A Walk In the Park & Aya’s Finest Hour.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Professional, conscript, or volunteer, they all have run away from battle.
A Note on terminology and the metaphor of Cael's World
The terms Weave of Fate and 'Weave ' are interchangeable. Weave expresses the intersection ~ the sieve that all the possible futures entered to create what we perceive as this 'now'. Fate is the keeper of the sieve. The Present is what is happening right now. It is that infinitesimal which we interpret as Reality.
The Legend is what happens when the present is pulled back through the weave and becomes the past. It is called the Legend because, as the former presents fade into the past, they blur; each becomes less precise and more open to interpretations. (It is as if you were looking at one thing through a prism; as you shift your stance, what you see appears to change.) Within the Legend exist mystic creatures, divinities, demons, spirits, all the Paradises and Hells.
The Endless Black Sands is the final resting place for all failed legends. It is the place where all is forgotten until even former realities break down into the Black Sands. That Alal found a way to cheat this doom and retrieved Shammuramat, was truly remarkable; even though Fate 'balanced accounts' with him by sending Ajax and his war band along that path as well.
If you wonder how that was a balancing, consider this:
The only people Alal cares for (in his own brutal fashion) are Shammy, now Sakura, and his only true offspring in 5,000 years, Cáel.
Fate sent Ajax.
With Ajax available to test Cáel, how could Alal resist the temptation to place one of the planet's greatest killer on a collision course with both of his loves in order to test Cáel?
The Veil is a function of the Weave that protects sentient perception from perceiving the Weave and disguises the otherness of creatures of legend, unless they willingly allow themselves to be seen, which they usually do only so they can 'physically' interact with the Present. Some sentient minds, through horrific trauma such as the Augurs' self- poisonings, through the quirks of Fate via Holy Men, Mad Prophets and Doomsayers such as Temujin, or through the touch of legends such as Ishara, can sense the fluctuations in the Veil and the things behind it. Cáel, in truth, has been shaped by all three vehicles (Ishara, the Augurs and Temujin's legend.)
Oblivion is what awaits Reality if the Weave ever fails beyond its ability to heal itself. This threat is what keeps the creatures of legend from constantly traversing the Weave. They have to weaken the Weave to do so or to use powers in Reality, the greater the distortion they create, the greater the weakening that occurs.
End Note
(Two days ago, with thirty days left)
"That was fantastic, Lady Yum-Yum," I sighed.
"What did you just call me?" she panted softly. We were naked in one of our Task Force bedrooms that was actually used for sleeping, and now sex. I was still pressed against her reposed body, despite our recent exertions. She was on her stomach, arms stretched down her sides.
She was sweaty and short of breath. She still had her wits about her and an awareness of our situation: victory sex, me still aroused and her fingernails scratching my thighs and buttocks. My equally sticky body was pressing down on her, even though I supported my weight with outstretched hands placed on either side of her shoulders.
"Lady Yum-Yum," I mumbled as I kissed the back of her head. "That was the first thing that sprang to mind when you introduced yourself." I could see her working that through her highly complex mind.
"When writing your memoirs, please remember to me refer to me that way," she began to flex her thighs and abdominal muscles, so that her ass was pumping against my hips.
"Only if this helps persuade you to give me a repeat performance."
"I'll consider,," she purred, then paused to catch her breathe. "You are in phenomenal shape, young man. Do any of your other lady-loves have pet names?"
"Nope," I grunted as I withdrew.
She had teased me with anal sex hints repeatedly, yet never delivered. She liked the game and the power she wielded. My body being on top of hers was only an illusion of a tactical advantage. She knew me pretty well already. I wasn't the kind of guy who would use physical strength to overwhelm her vulnerable position. This being so, a cerebral skirmish only excited her more.
We waged a war that was based on intakes of breath, the shimmying of muscles and the trembling of fatigued flesh. The prize for me was the winning. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke played tricky-clever, but I was better. And at times like this, she admitted it. She gave me what I wanted. I rolled her.
Straight, face-to-face fucking. The Lady's pulsar gaze trapped my vision. She smiled, grudgingly at first, then more and more sensually as my glans returned to her g-spot that it had scouted out earlier. This was 'surrender by the Fathom method'. She gave me what I wanted, so I took what I wanted, and pleasured her at the same time.
"Mmm, you are a bad, bad boy," she lapsed into her trashy West-End Londoner accent. It was perfect and an erotic whiplash when added to her native, refined manner of speech. This wasn't a trick this time, it was a treat. It was a gift, reciprocated. The tactile sensation of her cervix becoming a soft, spongey chalice for my final penetrations was icing on an all-so-luscious cake.
I tendered her a tribute worthy of my first love, Dr. Kimberly Geisler. It was strange to find a woman like her. Outside of Kimberly, I had found only one other woman who graciously offered her ultimate pleasure paean to the hundreds of lovers who had become before. That other woman, it still floored me, was Buffy Du, no, Buffy Ishara, First of my House.
"Oh!" and several heartbeats later, "Cáel!" several hissed series of breathes and then, "Goddess! You are better than good!"
Two thoughts collided within me:
A) I had never seen a more controlled orgasmic explosion in my life. I was going to have to tell Buffy about this, once we were safely in bed. If it was office talk, she'd punch me through a window and that would make Aya cry. I couldn't have that.
B) Goddess? I thought she was Anglican. This needed further study. This treatment was really nice. I leaned in, kissed her. Lady Yum-Yum smiled. "Take me to the shower. Play time is over, Cáel," and she was back to all business.
"You are treating me like a fleshy vibrator," I pointed out.
"But you are a very finely-trained, fleshy vibrator, you wonderful boy," she stroked my cheek. "Shower! Now!" So, like a Good Boy, International Merchant of Death and Chosen Son of a Divine Amazon Goddess, I slid off her, then cradled her in my arms as I rose from our totally trashed mattress.
I didn't smile when it was confirmed that I wasn't carrying her out of any romantic after-coitus gesture. She couldn't walk. Woot! It took a bit of effort to get us into the walk-in shower and to get the water just perfect, all while keeping her cradled. She helped out by keeping her arms tightly around my neck.
"Cheeky bastard," she whispered in my ear. "You are gloating." Then she nibbled on my earlobe for good measure.
"Damn right," I did gloat as I let her slide down to her feet. "You are pretty sweet for an Old Chick." She wasn't angry, oh no.
"If you were trying to get me to say, 'I'll get you next time," she licked, nipped and sucked on my nipple as if I was the one with the mammaries in this relationship, "it worked." Double-Woot! I was going to get that damn four-way! I did coax a vigorous shower-quickie out of my Lady. Afterward, she shifted herself so she could get under one of the steaming showerheads.
"Cáel, why didn't you use a condom," she mused. Gak!
"You aren't on Birth Control?" I panicked. She laughed at me.
"No. I've never been a fan of hormones replacement. I like the way I am. Do you expect the women to do all the anti-pregnancy measures?"
"No," I gulped.
"Don't' be so worried," she laughed. "We had unprotected sex one time. The odds are astronomical that an 'oops' happened, right?" Yes, it was a single sexual encounter, but included three firings of the one-eyed hydra, sigh.
"You are asking a man who has five children on the way, Fathom," I cautioned her.
"Oh, I'll update my files and make an appointment to seen a local, reliable O B G Y N," she slipped back into her unflappable British resolve. "Get along. I need to get cleaned up," she cupped my scrotum, ", again. So scoot." I scooted.
I had updated my condom supply despite the forbiddance Dot Ishara, my Matron Goddess, beamed to me from the Other Side. She could only complain so much. I'd upped my selection of fortune cookies and added a fresh raisin chocolate brownie for my next visit with her. I had to get over to the other side of the floor to get a fresh shirt, and boxers.
Yum-Yum had ripped off my shirt (a little kinky) and boxers (a little painful). I wasn't going commando, so I decided to quick step it before something important happened that required me to yank yet another solution out of my sexually-fueled creative imagination.
How Lady Yum-Yum and I ended up in bed
The Secret Societies' long awaited war had begun in Africa and in India. The Amazons couldn't effectively reinforce these two homeland regions. No, my people's edge came from my stupid stunts (e.g., the fight outside that club in Chicago), the judicious application of a few kind words and a whole lot of targeted killing on my part along with that of my Amazons.
Those actions convinced the Booth-gan (aka the Thuggee, but we no longer say that because it irritates them) and the Coils of the Serpent to toss in their lot with their local Amazons. They did the whole 'hostage exchange' thing as well. Two children from each side. That was a no-brainer on my part. All three concerned parties were willing to let their adults die if necessary. Their children were another matter.
In Asia, the Seven Pillars had made only minimal progress. We now suspected the 7P had planned to roll over the three of the 9 Clans that were in their Sphere of Influence, the now 6 Ninja Families, the Black Lotus and the Booth-gan in rapid succession. A preemptive strike against both the Khanate and the Ninja were supposed to cripple those two factions.
Against the Khanate, that had been a dismal failure. In Nippon, the Ninja were in dire straits and would be decades recovering from the original 7P blitz. But the combination of US black ops help and the infusion of Amazons and Okinawans had staved off extinction for the moment. Strategically, these failed actions were tying down 7P resources that the largest Secret Society had planned to move elsewhere.
In China, the Black Lotus exhibited the same resilience and deceptiveness they'd shown in combating the Seven Pillars by themselves for the past 65 years. The chaos gripping the PRC was a blessing from the Ancestors, the four sacred spirits (lung/dragons, phoenix, unicorn and tortoise), and the nine entities (I now really had to know this stuff.) Word that a 'dragon' had appeared in the West had only heightened their desire to aid in our new alliance.
Those factors meant a reprieve for India. As the 7 Pillars began ramping up their operations; increasing racial tensions, minor terrorist action and military and industrial sabotage; the Booth-gan and Amazon united resources and purpose. The Booth-gan would assassinate 7P operatives and pawns while the Amazons would hit 7P front companies and businesses based out of the People's Republic of China. (This activity also helped ratchet up India-PRC tensions and anti-PRC public sentiment in India.)
In Africa, the Condotteiri had squandered precious hours reallocating resources before launching their assaults. Like everyone but the 7P, they had been caught flat-footed by the renewal of the Secret War. The Coils of the Serpent had never been overly antagonistic toward the Condos, since their interests rarely collided. The same went for the Coils and the Amazons.
Two factors inspired a deep Amazon-Coil bond. They were both groups with deep African roots and a shared Central-Western African spirituality. Added to that was the growing power of the Coils of the Serpent in the past fifty years. Their main opponents had been the Illuminati who had a Eurocentric view. Pan-Africanism was in the Coil's best interest, but ran contrary to European economic interests.
Long term, allying with the African Amazons was a good investment for the Coils. The 9 Clans relationships had already proved to be advantageous on multiple occasions in the past. The leaders of the Coils knew their power was rising with the fortunes of Sub-Saharan Africa. To them, the rise of the PRC and the Seven Pillars was a looming threat in the East.
They had been handed a golden opportunity to deal with this enemy before the enemy was ready to deal with them. They had been 'gifted' with over 2000 highly-skilled, fanatical Amazon warriors as stealthy muscle to add to their own, more subtle arsenal. For the Amazons, it was access to continent wide clandestine intelligence network that could unmask their enemies' hiding places.
The Condotteiri wiped out an Amazon freehold in Cameroon and a few Coils safe houses in Lagos, Nigeria. In the Republic of Mali, over 250 Condo mercenaries were slaughtered at a 'secret' installation and their armory was looted. Ebola kept breaking out in the West. The dominant regional powers, the Republic of the Congo and Nigeria, were tottering as a result of decades of economic mismanagement, civic, ethnic, tribal and religious strife, corruption and unreliable militaries.
The scene was ripe for a secret conflict as well as public carnage. For the Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce (JIKIT), this presented a dilemma. They were involved with a growing global struggle that went far beyond the Khanate and Central Asia. Their secret society allies strenuously objected to bringing any more 'outsider' people into the group.
Handing over covert intelligence to other governmental agencies in the US and UK, then telling them they wouldn't divulge their sources went over like scuba diving with cement goulashes. Explaining to upper level bigwigs that they had a 'trust-based' team went nowhere. Those officials didn't care about a bunch of domestic/international criminals' sensibilities.
They wanted names and faces. They wanted addresses, phone taps and bank account numbers. It would all be 'Secret', 'Top Secret', or 'Eyes Only'. It would all be vulnerable to all kinds of governmental subpoenas too. No threats were made from 'my' side. They'd killed more people than the Black Death and the lives of a few thousand bureaucrats (and their families) in London and Washington D.C. didn't mean shit to them.
Selena did offer to kidnap some family members to get the message across. Javiera put her hands over her ears and began singing 'la-la-la' as she stormed out of the room. Lady Fathom suggested that we arrange a private meeting with the UK Prime Minister and the US President. It took a few seconds for Mehmet and Javiera to realize she wasn't kidding.
That was a nearly impossible task, which on this taskforce meant we had to give it a shot. Let's just say that the US Attorney General, Eric Holder and Chairman John Jay of the British Joint Intelligence Committee thought their respective representative had lost her God-damn mind. I went to the Khanate for help.
Twenty-four hours later Azerbaijan, Turkey, Tajikistan, Armenia and Georgia (yes, two tiny Christian nations) joined the Khanate. The integration of the first two nations had been in the works since the formation of the Turkic Council in 2009. For me, Temujin upped the time table strictly for our benefit. Turkey and Azerbaijan became the two newest states within the Khanate.
The third, Tajikistan was different and the shakiest addition. The unoccupied title of 'Khwarazm Shah' was created, suggesting the Iranian Tajiks had a special status inside the Khanate. 'Khwarazm' referenced the Khwarazmian dynasty that ruled the last of the great, Persian-led, Iranian Super-States and dated back to the 13th century AD. 'Shah' was Persian for King.
The announced status of Armenia and Georgia was quite a bit different. They become 'Protectorates', i.e., semi-autonomous states within the Khanate who were 'vassal' states, responsible only to the Great Khan and his personal representative in the region (ah, that would be me.)
So, the first three entries made sense, strong geographic, ethnic and/or religious ties, plus this was part of the Khanate's agenda anyway. But Armenia and Georgia? That was the doing of the other regional secret society, the Hashashin.
The Caucasus Mountains were the backyard of the Hashashin. They knew who to blackmail, pinch and kill to make the 'take-over' possible. The main stumbling block was the long Khanate-Hashashin history: the Mongols had destroyed the historical stronghold of the Hashashin, Alamut, in 1256 CE. In a way, that disaster had transformed the sect, making it move away from their strict Nizārī Ismaili roots and into a more ethnically and religiously diverse group that was centered in the Caucasus region.
Temujin made it clear to this group that he was making a deal under my auspices. Both Armenia and, Georgia (as well as the future Kurdistan, his plans for the creation of that last state were told to me under condition of secrecy) would be part of my palatinate principality (along with Hungary, if we ever got there). Riki Martin defined the terms for me: I was the voice of those three regions in the Khan's court.
They wouldn't have to deal with Muslim Khanate officials. They would deal with me and 'my officials'. If the Khanate had a problem with my principality, they came to me to resolve the issue. That translated to me giving a nod to the existing regimes ruling in Armenia and Georgia (along with the infusion of a few Hashashin supporters.)
Publically the future of those three political and ethnic entities would be confirmed later. The existing governments knew three things.
1) I was that madman who had led the charge in Romania, clearly a man of bravery and humility. The odds were good that I was going to be a man they could rely on to adequately represent their interests with the government that currently mattered the most (aka The Khanate.)
2) The Great Khan thought the world of me and in this nascent New World Order that meant way more than membership in NATO, or begging the United Nations to apply sanctions of dubious value.
3) There would be a change of leadership by about 2040. Children of excellent ethnic parentage would succeed me in this ceremonial role in the region. These new princes and princesses would be the scions of the line of Nyilas and representatives of the various states (translation: I was going to be sexing it up with Georgian, Armenian and Kurdish members of the Hashashin).
That would establish the three 'cadet' branches of House Ishara (Nyilas) (which I've listed because all three alphabets are so freaking beautiful) that could weave the Amazons, 9 Clans and the varying ethnic identities into a quilt that could stand together as a force in the Great Khan's inner circle. This new spate of aristocratic, 'Archer'-themed lineages would be:
1. Moisari, in Georgia.
2. Aġeġnajig, in Armenia.
3. Ram- alsham, in Kurdistan.
This fiction made the key named entities happy. The combination of all these events applied another jolt to the heart of the global power structure (after all, Turkey was in NATO) and made the US and UK governments back off.
By tidying up the world map, we'd brought our governmental chiefs to the chilling revelation that their sole conduit for insider information regarding the ongoing global calamity had reacted to their intransience by simply letting them be blind-sided by events. After the fact, Javiera and Lady Fathom relayed that message very clearly.
This wasn't 'bargaining with terrorists', or blackmail. This was a reminder that the secret societies didn't have to work with the allied governments if they didn't want to. Our elected leaders still wouldn't agree to high-level talks.
They didn't stop asking for full-access either. What they did do was make those requests 'pro forma', with Javiera being allowed to 'prioritize' the handling of requests, which was bureaucratic-ese for they were covering their asses ('See, I gave instructions that our representative should forcefully raise this demand at the most appropriate moment') and thus dumping all the heat on Javiera when the inevitable Congressional investigation happened. It amazed me how 'my' bureaucrats were selflessly throwing away their professional aspirations for the sake of a nation that could never know what crimes they were committing on their nation's behalf.
None of that led to my current, surprisingly happy, circumstances. No, my most recent new experience was bought with the death of two members of the Black Lotus, two Gurkha and one member of the British SAS. They had been members of the two teams sneaking around the PRC looking for Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, the 11th Panchen Lama.
They had found the guy, killed his guardians and then whisked him and his family away to a Chinese military base. Those five team members had died stealing a PLA Harbin Z-9B helicopter. The other three members of the teams flew their packages over to the PLA/Khanate battle lines and delivered him to the lead elements of the closest Tumens. Disorder was the watchword of the day in Tibet.
JIKIT operators were coordinating Khanate drone and air strikes on the Chinese military and paramilitary formations. Independence fever was in the air and any Tibetan with a grudge and violent inclinations was taking out his or her wrath on the isolated Chinese troops. Lhasa, the capital, was in chaos.
Already radio and TV stations in the city were declaring a Free Tibet and a general uprising. The Dali Lama was in Katmandu, Nepal. Nepalese helicopter pilots, familiar with flying over the Himalayas were prepped and ready to fly him and the Government in Exile to Lhasa the moment they got the 'All Clear' from the Khanate land forces. That was why I was getting laid.
(Current time)
I exited my temporary love nest, freshly showered and in a thigh-length white robe, only to discover five Amazons, either House Heads or 'Apprentices', waiting there to see me. Gathered there were Beyoncé of Hanwasuit, Arwen of Epona, Oneida of Arinniti, Kohar of Marda and Febe, the Head of House Mielikki. Their unease, while concealed, was tickling at my senses.
"Hello," I walked over to the mini-bar for a grapefruit juice.
Odette opened the door leading to the main office area, Odette? WTF?
"Sorry, Boss," she grinned. "Buffy wanted to,"
"Odette!, excuse me one second, my Sisters," I addressed my fellow members of the Council. "Odette, what are you doing here? I told you that you couldn't get involved in these troubles."
"I know," she grinned. "Pamela hired me as her 'Girl "Celebration Day" (aka Friday); whatever that means."
Of course Odette didn't know the Amazon Mother Tongue and Pamela wasn't teaching Odette it, thus not breaking any Amazon laws.
"What are your duties?"
"I'm the taskforce's Morale Officer. Apparently Havenstone is paying me handsomely too."
I groaned, rubbed my forehead which Odette took as her cue to leave.
"Oh, Buffy wanted you to know that some important Amazons were here to see you," she gave me a parting gift before the door shut.
"So, my Sisters, what can I do for you?" I addressed my audience. If it was sex, I still had seven good shots left in me. Beyoncé , my second longest running ally, stepped forth to address the issue.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara, I and other of your allies have become worried about the issue of the scheduled hunt that is supposed to take place at the end of your internship," she stated. "We are wondering if you would now view this hunt as 'inappropriate,' since you are now the acknowledged Head of a First House and our Chief Diplomat?" she stabbed at the heart of the matter. This surprise wasn't all that bad, since I had already considered that very question.
"My Sisters I can answer that better if we step aside from our offices and titles and speak as simple warrior-sisters. Can we?" I asked.
The Amazons looked at one another. "Of course Cáel," Oneida piped up before a true consensus was reached. I gave the others a chance to protest. When they didn't,
"Good, I actually have given this a great deal of thought myself," I began. "As I see things, I can't embrace prestige without sacrifice, or integrity without reverence. I made a commitment within a week of being here, jokingly I admit, to be hunted. That myth has taken on a life of its own, and that is my fault. I feel I must keep to this hasty pledge because I am Ishara and my house must maintain oaths, even to the death."
"That is my first concern, that I honor my ancestors, who I also think, would appreciate an oath made in jest and then kept in sisterly solidarity with the rest of the Host. I also think it will be fun for everybody. We are in for a tough time in this war and it falls to each of us to do what we can, "
"You do so much already," Kohar blurted out. Since we were 'outside' our official status there was no insult.
"Kohar, none of us can do too much for the Host. All of you have taught me that. Sometimes painfully and sometimes with passion, but always giving me something that's made me a better person. If I can do something to inspire our People, I am willing to risk it. Then there is, Hayden."
"Hayden, Katrina and Tessa have all put a great deal of faith in me at some point in my career at Havenstone, risking and even losing their lives. I owe a debt to them and the New Directive. I owe it to the members who supported it. Finally," I sighed then grinned, "this is something the men of Havenstone have that is our own."
Five startled looks faced me.
"You see us as being hunted. I see it as a chance for men to prove we can be just as resourceful as our Amazon sisters," I explained. "This won't stop with me, and Felix. From this September on, a handful of men will pit their wits and skills against the best the Host has to offer. The men who succeed will be valued. Even if any are eventually captured, they still will have proven their bravery.
"You think of the men as prey. That is normal for you. I see this as being an important chance at change that you will not give men in any other way. There aren't going to be any other males resurrecting Dead Houses. How can men then gain your acceptance and respect? The Hunt. It won't be demeaning to us because the Head of House Ishara has done it as well.
"If a House Head does not find it demeaning, it isn't. If I don't keep my word and do this, there will be no more Great Hunts. All we'll have is yet another declaration of Amazon superiority over all male-kind. What's in it for us men? Even if they stay free, you still won't respect them. I cannot be disrespected while I keep the faith with the Host."
"When I win, I will set the hallmark for the next Hunt and the next," I smiled. "See?"
"You can't really believe you are going to win?" Febe tried not to sound too incredulous.
"Why not?" I laughed. "I'm going to cheat like a Mother-fucker." They didn't know what to make of that.
"Ladies, I'm racking up favors with people back from the dead, Goddesses and gaining the best on-the-job training Fate can provide. I'm going to kick ass."
"That's cheating!" Arwen exclaimed.
"Why?" I teased her. "There are no rules for hunting a House Head for recreational sport that I'm aware of."
"This is my baby and you bitches are going to learn that this is going to be as much a mental challenge as physical. I'm cheating because that is the Amazon way. You have been looking at this as if I'm some outsider male who's not protected by your Laws and not as a tool I can use against you all."
"Damn, " Arwen muttered. "Katrina told me this was a Fool's Errand. I thought you were the fool and now it seems we are. I am, impressed Cáel Ish, Wakko Ishara." Lady Yum-Yum, still drying her hair, strolled out of the bedroom, ignored everyone else and walked up to me. She wrapped a hand around my head, grabbed a handful of hair on the back of my head and then pulled me down for a French Revolution Kiss, the kind you could lose your head over.
"Hurry up," she smiled after she came up for air. "We have an intelligence briefing on Iran in fifteen minutes." And then she left without a word to my guests. I understood that. The Amazon Council refused to talk with our allies, choosing to operate through myself and Katrina. She was merely returning their snobbery (in her opinion).
"Cáel, who is that?" Oneida was clearly perturbed.
"One of our allies, British, I think and a Hell-cat in the sack," I sighed happily with the intent to incense my young lover. "I've got to keep my sexual skills honed to a razor's edge because I know I'm not going to beat you ladies with either my outdoor skills or animalistic cunning."
"How was he?" Javiera asked in a conversational tone from the other room.
"Fantastic," Yum-yum exulted. "You two are a fool for keeping him at bay. Now, where can I get my next victory? I'm already plotting out my strategy for round two in the bedroom. I'm not going to let him come out on top of me next time." The closing door shut off the possible responses.
"You look tired," Febe noted. It wasn't an insult, or an aside to my recent sexual adventure. She was noting my energy was waning and that an emotional fugue was taking hold.
"We are fighting a war," I shrugged. "I'll gladly lose hours of sleep to save my sister's lives."
"You are not us," Beyoncé said somewhat sadly.
Again, it wasn't an insult. Every woman in this room with me could have kicked my ass at every step of my life, until the last two months. Even then, the odds were that the best I could do was make them pay for their victories.
"You have been fighting your own private war for fifty-two days," Beyoncé stepped up and offered me her arm.
We clasped in the way of the Sisterhood.
"From the second day among us, you fought both Rhada and Madi, and won, three times," Kohar stated. She had been there for the fight, but who was the third.
"Third?"
"When you went to Europe, Katrina gave us a full briefing on the interactions between you and her: when you knew, what the two of you talked about that Tuesday night," Febe grudgingly admitted.
"Coming back to work was stupid. If I had to been in your shoes, I would have made a run for it," Arwen added.
"No you wouldn't," I toasted in Arwen's direction. "As an Amazon, you fight to survive," I said after a long draw on the glass. "If I ran, I could not win. Katrina would have been punished, the New Directive would have died and the Host would have been doomed."
"What about hitting that little button and making every Amazon dead that you mentioned at the Archery range," Beyoncé reminded me.
"That hasn't changed. I still think you are barbaric, hateful savages who murder your offspring and the sires of your children," I explained. "Had I run, I would have been just as bad as the rest of you. I would have sanctioned the murders of the innocent. I wasn't absolutely sure, until the Thursday, but all that really did was confirm what I already knew in my guts."
"Now you are the Head of a House and holder of a high office," Febe questioned, "so why do you feel we are misguided? You have done nothing to change our ways."
"Bitch," I chuckled. Febe bristled slightly. "I've been in this job for how many days? Besides, all the past few weeks have done is prove me right."
"How so?" Oneida was edging in. For Pete's Sake, she might have well stripped naked, tied a red ribbon around her belly, stuck bows on each tit and worn a Santa's Helper Hat with a bright neon sign over head proclaiming 'Open Before Christmas'.
"Your Ash Man isn't going anywhere, Oneida," I caressed her cheek.
"How so?" I returned to Oneida's question. "Ladies, I am not only right, but I've been right and you've been wrong every day since the Second Betrayal. It was a betrayal alright, but it was your loyal males who were betrayed and that is a disease that has been eating at the Host for 2,500 years."
That shut them up. Not only had the Keeper of the Records said so, but so had the Goddesses and, in a way, Hayden's passing had only added to the weight of Amazon sins.
"Thank you for coming by to discuss this with me. And one day I hope you understand how thankful and honored you have made me feel by all five of you being here," I grinned.
"I may not be a 100% Sister yet, but you have shown me a degree of respect that was impossible for any of you three months ago. I am humbled and honored. Please don't take this the wrong way. The Host has completely changed my life. I think that coming here today, you have shown that I have changed you."
"Oh," Febe looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Cáel, by August 17th, the entirety of the Amazon male breeding population will have been put down. No one has stopped the process." The glass dropped out of my hand. Of course not. I had been so busy thinking I was making a difference, winning my own little battles, I had not asked them to stop sending the trains to Auschwitz.
Monstrous Reminders
Two days later, I had been exiled from the team. Honestly, they really could spare me from the goings on. Our people on the ground in Tibet were working with Hana, finishing the details on the planned meeting between the Dali Lama and Temujin. It would be the first public appearance of the Great Khan. The world had never seen his face before. Now he was going to put a human face; a young, energetic Mongolian face; to his crusade.
I had pleaded to any Amazon who would listen that the Council be immediately summoned from their working groups in order to meet on the matter of the executions of the males. Finally the Golden Mare allowed me fifteen minutes at the 7 am meeting the next day. That was appropriate, it was all the time any of the House Heads were allowed.
I debated late into the night with Buffy and Helena on who would be better to present our case. I wanted Buffy because she was a woman and I'd use any aspect of political advantage to gain those males a reprieve. Three hours before the meeting, Buffy and I agreed that my passion would mean more than her bosom.
Hearing my appeal was the first order of business before the Council. I spoke for fifteen minutes in what I hoped would be the most eloquent, stirring speech I'd ever given. I politely stopped when given the signal that my time was up. A call was made to debate the issue. Messina gave the rebuttal: 'The council couldn't overturn the decision of a High Priestess unless an overriding concern for the Host was evident.' (Concern meant 'Amazons were in danger of dying')
No one else spoke. A vote was called. Not one member voted in my favor. I, of course, could not vote. I knew politically why Katrina and Beyoncé hadn't voted my way. The Law was the Law; and bucking the traditions while a war was ramping up wasn't prudent. I was even shown sympathy by several members. They weren't concerned for their males. No, I was one of 'them' now and my distress bothered them.
I stood there for forty-five minutes. I couldn't sit down. I had given them my word. Tears? None came. I don't recall what was discussed. When the meeting adjourned, Shawnee addressed me before Buffy could make it to my side. "Are you seeing spirits, Cáel Wakko Ishara?" Shawnee asked softly.
I looked at her and then the tears came. I am told that that by a trick of the light, my silver tears looked like a weak trail of blood down my cheeks. I was powerless and I felt like a hypocrite. Here I was bleeding for Amazon lives, bleeding for the lives of our allies in our joint struggle, yet in this Council, I couldn't even make them understand the basic concepts of humanity and brotherhood.
I was angry. I wasn't angry with them. I was angry at myself for not remembering who they were and that we were all prisoners of their twisted ideology. I had deluded myself into thinking they were any different at their core. I turned away from Shawnee. Several of the SD were watching me warily. I was armed, acting irrationally and had killed Ajax the Unconquered, or so they believed.
A hundred insults boiled forth in my mind. I had some goodies. I knew what these bitches valued and I knew ways to verbally stab at them. Amazons had no honor. They were survivors and because of that, they expected me to let go of this insane deviation from their society. The Golden Mare was the first to stand in my way. Buffy hovered, cloaked in her own fury, behind me.
"Ishara, are you well?" she asked, in Hittite. I had to think about that and bite down on the stupid comebacks that would mean nothing to any of them.
"You are my Golden Mare, Saint Marie. I will follow you into battle and die if I must," I gulped through my tears. "I swear to you, if I die first, know I will be waiting for you in the halls of our Ancestors. If you die first, know I will not forget this and prepare yourself for me. Because if I have not found forgiveness in my heart, I will hand you my hate,, with interest," I pledged.
"Restrain yourself, Ishara," she ordered.
In English I added; "You are correct, Golden Mare," I swallowed my rage.
"Good," she nodded.
"Yes. I need to restrain myself. I need to get with the program because, Dot Ishara knows, I've been shirking my responsibilities up til now. I know what I need to do. I need to feel like a true Amazon; the warrior breed with the blood of the Ahhiyawa on our hands."
"Mine is fresher than most and that is the problem. I need to get back to the real 'us' because going facing to face with the Ahhiyawa has definitely confused me over the true fighting spirit of the Host that I have just been reacquainted with. I need to go out and kill helpless old people and infants."
"I'm sure that will help me strengthen my solidarity with all my Sister and be one of the team once more." I replied in a patently false-reasonable voice. "Don't worry. I will only kill those who have no value to the Host."
"Correct yourself," she growled.
"I hear and obey, Golden Mare," I sniffed. "I was the one who forgot that it is the duty of every Amazon to strangle tiny newborn boys with their umbilical cords and butcher the males they no longer have a need for ~ you know; the helpless old people," I laid on a different interpretation of their own, sick practices.
"While I'm getting back to our roots, I will hopefully find a clearer perspective on the last 317, beasts; those who are waiting to fulfill their own role in our great tradition. I will think of them, in their stalls, or cages, or wherever it is you keep them. I will think of them, looking up to you as you enter their tiny little world.
"They will expect food, perhaps a look on your faces that tells them they have done well today and they have made you happy. They will expect you to give them orders, because you allow them nothing else to look forward to. Sometime in the next four days, you will come to these beasts who trust you for every aspect of their survival and you will lead them to some place of disposal and slit their throats.
"You will let them fall to the ground and bleed out. I am curious how many of them will look up at you and wonder what they did wrong to make you that upset with them. They will blame themselves while you patiently wait for their hearts to finish pumping blood out those severed arteries. After that happens, you will dismember them. You will burn the parts. Then you will bury the bone shards and ashes in a trash heap.
"For them, there is no Afterlife, no cliffs, no ancestors. Their souls will awaken all alone in the Black Sands. For most of them it will be the first time in their lives they have ever been truly alone, They will be scared because they love you and they will want to know what horrible thing they did for you to leave them here alone.
"If there is a blessing, it is that you have not reciprocated a single ounce of their love, or given them no reason to exist without you so they will soon be ground down into the sands they will so briefly trod upon. Then, they will have never been. They will not be remembered. I am sure that by the end of that introspection, I, I don't know how will feel then, Golden Mare.
"What I do know is that on August 18th, I will be the only one who has a chance of feeling different about what hasn't been done here today." I was still successfully fighting back my true cyclone of emotions.
"How could someone like you kill Ajax?" she shook her head.
"Because none of you could," I frowned. "Because for the past 2500 years, the Host has forsaken the sole prerequisite necessary to, "
"Shut up," Saint Marie glared. "Weep elsewhere. We have work to do."
"I weep for Charlotte, " I replied.
"Like any one here believes that," she growled, and then everyone around me had their guns out. Saint Marie's wasn't pointed at me. It was pointed past my right elbow. Buffy.
"Buffy, what have I told you about, " I sighed.
"Buffy Ishara, lower your weapon right now," one of the SD chicks behind me threatened.
"Cáel, she, "
"Weapon, down, now," I commanded without looking back at her. By the relaxed stance of one of the SD Amazons, Buffy had complied.
"Take her into custody," Saint Marie said as she kept her gun pointed at Buffy.
I didn't protest, pout, or threaten a work stoppage. My words would be useless; they didn't understand my tears and I was the Head of House Ishara and Chief Diplomat of the Host, not a self-indulgent prima donna. I believed both Saint Marie and Buffy expected me to say something.
"Cáel, she called you a liar," Buffy protested. By the grunts I heard, she was already being restrained.
"Buffy, didn't it occur to you that, despite consistently proving her ignorance of men's emotions in general and being prejudiced against me in particular, the Golden Mare must have been divinely inspired to suddenly know precisely what was on my mind?" I inquired. Sorrow and fury were not the weapons for this task. Mockery was.
"I will let you know what fate I have decided for your Apprentice," Saint Marie deigned to inform me. She gave me a dismissive wave of the head.
"Buffy, you should have never believed that that woman's personal opinion of me matters to House Ishara in the slightest," I announced without turning around. "She doesn't have our pedigree."
"I apologize," Buffy responded (to me). I'd tossed her an 'atta girl' in a way that Saint Marie couldn't acknowledge as insulting, though it clearly was. The Amazons of House Ishara, to a woman, were all former-Runners.
They loved being members of a First House of the Host, yet they all felt it was a reward for years of struggle and exemplary service, not something that had been handed to them as a birthright. We had turned our weakness, being born outsiders, into our unifying strength. We felt worthy of our honors. Having been dismissed, I took the opportunity leave without further complications.
Katrina was waiting for me at one of the elevators. She warned the others off, indicating she wanted a private chat with her most notorious intern. The elevator opened. Katrina stepped in and I followed. Nothing was said. She made a quick call and said three unrelated words. She waited for a confirmation before hanging up. Our conversation wouldn't be monitored, or recorded.
"Cáel, I know you are upset and you are disappointed in us," Katrina forced me to look into her eyes. "As someone who cares for you and considers you a friend, I am advising you to let this one go. You have done many incredibly good things and there is still much more you can accomplish. You have always known you can't win every fight."
"The important thing is that you stay in the fight. Please try?" she looked honestly upset. I had to think about that. I had spent much of my life 'letting things go'. I hadn't let things go with Rhada and Madi and look how much that had fucked up my life. I hadn't said 'no' to Rhada when I should have. Brooke, Casper. I'd been screwing the pooch big time by allowing myself to give a fuck about anyone else.
"Maybe Alal was right?" I whispered. "People want their needs met without sacrifice. They want to blame someone else for their misfortunes. They don't want to be held responsible for their own actions. There will always be wolves and there will always be sheep." he had told me when we parted in Rome.
"We have just left a chamber full of sheep, not wolves," I turned fully toward Katrina. "Like good little sheep, the leadership of the Amazon Host bleated the Party Line and refused to take responsibility for mass murder. They hid behind tradition, Katrina. They hid behind this absurd idea that there aren't other males out there who could be the next Cáel."
"Every man brought into Havenstone should be given the same opportunities each and every 'Runner' has. We all deserve a chance."
"That is bludgeoning a lie with another lie, Cáel. There is no 'other Cáel' out there. You are the last chance the Amazon Host has. Those men have been bred to be the opposite of you."
"When we feel we have passed our usefulness, we end our own existences. It is unfair to think we would keep useless, inbred males around out of some sense of a communal society we have never shared with them. You see this as an evil, callous and brutal gesture. We are an evil, brutal race that hasn't the luxury of being sentimental," Katrina counter-attacked. That she was capable of such unvarnished honesty was something I loved about her.
"We are the smallest Secret Society in the numbers we can bring to bear in a fight. We do not have an extensive network of proxies to work through. Our history, until today, has taught us to be lean in the compassion department. If you battle the past, you will get nowhere. Besides, you did do two thing of value today," she offered.
"You put the fate of our males and the responsibility for their deaths in our Records. Your protest was heard, Cáel. Yes, it was heard because it came from you, Cáel Wakko Ishara. No Amazon has protested the fate of males since the Second Betrayal. Today, someone did. You have to know that means something to us."
She was right, damn her. To the Amazons, they had allowed me my protest and it was infantile to think they did so to humor me. That wasn't there style. In their cold, heartless eyes, my proposal was worthy of 15 minutes of their time. A tiny number until you considered how much every minute mattered to them.
"What was the other thing?" I asked her.
"You kept to your oaths with us. You didn't even try to vote," she pointed out, "even though you clearly felt passionately about the issue. Amazons expect that from their fellow female Amazons. They are not used to expecting that from males."
I thought about that. In the Amazon mirror-view of society, men were the irrational half of the species, ruled more by passions and illogical aspirations, while Amazons (females) were the creatures of controlled, rational thoughts and actions.
"You also vocally reminded them that you are a man, not some bizarre icon from the Goddesses."
I had a few things beaten into my skull as well. I worked with monsters. Thanks to Katrina, I was also remembering why I did what I did for the Host:, Aya, Daphne, Yasmin, those three. Maybe Europa. Lorraine was a long shot. Oneida and Rhada, they were still their mother's daughters.
"Katrina, I apologize. You are right. Short of the sending House Ishara into battle against the other houses to rescue those men, I cannot save them. I cannot forget them. I am okay with hating you and all the others for your perpetuating this crime. I'm also okay believing that one day, I'll forgive the Host too.
"It is in my nature and I shouldn't let your crimes inspire so great a hate in me that it poisons my soul. You are still going to atone, Katrina, Head of House Epona," I bolstered my sense of the perverse that passed for strategic thinking. "I want you to retrieve Kwenhamai, Death Song, for me. I've decided I don't want the Amazons you consider virtuous. I want your Sinners. Make it happen."
When I returned to the taskforce, I garnered the same kind of worried stares I'd gotten at the Council meeting. At ten o'clock, Elsa gave me a ring. Saint Marie had decided on Buffy's punishment for her crimes: drawing a weapon on the War Leader, and drawing a weapon in the Council Meeting. They were going to sear her left eye socket with a hot poker.
That would allow her to remain a useful Amazon in my House while sending a strong reminder for Amazons to remain civil with one another. I was being informed because, as her House Head, I could appeal the ruling; to the Golden Mare, the one who had just passed judgment.
"Let me talk to the Boss," I requested. Elsa patched me through twenty seconds later.
"State your appeal," Saint Marie said in an unwelcoming voice. "It won't make a difference, but tradition is tradition."
"Immediately erase the incident in the Council Chambers between you and Buffy. I wanted it erased from the records. You must then repeal the punishment because it is now groundless. If you do that for me, I'll tell you how I killed Ajax. I'll even show you what I did," I offered. Pause.
"I am the War Leader of the Host, Ishara," Saint Marie heated-up even more. "You should be telling me this anyway."
"As Chief Diplomat, I only have to tell you, Katrina, or the Council something if it is of relevance to the Host. I deemed that the information wasn't relevant at the time," I countered. "I asked Pamela. She's really good with all your inbred ilk and your damn laws," I kept my voice steady. "Do we have a deal?" I could almost hear her teeth grinding.
"Very well, but don't think I will forget this," she seethed.
"Do I have your word that you will do as I requested for Buffy?" I double-checked.
"Yes, you have my word," Saint Marie snapped. "Now how did you kill Ajax?"
"I'll tell you," I relaxed. Pause.
"I'm waiting, damn you," she grumbled. "Let's get this over with. I have important work to do."
"I promised to tell you, Saint Marie," I got my measure of revenge. "I never said when I'd tell you though, so you might want to get back to that important work."
"You'll get Buffy back when you tell me," she snapped.
"Saint Marie, you gave me your word she would be released immediately," I explained. "While you failed to apply any time table to my side of the bargain," came the kicker.
"You violated the spirit of that oath. It is not binding," she simmered.
"I'm not going to bore you by rehashing the last time Amazons broke an Isharan Oath. I have been spiritually pure with this pledge that I tricked you into for a very good reason, Saint Marie. You are not an idiot and neither am I. You did call me a liar in public and you knew I wouldn't lash out, because you know I didn't give a flying fuck about your opinion of me. No, you knowingly insulted me in in English so that Buffy could understand," I said in a low, steely voice.
"You are more than a match for me as a tactician. As a provocateur, you are not in Katrina's league and she's the Amazon I rate myself against. You have never liked me. I'm fine with that. Taking it out on Buffy ~ don't do it again as it violates the spirit of our Oaths of Sisterhood," I reminded her. I could hear Saint Marie's tooth enamel cracking. "Do I have to call every other Head of House over this breach? I believe you've established that threatening to harm another Amazon officer in the Council chamber is punishable by the removal of the secondary eye."
"I am not afraid of pain, Cáel," she growled. "I am afraid that your deceptive ways will cause the Host irreparable harm." Considering she worked closely with the most deceptive woman I'd ever met, Katrina, I felt that was high praise indeed.
"Though I don't think you knew it at the time, Saint Marie, you chose me for your Chief Diplomat because I am a slippery fish. Most importantly, I am your slippery fish. Honest, trustworthy diplomats are very limited in their utility."
"I will honor my promise to you," she calmed down slightly. She was conceding the point that she'd chosen me for my untrustworthy ways. She had hoped I'd keep them focused on our enemies, not her.
"I will offer to step down if you desire," I added out of the blue. A few seconds passed.
"I want a time table for you telling me what happened to Ajax," she countered.
"When I get back from Brazil," I promised. "I'll tell you then."
"Why wait?"
"I'm still trying to figure out who the traitor inside the Host is," I answered. "Someone helped the Seven Pillars find our Summer Camp. Someone helped the Condotteiri find the Hylonome as well. Budapest and the fight on the Tisza were the Black Hand's fault and those two loose ends have been dealt with," I related my worries.
"Who do you suspect?"
"I'll have a better idea when I get to Brazil and see what kind of ambush they have waiting for us. The more they are prepared, the smaller the list gets," I said.
"You are knowingly walking into an ambush to find out what our foes know about us?" Saint Marie sounded caught unawares by both my cunning and my devotion to our cause.
"Can you think of a better way?"
"No, when you get back from Brazil?"
"Yes, I will keep my promise then," I reaffirmed. "I promise this to you as well, Saint Marie. If you come gunning for anyone else in House Ishara except me, you will never be able to prove that I arranged for a member of the 9 Clans to remove your daughter, That is not a petulant threat, Golden Mare. The only one acting vindictively against the current interests of the Host this morning was you. Since your own oaths don't seem to be constraining your behavior, I'm giving you my personal promise to consider before you deliberately strike at me through my House Isharan sisters again. Can we both get back to fighting the war now?"
"Katrina has poisoned your thinking, Cáel. Her threatening my offspring was as stupid for her as it is for you," she menaced.
"Parroting your words: 'Your arrogance' has poisoned your thinking of me, Saint Marie. Threatening my Buffy was stupid'.
"Your daughter deserves to be treated in the same manner as Buffy and vice versa," I explained. "I will extend to you my offer to replace me as Chief Diplomat. I'll leave quietly if you think you cannot work with me, or trust me to do the best job that can be done."
"No. Both you and Katrina are twisted mockeries of true Amazons," she sighed.
"You are also the right Amazons for the twisted tasks that need to be done. If you ever threaten my daughter again, I will deal with you personally and deal with the fallout when it comes," she cautioned.
"I'll take your word for that." A few seconds passed, then Saint Marie hung up.
That was that. I'd get Buffy back, though she wasn't sure why she wasn't out shopping for an eye patch. She would have to understand that I wasn't going to tell her the details of her release this side of some serious pain.
Late that afternoon, I had another meeting with OT. The news was critical, as it all too often was. The largest armored combat action since Kursk was about to begin. In the balance was not only the Khanates only real hope of forcing a ceasefire, but the fate of Tibet as well. That wide right hook across the Tibetan Plateau was reaching its final destination.
On the Southern Flank of the PLA, six of the eleven Khanate Tumens plus six supporting Mechanized Divisions were trying to turn the Chinese Southern Flank. Against them, the PLA had mustered three Reserve Armored Divisions, three Reserve Mechanized Brigades, one Regular Armored Brigade and nine Reserve Infantry Divisions.
The Tumens' goal was Xining, the capital city of Qinghai Province and the southern supply artery to the PLA's Western Army Front. On the Northern flank, two of the four remaining Tumens, one armored brigade and one infantry division had to punch through along a shorter front against one Regular Mechanized Division, five Reserve Infantry Divisions and one Regular Armored Brigade. Their goal was the town of Gulang in Gansu Province, the nexus of the northern supply artery.
If the powerful Southern thrust could link up with the Northern attack, they would isolate 350,000 PLA troops (20% of their current army) in a pocket they couldn't fight their way out of. If they failed to link, the Khanate was done for. Unless they could cut off that Gansu/Qinghai Salient, the Khanate would be left with an untenable border and not nearly enough troops left to hold it.
The majority of my concern for that Wagnerian Cauldron was taken away from me. When I unloaded the latest info on Riki, Fathom and Javiera they all smiled, nodded and informed me that I was taking the next 24 hours off. I didn't want to because I really didn't know what to do with my life, at the moment.
Then they informed me that I was going to spend the morning with Aya and her Fatal Squirts. That, I could do. I called Aya to make sure this was something she wanted to do. I had the feeling she might not have been consulted. She had been 'told' that I was coming by to see her tomorrow morning at the park adjacent to the private school she attended.
We'd hang out for a few hours, catch some lunch then drive out to Doebridge for some Amazon-style training. I told her that I couldn't wait to see her. Sagely, she said that meant I must be in a bad way. I laughed, she beamed a happy 'see you soon' and I crashed out for some much needed rest. In the morning, over breakfast, we got some good news.
India's two carrier fleets had set sail. They were marshalling near the Nicobar Island in the eastern end of the Bay of Bengal. Beyond that lay the Malacca Straits and the much disputed resources of the South China Sea. Her diplomats were burning the midnight oil with their counterparts in the Vietnamese and Malaysian governments and armed forces.
In New Delhi, the Chinese and Russian Ambassadors to India were both trying to woo the Worlds' largest democracy to their differing sides. Alerted to this through Booth-gan operatives, the U S and U K (through the offices of the E U) were doing a bit of wooing of their own. Once more, it was the same for Nations as it was for people; India's Intelligence Service was on the 'inside' of the information curve, thanks the JIKIT.
For me it was bed. Around nine pm Javiera Castello showed up in my room. She was kind enough to leave the lights off, letting the passive light from the cityscape provide the illumination. Before she could say a word, she started to yawn.
"Get in," I pulled the covers half aside as I scooted to the middle. She hesitated a second before coming over.
"I came in to see if you wanted a bite to eat, and to tell you Buffy came back and she was pissed. She wanted to see you until we told her you were asleep," Javiera told me.
"Is she still here?" I stifled my own sympathetic yawn.
"No, she stormed out," she sat down on the bed beside me. I let my head fall down on the far pillow. "Care to tell me what that was about?" she added.
"Internal politics," I was losing interest in this conversation fast.
"Cáel, if you want to talk with someone ~ semi-normal and off the record, " she trailed off. "I'm already going to spend the rest of my life as a fugitive, or in a deep dark hole," she tried to joke. "Keeping a few of your secret isn't going to, "
All I did was stare at her. She was an experienced and gifted criminal prosecutor and that made her a good judge of a person's soul. My soul had been taking a serious beating and she knew it. For that matter, Javiera had never seen me far from pain, my Father's murder, Charlotte's death and now this latest unspoken malady.
"I'll lay down for a bit, if you don't mind?"
I raised the sheets halfway up once more. She kicked off her low heels then sidled in.
"You are naked," she stiffened slightly. I knew the source of her misconceptions. I wasn't a neatnik and I certainly didn't act like one.
What I was, was a man who didn't think his lady friends wanted to be walking all over his dirty undies. Given a chance, I put my clothes in the hamper unless I planned to put them on ~ in say, a few hours. I had decided to sleep until morning, I had my jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes already set aside and had already showered.
Sneak out without too many complications was my plan, so I had tossed my used clothes into the laundry basket. That meant when Javiera didn't see my clothes scattered about, she assumed I had something on.
"You are getting arou; hard," she noted with tired playfulness.
"I don't mean this as an insult, but you don't want to imagine the female form that doesn't get the same reaction from me, Javiera. I'm tired and unless you initiate something, I'm going back to sleep.
"Okay." It took her a few seconds but, she put her head down on the pillow beside me.
She was even getting the warm spot where I had been sleeping. I noisily stretched my arm out, up and around, giving her plenty of time to roll on her side, facing me, and rest her head on my shoulder. I thought she was worried that her hand resting on my chest would, and I slept. An hour later, Riki showed up.
Without the lights on, she initially mistook the sleeping Javiera to be a sleeping, post-sex Javiera.
"Cáel?" she whispered.
"She's asleep and totally clothed. Do you need me, or her?"
"You," she came and sat down on the side of the bed opposite Javiera.
"The Georgians and Armenians are sending separate commissions to meet with you," she began. I must have looked really tired. "You are their Prince, right? They want to make some ground rules and bring some issues to your attention. I'd like to bring in some of the UK and US experts on the region to help out."
"Make it so," I proclaimed loftily and quietly. She got the reference.
"Aye, aye Captain," she smiled compassionately. The 'Beat Puppy' look is a serious lure for any babe with a mothering instinct.
"Come on," I yawned. "Crawl in."
"I shouldn't," she demurred.
"I'm about to fall back to sleep and I don't want to do it alone," I moped. Yes, I had a woman asleep on the other side of me, but Riki had her sight-inhibiting 'sex goggles' on.
"I'll be right back," she kissed me (on the cheek). Off she went and quickly she returned. I barely registered her snuggling in on the other side. Sleep took us.
"The Dali Lama is currently meeting with The Great Khan and it's going out over the BBC, Aljazeera and CNN!" Lady Fathom loudly proclaimed as she flipped on the lights while the grey-black skyline showed the first signs of pink. "I've proven my diplomatic brilliance yet again. Cáel, you know what this means," she began stripping. "The rest of you can stay or go, your choice."
So I got my four-way.
Monday, August 15th ~ 28 Days to go
My kidnappers' plan was equal parts sinister and simple. The only item that tipped me off that anything untoward was happening were the blank lenses worn by the little girl walking my way. Ten years old is a bit early in life to be exploring your beatnik heritage. Only when she got close did I pick up on her tear streaked cheeks and the white-knuckled hold she had on her book bag.
Before then, I had been the anchor point/mom-teacher distracting device that allowed Aya and her Squirts to become unsworn peace officers for the first through six graders who were at the park, pool and outdoor athletic facilities attached to the private school. There were a few kids actually attending summer classes, but most of the youngster hanging about were doing so because this was a 'public' place.
That meant that only the right quality of people were allowed in. The other security guards asked me about Yasmin. I told them she was finished with her orientation at Havenstone (a lie, the real 'Runner' orientation took a minimum of one year) and would soon be working on a temporary project in her native Brazil. I neglected to mention that we would be engaging in nefarious activities that would very likely involve varying levels of pain and death.
Even though they knew me, I was still searched. My Conceal Carry permit didn't cover me leaving the vehicle, so they took my boom-boom. They missed my knife in the arm sheath. I didn't care.
I managed to bring in four 'sweet' water pistols so I could dispense summary humiliation to any mouthy punks who thought they could pick on Aya and I couldn't stop them because I was an adult. I'm not much of an adult. I'd also tricked the Martial leader of the Amazon Host, so these entitled bullies seriously hadn't a clue who they were screwing with.
I could place a wet spot on a crotch (guys), or shoot them in their mouths (girls) form ten feet. Turning around only meant you got a soaked ass instead. Sadly, that brought me to the attention of two Eight grade girls who liked to play Call of Duty (there is a video game that doesn't have scantily clad babes? And people play it? Just kidding.)
Anyway, these were two girls who knew Aya by reputation (her Father was a spy), and Europa (because she was a bad-ass.) It was all harmless fun until one asked me if I'd ever been to Romania. I knew what was coming. They showed me some video, included shoulder cam footage from my team, the Romanian Mountain Hunters and the Mycenaeans.
Yes, I was that guy. Yes, the strange girl showed up and my Spidey senses were tingling. I had four security types (2 Amazons and 2 FBI HRT members) in separate locations outside the school grounds. There were eight security types on the ground and four NYPD patrol cars within two minutes. I should have been safe.
With shaking hands, she handed me her MP3 player. She was clearly sniffling with near hysteria. The MP3 had five files with my name on them Instructions #1~5.
"Please," the little girl pleaded softly. "Please, do what they say, or they'll kill my Mommy." Aya and one of her Squirts, seeing one of their classmates standing next to me were on their way over.
I was about to wave her off then I took a second look at her glasses. They had spy cams on each side. I was already being watched. The rest was basic. The little girl was wired to explode. The girl's backpack had the equivalent of an omnidirectional child-size Claymore mine, kill radius 5 meters, or so they claimed. Aya was within three meters already.
I was being observed. No direct communication with the kidnappers was permitted. Either I complied with each and every step laid out on the MP3 player, or the child and mother detonated. It got better; they wanted Aya and me, not just me. Worse, it was all very solid spycraft. I would only communicate a given message to my guardians while a second phone was also on, so they could listen in to what I said.
The mom and her minivan were waiting for me at the school U shaped drop off station. I waved good-bye to the guards. I contacted my security to let them know I was on the move. They were concerned. I was insistent and they followed along. At the appropriate moment, an auto accident separated my team and Mini-van Mom sped away.
At stage #5 of the instructions, Aya and I stripped naked with remarkable aplomb. It wasn't that we weren't afraid what would happen to the mother and child (and a tad worried about ourselves), but we had one another and that was what mattered most. We were given fresh cloths and a time table to get ready to depart.
At the parking garage exchange point, I was happy to see that while they were binding up me and Aya (hands behind our backs, ankles and gags), they were also binding up the mother and child, plus removing and disarming the explosives. We'd never know if they were fakes, or not. They stuffed us in the trunk of a new sedan.
That vehicle only traveled a few more blocks before we took a sharp incline then came to an abrupt halt. The sedan's engine cut off and a different sounding engine, a diesel, started up. After that, I was in the Land of the Lost. I'd lost all bearings. The thing was, I already knew the identities of three of the four kidnappers, I'm an ass man and no two asses are the same.
None of that was helpful at the moment. We were taken out of the trunk at our final destination. The kidnappers' sedan was in the back of a large panel truck. That had shaken off all immediate chances of being tracked by traffic cams. There were four Seven Pillars Commandoes present who cut our feet free and removed our gags before taking us out of the truck. Those four took us down the ramp, exposing us to our new setting; an aircraft hangar with close to thirty 7P's.
There was only one of the old kidnapping crew in evidence, Felix Melena unmasked. I looked at him, he looked at me, snorted, grinned then shrugged. "It pays to be on the winning side," he joked.
"Turning traitor will only make you their dog instead of Havenstone's," I countered calmly. I was raging, Goddess, I was dying for a chance to be in a situation where unleashing my rage would do some good. This wasn't it.
"Yeah, but I'll be a dog who can fuck bitches, not some lap pet like you, Nyilas," Felix snorted. To an outsider and a person who only looked at the superficial Melena, his actions and attitude were plausible, even expected.
To an insider like me, this was an impossibility. There was no way Felix could have gathered the access to pull this off. A Havenstone insider would never trust Felix as a pawn. And Felix wouldn't betray me for the most important of all reasons (to Felix). How could he reverse his martial defeat at my hands if I wasn't around anymore?
He was a bastard and a huge prick, but he was a self-confident machismo kind of man too. I shouldn't have been surprised that Katrina would risk her own niece in whatever ploy she was working on. I still didn't know if she, or Alal, was the smartest, most convoluted thinker I had ever known. Felix's other three assistants weren't around because they were Amazons and that would have looked fishy.
In the crowd of Han, five people stood out. Of least importance was the grizzled looking Chinese fireplug with grey-white, short-cropped hair and a scar running through his right eye. It was milky and blind. I had little doubt he thought Spetsnaz training was for pussies too. He led the twenty-four other Seven Pillar Commandos. I recognized the gear.
I surveyed the next four ~ I'd get to the girl last. Two were a bald, senior-junior member team of Gong tau necromancers. The younger guy looks like he was happy to be past the 'twisting the heads off heads of kittens' phase of his training and into the true, 'I get to help humans suffer and die' main program.
The older guy had far more extensive tattooing: much more than the junior member and more than the guy Saku had killed for me at Summer Camp. He looked at Aya and I as if we were nine year old virgins on a pedophile auction block. He was unhealthily happy to see us.
The last duo were fraternal twins. Without a doubt, Han Chinese. The woman was tall for a female of the type and as tall as her brother, 5 foot ten, and slight-muscular builds (somewhere in the 140lb. range). They had tight black bodysuits on, hip-holstered pistols and twin Jian swords on their backs. Both had their long black hair braided down to their belt loops.
Everyone looked down on Aya, both physically and socially. I earned a greater level of hostility from the commandoes ~ I'd turned some of their buddies into briquettes. I was a curious skin rash to the warlocks; an unexpected infection they meant to scrape off the flesh of their Pure Han world. The twins were intense and not my biggest fans.
Felix stepped up to the leader, who clearly looked as though he was dealing with a form of life even lower than me. I was loyal to my side, no matter how misguided. Felix was a traitor. He handed four objects to the guy: my Amazon honor blade, a clear baggie with one brownie and five fortune cookies, and two tiny objects, memory cards.
"What is this?" the male asked. His English was 'English', not 'American'.
"The chips from their phones and this is his 'Amazon' token. I believe it has some value to him," Felix explained. "The treats ~ he values them for no reason I know of, yet he is never without some."
"I did not ask for these, Traitor," the boy-twin sneered. Then he tried to punish Felix by stabbing him in the chest with a two-fingered strike. He was fast. Felix was an eye-blink faster and parried the blow. Felix took two steps back before setting his fighting stance. My co-worker was grinning evilly.
"If that's the best you got Chang, Chung, 'whichever frying pan noise you are'," Felix laughingly mocked him, "you had better keep Cáel’s hands and feet bound, or he's going to escape and be coming back for me by day's end."
That bravado was a risky play on his part.
It would help the 7P's believe Felix was a cavalier savage overlaid with a thin veneer of civilization. Obsequious traitors would be the norm, thus easily to consider suspicious. Felix was playing the role of a revenge-oriented opportunist. He was making it easy to want to kill him, which no sane double-agent would do.
To prove my point, six commandoes pointed their QCW-05 Chinese Suppressed Submachine Gun his way.
"You are a poor judge of my tolerance, Rat," the man glared, "and remarkably incapable of accepting your miniscule worth."
"I know me and my partner delivered the man and Katrina's niece when you couldn't get close, Chuckie," Felix taunted him. "Was that the Dali Lama and the Great Khan chatting away this morning? With Cáel’s fiancée sitting in the background?" he continued happily.
"Go," the man dismissed him. They waited until Felix mounted up on a motorcycle I hadn't seen before and departed before another word was spoken.
"His time will come, Brother," the girl spoke up (girl as in a woman in her late 20's). "You will feed him each word, each insult." He looked her way. There was some true affection there. It wasn't incestuous, just familial respect and love. "Do you know what I am saying," she looked my way.
I kept looking at her because that was natural. They had my life in their hands, so observing the two people clearly in charge was logical. I didn't even indicate that I knew she was asking a question.
"Kill the girl. She is no longer of any use to us," she said next.
This wasn't even a stress on my acting ability. Aya had multiple uses, so verbally threatening her as a lure was idiotic in the extreme. No one was moving to follow those orders, so I maintained my 'confused' face.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.