Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 4

Rescue and patchwork relationship.

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

 

Loving your enemy is easy, you know precisely where both of you stand

(Right where we left off)

The closest Marine had been waiting for me to finish my bonding moment with Menner before speaking. He walked and talked like an officer.

"You are certainly Mr. Cáel Nyilas," he nodded. "I'm Lt. Robeson, United States Marine Corps. I would like to take you and your party home. What is the situation?"

"Lieutenant, this young lady is Aya Ruger. She was kidnapped along-side me and managed to kill over twenty of our enemies, so be careful around her." I was deadly serious about what I said. Aya should get proper credit for all the people she sedated then drowned. Dead was dead, even if it was accidental.

"These two," I pointed to Zhen and Mu, "are L s la ninda and Amar, Taiwanese nationals suffering some shock from the abrupt crash landing of the aircraft. They don't seem to know why they were kidnapped, but they were instrumental in aiding Aya and me making it to shore during the typhoon."

"If you say so, Sir," he nodded. He did believe me, yet a soldier was taught to be skeptical of anything a civilian told him about a military situation. "The bodies?"

"Those are the corpses we found after the storm. I decided we should attempt to place them in your custody so you can figure out who they are," I suggested.

"Sir, I don't think we can let civilians keep their weapons aboard the flight," the Marine Lt. stated since I had both a pistol and submachine gun, Aya had her pistol and Zhen had her and Mu's blades. A Marine NCO sent a party to gather the dead.

"Marine, I am Cáel Nyilas, Irish diplomat, freebooter and Champion of the worst possible causes," I began my spiel.

"You probably have some orders concerning bringing me in alive. I am not so constrained and am more than willing to steal this aircraft and fly back to Hawaii without you. My team keeps their weapons, or you give me your best shot, right now," I met his gaze. He mulled over his options. Two Romanians and two Marines were starting to load the ad hoc body bags aboard the C-37B.

"Normally I don't take that kind of crap from a civilian and I don't want you to think I'm making an exception because of your Security Clearance. I'll let your people keep your weapons, but if something goes wrong, I'm shooting you first," he assured me.

"Done deal," I offered my hand and he shook it.

"Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day," he congratulated me.

"What?" I gasped.

 Rescue and patchwork relationships

{6 pm, Sunday, August 17th ~ 22 Days to go}

{11 pm Sunday, Aug. 17th (Havenstone Time)}

{And just this once, 11am Monday, Aug. 18th Beijing Time}

"Oh and Happy Tibetan Independence Day;, nice work.," the Marine congratulated me.

"What?"

"How is that possible?" muttered Mu.

"Yippee!! No more burning monks," Aya fist-pumped. Personally, I think she did that for the enjoyment of our guardians and to piss off Zhen and Mu just a tiny bit more.

(Mandarin) "Brother," Zhen studied her brother's pained expression. "What has gone wrong?"

(Mandarin) "The province of Tibet apparently has broken away," he groused. In English, to the Marine Lieutenant he repeated, "How is this possible?"

"I take it you didn't know Peace Talks had broken out?" he grinned. I doubted the Lt. bought my 'these are my two Taiwanese cobelligerents' story, but belief was above his pay grade, so he didn't give a shit.

"Yes," Mu mumbled, "we knew of the proposed cease-fire."

"Yes, you mean both sides actually honored it?" I added. I really had been out things for a while.

"Nearly two days ago, noon, Peking Time, the People's Republic of China and the Khanate put a six month cease-fire into effect which has remained intact for forty-one," he looked at his watch, "forty-one and a half hours." He was being a cock to the petulant Mu. No one called Beijing 'Peking' anymore. I had even ordered Beijing Duck on several menus. Peking was the height of Western Imperialist thinking, or so it looked to Mu.

(Mandarin) "He is yanking your chain, Mu," I explained. "You are looking pissed off at being rescued, which isn't doing my alibi for you much good."

"My apology," Mu nodded to the lieutenant. "Is there any news from the Republic of China? Are they free as well?" That was nice of Mu to call Taiwan by its pet name, the ROC.

"Not yet," he patted Mu's unwounded leg, "but with the utter shellacking the Khanate put on the People's Navy (really the People's Liberation Army Navy, but the Marine was getting his shots in) it is only a matter of time."

I had been translating in a low voice to the V nători de munte in order for them to keep up with the conversation. They all started laughing. The Marines joined in. There was a huge joke here that we had missed out on while stranded.

(Romanian) "So, ask them if they know where their aircraft carrier is," Menner chuckled. Most Romanians had grown up knowing of only one China.

Me: (Romanian) "What!"

A Naval Corpsman who didn't know Romanian, but knew 'aircraft carrier' just fine jumped in: "Oh yeah, the missing Chinese Aircraft carrier," she chortled.

Mu: "What!"

I'd only been gone two and a half days. What the hell had been going on?

(What had transpired in my absence and the subsequent consequences)

(Notes:

P R C = People's Republic of China; PLA = People's Liberation Army;

P L A N = People's Liberation Army Navy;

P L A A F = People's Liberation Army Air Force;

R O C = the Republic of China {aka Taiwan, aka Chinese Taipei, aka the "other China"};

The First Unification War {aka what the Khanate did to China in 2014};

Truce lasts from August 16th 2014 until February 15th, 2015 = 183 days)

There are several classic blunders grownups should know to avoid: never fight a land war in Asia, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line, and, if you are going to cross a master thief, first make sure you have nothing of value. For the land war in Asia, check with my partner, the Khanate. Substituting Black Hand for Sicilian ~ check with Ajax, use an Ouija board. So far, destiny was batting .500.

The last blunder I created entirely on my own, but I felt it was the true and right response for the circumstances. So witness the Six Families of the Ninja and the greatest theft in all of recorded history.

In the closing hours of the First Unification War, as in many wars, some serious theft was going on; mainly it was the People's Republic getting fleeced.

The most obvious and immediate blows came in the Spratlys and Parcel Islands where Khanate forces (actually, elements from all the JIKIT players) seized the key island in the Parcel chain, Woody Island, and secured the P L A N base the Chinese had created there, including the 2,700 meter runway built there in the 1990's. The 1,443 Chinese civilians and 600 military inhabitants in the area were incidental complications and the survivors were about to be 'repatriated' to the mainland anyway; the Khanate didn't want them hanging around as they prepared for the inevitable end of the six-month truce.

Yes, the Khanate had stolen the most important island airfield ~ an unsinkable carrier really ~ in the South China Sea. It was also the northern end of the potential People's Republic of China's stranglehold on the east-west sea lanes between East Asia and the rest of the World, i.e., roughly 25% of all global trade.

The southern end? That would be the Spratlys. There are few 'real' islands in that 'island group' and only two worth having: the artificial one the P L A N was building and the one the ROC has a 1200 meter airfield on. That artificial island and every other PRC/P L A N outpost in the region was also stolen by the Khanate between 4 a.m. and noon of that final day of active conflict.

Every geological feature that had been the basis for the PRC's claims to all of the South China Sea was now in Khanate hands. Considering how much the P L A N had bullied everyone else in that portion of the globe, the Khanate taking over their geopolitical position was incredibly awkward. It was going to get worse.

Technically, the Khanate hadn't stolen the P L A N 'South Sea Fleet' (SSF); they'd blown the fuck out of it, including sinking the sole fully-functioning P L A N carrier Liaoning as well as five of the nine destroyers and six of the nineteen frigates in her battle group. The Liaoning and one destroyer had died in those last few hours as the SSF was racing for the relative safety of Philippine waters ~ so close, but no cigar.

So the Khanate had stolen the ability of the P L A N to project power in the South China Sea until February 15th, 2015 when the U N brokered truce ended. But that was not the epic theft, though. That distinction went to the Ninja. What did they steal? A semi-functional Chinese nuclear powered super-aircraft carrier still under construction.

The beast had no official name yet, but she was a 75,000 ton engine of Global Domination laid down in 2011 and clearly complete enough to float and to be steered under her own power. (To be on the safe side, the Ninja included stealing four tugboats to help in their getaway.) So, you may be asking yourself, how does one 'steal' a nuclear-powered, 1000 foot long, 275 foot wide and ten-story tall vessel?

For starters, you need a plan to get on board the sucker. We had begun with the Black Lotus. They wanted to sneak onboard, exit the dockyard the ship was being built in, then sink it off the coast so it couldn't be easily salvaged. That was plan A.

Enter the Khanate and their plans; they too wanted to sink this vessel, and destroy the dry docks while they were at it. That was plan B. Actually, the Khanate desire was to contaminate that whole section of the port city with fallout from shattered reactors. They knew they would have to apply overkill when they smashed that bitch of a ship because the PLAN had hurriedly put on board its defensive weaponry ~ ensuring that the Khanate couldn't easily destroy it. For their approach, Temujin's people wanted the Black Lotus' help with the on-the-ground intelligence work. But the Black Lotus didn't want to help anyone irradiate Chinese soil.

Enter JIKIT as referee. All those islands the 'Khanate' was busy stealing were actually part of a larger JIKIT mission called Operation Prism. Another object that was a part of the overall plan was Operation Wo Fat, the sinking of the Liaoning ~ again GPS direction and distance to be courtesy of the Black Lotus.

JIKIT absolutely needed the Black Lotus. The Black Lotus wouldn't help anyone planning on poisoning any part of China for the next thousand years. Sinking the unnamed and incomplete vessel off the coast in deep waters meant no nuclear leakage and plenty of post-war time to salvage the wreck before it did start to hemorrhage. The Khanate wanted to kill this potential strategic nightmare no matter what it cost the Chinese ecology.

JIKIT went to the Ninja to help them adjudicate the issue. All the lights flared brightly in Ninja-Town when they heard of that delicate dilemma. They could make everybody happy and send a clear message to the Seven Pillars expressing how unhappy the six surviving families were about the 7P's trying to annihilate them when all of this 'unpleasantness' began.

The Khanate was already going to blast the shipyards and docks, the Black Lotus was already going to sail the ship into deep waters, so why not take it one step further, sail the ship into Japanese waters and declare it Khanate property as a colossal Fuck You! to the PRC, PLAN and specifically the Seven Pillars, all at the same time?

Now normally, you can't steal a ship that big. The owners will notice it is missing and come looking for it. And you can't sell or hide the damn thing. So, you steal it at the tail end of a war before the players can capture, or sink it. It just so happened the Ninja had access to a war and such a time table.

The next problem: where do you put it? The Khanate's closest safe haven was 8,000 km away at the Eastern Mediterranean Seaport of Izmir.

But wait!

The Khanate was about to steal an island airbase with its own (albeit small) harbor. The Khanate was confident that a few weeks after the truce, an alternate port, or two, would become available for the two-to-three year process it would require to prepare the vessel so it could be commissioned as the true warship it was meant to be.

So, how do you steal a well-guarded, humongous ship with its skeleton crew of 500? You need a distraction ~ a big one. Remember those Khanate airstrikes? They intended to destroy the dockyards anyway. Now all they had to do was 'miss' the carrier.

They could do that. If you recall, to dissuade the Khanate from sinking the ship in the final days of the war, the PLAN had hastily put teeth on the thing by giving it all its pre-designed defensive weaponry and added jury-rigged radar and sonar systems. The carrier could defend itself if needed. With the new plan (C), the airstrikes could avoid those teeth, thus reducing the risk of losing their precious planes and pilots.

A series of bombing runs and missile hits near the carrier would convince the PLAN admiral in charge to hurriedly put some distance between the ship and shore, Not out to sea. That would be stupid. Within the harbor, his weaponry could adequately defend his ship. And if she took serious damage, he could run her aground, so the vessel wouldn't really sink.

The only problem was that out in the harbor, with everything exploding, he was away from the only ground security support available. That was when the Amazons, Black Lotus, Ninja and JIKIT mercenaries would make their move. How could they sneak up on such a big, important ship? By using the submarines the US Navy, the British Royal Navy and Japanese Defense Force were providing, of course.

Note: As I stated earlier, Lady Fathom, Addison and Riki had wandered way off the reservation . By this time, if you were a Japanese, British, or American submarine commander in the Yellow Sea and you weren't part of this madness, you were insanely jealous of those who were.

The missions JIKIT was sending them on were:

-definitely Acts of War if they were ever discovered,

-far more dangerous than any war game exercise they'd ever been part of, and

-the ultimate test of their crews and equipment.

These people weren't suicidal. They believed they were the best sneaks under the Seven Seas and now they could prove it ~ in 50 years when this stuff was declassified (if it ever was).

For the one American, two British and four Japanese submarines inserting the assault teams, this whole mission had a surreal feel to it. They were transporting a packed assortment of women of Indian, Malaysian and Indonesian descent along with some very lithe Japanese ladies and gents, none of who talked a whole lot.

There was a third group with the spooky women and spookier Japanese teams, and that group was scared shitless about the sudden turn their lives had taken. They were all former American and British servicewomen (to not tick off the Amazons too much) with carrier and/or nuclear reactor experience who had been RIFed (Reduction in Force, aka fired) in the past five years from their respective national navies.

Around a week ago, they had all answered an advertisement by a logistics support corporation that was going to do a 'force modernization' in an unnamed country. They all knew that mean the Khanate. The job had been laid out as 'basically your old job with the addition of training the natives' and it included the promise of no combat.

It was a guaranteed five year contract with an option for a year-to-year extensions for another five years if you desired to stick around. For that, you received your 'pay grade upon retirement + 20%', free room and board, private security, judicial protections and a $10,000 to $10,900 signing bonus. For many struggling military families, it was manna from Heaven and thousands were signing up.

Then 72 hours ago, a different group from the same company came knocking on the women's doors. If you could come with them right then and there, they had a satchel of money, $100,000 to $109,000, tax free, and a Non-disclosure Agreement for you to sign. Sure, the deal sounded shady, but the money was very real.

Twenty-four hours later those who accepted the money found themselves in a small fishing village on Ko Island, Japan. There some rather fiercely intense people outlined the job they were needed for. From a submarine, the assault teams would sneak aboard the carrier, neutralize the crew and then the new crew (them) would sail it to Jeju, Jeju Island, South Korea.

At that point they would be allowed to stay with the vessel (preferred), or depart for a non-war zone of their choice. Both options came with another $100,000 to $109,000 payment. Anyone who declined this particular job would remain incognito on Ko Island for another 48 hours then be allowed to leave without the need to return their initial payment.

Of the 312 job applicants, 293 volunteered for both the first and second parts of the assignment. With the technical and linguistic expertise of the Amazons and 9 Clan members that would be enough to get their prize to Jeju Island's temporary safety and then make the last leg to Woody Island and a more permanent anchorage.

Besides the airstrikes to goad the carrier away from the wharves, all the Khanate had to do with the carrier was put three or four clearly Mongolian faces onboard when the various nations of the world came calling. After all, what was the public going to believe:, the Khanate had pulled off yet another daring (i.e., mostly JIKIT) Special Forces coup, just as they'd managed to do throughout this short war, or that 'Ninjas stole my Battleship, umm, carrier' stuff some PRC leaders were claiming? Forty-eight hours later the whole globe was able to watch the newly named Khanate supercarrier, the  z Beg Khan, passing through Japanese territorial waters while being escorted by South Korean and Japanese warships.

The PRC did complain to the United Nations over the 'theft' of both the carrier and 'their' islands, but the Security Council, led by the UK, could and would do nothing about the 'latest round of injustices heaped upon the People of China'. By the time the UN got around to doing nothing, the next round of JIKIT diplomacy was causing the PRC even greater headaches.

That greatest theft, while remarkable in its own right, was really a sideshow to the reordering of the political order in Southeast Asia. The big winner wasn't the Khanate. And it certainly wasn't the mainland Chinese. No, the nations to immediately prosper were an unlikely pair, the Republic of India and the People's Republic of Vietnam (PRV). The Republic of China (R O C) was also getting its own small boost as well.

By gambling their precious navy, India had become the largest power broker in the South China Sea's resource bonanza. She went from a minimal presence to being the critical ally of the Khanate and the 'big stick' (naval-wise) of Asia's new dynamic duo. The Indians had the only two functional aircraft carriers in the region and the Khanate had Woody Island with a mega-carrier number of planes sitting on it.

Their combined naval aviation was not something any of the others powers wanted to mess with. The duo then sealed their supremacy by making the duo a trio. That third member was the PRV. Vietnam was the land-based logistical anchor of the three regional powers.

Not only did Vietnam gain the prestige denied it for over two centuries, it redressed the P L A N humiliating treatment of their own navy for the past thirty years. The Khanate's naval aviation would shield Vietnam's economic exploitation of the Parcel Islands. The Indian Navy could counter anything the P L A N South China fleet could come at them with.

Yes, the P L A N had two other fleets, the Northern and Eastern, but both had been put through their own 1001 levels of Hell by the Khanate's air power, plus they had to protect the Chinese heartland from Russia and North Korean ambitions. The South Koreans and Japanese were suddenly a very real threat from the East too. But for the time being, the Indians had the decisive edge.

The final location for the  z Beg Khan was an old familiar haunt for some Americans, Da Nang, PRV. It had the facilities, courtesy of the US military from the 1960's and 70's, to be the new base for the Khanate's Eastern Fleet and logistical hub for their naval aviation forces in the Parcel Islands.

The Vietnamese were thinking with more than their testicles, as were the Indians. Sure, geopolitical clout was nice, yet that was only the icing on the economic cake that was the Parcel Island Accords. That hasty bit of JIKIT backroom dealings gave a 50% stake in the Parcels to the PRV.

India got 20% of something she had 0% in a month ago. The Khanate gained a 20% stake for their audacity and the ROC gained 10% because the other three would protect its share from the PRC. Something was better than nothing and the three legitimate powers agreed to the deal because in less than six months, the PRC would be back in the game.

The Indians and Vietnamese wanted the Khanate to stay interested in the region and the Taiwanese wanted to forge closer ties to the Khanate. That treaty was a 'no-brainer'. Within one week, the Vietnamese were strutting like peacocks and internal political opposition to the Indian intervention into the South China Sea in the Indian parliament was silent.

The Spratly Islands was a tougher deal to work out within the six month timetable. There were more players ~ the Philippines, Malaysia, Brunei, Indonesia and Thailand (who had a non-functional carrier). The JIKIT deal gave everyone but the Indians a 10% piece of the huge natural gas, oil and fisheries pie and the Indians got 20% once more.

The Philippines and Malaysia were both very opposed to this treaty; they believed they deserved a far larger portion of those regional resources. Indonesia and Thailand also felt they could hold out for a bigger slice and weren't happy with India getting so much for basically having a double handful of ships (34 actually) sailing about.

That 'handful of ships' was the point JIKIT was trying to make. If the PRC beat the Khanate next year, did any of the players think the PRC would give them anything, even if they promised them more right now? Really? When the PLAN had the biggest guns, they hadn't respected any other claims to the region. Why would that change in the future?

The reality was this: India would only stick around if they had the economic incentive to remain. Vietnam, the Khanate and the ROC were watching the clock and realized this was the best deal they would get. Brunei and the Philippines were also coming to that understanding. Brunei was tiny (thus easy to defend), very rich already and a good ally of the British.

The Philippines had a very weak navy and a non-existent naval air force. They couldn't even enforce their current claims versus Brunei, much less confront the PLAN, or any other nation's current military. The Philippines was, sadly, relatively big and very poor. Its big traditional ally was the United States, and the US was currently busy doing 'not much' about the South China Sea situation.

The world's biggest navy was partially taking up its traditional (and treaty bound) role of interposing itself between the North Koreans, PLAN/PLAAF and Russians arrayed near Japan and South Korea, or busily not 'ratcheting up tensions' in the region by sending more forces into the front lines.

President Obama was urging dialogue and 'stepping back from the brink' even though every country in Southeast Asia felt the brink had already dissipated the moment the PRC was forced to accept the cease-fire. In this context, the Philippines had good reason to be feeling lonely at the moment.

Bizarrely, both New Delhi and Hanoi were singing the praises of US Secretary of State John Kerry and the Rt. Honorable Phillip Hammond, Secretary for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs for the UK, for their deft handling of the crisis, thank you, Riki Martin and Lady Yum-Yum.

Riki wasn't expecting any thanks. She was certain she'd be fired and imprisoned for the rest of her life. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke was sure she'd get two additional knighthoods out of the deal, which would look very nice engraved on her tombstone. Javiera had long ago decided to face the music and go down with the ship, so to speak.

The CIA's Addison Stuart already had her exit strategy. She was going to go work for the Khanate, building up their clandestine service when this whole mad scheme collapsed into recriminations and 'extreme sanctions'. Mehmet, Air Force Sr. Master Sgt. Billings and Agent-86 had all decided to go with her. Katrina had their escape plane on standby. Mehmet's family was already 'vacationing' in Canada.

Anyway, the Republic of India, the Khanate, the Republic of China, the People's Republic of Vietnam (the Vietnamese were happy to already be getting half of the Parcel Island windfall), the Sultanate Brunei (Lady Fathom 'knew' some people and the Sultan was an autocratic Muslim ruler, just like the Great Khan) and the Philippines (because they had no other true choice) were all coming around to signing the Spratly Accords.

Indonesia and Thailand were kind of waiting for a better deal. Malaysia was downright hostile, having gravitated toward the PRC over the past decade and been assured by the PRC a better apportionment would be their reward for upsetting the treaty process.

The Great Khan's answer was simple. He publically threatened the Malaysian Federation in general and both the King (Sultan Abdul Halim of Kedah) and Prime Minister of Malay (Dato' Sri Najib Tun Razak) in particular with military action if they kept dragging their feet.

He even told them how he'd do it. He'd butcher or expel every living thing in the states of Perlis and Kedah (~ 2.1 million people) and give those empty lands to Thailand to settle along with the added sweetener of Malaysia's 10% of the Spratlys. He would also invade Eastern Malaysia, taking the island state of Labuan for himself while giving Sarawak to Indonesia and Sabah to the Philippines if those to states agreed to the split.

He'd also decimate their navy & air force before devastating every port city, just like he'd done to China. He'd already killed more than two million Chinese. What was another two million Malays to him? Also, Indonesia wanted Sarawak and the Philippines had claims on Sabah. While they were openly and publically defying the Great Khan's plan, could Malaysia really take the chance?

What would India and Thailand do while this was going on? Thailand stated that it would protect its territorial integrity, whatever that meant. India wasn't returning Malaysia's phone calls while showing their populace re-runs of Malaysian violence against their Hindu minority, the bastards!

To the world, the Indian Navy proclaimed it would 'defend itself and its supply lines' which was a subtle hint that they would shepherd any Khanate invasion force to their destination. Why would the Indians be so insensitive? The Malaysians were screwing up their deal to get 20% of both the Parcel and Spratlys wealth, that's why.

If the Khanate went down, there was no way India could defend their claims (which they'd won by doing nothing up until now). Oh yeah, Vietnam began gathering up warplanes, warships, transport ships and troops for the quick (710 km) jaunt across the Gulf of Thailand to north-eastern Malaysia to kill Malaysians because Vietnam needed the Khanate to ensure their own economic future as well.

That military prospect had a cascade effect, especially among the Indonesian military. If the Indian Navy remained active, the vastly more populous Western Malaysia couldn't reinforce the state of Sarawak. Sure, the Philippines was unlikely to conquer Sabah on their own, but all the Indonesians needed was for Sabah to be kept pre-occupied while their army took their promised territory, fulfilling a fifty year old dream of conquest/unification.

The United Nations blustered. It wasn't that they didn't care, they did. They also cared about the deteriorating situations in Libya, Nigeria, Syria and Ukraine. The situation was complicated by the unwillingness of the permanent members of the Security Council, namely the PRC and Russia, to recognize the Khanate.

In reverse, when those two tried to stick it to the Khanate, the UK stoically vetoed them. Why? Well, more on that later. Let's just say the Khanate was good for business in the European Union in general and the United Kingdom in particular because the Khanate was prepared to economically befriend the British. Ireland was being treated in a promising manner too. The United States,the United Nations?

Let's just say that in the two months following the cease-fire, the Khanate bloodily and brutally solved the ISIS conundrum and the Donbass Crisis. When the smoke cleared, the Khanate had reintroduced the practice of impalement to the modern battlefield, driven the separatists from the Ukraine and was on the border with Israel and Jordan.

Sure, the Ukrainians were stun-fucked by the Khanate's 'peace-keepers' going on a bloody rampage through the eastern rebellious regions, but they had delivered up peace by mid-September. Yes, the Russians were in an uproar about the impalements.

As the Khanate spokesperson said, 'if they aren't your people, then it is not your problem' and 'there are no more Russians left alive in the Ukraine'. In fact, fewer than a thousand people, all armed insurgents, were executed in such a manner, but the terror created by the highly publicized killings had the effect of sending a hundred thousand people stampeding over the frontier into Russia proper.

Next, the Khanate said it wanted to 'reexamine' the Crimean situation. There were Turcoman in that area and they weren't being treated well, or so it was claimed.

Even as Russia and the Khanate were posturing in the Donbass, the Khanate struck in the Middle East. By the end of September, Syria and Lebanon had ceased to exist as organized entities. Most of those two countries as well as portions of western Iraq became Turkish provinces in the Khanate infrastructure. Northeastern Syria, southeastern Turkey and northern Iraq became the Khanate state of Kurdistan.

It was a campaign reminiscent of the 13th century Mongol conquest, not a modern military struggle. Whole villages were eradicated. The entire Arab population of Mosul was exiled to the new territories in the East. The city was repopulated with Kurds from Turkey. Back in Turkey, those Kurds were replaced by Armenians from Azerbaijan, cauterizing another internal issue within the Khanate.

Jordan was cautiously hopeful. Israel? "We don't seem to be having problems with Hezbollah anymore," with a shrug and "it could be worse." As for ISIS; there really was an Islamic State controlling more than half of Iraq and all of Syria now and it allowed no other pretenders to that distinction. By the time the world woke up to that reality though, the Great Hunt had happened and I was dealing with the consequences of that.

A larger ideological and political matter was occurring in the United States, the United Kingdom (and to a limited extent Australia and Canada). The Ramshackle Empire (aka the Khanate) was just that ~ a Frankenstein nation fueled more by nationalistic pride and nostalgia for a Super-State (that only two living people had firsthand experience with) than an integrated armed forces and infrastructure.

It may have been built upon more than a 13th century creation and two hundred years of real and imagined oppression. It did have long term planning and real genius driving it forward. Having throttled the PRC into giving them six precious months of peace to 'tidy up the backyard' (aka the Middle East and Russia) and forge a true nation, the Khanate was now hiring experts to aid them in the task.

First and foremost, Temujin and the Earth & Sky had envisioned an armed state built upon military principles and discipline. Fate had delivered to them the means of their own salvation in the form of NATO's policy of disarmament and 'Reduction-In-Force' levels (RIFed).

The US and UK had trained tens of thousands of male and female volunteers in their Armed Forces in infrastructure creation and management for the Afghanistan and Iraq campaigns. From 2010, those militaries had informed those experts that their services were no longer required. Unlike the shrinking militaries of the 1990's, there was no private sector to 'soak up' the majority of those personnel.

The Earth & Sky had been working on the problem of nation-building on a time table and they kept coming up short. They had to fight to create their state first, so the all-important after-battle had been something their leaders dreaded. Temujin had been understanding about not everything being 100% ready. Few wars were fought that way.

Then a young male Amazon of mixed Magyar ancestry talked history with the Earth & Sky representative to a seemingly inconsequential personage's funeral. A few critical E&S leaders (a minority, to be sure) immediately sought ways to cultivate this man into what was a ten year plan to open doors to the Amazons. Then that man saved the Great Khan's life and everything changed.

Before the E&S had even remotely considered directly approaching the Amazons for help, the Amazons came knocking on their door. The Seven Pillars of Heaven had tried to kidnap a camp full of Amazon children ~ an assault on their future. The two secret societies were bound by one unique, fortunate idiot and a mutual thirst for vengeance.

They were also directed by two incredibly foresighted, ambitious and brilliant people. In Katrina of Epona, the E&S elders found someone who equaled their hope to see the Seven Pillars humbled and humbled immediately. Moreover, these were the Amazons they were dealing with. Amazons always sought both lightning decisions and long term solutions.

From the moment Iskender left his third meeting with Cáel Nyilas, Katrina put the fruits of the First Directive (the Amazons efforts to recruit militant outsider women) into overdrive. Havenstone had the apparatus in place to screen potential inductees. All they had to do was add a "can you suggest any other people who might be interested in this line of work" box to their employment forms.

That brought men into the process in surprising numbers. The market was flush with military veterans having trouble readjusting to the civilian community. The Khanate wasn't hiring killers. They wanted ex-military and civilian police officers to create a national police force.

They also wanted engineers and builders, cadres for their cadet corps and a whole range of specialist in jobs most of the Western World took for granted. The money came from off-shore accounts funded by Havenstone International. The employment opportunities came from Earth & Sky front companies operating in the UK and the US (and Israel, but that was another matter).

They had already started hiring scores of civilian English-speaking experts to help build their newborn nation's infrastructure before the first blow landed. English hadn't been chosen out of any cultural bias. Relying on Russian and Chinese sources wasn't feasible, the Khanate wasn't overly linguistically gifted where distant tongues were concerned and, as pointed out, the English-speaking world had a glut of applicants.

Now to the problem, there were people in the US and UK who weren't happy with their citizenry going to the Khanate and helping them to survive and thrive. These power groups wanted the Mongol-Turkish Empire to keep the resources flowing to the West, without any reciprocal commitment on their part.

Imagine their surprise when some wonks at the State Department and Foreign Ministries found bundles of expedited passport requests to the (former) nations of Turkmenistan, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan and Mongolia (and later Afghanistan and Iraq). The Department of Defense  Ministry of Defense were discovering their former military personnel and civilian contractors with Security Clearances were heading the same way.

Of all those destinations, only Mongolia and Kazakhstan were under any kind of 'Restricted Travel' advisories. Barring any coherent anti-Khanate strategy from their administrations, the bureaucracies were doing their jobs, with Havenstone exerting just enough influence to get the job done while flying beneath the radar.

After JIKIT was created, the group had a US Senator greasing the wheels to get the requests expedited. In England, Lady Worthington-Burke shamelessly used the people at the other end of the O'Shea hotline to get the job done overseas. She did have to sell out a teammate, but that was what good boys were for ~ taking one for the team. (That would be me, if there was any misunderstanding.)

When Cáel Nyilas was kidnapped under the watchful eye of the FBI (I wasn't sure how they got that bum-wrap), the whole situation exploded. The PRC didn't have me, yet promised they might produce me if certain concessions were made. According to Addison, I was worth 5,000 barrels a day of refined fuel oil and 50 tons of coal a month, and the Great Khan agreed to pay! Woot! I was loved by somebody who was a somebody.

All that attention drove home some salient points. I was a noble scion of Ireland, Romania, Georgia and Armenia (in no particular order) and they all wanted to know why the US had let me be kidnapped. Didn't my president know I was a sacred national treasure? After JIKIT tracked down the bribes and clandestine activities to Chinese shell corporations, those powers wanted to know what sanctions would be applied.

'But wait, wasn't I a private citizen?' my national leaders pleaded. Then the PRC made a case which boiled down to 'I had it coming for being a fiancé

 to Hana Sulkanen and a brother to the Great Khan', while ignoring me being snatched in the territorial US of A. Of course, they didn't claim to have actually done the kidnapping.

Javiera was waiting on that one; 'What was their excuse for kidnapping a little US girl to force my compliance?' The furious Federal authorities even found two dead adult bodies and two digits from said child to add to the media frenzy. To prove I had migrated to fantasy land, the CNN journalist got it right ~ they had tortured the girl and I had killed two of them for it. Just ask the Romanian Army how lethal I could be.

In a rare comment, Temujin informed the international press that he believed I was still alive. Why did he believe that? If I wasn't, they would have been able to spot the pile of dead enemy around me and my 'boon companion' (go Aya!) from orbit. Until they discovered this carnal pit from Hell, I was surely still alive.

Just at the cusp of turning publically against the Mongol barbarians, the world suddenly got angry with their enemy, the PRC. The principal two Western regimes were paralyzed with indecision until my miraculous cry for help from the middle of the Pacific showed the world I was alive, had punished my enemies and rescued others from under the opponent's cruel thumb.

Clearly if I started ranting against the People's Republic of China, my government would be rather peeved with me. I hadn't screwed a dozen poli-sci majors to miss out on that obvious situation. I behaved and hoped they wouldn't make me die from an embolism, or some other equally implausible cause.

(DC is a marvel. 9 pm, Monday, August 18^th. 21 days)

I'd been dragged to DC, to honor promises made in Rome a week ago. I had another choice; I could have justifiably said I was still getting over my kidnapping ordeal. But that choice fucked over Javiera Castello, my boss at JIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Task force).

That was how I ended up in a 'secret and secure' meeting with Tony Blinken, Deputy National Security Advisor (DNSA) and his experts. He was someone I didn't know. The rest, I'd had a verbal run-in with them after the Romanian bloodbath. I'd been cranky. I would hardly consider us to be on good terms now.

All four experts were from the US State Department. They were foregoing their usual group of flunkies because this meeting wasn't really happening. All the participants were officially somewhere else, mostly not even in D.C. Had this soiree 'really happened', the Congressional sub-committees would have been able to request the minutes of Tony's meeting with members of JIKIT and:

·         Victoria Nuland, Ass. Sec. of State for European & Eurasian Affairs (ASSEEA)

·         Robert O. Blake Jr., Ass. Sec. of State for S & C Asian Affairs (ASSCAA)

·         Daniel R. Russel, Ass. Sec. of State for E. Asian and Pacific Affairs (ASSEAP)

·         Bill A. Miller, Director of the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service (DSS) (aka Big Willy)

We made stiff, formal introductions (which signaled the utter lack of trust in the room.) Javiera hadn't wanted to put me through an interrogation this soon after my near-death experience, considering my snarky nature when stressed. The White House was putting the squeeze on her. The main player was Tony, who talked with the Leader of the Free World on a weekly, if not daily, basis.

The Diplomatic Security Service people had successfully peeled off Pamela and my SD Amazons only after they agreed I could keep Aya. They tolerated me keeping the nine-year old girl despite the obvious fact she had gone through worse hardships than I had endured and was still packing her Chinese QSW-06 suppressed pistol.

I had already fabricated and submitted my report on how I'd overcome a plane-full of rogue delinquents from the Forumi i Rinis  Eurosocialiste t  Shqip ris  (Euro-socialist Youth Forum of Albania) bent on recruiting impressionable European socialites by accessing my Twitter account.

That's right, the Albanians had it out for me. I reiterated that critical bit of data to the Department of Homeland Security when they questioned me on the veracity of my memories. The two ethnic Chinese I was found with? I thought they were from Taiwan, and they both appeared to be suffering from amnesia.

I was already suffering repercussions from my pathological refusal to take life seriously. Javiera believed I was about to get a formal apology from Ferit Hoxha, Permanent Representative of Albania to the United Nations. Damn it! Now I had to do something nice for the Albanians. Maybe I'd offer them membership in the Khanate, full-statehood with an economic package to sweeten the deal.

Yes, that was how Albania and Kosovo joined the Khanate, a product of my love for exaggeration and a little post-Ottoman solidarity over Tarator (cold soup made of yoghurt, garlic, parsley, cucumber, salt and olive oil with a side of fried squids), Tav  Kosi (lamb meatballs) and Flia & Kaymak (a dessert I highly recommend).

We had toasted the Pillars of Kanun (Albanian oral law and tradition): ~ Nderi (honor), Mikpritja (hospitality), Sjellja (Right Conduct) and Fis (Kin Loyalty), ~ and he promised to tell his people that I had Besa which was an Albanian-ism for being a man who would honor his word of honor (despite us being brought together by my lie). The shit-ton of financial and military aid I asked the Great Khan to sweeten the pot with might have helped as well.

Later, Lady Yum-Yum told me that the military leaders of NATO called it a 'master-stroke' in neutralizing Comrade Putin's Russian-backed 'Greek threat' to the Khanate's Turkey. Fathom patted my cheek while telling me that my thunder-stunned look was 'so adorable.' Once more my big heart and dumb luck gave the world an unlooked-for pinprick. How angry was my pal Vladimir (Putin) with me? Let's just say that I was still invited to Moscow, but when Putin patted me on the back, I should expect a dagger to be in his hand; the twin of the one I'd accidently stuck into him.

Why was Russia riling up the Greeks against the Turks (not that it was all that hard)? One word: Ukraine. I'll get back to that at the end of August. At the moment, the meeting was all about introducing me to a depraved portion of the internet Web-verse devoted to coverage of the Khanate's campaign inside China ~ lots of really gory, nightmare-inducing stuff.

I looked over the videos full of blank-faced, traumatized men and women: bloody, diseased, starving and neglected. Then came the scenes of pyramids of human heads neatly arranged on street corners. The Khanate's security troops were shown moving past these and other grisly reminders of who was currently winning and who was losing this titanic struggle.

The Mongolian and Turkish troops moved about without a hint of remorse, or stress. No sympathy was exhibited for the Han Chinese being systematically herded out and driven east, back into 'China'. Not all the Han were being expelled. If they had skills of critical importance, they could stay. That courtesy also included all mixed ethnic families.

Other footage showed swift justice being administered for the slightest sorts of offenses, often including the killing of multiple family members for one member's crime. The Khanate troops methodically participated in this merciless exercise of ethnic cleansing.

Before long, the 'offenders' stopped begging and pleading because it was clear the Mongolian and Turkish troops remained unmoved. This wasn't rabid hatred, it was schooled indifference. They had a task to do ~ inflict utter barbarity upon the Chinese civilian population. PLA soldiers and PLAAF prisoners fared much better, a distinction I wasn't sure my fellow American's understood. At the start, I didn't understand any of it either.

Oh, I knew Temujin wanted 'the invading Chinese' driven out, but seeing that actually play out was, stomach-churning. Fate (that Bitch) was a never-ending cornucopia of pain, pain with lessons attached. After all, my fellow Amazons were in the process of killing all their fathers; their brothers were long since dead.

Had I not suffered through that pain, I couldn't have looked at Temujin's atrocities with the new eyes I discovered. I wasn't okay with what was happening to all those innocents trapped in a life-and-death struggle that had been going on for over 250 years. That was one of the new lenses I brought to my life now. Evil is not excusable.

But with personal moral strength, you can end the cycle of violence, learn to accept, forgive and adapt. Survival was a virtue. None of that stopped evil from happening though. Nor did it make all evil inexplicable. This evil had plenty of reasons ~ they simply weren't reasons I liked, or would have accepted.

Except, always 'except', Temujin and I were bound; life to life. I had save his life, thus taking partial ownership for the actions of the man whose life I'd help perpetuate.

"Okay," I spoke after going through thirty-seven minutes of man's inhumanity to man, "this is some fucked-up shit."

"Is that all you have to say?" Victoria Nuland inquired with deep interest. For her, it would be very disappointing if a man with my charisma and influence was a narcissistic monster. She had daughters after all, and she was hot in a bookish, 'I want to rule the world with a gentle hand' sort of way.

"Terrorists," Daniel, Riki's boss sneered. He still hadn't forgiven me for busting his chops after Romania. "That is precisely what they are." At least Victoria had my 'adoption' of Georgia's plight in her department 'win' column.

"I'm sitting on another one of his down the hall," Mr. Martin added.

That was most likely one of my Kurds; who had been fighting a guerilla war against the Iranians, Iraqis and Turks for the last forty years. I wasn't going to blow up and act juvenile. That would set a bad example for Aya, and she still had her pistol. She was scanning the room, soaking up the details while keeping an ear in on our conversation.

"How to make my position clear?" I mused. "I saw a security trooper crack open an infant's head with a 2x4. It freaks me out and I think you are all missing the two most critical aspects in every single video," I trudged into the sludgy, murky water of political psychology.

"Mr. Nyilas, we have had experts go over every aspect of this footage and hours more. Your Khanate m, allies haven't been bashful," Tony, the ringleader in this little circus, began the process of making me duly penitent to his way of thinking. Insinuating that the Khanate's considered me a subservient with his 'm' leading to 'master' trick, he had the wrong guy.

He wasn't my type and I've had girlfriends fake pregnancies on me on multiple occasions trying to guilt me into compliance. Every libido-driven bi-sexual and heterosexual male who has ever gone to a liberal arts college has taken Art History. That course and Modern Lit., Hemingway, Joyce and Kerouac, are all full-access passes into any wannabe female artist/rebel's bedroom.

I also learned something about art work; its creation and application, because my Art History professor was passionate about more than a bunch of dead painters. Kimberly, my mentor, trained me to appreciate those other feminine facets they chose to reveal to me, it was the same way with my gun-lover, pandering to your lover's non-sexual obsessions added a whole new spice rack to every erotic encounter.

"I agree that you've had experts study them for every little nuisance to put in your dossiers leading to the inevitable investigations, the issuing of warrants and the open-and-shut trials. You've been adding to your facial recognition software database for the inevitable War Crimes Tribunal," I forged ahead.

"I am telling you that you are barking up the wrong tree. Those people don't care what you think and it is your own damn fault."

"Do you care to go on record as supporting this behavior?" Tony was trying to back me into a corner.

"Tony, answer me two questions?" I requested. Since he was the aggressor here, he decided that letting me stick my neck out was the best move.

"Sure," he nodded. "I'd like to see your spin on this." No, he didn't want to hear my opinions as a counterpoint to his preconceived notions. He was gathering ammo to blast me with, because he knew he was right and thus I had to be wrong.

"Your buddies are pissing ISIL off," Robert mocked me. "Their rape camps and beheading of common criminals is being out-shone by your Asian compatriots' inhuman behavior." I wasn't going to backslide into counter-mockery.

"What is the average age of the Khanate security troops in question and what are the camera angles and quality of virtually all the shots?" I posed.

"They are older than your average jihadist," Big Willy allowed.

"More accurately; they are all forty-five to fifty-five," I kept hammering away. "That places them past the enlistment age for regular Khanate armed forces," I said. "The troops we are watching have specifically been trained for this job. This isn't some random terrorist act. In fact, it isn't classical terrorism at all."

"First biological warfare and now mass graves?" Miller countered.

"I'm not saying what they are doing isn't abhorrent, people," I shook my head. "What I am telling you is that what they are doing isn't aimed at the West. It is an internal decision on the Khanate's part and a very deliberate one. I can prove that by the second fact I picked up." I waited. I was past the 'gifted amateur' phase, hallelujah, Dot Ishara.

"This was all high-quality camera footage," I explained. "Journalists are walking around Xinjiang Uyghur and they took this in broad daylight and the soldiers didn't care. The Khanate isn't worried about our opinions and that IS the fault of everyone one in this room that isn't me, or Aya."

"So, you are an apologist," Daniel accused me.

"Don't get stupid on me now, Daniel," I interrupted. "What I'm trying to tell you, please look past your current group-think, is that any moral ascendency you think that Western Civilization has, you never had." I paused, then pushed on, "You are deluding yourself into believing you have grasped what's going on here."

"Enlighten us," Tony leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. He was acting confident, but he was actually quite worried. Here was someone who had been listening to Javiera; the woman standing grimly by my side.

"This war and tit-for-tat mass slaughter didn't start in 2014," I built up steam. "It started in the mid-18th century with the mass extinction of the native Mongolian peoples in the Dzungaria/Northern Xinjiang region and has continued non-stop since then."

"What you see is the Khanate acting in a deliberate manner, yet you don't understand their actions are fueled by the deliberate attempt by the Han Chinese to exterminate them. These aren't actions designed to take this conflict into a psychological paradigm. This is a visceral ethnic conflict based on real grievances and a pre-existing danger of extinction."

"Now, I know this administration is all for globalization and cultural homogeneity. In your world view, that means secularism and social liberalism. To the Khanate, it means 'They Cease To Exist'., And they cease to exist because you are letting the Han Chinese billions and the Russian millions do them in, as they have been for the past 200 years," I told them.

"Why would they buy into this view of ours?" I asked. "The Mongols and Turks certainly don't think you are pro-Islamic, despite our President's repeated platitudes to that effect."

"That is correcting over a century of Eurocentric thinking," Tony defended his boss's stance.

"They don't care," I stated firmly. "They don't see you supporting a faith you don't possess; they see you abandoning a Christian faith you privately denigrate and devalue and holding out the expectation that they will reciprocate by surrendering a faith that they do value."

"They see you yourself improving upon a highly imperfect past ~ things you are ashamed of ~ while they view their past and their faith as a source of pride. You are approaching the Great Khan as if he was some primitive screw-head who needs to educate his people so that they can be as enlightened as you are."

"Your experts are creating their psychological profiles for you with their iron-clad prejudices about what is right and wrong. That renders you incapable of understanding that there is any way the Khanate are right and you are wrong," I let that hang there. I could see Big Willy and Victoria coming around to the idea they might not know everything.

I'd participated in far more psychological tests than was safe for a manipulator like me (female psych students love giving standardized tests, and finding my secret, tragic flaws and then spending a few weeks trying to 'cure' me.) Tony was a patriot in the cause of his boss's boss, POTUS. I was afraid he was a lost cause.

Robert was in 'political-creature' mode. He'd move whichever way helped his career. Daniel was forever my enemy for personal and political reason and wouldn't agree with anything I said this side of Judgment Day.

"I can tell you resent his hubris, Tony," I kept his focus.

"Your problem is that his violence is 'correct' because he's using it to effectively erase six hundred years of fragmentation in a matter of weeks and the West is wrong because it has failed, through both diplomacy and armed force, to make the global community a safer place ever since you had the wherewithal to do so.

Finally, through no fault of your own, the overall economic disparity has been closing, just not closing fast enough."

"Cultural rejection, religious conservatism and unbalanced economic growth," Victoria nodded. Robert agreed.

"How do we get the man called Temujin to accept mediation?" Robert's attention had gone from hostile and a tad condescending to studious.

"Two options," I mulled things over. I was so used to being underappreciated, this acceptance had me off-center.

"As quick as you can, hit him in the nose hard with everything you've got, or stress to him that you will stand by his side, right now. Unless the United States makes an immediate commitment, either way, he has no reason to rein in any of the behaviors you find reprehensible."

"Oh, and a War Crimes Tribunal is a pitiful joke," I cut out a piece of their imagined leverage. "He's got the resources to defy you and he is doing so because he has zero respect for the United States, the E U and the United Nations. He currently controls too much of what the West needs."

"When the Chinese make their resurgence," Daniel glared.

"Won't matter. This is a death-grapple and he's going to ensure any death of the dream of a Mongol-Turkish Empire is accompanied by an utter catastrophe for everyone else ~ the Khanate goes down guns blazing," I said. "He doesn't doubt his country's resolve.

"He's counting on you to not embrace the realization that you can only stop his force with naked aggression of your own: boots on the ground and thousands of US military personnel coming home in body bags every month for half a year at least, if we, you, don't get your asses entirely kicked."

"The Khanate has enjoyed some success in their surprise attack, but the United States has the strongest military on the planet," Daniel confidently affirmed.

"One, I'm not so sure of that, and not because I don't believe in the US fighting man and woman. I'm saying it because the Khanate isn't some half-assed religious militia, or Arab conscript force that will sit around waiting to get bombed."

"I imagine if you get feisty, really feisty to the point he is sure you have his demise in mind, he'll pop off a few medium range Intercontinental Ballistic missiles with nuclear warheads toward the Persian Gulf," I lied.

 I knew the Khan didn't have nuclear missiles, and I was wrong again.

Two days before I found myself in a room, rallying to the Khanate's defense, they'd stumbled across (quite literally) five DF-31A Ballistic Missiles (road capable) with a range over 10,000 km, and each carrying a 4.5 megaton warhead, the bad-luck faeries? Worse, the capture was made possible by a JIKIT team of Green Beret and Gurkha, so the US and UK were soon going to get the bad news, just not soon enough for them to stop the Khanate from scooping up the missiles and escaping with them into the interior.

How about my threat against the Persian Gulf and Saudi fields? When the German market closed the day before the Khanate's attack, Oil was trading at $12 a barrel. When the exchanges opened this morning ~ $55 and rising. Why? China's domestic production had evaporated even as their demands skyrocketed.

Between the Russian and Khanate land-grabs and the Khanate air offensive, the P L A, P L A A F, P L A N and the PRC's struggling economy were creating a huge surge in foreign demand. Add the ISIL advances on Mosul in Iraq plus the Khanate's sudden appearance in the Middle East (Turkey and Azerbaijan) and commodity brokers were running scared.

"Can you give us any insight about their nuclear program?" Daniel (Russel) leaned forward in his chair. "Give us something useful for once."

"That is the most idiotic thing I've heard today," Javiera glared. "Everything Cáel has provided us has been both useful and timely."

"How can you say that?" Daniel stood up angrily. "No one seems to know what your taskforce is doing, in any of our department's areas of responsibility."

"That's not so," I shook my head. "Daniel, you don't know because I don't trust you to not squeal to the PRC about Khanate intentions."

"Since Cáel doesn't trust You, Mr. Russel, you and anyone who would confide in you is being kept out of the loop," Javiera simmered.

"That lack of interdepartmental cooperation stops now, Ms. Javiera," Tony decided.

"No sir," Javiera confronted him. "It was Mr. Ali-Sharif's call and I back him 100%. In JIKIT's case, a leak of information will result in a level of response from our current partners we would all find unacceptable."

"I think the President would see it differently," Tony yanked hard on Javiera's reins.

"Very well, Mr. Blinken. If that is how you feel, I can speak for the whole team and tell you right now, everyone will resign. We will do this because we don't want to have our loved ones killed when, inevitably, our partners determine their intelligence data is being used against their interests. Then they will start cauterizing anyone remotely associated with that leak," Javiera coolly 'read in' the room.

"You believe these associates of yours represent a 'clear and present' danger," Tony studied Javiera intently.

"Sir, I received a dossier on you this morning with my normal briefing. It was a simple affair ~ you and your wife's schedule for the day, your daughter's daycare location and a list of seven employees of that daycare center."

"They are threatening my family," Tony stood up slowly, pissed, not frightened.

"No threat was ever mentioned, Mr. Blinken. There was no indication how any of that information was gathered. It simply showed up as so many things do in JIKIT. Those people providing us with up to the minute intelligence around the globe aren't doing it for any monetary recompense.

"They are doing it because Mr. Nyilas needs them to give us that data. They are acting on a personal relationship with Cáel, origins unknown, and when we permanently lose him, we lose that access," she explained.

"And I jump on a private plane to Ireland," I added. The Emerald Isle was still granting me diplomatic status.

"Mr. Blinken, you might want to tell the agency currently investigating the three foreign nationals currently with the team, as well as the group investigating Havenstone Commercial Investments, that Havenstone is on to them and they do not appreciate our behavior," Javiera cautioned Tony.

"This is the United States, we know they maintain a small armed militia on our soil, have multinational assets and they have ties to a global terrorist network, Ms. Castello," Tony tried to remind her which side she was on.

"Those men and women are federal agents, like me, so I felt I had to warn you that they are becoming involved with violently inclined people," she stated. "You need to think what you are going to do when those agents start disappearing, Sir. I have no indications they have hostile intent toward us at this very minute. I can tell you they view the members of JIKIT as allies, but not our governments. So any protection our alliance gives us is of a personal nature."

"Are they, or are they not, working with your organization?" Bill muttered darkly.

"They are working with JIKIT," was her clipped reply.

"But they are not working with the President of the United States," Victoria reasoned.

"Precisely," Javiera looked her way. "Since the US doesn't recognize them as extra-territorial entities, or the Khanate's right to exist as a state, they see no reason to look past the task force on matters of individual loyalty and commitment."

"Atta, why are we here?" Aya looked past the bandage over her missing finger at me.

"These adults do not want to adapt. And failure to adapt is the clearest form of cultural suicide," she reasoned. "Now that we have our breathing room, do we still need these prominent people of great importance to the United States?"

The worst part of her questioning was that she sounded so tired and frail, yet determined and exasperated with her elders.

"Dumu, they live in a world were challenge is a "popularity contest" and the loser gets to go home with their fortunes, their futures and their lives. If they lose, they get to try again later, as long as one can be selected to take the blame for the rest. It is governance by the consensus of cultured intellectuals," I tried to put to a face to my own frustrations.

"Thank you, little girl," Tony headed off Daniel's angry retort.

"I do not wish to be rude, or impudent Mr. Blinken," she drew her pistol and pointed at Mr. Miller, the only other person with a weapon in the room. "Mr. Miller, I will kill you before you can draw so, for the sake of your family and your associates, please do not test my resolve."

"I am not a warrior. I am the child of warriors and I will act to protect my people. I do not wish to die. I know that after I dispose of you and Mr. Blinken, I will be arrested and I rely on my people to retrieve me when they are able," she stated.

"Don't say anything," I cautioned Daniel. My pleading was done with my eyes.

"Now, Mr. Blinken, who will replace you after I kill Mr. Miller and you?" Aya continued."

"Aya don't," Javiera tried to maneuver on Aya. My little Valkyrie had positioned herself too well to be rushed before she got off four shots ~ maybe five. "Cáel."

"Ms. Castello," Aya's eyes turned all misty and soulful, "the world is too small a place for this kind of hidebound thinking. I will be saddened if America destroys itself. I really like living here. My first instincts must be to defend my people, not yours. Answer my question, Mr. Blinken."

"Mr. Nyilas, this has been a crude and pathetic distraction," Tony glared at me.

"You aren't going to shoot Daniel?" I blithely questioned Aya.

"No Atta, the world is filled with too many assholes to run around shooting all of them. Ambition and loyalty are yin and yang. When they are imbalanced, what can we do but let him follow his destructive course," Aya answered.

"Cáel?" Javiera pressed me.

"Aya, disarm, deliver your weapon to Mr. Miller then step outside to receive whatever punishment he commands," I demanded with great sadness. Sometimes I still didn't get Amazons. Aya was acting like Pamela, acting, oh Hell.

Smoothly, Aya pointed her weapon to the ceiling, removed the magazine, chambered out the last round and delivered all three parts to Big Willy. He took in her actions with the eyes of a practiced shooter.

"Would you have killed me?" he inquired.

"You didn't attempt to draw your weapon so you will never know for sure, Mr. Miller," Aya regarded him sagely. "Do you think I would have killed you and Mr. Blinken?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I believe you would have."

"Miller, arrest that childe," Tony insisted.

"No sir," he turned on the head honcho. "It was my mistake that allowed a child to bring a suppressed Chinese pistol into this meeting because my people saw a small, damaged child. I was almost fatally wrong in my assessment of her."

"I will make sure to put that in my report," Tony threatened.

"Make sure you do that, Mr. Blinken," Big Willy stood firm. "Let the Boss know his chief of Diplomatic Security, every one of us mistook this tiny warrior for a harmless threat. I'm willing to admit I was wrong."

"Do we need any more proof these people are all terrorists?" Daniel Russel seethed.

"She gave up her weapon without a struggle," Victoria snapped back. "She showed remarkable decision-making for a, what, nine year old girl?"

"Yes Mrs. Nuland; I am nine. But I will be ten in October," she ended on an upbeat note.

"Fanatic," Daniel began feeling trapped and alone.

"I see a woman driven and fully aware of her situation in the World, Mr. Russel," Javiera remarked. "Because of your poor advice, Mr. Blinken almost died. That is what JIKIT is doing ~ keeping the adults of Aya's society thinking we are the good guys."

"Tony?" Daniel looked to the senior member in the room.

"Hold on Daniel," Tony held up his hand. "I'm grappling with the fact I was nearly deliberately killed by a child the same age as my oldest son."

Aya had pulled off a 'crazy Pamela'. Now I needed to keep her out of prison.

"I brought her in here knowing she was armed," I declared.

"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Nyilas," Miller glared at me. "You were also aware of her training and nature. She can't be arrested for treason, you can be."

"I was not acting under Cáel’s orders," Aya protested. "Javiera didn't know anything about what I planned to do either."

"Why is she 'Javiera' while we are Mr. and Mrs.?" Victoria asked.

"She's one of the good guys," Aya smiled at the lady. "The verdict is out on you and Mr. Miller. I don't hold out much hope for Mr. Blinken. Mr. Russel is a lost cause."

Everyone ceased talking as Tony began pacing back and forth.

"I think we have resolved enough for today," he announced. "Ms. Castello, make sure Mr. Nyilas is available for further consultations. In case you are confused by that order, let me make it clear: he is not to leave the country."

"Sorry Tony, I have to go to Brazil," I spouted off.

"It can wait," he stared at me.

"For you Tony, I'll make a conscious effort to not get kidnapped, or go all Soldier-of-Fortune on ya," I grinned. "After all, I voted for your guy."

"Oh God," Tony muttered. "Never tell anyone that."

"Sure thing. Can I have my Aya back now? She's all tuckered out. You know: tortured, dragged halfway around the globe, killed a plane load of vile villains, swam through a typhoon and was forced to eat MRE's. Oh, and it is past her bedtime."

"Mr. Miller?" Blinken looked to his subordinate.

"Take her," Big Willy sent my fey angel back to me. "But I'm going to keep the gun."

"We are adjourned," Tony waved us off as he quick-footed it to the door.

"I'm going to have Buffy kick your ass," Javiera whispered to me.

"Me?" Aya peeped, actually looking worried.

"No, him," her eyes flickered from Aya to me.

"Well, please don't do it soon. Cáel promised to sleep with my Mother."

"I did not," I protested.

"Yes, you did," Aya gave her version of events. "You said she was third in the rankings behind Desiree and Daphne."

"What kind of man are you?" Victoria walked with us out the door.

"One who is in big trouble," Javiera picked on me.

"I knew I would regret not getting eaten by a shark," I groused.

"Mr. Nyilas, Cáel, can I get in on a few of your briefings? I want to give you my input on the Caucasus issues that have arisen inside the Khanate," Victoria prodded.

"Sure," I yawned. "Clear it with your guy from State and I'll send you the invite. Honestly, I need to get some serious, non-jetlag shuteye."

"You have your meeting with the Kurds," Javiera reminded me.

"Dumu, if you really loved me, you would have shot me," I groaned.

"I love you Atta, but you have tasks to perform," Aya nestled up against me. I still had several hours of brain-racking work to do it seemed.

(Catching up on sleep and other things)

{11 pm Tuesday, Aug. 19th ~ 20 Days to go}

Monday night into Tuesday morning, I sold the Kurds on the idea that talking to the Khanate military advisors and 'regional specialists' (the Hashashin) was in their combined best interests. My ally in international warmongering was Addison Stuart this time out. She'd developed an instinct and respect for the Khanate's way of thinking and for 'direct action'. That meant 'my people' would talk to her without checking with me first ~ which was fine by me.

The Kurds were split on wanting: full independence, full independence down the line, the status quo and being a palatinate province within the Great Khanate. I was stressing the latter. Strangely it was my Friday night meeting with Georgia and Armenia that won them over to considering my way of thinking. They would arrange the meetings.

They had to hurry. On Saturday, September 13th, while I was being hunted down by bodacious Amazons, seven Khanate Tumens would be heading toward the Turkish border with Syria and Iraq. In theory, they would be joined by massed forces of Armenians and Georgians in the 'anti-ISIL/ISIS, anti-Syrian' Third Campaign of the First Unification War (the Middle East edition).

This would be the last gasp of the Khanate for some time. Her equipment was worn down, they needed to raise and equip new military formations and they still had to worry about Iran, who they didn't have the time or strength left to deal with in any way save diplomacy. If this campaign succeeded, and it couldn't without the Kurds coming on board, the Khanate would have a strong southern frontier.

They could trust Israel, Jordan and Saudi Arabia a hell of a lot more than they could trust Lebanon, Iraq and Syria. Sure, a Shia Iraq would remain. Let the UN and Iran figure out what to do with that oil-rich rump state. The Great Khan wanted as little to do with the Sunni/Shia divide as possible.

At the end of the campaign, the Khanate was going to make some religious enemies in the present to solidify their technological future. They would unilaterally acknowledge the State of Israel. They would also recognize that the Saud Royal family was the custodian of Mecca and Medina while Israel was the guardian of the third most holy site in Islam, Jerusalem.

As a final sign of friendship to the Jewish state, the Khanate was shipping out all the Palestinian refugees still in Lebanese and Syrian camps to China to join the Arabs of Mosul in repopulating the conquered regions. The Great Khan was making concrete steps to ending the 'Palestinian Question' once and for all. It was harsh, but it solved the issue by creating a 'New Palestinian Homeland'. It also assured Arab 'fear and loathing' of Mongols would be alive and well for one generation more, at the very least.

The millennia old hatred levied by Levant Arabs against the Turks and Mongols wasn't going to go away. This mass deportation wouldn't help with that, initially. The Khanate had two factors they were, quite frankly by this time it was the word 'praying', would help cool the situation over time.

First off, the sheer number of Arabs being sent to Xiang Uyghur meant a cultural identity would remain (so realistically, they couldn't be turned into atheistic Chinese). Secondly, the land they were being sent to was worth something economically, politically and militarily. The former Palestinians, Syrians and Iraqis could make their fortunes filling in the roles formerly occupied by the once economically advantaged, but now-banished Chinese.

Homes and businesses already existed, the remaining natives would be friendly, yet respectful of their cultural heritage and they would be safer than they had been in their former homelands, or refugee camps. They would be afraid for their future and the next round to Khanate-PRC violence. With the best spin on the situation, their fellow Islamic pilots would be flying against the infidel to keep them safe.

Civil war would be a thing of the past and their critical role in creating a new Khanate would be evident, or so the Khanate's leaders beseeched Allah, Buddha, Christ, shamanistic spirits and their ancestors. For me, that was in the far distant future (i.e. post Hunt). I had my own agenda and the moment we could move around the small jet taking us back to NYC, I put my plan into motion.

"Javiera, I think I really need a break from this insanity," I begged.

"Okay," she yawned.

"I know that everyone has been putting, did you say 'okay'?"

"Yes, Cáel," she gave a weary grin. "We were all expecting you to make the request and the team is willing to muddle through for a week or two without you."

"I, uh, thanks," I slouched in my seat. "I'm not letting anyone down?"

"No Cáel," she responded with some mirth. "You've been through more hell with less training than anyone else on the team. Color Sgt. Tomorrow has been especially worried about you trying too hard to be, well, more like him."

"Oh."

"He trained for years in the military to be mentally and physically fit enough to take this kind of grinding action," she reminded me. "You aren't prepared for this. I am a veteran prosecutor and I'm being mentally ground down. I'm taking a break next weekend and unwinding at an undisclosed location. Rikki is afraid that if she takes a break, Mr. Russel will replace her with one of his clones. We are doing what we can for her."

"Fathom and Addison couldn't be happier to be living under this constant level of stress, but this is precisely what they volunteered for. The rest have agreed that they will pull their 365, then they are out ~ either out of the country, or asking to be reassigned, provided we aren't on the run, or in jail."

"I'm not going to argue with you," I sighed happily. "I'm going to take my Aya and go home." Aya's eyes had shut the moment the plane started taxing down the runway.

"So, what are you going to do on your seven days off?" Javiera asked.

"Not fourteen?" I teased. "Okay, I'm going to go back to work," I grinned. "I'm going to fulfill the role I was hired for ~ a gopher. It was where I was happiest."

"I'm proud of you," she grinned then yawned once more.

"Why?"

"The top two choices for what you would do were 'running for your life' and a weeklong orgy," she joked. "You aren't burying yourself in doubt and self-pity. Staying active is key and you knew that instinctively ~ no prodding necessary."

"Cool. I'm finally living up to people's expectations."

Javiera gave one more tired yawn, smiled at me, then slid her seat to the horizontal position. I still had one last bit of business to deal with. Pamela was three rows back and waiting. Since joining me in Los Angeles, she had been utterly silent. We had not had a chance to be alone.

We sat side by side on the small jet for a few minutes. Pamela was waiting for Javiera to start snoring.

(Amazon) "I almost killed her," she whispered. Her trust of even the people who we thought were our allies was at an all-time low.

(Amazon) "I was afraid you'd figure out she was involved," I sighed. We were talking about Katrina. Pamela had deduced that Katrina had set me and Aya up to be kidnapped. Among the Amazons, only Pamela's mind was equally twisted enough to have figured it out.

"I will figure out how to handle things," I said in English. "We should both be worried about what Grandpa is going to do when he figures it out as well. He's not going to be happy with anyone killing me but him."

"I had thought of that," she gave me a Reaper's smile. It chilled me to my core.

"I approve of what happened," I stressed. "I didn't know. And if I had, I would have never been a party to any of this. It has happened and I'll deal with this."

"I know. That's why a certain someone hasn't killed me, or stopped breathing," Pamela patted my thigh gently. "Stop taking such risks."

"You would not have believed the size of those waves," I altered the course of our conversation. "I swear some of those were over twenty-five feet high."

"Humph."

"Aya went flying."

"Humph."

"She never let go of our medical supplies. She was a real trooper."

"Tell her that," Pamela said after a deep breath. "She worships the ground you walk on. I believe her faith is not misplaced."

"Next time we are taking swimsuits and boogie boards."

 To be continued.

By FinalStand for Literotica.