deemed extreme flight risk prisoners and would be held in the State's maximum security facility. That night; two managed suicide, one attempted unsuccessfully and another managed to provoke one of the most violent on the cell-block into murdering him in anger.
Two weeks later, the unthinkable happened. They had all escaped again. The remaining boys and both girls were unaccounted for. they were very nervous for quite a while, then started to relax. The boys were uncaring now of the diseases the girls were infected with and had repeated sex with them. They assumed they were in the place for only four days. They were wrong. Police announced themselves outside. One of the boxes they had access to contained guns. Guns they quickly put to use. Unfortunately for them, the ammunition was actually Simunition. Harmless rounds that marked hits with paint. It had only infuriated the police even more, and those officers were anything but good-natured.
All the escapees ended up in the hospital, heavily guarded. The strange part was, the day they were all being taken back to their prisons, each awoken to find short lengths of roughly cut black string tied to their wrists and ankles. As the two prison vans were turning out of the parking lot onto the road. A girl walking down the opposite side of the street took off a large sunhat to reveal long blonde hair and wearing mirrored sunglasses with pink lenses. As they looked at her through the window, she smirked and wiggled her fingers at them. Puppets on strings. It sent Fallon over the edge along with two of the boys.
Evelyn watched the realtor drive away after handing him the keys to her house. The movers had already left with all her things. Her grandson walked out of the house and pulled the door closed, locking it. He wore cycling shorts, jersey and shoes. He rolled his bike out of the garage. It had saddlebags that bulged and his helmet hung on the handlebars.
"That's that. What now?" Evelyn asked.
Daryl sighed. "We can't stay here Gram. I got you a house down in Florida. It's a retirement community. You'll be able to make friends there. You won't be lonely."
"Adam and Carol?" Evelyn asked.
"Already in long-term care facilities there. You won't have any problems seeing them and they will be taken care of." Daryl stated.
Evelyn nodded with relief but asked. "You said that psychiatrist was in with them. What about her?"
"Yeah. About her. It seems that she got caught having an affair with a patient under another psychiatrist's care. Her license got revoked. That and dummying up prescriptions for her cousin for narcotics. She got into a good amount of trouble." Daryl informed her.
"I see." Evelyn sighed. "What about that girl, the one that told you everything?"
Daryl's eyes became glassy as he said. "I gave her Dana's bike. Dana would have wanted her to have it."
"You never did tell me why you tied strings on them. Why Daryl?" Evelyn asked.
Daryl shrugged. "One of my mentors was a marionettist as well. To learn what he knew; I had to learn that too and help out in his theater. He liked that I wanted to get revenge. He told me that getting them wasn't enough. That I wouldn't be satisfied, until I had them all dancing on the ends of my strings."
Evelyn thought about that. "Quite the image."
"Yeah. He was right too. If hadn't done all I did, I wouldn't have been satisfied." Daryl admitted.
Evelyn asked. "So you are done with them?"
Daryl smiled. "They can die whenever they want to now. They won't get out and have pissed off so many people, nobody'll help. Dana can rest in peace now. I can if I want to."
"What will you do? Where will you go?" Evelyn asked as they hugged.
Daryl mounted his bike and put on the helmet and sunglasses. "I can work on bikes, even build them. As for where; I'm not sure Gram. There's a place I can disappear into. I just need to find it. I thought I'd do the old cliche first."
Evelyn chuckled. "Oh? Run for Mexico?"
"No Ma'am. Ride off into the sunset!" Daryl laughed then pushed off. "I'll be in touch."
Evelyn watched him ride away and sighed. "No sweet child, you won't. I'd be very surprised if you actually did. Please find peace. That's what your sister would have wanted most."
Four months later, Daryl passed a road sign.
Port Klasten
one mile
"Port Klasten." Daryl said to himself. "I hear you're a good place to be nobody in. The perfect place; to disappear."
He rode into the city and found a cheap room. The next day, Daryl paid a month's rent on an old machine shop on the Southern edge of town and set up residency. A month later D's Wheels opened and a pleasant looking guy stood in the door. People soon learned the new shop owner was very good when it came to bikes. He could even make custom tailored to the individual. Especially Road Racing bikes, those were where he truly shined. Several of the city's bicycle courier agencies' began referring their riders to him and he never let them down. Such became his day to day. Work on bikes. Build bikes. Sell bikes. He even found time to compete at regional events and did well.
That all changed one evening as he closed his shop. A man and a woman were walking by. A car slowed down and the stopped. A man in suit got out, walked up and stabbed the man. In seconds he was dead. The woman was in hysterics and quickly struck down. The killer looked over at Daryl and saw the strangest thing. Daryl glared then pointed at him, the car and a direction. As if ordering him to leave. Then Daryl started toward the woman. He gathered her up and walked her back to his shop. The suited killer got into the car and left.
Daryl called the local police. He wasn't very helpful to them. When they were alone, the woman asked why.
"There's more to this story lady. Why'd he really get killed?" Daryl asked her intently.
The woman choked then confessed. "He was a pilot and had his own charter jet. He wouldn't smuggle for them. He went to the DEA. He had no proof though, so they wouldn't protect him. Why do they get away with doing whatever they want? To whomever? Why won't somebody stop them?"
"You want justice, or revenge?" Daryl asked.
The woman understood immediately what he was offering and answered. "Revenge!"
Daryl stood directly in front of her. "It won't come cheap."
She nodded and said the words that changed things forever. "I'll pay!"
Here and there. People reached out for help, to be answered by Daryl. Word began to circulate about a strange new Revenge-broker. Bits of black string were being found on people that claimed to be set up, but had done horrible things. The worst of the worst. A crime-scene tech commented the strings were similar to those used on puppets and earned a moniker; The Puppeteer. Only one actual detective had interest in this mystery-player. He refused never say why he was so angry at this Puppeteer.
One thing was certain. Nobody could really pin down who the Puppeteer was. Conflicting reports denied identification. In fact, there were so many contrary stories; they didn't even have a real suspect.
Daryl put aside the remembrance as he set the small birthday cake on the kitchen table, opposite was the small framed photo.
"Happy birthday to us, sis." Daryl said then sang softly. "Everybody; knows."
To be continued....
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Gerald Darnell stared at his screen in stunned silence. It would have taken someone else weeks to see this, but it was very clear. He was shifting funds away from the company into an offshore account, in small amounts. Small, but frequent. Over a good bit of time as well. Over three-hundred thousand dollars at the moment had been moved. Embezzled. That was the more appropriate term. He would not only be fired, he would also be prosecuted and sent to prison. Not jail, prison. The Federal kind.
As fast as he could, Gerald began tracking backwards. It continued to go back to him. Rather, his terminal. Then one stamp stood out. It was the day of his wedding anniversary. He had even asked to leave an hour early that day and did. The stamp was five minutes after his usual time for leaving the office. He went back looked at all of them. They were almost all the same. At, or just after, the time he usually clocked out for the day. He shut down his terminal and went down to the personnel office. He checked his time cards. They were consistent with his habits, but it wouldn't really mean anything. It could be said that he clocked out and went back.
In the hallway he hissed to himself. "I'm being set up! Who? And why me?"
All the way back to his office he wracked his brain, trying to figure out who would want him out of the way. Did they want money and he was just a fall-guy? Did they want his job? Was it somebody pissed-off that he had given them a review they felt wasn't what they deserved? Each one drew a blank. On the way home he stopped in a bar and saw his old friend, a barber.
"Ger. How's it going?" His friend asked.
Gerald shook his head and sighed. "Not good. Ted, somebody is messing around with company money. Stealing it."
Ted frowned. "Not good, bud. Do the right thing, man, report them to the bosses."
"I can't." Gerald said and sipped his beer. "They've made it look like it was me."
Ted winced. "Oh man! That's not good at all."
"Whoever it is, they're good. They know exactly how things work. I mean in detail. They know the in's and out's of everything. It's only a matter of time before it gets attention or I get ratted out to be the fall-guy. I'm so screwed. I'll end up in prison." Gerald said heavily.
Ted glanced around then said quietly. "Remember last year; I had that problem with those guys trying to use my shop as front? They wanted to hang out and sell dope?"
"Yeah. They even beat you up and a couple of your regulars, too. What about it? Thought that was over with." Gerald said.
Ted nodded. "It is. I just never told you how."
Gerald looked at him, puzzled.
"I, uh, I hired somebody to take care of it." Ted admitted.
Gerald was now thinking. "What, some tough-guys or something?"
"Or something." Ted said. "A revenge-broker."
That startled Gerald. He'd heard rumors of such people. "Whoa! Those guys are really dangerous, Ted. Maybe even worse than the problem."
"Oh this one was dangerous alright. For them. Those guys not only got busted, they caught hell in jail. Word has it, they were named as informers. Not good to be one of those in lock-up." Ted nodded firmly. "Know what I mean?"
"Right about that. What's all that got to do with me?" Gerald asked.
Ted looked around then continued. "Maybe YOU could hire them? Figure out who's doing all this to you and fix it? Get it now?"
Gerald sighed and looked deep into his glass of beer. "I don't know Ted. I hear these guys are expensive. Some are even crazy."
"Look; it's your situation. But if it's how you said it was, it won't be long and you're left holding a bag, with nothing in it but blame." Ted said then pulled a business card from a hidden pocket of his wallet.
Gerald watched as Ted had him hold it out of sight then used his cigarette lighter to warm it from underneath. The card's appearance shifted. It changed from blue to black and instead of some restaurant's logo and information, in red lettering, an email address appeared. Gerald stared in amazement. He'd heard people talk about secret business cards for mysterious people. Here, in his hand, was one of those cards.
"This guy, I'll never forget his name, was César Echagüe. Latino, well groomed and dressed high-end. He talked like he was really cultured. Easy-going. I never actually saw him do anything, just the results of what he did. I'll be honest; at first, I thought I had gotten the wrong guy. I hadn't. He took care of the problem. He seemed to think his price was reasonable. I guess I did too, I didn't argue and paid it." Ted said frankly.
Gerald was now looking at the card intently. He was rethinking his previous opinion. He trusted Ted, they had met in high school and been best friends ever since. If Ted said the guy was ok, he had to be.
"Ok. I'll do it. I'll meet with him." Gerald said.
Two nights later, he went into a jazz club and sat down. The instructions had been simple. Go to a club called Tribulations, sit at a table near the stage and order a glass of Raveneau Chablis Grand Cru with whatever he drank. When the waitress came, he did exactly that, with a bourbon and coke for himself. The waitress returned, placed the drinks down and left, without asking him for any money. He watched her go and wanted to stop her, but movement caught his attention and he turned to look. A stunning woman in a blue sequin club-dress standing in front of him.
"Bonne soirée, Monsieur Darnell." The young woman said in a heavy French accent then gestured to the empty chair. "Since you have already ordered my drink, shall I join you now?"
Gerald was off-guard, but stood up anyway, as he always did when approached by a woman. He had expected a Latino gentleman, but was now facing an elegant French woman. His wife would skin him alive if she caught wind of this and got the wrong impression. He was past the point of no-return now though.
"Uh. See voo play?" Gerald struggled and gestured to the chair.
The woman smiled and took the seat. "I speak English very well Monsieur Darnell."
Gerald sat down. "Sorry. I never learned French. I just know hello, goodbye, thank you and I think I managed to say 'please'. That's all I can come up with. Miss?"
"Marguerite St.Just. Please, call me Marguerite." Marguerite replied with a smile and mega-watts of charm.
Gerald actually felt himself blush. "Gerald, please. I have to admit, this is really surprising. I thought I was meeting someone else."
"Ah." Marguerite said, now understanding. "These things can become very complicated Gerald. Please believe that you are meeting who you should be and that I can help you. That being said, this must be also. What you ask for, does not come free. There is a fee for such service and it must be paid in a timely manner. You understand this, oui?"
Gerald nodded. "I understand."
Marguerite patted his hand gently then sipped her wine. "Bonne. Now, you say there is someone from your work that is stealing money and it is being made to appear as the one doing the stealing, is you. Non?"
"Yes Ma'am, er, Marguerite. I'm being set up to be the fall-guy. I don't know who or why. It won't be much longer, the higher-ups are going to figure money is gone and I'll be the one holding the bag." Gerald said.
"Very bad for you." Marguerite commented.
Gerald sighed. "I don't have a lot of cash. I do have stocks I can sell. I think about forty-thousand, but I'll have to pay a penalty which means."
"Oui, you will not receive that amount. Fortune does smile on you a little. To resolve your problem will only cost you twenty-thousand. You will not be taken for all you have Gerald. It does not work that way. When all is done, all will be done. The only part you must worry over, is paying that amount by the agreed time." Marguerite said reassuringly.
Gerald began to relax now. "I can have it by next Thursday. Is that ok?"
Marguerite smiled again. "Indubitablement! In fact, I was going to suggest next Friday."
"Friday works better. Cash?" Gerald asked.
"Gerald! To carry that much money around, invites danger, non? It would be much easier to transfer it electronically to an account I will provide you the number of. Much better, non?" Marguerite asked then added. "Of course, it must come from your personal account. I am sure your financial adviser would be able to accommodate that."
Gerald thought about that and nodded. It was a good idea. There would be no questions about that, even if someone caught wind he was up to something, there would be no argument that it was actually his money being used.
"We now have contrat, oui? A deal?" Marguerite asked and offered her hand.
Gerald gently shook her hand and nodded. "Yes. We have a deal. Please help me Marguerite. I'll pay."
Marguerite stood up, taking her glass. "Laisse moi ça, Gerald. I will look after you. Bonne nuit."
Gerald watched her walk away. He had to resist the urge to just sit there slack-jawed. The woman was all grace and elegance as she made her way out. He even felt a slight stirring in his pants. Now all he had to do was pray she could do what she promised and that he wouldn't fantasize about her in his sleep and say anything.
Dara walked into the dimly lit room and turned on the computer system. As she sat down and begin to type, a song began to play.
She began to sing along softly. "That's how it goes. Everybody knows."
Chester Beirman preferred to be called Chet. That wasn't all he preferred. Working, wasn't one of those things. He only worked for the company because his father demanded he work somewhere. After a month of not getting a job, he had him hired and put to work in the Accounting department. He hated it. None of the women were single, nor were they pretty. By his standards, of course. He tried to bully his way into Personnel, but an old man ran it and they had no positions vacant. It only got him an ass-chewing from his father. He had tried to stay at college longer, but his father put his foot down at the end of his fourth year. Graduate or be cut off. He graduated with an associate's degree in Business.
One thing he had liked learning, was how money moved around. He was good at that. In fact, it became a hobby during class. Seeing how much of the theoretical money he could divert before the Professor caught on. One of his classmates ended up trying to do the same, they both were caught and ended up being friends. They soon started working together as opponents. Each trying to find ways to steal that the other couldn't catch. Eventually, they learned how. Now he was doing it for real. The best part, his supervisor would catch all the blame.
Chet chuckled to himself as he checked the balance of the offshore account with his phone. "Two more weeks and I'll blow the whistle on your ass Gerald. I'll have them give me YOUR job as a reward. Too bad I just won't be able to find exactly where you hid the money."
Chet smiled at that. As the supervisor, he'd need a secretary. Not that ugly cow Francine that Gerald has. Nope; he'd get a cute, young and not bright girl. Smart enough to do what he'd tell her, and be on the pill, but not so smart he'd have to be careful around her. The picture on the wall acted somewhat like a mirror. He could see Gerald in his office when the door was open, which was almost always. He only closed it when someone asked to talk privately or one of the higher-ups went in. They closed the door, he didn't care. Gerald was one of those 'if it affects the company, everybody should know' types.
Chet saw someone going into Gerald's office. It was a guy, one he'd never seen before, so he didn't care.
Gerald looked up at the knock. "Yes?"
"Mister Darnell? I'm Ryan. I was called in to service the computers here in your department. Won't take long. You're all about to take lunch, right?" Ryan asked then handed him a clipboard.
Gerald looked at the documents. They were work orders, signed by the Vice President of Operations. Gerald knew his handwriting without a doubt. At that moment, his phone rang so he answered it.
"Accounting." Gerald stated.
The voice on the other end was unmistakable. "Gerald. It's me."
"Yes Sir Mister Golson." Gerald replied, acknowledging the VP of Operations.
Pat didn't mince words. "We finally got in a tech to perform the updates on all your terminals. Send everybody to lunch at the same time so he can get that done. I was told he only needs an hour to do it, get him set and get out of his way."
Gerald didn't need to be told twice. "No problem Mister Golson. He's here now and everybody is about to go in three minutes."
"Good. Have a nice lunch Gerald." Pat said then hung up.
"Yeah, that clears everything up alright. Go ahead and do your thing." Gerald said then grabbed his suit jacket, walked out the main area and whistled. "Get a stopping point. Two minutes and go to lunch, full hour today."
Everyone did as he instructed and made their way out. Gerald looked over as Ryan was already working on his terminal. "I guess you got it."
"No Sweat. I'll be gone by the time everybody is back." Ryan said holding some handheld unit, but using the terminal's keyboard.
An hour later, Gerald watched the last person come back in. That brat, Chet. Gerald didn't like the guy, he had an attitude and it slipped out a good bit. Gerald went back to his office and sat down. It was real easy to see what the Tech, Ryan, had done. Things were moving faster and looked better. That was good. He wondered what was going on with Marguerite though. He had yet to hear from her, though it was only Monday.
Daryl parked the car in the garage and got out. It only took a few seconds to pull the magnetic signs off for the IT service. He put them away, along with the clothes and other gear for 'Ryan'. He rode back to his bike shop and finished out the afternoon then rode home.
After a shower and dinner, Daryl went down into the secret room. The computer system had been running for quite a while. Daryl brought up search parameters and ran them. He saw what Gerald had seen. Someone had indeed been siphoning off money in small amounts then diverting to an offshore account. That account was numbered and therefore anonymous. Able to be accessed by anyone with the correct codes. Daryl frowned. The last noted diversion had been Friday. He would have to wait until it was done so again, then he would have information he could act on.
One thing for certain, it was someone within Gerald's working group that was doing the dirty work. Daryl began looking into everyone. Two stood out. One was a long-time employee, the other was a recent hire.
Daryl looked at the two and mused aloud. "One that's been there forever, one that just came on. Let's dig deeper on you two."
It didn't take long to discount the long-time employee. He had been investing heavily into the company ever since they offered that option. All things pointed to him being a serious protector of the company. He not only bought stocks for himself, he also bought for his wife and children. The purchases were deducted directly from wages and had been for years. In fact, there was even a note that the man had only used sick leave once in fifteen years and returned the next day; against doctor's advisement.
"Hardcore. You wouldn't hurt that company no matter what. You love it too much." Daryl remarked then began digging deeper into the other candidate.
"Chester, Chester. What is there about you?" Daryl asked the screens as information came up.
The more he read, the more he wanted to look for and commented. "This guy reads like a resume for Assholes 'R Us."
Everything from Middle school on to present screamed the guy was egotistical, self-serving and over-indulged. Teacher and school adviser comments all read the same. College showed worse. Chester demanded to be the center of the universe and expected everyone to cater to him. Complaints had come from all directions. Faculty, staff, other students; pretty much anyone he came into contact with more than once.
"Sexual harassment. Authority issues. Money mismanagement. Immaturity. Lack of direction. What's the matter, Chester, nobody wants to just give you blank checks and let you screw to your heart's content?" Daryl asked. "How'd you ever get hired?"
He went back and looked at the personnel file again then rolled his eyes. "Figures. Daddy is a V.P. I should have caught that right off the bat. He must be forcing you to work, thinking it'll make you Man-up. That's optimistic to the point of dumb. Admit it Chester, you aren't about to grow up for anybody."
Daryl liked Chester for the embezzling, but he needed more before he did anything. The one thing he hated more than people like Chester, was making a mistake. Mistakes were killers in the business, in that they could get the wrong person killed. He would take no chances and wait for more information to come in. The nails were ready, all he needed was someone to hand him a hammer and show the coffin.
Daryl was at the bike shop, working on a mountain bike when the alert came over his laptop. He set his tools back in the box and went over to look. Sure enough, money had been diverted into a hold account. Daryl then attached his tracker into that account. the next time it was accessed, it would trace back through the system to the actual terminal and he'd have them. That was the magic of keystroke loggers. It wasn't just software, it was also hardware and therefore no way to confuse it or counter with any scanning programs.
At Four that afternoon Daryl set everything aside and began watching his laptop. Thirty minutes later, what he had been waiting for started to show. Someone at a terminal was entering redirection coding. Camouflage. He pinged the terminal then brought up the camera he had placed in the office. None of the terminals had a camera so he had to place one. Daryl wanted to roll his eyes. It was Chester, as he'd suspected. He activated the tracker now attached to the money that had been pooled. A moment later, it went through Gerald's terminal and transferred to the offshore account. Daryl waited and received a pop-up with the routing and account number. Daryl looked at the camera and smiled. Chester was using his phone to check the account. Daryl grabbed the number and hacked in. He now had GPS for everywhere the phone went, networks it registered and everything downloaded and uploaded. Dating sites, porn, clubs, music and videos. Daryl had almost all of it now.
"Time for your string of cleverness to be cut." Dara said.
Chet stood at the bar, trying to work the blonde beside him. He had been talking her up for ten minutes. If he could touch her, he could kiss her and if he could get a kiss, then getting her into bed wouldn't be much more of a challenge. Being bumped, interrupted him.
"Hey!" Chet turned around and received a bored look from a slightly built man, similar to his own age, but better dressed.
The man gave him an intense look. "You have problem?"
Chet took note of the Russian accent and knew immediately to check himself. The Russians in the area weren't regular people. They were all in one Mafia or another.
"No. No problem." Chet replied and tried to refocus on the girl.
The Russian moved on after a few minutes. Chet relaxed. Real criminals made him nervous and the local Russians were very real criminals. The girl's phone caught her attention. She excused herself to the ladies' room. Chet waited then came to the obvious conclusion that she had moved on. Looking around better confirmed she wasn't even in sight. He decided to call it a night and went to his apartment.
Daryl had to laugh when he got outside the club. Chester had no idea that his phone had been lifted from his pocket and returned. Daryl hadn't needed to keep it. Just borrow it long enough to clone it. Now he had an exact duplicate of Chester's phone. Anything and everything Chester did, Daryl would see and know. He would also be able to interfere or even reverse. Once Chester logged into things, Daryl would have those passwords on the clone as well. Things like banking information. Since he was already dressed well, Daryl stopped off for a late dessert.
Gerald sighed Friday afternoon. Two more transactions had happened. At lunch he had went to his broker and authorized the transfer from the sale of a good portion of his portfolio. He'd had to pay a penalty, but hoped it would be worth it. He had just stood up and about to put on his jacket to leave for the day when his phone buzzed.
He answered it. "Accounting."
"Gerald. It's Brad Weller, could you come up to my office?" The C.E.O asked.
Gerald's heart froze, but knew there was only one answer. "Yes, sir. On my way right now."
He took the elevator up the two floors and went down the hall to the last door. Inside, the secretary buzzed him.
"Go right in." She said.
Gerald went in and saw three people he really didn't want to. Brad Weller, the company's C.E.O. Ellen Chisholm, the Vice-President. Winston Beirman, Vice-President of Distribution.
Brad waved him over to a table that had several sheets laid out. "Gerald, come in. We need your help sorting something out."
"Yes sir." Gerald nodded and went over.
Gerald began looking the pages over and realized what he was looking at. It was the theft of money. The very theft he was hoping would be sorted out before the very people he was in the room with, found out.
"This looks very bad sir." Gerald said.
Brad nodded. "Exactly. Somebody in your department has been embezzling and trying to frame you for it."
It took a second then hit. They knew it wasn't him.
Ellen sorted through and pulled a page and tapped it. "The money was returned last night. It was shifted into a very old account that hasn't been used in ten years. If we hadn't been notified, we wouldn't even know it had been done."
Gerald looked at the information. "Four-hundred, twenty-nine thousand, six-hundred and eighty-one dollars?"
A pinging sound was heard and Brad went over to his computer then printed up a page and came back.
"Another four-thousand and change just went out and came back." Brad said as he handed the page over.
Gerald sighed. "Please forgive me. I found out, but didn't know what to do. I'm sorry. I didn't think you would believe me if I told the truth."
Winston shook his head. "We probably wouldn't have. We know who is responsible. Please have a seat over there."
Gerald sat off to the side, partially hidden. The secretary buzzed again and the door opened. Chester Beirman swaggered in, looking straight at the group of executives.
"Chester. We have something that needs to be discussed about the Accounting department." Winston said.
Chester smirked. Seemed like things happened without him needing to push.
"Know who I am?" A man asked.
Chester shrugged, he didn't know. To be honest, he didn't care.
Brad introduced himself. "I'm the C.E.O. that means I AM the boss. Look at this."
Chet took the page he was handed and read. To his horror it was a transcript from his terminal.
"That is code. It pulls small amounts of money from transactions and diverts them into a side account. That money is then transferred to an account in the Bahamas. An account that traced back to being accessed by your phone. All of this was camouflaged to look like it was originating from Gerald Darnell's terminal. The problem with that is, the timestamps all show consecutively that he was not at his terminal when the commands were given. Commands that were input from YOUR terminal." Brad stated.
Chet looked shocked. How did they know? How did they find out? His plan was perfect and the code would delete itself after execution.
"That old fart is lying!" Chet tried to counter.
Ellen arched an eyebrow. "How could he, we haven't spoken to him yet. All the proof is right there in front of you. It was fairly easy to recover the money. We just wanted to see how long you would go before you ran off or tried the frame up. I got bored waiting."
Chet couldn't believe it, until she showed him the transfer print out. The money, including the one from only a few minutes ago, was all back in a company account. It even showed where it had come from.
"NO WAY! You couldn't get access to my account!" Chet blurted out then realized he hung himself.
Winston sighed. "Now even I can't help you."
Two police officers came in from a side room and began to arrest him. Chet couldn't believe it. Not only had he been caught, they had the money back and acted like it was nothing out of routine. Now he was being arrested.
"Dad. I didn't mean it. I won't do it again." Chet said quickly.
Winston shook his head. "I gave you every chance. You have chosen to be everything your mother and I tried to raise you not to be. You have chosen to be a criminal. You will be treat as such. You chose this on your own, so on your own you will be. We will not help you in any way, shape or form."
Chet was taken out.
Winston sighed. "I need to speak with my wife and attorney. Chester is beyond our help. Gerald, you have my apologies."
"I'll take care of the money." Ellen said, taking three printouts as she left.
"You drink Gerald?" Brad asked
Gerald nodded. "Yes, sir. I could really do with one right now."
Brad poured for them both then handed a glass. "Hope you like Scotch."
Gerald sipped and felt it but shook his head. "It's fine Mister Weller."
Brad leaned back against the table and sipped. "Who helped us?"
Gerald's eyes popped.
"Things cleared up too neat and tidy. I've been doing the C.E.O thing for a while. This is the first time I worked in Port Klasten. I hear strange things go on. Things like this. We got too much smoking gun to be chance. Plus, there was the way we got it. Something got Ellen's attention and she barely had to tug on it for everything to come unraveled. That kid thought he had things all sewn up. I saw it in his eyes when we dropped the bomb. He was utterly convinced he'd come out clean." Brad smirked then shook his head. "Winston almost resigned. He knew there was no arguing it."
"I. I'm sorry Mister Weller. I don't know anything. Should I resign?" Gerald asked.
Brad shook his head. "Gerald, you're a good guy. You care about this company. It's family to you. Don't resign. I need people like you here."
Gerald nodded. "Yes, sir."
"If there is a next time; come to me first. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Brad said then pointed to the drink. "finish that and go home. Get drunk there. See you Monday."
"Thank you, Mister Weller." Gerald said then drained the last of his drink and left.
Instead of going straight home, he intended to stop at the bar to meet Ted. His phone chimed with a message though. The message was quite short.
Come to the park, the fountain.
Gerald approached the fountain and saw who he was supposed to meet, sitting on the edge of it.
"Hello Marguerite." Gerald greeted.
Marguerite smiled. "Allo, Gerald. Bonne après-midi."
"Thank you. Unfortunately, the C.E.O. figured out somebody helped the company." Gerald admitted.
Marguerite giggled. "Monsieur Weller is very clever. He has seen inside naughtiness before. It is what makes him good to have."
"Am I in trouble?" Gerald asked.
Marguerite shook her head. "Non. Monsieur Weller is a kind man. As I said, he is clever, he will not throw away what is valuable to the company. You are valuable. Chester, was not. He was a very dangerous liability. You need not worry over any of this anymore."
"Thank you. Merci, right?" Gerald asked.
"Oui, Gerald." The French woman giggled. "De rien. You are welcome."
"So what now?" Gerald asked.
Marguerite smiled. "You go home, love your wife, go to work, do your job. Live your life, Gerald. That; is what you do."
Gerald looked down, she was holding out a business card. It was identical to the one Ted had shown him.
"Ted gave me your card." Gerald said.
Marguerite smiled. "It only works the one time. I give you one of your own now."
"Oh. What about Chester?" Gerald asked as he put the card away.
Marguerite shrugged. "That is up to your courts. He was not as clever as he thought he was. However, it was a large amount of money and he tried to blame you for it. They will not overlook that. You have no more concern. His father should not harbor any ill feeling to you. It was not your fault. They understand you were afraid and rightly so. This is where I say au revoir, Gerald. All is done. Bonne chance et bonne vie."
Gerald shook her hand and watched her walk away. There wasn't anything about her that wasn't charming. Even the smile and pat on the head to a passing child proclaimed a lovely elegance. He took out his phone and dialed. When his wife answered, he suggested that they go to dinner that night.
Dara left the park and walked down the street. At a tram station she stopped at a locker, took off the brunette wig, brushed out her blonde hair and left. To anyone passing her by, she was just another nicely dressed young woman. A tram took her back over to the area where the bike shop was, but she didn't go there. Instead, she went further down and slipped through the backdoor into the restaurant. The waitress came over to her table.
"Hey Dara. What would you like?" The waitress asked.
Dara thought then replied. "Tell Nan I'd like roast chicken, Vicky. May I have a glass of Pinot Grigio with that, please?"
Vicky didn't need to write the order down, just simply nodded. "Sure. I'll tell her and bring your wine back."
A minute later an older woman came out and set a glass of white wine down. Dara accepted and even returned the hug she gave her.
"Nice to see you looking so pretty Dara. I heard you didn't open today." Nan said.
Dara shrugged. "That doesn't mean I didn't work today."
Nan nodded. "Uh-huh. Taking on or finishing up?"
"Finished up. You're not worried about me, are you Nan? Pop?" Dara asked.
"We do worry." An older man said from the door then went back out to the dining room.
Nan sighed. "It's not that we don't appreciate what you did for us, or that people do need you. You do things not many can. It's just that it’s a dangerous business you're in. You could make a good living just with the bike shop and settle down. You're that good. We worry, Sweetheart."
"I know what I'm doing Nan, you don't have to worry over me. Worry over Vicky; she hasn't been on a date, in three months." Dara snarked.
"I HEARD THAT!" Vicky called back. "Mind your own social life!"
Nan had to chuckle. It was just like Dara to provoke a fuss to get attention away from herself.
"I offered to set her up with the Agatha Walker's grandson." Nan played along.
Vicky hollered. "I'LL GET MY OWN DATES!"
"Who's dating?" Brenda asked, walking in and taking a table. "Hi Dara, nice dress."
Nan chuckled. "Vicky is SUPPOSED to be, but hasn't in three months."
Brenda nodded. "Oh. I know a guy."
"Leave me alone!" Vicky said then set Dara's plate down and glared. "You too!"
Dara shook her head. "I didn't make any offers."
"You started it." Vicky said hotly.
Dara gave a fake look of shock. "Me? Nooooooo."
Vicky looked over at Brenda then said to Nan. "You take her order."
All three burst into laughter after Vicky went back out to the dining room in a huff.
Brenda shook her head then told Nan she would like spaghetti and a red wine. Brenda's order was brought out and she began eating.
After a few bites each, Brenda looked over. "Did you shut somebody down today?"
"What makes you ask that?" Dara asked.
Brenda use her napkin then answered. "Bob picked up a case. He knows he won't win. Some spoiled brat tried to embezzle from a company and frame his boss. He got nailed all neat and tidy."
"Some people need keepers." Dara remarked.
Brenda took note that it wasn't a denial. "Uh. Is there going to be a funeral?"
Dara shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. Bob have a limited wardrobe?"
"Bob's still new. He might not take losing a client, in that fashion, well." Brenda said.
Dara sipped her wine then looked over. "He could lose a client, 'in that fashion', whether I have anything to do with it or not. Your friend needs to understand that things happen in jails and prisons to people sent there that is sometimes cruel and most times warranted. Should something of that nature happen to someone I arranged to be there, then it definitely is warranted and absolutely will be cruel. If I ever make a mistake, I will pay the price for it. With my life and definitely horribly. I feel no sympathy for anyone I go after, they don't deserve any. If you do, then don't send me."
"I just pissed you off." Brenda said heavily.
Dara had finished her plate. She pulled a large enough bill to cover it and a nice tip from her bra and tucked it under the edge of the plate then took her wine glass over to Brenda's table and sat across from her.
"How do you know me, Brenda?" Dara asked.
Brenda sighed. "I asked for your help."
"What did you want?" Dara followed up.
"Revenge." Brenda confessed.
Dara sipped her wine then inspected the faint print of lipstick on the glass. "Have you ever heard of me going after someone who hadn't done something to deserve me going after them?"
Brenda shook her head and all that got was Dara repeating the question.
Brenda admitted. "No. You won't do that. You won't be used as a pawn."
"It was tried. Remember?" Dara reminded.
Brenda nodded her head. "Yes. You made them suffer to the very end."
It was one of the whispered warnings about the Puppeteer. Twice, people had tried to use the Puppeteer. A corrupt cop and a Syndicate Boss. Both met with extreme misfortune. The fatal kind, neither gentle nor quick. In fact, it had been determined that in both cases, they had been kept for several days of suffering before they were allowed to die. Of all the Revenge-brokers in the city, the Puppeteer was the most feared. Many suspected that he was very active, but only proven when the target was dead. Black, roughly cut strings tied to wrists, ankles and neck were all that was needed to know. It was also kept very quiet by the police. The streets knew, the streets talked. The Revenge-broker dubbed The Puppeteer took on the worst of the worst, the untouchable ones, and brought them down permanently. No one dared to cross whoever it was anymore.
Brenda remembered staring at the headstones of her husband and daughter as she said the words that could never be unsaid to a beautiful blonde woman. The same one that sat across from her right now. Brenda had used every source she could to track down the most dangerous Revenge-broker in the city and hired her.
"I'm sorry I offended you." Brenda apologized.
Dara set her empty glass on the table and got up. "If you had offended me; you'd know."
Brenda didn't watch her leave, only sighed in relief after she was gone.
Outside, Dara walked down the sidewalk and sang quietly to herself. "That's how it goes. Everybody knows."
To be continued....
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Nathan Franko stood behind the yellow tape and watched. He was no stranger to the house swarming with crime scene technicians, patrol officers and Homicide detectives. The two Internal Affairs detectives were known to him as well. That shouldn't be a surprise. He, himself, was a cop. Twelve years on the force and a detective himself, for Narcotics. The house belonged to an older cop. A Lieutenant in the Vice division named Rex Timpkins, they called him T-Rex in the department and on the streets. He'd been Nathan's trainer. Nathan owed the man everything, he'd saved his life more than once on the streets.
Many people were sad whenever a cop died. Even more so in the line of duty. Suicide though, brought out the most raw emotions. Usually guilt and fear. If such an old and street-toughed cop could be driven to that, how could any of them keep it together and do the job? Suddenly there was more activity. Both the IAD men threw down their cigarettes in anger and went inside. One of the patrolmen had come out and looked more than disappointed. Nathan kept quiet as the officer stood beside another, in hearing range.
"Man. Now we know why. T-rex had about two kilos in the house. Almost half was packaged up for distribution." The Patrolman shook his head in disgust.
The second shook his head. "No way man. Not T-Rex. He hated dope. All his busts were clean."
"Maybe they were a little 'too clean'. IAD said they had gotten some rumbles about him. They were getting ready to open an investigation." The first replied. "As far as they're concerned. This is open and shut. He was dirty and figured out they were coming and off'ed himself."
In shock Nathan moved back slowly, distancing himself. When the first call for people to leave went out, he complied.
"No way. Rex wouldn't do it. Something's going on. Guess I need to do the digging myself." Nathan said as he got into his car.
Two weeks later, he stormed out of the Captain's office, having to leave his service pistol and shield on his desk, a statement of unpaid suspension crumpled in his fist. He went down and slammed his car door shut after getting in then pulled out his phone and was about to dial, but froze.
"DAMN IT!" Nathan swore then put his phone away.
His phone had to have been hacked. His apartment and car were probably bugged too. He needed a lawyer. A good one, but not one of the Union lawyers. Sure, a union lawyer would be free for him, but they weren't always more loyal to the cop needing them. No, he needed somebody on the outside, but not so far out they wouldn't understand the workings. He also needed one that had no ties to crime. Nobody that represented actual criminals. He needed one that specialized in real innocent people. He pulled in at a taco stand he saw and went in. After ordering he asked the woman behind the counter if he could use her phone and set three dollars on the counter. With a shrug it was set on the counter and his money taken.
After dialing the County Clerk of Court's office he asked for someone and was connected.
"Nathan? Haven't heard from you in a while." A woman's voice greeted him.
Nathan sighed. "Yeah. Sorry Jana. I need some advice. Actually I need a referral."
"Referral?" Jana asked.
Nathan affirmed. "Yeah. Somebody I know is in trouble. They didn't do anything, wrong place/time and caught in the middle now. Who's a good attorney for them?"
"You want a courtroom crusader; get Brenda Ellory. Be sure whoever they are is clean, Brenda won't defend a crook." Jana advised.
Nathan had written the name down on a napkin. "Thanks Jana. Much appreciated."
He hung up as his order tray was set down. Nathan handed the phone back and took his food over to an empty table to eat. The lawyer's name rang a bell, vaguely. After eating, he asked for a phonebook and looked her up and added the address to the napkin then left. Two blocks after pulling out, he noticed the tail car and wanted to swear. Still suspecting his car was bugged he decided to take them on a tour. For over an hour he drove around aimlessly. They followed diligently and parked at the curb when he pulled in at a building and walked inside. Three minutes later, they were shocked when he knocked on the window.
"Nice day for a drive?" Nathan asked then punched the driver.
It wasn't a real punch; enough to leave redness, but no bruise. He definitely got their attention. He also saw the display for a tracker. It was his car.
"We can have your ass for that!" The Driver snarled.
Nathan snapped his fingers and held out his hand. "See the warrants, let's go. Or I call State, and you can show it to them."
The warrants were handed over. A tracker, cell phone and hardline taps. A hardline tap meant that his computer was monitored as well. It was legal though. Obtained through channels. He had a way around those though and took out his phone to dial his Captain. It was put through immediately.
"Well Captain, since IAD is all over me I'll be direct. I've parked my car as it is bugged and being tracked. The car will be parked at the location it is now until this issue is resolved. Also, I will not be returning to my apartment. When I disconnect, I'll remove the battery from my phone and it will stay out for the duration as well. Have a nice FUCKING day." Nathan disconnected and removed the battery then walked over to the corner and hopped a tram.
At the next stop he got off, blending in with the crowd and slipped away, knowing the trail team would continue to follow the tram. Nathan walked several blocks then caught a taxi. The team thought he was heading West, but he was actually now heading North as intended. After being let off two blocks away, he strolled casually, using every trick he knew to make sure he wasn't followed then circled back and went inside the office of Brenda Ellory, Attorney at Law.
"Brenda. There's a Detective Franko out here asking to see you." The secretary told her.
Brenda looked confused, the name wasn't familiar to her and answered. "Send him in."
The door opened and Nathan Franko almost replaced it then walked in.
"Detective. How can I help you?" Brenda asked and gestured to the chair fronting her desk.
Nathan didn't waste time. "I need to hire a lawyer. I'm under investigation by IAD. I've caused a problem by investigating a case they don't want me to. A Lieutenant in another division is dead, they ruled it suicide. I believe it was staged. Drugs were also found at his house, I believe they were planted. He was my training partner. He was a good cop then, he wouldn't change."
"That's quite a statement, Detective." Brenda remarked.
"Hey I won't lie and say the man was a saint. He wasn't; divorced twice, but not messy. He kept both kids out of the fights and set the support higher than they asked and had no problem paying it. He did some side-jobs, but they were straight. Security for places during events. He put his kids above everything, he wouldn't go dirty. He wouldn't do anything to shame them." Nathan stated intently.
Brenda took all that in. It sounded right, but others had appeared that way before and were just as dirty as any other.
"So what happened?" Brenda asked.
Nathan sighed. "I'm in Narc, Rex was in Vice. I'm not allowed to work the case, and even if I was in Homicide, I still wouldn't be allowed since he was my trainer. I can understand that, but nobody wants to look into it. They want it white-washed and to go away. Look, I'm still young enough that I can go private. Rex is dead. He can't fight anymore, not even for his kids. I can. If it costs me my badge, so be it, I want no part of a dirty department. Rex's kids meant everything to him though. I need to clear his name for them."
"Costs you your badge? Wait. You said they were investigating you now? That's a bit much for a fishy suicide." Brenda stated.
Nathan frowned. "They found drugs in his house. They were planted by whoever killed him and staged it to look like a suicide. They just want it all to go away. I can't let that happen. Rex was a GOOD cop!"
"Ok. Let's say that's true. What exactly do you want to happen?" Brenda asked.
"Rex's name be cleared. Full honors at his funeral and his kids get his benefits. That's all I want. They deserve that much. He earned it." Nathan answered.
Brenda nodded then gave him a hard look. "And what if he was? Don't say impossible. It is and you know it. What if he was everything claimed he was?"
Nathan wanted to protest, even yell at her, but he couldn't. Cops went bad all the time and he knew it. Just about everybody had a number in their head. Say the number, the penny drops and you own them.
"I don't know. I can't picture it. It goes against everything he taught and told me. He was a good cop." Nathan said, shaking his head.
Brenda sighed. "Just so you know. If I get into this, it won't be cheap."
"Yeah. I'm not married, so I have money saved. When I leave here, I have to get a burn phone. They got a warrant for my cell and hardline. Tracker on my car too, so I'm using alternate transportation. By now they probably got a warrant to bug my apartment too." Nathan informed her.
Brenda sat back. "They're certainly going to quite a bit of trouble."
"If he really was dirty, they wouldn't bother. They'd let me do all the work for them and say 'we told you so' afterward." Nathan said pointedly.
"Fair point. I need a deposit to put me on retainer." Brenda said then began printing up pages.
Five minutes later, the contract for legal services were signed and she accepted a personal check. Luckily it was the same bank she used, so it would clear immediately. Brenda gave him the name of a hotel to check into and had her secretary get him checked in while she went to the bank. Her favorite manager let her know the exact contents of the amount and any deposits that weren't from the City. There were some that were cash, but only 6 in the past four years and all under two hundred dollars.
Brenda left the bank and visited her main info-broker. The search only took an hour and turned up nothing that shouldn't be. Another search revealed the same about the dead Vice cop. No offshore accounts in his or any family members' names at all. In fact, the only thing of interest was that the deceased Vice Lieutenant's tax return was slightly off, to the tune of two dollars and forty-three cents in his favor. A check for that amount was pending issuance. No information to the contrary could be found digitally, that left analog.
Brenda met with an old client. He had been a gang member at one time, but had since changed and went legit. That didn't mean he would not hear talk on the street. In fact, his new line of work gave him unprecedented access. He had went to barber school and opened a shop.
"Teyvon." Brenda greeted, standing in the door.
Teyvon waved her in. "Hi Brenda. Looking to sport a new Do?"
Brenda arched an eyebrow at the young man. He was giving an older man a classic shave, with a traditional straight-razor. At least that's what it looked like until she got closer. The razor was actually a safety model.
"Maybe a shampoo and set, unless you lost the pink rollers." Brenda quipped.
Teyvon rolled his eyes and chuckled between strokes. "Walked right into that one. Stop laughing Lamar."
Brenda sat down and waited for him to finish. More than one second-glance was given to her. It wasn't often a woman visited an actual barber-shop. Especially a woman that looked well-to-do. Teyvon finished the shave, wiped away any residue from the shave cream and even applied an aftershave then pulled the cloth and gave it a quick snap. The customer paid him then went out, smiling. Teyvon nodded for her to follow, led Brenda to the back, poured himself a coffee and offered her one as well.
"What's up Brenda?" Teyvon asked.
Brenda leaned against a counter. "Vice cop, named Rex."
Teyvon sipped and nodded. "Already heard. It's shit."
"Oh?" Brenda asked.
"T-Rex was straight-up. If you was young and he caught you high; he'd try to get you in one of the free rehabs on a first. He catch you again, he'd run you in. Working girls, same. First time; he'd take to Sanctuary. After that, downtown. Pimps, dealers; always downtown. He'd try to get kids clean, didn't work most of the time. He kept trying though. If one kid cleaned up, it made it worth it." Teyvon informed her.
Brenda took that in and asked. "Why make him look dirty though?"
Teyvon shrugged. "Probably the same reason to make anybody look dirty that isn't; he found out something he shouldn't. Saw or heard something he wasn't supposed to."
"Anybody in particular?" Brenda asked.
Teyvon laughed. "Girl, if I knew that; I'd sell it to the news and never be seen again!"
Brenda had to chuckle. He was right. If he did know something like that, he'd also have proof that could be sold to the media and escape to somewhere very far away.
"What I do know is; whatever got him checked out was from his own and they want it gone." Teyvon said. "Brenda, you watch your ass. They won't play."
"Thanks." Brenda understood the warning for what it was and left.
Dirty cops were involved and they would have no problem going after her as well. She called up her private investigator. He told her he would discreetly look into things.
Nathan sat in the hotel room and mostly watched television. It was a small place, more like a Bed and Breakfast than an actual hotel, but there were twenty rooms. He went to the back lawn for fresh air. There was a small collection of books and he began reading from it. That was something he'd never really gotten into, but now seemed like a good time.
Brenda hung up the phone and silently cursed herself. Her investigator hit the Blue Wall and barely managed to stay beneath notice. She grabbed her purse and headed out. Fifteen minutes later she walked through the door.
Daryl looked up from the Boys' BMX bike he was working on and frowned. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
"Corrupt cops, staged suicide, frame up and a believer." Brenda replied.
Daryl pulled on the back wheel to tension the chain then tightened the lugs. "So, fix it."
"My investigator hit the Blue Wall. They closed ranks. No way to ferret the truth out." Brenda replied.
The chain was lubricated then Daryl turned the crank to check it over. Satisfied; he took the bike off the stand, walked it over to the ready line then pulled off the gloves and laid them on the counter.
"So you think I'm the solution to the problem." Dara's voice asked.
Brenda sighed. "Everything I got says the man was clean as they come, but the officials are hammering that he was dirty."
Dara stared intently at Brenda then finally said. "Tell your client to be at The Museum of Art this evening. He'll be met in the Impressionists' collection."
Brenda nodded, set a single page on the counter and left.
Nathan stood in front of a scenic painting, he didn't really get art. Old paintings of people, places or events that may or may not have even existed didn't mean anything to him. He wandered around then stopped in front of a very realistic looking painting and stared at it.
"Gustave Caillebotte." A male voice with a Latin accent said. "Of all the Impressionists, his pieces looked the most like actual photographs."
"That's pretty much what I was thinking. How old is it?" Nathan asked.
The man replied. "He finished this piece in Eighteen-eighty-three. Unfortunately, Senor Caillebotte died eleven years later at the age of forty-five. A great loss. You would be familiar with great losses, Senor."
"Not exactly a low-key place to meet." Nathan commented.
The gentleman chuckled. "Precisely why it is the perfect place to meet, Senor."
"So what do I call you?" Nathan asked.
"César Echagüe. You are Nathan Franko, Detective with la unidad de narcóticos. You wish to tell me about your Mentor. I will listen, Senor Franko." Cesar said.
Nathan sighed. "Rex. Everybody called him T-Rex. I met him when I made Detective. He was my training partner. He led and I followed. He never told me to leave his side. In fact, he told me to stick like glue. Even on the weekends he had his kids, I was told to be there. He wanted me to see that even though the marriage fell apart, he would still be there for his kids. Not just a father, but a Dad too. On the job; he was tough. The streets will gut a cop. Not him though. He was tough, but never forgot he was dealing with people."
"Si. People always change things." Cesar remarked.
Nathan nodded and put his back to the wall. "That's just it. He constantly hammered in that not all were real criminals. Some did what they did out of pure survival. No choice. Some simply made a mistake and others were hanging on for their lives. Not saying there weren't career criminals, or those aspiring to be, just that some were only taking the only option they could see. Sometimes the addict needs rehab, sometimes they need jail. He taught me that being a cop was more than just putting the cuffs on somebody. Sometimes being a good cop is just listening to somebody that needs to talk it out. We serve, it's on cars and badges. Protect and Serve. It's what a real cop does and he said it everyday."
"Noble sentiment, Senor. I would guess that it was not shared by others, si?" Cesar asked.
"Yeah. I'm not saying he didn't have enemies, he was a cop, it comes with the job. Pimps he busted, dealers, hustlers; they'd have been glad to not see him around. That's expected. But this is all wrong. Rex wouldn't turn and he wouldn't check-out. He loved his kids more than anything else, he'd never do anything to shame them. To see them be ashamed of him, that would kill him. He wouldn't do that to them." Nathan said firmly.
Cesar mulled that over then asked. "What is it, exactly, you wish?"
Nathan shook his head. "I'm not a dirty cop. All I want, is Rex's name cleared. That's all I ask, please. My own investigation got shut down and nobody else will pick it up. That's all I want, the truth to be known."
Cesar sighed then nodded. "Very well Senor Franko. Know this, the truth you find may not be the one you seek. I will find this truth and will not spare thought to whether you like it or no. You may be a public servant Senor, but I am not. I will show some kindness. I will do as you ask, but I ask for eighteen thousand dollars. It must of course, be paid in a timely manner. Today is Monday. It must be electronically sent to this account by next Tuesday and you never speak of me to anyone. Tenemos un acuerdo? You agree to this?"
Nathan took the card and shook Cesar's hand as he said the words that could not be taken back. "Yes, I do agree."
"Buenas noches, Senor." Cesar replied and focused his attention on the painting he was standing in front of.
Nathan made his way out, understanding the meeting was now over. Cesar appeared to be only looking at the painting, but was actually looking at the monitor on his wrist that looked like a digital watch. Franko left and was not being followed by anyone. Cesar slipped out a side door and down a long alley to exit onto the sidewalk at the end of the block and blended in with the foot-traffic. An hour and a half later, the disguise of Cesar was shed and Dara sat down at her computer station. As she typed the access codes, she softly sang along to the song playing.
Dara knew better than to try hacking into IAD's files. That division was deliberately left vulnerable to penetration, so that any attempts could be easily traced. No, instead of that, she went after the Medical Examiner's system. She needed two things to be found there. The case file and exact time of death. After gaining both, she backed out and went into the city's evidence inventory. There she found the location of the container of evidence logged and who had entered it. The badge number belonged to an IAD detective, no surprise. Dara began getting ready to go exploring.
Daryl slowly eased into the narcotics holding area. It hadn't been easy, but the cameras were on a loop now, but only for the next twenty minutes. It took him over twelve to find the box he was looking for and opened it. The box held what he needed to find the most. Two kilos of cocaine. He read the inventory sheet first. It was there; two kilograms of cocaine, rated eighty-five percent pure. The sheet also had the chemical analysis and that gave the most critical information. How the cocaine was 'cut' and any branding to it. There was, but they were contradictory. It had been cut with Sucrose and Manitol, a mix used by the local extension of a Mexican syndicate. The packaging though held the brand of rivals based out of Bolivia. That was what he needed to know. Carefully he left and pulled the looping feed.
Late the next evening Daryl rode down the street, coasting. He was on the street behind the dead detective's house. He slowed down and stopped to dismount. The batteries on the headlight had died. Daryl casually changed the batteries and checked the tires' air pressure then remounted and rode on. Back at home he took a small black box from the underseat bag and connected to his computer system. It was a WiFi reader. He had stopped in front of the dead detective's house and changed the batteries in his tail light. The time it took to change the batteries was used to gain the identifiers for any open WiFi modules.
Daryl used those identifiers to hack in and read all contacts. The detective had a locked signal, but two houses across the street were open. The house directly behind was also open. That one was where he hit pay dirt. Six phones not belonging to occupants had registered on the WiFi. Three burn phones and three registered phones.
Phone One was registered to a Narcotics Sergeant Detective named Eugene Parsons. Phone Two belonged to Lieutenant Drew Kyncade, of Internal Affairs. Phone Three made Daryl sit back and facepalm in disgust. Assistant District Attorney Michael Bellazar. All those phones passed through the time frame for the detective's death.
"Shit just got real." Dara said aloud.
It was now obvious as to who was involved. The problem now was proving it in a way that could not be discounted or discredited. That wasn't the only problem. The involvement of an ADA meant there would be serious repercussions. Each and every single case he had prosecuted would be reviewed and retried, some were likely to be thrown out. Guilty people could be set free, innocent people could be held over regardless. Then was still the obvious. Franko. No matter what, he would go down. More than likely, murdered in retaliation. Not even Witness Protection would be able to help. A message was sent to Brenda then Dara went to nap.
Brenda rode the Greenway. She was trying to maintain a steady Twenty-two miles per hour. Suddenly, a blonde girl on a white, pink and purple road racer wearing coordinating apparel turned onto the pavement beside her and matched speed easily. Like a falcon catching a pigeon in mid-air.
"JESUS!" Brenda yelped.
The girl shook her head. "Not even close."
Brenda tried to focus on the path. "What's going on Dara?"
"Big problems. This isn't just some dirty cops. It's a Brotherhood. No way is your guy gonna get what he wants and survive. I need to meet with him again." Dara said.
Brenda felt her stomach flip. This was very bad. Nathan had uncovered something that would cut deep into the legal infrastructure. Something very much worth being killed over. "Oh God, Dara, am I going to have to run? Disappear?"
"No. You tell him to be at the corner of Twelveth and Ironwood at One this afternoon, empty-handed. He has to send the payment to the account by ten today. His entire account. Everything he has, down to the last penny." Dara stated then broke off onto the next ramp and was gone.
Brenda rode to the next ramp then stopped as the waves of fear went over her. Nathan had to escape, leaving everything behind and never come back or he would be killed. The urge to throw-up hit and she succumbed, emptying her breakfast onto the grass. With shaking legs, she rode home.
Nathan leaned against the wall of the building at the location he was told. At exactly noon, he saw Cesar approaching. A subtle nod indicated he was to join him.
"What's going on?" Nathan asked softly.
Cesar didn't bother with pleasantries. "You have no idea what you have started Senor Franko. It can only end with your death. You must choose whether it is to be on your terms, or theirs."
"Mine. How bad is it?" Nathan asked.
Cesar wore a face etched in stone. "Years of recovery. Senor Bellazar is involved. I will clear your friend's name. I can do it. Many will fall. You will become a sacrifice or a martyr. The choice is yours."
"If I become a martyr, will it help?" Nathan asked.
Cesar nodded. "It will make all the difference for the better. My instructions must be followed to the letter."
Nathan sighed. "Tell me what to do."
"Give me all your personal effects. At the end of this street, a red van will stop. Get inside and hide. You will be taken out of the city. When you get to your destination, you will be given that which will get you out of the country. Never come back Senor Franko. Your other option is to go back to your car and try to go to the State Attorney." Cesar instructed.
Nathan didn't need to hear the part about how if he chose the second option, it would be fatal and more importantly, futile. He handed over everything in his pockets and walked down the street, never to be seen again, as Cesar turned down a side street and went in a different direction.
Daryl spent the rest of the day moving information around. It hadn't been easy, but he did manage to swap DNA records with a John Doe in the morgue then appropriated the body, while stealing all hard copy at the same time. There was an inch of difference, but such was negligible. The next night, Daryl put on one of Franko's suits and a life-like mask to give him the identity. A pair of shoes with hidden lifts gave him the needed height. He made his way across town using blind spots of coverage and acquired Franko's car. A tracking device was found easily, but ignored. In fact, that made things even easier. Now it was time for a cop to die.
The fake Franko raced down several streets with high camera saturation then down a street with none. No one noticed the car stop for several minutes then drive on. By then two cars were following it. After two consecutive right turns, Franko suddenly made a break for it. Like a Robber fleeing a bank, he ripped down several streets with high camera saturation. It drew attention and lots of it. Two very well planned moves and the car was into another blind spot then found in a parking lot. Chase cars stopped as the car upside-down and ablaze. Marks on the street appeared to look like the car had lost control during a turn, over-corrected and lost again, hitting a curb at the worst possible angle. The car had evidently flipped into the parking lot and rolled at least twice. Fire extinguishers were useless against the blazing inferno. Even the fire department just stood back and let it burn down for an hour before using foam to put it out the last of it.
Daryl had pulled off the mask and listened to a small hand held scanner the whole time. The John Doe had been dressed in the suit and made to appear driving. Thermite had done the rest. The fire was finally dying down when they made the announcement he'd waited for.
"All units, all units. Officer; down."
Daryl turned and walked deeper into the alley, favoring his right leg slightly. He would have to wait a day or two before the next step of the plan could be started. The reports on the car would have to be revealed. A thermite bomb was why it exploded, cut brake lines were why it had been out of control. The whole run had been carefully staged. The street he had stopped on had been the only one without cameras it was possible. It was currently being cleaned of the sand and gravel 'accidentally' dumped on it earlier. The street was also sloped and Daryl had entered at the bottom, gravity and friction enabled the rest. The hardest part had been the timer for the bomb. It was the most critical component.
Assistant District Attorney Michael Bellazar happily when about business as usual after the announcement that Nathan Franko had burned to death following a high speed crash five days before. He laid low for a day and waited for reports to hit, then went back to work. He was completely surprised when two men walked in and flashed State Police Detective credentials, even more so when they cuffed and mirandized him.
"Counsel, you're under arrest for the murder of Detective Rex Timpkins." One Detective stated.
Bellazar was now confused. "Wait! What?"
As he was taken out the front of the District Attorney's office, gathered media glared at him and barraged questions, one stood out more than any other.
"Counselor Bellazar! Is it true that you've killed several police officers and ordered the deaths of more that were investigating corruption within the police department and the District Attorney's office?"
The reaction was purely instinctual; he flinched and tried to shy away, but the two Detectives held him firmly. Bellazar was on display for all to see. He was getting the 'Perp-walk'.
Daryl watched the breaking news story and gave the screen a look of contempt. It had been tough over the past week. The first thing he'd done was breaking into the IAD Detective's house and stole the kitchen timer. He also took a pair of boxers from the hamper as well as the razor in the trash can that had a drop of blood on the blades. From those, DNA could be transferred easily. He also took fingerprints from appliance handles in the kitchen. Using all those things had enabled Daryl to produce a thermite bomb made by the corrupt detective and also 'rig' the brakes. In truth, Daryl had drained the brake fluid from the booster, refill with new and pour the old on the pavement to seem like a brake line had been cut. During the unobserved stop was when the brake line was actually cut.
Nobody had been more surprised when two State Police Detectives and four uniformed Troopers quietly entered the IAD office and surrounded him than Drew Kyncade.
"Drew Kyncade; you are under arrest for the murder of Detective Nathan Franko." One of the Detectives stated then motioned one of the uniformed Troopers to take him into custody.
He had been so shocked that he didn't think to protest until they were walking him down the hall. That had only called more attention to him as he gave out too much, by including Franko's name in the shouted denials. The technician processing the bomb residue had panicked and contacted the State Police when he got a hit on a fingerprint. There was also blood on sharp electrical contacts. The State Police was able to get a search warrant secretly and execute it. Supplies to make several thermite bombs were found in the home office. Daryl had even managed to settle dust on the table top and supplies then move things around to make voids of activity and leave more fingerprints. The clincher was a fully assembled bomb that was almost clean of prints.
That wasn't all they found. Drugs, cash and computer files of his own corrupt activities as well as others. Including audio/video of meetings with the Assistant District Attorney taking part of crimes. The most damning had been the murder of Rex Timpkin and the ordering of action against Nathan Franko. Bellazar himself had pulled the trigger after gloating about fabricating evidence against Timpkins. Search Warrants and Arrest Warrants were quickly filed and carried out on thirty other various members of the police department, even the crime lab. By the time the media got wind of the massive move, they had enough time to catch the arrest of the Assistant District Attorney.
Brenda watched the news, stunned. With so many arrests of corrupt police there was no way they could be jailed locally. The State determined they would be held in two county jails on the other side of the state. None would be allowed bail; due to being a risk to witnesses, escape or permanently silenced by any that had been able to avoid discovery. The State Attorney did make the public statement exonerating Detective Rex Timpkins and lamenting the loss of him as well as Nathan Franko.
Brenda stood in the doorway the next morning. "Did you catch the news this morning?"
"Nope. Busy." Daryl replied. "Things piled up around here for some reason."
Brenda walked in. "It seems that there were several suicide attempts during the night. None were successful."
Daryl made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, or exertion, as he was trying to loosen the lugs of the rear wheel on a hybrid bike with a courier logo.
"Will he be ok?" Brenda asked.
Daryl finally cracked the lugs loose and spun them off. "Dunno who you're talking about."
Brenda looked down and sighed. Daryl would not say the man's name or anything else about him again. The true fate of Nathan Franko would never be known by anyone except The Puppeteer. It was another of the many secrets that would be taken to the grave. She knew nothing more would be said on the subject and left.
Daryl knew she hadn't seen the small laptop under the counter. On its screen was the log of two transactions. Twenty-seven thousand dollars had been deposited into the account days ago, followed by the same amount going to a newly opened account at Santander Bank in Cancun the next day. The account was for Neil Forrest and had been opened that day.
Looking at the screen and sighing, Dara said softly. "Sorry I made you think I took all your money, but I had to make it look like they did before I could send it to you. That jerk, Kyncade, had enough cash in his house that I was able to get double my fee and still be plenty for him to get nailed with."
Dara slowly walked to the front window and looked out as she sang softly. "Everybody knows. Everybody, knows."
Down in Cancun, Chief of Police Enrique Cordona shook hands with the man coming into his office. "Welcome Senor Forrest, come in."
"Thank you." Neil replied and sat down in the chair indicated.
Enrique sat on the edge of his desk and smiled. "I'm very glad I am able to repay the favor I owed to our mutual friend and get an added bonus. I know you were told you could be an officer here, but I really need a Captain. You have more training and experience than most of my department combined, I must make the most of this good fortune. Please say 'yes', Capitan Forrest? A man of your integrity; I'd be a fool to let slip away!"
"Guess I'd be a fool if I did. A good Chief, nice house and a car. Ok Chief Cordona, I accept." Neil replied.
Enrique swore him in then handed him the badge. "You will not be sorry, Capitan. Here, I'll show you to your new office. Please be kind to your secretary, she is my wife's cousin and is saving up for college in the United States. She wants to go to Law School at Tulane. She will be the first to do so. Well, the first to complete college."
"Complete?" Neil asked.
Enrique led him into the office and closed the door. "I guess I should tell you how these things come to be. My son, God rest him, went off to college in the United States. He wanted to be a doctor. Unfortunately, he met with tragedy. Murdered, by some men stealing drugs from the hospital there. There I met someone, a woman. Well, not much more than a girl really. She had met my son and befriended him. He had become interested in bicycles, of all things. Racing bicycles. She knew much about that and took him under wing, as you say. I met her outside the morgue. She had been waiting for me, with an offer. She offered to avenge my son."
"Revenge. You met a Revenge-broker." Neil said, now understanding.
Enrique seemed to understand the term. "So it seems. She knew more than the police there. In fact, she knew everything. I had my doubts of course, but gave my blessing. Before the ink had dried on the papers releasing my son to be brought home, it was done. All ten of them, Capitan. Muerte, dead. Proof of their crimes at their feet. There was something strange. They all had black strings tied to their hands, feet and necks. Like marionetas, cut free and tossed aside."
"Marionetas? You mean marionettes, puppets?" Neil asked then his eyes flew wide. "The Puppeteer!"
Enrique looked intently. "You know this person well?"
Neil began to laugh and finally caught his breath. "The Puppeteer! Practically an urban legend. The most mysterious and secretive Revenge-broker in the city. Some say a woman, others say a man. Some even say it's a group of people working under one name. Nobody has actually been able to prove the existence, except for those damn strings showing up every now and then on a body."
Enrique pulled open a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle real bourbon and two glasses. He poured for them both and made the toast. "To our mutual friend; mysterious as she, or he, may be. Saludo!"
"Salute!" Neil chuckled and drank.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Both turned to see a beautiful young woman lean in.
"Tio, is this the new Capitan?" The young woman asked.
Enrique chuckled. "Si. Capitan Forrest; this is your secretary, my neice, Constanza Luna Villanueva."
"Very nice to meet you Senorita Villanueva. Please forgive all future mangling of Spanish by me. I took it in High School and barely passed the class." Neil admitted.
Constanza smiled. "Not to worry Capitan, I speak English very well and as I will go to law school in America, I should get accustomed to being called Connie, yes?"
"Sounds good to me, Connie. We'll get settled in tomorrow and start getting in gear." Neil said then poured another bourbon and offered it to her. "A quick celebration to a new beginning."
"A new beginning." Connie saluted, drank and gasped. "Ooh! I was not ready for that! I am better suited to wine."
Neil laughed. "Maybe so. Chief, Connie, allow me to take you both to lunch. Today we are new friends, tomorrow we will be colleagues."
They went out as Enrique smiled. "Neil, you are going to enjoy life here. I know this for certain."
Connie was smiling for a different reason. She would suggest the restaurant her best friend worked at. Neil was just the type of man Lucia would be interested in.
Back in Port Klasten, arraignments began. Many made deals in exchange for their sentences to be carried out in prisons out of state. Bellazar though had peculiar incidents. He escaped and was caught four times. The really strange part, was that he didn't seem to understand how it was happening. Especially as they kept finding him dazed and naked in malls. While Bellazar declared a guilty plea during his arraignment and agreed to the death sentence with no appeal, no one paid any attention to the blonde woman sitting in the last row of the Gallery with a stoney expression. Dara left with the crowd and meandered down the sidewalk humming to herself.
On the steps of the courthouse, Detective Raul Wheller lit a cigarette in disgust. He had been lucky, only he knew about his infractions. He hadn't been part of that idiotic group. All he cared about was catching that damned Revenge-broker. He wanted The Puppeteer. He knew that was who was behind the collapse of corruption in the department.
"I'll catch your ass, Puppeteer. One day, you'll fuck up and I'll nail your ass. That's a fucking promise!" The Homicide Detective growled.
To be continued....
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Walter quietly closed the door and walked back to his car. Inside his house, his wife was reveling in the orgasmic throes provided by her latest conquest. He got back into his car and drove away. For the past three years things steadily went further away. Now it was almost routine. Work all day, come home to his wife having sex with someone in their bed, leaving to dine and drink alone, return to sleep in a guest bedroom or in the car if too drunk to drive, shower and go back to work. One night the previous week, she had four at the same time. It hadn't been the first for that. At the bar he was just barely maintaining himself, asking for a drink. The bartender already knew his situation, due to a drunken confession sometime back.
"Walter." The bartender said, standing in front of him and holding out the credit card. "Problem. The card is maxed out."
Walter blinked then took it and switched to his bank debit card. "Sorry Lou."
Lou was back and sighed. "Insufficient funds Walter."
Walter was confused as he took his card. He pulled out his phone and used it to check his bank balance. A large withdrawal had happened that afternoon, of several thousand dollars. Then card transactions upward of hundreds of dollars to a spa, salon, clothing store, shoe store, limo service and finally the restaurant he had eaten at. He was broke, officially.
"Walt, I'll spot you that one. Ok?" Lou offered.
Walter shook his head and pulled a Ten from his wallet. "I got it, Lou, but thanks. I have to go."
Lou shook his head, watching him leave. "Man, you deserve better. That whore is out to ruin you, just for the fun of it."
Walter drove directly home and went inside. Downstairs, Walter logged into the computer and accessed the bank and turned off the online service then cancel all debit cards. That was followed by canceling the credit cards. There would be no way the computer could access anything. He went up to the bedroom and found Ellen's purse. It took a minute to dig through it to find all the cards then the cash as well and walk out. In a moment of anger he reached down into the man's discarded pants and pulled his wallet free and took all the cash inside and walked back out.
Ellen had seen the door open and ignored it until it closed. A quick glance around and she saw her purse was moved and open. She shifted her position and made her lover climax faster.
"Be right back." She purred and went, without covering herself. In the kitchen she found her husband. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?"
Walter was holding the cards over a stove burner with a pair of tongs as they were burning. "Solving a problem. I already shredded the checks. Right now, the bank account is overdrawn. I don't know what you thought you needed that much money for, but put it back in the morning."
"I bought Reggie a new watch." Ellen spat.
Walter turned the cards to make sure they were burning through efficiently. "You'll have to return it then."
"No. He satisfied me." Ellen retorted smugly.
Walter looked at her. "Use your own money. Oh wait, you don't have any; all you do is lay around and fuck all day and night. The money was mine, so you'll have to return the watch and put the money back in the account. Get a job, earn money and then you can spend money on dicks. Or, you can always have them give you money."
"I wonder what Edward would say to that?" Ellen smirked.
Walter wanted to slap her for that. Edward was his personal attorney and she had seduced him along with three others he knew and made friends with several female divorce attorneys if they weren't lesbians she could also seduce.
"He'll probably tell you it was stupid to pull that." Walter leaned closer. "You may fuck him to get him on your side, but he still has to pay bills and if you piss away ALL the money, he won't get paid, which means he won't give a shit about you. Return the watch and put the money back in the account in the morning."
Ellen snarled. "Fuck you! Just for that, I'll go max out the other cards."
Walter held up the melted cards. "These cards?"
Ellen looked and was about to start shouting, but Walter cut her off. "I canceled all the cards and online service with the bank. I also shredded the checks. There is NO money in the account because of you. None! And I don't have any to put in there! You want money; go earn some!"
Walter went upstairs and moments later the man came down, putting on his clothes. He told Ellen he was leaving and did so. Walter came back down moments later carrying a suit bag along with a duffel and left as well. Walter backed out of the driveway and a crazy idea hit him. He pulled over at the end of the street and dug through his business card collection and found one for his bank. It was for a manager. Luckily, the manager was a woman, so he dialed.
"Mrs. Romero? Walter Deitrich. I am so very sorry to call you like this, but it's an emergency." Walter apologized then told her what had happened.
In a very tired voice, Amy Romero replied. "Alright. Good thing I keep a notepad close by. I'll inform the bank president about locking the account and denying card and check privileges."
"I hope this can be done, otherwise I'll have to close the account and go to another bank." Walter stated.
Amy Romero sighed. "I didn't say this, but it would probably be best if you did exactly that. It would put you back into control of your finances. I'll have everything ready for you to close the account first thing in the morning."
Walter sighed. "Thank you. I'll see you first thing."
He checked into a cheap hotel for the night and was standing at the bank door half an hour before it opened. Amy spotted him and let him in. Ten minutes later the account was closed completely and he was on his way to a different bank. By Ten that morning he was in front of the head of Payroll, filling out the direct deposit form for the new account.
"Dietrich. My office." A voice called from the doorway.
Walter signed off on the form and followed his boss. He had a feeling he should cover his ass, just in case, so he turned on the digital recorder he kept in his pocket for reminders. In the office he sat down and looked to Walter.
"Got a call." Walter's boss stated.
Walter sighed. "My wife is out of control, Mister Carothers. I'm having to make new pay arrangements. She's out of her mind and spending like there's no limit."
"She's also good in bed." Carothers smirked.
Walter got close to the desk and leaned forward slightly. "WHAT was that?"
"I said; she's also good in bed." Carothers repeated looking satisfied with himself.
"You're sleeping with my wife? You plan to use that against me? Money or otherwise?" Walter asked hotly.
Carothers sat back and chuckled to himself. "Let her do what she wants and don't worry about money. I'll have your checks sent directly to her. My dick was deep in her ass late last night and she'll be by in an hour to do it again on this desk. You'll be watching."
Walter beckoned him forward. "Jack."
"That's MISTER Carothers to you." Jack Carothers contested as he sat forward in the chair, about to mouth off more.
Walter cut him off with a punch then ran around to the other side as Jack had fallen over. He got behind him and kicked him between the legs twice then walked out. "I'm filing a suit against you for that, Jack-ass."
Walter drove directly over to the Board of Labor and filed his grievance. He had refused to meet with any male case workers. When a woman agreed to take his case, he explained his situation. The woman shook her head in disgust and assured him she would look after him. Walter let her make a copy of the recording and copies of the bank statements. They included card numbers, which revealed which person was responsible for the transaction. She also recommended the name of a divorce attorney, unfortunately it was one he knew she already had slept with.
Walter had left the house with more than had been seen. He also took several high value pieces of jewelry and the sales receipts. Selling them at a couple of pawn shops was no problem and gave him a bit of a cushion. Money in hand, he went to the bar and sat down.
"Something happen? Like, an asteroid hit your house right after you left this morning?" Lou asked, setting Walter's usual drink down.
Walter shook his head. "No. Lou, I have to do something. I can't get a decent divorce attorney here, hell she's probably been fucking the damn judges too. I need help."
Lou looked at him and asked quietly. "How bad do you want it?"
Walter held up his hands. "Whoa! I don't mean illegal. I just want to get a divorce, clean. I need a lawyer or somebody that she can't get to."
Lou and Walter were alone, so he went to his office and came back with a card. Lou struck a match and held it below the card, gently warming it. The card turned black and revealed red letters for contact information.
"She won't get to that person." Lou said and set his laptop on the bar top.
Walter was about to use his email and thought twice. Ellen might have been able to get into it. Quickly he set up a new account with a different service and was about to send out a message.
"Walt." Lou said then added. "Go get a new phone. Prepaid. Then do that."
Walter did just that. Fifteen minutes later he sent out the message. An hour later he got a reply. The message was simple. He was to be at Angela's cafe at Four that afternoon and ask for patio table Nine. Jacket and tie required. Walter went back to the same hotel he had stayed at to clean up and change.
"Ah. There you are. Mister Dietrich?" An attractive young woman with a British accent and long red hair greeted him at the table.
Walter nodded and gently shook her hand. "Yes, Miss?"
"Rebecca Sharp; Becky, if you like." Rebecca said warmly.
Walter smiled. "Thank you for seeing me Becky. Please call me Walter."
Becky poured a cup of tea for him. "Sweet; with lemon?"
"I think so. Sorry, I'm not much of a tea drinker." Walter admitted.
Becky giggled. "Just think of it as a tame coffee, Walter. How may I help you?"
"It's my wife. A simple divorce is out of the question. Just telling you that up front. She has managed to seduce or befriend every good divorce attorney in the area. The woman is beyond comprehension. She'll sleep with just about anyone she can for influence, especially over me." Walter said.
Becky looked stunned. "My. That is direct. Just exactly how did all this get off?"
Walter sighed. "I met her at a mixer eight years ago, dated for a year and got married six months after. Things were great, then. Four years ago, a couple we were friends with invited us to a party. Turned out to be a swinger party, quite a bit of drinking going on. We both got a bit curious and agreed to a one-time thing. Never should have gone to that damn party. She goes into a room with the husband we knew and I found myself getting attention from some woman I didn't know. I thought we had an agreement and went with the flow. Big mistake. Ellen had planned it all out. The woman was a prostitute and I didn't know Ellen had snuck into the room with a video camera. Right when I finished and hadn't even caught my breath, she asked if I got my two hundred dollars worth. I don't mean to get so graphic, but I was still shaking from my climax when she did that."
"Bugger. That was rather nasty." Becky remarked.
"Yeah. That's when I saw her eyes weren't on me and turned to look. Ellen was standing there with a video camera and huge smile. She turned it off and laughed that she now had proof that I cheated on her first. I have, well had, a modest job. I wasn't going to be rich, but I made a decent living. I never thought about a pre-nup. Now I'm nailed. She's ruining my life on every aspect and can nail me to the cross anytime she wants." Walter informed her.
Becky sat contemplating that and finally asked. "Just, off chance, can you make a list of who she has 'influence' over?"
Walter pulled a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "Actually I can. Bluntly; my wife is a slut that will lay down at the very mention of Penis. If it's attached to somebody important, she won't even bother to waste time getting undressed. She hasn't worn underwear in two and a half years."
Becky gave a look of disgust. "So much for subtlety. Just out of curiosity, what about disease or pregnancy?"
Walter shrugged. "I haven't slept with her since that night and she used to be on the pill, but I have no idea now. To be honest, I lost all sex drive after that night. I don't even care to see a doctor about it, she probably got to him too."
"I see." Becky said then began reading the list.
For quite a while she read silently then tucked it away.
"Becky, can you help me at all?" Walter asked.
Becky nodded. "Please understand, I am not some civil servant or Samaritan. I provide a service. That service of course, comes at a fee. It must be paid in a timely manner."
Walter took out the new phone and brought up the information for his retirement and stocks then offered it to her. "I'll give you all I have, forty-four thousand and change. It's yours, but you have to do it now, before she gets it. Will you help?"
Becky looked at him. "The question is: what do you want Walter? If you want to go back to the way things were, I'll tell you now that it won't happen. If all you want is to be free of her, arrangements can be made for you to simply leave. Otherwise, you are wanting revenge for all that she has done to you. Do you want freedom....or revenge?"
Walter thought long and hard then finally looked up. He had made the most difficult decision of his life.
"Revenge." Walter said, knowing the words were final. "I want revenge."
Becky nodded and took the phone. "You shall have it, Walter."
Walter accepted the phone back, then was surprised when she also handed him a thousand dollars as well.
"Check your car for any tracking devices then get out of state for a month. Go somewhere you can prove every minute of being at. Come back in thirty days. Goodbye, Walter." Becky instructed.
Walter stood up. "Thank you."
Becky watched him leave then signaled the waitress for the check. After paying it she left. Passing between two delivery trucks stopped for a light, the red wig and floral dress came off to reveal her own longer blonde hair and short pale blue bodycon dress then slipped on a pair of sunglasses as Dara changed directions while concealing the Becky disguise into her large handbag. No one noticed the quick change, including the man with a video camera she spotted tailing her from the cafe. He merely stood on the sidewalk looking both directions in confusion at losing his quarry.
"So much for amateur hour. That was a very big mistake, Ellen." Dara said to herself then sang softly. "Everybody knows, everybody knows. That's how it goes."
Ellen hung up the phone angrily. Her lawyer's investigator lost the woman her husband met with. The red head was a total mystery. She hadn't made a reservation at the cafe, paid in cash and vanished into thin air. The waitress never even heard the woman's name mentioned. That wasn't the only bad news. He had lost Walter as well. He had found out that Walter had checked out of the hotel and left, but had no idea where he went. The tracker on Walter's car had been found inside a random Uber driver-less car.
Ellen had called her lawyer as soon as she saw Jack Carothers nursing a black-eye and packing up his belongings snarling that Walter was fired, but had filed grievance with the Board of Labor against the company that could not be fought. She was told to leave and no longer had any business coming back as he was now fired. Walter would have a good reference from the company, but Jack would not. Ellen wasn't even out of the building when she called her lawyer. Hours later, he called her back with the news. Walter had met with a mysterious red-haired woman that disappeared without a trace on a busy sidewalk and Walter was nowhere to be found either.
All Ellen knew was that Walter had spent the night at hotel, alone, went to the bank first thing in the morning and closed out the bank account with notice of not being able to be reopened. The credit cards had been canceled and he also had his name removed from renewal lists. She had no way to open anything in his name now. Ellen was left with one option and headed for the bar Walter always went to. Hopefully she could get something out of the the bartender there.
Ellen smirked as she said to herself. "He won't say no to a blowjob for telling me what Walter's up to."
Dara had hopped on a tram and took out her phone after ditching her tail to send Walter a new message. It was plain and simple: on his way out of town cancel all services with next day cut-off, including insurance then obtain new car insurance for only himself through a different agency. The purpose was for the wife to be stuck without comfort. No electricity, no communications, no entertainment. Eventually she would be stopped by the local police and be found to not have auto insurance. She would be ticketed and the car would be impounded as well. Dara made it home and cleaned up before receiving a message from Walter that her instructions had been followed and he had even went one step further. Walter had sneaked back to the house and removed all her jewelry along with the receipts, she would not be able to sell any of it. He was now on his way out of town.
Daryl sat down in front of the computer system and brought it up. Within seconds information began coming in on the life and times of Ellen Deitrich. Any niceties ceased after Middle school for her. The online yearbook for High School made him face-palm.
"Wow Ellen. I've never seen somebody actually voted: Most Likely to wind up in low-grade porn and/or get multiple STD s. Damn, that's just bad." Daryl sighed, he had hoped her current M.O. was a recent development.
Shaking his head he then hacked into the home computer. There were many videos of her trysts, usually with references intent to humiliate Walter via comparison. Suddenly her phone came up on the network. Daryl hacked it. He could only get contacts and any stored data. Anything added after that moment or any calls or next texts would not be available. For that the phone would need to be cloned. No problem. He committed her identity to memory then began to get dressed. Long cycling pants and long jersey. It looked solid black. With that he also grabbed a black helmet then strapped on black shoes and brought out a black racing bike. Rolling onto the street he pressed a button under the seat and the entire frame lit up. A button on a box in the center back pocket of the jersey was pushed and the pants and jersey lit up similarly. Ribbon lights. They were very much like micro-LED lights but flat and flexible. Waterproof and gave off so little heat, they could be taped directly to the body and used for hours with no discomfort, save for the tape itself. Perfect for riding at night.
Almost an hour later, the lights suddenly went out and Daryl became a void in the night. A blur of darkness narrowly avoiding any pools of light from streetlights. A single lap around the block revealed all had settled in for the night. Only soft light came from the upstairs of Walter's house. Daryl coasted up the driveway and dismounted the bike. Carefully looking around the corners he checked for motion sensors and saw none. Until looking around into the backyard. There was one motion sensor there. Around the other side of the house Daryl used his scanner to try locking in on Ellen's phone. It was there but not alone. There was another phone coming up in the proximity as well.
"Well now. Who might you be?" Daryl whispered to himself then used his own phone to access the reverse-directory.
An expanded search made Daryl want to groan. "Judge Wilfred T. Brahmski. Family Court. He's who would hear any divorce proceedings. Oh? Hello. What are you?"
A new WiFi entry came up on the scanner. It wasn't a phone as it was linking to the computer. It was a wireless camera. Daryl pulled the signal and was surprised to not only pick up video, but audio as well. He had to mute it until plugging in an earbud then brought the volume up and started recording.
Inside, Ellen was now working to get past her earlier disappointment. Trying to pump the bartender for information on Walter had been a bust. Not only did Lou know all about Ellen and her antics, his husband hadn't like her making passes at him. Though the bar wasn't strictly LGBT patron-ed, there were enough there to make things very uncomfortable. Almost to the point that she began to feel threatened and made a hasty exit. Now she was pulling the most effective card she could; the Judge that presided over all divorce cases in the city. Ellen had already known that the Judge was a philanderer, he had been married to the same woman for thirty years. However she was reputed to be very conservative when it came to sex.
Ellen danced a striptease, removing her dress to reveal she wore only thigh high stockings under the dress. She sauntered over to the edge of the bed, turned around and began to grind and rub against the Judge. She turned around and helped him take off his own clothing until naked then knelt down and gave some oral attention to finish completely arousing him.
"Ellen, this is turning out to have been well worth the wait!" Judge Brahmski chuckled clenching her hair.
Ellen lewdly let her mouth pop as she released him and said. "I'm filing for divorce and couldn't hold back anymore Wilfred. I'm sure I'll prove my side of things. My husband simply doesn't have your air of authority....or girth. There's just nothing to appreciate."
Wilfred firmly pulled her up, still clutching her hair and pushed her onto her elbows and knees on the bed as he moved up behind her. "I'll give you plenty to APPRECIATE, Ellen. Now, do you solemnly swear to give your ass, the hole of your ass and nothing but moans, so fuck you hard?"
"Oh YES! I DO solemnly give: my ASS, the HOLE of my ASS and nothing butt MOANS, SO FUCK ME HARD! I THROW MYSELF ON THE MERCY OF YOUR COCK! Oh please Your HONOR, DISPENSE your jizz-tice!" Ellen cooed and giggled then yelped as he took her.
"Court is now IN session!" Wilfred laughed thrusting into her.
Outside Daryl tilted his head and whispered to himself. "Really? They couldn't come up with anything better, seriously? Adultery is reason enough, but these two have to go down after that idiotic dialogue. I have to, off sheer principle now. Judge, you need to be out of the picture, fast. Ellen, you are bad luck for guys."
While recording the session inside, Daryl also cloned Ellen's phone then the Judge's and muttered. "I'm sure I can get some shits 'n giggles somehow."
That's when it hit him and Daryl grinned at the pure sadism of the thought and sent out a text using the Judge's clone at the perfect moment. He almost lost it when the answer came immediately and the judge swore at the distraction. The orgasm ruined, Wilfred dug through his pants and found his phone only to swear more. A text from his wife:
pick up milk on the way home
Outside Daryl was silently howling. He had sent the text to the Judge's wife, stating he was now on his way home and asked if anything was needed. The Judge was snarling and Ellen was griping, they had both been right on the edge of climax and a phone ruined it. To make matters worse, he would not be able to justify staying out any later to try again. In the past, Daryl had many of such incidents due to his sister barging in after fiddling with the lock on his door and knew the frustration. It was fun to inflict that on someone such as those two. After the judge left, the camera shut off. The small netbook monitoring the home computer revealed that Ellen saved the video into a file and marked it with the Judge's name. Then it was backed up onto an external device.
Daryl used a mirror to watch her movements through the windows. Finally climbing up onto the roof to see into the bedroom. Ellen had a secret hiding place in the stool of her vanity table. He then saw her start texting. The message, when sent, showed up on his clone. It was a message to her lawyer stating that she now had leverage on the Judge to ensure any divorce hearing went her way. The lawyer told her she needed to visit his office in the morning and to wear something convenient. Daryl had to roll his eyes at that. Ellen replied that she would see him at Ten. Daryl watched her go to bed, turn out the lights and begin masturbating. That was his cue the night was over. He left as silently as he arrived.
The next day, Ellen paid no attention to the cyclist that passed her on street. She was too angry. All utilities and other services were suddenly off. To make it even more infuriating, it had happened while she was in the shower, shampooing her hair! Hair still damp, she was able to put on makeup and dress then leave. She would have to stop along the way for coffee.
Daryl rode past the house once, checking his scanner. No WiFi signal detected. He pulled in at a house for sale down the street and made his way back, using the roof tops. At the Dietrich house he leaned over the edge and saw no indicator for the motion sensor and went to a window. The contact detector revealed the alarm system was off. No power to the house. Carefully he finessed the window locks and opened it then went inside. With no power, not even the cellular back up for the alarm system worked. Without delay, Daryl went to the master bedroom and picked the lock on the vanity stool. Inside were a passport, several flash-drives, file folders, two phones, computer discs, digital recorders for audio and video and seven bundles of hundred dollar bills. Daryl went to work, he had no time to waste. Everything had to be copied or cloned. Only one thing could he take with him, the video of Walter. Daryl set out three netbooks and a laptop, each connected to a burn phone he had slaved to them. He had no idea how much time he actually had.
Ellen went into her attorney's office in a huff, slamming the door behind her and pulled off her dress. "Hurry up!"
Melton Felds stood up unzipping his pants. "In a mood Ellen? Good, me too!"
She climbed on top of him as he laid back on the couch and snarled. "The Judge didn't get me off, the batteries died in my vibe and on top of ALL that, everything got cut off at the fucking house while I was in the shower!"
Melton rolled over with her and thrust in. "Then I'll just have to fuck you like I hate you and you take it like the cock-craving slut you are."
It wasn't long, the secretary in the outer office put in her earbuds to drown them out. It wasn't anything new to her, though she couldn't stand either one. Not even three days after going to work for him, he tried to sexually harass her. Being new to him, didn't mean she was stupid. She had kept a digital record turned on every time he spoke with her and she caught it. Two threats kept him from ever doing so again. Sending the recording to the Bar Association and a visit from her husband, who happened to undefeated for the past two years on the amateur MMA circuit made her stance very clear. Leave her alone and pay her fairly.
Ellen lay back afterward and finally caught her breath. "What's going on with Walter and who did he meet?"
"He is not in the state and I have no idea." Melton replied as he lit a cigar.
Ellen sat up. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'YOU HAVE NO IDEA'?"
"Exactly what I said. I have no idea. My guy wasn't able to get a picture of her and the cafe doesn't have cameras he could pull footage from. He gave a composite and the search came up with nothing. She has no criminal record, no issued ID or passport. The staff at the cafe had never seen her before. Whoever she is, she's damned good. So good; she could completely disappear on a crowded sidewalk and nobody paid any attention." Melton said after a puff on the cigar.
Ellen used some tissues to wipe herself then looked over. "So? What's that supposed to mean?"
Melton glared at her. "That means she is some kind of professional. Sophisticated enough to go around to meetings in the daytime in public."
When she didn't get his implied meaning he leaned forward. "Professional. Sophisticated. Untraceable. Like; an assassin."
"An assassin? You think Walter would...." Ellen trailed off.
Melton puffed his cigar. "Put out a Hit on you? I wonder why he hadn't done that already. You rub everything in his face enough. If it all came to light, I doubt a jury would convict. Oh and you may have a divorce judge, but you don't have a criminal judge and you won't get one either. They don't play. You aren't that good of a lay or have enough money to buy one."
"I can get money. I can get into Walter's retirement portfolio." Ellen sneered.
"Yeah? Is it worth ten million?" Melton countered then added. "Of course that's just the deposit. To fight the appeals, two million per year after. Oh that's assuming you can find out who she is and buy her off, so you don't get killed first. That's also assuming she'd let you. Not many will switch like that. Bad for the reputation and all that."
Ellen dug her phone out of her purse and made a call then started making demands when it was answered. "Yes. This is Ellen Dietrich. My husband is preoccupied at the moment but wanted to know what the latest is with the retirement portfolio. What? What do you mean it's been liquidated? I demand to know who authorized that! Walter did?"
Ellen disconnected and almost threw the phone across the room.
"Obviously, he realized you might try getting to that and jumped first." Melton speculated.
Ellen swore. "Bastard started laughing! Said he had been told to tell me 'too late, you're cut off'. If he hadn't been so old I was scared it would kill him, I'd have tried getting him in the beginning. Two heart attacks and six bypass surgeries; the man barely risks anything that might be exciting."
Melton sighed. "I'll draw up the papers and file for your divorce in the morning. My guy is still trying to find him. Once he does, he serve him the papers."
"Fine!" Ellen huffed. "Now get over here."
Daryl had only started his work when he glanced over at the money again. If he took it, she would know. Still though, it was another resource she could use. How could he make it worthless? Then it hit him; by making it worthless! He used his own phone and made a call.
"Fitz. Hey, I'm in a rush. You still have that counterfeit money, the hundreds? How much do you have? Two hundred K? I'll buy seventy K for ten grand but I need it in half an hour. You have a drone right? Good. Use that." Daryl then gave the address, location of a good spot to park and his location in the building.
Thirty-five minutes later a drone hovered at the window with a box strapped underneath. The drone landed on the roof and Daryl quickly took out the fake money and stuck a bundle of real money inside. The drone took off and disappeared. Minutes later a message thanking him for the business came in as a text. Daryl put the stacks of counterfeit hundreds back into the stool along with everything else, except the video of Walter. He had checked for cloud service previously and only found business entries for Walter. If Ellen had any copies, they would be in real-space, probably with her lawyer. He finished up, made sure he was leaving no trace and left.
Brenda answered her phone. "Yes?"
"When you have dirt on a lawyer, how do you leverage it?" Dara asked.
Brenda almost held the phone to look at it, but answered. "I go to the Bar. They deal with them. It has to be pretty much spelled out though, so the attorney can't spin it. Why do you ask Dara? I thought you knew that."
"What about a judge?" Dara asked.
Brenda groaned. "Oh dear God Dara, what have you gotten into now?"
"Oh, probably the biggest sex scandal since Madame Fluffy's appointment book got delivered to the newspaper." Dara remarked casually.
Brenda wanted to lay her head on her desk. "Oh hell! You did that?"
"No. But it was really funny! I have a guess who did, but I won't tell since I have no proof." Dara giggled.
"GAH." Brenda responded. "Just how bad?"
"Poor guy can't get a divorce attorney she hasn't fucked in the city. She has Melton Felds and she slept with the hubby's attorney. If she isn't sleeping with them, she's friends with them and now she has the Judge in her bed too. The upside is, she got them all on video with audio and there are timestamps in the video." Dara informed her.
"Melton Felds?" Brenda asked.
Dara replied. "Yep. I can put up some money for one of your office people to watch for him down at the clerk's office, but it has to be cash."
"Jenny just found out she's pregnant, so she needs the money. She just needs to watch for him and if possible, hear what he's filing?" Brenda asked.
Dara answered. "Yes. Three grand. Front steps of the courthouse at eight tomorrow, a purple bike messenger will hand-off deliver. Tell her to wear bright blue. Pay and instructions in envelope. Can you find out who Felds' P.I. is?"
"Oh I can tell you. It's a guy named Herman Stanfield." Brenda said.
"Stanfield? Where do I know that name from?" Dara asked.
Brenda sighed in disgust. "He's a low-life. He used to be a cop, but got kicked off the force for trying to extort some underage working girls. He didn't know the State had a sting going at the same time to try catching their trafficker. The department couldn't cover that up, neither could the A.D.A. It was state level and the A.G. wasn't happy. Stanfield is real bottom feeder. Be careful around him. He has nothing to lose."
"Everybody has something to lose Brenda. You know that." Dara reminded and disconnected.
Brenda cradled the receiver and sighed. "Except you Dara. You can drop everything, run, never look back and not have a second thought about it."
That night Dara crouched outside Melton Felds' office watching a small monitor. She had managed to sneak in a small drone only two inches by two inches like a small car when a courier came by to make a delivery. It was able to be positioned to see the alarm system keypad. Melton had been the last to leave. An hour later Dara, in all black form-fitting spandex and balaclava, picked the lock on the door and slipped inside. Melton's code was entered and the system turned off. Dara had been impressed, he used a twelve digit. Now she owned the office but wasted no time. First was the file room. She pulled Ellen's file and read while making copies.
Dara searched the rest of the files. In Melton's actual office she searched his private cabinet. Ellen had a second file in there that was thicker. What looked like an inventory was in there with entries of names and numbers. None of the files were numbered which made Dara stop and think. What could they be? Thinking it better to stay moving, she resumed searching the room and found a safe in the floor under the desk. It took an hour a half to manipulate the lock, but only because the lock was loud enough to be heard perfectly by the audio of the netbook's audio software. It was an update to the old classic technique; listening to the tell-tale clicks of the tumblers.
The safe opened and there was a rising rack that could be lifted up. The rack held plastic bins on the shelves. In one were a collection of flash-drives. They were numbered. Dara retrieved Ellen's file and checked the inventory. It matched. It clicked now. The flash-drives were her insurance policy against any that would try to fight back against her influence. Dara took them all then also pulled the inventory page of the file. Doing so would tip her hand, but it would cause considerable mayhem. Now she turned her attention to Felds' computer itself and the external drives. Forty-seven minutes to crack his password, the guy actually took decent precautions against intrusion. There was cloud service and the same files were there.
Normally, when someone deletes items from a cloud service, they never ask if it can be recovered. It could, but the service charges you a hefty fee for that. However, for those very familiar with cloud service capabilities, there was a way to remotely delete items that could not be recovered without a full system shut-down and reconstruct. The problem with that was, it didn't always work. Dara worked for nearly twenty minutes and was amazed to be asked if she wanted to purge those files. Purge was altogether different. Not even with a reconstruct could the files be recovered. She smiled and launched it. Dara was closing the safe when she noticed something. There was an odd wire under the desktop. She traced it and found it running to the phone. In complete silence now, Dara all but tore the room apart. She found three cameras and two microphones. The phone was also tapped as well as hardware installed on the computer to monitor it.
'SHIT!' Dara mentally raged.
Dara was glad she had worn the face-covering now as she retrieved her mini-drone. However, it was beyond time to leave. She would have to be extremely wary as she left, others were watching. She re-entered the alarm code, went out and locked the door. With very deliberate movements, she left the building and immediately cleared the area. Dara even looped back on her travel to see if she was being followed then rode her racer through permanent camera traps she had set up. After another hour, she decided she had nobody following her and went home. The shop would have to be closed for the day while she rested and worked her new acquisitions.
Melton Felds shook his head in disappointment. His investigator came up dry. Walter had cleared out of the town he was staying in and moved on. There were three towns within five hours of each other the man could stop in and stay for days before being found again. He had went to file the divorce papers first thing that morning, but now it was all on hold as Walter couldn't be served until found and there could be no legal ruling for two years minimum without doing so. Ellen would have to actually file a Missing Person Report, which would bring all her own activities to light and ruin any chances of getting a ruling in her own favor.
Walter had found a pawn shop in the first town with a very sympathetic owner. Walter had said the magic word; divorce. The shop owner quickly agreed to give him fair price for the jewelry, including the very watch he wore. That set Walter up to move around for a while. He didn't know why it popped into his head to switch towns after one night, but he did, going further and further across the state. It seemed like the thing to do, so he did. For now though, he had found an efficiency apartment cheap. He then signed up with a temp agency to do unskilled labor and they got him a job working on a construction site as a laborer. It wasn't rocket science, nor comfortable work, but they were paying him a fair wage and not asking questions. That was enough for him for the time being. The best part, they didn't even bother with his references.
Daryl finished eating a salad and sat down at the computer. All the flash-drives had been the back-up copies of Ellen's sex videos. Her insurance policy. He pulled up the picture he had taken of the ones she kept at home and smiled. He had been so focused, he missed the obvious. They were all identical in appearance. He called a friend with a computer service and asked if he carried the same flash-drives in stock. The answer was yes and even had more than enough for Daryl. Daryl took an hour and half to go purchase the drives and back at his house, used pictures of each one to copy the written numbers on them. Including Walter's. Just for fun, he loaded them with enough Off-the-wall Indie music to seem like serious data was on them.
Ellen's text messages revealed she had opted to stay in a hotel for the night. That would make it easy enough to swap out those drives. She hadn't gotten into the counterfeit money yet apparently. Pity, it would simplify things more. Possession of such a large amount of counterfeit currency would take her out of the picture. Felds not having any of the videos anymore would negate anything else she could think of to save herself. A glance at the picture of the undisturbed contents reminded Daryl of the passport as well. It too was a resource that should neutralized.
"Hmmm.. maybe you should become Russian, Ellen. Maybe Elena, da? Elena sounds right for you, blagodarya." Dara said in a Russian accent.
With that she dug into her collection of ghost passports and found one for Russia. A picture online was able to be added and now Ellen had a Russian passport proclaiming her to be a woman from Moscow named Elena Todokova. There was just one catch, Elena Todokova was wanted by the Moscow Police in connection to a Prostitution and blackmail ring. Dara went to dress in the stealth riding apparel again and rode off on the bike. Dara wanted to shake her head. Sure, leaving all that evidence there helped, but she wondered just how the woman had gotten away with all this so long with such a monumental blunder.
An hour and a half later, the flash-drives and passport had been switched. As far as Dara knew, she now had all the evidence. There were none online anymore. As she turned onto the main street and switched on her riding lights it hit. The lawyer. Walter's lawyer. The guy was too easy to change sides. Something had to be wrong with him. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible to search his office at the time. It would have to wait til the following night. the day wouldn't be wasted though, there was still the judge to deal with. He needed to be out of the picture before anybody made the docket.
Daryl sent his packets of information with the video of the judge out first thing the next morning. It would be a two-pronged attack. One packet was going to the Attorney General and the other to the state's Bar Association. It was very tempting to send a duplicate to his wife, but that wouldn't have the desired results. With that accomplished, he began to look into the lawyer for Walter. It didn't take long to find bad news. The lawyer had gone to the same high school as Ellen. Things went further downhill. In law school; he not only went to the same college as Felds, they were in the same fraternity. They interned for different firms at one time, for the same firm another time. They went to work for the same firm after graduating. That was when things became interesting. The firm dissolved a year later.
Daryl dug deeper into Dark Nets and found out why. The Senior partners were both involved with a sex scandal. The woman was one Ellen Atkinson. Atkinson was Ellen Dietrich's maiden name.
Daryl sat back and sighed. "Now I see how this started, but I don't understand how they got to where they are now. Walter is just a regular guy working a 9 to 5. What's the end-game?"
Suddenly Daryl grabbed the inventory sheet and started looking at the names then began searching them. There he hit pay-dirt. It was the lovers that were the real targets. They were almost all married and well-to-do. The ones not married were not so high-up but appeared to be on the fast-track for upward movement.
"They aren't really blackmailing Walter, it's these other guys! Walter is just there for appearance, no. Walter's company has some kind of connections to the companies these guys are with. He's interacted with them socially. HE'S THE INVITE! Damn why didn't I see this sooner?" Daryl exclaimed.
Now it all made sense. Walter's company was needed by the others. He attended social functions, to which Ellen would be along and she would meet the executives. Those executives would then be targeted, seduced then blackmailed by the two lawyers and they made sure that any mistakes she made, couldn't be exploited. If the blackmail ran out, either of the lawyers would represent the wife in divorce and therefore be able to 'earn' part of the divorce settlement.
"I have to get into the other lawyer's office, tonight!" Daryl snarled then got up to get ready.
It took seven hours after the office was locked for Daryl to re-emerge from inside. He had waited an hour before going in. He made sure to check for any out-going video feeds and neutralized it with a ten minute loop. He came out with a bigger haul than he had from Felds' office. Edward Wilton even had dirt on Felds, just in case. The funny part, it was a double-edge sword. It all incriminated him as well. Daryl now had it all. Including some very shocking things about Ellen that Felds hadn't known about. The State Attorney General was about to get a rather large box.
A week later, things came crashing down. Melton Felds, Edward Wilton and Ellen Dietrich were arrested by State Police. Judge Brahmski was stunned when Marshals entered his court and halted the case in progress then arrested him, for Judicial Misconduct. Walter was easily found and summoned by the State Prosecution. He gave his testimony without flinching. The Defense team wanted to crawl into a hole after hearing it. There was no way they wanted him on the stand, for anything. In fact, with all the overwhelming evidence, the three scrambled to make plea-deals only to find themselves being slammed instead. None had anything to deal with that the Prosecution team didn't already know about. The worst of all, it had made National news.
Walter walked along the garden path and stopped as the red-head turned around to greet him.
"Hello Walter." Becky greeted.
Walter nodded back. "Hi Becky. I guess it's all over now?"
"Yes. It was quite the mess. I believe you have certain questions though, yes?" Becky asked as they began to walk along the path.
Walter sighed. "I don't even know which to ask first."
Becky frowned. "Such is no surprise Walter. Ellen became a horrid creature back in Middle School. It seems that her principal was a pedophile. Her grades had become below standard and she would not promote. She exchanged her virginity for passing grades. In High School she befriended your lawyer. They began to work together, exploiting the student body and teachers for their own gains. From grades to money, nothing was off limits to them. Edward was the brains, Ellen was the means."
"That had me coming and going, didn't they?" Walter asked.
Becky continued. "During High School, there was an incident. Ellen was arrested for solicitation. She was sixteen and therefore the records were sealed. Somehow, Edward had a copy of those records. She was diagnosed as a sex addict also. Their 'relationship' continued through Edward's college years. That was when Melton entered their partnership. Some details become rather foggy, but it is possible that they tried to blackmail Edward and Melton's professors. It was unsuccessful, professors are more cautious than practicing attorneys of such things. There was a botched attempt to overtake a law firm there after they graduated. That made them relocate here and they started over. It was pure chance you entered their scene."
"What made them pick me?" Walter asked.
"At one time, you were being groomed for higher promotion. You met Ellen and married her. However, nepotism took place and you were passed over in favor of a relative. Not that he didn't have the proper skill and training, but you had seniority with the company. Time in the trenches so to speak. He got the promotion, you were given a raise and stock-options. From a financial stand-point, you received the better end. Unfortunately; Edward, Ellen and Melton wanted more than you were in-line for. You became the pass-key to others for them to exploit." Becky explained.
"Oh." Walter frowned. "The Attorney General didn't seem to want to tell me much of anything. Just said that I could go and handed me divorce papers that were finalized."
Becky nodded. "He understood that you had been duped and were being exploited. Melton will be spending the next twenty years in prison on a variety of charges. Edward will be spending a longer time, about seventy from what I understood, but may be paroled in forty. If he survives. I've heard that the judge was brought up on corruption charges. Turns out, it wasn't the first time he...enjoyed liberties...with ladies going through proceedings. He will spend some time in prison and never practice law again."
Walter gave Becky a sad look. "And Ellen?"
"I'm afraid she will spend the rest of her natural life in prison Walter. She tried to seduce her guards, the prosecutor, the judge. Even the transport drivers. Finally she lashed out in frustration and attacked guards with a broken toothbrush. She will never see freedom Walter. Please try to find a way to put her behind you." Becky tried to console him.
Walter sighed. "Well, a construction company I worked for ended up needing somebody in their office. I had the skills so they made me an offer. I guess I'll tell them yes."
Becky gave him an encouraging smile. "A fresh start wouldn't be a bad thing Walter. Make the most of the opportunity."
"Well, they did keep my name out of the news. I guess I could make a fresh start. Thank you Becky Sharp, thank you for everything." Walter said and shook hands with her then turned to go.
"Make a new life Walter, try to enjoy it." Becky said then continued down the path alone, singing softly to herself. "That's how it goes. Everybody knows."
To be continued.....
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Matt Kimbleson looked up with fear in his eyes. "Please! I didn't do anything! I have a family!"
"You saw us." A cold voice answered
Another voice agreed. "Yeah. Whatever you told the cops won't do any good, they won't come near us. Somebody else though, might. So we just take you out; problem solved."
Matt shook his head. "I didn't go to the police, I don't want to be involved!"
"And you won't be." The first voice said.
A muffled report was heard then a thump as Matt's lifeless body slumped to the floor followed by a second.
"One for you, one for me. That'll show our new boss we handle business." One of the voices said.
The cold voice replied. "Yeah, pro-style. We even got proof. Let's bail."
Hours later screams were heard and soon after, sirens.
Brett Kimbleson stood over his father's grave then turned to leave as he said quietly. "I'll get them, Dad. I swear it!"
Brett liked gadgets. Especially drones. That little bit of irony had come in handy, in a way. His newest one had saat on a shelf in the living room. The drone had been left switched on, including the camera. That camera streamed all it saw to his tablet which was saved. Brett had their faces, he had their voices. Unfortunately, that was all he had. Suspecting the statement about the police not investigating to be true, he needed other means. The problem was, he had no idea who. Sure, there was a guy that would beat somebody up for you if you paid him, but he couldn't handle guys that kill. Brett walked idly, with no direction, lost in thoughts until he finally looked up. He was in front of the Hobby shop he went to for drone components.
"Brett?" A girl called out as he walked in.
Brett looked over. "Hey Sally. 'S up?"
"Kind of what I was going to ask. You're in a suit. Your Dad's funeral?" Sally asked.
Brett nodded. "Yeah."
Sally came from around the counter and hugged him. "Sorry Brett. I would've come, but I can't close the shop and the owner is out of town."
Brett nodded in understanding. He was fifteen and Sally was nineteen, but that didn't stop him from having a bit of a crush on her. She was smart, pretty and liked drones and other radio controlled toys as much as he did. She even built some and competed. In his eyes, she was the perfect girl.
"It's ok. Somebody has to be here for all us gadget-rats." Brett commented.
Sally pointed at him. "Hey now! I'm just as much a gadget-rat as the rest of you so don't give me that. Tell you what, Fly-buy."
"Yeah, ok." Brett replied.
She went back around to her purse and pulled a couple of dollars and handed them to him. Fly-buy; he'd 'fly', as in go get, and she'd 'buy'. In this case, something to drink. He went two doors down and came back with a bottled green tea for her and a soda for himself. After a few minutes the store was empty. Sally made the most of it.
"So how are you?" Sally asked. "I mean really."
Brett let his real anger show. "I want those two guys so bad Sally. In a way; I want to go to the cops, but in another way I don't. They'd just sit in jail picking up street-cred, you know?"
Sally nodded. "Yeah. Criminals respect being criminal. The more street credit they have, the better off they are. Look, I know you want these guys to pay, but don't go to Joey. He can handle school-stuff, but this is out of his league. He's only seventeen, he can't go up against guys with guns."
"I know. I wish I knew somebody hardcore." Brett admitted.
Sally sat thinking. "Mister Tam might. He had a problem with a gang once."
Brett shrugged. "Maybe. It wouldn't hurt to ask."
With that Brett left. He walked down the sidewalk several blocks to an asian restaraunt and went inside. He went to the noodle shop often, it was quick and cheap to eat there. Money saved to buy more components. Keiko Tam smiled at him.
"Brett-kun! How you?" She asked in a heavy accent.
Brett had to smile back, she was a nice lady all the time. "Hi Mrs. Tam, Konichiwa."
"Konichiwa! Soba?" Keiko asked.
Brett nodded, he was suddenly hungry. "Hai."
The order was called out and a few minutes later Hiro Tam brought it out and set it down in front of him.
"Brett-kun. Daijobu?" Hiro asked.
Brett shook his head. "Not really Mister Tam. My Dad's funeral was today."
Hiro nodded sadly. "Hai. Kimbleson-san good man. You like him. Be good man Brett-kun."
"Not so easy with the guys that killed him getting away with it." Brett replied quietly. "Cops can't do anything."
Hiro patted his shoulder. "You good son Brett-kun. Kimbleson-san proud. I saw."
Brett leaned closer. "They just killed him Mister Tam. Nobody would do anything to them, but they killed him anyway. He didn't even go to the cops and they still killed him. It was fun for them! How am I supposed to let that go?"
Hiro picked up his meal and nodded. "Come."
Brett followed him to the back and sat down at the table in the kitchen with him. Hiro went into a room and came back with something his hand.
"Take Brett-kun." Hiro said offering a small card.
Brett looked at the card and looked up. "How is an advertising service going to help me?"
Hiro took the candle-lighter off the table and held the flame below the card, waving it back and forth. Brett watched in growing shock as the card changed in front of him. The blue card and gold letting changed to a black card with red lettering. A simple email address was all.
"Help, Brett-kun." Hiro said then pointed to the food and said something in Japanese then bowed and went back to cooking.
Brett had heard of business cards that were disguised. Dangerous people used them to hide who they are and what they do. At least, that's what he'd heard. Quickly he ate, bowed to Mister Tam and left. Down the street he stopped and used his phone to send an email. Maybe this person could help. Three hours later, a message was in his inbox. An hour later, he stood over his father's grave again.
"Buon pomeriggio giovanotto." A smooth voice said from behind.
Brett turned around and saw a well dressed man standing there. "Hello."
The man nodded to the grave. "Your Papa?"
"Yeah." Brett answered.
"Scusa, signore." The man said to the grave then kissed his fingers and touched his forehead, chest and both shoulders before turning to Brett and gestured him to step away. "Let us talk."
Brett walked away and joined him. "Are you Italian?"
"Si. You are Brett, no?" The man asked.
Brett nodded. "Brett Kimbleson. I asked for help. Can you help me?"
"Such is possible Brett. You may call me Marco. Marco Venier." Marco replied.
Brett wasted no time. "My Dad was murdered. By these two guys."
Marco looked to tablet and saw the two images. "I see. Why did this happen?"
"Dad accidentally saw them kill somebody. He ran. He was scared, so he didn't go to the cops or anybody. He thought if he did, they'd know who he was and come after him. They found him anyway. Mister, he was scared and I don't blame him. He didn't want anything to do with it. They killed him for the fun of it." Brett explained.
Marco nodded. "Si. Tragic, but things like this; they do happen. Mie simpatie."
"Guys like that, even if they do get caught and go to jail, all it does is make them more important. Makes them look cool. I hate that. I hate them." Brett said. "They shouldn't get away with it."
Marco looked at him. "And you? What is it you want? Giustizia? O vendetta?"
Brett shook his head. "I don't know what you said."
"You want justice, or revenge?" Marco asked then said flatly. "Neither come cheaply. Capire? You understand this?"
Brett nodded. "Yes sir. I'm starting to think I don't have the kind of money you want now."
Marco said nothing which made Brett believe that it was more than obvious that he knew that already.
"We're screwed." Brett surmised.
Marco was looking in the distance. "Perhaps no. It is possible that an agreement can be met."
"Would it be legal?" Brett asked.
Marco nodded. "Si. You like the remote control, si? You can build them?"
Brett blinked. "Yeah. I build and race them. Why?"
"Sometimes, I need them. For work. Not all of them do so well. I lose them, they break. Something you would know." Marco said.
Brett nodded. "Yeah. It happens a lot. The more durable they are, the heavier they are and that's not a good thing for drones that fly."
"We make an agreement. Man to Man. On honor and your father's soul. I provide the parts, you make them for me. You do this, say until you go to college and that will be my payment. You will take this oath, over your father?" Marco asked.
Brett agreed quickly. "Yeah! I can do that!"
Marco held up his hand. "Not so fast. I mean all of it. This is very serious. Il Patriarca. You are the man of the home now, no? Signor Kimbleson? Such oath is not light."
Brett followed back over to his father's grave.
"You must swear, on your honor and your father's soul; you will help me with my work as I have said, You must care for your family as Il Patriarca and you must make the future by going to college. This is your oath as a man. Do you swear to this for the revenge of your father?" Marco asked.
Brett nodded with all the conviction he had and said the words that couldn't be taken back. "I swear it. On honor and my Dad's soul, I'll do it. All of it, for revenge!"
Once again Marco kissed his fingertips and crossed himself. "Then, by God, we have this agreement."
Brett wasn't Catholic, but did the same. "Yes. By God, we do. Can you do it Mister Marco?"
Marco nodded as he transferred the pictures to his phone. "Si. I am Italian, who knows vendetta better than we Signor Kimbelson?"
As Brett watched him go, he said to his father's grave. "I'm sorry Dad. It's gotta be this way."
Daryl sighed as he climbed onto the tram and thought to himself. 'Good thing that kid wasn't paying attention earlier. He'd have seen both those idiots at the burial.'
Daryl had hacked the cemetery's camera system before going. When Brett showed him the images on the tablet, he remembered seeing the two men entering casually and watching from a distance. It was a stupid thing to do, going to the funeral of a victim. Stupid for them, helpful to him. He could get into the cameras surrounding and track them. He did feel for the kid. After all, in a way, he could relate. However, revenge came with a price. Someone always paid. The kid needed to learn that too. Nothing ever came free.
Now wearing shorts and a tank, Dara brought up her computer and loaded the two pictures. In a matter of minutes she had them. Both were over legal age and had rap sheets dating back to when they were teens. Some of it was sealed, but the rest wasn't. Mostly misdemeanors: disturbing the peace, vandalism, minor assaults, muggings, some controlled substances, breaking and entering, trespassing. Basically they were street-soldiers in the making. Working their way up to joining a syndicate. The fact that they had now killed meant a major move. Possible an entrance display, a test to see if they could serve a syndicate without reservation.
Dara got up. Some information could only be gathered on the streets themselves. She changed into her pink riding gear and brought out a pink and white hybrid racer. Hybrid racers had the same frame style and gears as road racers. The differences were alloy frames instead of carbon fiber, the wheels were slightly wider and the handlebars were flat like mountain bikes. Hybrid racers were mostly used by couriers in the city as they could handle more abuse than a road racer yet were lighter and faster than mountain bikes.
"Hey Shiftie!" A guy on a blue and gold Hybrid racer greeted the pink clad girl that swooped in behind him.
Dara shifted gears and 'danced' to power around him, picking up speed. "You gonna move that slow jumble of parts, Rumble?"
Rumble shifted gears and stood to 'dance' as well. "OH, don't go bad mouthing my ride Shiftie! It's ON! Hilda's house!"
The two began racing in earnest then. They weaved in and out through the car traffic. Onto sidewalks, down alleys and sliding rails to go down steps. Rumble laughed to see Shiftie do that by simply sitting the rail, side-saddle style, to slide down. One of the best racers he'd ever met, but never let you forget she was a girl doing it. It was like watching parkour performed on bikes. The independent street couriers were the best at it.
Rumble gawked as she managed to slip around him at the last second, kiss her fingers and lightly brush the statue Saint Hildegard in front of Our Lady of Truth cathedral, locally referred to as Saint Hilda's. The statue of the Benedictine Abbess was a frequently used finish line for the couriers and parkour runners. Because of that, the couriers began the habit of whomever lost, had to use the water from their bottle to 'wash her feet'. At first the clerics there were appalled, then saw it as something done as reverence and penance, also prayer. Parkour runners would buy a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine to use.
Rumble slowed down and circled around the statue then stopped to dismount. He took his bottle and stood in front of the statue, crossed himself then knelt to gently wash the statue's feet by hand with the water from his bottle. Dara had circled around as well and waited for him to finish then walked over, bowed her head then kissed her fingers and touched the statue's hands again.
"What do you want to know Shiftie?" Rumble asked as he picked up his bike.
Dara took a drink from her bottle then offered it to him. "Two guys. Desmond Johnson and Michael Rocheter."
"Not the brightest crayons in the box. What they don't have in smarts, they make up for being hard-headed. Word is, they made audition." Rumble answered after drinking and passed the bottle back.
Dara sipped then asked. "Who and what?"
Rumble leaned back. "Street says they took out an Avenger. Story goes, this kid kicks a cat. Cat dies, little girl cries. Avenger hears little girl and kicks kid a field goal. Kid runs and bawls to Daddy. Daddy's a mid-level. Dee-jo and Rocket've been asking for a slot. Mid-level gives them the nod. So they give a stomp-down, no more Avenger."
"More?" Dara asked.
Rumble shrugged. "So said; some Brady saw the stomp and bolted. They found and took him out too. Dunno about that."
Avengers were street-level revenge-brokers. Mostly tit-for-tat and small-scale. A Brady was just some regular person. However, now a syndicate was involved. The targets were now inducted. Killing the Avenger had been their ticket in, audition. Kimbleson was an add-on. They had killed him to go that extra-mile to show how serious they were to the syndicate.
Dara asked. "So who'd they audition for?"
"Leo Turney, with the Scaniatta bunch." Rumble replied. "You working Shiftie?"
Dara nodded. "Yeah. Account."
"Oh." Rumble replied.
Dara stood up. Rumble believed she was merely an info-broker and was gathering information for an anonymous client that she only knew by an account number that she was paid through. An illusion she wanted to maintain and dropped a small packet of money into his lap.
"Need to do something about that bike, that was embarrassing." Dara smirked and went over to her bike.
"If somebody's lookin' for those two; they can be found at Skinny's." Rumble stated then added. "Don't bad-mouth my ride."
Dara laughed and rode away. It was an old joke. Rumble's bike only looked bad. In truth, it was one of the most expensive bikes ridden by street couriers. He just had no talent when it came to painting. In fact, some of the parts had been bought from Daryl's shop. Rumble had commented there was a resemblance between Daryl and Shiftie, but accepted the dismissive story of there being doubles. Even laughing when Daryl complained, that in all the world his double turned out to be female, citing chronic bad luck.
The last bit was helpful. Skinny's was a back alley bar. The clientele was criminals and wannabe criminals. All low-end. The kind of place that swept out teeth once per week, because doing it every night was too much like actual work. You had to watch the drinks being poured, or risk being drugged then robbed and beaten. Once a year some street girl would come in desperate for money and waitress for a night or two. She would usually end up being gang-raped and never go back. The owner had been in with neo-nazis at one time and therefore kept his head shaved clean. The common assumption was that it was why he and the bar was called Skinny. Actually, his last name was Skinnard and that was why. Nobody remembered his first name, nor cared. To the world, he was Skinny and his favorite thing to do was beating down anyone not Caucasian, hetero and stronger than himself.
Back in front off her computer system, Dara brought up the two's files.
"So. You want to be big time? Ok. You're big time now." Dara mused aloud. "That's where you went wrong. You two are going to have to go down, but it won't be enough. You belong to a syndicate now, so going alone isn't an option for you anymore."
Dara now knew exactly what she had to do for Brett's revenge. Some drones would be needed, he could start earning immediately. A box of components and instructions was made up. It would be sent out the next morning. Tonight, Daryl would track the targets. He changed into long pants and jersey of a black and grey pattern and rode out. It was after midnight when they finally came into sight, heading for Skinny's. Daryl used a blowgun to stick a pin to the jacket of one. The pin was a tracker. It would only last for six hours, sending out a signal every twenty minutes. At Four in the morning, the signal came from the same location for a second time. They were stationary.
Daryl followed and stopped two blocks away. The two were in an older building on the Eastern side of town. Daryl managed to get on top of building a block away and sent up a micro-drone that would home in on the signal due in five minutes. Hovering around the top of the building, the small drone was silent and unnoticeable. When the signal came in, the drone went for it. Daryl looked at the screen in confusion. The drone hovered above the mechanical room on the roof. It was where ventilation works were. No windows, only one door. Finally Daryl rolled his eyes and recalled the drone.
"Those two are squatting in the mechanical room. They probably broke in and nobody knows about them. They use the damned fire escape to come and go." Daryl realized.
This was not good. Such a place was unsecure and very noisy. Daryl needed them in a reliable place so he could work more effectively. They needed to be somewhere quieter he could hear them talk. He sent a second drone over that had a better battery and cellular transmitter. The drone landed in a spot it wouldn't be noticed and focused its camera on the door. It also had a motion sensor as well. It would transmit a stream, but also send a signal for any motion detected. That being done, Daryl left. He would have to rig something together to 'smoke them out' and deny further access.
Rocket and DeeJo left the mechanical room just after Two in the afternoon. As usual, they were looking for easy prey to target for money for at least a meal. A sneaky punch at a young man coming out of a coffee shop yielded a wallet holding almost a hundred dollars in cash and some cards. The cards were useless to them, but the cash was kept. They had a meal from a take-away stand then shook-down the counter-worker. Another hundred and fifty to their pool. The two would have done the same to a dealer for some of their preferred recreational powder, but he was armed and jumpy.
As they turned into the alley beside the building they were squatting, they noticed something wrong. The fire escape ladder was up. In fact, it was now out of reach unless they had a ladder to get them high enough to grab the bottom rung to pull it down. The ratcheting noise of a shotgun chambering a shell got their attention and they looked behind them.
"So, YOU TWO are the punks that have been hiding up on the roof!" A middle-aged man with a shotgun snarled then whistled loudly.
Three more men joined him, all armed in some fashion. He went over and butt-stroked the two. While they were down, he searched their pockets and came up with only sixty dollars.
"This goes to RENT." He said and pocketed the money then waved the barrel of the gun. "Best not come back, unless you have money and ready to sign papers."
DeeJo spit to the side and made to move against the building supervisor. "YEAH? SEE 'BOUT THAT!"
The shotgun went off a few inches from his ear, deafening and disorienting him. A punch followed and DeeJo went down.
The Super jacked in a new shell and growled at Rocket. "You?"
Rocket grabbed DeeJo's jacket collar and pulled him away. "Watch your back, Darkie."
Unknown to any of them, Daryl used the blowgun again, lodging the tracker on DeeJo this time. He was unaware of the impact of a dart hitting his leather jacket. Two hours later, they mugged some patrons coming out of a sports bar then shook down another food take-out stand for a meal and cash. They now made their way to the waterfront. There they entered one of the 'hotels' that hadn't been part of the gentrification movement. Basically, a flophouse for seedy-types such as themselves. Daryl smirked in satisfaction. This was exactly what he had hoped for. From the roof of a warehouse three blocks away he controlled four drones to search the windows of the upper floors of the derelict hotel and found them on the third floor, back side.
The drones were recalled and new one sent out to land on the windowsill. It had a hyper-mic that could listen in through the window. Meanwhile, he used his laptop to search for the building's blueprints. He needed the schematics for the ventilation ducts. Once those were found and saved, he transferred to the roof of the neighboring building and crossed over via a rope. A smaller drone fed a cable with camera and mic down to the vent he wanted. Daryl hard-connected the transmitter to the electrical for the HVAC system. Daryl was finished and out of the area by Four in the morning.
Brett finished assembling the last of the drones, wrapped in bubble-wrap and packed it into the box then took off the latex gloves. "Last one! Now for homework."
Everyone had been surprised with Brett's new attitude. He had thrown himself into his studies. He asked more questions in class, making sure that he was understanding the material without doubt. Homework was being turned in, completed. Tests were ranking scores to rival the students who favored the subjects. Brett almost ran to each class. The care-free attitude had been replaced, now it was like he was possessed. Or more accurately, obsessed. The teen seemed to be in pursuit of high grades more than any of his previous interests. In fact, he completely cut off from friends. Turning curt, and almost rude towards anything not related to academics. Neither Brett, nor his teachers, knew that there was someone else monitoring his performance results.
Over at D's Wheels; Daryl listened to the conversation at the flophouse while he adjusted the spokes of a rim.
"Man! My dick is throbbin'. Let's hit the Poker Run." DeeJo suggested.
Rocket replied. "No way. The good ones are still down. They won't come out until tonight. The only ones there are the skags that flush their pussies with Drain-Free 'cause they don't care if you don't wear a rubber. Nothin' but skanks right now and we need cash. Used all we had to get this place for a week. I'm gonna hit the shower then we need to go out and hit up some cash for grub. You need to clean up too. Leo said we could help his guys tonight and he'd pay us. Remember?"
"He gonna make us start wearing suits and shit like his other guys?" DeeJo asked.
"If we keep proving we can handle shit. Having a real place, slick gear and a clean bitch that looks good; that's livin' man. No more grubbin' and putting on two rubbers to nail some skank that smells like a boot in July against a wall? Hell yeah. We gotta handle shit, pro-style." Rocket stated.
"Yeah. Guess we should clean up some. What time we gotta be there?" DeeJo asked.
Rocket was opening the door. "Leo said the truck rolls in at 9 sharp. We should get there half hour before, to look good. I'm gonna try to find a razor and some soap. This is the real deal. Back in a minute."
Daryl had stopped while listening and now resumed adjusting the spokes. "Truck, huh? Wonder what's coming in or going out."
Twenty minutes later; Dara rode away on a night-bike. She hid in an alley after sticking a small camera at the end to watch the front of the flophouse. When Rocket and DeeJo came out she watched them turn to head down the street, away from her position. Dara rode out of the alley, snatching the camera off the wall and tucking it away. Two blocks later she was ahead of them and tagged with another tracker as they passed. Now she could stay on them from a distance again. When the tracker remained stationary for five minutes, she moved in.
Rocket and DeeJo stood in front of a building, casually smoking. Dara was able to get up on a roof at the end of the block and scout. She saw two men settling into a position of observation on the building at the street corner just down from the one her targets were at.
"Lookouts. Not bad. How smart are they though?" Dara muttered to herself.
Cameras to watch both ends of the street were set up then Dara sent up a small drone. It was almost silent and had a nightvision camera. She hovered a distance away from the lookouts and used the camera. They were fairly smart, using nightvision goggles to search for opposing observation. However, without thermal capability, they could not see her through the wall she was hiding behind. The drone was recalled and second sent over that dropped off a wheeled version that had a camera and microphone on the occupied roof. The drone landed in the alley beside the target building and another wheeled spy was deployed.
Dara focused on moving her wheeled drone along the edge of the building to stop at the bottom of the steps in a shadow. Now she waited and watched the split screen as she listened to the two channels of audio. Ten minutes later she heard the lookouts announce that the area was clear. It was obvious they were using Bluetooth connections to their cellphones on a conference call. Two cars pulled up to park across the street from the building and seven men joined the two thugs. One of them men gave them the classic street-handshake then shoulder bump with back-pat. Dara smirked. She knew it wasn't a real greeting, much less friendly. He was checking the two for electronics and weapons. The ironic part, the back-pat actually dislodged the tracking dart.
Over the microphone she heard a truck was expected to arrive any moment. The truck was to be unloaded and the boxes stored in the building. No pilfering would be tolerated and the two would be checked when done to ensure of that. Another car pulled in to park and a man got out of the front passenger seat, looking up and down the street then nodded to the lead man across the street. A box-truck drove up and stopped. Two men got out and went to the back. The door was opened and the leadman climbed inside. A box was pulled at random and he climbed out then cut the tape on the box. Packages of powder were inside. He nodded to the car-man who knocked on the back window then opened the door.
Dara recognized Leo from his mugshots. He carried a briefcase and went over to the truck. The case was opened and he showed it to the two truck drivers. He pulled a small kit from the case and sampled some of the powder while the money was verified. All was in order and both parties said so. The local crew began unloading the boxes and taking them inside the building after it was unlocked.
For several minutes the truck was unloaded then Dara heard the leadman give the two a warning that got her undivided attention.
"Don't get any funny ideas later. The whole place is wired. Every window and door has a shotgun and a pipe-bomb on it. Open it and you're a stain. Cameras too. So we'll know it was you." The leadman warned Rocket and DeeJo.
Rocket nodded. "We're cool."
The unloading continued until the truck was empty and drove away. Leo turned to Rocket and Deejo and pulled a considerable packet of bills from his pocket.
"Fast and quiet, I like that." Leo pulled off a some of the notes and handed them to each.
Rocket shoved the money in his pocket fast. "No problem Mister Turney, we'll work."
"You name it, we're all over it." DeeJo seconded.
Leo looked them over. "That's good. The only problem is; standards. Guys working for me are sharp and look it."
Rocket replied quick. "Yes Sir. We got it. New gear. We'll do that."
"Look pro, be pro." DeeJo added his understanding.
Leo gave them a shark-like grin. "Catch on quick. Tomorrow night, at Ten, be here."
Dara watched them disperse and ten minutes after the observation team departed, moved all her remotes to a location to be retrieved. She wanted to go in and determine exactly Leo was moving, but the counter-measures were deterring that. An idea occurred though. A cruel and very appealing idea. She was going to be very busy for a while.
During the day, Hobo Joe checked into the flophouse. He was able to sneak into Rocket and DeeJo's room while they were in the shower and implant microtransmitter with camera and microphone sets into the used suit jackets they bought first thing that morning. The hard part had been making them waterproof yet still undetectable to a physical search. Electronic search was easy to defeat, they could be turned off and on remotely. The battery pack would last thirty hours. A remote controlled sprayer of anesthetic gas was hidden in the ceiling to spray into the room. Timing had been critical. Hobo Joe was able to get back into his room and close the door, just as Rocket and DeeJo could be heard in the hallway, coming back from the communal bathroom.
Inside their room, Rocket chuckled. "We're scrubbed up, puttin' on some gear, got a week paid on this place. Hell, we can even go to a place and sit down to eat for the rest of the week!"
"Yeah. And we got more work for tonight!" DeeJo reminded.
Rocket punched him in the shoulder. "Was I RIGHT?"
Deejo swung back. "Yeah, yeah. You was right. Icing the Brady made the big difference."
"We wanna be big-time; we gotta show we can be pro. Make sure no probs. Handle our business. Look pro, act pro; get pro money." Rocket insisted. "Finish getting that on, we'll get somethin' to eat."
"Yeah." DeeJo agreed.
On the way out the door Rocket stated. "We pay to eat now. The Boss won't like us gettin' attention for knockin' over stands anymore."
Daryl waited five minutes, then snuck out. He put away Hobo Joe and tracked the pair. Hardly anyone paid attention to the obviously freelance courier sporting black and grey colors. A location was transmitted every one hundred seconds and audio/video came in a burst every ten minutes. Daryl made sure he used very strange frequency settings, that way no one would stumble across them except by the most extreme chance. It would take the latest government grade scanners to find his bugs. Anything less, was too great of a risk.
While the targets ate in a restaurant, Daryl used his small laptop to search for information in the stash building. The records of ownership traced back to a holding company that had gone bankrupt two years prior and the utilities were under a false identity; a retiree in another state. City Planning had a blueprint dated twenty years prior. Essentially, to find out more about the building, he would have to scan it remotely then digitally recreate it. It would take time.
That night Daryl waited until an hour after the crew left to begin. A heavier drone was needed and would be spotted by observers. Slowly he moved it up the front of the building ten feet per scan. Like taking an x-ray or MRI(Magnetic Resonance Imaging) scan. Five times he had to recall the drone to change batteries then withdraw. For three more nights he did this.
"Well. One thing is for sure. These guys aren't playing around." Dara said aloud looking at the digital wire frame of the building.
The scans revealed the henchman's warning to be true. Each window and door had been booby-trapped with a shotgun and a pipe-bomb. They were all tied to a central alarm style system. If the connection was broken; instead of loudspeakers blaring and lights flashing, the shotgun would be triggered. Should intruders not be deterred by that, a pressure-mat would detonate the pipe-bomb. Two feet long, ten inches of PVC pipe filled with a charge of some kind and packed with metallic debris. There was one concealed beneath the sill of each window and one on the ceiling just inside every external door. Every floor had seven cameras as well. Four facing out through windows, two in the hallway and one at the landing in the stairwell. A camera looked out the peep-hole of the external doors and four cameras looked down from each corner of the roof with overlapping views.
Dara looked at the image and didn't like it. The building was secure, but something else was bothering her. It could be penetrated. They had to know that. If someone wanted in bad enough, a way would be found and exploited.
"Those guys were entirely too confident they'd always know who would hit them. No matter what, they'd know. How? By the time the cameras saw anybody, they'd have already concealed their identity. All the cameras look out." Dara mused to herself then stopped. It hit right after the words were said. "The cameras look OUT! They have cameras looking AT the building too!"
The following night Daryl used a drone with high resolution camera and a signal scanner to check adjacent buildings. None set off the scanner, and he saw nothing out of the ordinary on the structures or looking out the windows. As he flew to another building, the scanner spiked. The drone had overflown a streetlight. The drone was made to orbit above the light and arm. The signal was there. A wireless camera was mounted on top of the light itself and looked to be hardwired to it for power. Quickly the drone checked each streetlight and found three more cameras, all using bluetooth transmitters.
Daryl smiled. "Gotcha!"
After acquiring the signal he recorded ten minutes of feed then sent out drones with signal jammers to land on the lights. Once the feed was jammed he began transmitting his loop from a distance. On top of the neighboring building Daryl used a rope and grapple to cross over on to the roof. He checked for laser tripwires before crossing over and had seen none. Now he began the search for an entry point. There was a door, but it was the same as all other exterior doors; camera, shotgun and pipe-bomb.
Using a fiber-optic camera in the vent of the mechanical room revealed the same on both the door and the vent. There was a ray of hope though. The roof of the mechanical room was clear. He climbed on top and used a drill with a long Titanium split-tip Twist bit to test the thickness. Daryl was surprised. The roof was merely corrugated metal coated with asphalt and gravel. He would be able to cut through with only a reciprocating saw. That was the upside. The downside was that he had neither the tool nor time. Also he would need asphalt patch compound. He did have time to use the fiber optic camera to really inspect the interior of the room.
The next night Daryl was back. Once he was safely on the roof off the mechanical room, he ceased jamming the street cameras. Five minutes with the saw and he had removed a square of the roof on the high corner large enough to fit through. A rope was dropped down through the hole for getting back up. First a backpack was lowered down then he slid down inside. There were no motion detectors inside, just the booby-traps and camera on the door. Daryl checked the vent and after finding no counter-measures, opened it. Goggles with special lenses did not reveal any lasers inside so he dropped another rope down the main shaft and began to slowly rappel down. His light weight was held easily by the metal duct-work and he crawled through the ducts of the first floor.
Success came from what looked like an office in a room at the back of the building. It was small and had no windows, only a door leading into the hall. Inside though were several boxes mounted on the wall. Boxes that had key locks. The kind used by freelance security system installers and do-it-yourselfers. Best of all; no cameras monitoring the room, just access through the door.
Daryl picked the locks and began inspecting. He was impressed.
"Nasty. Anytime the building is accessed, three phones get an alert along with picture of the person opening the door. RFID keyfob to initiate a thirty second delay to get to the code panel inside the front door. Laser tripwires at the stairwell doorways and elevator shaft. Surprised they didn't cover the duct-work too." Daryl remarked.
He was about to switch the system off and noticed something. An orange wire leading away at the bottom of the switch. He traced it and glared at its connection.
"You guys are starting to irritate me." Daryl said coldly.
The wire was a counter-measure. Turn off the system and it activated a second system that sent out an alert and a sixty second timer to all the explosives. He disconnected the wire at the switch itself then turned off the system. Now he owned the building. Floor by floor, room by room, he searched. All outer rooms had a picture of an empty room spanning the width. Inside the rooms it looked like a police evidence warehouse. Drugs on the top two floors, guns and ammunition on the Third floor, money and drug processing rooms on the Second floor. The First floor was the fortress. Behind the murals were metal and concrete barricades with firing ports. The barricades went from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. They seemed to be sealed air-tight. In the basement was the biggest surprise. An escape hatch.
Inspection of the escape passage revealed it had been made exclusive for the building. No connections at all to any utility services at all. It was also wired with a charge that would collapse the tunnel ten feet from the building hatch to prevent pursuit.
"This is way too elaborate for mid-level. Somebody gave this guy an education in hardcore paranoia." Daryl commented. "You can't buy this working know-how. He knows somebody that isn't supposed to be running around on their own."
Daryl began placing his own cameras and mics then went back to the central system. Slowly and methodically he manipulated countermeasures onto it for his own use. Finally came the last part, the RFID. He found the precise codes and made note. One could clone them if they could get close enough to a chip, however it was far better to get the whole series from the system. Multiple chips could be made then. Especially the Master chip. Some systems were vulnerable and new codes could be added. This wasn't the case. Daryl would have to work with the codes in it. The sun finally began to peek over the horizon as Daryl returned home.
For a week and a half Daryl worked his systems, sneaking in and replacing the transmitter packs' batteries for the two thugs. In the background, two latex masks were being made and suits hung on hangers. The most dangerous parts were soon to come. Daryl perused his special list, people that could and would do things for him. Mostly for a price. One name topped the criteria's list. Daryl put on a dark suit and wig after sending a message.
Cam Dalten looked around when he felt the hairs on the back of neck stand up. Something dangerous was now close. A soft footfall caught his attention and he looked to the source. A man in a dark suit edged around a pillar.
"Sergei?" Cam asked.
The Russian nodded and replied. "Glad you make time."
Slowly Sergei reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope then held it out. He made a point to keep both hands visible and movements were slow.
"You on the job Sergei?" Cam asked cautiously taking the envelope then stepped back.
Sergei nodded. "Da. You?"
"Nothing time critical." Cam replied then quickly checked the envelope and counted out five-thousand dollars in cash. "Five K. Just to meet and talk?"
"Call, consult fee. You have time?" Sergei asked.
Cam put the envelope in his pocket. "Ok. Consulting fee. Proceed."
"One man. Ten hour. Must imitate. Imitation is American. Appearance I provide. We make deal?" Sergei asked.
Cam mulled that over. "Just impersonate? Hot or cold target?"
"Hot. Live target. I have sample." The Russian replied.
"Do I have a connection and will they need to be neutralized?" Cam asked.
"Street-soldiers for Leo Turney. I need them alive." Sergei stated.
That caught Cam's attention. "Them? I do one or both?"
"One. I will be other." Sergei grinned then spoke in an American accent. "No sweat. Deal?"
"Ten hours?" Cam mused then said. "One hundred thousand. If I end up having to neutralize, for any reason, it goes to five hundred thousand. Deal?"
Sergei nodded. "Da."
Cam stepped forward for the handshake. "Deal then."
Sergei shook hands. "Good, Chameleon."
"This should be interesting; working on the Puppeteer crew." The assassin commented then left.
Sergei felt inside his jacket cuff and pulled the microbug out.
He smirked and dropped it on the ground. "Quite so, Herr Dalten. Gute nacht, kamerad."
Daryl left with smile, knowing that his voice had been heard clearly by the transmitter. More confusion to sow. The meeting had went just as he wanted. The Chameleon was an expert at imitation and impersonation, but only of males. He could manage to sound like any male for limited time, if he had a good voice sample. With the voice sample, mask and clothes, he could convince anyone he was actually that person for a short time. The nail in the coffin would be that it was going to be on camera. Surveillance cameras.
Argument could always be made over manipulated video recordings. However those arguments would never come up if the manipulation came from the actual events being recorded instead of recorded events. Raw video would always reign supreme. It could take up to a year to create minutes of video digitally. However, creating an event or manipulating an actual event could be done in short time and yielded far superior results. This was now the plan.
Cam was given the sample recordings and within two days he had the speech and body patterns down. He could perfectly impersonate DeeJo for up to two hours of speech and 6 hours of non-verbal interaction. Daryl compiled all the video and audio from Rocket and Deejo then added a video of himself as Rocket and Cam as Deejo implanting the surveillance equipment into their suit jackets. Pay dirt came two days later. A delivery was coming in again. The two were going to be unloading.
The Detective from the State Police Narcotics division wanted to shake his head as he turned on the room's camera and mics then went in. Two obvious punks, in cheap suits, noted him with contempt sneers.
Detective Dave Glaass sat down. "Give me a good reason why I should bother with you two wannabes?"
Rocket snarled. "Leo Turney."
"Untouchable." Glaass remarked.
"We can give 'im to ya." Deejo laughed.
Rocket nodded. "Yeah. But we ain't doin' it f' free. It's gonna cost."
Glaass rolled his eyes. "Right."
"We want his territory and action. We got the word on you. You know how to make our kinda deal." Rocket said smugly.
Glaass was puzzled for a moment then it hit. They thought he was dirty. He had pulled a case for Internal Affairs a few years back, pretending to be on the take to infiltrate a corrupt vice squad in a different county. This now made things different. He could play dirty cop and end up taking down all sides at once. The punk was right, it would take a certain kind of deal. The kind Dave Glaass knew how to work.
"Yeah. I can make a special kind of deal. Let's talk." Dave Glaass leaned forward.
An hour and half later the two walked out, Dave looked to the cameras a minute later and said. "Apparently my time working undercover for Internal Affairs still has a use. I am going to convince those two that I am corrupt and exploit that mindset of being able to help them secure criminal activity currently underway. I am not going to extend any kind of offer of immunity to them. They have made it undeniably clear that they have committed capital crimes and have every intention of continuing and even escalating. I will hearby contact the State Attorney General with this case."
With that he dialed on his cellphone, putting it on speaker and informing that the call was being recorded and official.
Rocket felt groggy and heard a grunt. He looked over to see Deejo slowly stirring then realized he was sitting in the driver's seat of a vehicle.
"Wha' happumed?" Deejo groaned.
Rocket rubbed his face to try clearing the fog in his head and wake up. "Dunno. We're in a truck."
On the seat next to him was a piece of note paper and a flashdrive.
Glaass
parking lot; Poplar and Donoterase
don't forget drive for deal
It was his writing, but he didn't remember writing it. He did know where the location was. He shook his head one last time, lit up a cigarette and started the truck. Twenty minutes of driving later he pulled into a parking lot. A single car was there so he parked next to it.
"You're late. I've been here for an hour." The man said when they got out.
Rocket assumed the man was Glaass and replied. "Sorry Glaass. Here."
Detective Glaass took the offered flashdrive then said. "Ok. Open the truck."
Rocket and Deejo went to the back and opened it. It was packed floor to ceiling with boxes that looked very familiar. Like the ones they had unloaded last night into the stash building for Leo Turney.
Glaass pulled a box, opened it and pulled out a wrapped packet. He used his pocket knife to poke into it and withdraw a white powder. Rocket and Deejo watched him tap the powder into a test kit and react to the chemicals. It turned a very dark blue. From what they had seen before, it meant the powder was the highest quality, practically pure.
"You two sure this hasn't been stepped on?" Glaass asked suspiciously.
Deejo went full gangster. "WHAT? You think we'd have anything less than top-grade? Who do you think we are? We dealin' or not?"
Glaass smirked when Deejo held out his hand for a shake.
The Detective shook hands then snapped a set of cuffs on his wrist. "Oh we're dealin' alright!"
Suddenly it seemed like over fifty cops were all over them. They were read their Miranda Rights and shoved into separate cars. Rocket looked out the window and to his horror saw a car stop half a block away and Leo Turney get out. He looked beyond furious. Rocket now realized that whatever was going on, wasn't good for him and Deejo.
Two of the cops were talking outside the car Deejo was in. He could hear them talking and thought his brain was going to melt.
"These guys are seriously stupid." Cop One remarked and lit a cigarette then held out his lighter for the other.
Cop Two took a couple of puffs then blew out a stream of smoke. "They helped unload the shit ito Turney's stash house, then go back to steal enough to fill the truck and call in a tip on the stash house."
"Yeah, but they 'conveniently forget' to warn about the booby-traps. Lost four good cops. One to the shotgun blast and three more from the explosion." A third cop said, walking up.
"Johnson didn't make it?" Cop One asked sadly.
Cop Three shook his head and spit to the side. "Just came in. They lost him on the way to surgery. Him and Carol just had their first kid a week ago. He wasn't supposed to roll, but he said he wouldn't leave the team hangin and went anyway."
Deejo saw them turn to glare at him. He was so confused, nothing was making any sense to him. He hoped somehow Mister Turney could bail him and Rocket out. Even if they had to go on the run afterward.
It was odd to have two suspects in the same Interrogation room, but this was one of those times it was a good idea. The Attorney General walked in.
"I demand my clients be released, immediately." The attorney snarled.
Arnold Hastings glared back. "Not happening. Your clients are fried. The deal they thought was going to happen; won't."
"What deal? We didn't make no deals with no cops!" Deejo spat.
Arnold gave a feral smile then turned on a monitor. For over an hour the two and their attorney sat dumbstruck as a video played. Rocket and Deejo sat there listing all of their crimes and that they had been wired to record it after their second task for Leo Turney. The only two things not admitted to were the two murders. they then went into detail as what they intended to do, why and what their offer to the detective was in exchange for being released as informers. Then they went further to explain their plans for afterward and what they would do for the Detective for making sure they stayed out of any further investigations.
A.G. Hastings turned it off. "All that. That's enough to slam the cell shut. BUT WAIT! There's MORE!"
Rocket and Deejo saw the flashdrive he held up then plugged into the monitor. "It was nice of you to inventory your crimes, but you left some out. Capital crimes. Murder in the First."
A file was selected. A video began to play. It was the murder of Kimbleson. It even had Rocket 'pick up the camera' with a grin. Two shots to the head in his own home, pleading for his life. If the previous video nailed the coffin shut, this one buried it in cement under a toxic waste dump. Even if they wanted to, they had nothing to deal with now. What was worse, they knew it.
"See you at the trial." Hastings smirked and walked out, he had a bigger fish to gut and fry down the hall.
Leo Turney sat seething as the Attorney General walked.
"Leo! Sorry it took SO LONG to get to you." Hastings said dramatically.
Leo's attorney didn't waste a moment. "You have nothing."
Arnold held up a flashdrive, different from the one he had in the other room. "On the contrary, I have PLENTY! Going away for a LONG time Leo."
"Not falling for that." Leo said.
Arnold plugged the drive in and brought up a file on the monitor. It was a feed from the cameras in the building.
"Those cameras were always watching Leo. There you are walking in, then DIRECTLY supervising the processing of narcotics. This is just one of such videos. You really messed up and now I get to finally hang your ass!" Arnold Hastings gloated.
Christmas had truly come early again for Arnold Hastings.
A subtle signal was exchanged between client and attorney, who then spoke up. "My client may be inclined to negotiate."
"There is no way in Hell he's getting off. Best offer; protected custody in a facility out of state. For Life. Otherwise, right here and he gets the needle." Hastings snarled.
All three in room knew that wasn't the best deal, it would be the only deal ever offered. The gangster would have to give up everything he had to get it too. It now came down to two choices; did Leo Turney want to live for a while longer or die immediately?
Slowly Leo spoke. "I'll take a deal."
Rocket and Deejo entered separate cells nervously. They were hoping word hadn't hit yet of what they had done. Hope for naught. All eyes glared at them. However no one made a move toward them. They went untouched, but were fully aware that they had been labeled as rats. What didn't make sense was that it seemed that somebody had given an order that all obeyed. Finally one whisper was overheard by Rocket, an order from Leo Turney. The two were to be untouched until they went to the Federal Prison. The word had come down; they were to serve their full sentences without death or permanent harm. Until the final day. During their final night, they were to be murdered. Until then, they were to be used by any and all for whatever suited the strong.
In the chow hall Deejo asked. "Really? That's gonna happen?"
Rocket just nodded silently. He still didn't understand where everything went all wrong for them. From what he could understand, he and Deejo tried to make a deal with who they thought was a dirty cop to set up Leo and take over his territory and action. All that had happened was, they had hung themselves instead. That night he tried to do just that, but the other prisoners refused to let him finish. they let him strangle long enough to think he would succeed, then saved him from it. They laughed cruelly and reminded him he wasn't getting out things so easily or gently. After that was cellblock suicide watch,only instead of guards, it was the inmates. They weren't kind about it either. The two were looking at a very long and harsh Twenty-Five to Thirty. Even though the Judge stated 'Without Parole', it went without reaction. Many already knew they wouldn't survive Final Night.
Brett stood over his father's grave again and turned to see the Italian walking up.
"Buongiorno signore Venier." Brett greeted.
Marco nodded back. "Ea voi signore. You are learning Italiano?"
"Si Signore Venier. I have a new respect for culture. The language, the food, the people." Brett hedged then added. "One day I would like to visit there."
Marco nodded. "Perhaps after the college you might visit Roma. You would be able to stand in Saint Peter's and declare you have fulfilled you honor, no?"
"By God; I will, Signore. I will do exactly that. A man of word. A man of deed. A man of honor." Brett stated then crossed himself in the catholic fashion.
Marco asked. "Has the Kimbleson family revenge come to pass Il Patriarca?"
Brett had read enough Italian literature by now to know this was as official as it ever would be. Had Marco upheld the terms of the deal to Brett's satisfaction?
"Si. Yes. We are avenged and satisfied. Our lives can go forward now. Thank you Sir. Grazie di cuore, Signore Venier. I will continue to redeem my debt without reminder." Brett stated as he crossed himself again.
The Italian nodded then cross himself as well. "Sotto gli occhi di Dio per tutti e due. Both of us, under God's eyes, Signore Brett Kimbleson."
Brett nodded back. "Si, Signore Marco. I do have one question."
"Prego." Marco replied.
"I was offered a settlement through the Attorney General. I accepted. May I offer you some of it?" Brett asked.
Marco sighed. "Under other circumstances I would accept. However this time I cannot. Such money is watched signore and you would have to explain a large amount. That would put us both in a bad position and worse, undo all that has been done. I do strongly advise that you should entrust that to a reputable manager, use it to pay for your college. Your sister's as well. What is left; to your mother's comfort, as a good son should. Più piacevole? More agreeable?"
"Yes. Thank you for that advice. I'll do that. Ciao Signore." Brett said.
Marco placed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. "Ciao, Don Kimbleson. Be sure to study for Signorina Westin's Biology quiz, on Friday."
Brett stood in shock as the Italian left. Apparently God wasn't the only eyes watching him. After a moment of thought, he decided he could be comfortable with that. Knowing the man was watching would remind him not to slack off.
"No. I'll stay on it. I made a deal. I have a debt. Not just him." Brett said then looked to the headstone of his father's grave. "I owe you too, Dad. A good man pays his debts, you were a good man. I will be too."
Brett kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the top of the stone then left. He had studying to do.
Dara had shed the disguise of Marco Venier and was now clad in purple and white riding gear, astride a road racer of similar color-scheme. Casually she rode the Green-way and pulled off at wide spot to drink from her bottle. Several couriers passing in both directions nodded to the blonde. An obvious sport rider looked over as he passed and gave a grin.
"Oh? Challenge; accepted." Dara said sweetly and kicked off to begin racing with a smile. "I'll take the right challenge. Everybody knows."
tbc...
People go about their lives in their own way. Some believe the world is against them. Some believe the world is their's. But when your world has been destroyed, what would you do? What would you pay, to get some part of it back. What would you pay, to balance those scales? At what price; love? Safety? Sanity? Justice? At what price; Revenge? *Warning- Does contain hyper-violence* |
Tabitha Darby sat with tears streaming down her face. Her computer had started pinging for her KnowMe page account. The latest social media platform was geared for teens. Being fifteen, Tabitha had an account. Her Bulletin Board had the usual postings; favorite songs, pictures of herself and with friends doing the expected activities. She also had snippets of improvised poems and musings. Typical teen cyber-litter.
For the past three hours though, instead of the usual chatter, she had been getting messages. People were trying to post on her Bulletin Board. The problem was what they were trying to post. None of it was either flattering or kind. The first post took her by surprise. A video clip. It was of her and a boy. His face was concealed due to the camera angle, over his shoulder, but her own was undeniable. What was happening was also undeniable. Sex. The thing that made it odd though, was her minimal response. Her eyes were closed and she wasn't making any sounds usually associated with sex. In fact, the only response from her couldn't be determined to be either arousal or discomfort. Another other oddity was seemly like three separate boys were trading off taking her. A hat worn backwards and faces turned away increased their identity concealment, but it was clear more than one male to be involved.
There were three serious problems with the video on her page. The first; she was under-age for such video to even exist. Secondly; she had been a virgin and hadn't wanted to have sex at all. Third, and lastly, she didn't remember any of it happening. Only having pain and deducing it had been from having it taken from her. Waking up and not being able to control herself brought on a panic. Even two hours later, when she was able to stumble into a hospital emergency room, the panic hadn't subsided. The inital assessment: rape. Two hours later it was official. Blood toxicology revealed GHB. Other news was both good and bad. The good; she was not ovulating. The bad; her rapist had an STD. Chlamydiae was the most common and easily treated of sexually transmitted diseases.
Because Tabitha was a minor and had been drugged for rape, a rush had been put on her kit. Unfortunately the results were negative. Her rapist's DNA profile was not in the system previously. Her mother had picked her up from the hospital and drove her to the police department. Now she sat home with bottle of antibiotic tablets, card for a rape counselor and a constant stream of messages and attempted postings on her page. She was being called a slut and a whore. She had been able to remove the video from her own page, but to her horror, discovered it had been posted on several other pages. Pages she had no control over. People she went to school with, but weren't friends and therefore no sympathy.
"What do I do?" Tabitha sobbed.
Abby, her mother, snatched up the phone beside her and called the police. It was Two in the morning when the doorbell rang and a detective called to announce himself.
"Myself and the A.D.A. Aguillar visited each person that had the video of your daughter on their page. They all knew she was under-age as she attends the same school and did not report it to us; they've been charged with child-pornography along with harassment. We'll get an injunction for the web-service, but it'll have to be in the morning. The problem is, the account that posted the video was created just before the posting and used an anonymous email service. It'll take time, but it is possible that we may not be able to find them using the hosting companies. Even if they are U.S. based. I'm sorry; it's all we have for now." Detective Ray Vaughan said sadly.
Across the room, the computer continued to ping incoming messages. Hector Aguillar could see the animosity building in the mother and look of hopelessness in the girl.
"You aren't going to like this, but I have to say it. Tabitha; please shut down your social media accounts. All of them. Get a new email address and set the spam filters to divert all but your contacts to the trash folder. Have only people you trust as contacts. Please don't think I'm uncaring. I do care. I will do everything I can. I'll go for all the law can give. I won't lie though, for you it may never seem to be enough." Hector told them sadly.
Tabitha sobbed. "Nothing? Nothing's going to happen?"
Hector knelt in front of her, held her hands gently. "Please. We will do all we can. I want to help you. I WILL help you. All I can. My cousin was attacked. She was younger than you. She survived. Became stronger. You can too. You have to fight it though. Don't let them win."
"How?" Tabitha sniffed.
Ray leaned forward. "You were given a card for a counselor?"
Abby nodded. "Claire Beaumont."
Hector patted Tabitha's hands. "I've met her. Claire's a very nice person. You'd think with a last name like Beaumont she'd be from the deep South, but actually she's from Rhode Island. She also understands you. Please call her. Claire can help you."
The next morning, Tabitha sat in a comfortable chair looking forlorn and suffering lack of sleep.
"Hector and Ray said I'd understand you. They weren't lying to you. I do understand you." Claire said softly. "I was raped once."
Tabitha looked up sadly. "You?"
"Yes. I was. In high school. Senior year, Homecoming night. A guy in the 'It Crowd' had a party after the dance. His family had money, of course, so he had a party place. He could also get alcohol. Lots of it. Simple story for me. He got me drunk and took me on the pool table. In front of everybody. If they hadn't kept forcing alcohol into me, they'd have actually gotten away with it. In fact, they almost killed me with alcohol poisoning. That was a mixed blessing. Because of that, an ambulance was called for me. He was able to plea-bargain and not go to jail at all. Pretty much a week later, nobody cared." Claire recounted.
"What did you do?" Tabitha asked.
Claire sighed. "Moved away to college, found a nice lady to talk about it with. Moved on. For a two years I pieced my life back together."
Tabitha looked at her. "Two years?"
"During my Junior year I got the shock of a lifetime. My rapist transferred in." Claire said flatly.
Tabitha clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. "No!"
"He did. Didn't take long to find out why. He'd gotten nailed for doing that at Ohio State. His grandfather shelled out a bucket of money to sweep it under the rug, but couldn't keep him there. His grades were acceptable and they never asked around so he got in. The only ones that could find out the real truth was a fraternity, but all they did was black-ball him and forbid him from coming to the house. Brotherhood thing; warning people about him was viewed as betraying the fraternity." Claire explained.
Tabitha looked defeated. "So nobody did anything."
Claire shook her head. "Not true. I did. I was in a sorority. One thing sororities have no problem sharing, are date-rape warnings. If you can prove it, they don't blow it off. I could, and did. Within an hour all sorority house had him on their list. Sororities have lists of guys to stay away from, most with pictures. He went to the top of those lists that night."
"That's good!" Tabitha said, hopeful again. "People knew, right?"
Claire sighed. "The sororities' girls knew. They didn't have to share."
Tabitha gave her a look of not comprehending that. In truth, she didn't.
"Sorority Black-listed boys don't get told why. Girls not in the sorority, if they find out a listing, rarely are told why. Most just assume cheating or something similar. Date-rape is still difficult to understand and not many girls think it could happen to them. Sororities don't share information like that with Fraternities unless there is some kind of official relationship. Nobody wants to give up inner-workings and secrets. Including secrets used to protect themselves or would destroy them. The one thing no sorority or fraternity wants is something that would revoke its charter. They will defend against that unless they can't stop it or find out it already happened. Then they do all they can to deal with it quietly or conceal it until any that could or would be affected are gone." Claire stated.
"Wasn't there anything that could be done? He could just go after other girls?" Tabitha asked.
Claire shrugged. "Some of the fraternities take warnings they find out about seriously. A few don't. It mostly depends on the chapter leadership. I couldn't just go to the campus police, he hadn't done anything to me there. What you know and what you can prove aren't always the same. People can change for the better. In many cases, unless they prove they haven't, you have to leave them alone. Criminals have rights. Unfortunately they know this and can often exploit those rights to continue on."
Claire knew that look of crushed in Tabitha's eyes and said. "I was lucky in choosing the college I did. They have a very active anti-rape group there. Women and very sympathetic men, taking courses for criminology and law, help. You don't find them, they find you. I was invited to tell them my story. I don't know what all they did, or how, but they were able to catch him two months later. He had joined a Frat that didn't pay attention to warnings or didn't know. They had regular parties and he was caught trying to rape a girl that was under-age and drugged. He had learned a new trick since me, sedatives. Once again, his family tried to cover up. This time they failed. He was convicted, as an adult this time, and went to prison. He wasn't well received, I heard."
Tabitha seemed glad. "It's good you got help. He didn't get away with it."
"And now I try to help others that it happens to. Like you." Claire reminded.
Tabitha told Claire her story. All she could remember and what she had learned since. Several times she broke down but managed to go on. When she finished, Claire didn't lie. She told her that hard days were ahead. Nights too. People she didn't know were going to treat her badly. Some would even blame her, saying that it was all her own fault.
That next day, Claire's words were prophetic. Obscenities were scrawled upon her locker, condoms had been stuffed inside. They weren't in their wrappers. Various people passed her in the halls muttering things just loud enough to be heard by her. Looks of contempt, disgust and sneers were everywhere she turned. Even the teachers seemed to want nothing to do with her, skipping her name during roll-call. In the afternoon she hid herself in a bathroom stall and was trying to gather some kind of composure. A few moments later it all came crashing down. Some girls had entered and began to gossip.
"Did you see that slut walking around?"
"Yeah. Can't believe she'd bother to come here after broadcasting what a whore she is. I mean, really! Plastering a fuck-video all over the place like that? Is she advertising or what?"
"Seriously! My boyfriend said that she had to be pulling trains to be so blah about it with the way the guy was going at her."
"She has to be so slack, a bat fits!" A girl spat in disgust.
Tabitha had both her hands over her mouth to hold in her sobs, how could they be saying all that about her? Her breaths from holding everything in were now coming fast and shallow. It started getting dim as the girls voices faded. The walls looked blurry and everything went black.
"Damn. Whoever it was, really did a number on her." An adult voice said.
Tabitha felt cold. She also felt wet. Her face felt tight and sore, as did her breasts, especially her nipples.
"She's coming around. Can you hear me?" A female adult voice asked.
Tabitha still felt light-headed. "What happened?"
That's when she understood she was naked and had some kind of liquid all over her. Her face felt tight and sore, as did her breasts, especially her nipples. That wasn't all. There was writing all over her body. Ink from markers. It took a minute for her vision to clear enough to see what was written and immediately fainted again. The nicest thing written on her was that she was a slut. When she woke up again, it was in her own bed. Her mother yelling and cursing at someone.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Darby; we just don't know who did it." A male voice said.
Abby screamed. "MY DAUGHTER WAS DRUGGED, RAPED AND INFECTED. ALL THAT BEING BAD ENOUGH, BUT THEN THEY POSTED IT ALL OVER SOCIAL MEDIA! NOBODY KNOWS WHO DID IT? MY ASS, MISTER FALLON! YOUR ENTIRE SCHOOL IS HIDING IT! PROTECTING THOSE ANIMALS THAT RAPED MY DAUGHTER! SHE WAS A VIRGIN, YOU INCOMPETENT SON-OF-A-BITCH! HOW DARE ANYBODY DO THIS TO HER AFTER THAT? I WANT THEM FOUND!"
"And just HOW do you suggest I do THAT, MRS. DARBY?" The Principal demanded hotly.
The voice that answered was absolutely cold. "I don't care. Find them. Or you will be regarded as the same as them. My lawyer is already on his way."
"Now see here!" Mr. Fallon protested.
"I DID SEE! EVERYBODY HAS SEEN! THEY SEEM TO THINK IT'S THE BEST THNG TO EVER HAPPEN AND WANT TO KEEP IT GOING! I WANT IT STOPPED! MY DAUGHTER DEFINITELY WANTS IT STOPPED! MAKE IT STOP!" Abby screamed then a slap was heard.
A moment later the front door slammed. Tabitha slowly got out of bed and cautiously went to the living room. Abby sat on the couch with her head in her hands sobbing now.
"Mom?" Tabitha asked hesitantly.
Abby looked up with tears streaming down her face then rushed over and grabbed her duaghter into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, baby! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have let you go this morning!"
The doorbell interrupted them. Abby sat Tabitha down the answered the door. It was her lawyer.
"Oh Mick! Thank you for coming!" Abby gushed.
The attorney nodded. "Calm down Abby. Start from the beginning."
Abby told him all she knew and when she was done he shook his head sadly.
"I'm so sorry. This is beyond horrible." Mick look over to Tabitha. "I'm sorry Tabitha. I think you need to go see your counselor. Tonight if you can. Do you have her emergency number?"
Tabitha nodded. "I think it's on her card Mister Mackensie."
"Just Mick sweetie. Go get the card, we'll call together, ok?" Mick said kindly.
Tabitha liked Glen Mackensie, Mick. An kindly, older man with grey hair and soft blue eyes, he always made kids feel like they should call him Grandpa. He had handled her mother's divorce and custody case. He, however, was more vicious than a pitbull when it came to kids. He checked both sides out, to be sure a child was going to be in the best care, no matter which parent that was. He absolutely forbid the use of children as weapons between bitter parents.
An hour and a half later Claire arrived and was informed of the latest events. She took Tabitha to her bedroom and sat down on the floor with her.
"I thought I'd be ok enough. Why Claire? I don't understand. Why'd they do all that to me? Why won't anybody tell who those guys were?" Tabitha sobbed.
Claire sighed. "So many don't care about victims, until they become one themself. I wish it were different, but it isn't."
Tabitha whimpered. "It's not right! I want it to go away. I want my life back. I want....I want...I want them to feel like this!"
Claire went still and had a far-away look in her eyes. "You want that? Do you really want that? Revenge?"
Tabitha nodded as she sobbed.
Slowly Claire reached into her blouse and pulled a card from her bra. A card she had been carrying everyday for a year and half. A card she had hoped never to give.
"Take this." Claire said holding the card out slowly. "If you use this; there's no going back. Flame will show you the way."
Claire got up numbly and went out. Beside her car, she threw up.
Tabitha looked at the card in her hand. How could a dog grooming service help her? She was still trying to understand when her mother and Mick came in.
"Claire said; flame will show me the way. I don't understand." Tabitha said and saw all the color drain from Mick's face.
Abby saw the look of abject horror on Mick's face. "Mick? What is it? What's going on?"
"Abby. Tabitha. As your attorney, I must advise you, I can not know anything. I can not be involved with any persons connected to a card such as that. That is a Black Card. A card disguised as an individual or business that is innocent, but in reality is not. To know the real nature of such a card, you must gently heat it with a flame. Whomever that card is for, is not in any way a legal avenue. I will do all I can, within the law. I cannot help you if you pursue means using that card." Mick said gravely. "This is where I leave you to decide. I'll be in my office in the morning with a standing appointment for you, if you do not use that card. Goodnight."
Abby led Tabitha into their living room and retrieved a box of matches. Carefully she waved the flame under the back of the card and within seconds, the blue and white card turned black with red print. An Email address was all that showed. Abby took it over to the computer and composed an email using an anonymous service then sent it. They woke up to find a reply. Simple instructions. They would be met at noon in a small park on the Eastern side of town.
Consulting a note-page they had copied instructions to, Mother and daughter walked through the small park. They stopped when they saw a hopscotch court drawn in various colored chalks. That was where they stopped. For several minutes they waited. Tabitha felt thirsty and went over to the water fountain. After drinking, she turned and saw a young woman stepping up to do the same. Tabitha moved aside for her. The young woman with long blonde hair, wearing a white, puffed, short-sleeved blouse and grey pleated skirt casually drank from the fountain then looked up.
"Spasibo, Tabitha." The young woman said in strong Russian accent but soft voice.
"You're wel.." Tabitha began to reply then stood there gaping.
Abby came over quickly, ready to protect her daughter from the stranger. "Who are you? How do you know her name?"
"She is Tabitha. You are Abigail. I am Katya Afonina. I meet you. Privet." Katya answered.
Abby looked her over and was immediately confused. The young woman before them looked at most nineteen or twenty years old. Wearing a white puffed short-sleeved blouse, grey pleated skirt to just above mid-thigh, black opaque thigh-high stockings and black low-heel pumps; she looked more like a late graduating private high school student than of a dangerous type. That and the fact they were meeting during broad daylight in a park next to a hopscotch court. Nothing seemed to match up to Mick's attitude on the matter.
Katya looked to Tabitha. "You were atakovan. Boys, they hurt you, da?"
"Yes. I was drugged and raped." Tabitha nodded sadly.
Katya sighed. "Ya ponimayu. Understand. Is very sad. It happen much, this thing."
"We were told you could help us, can you?" Abby asked, unsure why they were meeting this girl.
Katya locked eyes with Abby. "I can. Help is not free. There is cost. Always; there is cost. You can not help her. Tabitha must do; herself."
Abby felt a cold chill of dread climb her spine from the ominous words. Deep in Katya's eyes was a far-away look.
"Please, don't use my baby?" Abby pleaded.
Katya pointed past them. Next to a bench stood a pink and mint colored hybrid-racing bicycle and backpack. Tabitha went over and opened it. Inside she found two sets of riding clothes, matching the bike, along with a helmet. In the front pocket was a cellphone, pre-paid card and small envelope.
"A courier? You want me to be your courier?" Tabitha asked in puzzlement.
Katya shook her head. "You work for you. Money go to card. First of month, you send money. You do not break law. This you must do. Alone. Thirty-thousand. You will decide how long this take. You understand this?"
Tabitha nodded. "Yes."
"What is want Tabitha? Caught? Punish?" Katya's demeanor changed, to cold and harsh. "Revenge? Prinyat' resheniye. Choose."
Tabitha said the words that couldn't be taken back. "Revenge, Katya. I want; revenge!"
The look of absolute hatred was undisguised as Katya snarled and turned to go. "Da, Tabitha, you WILL have!"
Tabitha felt relief finally as Abby hugged her from behind. "Thank you, Katya."
Dara grabbed the bag she had concealed when she was out of sight. As she walked, it only took seconds to change her appearance. A short black haired wig covered her blonde hair. The blouse and skirt came off to reveal a deep purple Bodycon dress that covered her stockings' tops and the black low heels were switched to high purple stiletto pumps. Unless someone had been watching intently; a student girl disappeared, replaced by chic socialite or possible upscale escort.
An hour later, Daryl opened the bicycle shop. Between repairs on two bikes, he did another search with his laptop. The District Attorney had more information, but he couldn't get to it without his system at home. After closing that evening, he did exactly that. Leonard Cohen played in the background as Daryl searched through the District Attorney's system.
"Court Orders pending. That'll take time, even though they're classed High Priority due to her being a minor. Sorry Tabitha, those hosts are foreign, disguised as U.S.-based. Not even Interpol can help. Just me." Daryl sighed then began bringing the other parts of his system up to start hacking those hosts.
It took all night, but he came up with IP addresses that led to actual names. The email had been set up by a boy named Tobin Rosenthal. The social media account was a boy named Alvin Kuulidge. Searching their pages tied them to a third boy; John Delaney. Photos confirmed statements of unity. All that they did, was done together at all times. The three shared in all things important. Especially anything deemed fun.
"Musketeers, amigos or stooges? To be, or not to be? That; is the question." Daryl surmised as he got up from the chair.
A four hour nap and Daryl left. The green and black racing bike with matching apparel and helmet made him blend in with all the other serious riders in the early afternoon. At a glance, it merely looked like a typical rider. Cyclometer on one side of the handlebars, phone on the other. It was wrong though. The phone was actually a monitor for cameras mounted inside the head light and tail light. The cameras had a five power zoom for the back camera, but the forward camera had a nine power zoom.
Daryl stopped a block away from the school and waited. To anyone passing by; he appeared to be just another courier, watching video on his phone while waiting for his next run. The forward-looking camera was zoomed to the main entrance. It wasn't long, classes let out and students began streaming from the building. Daryl slightly turned the handlebars to focus on the doors. Fifteen minutes of patience were rewarded. Tobin, Alvin and John strolled out.
"And there you are." Daryl muttered and pushed off to follow.
Alvin asked. "Any word on latest toy?"
"Nope. Nobody's seen her since the day before yesterday." John replied. "Guess Loni and Chanelle's fun upset her."
Tobin chuckled. "Aww, some markers, piss and binder clips on her tits made her run off and hide."
"Well Loni did say that if they had a coke bottle they'd have checked how loose she was." John joked.
Alvin smirked. "Still don't know it was us?"
"They still don't know we did them too, over summer." Tobin laughed.
John shook his head, smiling. "Dumb sluts. Acting like they're any better than her. Maybe we'll go at them again, make a new video and post it."
"Can't be this weekend. Sheryl's lined up." Tobin informed them.
Alvin spit to the side. "Sheryl. Which one?"
John shook his head. "Dude! SHERYL. Pentecost Sheryl!"
"Vice-Principal's stuck-up little bitch." Alvin remarked. "About damn time. I want the pop."
Tobin grabbed Alvin's shoulder. "You got the pop last time, MY turn!"
"Yeah! And I get her ass first. You got it the time before. You get second on both this time!" John snarled.
Alvin glared back then stated. "Mouth. I'm going to make her choke a load."
"Fine." John remarked, followed by Tobin. "Whatever."
John grinned. "Let's not give her so much. She'll be more active, instead of just laying there."
"I'm taking the best trophy of all. To hell with her panties, I'm taking that 'Purity ring'!" Tobin smiled malevolently.
Alvin smirked. "Bitch won't be able to wear it after we get done anyway. Like it. Need to find two more after her."
John nodded as he laughed. "Yeah! Better yet, we get three each. We have two more years to do that, unless we want to stick around an extra year. Then we can all go to the same college and find new prizes."
"Cool!" Tobin laughed as well.
The three stopped at a take-out stand, buying cold drinks then sat on the edge of a planter to go over their plans for the up-coming Saturday night.
Daryl had stopped a hundred feet back and used a small hyper-mic to listen in. It wasn't easy, passing traffic drowned out their voices, but he was getting most of the conversation.
"These guys plan like a 3 year old with Attention Deficit and a bucket of legos." Daryl remarked.
The problem was that the three couldn't seem to decide exactly how they were going to actually drug their future victim. It seemed she had the vexing habit of only drinking water from a bottle that she insisted on opening whenever she was away from home. Daryl admired her cautious nature, it was a good counter-measure to spiked drinks. She also refused to consume jello that was not individually packaged and opened herself, which ruled out being slipped any made with alcohol as well.
"Somebody took that girl to school. Too bad more aren't that slick." Daryl muttered to himself then shut up completely to listen close.
John had been wrapping a spare straw around his fingers repeatedly throughout the conversation then suddenly blurted out. "Ice cream!"
"Don't want any." Alvin replied.
John shook his head. "No stupid, that's our answer. She likes ice cream. Even if it's wrapped, we can still do it. Won't have to though, we just crack open a container in front of her, she won't think about it since we'll give it to everybody."
From there they began to seriously plan. Done they way they wanted, it would be flawless. A second of distraction would be all they needed to pour the liquid drug onto the ice cream then conceal it under chocolate topping syrup. Within fifteen minutes she would start showing affects, another ten and she would be doomed. Raped, recorded and on display for all to see; just like Tabitha.
Daryl had no use for religion of any kind, in fact deemed them all to be of no worth, but it was no excuse to turn his back and allow the unwitting girl to be humiliated. No, he would try to save her from them. Partially. It was risky, but needed. His plan formed faster than theirs, the trick would be going unnoticed at the party. Selena would be attending in place of Katya or Dara. Daryl took out his phone and dialed. That conversation didn't last longer than two minutes.
Saturday night a girl with mousy brown-ish hair quietly slipped in through a side door of Alvin's house. She barely had a trace of make-up on and wore a knee-length faded denim skirt and plain looking polo shirt that looked half a size big. Slowly she wandered the edges of the rooms, the soles of her well-worn round-toe flats barely making a sound on the floors. Her below the shoulder-length hair didn't cover her face much, but didn't show it fully either. Anyone that bothered to look longer than a moment, ignored the cheap plastic stud earrings as well. Almost all of the other girls there wore a heel of some type and either a short dress or skirt.
Selena stayed moving, lingering in a spot would eventually cause someone to approach. Almost an hour later, a call went out about ice cream. Many moved to another room. Selena followed and brought up her phone as she took position to watch from the side. Her view was unobstructed and she zoomed in on the three boys' hands. A line moved past them after cracking open the two tubs of ice cream. In fact it looked like they had to force them open due to being new. Most of the line comprised girls, ice cream was an easily forgiven diet cheat.
Selena had spotted a group of four girls that fit the criteria of the night's target shortly after entering. It took only seconds to determine which one she was. One girl wore low heels, another dared to wear full make-up and a third had been gifted with a flattering bust size that she could only downplay if she wore a steel chest plate to hold them down. All three also wore their hair down and styled with waves or loose curls. The fourth girl stood out among them. Even trying to mute herself and look plain, she failed. Her waist length hair hung down in a single braid which did nothing but bring more attention to her face. Clean and fresh looking without a single blemish; her high cheekbones, slim nose and medium-full lips enhanced her soft jawline and widow's peak hairline.
A portrait perfect face diverted attention away from the figure concealed under a slightly loose fitted blouse buttoned to the neck and fine hands extending delicately from the cuffs of long sleeves. The waist of her skirt cinched lightly by a brown braided belt accented the single color denim skirt that skimmed the tops of her feet snugged into semi-round toe flats. Try as hard she might for the sake of a religion that would never help her, the girl could never be anything but the natural beauty she had been born to. Of course such a girl would be viewed as the ultimate prize.
As the girl moved up in the serving line, Selena zoomed closer on the second boy's hands. Subtly he pulled a vial from his pocket and held it in his hand and picked up a spoon. Thumbing the cap off as he took the bowl Alvin moved to stick the spoon into the bowl.
John held up two bottles of syrup, smiling. "Strawberry or chocolate, Sheryl?"
"Chocolate, please? Thank you." Sheryl replied politely.
All eyes had been on the bottles, not the bowl of ice cream. As the spoon was set into the front the vial was emptied onto both scoops. In truth, only two people had been watching Alvin's hands. Alvin and the girl unnoticed off to the side of the room, Selena. Immediately after that happened she zoomed back to capture the bowl's journey. John quickly poured the syrup from front to back, concealing the liquid as he took the bowl then handed it to Sheryl. There was no mistaking the actions and intended victim. The cold of the ice cream would semi-harden the syrup into a shell to add crunch. It would also confine the drug to remain on top of the scoop and be ingested in full.
Selena stopped recording after Sheryl took her first spoon of the laced dessert and made her own move. Deliberately she moved forward and slipped a gel-like capsule into each of the boys' drinks. The capsules dissolved immediately in the liquid, releasing a carefully measured dose of Lorazepam. Mainly sold under the name Ativan, the drug is a benzodiazepine and much more effective than the GHB drug they used on the girls. The dose they gave her would take twenty minutes. The dose Selena gave them would take effect in thirty, however it would hit them harder. Sheryl would be semi-lucid. She would be dimly aware of events as they happened, but nothing would be clear afterward. For them, they would have little to no comprehension of events and no recollection at all afterward.
Selena kept herself from smiling as they drank from their cups. After the last bowl was served, John directed Sheryl over to a chair beside the stairs then slightly moved his own chair forward and closer. Selena had to move to maintain her visual as she recorded him. She wondered why he had done that, as Sheryl's chair had its back directly against the wall. Unfortunately something was wrong. Either the dosage was more than expected or the girl had a very low tolerance and began to show affects just after another five minutes. When her head began to tilt down John glanced around then pushed against the wall and a small panel spun. Sheryl disappeared, chair and all without being seen by anyone but John and Selena.
Immediately John stood up and moved away. He rejoined Alvin and Tobin and pulled a small bottle from his pocket to pour into their cups. The three were all smiles as they drank the remains of the cups. Another shot was drank then they began to quietly usher people out. It took fifteen minutes for that to be done. Selena hid herself in the kitchen inside a cabinet. She knew the bathrooms would be checked for any stragglers as would the bedrooms and probably closets. Someone walked loudly through the kitchen and locked the exterior door then left. When she heard the group moving up the stairs, she eased out of the hiding place.
"Gonna has some funnnn." John said with a slur as he carried Sheryl by the arms up the stairs.
Tobin held her legs to help carry her, he stumbled on a tread and laughed as did John and Alvin. The two even dropped her at the top of the stairs and had to pick her up again. The girl had no resistance to the drug, but fortunately the boys' alcohol had accelerated their own doses. Apparently they had drank more after Selena hid as they were having serious problems executing their plans. Selena quietly moved up the stairs, her phone in hand and recording. At the top she followed their voices and noise down the hall to stop in front of a door, slightly ajar and looked inside.
"WOOO! FUN TIME!" Tobin laughed as he pulled off his shirt.
John and Alvin dragged the unconscious Sheryl onto the bed. Alvin broke the zipper of her skirt and yanked it down then tossed out of the way. John ripped open her blouse.
John swore. "What the shit? What's all this crap?"
"What?" Tobin drawled as he fumbled to turn on the camera.
"Lez geddit offa th' bish." Alvin slurred.
Instead of bare breasts or a simple bra containing them, she was wearing a nylon T-shirt garment over a slip. Beneath those she wore a rather old fashioned full coverage type bra. One might even jokingly refer to such as Industrial Strength. Her underwear were of a similar fashion. More like a pair of feminine jockey shorts and seemingly just as sturdy. It took John and Alvin cooperating to rip them from her. Due to the drug they had been given and the alcohol accelerating it, both fell to the floor. Unfortunately John had smacked his head against a dresser, dazing him.
Tobin adjusted the ball cap to sit backwards on his head then fumbled twice to grab her hand and pull the ring from it.
"Pur-ee. Not-nee-more!" Tobin called out, swaying, as he held up the ring so it would be seen by the camera.
Alvin slumped over. "hu-reE UP! uhm NEX!"
Tobin was now confused. The girl was on her back and naked enough, but he was having problems he didn't understand. Why wasn't he erect and why did things seem to be dimming and blurring? The answers never came. He fell forward and rolled off of her to sprawl alongside.
Selena slowly entered and looked to the side. She spotted the camera hooked up to a laptop. She turned it off then looked in the library. They were so brazen they had even titled the folder of videos: Sport Fucks. She checked to see if the password was active, finding that it was and turned it off. Now anyone could turn it on and access everything. While the laptop powered down, Selena used the boys shoelaces to secure them and went back downstairs. She reclaimed the backpack hidden under shrub by the back corner of the house.
Back inside, Selena stripped bare, including the wig and pulled clothing from the backpack. A black silk T-shirt, white fitted leather pants and jacket with gold spikes. Knee high black boots were pulled on, over the pant-legs and another wig of long black hair covered blonde then the colored contact lenses removed. Brown eyes were now bright blue. A bit of foundation and powder completed the look. He was beautiful. Stunning and frightening at the same time, just as the black angelic wings with gold trail-feathers painted ornately on the back of the jacket. He pulled the phone from the jacket pocket and hit a speed-dial entry.
"I'm ready. Back into the driveway and stop at the corner of the house. I'll be right out so open the back door." He instructed.
The beautifully foreboding figure grabbed Tobin under his arms and dragged him down the stairs then brought down the other two. A vehicle was heard stopping outside in the drive so he propped the door open and began carrying them out. After depositing them in the back of a van the door closed and he went back in. Sheryl was gathered up then set back down. A glimmer of something shiny had caught his attention. He bent down and picked it up. A ring. It wasn't particularly remarkable, simple sterling silver with a small clear gem. Likely a cubic zirconia. Commonly worn by virgin girls to formally declare their chastity, a Purity Ring.
"Fool girl. Waving virtue like a flag is nothing more than teasing bulls with capes. Eventually, the bull will run the matador down. His only hope is a sword to thrust in when the bull tires enough for the strike. The best way to guard a treasure, is for nobody to know you have one. Your vanity is your downfall. Worthy or not, I saved you from them, but I will not spare you from shame entirely." He growled gently, pocketed the ring and gathered her up again.
The van's driver turned and did a double-take then asked. "Where to, Gaderel?"
"First United Pentecostal Church, on Third avenue. After dropping the girl off there, take me to Infernus for them." Gaderel replied softly.
The driver said nothing more, just drove. Ten minutes later he slowly turned into a parking lot behind a large church. So large, it was almost shamefully gaudy.
"Their attempts to be plain, but worshipful people become nothing more than obnoxious pride. Sinful vanity. Nothing more." Gaderel remarked softly in disgust.
The driver sighed as he stopped at the back door and turned off his lights. "You'd know more about that then me."
Gaderel got out, leaving the door open. "Of course I would."
The driver kept watch as Gaderel went to the door and stood in front of it for a minute then went inside. The lock on the door had been standard and gave no real trouble to pick. Inside, the alarm system was so simple, it actually had an on/off switch for it. Locks to keep honest thieves out, an alarm system that would discourage those already fearful. Neither were surprising. Gaderel returned to the van and retrieved the girl. She was taken inside and left in a lurid sprawl across the altar.
"To be found thus; your virtue will always be in question. Know it or not, that goes to your favor. One who truly cares for you, will not care about that. When you sleep again; will you still be that vain fool or will you have been shamefully educated?" Gaderel turned and left her, alarm back on and door locked.
Another thirty minutes of driving found the van stopping at the end of an alley between two very old buildings. The driver backed in and stopped. Gaderel got out as the back door lifted up. The foreboding figure knocked on a heavy door three times slowly and stepped back. The door opened and a robed figure blocked passage then backed up.
"Gaderel! One moment please, I will fetch the Master." A man's voice said then turned away.
Gaderel spoke with authority. "Hold. I bring three. Have them brought in while you fetch Dante."
"At once Milord." The figure nodded his hooded head then went inside.
Moments later six men came out, wearing hooded robes and took the three from the van then carried them inside. A man in red, satin robes filled the doorway and nodded.
"Gaderel, Milord, welcome; Fallen One. I humbly invite you in. Do you wish to descend?" The man asked.
Gaderel nodded. "Yes Dante. I will Watch. Take these condemned to Cocytus. Let the Filthy Legion have them."
"The Legion has assembled, as you wished." Dante informed him then turned to the six men carrying the unconscious boys. "Descend to the Ninth Circle, where all traitors belong."
The Ninth Circle of Hell; Cocytus. Sinners guilty of treachery received their punishment there. Rather interesting, they were actually guilty of treachery against their guests. Such offense would place them in the Third Round of the Circle called Ptolomaea. In the story, sinners lie supine(facing up) in the ice while their tears freeze in their eye sockets, sealing them with small visors of crystal so that even the comfort of weeping is denied.
The sound of a large group walking down the stairs could be heard ahead of them as they too descended nine flights then turned through an open doorway. The group of men were encircling a table in the center of the room. The three rapists were laid across it on their backs, shoulders over the edge and arms tucked underneath. Straps were buckled to their foreheads then ropes were used to hold heads back, wrists to cleats under the table, tension to thighs to hold in place and behind knees to lift and spread their legs. Jaws were held open as metal bits were put in place to prevent biting down.
"A Fallen has brought sinners to us for punishment here in the Ninth Circle. Milord Gaderel, what traitors are these?" Dante asked.
Gaderel's voice was almost musical though a growl. "Ptolomaea. They betray guests. Girls are lured to their parties then drugged. Unwitting and unwilling they are raped. Virginity stolen. They make record of this and put on display, betraying them all over again. Such is punishable enough, but there is more. They are filthy and inflict that filth upon their victims. Legion, defile them until spent. Dante, this is to be known."
Dante nodded to another man next to the doorway then looked up. An iron chandelier holding lit candles also held a video camera that indicated activation with a small red light above the lens. Gaderel then went to each rapist and injected an anti-toxin to counter the drug. Soon they stirred, just as six robed men stepped up to them. They parted their robes, revealing erections and rammed them in deep, orally and anally. Struggles were futile and protests were silenced by gagging. Shortly thereafter, Poppers were being used on them. Throat and anal muscles became more pliant. Due to prostate stimulation they were made to ejaculate. Unfortunately, the Legion were uncaring and continued to savage them in turns for hours more. The Filthy Legion were sixty in number, they would last for some time before becoming bored.
Twenty-nine hours later the last grunts of exertion were heard. The mouth-bits were removed and pillow-cases covered the boys' heads. They were released from the table, but re-tied wrist and ankle. Even if they could get free, they hadn't the strength or muscle control to go anywhere. Plus the fact that they were still naked would prevent all but the desperate from fleeing.
Gaderel hadn't been idly standing around. He'd been busy going through the laptop, comparing raw video to edited and social media logins. The phone's video was added. After the boys were readied for transport again, Dante handed over a flashdrive. The video was uploaded to the laptop and the flashdrive handed back. Minutes later they were all back in the van. A stop in a parking lot next to a book store providing free WiFi offered the opportunity to access the internet. Gaderel took advantage of it, uploading an extended video. The boys making their plan, drugging the girl at the party, the attempted rape of her and their own rapes. The three were left a block from a precinct, easy to find. Gaderel departed the van soon after and was able to change into riding gear. A prepositioned bike was used for transportation and away Daryl rode. He dropped off the laptop at the District Attorney's office in a large manila envelope addressed to A.D.A. Hector Aguillar and marked Electronics. A note inside stated the laptop was evidence in an open investigation. Daryl had carefully wiped the computer clean of all fingerprints but replaced all three boys' prints on it randomly.
Hector looked up when the secretary held it out. "What's this?"
"A courier just dropped it off. A Deputy opened it for your safety, it's a laptop. There's a note that says it's evidence in an open investigation." The secretary said.
Hector sighed. "Let me guess; phony company?"
"No. Real one, ID-card and all, but phony guy. Took ten minutes to find that out though, so he got away." She replied.
Hector nodded. "Freelance info-broker. We'll never find him. Still though, we can use this."
Ten minutes later a very loud "HOLY SHIT!" was heard then a phone line lit up. Almost an hour later a Detective and six patrol officers arrived, along with a computer specialist from the crime-lab. The rest of the day was chaotic. Of course the three boys were identified immediately, three naked and obviously sexually assaulted males lying among the bushes in front of a donut shop didn't take long to notice. Even a watch-captain could find them. In fact, that was who did.
Late that night, Abby answered her door. A.D.A. Aguillar and Detective Vaughan stood there.
"What is it?" Abby asked.
Hector smiled slightly. "We got them."
Abby stepped aside. "Come in."
Tabitha peered out of her room. "Mom?"
"Tabi! Come here, they caught them!" Abby announced.
Tabitha was wearing shorts and a tank top, coming into the living room. "What?"
"We got them." Hector told her. "We know who they are and have them in custody now. We even have one of them's laptop with all the evidence on it."
"You...you arrested them? They're in jail now?" Tabitha asked fearfully.
Detective Vaughan nodded to her. "We did and they are. We'd have come sooner to tell you, but we spend almost all day at your school. You weren't the only one they did it to. You weren't the last they tried it with either. Do you know a girl named Sheryl Nabours. She's the Vice-Principal's daughter."
"Not really. I know who she is, but I'm not friends with her." Tabitha admitted. "She doesn't really hang around people not in her church. Why?"
Hector sighed. "Well it seems she did the other night. It didn't go well. I doubt she'll ever do it again."
Tabitha was horrified. "You mean they did it to her too?"
"They tried. For some reason, it didn't work they way they wanted. She blanked out at a party and woke up in a church, naked, on the altar. the minister and his wife found her when they went in to start their day and called an ambulance. She awoke just before it got there and she went hysterical." Detective Vaughan explained.
Abby looked confused. "I don't understand."
Ray Vaughan nodded. "It's pretty involved. Miss Nabours is highly religious, Pentecostal to be exact. Well she's one of those girls that are very out-spoken about retaining virginity until marriage. Pledges of Chastity, purity rings, so on. Well these guys set their sights on her. They found a way to drug her. They were going to rape her and video it, same as Tabitha, then post it all over social media. Conquer and degrade. They were doing it for the 'sport' of it. Disgusting really."
"But, they didn't, right?" Tabitha asked.
Hector shook his head. "No. They didn't. Things went very wrong for them. It seems they 'fell upon a sword'. Someone did to them, what they had been doing to others. The problem we have now is; with so many victims, who retaliated?"
Ray Vaughan looked at Abby. "Ma'am, I have to ask directly; Do you know anything about this?"
Abby shook her head. "No. We don't."
"Very well. Please understand, we had to ask. We have to be going now, but we'll be in contact about the trial. Tabitha may not have to testify, but the defense lawyers could call her to take the stand. Goodnight, ladies." Hector told them, then turned to go but stopped. "That's a nice bike. It's not for casual riding. Fitness either."
Tabitha spoke up. "It's mine. I just started working as a courier."
"Not easy to juggle with school." Ray remarked.
"Like I can ever go back there? After what they did to me?" Tabitha cried. "Mom can't afford to send me to a private school and we can't move! Maybe I can take an online course or something, but I can't go back there ever again!"
Abby pulled her daughter into a hug. "Are we DONE?"
The detective held up his hands. "We're done. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I think education is valuable, please don't give up on it, Tabitha. Do what you can to finish. We'll go now. I'm sorry if what I said came out wrong. Goodnight."
Both men turned to go. Mother and daughter hugged for some time before going to bed.
Outside at the car, Hector turned to Ray. "What do you think?"
"They may have hired a professional. Or they may be part of a group of victims that did. Obviously the work of a pro. Neat, tidy and absolutely a turn-about. They only catch is that this level costs more than they can afford on their own. A group could afford it, but not them two on their own." Ray replied.
Hector sighed. "That's what I thought."
"This isn't street-level. A broker." Ray stated.
"There's what; twenty, maybe thirty in the city?" Hector mused.
Ray shook his head. "Try maybe ten or fifteen on this level. We won't catch them."
Tabitha checked the building numbers as she coasted to a stop and looked around. "2416, 2420. Where's 2418? It's not on this side or the other."
"Place you look for; is no real, Tabitha." A charming voice with a Russian accent said.
Tabitha turned quickly and saw the girl from before, dressed differently, right behind her. "Katya!"
"So they did not need you at trial, da?" Katya asked.
Tabitha shook her head. "No Katya. They all confessed. That and the video, they didn't need me. Mister Aguillar told me later that the defense lawyers didn't want to call any of the girls up."
"Da. Would make thing much worse if girls tell story, nyet? Is good for you, but bad too. You get no say." Katya remarked.
Tabitha looked down. "Yeah. Nobody knows how bad it was."
Katya shook her head. "Not true. Everybody know, Tabitha. Everybody know. Even if not want, they know."
"What about me? What do I do now?" Tabitha asked.
"You care for you. Do work. Do lessons if can. If you ask if hurt go away; nyet. Hurt always there Tabitha, but maybe not so much later. One day, maybe less hurt. True answer, I can not tell. I do not know. You will, one day." Katya said sadly.
Tabitha shrugged. "Wonder which'll come first; that or clearing my debt?"
Katya clicked her tongue. "Not say that, is bad manner, Tabitha. I do help, but nothing ever free. Even I pay thing. Is how work."
Tabitha's cellphone pinged.
"I say work and happen, da?" Katya smiled.
Tabitha giggled. "Yeah. I met some other girls. We're working together as a service. StreetSweets Couriers. Cute, huh?"
Katya nodded. "Da. Go ride, Tabitha. Have fun if can. You take, hope no need to give."
Tabitha looked and saw a business card. She understood what it was. A BlackCard, just as she had been given, to give for someone in need. She took it and slipped it inside her wallet. At Katya's nod, she pushed off to ride off. Katya watched her go then turned to walk the opposite direction. After several steps she darted behind a car and slipped to the driver's side and knocked.
"What gave me away?" Hector asked.
Katya replied. "I see you follow. Leave Tabitha be. I not tell again."
"I just have a question to ask." Hector said and got a nod. "Two of the girls the boys raped, after we told them it had been done to them as well, they confessed to attacking Tabitha in the bathroom at school. That night, one committed suicide. The other is in a clinic for depression. Do think she would take it well, if I informed her?"
"Not matter. She would not go back. Nobody care before, that not change. Leave her be. Go. Do not try find us again. Bad for you if try." Katya warned then walked away, disappearing into the sidewalk crowd.
At a nearby station; Katya walked in then disappeared. A young man in jeans and polo shirt came out. Nobody paid attention to him as he walked down the street.
"That's how it goes." Daryl sang to himself. "Everybody knows."
The Station's
Late Nite Princess |
Don wants to pursue a career in Voice Acting and has been training himself. He's even developed some feminine character voices. What not even his closest friends or Dad know; is that the latest feminine voice is destined for higher purpose. Opportunity and one strange chance change his life forever. Not all things in the night go 'bump'. Sometimes you find a voice of light, when you change your dial!
Chapter 1 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 2 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 3 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 4 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 5 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 6 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 7 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 8 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 9 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 10 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 11 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 12 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 13 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 14 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 15 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 16 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 17 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 18 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 19 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 20 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 21 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 22 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 23 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 24 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 25 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 26 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 27 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 28 of
The Station's Late Nite Princess |
Chapter 29
The Finale Of The Station's Late Nite Princess |
What if one day an opportunity hit, that allowed you to make a childhood dream come true? Would you do that, or something even better? Terry Frost finally has a chance to not only make his dream of being Tessa come true, she has the chance to go further than any dream she ever had as a child.
Chapter 1 of
VentureRealm Park |
A smiling woman walked with her son out through the gates.
"Momma! It's so much fun! Can we come back tomorrow?" The little boy asked.
She shook her head. "No sweetheart. We have to go home tomorrow. We have to get up early to drive home. We'll meet Daddy at the airport and bring him home with us."
"When can we come back?" The boy asked.
His mother sighed. "School starts week after next. Maybe for the Spring Break, but we'll probably have to wait until next summer."
When they got to their car and let the hot air out, he asked as he settled into the seat. "Next time can I dress up as a princess like that one girl we saw?"
"Don't you mean a Prince?" His Mother asked.
He shook his head. "No Momma. A princess! I'm going to be a girl."
"Why don't we talk about it some other time." The woman said.
By the time she drove up onto the highway, she looked over and found the six-year-old had fallen asleep. The rest of the drive back to the motel she felt slightly off. Where had such a request and statement come from?
Tears welled, he didn't see the point in stopping them. For several minutes he cried. Long ago Terry made a promise, to nobody but himself; one day he would return as a girl and be a princess. It didn't happen. A week after returning home, a tornado rampaged across that county. The city had been spared, but not the park. It had been ravaged. Damage so bad it couldn't be repaired, it would have to be rebuilt. The owner paid off everybody employed then filed for bankruptcy.
"Hey. Pretty obvious from your plates, you're not from here." A voice said from behind Terry. "I have to tell you, you're not supposed to be here."
Terry turned and saw a Deputy.
The Deputy was a bit surprised to see the tear-streaked face of the young man, practically no more than a kid. At first glance he believed to be looking at a woman. Platinum blonde hair on a man was rare to see. Even more so when it was long enough to be almost mid-back length. The condition of it look to be a point of pride for the person.
He had a feeling and went with it. "You been here before?"
Slowly Terry nodded. "Once."
The Deputy sighed and leaned back against the railing. "I grew up here. I'm Jimmy Sloan."
"Terry Frost." Terry said heavily. "For now."
"Huh? What do you mean 'for now'? You're not going to be Terry Frost anymore?" Deputy Sloan asked.
Terry shook his head. "No. Not much longer."
Sloan's eyes narrowed. "You want to elaborate on that a bit?"
Terry finally wiped away the tears then straightened up and said firmly. "First, I'm going to buy the park. Second, I'm going to transition from male to female while I rebuild it. I'll be Tessa, not Terry. The way I should have always been."
"You're joking." Sloan chuckled then stopped when Terry slowly shook his head with an intense look. "I mean about the park. You're serious? You're going to buy the park and re-do it?"
"Yes." Terry said. "It'll be better than it ever was."
Deputy Jimmy Sloan had heard many voice the dream of bringing back the park. "No bank around here will float a loan. No matter how good your credit is. There's been talk over the years of people fixing up the park. Nobody that wants to, can. Those that could, aren't interested."
Terry shook his head and walked back to his car. "I'm not them. Just watch. Not only am I going to rebuild the park, I'll be its queen."
Sloan chuckled and walked over to his cruiser. "Yeah? Well, if you do that, I'll turn in my badge and come work for you."
The Trans Am roared to life then the window rolled down. "Enjoy your last year as a Deputy, Deputy."
Sloan laughed as the car drove away and said to himself. "I needed that laugh. Nobody can do anything about the old park. It's a just a memory for us and a daydream for the kids."
Out on the road, Terry had already turned the volume as loud as it would go and finally sang along with a change of certain lyrics. "I can't see today. I can't see tomorrow. You're burnin' out my head and in my brain they were ALWAYS WRONG! I will live today. I WILL LIVE TOMORROW! No matter what they said or done. EVEN WHEN THEY SAID I'M GOIN' WRONG!"
The sports-car faded into the slowly setting sun.
Monday morning Craig Stewart sat down. "Good morning Mister Frost. How can I help you?"
"I'd like to open a savings account and checking account. Later on I'll open business accounts. I have cash to open the two personal accounts and will transfer in the contents of my account electronically in a few days." Terry informed him.
Craig looked confused. "The bank will be happy to accommodate, but I'm a bit confused why you felt the need to see me personally."
Terry didn't blink. "I'll be transferring in 587 million dollars Thursday. I thought you'd like to know who it actually belongs to."
The bank president looked as if he were about melt into his chair, quickly he leaned forward. "Did you say FIVE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN MILLION DOLLARS?"
"That's right." Terry replied then asked. "That's not a problem, is it?"
Craig Stewart shook his head fast. "NO! It'll be a PLEASURE to do business with you!"
"I'll be transitioning from male to female. That's not going to pose a problem at this bank, is it?" Terry glared.
"Absolutely not! Mister or Miss, a client is a client and we'll do all we can to make sure you're happy with our service! Anything you need; just let us know. In fact." Craig took his business card and wrote on it then handed it to Terry. "I've included my personal cellphone. You need anything, call me direct."
Terry began filling out the forms then handed over the cash deposit. "I just rented an apartment while I get ready to purchase some property. I'll return home and get everything ready to move. Thursday I'll transfer the funds."
"Certainly. I'll just set everything up and take your deposit." The banker was about to wet himself in excitement.
Quickly he entered all the information for the two accounts then rushed to the tellers with the deposit. Two-thousand dollars each for the accounts. This would be the biggest account in the bank's history. Actually, it would be the biggest account in the city's history. He had been a manager when the amusement park was open, but it had used a bank in another state. He rushed back to his office.
"Here you are Mister Frost. Welcome to Great National Bank, we look forward to your business with us." Craig Stewart smiled and shook hands with Terry.
Terry accepted the handshake. "Ok Mister Stewart. Put a seat belt on your office chair, you're going to need it."
"Feel free to call me Craig." Craig said. "Have a great day."
Terry nodded and left. Outside he pulled the cellphone from the clip at his hip and dialed.
"Hey." A voice on the other end answered. "I'm all set now. What's up with you?"
"I just opened personal accounts at the bank, Trent. I'm leaving now to come back there." Terry answered.
Trent Valens cautioned. "Take your time. No need to hurry."
Terry was easing into his car. "No big deal. I'll be in around midnight or so. I slept in. What's up with you?"
"Just got a letter from the Bar Association. Approved. I'm all set." Trent stated.
"That's good. I found a real estate agent. There's a few condos under the agency. I have an apartment rented for me." Terry replied. "Use Great National Bank."
Trent laughed. "I still have a million dollars, they should be thrilled to see me."
"When I told the Bank president how much I would be transferring in, I thought he was going to faint and after he came around, start humping my leg." Terry remarked starting the car.
Trent was laughing harder. "He's probably in the bathroom right now, stroking himself and screaming his own name!"
"I doubt that. He's either honest and called for his wife or just another ass and dragged his secretary in with him." Terry said with sarcasm.
Trent settled down. "Does it matter?"
Terry sighed. "Just as long as he isn't trying to fuck me, I don't care. What about everything else?"
"All the paperwork is ready. All you have to do is sign and date it, when the time is right." Trent assured.
Terry said. "Good. Later."
"Drive safe." Trent said and disconnected.
Trent Valens put his phone away and finished packing his things. He had been about to, as he put it, stoop to joining an injury attorney's office six months ago when his life changed. Out of the complete blue, his phone rang with a name on the ID that took him several moments to remember. Terry Frost; a name he hadn't heard since his senior year of high school. Twenty minutes later, he met Terry for coffee and the shock of his life. Not only did Terry want to hire him as his personal attorney, he would pay off all of Trent's loans, bills and any other expenses.
An hour later, and a complete summary of what Trent owed, Terry dropped two consecutive bombs on him. First was the plan to transition. The second was the plan to buy an old amusement park. Trent admitted to not being very knowledgeable about business and property law. Terry asked if six months was enough time to become knowledgeable. Trent said yes and the deal was made. A simple agreement on the page of a notepad was signed and a check for one and a half million dollars became Trent's. He still had over a million left, but earning it every day. He already knew that once Terry found out how much Trent's new home would cost, a check or electronic transfer would happen.
"All set. I'll head out in the morning." Trent said closing his briefcase. "Bayleston, I don't think you're ready for what's going to happen. I just hope Tessa Frost is."
Terry was driving back. Back to a place he would be glad to never see again. Only three last pieces of business to finish there. One, make the payment to keep up the graves of his parents for a hundred years, meet the moving truck at his little apartment for the loaders to get all his belongings and finally transfer all his money to the new bank. After that, Terry would say goodbye and leave the place he hated, forever.
No matter how much he had tried, his parents never accepted the fact he was transgender. In fact they reacted with hostility. First were time-outs, then spankings. When neither of those worked, television privileges were taken away, then playing with friends. When none of that worked, came the con-men. Priests, Reverends, Pastors, Evangelists and anybody else that claimed they could pray the problem away. By his thirteenth year; Terry summed it all up by stating all that was left were Buddhist monks, Shinto priests, Haitian voodoo cults and Amazon tribe shamans. Not that any of those would have better luck.
For that remark, his father's fist flew. Everyone had been shocked when the punch connected and the thirteen year old went down. A police officer had been in the prayer vigil, but now had 'a moment of clarity'. He moved, but it was too slow. The kid recovered from surprise and shock under the most effective motivation. Pure rage. The folding chair he had been sitting in, now on the floor, became an instrument of delivery for that rage. Terry had come up with chair arcing behind him to connect solidly at his stunned father's face. Terry tossed the chair aside and grabbed his father's shirt and pulled him up.
"Lay a hand on me again?" Terry hissed. "I'll kill you!"
Twenty minutes later he was being checked over in the Emergency Room. Two hours later, he was in foster care. It took five tries, before they found a place for him. A group home. The only good thing about it, all the kids there went to school with him anyway, so they weren't about to try anything rough. They knew he could and would fight back. That was how things were. At 14 Terry did odd jobs to start making money for himself. At 16 he was able to get a real job, part-time at a grocery store as a stocker-bagger. Two weeks after his 18th birthday, Terry graduated high school and left the home.
A small apartment four blocks from the grocery store became home. A co-worker helped out by letting Terry borrow her car to take the driver's test so he could get a license. For him, the only real friends became a list of names online. Carefully a collection of second-hand clothes and shoes were gathered, then a first nervous journey to the local LGBT bar. Eventually Terry found himself under the wing of an old Drag-Queen. Terry was taught how to walk, apply make-up, style his real hair and even improvised voice lessons.That was how life was until Terry was almost 20.
Only month before his 20th birthday a police officer knocked on the store's doors. The over-night stock crew manager let him in then called Terry to the office.
"Terry, your parents were in an accident. Your real parents. They were hit head-on. Your Dad didn't make it. Your Mom is on her way to the hospital. I can take you there." The officer said.
Terry realized it was the same cop from that night, when he went into foster care.
"Are you here because you remembered me, or I was asked for?" Terry asked.
"I remembered you. I'll be honest, since that night I kept up with you. I quit that church. I don't go to any church anymore." The officer admitted. "What happened to you was wrong."
"So you came on your own, Sergeant Owens. Did you know that they threatened to have me arrested if I ever came around?" Terry asked then took out his wallet and pulled from it an old envelope.
Daniel Owens read the single page letter and wanted to vomit. In only a dozen lines, there was enough hatred to last a lifetime. He was about to pocket it, but Terry stopped him.
"No. It was the last thing they gave me. It's what meant the most to them." Terry said and put then letter back into his wallet.
A moment later a call came over the radio for Owens. He shook his head sadly. "She didn't make it. I'm sorry."
Two days later a lawyer came by the store and informed Terry of the funeral. He didn't plan to attend and said so. The lawyer also informed him that both his parents had disinherited him. He did however ask if there were any personal items that he would like to keep for himself. Terry shook his head. The lawyer informed him that the graves would be kept up for five years and all death expenses had been covered. The sale of the house and so on would cover any remaining debts they had. In short, there was no inheritance, but there was no debt either.
Terry lived day by day. Doing what he could to save money. He had a decent stash now in the bank. Then a bit of good luck hit. A raffle for air-fare and one week hotel stay in Las Vegas was won by Terry. The first vacation he had taken since he was six. He had a good time in Vegas, even able to go out en-femme twice. On the last day, four days after Terry's 21st birthday, he played his last twenty dollars of the thousand he had brought along. Like the song went, sometimes there's a hole in the pocket of miracles. One fell out in the form of that progressive machine. 425 million in miracle to be exact. The next day, Terry managed to add almost 250 more million to it.
After taxes and a few charitable donations, Terry went home in style. A chartered jet. An airline would have asked why he had two million in cash in his suitcase was why. Terry returned to the store and gave his two weeks notice. On the last day, after clocking out, he went around to each employee and gave them an envelope with five thousand dollars cash in it. The next day was a Saturday and he went back to the group home he had stayed at. He took all twelve kids there to the Mall and spent almost a thousand dollars on clothing for each of them, plus each one received an IPad and laptop. He also bought the couple running the home a new van and car, with insurance for five years and a check for a million dollars. On Monday he had all the kids come down to the nearest bank and had trust accounts set up for them with one hundred thousand dollar deposits in each. On Tuesday afternoon he found Trent Valens.
Terry walked into his old apartment just before one in the morning. He didn't bother with anything more than dropping his keys and phone on the rickety coffee table that had come from a curbside pile then dropped himself onto the old couch and fell asleep. In the morning he quickly took a shower, put on clean clothes and had a couple of poptarts with a bottle of juice for breakfast. The main room had boxes stacked neatly against one wall. Just after eleven, the men from the moving company showed up. They had a small truck and took only twenty minutes to load up the boxes. For an extra hundred dollars they took all the furniture out and set it by the curb. Not that there was much. The couch, coffee table, a desk and chair and a dresser.
After going through the apartment with a vacuum, Terry tossed it into the dumpster and went to the manager. He turned in the keys and didn't bother about the deposit. He just went to his car and left. At the funeral home that owned the cemetary where his parents were buried at, he paid in cash for the upkeep of their graves. His last act as next of kin. Many things had been tempting. Petty acts of revenge, such as buying the church that had been his parents final stand to stamp out his issue. He entertained the idea of buying it away then burning it to the ground. That idea was enjoyed for an hour then discarded. Those flames would have only ignited another fire, against him.
Instead Terry hired a private investigator. He dug enough dirt to smear the Pastor into being removed. Some carefully phrased rumors were started and it was soon out that it was revenge from an event eight years prior that brought down the church. Those were investigated and the whole truth came out. The church's pulpit was declared vacant, meaning the church was closed officially. Through Trent Valenz, the property was bought and redeveloped then sold again at a higher profit. A Super-Dollar now stood where a church used to be. That national retail chain had stores everywhere. The only reason Terry didn't like them was the fact that they wouldn't even let him fill out an application when he was looking for a job. He would take their money, but they would never have his.
Terry went to the bank and transferred the balance of his accounts into the new accounts then closed them down and left. He stopped at a laundrymat to wash the clothes in his suitcase. An hour later he was on the road again, heading back to Bayleston. He would stop along the way at a motel and finish the drive the next day.
A week later, Trent met Terry at Terry's apartment. An old duplex on the outskirts of town.
"Tess, you have like upteen-gillion dollars and you rent this place?" Trent remarked looking at it.
Terry smiled at the use of the name for the future. "Hey I didn't build this. I'm just renting it. Besides, the owner is sympathetic to my needs. He's like the old Queen that helped me get my collective shit together."
Trent shook his head. "Well at least you have actual furniture here."
"I bought it from Rent-Central. When I move out, I'll probably donate it. All my kitchen stuff comes with me though." Terry remarked. "I even got one of those things."
Trent looked to the counter and the coffee machine. "Now THAT'S welcome!"
"Shut up and show me how the damn thing works!" Terry growled.
A few minutes later they both sat at the dinette table with cups of coffee as Trent went over documents. Terry signed where needed and dated them. Trent double-checked each page then nodded.
"Ok. Frost Entertainment Properties LLC is ready to become real. I just need to file these and then we can get started. Any Terry business left?" Trent asked.
Terry shook his head. "No. All that's left, is now and future. Here's the land-line here. My cellphone is being shut off tomorrow."
Trent nodded. "Ok. As soon as the company is up, we'll get new phones. I'll call you. Here's the address of my new office and the condo. You didn't have to buy them both."
"You work for me. I don't want you wondering where you do it from or if where you live is going to be there when you go to it." Terry remarked.
Trent frowned. "Hard to let that go, isn't it?"
Terry didn't reply, just sipped the coffee. He didn't want to admit either that it tasted better than pouring hot water through a sieve of grinds with a filter. He still debated if the damn thing was worth the four hundred dollars instead of a twenty dollar drip-maker from Discount City. At least Terry knew how those worked.
The following Monday Terry walked into Trent's new office and looked around. "Definitely a step up from that other place."
"The place you rent now is step up from that. Ok let's get to it." Trent remarked.
They sat down at a table and Trent brought out several files and explained each one. "This one is the business. You keep the originals and I have file copies. FEP is legit now and you are the owner, I'm your legal staff. Here's the Retainer Agreement for my services, you have the original, I have a file copy. Here's the paperwork from the bank for the business accounts, you have to turn them in and distribute the money. Don't forget to read, sign and date. Oh and here's your new cellphone and a handful off my cards."
Terry checked the phone, it was the same as he had so there was no need to ask about its operation. The cards went into a pocket. He read through the bank paperwork then signed and dated them.
"The woman that runs the agency for the park will be here after lunch. I already went over everything. No surprises. She's ready to sign. We file today and and you can get a check cut for her agency tomorrow and we close on the park by lunch tomorrow. Good?" Trent asked.
"Yeah. Works for me. I'll take this to the bank now. If they don't dick around, this will post by Two." Terry said.
At One that afternoon Terry sat across a table from an older African-American woman staring at a file with accompanying map.
"Everything meets with your approval?" Lorrette Johnson asked.
Terry gave a thumbs-up so Trent smiled. "It does Mrs. Johnson. You have a sale. Get the papers in order and tomorrow there will be a check for your agency by lunch."
Lorette smiled. "That's wonderful!"
Terry looked up. "I will ask you to keep details confidential. Only those that need to know, are to know. If you don't mind."
"Certainly. I understand. I don't know your plans, but I am hopeful. I remember going to the park many times before it was destroyed, I know all the kids around here daydream about it coming back." Lorette confided.
"Right this way Mrs. Johnson." Trent offered to walk her out. "We'll see you tomorrow."
The next day at noon, papers were finalized and check for 70 million dollars changed hands. At Five that afternoon Trent watched as Terry took particular pleasure in tearing down the sign for the real estate agency then used a maul to hammer in the uprights for a new sign, Now Owned by Frost Entertainment Properties, LLC.
"Friday I have five contractors coming to see me. I'll give them a week to come up with bids." Trent said as they stood back admiring the new sign.
Terry nodded. "I like it. Let's go."
They got into their cars and drove away. Tomorrow, Terry would come back and cut off the old locks and put on new ones. There had been only one key to give over, to the front gate. He now owned 240 acres of dream. Soon, it would all come true.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 2 of
VentureRealm Park |
First thing Wednesday morning, Terry found every gate of the park and counted locks. He tried the lock of the front gate and found that it hadn't been opened in so long, the lock was rusted. That only meant that it was just another lock to be cut and replaced. A list was made of items and a trip to the local Pro-Am Mart filled it. Pro-Am Mart was a national chain store for hardware, lumber, garden and appliances. The best place for Professional Contractors and Amateur do-it-yourselfers to get what they need for most projects. A total of twelve matching-key padlocks, reciprocating saw, two spare batteries and a pack steel blades took care of the list. The saw was battery operated, which was good. The batteries needed to be charged, that was the down-side.
After setting the first battery to charge, Terry began looking through the online listings for a counselor. Ten phone calls later, Terry had two options locally. One was a male Psychologist and the other was a female Psychiatrist. Terry had completely disregarded 'life coach' listings. Many of those took a religious route, which was a big no in his book. Those weren't the only calls. He also needed a Doctor, General Practice, a Dentist and an optometrist. None of those would be a serious problem, Terry could pay personally. However he was going to check what insurance those would take and if any were looking for a change of pace.
Something else, along those lines, were Paramedics and EMTs. Four teams of mixed pairs would be a good idea for a bare minimum. The main health problems associated with parks were heat exposure/dehydration, motion sickness and allergic reactions. The most common allergic reaction was food related, peanut products. One of the easiest preventive measures was not using peanut oil in fryers. Terry knew Trent was now meeting contractors privately. That was fine. When they came back with their bids, Terry would be listening in an adjoining room and use the computer to send any questions that popped up. That could all wait until then.
For three hours Thursday Terry went around and cut the old locks off and replaced them with new ones. The third battery was gone just before it was finished, so Terry ended up breaking the shackle with the maul used to set up the new sign. With that task finished, Terry stopped at a local burger place for lunch. Bro's Burgers and Shakes was pretty good. There was indoor, patio and the drive-in stalls. The hops working outdoor wore skates and would perform tricks on their return trips. Lunch done, Terry went to the first appointment.
"Hello, you must be Terry Frost." A woman greeted and offered a handshake. "I'm Adriann Marlo."
Terry nodded. "Doctor Marlo."
Doctor Marlo led him into her office and gestured to a chair. "Please, have a seat and call me Adriann."
"Alright, Adriann. I won't waste time. Put blunt, I'm here to see if you would oversee my transition." Terry stated point-blank.
Adriann nodded. "That is blunt. To be honest, I'll admit I have no idea what a transition entails. Actually I've never met a transgender person, to my knowledge. I wouldn't know where to start."
Terry looked at her intently. "Bottom line. Yes or no?"
Adriann sighed. "I have to say no. I have no knowledge about this. I think Brad Waverly does."
"I'm meeting him in an hour." Terry informed her.
The Psychiatrist looked visibly relieved. "That's good. I don't know Brad well, but I do know that he has experience I don't. He worked in the San Francisco area for ten years and I think he said something about LGBT groups. I hear that he's very good with his patients. He not one of those 'there's a pill for everything' types."
Terry nodded. "That's a plus."
"I'm sorry Terry. I just don't have the knowledge. I see now that I should get it. I don't know how long it'll take me, but check back if you need to." Doctor Marlo said.
Terry stood up. "Well, at least you are honest about it. How much for the consultation?"
"Nothing. I can't charge somebody I can't do anything for. All I ask is that you don't take it personally." Adriann said as she stood up.
"Fair enough. Have a good day." Terry said then left.
At Two that afternoon Terry greeted his second appointment. "Doctor Waverly?"
"Brad." The man with glasses and a goatee greeted. "And you're Terry Frost. Come right in."
Terry was surprised when Brad led him through the office and outside to a patio with two chairs.
"It's too nice of a day to stay indoors, don't you think?" Brad asked sitting down.
Terry quipped. "especially if you use clouds for a Rorschach test."
Brad laughed. "I never thought of that. I like it though!"
Terry made a hash-mark in the air.
"So what brings you to me?" Brad asked.
Terry gave him a flat look. "I'm transgender. I want to transition. Will you oversee it?"
"That's direct." Brad replied.
Terry nodded. Brad began interviewing casually. After thirty minutes Brad leaned forward.
"Terry. I'll admit, I wish you didn't need me. However, you do. I think it would be good if you see me every other week. What day and time would you like?" Brad asked.
"How about Monday, first slot?" Terry suggested.
Brad nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go in and take care of that."
Terry paid the consultation fee and collected the appointment card. Terry also took the list of insurance providers he could accept. From there he went over to the local technical college and asked for the Resources administrator.
"How can I help you?" The woman asked gesturing to the chair opposite.
Terry sat down. "Of your courses, I wanted to know if you have paramedic and EMT training?"
"Oh, of course! Would you like to enroll for those? We can combine the two or you could take EMT first and work as one while you take Paramedic." She offered.
Terry shook his head. "I'm not looking to go into those fields, but sometime in the next year or so, I will be looking for personnel to hire."
That surprised her. "Really? Are you starting up an ambulance service here?"
"No Ma'am. I'm not ready to hire yet. Until I am, I'd rather not say more than I'll be hiring four teams of mixed pairs." Terry stated.
She reached over to hand him her card. "Well, when you are ready to hire, please let me know. We try to get placements for our students when they complete their courses."
Terry pocketed the card. "That's good. I am going to warn you, I'll be an equal opportunity employer. I'll have no discriminatory monkey business. Likewise my employees had better be tolerant. At the very least, professional enough to set any personal b.s. to the side when it's time to work. Also, I'm the boss. I hire, I fire."
"You sound very Hands-On. The kind of person that walks through and not only knows faces and names, but details too." She surmised.
Terry nodded. "As much as I can. I'll be in touch."
"Good day!"Liz Quinlon smiled as he left and ten seconds later, wanted to kick herself. She had forgotten to get his name!
Terry starting going to the park everyday. Now that there were working locking on the gates, it was easy to just drive in and park his car in a spot not visible to any outsiders. It was still spring, but warm enough to wear shorts and a t-shirt. Terry was doing just that, along with sandals. Hair pulled back into a high ponytail as well. Slowly he walked around, notebook in hand, writing down what he found. In all honesty, not much looked salvageable. It really was looking like the park would have to be completely rebuilt from the ground up.
Over the weekend Trent had brought in a professional Drone operator to video the entire park. Five contractors had been brought in and given the video and high resolution pictures. Now they were waiting for the bids. There was catch. The plans the contractors have were the original plans for the park. Terry and Trent had done research and found the original plans and costs for the park. The objective was to see how close the contractor would get to that figure. Whomever did, was the one Terry wanted. It would also control information about what the new park was going to look like some. Details would eventually get out, but Terry wanted to keep it quiet for as long as possible. The bank President was the only one that officially knew the park had been bought.
That was what Terry did for four days. In the evenings, after dinner, Terry worked on the real plans for the park. First would be demolition, the whole park taken to bare earth, then truckloads of dirt brought in to build up to five feet above its current elevation. Terry wanted to take no chances of the park flooding. No one had said anything about it, but Terry had seen the signs of standing water on the structures that still stood.
Weather may not be a factor that can be beaten, but it could be anticipated and its effects lessened. Elevated land with good drainage aided by high volume pumps would keep the park relatively dry. There were various methods to direct excess water away from areas. Terry intended to use all he could find. Bad weather would always be an enemy to fight.
Terry's thoughts were interrupted by the cellphone. Trent was calling.
"Yeah?" Terry answered.
Trent informed him. "One of the contractors had to pull out."
"Oh? They give a reason?" Terry asked.
"Yep." Trent replied. "He had a stroke. Pretty bad one, he is going to be in the hospital for a while and then forced retirement."
Terry sighed. "And then there were four."
Trent agreed. "So it goes. Two of the contractors have said they're ready to turn in their bids now. I gave them time slots tomorrow. I'm just waiting on the other two now."
"Have any of them figured out we're pulling a fast one on them?" Terry asked.
Trent answered. "If they have then they aren't letting on. I found the firm that designed the park. We can wait until the contractor is decided. If that's cool with you?"
"Yeah. I have a session the following Monday first thing. I'm trying to get the first slot as much as I can, so I can get it out of the way." Terry stated.
"Question." Trent said.
Terry resisted the urge to chuckle. "Answer."
"Is Terry going to be here tomorrow or Tessa?" Trent asked.
Terry sighed. "Unfortunately, Terry will be there. Outwardly."
"Oh. I get it." Trent said understanding.
Terry would be wearing feminine clothes, just not obviously so. In short, the usual. Many assumed that Terry bleached his hair. It wasn't true. Terry took pride in being a natural platinum blonde. Even more so at having it long, almost to the middle of his back. Dark, almost cobalt blue eyes and a complexion that was practically tan-resistant made him seem doll-like.
Terry had been walking back to his car. "I'm pretty much done here. The first thing is to take this place all the way down to the dirt. Then it needs to be elevated at least five feet higher. Then we can start."
"You still want to start the housing projects first?" Trent asked.
"Definitely. The staff dorm and my house. That way I can start getting the cast and staff in and ready to go before the park is finished. As soon as we pick the contractor, I want to get the demo permits filed before close of business." Terry stated.
Trent agreed. "Sounds fine by me. See you tomorrow. First slot is at nine-thirty."
Friday was busy. The first contractor came in on time, but very unorganized. After ten minutes of fumbling around to find things, Trent asked an unexpected question.
"Mister Dugan, why are you here and not the man I met before? Mister Jeremy Tilden." Trent asked.
Dugan nervously cleared his throat and answered. "Mister Tilden had another meeting to attend."
Trent felt like he was being gas-lighted. "And what, exactly, do you do?"
"I file the papers. Permits and so on." Dugan replied.
"I see. So who is actually in charge with this company?" Trent asked.
Dugan now understood he was in trouble. "Blaine Woods. He's the contractor."
"Why is Mister Woods NOT here?" Trent asked.
Dugan looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. "He's on vacation."
Trent wanted to face-palm. "Please be honest, does he even know about this?"
"He, uh, isn't up on the details. Specifically." Dugan side-stepped.
Trent sighed. "Mister Dugan, I don't understand what is going on with this company, but I will say that I don't like this. I believe this meeting is concluded."
Dugan was going to hand him the file, but Trent waved it off. "Never mind Mister Dugan. Good day."
On Trent's computer screen, in messenger, was the single line: they don't actually want the job, send him back.
Dugan left looking like everything that he thought could go wrong, had.
Trent walked into his office from the conference room. "Well that went to shit faster than eating ex-lax at Taco Bell."
"I checked the guy's social media. He has a place down in the Keys, been there for two weeks and isn't due back for another two." Terry remarked.
Their conversation was interrupted by Trent's new secretary calling over the intercom. "Mister Valens? There is a Mister Dave Wells, from Las Vegas, on the line."
"Thank you Lilly." Trent replied and took the call on speaker
"Trent Valens here. I have Terry as well." Trent announced.
"Hello." Dave Wells greeted. He didn't waste time either. "Tessa, is that offer still on the table?"
Terry answered. "It's yours if you want."
"Yes. I want. What do I need to do?" Dave asked.
"Start packing. Plan for a month here then go back and get all your stuff. I'll have a ticket waiting for Monday morning." Terry said.
Dave took a moment then said. "Ok. Text or email me the details."
Trent nodded to Terry and said to Dave. "Done. I'll meet you at the airport."
"Monday then. I look forward to the change in scenery." Dave signed off and disconnected.
Trent disconnected as well then turned to Terry. "He's going to be the head of security, right?"
Terry nodded. "Yeah. I met him Vegas. He's good, but they kept him down because he's gay."
"Well I know I'd feel a bit better if you weren't in that park all alone." Trent remarked.
Terry shook his head. "I'm done for now. None of it is worth saving. We'll be rebuilding it from the ground up. Including the ground."
Lilly interrupted again. "Mister Valens. Mister Smith of SmitCo is here."
"Thank you Lilly. The conference room please." Trent replied then said to Terry. "Let's try this again."
Terry sat down behind the desk. "At least this guy showed up himself."
Trent entered the conference room and found the man standing at the table laying out his things in his preferred order.
'This is a good sign.' Trent thought to himself then greeted him. "Mister Smith. Thank you for coming in."
Jack Smith reached over and shook hands. "Thank you Mister Valens. Couple more seconds and I'm ready."
"By all means." Trent gestured for him to continue then smiled as the contractor unfurled a diagram on the tale and used some logo'ed blocks to hold it flat.
"All set." Jack Smith said.
Trent watched and listened as the contractor began going over what the original task was. He was very take-charge and had apparently done some additional research himself. Trent was impressed when he flatly stated that the whole park needed to be leveled and start all over. All that was good, but then things started going in a different direction. The numbers started climbing, both in dollars and time. He was projecting seven to nine months of demolition. Then Smith said something that alarmed Trent.
"Basically what we need to do is depress the center of the property. That would create a cold-well. The cooler air would naturally fall into the center of the property and make it more comfortable." Smith explained.
Trent didn't even need to look at the computer screen to know this was a problem. Terry had already talked with a Tornado expert. The EF-3 Tornado had practically been funneled straight for the park due to the surrounding topography. This guy was proposing to make it even worse.
Trent let him get to a pause then asked him to wait a moment. Over at the computer he read the messages.
This guy has no idea what he's talking about, demo will take three months at most. He's done.
"Thank you Mister Smith." Trent said as he went back to the table. "I'll get back to you if we opt to pursue your plans."
Jack knew he'd been nailed, but there was nothing he could say about it. What he wanted to know now was, how they knew he was ripping?
Trent watched him gather up his things and leave. Lilly came to the door and waved to him.
"Yes Lilly?" Trent asked then saw a man sitting in a reception chair.
"Mister Roanoke arrived ten minutes ago. He told me that any numbers Mister Smith gave you would be at least three times more than reality." Lilly said quietly.
Trent looked over to the man. He stood up and strolled over.
"Young man. I ought to warn you. SmitCo is good at one thing, milking a project for all its worth. In truth, they only have office staff. He uses temp labor and charges three times what he has pay." Bill Roanoke stated.
Trent showed him into the conference room. "Well, I'm very interested in what you have to say Mister Roanoke."
"I don't go for all that. I'm Bill. Look here." Bill said then unfurled several rolls of diagrams.
Trent looked at them then noticed they were faded, but still good.
"Where did you get these?" Trent asked.
Bill smirked. "My office. I worked on the park when it was being built the first time. Here's how much it cost back then, here's what it'd cost to do the same way today. What's on my mind now, is why you'd want to do it EXACTLY the way it was, when you have a prime chance to do it right this time?"
The office door opened and Terry came in.
Bill gave a knowing smile. "Looks like I just got the boss' attention."
"You did." Terry remarked. "I'm listening."
"There ain't nothing I don't know about this park. Most importantly; I know where they went wrong." Bill said then shifted the diagrams around to a topographic layout. "This whole area here is a funnel. Park smack dab in the middle. That tornado coming through didn't have a choice but waste that park. The highway is up high, see? and then you got all this area over here, strip mall, school house and all that. It's built up too. Now the park sits low, now in the summer that makes a well. All the cooler air rushes in. It also draws a tornado straight to it. Lightning too. That's bad. The old rollercoaster was the biggest lightning rod for a mile."
"Save me some time Bill." Terry said.
Bill chuckled. "No-nonsense. I like that. Ok. First we strip all this down to the under-layer. That's red clay. We bring in more to build it up, with the highest point being the center of the park. I'd go for ten feet of elevation at the center, six foot at the outer edge. Then we start building the park the right way. Lowest point being the area under the roller coaster."
Terry looked at him intently. "What's your priorities?"
"I take my jobs serious. I get paid to do it right, not twice. The safety of my work crew is tops. They don't do nothing I won't. Whoever is paying, is the boss. If I'm taking their money, I do it their way." Bill said firmly.
Terry asked. "What if I was walking around in a dress and high heels?"
"I'd ask you to change. Don't misunderstand me. I mean them high heels to a safety shoe of some kind and hand you a hard hat and glasses. I take safety seriously. That's OSHA regulations and I encourage it. Otherwise, it don't make no nevermind to me. I got no say in how folks live. I only object to safety violation on the job-site. That's part of my job to." Bill said firmly. "If you intend to visit the site that way, I have to ask that you only come to the trailer and no further. I'll come to you there. Fair enough?"
Terry looked at the pages and saw the one he wanted. He picked it up and read then handed it to Trent.
"You're hired Mister Roanoke. I'm Terry Frost now, but I'll be changing that to Tessa Frost. By the time all the dirt work is done, the plans will be ready. Other things get built first. Any questions?" Terry asked.
"You call me Bill. I'll call you whatever you want as long as the check don't bounce. Pay in three installments." Bill said.
Terry smirked. "You'll be getting paid in five installments. To get started, after the dirt work, after the first phase of construction, half the park done and when the park is finished. How's that?"
"That sounds just fine by me." Bill nodded.
Terry unrolled a diagram. "Here's a rough idea of what I want."
Bill looked over the drawing. "A house and some kind dormitory? Let me guess; for you and for the folks working there?"
"That's right. I want to make sure my people don't have to worry about certain things. Housing won't come out of their pay. Things like phones and cable will but they'll have free internet. No rent and meals in the dorm are included. I'll still pay them fair rate, probably better than some other places." Terry said. "I'm going to be hiring a lot of people like me."
Bill sighed. "I hate to tell you this, but if you're wanting to keep it quiet something's going on, there's already talk. Big money coming into town, cars coming and going at the park and somebody saw the real estate sign ain't there. Word is, somebody bought the park and something's going to happen with it."
"I expected it. I'm surprised the talk didn't start the day I bought it." Terry admitted.
Bill shook his head. "Just the past couple of days. You want us quiet about it, it won't cost you extra. In fact, I still keep in touch with the folks that designed the original layout. They thought the owner was an idiot for not building up the ground too."
"Hadley and Associates?" Terry asked.
Bill nodded. "Ron Hadley was the designer. He died three years ago, but his boy is top notch. Name's Dominic. He'd jump at the chance to work on a new park."
Terry looked over to Trent.
"I'll call him." Trent affirmed.
Terry nodded. "I think we found our contractor. We got one left, but I like what you say Bill."
"I'd imagine you're expecting Whooten Brothers." Bill guessed.
Trent chuckled. "We are."
Bill nodded. "They're ok. They built the big mall in town. They've built two of the schoolhouses too."
"Nothing bad to say?" Trent asked.
Bill shook his head. "Nope. I guess if I had to say something, it'd be, they like to hurry."
"Cut corners?" Terry asked.
"I wouldn't say that. Just that they, hurry." Bill said.
Terry now understood. That company didn't like to take on long term or highly involved projects. They'd do the demo and maybe the ground work, but the actual building of the park they wouldn't be suitable.
Terry nodded. "I see. Well, we'll see them and hear what they have to say. I'll call you either way later today."
Bill nodded and picked up all his diagrams and papers. "I'll be waiting."
After he left, Trent looked to Terry. "Is he our guy Tessa?"
"More than likely." A contralto voice answered.
Monday morning Bill Roanoke walked into the Courthouse and went to the clerk of Court.
"Morning Bill. Permits?" The Clerk asked.
Bill nodded and handed over the applications. "Yep."
"Ok." The Clerk began to look them over then his eyes widened. "THE PARK?"
"Settle down now, Harvey." Bill said. "There's the applications, here's the check. Do your thing, quietly, so I can do my thing."
Harvey leaned closer. "I heard a rumor somebody bought up the park. So it is true?"
"Harvey, I got a job to do. I need you to do yours." Bill said.
Harvey began checking over the applications then approving them. Ten minutes later, he handed over the permits.
"Ok Bill. Permits issued." Harvey said.
Bill checked then nodded. "Harvey, its going to be done right this time. Don't say nothing."
Harvey nodded. "Good luck Bill. Go get it."
Hours later, a confident young man strode down a jet-way. He looked over by baggage claim and found who he was looking for.
"Trent." He called out.
Trent walked over and greeted him. "Dave Wells. Nice to finally meet you."
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 3 of
VentureRealm Park |
Tuesday morning Bill Roanoke pulled in at a back gate and saw a new Trans Am parked inside the park. He drove in and parked close by.
"Morning Bill." Terry called out.
Bill got out of the truck and walked over. "Morning there."
Terry led him over to his car, took out a portfolio and laid it open on the hood.
"I'd like to be responsible about this Bill. All the metal here, I want taken to the recycling plant nearby. How does that sound to you?" Terry asked.
Bill nodded and handed her a card. "Already talked to them. Expecting a call from you. They'll take any man-made stuff."
Terry liked that the old man was thinking ahead, but decided to throw him a curve. "All the recycling money, give to the crew as an incentive. How does THAT sound?"
"You want to do that?" Bill asked, finally taken by surprise.
Terry gave him a flat look. "Will it motivate? They get paid whatever you usually pay them to work, but they get that recylce money as a bonus, or more like, a bounty. The less going to the dump is more money for their pocket."
"Hell yeah, that'll motivate. My crew'll go bonkers looking for stuff to send!" Bill said.
Terry pulled a page from the pad and handed it to Bill. "These are some items that are here in the park. I want them pulled, pressure and steam cleaned and delivered to these locations. I need it done no later than noon tomorrow."
Bill read the page. "You think this kitchen stuff will still work?"
"Yes. It's all gas so it just needs to be cleaned up. Pressure washers and steam cleaners will do it." Terry answered.
Bill nodded. "Might be right about that. All these are shelters and free kitchens. I see now. You're donating this stuff."
"That's right. Everything going in will be new and under warranty. All this old stuff may be serviceable, but no warranty. If these don't work, then I'll pay to get them working, but I can't get a warranty. I'll try to do some good for people that need it the most." Terry explained.
"Well, you keep thinkin' like that and you're gonna make a name for yourself before you even get the gate open." Bill remarked.
Terry flipped the portfolio closed. "I got lots of ideas."
Bill eyed the young man in front of him intently. "This ain't no overnight thing. You been thinkin' on this a long time, ain't you?"
The feminine voice that answered took Bill by surprise. "Since I was six years old. I wanted to come back and be a princess. I'm older now, I'll build a better park and be its queen."
"I see fire and ice in them eyes of yours. I'm guessing I better get a name or two straight before we get on this." Bill remarked.
"The real me is Tessa. The disguise you and everyone else around here has seen is Terry." Tessa replied.
"Tessa, huh? Queen of the park, too?" Bill adjusted his ball-cap then nodded. "Well, your Ladyship, guess this old man best get started on your kingdom. I got me some mountains to move."
Tessa nodded. "Yes you do. And Atlas is holding up the world, so you and your army will have to do it for me. This is the last week I will be disguised. Get used to seeing the real me around."
Bill tipped his cap. "Your Ladyship."
Tessa saw him wink as well. He was teasing, but in a kind way.
"You'll need this." She tossed a key that he caught. "It goes to every lock here. I'll see you every morning."
Bill pointed to a spot. "My work trailer will be right there."
Tessa nodded then slipped into her car and drove away.
Dave Wells went into Trent's office. "Morning."
"Morning. Hotel ok?" Trent asked.
Dave nodded. "It's fine. What's on the agenda for today?"
"The same realtor I used is coming by in ten minutes, she'll show you four condos they have listed. One of them is furnished, if I remember right." Trent said. "Coffee?"
Dave held up a go-cup. "Sure. This one is pretty much done."
Ten minutes later, he left with the realtor and an hour later chose a condo. It was unfurnished, though.
Dave didn't mind that, he would be staying at the hotel for a while anyway. Trent was going to let him use a spare office, that would be his research room later, until Dave settled in and could work from home while the park was being built. That suited Dave just fine. The Army had taught him to be flexible. Gather everything thrown his way and sort out what was important for himself. That's what he had done in Military Intelligence. The Army hadn't really cared he was gay, since he kept his romantic interests out of the Army.
As an officer, he led by example and that example was professionalism. He did all he could to solve every problem in-house before it went higher. If a problem did have to go higher, he took it there personally and made damn sure it was taken care of. Only once had there been comment about his sexuality shortly after getting married. He shut the snide higher rank down fast.
"I'm an officer and a gentleman. My priorities are beyond clear. My Men. My Mission. My Self. In that order Colonel. Anything else is a disgrace to the uniform and conduct unbecoming!" Captain Dave Wells said with conviction.
Two platoons had been in a loose formation behind him. Immediately they all snapped to attention and yelled out, saluting, "HOO-AHH CAPTAIN WELLS!"
From then on, no one scoffed or sniped at him. Those under his command would follow him anywhere. That was how it had been. Whenever his post changed, his husband joined him within a week. Until the last posting. A local police officer had a serious mean streak. The only people he hated more than soldiers, were gays and lesbians. The problem was, he had connections. Deep connections. Two on the city council, three more were cops and one in the District Attorney's office.
Erick Delone pulled over when the lights were flashed and the siren chirped. He didn't object when the officer demanded to search the vehicle, he had nothing to hide. Unfortunately a picture of himself and Dave was in a clear frame attached to the console. Sneers and slurs later, the bigoted officer punched him then decided to just outright shoot him.
Army CID got involved when the Army MP's hit the Blue Wall. The department desperately tried to sweep it under the rug. From the mayor on down there was effort to bury it. Dave took the advice of one of the Special Agents and went to the press. The spouse of active duty decorated military personnel was big news. The fact the victim was in a same sex marriage practically threw napalm on the fire. When all was said and done, an eighth of the city's administration and legal apparatus was in shambles and the State services had to come in. The dirty cop didn't even make it to prison. It was unclear who was actually responsible, but he had been found dead in his holding cell waiting to be arraigned.
Dave was disgusted about the whole thing and resigned his commission. He found himself in Vegas working casino security. It wasn't bad, but he refused to pursue any personal relationships. The occasional drinks or breakfast after shift, but that was it. Until he met a transgender woman that won big money and requested a security escort. That was when he met Tessa Frost. She had some spirit, there was a will to fight that wouldn't settle for anything less than what she wanted. On the day she left, at the steps of the private jet, she asked for his information and said flatly, be ready in six months. He knew then, she wasn't lying.
Six months later, she kept her promise. She called and outlined what she was going to do and when she'd need him. Now he was there. After setting up housekeeping for himself, she wanted him to start seeking out people they would need. Dave still had pull in government circles, he could find who he needed or check out who Tessa found on her own.
"Yes Tessa?" Dave answered the new cellphone Trent had given him.
Tessa asked. "The condo is paid for. You want a car here or are you going to bring yours from Vegas?"
Dave had to smile, that was so like her to be on the ball. "I'll bring my car. I have enough to keep me busy all week. Sunday I'll fly back to Vegas and get my things shipped here and drive back. I should be back the following weekend."
"Sounds good. Trent told me you have your bank accounts set up already. I've just transferred some money in. Is there anything you need?" Tessa asked.
"Not at the moment. After I get settled in I'll need a day or two to deal with the VA here. I have some news." Dave said
Tessa asked. "What kind?"
Dave smiled to himself. "I may have a line on a computer specialist. She's ex-Navy. I can't tell you much, because I don't know enough yet."
"Where is she?" Tessa asked.
Dave replied. "San Diego. Word I got is, she's freelancing right now."
Tessa paused then said. "Go check her out while you're out that way. If you like her, say so and I'll make arrangements for her. If we can use her, I'll pay her five grand plus expenses just to come meet me."
"Ok. Anything else?" Dave asked.
Tessa answered. "Yes. Meet me at the park at eight tomorrow morning. Back gate two."
Dave affirmed. "Tomorrow at zero-eight."
Tessa disconnected so he went back to his tasks.
The next morning, two workmen were loading coolers of ice water into a side-by-side cart when two cars pulled in and parked at the office trailer. They had to suppress the urge to whistle when a platinum blonde woman got out of the red Trans Am. A formidable looking man in a long sleeve shirt and chinos joined her from the other car and they both went inside.
"Mornin'." Bill greeted them when the two walked in.
Tessa returned it. "Morning Bill. This is Dave Wells, formerly, Captain in the U.S.Army and later one of the better casinos in Las Vegas. He's my Head of Security."
"Captain?" Bill noted then shook hands. "Good to meet you. Bill Roanoke, but just call me Bill, Sir."
Dave shook hands. "I have no problem skipping formality. Dave is fine, Bill."
Bill directed them to a diagram on the wall. "I got my guys swarming section by section. Today they're taking down the old roller coaster. Now I have a handful over in this area here. They're getting this area ready to start building your house."
"I spoke to the people that the appliances were taken to. Some needed work, but I had it taken care of." Tessa informed him.
Bill smirked. "Along with grocery deliveries? Heard 'bout that. That's a good thing you did. Heard the local kids' home got Christmas early too. Sure you aren't Mrs. Claus in disguise, your Ladyship?"
"I thought you had enough going on to be listening to town-talk, Bill. Shall I find you a hobby?" Tessa smirked back.
Bill chuckled. "I think I can find myself something to do. Next week we should be done with the tear down."
Dave looked the diagram over. "If I'm reading this right, and I believe I am. The whole compound is going to be raised, ten feet at the center and a gradual slope to eight feet at the perimeter. Tessa's house and the barracks here don't require the lift. Right?"
"Mostly right. We are going to build up that area, by five feet. There's nothing underground there so the dirt work is about to start." Bill pointed out.
"I'd like to bring in another trailer for an office. For myself and Dave. I think I found one." Tessa stated.
Bill nodded. "Fine by me. You tell me where it is and I'll have my guys bring it over."
Tessa nodded. "That works. I'll give something on the side for that."
"Bill when do you think you will get to the point that the actual layout can go on paper?" Dave asked.
Bill shook his head. "Not for a while. After we break up all the pavement, we have to dig up all the underground service. Then we start bringing in the dirt to raise the whole place. Once we get to that part, then the designer lays out the park. Why do you ask?"
"We want to make this the new standard in security. More camera coverage than a casino gaming floor." Dave explained.
Bill nodded. "That's a good reason."
Dave went on. "I have a line on some people in Vegas that are great monitors. They're top-notch. The problem is; they want to get out of Vegas, but for what they are capable of, the options are limited. This is their ticket out."
"I thought Las Vegas was supposed to a great place?" Bill asked.
Dave shook his head. "That's just the bright lights. Visiting, it's like no other place. Living there is a different story. It's expensive, uncomfortable because of the dryness and the biggest problem, gambling. It's easy to get hooked and over your head. Addiction is heavy over there. Hard to beat too, because pretty much you're surrounded by bad influences. Its like Hotel California, you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave."
"It's that bad?" Bill asked.
"Worse than you realize. People gamble to get up enough money to escape, but then the fever hits and they lose it all." Dave explained. "It's a never-ending circle. Tessa got me out just in time. I'm going to matter again. I'd go to Hell and drag the Devil out for Tessa Frost. She saved me."
The older man looked at the younger and saw the look in his eyes. He saw truth. The ex-Army Captain wasn't lying.
"Well. I guess I got a real job ahead of me. Making her dream come true." Bill said.
Tessa spoke up. "You'll do it Bill."
Bill chuckled. "I do like your confidence and spunk."
Tessa stepped forward. "No confidence needed. I want you to do it, because you're the right man for the job. You'll make it happen. That's why I chose you, Bill. It's that simple."
The old man now got it. She wasn't hoping, she was determined. She would have what it was she wanted. Period. In her eyes was the look of someone who knew what it was like to lose everything and refused to let it happen again.
"I won't let you down." Bill said.
Tessa nodded then turned to Dave. "Let's go."
At the door Tessa turned back. "I don't do Faith Bill. I do fact. Fact is, you're the only one that can do this. I know it, you know it. All that's left, is to do it. I'll call you later about the trailer."
Bill watched them leave. A minute later one of his crew leaders came in.
"Hey Boss. Who was that?" The worker asked.
Bill looked over. "That was the Boss and her security man, Drew."
Drew let out a low whistle. "Wow. She's a looker."
"You watch that kinda talk. She's the Boss. On top of that, a damn fine person. Respect her, at all times." Bill glared.
Drew held up his hands. "Easy Boss. I'll be good."
"Bring everybody in for a meeting. We need to kick this in high gear." Bill said.
Two hours later he sent two of his men with a truck to bring Tessa and Dave's office trailer.
The next day saw a delivery of office furniture and electronics. The trailer was hooked up to the temporary service and internet service was hooked up by the end of the day. Dave was there almost from sun-up to sun-down. Tessa came and went with no set schedule. The workers were surprised on Friday when they began seeing a drone overhead. One thing for certain, they could tell whoever was operating it knew what they were doing.
Bill already had his men in high gear. They tore down structures enough to move the pieces to his company yard, from there a three man crew broke the pieces down to sizes small enough to be accepted at the recycling center. Four equipment men were now over at the area where Tessa's house would be built and they were moving dirt around as it was brought in. Basically, two acres were set aside for her home. The outer perimeter would be a tree-line for privacy.
The construction crew had quickly grown accustomed to seeing Dave walking around the site in camo pants, ARMY strong t-shirt and combat boots. They were surprised to learn that he had taken the Combat Lifesaver course, which made him the site's First Responder. Wednesday had also seen the delivery off a yellow side-by-side that he applied Emergency Vehicle decals on. It had a modified flat bed that was long enough for a person on a stretcher to lay on. On Sunday Dave turned in his rental car at the airport when he flew back to Las Vegas. The workmen on Monday were surprised to not see him.
Monday, Tessa showed up as herself for the counseling session. That, of course, brought even more questions. Brad took his time though. He didn't want to rush anything. In fact, he was doing his best to ensure that Tessa lost track of time. He found her to be very resolute in her course. There was no doubt or hesitation. As if those things did not exist to her. To Tessa, her body was wrong. That would be corrected as current medical advances would go and she would be right with the world as she saw it. The session ended up being two hours instead of one.
Despite his attempt to persuade her not to pay for the extra time, she insisted anyway and would not accept otherwise. The argument truly ended when Tessa threatened to buy him a timer that came with a klaxon siren. He knew with her wealth, that wouldn't be a problem so he accepted the check. Brad Waverly now understood, Tessa would get her way or Tessa would get her way and it was a good idea to let her in most cases. She made her own way in the world and would refuse to owe or perceive to owe for anything.
Brad held her up for a moment. "I'm going to give you this. I see it would be pointless to delay."
Brad handed her a single page after signing it and made a copy.
"Official statement of Real Life Test." Tessa read. "Terry Frost is under supervised care of Brad Waverly, Psychologist, now undergoing the Real Life Test of transition process. Male to female. Et cetera, et cetera. Individual is to be addressed, referred and regarded as female. Yada-yada, so on and all that. Ok so this makes me 'official', yes?"
"Yes. Keep a copy with you at all times. We'll discuss the impact of me giving you that next time." Brad said.
Tessa folded the page in three, carefully, and slipped it into her purse. "You'll have a working timer next time, too."
Brad laughed. "Or else you'll get me one that goes off with a one hundred decibel AH-OOGA! I won't forget."
Tessa gave him a sly look then left.
Back at the park, Demolition continued. Bill found a use for much of the broken concrete and other rubble. It was used to build a ramp off the road going around the back of the park to the new pathway leading to Tessa's house. It was covered by three feet of packed dirt that was seeded with grass. The rest of the debris would be used in the same way for the entrance road to the dormitory area. Dirt work was now underway over there.
In her office, Tessa was searching for staff and cast members to hire. Her objective was to hire as many as she could find within the LGBT community. Especially transgender. She found some that had trades, mostly apprentices. That was fine by her. They would be able to continue training and learning during the construction phase of the park then take over to be the full time laborers after it was complete. By the end of the week, twenty-four new crew would on their way and arrive over the weekend.
Two prospects came as surprise. They were both Registered Nurses that had been run out of their jobs by higher-ups for being transgender. She had found them in a transgender chat-room. An hour phone call with both and they were on their way.
"Two nurses. That's something I hadn't thought about before. Lucky find for me. I guess they could help out with information or something like that until there's an emergency." Tessa mused to herself.
The trailer door opened and a voice called out. "Hello?"
Tessa went to the main room. "Yes?"
A middle-age man with several rolls of plans smiled. "Dominic Hadley. Are you Tessa?"
"Yes. Come in Mister Hadley. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow." Tessa greeted him.
Dominic continued to smile. "I finished the plans for your house and a rough of the dormitory, so I rushed right over."
Tessa waved him over to a long table. "Nice. I'd like to see them then."
Dominic unfurled one roll. "Here we go. This is a design with all the features you said were must-haves."
"I see. Good layout. This outside looks strange though." Tessa commented.
Dominic laughed. "The finishing touch is totally up to you. The exterior can be block, faux log OR FAUX STONE! If you choose the block it'll look contemporary. The log, it will look like a cabin and if you go with the stone, it'll look like a miniature castle or chalet! The balconies can even be done to look like crenelated battlements if you want."
Tessa stared at the drawings and slowly began to smile. A moment later she snerked then began to laugh.
"I take it, you like the castle-chalet idea?" Dominic asked.
Tessa nodded, calming down to a giggle. "Yes. Go with that Mister Hadley. I think it's appropriate."
Dominic looked pleased. "Excellent! Please call me Dominic, Miss Frost. Or shall I start calling you Queen Tessa?"
Tessa smiled back. "Just Tessa will do, Dominic. Let's see the dorm."
He rolled up the house plans and unfurled another roll. "Certainly. I took a liberty, since you wanted so many rooms. I've designed it as an angled H. On each side is a pool. I thought that having two smaller pools and spas, instead of the one big pool and spa would work better. Also, having them located like this, would make them more private. One hundred and thirty rooms, each with attached bath, as you wanted. The middle ground floor is the cafeteria and kitchen. A laundry room for each wing on every floor."
Tessa listened carefully and looked to the points he indicated on the diagram. She liked what he had come up with. He even had covered parking for the dorm residents. The parking lot adjacent to the dorm's lot was for the other cast and staff. She liked what he had planned so far and called for Bill. Bill joined them and looked over both sets off plans.
"I like these Bill. I want them." Tessa said.
Bill nodded. "Yes Ma'am. You want 'em, Your Ladyship will get 'em. Good job Dominic."
Dominic was happy with the praise. "Just wish Dad was here. He'd love to be a part of it. Do it right this time."
"No Dominic." Tessa said then corrected. "It's not just going to be done right, it's going to be even greater."
Dominic thought for a moment then smiled. "I think I'll follow Bill's lead; yes, My Lady."
Tessa giggled when he bowed with a flourish. "Go on you two. Let's get to it."
Wednesday Tessa answered her phone, recognizing the ring tone. "Afternoon Dave."
"I'm in San Diego." Dave informed her.
Tessa commented. "That was quick."
"I drove over yesterday. I'll head back to Vegas this afternoon. I'll be heading back to you Friday." Dave told her. "I already met with my security people Monday afternoon. They want to give notice before they go."
"That's fine. Any problems?" Tessa asked.
Dave answered. "One had to sell his car, so he'll catch a ride with one of the others. All of them are renters here so no need to sell any houses or such. About seven rental trucks will be needed."
Tessa thought about it then said. "Would probably be cheaper and better to hire a couple of eighteen-wheelers and just have them consolidate."
"I'm surprised I didn't think of that. It would." Dave chuckled.
"Good. Now, tell me about why you're in San Diego and how it's going." Tessa said.
"Jennifer Colefield, 34, ex-Navy. Systems operations and management. Widow of a Navy SEAL. Being a single parent now, she was encouraged to retire with a promotion to Lieutenant Commander. Apparently she gets better benefits at that rank." Dave called off, as if reading personal notes.
Tessa was letting that register. A question suddenly seemed relevant. "Dave. Did she lose her husband in combat?"
Dave paused before answering. "Death was a training accident."
"I know bullshit when I hear it." Tessa warned him.
"Not now. Not like this." Dave said.
Tessa understood, it was something that shouldn't be talked about over the phone. "Very well. What else?"
"She has an adorable five year old daughter. You'll love her, she's all about princesses and ponies." Dave chuckled. "Jennifer will meet you in two weeks. I'll send you her info after we hang up."
Tessa asked. "Do you have any cash on you right now?"
"How much do I need?" Dave asked.
"Seven grand." Tessa said.
Dave replied. "I can have it in thirty minutes."
"That's fine. Give her seven grand and tell her I'll have flight reservations for herself and her daughter on the following Friday for the weekend here. I can reimburse you through the Vegas account or the local account, you choose." Tessa stated.
"Local. I already have a card for them. I'll transfer from Vegas on my way back." Dave said.
"Done. Be safe. I want you out of Vegas clean and clear." Tessa instructed.
Dave smiled to himself. "Yes Ma'am. See you Monday."
"Monday." Tessa affirmed then disconnected.
A minute later her email pinged with the information Dave sent. Tessa went online and made the reservations then called the local hotel and made reservations as well. She sent the confirmations to Jennifer Colefield's email along with a brief greeting.
On Friday Bill oversaw the marking off for Tessa's house for Monday, when a crew would begin forming up for the slab. He was expecting to pour the slab on Thursday or Friday.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 4 of
VentureRealm Park |
Monday Bill saw the arrival of a large group of people and the return of Dave Wells. He brought them over.
"Mornin' Dave." Bill greeted him.
Dave was in his usual attire of camo pants and combat boots. He wore a different t-shirt though. This one had the Airborn banner on it.
Dave shook hands with Bill. "Morning Bill."
"Those folks here to help you?" Bill nodded to the group of workers.
Dave smiled and handed him a sheet of paper. "No Sir. They're here to help us. We have an assortment of trades here. Apprentice level and up. They get their pay from us, but get their orders from you."
"They're going to be the staff here after the park is finished." Bill guessed.
"Yes Sir." Dave confirmed then addressed the group. "Ladies, gentlemen. This is Bill Roanoke. He's the contractor. He'll give you your assignments. Clock in at zero-seven at the office trailer then report to Bill for your daily assignments. Work safe, look after yourselves and each other. Any problems, see me first. Let's go to work."
Bill began lining them up by trade then called over his crew leaders. Some of the new people were being sent over with the crew for Tessa's house. The rest were given assignments with the park crew. All the underground services were being dug up. Wire and cable was important. It couldn't be re-used, but it could be recycled. Also were the metal and PVC pipe. Those needed to be recycled as well.
Tuesday, the two nurses arrived. Tessa quickly sent them both to Trent to get their paperwork updated, they had to apply for licenses in that state. Until they were accredited, Tessa had them working in the office. Not that there was much to do. When Dave wasn't out looking over the work, he was in the office working.
Dave Wells was efficiency in motion. He was definitely no stranger to office duty. The man was almost a machine. He was organized to the Nth degree. He was practically all over everything. He even found time to become Red Cross certified for First Aid and CPR. Thursday, the slab was poured for Tessa's house. Friday the framing order arrived. The forming crew shifted over to the dorm site and began working on it. Bill had tweaked the work schedule so that there was work going on every day.
Monday a Framing crew went to work building the walls for Tessa's house. Wednesday, in the park, all the underground services had been removed. Trucks of fill dirt were being brought in. A crew was now demolishing the parking lot. It was asphalt, so it was being sent to a place that would reclaim or re-purpose it. Dave had taken the day off to see to personal business. He stopped by at lunch time and of the workers that saw him, they were impressed by his uniform. He wore the current issue Army dress uniform, which is blue instead of green. Several of Bill's crew were veterans, current National Guardsmen or Reservists themselves and saluted out of habit.
Bill noticed and asked. "Captain. I'm a bit confused. The Army wears dress blues now?"
Dave sighed. "Unfortunately. We switched over back in 2010. Almost eight years now and I still hate it. I liked the Dress Greens better. These Blues make me think D.O.D. wants us to imitate the Marines, but a white shirt? The Navy wears whites, but they complain about being dirt magnets and I can understand."
"I see that's a sore spot for you." Bill remarked. "Now that I've seen 'em, personally, I think the greens looked better too."
Dave chuckled as he headed out. He had spent the morning at the VA building, now he would spend the afternoon at the VA medical building.
He passed eighteen-wheeler dump trucks coming and going from the park. These were the dump-trailer trucks bringing in fill dirt to build up the park's elevation. So far, the weather had been good. It wouldn't last forever though. The forecast was predicting rain in the next two days. Rain that would last for at least four to five days. This would slow down the work at the park. That was the down-side. The up-side was that it would settle the dirt and help it compact.
Tessa had been shopping for rides and now had reps from three companies over with the Park designer, Dominic Hadley. One of Tessa's hires was a landscaper and was also consulting. She had also found two industrial mechanics and four electrical engineers right out of the local technical college after the suggestion of the reps. If she sent them to their facilities, they would train them to service the rides. She hired them and sent them out. The training would take almost a year.
Thursday morning it was cloudy. That afternoon it began to drizzle. All crews were called to secure the site and park the equipment over by the office trailers. An hour later it began to rain as the crews waited under pavilion by the trailers where they usually had lunch. It was light, but obvious that the bottom could fall out at anytime. Another hour passed without a let-up so Bill sent all his regular crew home for the day, except for certain crew leaders. He had them work with Tessa's workers on any academics they needed for accreditation. When Tessa asked what was going on, she acted in her usual way. She had the teaching crew's time shifted to her own and informed them that the next morning they would have use of the hotel's conference room to continue the teaching and testing.
Friday the two nurses received their licenses from the state. Tessa surprised them with several polo shirts embroidered with the park logo and their names. Also they were given skirts that coordinated to the shirts. Both were beside themselves with joy. In typical female fashion, both spent the next ten minutes debating the right shoes to wear with the new uniform. Tessa recommended a light sport shoe, then showed them a model on a website. The nurses liked the look and said so. Tessa grinned and told them she had already ordered them two pairs each. They laughed, as they should have known she would do that.
The rain continued through the weekend. Monday morning it finally started to break as Tessa pulled in the old gate. She noticed the nurses standing back from a group of workmen peering and pointing under her office trailer.
Tessa got out and heard the men calling out angrily. Something was under the trailer and they didn't want it there. It took them a moment to realize she was there and suddenly grew quiet as they all turned to look at her.
"Is this a new thing for the crew to start a week?" Tessa asked.
One of the workman slipped off his hardhat and said. "When we pulled in, your ladies there pointed and said somethin' was under your trailer Miss Frost. We was about to go under and drag 'em out. Ma'am."
Tessa remembered this man was called Grady and he ran one of bulldozers. "Exactly what is under my office Mister Grady?"
"Just Grady, Miss Frost. It's, uh, not a what. It's a who. We don't know who though. Me and Fred was about to go up under there Ma'am." Grady replied.
Tessa began approaching the trailer, the steps of her high heels were sharp on the concrete. Quickly the workers moved to give her a path. She didn't bend down when she reached it.
"Whoever you are under there; I'd like you to come out from under my office. The men have better things to do for me than this and my office staff do as well. I'm Tessa Frost and you'll be talking to me." Tessa said clearly.
After a moment of silence, Grady and another workman start to come forward.
Tessa held up her hand to stop them. "That won't be necessary gentlemen. This person will come out on their own. We don't have all day, but I will not have someone be treated like a mongrel. There's work to be done."
A moment later there was a shifting and scuffling sound and a head slowly came out from under the trailer. A man that had quite clearly seen better years slowly looked up.
"I'm waiting." Tessa reminded.
The temperature was cool, but not so much Tessa felt the need personally for a jacket or even long sleeves. She wore a lightweight pale blue dress and white high heels. The rough looking man though was clearly shivering.
"Bring this man some coffee." Tessa said without looking around.
Quickly one of the workmen rushed over to Bill's office and came back with a Styrofoam cup. "Right here Miss Frost."
"Thank you." Tessa took it and offered it to the man. "Here. You look like you need it."
Shaking hands reached out and carefully took the cup, as if it held the elixir of life itself. Slowly he drank. Of those close by, the smell of the man made them edge back unconsciously. Tessa though, remained where she was unfazed.
"Leslie." Tessa spoke to one of the nurses. "Go get something from drive-thru for him."
Leslie nodded. "Yes Ma'am."
Bill's work truck pulled in and he got out. "What's going on?"
Grady went over and spoke quickly and quietly to fill him in.
Bill nodded. "Ok Grady. You all go on and get to working. I'll keep an eye on things here."
Slowly the men went off to their jobs, not wanting to leave Tessa possibly vulnerable. Bill looked to Tessa and nodded to the man then the tables under the pavilion.
"Let's go over to the tables over there." Tessa said then turned and walked over that way.
Hesitantly the man followed, glancing over to Bill nervously. He was still shivering and looked to be completely soaked from the rains and mud-splattered. He sat down where Tessa pointed and hunched over the now empty cup that was still steaming. He looked to have been on the streets for a long time from the state of his hair and the length of beard.
Tessa's eyes never wavered. "As I said before, my name is Tessa Frost. Who are you?"
"Z-Zeke." The man croaked out.
Tessa guessed the man wasn't shivering from the actual temperature, but more likely from illness. Malnourished, lack of sanitation and exposure would weaken a person and make them susceptible to illness.
"Bill. Bring him some more coffee please." Tessa requested.
Bill shook his head. "He can have some more, but I ain't about to leave you alone, Your Ladyship. No Ma'am."
Bill leaned in the door and called for the coffee pot. It was handed to him and he went over and refilled the cup.
"Pshew! Son, you're rank!" Bill declared.
Tessa said flatly. "I think that may the least of the problems here Bill, but thank you for pointing that out."
Leslie pulled back in, followed by Dave Wells. Both came over to the pavilion. Tessa took the food bag and handed it to Zeke.
"Thank you Leslie." Tessa said to her then turned to Zeke. "That food is for you Mister Zeke. I suggest you eat it. When you are done, I'll ask some questions."
Dave spoke up. "Just one thing first Tessa. Full name Zeke."
Zeke waited to take the bag. "Zeke. Malone."
"Zeke Malone. Ok. You eat, I'll be back." Dave said then went to the trailer.
Zeke took the bag and slowly ate. Tessa waited. She could tell by the way he was eating, he had been starving but knew to eat slow or risk not holding it down. She had seen it before, in the group home. A brother and sister had been brought in, it was easy to see they had been living in alleys and other hiding places. Both had eaten so fast, they promptly threw up, then cried and huddled in the corner out of fear. Tessa knew street-wild when she saw it. She also knew what to do about it.
She continued to wait as Zeke took his time to finish the food. Dave came back and handed her a sheet of paper.
"Zeke Malone. Age 31. No home of record. No contact information. Misdemeanors; vagrancy, loitering. No warrants." Dave recited.
Bill looked over. "You sure Dave?"
"Positive." Dave assured.
Tessa looked over to the man. "Is that true Mister Malone?"
Zeke nodded. He still looked nervous.
"Alright then. I'll give you a choice. I can give you two hundred dollars right now and Bill will take you into town to the shelter. Or, I can have Bill take you somewhere to clean up and get you some clean clothes. You give Dave your fingerprints and if you come back clean, I'll hire you to work with my people. You can stay at the hotel and I'll pay you cash for two weeks to get on your feet. After that, you get paid like everybody else." Tessa said.
Zeke nodded. "I'll work. Ma'am."
"Dave." Tessa nodded to Dave and turned to Bill. "Handle it."
Dave reached into the thigh pocket of his pants and pulled out a pad and fingerprint sheet. Zeke gave Dave his hands and let himself be fingerprinted.
Tessa was about to walk away to the office, but turned around and said to him. "I'm giving you a chance Mister Malone. Don't disappoint me."
Bill waved to him. "Come on. You're gonna ride in the back though."
Zeke climbed into the back of Bill's truck and they left. Two hours later they returned and the difference was dramatic. Zeke looked gaunt but clean. He had even shaved off the beard and given himself a ragged haircut. The clothes looked old, but clean. Bill led him into Tessa's trailer.
"Here he is." Bill announced.
Dave nodded rounding his desk. "Thanks Bill. Have a seat Zeke."
Zeke sat down in the chair Dave had pointed at.
Leslie came in with her bag and began to take his vital signs.
"Well. He's running a slight fever and he's nervous." Leslie informed Dave then asked. "Have you any cuts or bitten by anything?"
Zeke shook his head. "No Ma'am. Are you a doctor?"
"I'm a nurse. Mister Wells, I suggest he get checked out, but that's just me." Leslie stated.
Dave noted her suggestion. "Do you need to see a doctor, Zeke? If you do, say so now."
"I'll be ok." Zeke said then asked. "Could I have some water or more coffee?"
"Yes, I have both." Dave said.
Dave gave him a cup of coffee and bottle of water. The coffee went fast and he started on the water.
Dave handed him a clipboard with papers and a pen. "Fill these out Zeke."
Zeke started to write then looked up. "I don't know what day it is."
Dave gave him the date. Zeke filled out as much as he could. He reached into the pants pocket, pulled out an expired driver's license and handed it, along with the clipboard back to Dave. Dave wasn't looking at it though.
"You served in the Marines from 03 to 07, Rifleman. A Corporal in your Platoon, you were on a four-man Fire Team as the Team Leader. You got out on Medical, shoulder was broken in Afghanistan. You can't shoot a rifle. You came here and worked for a while. You worked for a warehouse that was run into the ground. After that, all that was available was grunt work, physical labor and your shoulder couldn't handle it. No work, no unemployment, eventually you went out into the streets. Is that about it?" Dave asked.
Zeke was surprised. How could he know all that?
"Yes Sir." Zeke answered. "You really Army?"
"Captain Dave Wells, I resigned a couple of years ago. Now I work for Tessa Frost." Dave said then pointed to Tessa standing in the doorway.
"Ma'am." Zeke stood up and nodded to her then slowly saluted Dave. "Skipper."
Tessa walked over and looked at Zeke. "They say on TV, the Marines are a few good men. Is that so?"
"Yes Ma'am." Zeke said firmly. The first time his voice showed strength and pride.
Tessa nodded to Dave. "Dave says that you got hurt in the war and have had a hard time since then. If I give you a chance, will you disappoint me?"
"No Ma'am!" Zeke said firmly, standing at attention.
"So if I give you a job to do, you'll do it?" Tessa asked.
Zeke answered fast. "Yes Ma'am!"
Tessa looked over to Dave. "What do you call it, when you get somebody taken care of to do what they need to do?"
"Squared-Away." Dave replied.
"I'm having a building delivered in a couple of hours. It'll be for a guard at night. Get Mister Malone Squared-Away, as you call it." Tessa said then held out an envelope. "This is an advance of pay Mister Malone. Two weeks. Dave will take you to do what needs to be done then the hotel. He'll bring you back at six this evening. This is your chance."
Gently Zeke took the envelope, his eyes glazing with tears threatening to leak. "I won't disappoint you Ma'am. I swear it."
Leslie spoke up. "Miss Frost? I really think he should see a doctor, just to be safe. He is running a fever."
"Make it happen." Tessa said and went back to her office.
Work went on through the week. On Friday, Dave brought in a woman and her daughter.
"Tessa, Jennifer Colefield and her daughter, Bethany." Dave announced.
Tessa stood up and came around her desk. "Welcome Mrs. Colefield. I'm Tessa Frost."
Jennifer shook hands then Tessa bent down to the little girl and smiled. "Hello Bethany."
Bethany smiled shyly. "Hi."
"Please have a seat. Would you like a drink? Would you Bethany?" Tessa asked then sat down in the chair beside her.
Jennifer nodded. "Just a water, we'll share it."
Dave reappeared and handed Jennifer the bottle. "Here you go. Anything else?"
"Thank you. This will do us just fine." Jennifer nodded.
Dave left them to talk.
"Ok Miss Frost. What can I do for you?" Jennifer asked.
Tessa liked she was straight-forward. "I'm looking for a computer specialist. This is going to be an amusement park and many things here will be computerized. Plus there's the website and social media and so on. I'm told I will need someone that can maintain very complicated systems. Does that sound like a challenge you are up for?"
"Who would be my boss?" Jennifer asked.
Tessa pointed to herself. "Me. You would answer to nobody, but me. You would be in total charge of all computer systems for the park. You would run the team of technicians that maintain those systems."
Tessa handed her some papers. Jennifer read them over.
"Ok. That's a serious package." Jennifer remarked.
Tessa asked. "Is that a yes?"
"To be honest, I'd have to be a complete idiot to say no." Jennifer remarked seriously. "Yes. I'll take your offer."
Tessa handed her a pen. Jennifer eased Bethany off her lap and leaned to the desk to sign it then handed it back.
Tessa went out and came back, handing her a copy. "Here is your copy. What do you need?"
"I'll need to get a place here then go back and pack up our apartment. When do you want me here?" Jennifer asked.
Tessa sat back behind her desk. "How about the first of the month?"
There were three weeks left of the current month.
Jennifer nodded. "That works. Do you know somebody I can talk to about a place?"
"I'll have my lawyer Trent get you with the right person for that tomorrow morning." Tessa assured her.
Bethany piped up. "Are you really gonna be a queen?"
Tessa laughed. "That's right. When I was little, I wanted to be a princess. Now that I've grown up, I'll be a queen instead."
"I wanna be a princess!" Bethany said.
Tessa smiled. "Maybe you will be someday."
Jennifer arched an eyebrow at the statement.
"This park will have princesses. Maybe one day she can be one of them." Tessa said.
"Can I Momma? Please?" Bethany plead.
Jennifer patted her back. "We'll see, but you'll have to ask Miss Frost about it though when you get old enough."
"Ut-uh Momma. We can't call her Miss. She's the Queen. We have to call her Queen Tessa!" Bethany corrected her.
Dave chuckled at the doorway. "I think you might be right, pipsqueak."
Bethany giggled then stopped and whispered to her mother.
Jennifer nodded then asked. "Do you have a restroom in here?"
Tessa nodded. "It's back down the hall. On the left."
"I can go." Bethany said then went to find it.
Tessa smiled. "She's adorable."
"A treasure. It's been hard on her though." Jennifer admitted.
"Dave mentioned your husband had died in service. I'm very sorry." Tessa said. "A training accident, was it?"
Jennifer sighed. "That's the official statement."
"I don't follow." Tessa commented.
Jennifer nodded. "You wouldn't. My husband was a SEAL. The only time SEALs are announced as KIA, is when the media knows about it. That's all there is to say about it."
Tessa sighed. "I see. I won't pry. I will say though, if you need help, come to me or if it is with the military, confide with Dave. Also, just call me Tessa."
"Thank you Tessa. I'm already starting to think we're going to like it here." Jennifer confided.
When Bethany came back Jennifer took her hand and they left, waving.
Every morning, Zeke unlocked the gates and nodded to the work crews as they came in. He even went over to open the car doors for the two nurses and especially Tessa before going back to the hotel to sleep for the day. As soon as he came in every evening he went around and checked any gates and locked them. Dave wasn't surprised that for clothing Zeke had simply bought for himself khaki cargo pants, similar to BDUs and black polo shirts and black ball cap. The fever he had, came from exposure to the elements and malnutrition and was gone with two days.
Over the next month Zeke recovered from his time on the streets, put on weight and even exercised as he could to make sure it was healthy weight. Dave got him registered for care at the Veterans' clinic and even re-issued a Marine Class-A uniform. He was even more surprised when Tessa came to him with a box. Inside were polo shirts with the park logo, his name and security under that. A ball cap in the same color was inside that had the logo and security on it. She also told him he would begin the Security Guard training course the following week and she expected him to complete it with the top rank. He did exactly that and showed her the certificate. Tessa personally pinned a badge she had in her desk on his shirt. The next day a side-by-side was delivered that had Security decals applied on it and the flashing yellow light bar.
Bill looked over at Dave Wells as Zeke walked around it in wonder. "Dave, is it my imagination or does he look like he's trying not to cry?"
"Not your imagination." Dave confirmed.
Bill lifted up his hat and scratched his head. "Still don't know why Her Ladyship would take the chance on that guy. She was gonna do it before you even told her he'd been in the service. He didn't look no better than a stray. Why?"
"Because I wasn't much better than a stray, at one time." Tessa said behind them.
Bill looked sheepish. "Sorry. I didn't mean."
Tessa held up her hand to stop him. "It's fine Bill. I had the feeling that all he needed was a chance and he'd make good. After Dave told me he had been in the Marines and why he wasn't anymore, I knew I was right. When he got to the point he was being forced to ask for help, he was too ashamed to. He felt like he didn't matter anymore and just wanted to fade away."
Dave knew now why she had done it. She saw in Zeke, what had been looming for Dave. It was a last chance at salvation. Now Dave saw a look in Zeke's eyes every time he saw Tessa. The man would lay down and die for Tessa, without even needing to be asked. From the second they met, she treated him like a man, not something for contempt. Dave Wells suspected that the man went to sleep and woke up, thanking God for the appearance of Tessa Frost.
To Dave Wells, some things were certain. The sun would rise in the East, the government could not function without red tape and the people Tessa hired personally would do anything she asked without fail. Including himself. He knew that, just as sure as he knew that everyone on the site now called him Captain Dave, except Tessa and Bill.
Work continued to progress. The walls of Tessa's house were up along with the plywood decking of the roof. They were now putting on the faux stone facing and the shingles. Over at the dorm site, the slab had been poured and finished. In the park, the main complex was at its final elevation. The parking lot area was almost to its desired level. Soon they would begin installing the lighting and pouring the concrete for it.
Tessa, Bill and Dave met in Tessa's trailer and watched as Dominic Hadley unrolled a diagram proudly.
"MiLady. Gentlemen." Dominic announced. "I give you, VentureRealm Park!"
Tessa looked over the main drawing. Carefully she examined then nodded. "I like it, Dominic. Well done. Bill, make this happen."
Bill and Dave looked it over. Both of them stared in wonder.
"This is amazing!" Dave remarked.
Bill reached over and patted Dominic on the back. "Dominic, you beat all I ever seen. When her Ladyship said we weren't gonna do this right, we're gonna do it even greater, you took her to heart. Your Daddy'd sure be proud of you, son."
Dominic brought out another, more technical drawing. "Captain Dave, I think you're going to like this. It's the security overview. With those special cameras you want, there will only be two blindspots and you said those would be manned locations."
After those being pointed out, Dave nodded. "Outstanding! You are definitely high-speed, low-drag, Dominic. You have my approval, too."
"I'm glad to serve." Dominic bowed to Tessa. "Queen Tessa."
They all laughed. Tessa walked over and kissed his cheek. Bill took the technical drawings over to his trailer. At the end of the day, all the crews came in and were directed over to stand in front of Tessa's trailer.
Tessa waited as they all quieted down then smiled. "Everyone, the news is fantastic. Mister Hadley has finished the layout. Presenting VentureRealm park!"
A large drawing in color was unrolled. It was big enough many could see easily. After a couple of minutes, applause began then cheers followed.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed
Chapter 5 of
VentureRealm Park |
Now that the crews had seen the drawing of the park, they worked at a furious pace. Except for the workers Tessa had brought in, they were all familiar with the old park. The new park was definitely different and would be spectacular. Everyone was eager to see it finished. Two more trailers were brought and signs were placed on them, one for Security and one for Technical Systems.
Tessa had hired two people from the local technical college to work Accounting after Dave moved his office over to the Security Trailer. Jennifer Colefield completed her move and began setting up her office in the Tech.Systems trailer. Tessa encouraged Jennifer to bring Bethany to work with her as school was out, instead of a daycare center. Jennifer appreciated that and Bethany was thrilled, as once or twice during the day, Dave or one of the nurses would take her for a ride around the park in the Medic Cart.
A welcome addition came when Tessa had a play area set up behind the trailers and invited the workers who had children Bethany's age to spend their week days there. The two nurses, Leslie and Tracey, alternated days watching over the kids. Tessa informed Jennifer that she would organize a daycare for park employees that had children below school age and for those too young to look after themselves after school.
Tessa rode with Dave over to her house site on a Friday in his Security cart. The crew there needed her to decide where various things should placed. Electrical outlets, cable, switches and so on. The crew leader told her that the dry-wall would be going up the following week. A plumber and an electrician would be installing the emergency generator that ran off natural gas would be installed then as well. Already they had an excavator digging for the swimming pool and spa.
"You're doing a fantastic job over here Lance." Tessa commended the crew leader.
Lance pointed to the crew. "The credit goes to the folks Miss Frost. You hired 'em and they're doing a first-rate job Ma'am."
Tessa nodded. "I believe I hire the right people, Lance."
The crew leader couldn't argue, as he was included, so he chuckled. "This is where I'm supposed to say Yes Ma'am, so I will. Yes Ma'am."
"Very good Lance." Tessa gave a sly smile as she climbed into the cart with Dave.
Lance waved as they drove away and said to himself. "You're somethin' else Queen Tessa. You're gonna be a legend for a long time."
Dave drove them over to the dorm site. The crew there were working on the exterior walls now. The building looked like an inverted pentagon. Two V's pointing at each other connected with a central hall. The dorm would house 130 cast and staff members. The ground floor of the central hall would have a security office, two common rooms, a mail room and the cafeteria. Each floor and wing would have a laundry room. Dorm residents would also have the benefit of covered parking in their lot with area at the two far ends for car maintenance stations. They would be able to clean the inside, wash their cars and even do minor service such as oil changes there.
Tessa didn't stop to talk to the crew leader there as he was on top of things.
"All go, no quit." Dave remarked.
Tessa nodded. "They're doing it right and I like what I see."
The crew leader looked down and saw them so he called over the radio. "Need somethin' Cap'n Dave?"
"We're good, Jerry. Tessa and I were riding around and passed by to see how it's going here." Dave answered.
Jerry called. "Hey there Queen Tessa. We're all over it here. Looking good. Want I should come down and show you?"
Tessa took the radio. "No need Jerry. I can see what I need to and I like it. Stay on it Jerry."
"Whatever you say Queen Tessa." Jerry replied then off-radio yelled out. "QUEEN TESSA SAYS WE'RE GOOD, SO LET'S STAY ON IT!"
"YEAH!" A chorus of workers called out.
Tessa held onto the side of the cart as she stood up and waved. All within sight waved back and went on with the work. Tessa smiled and sat back in the cart.
"Onward, Captain Dave." Tessa chuckled.
Dave didn't miss a beat. "As you wish My Queen. Hi-ho Can-Am, AWAY!"
Tessa laughed as he drove off. She liked that his demeanor had been changing. In Vegas he had been very uptight, as of late he seemed to be more easy-going. He had went down to the VA after Tessa hired Zeke for nights and found another veteran that was having a difficult time adjusting and finding work. Dave hired him after talking with him to work the guard shack during the day. He had been a SARC, Special Amphibious Reconnaissance Corpsman and saw his fair share of action in Iraq. He worked the shack during the day, took the night course for Security Guard. After he completed the course, and Tessa pinned on his badge, Dave informed him his next task was to apply for a Paramedic License with ACLS certification.
That proved to be fairly straight forward and Mark Crandal became the park's primary First Responder. After that, Mark was given new red polo shirts that had First Responder on the back and a matching ball cap. Mark felt pride well up as he took the box of spare shirts from Tessa along with a word of congratulations. Dave gave him a badge-holder that clipped to his belt for his Security Guard badge.
Mark stood proudly and saluted. "Thank you Skipper. Ma'am. I'm grateful!"
"One of these days, I'm going to finally stop looking for a boat when you and Zeke call me Skipper." Dave joked.
"Sorry." Mark chuckled then turned serious. "It's just that you remind me alot of my team leader. He looked after us. Best man I ever served under. You're just like him. I don't know what was going to happen to me if you and Queen Tessa hadn't showed up. I can't say thanks enough."
Tessa nodded. "I believe I understand Mark. We have a lot of people here working, after that, there will be people here to enjoy the park. I hope it won't be needed, but they may need your help. Do all you can for them and us."
"Aye aye Ma'am." Mark said proudly then saluted Dave.
It was the end of the day, so Mark went to clock out, passing Zeke who was clocking in.
"Lookin' sharp there Sailor." Zeke nodded.
Mark nodded back. "Thanks Marine. See you in the mornin'."
Monday found Tessa starting her day in session with her psychologist.
"So Mark is now in a position of prestige?" Brad confirmed.
Tessa nodded. "Yes. As I understand it, he looked after the physical well-being of the team he was on. From the way Dave explained it, the team was family to men like that. They lived or died because of each other. For Mark, his position made him feel responsible for them. That he was as important to them, as they were to him. I'd like to try giving that back to him. That feeling of being part and not just needed, but wanted as well. I want Zeke to feel the way. That he matters."
Brad went on that. "What about you? Do you feel that you matter?"
"Yes. It's my dream that they are all working to make come true. That's why we are all there." Tessa replied.
"And you personally? They see you as the woman, Tessa, not just the person paying them?" Brad asked.
Tessa shrugged. "I have no idea. You really expect them to speak against the person paying them?"
Brad regarded her intently. "Money doesn't change everybody."
"True. There does come a point though, where money will talk and bullshit will walk. When somebody has to pay bills, hatred and stupidity are not accepted forms of currency." Tessa pointed out.
Brad decided to shift things slightly. "What about when hormones have their effects and on your body?"
Tessa laughed. "You really think they'll notice when my lips, hips and tits become real instead of silicone and padding?"
Brad had to contain his laughter at her bluntness. "Well, I believe your apparel may become more daring when they are."
"You might be right about that." Tessa laughed.
"Since we are on the subject of hormones, would this be a good stage to begin them?" Brad asked.
Tessa nodded. "Actually, yes. The people immediately around me would understand the emotional effects."
Brad looked surprised. "They all know?"
"Everyone I hire personally is aware. I'm not hiding. If they can't accept me, then they won't accept others and I can't have that." Tessa said flatly.
"So I could give you the letter of recommendation today?" Brad asked.
Tessa nodded. "Sure. It would probably be better to do it now, as opposed to later. It would be hard to explain to vendors and so on that, 'no I'm not upset at your product or price, it's just that I thought the logo for it was so cute I went to pieces because I'm on hormones right now'."
Brad chuckled. "Yes, I see your point. That could be a delicate situation."
Brad opened a portfolio and held out a page. Tessa took it and read.
"The letter." Tessa stated. "Thank you."
"No whoops? No emphatic 'YES'?" Brad asked.
Tessa looked at him confused. "I'm taking a step forward Brad, not clearing the Grand Canyon from a standing jump."
"Interesting." Brad commented.
Tessa sighed. "One step at the time Brad. There's a lot of steps to cover a mile. After that, you don't stop. Even after my final surgery, I'm not done. I'll just be on the right road, going to the same place everybody goes."
Brad regarded her closely. "Where is that?"
"I don't know." Tessa replied.
"You don't?" Brad asked.
Tessa shook her head then asked. "Do you?"
"The rest of your life." Brad replied.
Tessa shook her head. "After that. Where does everybody go?"
Brad now understood. "I guess, death."
"Is that where everybody stops? It seems that way. Though, many argue that there's more. I don't know, so I have to say so. I don't know." Tessa explained. "The only thing I do know for sure is; we all die sometime. How and when varies, but everybody does die."
"I see your point. Do you think there is a 'more'?" Brad asked.
Tessa shrugged. "I have no proof. Usually when somebody says they've been there, they get blown off. The same could be said for me, is there actual proof I am correct, that I should be a woman? If there was, I wouldn't need you. Even with your letters and all that, there are people that refuse to accept. They argue that it's all a hoax. That I'm confused. Some want to throw in the God aspect. That God made me a certain way and going against that way is sinful, wrong and damnable. They can't actually prove that, but they'll keep throwing it out there."
Brad was surprised. She presented the opposing point of view and showed it for just that; a point of view. She also put him on the spot as well. Nice trick, accept that one didn't really know what happens after death or reveal an unsubstantiated belief.
"Very clever Tessa. You have me at a fork with no way back." Brad admitted then laughed. "I feel like I dug a hole for you to fall in and you challenged me to see if it was deep enough, so I jumped in!"
Tessa began to laugh. "Wasn't planned, but I like it!"
The timer gave a soft beep.
"I think that's a good place to leave off for now. Very good Tessa, you actually got me." Brad shook his head.
Tessa chuckled as she wrote out a personal check and laid it on the coffee table. Brad handed her a pre-written receipt. As Tessa got into her car, she called a local endocrinologist. She had an appointment in thirty minutes. An hour and half later, Tessa had a prescription for testosterone blocking pills and small bandage on her right buttock from the injection. Using her better judgement, she went to her apartment for the rest of the day and worked mostly by phone and computer.
Three weeks later Tessa walked into the house and began looking around. The tips of her heels clicked on the tile floor. The tiles were ceramic, but looked marble. The wall were a soft white, carpets were light grey and cabinets were a lighter white. She walked from room to room smiling. On the balcony for her bedroom, she looked down to see the spa already filled and water now filling the swimming pool.
Tessa went back downstairs and out the front door. Everyone that had worked on the house stood waiting on the grass.
"It's beautiful. I love it!" Tessa told them and smiled. "Thank you so much!"
Lance, ever the prankster, called out. "HAIL, QUEEN TESSA!"
The crew echoed. "QUEEN TESSA!"
They all went down on one knee.
Tessa laughed. "Oh get up, all of you. You did a fantastic job. I'm showing my appreciation with a bonus and say thank you again. It's Friday. Take the rest of the day off and enjoy your weekend!"
The crew cheered and made their way to the trailer, pulled by a tractor, to bring them back to the office trailers. Lance held out a set of keys to Tessa.
"All yours now." Lance said.
Tessa smiled and took them. "Thank you Lance. Enjoy your weekend."
Bill chuckled. "What about you? Are you going to enjoy your weekend?"
"Of course. I'm going to spend the rest of the day shopping for my new home." Tessa laughed.
The next day saw the arrival of delivery trucks for appliances, furniture and electronics. Monday, work resumed for everyone, though Tessa was back over at her house for the phone company and satellite TV technicians. Just after lunch, the house was ready to move into. It took to late morning to get all her things packed at the apartment Tuesday and Bill came over in his own truck to haul the boxes. On Wednesday the local charity came by to pick up the furniture she bought from the rental store. Tessa even paid for a maid service to clean and had a carpet service steam clean all the carpet. The owner, who lived next door, tried to give Tessa her deposit back. Tessa waved it off and hugged him.
Lance and his crew had joined Jerry's crew at the dorm on Monday. Fresh from the weekend and motivated by the bonus and Tessa's praise, they dove into the work. This fired up the rest of the workers.
At Lunch Jerry, with Lance standing by, announced. "You all heard Queen Tessa gave the house crew a bonus. Well, she did. They did the job right and nobody got hurt other than an ouchie. Now I wanted to save it for a surprise, but she said the dorm crew will get a bonus. That bonus comes with conditions. We gotta do it up right. Nobody can get hurt. Those're the two big things for her. Safe and right!"
"We can do that. Me and my crew are jumping in with you. Together, we can get it done! Don't you all want her to smile and be proud of you? Made me and my bunch feel great! More than just building a house, felt like we built a real castle!" Lance called out.
Jerry nodded. "The house was for Queen Tessa, but the dorm is for the park people. She wants them to come in here and have no problem calling it home. A community. Maybe even family to each other. Here's our chance to do that. The old park didn't have anything like that. Those folks didn't thnk like that. Queen Tessa does. She thinks about the people. She even thinks about us. We can't let her down. We gotta step up, for her and the folks she's gonna have here!"
"Yeah! So let's make sure that their home is the best!" Lance said.
With that, lunch was over and the crew went back to work. None had seen Dave standing outside by an open window listening. Quietly, he slipped out. If Tessa knew how those workers felt, she'd more than likely cry. As of late, she had finally gotten her emotions back under control. However, she was more expressive with them now. The former Intelligence Captain understood after having it explained by the two nurses, as they had already completed their transitional processes. Every other Friday evening, one of them administered Tessa's injection.
Over the weekend, relaxing in her new house, Tessa searched the internet. She was searching for cast and crew members. It was a balancing act; finding people that fit the park's needs that were at high risk where they were. It wasn't easy and she was chatting with them to screen them without letting on as to why. Late Saturday night she suspected she had hit pay dirt. A video posted from a patron in a club in New Orleans featured an alleged transgender performer that actually sang instead of lip-synced while she danced. The girl looked young. Late teens to early twenties. The video quality wasn't that great as it had been shot with a phone.
Quickly Tessa tried to send a message.
I'm very curious about the performer. Is there a way I could contact her personally? I'd like to see more of her performances if possible.
A few moments later she received a message with a name and an email address. She copied it and sent off an email.
Ms. Nicole,
Hello. My name is Tessa Frost and I saw the video of your performance. I would like to know if you have other performances on video that I could see, preferably of better quality than a phone video?
Tessa Frost.
She was very surprised when an email came back ten minutes later.
Tessa Frost,
I'm sorry I don't have any personally, actually I didn't know person make video until they tell you message about. I'll try borrow video camera and do something for you. I assume you have club and want book me. I tell you now, I don't lip-sync. The voice you hear is real me. For that reason I charge more than many performers. I am financing my transition. Another thing, travel distance. The further I have to go, the more I charge. I think once you see a better video of me, you'll see quality is worth it. I send it this email.
Nicole Benoit
Tessa went to enjoy a bubblebath in her large garden-style tub. After that, she went to bed. It was late Sunday afternoon when she checked her email and found a new message from Nicole. Tessa read it, general information with an estimated price. Tessa giggled that she had added a note that it was just a preliminary price and final quote would be when Tessa told her of the location. There was also a video attachment. Tessa played it and was soon smiling. Nicole left no doubt, singing acapella. She sang two songs, one a pop tune and the other seemed to be in French so Tessa assumed it was a local song. Afterward Nicole told two jokes then addressed her on camera.
"I hope that clear things up Tessa." Nicole said then finished in a heavy accent. "I be waitin' hear back from you, Yeah?"
Tessa laughed to herself. "Oh she's a real character!"
In the information was a phone number so Tessa called it.
"Yeah?" An accented feminine voice answered.
Tessa smiled and said. "Tessa Frost here, hello Nicole."
"Ah bonjour Mam'selle Tessa. How ya'll?" Nicole asked.
Tessa chuckled. "I'm well. I just got through watching the video you sent. I am impressed! I'd like to video chat. Can you do that?"
"M'yeah Cha." Nicole replied.
A minute later the two were looking at each other.
"Cha, look at you!" Nicole exclaimed. "So pretty! What you need me for?"
Tessa smiled. "Why thank you! Well I won't lie to you. I'm not wanting you to come for a night. I'm looking to hire full time. How would you feel about that? Steady pay, housing, benefits. Would you be interested in that?"
Nicole looked at her warily. "What I do?"
"Exactly what I saw you do. Sing, dance, maybe tell some jokes. Do it with that cajun theme. Can you do that? You'd be the lead in the show. Two shows a day and the rest of the time you'd kind of wander around and pose for pictures and give directions." Tessa said.
Nicole looked puzzled and asked. "Directions? How big is this club?"
Tessa laughed. "It's not a club, it's an amusement park!"
"Only park I know havin' a cajun theme is under six foot of bayou, Cha. Six Flags Nawlin's been swamped since Katrina and ain't gonna clean up no time soon." Nicole said flatly in her accent.
Tessa shook her head. "My park isn't there. Pretty far off. Well I told you about the job. Here's what you get; prime pay, a great room in the on-site dormitory, full medical and dental insurance that covers transition. No rent and all meals in the dorm are free. Basic cable and internet are free too. How much did you make for your show last night?"
"I get fifty dollar bookin' and a little over hundred in tip." Nicole said. "There was six others there so I only do two set."
Tessa looked at her intently. "A thousand dollars plus round trip plane tickets and I'll even pay for a hotel room, just to come see me in person."
Nicole didn't let up though. "I ain't gotta do nothin' shady?"
Tessa shook her head. "Strictly on the up 'n up. Real deal job."
Nicole sat for a long couple of minutes then asked. "For true? No lie? A real job?"
"A real job. How would you like to be Princess Nicole?" Tessa asked.
Nicole looked hopeful for a moment then devastated. "I got problem. Knew this too good be true."
"What do you mean?" Tessa asked.
Nicole sighed. "You seem nice 'nough. I no lie. I got juvie record. I run'way after I get rape at foster home. I live on streets since 16. I never get busted but cops know I turn some trick to stay free. I 18 now, prove it too. I legal and don't turn trick no more, but some know I did. Understand you don't want now."
"What will I find if I run your prints? Be honest." Tessa said.
Nicole shook her head. "Just I run'way, that it. Nobody look for me. Swear it."
Tessa nodded. "Ok. I'll believe you for now. Offer stands, a thousand plus expenses to come see for yourself. I'm going to run your prints. You come back clean, you get the offer. Fair enough?"
"Yeah. Fair 'nough. I come see you." Nicole agreed.
"I need your real name." Tessa said.
"Nicole is real name now. Nicole Benoit. I change it six month ago. I got ID card. No license, can't drive. Never learn how." Nicole said.
Tessa nodded. "That's fine. I'll pick you up myself at the airport. How do I send you money?"
"I got paypal. You can send that way, yeah?" Nicole asked.
"Sure I can send it that way. Give me the account." Tessa told her.
Three minutes later Tessa pulled the video window back up. "Sent."
Nicole looked and came back. "I got. You say you get plane tickets, too?"
Tessa nodded. "I'm booking your flight now. You'll get a confirmation in your email shortly. All you have to do is show up at the counter and tell them your name and destination. Just bring clothes and make-up. They don't like big bottles of anything in your luggage. No nail polish remover so do your nails before coming."
"Ok. I gotta go now. This my friend computer, she let me borrow while out. I see later, yeah." Nicole said then closed out.
Tessa closed out her side and sat back. "Princess number one. Maybe."
For the rest of the afternoon Tessa continued her search.
Monday morning Trent called Tessa to inform her that they had to go back to her home town, for a court appearance the next day. He drove them himself and they stayed at a hotel close in the downtown area. Despite the late arrival and early departure, both were sharp and ready when they appeared at court the next morning. The judge though seemed to be rather harried and barely gave Tessa a second look, pronouncing her name and status change with a simple 'So Ordered' and called for the next case.
"That was anti-climactic." Tessa remarked as they walked out.
A group of people arguing almost ran them both down as Trent tried to pull Tessa out of the way.
Trent sighed after they passed. "Now I see why he wanted us done and out."
"Was that?" Tessa asked pointing to the now closed doors.
Trent nodded. "Yep. Councilman Thompson and his soon-to-be ex-wife. Looks like they're at it again."
"They've remarried and divorced each other seven times now. Right?" Tessa asked.
Trent shook his head. "No. Eleven. They just can't stay away from, or live with, each other. The question is, which one are they doing today? Let's go before it really gets ugly."
Trent drove them straight back and the next day Tessa spend all day going around changing over all her holdings and so on.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 6 of
VentureRealm Park |
Friday afternoon, Tessa stood outside baggage claim waiting. Soon people began to fill the area as luggage began to appear on the carousel. The person she was waiting for took her small bag and approached.
"Hello Nicole." Tessa greeted. "I'm Tessa."
Nicole smiled. "Comment ca va?"
Tessa didn't speak French but figured she was asking how she, or things, were. "Fine, I think. How was your flight?"
"No bad. Guy next to me smell cheap cigar and stale beer. Could been worse." Nicole remarked. "Could been interest in me for that mile-high club thing I hear about."
Tessa laughed. "Does sound like that would be worse."
Nicole nodded. "Regardez."
Tessa looked to where she was indicating and saw a very disheveled man yanking his suitcase from the carousel. "That's him?"
"Uh-huh. Prize winner, yeah?" Nicole commented.
Tessa shook her head, trying not to laugh. "No way in hell. Let's go before he notices us."
"I with you Joli Tessa." Nicole said and followed her out.
Tessa led her out to the parking lot and pointed to her car. "This is me."
"NICE!" Nicole said and set her bag in the backseat and sat in the passenger seat. "Maybe one day, I learn drive one these."
"Maybe. Maybe something better." Tessa replied then pulled away.
Tessa drove to the hotel and had Nicole checked in. "You want to relax or go see what I'm working on?"
Nicole eyed her. "You say you want check me out. We go do that first. Get out way, yeah?"
"That's the right answer. Run your bag up to the room and do what you need. I'll wait." Tessa said.
A few minutes later Nicole was back and they drove over to the park. Tessa led them to the trailer marked Security and went in.
Dave sat at his desk reading something on his computer.
"Nicole, this is Dave Wells. My Head of Security." Tessa introduced. "Dave, this is Nicole. The girl from New Orleans I told you about."
"Hello Nicole. I won't waste time. I need some information and your fingerprints." Dave said.
Nicole nodded. "Yeah. Tessa tell me you do that. Only thing on me is run'way. I don't get no big trouble."
Dave handed her a form to fill out. "That's good. Tessa told me everything you told her. I understand doing what you can to survive. That'll have to change if you work here. Oui?"
"Oui. I don't get no trouble here." Nicole nodded, understanding and added. "I not from New Orleans. I just live there. I from Crown Point. Down road a piece from New Orleans. Just so you know."
Dave chuckled. "Well that explains why your accent is so strong."
Nicole glared. "What you mean 'accent', Yankee-boy? You th' one talk funny."
Dave and Tessa laughed, as Nicole smiled.
Nicole filled out the form then stood to let Dave take her fingerprints. Afterward she used a wipe to clean the ink off her fingers.
"About an hour." Dave said to Tessa and scanned the card in.
"Were you cop?" Nicole asked.
Dave smiled as he sat back in his chair. "Nope. I was in the Army then I worked Casino Security in Vegas. Now I work for Tessa."
"How about I show you around and we come back?" Tessa suggested.
Nicole nodded. "Ok."
Tessa led her over to her own office and showed her the big drawing of the park.
"This is the area where you'll be working. Storm Bayou. Between shows, you wander around the area. Be seen, take pictures with the guests, visit with them, give directions, point out things there for them to check out. Do you cook cajun food?" Tessa asked.
"I cook, yeah." Nicole replied. "I gonna do that too?"
"We'll have cooks there but if they have real cajun recipes, it'll help alot. Food you find in New Orleans." Tessa stated.
Nicole nodded. "I got a notebook full stuff. You want New Orleans flavor you have to order the coffee. Community is big there. They ship here. Community coffee and beignets is official New Orleans. After that; po'boys, ettoufee and creole, jambalaya and gumbo. Everybody have Red Beans and rice too. Not gonna be easy get much crawfish up here, but shrimp used just as much for things."
Tessa thought then asked. "Is there a place that handles all that? I can order all the seafood from that place and have it trucked here?"
"Yeah. I think they put other stuff too. Boudin and sausage." Nicole said then froze and blurted out. "I KNOW SOMEBODY HELP!"
"Somebody can help?" Tessa asked.
Nicole nodded. "Andre Babineaux. He work a bunch kitchens, cook everything and know how you get stuff."
Tessa figured there had to be a catch. "What's his deal?"
"Oh. He's, uh, gay." Nicole said.
Tessa tilted her head. "So?"
"He, uh, get in fight with chef one time. Chef run mouth about Andre being gay. Andre hit him, plenty hard, yeah. Then Andre kiss him and say he look for a new friend. Coulda end there, but Andre go a little too far." Nicole told her.
Tessa was curious now. "Oh? Just how far did he go?"
"Andre, kinda give once over." Nicole blushed. "He 'check' what Chef got. None gentle, no."
Tessa got it now and giggled. "He made his eyes cross?"
"Maybe. Chef talk funny rest of night and don't walk good either." Nicole added.
Tessa laughed. "Ok. But other than that, what's he like?"
Nicole waved her off. "Oh, Him a hoot and half. Make everybody laugh. Andre really nice and fun. Cook anything cajun or creole. Just don't like anybody mess with being gay. He about this tall, bout this big. Keep hair short, always wear LSU cap unless wear chef hat. Oh, he half-black. Daddy was white and Momma black, so he kinda light. They both die in Katrina. That matter?"
"Nope. I don't discriminate." Tessa replied. "Has he ever been arrested?"
Nicole shook her head. "No. Except that one time, Andre don't get no trouble. Actually, Andre scared drugs and stuff. He find uncle die from it when little. He drink a little but don't get stupid."
"Ok." Tessa remarked.
Nicole leaned in and said softly. "Andre have hard time grow up. He do all he can; not be call drunk, drug-up nigger. He really nice Tessa. You like him. Andre find me on street, help me straighten up. Now he have hard time, maybe you help him too?"
"Maybe I can Nicole. Let's go show you around." Tessa said then led the way out.
Tessa drove one of the security carts and showed Nicole around the park. Underground services were being put in, the placement of the rides and so on were marked off with stakes and strings. Tessa drove slow so they could see the signs in front of each space. Workers would call out and wave as they passed. Half an hour later Tessa drove over to the dorm. The exterior block walls were up and they could hear the noise inside of the work going on.
"HEY QUEEN TESSA!" Lance called out from a second floor window.
Tessa called back. "HEY LANCE! HOW'S IT GOING?"
"JUST A SEC!" Lance yelled and disappeared.
A couple of minutes later he climbed out a ground floor window and walked over. "How you doing today Queen Tessa? Want to come in and look? who's your friend?"
"Lance, this is Princess Nicole. She'll be the Bayou Princess. We came over here so she could see where she'll be living." Tessa explained.
Nicole nodded. "Bonjour Lance."
"Wow! Cool. Well, we haven't gotten to the rooms part yet." Lance said.
Tessa drove the cart close to the doorway but not too close. She and Nicole got out and followed Lance inside.
"Hey Jerry! We got a royal visit!" Lance called out.
The crew leader looked up then came over. "Hey Queen Tessa. Whoa, who's your friend here?"
"Jerry, meet Princess Nicole of our Storm Bayou." Tessa said then turned to Nicole. "Nicole, this is Jerry. He's in charge of building the dorm here."
"Comment ca va Jerry?" Nicole asked.
Jerry adjusted his hard hat, thinking, then replied. "Good? I think."
"You good Jerry?" Nicole asked.
Jerry nodded. "Yeah. I'm good. Nice to meet you."
Tessa smiled. "Nicole is the first princess I found. All of the princesses will be here in the dorm. I wanted her to see what's being built."
"Ok. Follow me then, Ladies." Jerry said then led them both through the whole building.
When they returned to the doorway they had entered, Nicole was all smiles. "I can't wait move in!"
Jerry said. "Well Princess, it's gonna be a while. Tell you what though; when we start doing the room interiors, your room gets priority and we'll do the other two princess' rooms after. Sound good?"
Nicole turned to Tessa. "How long?"
"I'll have a temporary place for you Monday so you can send all your things and fly back." Tessa informed her.
Nicole nodded. "That work, yeah. I got question. What everybody follow 'round for?"
One of the workmen chuckled. "Queen Tessa found a princess. We wanted to find out more."
"Oh. I get. Well come see, I tell story." Nicole said to the group.
Tessa stood out of the way, knowing this should be a good laugh.
Nicole looked around then began. "I'm from South Louisiana, yeah. Down there we got all kind famous. One be Margrite Thibodeaux. Margrite like to fish. She so good, a magazine come talk. They sit her porch and talk. Magazine man say 'Margrite, you win all kind fish rodeo. What you secret?' Margrite look 'round real careful and say 'Etienne. Him my secret. Every mornin', 'fore I get out bed, I hold up sheet and look Etienne. Him thing layin' left, I fish off the left side the boat. Him thing layin' right, I fish right side the boat'."
Everyone was snickering at the cajun girl's story.
"Magazine Man say 'But Margrite, that all good, but what he ain't lay left or right?' Margrite just sit back an' say 'Cha, them days I DON'T fish'!" Nicole hit the punchline with a broad smile.
Everyone erupted with laughter. Nicole told them two more jokes then waved them down.
"This all fun, yeah, but I get the eye now. Time go back work. I get out way. Don't worry, none. I be back, yeah." Nicole curtsied then blew a kiss.
"Merci Princess Nicole. You made our day better." Jerry said. "Let's get back at it everybody. We got a Princess waiting on her place now."
The group broke and went back to work, with more enthusiasm. Tessa and Nicole drove the cart back to Dave's trailer and went inside. He waved them in.
"Ok Nicole. Officially, you're clean. Unofficially, you are believed to have been a prostitute, but no investigation and nobody is keeping tabs otherwise. New Orleans Vice knows you perform in shows now and have gone off their radar. If Tessa still wants to hire you, ok, but you will have no reason to return to 'ways of survival'. Clear?" Dave asked.
"I don't make trouble, no. Merci, Dave." Nicole said.
Dave looked to Tessa. "Up to you."
Tessa nodded. "Come to my office Nicole. Let's see if I can convince you to relocate here."
Ten minutes later Nicole's paperwork was finished and it was official. She was the Bayou Princess of the park. She would be able to continue staying at the hotel, but her personal belongings could be stored in a shed at the dorm site until ready for her to move in. When she returned from New Orleans, she would be bringing her friend Andre with her to meet Tessa and Dave.
Monday afternoon Tessa went to the bank to electronically transfer another set of payments for the rides to the manufacturers after seeing Nicole off at the airport. Tessa went into a diner across the street and took the last table. As it was lunch time, the place was almost standing-room-only. A waitress came over.
"Diet soda, please." Tessa said to her.
Kammi blinked then grabbed her order pad and wrote it down. "Oh. Yes Ma'am."
Tessa looked at her curiously. "You weren't here for my order?"
Kammi blushed. "Actually I came over to ask if you wouldn't mind sharing your table with her."
Tessa looked and saw the other woman smiling politely. "If you don't jump on the table and yodel, I guess it would be alright."
"Oh I specifically requested the non-yodeling section." The woman smiled, took the seat opposite and offered a handshake. "Elaine Oberlin, Mayor of Bayleston."
Tessa nodded. "Nice to meet you. Tessa Frost."
Elaine's mouth dropped open then she quickly recovered. "Are you really?"
Tessa nodded.
"Wow. This is chance! I've been wondering if I would ever meet you." Elaine smiled happily.
Tessa took the menu from the waitress. "Oh?"
Elaine placed her order then Tessa did as well.
Elaine picked up the conversation. "It's my understanding that you bought the old park and having it rebuilt."
"That's right." Tessa confirmed. "Things are progressing nicely."
Elaine smiled. "I won't beat around the bush Miss Frost. Re-opening the park is a big thing for Bayleston. It means tourism and that means revenue. Lodging, restaurants and rentals. I won't lie; yes, I'm very interested in the money the park would bring here. I put high stress on education reforms and health services. I'm tough on crime as well. I invite you to check my record."
"Well, I can't say you aren't direct. So be it. I'll check you out. If I like what I find, we'll have a meeting." Tessa said then gave her a hard look. "If I don't, you won't hear from me personally."
As the waitress set down their orders, Elaine nodded. "Sounds fair to me."
Conversation was light as they both ate. Tessa called for both checks.
"I could take of the checks, or at least my own." Elaine Oberlin said.
Tessa paid in cash and told the waitress to keep the change then turned to Elaine. "You may get the chance another time. We'll see. Good day Mayor."
"Good day, Miss Frost." Elaine said as they parted ways, then to herself. "You're a tough cookie Tessa Frost, but I think we can get along."
Wednesday, Tessa watched as several trucks entered through the open gate. The loads were covered with tarps to protect and conceal. The first set of rides for the park had arrived. Her crew of technicians were still at the manufacturers learning and building more rides, but they were going to be returning soon. Right now it was the simple, kiddie rides that were coming in.
A rep from the company had rode in with the lead truck.
"Hello." Tessa greeted him.
The man wearing a hardhat that looked like a cowboy hat nodded. "Ma'am. You must be Miss Frost."
"That's me." Tessa confirmed.
He nodded back. "Harlan West. Your gate guard directed us here. This the unloading area?"
"Yes. Unload here and when the ride location is ready, we'll set them up." Tessa told him.
Harlan nodded as a crane moved over to the first truck and handed her a copy of the list. "You're the boss, Ma'am."
One by one, the trucks were unloaded as he checked off the pieces against his list as did Tessa. Several of the construction crew came over and began covering the equipment with thick black plastic and marked them with signs.
After the last truck was unloaded and rolling out Harlan made notes then handed Tessa his clipboard. "Ok Miss Frost, that's everything for this shipment. It's all here. Just need you sign off."
Tessa signed the invoice and accepted her copies. "Thank you. Have a safe ride."
Harlan tipped the hardhat. "Yes Ma'am. Ya'll have a great day."
Bill had been watching the activity. "I don't think we have a higher gear, your Ladyship."
"It's fine Bill. We're on schedule. There's going to be some more come in but its all kiddie and family type rides and they can wait. My technicians aren't done training yet. We can't start putting any rides up until they come back. You're still putting in the underground, so we're not ready anywhere." Tessa reminded.
Bill's radio crackled. "Bill have you seen Tessa?"
"Right next to her Captain Dave." Bill answered.
Dave called back. "Leslie says she has a call."
"Ok." Tessa said to Bill and went back to the cart she had rode over in.
Bill spoke over the radio. "Her Ladyship is on 'er way."
Tessa drove back to her office and went inside.
"Ah. She's here now." Leslie said over the phone then told Tessa. "A Mister Andre on the line Ma'am."
Tessa nodded, continuing to her office. "I'll take it in my office."
A moment later Tessa sat down and picked up the line. "Tessa Frost."
"You're a hard lady to get a hold of." A pleasant voice answered. "Nicole said I should talk to you. Andre Babineaux here."
Tessa replied. "Mister Babineaux, you come highly recommended by Nicole. According to her, you are quite the culinary specialist."
"I can throw some stuff together." Andre chuckled.
Tessa knew he had to be vastly understating his abilities. "I'd like you to come for a visit this weekend, when Nicole comes back. Perhaps give a sampling of some of your specialties?"
Andre was nobody's fool for sure. "I might could do that. I'll have to overnight some things there though."
"This isn't a freebie Mister Babineaux and I'm not going to play around. I'll send you five hundred dollars to procure and ship ingredients and a thousand dollars for a weekend of your time. Travel and lodging will be paid. Does that get your attention?" Tessa asked.
Andre quickly replied. "I'll wear a crawfish costume and tap dance if you want!"
"Do you have an account I can send to or do I need to wire it?" Tessa asked.
"I have a PayPal." Andre answered and gave her the account information.
Tessa made the transfer then pulled up the airline site and began making his reservation. "Alright. Money sent and I have your flight confirmed with Nicole's."
Andre said firmly. "You want New Orleans' cooking, that's what you're gonna get."
"Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Some snacks or treats, too. Quintessential New Orleans Mister Babineaux." Tessa reminded.
"Miss Frost, when I get done, you'll swear you spent the weekend in the French Quarter." Andre insisted.
Tessa didn't miss a beat. "That's exactly what I'm expecting Mister Babineaux and I'm told you can. See you Friday."
Tessa then gave him the address to ship to then his flight information.
Friday several boxes containing Styrofoam with frozen gel or dry ice packs to preserve the contents in them arrived by 10 that morning. Dave arrived with Nicole and Andre at the hotel just after noon.
Tessa stood in the lobby and handed them a pair of room keys. "Welcome back Nicole. Welcome Mister Babineaux. The hotel has graciously indulged me a favor, to borrow their kitchen for you this afternoon. Everything you sent is there already and waiting for you."
Andre laughed. "Don't waste no time. You was right Nicole. Ok Mam'selle Frost. I'll be there in just a minute."
Five minutes later the kitchen staff were surprised to see a tall man in chef's uniform and LSU Tigers ball cap come into the kitchen. He went straight to work, taking all the burners on one of the stoves. It didn't take long for the kitchen staff to begin reacting to the smells. They had all been watching, some even taking notes of, the obviously skilled stranger in their kitchen.
Finally Andre brought over a plate and two small bowls to set in front of Tessa and Dave. "Here's my opening. The bowl on your right is Crawfish Etouffe. The bowl on the left is Shrimp Creole. On the plate is Sausage Jambalya."
Andre went back and dished up for the staff to sample as well. The hotel's manager had joined them out of curiosity. The clinking of cutlery was punctuated with murmurs of appreciation.
Tessa used a napkin then addressed Andre. "Mister Babineaux, if this is only the opening; I'd say you are quickly proving to be as advertised."
"This is fantastic! A classmate at cooking school made dishes like this. I never had the courage to try imitating." The head chef said.
Andre laughed. "If you want to cook cajun and creole, you gotta be bold!"
Andre began telling cooking stories while cleaning up. He soon had the staff howling with laughter. Dave, Tessa and Nicole were laughing as well. Andre truly was a character. He continued to treat them with some of the desserts found at the better restaurants in New Orleans as he told stories of cooks, in and out of kitchens, and some of the colorful patrons famous locally and otherwise.
Dave returned to his office and collected the results of the check of Andre's background. Only minor traffic violations were there, but had been resolved. Saturday Andre made more dishes and did prep work for the most time consuming dishes that would be served on Sunday. Monday when he went back to the airport, he was only going back to New Orleans to get his things together and set up supply delivery.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 7 of
VentureRealm Park |
Tessa gave a task to Nicole, find more cast members. For Andre, he went back down to New Orleans. He would be taking two weeks to pack up and set up the food delivery. Instead of flying back, he would drive. Tessa thought he sounded a little off about that. Nicole hesitantly informed her that Andre's car had seen better days and was probably worried that it wouldn't make the trip. She also told her that Andre was very proud and would be very reluctant to ask for help. Tessa understood that
"Andre help me back then. Now I pay back, get him with you." Nicole said proudly.
Tessa couldn't help smiling as she went out to look around. The young cajun was doing all she could to earn her way. Nicole was finding a lot of transgender performers, the problem was that they all lip-synced. Tessa had to put that from her mind for now. She was needed at the dorm and rode a security cart over.
Jerry met her at the doors. "Hey Queen Tessa. Come in and look around."
Tessa followed him inside. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she followed him.
"This looks good Jerry." Tessa commented then turned a corner into the cafeteria. "Oh wow!"
Jerry waved to the room. "This part is the dining hall. The tables will be here tomorrow and we'll set them up."
After following him past a sheet of hanging plastic he flipped on the light switches. "Here you go!"
A full commercial kitchen gleamed in the lights. Tessa looked around and nodded.
"Outstanding! I know the cook staff will be happy with this." Tessa said in satisfaction.
Jerry nodded. "Yes Ma'am. And this place will be easy for them to keep clean too. All gas appliances mean they can practically hose them down whenever. Just like you wanted."
"That's excellent Jerry. This is just how I wanted it. Thank you. I know Andre will be thrilled." Tessa smiled.
Jerry led the way upstairs to the third floor and down to one end. Some interior walls were up and she could see a door set.
Tessa took note of exactly where they were. "This is the room for Nicole."
"Yes Ma'am." Jerry nodded then opened the door. "Here you go."
Tessa walked inside. The tile had been laid and the walls painted. As it sat the corner of the wing, there were two sets of windows. The en-suite bathroom was a tub-shower combo and there was a full vanity for the sink.
"Now this, is very nice Jerry. She'll like this." Tessa remarked.
Jerry looked it over. "The crew all think, that even though it's a dorm room, it shouldn't look exactly like one for the Princesses. If Princess Nicole likes it, we'll do the other two just like it."
Tessa nodded. "That's going to be great. Is this ready for her to see?"
Jerry shook his head. "Day after tomorrow, please. There's some little things and a good cleaning to do."
"Give me a bottom line Jerry. When will the dorm be finished?" Tessa asked.
"Ahead of schedule. Schedule says two more months. I think we can get it done two weeks early or better. Five to six weeks unless we get a serious toad-floater." Jerry answered.
Tessa nodded as they turned to go back. "Ok. That being the case. Have a couple of the people go around an hour before shut down everyday and start to clean up the outside."
The project lead nodded back. "That'll start today."
"You and your crew are doing a great job. I'm very glad to hear that none of the crew have been hurt. Keep it that way Jerry." Tessa said.
Jerry nodded. "Yes Ma'am. I stay on them about that. We're all glad that it's your number one thing."
Tessa asked. "Other jobs haven't been like that?"
"I think it'd be better if I didn't answer that Queen Tessa." Jerry said. "Bill's a great boss, but sometimes he has to go with what the people that pay say. You're different. It's the people that are important to you. You been proving that every day. You take care of us. That's why we call you Queen Tessa."
Tessa laughed as they reached the door. "And here I thought it was because someone overheard a certain little girl. Or maybe Bill's habit of addressing me as 'Your Ladyship'?"
It was Jerry's turn to laugh. "How about I plead the Fifth?"
Tessa climbed into the cart. "Just this once."
Jerry laughed as Tessa rode away. As hard as the job was, he was loving working it.
Andre arrived three days later than he was expected. The reason was fairly obvious when his car stalled at the edge of town and had to be towed in. Whether it was good fortune or not, Dave Wells happened to be passing by the hotel and noticed the wrecker dropping the car at the back of the lot. Seeing Andre beside it, made him pull in.
"Hello Andre." Dave said through the open window. "How bad is it?"
The News Orleans chef shook his head. "Any other critter, I'd say 'get the rice, she done'."
Dave parked and got out. "That bad."
Dave went over to the wrecker driver and talked, then pulled his wallet, handed over some money and took the ticket. He then waved Andre over.
"Hop in. We can get you settled later." Dave said.
Andre got in and rode with Dave. They went to Tessa's office. Within minutes and two calls, Tessa had Andre checked into the hotel for the night and a rental car would be delivered. After that, Dave took Andre over to the dorm and showed him the finished cafeteria and dining hall.
Andre whistled and looked to Dave. "MAN! Ain't this something! WOOOO-WEEE! Now THIS is a kitchen!"
"You'll only be in it part-time Mister Babineaux." Tessa said from the doorway.
"Part-time?" Andre asked, confused.
Tessa nodded. "You'll be in charge of food service for Storm Bayou. That's where you'll be working. Once or twice a week you'll lead a meal here. That may fall on an off-day Mister Babineaux."
Andre nodded. "But I'll be livin' here, won't I?"
"That's right." Tessa confirmed. "Unless you take issue with it."
"Only if somebody takes issue with me. That gonna happen?" Andre asked.
Tessa stood casually. "It better not, I'll have their ass if it does."
Andre looked over to Dave. "Oh, I like that!"
"She means it too." Dave said.
Tessa leaned against a work counter. "It'll be a while longer before the dorm is finished."
"So I stay at the hotel for now?" Andre asked.
Tessa nodded. "For now. Nicole's room is finished. She hasn't seen it yet. I'm saving it for a surprise. As the first Princess I found, I'd like her to open the dorm. I believe that would be something very special for her. Would you agree?"
"Yeah. I would. We alone in here?" Andre lost all humor then continued at Dave's nod. "I'll be honest. Nicole had things rough. Her momma, died. She got bit by a water moccasin in the yard hangin' clothes up to dry. Nicole was ten. You know anything about them snakes?"
"No." Tessa admitted.
Andre sighed. "Meanest things. They don't just bite once. They stay on, til they get stuck or killed. Nicole's momma didn't even make it to the back porch. After that, her Daddy got worse. He already drank. After she died, he didn't have a reason not to anymore. He stayed drunk for two more years. One night he went out for beer, Sheriff came to tell Nicole he wasn't comin' home again."
"Did he go alone?" Dave asked.
Andre nodded. "Lucky, yeah. He was on his way back, drinkin', plowed right into a tree. Nicole go into foster care. It was fine at first. She stay with a family until fifteen. Then they have to move, job for the Daddy up north. Nicole gets put in another place. She was sneaky for a while. Just after she turn sixteen, somethin' went wrong. The man find out about Nicole. She went out to meet some friends on a Saturday. That evenin' she come back and he found the clothes and a couple of pictures. He beat her then he raped. Nicole manage to get away after he was done. Grabbed what she could and ran."
"She gave the abridged version." Tessa said. "I already have her seeing a therapist here. Her records were transferred. She's on track."
Andre chuckled. "Now I see why they all call you Queen Tessa. You're all over everything."
"Nicole says she owes you. She's thinking that If I bring you on, that'll square things." Tessa remarked.
Andre looked sad. "That girl. She tries so hard. She don't owe me. If that's why you going to all the trouble, forget it."
Tessa shook her head. "Nicole got you the invite. You earned your stay on your own. Fair to you?"
"More than fair. I'll talk to Nicole later." Andre replied then added. "First thing in the morning I need time with you."
Tessa frowned. "Monday. I have an appointment. I'll be in my office at ten-thirty. Good?"
Andre nodded. "That works."
The week was busy for Tessa. First was Tessa's appointment with Brad Waverly. Then the meeting with Andre. He had everything ready. All that was needed was a phone call from Andre and the first truckload of supplies would be on a truck. Then came other things. Tessa found a mascot suit maker and contacted him. There was good news and bad news. The bad news was, his health wasn't so good so he was retiring. The good news was, his niece was capable and willing to relocate.
Tessa found some time over the next couple of days to visit the local High Schools. In particular, the Home Economics classes. She was looking for the possible costume-makers for the cast. A donation to two schools for incentive provided motivation. Over the next three days, several resumes, with pictures of projects were dropped off at Tessa's office. Tessa pulled twenty of the best for interviews. Those led to another twenty referrals that were called in. A total of thirty-five were marked for hire.
A week later Nicole came rushing in.
"I find 'em!" Nicole gushed.
Tessa waved her down. "Slow down Nicole. Who did you find?"
Nicole came around and took over Tessa's computer. "I find two girls! They perfect! Just who you want!"
"Ok Nicole. Show me." Tessa said.
Nicole pulled up one video then another. After they were finished Tessa nodded.
"They looked good. Have you contacted them?" Tessa asked.
Nicole shook her head. "I get contact only. You don't tell me more than find."
Tessa nodded. "Thank you, Nicole. I'll take care of the rest."
Michelle Hamilton read the email one more time.
Ms. Hamilton,
Hello. My name is Tessa Frost. I've seen a video of your performance. You're quite the performer. It was unclear as to whether you actually sang or lip-synced. I'd like to discuss that with you.
Tessa Frost
A time and number was included so Michelle called.
"VentureRealm, how may I help you?" a voice greeted her.
"Hello. My name is Michelle Hamilton. Tessa Frost is expecting my call." Michelle stated.
The woman replied. "Just a moment, please."
The call went on hold then was answered. "Tessa Frost."
"Michelle Hamilton here. You wanted to talk with me?" Michelle asked.
Tessa confirmed. "Yes. As I said in the email, it wasn't clear as to whether you actually sang or lip-synced. I'd like to know if you can sing in feminine voice."
"Actually Miss Frost, I can. There's not a lot of call for that though." Michelle explained.
Tessa asked. "Do you specialize in a genre or does that not really matter?"
"I can handle some of the pop songs and some country, just as long as those aren't depressing. I took jazz and tap when I was younger, so I actually do choreography. Right now I waitress Wednesday through Friday and perform Saturday nights. Every now and then I bar-tend." Michelle explained.
That had Tessa's attention. "Choreography? That sounds good. I have an idea. Make a video. Perform two songs with a dance routine. Go with a saloon girl theme. Throw in a couple of jokes or stories if you have any."
"Ok. I think I can do that." Michelle said, thinking.
Tessa threw in. "Oh, and it has to be All-Ages appropriate. Email that to me when you have it."
Michelle was puzzled. "Ok. I'll have something in a few days."
"I look forward to it." Tessa said and took down Michelle's information.
Tessa's phone buzzed. "Miss Frost. There's a Danica Mullen on line three for you."
"Thank you." Tessa answered then picked up the line. "Miss Mullen, Tessa Frost here."
Danica greeted her. "Hello. I got your message, obviously. What's on your mind?"
"I'm looking for performers. I understand, according to your blog, that you are transitioning. You may have skills I'm interested in." Tessa said.
Danica wasn't sure. "I've done the occasional drag show for extra money. Mainly I give swimming lessons and so on, I help with the Red Cross to train Life Guards for pools."
"I read that. I also read that in middle school and high school, you swam competitively. Have you ever done any artistic swimming?" Tessa asked.
Danica was quick. "You mean water ballet?"
"I include that. There's other things that could apply. So have you?" Tessa asked.
Danica paused then answered. "Not really. I think I could though, but I'd really need to know what you have in mind."
"Some time ago, I saw a show on TV. In Florida they have a mermaid show. The costumes look like costumes of course. The show was decent. I think there could be better. Perhaps it could be you to do it?" Tessa proposed. "Maybe even more?"
"More?" Danica asked.
Tessa knew she had her. "Improvise a tail for swimming. Doesn't have to be perfect, just to help you move like a mermaid. Come up with a routine that goes for five minutes. You don't have to hold your breath that whole time, that would be ridiculous. Have your surfacing as part of it. Also, have a song. You sing it and play the song during the routine. Also I'd like you to perform a song out of water. So, two musical routines."
Danica asked. "You want me to do stuff from The Little Mermaid?"
"Whatever you like. Just be All-Ages appropriate." Tessa answered.
Danica agreed. "Ok. I can do that. You do want me to video that and send it to you, right?"
"That's right. Send it to the email I contacted you through. Let me have all your contact information now though." Tessa said.
"Ok. Might be a week or so. You're not in a big hurry are you?" Danica asked.
Tessa chuckled. "No. Just do the best you can. I look forward to seeing what you can do."
They both signed off. Tessa smiled to herself and went back to work.
Almost four weeks later, Tessa stood in front of the dorm. A ribbon stretched across the doorway.
"Ladies and gentlemen. It's with great pleasure that I say that the dorm is now complete and ready for you to occupy. As the first resident to be found, I ask you to officially open the dorm." Tessa said then handed a pair of scissors to Nicole.
The young cajun blushed and took the scissors then stood looking over her shoulder. "Appelez-nous des amis. Appelez nous la famille. Je dis juste, bienvenue à la maison à tous! WELCOME HOME!"
She cut the ribbon and waved them in. "Allons! C'mon!"
A cheer went out and fifty people followed her inside. Some had driven, others came by plane or bus. All were excited. They had their luggage and map. Quickly they went to find their rooms and explore. Those that were able to see into the three Princesses' rooms voiced their envy. Eventually they made their way back down and gathered in the dining hall. Not all the tables were full. Tessa and Dave stood at the front.
Dave addressed the group. "By now all of you know me. Just in case it slipped, I'm Dave Wells. Head of Security. Over there in the Black shirt, That's Zeke. He's head of the Security night shift. Beside him, in the red shirt, is Mark. He's the primary First Responder and day security."
Both turned around and waved to the group then sat back down. A group of men and women, totaling sixteen, stood up when Dave pointed to them.
"This group is Over-Watch. The eyes in the sky. They are the BEST. Two each, working two hour shifts, twenty-four hours per day. They can also operate drones. They work an Over-Watch shift then go to other duties until shift ends. Tessa." Dave said.
Tessa pointed to the two nurses. "These ladies are Registered Nurses. Both will be here in the dorm as well. Mrs. Davis, if you would."
A older woman stood up and smiled to everyone. "My name is Brenda Davis. Miss Frost hired me to look after you all. You could say, I'm a combination of a manager and a house-mother. I'm also a sort of receptionist. My office and room are right inside the front entry. Let me know when you go out and come back, I will take messages for you or connect the call to your room phone. I also handle the mail and deliveries."
Tessa called their attention. "Mrs. Davis may have years of experience dealing with certain levels of immaturity, but please remember, this is her idea of retirement from teaching kindergarten. Keep that in mind. Also, There will be a couple of people working in here to keep things neat. They will not be maids. You maintain your own rooms and laundry. There is an orientation packet in your rooms, I suggest you read them. There are four cooking crews. Three for the park and one for here. Until the park opens, the three cooking crews will alternate days here. Chef Andre leads off tonight. Any questions? I'm fairly certain any you have are answered in the packet."
Bill addressed the group. "I'm Bill, the contractor. We finish up the underground this week. Next week the rides already here will start going into place. Other rides are still on the way and will start assembly when they arrive. After that, the attractions and so on will start being built. I understand that's where most of you all come in. Her Ladyship wants those that work attractions to help the crew building them."
"Princesses. Up front." Tessa called out.
Nicole and two other young women came up and stood beside her.
"Princess Nicole of Storm Bayou. Princess Danica of SeaSide. Princess Michelle of Wild Forest. They will be working with the costumers and the feature cast for the shows. You won't see them running around the park much until we get closer to opening. It's going to be a long five months getting ready." Tessa informed them.
Each Princess smiled and curtsied as she was named.
Tessa continued to address the group. "Some of you may already have figured it out, others haven't. I'll go ahead and say this, many of you are LGBT. Some are looking at this as a rescue from whatever difficulties they were in. I'll say this, I'm the boss here. I won't put up with anybody being hassled for being quote-unquote different. Drama is going to come, that's a fact. Please don't actively create any. Be yourselves, by all means, but use discretion. For trips into town for shopping and so-on, get with Mrs. Davis and there will be a shuttle plan. That's all for now. See you after breakfast tomorrow morning, here."
Andre called for any cooks to join him in the kitchen for a meeting. Security members joined Dave Wells outside. The remaining began to get acquainted. After a few minutes Brenda and the two nurses began to get their attention. Brenda went into a quick rundown of what should be done when coming and going then told them a more thorough talk the next day but did ask that noise levels come down by ten at night. Many went up to their rooms and retrieved the packet mentioned. Dinner was served and after clean-up, the residents began filtering up to their rooms.
All three princesses were in Tessa's office first thing in the morning.
"How was your first night?" Tessa asked.
Nicole smiled. "Best I ever had!"
"It was definitely different. The rooms for us are quite nice." Danica said.
Michelle sighed. "I still can't believe how relaxed I was, being in a new place and surrounded by strangers."
Tessa nodded. "Good. I have good news and bad news. The good news is you have a rehearsal space to work in. The bad news is, a pool is not available for Danica yet. On Monday you each meet with the costumers. Danica, I've contacted the local high schools and the Red Cross. They are willing to meet with you and help you find some good swimmers for your show. Nicole, I hate to say it, but your show will be the hardest to cast. We may have to import some musicians and so on for it. Michelle, I have a meeting set up for you with the local theater group and high school drama clubs. You should be able to recruit through them. Get people who have graduated or will be graduating this school year."
"Yes Ma'am." The answered, almost in unison.
"There will be three shows for your area that last forty-five minutes. Musical numbers, comedy, skits. The biggest problems are coming up with them and casting. You need at least two months of rehearsals. We'll have ten months of operation, I suggest that you have one show you do for five months then change to another show. That will keep both the cast and the guests entertained." Tessa explained.
Michelle asked excitedly. "You mean real shows? Not drag-night revues? Shows like in Vegas and Branson?"
"Shows like you'd see in the big amusement and theme parks. That's what this is so that's what you do. Between shows, you wander your area and meet the guests." Tessa answered.
Nicole was smiling. "This gonna be big fun, yeah?"
Danica looked like she was about to cry. "I get to be a mermaid princess? Really? Do my own thing and not some rip-off?"
"Cha? Ca va? You ok?" Nicole patted her back.
"I wanted to do something like this for so long! When I was on the swim team, I heard girls talk about playing mermaid. I was so jealous. Now I can get to do it." Danica sniffed. "Thank you Tessa!"
Nicole shook her head. "No, not just Tessa. Queen Tessa! She look after us, yeah? Make us Princess in her kingdom! Dream come true for us! We happy everyday from now on, yeah? No more crying joli Danica. We sisters now, yeah?"
Michelle nodded then hugged the other two. "Yeah! Sisters, under Queen Tessa!"
Tessa walked around her desk and hugged each one. "Very good. Go see Leslie out there, you need to order some things to rehearse in."
All three curtsied and went out with smiles.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 8 of
VentureRealm Park |
Everyday, work progressed on the park. With Tessa's house and the dorm finished, the construction crews descended on the park itself. The first thing they jumped on, were the service facilities. The buildings for making things. First was the Costume Shop. Second was the Craft Shop. The concrete and plumbing crews were busy building the lagoon for the mermaid show in SeaSide then the waterway in Storm Bayou.
When the ride technicians returned from their training at the manufacturers, the big thrill rides had been built and would be shipped to the park for assembly. The first order of business, was the set up of the rides for smaller children. Kiddie Rides had already been delivered and sat in the staging area wrapped in thick plastic. That was how they started. The rides for the northern section of the park were taken in first and set up. The problem, there always seemed to be at least one, was the weather.
Winter was settling in, which meant rain and later on it would be snow and ice. Those were problems not even Tessa could force a solution for. One thing she could do, was keep her on-site people from being idle. On rain-out days, they were shuttled to the warehouse being rented for the costume makers to work in. Thanks to that, all of the mascot suits were made in time for the transfer over to the park's Costume Shop.
Another building had been built mainly to park vehicles in. However, it was now being used for cast rehearsal space. There was even a five feet deep above ground pool kit assembled and filled for mermaid training. An optional heater had been bought to keep the temperature of the water comfortable. At one end was the saloon show and at the other was the Cajun show, with the mermaid show in the middle. None were using anything louder than a portable radio, so they weren't competing to hear themselves over the others. The mermaids had an advantage of only hearing their music underwater and not the others.
For Nicole's Cajun show, Tessa did have to import some musicians. Those came from referrals, courtesy of Andre. Michelle was actually more than she advertised. She was very proficient with dance. With some tips and points from her, Nicole's Cajun dances had even more flair but still easy to watch. The dancers were one thing, the two clowns for the show were another. They were doing their very best to imitate Nicole's accent. Sometimes to her amusement, other times to her exasperation.
Michelle's Saloon Show had about the same amount of time devoted to songs and comedy that Nicole's did, but there was more emphasis on dancing. She combined tap and clogging with western dance elements for a grand duo dance for two young men in her cast. Four former cheerleaders, from different high schools, made up a kick-line. A member of one high school's rodeo club had been learning lariat tricks on his own and when the try-outs came, he was snapped up quickly. A three piece band was formed from a standing bass player, a guitarist and a violinist. They adapted to the cowboy songs well enough, but enjoyed the western parody songs more.
Danica's Mermaid show ended up including three Mermen as well. They had started out using a public pool wearing swim fins and simple straps to keep their legs together. Now they were in a shallow pool using practice tails. The plain white silicone tails weren't much to look at, but they did work. The oblong pool allowed them to build up speed for breaching, surfacing out of the water. For practice they even began hurdling in the water. They weren't able to go high, but they could go far. They were even able to rise almost waist high using the force of their tails to push up out of the water.
Danica and her team also had to work on songs as well. That had presented a problem when casting the Mermen. Many that tried out weren't singers, not that many had tried out, only eleven. The mermaids had been easier. Many were able to sing or swim, but only six of the forty that tried out were both strong swimmers and singers. In the water; they were all fantastic. Out of the water; Danica's group needed Michelle's help, alot. More than Michelle could provide so a ballet instructor was brought in at her suggestion to help choreograph their song and dance routine out of the water. She ended up giving some help for the water show as well.
Work went on to enclose the show venues. After the roofs were built to cover them, the valves were opened to start filling the lagoon and bayou. Chemicals were added to the water for clarity and eventually when the level was high enough, the pumps were turned on. For the lagoon, the walls were painted light blue and the bottom was a scheme of off-whites to simulate the ocean-bleached sand floor. Sculpted and tinted concrete simulated coral. Over at Storm Bayou, the bottom and walls were painted very dark colors to simulate the natural dark colored waters. Tinted and textured concrete were poured to look like log pilings for a dock. Those were the outer edge and would be visible. Support pedestals that would be hidden by boards were concrete as well but with their outer faces painted the same dark colors as the bottom of the bayou.
Two-by-twelve boards were laid over the support beams then covered with one inch plywood for Storm Bayou's dock. Certain sections of the dock had spacing between two-by-six boards instead to allow the plywood to resound louder from the impact of dancing shoes. For the Saloon Show, certain sections of the floor were made to amplify, like resonance boxes. The bar had the same construction. The boots of the cowboys and the wood heels of the Saloon girls' shoes would sound louder without sounding artificial, like with tap plates. The amplifiers would only be needed for the instruments and vocals.
Before walls could be built for the Bayou show venue, the artificial Cypress trees were put in. Sculpted polystyrene coated with thin concrete that had been tinted to mimic the bark. PVC pipe was used to make branches and covered with expanding foam then painted to match. These were draped with grey plastic faux-Spanish moss. At a later time there would be some animatronic animals. An alligator, an owl and a pelican that would talk. The recorded voices for the animals would be supplied by three members of Andre's kitchen crew that had also been imported from New Orleans. Gator would introduce the show and specific aspects. Owl and Pelican would trade one-liners and heckle the clowns.
Contrary to everyone's perception, Tessa wasn't just spending money left and right. She also had investments. She checked those everyday and adjusted them accordingly. One of the managers at the grocery store she had worked at was a self-taught investor. Over time and many mistakes he had learned just about all there was not to do. Years later, those results actually turned around into knowledge of how to invest wisely. Knowledge he shared with anyone who asked. During breaks and lunch, if he was in the room, Tessa had asked questions. All that was now put to use.
Tessa had told no one, but she had invested ten million dollars. Nine million were stable, slow stocks. One million was used aggressively. Some of those aggressive moves didn't get the results she wanted, the rest did. Steadily, the money increased. Twenty percent of the dividends went into her bank accounts, forty percent went back into play and the remaining forty percent went into the stable investments.
The local bank wanted to cater to Tessa and gave special rates to all of the park employees. Tessa was going to encourage them anyway, but the bank President himself and two assistants volunteered to come out to the dorm to set up the residents' accounts. They even offered bank cards with the park's logo. Though the local Office of Motor Vehicles couldn't do the same, the insurance company Tessa used did. They also came out and helped set up accounts for the residents that had their own cars already and even offered a special rate. The same company also had been selected for health insurance as well.
Discounts were given due to the residents since the meals there were cafeteria-style, but deemed healthy. An on-site gym also made them eligible for more discounts. That and the dorm had no smoking signs inside it. The three smoking areas outside the back and side doors went unnoticed as they were carefully concealed. Other things contributed to a good health insurance package. Wellness Evaluation Clinics every six months with Birth-Month Physicals. The fact that two Registered Nurses lived on-site brought in more discounts. Of course there were the other benefits such as retirement plans and so-on.
One thing no one would ever be able to claim was, that Tessa never thought about her people. If a person's field of work required some kind of license, they achieved it. Plumbers, electricians, mechanics and especially any medical personnel. Security as well. Whatever they needed; license, certification or registry. Tessa saw to it they had them whether it was state or national. She was even able to get one person in to take the health services course and test, to ensure that at all times the park would be able to meet any health requirements with exemplary scores. For certain, everyone knew that Tessa Frost wasn't playing around. She was making it clear that she was there to stay and there was no argument that VentureRealm was her park.
Around town, Tessa's machinations were also evident during the winter. Those who couldn't or refused to go into the shelters were helped with her secret projects, Street Table, two simple hot meals a day. The park chefs and their teams worked in the background while volunteers found with help from local Veterans' groups were manning the serving line. Idle Hands was the other secret project, clothing and other vital supplies needed by those staying outside the shelters were provided with the trading of time, shoveling snow and salting iced over public walkways. Also the cleaning of alleyways, especially those occupied by the street people.
Christmas morning many woke up to find a plain envelope hidden in their meager belongings that held some cash, a gift card and phone card. Some had stirred during the night and spoke the next morning of seeing a figure quietly passing through. An old slightly intoxicated man said he saw a angel made of snow, wearing all white with tinsel hair and blue eyes, smile at him as she passed by. He swore the angel gave them all the presents and even told him 'Merry Christmas'.
Zeke Malone had been surprised when the phone in his dorm room rang at eleven-thirty Christmas Eve. Even more so when Tessa asked him to come immediately to her house. All staff had been given the night off, along with the following day. Regardless he grabbed his jacket, hat and gloves then practically ran as fast as he could to her house.
"Good evening Mister Malone." Tessa said, standing beside a new red pick-up that had four-wheel drive. "Sorry to call you out so late."
Zeke shook his head finally catching his breath. "No problem Ma'am. What can I do?"
Tessa wore all white; jeans, down filled jacket, knee-high flat boots with faux-fur along the tops and gloves. "I'm going somewhere. I want you to accompany me. Will you?"
"Ma'am, I'll go anywhere you want. Say the word." Zeke said firmly then caught a set of keys.
Tessa had tossed him the truck's keys. "Take me to town. I want to go to the alley where the outcasts are. You drive."
"Aye Ma'am." Zeke replied then walked around to get the door for her.
Carefully Zeke drove the sturdy truck down the quiet streets. It was now late enough that even the most ardent carol-singers had finally gone home. The only ones on the streets were the police and those with nowhere else to go. It wasn't a problem for him to get to where she wanted to go. He had been there many times over the years.
"Don't park in view." Tessa said as he slowed down then parked as she wanted.
Zeke got out, but not fast enough to let her out. Tessa had got out on her own with a clutch of envelopes in her hand.
Tessa waved him back when he made to follow her. "I go alone, Mister Malone."
Zeke shook his head. "I can't let you out of sight, Ma'am."
"Then wait for me there, but don't follow." Tessa said then turned into the alley.
The former Marine watched with his heart twisting inside as she moved from person to person, almost as silent as a cat. He could see that she was giving out the envelopes. Her gentle voice telling Old Mac 'Merry Christmas' all but yanked the guts from him. Soon she returned.
"That's it Mister Malone. We should go now." Tessa said.
Zeke settled her back into the truck then went around to climb behind the wheel. The drive back was silent.
Back in Tessa's driveway she remarked. "I'd like help with one more task, please."
Zeke followed her inside then saw the stacks of wrapped gifts. "Those Ma'am?"
"Yes. These go under the tree at the dorm." Tessa answered.
Quickly he loaded them with her and they drove over to the dorm and parked at the main door. Inside it was quiet, with everyone up in their rooms. In no time at all the presents were under the tree in the cafeteria. He then drove her back and began to hand her the keys.
"You should hang onto those." Tessa said getting out.
Zeke looked at her confused." Why Ma'am?"
"Since you own the truck, it would be sensible if you did." Tessa said.
Zeke's jaw dropped, but he had to know. "The alley, was that because of me?"
"No Mister Malone. It was because any one of them, could have been me. Merry Christmas, Mister Malone. Good night." Tessa said then closed the door and went inside her house.
Somehow he made it back over to the dorm parking lot and saw an empty parking space with his name on it. After parking, he finally broke down. For a long time Zeke Malone wept without shame. He had no idea where Tessa Frost had come from or even why. None of that mattered to him, she was there and had saved him. She took him from being out on the streets, cleaned him up, gave him a job and a purpose. His loyalty went two ways, The Corps and Tessa Frost. After an hour of purging his out-of-control emotions, he made his way inside and collapsed on his bed, exhausted.
Christmas morning the residents of the dorm came down, kitchen crew first, and were surprised to see the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree. After breakfast, they quickly distributed and opened them. Each had something personal for them as well as the gift and phone cards. The kitchen crew though had to hurry and delivered the food and coffee to the Veterans' group for Street Table. Several of the residents were visiting local nursing homes and the Veterans' Home. Others were going to shelters. The Princesses would visit the hospital and Tessa herself went to the orphanage. She had already sent gifts to the group home she had lived in. All in all, Tessa Frost spent close to fifty-thousand dollars on Christmas, for those who would have gone without had she not.
New Year's Eve came with many of the dorm residents visiting the only LGBT nightclub in town. A good time was had by almost all. A few over-enjoyed the evening and paid the obvious price the next day. Everyone had been safe though, not driving themselves. Zeke Malone had volunteered to drive the shuttle-bus to bring the party-goers to and from the bar. He, himself, had made an early resolution of not drinking aside from three days. The anniversary of the park opening, the Marine Corps' birthday and Tessa Frost's birthday. He vowed that only on those days he would take up a single drink in salute.
Two days after New Year's everyone returned to work on the park. The major rides began to arrive and the assembly crews went right to work on them. Finally, in February, the only ride that remained to be assembled was the roller coaster. All eighteen million dollars of it. When it was finished and test run, everyone gathered to go for the inaugural first ride. The day ended up being an impromptu fun day, with everyone going on each ride in the park.
March started with the landscapers going full speed. First to be planted were all the new trees. Then came the hedges, azalea and rose bushes. Grass was being grown directly from seed, instead of sod. Tessa had chosen a hybrid grass called Improved Bermuda. Finally the flowers were planted. The final touches to be added were the ground lighting and all-weather speakers. After all that had been done, the workers came back with an army of mixer trucks to pour the pathways. They had no time to waste, as the dry weather would only last for two weeks.
Elaine Oberline sat in her office listening to her assistant.
"You're sure about that, Chet?" Elaine asked.
Chet nodded. "Checked it out myself. Street Table is being supported by the new amusement park people secretly. The Veterans' group is only donating their time. All the food is being provided and cooked by people working for Tessa Frost."
"That would be good P.R. why secretly though?" Elaine asked.
Chet shrugged. "I have no idea Mayor, but I do know there's more."
"More?" Elaine sat up. "What more?"
"Idle Hands is secretly her doing as well. The visits by her and her people Christmas Day was no secret, though they didn't make any noise about it. The two projects that have pretty much cleaned up the streets of Bayleston were both secretly Tessa Frost's." Chet informed her.
"So she is visibly giving to the needy and cleaning up the streets behind the scenes." The Mayor summarized. "Do you think she might be planning to run for an office?"
Chet shook his head. "That's the thing. She's not actually going out and interacting with the general public. Almost all her direct interactions are business. She's quick too. If a meeting of any kind runs over ten minutes, she becomes more blunt. The filters get turned off. Except for her own people, you take longer than ten minutes and she gets irritated with you."
"I heard that she is hiring people straight out of schools. Is that true?" Elaine asked.
Chet nodded. "That's very true. She's been hiring people right after they complete courses at the technical college and some have just graduated high school. There have been a bunch that came from out of town. At least sixty or so. I've heard that more have come. It's not so easy to tell now that they aren't at the hotel anymore. There is a dorm for alot of her staff and it's pretty big."
"How big?" Elaine was really curious now.
Chet shrugged. "I heard over a hundred rooms. Details are pretty sketchy. The construction crew is really tight-lipped."
Elaine could tell there was something else. "What are you holding back?"
"I keep hearing something strange. For some reason they all refer to Tessa Frost as 'Queen Tessa'. Not in sarcasm. It seems to be in respect. As for why; again, I have no idea and nobody is wanting to say." Chet said. "I do know for certain that Tessa Frost is big LGBT supporter and says so. In fact, she has made it clear that she refuses to hire anybody that isn't supportive. It was implied that she gives LGBT and Veterans priority hiring status."
"She seemed nice, but the no-nonsense type when I met her." Elaine remarked.
Chet shrugged. "Seems that way. I also heard that for those she wants to hire right out of high school, she has her eyes on more of the academic type than the popular and sporting types. Computer classes, Home Economics and drama clubs. But she has hired some recent graduates that were on swim teams for some reason. There is a rumor that she is also going to bring in 4-H club members, but that's not confirmed nor the reason why."
"It's strange they are so tight lipped about everything. I haven't driven by there in some time." Elaine admitted.
Chet smiled. "I've seen some of the rides working. I know for sure the roller coaster is. It looks fantastic! I can't wait to ride it."
"I'm really curious about the foods." Elaine stated.
"I know there is a Cajun chef. The hotel manager let him use the kitchen there for a weekend. One of the cooks said the food was wonderful and authentic. The chef comes from New Orleans. Some young girl that will be working in the park also comes from there he said and her accent is really heavy." Chet chuckled.
Elaine nodded. "That sounds interesting. Anything else?"
Chet shrugged. "Just her head of security. They call him Captain Dave. He was in the Army for sure and there's talk that he worked in Las Vegas."
"Was he?" Elaine asked.
Chet blinked. "Was he what?"
Elaine rolled her eyes. "Was he a Captain or is that just a nickname?"
"Oh! Yeah, he was a Captain. What he did, nobody is saying though." Chet answered.
"Well, as curious as I am, I think I should wait a little longer before requesting a meeting with Tessa Frost." Elaine remarked.
Chet nodded. "Might be a good idea. Maybe when she announces a firm opening date you could get in to talk with her."
"Sounds good. Well it's five o'clock and its quiet enough. Let's call it a day." Elaine suggested.
Chet grabbed his briefcase. "It's a day. See you Monday, Madam Mayor."
Five minutes later Elaine Oberlin was driving out of the parking lot and decided to take a very scenic route home, passing by the park.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 9 of
VentureRealm Park |
Since the opening of the dorm, all the staff had been eating their meals there. Even Tessa and the office staff took lunch and sometimes even dinner at the dorm. At Tessa's insistence, Bill's construction crew were invited to lunch there as well. It took him, and them, a few days to figure out why. With four chefs there now, food items were being perfected before making final approval for the park menu. Everyone loved the snacks, treats and desserts.
The chef for Wild Forest was Hank Thompson. Originally from El Paso, he had wandered around the Western states for several years before Tessa found him in Denver. He had been considering opening his own place, but lacked the funds. Tessa's patented 'only the stupid would refuse' offer had him throwing everything he owned into a rented truck and almost breaking every speed limit to get to Bayleston.
Hank knew Southwestern cuisine. From the finest Steakhouse in Ft.Worth to enchilada trucks around San Diego, Chili con Carne from El Paso to Barbecued Buffalo from Cheyenne. He spoke with a Texas drawl but was so fluent in Spanish, one would think he was raised in barrios. With his cooking knowledge also came a personal list of suppliers that ranged from Galveston, Texas all the way up into Philipsburg, Montana. All of which could and did ship within twenty-four hours.
For SeaSide was a woman named Joann Caulder. Her experience started as a teenager working summers at Coney Island until she turned eighteen. From then on she wintered in Florida and summered in Vermont and Maine making stops along the way. Clam chowder from Boston, cheesesteaks from Philidelphia, comfort foods from Georgia and the Carolinas, Italian classics from New York City. She had even learned a family's secret art to making Polish sausage as well as many Cuban sandwich favorites.
SnowyHill's chef hailed from Squaw Valley, but had also spent time in Lake Placid, New York. Aspirations of becoming a champion skier were shattered, along with his right leg in an accident at seventeen years old. The lure of the events stayed though and he traveled back and forth between the two major locations, eventually learning cooking to support his trips. Casey Malorian learned from several international chefs along with locals making favorites and took those lessons with him everywhere he went. He had even spent time in Aspen and Park City. On a whim even went up to Alaska. What he found funny, was the fact that he had previously had to learn ice cream making. For some bizarre reason, people ate just as much ice cream in winter as they did in summer, sometimes even more so.
That particular day, Hank was running the kitchen and for lunch was barbecue. He had a couple of the welders build a smoker and a pair of brick-layers built a barbecue pit. Burgers, baby-back ribs, beef long ribs, brisket, chicken quarters and pulled pork sandwiches were the options. For sides he had three types of coleslaw, two types of beans, green and potato salads. Of course there were fries as well. For dessert were pies and cobblers. The staff were vocal in their appreciation, but the construction crew became a bit rowdy.
Bill went over to one table shaking his head. "I know the eatin' is damn good, but you all are sounding like a bunch of gorillas raiding a banana truck."
"Sorry Bill, but this here's the best damned barbecue I ever had!" Grady replied.
The rest of the table nodded and simply grunted in support.
Hank wandered over and tilted back his Ft. Worth Stockyards ballcap and chuckled. "I appreciate that. It sure is fun cooking like this, I can't wait til the park opens. I'm glad I answered that call."
"Queen Tessa sure finds some great folk to work here." Rob the crane operator said then held up his glass of iced tea. "QUEEN TESSA!"
The whole cafeteria echoed. "QUEEN TESSA!"
From the doorway a voice called back. "Are you all trying to make me blush?"
Rob looked sheepish as he stood up. "Sorry Ma'am. Didn't see you'd come in. It is true though, you found great people for the park. I know you didn't have to let us eat here, but thank you Ma'am. It's great every day, I know I ain't the only one looking forward to the next day."
Tessa stood middle of the room now. "Well, tomorrow, you ladies and gentlemen get your chance to show that appreciation to our chefs. The plans for the concessions are in Bill's office and building starts tomorrow I've been told."
"That's right, Your Ladyship. We start on those first thing in the morning. We're going to have at least two weeks of good weather. The crews finished the slabs yesterday so tomorrow we start on the buildings themselves." Bill confirmed.
Tessa nodded back. "Good. Our target date for the grand opening is June first. Right now, it looks like we'll make it. The soft opening will be May twentieth. That's a Saturday. Princesses, will you be ready?"
All three stood up. "Yes, Queen Tessa."
"We're excited to start rehearsing in the lagoon." Danica said. "Our dry show is ready though. All our music is done and the recordings for the wet show are done. Our show-tails are almost ready."
Michelle nodded. "The Saloon show is ready. The costumes are finished."
"We good on th' Bayou, yeah." Nicole smiled then laughed. "First Fais do-do nobody drunk."
Several laughed with her, including Tessa.
Tessa nodded. "Well that just means that all the applause and laughs are real. I think that'll mean more to you and your cast."
"Oui, Reine Tessa." Nicole said and gave a curtsy.
"Then all we have left, is to finish it. I have the right people, make it happen." Tessa said.
Noisily everyone collected up their trays and turned them in then went back to work.
The weather held for eighteen days. Almost all the concession buildings stood ready with only minor exterior work remaining. Four days of on and off rain slowed the work down, but when it cleared the crews came back with a vengeance. The interior work was able to continue despite the rain. Ten days later, the equipping of the concessions began and the services came online.
For lunch, the work crews began visit a different area of the park every day according to a posted notice to direct them to the correct area. With the exception of the chef and two dedicated members per kitchen, the rest of the kitchen staff rotated areas daily. It had been agreed that more culinary personnel would be hired closer to opening. The cafeteria crew would be hired then as well. Each of the four chefs' assistants would take turns running the dorm kitchen crew. This would prepare the assistant chefs to cover for the chefs in event of illness or other reasons. It gave them opportunities to experiment as well.
All the sound systems were being checked then used. Rock and country blared at the various work areas depending on the crews. Drones could be seen zipping around individually and in formations. There were two types. One was brightly colored and very attention grabbing that moved very slow. Nine looked plain and could move very fast. The crew could see that whoever was operating the fast drones were clearly very skilled. Drones would race in at full speed then abruptly go into a hover at a safe distance and orbit, keeping its front focused on whatever the operator was interested in.
Fencing went up around areas to keep people out of restricted zones. Fence that couldn't be climbed or slipped through by even the smallest child. Cameras were being installed by Dave and his crew at the same time. Some were static and others could sweep. All had high resolution capabilities that surpassed any being installed on casino floors in Las Vegas. The cameras could zoom in to read the time on a ladies' evening watch at three hundred feet, even in the dark. Someone had come up with the very clever idea of CO2 emitters at certain points to lure away any mosquitoes from the congested areas of the park. This was also became prime locations for purple martins, dragonflies and various other natural pest control.
The landscaping crew nodded to that as well and introduced concealed plants that were actually predatory to insects. Flowering plants were set back from walkways as they attracted bees as well as hummingbirds and butterflies. With them out of reach, it decreased the chances of stings. Wasp traps would be placed as well, but concealed or camouflaged to not attract people's attention. Fountains and other water features would have chemicals added to the water that killed insect larvae.
Jimmy Sloan adjusted the ballcap on his head as he looked at the group of black shirt and ballcap wearing people.
"Jimmy was previously with the local Sheriff's office." Dave Wells announced. "He pulled a Lieutenant Dan on Tessa."
The other members of Security chuckled at the Forrest Gump reference.
Jimmy chuckled. "Yeah. I did. That's ok. I think I may have made a good career choice. Just so you all know, I also took the Security guard course while I was at the Academy. I'm also Red Cross certified for First Aid and CPR."
"Jimmy will be working with Main-Force security." Dave informed them. "We have more people coming in later on for that. Jimmy you work under Tom. Tom is from Vegas and was an MP at Nellis."
Tom stood up and waved him over. Jimmy noted one man wore a red shirt and hat, but also had a badge.
Dave pointed to Mark, who stood up. "Mark is the Primary First Responder. He'll be in charge of the Park Medics, but he also is Security. Liz, would you stand up?"
A young woman stood up. Unlike those with black shirts, she wore a dark purple shirt with a shepherd's crook above the park logo.
"Liz will be leading a team of ladies in Security with a very specific job. They will be the working the Wanderer-system. This is an updated system that uses tracking bracelets for children under the age of twelve. Its very similar to systems used by indoor playlands and that Invisible Fence thing. At the gates, a child under the age of twelve is issued a bracelet. The child and accompanying parents are photographed and linked to the bracelet's chip. If the bracelet crosses an invisible cable, alarms go off and park goes into lock-down. That's basic and other systems use the same method. Our system goes further. The location is GPS tagged and it registers on the monitors for Over-Watch." Dave explained.
A hand was raised and at Dave's nod, the man stood up. "Sir; That's all good, but if a predator takes the child, won't they have planned for that and try to cut the bracelet off?"
Dave smiled. "They can try. The band of the bracelet is a high-strength alloy coated with a safe med-grade silicone sheath. Once it's on, only Liz or her team can get them off. Each size comes with its own special key. The sizes are color-coded. The sensor and transmitter assembly are contained in a module of the same alloy and coated with the same silicone sheath. The fit will be comfortable but not slack. It takes five minutes with an industrial cutter to get through the band. The connection is underneath the module, so it can't be forced and the locks and key are unique to the product. A person can't get a replacement. If we lose a key, then a new batch is ordered and the old is sent back to be re-keyed."
"Damn that's smart!" Another of the group commented.
"Oh it gets better. All doors into restricted areas are chipped. All cast and staff wear a bracelet of their own with the RFID chip in them and there is a camera that snaps their picture at the same time. So even if an intruder gains access, we can identify them. There are only two ways in and out of the park. The front gate and the back. The back gate is manned so there's no sneaking in or out. Now just in case you haven't noticed, all Security personnel are former LEO or Prior Service. This is intentional. Only people that can be trusted can know our strengths and weaknesses. Every person that comes here is OUR responsibility. Something happens to them, it's on US. Inside the gate, they belong to us and we will care for them jealously. Watch over them. Guide them. Care for them. Do NOT however interfere with their fun unless a safety concern arises. Hoo-ahh?" Dave asked.
Several ex-army members yelled back. "HOO-AHH Captain!"
Those who were former Marines weren't to be out-done and yelled even louder. "HOO-RAH Skipper!"
Zeke knew the meeting was closing and called out. "ATTENTION ON DECK!"
Almost as one everyone bolted to their feet and saluted.
Dave stood attention himself and returned the salute. "Outstanding. That is all. Fall Out!"
Everyone made their way out and into their specific groups. Dave looked on in approval. Slowly but surely, they were reminding him what it was like to be a leader of troops with a purpose. They understood him, he understood them. Nothing else in the world felt like it and he wouldn't trade for anything.
"Ma'am? Mayor Oberlin is here." Leslie informed Tessa over the intercom.
Tessa replied. "Send her in Leslie."
The office door opened and Mayor Elaine Oberlin entered with a smile.
"Thank you for seeing me Miss Frost." Elaine said, shaking hands.
Tessa nodded and gestured to the chair opposite. "Welcome. Have a seat, please."
Elaine sat down. "I won't beat around the bush Miss Frost. Rumors are running wild about town now about the park. Could I get some information?"
"I guess the important things first. Soft opening will be May Twentieth and the official Grand Opening on June First. Yourself, the Governor and certain other local dignitaries will be invited for that. Media coverage will be local television, radio and newspapers. Also national travel personalities will be invited, lots of camera coverage." Tessa said then smiled. "You'll definitely want to look your best, Mayor."
Elaine laughed. "Any suggestions, I'd hate to clash."
"Well, you'd want to project a charming image. Perhaps a tea-dress. As for me, I'll be in a full gown as will my princesses." Tessa replied.
Elaine smiled. "Full regalia for the Queen and her court?"
Tessa nodded. "Pretty much. I'll be in white, Princess Nicole in purple, Princess Danica in blue and Princess Michelle in green."
"That sounds lovely! I'm very interested." Elaine sat waiting eagerly.
Tessa sat back in her chair. "I see. You want the FULL low-down."
"May I? Please?" Elaine tried patented sad-eye look number 4.
Tessa laughed. "Alright. But only the highlights!"
Tessa stood up and led her over to the drawing on the wall. "VentureRealm Amusement Park. It's sectioned off into four areas."
"I'd love to take a picture, but I'm afraid you would give me a stern talking to!" Elaine gushed.
Tessa nodded. "That's right. Here on the south end is Storm Bayou where Princess Nicole reigns. It's Cajun themed and there's lots of authentic food. Several games and souvenir shops. Children's and thrills rides. The main feature is Princess Nicole's Fais Do-do. Its a Cajun show; songs, dances and comedy."
"Oh WOW! That's something to look forward to!" Elaine smiled.
Tessa pointed to the drawing again. "Moving on, you go into SeaSide. Princess Danica reigns over the Mer-people there." Tessa pointed on the drawing. "The cuisine ranges up and down the Eastern seaboard as do the attractions' theme. The rides also. The main feature, of course, is Princess Danica's Merpeople show in the lagoon. There is also a 'dry-show' as well, between the lagoon showtimes."
"Really? So they will perform out of the water as well?" Elaine asked.
"Songs and dances." Tessa nodded.
Elaine looked impressed. "I'd say all that alone makes the trip, but I am under the impression there is lots more."
"From SeaSide you go into SnowyHill, my official domain. Winter themed wonderland. There is a show, but I'm not in it. It's presided over by Old Man Winter. The rides and games there have the same theme and the food ranges across the North. I wander around periodically during the open hours." Tessa explained.
Elaine nodded. "Well I can see how you would be too busy running the park to be a full-time performer."
Tessa laughed. "Not hardly! I couldn't carry a tune if it came in a basket! I have been taking some dancing lessons, but it's not my strong suit."
Elaine blushed. "I guess I put my foot in my mouth on that one!"
"Moving into the last area, Wild Forest. Princess Michelle is over that. It's more of a Western theme for the food, rides and games. Michelle has a Saloon show. Songs, dances and comedy. There are other features there, but I'd like to tell you about some crafts there. We'll have some craft-workers from Western Native tribes with shops there. Navajo rug makers and Pueblo turquoise jewelry, just to name a couple that have accepted my invitation." Tessa said proudly.
The Mayor was impressed. "Fantastic! The people get to watch the items being made?"
"Of course. That's what really draws people in. They get to see it come to shape right in front of them. For those shops, the bulk of the revenue goes to the tribes they represent, I get a small percentage that is more like shop rental." Tessa informed her.
"All that sounds incredible. I'd like to ask about safety." Elaine said.
Tessa nodded. "Four teams of responders. A paramedic and EMT per team. One team works an area of the park. Two full time Registered Nurses at the aid station. One Paramedic as group leader and First Responder."
Elaine looked surprised. "Wow. That's very reassuring."
"Every member of the Security Force is either prior military or law enforcement. Many served in combat and therefore take their duties seriously. There's more, but I'd rather not go into detail. I will say that the safety and security of our guests is paramount." Tessa said firmly.
"With measures like that, I'd say so! Miss Frost, I am in awe! I am concerned about the job force though. It sounds like many are coming from outside the area." Elaine pointed out.
Tessa admitted. "Many are from out of the area, but a higher percentage are local. However, due to demand, not all of the staff can be found locally that meet requirements."
"I've heard that you prioritize LGBT hiring." Elaine remarked.
Tessa nodded. "I do. Is that a problem?"
Elaine shook her head. "Not at all. I'm impressed that you're so bold. I've always supported LGBT rights here in Bayleston, but there's only so much that I can do. I'm thinking that you may do more than I ever will."
"Considering that it affects me personally, to not give LGBT high priority would make me hypocritical." Tessa remarked.
Elaine looked puzzled. "It would? Are you saying that you are lesbian?"
Tessa began laughing and shook her head. "No. I'm transgender. I'm transitioning."
Elaine's jaw dropped. "Really? I couldn't tell, honestly. Wow! I must say, you are quite pretty. I actually had no idea."
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
Leslie leaned in. "Ma'am? It's my turn to go to lunch now. SeaSide is serving today."
"Ok Leslie." Tessa nodded then turned back to Elaine. "Care to lunch with me, Mayor?"
Elaine agreed eagerly. "Oh, I'd love to!"
The Mayor spend over half an hour eating, due to conversation and another hour meeting and talking with various cast members. When she finally drove away, she was all smiles.
In April, the crews went to work on the games and attractions. Thanks to the installation of a heating system, the cast of the Mer-people show were now able to begin rehearsing in the lagoon. Cast members for all the shows now began full dress rehearsals in front of cameras and then reviewed the recordings. Of course, being that they were now going at rehearsing the full shows, many errors were found and needed to be fixed.
The first of the Native American crafts-people arrived. The Pueblo jewelers. The shop looked like many buildings found in the Southwest and they liked it. A few days later she received a call. A tribe of the Nakota nation were asking if she would like some performers of tribal dances, drummers and a story teller. Tessa didn't even hesitate and said yes, with the requirement that they have the full costuming. Twenty minutes later, travel arrangements were confirmed. Days later, the Cherokee leather-goods makers were on their way as well.
As games and attractions were completed, the new Human Resources department hired the staff via recommendations from the high school guidance counselors. Each one signed on immediately, but understood that they had the stipulation of graduating. As the final stage of an attraction was coming, the staff for it was brought in and trained. They were taught how the games worked and even helped final work to bring it into service. the same applied to the concessions. As the staff was hired, they were measured for uniforms.
The Costume department did more than just make the mascot suits. They made or ordered all the costumes and uniforms for everyone working at the park. For some things, such as shirts, the process was simple. Plain shirts were ordered and the Costume staff did the silk screening and embroidery themselves. Some items were able to be purchased in bulk, such as polo shirts for the Security, Medical and Hospitality staff. For culinary works, Kitchen Whites could also be ordered in bulk. Areas of the park had a color code. Wild Forest was a green shirt and khaki shorts, skirt or pants to resemble wearing buckskin. Storm Bayou wore gold shirts and green shorts, skirts or pants. Seaside wore pale blue shirts with blue shorts, skirts or pants. SnowyHill wore white shirts with grey shorts, skirts or pants.
Security wore black polo shirts embroidered with a badge above the park logo and name, khaki BDU pants and tactical boots, except for Over-Watch. Over-Watch wore black on black and would not be seen by the guests. Their shirts had a pair of eyes embroidered over the park logo and no names. Medics wore red polo shirts embroidered with the medical insignia over the park logo and name, black BDU pants and tactical boots. Culinary staff wore Kitchen Whites and slip-resistant shoes. Slip-resistant shoes were also required for Concession staff. Hospitality staff wore purple polo shirts with white shorts, skirts or pants.
Hospitality Staff were the people that worked the gate, information desks and other entry services. They wore light purple shirts simply featuring the park logo and their name. They wore white skirts, shorts or pants. Hospitality Staff had a secret as well. Twenty members were actually Security. They were in charge of the Wanderer System for children and called Shepherds. They wore almost the same colors as Hospitality, but had shepherd's crooks embroidered on their dark purple shirts above the park logo and their name. Instead of white; their skirts, shorts and pants were black. They were affectionately referred to as the Bo Peep Platoon by the other members of Security. Another aspect was that all of the Shepherds were either former military or Law Enforcement and mostly parents. Each one had been handpicked by Dave Wells.
The entire park was now almost completely staffed and working on the final stages to finish.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 10 of
VentureRealm Park |
Princess Michelle was now in full costume and heading toward the Saloon when something new caught her eye. A fenced in area was being built. She wandered over and spotted the crew leader, Tommy, looking at a diagram on the hood of a truck.
"Hey Tommy." Michelle greeted. "What's this?"
Tommy looked over and smiled. "Mornin' Princess Michelle. This is your animal interaction area."
Michelle blinked. "My what?"
"Petting zoo." Tommy chuckled.
This was news to her. "I get a zoo?"
"Sure do. Some calves, foals, goats, lambs, piglets, ducks, chicks, rabbits, peacocks. I even heard there's going to be one of them z-donks. Cross of a zebra and a donkey. Queen Tessa hired some 4-H kids coming out of high school to work this. Pretty cool, huh?" Tommy asked.
Michelle nodded. "Sounds it. I had no idea this was going to be here."
"Queen Tessa said that she had talks with several farmers and ranchers, along with the animal shelter people to get this together. Full-time vet and the 4-H kids will work the people and animals. Some of those kids want to become vets and see this as a way to work up for college money. Over there is a blacksmith. Some boys that took metal-shop in high school will be working that. They'll be making real stuff for sale, including horse shoes for the shelter horses all over the state." Tommy informed her.
Michelle looked surprised. "Shelter horses?"
Tommy nodded. "Yeah. Rescued horses, you know? Sometimes the shelter gets calls about livestock and they have to take them. Those animals are in a bad way. Queen Tessa worked out a deal. If they buy the horseshoes from here, she's going to only charge for the material to make them. Farriers and veterinarians can buy them too, but they pay full price. She worked out a deal for the baby animals to be here too. The babies are here for six months and then they go back to the farmer or rancher they came from for new babies. The park feeds and takes care of them while their here and pays the upkeep. Kind of like a lease deal. I think. That's how it sounded to me. The park is leasing the babies til they get a certain size then trades them back for youngers."
"So, we won't have animals too big for the kids to play with?" Michelle asked.
Tommy shook his head. "That's how I heard it. You might get some ponies for a ride thing, but I don't know. I did hear that Captain Dave just hired some more people for Security and they're dog-handlers."
Mark was walking by and called out. "Tommy, your crew got plenty of water?"
"We're good Mark, filled the cooler myself this morning." Tommy called back to the First Responder.
Mark gave him a thumb's up then looked over to Michelle. "Morning Princess. Make sure you all get in good stretching before starting your rehearsal and have water nearby."
Michelle smiled. "Thank you Mark, we will. Don't forget to look after yourself as well."
"Aye aye Princess, I always do." Mark said and continued on happily.
Tommy smiled. "There goes a happy guy. He ain't content unless he's fussed over folks."
"He means well." Michelle chuckled.
"No Ma'am. Inside the fence, we belong to him and if anything happens to us, he takes it seriously. He'll never forgive himself if he can't take care of us. He took care of SEALs and Marines during the war." Tommy explained.
Michelle hadn't heard the full story and was impressed. "Wow. I should start thanking him better from now on. I didn't know."
Tommy nodded. "Just like that fella, Zeke, Queen Tessa hired. He was in the war too and had it plenty rough after coming home. I still feel bad about how we all acted when we found him that day."
Tommy relayed the events of the day Zeke was found under the trailer and how Tessa handled it.
"Tommy! You're about to make me cry! I thought I had hit the lottery when she called me. Now I wonder if I was worth it, after hearing about that." Michelle said sadly.
Tommy gave her a serious look. "No joke. Zeke would crawl across burning, busted glass without a stitch of clothes on, with Queen Tessa standing on his back if she wanted to go somewhere. He'd only stop to salute Captain Dave along the way. The Security here would follow Captain Dave through Hell itself, but Zeke would carry Queen Tessa personally. Well, have a good rehearsal. I gotta stay on this, so we do it right."
Michelle nodded. "It'll be great Tommy."
Michelle turned and headed toward the Saloon. It appeared there were some stories she hadn't heard before floating around. Feeling thrilled to work at the park, she now wondered if she were truly worthy of it, especially her position.
"NO." Michelle shook her head and said firmly. "Tessa picked me, personally. I'll prove I'm worthy of her trust."
In the Saloon, when the other show cast arrived, she led them through warm-ups and even spent a few extra minutes doing so. She even made sure each one had a bottle of water nearby. She also resolved to know everyone in WildForest and what they did. During breaks, that's what she did. Michelle didn't go alone either, she had her whole cast follow and learn as well.
Danica had checked the chemicals of the lagoon water first thing that morning, along with the temperature then inspected the practice tails. When Mark came by on his morning rounds, she proudly showed him the full water cooler, juice boxes, thermal bottles of warm green tea and snacks. He nodded to her knowledge, as a competitive swimmer. She knew the toll such strenuous efforts in the water would take and was prepared for it.
When her cast arrived for rehearsal, they all stretched well and exercised. They even swam around a bit to ensure they were relaxed and warmed-up before putting on the silicone practice tails. Since there were more mermaids than mermen, one girl served as a helper. The helper rotated each day so that everyone got a dry-day. The helper also worked the cameras to record the performances for review.
The young man running the sound for the show had been in one of the high school drama clubs and graduated the year before. Danica picked him personally after meeting the shy boy. He was small and skinny, admitting that he had worn glasses until only recently. She suspected he had most likely been bullied. She was very quick to inform him that his skills backstage were what made him very sought after. In fact, she and Michelle had a small contest over him, to which Danica had won. Ethan's jaw dropped when she confided to him of that.
Ethan was even more shocked when Danica informed him that he was required to be able to swim as well, for safety reasons. In case a cast member was distressed, he might be the only one able to dive in to rescue them. He soon found himself practicing at least once per day swimming in the lagoon bringing a cast-member to the backstage area, simulating being injured or unconscious. Including Danica herself. In those drills, he also test called for Medical responders. Mark was glad to participate in those drills and did so.
Before Ethan understood what was going on, he was a Red Cross certified Lifeguard. He found it hard to not focus on the pretty red-head. The fact that she was transgender had no bearing. Actually, very few could tell and wouldn't have really guessed if she hadn't said so. Thankfully, none had issue. Especially after what she told them they were being hired for. For the girls, it was their greatest dream come true. Not only did they get to play mermaid everyday, they were being paid to do it.
After two wet rehearsals they were holding themselves up in the water with their tails.
"Looking great! Let's go get in a dry rehearsal now then take a break." Danica said.
Quickly they all dove then raced for the dressing room. In truth, they swam underwater for speed rather than to stay in character. Without the tails, it was faster to swim on the surface. With the tails on, they truly were faster underwater than on the surface. Backstage they would breach high and pull themselves onto a rubber mat. Ethan and the day's helper would go around and unzip the silicone tail down its spine and drape a towel over the cast-member. It only took one day for them all to realize it was better to be naked inside the tail. A swimsuit bottom, even thong style, would rub blisters. In twenty minutes they were dry, styled, made-up and dressed. They trooped outside and began rehearsing the dry show.
"OH WOW." Danica giggled and pointed. "Chompy is dress rehearsing today too!"
A guy in a shark mascot suit waddled over. "That's right Princess Danica! I can finally start wearing it now!"
One of the mermen looked it over. "Man. You're going to have take lots of breaks during the summer wearing that."
Chompy shook his head. "It won't be that bad. This has a fan in the top of the head to blow outside air down on me in here. I have to take breaks, but it won't be as bad. There's lots of shade that I can stand in too. Mister Mark showed me certain places that I can go to for a cool-down. They're all over the park for mascots."
"At least it's an easy job." Mermaid Lori said.
"There's a lot of rules for the mascots." Chompy replied. "We have safety briefings every morning. We have to drink a certain amount of water and go to the bathroom regularly so we don't dehydrate and fall out. They gave us watches with timers on them and we can only work so long and take a break for so long. We also have to wear a panic button. If we have a problem, we push the button and help comes."
Bryan, a merman, was shocked at all that. "Seriously? I thought mascots just put on the suit, wandered around and acted silly."
"No way dude. Mascots are a tough job. That's why there are at least three for every character. None of us work the same shift two days in a row. An evening shift, then a day shift then off a whole day. No double-shifts. We're only allowed to work six hours a day." Chompy said.
"That's really strict." Merman Justin remarked.
Chompy nodded, as best he could. "There's more. Each zone of the park has an empty mascot suit with sensors in it to monitor temperature. If it gets too hot inside it, an alarm goes off and we're told to go to the cool down rooms until they tell us we can go back out. I think they bring the dummy inside a cool down room and when it cools down enough they take it back outside until the alarm goes off again and we start all over."
Mermaid Renee was stunned. "That's wild!"
"Yep. Security will come get a mascot and escort them to a cool down room if we don't go immediately. We get in trouble if we ignore the warnings. One time, you get a butt-chewing by the mascot supervisor. Second time, you get wrote up and have to see Queen Tessa. Third time, she walks you to the gate, to leave." Chompy informed them. "Oh yeah. Something else. If you mess up the inside of a suit, you have to pay for the cleaning or replacement. If it's because you did something nasty, that you ain't supposed to be doing at all, you're gone."
"I heard some of the Disney mascots masturbate in costume." Merman Nick remarked, getting chuckles.
Chompy nodded to him. "That's what I'm talking about. Do it one time, you get fired. By Queen Tessa! No joke dude, she said so herself."
"That's pretty bad alright. Get caught messing up like that in Storm Bayou and Princess Nicole will feed you to a real alligator." Danica giggled.
Chompy slouched. "I heard about that. Man, that's one girl you don't want to cross. And you know when you're wrong around her. She goes off on you, in French. She doesn't play around."
Danica understood the Cajun's dedication. The first full day they were all together, Nicole confided her life story to the other two. Both Michelle and Danica understood, VentureRealm was truly the first safe place Nicole had come to since the death of her mother. A place she wouldn't give up without a real knock-down, drag-out, tooth and nail fight. Danica and Michelle shared their own stories as well. All three cried together and swore to be the best princesses to ever walk the grounds of a park.
Over in Storm Bayou Nicole clapped.
"BIEN! BIEN!" Nicole praised. "We good now! Queen Tessa be proud us, yeah!"
"Not yet." Beau called out. "Take us home, Princess."
Nicole smiled as he hit a note on his accordion to give the key and the harmonica player began, as did the guitar and fiddle.
She sashayed to front, center stage and sang. "Thirty mile out, th' gulfstream. Hear that South wind moan. Bridges be lookin' lower. Shrimp boats, hurryin' home. Old man down th' Quarter, slowly turn t' th' sea. Take 'nother sip o' whiskey, he look at me an' say."
All the players had come up on their instruments and those as backing vocals joined on the chorus. "Well, I was born in the rain, by th' Pontchartrain. Un'erneath th' Louisiana moon. Don't mind strain of a hurricane. Come 'round, every June. Th' high black water, she th' devil's daughter! She hard, she cold, she mean. But nobody taught 'er; it take alotta water, t' wash away New Orleans!"
The music had come up and now settled down as Nicole strolled back and forth. "Man come down, Chicago. He gonna set them levee right. Say it got t' be three feet higher. Or won't make, through th' night. Old man down th' Quarter. He say, don't listen that boy. Water, she be down th' mornin'. He be on 'is way, back to Illinois."
Everything went full volume now as they hit the chorus. "Well, I was born in the rain, by th' Pontchartrain. Un'erneath th' Louisiana moon. Don't mind strain of a hurricane. She come 'round, every June. Th' high black water, she th' devil's daughter! She hard, she cold, she mean. But we finally taught 'er. Gonna take alotta water, wash away New Orleans! Well, I was born in the rain, by th' Pontchartrain. Un'erneath th' Louisiana moon. Don't mind strain of a hurricane. She come 'round, every June. Th' high black water, she th' devil's daughter! She hard, she cold, she mean. But we finally taught 'er! Gonna take ALOTTA WATER, wash away New Orleans!"
Nicole and those that could were now dancing as the rest played. She called out. " AY-EEEEEEEEEEE!
When the song ended, the sound of clapping rang out from the back. With the lights on, they couldn't see the audience.
Nicole tried to shade her eyes. "Who dat?"
Tessa finally stepped close enough to be in light as well. "Me, of course."
"Riene Tessa!" Nicole gawked then blushed. "How long, you back there?"
Tessa smiled. "Long enough to be proud, of my princess and her Fais do-do."
"Merci Reine Tessa!" Nicole gushed. "We try hard!"
"I watched the whole show. It's wonderful. I love it! I know the guests will too." Tessa said. "Thank you for all your hard work. It's about lunch time. Nicole, take them to break and go eat."
Nicole nodded. "Oui! Allons! Let's go see Andre. He cook for us today!"
The cast put everything away and followed Nicole off-stage. They met up with Tessa out front and together, went to lunch.
Slowly, but surely. The attractions were being completed. Each had one a worker already. More were coming after graduating on May 15th. That would give them five days to train and receive uniforms. When an attraction was complete, as there were so few left to finish, the crews began to fall back to completing the main buildings; Administration offices and Medical. The Security, Technical offices and Mechanical shop had been completed not long after the rides began being assembled.
Tessa was walking around and looked up when a cartoon-ish voice overhead spoke out. "Grand Prize! Grand Prize!"
"My lucky day then!" Tessa smiled up at the brightly colored drone overhead.
It hovered lower and dropped a metallic-gold looking ball, about the size of a ping pong ball.
Tessa laughed. "Yay me!"
"Grand Prize! Grand Prize!" The drone announced. "Claim your prize at SeaSide's Main Shoppe!"
The drone slowly moved on. Tessa smiled and went over to the shoppe as she had been instructed and entered.
"Hi Queen Tessa." One of the clerks called out.
Tessa smiled and held up the gold ball. "Grand Prize."
The clerks inside all laughed and clapped.
Monique, the Shoppe manager, nodded. "Looks like that drone is doing it's thing. We were told about that."
"Good. I guess I'm the official guinea pig." Tessa laughed.
Periodically, the single brightly colored drone would hover over a child and get their attention then drop the ball to them. The child could then take the ball to the main shoppe for that area of the park and claim a prize. The prize came from an assortment of souvenir items ten dollars or less. The drone was flown by one of the Over-Watch group, as were the other drones.
Within minutes, nine members of Over-Watch could report to Drone Control and take to the air. They were all proficient and could fly the nine security drones in close formation. The prize drone only flew during daylight hours. The security drones could fly at all hours as they had standard and nightvision cameras.
Tessa turned in the prize ball. The shoppes would turn in all prize balls to Security after closing.
"Looks like you're about done in here." Tessa commented.
Monique nodded back. "Just about. Then this bunch moves on to the next shoppe."
"Well you're all doing a great job. I won't keep you." Tessa said and went out.
SnowyHill was next and she looked in on the main shoppe. They too were almost finished setting up. Finally Tessa visited WildForest. The Shoppes were looking good.
"Tessa. Hello." A Native American woman greeted her.
Tessa smiled and walked over to the Cherokee leather shoppe. "Hello to you Maggie."
Maggie RedBlanket invited her in. "Come in and look."
Tessa stepped inside and slowly looked around. There were boots, moccasins, belts, bags, bracelets, vests, jackets, pants, chaps and even skirts in various types of leather. Some were cowhide, pig and even deer hide. Some were plain and others were adorned with either beading or metal work.
"I'm glad my invitation was accepted Maggie. Everything looks fantastic!" Tessa announced.
Maggie smiled. "We were impressed with how you asked and even more so with the shoppe you built."
"What's that phrase? My walk will be my talk?" Tessa asked.
"That's pretty much it. We are believing you Tessa. You have not disappointed us and we are starting to believe you won't." Maggie said.
Tessa nodded firmly. "I made a deal, it will be kept. I refuse to go back on my word Maggie. I'll make good, you won't be disappointed. Ever."
Maggie nodded back. "I am seeing this. I'm glad we accepted your invitation."
Tessa's eyes caught and she went over to a pair of women's boots that actually had high spiked heels. The shaft of the boot looked to be knee high with beaded fringe.
"These are pretty." Tessa commented.
Maggie smiled. "Elk hide."
"If they came in white, I'd buy them today." Tessa remarked.
Maggie picked up a notepad. "They would have to be deer hide. What size and how high of a heel?"
"I wear a size nine. Can you do a four inch heel?" Tessa asked.
Maggie nodded. "Not a problem. We'll use blue and silver beads on the fringe. I need to get some measurements though."
"Ok." Tessa replied.
Maggie measured several places along her lower leg and from instep to knee. Then she measured Tessa's waist then hips followed by from waist to knee. Tessa was rather curious and more so when Maggie measured from waist to neck, shoulders, bust and arms.
"I don't think boots go all the way up to my neck Maggie." Tessa said.
Maggie shrugged as she finished her notes. "You'd be surprised."
Tessa laughed as did Maggie. They both turned when a set of drums began and walked to the door to look out. A group of men sat on a set of logs in a semi-circle playing the drums as others began to dance. They weren't in traditional clothing. They wore jeans, boots and either t-shirts or long sleeve shirts with the sleeves rolled back.
Tessa and Maggie went over to watch them perform. An older man sat on a log close to the concrete path and a young woman was behind him. He began talking in his native language and the young woman translated. They told what the dance was and its purpose.
When the dance stopped, Tessa clapped. "That was amazing! The story of your dance's origin was also impressive. I can't wait til we open, so I can see the performance in your full dress!"
"Thank you for inviting us." The old story-teller said.
Tessa smiled. "I thank you for accepting and sharing your fascinating arts of music, dance and stories Mister StormDawn. Miss JumpingDoe, thank you for translating the stories. You may not think it's all that important, but hearing the original story and the translation makes it better. More dignified, in my opinion. That not only the story is being preserved, but also the way of it too."
Linda JumpingDoe smiled. "That's nice of you Miss Frost. Thank you for being respectful."
"I'm glad you think so." Tessa said with a smile. "It's how I meant it. It won't be much longer, we'll be opening."
Tessa turned and headed off to see the rest of the area.
Joe Nably picked up the stack of property listings and began looking through them. There weren't as many now. When he finished leafing through them he felt like he had missed something important. Another look through didn't help so he called his secretary.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Bring me all the big listings for the past ten months." Joe instructed.
When she brought a stack in he had her wait while he went through them. They were organized by the month. Finally he held one up.
"Susan, why hasn't this one shown up for the past ten months?" Joe asked.
Susan looked at it. "I don't know. I'll find out."
Several minutes later she came back and handed him a single page. "That property is no longer listed. It is now owned by a company called Frost Entertainment Properties."
Joe took the page and read it then looked up. "It was on the market for over ten years and suddenly it gets snatched up?"
Susan shrugged, knowing nothing more.
Joe Nably pulled a portfolio and flipped through it then grabbed his phone and dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"It's Joe Nably. Why wasn't I informed about that park property being sold?" Joe asked angrily.
The voice on the other end replied. "Everybody knows it sold."
Joe swore. "That Property was only supposed to be sold to me!"
"That property has been up for sale for the better part of fifteen years. Look, I'm not the realtor. I kept all serious buyers away, but I didn't even know it had been bought until a month later." The voice replied. "All I know is, a woman named Tessa Frost bought it."
"What bank is holding the loans?" Nably demanded.
The voice answered. "No idea."
Nably growled. "FIND OUT!"
The phone dinged as Joe Nably slammed it down. He picked up the single page again and read. The last listing for the old park was seventy million dollars. He had been waiting for it to drop to below twenty million to buy. He needed answers; who was Tessa Frost and where did she get the money?
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 11 of
VentureRealm Park |
Tessa smiled. The baby animals in the petting zoo were cute. The foals and colts were checking out Michelle and she was laughing while petting them. The newly graduated kids that had been in their schools' 4-H clubs were excited as well. They all loved animals and to work like this, was just what they wanted. It gave them work experience to put on paper and opportunity to make some college money for those that wanted to be veterinarians or biologists.
There were foals and colts, calves, ducks, ducklings, chicks, lambs, kids(as in baby goats), piglets, rabbits, puppies and kittens. The puppies and kittens were all from the local animal shelter and could be adopted at anytime by local guests. The rabbits were also from the shelter, but would be staying at the park. The other livestock would be kept depending on their growth and returned to the farm they came from in trade for a new young animal.
After signing off the last invoice for the animals Tessa and Michelle turned them over to the new staff. Many still needed to be bottle fed, which added to the attraction as guests could help. Together, the two walked over to the sounds of metal being worked. In the Blacksmith Shoppe, three boys were smiling as they worked. Two had taken Metalshop and one had been in the 4-H club. They were working on various things, including horseshoes. They wore rough looking study pants with knee-length leather chaps and aprons over their cotton shirts. The Cherokee Leather shop had been happy to make those items for the Blacksmiths and even asked for some decorative pieces to be made for displaying more of their own works.
"You young men look enthusiastic." Tessa commented over the din.
The one making a horseshoe saluted with his hammer. "Howdy! We're in full swing Queen Tessa. Hey Princess Michelle!"
Michelle gave them a dazzling smile. "Gentlemen, you're doing excellent work! I'm glad you're having fun too. That's what makes it great."
"Thanks Princess!" All three said with smiles.
Tessa smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying your craft. Just make sure that you look after yourselves. You gentlemen have more heat on you, working in here, so take care. Make the most of time away from the fire and be sure to stay hydrated."
The one standing by the forge nodded. "Yes Ma'am. Mister Mark already came by and gave us a safety talk. Those fans set up to blow across the anvil stands will help us alot and we have a water cooler just for us. We're going to be careful Queen Tessa."
Tessa smiled then looked to Michelle. "Michelle, I give you WildForest. Rule it well, Princess."
"I will, My Queen." Michelle said then curtsied.
Tessa nodded to the Blacksmiths. "Gentlemen."
All three gave her a quick bow in return then watched the ladies leave.
"Dude, I think we're working in the coolest place ever." Ben, the boy at the forge commented.
Reggie, at the anvil remarked. "When I told my folks about it, they about hit the ceiling. None of us ever really thought me being in the 4-H club would actually get me a serious job. Said they were glad I got the job."
Loy, the lariat trick artist stopped by. "Hey guys."
"Hey Loy." Ben said. "How's the Saloon show?"
Loy nudged his hat back and smiled. "Man, it's SO cool! Mister Don said I was wasting my time, playing around with rope tricks. When I told him I got hired here just because I had learned them, I thought he was gonna drop!"
Mike asked. "Have you noticed that none of the so-called mega-cool kids got jobs here?"
"Skills got hired first." Loy remarked.
Reggie looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Skills. People that can do real stuff, not just look fancy. Drama club, Home Ec., those kind of people. The only jocks that got hired, were on swim teams. Looking cool and being connected, don't get you hired here. You have to actually be able to do stuff." Loy explained.
Ben mulled that over. "I see your point."
Loy leaned in and waved them closer then said. "After skills, come grades. Honor and Banner roll, but the biggest thing is the LGBT kids. They get priority. I don't know how they're found, but they are and they make the top of the list."
"That's strange." Reggie commented.
Loy gave him a confused look. "Why? Queen Tessa is LGBT. Don't you remember, during your interview, you got asked if you had a problem working with or for LGBT people?"
"I remember. It's not a big deal to me so I said I didn't have a problem with anybody." Mike said.
Loy nodded. "That's good, because Queen Tessa and ALL three princesses are transgender. I was open-minded before, but after working with Princess Michelle and seeing stuff Queen Tessa does, I think people are seriously messed up to bad-mouth transgender people. Just wait and watch. You'll see, the people working here are really something. The people behind the scenes are awesome. I had no idea, but I learned. You will too."
"Hey I know her." Ben pointed at the group of Saloon girls walking by. "Her too. They were cheerleaders at my school."
Loy nodded. "Yeah, but they were also in the Drama club and took alot of dance classes. Like I said, dude, skills."
The line of girls looked over and waved, smiling, to the boys. Loy tipped his hat in return as the three Blacksmiths waved back.
Reggie shrugged. "I guess we'll see a bunch of familiar faces around."
Loy laughed. "That's a gimme. Not just working here, but guests too. You're going to see people you know alot. Just remember, you're working here so be cool. Even if that person wasn't cool in school, you gotta be. If somebody starts problems, the Security people will handle it. The guys in black shirts, they ain't no joke man. All of them were either in the military or cops or both!"
Ben pointed as one of the Saloon girls came back, escorted by Dave Wells. "Hey what's going on?"
Loy looked over. "Dunno."
"Thanks for volunteering Candice." Dave said to the girl.
Candice smiled. "No problem Captain Dave. What do I need to do?"
Dave chuckled. "Just lie down right here."
Candice giggled. "Ok."
She carefully laid down. "Ok now what?"
Dave took several steps back then raised his arm over his head and waited.
A moment later the radio on his belt crackled. "Emergency! Emergency! Code 10, WildForest, in front of the Shooting Gallery!"
Within moments, people in black shirts could be seen, running towards the location. Quickly they formed a loose perimeter around Candice.
"Miss? Are you alright? Can you hear me?" One of the Security asked.
Dave walked over. "She can hear you, but she appears to be slightly groggy. Her hair looks damp, but her face appears to be dry."
The Security member pulled his radio. "Code 10 WildForest, we need medical on-site."
"Copy WildForest. Medical en route. Evac stand-by." A different voice called back.
Mark's voice came over the radio. "Evac standing-by WildForest."
Moment's later a man and woman wearing red shirts that had First Responder on the backs ran up and took off backpacks. Quickly they assessed, given answers by Dave, as Candice made the appropriate noise or movements. Her condition was deemed serious enough for evacuation and Mark was called for. Minutes later a siren was heard, not as loud as regular emergency vehicles, but enough to get attention. Mark turned off the siren, parked the cart and unloaded a stretcher. A quick discussion then Candice was carefully moved on it and loaded into the back of the cart. A sheet of paper was given to Mark then he drove away slowly with lights flashing and the siren on again. Minutes later he returned with her sitting in the passenger seat smiling and dropped her off.
"Thank you for your help Candice." Dave said.
Candice smiled. "Glad to help Captain Dave! All done with me?"
Dave nodded. "Yes, thank you."
"Later." Candice said to the group and rushed back to the Saloon.
Dave looked around. "Response time was good people. Keep in mind though, we're empty. Crowded streets are going to be a problem. That went by the numbers and you were all clockwork. One thing though. Anybody notice it?"
"All responders are male. Until Medical showed up, no females. That could present a problem if the guest or cast is female." One of the Security remarked.
"Correct." Dave said. "That means I need to move some people around, areas and schedules. That'll be next week. No matter what though, from now on, everyday is the real deal. Carry on."
"Yes Sir!" The group shouted and dispersed.
Dave switched his radio channel. "Ok Over-Watch. WildForest checks out. Moving to SnowyHill for next EDRE."
"Copy that Captain. Over-Watch, standing-by." The voice on the radio replied.
The same exercise was conducted in SnowyHill and Storm Bayou.
Over in SeaSide things went different. When the Security team arrived at Dave's location he was standing there holding a dummy.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Bob." Dave announced. "Meet Bob."
After a moment of confused silence they carefully said. "Hello Bob."
"That could have been better. BOB, is in distress." Dave said then let go of the dummy, which fell to the pavement. "SAVE Bob."
They had no time to laugh at Dave's humor. Quickly, they began working. Bob was determined to be in cardiac arrest and the medical team performed CPR. When Mark arrived, they merely paused long enough to load Bob up and continued the CPR until they reached the Main Medical Station and the simulated arrival of the ambulance service. All the service teams had been conducting drills called EDRE.
Emergency Deployment Readiness Exercise, EDRE, was routine for combat troops of the military. Dave Wells saw that the same could be applied here in the park for Security and Medical response. For the prior service personnel, they picked up the old way as if they had never left service. For the others, they adapted quickly and learned to appreciate that military bearing. They would continue to drill and improve, until the park opened, speculating they would become the best response force in the world for entertainment venues.
Day by day, the new cast members were trained for their duties. Various exercises were conducted to prepare for emergency situations. Food services were checked then inspected by someone from Health Services and given the highest rating. Even the Medical stations were checked and given high ratings. Each section of the park was given time off to visit the other sections. On May 18th, there was a big meeting that evening.
Tessa stood at the front of the assembled workers and smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen, the park is now finished. Bill, I want to thank you. You and your crews did a fabulous job. I believed you were the right man for this job and I chose you to do it. You and your people did NOT fail! Last year, I bought 240 acres of dreams. You have made those real. It's now up to us to bring them to life. Thank you Bill. Thank you ladies and gentlemen."
With that Tessa handed him an envelope then curtsied to him.
Bill took his cap off. "Your Ladyship, you really know how to make an old man feel good. When I met you, I knew you was a person that I should get to know. I wasn't wrong. I was glad to work on the old park. I did my best back then. I'm a better man and worker now. On this park, I did even better. As glad as I was, now I can finally say; I am proud! Thank you for that, Your Ladyship."
"QUEEN TESSA!" One of the construction workers called out.
The cheer was echoed by everyone assembled. "QUEEN TESSA!"
Tessa smiled then held up a bundle of envelopes and began to read the names off each one personally. After they had all been handed out she addressed them again. "With my gratitude I have given each of you a gift. Please enjoy. Thank you once again, for a job excellently done. See you soon!"
The construction crew opened their envelopes and found their bonus checks, as promised, along with park gift cards and two sets of special passes for their families. Bill opened his own and found the same, along with the final payment for his company.
"Your Ladyship." Bill looked up from the check. "This can't be right."
Tessa was looking over the group of people with a faint smile. "I'm not in the habit of making intentional mistakes Bill. I know for a fact, I haven't made one now."
"This check is for more that it's supposed to be. I would understand, if I didn't know you just gave everybody a bonus personally. You did and I know it. Why this though?"
Tessa looked at him. "Was this park built right? Or was it built greater than that?"
"Greater than that." Bill sighed, knowing that any argument he was about to come with was about to be shut down effectively.
Tessa's expression hardened. "What I originally wanted has been done, even better than what I'd planned. It is because of you and your people. Anybody else wouldn't have done this. You did better than I wanted. You were the right man for the job, so I chose you. I chose right. Do not turn away, that which you earned fairly."
Bill held up his hand. "I surrender already, Your Ladyship. I know better than to go against you after you made up your mind. I'll go with a bit of valor and just say, thank you. It's been a pleasure working for you, Queen Tessa."
Finally Tessa smiled. "Thank you, Bill. Enjoy yourself and I look forward to seeing your family visiting the park."
Bill shook his head as she moved off to mingle. "And that's why we call you Queen Tessa."
As Tessa moved through the people; women and girls would curtsey, men and boys bowed. She greeted each one by name with a smile. All the cast and staff would be off the next day. To relax before the Soft Opening. Saturday, the gates would open. June First was the official Grand Opening. The Hotel in town was already filling up with visitors from out of town to come to the park.
Saturday morning lines were forming at the gates, waiting for them to open. Television, radio, newspaper and online advertisements had been going for two weeks. The campaign was obviously working. The gates sat between two towers topped with battlements. Soon people began to look up and point at the woman coming out onto the battlement for one of the towers. Her gown was white and the tiara sitting lightly on her head looked to be made of crystal, or ice, as was the scepter in her hand.
"Good morning. I am Tessa Frost. Queen, of VentureRealm park. I bid you welcome, please enjoy your visit!" Tessa announced. "Open the gates!"
Fireworks erupted as green lights lit over each gate. The Hospitality workers waved their lines forward. The crowd surged and soon the sounds of stiles being passed through could be heard. Several workers had been out working the lines, steering guests with the younger children to the correct lines. Tessa went back inside and disappeared.
People streamed through at a respective pace and after glancing at the large map or consulting the ones in hand, began wandering off to see the sights. It wasn't long and people began rushing from one thing to the next. Many were making note of the showtimes. As those showtimes approached, lines began to form then file inside. After the performance, those coming out spoke excitedly about seeing the other shows and moving off to pre-position themselves for advantage.
Soon after the first Mermaid show, Danica and her cast went outside.
Danica sneaked out leading them and exclaimed. "Land! WE'RE ON LAND!"
People milling about stopped and looked.
"Away the water rinsed. On land I look for a Prince! To show me sights beyond the Sea!" Danica sang and wandered around.
The cast sang together. "She will find the very best. Danica, our Princess! From beneath the blue, blue Sea!"
"A smile from a heart so true? Eyes of sapphire blue? With hair dark or fair? Where will I find, the Prince for me?" Danica smiled as she sang.
The cast sang back. "Can she find a prince to join us, under the Sea?"
Danica ended the song as she posed. "Perhaps one day, my Prince will come to find me!"
The crowd clapped, especially all the young girls. Music began to play from hidden speakers, so Danica and her cast danced. After the song ended they began interacting with the crowd that remained. They posed for pictures, informed of the attractions, concessions and rides.
Danica had done some research online and found out some of the pitfalls suffered by cast of other parks and tried to apply some techniques. When boys older than 12 or men wanted to pose for a picture with her, she slipped her hand to the crook of their closer arm.
"Stand tall and smile!" Danica said cheerfully, smiling.
The trick worked, any would-be gropers were outsmarted by her cleverness. The other mermaids followed suit, as did the mermen, not knowing exactly why. For the smaller children, they would crouch down to their level for the picture.
Elaine Oberline wandered around with her husband and children. Naturally each had their own interest. For her husband, Jerrod, it was the games. Her son, Rick, was excited about the rides. Debbie, her daughter, was loving the shows and shops. For Elaine herself, she wanted to check out the foods. A quick compromise was reached. Elaine and Debbie would check out the shops, concessions and secure places in the lines to see the shows while Jerrod and Rick played the games and rode rides.
By the end of the day, each had their favorite section of the park. Debbie loved SeaSide, but Rick wanted to stay in WildForest. Jerrod liked SnowyHill and Elaine loved Storm Bayou.
"No way! Princess Danica and her Merpeople show is the best!" Debbie protested.
Rick shook his head. "It's the rides over in WildForest."
Jerrod chuckled. "SnowyHill has the best games."
"Storm Bayou. The food is excellent. I even got to meet Chef Andre." Elaine said.
They had all went back to SnowyHill for ice cream. It was all made in-house. A custom combination could be made by mixing different ice creams on a slab of marble that was kept cold from refrigerant lines underneath it. They also offered all the toppings, cones and so on.
Elaine had practically been waving all day, as expected of a Mayor. To see the Governor, Senators and Congress members of the state in the park shouldn't have been a surprise. A face or two from the travel network were a surprise. An even bigger surprise was that they weren't filming. Elaine found out that they would be doing that the next day. Today they were scouting, determining the best things to highlight. Opening day crowd was good, but the second day would be even better. People that visited on First day would spread the word; calls, emails, social media and good old fashioned face to face conversations.
The only media cameras seen in the park that day, had belonged to the local news networks. They did segments in each area of the park, highlighting the shows, rides and concessions. During the evening broadcasts, the anchors did look a bit envious of the field reporters and promised to visit the park themselves, at first opportunity.
Joe Nably wandered around the park. The more he saw, the more he felt angry. First the property had sold without his knowledge and now it was in use as a park again. His big plans were effectively shot. The amount of people running around began to make him rethink though. He didn't know anything about Amusement Park operations and revenue. That would be something he would research back at his office. If first impressions were true, such places were practically goldmines.
One thing went without doubt, Joe Nably loved money more than anything else. Everything else paled, when put against money. He had much research to do back at his office. There was still the question of where Tessa Frost had come from? More importantly, where had her financing had come from? Most importantly; how could he take it all for himself? Why wasn't Councilman Ralph Conway coming up with answers?
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 12 of
VentureRealm Park |
Soft opening was going well. For three days after the first one, camera crews for various media had been seen all around the park. Guests as well as cast were interviewed, especially the princesses. Tessa was indulging in a bit of mischief, frequently in view, but out of reach for the media. She had already given an off-camera interview to them and thought it better that the cast be given a chance at the spotlight. The fact that the media was now being kept at a distance seemingly by chance was a little amusing for her.
Tessa was sitting on a bench hidden in a shady patio, drinking a cold bottle of water when she felt as if someone were watching and slightly turned. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a small head trying to peer around the shrubs.
"Well, who might you be, sneaking around?" Tessa turned to smile.
A little girl, looking no more than seven edged around looking nervous. "I'm sorry."
Tessa beckoned her over. "Let me see you, little one. It's alright."
Once she was facing her Tessa reached out and stroked her hair. "I'm Queen Tessa. Who might you be?"
"Taylor, Ma'am." Taylor said timidly.
Tessa frowned. "I'm sorry young lady. That won't do. The proper way to greet a Queen, is to curtsey and say your name very clear. Let's try that again. I am Queen Tessa. Who might you be?"
Taylor quickly did her best to curtsey. "I'm Taylor, Queen Tessa."
"MUCH better." Tessa smiled and moved her hand. "I'm fairly certain that you are a tad small to be running about all by yourself. Aren't you?"
Taylor looked caught and nodded. "Momma was talking on her phone."
"Queen Tessa?" A Security member stepped around the corner and asked.
Tessa looked over. "Max. Send for my Captain of the royal guard and a Shepherd."
Max was quick on the take and stood at Attention. "AT ONCE, My Queen!"
Tessa nodded and he bowed then left. The position of her hand had been a secret signal to Over-Watch, who then dispatched the closest member of Security to her. Max quietly radioed in for Dave and one of the Shepherds to join her. It took only a few minutes for them to arrive.
Dave bowed and Liz curtsied as they said in unison. "Queen Tessa."
"Ah! There you are. Miss Taylor here, seems to have misplaced her mother. I would like that taken care of by the time Miss Taylor finishes the ice cream we are going to get for her. Captain, escort us please?" Tessa asked.
Dave smirked, she was playing it up for all she was worth for the little girl. He wasn't about to let it go to waste. "Of course My Lady."
As he turned to go out of the patio, he quietly radioed in. Liz came over and held out her scanner.
"Just a wave of my wand and I'll know what I need, Miss Taylor." Lizz said then waited for the information to come up. "Lost sheep, lost sheep. Let me find you, like little Bo Peep."
The data came up on the screen and she nodded to Tessa.
"Come along Taylor." Tessa stood up and held out her hand. "My royal guard will find her while we find ice cream."
Taylor smiled. "Ok Queen Tessa!"
By the time they came out of the patio, Dave and six members of Security were waiting and formed up for an escort detail. Together they all moved out and went to the ice cream shoppe. Tessa took Taylor through the line herself and they sat at a table outside that had been made available by Dave and his impromptu detail.
"YUMMY!" Taylor exclaimed after a lick of the Bubble Gum and Cotton Candy Mixed scoop cone with sprinkles.
Tessa gave her a serious look. "I searched all winter long; every icy glacier and snow covered mountain, to find the best ice cream maker. I finally found him though and brought him back to VentureRealm."
Taylor looked impressed. "WOW! Where did you find him?"
Tessa leaned forward. "I found Casey in a big frozen meadow, trying to teach a mob of snowmen to yodel. Luckily, I was able to get him back to a place that had hot chocolate. When his brain thawed out, he was very confused. I told him what happened and he asked me to save him. So, I brought him back with me, to cook here in SnowyHill and make the ice cream."
"OOH, he got lucky!" Taylor said.
Tessa nodded. "Indeed."
Dave and his contingent were fighting very hard not to laugh. He had never heard Tessa concoct such a wild story to explain something before and he was enjoying every second of it.
"TAYLOR!" A woman shouted as she rushed up.
Taylor looked and smiled. "Hi Momma."
The woman was about to speak, but was cut off, by Tessa. "Just as I said Taylor. My guards can find anyone in my realm, no matter how lost they get."
"Indeed My Queen." Liz remarked then curtsied.
Tessa stood up and held herself regally. "And there you are. Taylor was quite worried; when YOU wandered off. There are laws in the realm. This is a place of fun after all. How can a young lady have fun, when the person she is with just wanders off not paying attention?"
"Pardon me, My Queen." Dave interrupted then leaned close to whisper in Tessa's ear.
Tessa listened and her expression changed and she began to glare at the woman, but speaking more to herself. "Really? Twenty minutes?"
The woman looked mortified. She knew she had been on her phone a while, but not exactly how long. Twenty minutes was a long time to ignore a child in such a place. Though the call had been work related, it hadn't been urgent. To be honest, it was just a co-worker wanting to annoy her because he could and did quite often. She had been irresponsible and knew it.
"I'm very sorry to worry your, uh, people." She replied, embarassed.
Taylor went over to her mother and said, not exactly whispering. "She's QUEEN TESSA, Momma. You have to curtsey to a Queen. Boys bow, girls curtsey. THEN you say your name."
"OH." The mother curtsied. "Paige Hollaway, Queen Tessa. I'm very sorry Taylor troubled you."
Tessa nodded her approval to Taylor then said to Paige. "Taylor didn't trouble me."
'You did' was unsaid, but very much implied to Paige. It didn't go missed either.
Paige nodded. "I understand. I won't let it happen again."
"See to it." Tessa said then looked at Taylor and smiled. "Captain. See to it Young Miss Taylor is put on my special list. I am to be informed every time she visits from now on."
Dave nodded. "Right away Queen Tessa."
Tessa nodded back then smiled to Taylor. "Have fun Taylor. That's why everyone is here."
Taylor curtsied, followed by her mother, as Tessa left with her escorts.
Paige had only been paying token attention when the woman at the gate placed the bracelet on Taylor's wrist and took a picture. Now she understood why. The bracelet was very special. It not only tracked a child, it also could lead them directly to the parent if seperated. She had still been on the phone when someone tapped on her shoulder. She turned to see a woman park employee, she asked the call to hold and was told that her daughter was with a Queen, after being seperated from her for over the past ten minutes of her now marked at twenty minute phone call.
Paige wanted to kick someone, but realized very quickly it should be herself for being so stupid. After the Queen left, she was taking Taylor to play a game to make up for it. Her phone rang and she took it out, showed it to her daughter then turned it off.
"A promise to a queen is important. A promise to a daughter is more important. I won't do that to you again. Let's go have fun." Paige said and led a smiling Taylor to the game she had pointed at.
She remembered hearing something about a daycare center and wondered if it was true and if she could get Taylor into it.
The Wanderer system was quickly proving to be worth every cent it had cost. The Bo Peep platoon as well. Of the twenty members, fourteen were prior military and six had come from Law Enforcement. Three from police departments, one had been a Sheriff's Deputy, one came from a State Police agency and one former Federal Agent. All of them had come from other states and pounced on the 'only the stupid would refuse' offer from Tessa after being scouted by Dave Wells. Liz Clayton was the commander of the unit. She specialized in surveillance systems and had no problem adapting to the system.
"How'd it go?" One of the other Shepherds asked when Liz returned to the monitoring room.
Liz smiled. "First time we tried it in reverse and it worked like a charm, Bev."
"So what happened after that?" One of the others asked.
"Queen Tessa ripped her a good one and made sure she understood the little girl shouldn't be in trouble because 'momma pulled a stupid' and neglected her. One of the guys said they were having a hard time not laughing before that." Lizz started to giggle.
Beverly asked. "Why's that?"
Liz began to laugh now. "Tessa told the little girl some wild, off-the-wall, story about how she found that chef Casey Malorian. Something about him being brain frozen in a snow meadow trying to teach snowmen to yodel. Even the Captain was having it rough trying to stay cool."
"You know, when they first showed us these uniforms, I thought somebody was kinda 'out there'." The other shepherd, who's name was Amy, remarked.
Beverly looked over. "Yeah? And now?"
Amy chuckled. "I like it. They let us wear these sneakers if we want, or dress shoes if we want. Kinda of funny that we all chose the pleated skirts over shorts for warm weather and I like the polo shirts. If you didn't know any better, you'd think we were all on a tennis or golf team."
Liz sipped from her water bottle. "We blend in and stand out from Hospitality. Just like Queen Tessa and Captain Dave wanted us to. I really like our look, myself."
"Well, it's way different from life in the Corps, but I like that we still have that military bearing. I sure am glad I got that call from the Captain. I was getting worried what I was going to do on the outside." Amy remarked.
Bev asked. "How's Bobby handling the change?"
"He's still raw, but making all these new friends makes it hurt a little less. He still cries and feels ashamed for it though." Amy admitted.
Liz nodded. "It's tough on a little boy to lose a Daddy. And a wife to lose a husband. You two aren't alone though. We're all together and Captain Dave formed that group for families that lost service members. Take it as it is Amy, a chance for a new life."
"Thanks L.T." Amy nodded with a sniff.
Liz nodded to the others in the room. "Let's stay on it ladies. We got lambs to watch over."
"Yes Ma'am!" They all replied and went back to their screens.
With Liz, there were four in the monitoring room and four working the gates. Eight that would take over the shift change later and four off. The rolling schedule kept everybody fresh. It was working out just as planned by Dave wells, and better than the Shepherds had imagined. She had been with the Air Force and stationed at Nellis. She'd met the ex-Army Officer through a mutual acquiantance that worked casino security and they had become fast friends.
She had just decided to retire and try civilian life when he called, proposing something new and different. Her background had made her a perfect candidate for command of the electronic monitoring system for children in the park. She agreed to an interview and jumped at Tessa's offer. Liz was fascinated by the platinum beauty and her cobalt eyes that never wavered.
"Dave tells me you're just the perfect person to entrust the protection of the park's most precious treasure." Tessa had said.
Liz was intrigued and asked. "What would that be?"
"The children who come to play and dream. You will be in charge of an electronic system that watches over them. Are you that person?" Tessa asked
Liz had no idea why she felt compelled to say yes, but did it anyway and never looked back. Now she wouldn't have it any other way. She was doing something she enjoyed and growing to love the place and people she worked for. The unexpected that was quickly becoming the life she never thought to dream of. She wouldn't trade it for anything.
Beverly was ex-Navy and a parent herself, married to civilian currently between jobs as an electrical engineer only made sense as he would also be be made an offer to work on the staff as a technician. Being in the Navy had been good, but now as a parent and wife, bouncing around from base to base every year or two made things complicated. She too, had jumped at the offer without hesitation.
Joe Nably slammed the phone down. He had called everyone he knew and was getting nothing. Almost every bank in the state had given him the same thing. 'Tessa who?'
He had tried running a credit report and got nothing. A connection in the police department couldn't even find a traffic violation. The woman was practically a ghost. Before owning the park property, she didn't exist. There were three banks in Bayleston and he only had a contact in one, the one that couldn't give him any help.
The phone rang and he snatched it up. "WHAT?"
"Catch you at a bad time?" The caller asked.
Joe growled into the phone. "Tell me you finally have something Conway!"
"I have something." Ralph conway replied.
"Well?" Joe asked. "WHAT is it?"
Ralph replied. "Tessa Frost, Owner and CEO of Frost Entertainment Properties, banks with Great National Bank right here in Bayleston."
"Why the hell would they float her a loan?" Joe asked more confused now than ever.
"They didn't. She just banks with them." Ralph answered.
Joe had to take a minute to register that, but still didn't understand. "They didn't? Well, who did?"
"No clue." Ralph replied.
"Look Conway, without my contributions, your campaign to stay on the city council would have gone down the toilet. I want answers. Why aren't you getting them?" Joe Nably snarled.
Ralph didn't like being spoken to that way. "You didn't do that much of a favor. A favor that I've repaid many times over. I'm not a financial investigator or any other kind. I asked around and that's what I got. It may not seems like much, but sure sounds like more than what you had before I called."
Nably slammed the phone down again for the fifth time that day. "People don't just pop out of nowhere and plunk down 70 million dollars and open up a park!"
"Not 70 million. More like over 400 million." His secretary said coming in.
Joe's jaw dropped. "WHAT?"
"Over 400 million." She repeated then handed him a page. "70 million to buy the property. All the rides there previously had to be scrapped. I checked the prices of the rides there now, new, and got this. That doesn't include all the construction or food services and other things. It's just the rides. I counted up the buildings there and estimated construction costs for those. The only thing I couldn't figure in was the actual employee wages. Over 400 million is a conservative figure. I'm sure the actual figure is much higher."
"Then WHY is she so hard to get a line on if she has that kind of credit?" Joe demanded.
The secretary shrugged. "She may be actively concealing that. Many with big money do that, remember? She may own multiple corporations and this is the first thing in her own name."
Joe reached over and grabbed his phone and dialed then said when it was answered. "Brad. Joe Nably. I need you to drop whatever you're working on."
"It's a simple adultery case, but not pressing. Why?" Brad asked.
Joe replied. "That amusement park that just opened. It's owned by a woman named Tessa Frost. I want to know everything about her. See if you can get on there as well and find out anything dirty about the place."
"It's going to cost you Joe." Brad cautioned.
Joe kept his temper, barely. "Get me answers Brad."
The line clicked in his ear and he almost went with the urge to slam the phone again, but casually set it back down. Brad Foster was expensive, but had always gotten whatever Joe wanted.
Friday came. It had been announced and posted that the park would be closing early that day, at 6 p.m., to prepare for the official Grand Opening the next day. Everyone pitched in, to clean and add decorations. At midnight they began releasing cast members then staff as their assignments were completed. The princesses made final walk-through and reported they were ready. Tessa walked SnowyHill personally and deemed it ready. With that the final crews left the park to Zeke and his Nightwatch.
Tessa awoke at 6 Saturday morning. She hurried through a shower and styled her hair. In a simple short skirt and halter top, she had a quick breakfast then left for the park. She met in the conference room with the princesses and leaders of park's services for the briefing at 7. The briefing lasted thirty minutes and they broke. Tessa checked her office for anything immediate that needed her concern then went to her dressing room over in SnowyHill.
There had been the offer of a make-up artist to come to the dressing room for Tessa in the beginning, but she declined that. Instead she merely asked to be shown a better make-up scheme than the everyday plan she used. Tessa insisted that the hair and make-up artists focus on the other cast, as they spent more time with the guests. She finished her final hair style then dressed in the white gown and high heeled sandals. Tessa put on her tiara then took up her scepter and began making her way out. The VIPs would begin arriving soon.
Elaine Oberlin thought she had been impressed the day the park opened. Seeing it today, she was stunned. They had pulled out all the stops and decorated the whole park. There were even knights in gleaming suits of armour that took position at the gates and more that had formed an escort around Tessa and her princesses to escort them.
Governor Wayne Thompson couldn't believe his eyes. He had been given day passes for himself and his family for the first day and again for today. That first day had been incredible, today was beyond belief.
"Mayor Oberlin. Governor Thompson. Welcome." Tessa greeted them, backed by the princesses.
Elaine smiled and even gave a slight curtsey. "Queen Tessa. Princess Nicole, Princess Michelle, Princess Danica. Lovely to see you all."
"Welcome." Danica and Michelle replied smiling as Nicole said. "Bienvenue."
They went over the plan for the opening ceremony then formed up under the guidance of Dave. He was wearing an outfit that looked like a cross between a ceremonial cavalryman and a marching band's field commander. Other members of Security were dressed similarly in the colors of the park areas they represented.
Tessa was having fun with this and smiled broadly. "Captain. I believe we are now ready."
Dave let the smirk slip for a moment as he offered his arm for Tessa to take then called out. "Escort Detail; MOVE OUT."
Each Princess took the arm of her escort and followed behind Tessa and Captain Dave. Mayor Obelin also had an escort and no one was more surprised than Governor Thompson, when a female member of security wearing a skirted version of the ceremonial uniform and tall white boots took position by his side. Even the security dogs had been given some form of ceremonial decor. As a procession, they made their way to the gates and a platform just outside. At 9:30 a.m. the last person stepped up onto the platform.
Television cameras turned and focused as the Governor, introduced by Dave Wells, stepped forward and made a brief speech about his impression and experience of the park. Elaine Oberlin was next.
Elaine had felt flattered by having an escort. Even feeling a little like a princess herself. When Tessa had suggested that she present a charming look, she had taken that to heart. Wearing a tea length sundress and high heeled sandals, she did look charming.
"When I heard that the park had been bought and was being rebuilt, I was very excited! I met the lovely owner one day and we had a pleasant chat. When I was invited to a sneak peek, I couldn't refuse! An incredible place with wonderful people was taking shape here. I was fascinated by everything. I'm so very glad a place called VentureRealm and Tessa Frost, its Queen, is here!" Elaine Oberlin announced then clapped, making way for Tessa to come forward.
Tessa looked out to the crowd and smiled as several girls quickly curtsied and nodded back to them. "Thank you Madam Mayor, Governor Thompson, for your kind words. Long ago, a child visited a place made for fun. That child went sleep that night already dreaming of another time. Years went by and even though that dream seemed far away, it was never gone. The chance came and it was taken. That child of long ago, stands here now. A tiara upon her head and princesses standing by her side. Children, enjoy. Have fun and dream. You never know when one can come true! GUARDS. TESSA FROST, QUEEN OF VENTUREREALM COMMANDS YOU: OPEN THE GATES! Welcome to VentureRealm Park!"
On soft opening day there had been some fireworks when the gates opened. Today though, there was close to twenty times that as the green lights lit over the gates and the knights in armour came to Attention and walked through. Music began to play and the gatekeepers waved lines forward. Children squealed in excitement and lunged forward, holding the hands of their parents to go through the gates. Even if they had already been, today was special and they knew it. None were disappointed inside the park. Everything looked completely brand new.
Tessa smiled after her attention was caught by Liz. Standing beside her was little Taylor, wearing a princess play-dress.
"Well now. Look at you! Very charming Miss Taylor." Tessa said.
Taylor gave her a deep curtsey and smiled. "Hi Queen Tessa. Momma brought me back to see the park."
Paige wore a simple sundress and mimicked her daughter. "Hello Queen Tessa. I promise good behavior today."
"Oh? That would be very nice." Tessa remarked, looking at her intently.
Taylor stepped closer and Tessa bent down to listen as she said softly. "Momma turned her phone off before we got out of the car so she won't get called again."
"VERY good. Then I leave her in your care Taylor. See to it she has fun, but doesn't get lost." Tessa smiled.
Taylor nodded. "Yes Ma'am! Come on Momma!"
Paige smiled as her daughter took her hand and pulled to hurry into the first area of the park they could get to.
Children were flocking to the princesses happily. Each one gathered up a group and led them to their area of the park followed closely by their parents or sitters. They danced and skipped along, clapping and trying to sing along with their chosen princess. Some had an advantage as they were the children of the construction workers and had met the princesses in the daycare center.
Tessa turned around and was surprised. She, too, had attracted a following of children. All looked up at her with smiles and adoring eyes.
"You all must be my Ladies-in-waiting! Now that you're here, let's go to SnowyHill!" Tessa said.
Two girls quickly reached out to hold her hands and she nodded to their adults and led them further into the park. The official opening had indeed, been grand.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 13 of
VentureRealm Park |
Tessa sat at the head of the conference table looking at her department heads and princesses.
"Jill, were you able to get those figures?" Tessa asked.
Jill, from Park Accounting, sighed. "I have some figures. No way for sure if they're true. They'll have to do, though."
"Go ahead Jill." Tessa said.
Jill nodded. "The figures from Soft Opening Day One exceed the original park's Grand Opening Day One. In terms of guests and monies collected, we exceeded the previous by three times."
Low whistles were heard around the table.
Dave looked over. "Anything odd about it?"
"Yes Sir. On Day One, teens outnumbered children four to one. By teens I mean ages between 14 and 17, children between the ages of 6 and 9. Pre-teens, 10 to 13, were close to the elder teens. Adults to pre-teens was close. Day Two, things changed. The ratio of children and pre-teens surpassed the number of adults and teens. If the records are true, both days exceeded the original park's grand opening Day One and Day Two." Jill reported.
"That's awesome!" Danica remarked excitedly.
Nicole looked over. "The old park, it have show like us?"
Jill shook her head. "No Princess. The old park did not have dedicated shows such as ours. Only temporary limited performances by medium range entertainers. No real Headliners."
"So they just had like mini-concerts?" Michelle asked.
Jill nodded. "Yes Princess. Please understand, the original park didn't actually have a single theme, much less four like we do. To be blunt, it was more of a permanent carnival. The food services were that expected at a carnival and most of the games as well. The rides was where they spent most of their money. From all I could learn, the cast was cobbled together and they improvised the characters. To the small children, it seemed great, but to the adults, it was lacking."
Tessa seemed unsettled by that. "Jill. The last week the park was open, how were they doing?"
"They were deep in the red. I found out that the tornado solved a problem. The park was failing so badly that it was going to close at the end of summer. If it hadn't been for the insurance money, the previous owner would not have been able to pay off everything when the park declared closure. He did sell whatever he could after that, because he personally was deep in debt." Jill said heavily.
Jennifer shook her head. "That's really rough. Now I understand why Bill and his guys kept saying that the park would at least be built right this time. Does the previous owner still live around here?"
"Dave." Tessa prompted.
Dave looked over to Jennifer. "He doesn't. After he literally sold off everything he owned, except his car and clothes, he joined a traveling carnival. That was only for a year. He discovered he had cancer. Police reports state that he did leave behind a note, a crude will and enough money to be cremated. He overdosed on a prescription pain-killer and alcohol, in a police station parking lot. He also included the title to his car, so it could be sold to cover any remaining cost of his final expenses. He last request was that his ashes be scattered into a river not far from here. Those wishes were carried out."
Tessa sat looking very sad. "This is the part where callous comments about mismanagement or lack of vision would be made. I'll not have any of that. The old park did something for me and I never forgot it. I had a dream as a child. Now that I'm an adult, I got a chance to make it real. Then I learned that I can do better than my dream. I will. WE will. The old park gave me a dream. I want this park to give others their own dreams. Maybe even make a few real. If we can do that, it's enough for me."
Danica sniffed back her own tears. "You already gave me mine."
"Me too." Nicole added. "Live better any dream now. Just wish Mama see me now."
Tessa gave a soft smile. "Ladies, let's not linger on that. I'm happy that you are enjoying yourselves. I think it would be nice if you turned that into a gift for the guests, especially those that will go home and dream. Let's move along."
With smiles, the other departments reported in. The meeting broke and the princesses went to get into costume while the department heads reported back to their sections. Tessa, had paperwork to deal with. It was fast looking like a busy indoor day for her. That was to be expected. Unlike the princesses, she wasn't just cast. Still, she did change into her gown and tiara then made three quick appearances for the guests. Even winning a stuffed animal for a lucky child.
Elaine Oberlin had seen the report. The Sheriff's office had placed traffic counters on the road leading to the park. The numbers were staggering. Reports from the Tourism and Commerce commissions had also grabbed her attention. Currently the the hotels and motels were holding steady, but Tourism reported that they suspected that after summer there would be more going to be built, and closer to the park.
"This just came in." Chet said coming into the office and handing over a single page.
Elaine read then commented. "Well with the good Congressman, that's all of them. Every politico in the state visited the park and had a blast."
Chet nodded. "Yes. Well, now that you've spent more time around her, would do you think of Miss Frost?"
"Don't you mean Queen Tessa?" Elaine corrected with a sly smile. "She's a great person. A lot braver than I've ever been. Blunt too. I wish I had her sense of freedom. She says what's on her mind and means every word. I wish I could do that."
"What about the possiblity of running for an office?" Chet asked.
Elaine sat back. "I asked her straight out."
Chet's eyes widened. "Yeah? What did she say?"
"I thought she'd never stop laughing." Elaine replied.
Chet's jaw dropped. "Wait! Are you serious? She laughed?"
Elaine chuckled. "She sure did. Then asked me why would anyone give up being a queen for an office job? Two seconds later, I was laughing too and almost had an accident. The Governor almost drowned in his lemonade."
"She does have a point." Chet said and began to chuckle as well. "I've heard that the Security there is remarkable."
"Oh that's only what you've seen! Every member of her security force are either former military, former law enforcement or both. She has a security force and emergency medical response teams. We've only seen the face. There are forces within the force, some in plain sight and others behind the scenes. Oh, and I found out that Captain Dave was in Intelligence in the Army. He really was a Captain." Elaine informed her assistant.
Chet looked impressed. "That makes sense. He would make a great head of security. Ever find out why they call her Queen Tessa?"
"Yep. Two reasons. She is the Queen of the park and she takes care of her people. From what I understand, they want for nothing." Elaine said flatly.
"That's a bold statement." Chet edged.
Elaine shook her head. "It's an accurate one. If they live in that dorm, they have no housing expense and it's not deducted from their pay either. Meals in the dorm are free as well. The only expense they have, are personal. Even the make-up they wear on duty is provided by the park. Uniforms or costumes as well. Right down to socks and shoes."
"Wow." Chet said. "Does anyone else do that?"
Elaine shrugged. "Maybe for major characters. Something else too. She has an in-house health inspector. Concessions and so on are checked daily. Before the official inspector even shows up, that place has been checked out and kept ready to pass any inspection. I told you about the medical teams; she has four teams of a Paramedic and EMT. The teams' leader is former Navy corpsman that served SEAL and Marine units in combat. And if that weren't enough, there are two full time registered nurses at the medical station. Queen Tessa isnt playing around about safety and security in her park."
Chet looked astounded by all that. "All that's not common knowledge, is it?"
Elaine shook her head. "Nope. And there's more, but they are keeping alot of that information restricted. I can understand why. I don't think there's a safer place in the state."
The phone rang, interrupting them. Chet ran to answer it. Elaine could hear him talking. Apparently a reporter had called and wanted an interview with the Mayor.
Brad Foster had been going over every database he had access to. Tessa Frost was an interesting read, in the fact that not much was there. Someone was pretty good at keeping her under the radar. She had an excellent credit rating, but it wasn't being used. It seemed that nothing she had was being financed at all. No loans, no debts, not even a credit card. Only a bank issued check/debit card. There were seven cellphones for her Frost Entertainment Properties and they were paid like clockwork. Every member of her security force were licensed and bonded, all medical personnel were licensed. The legal department was licensed as well. It seemed the main attorney for the park was a civil and criminal defense attorney named Trent Valen.
"I guess I'm not really going to get any further without getting in there and digging around." Brad said to himself.
He grabbed a ball cap, sunglasses and headed out. It was a nice enough day, spending it wandering around an amusement park wasn't a bad idea. If nothing else, the newspapers had raved about the foods there. An hour and half later, he paid his entry and went inside.
The first thing Brad noticed were the wristbands. Every little kid he saw had one on their left wrist. He loitered around the gates and saw those bands being placed on the kids' wrists by women working certain gates. At first he thought they were some kind of pass, then realized the only people coming through those gates were those with children under a certain age.
"Excuse me." Brad called out to a woman with a little boy. "Is that like some kind of VIP thing?"
The woman shook her head. "Oh, no. It's a child locator, like at Playtime."
Brad nodded. "Right. I've heard of those. That's a good idea. Sorry to bother you. I thought it was a kid pass thing."
"Oh, no. They do have multi-visit cards though. I got one of those the first time we came. You can pre-pay and add visits as much as you like. It even comes up with your picture when they scan it, just in case it gets lost or stolen! You can also get prepaid cards for the shops and food. They sell those and multi-visit cards at the main shoppes. It's really nice. Not even Disney has that!"
All that did sound rather impressive to Brad. "Cool. I'll check into that. Thanks and sorry to hold you up."
With that he wandered on. The first thing he noticed were the cameras. They seemed to be everywhere. He counted more cameras in thirty yards than down a whole Mall concourse. It was like being in a casino in Las Vegas. He had seen free maps and took one. On it he began marking off camera locations. In the Main Shoppe of Bayou Storm he made enquiries about the passes and cards. He bought a pass and loaded it with three visits then a park charge card and pre-paid fifty dollars on it. He was careful to use cash since he used a fake license.
"They don't have to worry about shoplifters in there for damned sure." Brad commented outside.
He had noted the cameras inside there as well. Out of curiosity he looked around in other shops nearby and saw they too, were well covered with cameras. Back outside, he continued to mark off locations on his map. When it was showtime, he went into the theater for the Cajun show. Afterward, though he'd never been to the state, he thought it seemed authentic enough. He had visited Branson before and the show seemed better than most he'd seen there.
In the Mermaid show, it seemed the front rows were dominated by females of all ages. He had to admit, it was a show worth seeing. The girls were beautiful and the guys looked attractive as well. He swam for exercise at a health club and knew it was demanding. The people of the show, however, looked like true athletes. The red-head being referred to as the princess was the obvious star and it showed. What surprised him were the lack of Disney references. It looked like it was all its own theme.
Next up was SnowyHill. He could tell it would only take a change of costume to switch it over to a Christmas show. Again, the whole area was saturated with cameras. He'd never counted so many before. Just to try it, he stopped at the ice cream shop. It was better than the national chains he'd been in. From there he went into WildForest. It had a Western theme to it. The show was good. Real hunger finally caught up to him there though.
Brad had a real problem now. It seemed there were a lot of food options that appealed to him there. Finally he decided on the barbecue. He ate there and loved the Beef long ribs. They were better than any he had ever had. The baked beans and potato salad were excellent as well. The only complaint he could think of, was the lack of beer. To him, and a few other diners, the thing missing was ice cold Corona and Budweiser. Understandable though, it was meant for families. He had ordered a raspberry iced tea and it was fine. He couldn't say no to the blackberry cobbler and even had another serving of it.
Outside again, he saw several Native Americans performing some kind of dance while an older one was talking. A woman behind him was also talking. Then Brad's attention was diverted. A woman in all white was talking to people in suits.
"So, she's Tessa Frost." Brad commented to himself.
He took note of her. She wore a full white ballgown and a tiara on her head of light hair. He wondered if the platinum hair was real and then decided it had to be real hair, even if the color wasn't. She had no guarded movements, in fear of a wig slipping, and even ran her fingers through it before adjusting the tiara. The gap between the dress and ground revealed she looked to be wearing sandals with a high heel. The star of the Saloon show joined them after a curtsey to her and the discussion continued.
He wanted to get closer to hear what was being said, but the four men in black shirts, hats and khaki BDU pants had taken notice of his interest in the group. The embroidered badges made it clear who they were. Security. Brad decided it would be better to move on and did. Coming back on the gates, he finally found an answer to a question he had. There was a small building that had three computer terminals. It was the on-site applicant kiosk. After looking around at the employment posters, he sat down and filled out the application. Finally he left the park.
"Miss Frost, I look forward to a continuing good relation. Miss Hamilton, it's been a pleasure." One of the suited men said.
Tessa smiled. "I'm sure VentureRealm and the Bureau of Indian Affairs are going to get along just fine Director Black. I do appreciate you taking the time to come see us personally."
"Not at all. To see Native American culture being proudly displayed not only as entertainment, but also in an educational light is something all Nations can agree on. I thank you for the respect you and your people here have shown." Michael Black replied. "I know Mike feels the same."
Bureau of Indian Affairs Deputy Director Michael Smith nodded. "You're right Michael."
"Two Mikes make it right?" Tessa snerked.
Both men groaned in response as everyone else in the group chuckled. It had become a running joke as the Director and Deputy director were both named Michael. Yell 'Mike' in a meeting and multiple voices would answer.
"All puns aside. Your request will be decided in a week. I understand why you filed. I just hope that problem doesn't present itself." Michael Black remarked.
Dave nodded. "We hope so too Sir, but it pays to be ready in case it does."
Tessa smiled. "All that now aside, would you care to take lunch?"
Janet Wintersky nodded. "That does sound good. I've never eaten with a Queen and Princess before."
Princess Michelle smiled. "Right this way Miss Wintersky. WildForest has alot to offer!"
At the back of the procession Dave smiled at Tessa. "You really are sneaky. I'd have never thought of this."
"I got the idea after talking to Linda JumpingDoe. When I told her what I thought of, I thought she was going to pee herself into a flood, laughing so hard." Tessa smirked. "I want to be ready for idiots before they figure out they should come here."
At seven that evening Jennifer went over to the Park's Daycare to get Bethany. She found her sitting with three girls her age playing with dolls. Watching them for a couple of minutes, it seemed like they were using the dolls to put on a show for themselves.
Jennifer knelt down by her daughter. "This looks fun! What are you girls doing?"
Bethany looked up. "Hi Mama! We're rehearsing."
The girls took turns introducing their dolls then began to tell her about the songs they were coming up with. Other parents began to come in and collect their children. Jennifer began to walk Bethany out.
"So what should we have for dinner?" Jennifer asked.
Bethany looked up. "Can we go to SeaSide? We can have spagetti!"
Jennifer laughed. "Alright Bethy. If Chef Joann weren't so good, I wouldn't go for it. I'm glad all the meals here aren't junk food."
Bethany was holding Jennifer's hand, but still skipping along then stopped to walk. "MAMA! I forgot to tell you!"
"What honey?" Jennifer asked encouraging her to continue walking.
Bethany smiled big. "Day after tomorrow they said we could bring swimsuits. If it rains as bad as they think, then the park has to be closed, but we can still come since everybody still works."
Jennifer nodded. "Yes. I'll be here working, but why the swimsuit?"
"Cause Princess Danica said we can come to SeaSide and they'll let us swim in the lagoon with them!" Bethany said excitedly. "They'll even teach the ones that can't swim, too! And the next day, if it's still raining, Princess Michelle will teach us how to dance. Queen Tessa promised to read us a story both days, too. Princess Nicole said she was going to teach us songs."
"Well, hello there." Princess Danica greeted them.
Bethany ran the short distance and hugged her. "Hi Princess Danica! I just told Mama about day after tomorrow!"
"Hi Jennifer. You don't mind if Bethany comes to play in the lagoon with us do you?" Princess Danica asked.
Jennifer laughed. "I guess it'll be ok. If you're going to play in the water, what could be safer than with the princess and her mermaids and mermen."
Bethany was still a ball of energy. "We're gonna go eat spaghetti!"
"Enjoy, but be careful not to get any on you." Princess Danica smiled and gave her another hug.
Jennifer had to smile. Her daughter was happy and finally stopped crying herself to sleep every night. For the first time since her husband had died, it hurt a little less for Jennifer. There was a group of single parents among the park staff. Mostly of the prior service and law enforcement members. Simple but plain fact was, the military frowned upon being a single parent in the service. They would even promote to encourage retirement. At a higher rank, the benefits increased.
The familiar face of Mark waved them over to a table in the Bistro and Bethany rushed over. He invited them to join him at dinner. Jennifer liked the SARC and was starting to find him charming. By the time they had finished eating, Jennifer had the mad urge to invite Mark to dinner the next night and did. Mark was surprised, but readily accepted.
Tessa stood in the Over-Watch control room. "What do you have Dave?"
Dave looked over to one of his men. "Bring him up Jake."
Jake typed and a face appeared on a single screen. "Yes Sir. That's him."
Tessa studied the face and shook her head. "Don't know him."
"He was in the park today. He bought a multi-visit pass and pre-paid a charge card using cash. All his details are bogus. He used a fake ID." Dave informed her.
That didn't set well with Tessa. "Not good. Ok, so who is this guy, what's he doing in the park and why?"
"I ran him. One: Bradley Foster. A private investigator. Not local, but in a city about an hour and half away. License is up to date. Concealed carry permit. A few Restraining Orders against him, probably work related. Two shootings, no deaths, self-defense. One was actually an attempted mugging. Miscellaneous traffic violations, a few misdemeanors, all paid; no time served." Dave listed, consulting a single page.
Tessa was taking all that in. "Sounds run of the mill to me. Aside from the bogus info, what's wrong with him?"
Dave turned around. "Ok, John. Bring it up."
A video began to play on the screen. Brad Foster was seen entering the gates, talked to a woman and boy then wandered on. He took out a map and regarded it for a long time, walking around. Suddenly the operator zoomed in. Markings were being made on the map.
"What is that?" Tessa asked.
John looked over. "He's marking camera positions Queen Tessa. All the cameras he can spot, are being marked on the map."
Tessa's expression hardened. "I don't like this."
"Neither do we Ma'am. With permission, let me fast forward. I'll show you what made us pay attention." John said.
The video sped forward then resumed speed. Brad was staring in a direction.
"What's he looking at?" Tessa asked.
John looked over. "You Ma'am. He's staring at you. Your escorts noticed him and called in. Ma'am he was very fixated when he saw you. Only after he saw that your escorts took notice did he hesitantly moved on. His body language says that he did not want to disengage. We don't like this Queen Tessa."
"We don't like it, at all." Added Jake.
Though he approved of their attitude, Dave did have to call them down. "As you were."
"SIR!" Both Over-Watch operators replied as they sat at Attention. "Apologies, Queen Tessa."
Tessa walked over to them and kissed each one on the cheek. "Your loyalty is a treasure, Gentlemen. Thank you for never wavering."
"I'm going to ask Trent for some assistance on this. He knows where to look for things on this guy not in the usual places. Jimmy Sloan was off today, but I'll talk to him tomorrow morning to see if he knows anything." Dave informed her.
Tessa nodded. "Bring him up again."
"Yes Ma'am." Jake answered and did so.
Tessa stared at the man's face. "Brad Foster. What are you doing in my park?"
"One other thing Queen Tessa." Jake added. "He filled out an application. Different information. It's been flagged by us. His face, passcard and information have been flagged as well. If he comes back, we'll know immediately."
Tessa nodded. "Stay on this. He does not roam around the park unchecked."
"MA'AM!" The two replied.
Dave led Tessa out. In the hallway he said. "He comes in the park again, I'll have him brought to me. I'll find out what he's up to."
"No. Bring him to me. I will find out what he's doing here, Captain. I'll take no chances with my people. He is to be brought before me and kept away from the cast." Tessa said firmly.
Dave smirked. "By your command."
Tessa chuckled. "You found that classics channel. Battlestar was popular at the group home I was in."
"Dirk Benedict was cute, back in the day." Dave commented.
Tessa shrugged. "No argument there. Not my type though."
"Lautner, Pattinson or Radcliffe?" Dave asked, curious now.
"Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom." Tessa replied.
Dave gawked. He hadn't actually expected her to answer and had to look to see if she was smiling. She wasn't, she had been honest.
"Wow. Never thought you'd really say. I'm surprised." Dave remarked.
Tessa smiled. "I thought about saying you, but I don't want my head of security in the hospital for a heart attack over a joke."
"Oh, now that's just MEAN." Dave retorted, but smiling and kissed her hand. "Zeke is waiting to take you home, My Queen."
"Thank you, Captain." Tessa smiled back then went out.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 14 of
VentureRealm Park |
Bradley Foster had been asking around. He asked at the Labor Office, temp agencies and even random people. The answer was the same every time, nobody knew exactly how people got hired for VentureRealm Park. There was a call, or somebody showed up, and the person was invited to an interview. They were either hired or not. Over at the Technical College a secretary remarked that Tessa met with prospects personally. Of the few that were interviewed, but not hired, he didn't get much. She had went after those that didn't already have job prospects. The ones that she had rejected would take a lengthy time to track down.
Tessa Frost was big on diversity and would not tolerate discrimination of any kind. Other than that, all he was getting was that she had a direct line on Veterans and high school kids that just graduated. At the local Mall he did overhear a couple of girls complaining that they had been overlooked during the hiring blitz. Brad wondered why that was, as both girls were rather attractive. The more he listened, the more he understood and began making notes on his smartphone.
"I can't believe that complete nerd, Evie, got hired over there!" Girl One complained.
Girl Two nodded in disgust. "I know RIGHT! I mean, she's nowhere near pretty."
"So she took Home Ec all three years? The little slummer had to make her own clothes, just so she wouldn't have to wear Goodwill rejects!" Girl One scoffed.
"Not that it HELPED!" Girl Two added with a laugh.
Brad got up and pulled a chair closer. "Hi. I couldn't help hearing. You said that you two had applied to work at that new amusement park and were turned down?"
Girl One looked him over. "What? You a reporter or something?"
"Something. I'm curious about the hiring over there." Brad replied.
Girl Two huffed. "That bimbo came waltzing into the school and talked to the Principal and the Guidance Counselor. Next thing; she was meeting with some teachers and kids started being called for interviews."
"Who got called in?" Brad asked.
Girl One all but stuck her nose up in the air. "Home Ec., Drama club, Computer class, 4-H and the Swim team. Basically all the nerds and rejects. The only ones that were something, were the swim team. Them I can understand, the mermaid show is good and it's harder than it looks. I don't swim like them, so I get it."
"Yeah. The mermaid girls are hardcore. I'd like to do that, but they've been swimming competition for years. But us, we could work the games and stuff. It's not hard. We'd make better princesses than the other two over there." Girl Two said.
Brad shrugged. "I don't know, you don't have the accent that one has. Do you?"
"Oh PUH-LEASE! That's not important. All you have to do is get up there and be pretty. I shouldn't have to sing or any of that." Girl Two sneered.
'Ok. It is easy to see why these two didn't get hired.' Brad thought to himself then the strangest idea popped into his head. "Just out of curiosity, how many jocks got hired?"
Girl One shook her head. "The closest thing to jocks working there, are the mermaids and mermen. There rest are all nerds, geeks and dweebs."
"Candice got hired." Girl Two pointed out. "She was a cheerleader."
Girl One shook her head. "She was in the Drama club though. Being a cheerleader didn't count for her. If the Drama teacher and the teacher for her dance school hadn't backed her up, she wouldn't have even been called. That's what she said when I asked her."
"One guy was from a rodeo club. The guy that does the rope trick stuff. Lame, but I guess it goes along with the show." Girl Two remarked.
Brad went back to something else. "You said 4-H. Why them?"
Girl One shrugged. "They work in that petting zoo thing. Most of them want to be veterinarians, so I guess I can get that too. I wouldn't do that job; they have to clean up the animal crap. Ut-uhn, not this lil' white girl."
"Me neither!" Girl Two echoed.
Brad tried not to roll his eyes. 'Yeah. Now I REALLY know why they weren't hired. They're lazy and racist. Probably a few other attitude problems swimming around too.'
"Well, I'll admit. The reason I asked, is because I applied too. I wanted to get on with Security there, but they never called me back." Brad said.
Girl One shook her head. "Hang that up. I heard that if you aren't military or an ex-cop, you won't get on. None of the Security just went up and applied. My cousin applied, they never called him. He knows one of the guys. The guy said that all the security people over there were Vets or cops and all the Vets had been in the war. You can apply, but you won't get hired. My cousin also said that the Security guys there don't talk about security stuff other than that. That they're like, WAY hardcore about it. Like being back in the military again and they love it."
Brad wanted to kick himself. His fake identity had no military or Law Enforcement background, neither could be faked. His real identity didn't either. Having a Security Guard reference meant nothing. He was screwed.
"That sucks. Well, thanks for telling me. I'll just have to apply somewhere else then." Brad got up to leave. "Take care."
While he drove away, he said to himself. "It seems, there's no way for me to get hired on. The only way into that park is as a customer or an intruder. This just got harder. One more thing, before I head back. Time to go talk to some banks."
Luckily for the park the heavy rains only lasted for three days. Five had been forecasted. As soon as it had cleared enough, the landscaping crew used carts to pull turbine-like blowers on trailers to blast water off the pathways. By the time the gates opened, the sun had fully broken through the remaining clouds. The time off had been used wisely, cast enjoyed free days. Many however came in to help out with the daycare center. Tessa's original idea had expanded. There was the daycare center, for children 10 and under, but she added a lounge for pre-teens and teens. In the lounge there were tables, computer stations, chairs and sofas, three video game stations and a self-serve snack station. The kids would be able to work on schoolwork, socialize or game.
Make-up and hair styling tips from the backstage crew. Sing-alongs with Princess Nicole. Dance lessons from Princess Michelle. Swimming lessons with Princess Danica and her mer-people. Stories read by Queen Tessa. The younger children, and many of the older, had been highly entertained during the rain-out.
Tessa had already prepared for the day before going to her office and sat going through the usual paperwork wearing her gown and tiara.
"Now why don't they ever mention office work in all the fairy tales?" Trent Valens asked from the doorway.
Tessa smiled, but continued to read the paper in front of her. "It falls under 'Royal Duties'. Everybody knows that. What's up?"
Dave wandered in and took note of her appearance as well. "Now that's something you don't see in the story-books."
"So I'm told." Tessa remarked and abandoned the paperwork. "Both of you at the same time. Why do I get the feeling this just became a menage-e-trois of doom?"
Both took the chairs facing her desk and Trent opened his briefcase to retreive a file.
"It took some doing, but I got the low-down on your guy." Trent said.
Tessa asked. "The P.I.?"
Trent nodded. "Him. He's a legit P.I., for the past twenty years. No specialty, he'll take any case. He's thorough. Actually, he comes highly recommended by attorneys. He doesn't talk about previous clients or cases. The bulk of his business is by referral."
"So, no idea who he's working for or why?" Tessa guessed.
"I didn't say that." Trent smiled. "One of his biggest clients is a guy named Joe Nably. Biggest Real Estate guy in the state. Foster may not talk, but his some of his clients do."
Tessa got serious. "Tell me."
"If Foster is snooping around a place and not a person specifically, then he is more than likely working for Nably. A call I got yesterday, all but confirmed it. He was in the bank yesterday talking to the loan officer. She said that halfway through he brought up the park, assuming there was a loan. He seemed very surprised there isn't a loan. After that he stayed on the subject for a while. When he left, she found it odd and ran his information. Same information he used to apply here. It didn't hold up to a full credit check, so she notified the Bank President. He called me and I talked to her." Trent said.
Dave spoke up. "According to the cops. Foster is very good at what he does. If there is any kind of dirt, he can dig it up. He walks that fine line, but he's never been caught doing anything illegal."
"True. All the restraining orders against him are from people that he investigated and were found to be dirty, but couldn't be arrested. More of symbolic defiance than anything else. They were slammed hard, but nothing they could do would save them and he was done with them anyway." Trent added.
Tessa sat casually. "Ok, so he isn't as important as this Joe Nably guy. So what's his deal?"
"He's all about the money. Any place worth owning in the state, he'll try for. He buys, developes or re-developes then charges an arm and a leg to make the big bucks." Trent explained.
"So he wants either the land or the park. If he got the park, he could go as long as he could then re-develope and parcel it off." Tessa surmised.
Trent shook his head. "Residential would be one thing, but he'd get more for commercial/industrial. Taxes and zoning and all that. Leasing would mean that there would always be income over a longer period of time. Residential is a one-shot deal. Commercial/Industrial can be done differently. Rent or leasing. This guy is all about the money. He wouldn't go residential."
Tessa frowned. None of this sounded good.
Trent finally threw in his disclaimer. "Bear in mind, this is all guess work. It's the most likely scenario, but no evidence. That's what we have; conjecture and supposition, nothing concrete."
Tessa let out twenty seconds of language no royal had ever been reputed to say.
"Wow. Never hear about that in the books either." Trent remarked.
Dave nodded and rubbed one of his ears. "I think I got singed."
"If that's it; then, Out, the both of you. There's work to be done." Tessa said and waved them out and gave a wink.
Princess Nicole and her crew had just finished performing outside the theater and began to wander around Storm Bayou. Children and adults both waved to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy just barely out of sight behind some hedges. He seemed to be trying to imitate the cajun waltz from her show, but was having a hard time. Nicole smiled, he was trying. That's when it clicked. He was trying to dance her part.
"Tell me, cha. Are you what you look like, or like me?" Nicole asked to herself quietly. "Hmmm. What this?"
A few other boys had wandered by and taken notice as well. The one was startled and began to look distressed. When a member of the group began to push at him, Nicole made up her mind. Even before she started moving, she looked to a camera and held her hand in the signal position as she walked forward.
"Only I make noise in my bayou." Nicole said hotly.
"You trying to dance around?" A boy scoffed.
Another sneered. "Just like a pansy."
"Leave me alone." The boy said, just above a mumble.
A third boy pushed him harder. "What's THAT? Why should we?"
"Cause if you don't, I be havin' say 'bout it." A voice behind them said firmly.
All of them turned to see the Cajun Princess standing there and looking angry.
"I Princess Nicole. Only one make noise in my bayou, be me." Princess Nicole stated. "You try make noise?"
The bigger of the bunch slapped a hand to back of the boy's shoulder and tried to move him along. "Just messing around. Come on guys."
Nicole wasn't having it. "Wrong. Hand off. Garcon, stand here."
The boy moved to the spot she pointed at as Nicole advanced and stared down the would-be bully. "I see you. Know what you try, yeah. Try treat me stupid. I ain't havin' it, none."
"Princess. Everything alright here?" A member of Security asked.
The boys looked and saw five people in black shirts and hats staring at them. The embroidered badges spelled out who they were.
Nicole kept her eyes on the one that had challenged her. "These LITTLE boy forget where they at. Maybe they remember now, yeah? That one there talkin' to me, Sean."
"So they'll be going." Sean nodded as he closed in and stared at the leader. "Right?"
When the big man hooked a thumb over his shoulder, they took the obvious hint and started leaving.
"See? You have problem, you ask for help." Princess Nicole said. "Now. What you name, cha?"
"Blair." The boy answered timidly. "Thank you."
Sean gave him a firm nod. "Well Blair, if you are being bothered by somebody, look for us with the black shirts. We'll help you. Princess, you got this?"
"M'yeah. You go on, look out for folk. I got this, yeah." Princess Nicole assured then gestured Blair to sit down on a bench. "Blair an' me, we talk."
The Security team moved out. When they were alone again, Nicole smiled gently.
"Just me an' you now, Cha. You see my show, try figure out waltz?" Princess Nicole asked.
Blair nodded. "Yes Ma'am."
Princess Nicole gave a half-shrug. "No hard. You probably learn quick enough. Allons, mignonne. Se lever, come on."
Blair found himself on his feet and facing the cajun then in a dance position. Slowly she told him the steps and moved him with them. The fairly simple footwork, took. Soon Blair found hmself moving around the small area easily as Princess Nicole sang in French. When she stopped, he blushed.
"Hmm. Quoi?" Princess Nicole asked.
"Could you?" Blair blushed even more. "Could you teach me to dance the girl part? Please?"
"Jolie, what you think you do all this time?" Princess Nicole asked.
A feminine voice suddenly cut in. "Blair! There you are! I've been looking all over for you."
"Su Maman?" Princess Nicole asked.
The women thought for a second then answered. "Oui. I'm Blair's mom. Your name is Nicole, isn't it?"
"Oui Madame. Je suis la Princesse Nicole de Storm Bayou." Princess Nicole answered proudly. "I teach Jolie-Blair waltz."
The woman was clearly struggling to remember her high school French lessons. "Uh; Je m'pelle Madelaine."
"Madam Madelaine, no need fight talkin' to me. I speak English, just fine." Princess Nicole through her natural accent, which was still heavy.
Madelaine laughed. "Oh good! I was running out of French. I took it in high school, but that was some time ago. Blair, you shouldn't pester the Princess, she's working."
"S'il vous plait, this IS work. Make sure have good time, yeah?" Princess Nicole waved her off. "This why we here. Queen Tessa say so. Have fun here, when Jolie-Blair go home, have dream. Maybe dream come true one day?"
Blair looked down and mumbled. "Boys can't grow up to be princesses."
"Hm? What that?" Princess Nicole asked.
"Boys can't grow up to be princesses." Blair said just little louder.
Madelaine gasped, but Nicole held up her hand to stop her from saying anything. "Cha, who lie so bad to you? Is that what you want? Be Princess?"
Blair nodded.
"I hate to tell you, but that's not possible." Madelaine said.
"Say who?" Nicole asked pointedly.
Madelaine shook her head. "He wasn't born a girl, like you. It just doesn't work that way."
"And who say I born completely girl? I no born this pretty. I work for it, yeah. Just like the other Princesses here." Princess Nicole stated then turned to Blair. "I no say it right for you. Maybe you girl inside, maybe no. Gotta go Doctors, find out for true. I tell true though; no easy thing, being girl. Some, they don't like. Some don't want and you can't force. Be on bad side, yeah. Some ok though, they help. Others walk off, leave you alone." Princess Nicole said seriously.
Madelaine was shocked. "Seriously?"
"Mama knew. She love me, no matter what. Even while Moccassin still bite her to die, Mama smile at me. She say 'No forget, always love you, Cha. You go be prettiest girl out there, Mon Jolie Nicole.' Then she kiss cheek and no more." Princess Nicole said as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Perfect? No. Love anyway? Oui. Mama tell me so, last breath. Never give up, that why I a Princess now."
"This is hard to take." Madelaine said sadly.
Princess Nicole stood up and hugged her. "Mama the hardest job ever. Can't take love and smile banks. Only keep in heart, yeah. Jeune fille, jeune homme, no matter. Blair you baby, perfect or no, love anyway and help all can. That a Mama's job. Perfect or no, Blair can make proud either way. Ain't that most important? Blair can do that, yeah Cha?"
Blair nodded. "I can do that."
"Madelaine. If Blair no lie, cheat, steal or fight. Is good, yeah? Good grades, learn dance, help 'round house. Girl and boy do that. Some girl mow yard. Some boy make clothes. Long as Blair don't run round drugs, drinkin', stealin', get in fight; that's good?" Princess Nicole asked point blank.
Madelaine had no choice, but to agree. "Yes. That is good. But what about the other kids? Our friends, hell, our family?"
"Other kids already pick, you never see? They try right here in my bayou, I don't put up with that none. Friend? Family? If they turn they back, that them and they ain't worth time or tear. Better off without, when they only want for themself and no for you. Any them perfect? Doubt THAT, yeah." Princess Nicole scoffed.
Madelaine sighed. "You have a point there. Ok Princess, I'll take your advice. I'll see about getting Blair to a therapist."
"There two in town. I no tell you name, you find one work for you and jolie-Blair. Ok, yeah?" Princess Nicole asked.
Blair piped up. "How do I learn French?"
Princess Nicole laughed. "You go learn in school maybe. Maybe Mama get you lessons. Remember now, I don't speak regular French. I'm Cajun, big difference."
"Oh." Blair said.
Princess Nicole hugged him. "No cry Jolie. You want learn, you learn. I grow up Cajun. Come see, we go talk Andre."
Madelaine was swept along with them as Nicole led them to the main cafe. All heads turned.
"ANDRE!" Princess Nicole called out.
The chef leaned out the door. "Yeah? What's the Princess wantin' now?"
"Cha-Blair want know how become Cajun." Nicole smiled.
Andre held up a hand and went into the kitchen then came back out with something in his hand and bent down. He spoke loud enough for all to hear.
"See this? This is Boudin. We take this and squeeze it out the case, into one of those baby food things. Stick the tip in your mouth and squeeze. We call that 'Cajun by injection'. Works sometimes. Other times, there ain't no hope." Andre said with a wink.
All the diners laughed at the chef's joke. Even Madelaine couldn't resist the humor and laughed.
Blair shrugged. "Ok. I'll try it."
"LORD LOVE A DUCK! Ain't you somethin'!" Andre laughed then called out. "Stacy! Bring this young 'un and his mama some Etouffe."
"Oui Chef!" A girl called back.
Andre directed them to a table, had a quick word with the server then said quietly to Madelaine. "Ya'll ain't payin'. This is on me, he made me laugh."
Princess Nicole smiled. "Queen Tessa herself talk Andre into come cook here from N'awlins. Don't get no better. Bon appetit."
With that the Cajun turned on her toes and gracefully walked out, smiling to the other diners. "Ya'll have good time my bayou!"
Joe Nably answered the phone. "Hello."
"It's me." Brad Foster stated.
"Finally! What do you know?" Joe demanded.
Brad began. "That park is a serious piece of work. They have camera saturation like I've never seen. The Security there is better than anyplace I ever heard of. I'd argue it's the best."
"Whatever. When do you start work there?" Joe asked.
Brad replied. "I don't. I don't have the background."
That surprised Joe. "What? You're a private investigator and you can't get on there?"
"Nope. All security must be former military, law enforcement or both. The former military are ALL combat veterans. They know each other. I can't bullshit my way in. Besides, all staff has been hired." Brad said.
This pissed Joe off. "We'll come back to that. What have you learned about the Frost bitch?"
"She has very little background. No legal problems, ever. Not even a traffic ticket. She banks locally, as does the park. Same bank. No loans. She's very direct. Very hands-on. She runs that park. She doesn't just sit in the office. She's out among the people. They call her 'Queen Tessa' and more than obvious it's out of respect. From what I hear, her people are well taken care of." Brad listed.
Joe was getting angrier by the word now. "She has to be vulnerable."
"I doubt that." Brad remarked.
"What do you mean?" Joe asked.
Brad sighed. "She never goes anywhere without an escort. Usually about six."
"Damn! Ok. Just break in there at night and screw with the rides and so on." Joe said.
Brad growled. "You don't pay attention. Joe, they have cameras there and I don't doubt they have roving patrols as well."
"You've gotten into places with cameras and guards before. It's easy, according to you." Joe protested.
"Not this place. They make the CIA look like cub scouts. Hardcore was invented to describe this place." Brad commented.
Joe growled. "TRY ANYWAY!"
Brad flinched when the sound of the phone being slammed down came through and said. "He just doesn't get the fact that people aren't as stupid as he thinks. I'll have to go back and do a recon during the day."
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 15 of
VentureRealm Park |
Tessa Sat in Brad Waverly's office Monday morning.
"So, somebody is out to get you." Brad remarked.
Tessa smirked. "You put it that way. Trying to throw in a dash of paranoia, Brad? Have I become boring now?"
"You are anything BUT boring, Tessa. I wasn't implying, you did." Brad corrected.
"Wrong again. I said that a private investigator is sniffing around the park. Said private investigator is reputed to do alot of work for a certain real estate person. Said real estate person is reputed to be seriously money motivated. It is the conclusion of my attorney that these two people are connected and focused on the park." Tessa listed then leaned in. "Where's the 'They're gonna get me' part I'm supposed to have put in there?"
Brad shrugged. "It sounds that way."
Tessa shook her head. "I've done the 'gonna get me' thing before. This isn't it. This is barely a minor annoyance. If these people decide that getting my attention in a negative way is a good idea, they'll learn otherwise."
That got the psychologist's attention. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"
"I'm fairly certain Trent can find a legal method to convince them to find something else to take interest in." Tessa remarked.
"What if they ignore that?" Brad asked.
Tessa replied flatly. "Then I'm sure that whatever misfortune they lure to themselves will become their primary focus. I hear police officers tend to be rather greedy about having someone's focus."
Brad nodded. "Ah. I've heard that too. Why don't we shift gears. I'd like to talk about Orchiectomy."
"Good subject." Tessa replied.
"If I could get you an appointment next Tuesday. Would that work for you?" Brad asked.
Tessa seemed to be mildly mulling it over. "I'm pretty sure it could. Afternoon would be good. Next Monday afternoon would be best."
Brad knew she had him. Once again; he had dug a hole for her to fall in, she challenged him of the depth and he jumped right in. "Ugh. You got me again."
"And you did all the work." Tessa smiled.
Brad just handed over the paper. "Here. You earned it. Sometimes I wish it was always this smooth, but then I don't think I'd be able to handle a full list just like you."
The timer softly beeped.
Tessa looked at it and smirked. "Aw. Saved by the bell again Brad. I'm starting to think you do that on purpose. Til next time."
"Uh-huh. Have a nice day Tessa." Brad said as she set the check on the coffee table.
Tessa hummed to herself as she drove back to the park, and her home.
Foster thought something was off as he went through the gate. He had used the multi-visit card, but could swear the gate hostess almost narrowed her eyes at him for a moment.
"Enjoy your visit." The young woman said.
The private investigator nodded. "Thank you."
Brad Foster made his way inside and took out his map. He wore different clothing this time. Knee-length shorts, polo shirt, sport sandals and Ray-Bans. In short, he looked like so many others. He even stopped and immediate bought a bottled water to tuck into the thigh pocket of his cargo shorts. Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up and slowly looked around.
"This doesn't look good." Foster muttered seeing a loose perimeter around him of people in black shirts and hats embroidered with badges.
"Welcome back." A voice behind him said coldly.
Foster turned around and looked at a formidable looking man flanked by two others. The aura coming off all of them screamed 'military' and 'combat veteran'.
"Follow me." The imposing man instructed then turned to walk away.
Before Brad Foster knew it, they had closed ranks around him as one reached over and took the map.
"I'll relieve you of that. Anything I should know about?" The Security-man asked.
Foster shook his head. "Just a pen, my wallet, phone and the water bottle."
Jimmy Sloan nodded. "Follow the Captain."
Foster thought it best to just play it cool. He followed where he was led. A set of doors were opened and he was led inside an office. He recognized Tessa Frost immediately, standing in front of the desk.
"Have a seat." The man called The Captain said and pointed to a chair.
Brad Foster sat down and the woman stepped forward.
"Why are you in my park, Mister Foster, Private Investigator?" Tessa asked flatly. "I'll let your imagination fill in the blank about attempting to lie to me."
Foster tried to play it cool. "A client wants to know about you. He didn't say why, I didn't ask."
Tessa was handed the map and held it up. "You're marking camera positions. I have no choice, but to think you intend to cause harm to the guests here. I will not allow innocent people to be made victims, simply because they are convenient, Mister Foster. Especially children. To quote John Wayne; that would cause me great annoyance and displeasure."
Brad Foster was by no means, a stupid man. The fact her voice now held ominous malice didn't go missed.
"No Ma'am." Foster replied.
Tessa kept a neutral expression on her face. "You've broken no laws, yet. The police will meet you at the gate and escort you off the grounds. Do not return Mister Foster. If you do, trespassing charges will be filed. When you report to Mister Nably, inform him that this park and myself are none of his business and I do not like his intrusions. Need I be more blunt, Mister Foster?"
"No Miss Frost. I understand your position and will convey that to my client." Foster replied.
The fact that Foster hadn't confirmed Nably as the client wasn't missed, just ignored.
Tessa simply said. "Good-bye, Mister Foster."
Brad Foster didn't need a baseball bat to the head for a hint. He stood up and was escorted out. A patrol car from the Sheriff's department was waiting. They gave him a written notice to leave the property and would be charged with trespassing if he returned, then followed him off the grounds. The message was very clear; don't come back.
Things stayed quiet during the week. Unfortunately, all that changed when a scream was heard in WildForest. Security responded immediately when Over-Watch called out over the radio net.
"WildForest, Code-8. Say again: Code-8. Location: Petting Zoo moving toward Saloon." Over-Watch informed them.
Code-8 being their code for adult in a panic. Force members close by rushed to the area. Others began making their way, but watching the crowd for anyone looking suspicious.
Mandy Kellar reached the woman first. "Ma'am! Calm down. Tell us what happened."
"We were about to go into the zoo. He wanted to play with the puppies. I was buying a packet of Nibbles for the puppies and when I turned back around, he was gone! He was standing right by me! He wouldn't wander off!" The woman said quickly.
Mandy nodded. "We'll find him. I need your names please."
"I'm Rachel Cavanaugh. My little boy's name is Tony." Rachel informed her.
"Over-Watch and Shepherds, flag Rachel Cavanaugh and Tony Cavanaugh. We have a Code-2, WildForest. Say Again: CODE-2, WildForest. Over-Watch start point is Petting Zoo, snack vendor." Mandy called out over the radio upgrading the alert to Missing Child.
Unknown to the crowd of park visitors, every member of Security went into action as the gates went into Lock-Down. Nine members of Over-Watch tore into Drone Control and launched their craft. One formation consisted of five craft and the other was four. They came in from opposite directions and began their sweeps. Two other members went into the monitor room and took up position to scan the screens.
The primary Watcher went back and located the pair at the Petting Zoo animal snack vendor and slowly advanced the time. Three men came up, two stood trying to block view and the other clamped his hand over the boy's lower face. The boy was lifted up and together the men moved away blocking him from view.
The Over-Watch operators began to narrate what they saw, directing Force members after the group. Suddenly a red dot appeared on a screen and began to flash.
"Shepherds to Over-Watch. We have an alert from a bracelet. Bracelet is Cavanaugh, Tony. An attempt is being made to remove his bracelet. Location: SnowyHill. Alley 5." Wanderer Control informed.
The Main Force members moved. Drones disengaged their grid search and streaked toward the area and were soon on scene as the cameras were brought up. It wasn't a blind spot. The camera there was disguised expertly and had been unnoticed. Within moments the faces of the men were up on the screens and being flagged. Now they would forever be in the system and unable to move within the park without notice, should they ever manage to get in.
The call went out for the Sheriff's department. Units were en-route. Fifteen members of Security, the med-response team, Mark, Dave and even Tessa herself converged to the area. In the lead were specific members that were previously law enforcement and had a secret of their own.
"Hurry up and get that bracelet off the kid!" One man ordered.
The one with a utility knife shook his head. "I can't cut through it. There's a metal band underneath."
"Pry it loose." The thrid man said and handed a flat-blade screwdriver over.
The one with the knife, pocketed it then took the tool and began trying to force the band's connection to the housing apart. The problem was, the tip of the blade could not gain any purchase. He swore in frustration.
The leader demanded. "What's taking you, Ted? Get it off him!"
"I can't! We're going to have to grind it off, Mel!" Ted replied.
Mel snarled. "DAMN! We'll take him over the fence then. Len, go get the van and meet us on the road. Let's go!"
Before they could split up though the sound of boots were heard and voices called out. "FREEZE!"
All three did just that. The last thing any of them had expected, was to facing down several drawn pistols.
"Why are they ARMED? Our scouting runs never saw any armed guards!" Ted hissed.
Jimmy Sloan smirked. "We're all Auxillary Deputies. Put the kid down and step back, slowly."
None of the three felt like giving up their trump card, the boy.
"Mister Sloan. I am going to count to five. If they have not complied, shoot one of them. In the groin." Tessa's voice spoke from behind them. "One. Four."
Immediately the one called Ted set the boy down. He stood up and held up his hands and backed away.
Mel glared at the people in front, but snarled at Ted. "Dumb ass! We could have gotten away, with the kid."
"No way. That woman and her men just want an excuse to shoot us legally." Ted shook his head.
Three members secured their pistols and moved forward, covered by two others each maintaining control, to search then cuff the men. Once secure, Mark and the medic team moved in to assess the boy's condition.
"Sharp!" One of the men called out then held up a capped syringe in his gloved hand.
Mark looked back. "The boy is unconscious. Pupils are dialated. He's been drugged."
Tessa looked at the men. "What did you give him?"
Mel sneered back. "Blow me!"
"Certainly." Tessa remarked then held out her hand. "Mister Sloan, your pistol please. This one wants to be blown; I'll use your pistol to blow his testicles off."
Jimmy smiled and handed it over. Tessa took the gun, worked the slide to ensure everyone knew it was definitely loaded with a round and stuck the muzzle down the man's pants.
"I'm no expert, but I'm sure I can hit something in there." Tessa said calmly, staring him in the eyes and pushing him to turn sideways. Only Jimmy saw the subtle wink meant just for him.
None of them actually expected her to do it, so the sound of the gun going off suprised them all. He screamed in horror and wet himself as he dropped to his knees.
Tessa frowned. "I missed? HOW could I possibly miss?"
Only Jimmy had seen her wink and knew that whatever she was doing, just go with it. The ploy worked.
"We gave him Ketamine! He'll wake up in an hour. I swear it!" Ted confessed.
Mel was staring at the hole in his pants, made when the bullet exited from being fired, struggling to catch his breath. There was also a large wet spot and a puddle underneath him.
Dave leaned down and spoke directly to him. "You definitely want to confess to the cops about what you and your buddies did, along with why. You should even consider informing them of everything wrong you've ever done. It would be a very good idea to go to a nice super-max prison. Better hurry, too. She might just get the idea that it might be fun to bail you out, personally, so she can improve her aim and then feed you to the REAL alligator over in Storm Bayou."
Mel looked up in horror as the woman in white slowly began to smile. "Oh that's a LOVELY idea, Captain. Mister Sloan. How fast can these three have bail posted? I just found myself a new hobby."
Jimmy didn't get a chance to answer. Nine Deputies and the Sheriff arrived. Handuffs were changed while Miranda Rights were read then the three kidnappers were taken out, followed by the medical cart carrying the unconscious boy and his mother.
"Miss Frost." The Sheriff said, turning around. "One of those suspects has wet pants and what looked suspiciously like a bullet hole."
Before he even finished talking, the Security force closed ranks. The message was clear, he was getting nowhere near Tessa.
"I guess my inexperience got the better of me Sheriff Dooley. I was demanded to perform an act. Sad to say, I didn't do so well. Or maybe there was some confusion and a miscommunication as to exactly what someone wanted me to do." Tessa remarked then took on a cruel glare. "I tend to get a certain way, when someone tries to hurt a child around me."
Jack Dooley wanted to groan. "Ma'am you understand that the case against them is now compromised. I may have to turn them loose, because of that."
"I doubt it Roy. I'd be surprised if you don't get a full confession for everything they ever did. In fact, they probably think prison is a fairly nice place to be." Jimmy Sloan commented.
The ex-Deputy had been practically prophetic. As soon as recorders were turned on, all three began to recount every thing they had done in their lifetime that was illegal, with full details. It would later be known that they had been part off a small kidnapping ring to supply pedophiles all over the nation for the past five years. Tessa would later secretly set up a foundation to cover the cost of treatment for the victims, and many more later on, called Little Ones Found.
Brad Foster was crouched close to the tall fence at one in the morning Monday. The park closed at Nine on Sunday nights, as a nod to working parents. He had reported in to Joe Nably as soon as he returned to his office to inform him that he had been confronted and they knew he was the client. Nably went off on a tirade, still demanding that Foster go in.
foster had made a copy of the map before going to the park on a second recon, so he had consulted it to come up with a feasible route. Still, he didn't feel confident about it.
"This is a bad, BAD idea." Foster muttered to himself.
Even the fence practically said 'Don't even think about it'.
He used a circuit tester to see if it was electrified. It wasn't. An extendable ladder on each side got him over the fence. Not subtle, but it was the only way as the vertical members of the fence had been sprayed with a permanant coating that prevented good grip. Also there were shrubs that had spiked leaves on both side of the fence to discourage climbers.
Back on the ground Foster sighed. "This place is a Security nut's wet dream. All they need is electrics and landmines."
Slowly he began to make his way, both walking and occasionally crawling in effort to avoid the cameras' field of view. His destination were neither rides nor attractions. He was heading to the offices. If he could get into the Personnel office and Tessa's office he could come up with some information that would satisfy Nably. If he was successful with those, he would then go into Accounting. Finally he reached the Administration building and used a set of picks to open a fire door.
"I'll take yes for an answer." Foster whispered to himself, noting the absence of any alarm.
He didn't see any sensors either as he entered. It took a few moments to locate the Personnel office on the ground floor. He began going through the file cabinets. Each file was pulled and photographed using a digital camera. After double-checking that nothing was out of order, Foster eased out of the room to proceed to his next target, Tessa's office on the second floor. The upper-cut to his jaw took him completely by surprise. The solid punch to his gut met with no resistance and doubled him over. This was followed by a series of punches that worked his abdominal area along with the occasional kidney shot.
"Zeke, you copy?" The radio on his hip came to life.
Zeke Malone called back. "Lima Charlie. Go ahead."
"Sensors have detected intrusion along the perimeter fence over in WildForest. Standby." Over-Watch informed him then added. "Confirmed. Intruder has scaled the fence and now proceeding into the park. He's trying to avoid the cameras, but doesn't know them all."
"I'm on my way. Vector me in." Zeke requested then asked. "Got an ID on the intruder?"
Over-Watch answered. "Affirmative. Brad Foster, the Private Investigator that's been thrown out and warned. Notation to alert the Captain, Queen Tessa and notify Sheriff's Department. Doing so now."
"Copy that. Continuing on Mission. Where is he?" Zeke asked.
"Admin. He's working the fire-door. Entry. We have him moving down the hall. He found the Personnel office and is entering." Over-Watch narrated.
Zeke had began running and now was within sight of the building. He knew every shortcut there was to get anywhere in the park. Some were there specifically for Security to use and hidden. Zeke made it to the door and used his RFID bracelet to open the door. Inside he stalked down the hall and took a position outside the office where his quarry was. Zeke turned down the volume of his radio and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the intruder came out. Zeke attacked without hesitation and continued, even when lights suddenly snapped on overhead.
Tessa had been met by ten members of the Main Force and joined them to go inside. She heard the sounds of violence and flipped on the hallway lights. Three-quarters of the way down, someone on the floor was under an onslaught of fists belonging to 210 pounds of enraged former-Marine. Tessa strode down the hall between the columns of her guards and stopped just back from the fight.
"MISTER MALONE." Tessa said loudly. "That will do. I would like you to stop now."
Zeke never took his eyes off the man, but did stop and slowly edged back. "Yes Ma'am. Barkley, secure that piece off shit."
A younger man jumped to obey. "Hoo-Rah!"
Brad Foster gave no resistance as his hands were cuffed behind his back. His whole torso was now sore and would feel worse in a few hours.
"Beyond stupid, Foster." Tessa commented. "Gentlemen, remove him from the building."
"Queen Tessa. He was taking pictures in there. Pictures of the files." Zeke informed her.
Barkley searched him, pulled out the camera and looked through its memory then said. "Personnel files Queen Tessa. Everybody's."
"Remove the card and give it to Captain Dave when he arrives. Destroy the camera." Tessa instructed now standing face to face with the private investigator.
A crunch was heard next. Brad closed his eyes and waited for whatever hits were going to come. Better to just go ahead and let it happen than try to fight back against her, provoking the men surrounding her to beat him to death. He knew without a doubt they would and not give it a second thought.
"Take him to the front gates and hand him over to the Deputies when they arrive." Tessa said looking at him. "I've saved you from my guards this time, Foster. It won't happen again should you prove too stupid to learn from this. Go. Mister Malone, that man does NOT return."
Roughly, they turned him and began to march him out, but stopped when Tessa added.
"When you talk to Joe Nably, tell him I said; 'This stops now, I won't tell him again'." Tessa said firmly then looked to the former-Marine.
Zeke nodded then ordered. "Martell, Cranston, Dermot, Holland. Escort Queen Tessa home when she's ready. The rest, with me. Move Out."
Throughout the entire walk to the front gate, Zeke spared no detail as to what he intended to do to Foster if he dared to come back. At the gates, two Deputies waited with their patrol units. One took Foster into custody, returning the guard's handcuffs then Mirandizing Foster. As they were driving away, Foster finally passed out.
Dave knocked then entered Tessa's office. "Busy night."
"I'd say so." Tessa replied, sitting at her desk in her gown, the tiara sitting on the corner of the desk.
Dave sat down and sighed. "Foster will be released from the hospital sometime tomorrow. Malone beat the ever loving dog shit out of him."
Tessa sat back in her chair. "Had I not been there, I don't think he would have stopped."
"You're probably the only one that could have stopped him. Zeke owes you everything, he'll obey you in all things." Dave said very clearly.
Tessa's face grew stern. "Wrong Captain. Mister Malone owes me NOTHING. I saw a man needing only the chance. I gave that chance, nothing more. All he is now, is of his own making. As he should be! Mister Malone is his own man and I, for one, will have it no other way! He owes me NOTHING."
"That's not true!" Zeke said from the doorway with five members of Security behind him.
Before anyone could object he strode to Tessa's desk then stood at Attention.
"I was worthless when you found me. A stray dog hunkered under your trailer, starving, sick and cold. You brought me out. Treated me like a man again and gave me a chance when nobody else would. You got me cleaned up, fed, taken care of and put me to work. You truly are a Queen and I'll follow you anywhere, carry out any order!" Zeke declared and saluted. "Even when you wanted me to take you to."
Tessa bolted to her feet in fury. "MISTER MALONE!"
Zeke went silent, as had everyone else in the room. Even Dave was surprised. No one had ever seen Tessa actually angry with anyone, much less Zeke. She looked imperious as she faced down the former-Marine.
"My private business is EXACTLY that. Discuss it and I will have you removed, MISTER Malone. IS that UNDERSTOOD?" Tessa growled.
Zeke visibly flinched. "AYE AYE, Queen Tessa!"
Tessa walked around her desk and stood facing him. "I gave you a chance. Nothing more, nothing less. Who and what you are now, is all of YOUR OWN making. I'll hear NO argument to that. You have worked for and earned ALL that you have. Including the respect of everyone in the park. Do NOT jeopardize that now, with such display. I won't stand for it!"
"Gave me back pride, as a man and a Marine." Zeke quietly reminded her.
Tessa shook her head as her voice calmed. "I did no such thing. That was always with you Mister Malone, you merely forgot. Say no more on this. You have my gratitude for protecting us, my trust has been well founded. You may go and sleep well, Mister Malone."
Zeke went down on one knee, took Tessa's hand and kissed it. "Yes My Queen."
With that he rose and left. The members of Security that had been with him were shocked to say the least. They had been working with Zeke for quite some time, never had they seen him act or speak in such manner. They all saluted as well then left.
Dave arched an eyebrow. "For a second there, I thought you were going either slap or fire him."
Tessa sat back down behind her desk. "I would do neither. It would be cruel."
"What about Foster and this Joe Nably ass-hat?" Dave asked.
Tessa picked up a single page. "Trent is working on that now. I have something else for you to do."
Dave took the page when she held it out. "What's this?"
"Some group in Massachusetts. It's claimed they are big LGBT supporters, with stress on transgender persons. Find out. If they are, then we'll lend support and even propose an intern program next summer." Tessa said.
Dave looked at the page. "Finn Foundation. Ok. I'll check them out, starting with John and Jaimie Finn, since it looks like they are the major players."
Tessa said, going back to her paperwork. "Use every means at your command to find out if they are as good as they say they are. Carry on, My Captain."
"By your command, My Queen." Dave replied with a bow and left.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 16 of
VentureRealm Park |
The foiled kidnapping attempt garnered much attention. Of course, the local media wanted interviews and began hounding the park's Hospitality department. The Public Relations team worked in that department. Two specialized in social media, two in communications(television and radio), one in print media(newspapers and magazines) and the Head of the P.R. team had taken modeling and acting classes as well as Public Relations. The fact that she was local, and a lesbian, was a bonus.
On the advice of the P.R. team and under close scrutiny of Trent, VentureRealm hosted a press conference. Tessa and Dave would be interviewed. At the appointed time, both local and some national Press were allowed into a conference room and set up. Ten minutes later, Emily returned and nodded to begin.
When the camera lights came on, Emily smiled and spoke into the microphones. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I'm Emily Rosenthal of the Public Relations team here at VentureRealm Park. I do regret that we are limited in time, so please be considerate of each other. I now present Queen Tessa of VentureRealm. With her is Captain Dave Wells."
Emily curtsied then moved back and to the side as Tessa nodded to her then faced the Press Pit.
"Good morning and welcome to VentureRealm. It is my understanding that you are all here to inquire about a recent event here. That event was the attempted abduction of a child. As this is an ongoing investigation by the local and state authorities, we are not at liberty to discuss specifics. We can discuss some general points. Let us begin." Tessa stated then pointed to a man on the far right.
The man, from the local newspaper, stood up. "Bayleston Times, Queen Tessa. Some say the Security here at the park is rather extensive. Is that due to the fact that so many children are here?"
"Children hold the greatest of treasures; dreams. By working diligently to ensure their safety is paramount, we guard that treasure." Tessa replied then pointed to the far left.
A woman stood up. "Fox News. Is it true that the kidnappers targetted a little boy for the sex trade?"
Tessa gave her a stern look. "I see Fox News has difficulty understanding what they have been told already. You may sit down until you do understand."
Another woman was indicated and stood up. "USAToday, uh, Queen Tessa. You did say that safety is paramount here. Could you eleborate on that please?"
Tessa nodded to Dave, who stepped forward. "VentureRealm has a multi-tier system for safety and security. This system utilizes both electronic and personnel to detect situations of distress. Our personnel are stationed at optimum placement for immediate deployment, along with roving units for rapid response, in the event of a guest becoming distressed."
The manner of Dave's response clued them all in that they were now dealing with a military officer that handled things personally.
A man in the center stood next. "L.A. Times. Judging by your previous response, would it be a fair assumption that certain military aspects are being used here?"
Tessa answered this time. "VentureRealm puts high priority on the hiring of Veterans. The women and men formerly of our Armed Forces still have so much to offer and wish to serve, but in a way more personable. I encourage this and have welcomed them with open arms. Also on our Security force here are former members of the Law Enforcement communities. Both aspects bring abilities to the table that can and do work in conjuction to ensure the wellbeing of our guests. Not just some mere security contingent, but Guardians of the greatest treasures. They carry themselves as Royal Knights."
Another woman stood up. "CBS News, Queen Tessa. What types of prior military personnel do you have here?"
"Captain." Tessa redirected.
Dave stood forward again. "We have members from all branches here and various specialties. Many are veterans of the field, both Afghanistan and Iraq. They all served with honor, fully discharged and able to serve here. Some are currently active in National Guard and Reserve units, VentureRealm fully supports those that still serve in those capacities and make every accomodation for that continued service."
"ABC News, Captain." A woman stated as she stood up. "Do these prior military personnel have some kind of specialized training that makes them suited to this field?"
Dave nodded. "In a way, they do. So many of our personnel have served overseas in the combat theater, which of course is a hot temperature environment, that they have become trained to work in those conditions. They know and recognize the hazards of such exposure. Heat-related injury is very common for places such as this. As we have served in heated conditions, we are vigilant to look for the signs that our guests may become distressed from that. Our rapid medical response teams stay on deployment footing to treat the guests. Security seeing the beginning onset of heat-injury can advise a course of action and direct to a suitable area to abate the progression and begin recovery so that the guests can continue their visit safely and comfortably."
A man in the back stood up when he was pointed at. "MSNBC. You mentioned some kind of Medical teams. Could you elaborate on that?"
"Certainly. The park has two full-time Registered Nurses in our Medical Station. Each area of the park has a team of a Paramedic and an EMT on station at all times. These Rapid Medical Teams are led by a prior-serviceman. He is formerly of the Navy. A Special Amphibious Reconnaissance Corpsmen, or SARC, as they are called. This gentleman served overseas within elite Marine Reconnaissance and Naval SEAL teams, providing medical assistance during combat operations. His joy is looking after the wellbeing of others and is happiest knowing that all under his care are in fine health. All of them are a pleasure have here." Tessa said with pride then pointed to a woman beside the man.
The woman stood up. "Miami Herald, Queen Tessa. Compared to other places, all that seems to be rather extreme. Isn't it?"
"Not in the slightest. We have a responsibility to ensure our guests' safety. Be it from the environment or from elements that wish to take advantage of those here to enjoy the hospitality. This responsibilty is taken very seriously and it is our focus. A circle, if you will." Tessa explained and even gestured. "We can not be satisfied with our efforts to entertain, if they can not enjoy them. They can not enjoy, if they are distracted by suffering of some sort. If they are suffering, we can not entertain them. It all falls back on itself. Our measures may seem extreme, but that is because the situation warrants that. Would you not agree?"
Several gave a chuckle. Tessa had eloquently talked in a circle and it had not only been illustrative, it had been correct.
"Touche, Queen Tessa." The woman sat down smiling.
A man stood up over to the side. "New York Times. Abduction of children is a constant threat, everywhere. What measures does VentureRealm take to prevent this from happening?"
Dave smirked. The man was slicker than Fox News. "We have multiple elements that firstly, discourage the attempt. However, there are some who will be determined. Those elements will prevent their success. VentureRealm IS on the cutting edge for the utilization of equipment, personnel and tactics to protect the children here. As to details, I'm afraid that is as far as we are willing to discuss. Details are kept confidential to maintain effectiveness. Wouldn't want those nefarious types to know all the ways we foil them, would we?"
Everyone chuckled, he had answered, but not entirely.
"Quite the point there, Captain." The newspaperman chuckled and sat down.
Tessa nodded to Emily, who stepped up to the microphones. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've run our time. Thank you all for coming. There are information packets on the table on your way out. Good day and thank you."
The press began to collect the packets as their crews gathered up equipment while Tessa and Dave waved and left. A six person Security detail stood by to watch them leave.
The Fox News woman went up to one and turned on her digital recorder. "The owner and head of security didn't tell us alot. What did happen during the kidnapping recently?"
Jimmy Sloan wanted to roll his eyes, but kept a poker-face. "VentureRealm is not at liberty to comment about such incident, all inquiries related are to be submitted to the Sheriff's office and District Attorney."
"Sounds like cop-talk." The woman remarked with disgust.
Jimmy just smirked. "Drive safely, don't forget to buckle-up."
She now knew that he was or had been a cop of some kind and wouldn't get anywhere.
"You're a parent, wouldn't you want to know what was going on with potential child predators?" The reporter asked the woman beside Jimmy.
"Local authorities will be able to answer questions at an appropriate time." Former DEA Agent Anna Calderone replied blandly, knowing it would simply aggravate the woman more.
In disgust she turned and left. Had she turned around, she would have seen all six smiling at her failure. In fact, all six members were former law enforcement and had been hand-picked to be at the press conference. None of the press had particularly paid much attention when a Dog-handler had passed them on their way in. They had no idea that the Handler and dog were both prior military with Army EOD.
Princess Michelle was between shows and leading a group of children. Casually she came to a stop and smiled to the old Native American man with a young Native American woman beside him.
"Good afternoon Elder StormDawn, Miss JumpingDoe. We would like to visit and learn about the old ways, may we?" Michelle asked.
Linda JumpingDoe translated the Elder's words. "Please do Princess. Knowledge should always be given to the young."
As if an invisible gate lifted, Michelle and the group walked forward. Actually they simply stepped over what looked like a mosiac brick placement in the pathway. There were many designs of Native American theme in the mosiac. The children, followed by their parents and sitters, eagerly taken in the sights of tribal works.
Several other tribal ladies took turns explaining the workings of the craftsworkers. Finally the children were directed to the performance area. The Elder told the story, translated by Linda, behind the dance performed by younger men in full costume accompanied by drummers that sang as well.
At the end of the dance, they all clapped and Michelle smiled. "Wonderful! I'm afraid I have to go back to my Saloon now. Please enjoy yourselves."
Everyone smiled as the Princess of WildForest elegantly turned and left.
Joe Nably was barely controlling his rage. Foster had emailed a report. He had been released from the County Correctional Center after paying a fine. Foster having failed at getting any usable information out and couldn't remember any he had seen.
Nably looked around at the park's website. He saw the Native American feature and thought about it. An idea hit him. Quickly he searched for groups opposed to Native Americans. A whole slew came up. With a cruel smile, Nably sent the more aggressive sounding group a message. They were claiming to be Christian-based, denouncing Native American cultural practices as demonic and so on.
"Let's see how they like some negative Press!" Joe Nably sneered.
He went back to previous reports from Foster. A small note finally stood out. Several cast members were reputed to be gay or lesbian. That was also something he may be able to use. The problem was that it wasn't confirmed. He needed that.
Joe dialed the number. "Foster. Start going to the gay bar there. Find out if any of the fags or dykes hanging out there work in that park! Don't screw up again!"
It had been a week since the Press conference and things seemed to be quiet. Suddenly people began to rush around in WildForest then held up signs that they had concealed then put together. They formed a line in front of the Dancers and Drummers to block the view.
"THESE DISPLAYS ARE THE WORKS OF THE DEVIL! HURRY TO ESCAPE! DON'T BE TRICKED! ALL GOD-FEARING RIGHTEOUS WHITE PEOPLE SHOULD OPPOSE THIS!" A man yelled over a small megaphone.
Members of Security came up, but stopped at a distance.
"People. You'll have to stop this and leave immediately." One of the Security members instructed.
The man with a megaphone got in his face with it. "WE ARE WHITE AND RIGHT! YOU CAN'T MAKE US LEAVE!"
"I don't have to." The Security member smiled. "He will."
"You're all under arrest." A middle aged man with short-cropped hair wearing jeans, western shirt and boots announced.
Megaphone man sneered. "You can't arrest us!"
A badge was flashed. "Wrong. I'm Tribal Police. You're on Tribal Land. I can arrest or shoot you. Security Men, I give you permission to enter to secure these people and await Federal Agents to them take into custody."
"Yes Sir!" One replied then led the others across that ornate line.
Within seconds, all the protestors were cuffed.
"Never mess around on Reservation Land. We take it personally." The Tribal Officer growled in the leader's face.
An hour later, a State Police bus arrived and all the protestors were loaded onto it. The Troop Commander was given a disk.
"That video will show that they were on Tribal Land, disrupting cultural display. I've already notified the State Attorney General and Bureau of Indian Affairs." The Tribal Officer informed him.
Megaphone man snarled. "Damn Indians!"
One of State Troopers looked down at him. "Boy; you're in a heap of trouble. Everybody knows you don't go making trouble on a Reservation."
What reporters had been tipped off by the group to be there were just as shocked as the protest group.
"Excuse me." One of the reporters asked the Tribal Officer. "Is VentureRealm Park a Reservation?"
The Officer shook his head. "Not the entire Park. Just a specific area within it. I'm Tribal Police Chief Dan Ironshirt."
"I'm still confused Chief Ironshirt. Are you saying that the protest was illegal?" The Report asked.
Dan nodded. "Very much so. Things work very different on Reservations. Even if they filed with the county, it means nothing. They have to appeal to the Council, which can deny them. The rest of the Park is owned and controlled by Queen Tessa. She donated a specific area to a Council of Nations. Those Nations include the Dakota, Pueblo, Cherokee and Navajo. We're protected by treaty with the United States Government. A formal treaty was offered by Queen Tessa to the four Nations. Long story short; those people are facing Federal Charges. Serious Federal Charges."
The reporter turned back to the camera and made her closing statement, doing her best to conceal her own surprise at the revelation.
Bureau of Indian Affairs immediately took the group to trial a week later. It was literally a 'turkey shoot'. The prosecution had every duck that could be thought of in a row and quacking in formation. Even a few things nobody had ever thought of before was thrown in. When the actual validity of a certain area of the park being a Reservation came up, Tessa was called to the stand by the Defense.
The Defense attorney gave a smug look. "Miss Frost, please clarify this false allegation that an area of your amusement park is, in any way, a Reservation."
He thought he had been somewhat entertaining, by smiling to the Gallery and throwing air quotes during the word Reservation.
"Not a problem. An area in the section WildForest had been surveyed then marked off and donated to a council of Tribal Nations by legal treaty between Myself and those Nations. This has been recognized and approved by the United States' Department of Interior's Bureau of Indian Affairs. This went into effect shortly after the park opened. The Prosecution has copies of those documents, already submitted into evidence. I have copies as well, with me." Tessa replied then smiled with malevolence. "Wanna see?"
Every Native American in the gallery smiled as well. Queen Tessa Frost had given her word, put it on paper and wasn't about to go back on it. Some were thinking that she might even be inclined to ask the Officials to step aside simply so she could have the pleasure of taking on the opposition all by herself. It was obvious that she had been provoked and was now itching for a fight. The self-made Queen wanted to make an example that would be remembered.
Tessa went a step further and addressed the court while still on the stand. "I invited representatives of Native American tribes to my park. Their culture is amazing and much can be learned from it. I have done much to ensure that they are respected and protected. Not just because it's the right thing to do; I feel a kinship to them. I, too, have been victimized by so-called Morality Groups. I was abused by them as a child, but held onto myself. I will do what is correct in the interest of good people. Including the total destruction of groups like the one you represent. On the record; don't ever try to pick a fight with me or those within my realm. I'll show no mercy."
The last part had been issued dripping with venom along with her gaze going to a point in the gallery then back to the Defense Attorney. He knew that she wasn't talking to just him or his clients alone. There was someone else, in the courtroom, that she meant it for as well.
"No further questions." He said.
Tessa was dismissed. Court went into recess for two hours, during which there was a closed door meeting. Court reconvened just before close of day and the case was settled with a guilty verdict. The fastest win for a case involving Native Americans and Hate groups. Not only was there a heavy fine, there was also a settlement to be paid to the Council of Tribes. The Judge Ordered each individual of the group never to return to the area.
Joe Nably walked angrily out of the courthouse. He knew that Tessa Frost's last statement had been directed at him personally. Fairly obvious, as she had locked eyes with him. He was so angry that he almost ran directly into the focus of his anger. He stopped short and was face to face with Tessa Frost herself, flanked by a ten-member Security escort and two men in suits.
Reporters had been hoping to interview her, but saw that she and her escorts looking like they were preparing for a confrontation. Patience was rewarded within seconds.
"Joseph Nably." Tessa glared at him.
"Think this'll stop me?" Nably sneered. "I know your secret. Drag Queen."
Several of the Security made to move, but Tessa simply held up a hand and they stopped.
"I am not now, nor ever been, a Drag Queen Mister Nably. The fact that I'm transgender was never a secret. Everybody knows. My guards are not here to protect me from you. They are here to dissuade me to not tear you to ribbons right here on the steps. You're scum Nably. This is your final chance." Tessa said flatly.
Trent Valens nodded to someone behind Nably. He turned and saw a Marshal.
"Joseph Nably. You are hereby Served." The Marshal informed him then put a paper in his hand.
Trent smirked. "The State Police conducted an investigation into your Private Investigator. His license has been pulled. That is an Injunction against you. Cease and Desist any and all further attempts to disrupt the operations of the park and stalking of its employees. The Hate Group showed the email that got their attention. It got the Judge's attention too. Followed by ours. It came from you."
"He didn't learn before that it's not good to get our attention." One of the Security remarked.
Dave called him down. "Secure that."
"Hoo-Ahh, Captain." The Security-man replied at Attention then resumed Parade Rest as the others.
Joe Nably leaned closer. "Nobody tells me 'No'. I always get what I want!"
"You won't get VentureRealm. Me, and my people, aren't going anywhere. We're here. To. STAY." Tessa said firmly.
Trent smiled. "In those documents are also restraining orders. You are not allowed within 500 meters of the park or Tessa. That means you have to leave or be arrested."
Nably looked at the papers finally and saw it. He swore and left.
The reporters finally pounced.
"Is it true? What he said." One reporter asked and pushed her mic forward.
Tessa's switched immediately flipped. In her most regal manner, she addressed the media. "Joseph Nably has set his sights on VentureRealm Park for reasons we do not know. I stand in the way of his plans, whatever they are. I purchased the property nobody wanted. No one had the courage to do anything with it. I made my dream come true. Greedy, unscrupulous people using underhanded tactics will not harm that. Neither myself, nor the people that work for me owe anyone. We have earned for ourselves. We are here to STAY."
Another reporter tried a different approach. "You said that you are transgender. Is that official?"
"I am and it is. My Transitional Process has been by the numbers, following the medically approved guidelines. No short cuts, nothing below standard. Everything above board. I am the premier employer of LGBT and Veterans. Guests can rest assured that they are looked after by the best this country has. Each and every member of cast and staff have been thoroughly vetted and I have gathered only the best! There will be absolutely no slandering or trash tabloid portrayal. The media will maintain true Journalistic Standards or face the harshest of realities." Tessa warned then said. "We're done here."
All members of Security came to Attention loudly then followed, closing ranks protectively in diamond formation around Tessa, Dave and Trent. The effect was more impressive than anything everyone on the Courthouse steps had seen and respectfully made way. Queen Tessa and her guards were not a group anyone wanted to challenge.
Tessa had finally given in recently and bought a more comfortable vehicle for going out and about, a Lincoln Navigator. Trent sat in the back with Tessa while Dave rode shotgun. A sedan holding four members each had the luxury SUV between them.
"You do know that you're going to be all over the papers and news, right?" Trent asked.
Tessa casually flipped through a file of papers she had brought along to go over. "Make the call Captain."
"Yes Ma'am." Dave nodded then brought his phone. When the call connected he spoke briefly. "Nably called Tessa a drag queen on camera, Emily. Go FULL saturation. Out."
Trent shook his head. "Of course. You were expecting it."
Dave looked back. "Emily came up with 6 different plans to combat the outting of all the transgender cast, including Queen Tessa. Before any of the Media broadcast anything, the truth will be all over them. Hell, Emily would send out pigeons with notes if she had them."
"Remember Trent, Drag Queens are parody performers. The only parodies are a set of songs sung by three straight guys. No drag queen acts in VentureRealm at all. If a media person refers to any of my performers as Drag Queens, we can sue. Fun, huh?" Tessa smirked. "The correct information is being sent out in a manner that they can't deny receiving. They go with Drag Queen, they're screwed for biased Journalism."
Trent chuckled. "Drop me off at my office. I better start drafting some lawsuits."
"Dave." Tessa prompted.
"Onward!" Dave told the driver who merely chuckled.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 17 of
VentureRealm Park |
The Friday morning's newspaper had bold headlines. The morning news shows led with similar by-lines. Even social media was running, but with more blunt wording; Hate-group suffers Native Americans' warpath! Essentially the articles and commentaries highlighted the fact that an area of WildForest was actually a combined Nations Reservation, offered by personal treaty between Tessa and representatives of those four Nations while being protected by previous treaty agreements between Native American Nations and the U.S. Government's Department of Interior. Some outlets received anonymous releases suggesting that the Hate Group had been duped by a Real Estate developer, reputed to have used similar strong arm tactics to devalue and acquire properties in the past.
One television reporter commented. "It's been implied that a person has tried to slander the owner of VentureRealm Park. Though she admits freely to being transgender, following approved guidelines for transition, Tessa Frost outright denies any implication of Drag Queen performances of any kind, Miles."
"That she does Cathy. I was very surprised to find out that A Drag Queen is actually a parody performance artist, lip-syncing to songs. Tessa is quoted to say 'that she regrets she, herself, is not a performer of any kind. More that when she is away from her office duties, she takes on a Hospitality role. Interacting with the guests, pointing out features and attractions, in general; being a guide. Her primary role is the owner and chief administrator of the park'." Miles added.
Cathy nodded. "Well with all the effort that's been put forth to ensure the safety and well-being of the park's guests, it's fairly easy to understand why she's called Queen Tessa. After the break we'll check in with Lori over in the weather center."
Tessa clicked off the television in her office with a smirk of satisfaction. Emily on the P.R. team had reached full saturation with an hour of Dave's call. It had been a full-on blitz attack. Mass emailings, faxed statements and social media postings that went viral. Strategically worded disclosure had cut off Nably's knee-jerk accusation dead cold. Tessa had even managed to get live call-in interviews with a select core of on-air personalities. Even two that were openly anti-LGBT, featured her. Unfortunately for them, Tessa bested their obnoxious diatribe with cold statements of logic. It had the effect she wanted, infuriating them and reducing them to frothing and impulsive responses.
She had followed Dave's strategy to the letter and he had not been wrong. The former Intelligence officer had been dead-on as to what words and phrases to use to hammer away at the ego-driven, ignorant, hate-mongering hosts. The one that purported to have vast evidence that transgenderism was a form of brianwashing got slammed the hardest. Tessa knew his material better than he did and it's verified detractions. She then challenged him to come up with a stronger argument and shot that down as well.
Tessa's coup de-grace came when she said flatly. "I find it beyond pathetic when people of so-called high morals and family values realize that praying and various other pleas to desparately make a member of their family more acceptable to their own brainwashing have no effect and resort to beatings and isolated incarceration to force somebody to submit to superstition that has NO basis in reality. Transgender peoples have been around far longer than that pack of fairy tales they call a religion. We aren't leaving. We won't submit. We are, and always have been, here. That nonsense was tried on me. It had all the effectiveness of throwing bricks into the Grand Canyon. By-the-way, how is your fiance doing? This is the third surgery on her face now, isn't it? How did that last breast augmentation go? You had her go up two cup sizes, right? Are you still introducing her as your 'Fix'er upper'? You weren't happy with her 'as God intended and in His own image'? Poor woman, she's going to suffer self-esteem problems. Not being 'pretty enough' for you."
The line went dead immediately, making Tessa smile in satisfaction. "Gotcha."
Elaine Oberline had been tipped off about the call-in interviews and listened to them. In no time at all, Tessa had her howling with laughter. She quickly drafted a letter and sent it to the Editor of the local newspaper then called him to ask that it run immediately. She wanted it known that she had always been supportive to the local LGBT community, proprosing and implementing city ordinances that met or surpassed the state laws for fair treament. Her only regret, that she still felt there could be more done. LGBT peoples in Bayleston were friends and family after all, therefore should not be snubbed or forgotten. The Editor told her that she just barely made it and the letter would be printed in the morning paper.
Michelle joined Nicole and Danica at the table for breakfast. Nicole was giggling.
"Ok. What's going on?" Michelle asked.
Nicole smiled. "Queen Tessa get them loudmouth good yeah!"
"She's talking about those hater-talk-show guys last night." Danica explained.
Michelle frowned. "I was catching up with friends back home. So what'd I miss?"
"Loud fool, he get slam left 'n right." Nicole laughed. "Big mouth think he know stuff, Queen Tessa know better and hit harder and harder each time. Every time he throw somethin' out, she slap him right back with why no good."
Danica shook her head. "It was both funny as all get-out and appalling. The guy had to have been foaming at the mouth by the time Queen Tessa was done with him. That guy threw the 'Nature-Nurture' bit at her."
"Oh Hell." Michelle winced.
Nicole sighed. "I get it don't mean nothin'. I just don't get why it come up."
Michelle explained. "A long time ago twin boys were born. Well during circumsism, one of the baby boys was almost castrated. So the doctors feed the parents a line of crap and call in this old psychiatrist. Now this guy was more of a researcher, but more importantly, he wanted to be a BIG name. He was trying to pass off this b.s. hypothesis that if you start from the beginning, you can raise the child to turn out the way you want. Specifically, if you raise the boy as a girl, he will be."
"Didn't work. Kid didn't even get into his teens and rebelled. He lives as a male. It all came out in the wash. Total failure. Unfortunately, that quack went around proclaiming success. People want to believe, because it's more palatable than having a transgender in the family." Danica clarified.
Nicole had been listening intently. "Brainwash? This guy say; you babe no the way you want, just brainwash?"
"Yep. Pretty much." Danica and Michelle replied in tandem.
Nicole looked angry. "Where this guy?"
"If he's lucky; an unmarked grave. Finish up sister, we're princesses." Michelle remarked.
Quickly, Nicole finished her breakfast and the three princesses began heading toward the park to get ready for the day.
Joe Nably's secretary walked in and found Nably sitting behind his desk. His personal office was trashed. Knowing he had done it all himself, she went to her desk without a word and began her day.
"Lynn." Joe called from the doorway. "Find me a church group. One that hates queers and freaks."
Lynn turned around. "Mister Nably. What are you hoping to accomplish?"
"I want that park! I want that freak run out!" Joe hissed.
Lynn stood and picked up her purse. "Mister Nably, you've paid me fairly decently. Also, you've never tried to make a pass. that's the only good things I can say. That woman, and yes, that's what she is; will never sell. You will not run her out. If you continue to try, you will find yourself so deep in legal trouble, no one will help you. Or worse, you're going to find yourself sued into a bankruptcy you'll never recover. If you will not let it go, I have to leave."
"Where do you get off throwing ultimatums at me?" Nably snarled.
Lynn glared. "I have a son and daughter, both under ten. If you stay on this, you'll go down. Nobody will hire me after that."
"What makes you think anybody will if you walk now?" Nably hedged.
Lynn leaned in close. "The recordings I have of over twenty illegally acquired properties. Those are with somebody I trust, you'll never know who, and will take them directly to the State Attorney General, with copies also going to the major media. Oh yeah, and I'll sue. For everything."
Nably glared at her. "Get! Out!"
"Reference. And my check." Lynn said coldly.
He went back into his office and came back a couple of minutes later and tried to throw it at her.
"You'll get the damned reference. Now get out!" Nably growled, of all people, he knew she wasn't bluffing.
Lynn picked up the check, glanced at it then tucked it into her purse and set a keyring on the desk. "Goodbye."
After the door closed behind her, Joe Nably grabbed the cup of pens and flung it at the door. "BITCH!"
Tessa looked up from her paperwork to the knock at her office door.
Zeke walked in and stopped in front of her desk then saluted. "I spoke and acted without thinking the other day. I apologize. It won't happen again."
"Go close the door Mister Malone then sit down." Tessa said.
Zeke immediately obeyed.
Tessa looked at him intently. "Apology accepted, Mister Malone. However, do not ever reveal any personal business of mine you may be privy to. Do not ever argue this; the only thing I ever gave you, was a chance to prove yourself. All that you have gained since then, is of your own doing. You have the respect of everyone working here and the construction crew. You earned that for yourself. You have much to be proud of, Mister Malone."
Zeke nodded. "Yes Queen Tessa."
"Mister Malone. So far things have been good for us here. I believe that is going to change. I feel we are going to have serious problems." Tessa said.
Zeke frowned. "If you mean that private investigator, he won't be back."
Tessa shook her head. "I'm referring to the man he was working for. That man is greedy and underhanded. He isn't done yet, Mister Malone. He will come after the park and us again. Particularly me. I own the park, so I stand in his way. He wants to destroy me, everything I've built and all I stand for, Mister Malone."
"Not going to happen, Queen Tessa. He'll have to come over all our dead bodies to do that. He's going to need all of North Korea to even think of that." Zeke said firmly.
Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Well, since we lack a cuisine appropriate to distract them with; let's sincerely hope it doesn't come to that."
Zeke smirked. "You could always have Casey Malorian yodel them into surrender."
Tessa laughed. "They would definitely attack if he did that! On sheer principle alone!"
Zeke laughed.
"Alright Mister Malone, get going. Sleep well." Tessa waved him to go.
Zeke stood and saluted. "Queen Tessa."
Tessa was still chuckling as the former Marine left.
Dave Wells answered his phone. "Wells."
"A friend said you needed help, Captain Wells." A feminine voice stated. "Major Morehouse should ring the bell."
Dave chuckled. "Ah. And that would make you Lieutenant Westin. So very nice to make your acquaintance. Call me Dave."
"Michelle, Dave. How can a little Financial Officer be of service?" Michelle Westin asked.
Dave got serious. "One: Joseph Nably. I believe he is on your radar."
"He is. If word is right, he's out to get your current employer. What's up?" Michelle asked.
Dave said bluntly. "He's too brave. I think he's been purchasing political protection. I know he has a pitbull for an attorney, but that's not enough. He's got people making things happen. I'd like to know who. Probably somebody local here."
"Bayleston, right?" Michelle asked, more to herself than him. "He made a several campaign contributions over the years to a Conway, Ralph."
Dave began looking through some files on his computer then found it. "Conway. City Councilman. He does a lot of work in Zoning. Mostly commercial."
Michelle didn't sound surprised. "Nothing new then."
"It is to me. Thank you Lieutenant, much appreciated. I owe you." Dave remarked.
Michelle disregarded it. "That was nothing. If you get anything, let me know. The AG's office has been after him for a while, but we can't get anything that'll stick. Take care, Sir."
Dave hung up then headed out. He was heading into town. Sitting on a bench outside the local VFW was who he wanted to see.
"Mornin' Top." Dave greeted and handed over a go-cup of coffee.
The old man took the coffee in his left hand and tossed the handful of bread crumbs in his right on the ground for the birds hopping around and chirping.
"What's got you out 'n about? Ain't you supposed to be watching over the folks at the park?" The old man asked after taking a sip of the coffee.
Dave grinned. "I could do with some Intel, Top."
"Your troops had to love you, somebody schooled you well." The old First Sergeant chuckled. "Ask me questions."
"Ralph Conway." Dave replied.
Top grunted in disgust. "Hookers on corners deserve more respect. At least they're honest. He's about as crooked as they come Captain. Give him money and he'll do whatever you want."
"I see. What happened during the last election?" Dave asked.
Top adjusted his hat. "Damnedest thing. Everybody thought it was all over, but the shouting a month away. Out of nowhere, be bounces back. TV ads, radio, heard he was all over the computer stuff too. then the week before he comes up with young Ed had a DUI and wreck a while back. That slammed the door shut. Won for the fourth time."
"Let me guess. By a landslide?" Dave commented.
Top nodded. "It was worse than the Tet."
Dave shook his head. "That's just disappointing."
"To be honest, I'm surprised the park got built." Top remarked.
That surprised Dave. "Why's that?"
"Well, anytime somebody showed any kind of interest in the place, Ralph claymored the advance. Don't know how your boss-lady got around him." Top stated.
Dave shrugged. "The only person she talked to about it was the agency selling the place."
Top looked over. "That's why. She didn't ask around. See, people always went through the City to ask about the place. First one they saw, was Ralph. About seven years ago, some big money man from out west came. The guy got permission to go inside, to look around, he got sprayed by a skunk. Word has it, that weren't no accident or chance."
"You mean he had somebody in there wrangling a skunk to intentionally spray the guy so he'd run off?" Dave asked.
Top shrugged. "Pretty much. There is a guy here in town that has a trained skunk. He can handle it without getting sprayed. Says he can get it to spray on command, too. He's about an odd individual. Definitely a few rounds short of a full magazine."
"Is Conway visibly connected to a guh name Joe Nably?" Dave asked.
Top thought about it then nodded. "Believe so. There was a big parcel on the other side of town, sat for a long time then Ralph rezones it and it got bought. Now that we're talking about it, more than one place got rezoned then sold. Places that nothing was going on with then they got rezoned for commercial and a week later, sold signs went up. Can't be no coincidence."
"Top, a coincidence is out on a sly date and running into your other's sibling, doing the same thing." Dave said.
The old man laughed hard then shook his head. "That's a good one! Yeah, that'd actually be a coincidence. Or Murphy's Law!"
"Thanks Top. Always good talking." Dave said.
Ralph Conway had been surprised when the call came. Now he was walking into the office of Tessa Frost. He was surprised to see two Security members posted outside her office. One knocked then let him in.
"I must say, I'd never have imagined a queen doing office work in full regalia." Conway oozed.
Tessa finished signing the paper then slipped it into a file and put it away. She gave him her full attention.
"Mister Conway. I'm glad you could find the time to come down." Tessa gave as a greeting. "I have quite a bit going on, so I'd like to simply get right to this."
Conway nodded. "I'm not one to beat around the bush, myself. Go ahead."
"What is Joe Nably's unhealthy obsession with my park?" Tessa asked point blank.
Ralph was truly taken by surprise. "I have no idea what or who you mean."
Tessa pulled over a folder, opened it to read off locations and dates then looked at him. "You rezoned and he bought within seventy-two hours then resold within four to five days. He also contributed to your campaign fund during the last election at the last minute. A rather sizable amount as well. Even I would find it very hard to forget somebody that dropped close to a hundred thousand dollars on me. No way in Hell would you not know nor be on good terms with them."
Conway could only sit there in silence. Tessa had him cold. She knew what he'd done, why and for whom.
"You've also run off any party interested in the park. I find it amusing that after all you did for him, the favor went to me." Tessa said flatly. "I'm guessing you were forcing devalue to the property then when it hit his mark, you'd rezone it and so he could grab it up. He makes a bundle and you get a piece, by way of campaign funds, consulting fees and get to stay in office another term."
Conway's eyes looked like they were about to pop out and bounce off the wall. Tessa's supposition was actually dead-center. He recovered quickly though.
"I made jobs possible." Conway retorted.
Tessa kept a neutral expression. "Not that many. Those companies brought in automated lines and relocated most of the personnel here to run them. All in all, less than three hundred new jobs. I brought on over seven hundred local employees. The companies increased revenue by only one percent. I increased revenue already by fifteen. Amateur hour was over when I came to town Mister Conway. Welcome to the big league, you're in deep shit."
Tessa looked down at her phone. "You can come in now."
The door opened, Captain Dave and Elaine Oberline came in followed by the Sheriff. The District Attorney was with them.
"They were listening in the conference room. Captain." Tessa said.
Dave handed over a folder. "This only took half an hour to assemble. All of it found in public records. His campaign contributors, the rezoning and property sales."
The D.A. flipped through the pages then glared at Conway. "Ralph, the only thing I find harder to believe than you doing this, was us not seeing the truth. Roy, take him into custody. Influence peddling, bribery."
The Sheriff waved him to stand up. "You're under arrest Ralph."
Conway was shocked and could only nod numbly after his rights were read. They stopped at the door when Tessa spoke again.
"Mister Conway. When you speak to Mister Nably, inform your owner the game is now over. Anymore foolishness and his ass will belong to me." Tessa said setting out more papers to go through then waved them out, never looking up.
Elaine commented to the D.A. "I think I'll thank my lucky stars tonight, that Queen Tessa liked my record."
"I think I'll do the same." District Attorney Howard O'Neil muttered.
Dave arched an eyebrow looking at Tessa. "I thought Trent would be here for that?"
"Since you gave me a certain report that I liked reading. I have him up in Massachusetts making a visit for me. He'll be back in a day or two." Tessa replied.
Dave nodded. "Finn Foundation."
Tessa nodded. "I'm sure they'll appreciate a contribution and find my offer appealing. While he's up there, he'll check on that girl in college. The one from Mississpi I personally sponsored. Grady's cousin's girl. The one he told us about that needed to get away from a crappy family. She seems to have been ambushed. Some individuals that should not be allowed around, drugged her and some other boy; to get her pregnant by him. The situation has been resolved and she's assured me that it's already been sorted out. The father and his fiance will adopt the baby from her. something about her not being able to have any children."
"I remember. She's going to intern during the summers. Yeah, Trent should check on her, make sure everybody is on the up and up. Well, back to work. As the chopper-jocks used to say; you're screwed when you've run out of Cyclic, Collective AND good ideas. Nably hasn't been neutralized yet." Dave turned and went out.
"Yet." Tessa muttered then hummed a tune and softly sang to herself. "Teardrop on the fire, fearless on my.....BREATH."
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 18 of
VentureRealm Park |
"Close the door." Joe Nably said as the last of the six men entered his office then picked up a stack of envelopes and held them up. "Five thousand now. Another five after."
One of the men took his envelope. "So what do you want done?"
"I want you guys to break into that park tomorrow night and make the rides breakdown. Do whatever you can. I want them to go haywire, fall apart, the works, Clay." Joe Nably.
Clay had been counting the money, but looked up. "And if people are on them when it happens?"
Nably snarled. "All the better! I want that place shut down!"
Clay nodded. "Alright. You just bought alot of accidents."
"Just get it done Clay. Make it a BIG show." Joe Nably said angrily as they left.
Alone again, he went back to his desk for his computer and pulled up the site for religious group against transgender people. He had found one that didn't just hate them alone, they would show up at anything important to lesbians, gays and transgenders. They were also known to have protests at war veterans' funerals and pretty much anything else that wasn't religious. A message, along with a donation, got their attention. The website now had an announcement that the protest-group would be at the park to block the gates at opening. Between them and the sabotage, the park should be ruined.
Ol' Mac was sweeping the sidewalk along Third street. He had been assigned two blocks before lunch and two blocks after lunch. The young man wearing a hat saying he was an Air force veteran and a T-shirt printed with Idle Hands had promised him lunch and money for the sweeping. He had seen the young man before, and several others like him. They traded money, meals and other things needed for work by the street people. Currently he was sweeping in front of A-1 Appliance and Electronics Repair. He stopped for a minute to look at the television in the window. A busy commercial was on and it caught his attention, even though he couldn't hear it.
Suddenly he all but banged his head against the glass to look close. "THAT'S HER!"
A worker saw this and came out, worried the streetman might break the glass to try stealing the television. He stopped when he heard him muttering to himself. "You're real. I really saw you. It wasn't the booze. You're really real."
"Um, could you ease back from the window?" The worker asked.
Ol' Mac pointed to the television. "She's real! I saw her!"
The worker walked over and looked at the screen. "That's the commercial for the park. VentureRealm. Who did you see?"
"She wore all white. She looks like an angel. THAT'S HER!" Ol' Mac pointed again.
The worker recognized her. "That's Queen Tessa. She owns the park."
Ol' Mac's eyes had filled with tears. "It was Christmas. I saw her. She gave us envelopes. Told me Merry Christmas. It wasn't the booze, I really saw her. I ain't gonna drink no more. She was real."
The owner of the shop had come out and heard most of the exchange. "Tim, go get a bottle of water. I think the heat's gettin' to him."
"Might be right, Mitch. Be right back." Tim nodded and went inside.
Mitch gently pressed on the streetman's shoulders to turn him. "Why don't you come over and sit down in the shade over here?"
"She's real." Ol' Mac repeated as he went over to a bench under an awning and sat down.
Tim returned and handed him an opened bottle of water. "He's talkin' about Queen Tessa over at the park."
Mitch nodded. "Yeah. She's real alright. Hired my nephew's girlfriend right out of High School to work over there. She's working in the kitchen of the Italian place over in SeaSide, learning under real chef. That ain't all Queen Tessa done. She donated to the schools' Home Ec classes, drama clubs and computer classes. Queen Tessa; she's very real ol' man. What are you doing out here though?"
"Mitch. Look, over there." Tim said and nodded to the broom leaning against the building. "That broom has one of them Idle Hands stickers on it."
Mitch went over and brought it back. "Are you sweeping the walk here for Idle Hands?"
Ol' Mac nodded. "They give us money for the sweepin'. Feed us too."
"That's good, but I think you might be working a little hard. Probably be best if you sat down a bit and drink that water. I'll be back in a minute." Mitch advised.
Ol' Mac drank the water while Mitch went inside and came back out a couple of minutes later with a damp cloth.
"Here. Wipe your face down with this and wrap it 'round your neck. It'll cool you down." Mitch said.
Ol' Mac did and began to feel relief from the heat. It was hot out, but only 92 degrees. Hot, but not unbearably.
Tim looked to the old man. "If you saw Queen Tessa outside the park, that's really something. She doesn't just up and wander around. No sir, if she's out and about, it's for a reason. She definitely doesn't go off by herself. Always a handful of people watching over her. Those princesses too."
"Park?" Ol' Mac asked, confused.
Mitch nodded. "Yeah. The Amusement Park. She bought and rebuilt it. It's called VentureRealm. It where that old broken down park was. All brand-spankin' new now."
A man walked up wearing a veterans hat and Idle Hands t-shirt. "Mac? You ok?"
Tim nodded. "He got a little excited, but he seems ok. Ok if he takes a break here in the shade?"
"Yeah. We don't want the folks pushing themselves. They get a small area to work in and they can take as long as they need. I'm Morris, I volunteer with Idle Hands and Street Table." Morris said offering handshakes.
Mitch shook hands. "Heard of you folks. Doin' good work around town."
"Getting better and better everyday. Lots of places are donating to us now. I'd name some, but they all agree to be anonymous. Let's just say that several restaurants contribute their buffets to Street Table after the line closes and other stores and business pitch in with various donations for Idle Hands. Good for the community." Morris said proudly. "Folks, like Ol' Mac here, trade us their time and we give something for the effort. Some money, supplies for them staying outdoors. The like."
Tim asked. "What's Mac doin' today?"
Morris pointed down the way. "We asked him to sweep the walk from Cherry to Birch. After that we gave him a plate lunch and thirty dollars. He said he could do more so we asked him to sweep from Birch to Sycamore. I can give him some more money for that and he'll get dinner by Street Table anyway."
"Four blocks. You say he got thirty and lunch for the first two, right?" Mitch asked.
Morris nodded. "Yep. We don't dog the folks willing to trade time."
Mitch took out his wallet and pulled two twenties. "Tell you what, I'll add forty to that right now. Mac, right? Mac, you come down here every monday morning and sweep this block first thing, I'll give you forty dollars and a full breakfast personally. Deal?"
Mac nodded. "I can do that. I have a time keeping days right, I forget sometimes."
"I'll make sure you come on the right day Mac." Morris said writing in a notebook.
Mac was given another bottle of water and told he could keep the towel. Morris told him there was no rush and to take his time sweeping. Mac nodded and after half an hour went back to it. However he was more focused on the discovery than sweeping. The Christmas angel was a real woman and they said her name was Queen Tessa. His mind was still fuzzy, but he did remember the envelope of money that bought him food and warmer clothes. While he ate dinner that night, his hands started to shake.
Tessa wandered about the park. Though the adults seemed a bit hesitant to approach, children flocked to her for hugs. With a smile she gave them hugs and said encouraging things to them. The four member Security escort stayed with her, but discreetly so the children wouldn't be intimidated. Tessa played a few games with some, winning prizes and handing them out. The kids enjoyed being with her, playing the games and even sat in the shade while she sat on a bench and told them a quick story.
When some of the cast from the Winter show happened by and began to distract the kids, Tessa slipped away and went back to her office for more mundane work. It seemed the big revelation of Tessa being transgender had only an hour or so of impact on the park. Most people did seem to understand that her main job was working in an office. They never thought to ask if she was the only one and nobody else was interested in informing about any others. Unfortunately for her, the rest of her work day required her to stay in the office. The God of unending paperwork decided it was the perfect day to lavish attention on her. By dinner time, Tessa was seriously considering having a stamp made for her signature. By closing time, she was definitely ready to change and go to her house for a long bubblebath.
Clay led his guys out of the bar, lighting a cigarette and blew out a long stream of smoke. "I been thinkin'."
"Yeah?" One of the men asked.
Clay spit to the side then took another drag off the cigarette. "Nably wants that park to fall apart so he can buy it, right?"
The group grunted and murmurred in agreement, not really getting his point.
"If that's all he wants, there's a better way. Easier too. That park is owned by that queen freak, Tessa." Clay stated.
One of the other men shrugged. "Yeah. So?"
"That's the point. The freak owns it. There's no board or committee. Just her. If the freak's not there, Nably can buy the park easy." Clay stated.
Another drained his beer. "So?"
"So; we take it out instead. I heard it lives in a house all alone. We just go over there and throw a beatin' and torch the house. No more freak, no evidence, job done. Hell, we'll probably get a bonus." Clay smirked.
"Shit! Chill! Chill!" One of the guys said looking off.
Clay looked in the direction and saw a man trying very hard to pick up some discarded cans and shook his head. "Forget it. That bum ain't nothin'."
"You sure?" The guy asked.
One of the others nodded. "Look at him. That dude's shakin' so bad. DT's are hittin' hard. He probably can't even make sense right now. Probably lucky if he knows his own damn name. Clay's right. Let's just go do the freak and torch the house."
"By this time tomorrow, we'll be 5k heavier and that freak Tessa'll be toast. Come on, we'll get some gas and wait til about two in the mornin'." Clay said leading them away.
Ol' Mac had tried six times to pick up the empty beer can. Then he heard men talking. Not much made sense until they said her name, Tessa. Tessa and fire. That made sense.
"Gonna burn the angel. Can't let." Ol' Mac stammered out and abandoned the cans despite not having a drink in two days.
The man in the bar had said he would give Mac some beers or a few dollars for picking up all the cans. That no longered mattered. He had found out the angel was real and now some men wanted to burn her. He had to find her and tell her. Mac began walking. He saw a police car and went over to it.
"Help." Ol' Mac said waving to the officer inside.
The officer warily got out. "What's the problem?"
"I have to go see her. They're gonna burn her." Mac stammered.
Officer Strahern looked at him intently. "Who's going to get burned?"
"The angel. Tessa. Where is she?" Ol' Mac plead. "They want to burn her. I heard."
"You mean Queen Tessa?" Strahern asked then noticed the old man's shaking. "Mister are you drying out?"
Mac went down to his knees. "She's real. I saw her! They want to burn her!"
Strahern reached down and pulled him up. "I hear you. Ok. Tell you what. We'll go tell the Security there, ok? They protect Queen Tessa."
Ol' Mac let himself be sat in the back and the officer drove. Strahern was mentally arguing with himself. One side said the old man must be going through withdrawls and could be breaking. The other half though remembered all the latest incidents at the park. Queen Tessa did have real enemies that may come after her. He decided it couldn't hurt to err on the side of caution and drove to the park. He pulled up at the gates and got out then brought out the old man. They didn't have to wait long.
"Evening Officer. Can I help you?" Zeke Malone asked then focused on the other. "Mac? Ol' Mac? What's going on? It's me, Zeke."
Mac understood the man knew him and lurched forward. "They're coming! I heard them! They want to burn the angel. Tessa. I saw her that night. I know she's real. They want to burn her!"
"Is he making any sense to you?" Strahern asked.
Zeke nodded. "Yeah. Let me take care of him Officer."
"Ok. He's all yours then. I almost took him in instead. He looks like he's drying out." Strahern said then went back to his patrol car.
Zeke put an arm around him. "Come on Mac. Let's get you some coffee."
"Tell the angel? You'll take me?" Ol' Mac asked.
Zeke nodded. "Yeah Mac. We'll tell Queen Tessa."
By the time Zeke got him through the gates and into the park, several others had arrived.
"What's up Sir?" Barkley asked.
Zeke gave orders. "We need to get some coffee in this man. Looks like he's going into DT's. I don't want to give him any alcohol, but may need to to get him calmed down."
"Yes sir!" Barkley acknowledged and ran off.
Zeke keyed his radio. "Over-watch. Is Queen Tessa still in the park or has she gone home?"
"Copy Zeke. I have her heading toward her dressing room. You need her or just checking?" The Over-Watch operator asked.
Zeke answered. "Have somebody ask her to come to my location. This might be important."
"Roger. Hold position." Over-Watch replied.
A few minutes later Tessa and two of her Security escort came into view. She hadn't changed yet, so she was still in her gown and tiara.
"Mister Malone." Tessa said. "You have something that needs my attention?"
"It's you!" Mac exclaimed and slipped off the bench Zeke sat him on.
Tessa ordered. "Help that man."
"Ma'am!" Martell and Dermot quickly reached down and gently helped him back to the bench.
Tessa bent down. "You came here to see me?"
"You're real. I saw you. Help you. They're coming. They want to burn you." Mac stammered out.
Tessa leaned down to him. "Yes Sir. I'm real. You did see me. Who's coming to burn me?"
"I heard them. They're coming." Mac insisted.
"I believe you. You told me about them. They won't hurt me." Tessa reassured him then turned back to Zeke. "Mister Malone. Get this man to the medical station. He needs attention. Have Over-Watch call the Captain, tell him to return to the park."
"Aye Aye Queen Tessa." Zeke said and relayed the instructions then turned to his men. "Let's take Mac to the infirmary. Come on Mac. We'll take care of you."
Zeke looped one of Mac's arms over his shoulder while Martell did the same. they all but carried him away.
"I found her. I told her." Mac insisted. "They can't burn her now?"
Zeke nodded. "They can't burn her now. You did good, Mac. We're going to take care of you now. Just relax. I got you."
Mac was taken to the Medical Station. Within minutes both nurses arrived and began checking him over. Unfortunately Mac hadn't bathed for some time and it was becoming a factor.
"Zeke. I really hate to say this, but something is going to have to be done about your friend." Leslie stated.
Zeke nodded. "I understand Ma'am. We'll take him over to the staff locker room and get him cleaned up."
With Martell's help again, the two men gathered Mac up and took him to the locker room. An hour later they were back and the nurses were able to resume work.
Finally Leslie sighed. "He's in bad shape Zeke. He's going into withdrawls. Alcoholism I suspect. I'm sorry Zeke, but he's going to have to go to a clinic for rehab. He's so old and weak, he may not be able to handle it on his own."
Zeke looked down at the old man, shaking even harder than before. He felt torn. His duty was there, to Tessa. Yet, Ol' Mac needed him too. He needed somebody to care. Zeke reached for his mic.
"Anybody near Queen Tessa?" Zeke asked.
Her voice came back seconds later. "Yes Mister Malone?"
"Queen Tessa, Ol' Mac needs to go to a rehab clinic. How do I get him there?" Zeke asked.
Tessa answered. "Take him there yourself Mister Malone. Take Leslie with you and have her fill out the relevant documents. Leslie, have them bill the park. We will assume responsibility for Mister Malone's friend."
When Leslie nodded, Zeke called back. "Aye Aye Queen Tessa."
Martell drove the medic cart to transport the group to the dorm parking lot. Ol' Mac was transferred to Zeke's truck to lay down on the backseat. Leslie got in the passenger seat and Zeke drove away. An hour later Mac was being settled into a room and beginning a severe detox treatment. Leslie assured Zeke that his friend would be looked after, but he would better off returning to the park.
Clay led his crew over the gate. Four two-gallon plastic gas cans were passed over then the other two men climbed over. Clay carried a flat pry-bar and a sledgehammer. The others had lengths of board three to four feet long. They sneaked up the long drive and approached the castle-like house. The group quietly circled around, looking at the windows, but choose the french doors on the back patio for their entry. Clay checked his crew and nodded then began to work the doors with his pry-bar. The door was compressed enough to groan and finally popped open. The group silently entered. The gas cans were left in the middle of the darkened room as they found the stairs and went up. Quietly each door was checked until they found the master-suite. All of them entered and surrounded the bed.
Clay edged closer and swung the sledgehammer at the middle of the form within the bedding. "GET IT!"
The boards swung together, smacking into the bedding. For a minute all that could be heard were the thwacking of impacts.
"WHAT THE?" Clay exclaimed at the oddness of no resistance or sound of injury.
Suddenly the lights snapped on. "FREEZE!"
Several armed deputies were coming through the door with their pistols draw and some with shotguns. Clay and his crew all looked completely stunned. They were handcuffed and read their rights.
Tessa came into the room, her face was etched with fury as she stared at the man that she had seen leading them and glared at him. "You didn't come up with this all by yourself. Who sent you?"
Cclay pooled his saliva and spit at her face. "Fuckin' freak!"
From the side, a tissue was held out. Tessa took it and wiped the spittle away.
"Call over to the dorm. Inform Princess Nicole to come to her bayou, wake up her pet." Tessa snarled then turned away. "Bring the scum."
Without thinking, the deputies began bringing the crew. The Sheriff was confused and hurried after her.
"Tessa, just what are you up to?" Sheriff Roy Dodd asked.
Tessa didn't look over or break stride. "Getting an answer to my question Sheriff. Don't interfere."
"Wait a minute! You can't mean that you're going to force these men to talk? That's illegal! It'll get the whole damn case thrown out!" Sheriff Dodd protested.
Tessa asked loudly. "Who said those so-called men were going to court, Sheriff?"
Only the Sheriff saw her wink. He decided to play along for a minute. "Look, that thing with blowing that kidnapper's balls off was one thing; the little boy was in danger of a drug overdose! Yes; you doing that did save the kid's life, but this, this is different."
"Get earplugs if you can't handle the screaming. They're criminal scum, tried to slaughter me and burn my house to the ground! You saw the gas and what they did in my bedroom! You will NOT stand in MY way!" Tessa declared and led on.
The Security men encouraged the deputies to continue on, trying not to smile. They knew immediately what Tessa had planned. They also knew it would work. Sheriff Dodd continued with his token argument until they reached a large body of water surrounded by a fence and went through a gate.
"Princess Nicole! Did you wake up your pet?" Tessa demanded.
The cajun girl nodded angrily and glared at the men in custody. "Oui, Reine Tessa. Etienne, him plenty mad."
Nicole waved them to follow and led up to the edge of the concrete pond. She turned on a flashlight then bent down and splashed her hand in the water. Seconds later something splashed on the other side and a low, gutteral, gurgling growl was heard. She played the beam around then twin white reflections came back. Whatever was reflecting the light was moving as well. Toward them.
"Allons you mean ol' thang! ALLONS ETIENNE!" Nicole shouted then turned around and crooked a finger. "Monsieur bad-guy. You meet Etienne. Allons Hommes."
Two of the Security-men grabbed Clay, hauled him over and began to bend him over to the water.
"Non!" Nicole said then gestured with her hand to turn him around and spread his legs. "Other way, yeah."
Clay realized what they were doing. Maneuvering him to be held over the water, groin first and legs wide open. The growling sounded louder and water was rippling. Nicole shined the light and a dark form was moving through the water, coming closer.
"You see sign? There for reason, yeah. Etienne no nice." Nicole grinned. "Swamp Legend Jeromy Pruitt, David LaDart drive up, themself, to bring Etienne. Put Big Arm on 'im! Etienne make big fight, yeah!"
Tessa playing along. "Ten thousand dollars for your gator was a big bounty, Princess. Show me what he's worth."
Nicole smiled big then slapped the water three times fast. "ALLONS!"
The thing in the water revealed itself to be what looked like an alligator, at least ten feet long of body alone. It lifted its head to hiss and sped up.
The Sheriff and deputies were startled and voiced their surprise.
"WHOA WHOA WHOA! THIS IS GETTING REAL NOW!" Sheriff Dodd protested in very real alarm.
Nicole laughed. "Bon apetit, Etienne!"
Clay struggled to get free, but the Security held him tight and even lowered him further. The Gator reared up again, hissing, as it closed in.
"WAIT! JOE NABLY SENT US. HE PAID US TO MESS UP THE RIDES WHILE PEOPLE WERE ON 'EM! HE DIDN'T KNOW WE CHANGED THE PLAN!" Clay began to scream in terror.
Nicole hollered. "YA'LL WANT HURT PEOPLE? KIDS?"
"JOE NABLY! HE PAID US TO! IT WOULD DRIVE SALE OF THE PARK!" Clay yelled then screamed as the gator reared up a few feet away.
The gator reared up and opened its mouth. "You wet your britches, boy?"
Laughter followed. The security-men holding Clay, Nicole and the other Security force members were laughing as well.
Sheriff Dodd looked over at Tessa dumbfounded and pointed to the water. "Uh....."
Tessa finally smirked. "Concrete pond, ten thousand. Animatronic alligator, thirty-five hundred. The LOOK on your faces; PRICELESS."
"This guy pass out." Nicole giggled then turned to call out and wave. "Merci, Bo!"
Etienne opened its mouth again. "No problem. Too bad I don't have the accent you do. I'll put Etienne back inside the show pond now."
The animatronic gator 'swam' away and a light came on by the building and a man came into view as the gator came up out of the water. to reveal it was animatronic. It was mounted on a metal post and running on a track that went into the water.
Sheriff Dodd watched as Tessa's face resumed a look of anger. "Get that trash out of my realm, Sheriff. Before I think of something more creative and definitely harmful to do with them."
The deputies reclaimed Clay as he came around and began to take the crew to their squad cars.
"Somebody get me that asshole Nably's head. I need a new paper-weight for my desk!" Tessa snarled walking away.
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 19 of
VentureRealm Park |
As the cast and staff began to prepare for the day, a sense of tension was spreading. Those that lived in the dorm had it first. Due to interaction in locker-rooms and dressing areas, it passed to those who lived off-compound. The mechanics and technicians had come in early and worked with a fury to inspect every ride. Reassurances by Over-Watch were taken, but equipment was still verified to be in proper working order. Anything that even looked suspect was replaced. By the time guests began to line up at the gates, the last of the rides had passed their test run. All were operating as they had when first run.
Every member of Main Force Security had a hard look on their faces. They were scanning the faces of every person they could see. During the morning briefing the State Police showed up. The Sheriff had contacted the State Attorney General who in turn contacted the State Police with a warrant to search Nably's business. After that was when Troopers visited the park. Their news incited even more anger from the Security Force, Tessa and the princesses. A picture was flashed on the big screen on the wall. Joe Nably, detain and call for the State Police to take into custody.
When the gates opened, the Hospitality staff were paying close scrutiny. Over-Watch had an additional member in the monitor room running facial recognition on the entrants. The first hour passed. The second hour passed. It was just after Noon that the quietness ended.
"Over-Watch to all. Juliet November is over the threshold. Number 6." The operator announced. "Repeat; Juliet November over the threshold, number 6."
Heads turned and confirmations were subtly made. Direction of movement was relayed and ten Main Force members converged to take up a dedicated perimeter around him. Dave Wells was already calling the State Police. Troopers were en-route before he disconnected. Dave strode angrily as he made his way to Storm Bayou. Along the way he met up with Tessa and her escorts.
Over in WildForest Princess Michelle heard the announcement over the radio of her own escort detail.
"Let's go!" Michelle said and started walking fast.
Her four Security escorts kept step with her as they left her area to head for Storm Bayou.
Princess Danica in SeaSide was doing the same. "Come on guys!"
"Aye Aye Princess." One the former Marines replied and led the way.
Princess Nicole stopped in mid-joke at the announcement then turned back to the kids. "Je suis désolé les enfants, sorry kids. I get back on this later."
A collective 'awww' went out as she turned to go.
"Hommes, avec moi! Allons!" Princess Nicole waved to her escorts.
The detail were hot on the heels of the cajun. They knew she was furious and needed to be held back, or she would attack the man alone. Soon enough though she spotted him.
"See you, yeah!" Princess Nicole snarled and made to confront him.
One of her escorts caught her and stage whispered. "Not yet Princess. Wait. He's not going anywhere."
Nicole said back angrily. "Want him bad Tommy. He paid those guys mess up the rides to hurt people. Change they mind, try killing Reine Tessa 'stead."
"We want him too Princess. Stand fast though, he's trapped. He just doesn't know it yet." Tommy DeVrie informed her.
Moments later, Princess Michelle could be seen coming from the other side. She too, was stopped by her escorts. Princess Danica joined Nicole with her group. Finally Tessa arrived with her full contingent. Each princess had four escorts while Tessa had all twelve of her own. They began to move in, but had to stop as people suddenly took off baggy shirts. They were wearing t-shirts underneath emblazoned with a church group on the back and front.
"THIS PLACE IS SINFUL!" One person yelled.
A woman called out. "YOU'VE ALL BEEN LURED INTO A TRAP BY A DEVIANT!"
Tessa waved her people forward to push past the people.
Nicole growled angrily, passing through. "Knock off, noisy fool! We busy!"
The group stopped shouting in confusion at being pushed aside and disregarded. It was beyond obvious that they and their antics were unimportant. VentureRealm's royalty stood surrounding Joe Nably. Their security escorts forming a ring around them.
Dave Wells called out. "Sloan."
"Yes Sir, Captain." Jimmy answered then addressed Joe Nably. "Nably, stay where you are. State Police are coming to take you into custody. I'm a reserve Deputy for the Sheriff's Department and can arrest you myself, so don't move."
Princess Nicole snarled at him. "Can't believe you. You send you boyfriends come in here tear up rides so people get hurt and kill! All to make close down and buy for self!"
Joe Nably had frozen in surprise. He had no idea where all these security people had come from to effectively surround him so fast. Like they had materialized from thin air itself. When she spoke, he stared at Tessa Frost in anger, but it was no match for the fury on her own face.
"Nably I send word through your lackey; back off. Twice. I told you, face to face, to back off. I have no idea where you come off thinking laws don't apply to you, but they do. You can't buy your way out of this." Tessa said then hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "And as for the stunt with those idiots? You forgot to mention to them about your little sabotage plan?"
"Sabotage?" Someone asked, confused.
Tessa turned around and addressed the group. "Of course. He paid six men to break into the park last night. Their task was to sabotage the rides and cause injuries. By his own words, death would be even better. I'm assuming he sent you a message highlighting myself. I'm sure he sent you a donation as well to motivate you."
People began to look at each other trying to understand exactly what was being said. One was fairly quick on the uptake.
"Are you saying he's using us?" A man asked.
Princess Michelle nodded. "He played you all like a cheap MP3 and now you look like REAL idiots. Congrats, you're stupid."
"Bunch of guppies. Little brains, BIG mouths." Princess Danica remarked in disgust.
Princess Nicole was still the most hostile. "Should take down to Breaux Bridge and strip 'im down and leave out for the skeetas. Gatorbait too good for him, yeah. That or throw bucket of beer over and drop in the Basin for them leeches."
"That will do, Princess. Even though your suggestions are entertaining, we'll be turning him over to the State Troopers." Tessa said to Nicole, but glared at Nably. "Oh yes, Mister Nably, you will indeed get your day in court. Even though any punishment they impose will always be woefully inadequet, you'll face justice. When they are done with you, it will be MY turn."
Unknown to Nably, three State Troopers were coming up behind him.
"Think any of this'll stop me, freak? I'll make bail before the ink dries and I'll hire better guys to come after you. Maybe if enough of your people go to the hospital, better yet, the morgue; you'll clear out! I'll scoop this place up for nothing and do whatever I want. I got money, I own people. Things a freak, like you, can't!" Nably snarled then froze as he was suddenly grabbed and cuffed. "WHAT THE HELL? GET OFF ME! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I'LL HAVE YOUR BADGES!"
One Trooper was cuffing him and the other began mirandizing and actually reading it off a card. "Joseph Nably, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a Court of Law. You have the right to an attorney and have them present during questioning. If you do not have or cannot afford an attorney, you will be provided one. Do you understand your rights as you are now under arrest?"
Nably continued to shout and struggle until the Trooper pulled his Taser. "SIR! If you continue to resist, I'll have to light your non-complying ass up!"
Several people began to shout in support of the Troopers, to tase him anyway, until Tessa caught their attention. It became so silent, even a snail could be heard crawling.
"Enough." Tessa said the looked at Nably. "Count the minutes Mister Nably, the time of getting your way has just come to an end. See you in court."
The Troopers led him away to their patrol units at the gates. Tessa finally turned to the protest group. In her gown and tiara, backed by the three princesses with a large contingent of Security, she looked extremely imposing. The look of disgust she cast at them was unmistakable as well.
"One bit of nonsense down, one to go." Tessa said coldly after stepping close to the obvious leader. "How exactly does it feel to be duped by a man that would resort to murder in the name of money? The same money you jumped all over."
"We were told a deviant runs this place!" The man proclaimed only be silenced with a slap.
Tessa cut him off before he said another word. "Listen close you sanctimonoius jackass! You call me or anybody that works for me that again and I'll tear you apart where you stand! You don't know any of us! How dare you come here and insult! Your bullshit religion is as corrupt as it gets! You danced to the whims of a so-called man that paid thugs to come in here and damage the machinery here in hopes people would be injured and even killed in the pursuit of money! I can go into any church of the so-called Christian faith and find con artists, adulterers, drug dealers, thieves and even pedophiles! The con artists and pedophiles are usually at the pulpit banging their fist on a bible! So don't you dare come at us with your unfounded accusations, we have more integrity than you ever will!"
He shouted back. "I'm a man of the cloth!"
"Oh Yeah? Then I will pay you a million dollars cash to prove, right here, right now; Heaven and God exists and YOUR way is correct! I challenge you and your bullshit religion! PROVE UP or GET OUT!" Tessa demanded then addressed the crowd around her. "My parents took me to every church they could get to, brought in every priest, pastor and anybody else they could call. The only things they didn't try were voodoo witch doctors, snake-charmers and Budhist Monks. I'm still ME! I wasn't possessed, I'm not deranged. I've never harmed a child, nor will I ever. I even go out of my way to ensure the protection of children here. I donate to school programs that truly advance a child to a realistic future, instead of filling their heads with pipe-dreams of professional sport! These churches and their hate-troops, do NONE of those things and never will!"
Dave took command of his troops. "PLATOON! REMOVE THESE HOSTILES!"
A chorus went up. "HOO-AHH!" "HOO-RAH!" "HOO-YAH!"
The Security force moved in and began roughly walking the protest group to the gates with Dave leading the way.
Dave glared at the leader. "And if you think we can't throw your butts out, this is private property except for the Reservation. You can be arrested for tresspassing by the Sheriff's department or be arrested by Federal Agents, take your pick. Or you can leave and never come back all on your own."
Tessa addressed the actual park guests. "Ladies, gentlemen and especially children, I do apologize you all had to endure that. Fools will always demand more attention than they should get. Please put it all from your minds and enjoy a beautiful day in the park. Princesses, take charge of your areas."
All three curtsied then turned and invited people to follow them in pursuit of fun things. Tessa herself, led the way to SnowyHill. In no time, people were enjoying games, sing-alongs and dances with the park's royalty.
Nably and his attorney sat in the Interrogation Room of the State Police Headquarters and looked up when the State A.G walked in.
"I demand the release of my client." Nably's attorney stated but was cut off.
Jeremiah Hessfield rolled his eyes. "Not happening. We're still tacking on charges. Right now we have him for extortion, bribery, conspiracy, racketeering and the hits keep coming."
Nably smirked. "You got shit!"
"Actually we got everything." Jeremiah said to their confusion. "You're pretty stupid, really."
Nably and his attorney's jaws dropped as a CD was played, the meeting that Nably hired the thugs to go in to sabotage the park.
"How in the Hell did you get that!" Joe Nably demanded.
Jeremiah smirked now. "Your computer. You mean YOU didn't set it up to record audio every day and store it on a cloud? That and you don't delete your sent emails of wrong doing. You practically handed us evidence of every illegal act you've committed for the last ten years. You're sabotage crew rolled, that gave us probable cause to get a warrant to search your office. The rest, is about to slam you in court."
The Real Estate developer and his lawyer sat stunned as the A.G stood up with smile to go, but looked back from the door. "Oh yeah, the I.R.S. are wanting to talk to you too. Something about falsifying your records, undeclared income. They have a thing about stuff like that. Good luck with them. No sense of humor at all."
At his arraignment, bail was denied. Nably was deemed a flight risk due to his many property holdings and possible still undiscovered secret funds. His time in the cells weren't pleasant. One of the Deputies was 'overheard talking to another Deputy' about how Nably had paid to have rides at the park sabotaged. For some reason, emphasis was put on the rides for small kids. That didn't set well with the prisoners and they made it very clear in blind sopt of camera coverage, between the guards rounds. Three weeks later Nably finally saw the courtroom. The judge sat calmly, but the jury grew more and more angry as evidence was presented. Evidence and testimony that couldn't be refuted by the Defense. Put simply, the case was over before it had even begun. Right after the Judge gave the sentence, Trent Valens intercepted Nably and his attorney. He served them the papers for the lawsuit. Tessa had Trent going for everything Nably had left.
Elaine Oberline sat in her office. It had taken a while to go through and repair all the damage done by Ralph Conway. It turned out, Nably wasn't his only source of money. The more the Deputies dug, the worse it became.
Roy Dodd came in. "I think we're finally done."
"About time!" Elaine groaned.
"That park has really turned this town up and around. Kind of hard to know now, which way is up." Sheriff Dodd remarked.
Elaine sighed. "Don't I know it! Between her improvements to the schools and streets, to the two-minute uproar of her being a transgender and that developer trying to take the park away; I swear Roy, it's been non-stop."
"That Queen Tessa sure does know how to stir things up, that's for sure!" Roy laughed.
Elaine nodded. "Oh, she is anything but dull alright. I'm glad she has no intention of running for office."
"You know she's suing the underwear off that guy, right?" Roy asked.
That got Elaine's attention. "How much is she going for?"
"Don't know, but I heard it's absolutely everything of value he has." Roy said. "The real question is; what's she going to do with it?"
Elaine shrugged. "With her, it's anybody's guess. No one really knows what she's up to until its in full-swing."
Zeke had spent several hours everyday at the detox center. Ol' Mac had a rough time drying out, but somehow made it. On the last day, Tessa herself was there.
"Mister McDennett. I've not forgotten you." Tessa said.
Mac looked her up and down. Tessa wore a simple white halter dress and sandals, but in his eyes, still very much the same angel he saw on Christmas Eve.
His voice no longer sounded hollow as he said. "You're Tessa. The Queen. I remember you."
"Yes Mister McDennett. I'm told you no longer need to be here. Are you ready to go?" Tessa asked.
Ol' Mac was confused. "Go? Where am I going? I don't have anywhere."
Tessa shook her head. "That's not true Mister McDennett. You do have a place to call home. It would be best if we take you there, because you start work tomorrow. Mister Malone, we should head out now."
Zeke nodded. "Aye Queen Tessa. Come on Mac. Let's get you home. Ride's waiting."
Outside, Tessa's Lincoln waited. Zeke helped Mac into the backseat beside Tessa then sat ride shotgun up front. They drove back to the park and parked at the dorm. Zeke led the way upstairs and down a hallway to a door and opened it. Slowly Mac went inside and looked around.
"Nice digs, huh?" Zeke asked proudly.
Mac nodded. "Is this where you live?"
Zeke shook his head. "Nope. I'm right next door. This is yours. Look here. "
Zeke opened the closet and brought out a set of white pants and purple shirt with the park logo. The name Wesley McDennett was embroidered above the park logo.
"Queen Tessa hired you to work the Senior Services desk." Zeke said with a smile.
Mac was still in minor shock of it all. "I have a job now?"
"You have an important job, Mister McDennett. Children aren't the only ones to visit the park. Older people do as well. Some need assistance. I think would be the right person to help them. Would you do that for us?" Tessa asked.
Mac was more surprised and asked just to make sure. "You want me to stay here and work for you?"
Tessa smiled. "Of course, Mister McDennett. For as long as you want to."
"As long as I want? For real?" Mac asked and her nod, replied. "Yes Ma'am."
Zeke patted him gently on the shoulder. "She's your Queen too now. Queen Tessa."
"Welcome to my realm, Mister McDennett. See you tomorrow." Tessa smiled as she turned to go. "Carry on Mister Malone."
Zeke sat Mac down and handed him a packet of papers. Some needed his signature, the rest needed only to be read. Later when Zeke took him down to the cafeteria, Mac was amazed at the food there. Zeke encouraged him to try as much as he could and eat his fill. He also assured him that the others back at the alley of outcasts were going to be fed. That the food not eaten from the line would be trucked over there. When Mac laid down in his bed that night, Mac finally knew a night of peaceful sleep.
Trent Valens gathered up all he needed. Joe Nably had 4 million in liquid assets and another 8 million in properties scattered over three states. Tessa told him to go after it all. That was all Trent needed to be told. The only reason to go to court at all, was Nably was desperately fighting to hang on to anything of value now. The bulk of his wealth had already been ravaged by the courts in the form of fines and I.R.S. penalties. When he had been arrested, Nably was worth almost 30 million in assets. Much of it undeclared. He was shown no mercy.
Closing his briefcase, Trent said to himself. "Tomorrow is doom'sday for you, asshole."
If you liked this chapter of VentureRealm Park, please do Kudo. No membership needed.
Chapter 20 of
VentureRealm Park the finale |
Trent Valens started off having a field day and carried it for three more. Thanks to the evidence found by the State Police, Nably and his legal team had no hope in Hell of even thinking of winning. They did try though. Every dirty and bigoted ploy was thrown at Trent Valens and Tessa's case. Each one was turned around and shown for what it was. Crude and lowball tactics to try excusing behaviour that had no excuse. Finally the last word was given by Tessa herself.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury and court. You've heard many things here in this room. Many were malicious and without substance. Since I moved to Bayleston and set up my works, I've done many things. I've given support to educational programs in all the schools, from elementary up to the Technical colleges. Worked in conjunction with the local department of Veterans' Affairs and Military Recruitment offices to provide mentors for young people wishing to volunteer for our country's military services. Donated funds and other needed things to programs for improving the conditions of the streets of the city and its denizens. Even with accredited Humane Animal services to help with the problem of unwanted and abused animals." Tessa said as she wandered the court room.
"I never hid the fact that I, myself, am a transgender person. That, however, is nobody's business; but mine. Even in my past, I never endangered, nor mistreated any child, though I had been repeatedly. I took all that and made it a fuel. I'm not out to change the world, just my little place in it. I've done well and will continue to do so, with or without anyone's permission or approval. I do it for myself, because I want to. Mister Nably cares only for the accumulating of personal wealth and influence without a second thought of any harm his actions bring. No, I correct that, he has already said that if people are harmed, and in some cases killed, it was all the better as far as he was concerned. Every cent I seek in this legal action will not be for myself. I intend it to go to even more of those programs I support. I'll do all I can to make children's dreams real and clean up the streets of our cities." Tessa said then stared at Joe Nably. "I'll do it to the very last PENNY."
All could see the look of absolute furious conviction on her face when she said that. Her crisp white dress and white high-heel sandals gave her the look of Winter's Queen. Right down to the platinum snowflake jewelry and three tiny clear crystals at the outer corners of her eyes and silvery eyeliner. All had drawn every eye to her and served its purpose exactly how she had wanted to appear; clean and untouchably radiant as a Queen. With those final words, the jury went into deliberation.
Four hours later Court reconvened and the Foreman stood.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" The Judge asked.
The Foreman, actually a woman, nodded and stated clearly. "We have, Your Honor. In a vote of Eleven to One; we find in favor of the Plaintiff, Tessa Frost."
Trent leaned close to Tessa and whispered. "They managed to sneak in one definite anti-trans hard-liner."
Tessa nodded, but said nothing. She knew it would have been impossible to keep them all out to get an unbiased jury.
"Very well." The Judge acknowledged. "Defense rise. Joe Nably, You have faced a jury of peers and they have found against you. A settlement of sixteen million dollars is to be paid to Tessa Frost in a timely manner. Counselor Valens."
Trent nodded. "Seven to ten working days will be sufficient, Your Honor."
"So noted. Seven to ten working days. Case closed, Court adjourned." The Judge stated for the record, while making the proper notes as well.
A moment later he stood up and the Bailiff called out. "All Rise."
After the Judge left, everyone began to filter out. Many congratulating Trent and Tessa. Nably was taken out and returned to custody as his legal team left. As the last few to congratulate Tessa made their way out the Attorney General came up and shook hands with Trent.
"Valens, that was some damn fine casework!" Jeremiah Hessfield smiled.
Trent chuckled. "Well you did so much hard work for us, I couldn't let it go to waste now, could I?"
"I still can't believe he was so stupid to set his computer up to record every dirty deed." Tessa remarked.
Jeremiah smirked. "Actually, he didn't."
"Say again?" Tessa asked, now confused.
The State Attorney General laughed. "He didn't. His former secretary did it. When she found out he was real piece of work, she knew she had to protect herself. She set up his computer to record and transfer the files to a cloud. She could remotely access it, anytime she needed, if she got made the fall-girl. We just happened across it and I brought her in for questioning. She admitted that she did and why. Pretty smart. She turned State's Evidence in exchange for a reference. To sweeten it, she told us about four properties that Nably had filed falsely under her name and signed them over to the state to use as we see fit. I have a friend in a federal agency looking for a property manager and passed her resume along. She moved out of state a week ago, no longer of interest to us. All's well that ends well."
Tessa rolled her eyes. "Really counselor? How long have you sat on that cliche?"
Jeremiah laughed again. "Since I first got Nably in my sights. You all have a great day. Hail to the Queen and all that."
Tessa shook her head smiling as he left waving over his shoulder, whistling a happy tune.
Trent took up his briefcase and offered his arm. "Shall we, My Queen."
"Of course, we shouldn't keep everyone waiting." Tessa chuckled and took his arm.
Trent asked. "So what are you going to do now?"
"Same thing I do every day Trent; try to take over the world." Tessa giggled as her Security team formed around her.
"ZORT!" Trent replied as they all laughed with her.
Three weeks later Elaine Oberline stood on a dais. Tessa and her Princesses were in full regalia, along with their escorts in ceremonial uniforms.
"Queen Tessa. In respect to all your works here in Bayleston, improving the community in so many ways we'd be here for a week and half to list them, I present you the Key to the City."
"Thank you Mayor Oberline. And definitely thank you for not going to detail." Tessa said, taking the key. "Since you were so kind to be brief, so will I. There are so many good people here in Bayleston, I'm very glad to have met some of them and hope one day to be able to say that I've met them all. Sad as I am to say that there are some that don't think too highly of me, but that's them and there's nothing I'll ever do that will change that. I'll just keep doing what I do and hold my head high. I've heard many good things about you Elaine, I do hope you run for another term. You've done alot, but I know you can and will find more ways to better the city."
"If that's a Royal command, in your confidence, I'll be happy to oblige." Elaine interrupted with a smile.
Tessa smiled back. "Then I charge you; make it happen, Madam Mayor. Now, let's return to my realm for a wonderful day!"
Even the Mayor curtsied to her as Tessa and all three Princesses took the steps down to four horse drawn carriages. Elaine Oberline joined her in the white lead carriage. Each princess got into her own, painted in their color. Blue for Danica, green for Michelle and purple for Nicole. Their escorts mounted horses and rode along the sides as the procession left to go to the park.
Away from the crowd, Elaine asked. "These carriages and horses are so beautiful! Where on earth did you get them?"
"The carriages and tack were built by my people at the park and the horses came from rescue shelters. All they needed was love and good home. We'll use them for special events, like parades and rent them out for weddings for a low price. Rental money will be donated to shelters around the state for medical care and feed for horses not placed yet." Tessa told her.
In the lead, Dave Wells rode on an actual Clydesdale of spotted grey color that had been rescued. He wore what looked like traditional cavalry ceremonial Armour and helmet holding a drawn saber. He raised his saber and called out attention to any flag they passed along the way. A line off cars followed behind them with their hazard lights flashing. Two Deputy patrol cycles led them and took turns to control traffic. When carriages and riders came into sight of the park gates, a cheer went up. A crowd had formed and waited for the park to open, at its regular time. One by one the carriages pulled up and the ladies were let out and walked to the gates.
Tessa was let in, along with her group and she turned to look at the clock. Two minutes later she called out. "I, Queen Tessa, command; OPEN THE GATES! WELCOME TO VENTUREREALM!"
Green lights came on over each gates and the Hospitality workers smiled as people came forward to pay admission. Children flocked to their favorite royal and soon large groups began to make their way into the park.
Even Elaine Oberline got into the spirit as several girls looked up at her. "Well now, where should we start? How about WildForest today and see the animals?"
"YAY!" The kids cheered and followed her.
Elaine's husband and kids met up with her there then they all separated to go to their favorite area.
Eight days later, Trent entered Tessa's office. As usual, she was in her gown and tiara, but tackling paperwork.
"Ah, Royal duties." Trent chuckled.
Tessa continued to sign papers. "Everyday Trent, everyday. What's up?"
Trent laid a check in front of her. "Every cent the asshole had left."
"Sixteen and some change." Tessa read the amount. "I know just what to do with it."
A three minutes after being called, the head of the Financial department came in. "Yes Ma'am?"
Tessa signed the back of the check and handed it to her. "Deposit that in the charity account immediately. Send a fifty-thousand dollar check to the girl Sylvia up at AmHurst college. Then cut a check for another five million going to the Finn Foundation I told you about. Put a million in Idle Hands and Street Table each. Another million to Little Ones Found. That's all the ones for today. I'll get with you tomorrow about how the rest should go."
"Easy come, easy go." Trent remarked at how fast she started going through the money.
Tessa went back to signing more papers. "Lots of people in shit Trent, just like paperwork, it's every day. Was that all of it?"
"Nope. Turned out, he owned the three properties across from the park already. Here's the deeds to those." Trent said and laid the papers in front of her. "You have to sign those, by the way."
"I'M GETTING A RUBBER STAMP THING!" Tessa hollered.
Trent burst out laughing. Tessa muttered various things she wanted to do to people that indulged in the bizarre fetish for signed papers then handed the packet back to him.
"Uh, what am I supposed to do with them now?" Trent asked.
Tessa looked at him blankly. "DUH! File them at the courthouse. Then you list two of them for sale. Get me a good deal for them. The one right across the drive from us, I want to keep. Call Bill Roanoke and Dominic Hadley, tell them I have a NEW job for them. I want a hotel built."
"Hotel?" Trent asked.
Tessa turned around and pointed to an eight inch stack of papers. "Resumes, each one a transgender person in deep shit and needing a new life. Oh yeah."
Tessa pulled twelve files from the stack and handed them to him. "Four lawyers and eight paralegals. Call them up and get them here. They need a job. Lots of good people need somebody to stand up for them against assholes. We nailed one, let's see what else we can do."
Ol' Mac sat at the desk in the shade. Children walked by and waved to him, so he waved back. Suddenly four little girls stopped and were looking past him. Quickly they curtsied then smiled and scampered off. He turned around and saw why. Tessa was walking up.
"Queen Tessa." Mac greeted and began to stand up.
Tessa waved him to sit. "No need to get up Mister McDennett. I'm just wandering by and wanted to look in on you."
"Doing fine here. It's shady and usually a little breeze. That young 'un, Mark, comes by often enough and tells me to drink my water." Mac told her.
Tessa smiles. "Mark is happiest when people know he's doing his best to look after them."
"He's a worry-wart alright. Still getting used to that." Mac said.
"To what Mister McDennett?" Tessa asked.
Mac looked around. "Everything. People smiling and waving to me. Having a place to live. A job to come to. Real money. Not drinking. Folks calling me 'Sir' and 'Mister'. Even you calling me 'Mister'. Queen Tessa, you ain't got no cause, calling me a 'mister'."
Tessa gave him a firm look. "That's where you're wrong, Mister McDennett. I have every reason and right to call you Mister McDennett. Because of you, I am still here. You kept me safe. Now I keep you safe. I do have to admit, I did tell a small lie."
Mac was puzzled. "Lie?"
Tessa nodded then held up an envelope and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper. "I did come to see you for a reason. I got this letter today. Dear Queen Tessa. My name is Richie. I'm eight years old and saw you on tv. I watch alot of tv here in the hospital. People talk about you all the time. They say you make dreams come true. I never knew my grandpa. He died before I was born. I'm going to meet him soon. I heard the doctor tell my mom and dad. My dream is to know what to do when I meet him. Can you make that one come true? Love, Richie."
Mac saw the tear roll down her cheek and felt his own doing the same.
Tessa took a moment to gather herself then looked to Mac. "Mister McDennett, I want to make this dream come true. Will you help me tomorrow? It'll be an all day thing."
"That little boy is dyin'? Can't they save him?" Mac asked.
Tessa looked down. "Not even if I spent every cent I have. Captain Dave looked into the boy's condition, along with our nurses. There is nothing that can done now, except this last wish. I'm told he wants to go fishing. I'll provide you anything needed. Will you do this?"
Mac was in tears in now and nodded. "How could anybody say no? I'll take that young 'un fishing. I'll be his grandpa tomorrow; and every day he's got left."
"Thank you, Mister McDennett. I'll see you and Mister Malone at nine tomorrow morning." Tessa said then turned and left.
The next day, Zeke and Mac met with Tessa and her small contingent. They rode to the hospital. Two hours later the men left to take Richie fishing. Every evening after, Mac went to the hospital and read to him. Six days later Mac was called to Tessa's office. Richie's parents and night nurse were there. Little Richie went during the night.
"He smiled and told me it was time to go meet his real grandpa. He knew what to do now, thanks to you teaching him." The Nurse cried.
Mac wept and blamed himself. "It's my fault. If I hadn't done all that, maybe he'd still be here. Maybe he'd have held on?"
"NO SIR!" Danielle Willows exclaimed through her own tears. "You gave him something we couldn't! We'd have laid down and died for our boy to live. But that wasn't going to happen. We accepted that. We hate it with all we are, but we accepted it. You did the only thing that could be done. You made him happy and we thank you! The funeral is Sunday. Will you come and stand with us? He'd want you to be there."
Tessa knew this was going downhill fast and took command. "He'll be there! He won't be alone. Let me and my people make the arrangements. Prince Richie will be laid to rest with all the honors of a Royal. I swear it."
True to her word, as always, Tessa made good on her promise. The park closed early for it. A pavilion was set up in SnowyHill and Richie Willows' funeral was held there. One by one, the park cast and staff came up to the small ornate casket whispered quiet words of goodbye then shook hand with Darrel Willows and hugged Danielle. Finally the princesses came up.
"May your days be only fun and love, My Prince." Princess Michelle said then kissed her fingertips and touched his lips gently.
Princess Danica was next and gave her kiss the same way. "Enjoy sitting before clear blue water under a sky of billowing clouds that never rain, My Prince."
"Au revoir, cha. Sing, dance every angel you see; Mon Prince." Princess Nicole kissed her fingertips and touched his forehead, lips then beside each eye.
Tessa leaned down, whispered and kissed his forehead then turned. "Captain. Prince Richie is ready now."
Dave turned and ordered. "BEARERS, ATTEN-TION! MAKE READY THE PRINCE!"
Six men in full Armour came along the sides and stood waiting as the lid was closed securely. On his order they lifted and then marched out, carrying the casket and slid it into a black enclosed carriage. The hearse had been made at Dave's suggestion for use at veterans' funerals. It was pulled by a team of six black horses. An open black carriage was in line behind it, for the family to ride in. Behind them were all four royal carriages with mounted escorts.
People came out and lined the streets to see the procession pass. Quickly they realized it was the funeral they had read about in that morning's paper and reacted. Those wearing hat's took them off, girls and women of all ages curtsied. Many of the younger boys figured they should follow the girls' example and bowed. VentureRealm's first Prince was laid to rest an hour later. Two days later, Tessa introduced Mac to the local children's home.
"These children have no grandfather. Some have never known one. You are still needed, Mister McDennett. Will you help?" Tessa asked.
Ol' Mac nodded and walked forward. Within seconds he was surrounded by kids trying to hug him. Once more, Tessa had saved him.
Soon, summer ended and children returned to school. However, locals still came every day and some from not far away drove in for the weekends. For Halloween, many of the children came that weekend in costume. For Thanksgiving Day, the park was actually closed. The chefs and their staff cooked in the main kitchens and had the food trucked out for Street Table and the shelters. The children's home brought over the kids for the day along with the staff's children to play and eat. The same with Christmas Day. On New Year's Eve at nine o'clock that night, the park officially closed for the season. However, a party was held for the staff and cast at the Ice Castle in SnowyHill.
The Princesses were excited, due to the fact that they were all leaving on January third to go have their final surgery. When they returned, they would be in charge while Tessa went for her own. During the party, at midnight, there was even fireworks to signify the start of the New Year. At one a.m. the party was winding down and people were preparing to leave for the dorm or home by a pair of rented buses driven by Zeke and Mark.
The Princesses had come up to stand with Tessa and hug her. They were about to go back down when soft piano music began then turned around in shock to hear her voice singing in a haunting tone.
"Love. Love, is a verb. Love is a DOING word. Fearless, on my breath." Tessa sang gently.
Everyone began to stare in wonder. Most that worked in the offices, especially close to hers, had been hearing the song off and on for sometime now. No one had guessed that it was actually her singing it, because she adamantly denied being any type of performer. Now she was standing front and center of the platform and singing for all to see and hear.
Tessa continued. "Gentle impulsion. shakes me; makes me lighter. Fearless on my, breath. Teardrop on the fire. Fearless on my, breath."
Nicole was amazed at the long gentle notes off the end that swept up to ring clear in the room and smiled as she whispered. "Oui, Mon Reine. This true you."
"Night, night of matter. Black flowers blossom. Fearless on my, breath. Black flowers, BLOSSOM. FEARless, on my brEATH! TEARdrop on the FIRE. FEARLESS on my BREATH!" Tessa sang strongly and added very powerful notes after the lyrics again.
None outside the office staff had heard the song sung this way before and were stunned. It was haunting and powerful.
Tessa started softly. "Water, is my eye. MOST faithful mirror! Fearless, on my breath. Teardrop on the fire, of a confession."
All three princesses had come to stand behind her with arms linked.
"FEARLESS on my, BREATH! MOST FAITHFUL MIRROR! Fearless on my, BREATH! TEARDROP ON THE FIRE! FEARLESS! ON MY! BREATH!" Tessa ended with all she had, drawing out the last note.
The entire park crew erupted into applause and Tessa curtsied to them. "Thank you. Enjoy the easy next months, they'll pass faster than we want. Goodnight."
With that, Tessa went back to her house. She would sleep like never before, the one true day she would be taking off. Her own work would never be done. Such was the life of VentureRealm's Queen, who's true kingdom didn't actually stop at the property line. It lay within the hearts and dreams of people, especially children, even if they would never meet or know Tessa Frost.