Podcasts about Barring

Fran Duffy is here and he's ready to talk about the big uglies in the middle like Tyler Booker, Grey Zabel, Tate Ratledge, Donovan Jackson, Jared Wilson, Miles Frazier, Jackson Slater, Wyatt Milum and more. Barring a stud offensive tackle, would Howie Roseman aim to fortify the offensive line with an early-round pick inside? Join Fran, Zach Berman and Bo Wulf as the road to Round 1 rolls on.

An advantage to recording late is we can always touch upon the latest news. So, instead of touching upon the Tories dropping Net Zero, marking a departure of bipartisan unity, we spoke about Marie Le Pen, leader of Rassemblement National and president in waiting, has been barred for standing for election for 5 years. What does this mean for the Far Right in Europe? Who supported her? How will our Hosts react? The answers won't surprise you!In closer news, our hosts also touch upon the cutting to the Welfare State. Needless to say, we aren't happy about itJoin us as we touch upon the latest news.

Can You Segway?Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.So exactly who was going to be sympathetic to their plight, who we cared about?Beyond my fevered dream of making a difference there was a pinch of reality. See, the Cabindans and the people of Zaire were both ethnic Bakongo and the Bakongo of Zaire had also once had their own, independent (until 1914) kingdom which was now part of Angola. The Bakongo were major factions in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) -(formerly for a short time known as the nation of Zaire, from here on out to be referred to as the DRC and in the running for the most fucked up place on the planet Earth, more on that later)- and Congo (the nation) yet a minority in Angola. Having an independent nation united along ethnic and linguistic lines made sense and could expect support from their confederates across international boundaries.The Liberation Air ForceThe Earth & Sky operated under one constant dilemma ~ when would Temujin make his return? Since they didn't know and it was their job to be prepared for the eventuality if it happened tomorrow, or a century down the line, they 'stockpiled', and 'stockpiled' and 'stockpiled'.That was why they maintained large horse herds and preserved the ancient arts of Asian bowyers, armoring and weapons-craft. That was why they created secret armories, and sulfur and saltpeter sites when musketry and cannons became the new ways of warfare. They secured sources of phosphates and petroleum when they became the new thing, and so on.All of this boiled over to me being shown yet again I worked with clever, creative and under-handed people. The Khanate came up with a plan for a 'Union' Air Force {Union? More on that later} within 24 hours, and it barely touched any of their existing resources. How did they accomplish this miracle? They had stockpiled and maintained earlier generation aircraft because they didn't know when Temujin would make his re-appearance.They'd also trained pilots and ground crews for those aircraft. As you might imagine, those people grew old just as their equipment did. In time, they went into the Earth & Sky's Inactive Reserves ~ the rank & file over the age of 45. You never were 'too old' to serve in some capacity though most combat-support related work ended at 67.When Temujin made his return and the E&S transformed into the Khanate, those people went to work bringing their lovingly cared for, aging equipment up to combat-alert readiness. If the frontline units were decimated, they would have to serve, despite the grim odds of their survival. It was the terrible acceptance the Chinese would simply possess so much more war-making material than they did.Well, the Khanate kicked the PRC's ass in a titanic ass-whooping no one (else) had seen coming, or would soon forget. Factory production and replacement of worn machines was in stride to have the Khanate's Air Force ready for the next round of warfare when the Cease-fire ended and the Reunification War resumed.Always a lower priority, the Khanate military leadership was considering deactivating dozens of these reserve unit when suddenly the (Mongolian) Ikh khaany khairt akh dáé (me) had this hare-brained scheme about helping rebels in Africa, West Africa, along the Gulf of Guinea coast/Atlantic Ocean, far, far away, and it couldn't look like the Khanate was directly involved.They barely knew where Angola was. They had to look up Cabinda to figure out precisely where that was. They brought in some of their 'reservist' air staff to this briefing and one of them, a woman (roughly a third of the E&S 'fighting'/non-frontline forces were female), knew what was going on. Why?She had studied the combat records and performance of the types of aircraft she'd have to utilize... back in the 1980's and 90's and Angola had been a war zone rife with Soviet (aka Khanate) material back then. Since she was both on the ball, bright and knew the score, the War Council put her in overall command. She knew what was expected of her and off she went, new staff in hand. She was 64 years old, yet as ready and willing to serve as any 20 year old believer in the Cause.Subtlety, scarcity and audacity were the watchwords of the day. The Khanate couldn't afford any of their front-line aircraft for this 'expedition'. They really couldn't afford any of their second-rate stuff either. Fortunately, they had some updated third-rate war-fighting gear still capable of putting up an impressive show in combat ~ providing they weren't going up against a top tier opponents.For the 'volunteers' of the Union Air Force, this could very likely to be a one-way trip. They all needed crash courses (not a word any air force loves, I know) in Portuguese though hastily provided iPhones with 'apps' to act as translators were deemed to be an adequate stop-gap measure. Besides, they were advised to avoid getting captured at all cost. The E&S couldn't afford the exposure. Given the opportunity ~ this assignment really was going above and beyond ~ not one of these forty-six to sixty-seven year olds backed out.No, they rolled out fifty of their antiquated aircraft, designs dating back to the 1950's through the mid-70's, and prepared them for the over 10,000 km journey to where they were 'needed most'. 118 pilots would go (72 active plus 46 replacements) along with 400 ground crew and an equally aged air defense battalion (so their air bases didn't get blown up). Security would be provided by 'outsiders' ~ allies already on the ground and whatever rebels could be scrounged up. After the initial insertion, the Indian Air Force would fly in supplies at night into the Cabinda City and Soyo Airports.The composition,14 Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21 jet fighters ~ though she entered service in 1959, these planes' electronics were late 20th century and she was a renowned dogfighter. 12 were the Mig-21-97 modernized variant and the other two were Mig-21 UM two-seater trainer variants which could double as reconnaissance fighters if needed.14 Sukhoi Su-22 jet fighter-bombers ~ the original design, called the Su-17, came out in 1970, the first 12 were variants with the 22M4 upgrade were an early-80's package. The other 2 were Su-22U two-seat trainers which, like their Mig-21 comrades, doubled as reconnaissance fighters. The Su-22M4's would be doing the majority of the ground attack missions for the Cabindans, though they could defend themselves in aerial combat if necessary.6 Sukhoi Su-24M2 supersonic attack aircraft ~ the first model rolled off the production lines in the Soviet Union back in 1974. By far the heaviest planes in the Cabindan Air Force, the Su-24M2's would act as their 'bomber force' as well as anti-ship deterrence.8 Mil Mi-24 VM combat helicopters ~ introduced in 1972 was still a lethal combat machine today. Unlike the NATO helicopter force, the Mi-24's did double duty as both attack helicopter and assault transports at the same time.4 Mil Mi-8 utility helicopters, first produced in 1967. Three would act as troop/cargo transports (Mi-8 TP) while the fourth was configured as a mobile hospital (the MI-17 1VA).4 Antonov An-26 turboprop aircraft, two to be used as tactical transports to bring in supplies by day and two specializing in electronic intelligence aka listening to what the enemy was up to. Though it entered production in 1969, many still remained flying today.2 Antonov An-71M AEW&C twin-jet engine aircraft. These were an old, abandoned Soviet design the Earth & Sky had continued working on primarily because the current (1970's) Russian Airborne Early Warning and Control bird had been both huge and rather ineffective ~ it couldn't easily identify low-flying planes in the ground clutter so it was mainly only good at sea. Since the E&S planned to mostly fight over the land,They kept working on the An-71 which was basically 1977's popular An-72 with some pertinent design modifications (placing the engines below the wings instead of above them as on the -72 being a big one). To solve their radar problem, they stole some from the Swedish tech firm Ericsson, which hadn't been foreseen to be a problem before now.See, the Russians in the post-Soviet era created a decent AEW&C craft the E&S gladly stole and copied the shit out of for their front line units and it was working quite nicely ~ the Beriev A-50, and wow, were the boys in the Kremlin pissed off about that these days. Whoops, or was that woot?Now, the Khanate was shipping two An-71's down to Cabinda and somewhere along the line someone just might get a 'feel' for the style of radar and jamming the Cabindans were using aka the Swedish stuff in those An-71's. The Erieye radar system could pick out individual planes at 280 miles. The over-all system could track 60 targets and plot out 10 intercepts simultaneously. NATO, they were not, but in sub-Saharan Africa, there were none better.Anyway, so why was any of this important?Why the old folks with their ancient machines? As revealed, since the Earth & Sky had no idea when Temüjin would return, they were constantly squirreling away equipment. World War 2 gave them unequaled access to Soviet military technology and training.Afterwards, under Josef Stalin's direction, thousands of Russian and German engineers and scientists were exiled to Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan who were then snatched up (reportedly died in the gulags/trying to escape) and the E&S began building mirror factories modeled on the 'then current' Soviet production lines.So, by the early 1950's, the E&S was building, flying and maintaining Soviet-style Antonov, Beriev, Ilyushin, Myasishchev, Mikoyan-Gurevich, Sukhoi, Tupolev and Yakovlev airplanes. First in small numbers because their pool of pilots and specialists was so small.The E&S remedied this by creating both their own 'private' flight academies and technical schools. They protected their activities with the judicious use of bribes (they were remarkably successful with their economic endeavors on both side of the Iron Curtain) and murders (including the use of the Ghost Tigers).By 1960, the proto-Khanate had an air force. Through the next two decades they refined and altered their doctrine ~ moving away from the Soviet doctrine to a more pure combined-arms approach (the Soviets divided their air power into four separate arms ~ ADD (Long Range Aviation), FA (Front Aviation), MTA (Military Transport Aviation) and the V-PVO (Soviet Air Defenses ~ which controlled air interceptors).).It wasn't until the collapse of the Soviet Union and the independence of the various former SSR's that the E&S program really began to hit its stride. Still, while Russia faltered, China's PLAAF (Peoples' Liberation Army Air Force) began to take off. Since the Chinese could produce so much more, the E&S felt it had to keep those older planes and crews up to combat readiness. The younger field crews and pilots flew the newer models as they rolled off the secret production lines.Then the Unification War appeared suddenly, the E&S-turned Khanate Air Force skunked their PLAAF rivals due to two factors, a surprise attack on a strategic level and the fatal poisoning of their pilots and ground crews before they even got into the fight. For those Chinese craft not destroyed on the ground, the effects of Anthrax eroded their fighting edge. Comparable technology gave the Khanate their critical victory and Air Supremacy over the most important battlefields.What did this meant for those out-of-date air crews and pilots who had been training to a razor's edge for a month now? Their assignment had been to face down the Russians if they invaded. They would take their planes up into the fight even though this most likely would mean their deaths, but they had to try.When Operation Fun House put Russia in a position where she wasn't likely to jump on the Khanate, this mission's importance faded. The Russian Air Force was far more stretched than the Khanate's between her agitations in the Baltic and her commitments in the Manchurian, Ukrainian, Chechen and Georgian theaters.With more new planes rolling off the production lines, these reservist units began dropping down the fuel priority list, which meant lowering their flight times thus readiness. Only my hare-brained scheme had short-circuited their timely retirement. Had I realized I was getting people's grandparents killed, I would have probably made the same call anyway. We needed them.The KanateThe Khanate's #1 air superiority dogfighter was the Mig-35F. The #2 was the Mig-29. No one was openly discussing the Khanate's super-stealthy "Su-50", if that was what it was, because its existence 'might' suggest the Khanate also stole technology from the Indian defense industry, along with their laundry list of thefts from South Korea, Japan, Taiwan, the PRC, Russia and half of NATO.Her top multi-role fighters were the Su-47, Su-35S and Su-30SM. The Su-30 'Flanker-C/MK2/MKI were their 2nd team with plenty of 3rd team Su-27M's still flying combat missions as well.Strike fighters? There weren't enough Su-34's to go around yet, so the Su-25MS remained the Khanate's dedicated Close Air Assault model.Medium transport aircraft? The An-32RE and An-38. They had small, large and gargantuan transports as well.Bombers? The rather ancient jet-powered Tu-160M2's and Tu-22M2's as well as the even older yet still worthwhile turboprops ~ from 1956's ~ the Tu-95M S16.Helicopters? While they still flew updated variants of the Mil Mi-8/17 as military transports, the more optimized Kamov Ka-52 and Mil Mi-28 had replaced them in the assault role.Bizarrely, the Khanate had overrun several Chinese production lines of the aircraft frames and components ~ enough to complete fairly modern PLAAF (Peoples Liberation Army Air Force) FC-1 and J-10 (both are small multi-role fighter remarkably similar to the US F-16 with the FC-1 being the more advanced model, using shared Chinese-Pakistani technology and was designed for export,).They did have nearly two dozen to send, but they didn't have the pilots and ground crews trained to work with them, plus the FC-1 cost roughly $32 million which wasn't fundage any legitimate Cabindan rebels could get their hands on, much less $768 million (and that would just be for the planes, not the weeks' worth of fuel, parts and munitions necessary for what was forthcoming).Meanwhile, except for the An-26, which you could get for under $700,000 and the An-71, which were only rendered valuable via 'black market tech', none of the turboprop and jet aircraft the Khanate was sending were what any sane military would normally want. The helicopters were expensive ~ the 'new' models Mi-24's cost $32 million while the Mi-17's set you back $17 million. The one's heading to Cabinda didn't look 'new'.The Opposition:In contrast, the Angolan Air Force appeared far larger and more modern. Appearances can be deceptive, and they were. Sure, the models of Russian and Soviet-made aircraft they had in their inventory had the higher numbers ~ the Su-25, -27 and -30 ~ plus they had Mig-21bis's, Mig-23's and Su-22's, but things like training and up-keep didn't appear to be priorities for the Angolans.When you took into account the rampant corruption infecting all levels of Angolan government, the conscript nature of their military, the weakness of their technical educational system, the complexity of any modern combat aircraft and the reality that poor sods forced into being Air Force ground crewmen hardly made the most inspired technicians, or most diligent care-takers of their 'valuable' stockpiles (which their officers all too often sold on the black market anyway), things didn't just look bleak for the Angolan Air Force, they were a tsunami of cumulative factors heading them for an epic disaster.It wasn't only their enemies who derided their Air Force's lack of readiness. Their allies constantly scolded them about it too. Instead of trying to fix their current inventory, the Angolans kept shopping around for new stuff. Since 'new'-new aircraft was beyond what they wanted to spend (aka put too much of a dent in the money they were siphoning off to their private off-shore accounts), they bought 'used' gear from former Soviet states ~ Belarus, Russia and Ukraine ~ who sold them stuff they had left abandoned in revetments (open to the elements to slowly rot) on the cheap.To add to the insanity, the Angolans failed to keep up their maintenance agreements so their newly fixed high-tech machines often either couldn't fly, or flew without critical systems, like radar, avionics and even radios. Maybe that wasn't for the worst because after spending millions on these occasionally-mobile paperweights, the Angolans bought the least technologically advanced missile, gun and rocket systems they could get to put on these flying misfortunes.On the spread sheets, Angola had 18 Su-30K's, 18 Su-27, 12 Su-25's, 14 Su-22's, 22 Mig-23's, 23 Mig-21bis's and 6 Embraer EMB 314 Super Tucano (a turboprop aircraft tailor-made for counter-insurgency operations), 105 helicopters with some combative ability and 21 planes with some airlift capacity. That equated to 81 either air superiority, or multi-role jet fighters versus the 12 Union Air Force (actually the Bakongo Uni o de Cabinda e Zaire, For as Armadas de Liberta  o, For a Area ~ Liberation Armed Forces, Air Force (BUCZ-FAL-FA) Mig-21-97's.It would seem lopsided except for the thousands of hours of flight experience the 'Unionists' enjoyed over their Angolan rivals. You also needed to take into account the long training and fanatic dedication of their ground crews to their pilots and their craft. Then you needed to take into account every Unionist aircraft, while an older airframe design, had updated (usually to the year 2000) technology lovingly cared for, as if the survival of their People demanded it.A second and even more critical factor was the element of surprise. At least the PRC and the PLAAF had contingencies for attacks from their neighbors in the forefront of their strategic planning. The Angolans? The only country with ANY air force in the vicinity was the Republic of South Africa (RSA) and they had ceased being a threat with the end of Apartheid and the rise of majority Black rule in that country nearly two decades earlier.In the pre-dawn hours of 'Union Independence Day', the FAL-FA was going to smash every Angolan Air base and air defense facility within 375 miles of Cabinda (the city). Every three hours after that, they would be hitting another target within their designated 'Exclusion Zone'. Yes, this 'Exclusion Zone' included a 'tiny' bit of DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) territory. The DRC didn't have an air force to challenge them though, so,Inside this 'Exclusion Zone', anything moving by sea, river, road, rail, or air without Unionist governmental approval was subject to attack, which would require neutral parties to acknowledge some semblance of a free and independent B U C Z. Worse for Angola, this 'Zone' included Angola's capital and its largest port, Luanda, plus four more of their ten largest urban centers. This could be an economic, military and humanitarian catastrophe if mishandled.The Angolan Army did not have significant anti-aircraft assets. Why would they? Remember, no one around them had much of an air force to worry about. The FAL-FA in turn could hit military convoys with TV-guided munitions 'beyond line of sight', rendering what they did have useless. It got worse for the Army after dark. The FAL-FA could and would fly at night whereas the average Angolan formation had Zip-Zero-Nadda night fighting capacity.Then geography added its own mountain of woes. As far as Cabinda was concerned, there was no direct land line to their border from Angola. Their coastal road only went as far as the port of Soyo where the Congo River hit the South Atlantic Ocean. Across that massive gap was the DRC where the road was not picked back up. Far up the coast was the DRC town of Muanda (with an airport) and though they did have a road which went north, it did not continue to the Cabindan border.Nope. To get at Cabinda from the south meant a long, torturous travel through northeastern Angola, into the heart of the DRC then entailed hooking west to some point 'close' to the Cabindan frontier before finally hoofing it overland through partially cleared farmland and jungle. Mind you, the DRC didn't have a native air force capable of protecting the Angolans in their territory so,In fact the only 'road' to Cabinda came from the Republic of Congo (Congo) to the north and even that was a twisted route along some really bad, swampy terrain. This had been the pathway of conquest the Angolans took 39 years earlier. The difference being the tiny bands of pro-independence Cabindan guerillas back then couldn't hold a candle to the Amazons fighting to free Cabinda this time around in numbers, zeal, training and up-to-date equipment.Next option ~ to come by sea. They would face a few, stiff problems, such as the FAL-FA having ship-killer missiles, the Angolan Navy not being able to defend them and the Unionists having no compunction to not strike Pointe-Noire in the 'not so neutral' Republic of the Congo if they somehow began unloading Angolan troops. It seemed the Republic of the Congo didn't have much of an Air Force either.Before you think the FAL-FA was biting off more than they could chew, Cabinda, the province, was shaped somewhat like the US State of Delaware, was half the size of Connecticut (Cabinda was 2,810 sq. mi. to Conn.'s 5,543 sq. mi.) and only the western 20% was relatively open countryside where the Angolan Army's only advantage ~ they possessed armed fighting vehicles while the 'Unionists' did not (at this stage of planning) ~ could hopefully come into play.Centered at their capital, Cabinda (City), jets could reach any point along their border within eight minutes. Helicopters could make it in fifteen. To be safe, some of the FAL-FA would base at the town of Belize which was in the northern upcountry and much tougher to get at with the added advantage the Angolans wouldn't be expecting the FAL-FA to be using the abandoned airfield there, at least initially.Where they afraid attacking Angolan troops in the DRC would invite war with the DRC? Sure, but letting the Angolans reach the border unscathed was worse. Besides, the DRC was in such a mess it needed 23,000 UN Peacekeepers within her borders just to keep the country from falling apart. Barring outside, read European, intervention, did "Democratically-elected since 2001" President (for Life) Joseph Kabila want the FAL-FA to start dropping bombs on his capital, Kinshasa, which was well within reach of all their aircraft?Congo (the country), to the north, wasn't being propped up by the UN, or anything else except ill intentions. In reality, it hardly had much of a military at all. Its officer corps was chosen for political reliability, not merit, or capability. Their technology was old Cold War stuff with little effort to update anything and, if you suspected corruption might be a problem across all spectrums of life, you would 'probably' be right about that too.If you suspected the current President had been in charge for a while, you would be correct again (1979-1992 then 2001- and the 'whoops' was when he accidently let his country experiment with democracy which led to two civil wars). If you suspected he was a life-long Communist (along with the Presidents of the DRC and Angola), you'd be right about that as well. Somehow their shared Marxist-Leninist-Communist ideology hadn't quite translated over to alleviating the grinding poverty in any of those countries despite their vast mineral wealth,At this point in the region's history, little Cabinda had everything to gain by striving for independence and the vast majority of 'warriors' who could possibly be sent against her had terribly little to gain fighting and dying trying to stop them from achieving her goal. After all, their lives weren't going to get any better and with the Amazons ability ~ nay willingness ~ to commit battlefield atrocities, those leaders were going to find it hard going to keep sending their men off to die.And then, it got even worse.See, what I had pointed out was there were two oil refineries in Angola, and neither was in Cabinda. Cabinda would need a refinery to start making good on their oil wealth ~ aka economically bribe off the Western economies already shaken over the Khanate's first round of aggressions.But wait! There was an oil refinery just across the Congo River from Cabinda ~ which meant it was attached to mainland Angola. That had to be a passel of impossible news, right?Nope. As I said earlier, it seemed the people of northern Angola were the same racial group as the Cabindans AND majority Catholic while the ruling clique wasn't part of their ethnic confederacy plus the farther south and east into Angola you went, the less Catholic it became.But it got better. This province was historically its own little independent kingdom (called the Kingdom of Kongo) to boot! It had been abolished by Portugal back in 1914.The 'good' news didn't end there. Now, it wasn't as if the leadership of Angola was spreading the wealth around to the People much anyway, but these northerners had been particularly left out of this Marxist version of 'Trickle Down' economics.How bad was this? This northwestern province ~ called Zaire ~ didn't have any railroads, or paved roads, linking it to the rest of the freaking country. The 'coastal road' entered the province, but about a third of the way up ran into this river, which they'd failed to bridge (you had to use a single track bridge farther to the northeast, if you can believe it). It wasn't even a big river. It was still an obstacle though.How did the Angolan government and military planned to get around? Why by air and sea, of course. Well, actually by air. Angola didn't have much of a merchant marine, or Navy, to make sealift a serious consideration. Within hours of the 'Union Declaration of Independence' anything flying anywhere north of the Luanda, the capital of Angola, would essentially be asking to be blown out of the sky.Along the border between Zaire province and the rest of Angola were precisely two chokepoints. By 'chokepoints', I meant places where a squad (10 trained, modernly-equipped troopers) could either see everything for miles & miles over pretty much empty space along a river valley and the only bridge separating Zaire province from the south, or overlook a ravine which the only road had to pass through because of otherwise bad-ass, broken terrain.Two.Zaire Province had roughly the same population as Cabinda ~ 600,000. Unlike Cabinda, which consisted of Cabinda City plus a few tiny towns and rugged jungles, Zaire had two cities ~ Soyo, with her seventy thousand souls plus the refinery at the mouth of the Congo River, and M'banza-Kongo, the historical capital of the Kingdom of Kongo, spiritual center of the Bakongo People (who included the Cabindans) and set up in the highlands strategically very reminiscent of Điện Biàn Phủ.Of Zaire's provincial towns, the only other strategic one was N'Zeto with her crappy Atlantic port facility and 2,230 meter grass airport. The town was the northern terminus of the National Road 100 ~ the Coastal Road. It terminated because of the Mebridege River. There wasn't a bridge at N'Zeto though there was a small one several miles upstream. N'Zeto was also where the road from provinces east of Zaire ended up, so you had to have N'Zeto ~ and that tiny bridge ~ to move troops overland anywhere else in Zaire Province.So you would think it would be easy for the Angolan Army to defend then, except of how the Amazons planned to operate. They would infiltrate the area first then 'rise up in rebellion'. Their problem was the scope of the operation had magnified in risk of exposure, duration and forces necessary for success.The serious issue before Saint Marie and the Host in Africa were the first two. They could actually move Amazons from Brazil and North America to bolster their numbers for the upcoming offensive. Even in the short-short term, equipment wouldn't be a serious problem. What the Amazons dreaded was being left in a protracted slugfest with the Angolan Army which the Condottieri could jump in on. The Amazons exceedingly preferred to strike first then vanish.There was reason to believe a tiny number could have stayed behind in Cabinda to help the locals prepare their military until they could defend themselves. They would need more than a hundred Amazons if Cabinda wanted to incorporate Zaire. The answer was to call back their newfound buddy, the Great Khan. While he didn't have much else he could spare (the Khanate was ramping up for their invasion of the Middle East after all, the Kurds needed the help), he had other allies he could call on.India couldn't help initially since they were supposed to supply the 'Peace-keepers' once a cease-fire had been arranged. That left Temujin with his solid ally, Vietnam, and his far shakier allies, the Republic of China and Japan.First off ~ Japan could not help, which meant they couldn't supply troops who might very well end up dead, or far worse, captured.. What they did have was a surplus of older equipment the ROC troops were familiar with, so while the ROC was gearing up for their own invasion of mainland China in February, they were willing to help the Chinese kill Angolans, off the books, of course.The ROC was sending fifteen hundred troops the Khanate's way to help in this West African adventure with the understanding they'd be coming home by year's end. With Vietnam adding over eight hundred of her own Special Forces, the Amazons had the tiny 'allied' army they could leave shielding Cabinda/Zaire once the first round of blood-letting was over.To be 'fair', the Republic of China and Vietnam asked for 'volunteers'. It wasn't like either country was going to declare war on Angola directly. Nearly a thousand members of Vietnam's elite 126th Regiment of the 5th Brigade (Đặc cáng bộ) took early retirement then misplaced their equipment as they went to update their visas and inoculations before heading out for the DRC (some would be slipping over the DRC/Cabindan border).On Taiwan, it was the men and women of the 602nd Air Cavalry Brigade, 871st Special Operations Group and 101st Amphibious Reconnaissance Battalion who felt the sudden desire to 'seek enlightenment elsewhere, preferably on another continent'.They too were off to the Democratic Republic of Congo, man that country was a mess and their border security wasn't worth writing home about, that's for damn sure, via multiple Southeast Asian nations. Besides, they were being issued fraudulently visas which showed them to be from the People's Republic of China, not the ROC/Taiwan. If they were captured, they were to pretend to "be working for a Communist Revolution inside Angola and thus to be setting all of Africa on fire!" aka be Mainland Chinese.There, in the DRC, these Chinese stumbled across, some Japanese. These folks hadn't retired. No. They were on an extended assignment for the UN's mission in, the DRC. OH! And look! They'd brought tons of surplus, outdated Japanese Self Defense Forces' equipment with them, and there just so happened to be some Taiwanese who had experience in using such equipment (both used US-style gear).And here was Colonel Yoshihiro Isami of the Chūō Sokuō Shūdan (Japan's Central Readiness Force) wondering why he and his hastily assembled team had just unloaded,18 Fuji/Bell AH-1S Cobra Attack helicopters,6 Kawasaki OH-6D Loach Scout helicopters,12 Fuji-Bell 204-B-2 Hiyodori Utility helicopters,6 Kawasaki/Boeing CH-47JA Chinook Transport helicopters and4 Mitsubishi M U-2L-1 Photo Reconnaissance Aircraft.Yep! 46 more aircraft for the FAL-FA!Oh, and if this wasn't 'bad enough', the Chinese hadn't come alone. They'd brought some old aircraft from their homes to aid in the upcoming struggle. Once more, these things were relics of the Cold War yet both capable fighting machines and, given the sorry state of the opposition, definitely quite deadly. A dozen F-5E Tiger 2000 configured primarily for air superiority plus two RF-5E Tigergazer for reconnaissance, pilots plus ground crews, of course.Thus, on the eve of battle, the FAL-FA had become a true threat. Sure, all of its planes (and half of its pilots) were pretty old, but they were combat-tested and in numbers and experience no other Sub-Saharan African nation could match.The Liberation Ground Forces:But wait, there was still the niggling little problem of what all those fellas were going to fight with once they were on the ground. Assault/Battle rifles, carbines, rifles, pistols, PDW, SMGs as bullets, grenades and RPG's were all terrifyingly easy to obtain. The coast of West Africa was hardly the Port of London as far as customs security went. They were going to need some bigger toys and their host nations were going to need all their native hardware for their upcoming battles at home.And it wasn't like you could advertise for used IFV (Infantry Fighting Vehicles), APCs (armored personnel carriers) and tanks on e-Bay, Amazon.com, or Twitter. If something modern US, or NATO, was captured rolling around the beautiful Angolan countryside, shooting up hostile Angolans, all kinds of head would roll in all kinds of countries, unless the country,A) had an Executive Branch and Judiciary who wouldn't ask (or be answering) too many uncomfortable questions,B) wasn't all that vulnerable to international pressure,C) really needed the money and,D) didn't give a fuck their toys would soon be seen on BBC/CNN/Al Jazeera blowing the ever-living crap out of a ton of Africans aka doing what they were advertised to do and doing it very well in the hands of capable professionals.And politics was kind enough to hand the freedom-loving people of Cabinda & Zaire a winner, and it wasn't even from strangers, or at least people all that strange to their part of the Globe. If you would have no idea who to look for, you wouldn't be alone.That was the magic of the choice. See, the last three decades had seen the entire Globe take a colossal dump on them as a Nation and a People. They were highly unpopular for all sorts of things, such as Crimes Against Humanity and 'no', we were not talking about the Khanate.We would be talking about Република Србија / Republika Srbija aka Serbia aka the former Yugoslavia who had watched all their satellite minions (Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Montenegro, Kosovo and Macedonia) slip away. Despite being reduced to a tiny fraction of their former selves thus fighting two incredibly brutal and bloody World Wars for nothing, Serbia insisted on maintaining a robust armaments industry.Mind you, they didn't make the very best stuff on the planet. That didn't stop them from trying though. Of equal importance was their geographic location and the above mentioned desire for some hard currency without asking too many questions. The geography was simple, you could move even heavy gear unnoticed from central Serbia to the Montenegrin port of Bar by rail and load them up on freighters and off to the Congo you went.The Serbians produced an APC called the BVP M-80A's which weren't blowing anyone's minds away when they started rolling off the production lines back in 1982, plus some over-eager types on the Serbian Army's payroll sweetened the deal by offering 'the rebels' some BVP M-80 KC's and a KB as well.Then they slathered on the sugary-sweet Maple syrup by upgrading a few of the M-80A's to BVP M-98A's. Why would they be so generous? The KC's and KB were the Command & Control variants, so that made sense (C = company & B = battalion commander). The -98A had never been tested in the field before and they were kind of curious how the new turrets (which was the major difference) would behave. 'Our' procurement agents didn't quibble. We needed the gear.Besides, these Slavic entrepreneurs gave them an inside track on some 'disarmed/mothballed' Czech (introduced in 1963) armored mobile ambulances and Polish BWP-1 (first rolled out in 1966) APC's which were either in, or could be quickly configured into, the support variants those ground-fighters would need. The 'disarmed' part was 'fixable', thanks to both the Serbians and Finland. The 'missing' basic weaponry was something the Serbians could replace with virtually identical equipment.It just kept getting better. Unknown to me at the time, the Finnish firm, Patria Hágglunds, had sold twenty-two of their 'most excellent' AMOS turrets ~ they are a twin 120 mm mortar system ~ then the deal fell through. Whoops! Should have guarded that warehouse better. Those bitches were on a cargo plane bound for Albania inside of six hours.The ammunition for them was rather unique. Thankfully, it was uniquely sold by the Swiss, who had no trouble selling it to Serbia, thank you very much! Twenty-two BWP-1's became mobile artillery for the Unionist freedom fighters, though I understood the ship ride with the Serbian and Chinese technicians was loads of fun as they struggled to figured out how to attach those state-of-the-art death-dealing turrets to those ancient contraptions.To compensate, the Serbians added (aka as long as our money was good) two Nora B-52 155 mm 52-calibre mobile artillery pieces and one battery of Orkan CER MLRS (Multiple Launch Rocket System) for long-range artillery, two batteries of their Oganj 2000 ER MRLS for medium range carnage and six batteries of their M-94 MRLS for 'close support' as well. More field-testing new gear for the "freedom fighters" We also managed to 'purchase' ten M-84AS Main Battle tanks plus an M-84A1 armor recovery vehicle. It should have been twelve tanks, but two had 'loading issues'.Not to be deterred, our busy little procurement-beavers discovered four tanks no one was using, in neighboring Croatia. Why wasn't anyone immediately keen on their placement? They were two sets of prototypes, Croatia's improvements on the M-84; the M-95 Degman which was a 'failed redesign' and the M-84D, which was a vast up-grade for the M-84 line which had been sidelined by the 2008 Global economic collapse, after which the project stagnated.It seemed they were all in working order because late one night 'my people' exited a Croatian Army base with them, never to be seen again, until two weeks later when an intrepid news crew caught the distinctive form of the M-95 sending some sweet 125 mm loving the Angolan Army's way. Whoops yet again! At least they hit what they were aiming at and destroyed what they hit, right?By then, millions of other people would be going 'what the fuck?' right along with them as Cabinda's camouflage- and mask-wearing rebel army was laying the smack-down on the Angolans. That was okay; over a million 'free Cabindan Unionists' were in the same boat. Over a thousand Asians with their mostly-female militant translators were right there to prop up their 'Unionist Allies', but then they were the ones with the tanks, armored vehicles, planes and guns, so they were less worried than most.To pilot these tanks, APC, IFV and man this artillery, they had to go back to the Khanate. Sure enough, they had some old tankers used to crewing the T-72 from which the M-84's and -95 Degman were derived. They'd also need drivers for those BVP M-80A's and Polish BWP-1's and OT-64 SKOT's... who were, again, derived from old Soviet tech (just much better). The Serbian artillery was similar enough to Soviet stuff, but with enough new tech to make it 'more fun' for the reservists to 'figure out' how to use.More volunteers for the Liberation Armed Forces! More Apple sales, great apps and voice modulation software so that the vehicle commanders would be heard communicating in Portuguese if someone was eavesdropping. As a final offering the Turkish Navy spontaneously developed some plans to test their long range capabilities by going to, the South Atlantic.On the final leg they would have six frigates and two submarines, enough to give any navy in the region, which wasn't Brazil, something to think about. This was a show of force, not an actual threat though. If anyone called their bluff, the Khanate-Turkish forces would have to pull back. These were not assets my Brother, the Great Khan, could afford to gamble and lose.If someone didn't call that bluff, he was also sending two smaller, older corvettes and three even smaller, but newer, fast attack boats, a "gift" to the Unionists ASAP. The frigates would then race home, they had 'other' issues to deal with while the submarines would hang around for a bit. The naval gift was necessitated by the reality the Unionists would have to press their claim to their off-shore riches and that required a naval force Angola couldn't hope to counter.As things were developing, it was reckoned since a build-up of such momentous land and air power couldn't be disguised, it had to happen in a matter of days ~ four was decided to be the minimum amount of time. More than that and the government of the Democratic Republic might start asking far too many questions our hefty bribes and dubious paperwork couldn't cover. Less than that would leave the task forces launching operations with too little a chance of success.Our biggest advantage was audacity. The buildup would happen 100 km up the Congo River from Soyo, the primary target of the Southern Invasion, in the DRC's second largest port city, Boma. Though across the river was Angolan territory, there was nothing there. The city of roughly 160,000 would provide adequate cover for the initial stage of the invasion.There they grouped their vehicles & Khanate drivers with Amazon and Vietnamese combat teams. The Japanese were doing the same for their 'Chinese' counterparts for their helicopter-borne forces. Getting all their equipment in working order in the short time left was critical as was creating some level of unit dynamic. Things were chaotic. No one was happy. They were all going in anyway.What had gone wrong?While most children her age were texting their schoolmates, or tackling their homework, Aya Ruger ~ the alias of Nasusara Assiyaiá hamai ~ was getting briefings of her global, secret empire worth hundreds of billions and those of her equally nefarious compatriots. She received a very abbreviated version of what the Regents received, delivered by a member of Shawnee Arinniti's staff.When Aya hopped off her chair unexpectedly, everyone tensed. Her bodyguards' hands went to their sidearms and Lorraine (her sister by blood), also in the room on this occasion, stood and prepared to tackle her 'former' sibling to the ground if the situation escalated into an assassination attempt. No such attack was generated, so the security ratcheted down and the attendant returned her focus to her Queen. Aya paced four steps, turned and retraced her way then repeated the action three more times."How many people live in the combined areas?" she asked."The combined areas? Of Cabinda and Zaire?""Yes.""I," the woman referenced her material, "roughly 1.1 million.""What is the yearly value of the offshore oil and natural gas production?""Forty-nine billion, eighty hundred and sixty-seven million by our best estimates at this time,""How many live in Soyo City proper?""Roughly 70,000.""We take Soyo," she spoke in a small yet deliberate voice. "We take and hold Soyo as an independent city-state within the Cabindan-Zaire Union. From the maps it appears Soyo is a series of islands. It has a port and airport. It has an open border to an ocean with weaker neighbors all around.""What of the, Zairians?""Bakongo. As a people they are called the Bakongo," Aya looked up at the briefer. "We relocate those who need to work in Soyo into a new city, built at our expense, beyond the southernmost water barrier. The rest we pay to relocate elsewhere in Zaire, or Cabinda."By the looks of those around her, Aya realized she needed to further explain her decisions."This is more than some concrete home base for our People," she began patiently. "In the same way it gives our enemies a clearly delineated target to attack us, it is a statement to our allies we won't cut and run if things go truly bad.""In the same way it will provide us with diplomatic recognition beyond what tenuous handouts we are getting from Cáel Wakko Ishara's efforts through JIKIT. Also, it is a reminder we are not like the other Secret Societies in one fundamental way, we are not a business concern, or a religion. We are a People and people deserve some sort of homeland. We have gone for so long without.""But Soyo?" the aide protested. "We have no ties to it, and it backs up to, nothing.""Northern Turkey and southern Slovakia mean nothing to us now as well," Aya debated. "No place on Earth is any more precious than another. As for backing up to nothing, no. You are incorrect. It backs into a promise from our allies in the Earth & Sky that if we need support, they know where to park their planes and ships."Aya was surrounded with unhappy, disbelieving looks."The Great Khan is my mamētu meáeda," she reminded them, "and I have every reason to believe he completely grasps the concept's benefits and obligations."The looks confirmed 'but he's a man' to the tiny Queen."Aya, are you sure about this?" Lorraine was the first to break decorum."Absolutely. Do you know what he sent me when he was informed of my, ascension to the Queendom?""No," Lorraine admitted."We must go horse-riding sometime soon, Daughter of Cáel, Queen of the Amazons."More uncertain and unconvinced looks."He didn't congratulate me, or send any gifts. He could have and you would think he would have, but he didn't. He knew the hearts of me & my Atta and we weren't in the celebratory mood. No. The Great Khan sent one sentence which offered solace and quiet, atop a horse on a windswept bit of steppe."Nothing.Sigh. "I know this sounds Cáel-ish," Aya admitted, "but I strongly believe this is what we should do. We are giving the Cabindans and Bakongo in Zaire independence and the promise of a much better life than what they now face. We will be putting thousands of our sisters' lives on the line to accomplish this feat and well over two hundred million dollars.""What about governance of the city ~ Soyo?" the aide forged ahead."Amazon law," Aya didn't hesitate. "We will make allowances for the security forces of visiting dignitaries and specific allied personnel, but otherwise it will be one massive Amazon urban freehold.""I cannot imagine the Golden Mare, or the Regents, will be pleased," the attendant bowed her head."It is a matter of interconnectivity," Aya walked up and touched the woman's cheek with the back of her small hand. "We could liberate then abandon Cabinda with the hope a small band could help them keep their independence. Except we need the refinery at Soyo so the people of Cabinda can truly support that liberty.""So, we must keep Soyo and to keep Soyo, we must keep Zaire province. There is no other lesser border which makes strategic sense ~ a river, highlands, a massive river, an ocean ~ those are sustainable frontiers. You can't simply keep Soyo and not expect the enemy to strike and destroy that refinery, thus we must take Zaire province.""But the Bakongo of Zaire cannot defend themselves and will not be able to do so for at least a year, if not longer. That means we must do so, and for doing so, they will give us Soyo and we will be honest stewards of their oil wealth. We cannot expect any other power to defend this new Union and if we don't have a land stake we will be portrayed as mercenaries and expelled by hostile international forces.""So, for this project to have any chance of success, we must stay, fight and have an acknowledged presence, and if you can think of an alternative, please let me know," she exhaled."What if the Cabindans and Bakongo resist?""It is 'us', or the Angolans and they know how horrible the Angolans can be. Didn't you say the average person their lives on just $2 a day?""Yes.""We can do better than that," Aya insisted."How?" the aide persisted. "I mean, 'how in a way which will be quickly evident and meaningful?'""Oh," Aya's tiny brow furrowed. Her nose twitched as she rummaged through the vast storehouse of her brain."Get me in touch with William A. Miller, Director of the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service. He should be able to help me navigate the pathways toward getting aid and advisors into those two provinces ASAP.""I'll let Katrina know," the attendant made the notation on her pad."No. Contact him directly," Aya intervened. "We established a, rapport when we met. I think he might responded positively to a chance to mentor me in foreign relations.""Really?" Lorraine's brows arched."Yes," Aya chirped."Are you sure, Nasusara?" the attendant stared. She used 'Nasusara' whenever she thought Aya had a 'horrible' idea instead of a merely a 'bad' one."Yes. He owes me. Last time we met I didn't shoot him.""Didn't?" the woman twitched."Yes. I drew down on him with my captured Chinese QSW-06. I didn't want to kill him, but I felt I was about to have to kill Deputy National Security Advisor Blinken and he was the only other person in the room both armed and capable of stopping me.""Why is he still alive?""Cáel Ishara saw through my distraction and then took my gun from me, asked for it actually," she shyly confessed."Would you have shot him?" the aide inquired."What do you think?" Aya smiled.And Then:So, given t

Sharon Gaffney, journalist with France 24 discusses how a French court has barred French far-right leader Marine Le Pen from running in the 2027 presidential election after she was convicted of embezzlement.

This is the Catchup on 3 Things by The Indian Express and I'm Flora Swain.Today is the 31st of March and here are the headlines.Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis Monday said there is “no need to search” for Prime Minister Narendra Modi's successor as he will continue to hold the top post again in 2029. The statement came in response to Shiv Sena (UBT) MP Sanjay Raut claim that the RSS is set to pick Modi's successor. Earlier in the day, Raut said Modi's visit to the RSS headquarters in Nagpur on Sunday was to convey the message to Sangh chief Mohan Bhagwat that he is retiring. “There is no need to search for his successor. He (Modi) is our leader and will continue,” Fadnavis said, speaking to reporters in Nagpur.Kashmir's chief priest Mirwaiz Umar Farooq Monday condemned the decision of the Valley authorities to “not allow” Eid prayers at the sacred spaces of Eidgah and Jama Masjid and said it showcases the “oppressive and authoritarian approach that prevails in Kashmir today”. In a video statement on the occasion of Eid-ul-Fitr, he also claimed that he has been placed under house arrest ahead of the prayers. “Eidgah and Jama Masjid belong to the people. Barring them from these sacred spaces even on Eid reflects an oppressive and authoritarian approach that prevails in Kashmir today,” Mirwaiz said in a post on X.Leader of Opposition in Lok Sabha Rahul Gandhi has written to Prime Minister Narendra Modi condemning the Centre's decision to permit offshore mining along the coasts of Kerala, Gujarat, and Andaman & Nicobar. Urging the government to cancel the tenders issued for the offshore mining blocks, Gandhi asserted that rigorous scientific studies must be undertaken to assess the environmental as well as socio-economic impact of offshore mining. “But most importantly, all stakeholders, especially our fisherfolk must be consulted before any major decision is taken. Their lives are intertwined with the fate of our oceans. Let us work collectively towards building a sustainable future for all,” the Congress leader has written in the letter.US President Donald Trump has said that he is “very angry” and “pissed off” with Russian President Vladimir Putin after attempting to broker a ceasefire agreement between Russia and Ukraine, and said he would impose sanctions on buyers of Russian oil if he feels that the Kremlin is blocking the deal negotiation.Citing a telephone interview with NBC News, it's reported that Trump was angry with Putin after he raised doubts over the credibility of Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelenskyy's leadership last week. The US president even threatened to impose a 50% tariff on countries buying Russian oil if Putin doesn't agree to a ceasefire deal. Trump's frustration grew due to a lack of movement in the Russia-Ukraine ceasefire agreement, as he said that he could impose new trade restrictions on Russia within a month. The war began in February 2022 when Russia invaded Ukraine.Iran's President Masoud Pezeshkian on Sunday rejected direct negotiations with the United States over the nuclear program, offering Tehran's first response to President Donald Trump's explosive letter wherein he threatened to bomb Iran if it doesn't negotiate over the nuclear deal. President Pezeshkian said that the response of Iran via the sultanate of Oman still has the possibility of indirect negotiations with Washington. During Trump's first term in 2018, he had unilaterally withdrawn America from Tehran's nuclear deal with world powers. “We don't avoid talks; it's the breach of promises that has caused issues for us so far. They must prove that they can build trust,” Pezeshkian said. The US State Department, in its response to President Pezeshkian, stated that America cannot allow Iran to acquire a nuclear weapon.That's all for the today. This was the CatchuUp on 3 Things by The Indian Express.

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Odd Happenings{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab."Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose."Sibeal.""Imogen.""Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said."Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back."How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way."Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'."So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved."I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable."Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact."Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well."I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded."Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?""Come home with me," she suggested."No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland."No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you.""Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me.""We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you.""Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?""Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever."Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered."We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom."We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all."What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared."Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped."Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?""Yes," Deidre replied to Mom."Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind."The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa."So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat."Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?""Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well."No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again.""We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested."How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe.""Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin.""That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try."Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm."No reason," I lied."Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her.""No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff.""You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around."For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is.""That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest."Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch, with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive."Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?""It is a date then," I stumped her."You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions."Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy.""And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy."Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave.""And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile."I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience you will enjoy.""I don't know. I think I'd like that.""No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride."Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment."Yes. Will you be there?""Of course," she grumped."Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice."Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit.""But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice.""Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped."Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me."I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services.""Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?""Really?" she whispered."Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap.""I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled."I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed."Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"Pause."Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again."So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?""Hardy-har-har," I griped."Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan.""Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?""That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement."He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia.""I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled."He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery."In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'.""I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth."Correct.""None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued."This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong,"Ah Hell," I muttered.Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team."He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave.""I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?""The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet.""Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny."That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting.""How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered."Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom).""The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave."All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago."Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on."Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more."You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity."I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?""I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless.""So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired."Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought."Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality.""That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested."The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched.""Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick, their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get."Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity.""I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset."Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum)."The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution.""Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clear majority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?Real World Stuff: WarningsArticle 9:(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures, except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).(The Cornerstone) There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking, until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.Japan? Ha.Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d' tat, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World, worse was heading your way.The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse.It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what we can.'F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:The U.S.A: We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)Japan: Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.The U.N.: We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?The PRC: We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?Japan: What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.(Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right?Kawano: Which time?Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.Japan, {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.Awbee: What have you been doing?Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.AS: What!Yachi: Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.(Note from  Prime Minister to Self) Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something a

AP Washington correspondent Sagar Meghani reports the Trump administration is appealing to the Supreme Court in the fight over deporting migrants to El Salvador.

Hana finds a place in Cáel's Amazon Life.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.You never really know what you can't do until you've tried to do it and failedI saw Iskender at least once a week, so I didn't know this was a bad sign. My superiors were wary to meet Iskender because intelligence types like their routines. When assets start acting strange, strange things happen. I knew this to be true. When your normally suspicious girlfriend suddenly acts all lovey-dovey,, she knows ~ she knows.Iskender's face showed that he didn't much like this change to our meeting schedule either. Introductions went around. Odette was the only one to say 'Glad to finally meet you' and mean it."Cáel Nyilas," he finally turned to me, "I bear a request from the Great Khan himself." No beating around the bush with this crowd."What do you need?" I replied. Irrationally, I found myself hoping 'please say you need a second for 'beer-pong''."Here is a flash drive with the particulars, but the basics are that we need the United States and the United Kingdom to lend diplomatic support to our efforts to obtain war material and other equipment from other aligned nations," he said."Things like?" Addison asked."Ships from the United States, tanks from Germany, helicopters from France and computer components for Japan and South Korea," he replied. "This is a list of roughly five thousand items we are attempting to procure.""Sure, we'll help," I volunteered."Cáel, before someone has an aneurism, why don't you find out what your team can do," Pamela burst my bubble."Sir, what exactly does your faction think we at JIKIT can do? We are a covert interim unit with limited authority and oversight," Addison stated."Wouldn't this be something you could accomplish through your own extra-ordinary resources?" Yum-Yum asked."We can only get so much through back channels and shell companies," he replied. "With the quantities the Khanate needs," he trailed off."You can't make that many purchases," I nodded. Even I knew an eighteen year old could buy a six-pack with little effort and a so-so fake ID. Buying five kegs was a totally different matter.There was a silence."Iskender, give the team 48 hours to go over this data. We will either return it as if we never received it, or act upon the information on your behalf," Yum-Yum spoke with finality."I understand," he bowed his head. "I will await your response.""I'll see you out," I told Iskender. "I get the feeling you knew this would be our reply.""I didn't, but the Great Khan did," he gave a weak smile. "Honestly, I don't know what to make of the request.""We do and I think we can get it done," I assured him. I escorted him to the elevator then returned to the room.I didn't have to be told what was wrong with this. If your girl finds out you ate fast food with another chick, you can explain it away. If you got take-out, or breakfast at some nice nook, then you had trouble by association. By giving us their Christmas list, Temujin had told us more than what he needed. He was telling us what he didn't need as well.This gave us incredible insight into Khanate economic and military policy over the next three years. See, you could go to Best Buy and purchase a 72" widescreen TV. It was what Best Buy did. You couldn't show up expecting to buy 500,000 TV's though. To get them you had to tell the manufactures they needed to build them because there was a market for that many systems.In turn, they need to buy the various components they didn't build themselves. That meant you would need to smelt more copper, produce more plastics and mine more cadmium, because they would be needed. Therefore, what the Khanate was ordering was stuff they expected to get three to thirty-six months down the line. This went beyond the war with China.As an example, the Khanate was ordering 265 Leopard 2A7 tanks from Germany to be delivered within two years. Germany didn't have those tanks lying around. They needed to build them. They had to expand the factories to build them and therefore produce all the components you needed for a brand new cutting edge tank at a faster rate than ever before.This also told us the Khanate didn't expect to build enough tanks for their own use, much less export to allies such as Vietnam. Maybe they didn't have the construction capacity, or maybe they were busy building something else. We could figure that out by seeing what else they were purchasing abroad, things like cars, trucks, tractors and locomotives.This was an excellent and powerful gift. It was also,"This is poison," Addison began the next phase of the meeting."I disagree," Mehmet Ali Sharif (our State department analyst) countered. "This will provide JIKIT with exceptional insight into what the Khanate's medium term goals are.""It is both," Yum-Yum nodded."The question is 'who are we going to share this with?'" I sighed. That was the critical juncture. After all, the UK and US had team of analysts whose sole job was to make forecasts like this."We decide that in 47   hours," Yum-Yum stated. "Mehmet, lets farm out 15% of this packet to different agencies and see what they come up with. Keep things compartmentalized.""Will do. Addison, let's burrow through this data to see what we can send to who," he got to work."Cáel, what is your insight into the Great Khan's thinking," Addison turned to me. "Are we being suborned?" I had to think that over."Yeah," I nodded. "He's got six months to figure out who is friends and enemies are and he might as well decide where we stand right now. If we share this data, he gets hurt, but it will mean the end of our taskforce and the end of real hard information about what the Khanate is up to as well.""Serving three masters never turns out well," Yum-Yum smirked. "Still, our regular intelligence agencies are months away from piecing together the inner workings of the Khanate and we have jack-off HUMINT on the ground. Our respective countries have 'back-burner-ed' Central Asia and now that's biting us in the ass. Barring an excessive NBC (Nuclear, Biological, or Chemical weapons) platform, I think we buy in."That meant becoming a true intermediator between our respective governments and the Khanate. That also meant continuing to work with the Amazons and 9 Clans, because if we betrayed the Khanate at this juncture, how much could the others really trust us? No, to keep JIKIT going, we were going to hide this information, thus becoming complicit in what the Khanate planned.We had already wandered past the point of intelligence-gathering and analysis to actual policy-making some time ago. This was the point of no return though. This wasn't plausible deniability. This was actively helping the Khanate achieve their national goals and meant moving beyond the realm of covert activities and into one of co-conspirators. I honestly thought we'd all buy in."So, what's next on the agenda?" I posed the question."Someone is late for their knife-fighting training," Pamela gave me a shark's smile. I smiled too. Finally I had something to do that I didn't understand, but didn't mind being ignorant about. If I fucked up, it would all be on me.{9:45 pm, Thursday, August 28th ~ 11 Days to go}Brooke Lee was many things, but being a cook wasn't one of them. What inspired her to cook dinner was almost beyond me. It had to do with that checklist women go through when seeing what a guy doesn't see in them. Brooke was gorgeous, fun to be around (if a bit snobby) and good in the sack. So, what made me closer to Libra and Hana than her? She wasn't trying to compete with the Amazons, thank God.She was better looking than Libra (true) and just as much fun, and if Libra was a better lay she would have hung herself, so it had to come down to womanly stuff ~ things like housecleaning, buying stuff and cooking. House-cleaning was a continuous menial effort and she had a maid service for that. Buying stuff? She had that down pat.Cooking? How hard could that be? very, but she hadn't accepted that, so here I was eating charred prime rib, rubbery asparagus tips, lumpy mash potatoes (made from real potatoes, I'd seen the peals in the trashcan) and some sort of Tomato salad. When she informed me she was cooking, I began looking for a reason not to come over for a late night rendezvous. Then she dropped the E-bomb."If you don't come over, it will be just me and Casper (Winslow) again.""Casper's still in town?" I asked. Since that horrible weekend where I first met Hana (good for my life), her father (hates my guts) and her cruel brother Brennan (now dead by my indirect intervention), Casper's life had been one of healing from the worst kind of treatment (by Brennan's now deceased posse) possible. I couldn't treat her like a pariah."I'm coming over to see you, but it will be great to see Casper again as well," I elaborated/exaggerated."Great," she gushed. "I'll see you at nine.""Make in nine thirty," I said. "I need to see a girl about a bed.""You are horrible," she chided me playfully, clearly not believing me."No I'm not. I'm tucking Aya into bed. She has an early start tomorrow and she's going to be gone all weekend, so this will be the last time I'll see her until Monday night. I'll be at your place as soon as possible after that," I told her. Aya was going to Doebridge and I was making a habit of steering clear of that Amazon municipality. Their security and I had a disagreement last time I was there."It is sweet of you to keep up with that little girl you were kidnapped with," she cooed. "You are a cool, great guy.""She's a special kid. We share a bond," I said. That was true and then some."I'll see you at nine-thirty. You won't be disappointed."And so I was at Brooke's at nine-thirty, getting ready to eat a largely indigestible dinner. Casper had stammered a greeting while looking at me happily. The smoke from the kitchen was warning enough of what was to come. I made light of the charred disaster. I didn't point out that two hours at 350 didn't equate to an hour and a half at 450. It just didn't.Brooke made up for her culinary inadequacies by looking good enough to eat off the plate, off the floor, or between the covers. She had on an Aqua tank top, black bra and khaki shorts with open-toed sandals on her feet. Casper was in the same general get up, except her tank top was white as was her bra.I carved up the beast while those two stood around drinking wine. The roast beast (original species uncertain) was as dry as leather, but the knife was sharp. We discussed Brooke's job hunting lack of success. The jobs she was qualified for didn't pay enough, required her to ignore too much leering and were generally an insult to her intelligence. Basic 'intern' stuff really.I mentioned Libra's job with Hana. She created some excuses about making her own way in the world then followed that up by asking if I could use my newfound influence to send some job offers her way. 'Surely not everyone at Havenstone was that way'. No. She had seem them being polite. They could be much, much worse."Why don't you become a consultant?" I suggested."That would be nice," Casper said. Brooke had become her closest friend."What would I consult in?" Brooke inquired."Employment," I mused. "You know networking and you know people who are looking for specific kinds of jobs. Start your own business.""I like that idea," Brooke grinned. "I could create a web page and get business cards, raise the start-up capital and start getting listings and finding clients.""I know some people who could help out," I offered, "as long as Central Asia is an acceptable location.""What kind of work do you think you can find?""Well, they need to build a government," I worked on my idea quickly because Brooke was literally dripping with sex. I was thinking 'tapping that booty all night long' sex.Women love sex, romance and sensuality. They also want to love their lives, feel successful and have just as much independence as they fantasize to be a good thing. I was coming through for Brooke yet again. I'd bolstered her when her former fiance's life imploded, casting her aside. I'd later given her the strength to make a moral stand for Casper and now I was helping her out of her career doldrums. God, she was going to let me fuck her silly. She was going to be freaking animal.But first we had to pretend to eat before we somehow shuffled Casper off to bed. The tomato salad was edible. It turned out to be Casper's contribution to tonight's festivities. I made sure to compliment her on it, while not mentioning the rest of this disaster. Brooke didn't mind. Midway through the meal, she stood up and paced about while calling her parents. Her Mom answered, so she gave that woman the good news first.My name came up, to her father, and not in a bad way, which was rather rare.'Yes, I was engaged to Hana Sulkanen. I was also her friend as well as Libra's.''I had friends in the Khanate, where business opportunities were aplenty.''Security concerns? No. She knew some people (my Amazons) who did that kind of work. Besides, it wasn't like she was going there.'"You might want to consider going there and meeting some of their people on the ground before sending your friends to that part of the world," I whispered.'Oh, I'll probably go to,'"Astana."'Astana, their capital. Father, there are extraordinary opportunities there. I'll be fine.'"I'll hire you some private security," I suggested. I wouldn't use the Ghost Tigers I had guarding Hana. That would be inappropriate. I couldn't use Amazons for that kind of work either.I was thinking about using Captain Delilah Faircloth of Her Majesty's MI-6. They had all kinds of contractors they'd used in China who would be looking for work now that the shooting had temporarily stopped. For all I knew, Lady Yum-Yum could use Brooke's new business as a cover to insert British operatives into the former capital of Kazakhstan.Now that I thought about it, that was a good idea. Brooke would have her hand in an espionage operation and not even suspect it at first. Later on, she'd probably love the peripheral risks and experience was experience.'Cáel can hire some private security using his government contracts.''I know you know people in the government Papa, but Cáel's people actually kill people.' Which went over like a bamboo hut in a tidal wave, but Brooke was irrepressible. Her parents wished her luck, Brooke did a happy dance and Casper snuggled close to me."Hey Casper," I put an arm around her. I was relieved she didn't flinch. I remained a good guy in her estimations of such things. I'd also hack my own hand off if it tried anything overtly sexual. "How are you coming along?""Better, day by day and my therapy group is good, very caring.""Glad to hear it. If there is anything personal that I can do, don't hesitate to ask. It is not a matter of debts to one another. You are worth it.""I'm glad you still think so," she stared up at me. I could easily dismiss her being needy. She was truly a damsel in need of a shoulder, a warm hand and a kind word. I didn't owe her because of Brennan and Anima. I owed her as a fellow human being."Isn't he the best guy in the world?" Brooke beamed. "We need to find ourselves one just like him." I couldn't see how that was going to happen. I was born in the wrong neighborhood, went to the wrong school and hung out with a different brand of friends. The convergence of me with Trent, which then led to Libra and Brooke, had been beyond bizarre.Felix was such an idiot for not buying into Brooke instead of stupidly trying to use her against me. Even that had backfired when I sucker-punched him in front of nearly a hundred Amazons. I'd knocked him out cold because he had shown more balls than brains in that one encounter. I wouldn't get that lucky again. I'd have to figure a way a new way to kick his Alpha-male ass."I'd argue with you, but I'm a hell of a guy. I'm a prince among men," I joked. "I mean that literally, I'm a Prince of Hungary and Transylvania.""Does that come with one of those cool sashes and lots of medals and ribbons?" Brooke teased."I'm sure the Hungarians are working on that right now," I chortled."Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege" Casper murmured. "I read it in USA Today. They said it was something the Romanians gave you, but I wasn't sure what it was.""In Romanian it is "Prinţul Ungariei şi Transilvaniei", I clarified. "Prinţul is,""Is what?" Brooke said after a moment's lapse."When I went into battle with the Romanians, that is what they called me. It was a jest of sorts, not real," I sighed, recalling that dark day. Casper patted my hand."Is Magyarorszag the name for 'prince'?" Brooke requested." Magyarorszag is the name the Hungarians call their homeland," I clarified. "Hercege is their word for prince, but let's not buy into the hype. I'm just a guy with a job that entails greater risk than a pizza delivery driver.""A Jewish pizza delivery driver in downtown Gaza, Cáel. Every time I see you, you are sporting a new scar, or scratch. What do you have for me this time?" she gave me a sultry 'come-hither' look. I caught it and liked what I saw. Casper caught it and sighed slightly."I'm sleepy," she yawned. "I should be going to bed.""Oh no," Brooke protested. I almost believed her. "Are you sure?""Yes. I'll take an Ambien then be out like a light," Casper said before giving my hand another squeeze."You don't have to do this," I whispered into Casper's ear. "I'll brave another one of Brooke's home-cooked meals to spend time with her." Casper giggled."Hey now! What was that about?" Brooke pouted. She was definitely going to be wrapping those scrumptious lips around my sceptre in the next three hours, of that I was certain."He, ah, was wondering if we could do this again real soon," Casper babbled, caught between fright and comedy."Soon," Brooke shot me more of the 'sexy'. "He hasn't even made it out of the door yet.""I like the way you think," I winked to Brooke."What do you think is on my mind," she was provoking me. I didn't say a word. I chose to undress her with my eyes instead. She knew what I was doing too."Bedtime," Casper put both hands on the table then stood. "Thanks for coming over tonight." I stood as well, hugged her then briefly watched her walk away. Just because she was 'handle with care' didn't mean she wasn't a handful. My miniscule number of rules included not doing it with girls not in their right minds. I wanted them to be free to hate me when the time came.Brooke saw Casper off to the bathroom for her meds and the whole pre-bedtime ritual stuff while I cleaned up the dinner table. Five minutes of work now meant not waking up to the smell of ruined food later. The only thing in need of saving was the salad. I Saran Wrapped the rest of it. I was going to claim I was taking it into work for breakfast then dispose of it at our HQ ~ One MiMA Tower.Once I was finished, I puttered around noisily until Brooke came looking. I could have gone to her bed and stripped naked, eagerly waiting for sex. Since Brooke was trying to play in the same league as Hana, she might have misconstrued that as me taking advantage of her. If not tonight then in the morning when she replayed the encounter. Brooke liked to be 'in charge', so I fed that instinct.I had come here for sex. We both knew that, but we could pretend we didn't. Brooke could then want to have me and got to make sure I wanted her with or without sex, so we could have guilt-free sex together. Brooke was not overly complicated, for a girl, and she was hot enough to be worth having to go through these sorts of games."Whatchya thinking about?" Brooke said as she sashayed into the kitchenette."You," I met her gaze. She licked her upper lip."I've been thinking about you too," she moved within my comfort zone. I obliged her aggression by placing my hands first on her hips then, as I pulled her close, to the small of her back. We were groin to 'growing' and I was very aroused by her presence and her scent."Are you going to toy with me some more so that I go home tonight stiff and moaning with lust?" I groaned."I like toying with you," she snickered. "You are fun.""You are fun and sexy. We need to try another beach weekend with less drama before the season ends," I played to her amusement."I don't think I can wait for the weekend," she protested by shimmying her hips against me. "While you were out saving the world, I've been all alone.""Oh hell no!" I hissed. "What brought that on?""You are a hard act to follow," she teased. "I've missed you.""I've missed you too," wasn't a total lie. I hadn't been celibate by a long shot. That didn't mean I didn't miss her."How about we do a little bit less 'missing'?" she suggested."I'd like to have you on the sofa," I pressed into her."I'd like to have you in the bedroom ~ my bed is bigger," she grinned. My eyes shown with anticipation, which was what she was looking for. Brooke took my hand and led me through the living room and around the corner to her bedroom.She cat-crawled onto the bed while I hurriedly stripped down. She languidly lay back on the pillows, hair billowed around her in a dark halo while she hungrily watched my physique being revealed to her. Brooke's left hand traced a line down around her breast to her pubic mound where she started playing with herself. Her eyes fluttered, her lust blossomed into womanhood and I was beside her in a flash.Instead of falling in beside her (she was close to her side of the bed), or to her far side, I came at her from the foot of her bed. I spent only a few seconds kissing her toes, shins and kneecaps. While my kisses made moist lip-prints up her thighs, I unbuttoned her short shorts and undid the zipper. Brooke raised her hips so I could pull her clothing down ~ no panties.To change things up slightly, I finished the removal by turning her over onto her stomach, then pulling on her hips until she was in the doggy-style position. She looked back at me, her eyes framed by dark lashes and darker eyebrows on her tanned flesh. I pressed her shoulder blades down until her breasts were squeezed against the bed.After that, I slid down until I was on my belly. Using my shoulders and neck, I began licking her labia from the hood to the anus. That got her going and before long, I was drinking from her nectar and loosening up her asshole with some quality rimming. Brooke had prepped for me carefully and cleanly and this made me attack her nether regions with renewed gusto. Butt sex was in the offing.Not yet though. I got her all nice and gushing, but I wanted to try something more. I kept my tongue action going on while I coiled my body behind her. With a quick, graceful repositioning, I rose up on my knees, her thighs resting on my shoulders while I made furious suction actions onto her."Yep, Yeah!" Brooke exhaled. "This is, aha, new."True to my predations, while I worried and nibbled her accoutrements, Brooke took one hand (the other she was using to pull her hair aside) and began stroking me. Her tongue touched my spongy head several times before she stopped the outright teasing and placed her lips upon me. She didn't suck it in. On no. She sucked on my angry red helmet, running her lips right to the edge then back again, as if I was a Popsicle.I was leaning back on my haunches because of the awkward hold on hips with the weight I had to support. Not that Brooke was at all heavy."Crawl forward," I mumbled from between her legs. It took her a few seconds to figure out I wanted to return us to our starting position. She made a great display of slithering forward. My tongue stayed in her cunt until both her knees hit the comforter.At that stage she was ready to go and my forcefulness lifted her knees temporarily off the sheets.With my third lunge, Brooke reached back and stopped my rocking motion. I stilled which allowed her to reach over to the side table, open the drawer and pull out a designer bottle of lubricant."I know this is what you like," she panted in anticipation. I knew this was what we both wanted by the way she ran her fingers along my palm before making the hand-off.This was one of those bottles with the glass stopper, so it make a slight grinding sound as I opened it. Brooke want down onto all fours, her palms resting on the comforter. Her head was down and her waist-long black hair masked her features, but not her sounds of pleasure."Arch your back Brooke," I said as I inhaled her intoxicating aroma. She did so willingly. I let the oil pour down in a thin stream and rubbed it in with my thumb.I had to carefully aim my phallus because Brooke hadn't been lying about her lack of sexual attention. She was tight and hadn't been plundered by anyone in my long (for me) absence. Hell, this long and I was normally back to 'make-up' sex. I certainly wasn't going to be ramming my rod home with any great passion for a few minutes.I didn't want to cause her (too much) pain nor have her anal muscles constrict the skin off my love missile."Oh," she moaned. "I love it when you are gentle, Cáel. It reminds me how much you care for how I feel." She punctuated that statement by rolling her hips, driving in my entire length in her lubricated alternate option. Her body tensed up then bucked. I popped out."Put it back in," she gasped. There was so much to love about Brooke and her enthusiasm. Once back in, I rested my left hand on the small of her back to keep her back arched while I reached around with my right and began twisting and palming her right breast through her shirt and bra. As I was slowly twisting and thrusting, Brooke's arms gave out and she went face first into her pillow. Her breast pressed my hand down on the comforter and her repositioning drove a full inch of me suddenly into her.Brooke gave out a strangled sob followed by a whimpering sound. My left hand took my weight. My right came around and pulled her hair away from her face so she could breathe easier and I could judge her pain through her facial expressions."Oh God," she spat a strand of hair out of her mouth, "It feels like you are going to split me in half.""Too late to back out now," I teased her."I can, hiss, take anything you can give me, Cáel Nyilas," she taunted me through clenched teeth. I gave her another inch for her impertinence. She tried to crawl forward before she surprised me by thrusting up and back."God damn!" she howled. "You're huge!"I imagined that I would feel like a fucking Sequoyah shoved up my ass if I pulled off a stunt like that too. Brooke was game for more. I had enough in that now I could start a rhythm  without fear of popping out. Her hands bunched up the comforter around her head as she hung on for dear life. This felt so good that squeezing my last bit in felt rather inconsequential after all the physical and erotic ground we had covered up until then.Brooke's stomach clenched up as her spontaneous ecstasy jumped her and me. Every muscle in her body spasmed, including her rectal ones. I was shooting off into her bowels inside a second. My heat only made her climax come that much harder. I kept humping away like a chimp on crack while Brooke began to squeal out between baited breathe."Damn, that was intense," I remarked as I fell to her side. Brooke was still face down/ass up with her eyes squeezed shut, still riding through her own aftershocks of her sensual seismic waves."Oh, oh, oh," she panted hoarsely. "I want to, (pant), do that again, real soon."I spanked her ass loudly and prepared on shaky legs to remount her."No," she moaned. "Give my ass a minute's rest. Can't we do something else for a while?""How about I get cleaned up and get you a hot wash cloth?" I suggested as my nostrils flared."I'll just lie here and feel sated," she murmured. Her knees slid down until her stomach was down on the bed. I gave her abused backside another tender spank then slid off the bed. I quick-stepped it out of Brooke's room, and nearly tripped over Casper who had been out in the hall watching us."I," she stammered. I shut the door then crossed the hallway from her."No problems, Casper. I was hoping that we wouldn't wake you up," I coaxed her down the hallway to her door, and away from Brooke's room. I noticed her eyes constantly flicking down to my crotch. "Hang on," I held up my hand. When she nodded, I quietly sprinted down to the living room, grabbed up a throw pillow then sprinted back. Now I could be covered up."Why didn't you get a towel out of the bathroom?" Casper whispered."I'm an idiot," I shrugged. She sniffled then giggled."You make Brooke very happy, but,""But?""But you are engaged to Hana Sulkanen.""I'm a Love Monkey," I shrugged. "I find it difficult to be with just one woman. It is never that a woman isn't enough for me. It is that there is something wrong with me that is never truly satisfied so I keep roaming.""Don't you, worry about the women you are with?""I'm not a wonderful human being, Casper. That is all I can think to say.""You aren't like Brennan, not like that, hold on." Casper retreated to her room then came back with a folded up piece of news print. By the size it was one of those articles you found on page 17. "Here," she handed it over. "It was delivered here in an envelope with my name on it."I looked it over. A 'Jane Doe' had been found in Charleston harbor, SC, dead from an overdose."Three days before I got that, I got a call from Anima," she told me. "She told me," Casper gulped. "She told me that she was very sorry about all that had happened. She was sorry. That was it.""Oh.""Anima is dead now, isn't she?""Yeah, I think so," I noted sadly. "Does that change anything with you?""I don't know. I mean, Brooke told me that you would make sure none of those people would ever be around to bother me again, but, was this you?""No and yes. I told someone with the power to make a difference what happened to you and who was responsible. After that, I never heard about the matter again. Anima did stop by once, crazy with fear but unrepentant. I honestly feel that how she ended up feeling wouldn't have made a difference on whether she lived, or died. I don't know what to make of her call.""She, it doesn't help. I still have to take a sleeping pill to keep the nightmares away. I haven't told my therapist about the death, or how everyone else is either dead or disappeared. I don't know what to think. I was hoping you would.""I'm not normally the person people go for answers. I'll make up an answer, if that's what you want."She reached up and touched my forearm."I prefer honesty," she smiled. "I guess I was hoping for you to be more, perfect than you are. That was unfair of me.""You wouldn't be the first person to mistake me for a decent human being," I joked. "Usually that misconception only lasts a week or so. I promise you... I'll be living down to your expectations in no time.""Brooke thinks highly of you, and so do I. We've known you more than a couple of weeks," Casper feebly jibed."I've been behaving myself," I teased her.'"Brooke sounded," she trailed off. I waited. "You two sound like you enjoyed one another.""That's how it is supposed to be. You'll feel that one day too. You'll meet someone who thinks of your pleasure first. And, if he doesn't, you will have to train him to do it right.""You make it sound so easy," Casper sighed."Do you really think I'm that unique?""A prince, avenger, soldier-of-fortune, titan of the bedroom?" she lightened up. We'd crossed a barrier. I was 'joke-able'."We have union meetings every third Wednesday," I grinned. "We kick back, drink a few beers and figure out what hot spots and hotties we need to concentrate on for the next month.""I, thank you, Cáel," she smiled."For what?""For not disappointing me. You are a nicer guy than you give yourself credit for.""Thank you, Casper," I reached over and hugged her. She didn't flinch. "For treating me like I can make a difference.""I need to go to bed now," she yawned. I hugged her again then stepped back. She walked to her door and began to shut it. I swore I heard her whisper 'you do', but I wasn't sure. I had to hurry to the bathroom, heat up a wash cloth while cleaning up, before finally getting back to Brooke. I found her reclining on the bed, totally naked."Sorry I took so long," I told her."I know. It is okay. I heard most of it," she glowed happily. "Casper needs someone, someone who isn't me. I'm not the most patient friend in the world. I sort of feel responsible for her and she needs someone to talk to about normal stuff, but I miss going to clubs and hanging out with friends who talk back." I sat on the bed and began to run the warm cloth up her thighs."What was it like, that fight in Romania?" she asked as we switched off with the washcloth. She tenderly worked over her abused anal region."The battle? A skirmish really,""Yes," she paused. "Between that and being kidnapped, you've had a mentally draining time since we last spent some time together. You act like you haven't changed much, but,""It's okay. I know it sounds clich , but it is hard to explain those things unless you've lived thru them.""If you don't want to talk about it," Brooke gave me an out. I could tell this was a part of my life she wanted to be a part of; my manliness on display."I'm okay. I can't really say I was scared for myself either time. During the kidnapping I was concerned for Aya. All of the normal human stuff came later, after the crisis was over. During the kidnapping, there isn't much to talk about. As for the fight, at the time I had a plan and was waiting for the opportunity to implement it. Bullets were flying. Men around me were getting wounded. I can't recall seeing any of the men on my side getting killed.""Did you get shot?" she stroked my abdomen."Bruised, though my flak jacket had to do its job once or twice," I sighed. I could almost hear the sounds of the bullets whizzing around me once more. Wounded men hadn't screamed out when they were hit. They'd grunted. The cries would come later when the enormity of their pain sunk in."I made sure the main bad guy ~ the Boss ~ didn't get away. I think I wounded one guy. That was it; my contribution to the battle.""It was your plan that won the fight though, right?""Yes. I did what leaders are supposed to do, but that didn't mean I could save all my guys and gals.""You are very courageous," Brooke cuddled in. "You don't back down often, but you are not an ass about it. You are the least 'macho-asshole' macho-man I've ever met, and I'd like to see more of you," she purred."I'm already naked," I played naive. Brooke pushed me down and straddled my lap."I guess I'll just have to appreciate the naked you some more then," she chortled. Brooke took charge long enough for me enter her then we combined our efforts, her moving with her thighs and me with my hands on her hips, to engage in some serious love-making.This is not a political commentary, public personalities have been butchered in order to make the story light-hearted{4:45 am Friday, August 29th ~ 10 Days to go}"Hey," Brooke asked softly, "can I join?"I was halfway thru my clean up when she'd opened the shower stall door, but I had some time. "Sure. I'll wash your back if you wash mine," I offered.She gave me a sly grin as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. I signaled her to turn with her back to me (never a safe position), poured some liquid soap in my hands and began lathering her up."Did you think you could leave me with only a kiss," she said as she backed up against me."I thought you were asleep when I kissed you," I whispered into her ear."I was. You are such a romantic, I assumed you kissed me because that's what you always do. You have a light touch.""We were up late," I teased."You are up early," she let her left hand travel down between us until she could wrap her fingers around my cock."Being with you, it is hardly a surprise," I chuckled."Are you implying you like me?" she serpentined her body against mine."Me likey, me likey a whole bunch," I told her as I nibbled her ear. Brooke responded by pulling my phallus around like a clock arm until it was fixed between her thighs and rubbing up against her. We left it there a while, she rocking her hips back and forward while I soaped up her front the way I had lathered her back. After all, this was foreplay.This was kisses planted along her shoulders, neck, ears and, as I turned her head around, on her lips. Brooke was whining with need after our last French kiss, so I pushed my hips back and pressed her down with a hand on her mid-back. At the perfect angle, I let her slip me in."Ah, this is never going to get old," Brooke moaned. She punctuated her statement by rolling her hips back and forth. In the interlude, I cut off the water so it would cease to be a distraction. Then my hands went to her hips and the rhythm began. It was a slow steady wave-like motion.Brooke had one hand against the tiled wall while the other reached under to play, as I went in. This was an excellent symmetry we had developed.I pulled out suddenly."No," Brooke protested. She turned around to see me pull a condom from behind the shampoo and quickly apply it. Brooke giggled. "Thank you for that, but don't you think it is a little late in our night together?""Would you rather I went without?" I smiled."No," she sighed happily. "It is so you." I took that as a sign to slip back in. I felt her fingernails run over the condom as I pressed forward. This time around, I let Brooke do all the work. I placed my torso onto her back so I could worry her shoulders and neck (yes, I gave her a hickey) and fondled her breasts."No fair," she whimpered. "No fair, I wanted you to, cum first.""I'm working as fast as I can," I huffed. Her fingers were strumming furiously, I was picking up my pace, pounding her with growing ferocity, and her breath was coming in labored gasps."No!" she howled as her climax gripped her. She bucked up once, twice, then a third time, holding herself tightly against me."I'm cumming," I growled and I did. Brooke's groans became longer and lower. She wiggled her cute ass against me, urging out every spurt of my semen into the condom. As I was pulling out of Brooke, she stopped me."Wait, I want to try something," she told me. She turned around and went to her knees.Brooke rolled off the condom and made deep, meaningful eye contact before tilting her head back and draining the contents of my condom down her throat. Oh, that was so sexy."Yummy," she gulped down my seed."Wow, that was so, unforgettable," I stroked her cheek."I've been reading some porn and wanted to try, oh, it has an aftertaste of spermicide. At least I think that is what it is," she snickered."I wouldn't know," I shrugged."Let me find out," she gave me more of that sultry eye-contact. She put her hand around my turgid phallus, stuck out her tongue then slipped it past her lips."No," it was my turn to moan. She was getting me hard again and I had a date I couldn't be late for. Maybe. The moment her gag reflex kicked in, I pulled her up into a kiss. My hands cupped each ass cheek, I raised her over and impaled her in one rapid motion. Face to face, I began bouncing her hard and deep.{8:00 am}I wasn't late, but it was a close thing. I had arrived with three minutes to spare, only to find Hana and Libra waiting for me at Amy's Bread on 9th Avenue. Over some coffee and scones we soaked up the city's morning ambience. I was in my biker clothes with my bike locked up within sight of the counter."So," Libra started off after the initial hugs and kisses (Hana on the lips, Libra on the cheek, no titty snuggle for me at the moment), "how was dinner with Brooke last night?"I didn't believe Brooke had given anyone any details in the period between since we'd had our last round of high octane love-making at one a.m. and before I grabbed my shower, or the two quickies in the shower, or feeling her up at the door. I had kissed her before leaving and she had been out like a light, naked and curled up with my pillow while resting her weary head on the other one. I had whispered a farewell to Casper, but not looked in. After that, I had biked over to Havenstone for my six o'clock firearm's practice.There, I had picked up my current minder, Juanita Leya Antonio Garza. She was a mocha-skinned Dominican, twenty-nine years old and a brand-spanking new member of the Isharan House Guard. She came to me by way of Havenstone's Buenos Aires' Acquisitions department. Juanita had earned her spot as my guardian by qualifying for that office's Rapid Response Team. (She had been good enough to qualify for that team's lead. Since there were not enough Security Detail (SD's) to staff all the satellite offices, the offices made do with teams trained by the SD as part of their normal career training.)She had spent the past week as part of an ad-hoc training program addressing how to bodyguard from on top a bicycle. (The SD had actually been planning this since I had been kidnapped.) Juanita had been identified by Buffy and Halen as a Runner to be brought into House Ishara and she had a seal of approval from both Buffy and Rachel as a bodyguard, so I was more than willing to put up with an aggressive road buddy."Entertaining," I grinned. "Definitely something we are going to have to work on together next time.""Next time?" Hana regarded me studiously. "Was last night that good?""We are not going to go there, Hana. I'm doing my best within my limited Code of Sexual Misconduct. I'm trying to be discreet.""Hana," Libra added her voice, "when you first met Cáel, he was simultaneously dating me and Brooke. At the same time he was also seeing that police officer,""Nikita," I clarified, "and we are keeping it at the 'strictly friends' level right now.""I was hoping to have something more than just a part-time husband," Hana stated softly. Hana wasn't whining. She was testing our boundaries, for the long term control of my being. After all, wasn't that what marriage was all about?"At this point in my life, I'm not that guy," I pushed back. Most of the women I'd been with hadn't been happy about sharing my attentions, often violently so. Those who did found ways to emotionally blackmail me into spending more time with them. Up until now, that had never worked."When I saw you with  Annela, I realized that you are much more than some sort of playboy," Hana countered."I'm learning to like kids," I shrugged happily. "I never thought I would, quite frankly. I wasn't called 'Captain Condom' for nothing.""I'm not on birth control," Hana enlightened me. Oh shit!"Good thing we are getting married," I joked feebly. "So, does  Annela want a baby brother, or sister?""Would there be a problem with a boy?" Libra asked."Not anymore," I guaranteed them both. "I couldn't,""Couldn't?" Hana requested what I had let slip."What used to happen to Amazon boys?" Libra pressed."Not something that I feel at liberty to discuss," I hedged."That doesn't sound good," Libra mused."Would our child be at risk if something happened to you?" Hana worried."No," I reached over and squeezed her hand. "There are plenty of people that know how I feel and wouldn't let anything happen to my children," I didn't quite lie. Honestly I had never talked over such things, even with Buffy. Would my sons be okay? Would my daughters?I needed to reexamine my future plans, which is to say I needed a plan."So how would we deal with your grandfather?" Hana redirected my thoughts."Oh," I had been worried about my Amazons, not my family."I will find a way to deal with Alal," I promised her. What a bold-faced lie. I hadn't a clue how to counter the man yet. I was still playing catch up with several thousand years of what he had already accomplished, much less plumbed the depths of his future conspiracies."You big liar," Hana smiled warmly. "That man has your number, even though you don't see it yet. We will have to work on something together.""I'll help," Libra offered. "That guy weirded me out.""He did?" I looked her way. I'd been good at avoiding ogling her cleavage for Hana's sake. "I wish I could clarify how I feel about him.""That man is evil," Hana insisted. "Don't you see that?""It isn't that simple for me," I shook my head. "It is, I can get inside his head and figure out what motivates him, and sometimes it is scary. In a way, he's lost faith in humanity. His friends have all long since died and he has carried on alone. I get the bizarre sense he is even looking forward to having something he's never had before, a family.""What about your, umm, aunts?" Libra challenged me."They don't count because he," I couldn't say 'made them in a lab'. "He never knew them as children, only after the fact and they have always lived in his shadow and under his control. This time, with me, us, things can be different.""He doesn't deserve a family in my book," Hana shook her head. "Not my family."I had to think about Katrina and Aya. How different was Katrina, who purposely sacrificed Aya to achieve her long term goals of screwing over the Seven Pillars of Heaven? Aya would bear a permanent scar of that betrayal, and Katrina had an ironclad faith I would save us both, a faith I didn't have in myself. I liked Katrina and even trusted her somewhat. Could I afford to feel the same way about Grandpa Cáel?"Hana, I'm not looking to give you a sane reason for dumping me, but my family is more than a little fucked up," I began. "I have to face the fact that right now, I really can't stop Alal from doing what he wants. That doesn't mean I accept the situation, yet it is what it is. When I have a chance at putting him away, I'll take it and that decision goes beyond my family. He needs to be stopped. As you said 'he's evil'.""Will you let us help you?" Libra inquired. 'Yeah right, what can you do versus a 5000 year old criminal mastermind' wasn't the appropriate thing to say. The truth rarely is."What would you suggest?" I did say. "Considering the resource gulf between what we can bring to bear versus his legions of followers and unspeakable power, what chances do the three of us have?""Is that a concession, insult, or genuine inquiry?" Hana questioned."Genuine inquiry," I answered. "I hardly feel I know it all. And the more insight I can gather, the better my long-term chances are.""We can start by finding a way to get rid of my Irish 'minders'," Hana gave me a quirky grin. "They are very good at fitting seamlessly into the background, but I can spot them.""Keep them around for a while, because all we can accomplish right now is getting a few more we can't identify," I pointed out. "The Ghost Tigers?""Oh, they are out and about," Libra snorted."They stop by long enough in the morning to get my itinerary, then, I guess they are out there somewhere," Hana told me. "A few times they have acted on my behalf, so I know they are close by, and that people really are trying to kill me. But they work their way, and that includes not being seen with me, it seems.""They are assassins, so I guess I should have expected that," I shrugged. "Still, while they are on the job, you are safer than you realize. None of the others ~ groups ~ will bother you while they know those two are close by. It is two, right?""I've seen two. A young woman and an older man," she elaborated."They both come across as diligent sociopaths," Libra added. "I've never seen them emit a single emotion, and they don't like my sense of humor.""I'd rather have you two alive than have them chucking at your innate comedic talents, Libra," I smirked. "Besides, the things they find funny you might not appreciate.""Good point," Hana nodded. "Some of the Great Khan's people certainly have an odd sense of humor, things that don't translate over well."I had an alternative to telling what I knew about the Earth & Sky and why they were so grim: that they saw their father's lifetimes, their own and that of their children filled with warfare and struggle. They were geographically trapped between two of the world's greate

Wrapping up loose ends and moving forward.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Love is like a crossbow quiver. You only have so many bolts to shoot before it runs outThere was a long pause. Pamela took another long breath then an impish grin came to her lips."With your luck you'll get those, then end up in the Artic," she scoffed."Not the Antarctic? I've got a soft spot in my dreams for penguins.""Nope. You get to be chased by polar bears," she nudged me. I nudged her back playfully. She gave me a Charlie horse."Ow!" I yipped. The two SD chicks from the front of the plane looked back our way. I didn't care about their misconceptions. My muscles needed some self-massages."I was pretty scared," I whispered to Pamela."Good for you. You were also pretty lucky and I'm sure pretty pissed with your 'Albanian' attackers," she replied quietly. "I missed you too."I liked the way she read my mind about that. I would have liked it some more if I hadn't glanced to my other side, then fallen straight to sleep.{1 pm, Monday, August 25th ~ 14 Days to go}On Tuesday night, Aya got one of her wishes fulfilled ~ sorta. I slept in Caitlyn Ruger's bed and I wasn't alone. The Sandman had dropped a Scottish sand trap sized load of sand on me and there was more than enough spillover to flatten little Aya too. Because I lived among Amazons, Caitlyn woke me up at 5:45 in the A M and only so much lollygagging was allowed.Aya got to sleep for fifteen whole minutes more than I did. She hugged me and kissed my cheek (which amused her three Fatal Squirt compatriots to no end) while I stuffed away my breakfast. Desiree showed up to take me to work minutes later. While Aya showed off her battle scar to the pre-caste Amazons and her Aunt D. (they had not been awake when we showed up the previous evening), I was chided for being late for weapons practice.Yes. Life and death battle successes meant nothing to the Amazons. If you had a spare moment you had better be training, or working out your mind and/or body. We had no 'weekends', though we did get an quarter day off in celebration for the religious festivals based on the sacred days of the various matron Goddesses. A full day off didn't happen.7:00 AM saw me with the intern group, just as if nothing had happened to change our relationship over the past two months. Oh, we were different. They teased me about my sunburn and wanted to see my latest scars. I couldn't work with Buffy anymore, since I was her spiritual leader. Due to my 'high risk' status, Desiree was the only other Amazon Katrina trusted me with, so I got to get beaten at her hands for the last three days of the week.To be fair, I teased Desiree incessantly. I made her smile when she thought I was doubled over in pain on multiple occasions. Beyond that seven-to-five schedule, I exercised after work until six and then managed to bike home in a manner that avoided the paparazzi.I was easy to track outside of the building by the members of the press (who thought I was still somehow newsworthy) and despite my persistent desire to not talk to any of them. Felix had 'vanished', so I was the only man left. What had happened to him? Katrina allowed me to take a glance. He was at an Epona Wyoming freehold training for the Great Hunt and reveling in his 'lone man in a household of twenty-two single women' status.Unlike the three other members of our 'first class', Felix got to choose his re-location location and communicated with me daily because he wanted us to create a battle plan for the upcoming Hunt. It was official; it was going to be a two man vs. thirty Amazons affair and there was no rule that we couldn't work together though only two Amazons could win by capturing us and holding onto us until sunset on Sunday, September 14th.No one except Krasimira, the Keeper of Records, knew what terrain we would be hunted on so we could expect anything from swamps to mountain ranges. The Amazons were in the same boat. Already the House heads had volunteered one member for the Hunt. The ancestors would be consulted for the half who would actually participate. Krasimira had also added her own twists.House Ishara couldn't compete because technically, I was already their participant. With 52 houses halved, that equaled 26. The final four? Runners. If a runner won, the Keeper would consult the ancestors to see which house they would automatically be inducted into. Eight runners were nominated by the department heads and four of those would be chosen by the Augurs as well.In a normal organization it would have been thought that Krasimira was abusing her station since there was no High Priestess to oppose her decisions. Not in the Amazons. No. She consulted the Augurs and the Augurs worked the will of the Ancestors and that was that. No Augur would lie about the sacred communications imparted to them. That was inconceivable sacrilege.What that did mean was that at sunset on Thursday, September 11th, Felix and I would be inserted with a knife, map and clothing into the hunting zone. When the sun rose on Friday morning, the thirty Amazons would be put into the zone. No Amazon could attack another unless they, or their targets, 'possessed' a man. They could team up but only two could win. It was promising to be a great 'get to know your buddies at work' moment for all of us,What was Felix getting out of this besides his freedom? (His freedom was no longer in danger. House Epona would protect him.) No, for Felix, if he survived free until the sun set on Sunday, he would become a Runner. If he lost, he would have to spend another year as an intern. This convinced me that Felix was totally dedicated to avoiding capture. I was good with that.Meanwhile for me, it was Brooke Wednesday night, Oneida on Thursday and Timothy and Odette going clubbing with me on Friday night. Saturday was my first House Ishara group activity. We gathered in the early morning at Doebridge, me with a hangover and Buffy giving me crap at every opportunity. Fortunately the rest of my 'sisters' treated me with a great deal more reverence.Now they all knew about my Summer Camp role, Romania and my kidnapping. Even in their 'man-hating' ideology, I was the exception to the rule ~ I was reliable, dedicated, smart, lethal and worthy of their trust and respect. On the council front, Buffy hinted to me that there was a way around the deadlock for who would be foisted onto the Regency Triumvirate, but she refused to tell me what it was. That was a cause for concern.Sunday, I worked with JIKIT, did some Amazon diplomatic stuff and discovered Desiree was my new bodyguard. Katrina thought a full SD team would be cumbersome and my best bet was to remain unconventional and mobile. I agreed because it allowed me to play the field a little more. Speaking of playing the field,This bright Monday afternoon, I was standing in a hangar at Stewart International Airport waiting on my fiancée, Hana Sulkanen. She had flown from Tibet to London with the Dali Lama. That exalted individual had passed on the mantle of national leadership to the Tibetan Constitutional Committee and left the country with the stern decision that the country would move forward toward democracy and not backwards toward theocracy.Now he was playing the role of goodwill ambassador, encouraging the Tibetan Diaspora to spend a few months to a year back in their homeland to help rebuild and teach. He also was rallying support for Tibetan recognition and financial support. Already the UN had voted to send a small international group to establish border security against both the Khanate and the PRC.With the PRC treaty-obliged by the ceasefire to not oppose Tibetan freedom, the UN acted rapidly. The UN Tibet Force(UNTFOR) combat elements consisted of the UK (+ Gurkha), Chilean, French (+ French Foreign Legion), Germany, India, Italy, Romania, Spanish and Thailand each sending one battalion each. Algeria, Denmark, Chile, the Netherlands, Bulgaria, Canada, Cameroon, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Brazil agreed to make smaller contributions. The USAF would supply a serious level of logistics support for the mission.The UN also created the UN Tibetan Training Force (UNTTFOR) which provided a structure for giving access by Tibetan forces to German, Italian, Chilean and Romanian bases to train to E U standards over a five month period. The Khanate provided gobs of captured Chinese hardware to the creation of a tiny Tibetan Armed Forces, easing worries about adequately equipping the troops once they were trained.The Dali Lama was simultaneously arriving at JFK to public fanfare in order to thank the UN personally on behalf of the nation he loved. Hana was able to finally shed the limelight and was coming into a secure National Guard facility to finally take a step back to a 'normal' lifestyle. The last bit of oddity: the hangars used by the Marine Aerial Refueler Transport Squadron 452 of the Marine Corps Reserve was courtesy of JIKIT. No press was allowed, or expected.It was an odd grouping of us. Jormo Sulkanen (Hana's father), his chauffeur and Hana's daughter  Annela were in one car. Hana was traveling with Libra and Ms. Meacham, so they would need the limo he came in. My appearance was a simple moment for us to touch base in person, as opposed to over the internet, or mobile phone. The third group waiting was Sten Phillip M nnik (her ex-husband) and two unnamed associates.Sten was being a total jerk, which may have been due to me calling him Philip when we first met. Philip wasn't 'ethnic' enough for him, so he never used it. Because he hated it, Brennan (Hana's deceased step-brother) had used it constantly. I had overheard it and thus screwed up our first meeting. But Sten's current blistering hatred had two positive side effects: Jormo came over and stood by me, a suggestion of solidarity I hadn't expected, and since we were standing next to each other, we finally began the dialog that we needed if Hana was going to be family to both of us.We chatted about the thing that mattered most ~ Hana. He asked me if I had really hired a team of assassins to protect her, so I told him a little bit about the Ghost Tigers. He talked about how proud she was to be bringing peace to a suffering planet and I agreed that she looked spectacular doing so.Some things remained the same; I had set in motion the death of his youngest son who had paraded a raped lady in front of me. A bunch of other dilettantes had perished as well. Balancing that was the joy I brought to the child closest to his heart, his adopted daughter Hana. I also had proved to be my own brand of eccentric knight in tarnished armor. I meant well, and in Jormo's book that meant something.He also told me he would strangle me with my own intestines if I broke her heart. I looked him straight in the face and asked him how he felt about open marriages. He hit me. To be fair, I let him hit me. He didn't try to do me serious harm."Don't be an asshole," he grumbled."I'm not sure I know how?" I shrugged. I got another hard stare."She loves you," he said with surprising tenderness."I would rather face that typhoon again than break her heart. The thought of that scares me because I've never been all that good at romance," I confessed."That wasn't what I expected you to say," he harrumphed. "I recall those two ladies I first saw you with. Libra Chalmers and,""Brooke Lee," I said."Yes, her. Are you staying loyal?""She has never asked more than she thinks my current level of maturity can hope to achieve." He looked at me. "I'm discrete and mindful of her sensitivities.""You aren't trying to befriend me," he noted."I don't feel it is right to expect you to like me. I think we both know I'm supposed to be nice to you and you aren't going punch me again. I believe Hana would see thru any deception on our part."I paused. "I wouldn't mind us getting along. I'll try not to piss you off because that would be rude to you and cruel to her," I continued. "I'll never ask you to forgive me and I'll never feel like what I did was inherently unjustified. I am sorry that I caused you pain because I think you are a hard, courageous man, and she loves you.""That's her plane," he stated."Thank God," I muttered. And thank you Ishara. I was starting to blather. We remained thankfully silent until the plane had pulled into the hangar and the people started to deplane. The first out was a young woman with dark blonde hair and hunters glasses.No one else appeared until she had reached the bottom of the stairs and continued to look about for a moment. Hana came next, smiling at me, then her eyes were following Jormo as he moved to the car to retrieve little  Annela. Libra followed with Ms. Meacham on her heels. Libra still wasn't used to playing the second fiddle/personal assistant. A short Mongolian fireplug of a man was the last passenger down the stairs. He looked like, a wolverine with his feral, primordial energy and general hostility.I imagined the girl was his apprentice and he was the prime assassin. That was how the Ghost Tigers operated. They were doing me a deep personal favor by putting aside their normal role as hunters to take up body-guarding duties. According to Addison, they had also managed to get their fair share of killing people of various persuasions. Not only had the Seven Pillars tried to take her out more than once, Chinese Intelligence and some criminal cartels had taken an active interest in her too.The young woman scanned from me to Desiree, then to Sten. She had a good eye for threat assessment. Jormo was partially concealed, but would rather die than put Hana at risk. I was the ally of the 9 Clans, and she probably thought she could take me in a quick-draw contest. Desiree? She left Desiree for her mentor to worry about."Ms. Sulkanen?" Sten's closer minion walked her way. The bodyguards got in the way instinctively. The man reached into his coat and nearly died. The women did a palm strike to his windpipe then grabbed his tie, yanking him to the hard concrete floor of the hangar.(Russian) "He has a piece of paper," she stated in a detached manner"Sten, what is the meaning of this?" Hana worried. I moved toward the woman.(Russian) "I am Cáel Nyilas. Let me help."She did more than that. She retreated from the downed man and put her body between Hana and Sten.I was schooled enough now to realize that was the deception. I hadn't seen the older man draw a gun but I knew he now had one out. It was down by his side and he was using his body to shield it from view."Are these the kind of people you want around our daughter," Sten asked haughtily. I had an inkling suspicion. I wasn't alone.Desiree pushed past me and attended to the downed man. She had him standing, patted him on the back and frisked all inside ten seconds."He's a process server," she commented to the group."What he is here to do is serve you with papers, Hana," Sten grew angrier. "You are an unfit mother and have developed an unsafe environment for her to grow up in.""What?" Hana growled. "You don't like the fact that I've finally moved on and found someone new. You don't care a damn thing about our daughter.""We will let a judge decide that. Right now I have an order of detention for  Annela," he grinned wickedly."Ms. Sulkanen," the second of Sten's minions step forward more cautiously, "the Family Court in the State of New York has,"I laughed."Oh," Desiree looked my way then shared a sliver of a smile with me."There is nothing laughable, I assure you," the lawyer snapped."Really, what's your name?" I asked."Mr. Dornier, not that,""Where are we?""What does that matter?" then, "New York State.""Incorrect Dornier. You are on a Marine Corps base, dumbass. Look around you," I smirked."So? What does that mean?" Sten harangued us."This is federal property," I explained as I strode toward his car."Hey, what are you doing, I'm talking to you," Sten pursued me."Excuse me," I grinned. I flipped out my Amazon Honor Blade and slashed one of his tires."What?""Go for it," Hana simmered. "Touch Cáel and he will defend himself.""He has a knife," he countered. He didn't touch me. A second tire began to deflate. "That's assault with a deadly weapon.""It would be if he turned to face you, or anyone else," Desiree had her 'bored ~ don't press me' voice. "Right now he's being a vandal." She put her hand on the process server's shoulder and shoved him back toward Sten and Dornier. "You should know your jurisdictions, asshole," she told him."Hana, I will drive back with Cáel," Libra announced loudly. That was a cue for Hana to shoot me an apologetic look, which was odd, considering that even knowing me was putting her child custody at risk. It took me a second to realize what a bastard Sten could be. I also doubted he had three spare tires. I left one untouched as I headed for my car."Hana, I'll catch up with you after you talk with your lawyers," I called out. It was infuriating for me that this was her reception home. Sten had better be thanking his lucky stars we weren't alone or I would have pummeled his ass, and given him the nuclear wedgy of all times, jackalope."Let's go home," Libra tapped my arm. Desiree was watching Jormo's limo speed away. She didn't dawdle. The Marines would want their hangar back ASAP. We'd let them decide if they wanted to help Sten, or not. Desiree tossed me the keys. That was her way of telling me I need to blow of some steam, and not by getting frolic-ee with Libra on the hour long commute home.{11 pm, Monday, August 25th ~ 14 Days to go}{Late that night with Hana}"So, who was the guy who gave you this?" I looked over at Hana while running my hand over the silk scarf some lama in Lhasa had given her to give to me ~ a 'Thank You' gift for the liberation of his homeland and the aid package heading his peoples' way."I never got his name, but my translator said he had traveled for three days straight to be there for the celebration," she smiled warmly.I picked up my second gift and began to play with it. The object was a fascinating toy, all the more so because it was more than a child's plaything. It was a simple prayer wheel. I put the handle between my two palms and rubbed them back and forth, causing the two balls to beat against the drum heads."I think you find that thing more interesting than you do me," Hana pouted."Oh no you don't," I pounced on her. With one hand I tickled her while I placed my Tibetan gift aside. I didn't want us rolling over on it as we frolicked naked on her queen-sized bed. "You were a happy little camper ten minutes ago and you certainly drove your vigor home with this grand Lothario.""Eek!" she playfully tried to bat my hand aside. She began giggling hysterically.Even when I pulled away so that she could breathe, she kept snickering."What?" I worried. I had been ramping us up for a second round of sex. Round one had been 'comfort' sex, helping her compartmentalize her feelings for that bastard of an ex-husband and the threat he posed to her custodianship of her daughter,  Annela.Those were emotions she'd deal with later. Fretting about them tonight, her first night back in the States, was counter-productive. She knew that, which was why she'd accepted my dinner invitation. We had now been seen in public together for the first time since she became famous; afterwards we had traveled back to her place. How serious was I about cheering her up? I'd brought a spare suit, biking clothes and my bike. I was planning to spend the night and make my way to work my usual way come sunrise."I," she gasped, "asked Libra how you "compared" in her experience, which seems to be extensive, as a lover on the way over. And after several, very long, I must say, seconds of introspection, she told me you were indescribable and incomparable. I've been trying to put my thoughts together since Rome and, why are you scowling?""That was rude of you two," I now play-pouted. "I like to think I'm 'thunderous', though 'stunning' will do in a pinch."Hana helpfully pinched me. "Ow!" I squalled. And back to tickling I went. I quickly showed her my 'sheet-fu' was superior to hers, which meant I tangled her up in her sheets before she realized she was helpless before me. Or so I bragged. Hana played helpless well."Oh please, Mr. World-Conquering Wombat," she pleaded. Wombat?"Wombat?" I questioned her. "How have I become an irascible furry marsupial?""Well Honey, you need a shave," she teased me. "You are a little furry.""Romantically that is called a five o'clock shadow," I protested."It scratches my thighs," she murmured.I had a remedy for that. Sliding down to her hip, I turned my palms toward me, interlaced my fingers and positioned my thumbs pointing up. My chin rested on my fingers and the thumbs covered the sides, so when I stuck my tongue into the three-sided void created, my hands, but none of my scruffiness, touched her intimate flesh. Once I had this technique in place, I rolled over her thigh and got to work."I find," she gasped, "that you have the answer to that conundrum down pat. It makes me, ah, think I'm not your, ah, first girl." My dedication to my erotic task (and the carnal reward that waited) kept me from responding. Besides, my upper lip was busy rolling back and forth over her clitoris. There I let the bristles of my oncoming moustache teasingly tickle her. I was pleased when the pleasure I caused quieted her and she settled down to running her fingers across my crown as she ramped herself up toward a climax. 'Not my first girl' indeed.Forty-five minutes later, I was coming back to her room from the kitchen with a glass of tomato juice for her and rice wine for me (she was out of beer). I heard a noise from  Annela's room, so I deviated to make sure she was okay. I was in boxers, not totally naked.  Annela was out like a light, caught up in some sort of childish dream. By the cherubic grin on her face, she was having a good one.She was another delicate female issue in my life. I had made her existence harder by just being me. Hana let me know that nothing 'bad' had better happen to her ex-husband, Sten. I couldn't beat him up, threaten him, or sic any of my Amazons on him. Stupidly, I had asked if using the CIA was okay. She'd banned all of JIKIT intervening as well, negating the use of the best pest removal people on the planet, the 9 Clans."You are going to have to get used to children making sounds while they sleep," Hana surprised me. "You'll learn to tell the dreams from the nightmare.""In spades, I'm going to have to learn that in spades," I nodded.{4 pm, Tuesday, August 26th ~ 13 Days to go}My schedule had remained steady. I had firearms practice at 6 am every morning, was in Katrina's office by 7 and working my cue by 7:15. According to my regular morning briefings, I continued to be a menace to the foundations of freedom, civilization and the terrestrial biosphere. It was wonderful to stand there side by side with my fellow New Hires.At lunch, around 11 o'clock, I had a brief get together with the other members of the Amazon diplomatic corps since I was still Chief Diplomat of the Host ~ we were a small unit. Daphne, who now worked with JIKIT, would give me a brief briefing on what the 'office' was up to in my name. I gladly kept my distance from their regularly scheduled mayhem. The truce in China didn't stop the Secret War from raging on and on.My three o'clock knife training with Pamela was slowly evolving into a greater study of human fighting philosophy and anatomy. I still studied the techniques of a larger single bladed hunting knife as well as the hilt-less, double bladed Amazon Honor Blade. Pamela promised me she'd start teaching me how to do the 'long-distance' and 'short'/snap throw for the blades. She made it look so easy.Pamela also began educating me on the basics and basis of the Amazon personal hand-to-hand fighting style. The eight points of emphasis in Amazon combat were: the finger, fist, elbow, shoulder, foot, heel, knee and hip. It encouraged channeling both your energies and the energy of your opponents by using fluid blows and throws. It also worked well with the close-in knife fighting Pamela was teaching me. Working with her once more did her as much good as me. We had come to feed off one another's moods, which was a good thing.Tuesday, walking to the elevator at the end of the session, the door opened to reveal Rachel talking to an SD chick I barely knew, Meridian."Oh, it is great to see you, Rachel," I enthusiastically stated. Her hesitation as she replied worried me."It is great to see you too, Cael Wakko Ishara," she responded softly, compassionately."Ladies, can you spare Rachel and I some private time," I asked Meridian and Pamela."Come on," Pamela addressed the SD Amazon, "we have tons of nothing to talk about.""As you wish, Ishara," Meridian answered. She looked to Rachel. She stepped off the elevator as Pamela stepped on. Away they went."I heard you were back in New York," I told her."I heard you were off of JIKIT for the time being.""I was running on fumes psychologically and my body wasn't too much better. Javiera gave me a week off. I go back Thursday.""That was the right move, Cáel," she said. "You've been stuck sweating both the small stuff and being caught up in the big picture. That is a humongous burden to bear for someone with your training and background.""I know, I'm not ready for where my life has taken me.""No one is, Cáel. You have training that has let you get this far when most of us would be lost. You carry that weight, plus you've had to work the physical side of the equation. I get to focus on you. You've had to focus on all of us."Rachel was being both honest and kind. I felt a sudden renewed kinship with my primary guardian."Thanks for that, Rachel, can I tell you a secret? Something you can't tell another soul. Something I've never told another living person?" I could tell Rachel. I couldn't tell Katrina because she was so close to Hayden. Pamela, Pamela had already prepared herself for a miserable afterlife and wouldn't have connected with my pain for another.Since she was my 'sister' in Ishara, I couldn't really confide in Buffy, but only an Amazon would understand my thoughts on the matter. It had to be Rachel."I cannot betray the Host, but you know that. What is it you wish to share?""Hayden lived life as an Anahit, yet lives forever in the Halls of the Isharans." Since that was now well known, Rachel knew that couldn't be the secret."When I was trying to induct her, Dot Ishara refused her entry. I thought she was challenging me and I was right.""I recall that she wouldn't accept Hayden, even though her death was righteous in the name of the Host. Has no one ever asked you what changed Ishara's mind? Not Buffy, or Helena?""Neither one ever asked. I think it was because they sensed I didn't want to talk about it, nor insult them by not opening up. Ishara refused Hayden because of me. I was refusing to accept my place in the Host. I kept playing, pretending, I was not really one of you. I kept thinking I could divorce myself from the evil we did because I was special.""But you weren't special in the way I think you are using the word," she nodded. "You were chosen by the Ancestors to be one of us, man, or not.""Yeah. I stupidly put my life on the line because I wanted to be the 'good guy'. I've always wanted to be the 'good guy', even when I hurt people. I'd tell the girl it was my fault, yet I excused that behavior by thinking that I hadn't meant to hurt anyone, so I was okay. I have never blamed myself for any of the shit I caused.""That has always been a rather annoying quality of yours," she noted."When I was on the roof of Havenstone, daring Ishara with my life on the line, that's when I felt it. I owed and owned my Amazon heritage in that moment. I finally blamed myself for something, for not accepting sacrifices were being made for me and I was dishonoring every one of you by denying their purpose.""You are Ishara," Rachel stated firmly. That was her entire argument."I had to believe that. I had to believe I was nothing more than one Amazon in a long line of Amazons dating back to that first night of betrayal. I had to realize I was one of many, not someone special, with special rules. I wasn't getting to be the good guy, or even the bad guy. I was just, an Amazon. One more Ishara among the hundreds that stood in my place.""And it took that moment for you to realize what most Amazons know from the age of five," Rachel stroked my cheek. "It is easy for us to forget your bravery comes from a place that is uniquely you and you didn't grow up around the fires with tales of our mothers, grandmothers and all those who have come before. We see our honor is gold and sing the songs in the First Tongue. We live as Amazons.""I wanted you to know because," I faltered at the last memory."Charlotte. You want to make peace with me about Charlotte," she touched my cheek yet again. "Cáel, I told her mother and daughter about how she died. They want to meet Vincent when he is feeling better. They want to talk to you. They worry about you not understanding that Charlotte lives and will live on until the Sun dies and the stars burn out.""Charlotte was in the Warband that killed Ajax the Unconquered, Cáel. She fell on that ridge, looking down on Ishara's triumph over Ajax and her spirit took the news of that victory to the next life. She is a welcome exemplar to House Ska i. She will be remembered in the lists of the Security Detail, our Warrior Elite. Charlotte was my friend and I didn't wish her to die, but war is what we do. And she buried her enemies and saved our lives."Ska i was a j tunn and the Nordic goddess associated with bow-hunting, skiing, winter, and mountains. I had known her house. The SD didn't talk about their families much because of their devotion to the craft of war, so I had never known her mother was still alive, or that she had a daughter."She did much more than die, Cáel. She killed men so that when you finished with Ajax, none of them, left on that field, could avenge him," she added."I hadn't looked at it that way," I confessed. "I'd like to meet her family. You said she has a daughter. I didn't know.""You didn't need the distraction. We all knew you would have only done incredibly stupid things trying to keep us alive. If it helps, she is five and cried freely, deeply and long. Her mother is fifty-two and runs a freehold in Saskatchewan. She'll be around for a long time, trust me."Charlotte's mother had to be one tough D O B (daughter of a bitch) to see sixty. I did know she was the second of five daughters, with the middle one being in the Ska i House Guard."I am doing something for, well, for me, but for Charlotte too. Sakuniyas is leading seventeen House Isharans and two ladies from MI-6 in West Africa.""I'd heard about that," she smiled. "Charlotte's Fist." Four (the core of any war band) was a sacred number to the Amazons, as was five (the number of digits) so twenty was a classic warrior unit. It was also the number of the original houses. Normally these groups were referred to by their leader's name, but I wanted the Condotteiri to know they'd killed the wrong Amazon and Sakuniyas agreed to the naming convention.The Condos had sent Ajax to Hungary and Romania to kill me. Charlotte had died stopping them, but this was not a matter of revenge. This honored her and was a request for her to watch over those who sought inspiration from her when they went into battle. West-Central Africa was one of the three Amazon Homeland (Eastern Europe and Southern India being the other two) and was where the war was heating up.JIKIT (Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce) became involved when the Condos and Coils of the Serpent (one of the 9 Assassin Clans) began killing local civilian and military leaders. The Condos did it to spread chaos for them to use as a smoke screen behind which they could hide the large numbers of mercenaries in the area hunting down the Amazons. The Coils attacked any official that was on the Condo's payroll.As the body count began to rise, the US and UK began having 'normal' covert agencies investigate the killings, yet they remained blind to the reasons behind the actions. It wasn't until a whole Condo 'training camp' ended up being extinguished that they realized there was a third player in the game (as opposed to the governments and the rogue mercenaries).The Coils of the Serpent were one step ahead of the intelligence agencies. And that allowed the Amazons to hunt down the Condos. We in JIKIT had estimated it was roughly 15,000 Condotteiri foot soldiers (consisting of mercs, local paramilitaries and the occasional regular army commander) versus the roughly 3000 Amazons and 1000 members of the 9 Clans. The Golden Mare was asking for Havenstone and the Freeholds in North and South America to raise up 'fists' to join the struggle in Africa. In Belize they would be trained for two months to ten weeks in jungle warfare before heading over."Are your people going to be ready?" Rachel inquired."We have done well in Japan," I replied. "The former 'Runners' actually do better moving through urbanized society than their Old School Amazon sisters.""I heard they are more prone to taking orders from the Ninja," she looked me in the eyes."I told them to. This is the Ninja's war and we serve them best by doing what we do best ~ taking the fight to the Seven Pillars when they expose themselves," I clarified. "And you got me off talking about Charlotte," I realized a second later."A long period of mourning is not our way, Cáel," she confided. "You were our friend, but you were our mission first and foremost. That hasn't changed.""Are you going to," I began to say 'remain my bodyguard'."Yes. I have a dozen House Guard members expressing a desire to join the Security Detail and be our new electronics expert. Eight of those I'm giving serious consideration to.""The other four?" I asked."Three are too young and are too interested in you for my taste. One is too old and a rather odd individual.""I like odd.""I will reconsider her then," she allowed."Are you saying that to make me happy?""No," Rachel grinned. "I admire your instincts. Do you know how soon you will be needing us?""I'm going to stay in town until the Great Hunt. After my stupendous victory, I'll see if I can get to Brazil, so mid-September.""It will take longer to integrate a member ~ the last week of November," she bargained. I really wasn't in the mood to argue. I was too much the boy who was glad to see his primary guardian standing before him. Pamela was by far the most loving and lethal one of the pack. Rachel was my rock. She kept me alive and I helped give her something to live for, even if it was a flawed 'me'."And Wakko, you don't need to give me a piece of your soul to replace Charlotte. What is hers is hers and what is ours is ours. I'll always miss her and I'm okay with that. She was a good friend and a proud compatriot and I loved her. I never had any sisters of the flesh. Mona, Tiger Lily and Charlotte have been the only real family I've had. I will find another sister and I can now accept that.""Is it alright if I still miss her?" I pondered."Of course, Ishara. Will you still be capable of taking my orders when required?""Yes. If I started ignoring your advice, I wouldn't have been worthy of leading someone like Charlotte into battle. I can honor her by letting you do your job.""Thank you. I still worry about you trying to save everyone, but now I'll worry a little less," she confessed."I still plan to do crazy stuff, hey, do you have a daughter?""No.""Want one?""I'm in the final drawing of lots for the Great Hunt," she smiled once more."You could just ask.""My way is more fun. This way I'll be sure you'll obey," she let her eyes sparkle with a mirthful fire."Don't think I'll go easy on you. I plan to win," I pledged."Of course not. Why would you change now?""I'd rather you bust my balls than mock me?" I pouted. "Instead of spending a moving moment, you are cheering me up.""It is my job to look after you, even now," she stroked my neck affectionately."Especially now," I added as I hit the elevator button."Let's catch up with the others. I need to tell Meridian that she's back in the running.""Oh, that is fortunate," I grinned. "Oh, we'll start our mission to Brazil on Thursday, February 12th.""Is there a significance of that date?"I laughed. I put an arm around her shoulder as the doors opened. There were two others Havenstone ladies onboard."Carnival in Rio de Janeiro!" I exulted. "Half a million tourists a day. Two million Brazilians. Everyone wears a mask. What's not to love?""You are so fortunate you waited until you had witnesses around," Rachel groused."Desiree says it's bad for my prestige to be beaten in public," I chortled. "I'm glad you agree.""Maybe we can spar on the mats today when you get off work?""Oh, I'd like to see that," one of the other Amazons remarked. "Weapons or hand-to-hand?""I'll let him use a weapon. I'll use my hands. I want him to think he has a chance," Rachel declared. My arm was still around her shoulder, so I knew she wasn't really pissed."Didn't you kill Ajax?" the other one noted."He tripped over his shoelaces and impaled himself on his own sword," I sighed dramatically.Since the two women looked at one another, then to Rachel, I knew I'd told the lie well."Cáel had an ally shoot a grenade overhead, Ajax died in the confusion, so whatever blow killed him is irrelevant. Cáel beat Ajax with his mind before a single blow was landed. He made his foe fight his battle and that was how Wakko Ishara won," Rachel responded."Like an Amazon," the first one nodded."With balls," I added."An Amazon with balls? I guess you are, but I don't think the testes mattered in that you beat our foe in a matter your ancestors can be proud of," the second one said."Well said," Rachel nodded."Thank you," I shook her hand. "I'm Cáel Wakko Ishara aka Nyilas.""Oh, I'm Wynona of Allatu," she answered. She shook my hand, I ran a finger over her pulse and got her to blush slightly. Allatu was the Goddess of the Underworld in Canaanite mythology and one of the First Houses."Behave," Rachel whispered."Not likely," I whispered back."Did I say something wrong?" Wynona worried."No. Rachel is my moral guardian. So, do you want to go fishing, I mean swimming tomorrow after work, say 5:15?" I inquired."Sure," her smile broadened. "I excel in the water.""Good, maybe you can teach me a thing or two," I answered. The door opened at the lobby and there stood Desiree."Here," Rachel shoved me out the door. "Take him before he fishes himself into more trouble.""I understand," Desiree grumbled. "Come on fisherman. Financial Investigations is working late tonight and we need to pick up Italian food for twenty-two.""Lead and I shall follow," I proclaimed."Why do you call him the 'Fisherman'," Wynona asked Rachel."Fish, barrel, I'll explain it to you on the way to the garage," Rachel sighed. The doors shut and off we all went.{7:10 pm, Wednesday, August 27th ~ 12 Days to go}"Will you still be having dinner with us once you return back to JIKIT?" Europa asked as Lorraine passed me some Cajun rice."Every Monday and Wednesday night and on Fridays early," I grinned."We are going to be spending some time in Doebridge over the Labor Day weekend," Europa griped. "Do you want to come with us and save Aya from retelling her ordeal to yet another band of pre-Amazons?""Aya, do you want me to run interference for you?" I asked."No," she smiled. "I want you to train for the Great Hunt. Aunt Katrina says Elsa is virtually a guarantee to be one of the thirty.""Ugh," I groaned. "That's the cherry on the top of a rather bizarre day.""Was today bad?" Loraine asked."Let me see, for starters I got to use a variety of weird weapons for firearms practice. I had a feeling I was part of a round-robin, the way they rotated their assistance to me. In the elevator, I was with Brielle and her buddy when we had a security drill. The elevator cut off, but the air handler went into overdrive, dropping the temperature. After a quick democratic vote, I lost my shirt to an impromptu fire to stay warm, alive," I chuckled. "Then we cuddled together for warmth. I was about to lose my undershirt and pants when the alert ended.""Security alerts last less than fifteen minutes," Caitlyn noted. "I doubt you were in any danger of freezing to death.""Brielle was under the impression security alerts could last hours, despite my questionable knowledge otherwise from the handbook I'd read. Since she had the seniority, I thought she knew better.""So now you are shirtless," Europe smirked."I had a spare shirt stashed in Katrina's office, but I was required to change during the meeting because we were running late. Oh, and yesterday I forgot to feed some genetically superior white rats at one of our labs. Apparently they gnawed through their cages, broke out and now are in the Manhattan underworld, plotting a rodent rebellion," I related."Oh, that was my idea," Loraine perked up."Do you sit around the table with Katrina thinking up this kind of crap!" I protested."Occasionally," Caitlyn admitted. "Most of those are pure Katrina though.""Glad to know my misery is a family bonding experience.""You should be glad to know we care about you," Europa beamed."Yeah, I'll remember that and once you are casted I'm going to absolutely abuse my authority in some serious payback," I faux-glared at her."I promise you we will make it fun," Aya pledged."You would betray your own sisters?" Caitlyn questioned."Sisters are sisters, Mother, but boon companions are for life," Aya countered."That's cool, Mom," Europa snorted. "We'll always be taller than Aya, and faster.""Only more proof she'll be smarter," Caitlyn shook her head. "So Cáel what happened next?""What makes you think the rest of my day wasn't mundane and boring?""According to Katrina, you are the best stress reliever at Havenstone since they put in the Jacuzzis. With it being open season on you today, I figured your day was one misadventure after another," Caitlyn smiled warmly."Fine, I had to go to Financial Investigations to discuss my expense account in Europe.""That doesn't sound all that exciting," Loraine said."We were in the pool swimming in the classic Amazon style, I swear, sometime I think I should go to work wearing nothing but a trench coat and a smile," I grouched."Did you make any babies?" Aya chirped."No, I can't have that kind of fun with any employees for another twelve more days. Anyway, they were quite cross with me not using their services and let me know for an hour and, thirty-six minutes. After that I had to get a reference physical.""You are as healthy as a horse," Europa neighed."Funny Epona," I sniffed indignantly. "You are a load of laughs, filly. After I had been turned into a prune they made me undress again. There was some nonsense about all the combat I had been in had made me shorter and given me muscle constriction.""That is a good one," Aya nodded. "I'm glad they were being as creative as you are, Atta.""Who is to say that I'm not being the creative one here?" I winked at her."Were your muscles 'constricted'?" Loraine snickered. Europa gave her a thumbs up for joining on the fun."Nope, all my reflexes are in working order and I can still salute on demand," I smiled. "Which was good because after that, I worked through lunch with Acquisitions discussing Khanate plans for Siberia." There was a pause."What was so horrid about that?" Loraine inquired, as if I had been tortured up until that point."We had to do the whole three hour routine on the practice mats. I was pinned grappled and I had something that was strangely reminiscent of a titty-snuggle. I mean, all that skin-tight clothing, close contact and sweaty bodies was murder on my concentration," I confessed."We aren't going to be investing in Siberia, are we?" Aya winked at me."I don't know. I spent three hours saying "I don't know" and "I haven't a clue.""You are good at that," Europa jibed. I flicked a pea at her, bouncing it off her chin. She was getting ready for a spaghetti & meatball counterattack when Caitlyn's cough brought her up short."He is the Head of House Ishara. He can act that way. You are Epona and we are better behaved."Europa stuck her tongue at me, I returned the gesture and this time Caitlyn's cough was aimed at me. She followed that up by rubbing her foot along my shin. I smiled at her, then caught Aya smiling at the both of us. Then I recalled Aya had set the table, damn it."I'll get us dessert," Aya beamed happiness my way. I was thinking about dessert alright, damn that girl.{Rhada Revisited}"I'm home gang," I exhaled. "Ready to go out?" and was promptly shot with a Nerf gun. "What did I do this time?"Timothy and Odette were getting off the sofa. Odette was taking aim while Timothy left his single-shot where he'd been sitting."We are going out. You are not," Timothy grinned. "You have company in the bedroom.""Man, I was looking forward to," then Odette shot me in the stomach with her six shot nerf repeater."You have company," Odette emphasized the 'company' part. To me this implied someone who I couldn't seduce with a few words, maybe get busy for half an hour then go out partying. That could only mean,I opened my door and there lay Rhada, completely naked, hogtied and bound. She had even been gagged. Her look of hate and loathing turned to, something else; part fear and part heartsick yearning. Could Timothy and Odette, really just Timothy, I loved Odette but she had the combat skills of a Tribble. Could Timothy defeat Rhada so thoroughly that she could be so bound?Not likely. I'd been neglecting her, What with being kidnapped, running off to Europe and generally doing my job, I'd neglected her well-defined physique, olive skin and athletic curves. I'd been a fool for letting her waste away while I'd been 'not' earning a paycheck. Hell, I was working too much. I'd played around in college and still managed to graduate with good grades, and it wasn't like I had been hired for my brains."Oh, I've been missing this," I relished her helplessness while rubbing my palms together."Mumph," Rhada protested. It was hard for her to move her body. Her legs were bound above the knee to her shins while her ankles were lashed together and then to the top of her thighs.Her elbows and wrists were tied behind her back, wrists to wrist. The ropes securing her arms crisscrossed above and below her breasts and looped around her neck. She looked tightly secured. A bit too secured. I couldn't see how to un-hog-tie her."Don't you dare go anywhere," I warned Rhada then backed out of the room hurriedly."I suggested the ass plug!" Odette smiled as I turned around. I'd missed that given the shapeliness of her buttock,"I color-coded the ends of the ropes for you. Pull the yellow, then green and then pink and she'll come undone just fine. I put some ointment by the bedside for after. It will help numb the burn and promotes healing without scarring," Timothy patted me on the shoulder. "Now that you've b

Rescue and patchwork relationship.B Book 3 in 18 parts, y FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.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 Lúsìla 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 18th. 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

WMAL GUESTL 6:35 AM - INTERVIEW - PROF. DONALD KOCHAN - (koh-shen like ocean) – energy law expert and Director of the Law & Economics Center at George Mason’s Antonin Scalia Law School Liberal Activist Judge bars Trump’s EPA from taking back $20 BILLION in climate grants Where to find more about WMAL's morning show: Follow the Show Podcasts on Apple podcasts, Audible and Spotify. Follow WMAL's "O'Connor and Company" on X: @WMALDC, @LarryOConnor, @Jgunlock, @patricepinkfile, and @heatherhunterdc. Facebook: WMALDC and Larry O'Connor Instagram: WMALDC Show Website: https://www.wmal.com/oconnor-company/ How to listen live weekdays from 5 to 9 AM: https://www.wmal.com/listenlive/ Episode: Thursday, March 20, 2025 / 6 AM Hour See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Mark Fleming breaks down January's New Home Sales report, which missed expectations. He notes that home prices have come down over the last few years, though high mortgage rates are affecting affordability. He thinks that if wages can continue to rise, the housing market will even out more. “Barring a major recession,” he doesn't think mortgage rates will fall below 6%.======== Schwab Network ========Empowering every investor and trader, every market day.Subscribe to the Market Minute newsletter - https://schwabnetwork.com/subscribeDownload the iOS app - https://apps.apple.com/us/app/schwab-network/id1460719185Download the Amazon Fire Tv App - https://www.amazon.com/TD-Ameritrade-Network/dp/B07KRD76C7Watch on Sling - https://watch.sling.com/1/asset/191928615bd8d47686f94682aefaa007/watchWatch on Vizio - https://www.vizio.com/en/watchfreeplus-exploreWatch on DistroTV - https://www.distro.tv/live/schwab-network/Follow us on X – / schwabnetwork Follow us on Facebook – / schwabnetwork Follow us on LinkedIn - / schwab-network About Schwab Network - https://schwabnetwork.com/about

Not the welcome we expectedWhen your tour guide is an assassin, what can go wrong?By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.You can do wrong while trying to do right.FlashbackAlal's 'milk of human kindness' had finally run dry as the Visigoths sacked his Roman villa. While looters ran off with his latest trappings of wealth, and deserted by his servants and his slaves, Grandpa decided that he was tired of fucking around with the Human Race. He felt they were simply too stupid, venal and weak to make any positive, lasting changes in the world.Alal decided that he was going to make the key choices for them. Fuck free will. Fuck letting the vermin that floated to the top of the cesspool destroy everything good in the world, as he had witnessed them doing time and time again. He had lost count of the monuments destroyed, histories of peoples forgotten and benefits to mankind burned away by barbarism and ignorance.By the fading light of August the 26th, 410 CE, Alal found himself sitting back in the pergola (a sort of mini-gazebo) in his rear gardens, drinking through several amphora of wine all the while having a deep philosophical debate with the several dozen very dead Goths decorating his environs.As three or four looters would enter the garden, he would kill them. And then three or four more would show up looking for the earlier group,, on and on. This reinforced Alal's belief that something drastic had to be done. He seriously considered going to the coast, getting a ship and five solid stone anchors. He'd sail out two days, maybe three, wrap himself in the anchors and jump overboard.The problem, as he saw it, was that given a few decades, the ropes would rot and he'd bob to the surface to see again that none of the fundamentals had changed. Further complicating his current thinking was that every time he came close to throwing in the cosmic towel, some more GOD DAMN GOTHS would come around, calling for their buddies, the dead ones. Somewhere around noon on August the 27th, Alal vowed that he was tired of this shit.Right on cue, around twenty Goths came strolling through the rear of his villa and soaked up the carnage out back. Fifty-two of their brethren were in various states of dismemberment and defilement (Alal had been, as usual, angry). They saw this dark-skinned Roman and rightly asked 'where's the army that killed these fellows?' He walked up to them in his wine-splashed toga."Are you the one in charge?" he asked the meanest looking Visigoth in passible Goth."I am," the leader responded. With lightning speed, he killed the man with his own sword. The Germans weren't sure what to make of that, it had happened so fast."You can join me," Alal indicated himself, "or you can join him," he indicated the corpse of their former leader. He had his new band of followers and the rest was Illuminati history.End FlashbackFor me, this meant more to me than living with the memories of a very bitter, driven and pitiless man. Alal was essentially the anti-me. It gave me chills to realize that all of Alal's gifts were bestowed on me with a purpose. I knew it was part of his greater plan. Normally, to end-run an evil genius, you just find him and kill him. Not only would Alal not stay dead, I now knew how well he could fight.I knew only four people who might be in his league, and I wasn't one of them. Of the four, Sakuniyas wasn't likely to help Pamela, Saint Marie and Elsa get the job done. That meant I had to rev up the deception engine to comfort my Aunts with hope, while dispelling the knowledge of how little they mattered to their sire. Almost as bad, I had to ignore what horribly people they were while extending that portion of my soul.It was with some relief that I hugged, kissed, and forcefully separated myself from the Aunts in Dublin. We were going on to Budapest's Ferenc Liszt International Airport. My next action was to make my request to Selena for a contract with the Ghost Tigers to defend Hana when she arrived in Russia. (Of the three 9 Clan Assassin-Babes, Selena was the least impressed with me.) She informed me that the Ghost Tigers didn't do bodyguard work. I still wanted her to relay my request, so she relented. After that, I passed out.We left Dublin around 9:30 am Friday morning and landed in Budapest at 1:45 pm., still Friday. As Rachel rousted me so I could grab a quick shower before touchdown, I was gifted with the misconceptions of my fellow travelers:To put it nicely, Riki thought I was somewhat revolting, Virginia was disturbed and Chaz had lowered his opinion of my moral character. It was the incest thing. Vincent being polite was a pleasant surprise, Delilah's camaraderie less so and Odette was peaches with my most recent sexcapades. She was far too good to me. The Amazons uniformly didn't give a crap."So, is there going to be any other bizarre behavior we should be prepared for?" Riki sat down next to me as I was drying my hair. I was back to my 'jeans, t-shirt and wind-breaker' style."Fine, " I said loudly. "It is really none of your business what I did with and to my mother's clones. Yes, they are all clones of my mother, who died when I was seven." A lie."They are also the genetic creations of my grandfather, also known by many as Cáel O'Shea. They are sterile, they are wickedly evil, and two weeks ago I didn't know they existed. I do have a real aunt in Maryland. She's my Father's sister and is not part of the menagerie. Oh yeah, my grandpa is currently a disembodied spirit, back from the Netherworld and looking for a body to take over, if he hasn't found one already," I added."He was born roughly five thousand years ago, was cursed by an ancient Sumerian Goddess such that he can never just die and stay dead. I have his memories running around my head, which, along with denying me a good night's sleep, allows me to speak an assortment of languages, use virtually every weapon built before 1970 and know that he is a vicious criminal mastermind the likes of which you've never imagined outside of fiction.How does that sound, Riki? Shall I get more bizarre? Trust me, I can," I regarded her evenly. She was speechless, but not out of awe. No, she was certain that I was completely unhinged."Everyone who believes Cáel, raise their hand," Odette demanded. Her hand went up. Odette and the Amazons agreeing was expected by the outsiders. Delilah and Virginia joining in was not."Captain Fairchild?" Colour Sgt. Chaz Tomorrow requested clarification."You've all seen those five O'Shea's that left the plane in Ireland. Barring some cosmetic changes, they were the exact same woman. You can either go with Sean Connery's Tak-ne creating a female clone army, or you can believe there is an otherworldly plastic surgeon altering a cadre of super-rich bitches to all look alike," Delilah, who was a captain of something, put out there."Who in the Hell is Tak-ne?" Riki mumbled."Duh," I poked the State Department lassie. "Connor MacLeod's Egyptian mentor in Highlander, the original movie and in the less than stellar sequel, Highlander: The Quickening"."You are mistaken. Connery was that Spanish guy," Riki poked me back."Actually, the relevant quote is: 'I am Juan Sánchez Villalobos Ramírez, Chief metallurgist to King Charles V of Spain. And I'm at your service'," Vincent regaled us with his movie trivia. "He later reveals that he was born Tak-ne in Egypt in the 9th century BCE. Also, his Spanish name makes no sense, he has one too many surnames.""Agent Loire, I am beginning to find intelligent men to be attractive," Charlotte said."Umm, thank you," Vincent responded warily."This might be a good point to get something clear," Chaz inquired. "Mr. Nyilas, whose side are you on? It appears to be rather complicated.""Okay, Chaz, call me Cáel. Calling me Mr. Nyilas makes me miss my dad. I can also be addressed as Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, Head of House Ishara of the First Twenty Houses of the Amazon Host. Or, you can call me what the Great Khan does, Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege. Finally, those who love me, or find me amusing, may call me Fehér mén."Selena's snort indicated she'd failed to hide her amusement at my presumptiveness, both titular and physically."Do you want to explain what's so amusing?" Riki looked over to the Black Hand assassin."Your job should be exceptionally easy now," Selena mocked me, "Prince of Hungry and Transylvania, or do you prefer 'White Stud'?""Laugh while you can, Monkey-Girl," I sneered. "The guy currently making a run at erasing seven hundred years of Asian history gave me that title. As for Fehér mén, that means 'White Stallion' and is symbolic of my ties to House Epona, not a phallic reference." Riki's look had gone from disgust, to anger (because she thought she was being played) and lastly, to shock."No," I interpreted her fear. "I am not here as some vanguard to unite the Magyar people to their cultural kinfolk in Central Asia. If you know your Central European history, you might recall that the Mongols devastated my homeland. For the next 450 years, the Turks were unwelcome visitors, conquerors and overlords. My princely status is a pat on the head for a job well done and nothing more.""What job did you do?" Riki prodded."I saved a man's life," I looked pained to admit. She didn't get it."It must have been a major VIPs life," Chaz suggested."You can say that," Pamela nodded. "End of discussion time too."At Ferenc Liszt International, we were diverted to a private hangar once more, courtesy of the Republic of Ireland's diplomatic umbrella. Three grey Ford Focuses and a white panel truck advertising a furniture repair store awaited us. Security issues were immediately obvious. They wanted to separate us (in the Fords) from most of our luggage (in the truck).The five guy welcoming party hid under the cloak of 'don't speak any language you claim to speak' and Selena was of zip help. So, I spoke to them in Hungarian. They glanced my way, but didn't respond. Serbian? Nope. Romanian? Nope."Bows and doves," I commanded.That translated rather logically as 'guns/bows' and 'phones/doves'. Out came our pistols. The only Black Hand to react fast enough was Selena and Pamela had her covered. The Amazons were aiming at the locals while Delilah and Chaz had their weapons out and scanning. Vincent and Virginia hadn't been fast enough, this time. They also didn't have guns pointed at them.The lead BH flunky began talking calmly in German, heavily Slavic accented German."What do you think you are doing?" he inquired of me, in German."Disarming you, ya Moron," I grumbled. Then added in Hittite; "Go", and in my Amazons went to very roughly search, disarm and de-phone our not so friendly friends."Alright, gather up your luggage," I called out to my group. "We are walking to town." That wasn't truly accurate. There was a metro associated with the airport, a kilometer away max. Our guides didn't speak English so they were rather surprised when the bags came out of the truck and were distributed to their owners. Riki Martin and Odette were in some trouble.Girls and 'only packing the necessities', Well, we had some diplomatic lumber to toss at the security services, Vincent had web-searched our location and the route we needed to take to the metro, and Delilah had purchased week-long public transport passes for the group. Only when we started marching out of the hangar did the BH comprehend the totality of their error.The five guys in the hangar were chattering away, in Hungarian, and Selena was peeved."You are upsetting my superiors by blatantly disrespecting their courtesy," she reminded me. "They have guaranteed your safety.""Less than a day has passed since the shootout in London, Selena," I countered."This is the Black Hand's backyard," Selena persisted, "not London.""So, you are only going to help us if we do stupid shit we wouldn't do, even on our own home ground, is that it?" I chuckled. "Sweet," then, to my people, "I guess we are on our own."The airport security guards didn't know what to make of our group of over-worked Sherpa, but the US State department and the RoI (Republic of Ireland) vouched for us, so they let us pass.We hadn't taken the cars and the truck because that would have been theft. The confiscated guns and phones had been disassembled and tossed into a large iron drum of used aviation lubricant. Odette began shopping around for hotel reservations (I was carrying most of her gear). She was the logical choice because she sounded the most human of the bunch.Selena called her people back, explained the fuck up and engaged in a mutual ass-chewing that spilled over a half-dozen languages and ended up with Dick-head, the local BH chieftain providing us with quarters that would turn a blind eye to our arsenal. With that address in mind, we made for the bowels of modern Budapest.Dutifully, Riki contacted the US Embassy to Hungary's CIA mission head and Chargé D' Affaires, a.i., updating them on our arrival and movements. At the last moment, I had Riki relay the wrong address, on a paranoid hunch. I was right to be paranoid except I was looking in the wrong direction.We had just disembarked at the Kőbánya-Kispest M3 station when we walked into the rolling ambush. A 'rolling ambush' is like a meeting engagement, the difference being that one side (ours) is on the move, not knowing it is being hunted while the other side (our attackers) was rushing to catch up with us, not knowing where along the path they would find us.As we preparing to transition from the station to the attached terminal, looking for the bus line that would connect us to the BH safe house in the Kőbánya (X) District, our attackers were dismounting their vehicles from across the street as well as to our left and right. They were dressed like cops. Had they been armed like cops,"Oh look," I snickered to Pamela, "I see a whole bunch of heavily armed people coming our way.""Good for you," Pamela muttered. "Your eyes are still working.""Do you think they are here to raise me up on their shields and proclaim me 'Prince'?" I joked."I think they are here to kill us," Pamela grinned."I prefer to think positively," I grinned back."I am positive they are here to kill us," Pamela laughed. It had to be our relaxed demeanor that confused them.Had we been the droids they were looking for, we wouldn't have been chatting in the open with our bags in our hands. That would have made us crazy, and they would have been right. We were crazy alright and there was a method to our madness. It was mid-afternoon, yet there were plenty of average Hungarians wandering about.Sure, they saw the 'special cops' closing in. They didn't see the upcoming shoot-out because that was plain nuts. A gun battle in a modern metropolis in broad daylight? London yesterday was an aberration, not the new normal. Our impromptu plan was to let the killers get as close as possible to limit the collateral damage.This wasn't classic Amazon training. It was a concession to allies who did care about civilians killed in the cross-fire. The oncoming hit squad was finally putting faces to targets when Odette broke the calm before the storm. All she did was squeak when Vincent pushed her behind a kiosk. Riki took Virginia shifting her to cover in silence.Delilah took off at a dead-run to the south-east. They were raising their shotguns and assault rifles. We were drawing our pistols. Normally this would have been an unequal match, except that in the time period where, in their eyes, we had gone from bystanders to targets, they'd also covered a good deal of ground, to the point that they were out in the open while my fighting band was in close proximity to all kinds of cover.It started out as eighteen to twelve. Pamela, Chaz and Selena quickly cut down those odd by five. Me? I didn't try to shoot and run at the same time, so I made it to cover and was stuck there by our opponents use of fully-automatic fire.My lack of martial prowess could be forgiven by the reality I was the one they were trying to off. My greatest contribution to this skirmish was tossing my SPAS-12 to Chaz so he could use something more than his standard military issue Glock-17. I had barely gotten Chaz's appreciative nod when two grenades went off in close proximity to me.At first, I heard and felt nothing. My eyes were having trouble focusing. When my limbs began to orient themselves, I had to fight down the instinct to move. I was lying down, which was far safer than staggering around in the middle of this hail of lead. The twin grenades turned out to be their second and very fatal mistake on this mission.The first had been their delay in identifying my group. The second, using the stun grenades, did put me, Pamela and Selena out of commission temporarily. But their mistake was having misplaced my six Amazons in this mess they had created. They did have thirteen shooters versus Chaz, Virginia and Vincent. They rushed our position using the classic advance while firing rote.Two meters from me, the six Amazons revealed themselves with five P-90's and one big-ass bow. Four escaped the kill zone only to find themselves flanked by Delilah. Her .480, combined with their confusion, finished off the survivors. That wasn't the end of it. We still had to effect our get-away.I was still getting my head on straight as the ladies decided to hotwire some of the deceased men's rides and get us the heck out of Dodge. Recovery brought with it the knowledge that Virginia and Chaz had been shot. Pamela, Selena and me, we had some scrapes and bruises. Everyone else checked out. Mona let us know that she could handle the wounded. They wouldn't be doing jumping jacks for a week or two, but a hospital was not required. On the downside, no one believed that eighteen killers dressed as cops randomly rolled up on our transit point by accident. The only people who knew about our change in travel plans had been the Black Hand. We'd lied to the US.We broke into an abandoned factory to stash the vehicles and make our next plan. Selena was coldly furious. Not only did she come to the same conclusion we had, the Black Hand had set us up to be murdered, we weren't letting her call in. Wiesława and Charlotte kept their guns pointed at her, so low was our level of trust.Chaz was pretty much of the opinion that Selena should be coerced to provide us with the names and locations of the Black Hand involved so that we could do our own 'fact finding tour'. Oddly, none of the Americans asked to be pulled out. Vincent and Riki wanted to let the US Embassy know what had happened, yet were willing to wait until we were secure somewhere first.Rachel was on board with Chaz's idea, with the addendum that they kill every Black Hand they could get their hands on before fleeing the city. They had tried to kill ME after all. I was touched. It was Pamela who put things in perspective.1) The attackers were not Black Hand, they were mercenaries and that pointed a bloody finger at the Condottieri.2) Selena wasn't a fanatic and her life had been in as much danger as anyone else's. She wasn't part of our ambush. Her buddies had tossed her under the bus.3) It would have been far easier to catch us in that convoy they'd tried to stick us with. Caught in pre-planned crossfires and without our heavier weapons, we would have all died.4) Having failed to deliver us to the pre-planned ambush site, the Condottieri had to rush to our metro stop because, the safe house they had prepared for us wouldn't have worked. We had the numbers to allow us take total charge of our security once we were in place. No, gauging our numbers, this traitor had sent the mercs into a straight-up fight they'd just lost.

DARLING DOWNS RADIO CLUB our website at ddrci.org.au, and the WICEN info is on brisbanewicen.org.au. If you can't find what you're looking for, use the club website contact page to get in touch. And membership is half-price right now, so what better time to renew or become a member for the first time. Until next week, 73s from John, VK4JPM for the DDRCi. Redcliffe & District Radio Club VK4RC. REDFEST 25 "Adventures on HF" will be held on the 12th April 2025. Gates open at 9:00AM. Our new venue will be The Deception Bay North State School, Old Bay Road, Deception Bay. Go to: redclifferadioclub.org.au/redfest to order your tickets.Bye for now and 73's from The Redcliffe & Districts Radio Club VK4RC. Thank you and 73's Robert Thomson VK4TFN WICEN News for Sunday 23 February. If you're in SE Queensland and use the UHF repeaters that support WICEN comms, including VK4RZA, VK4RZB, VK4RZC and VK4RTQ, these repeaters are being reworked, improved and reconnected and are performing much better. As part of the rework, these repeaters also have been linked. VK4RZA Springbrook (Gold Coast) transmits on 431.100 MHz VK4RZB Mt Coot-tha (Brisbane) transmits on 431.200 MHz and VK4RTQ Mt Kynoch (Toowoomba) transmits on 431.025 MHz all listening with a minus 7MHz offset, and requiring a 91.5Hz CTCSS tone. From the Brisbane WICEN Group comes news of the Southbrook horse endurance ride runs on 8/9th March 2025, and the event is run by TEHRA (Toowoomba Endurance Heritage Riders Association) Southbrook Cricket Club is the venue for the ride. Hello, I'm Geoff Emery, VK4ZPP, and I've been thinking. The apocryphal saying that stalks the internet, “May you live in interesting times” certainly seems to be the situation for us now. We amateurs often point the finger at ourselves for not being good communicators in that we can get messages stacked and waiting when it comes to our pursuit. Overseas we see the efforts of a new government flailing and stumbling to rapidly achieve promises made in election campaigns. For us who are outside the USA, it is an amazing spectacle and at times a frightening one to watch the reports and analyses of the actions befalling Uncle Sam. Whilst we think of sovereign countries as governing for the good of their own people, when one nation achieves superiority in many spheres of activity and interacts with other nations through treaties and international law we can have many dilemmas facing us when the 1000-pound gorilla in the room no longer accepts the benefits of consistent behaviours. We can take heart that as our country moves towards an impending election we will have a consistency of behaviour and conduct established by our constitution and law. We radio amateurs will still be able to operate and know that our ACMA will still operate in familiar ways. Barring war or similar cataclysm we will not be taken off the airwaves. Whilst this country does have certain media outlets with stated political affiliations or biases, we are still able with relative ease to get news reports which provide clarity to happenings here at home and overseas. We have seen, over many years, divisions occur within the structure of national amateur radio bodies from Europe to North American countries. At times hams seem to take themselves very seriously and find splitting national bodies a better solution than struggling to repair apparent failings. Recent history has demonstrated this here, too. We have our election within the WIA running and we are facing a Federal parliamentary election before tax return time. We are fortunate that the systems which establish the rules for the elections we can expect things to continue without the heartache and angst we are seeing festering in our Pacific neighbour. It has been the policy of amateur radio from its inception in this country that it should be free of partisan politics. I'm Geoff Emery VK4ZPP and that's what I think….how about you?

Another glorious chance to secure 6th place, if only for a few days, gone in a game that started well enough and would have seen us out of sight were it not for two fine saves from the Swans keeper. That being said the visitors had two goal chances themselves which better sides would have seen punish our defensive openness. We huffed & puffed after Swansea took the lead but to no avail as we went in search of an equaliser which, on balance, we probably deserved.Barring a miracle this season really is done now!DaveP, Tom Sutton and the Toveys also give their takeaways from the Radio Bristol interview with Tinnion. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

India's T20I side is looking formidable after a dominant 4-1 series win over England at home, continuing their impressive run in the shortest format of the game. Under Suryakumar Yadav's captaincy, India have established a settled line-up in T20Is. Young talents are excelling, while senior players are embracing greater responsibility. The template set by Rohit Sharma and Rahul Dravid prior to the T20 World Cup triumph has been maintained, with a few lovely updates. Abhishek Sharma and Sanju Samson have stood out as openers, showcasing fearless cricket at the top of the order. They have been brilliantly backed by captain Suryakumar and coach Gautam Gambhir. Tilak Varma has also cemented his place in the XI with consistent performances. Barring the established trio of Jasprit Bumrah, Yashasvi Jaiswal, and Kuldeep Yadav, questions arise about whether there is room for other star players to return without disrupting the current balance of the T20I side. Leading up to the 2024 T20 World Cup, the Rahul Dravid-led management reintroduced Rohit Sharma, Virat Kohli, and Ravindra Jadeja. While the trio delivered strong performances, their return impacted team continuity and limited opportunities for emerging players. Can Gautam Gambhir resist the temptation to reintegrate superstars? What will happen when Shubman Gill and Rishabh Pant become available for T20Is? Will they be considered, and how will their inclusion affect the current dynamics? In the latest episode of the Sledging Room Podcast, we also delve into the build-up to the Champions Trophy, as India and England prepare for a three-match ODI series starting on 6 February. Tune in! Produced by Garvit Srivastava Sound mixed by Rohan Bharti

The news of Texas covered today includes:Our Lone Star story of the day: Dustin Burrows and his BurrowCrat leadership team's proposed House rules try a giant fake out on voters knowing local media will ignorantly report it their way.While the Burrows' rules end minority party (Democrat) major committee chairmanships, the rules actually enhance Democrat power by making them automatically vice chairs with new powers, enough to gum up the works. Even worse, Burrows' eliminates some committees and then creates a bunch of standing “subcommittees” for which Dems can hold chairmanships of and even be a majority of.That's all bad enough but I found two spots that should show you just how badly all have been sold out by Burrows:One section of the rules mandates mask wearing in hearings if such is simply “recommended” by Washington bureaucrats! See: CHAPTER D. ORGANIZATION, POWERS, AND DUTIES OF COMMITTEES Sec. 7. A new Rule 4, Section 8A, relating to required face masks during committee meetings, shall read as follows: Rule 4, Sec. 8A. Another section requires masks on the House floor!And in a way even worse: Chapter D., Sec. 9, Rule 4, a “new rule” essentially kicks the public out of committee hearings – a longtime dream of Capitol insiders: “Rule 4, Sec. 12A. PUBLIC ACCESS TO COMMITTEE  MEETINGS. The requirement for all meetings of a committee or subcommittee to be open to other members, the press, and the public may be satisfied by video broadcasting the meeting in real time through the Internet. The video broadcast must be accessible from a link on the house's Internet website.”Our Lone Star story of the day is sponsored by Allied Compliance Services providing the best service in DOT, business and personal drug and alcohol testing since 1995.Bad news: The U.S. Supreme Court is letting the feds go ahead with the Orwellian FinCEN beneficial owners reporting.Leftist State Bar of Texas drops its case against Attorney General Paxton over 2020 election cases filed by the state. It was always nothing but a political hit.A big stack of border and illegal immigration news today too.Listen on the radio, or station stream, at 5pm Central. Click for our radio and streaming affiliates.www.PrattonTexas.com

Approved Affection.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Brandy was unlocking the door when I put a hand on her elbow and strongly turned her around. Frustration morphed into confusion and blossomed into happiness as I exacted my promised minute make-out session. Even a colossal distraction as big as the Mayor's family implosion wouldn't keep me from my Brandy-time.Big Bob 'caught' us at it. The door had been opened and the AC was exiting the front door.‘Hands above the belt-line, Mr. Samsonov,' he grumbled in a friendly manner.‘Daddy,' Brandy pouted to her Papa. ‘He's behaving himself.'‘Are you behaving yourself around my daughter?' the Sheriff quizzed me.‘Sir, I'd rather go directly to the 500 hours of community service than answer that question; Sir,' I replied. Big Bob snorted. Brandy rolled her eyes, gave me one last peck then glided past her patriarch.‘I haven't see her that happy in a long time,' Big Bob spoke softly. ‘Whatever you are doing, be a gentleman about it.'‘Ugh; I'll do my best Sheriff Carson, but it's difficult,' I groaned. Bob laughed at me and my 'agony'.‘Take care, Vlad,' he gave one final nod before closing the door. I made a quick call to Mom to update her to our change in plans. Mikhail had beaten me to the punch. She understood I had to hand-off Brandy first, no harm / no foul. She asked me to hang out at Dominque's place for a while because she knew Mr. Malik was a devious, lying rat-bastard and believed he would sweet talk his daughter into letting him back into his wife's proximity.I mulled over handing her the Malik family secret. I trusted Mom. More to the point, I trusted her to respect my decision to want that tidbit handled with care. No cops harassed me on the return trip. I had taken a circuitous route to be on the safe side. The Police Chief might be the Mayor's ally, or he might be a BBC devotee and have a Brutha solidarity moment with Chinedu too.According to their methodology, once he gave her that cock, she'd forgive every other indiscretion. True or not, I was going to try and cock-block that maneuver. I didn't have a plan when I arrived. Something immediately presented itself to me in the form of a Candy Apple Red 2014 Jaguar F Type V8 S convertible.Daddy, or Sugar-Daddy was way generous to the tune of one hundred grand; that was for damn sure. The billow red mane topping that curvaceous frame was a clear indicator the shit was going to hit the fan at the Malik household. Chine was her BBC addiction, but the Mayor was her boss and political mentor.The look she sent me was fearful over her general situation and one of only passing interest, a look I was becoming familiar with. She was yet another hot, sexy piece of filet mignon that didn't fuck White guys. Groan.‘Who are you?' she was polite enough, possibly seeking to delay the upcoming confrontation.‘I'm Vladimir Samsonov, junior Prince of Evil and I'm here to talk with your boss; she's expecting me,' dispelled her protest that the Mayor was too busy for me.‘Riley Pasternak,' she smiled. ‘I don't recognize the accent,' she added as I passed her. She let me ring the doorbell too.Statuesque and voluptuous; that is what I would call Riley. Burnished coppery hair, thick and glossy flowed in waves down to the middle of her back. Well defined brows of a slightly lighter but no less fiery color framed her oval face and enhanced her verdant eyes, pale freckled skin and flushed cheeks.The makeup she chose didn't really enhance her features which said she didn't wear it that often and the scar above her brow confirmed that she was a tomboy.She dressed to be seen, but also to move in whatever capacity needed. The push up black halter was a strong contrast to her pale skin and plumped up her already impressive cleavage.Below it she wore almost too tight hip huggers that had her lush belly just barely spilling over the waistband. Right above said waistband on the back of her hip was a tattoo that red ‘Red Wolf Bitch' for the Arkansas State Mascot. A second one was teasingly just out of sight on the front of the other hip.Drawing away just a bit from the sexy outfit were all the hippie doodles on her pants. It looked as if she'd let a five year old color on them before she put them on, the neon colors seeming to jump off the denim. She completed the ensemble with cork wedges and a tiny red purse hanging by an equally tiny red string from her shoulder.‘I'm from Alaska,' I let her know. The door flew open in seconds, revealing a tumultuous Dominque who slipped on a semi-civil mask when she saw me.‘Vlad, I thought you were going to stop by your place before coming back for your brother,' she addressed me. ‘Ms. Pasternak, get in here,' she was more abrupt with her 'underling'.I stepped aside to let Riley pass. I hadn't been invited in. Dominque took my actions into account.‘Come in Vlad. Go find your brother. I'll talk to you later,' she said.‘Well,' I began once I stepped in, ‘I think I'd be of more use sticking with you.'Dominque slammed the door behind me.‘I won't need you with me,' she corrected me.‘I'm not staying to help you,' I corrected her. ‘I'm staying to make sure Ms. Pasternak doesn't come to some misfortune.' The Mayor didn't seem pleased.‘What does he mean?' Riley looked from her Boss to me.‘Go, Vlad,' she commanded. I was a guest in her home. Barring extenuating circumstances, I was taught to behave.‘Well, nice to see you again, Ms. Pasternak,' I regarded my fellow guest. Off I went, listening for sounds of my brother and Taliyah. I was almost out of sight;‘Where have we met before?' Riley worried.‘Go, Vlad,' my hostess repeated. I kept going.‘The Cineplex two weeks ago,' I said over my shoulder. ‘The Purge: Anarchy.'‘Oh God,' she moaned. ‘V; Vlad is it; please don't leave.'I reversed course. Dominique could tell that ordering me about at this point was useless. The same instinct which had placed me between Chine and her was placing me between her and Riley.‘You fucked him,' Madame Mayor fumed. ‘Worse, you let him fuck you in a public place you; simple-minded bimbo.'‘Listen Mrs. Malik; it; I; he was insistent,' Riley back-pedaled into a wall.‘And you happened to forget he was my husband?' Dominque seethed. I had to admit she looked rather volcanic, her ass, hips and boobs trembling with repressed energy as she got ready to erupt. I maneuvered so I flanked them both, ready to interpose myself if necessary.‘How many times, Riley?' I posed the question. ‘How many times did the two of you hook up?'‘Four, five,' she reconsidered her response. Dominique looked ready to explode. She mastered herself with a great effort of will.‘What is going to happen when your Grandfather, that racist Jew Bastard, finds out you are back to banging big black bucks, Again?' she threatened. Riley blanched. ‘He threatened to disown you last time. This time, he'll do it, Princess. Then you will be nothing more than another in a long line of chunky Cocoa Puff's. No car, no apartment and damn, I'll make sure you don't have a job anymore.'‘Reggie won't; ‘ she protested desperately.‘Whore, you are only fun to be around because your fat ass is forbidden fruit. Senator Murdoch can get a dozen fresher Betties to haul his coal.' I'd go to Mom to explain the jargon flying around. ‘I know for a fact he likes them young.''Betty's' were White chicks. 'Hauling coal' meant taking black dick. Why couldn't people just say that instead of confusing everything with racial slurs? Riley's reaction showed she was playing into that fear; no fortune and no more choice selections of BBC's.‘Umm; ‘ Riley flickered her eyes my way.‘Chinedu already spilled all this secrets,' Dominique lied. She'd spilled them in her rage, but these two women lying and cheating wasn't my primary concern; taking advantage of their wickedness was. ‘He has his own reasons for keeping quiet.' Riley glanced speculatively from me to Dominique.‘Ha,' Madame Mayor snorted in derision. ‘I don't do White boys.' Oh, that deserved some hard fucking; screw the bitch. I was considering what derogatory idiocy was going to vomit forth from my mouth when Riley's phone rang. Absently she pulled it out of her purse. She paled when she saw the caller ID. Dom snatched it away then trembled.I took it out of her hands before she could make Riley eat the device.‘Both of you keep quiet,' I demanded. I answered the phone.‘Baby-cakes, let's hook up tonight,' Mr. Malik oozed his masculine charisma. ‘I feel like stepping out and I want to see you on your knees worshipping my award-winning Arkansas Black Snake, you cock-hungry slut.'He was loud enough so that both women could hear. I pointed a warning finger in Riley's face.‘Sorry, Mr. Baker, but Riley can't come to the phone right now. She's choking down my Slavic salami, but; after I finish with her and your wife, I'll send the tramp back your way; if she can still walk.'‘Wa, huh, wha, Who? Samsonov?, what did you just say?' he blathered.‘I'm kind of busy right now, Sir,' I taunted him. ‘Hold on.' I spanked Riley's flank. She gasped. ‘That was the sound of me smacking your wife's luscious, sweet and highly neglected ass. I gotta go. Your women look famished for some fucking respect and attention. I'm sure you can find a glory hole to entertain yourself at. I'll talk to you in the morning. Bye,' I signed off before he could reply.I cut off Riley's phone then pocketed it. They were both staring at me in utter shock. Dominique's full, plump lips first closed then she opened them to start laughing.‘Boy, Vlad, that was hilarious,' she chortled.‘That was a freebie, Dominique,' I grinned.‘There are two kinds of cheaters; the ones who convince themselves it will never happen to them, and the ones who believe everyone cheats. That allows them to both allow themselves to violate the essence of their relationships,' I glibly stated, ‘It also makes them want to utterly control their partners so they don't end up becoming cuckolds themselves.'‘Mr. Samsonov; ‘ Dominique studied me, ‘you continue to show me you are much more dangerous than you appear.' Taking into account my size, excellent physical shape, exhibited self-control and clear elucidation, I could only imagine I was 'dangerous' for a White guy; what a tight-ass shrew.‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mrs. Malik,' I politely responded. ‘I don't do older Black chicks; or date used-up girls who only fuck Black guys. One of the three of us has to have some standards.' They blinked; it was the whole 'da White boy thinks he can talk back to us?' bullshit.‘I'll go looking for Mikhail now. You two have fun sharing in your communal 'I've been dicked-over, bent over and forced to suck another woman's vaginal fluids off his cock' Chine-experiences. I pray neither one of you've done Ass-to-Mouth with him; that would turn my stomach. Bye,' I waved as I departed. Dominique grabbed my arm, her fingernails digging in.‘What makes you think you can insult me that way, in my own house?' she lambasted me.‘It is the truth and we both know it,' I shrugged. ‘Somebody needs to start telling the truth around here, don't you think?'‘Get your brother and get out,' she snapped.‘Done deal,' I answered. ‘Riley; ‘ The doorbell rang. From the look on everyone's faces, none of us were expecting a caller.‘Don't you move,' Dom glared at me, ‘and don't you do a damn thing,' she balefully instructed Riley. Off she stormed.‘Gayle, what are you doing here?' Dom greeted my Mom.‘I brought dinner for my boys, Dominique,' she responded snidely. ‘I expect them to be gentlemen and you to not give a damn about anyone but yourself.'‘You've got some nerve showing up on my doorstep,' Dom grumbled.‘Not really,' Mom shouldered her way inside. ‘I've gotten on with my life. I see you've done the same.'‘Bitch,' Dom sizzled yet didn't stop her.‘Kitchen?' my maternal unit asked me. She was holding a wicker picnic basket and a large paper bag in one hand and a covered pot with a pail in the other. I pointed the way. She winked.Belatedly, Dominique slammed the door and stalked after Mom.‘What would ever possess you that I'd welcome you into my house,' she spat. ‘After what you did to Leon; ‘‘Had; do you really want to rehash that right now considering neither one of us has forgotten, or forgiven a damn thing?' Mom countered.‘Leon is still sucking his puree through a straw and pissing in a colostomy bag,' Dominique simmered.‘Mom?' I questioned.‘Oh, you haven't told your boys about what you and Theo did?' Dominque taunted her. Mom wasn't perturbed in the least.‘Vlad, do you trust me?' my Mother asked me.‘Sure. You can be unfathomable and crazy, but I don't think you've ever hurtfully deceive me.'‘Boy, you had better check that naiveté,' Mayor Malik warned me.‘Vlad, the last time Theo and I spent any time under the same roof was here, in Fonteneau,' she used Kingston's old name. ‘Leon Fox, Dominique's brother, and six other Black bulls decided to brutalize me, I was barely alive when I crawled my way back to the road where Mr. Cobb found me,' she relayed in a pleasant tone.‘So you say,' Dom interrupted. ‘It was your word against them and those seven had iron-clad alibis. To you, all Black men looked alike.'‘Think what you want. I identified all seven of them. You dad and the police chief wouldn't prosecute even though I know they were heard around town bragging about it; how they'd 'taught me a lesson'.'‘Mom, what the hell is going on?' I worried.‘Your Great-Aunt wouldn't accept that the police's investigation acquitted my brother and his friends; Because it was Black officers accepting the words of seven Black men, one of them the newly-minted Mayor's son, over a scared, battered child's,' Mom gave a feral grin.‘Yeah, you racist bitch,' Dominique seethed.‘Theo believed me. Aunt Matilda and Theo both believed me and not your chick-shit police force cover-up,' Mom kept smiling though there was not mirth behind it. ‘Theo made damn sure the guilty paid.'‘He damn near beat four grown men to death,' Dom grumbled. ‘One of them was my brother.'‘Vlad, Theo took a fileting knife and a crowbar with him when he rode his bicycle out and hunted those scumbags down,' Mom explained while staring at my host. ‘He found four of them together. He put all four in the hospital.'‘He ended up in the hospital as well,' Mom added, ‘if that makes you feel better.'‘Is that why Uncle Theo ended up in military school?' I inquired.‘He got off lucky,' Dom bristled. ‘Leon; and Roscoe Sumner never left the damn hospital, Bitch.' She turned on me. ‘Rufus never did see out of his left eye again and Martin Cutler still has to walk with leg braces and a cane.'Uncle Theo and Mom; that explained a great deal about her and her twin's relationship. I knew Mom had once broken into his military school/prison to see him. I also knew now that Mom hadn't lied to me; this vendetta was with this entire sick town, not blanket racism on her part.Black individuals in this town had raped her and other Blacks had covered it up. Theo had avenged her and paid for that with five years of his freedom. Had the Kingston's Black police force simply pursued a proper course of justice, then those seven men would have gotten what the law allowed; and be out of jail by now.Maybe that would have helped Gayle Fonteneau's emotional wounds heal. That didn't happen though. That injustice explained why Mom had initially run away from Dad. She'd suffered at the hands of law enforcement and she carried that distrust and disgust with her into her first meeting with Dad.That had to be some awkward emotional gymnastics on her part.‘Oh, come on now,' Mom chortled. ‘Leon is in a nice assisted-care living facility and Roscoe is in a coma just down the hall from him.'‘What happened to Le; your brother, Mrs. Malik?' I asked.‘According to the reconstructive specialist in Austin he was hit 27 times with a crowbar, that's what happened,' she spat at my Mother. ‘Even now his face doesn't look right and he's one step above a vegetable.'‘You took Aunt Matilda's hush money,' Mom gloated. ‘You all did.'‘That doesn't mean your brother wasn't a psycho, racist bastard,' Dom shot back.‘Bullshit, Dominique. Your Daddy made the town accept Aunt Mattie's deal because she was bringing in the Arkansas State Police (ASP) to investigate Theo's defense claims and that would have fried the whole lot of you,' Mom ignored Dom's snit. Seeing my disbelief, she told me, ‘Back in 1986, the ASP had its fair share of White racists.'‘Had those seven not been guilty as sin; ‘ she glared at the Mayor, ‘maybe Theo wouldn't have gone Rambo on this burgh.'‘Enough!' I intervened. ‘This is not helping us with the problem at hand. Right now, all Mikhail and I are worried about is whether Mr. Malik is going to come home tonight pissed off, drunk off his ass, or both.'‘Why should you care?' Madame Mayor turned my way. Mom started laughing which only made the woman angrier.‘Because unlike you, me and most of this town, my boys are decent individuals who actually give a crap about strangers, regardless of their melatonin levels,' she snorted. She made eye contact with Mrs. Malik.‘Don't blame me,' Mom chuckled. ‘I would be much happier of your shiftless shit of a husband came back and beat the fuck out of you and your daughter. To me, that would be poetic justice for what your father let him get away with.'‘No happening, Mom,' I declared. ‘Mikhail and I are eighteen now so you can't make us go home. If he's really a threat; ‘‘And you can't trust the police,' Mom sneered at Dom. ‘Your police force, Dominique.'‘You are one twisted cock-whore,' Dom riposted.‘Seven young men assaulted me,' Mom snarled. ‘Three weren't around when Theo caught up with the other four. ‘Charles Baker was one of them. The other was Demetrius Quinterre. These days he is the Chief of Police.'‘Charles Baker is Chinedu Malik now?' I requested.‘Yeah,' Mom beamed hostility Mamma Malik's way. ‘The fall after 'it' happened, Charles went to Arkansas State on a football scholarship and changed his name to something more 'African'. If he thinks it made it so that Theo couldn't find him, he's sorely mistaken.'‘Where is your crazy brother anyway?'‘Which one?' Mom snorted. ‘I've got a few.'‘Theo, you crazy cunt.'‘He joined the US Army straight out of the academy. He ended up in Ranger School then the Green Beret,' Mom updated her. ‘Now he's a contract killer for God-knows who. You, the FBI and the US military all are curious about his whereabouts.'‘That's; ‘ Dominique looked at me. What can I say? I have an honest face. ‘Do you believe that?' she asked me.‘Madame Mayor, I've talked to the men from Fort Bragg who have come calling. How to put this; Uncle Theo is exceedingly eccentric; beyond what Mom is.'In a normal situation, this would be when the concerned wife asked if her husband was in danger from my lunatic uncle. Not Mrs. Malik. Hell, a martyred husband killed by a violent racist would be a big boost to her career. It would also remove any chance of her hubby blowing up the situation with Riley, thus Riley's Sugar-Daddy. I could almost see the cold, calculating wheels turning behind her eyes.‘That's hardly encouraging. Fine; Gayle, you can get out. Vlad, I'm going to make some phone calls. Why don't you see what your brother has gotten up to,' the Mayor commanded. Mom shot me a wink when Mrs. Malik pulled out her phone.‘Bring home the pot and basket when you leave,' she advised me. She took my arm and pulled me to the door.‘You have your toiletries and fresh clothes in the bag (the big, brown paper one she'd arrived with). Then, as she hugged me, she shoved something into my front, left pocket. That weekend with the Vegas hookers paid off, I recalled the crinkly sound condom wrappers make. ‘For Mikhail,' she whispered. He was being given her 'okay' to any sexual missteps that might happen if we weren't sent straight home.I imagined most teenage boys would be thrilled to have their mothers handing them some condoms and silently wishing them luck. Not me. This was some fucked-up shit Mikhail, Alexander and I had stepped into. Mom turned without further advice and went to Dad's black '2012 F-150' pick-up truck. I closed the door, then went looking for the ladies.Dominique had taken Riley into the living room. The younger woman was sitting contritely on the sofa while the Mayor quietly brow-beat whomever was on the other end of that phone conversation. I spared them a look, knew I wasn't needed, or wanted, so I went for the stairs.‘Taliyah, Mikhail, Dinner's here,' I called up. I remained at the bottom of the stairs until Mikhail showed himself.‘Was that Mom?' he calmly inquired.‘Yeah. She's gone now,' I gave a wry grin. ‘It is safe you two to come down.' A few seconds later, Taliyah appeared.‘What is it?' she was referring to dinner.‘Whatever Kamika cooked for us,' I replied. She shrugged, clearly upset with the past few minutes of her life. She still came down. She'd missed lunch unless you counted cum swallowed, then had cheerleader workouts, horse-riding and a sex-session with my brother. Mikhail was perpetually hungry as was the norm for growing boys our age and metabolisms.The remarkable thing was her reaction to Mikhail and his blasé attitude. He wasn't walking on eggshells, as Alexander would have, or being sympathetic, like me. Mikhail was being Mikhail; Taliyah's problems weren't his concern so he wasn't intruding. If she wanted some emotional input from him, she'd have to do the 'reaching out'.We doled out portions. Taliyah started with three bowls (for the host of baby-back pork ribs) and plates for the potatoes, carrots and string beans. I motioned for two more. She mentally debated my request before complying. Kamika must have packed a family of eight. There was plenty to spare.After the meal was apportioned, I took two plates and a glass of Pomegranate Juice (Taliyah poured for her Mom) and a glass of lemonade for Riley. I juggled the lot as I traipsed into the living room. The conversation stopped when I appeared. I didn't engage either with eye contact, though I could tell Dominique resented me serving dinner to her guest. I retreated with the same grace I'd exhibited entering.The two high-schoolers had attacked the ribs with gusto.‘Hmm; these are some damn fine ribs,' Taliyah waved a freshly-cleaned bone my way. ‘No wonder the men in your family are so damn huge.' Right as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she shot Mikhail a dirty look, daring him to make a snide aside about the size of his cock. Mikhail didn't take the bait.‘Give Kamika a call around noon-time. She'll add a place-setting for you at the dinner table,' he replied after vigorously sucking the meat off his fourth victim. That was the opposite of what she expected a man, a Black man, to say. She'd never had a possibly sexually suggestive chat with a White guy.‘The food's not so good I'd want to spend time with you,' she poked him.‘I'm not hot to re-experience your she-devil bitchiness either, Taliyah,' he teased her. ‘I've got to accept that Brandy's going to keep putting a sappy smile on Vlad's face and that suggests they'll crawl out of bed long enough to get some food.'‘We are never going to have sex again,' she wacked his hand with a fresh rib, leaving a saucy mark.Mikhail licked the sweet substance off while keeping eye contact with the girl. She refused to back down from his provocation. My brother responded by tenderly poking her lips with a fresh rib. She kept her mouth closed yet couldn't keep the smile from her face. She countered by presented piece of meat in front of him. Mikhail caught the offering in his teeth and shook it hungrily.Now I felt like the one who should tell them to get a room. The two began making messes of each other's faces with sloppy feedings of one another before including me in the game. It was so engrossing, we three missed Mrs. Malik coming into the kitchen and catching us at play.‘Taliyah, what, are, you, doing?' her mother clipped off each world.‘I'm keeping the White boys quiet,' the daughter thought quickly on her feet.‘Oh, that's what you call it,' Dominique's eyebrow arched. ‘It looks more like your flirting with them both.'‘What!' Taliyah squalled. ‘I hate Mikhail; Vlad's okay. He treats Brandy like she matters, not the way Darius does. He treats her like a cum dumpster.'‘I thought you wanted to be with Darius?' Dom studied her daughter intently.‘Well; I've changed my mind. His whole attitude; the 'I'm a football stud' is getting too pricey for my tastes,' she clarified. ‘Rashaan has his head so far up Darius' ass that's stopped being funny too.'‘Taliyah, if you stop dating Rashaan, you won't be popular,' mom protested.‘Listen to your mother,' Mikhail agreed. ‘Look how well hooking up with a football star worked out for her.' Waves of furious emotions radiated from mom. Taliyah's reaction was far more direct.‘You bastard!' Taliyah swore before she punched him in the upper arm. She was starting to cry.Chine may have been a raging prick to Samsonov eyes, but he was Taliyah's Daddy.‘Fuck,' he exaggerated. ‘What makes you think; ow,' he recoiled as she began to rain blows down on his upper arm and chest. Tears started to stream down her face as she pummeled my brother who took his beating like a champ.‘You are such a; a; ‘ she stammered.‘Neanderthal?' he volunteered. Two more blows were her response then her attacks lost strength and direction. Mikhail wrapped her up in his arms as she sobbed into the crux of his arm and chest.‘Feel free to hate me as much as you need to,' he held her tight. ‘I'm not that fond of you either.' He kept her close for another minute.‘I'll take her upstairs,' Mikhail told Dominique. He kept an arm around her shoulders to aid her direction and off they went. The Mayor looked my way.‘I don't know what's up with that,' I shrugged. ‘Mikhail really is a jerk most of the time. Heck, he's the biggest bastard of the three of us; the most like Mom's dark side, so I'm not sure what he's doing being nice to your daughter.'‘If he does something to her,' she threatened me. Her eyes went past me to Riley who had come to the open doorway. ‘Don't you start thinking you can be leaving,' she aimed her prodigies' way. ‘I'm not done with you.'‘Besides, he's still out there,' I meant Mr. Malik. ‘He's likely to do something irrational that both of you will regret.'‘Why should you care? You are a Fonteneau,' the Mayor grumbled in an accusatory voice.‘I'm not sure,' I shrugged. ‘I trust my Mom a lot more than I believe your version of events. From what I know of Uncle Theo, if he wasn't sure justice had been done, he'd have come back here already.'‘The fact you are choosing to revisit this tragedy now makes me wonder when I'll see him again,' I tacked on.‘Ah, could I have some more of those ribs?' Riley extended her plate. She needed to finish her veggies.‘All that pork is going straight to those fat hips and big ass, Girl,' the Mayor cruelly teased her.Riley was embarrassed. I stood up from the kitchen table, took Riley's plate, and filled it with the portions of meat Taliyah and Mikhail had left behind. That seemed to mollify her to the point she felt good enough to walk, with her plate, back to the living room.‘You shouldn't be nice to her,' the Mayor cautioned me. ‘She's just another whore for Black Cock. Another White girl freak beneath the sheets.'That the Mayor was likely one as well wasn't something I felt I should bring up at the moment. Instead of arguing, I began to clean up the kitchen, putting the leftovers in Tupperware containers, washing the plates and then the pot and food containers. All the while, Dominique watched me work.‘I thought you had domestic help,' she said condescending tone.‘A) any kind of help is something new to us boys and Dad. B) Mom insists we all pitch in and help out. That means washing cookware and plates after meals, haul fertilizer and taking away yard debris and cleaning our rooms. We have chores.'‘That defeats the purpose of having servants,' she insisted.‘That house is huge, the 'help' could use the help, chores remind us we all need to work together and it teaches us not to take people for granted,' I repeated my Mom's words from our first day in the house.‘Your clan used to be such snobs, looking down on all us Black folks.'‘However the Fonteneau acted was before our time, Madam Mayor; ‘‘Call me Dominique, or Mrs. Malik in my home, Vladimir. You are Vladimir, right?' she said.‘Yes Dominique, I'm Vlad, the middle one. Alexander is oldest, so he's the most mature, I'm the middle triplet, so I'm the best mix of Mom and Dad, and Mikhail is the youngest so he's always out to prove himself.'‘Fascinating,' she responded drolly. ‘Stay out of the way while I deal with Riley. I'll get her squared away then deal with you and your brother.' With that, she walked off to give Riley another huge piece of her mind, rage and frustration. As I was putting up the pot to dry, the doorbell rang. I heard Mamma Malik's heels click on the marble floors as she stormed over to the door.‘Demetrius, what are you doing here?' I heard he say from the door.‘I heard you were having some problem with those Samsonov boys,' he announced. ‘I'm here to make sure everything is okay.'‘You mean my worthless, cheating husband sent you over to make them leave,' she groused.‘He might have indicated they were causing you problems,' the Police Chief allowed. ‘Let me pour those Cornfeds into their car and send them home.'‘No,' Dominique's voice cracked the whip of authority. ‘He is out whoring and drinking and that means he ain't coming home tonight; end of story.'‘I'll leave Oliver with a patrol car watching your place if that is the case,' he tried to mollify her.‘On really,' she mocked him. ‘You, Chinedu and Oliver are all drinking buddies. You and your cronies aren't going to keep my husband's drunk ass from darkening my doorway. You let Chine know he's not welcome here tonight.'‘Dom, you are being unreasonable,' the cop leader cooed. I didn't have to imagine him touching her. The Kingston cops were far too touchy-feely with women.‘Don't you touch me, you poltroon,' she blasted him. I wondered if he even knew what a poltroon was. He knew it was an insult though.‘Listen up, Dominique,' his voice grew low and threatening. That was my cue.‘Madam Mayor, is everything okay?' I stepped into the hallway. Demetrius' eyes latched onto me before turning his sneer the Mayor's way.‘Why, don't he look cozy,' he accused Dominique.‘Buddy,' I wasn't going to call him an 'officer', or 'Chief', ‘Mom just enlightened me to what you and Chine did to her all those years ago. Statute of Limitations may have passed, but don't you think the Samsonov's consider justice to be done.'‘I also know that any crime involving you and a Deputy's son automatically brings in the Arkansas State Police. Cross that portal and you cease being a concerned police officer and become a home invader,' I channeled my father and all his kin going back a dozen generations.‘How about I arrest you for trespassing?' he want for his 'bracelets' while his right hand rested on the ass of his piece.‘My house, Demetrius and I've invited him and his brother in. Believe me, Dem, if you don't hot-foot it off my property then my next call Will be to the State Police reporting You for criminal trespass,' she growled at the cop.‘So, you've become an Oreo?' he mocked her. ‘I can't wait to hear what the town council has to say about that.'‘Consider they are the same crowd who invited Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges to be our Principle for the next ten months; ‘ I began my counter-mock.‘Five years,' the Mayor glowered at the Chief. ‘The school board; which you are on, Demetrius; gave that freakazoid a five year contract.'

Today is Christmas Eve, which means the Tangle team is about to step into our annual holiday and New Year break. If you are new here — as many of you are — here's what you need to know: I believe in working hard, playing hard, and pacing ourselves. I know the media business is a difficult one, so I work myself to the bone and push my team to bring their best every day, too. But I also know that many people in the news business burn out and fail, in part because of how demanding it can be. So, we take regular breaks to position ourselves to win in the long run.To that end, we'll be off from now through Friday, January 3rd. Over break, we'll share an edition with our favorite content from the year, as well as a special New Year's edition of the Sunday for paid subscribers. Barring any major breaking news, it's likely that you won't get a normal newsletter from us until Monday, January 6, 2025. After a long, exciting and grueling election season, I'm looking forward to the team coming back refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to go.I'm also going to ask all of you to take our end-of-year survey. This survey is a way for us to take your feedback constructively to improve Tangle, and also a way to check in on who exactly is reading Tangle today. To show my appreciation, and to motivate submissions and feedback, anyone that takes it will be added into a drawing for a $250 gift certificate (so long as you leave your email). We'll announce the winner on January 6.As we head into this break, I encourage you to step back as well. The news can be frustrating, stressful, and depressing. This time of year is a great time to take a brief hiatus, spend some time with family or friends, and generally try to get outside and give yourself a break. When we come back in 2025, we'll be sure to update you on everything you missed. Happy holidays,Isaac & and the Tangle teamAd-free podcasts are here!Many listeners have been asking for an ad-free version of this podcast that they could subscribe to — and we finally launched it. You can go to tanglemedia.supercast.com to sign up!The gift of Tangle.A quick reminder that you can give the gift of Tangle! We have gift subscriptions on our website that are discounted to encourage buying them for your family member, friend, or colleague (especially those who you struggle to discuss politics with!). Click here to spread the love.You can subscribe to Tangle by clicking here or drop something in our tip jar by clicking here. Our podcast is written by Isaac Saul and edited and engineered by Jon Lall. Music for the podcast was produced by Diet 75. Our newsletter is edited by Managing Editor Ari Weitzman, Will Kaback, Bailey Saul, Sean Brady, and produced in conjunction with Tangle's social media manager Magdalena Bokowa, who also created our logo. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

America faces chaos in Washington, again, with the US government just hours away from shutting down. Barring an early Christmas miracle, the proverbial lights go off at midnight tonight. Norm Ornstein, veteran political observer, joins the show to discuss.  Also on today's show: Mouaz Moustafa, Executive Director, Syrian Emergency Task Force; Charlie Warzel, Staff Writer, The Atlantic; Edward Berger, Director, "Conclave"  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

A district court in Helena temporarily blocked a pair of state agency rules that prevented transgender Montanans from updating their identification documents.

Barring a blip at the height of the pandemic and lockdowns, the latest quarterly results are the worst New Zealand's seen in more than 30 years. Political reporter Russell Palmer has more.

Chris Rose joins Baskin & Phelps to give his thoughts on who the Browns should play down the stretch, if he would start Dorian Thompson-Robinson, along with where the Browns currently sit in the NFL draft, along with Jameis Winston's play with the Browns.

Justin and Patrick keep the minor league recaps going with the Toronto Blue Jays Double-A affiliatle Fisher Cats. The guys discuss an overall disappointing season for the Cats and highlight Rainer Nunez and Trenton Wallace. Next up, Buffalo! Barring any breaking news (we know Soto is a Met) you'll see the Buffalo episode opn the weekend.

Dean touches on the 80/20 rule when decorating a home. Dean talks about a caller's situation after a remodel that went wrong with extremely wrong installments in removing of a barring wall. He dives into discussing about the 80/20 decor world. Lastly, Dean recaps and says that's eclectic is not chaos but one must get rid of the clutter. 

On today's show: 1. Charleston Morning Radio Icon Mike Edwards of "2 Girls and a Guy" Show Dies - https://holycitysinner.com/news/charleston-morning-radio-icon-mike-edwards-of-2-girls-and-a-/ 2. Barring a big change, those born in South Carolina will become a minority in the state - https://www.postandcourier.com/news/south-carolina-relocation-destination-growth-development/article_9c17caba-a2d3-11ef-8172-df510bf61ed2.html This episode's music is by Tyler Boone (tylerboonemusic.com). The episode was produced by LMC Soundsystem.

Barring a miracle, Juan Soto isn't signing with the Phillies.He has received multiple $600 million offers, according to Fair Territory's Ken Rosenthal. Soto could make a decision before the end of next week's Winter Meetings in Dallas. We said on this show last week that the Phillies had not met with Soto. We even wondered if an offer would be made. It turns out, the Phillies have not made an offer.None of this should come as a surprise. The Phillies were never considered serious suitors for Soto, despite speculation. Still, we talk about Soto's situation and what comes next for the Phillies.Shibe Vintage Sports is giving away a FREE Mitchell & Ness Phillies hoodie to The Phillies Show listeners. Visit ShibeSports.com/TPS to enter. Shop Shibe for all the Philly sports fans on your list. Visit them in Center City, Wayne, West Chester and Ardmore ... or at ShibeSports.com. Save 15% with the code: thephilliesshowGet 10 FREE meals at HelloFresh.com/FREEFT. Applied across 7 boxes, new subscribers only, varies by plan.The Phillies Show has swag! You can purchase your very own Phillies Show t-shirt by 47 Brand here!@The Phillies Show Subscribe to the show on YouTube and follow us on social media!@Foul Territory We're part of the Foul Territory Network. Follow FT and find more shows, including Fair Territory!If you like The Phillies Show, subscribe and give us a five-star review!

(3:00) Three TD loss to a 5 loss Florida team at home. Just awful.(8:00) Barring contractual catastrophe, Gus Malzahn slated to be next offensive coordinator at FSU(29:00) Gus creates good opportunities for RB and OL but QBs and WRs? Ehh....(46:00) Flag fiasco(50:00) DC vibes(55:00) Portal might actually have some dudes in it(1:00:00) Will the ACC get two teams into the CFP?Music: unwritten law - Please Come Home For Christmasvitaminenergy.com | PROMO: warchantbogo | buy one, get one free!

(3:00) Three TD loss to a 5 loss Florida team at home. Just awful.(8:00) Barring contractual catastrophe, Gus Malzahn slated to be next offensive coordinator at FSU(29:00) Gus creates good opportunities for RB and OL but QBs and WRs? Ehh....(46:00) Flag fiasco(50:00) DC vibes(55:00) Portal might actually have some dudes in it(1:00:00) Will the ACC get two teams into the CFP?Music: unwritten law - Please Come Home For Christmasvitaminenergy.com | PROMO: warchantbogo | buy one, get one free!

The IPL mega auction was a blockbuster affair over two days in Jeddah. It took the attention away from India's landmark Perth Test win, but cricket fans must have enjoyed the bidding wars.The two marquee sets of players grabbed all the limelight in the lead-up to the auction ever since the pruned list of 574 players was announced for the mega auction. As expected, a few teams splurged big money on big faces, who opted to enter the auction after successful stints with their ex-franchises. Some of them had nasty break-ups.Punjab Kings, who are not known for being smart in the auction, were led wonderfully well by newly appointed coach Ricky Ponting and their think tank in Jeddah.Royal Challengers Bengaluru faced the stick for missing out on big buys, but it seems it was a conscious choice as they resisted the temptation of spending big on Day 1. Under Andy Flower and Dinesh Karthik, RCB made smart buys throughout the two-day auction, impressing their fans. Barring the Will Jacks controversy, RCB did all right.What do you make of the teams' performances on the auction table?In the latest episode of the Sliding Room Podcast, Akshay Ramesh, Saurabh Kumar, and Kingshuk Kusari review the IPL auction.Tune in!Produced and Sound mixed by Anna Priyadarshini

1. Week 11 Takeaways -DKrom: Bills beat the Chiefs because they did what the Bucs didn't do in Week 9 -Hal: Can't keep doubting Mike Tomlin and the Steelers 2. Week 11 Honors -GOAT of the Week (DKrom: Taysom Hill, Hal: Bo Nix) -Dunce of the Week (DKrom: The Football Gods and their anti-Bengals bias, Hal: Jaguars, Browns, and Falcons organizations) 3. Barring anything unforeseen, the first overall pick in the 2025 NFL Draft is going to be either a QB (most likely Cam Ward or Shadeur Sanders) or Travis Hunter, who is arguably the only game-changing player in this class regardless of position. And as of right now, it's a pretty wide open race for that top pick. So what I want to do Hal is to hear your thoughts on whether it would make more sense for certain teams to draft a QB or Travis Hunter. -Titans -Raiders -Giants -Panthers -Browns 4. Does Hal buy or sell the chances of the Cardinals, Rams, Seahawks, and/or 49ers to win the 2024 NFC West? 5. Truth or Exaggeration -Bo Nix and Brock Bowers have squarely entered the conversation for 2024 Offensive Rookie of the Year honors -The Saints will retain Klint Kubiak as offensive coordinator, regardless of who they hire as their next head coach -2024 is the final year of Aaron Rodgers' career -Quinyon Mitchell has squarely entered the conversation for 2024 Defensive Rookie of the Year honors -For the second consecutive season, the Chiefs will NOT be the AFC's #1 playoff seed -The Atlanta Falcons will select a pass rusher in the first round of the 2025 NFL Draft...and trade up to do so if needed -Brian Daboll will be fired as head coach of the Giants after their 2024 season ends -Josh Allen has either tied or surpassed Lamar Jackson in the race for 2024 NFL MVP 6. Ravens at Chargers Preview 7. Week 12 Game Picks -Lock: (DKrom: Chiefs over Panthers, Hal: Broncos over Raiders) -Upset Special: (DKrom: Cardinals over Seahawks, Hal: Bears over Vikings) -Steelers at Browns -Lions at Colts -Titans at Texans -Patriots at Dolphins -Bucs at Giants -Cowboys at Commanders -49ers at Packers -Eagles at Rams 8. Week 12 Bold Predictions -DKrom: With another brilliantly executed drive in the final two minutes, Geno Smith and Seahawks tie the game and send it to OT. But former Seahawk DeeJay Dallas ends the game on a walk-off kickoff return TD! -Hal: Bears block 35-yard field goal to seal 24-22 win over Vikings, flipping the switch 9. Challenge Flags -DKrom: Justin Tucker and Ravens FG operation...figure out what's wrong!!!! -Hal: Rams, Seahawks, and Cardinals....somebody get hot and dethrone the 49ers!!!!!

Being known by the company you keep. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Life exists in both seconds and years. Don't ignore one for the other.” I would like to thank the phone operator and Chief of the Burnham, Illinois Police Department for answering my questions, despite their bizarre nature. (Monday Night) I should have known to not have too good a time. My karma was wacky enough as it was. It was about to get worse in a way I should have foreseen. Ain't hindsight grand? Inside of five seconds I knew how much sharing Libra and Brooke did; a lot. On the plus side, it gave me some wiggle room with Libra where sex with Brooke was concerned. On the super-plus side, Brooke was looking forward to ratcheting up our sex play. I took her to Libra's experiences with all the extra bells and whistles. In this case it meant adding a blindfold and ball-gag to the hand restraints. Brooke handed me a high level of trust unexpected at this early moment in our sexcapade. With a quick empathic insight, I pulled her ball-gag down as her orgasm erupted. She rejoiced in the sound of her rapture echoing around my bedroom. I deceived her into her next climax by whispering a promise to release her then hammering her instead. The whole specter of powerlessness tore her up inside. Best of all, even as she spasmed beneath me, I released her cuffs then pulled up her mask. Her fingernails dug into my trapezius muscles. For over a minute, she clung to me with a deep hunger to feel my heat and sweat against her body. "My turn," she rasped. I pressed my shoulders and head up so I could look into her eyes. She was waiting for this opportunity since she'd talked with Libra. Without question, she'd never been tied down before, or tied a man down and had her way with him. She'd manipulated men most of her life; that was old hat. This was primal, physical and forbidden. She was taking complete control of my person. God, I thought she'd orgasmed when she finished cuffing me to the headboard. Taunting, teasing and hot body contact followed as she put the ball-gag in. Sizzling lips sealed my fate as the blindfold was slipped in place. Having invested so much time using all my senses soaking up the hungry beast that Brooke possessed right beneath her urbane surface, losing my eyesight wasn't a major drawback. For Brooke, this had all the benefits of anonymous sex in a blacked-out room with the bonus of her having the lights on for her use alone. My bet was she had studied stuff on-line. From being sure she wasn't going to have sex with me when she first met, she had graduated to running naked across my living room for what turned out to be lemon slices. The 'fumph' of the Nerf gun made me assume Timothy shot her in the ass as she raced into my room. By the yip from Brooke, I knew Timothy's aim remained frighteningly accurate. Lemon juice and cuts don't mix, or, Brooke enjoyed watching my body jolt as said juice interacted with said 'workplace' mistakes. Was I angry? Nah. Every hiss of pain was followed by lavished kisses, licks and hair lashings. I loved her long black hair draped over my body, flicked around whisk-like and tickling my nose. Brooke was learning my keystone technique; figure out what your partner wants and give them a quick sample. Don't use any one thing too much; make it a treat and they'll appreciate the taste they get even more. When Brooke finally sated us both, it was my turn again. We talked a while. She invited me to a friend's place in the Hamptons which suggested to me the destination was more than some made-up place on TV. I promised to think about it. Brooke took that to mean she needed to work harder to convince me. I honestly had little desire to be trotted around as Brooke's boy toy. Hoping that wouldn't be the case relied a lot on faith. I wasn't sure what I would have in common with any of that crowd, which guided me back to being a stuck up snob for treating a people as a social class and not as human beings. I took out my social anxiety on Brooke. Poor girl; three holes, ten positions and I'm not sure how many times I took her from frenzied peak to frenzied peak. All I knew was when she'd passed all points of previous primeval ecstasy, I finally released her. Brooke curled into a semi-fetal ball and began burrowing into me. "Happy?" I asked as I stroked her sweat-drenched hair. She nodded happily against my chest. "Are you glad you came over?" I continued. Brooke bit me because she knew I was teasing her. "Ow," I grumbled. "I think we have a misunderstanding who is whose sex toy here." "Do I need to bite you again?" Brooke mumbled into my chest. "Point taken," I conceded. Brooke snuggled in even tighter. We wrestled out of bed, stumbled into the shower and took some time off with Timothy. He looked at us and smirked. "Cáel is going to be my boyfriend," Brooke tossed out there. Huh? "What in God's green earth makes you want to do that?" Timothy chuckled. "He's been there when I needed him. Cáel is a real man and it has taken me having a really tough spill to realize that it doesn't matter which alumni your Daddy belongs to, but what you put on the line for your friends that really matters," Brooke enlightened us both. "Seriously Dude," Timothy looked at me with pity. "Cut down on the awesome dicking until somehow polygamy becomes legal," he added, but then, "Brooke, you know he's seeing about a dozen different ladies, right?" "Cáel is looking for a serious relationship," Brooke insisted. Timothy chortled because he knew the likelihood of me settling down was right up there with us sharing a White Christmas in the Bahamas. "Let's go back to bed, Babe," I redirected things to safer waters. "It is your turn to be on top." Brooke, wearing one of my fresh t-shirts and nothing else, hopped off the sofa and let me lead her back to the bedroom for another round of 'not thinking about any other part of my screwed up life except the beautiful woman with me right now' sex. Twenty minutes later, Brooke had encased me in her wanton elixirs, was gyrating her hips as she stroked me inside her snatch while keeping me bound, blind and muffled. My phone rang. "Should I get that?" Brooke teased me. She moved enough to seize my cellular device. "The number is unlisted," she mused. "Who could it be?" I gave a muffled response. She removed the ball-gag enough for me to speak. "Work," I repeated. "It might be work. I'm on-call 24/7." "Damn," Brooke undoubtedly pouted (still blindfolded). She answered the call then placed the phone to my ear. "Cáel, a Security Detail detachment is on their way to your quarters as we speak. You will recognized the code they will use," Katrina's icy calm voice informed me. "Katrina, what is wrong?" I inquired. Normally, I wouldn't get an answer. Katrina's tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "There has been an incident at your Father's home in Chicago. We do not have clear intelligence at this time. I may have more when you get in," she related. "Understood," I replied. My passionate storm abated and I felt empty inside. Dad. "Cáel?" Brooke sounded worried. "We need to get dressed," I murmured. I had to let Timothy know something was truly wrong. I needed to get Brooke home safely. I; I needed to know more than I did right then. Brooke uncuffed me quickly. I barely had my boxers on when there was a light series of raps on the door. I sprang up, opened my bedroom door, surprising Odette. She must have come back to work a few minutes earlier and was unwinding with some low-volume TV and some sofa time. Timothy was asleep already. "Odette, go back to Timothy's room and warn him something bad may have happened. Go!" I warned. Odette scampered back. Brooke was at my back, trying to move into the main room. "Brooke, stay here. If something unusual happens, hide in the bedroom and don't come out until the police get here. Do you understand?" I met her confusion with an iron stare. She nodded. There was another, more insistent, rapping at my apartment door. I crept up to the portal and gave a counter-knock. "Crab Fisher-woman," a female voice said from the other side. "My Father's Sister," I responded. It was an imperfect code, but effective given the circumstances. I double checked through the spy hole, unlocked the door and let three SD Amazons inside. How bad was it? I doubted these ladies would know more than I did. In Hittite, she said; "Ishara," the leader said, "we have orders to escort you to Havenstone immediately." They weren't blindly expecting me to follow instructions. They had a directive they were following to the best of their ability. In Hittite, she said; “ Will a team be watching my domicile?" I asked. The leader nodded. "We need to take a female I have been with tonight to her dwelling before going on to Havenstone." The SD team leader nodded again. There was no condescension, or argument. They were following orders as if it was my right to issue them. That was how bad things were. Time to get back to English. "Brooke, finish getting dressed. I'm taking you home," I called out. Quite frankly, along with my desire to see Brooke back home safely was my instinct to not split up my guardians. Better a longer trip than two smaller, more vulnerable groups. I was in the process of getting dressed in the living room when Timothy and Odette came out. "Bro?" Timothy asked. "My Father's home was attacked. I have no other details right now," I explained with a sinking feeling in my heart. Timothy read my soul, came up and engulfed me in his mighty arms. Odette added herself to the heart-felt love-pile. "Do you want me to take Odette and head back to Queens for a while?" Timothy asked. He sensed we had limited time. "They," and by 'they' he knew I meant Havenstone, "will have a team watching this place. There are not enough resources to go back and forth to work. I wish I could tell what would keep you safe, but I don't know anymore." "We'll stay put," Timothy declared. Odette nodded. "We'll be here for you when you get back. If any of these psycho-broads want to stop by from time to time, I won't say no." I shot a look to the security team leader and she gave a curt 'okay'. "You'll need an overnight bag!" Odette squeaked. Off she went. Brooke finished getting dressed and came to my side. To your average Lothario, what she did might seem odd. To me, it was the normal refrain; Brooke shoved her panties into my jean's pocket. That was a not so subtle 'Call Me' for when I got back. "Three minutes, Ish; Cáel," the leader updated me. My amateur guess was this was the team from across the street. They had back-up vehicles and personnel streaking down from Havenstone to provide extra security for my move. "Velma," she gave me her name. A quick description was in order. The three Amazons all had Bluetooth devices, shooting glasses and steel-gray long coats that had to be uncomfortable in this upper seventies evening heat. Underneath, they had on light ballistic body armor on their torsos, arms, and legs. Even their dull grey, all-terrain boots looked armored. They had a hip holstered sidearm, most likely a back-up pistol at the small of their backs and a deadly blade, or three. Their main deterrence was their H and K UMP 40 caliber; my second favorite Amazon killing device. Timothy snuck off to get my toiletries, returning around the same time Odette trundled out with an overnight (or three) bag. There was a final round of hugs then Velma indicated it was time to leave. The fourth member of the team was stationed at the top of the third floor stairs. That gave her a good view of my hallway as well as the passage going up and down. Two SD's to the front, Velma and the fourth watching our backs and Brooke caught between giddy and freaking terrified. Things got even more exciting when we hit the bottom of the stairs. Two more ladies were waiting. They put a trench coat on Brooke and she nearly collapsed. The freed up Amazon took my bag while the second put a trench coat on me. I grunted as well. This bitch had to weigh 25 kg. That was some serious ballistic and blast protection. The closest newcomer began attaching my pistol with hip holster on my side while Brooke was 'buttoned up'. I was slipped a few spare clips then was buttoned up as well. "I'm not sure I can walk in this thing," Brooke gave me a weak smile. "Don't worry," I smiled, "I'll carry you." I slipped my arm around Brooke's waist and, on Velma's signal, we rushed out to the middle of three Mercedes Armored GL550s. The doors had barely shut before we were racing away from my favorite home. I walked Brooke up to her apartment, we hugged, kissed and she insisted I go to the Hamptons with her this weekend. I left with that promise unanswered. I didn't ask the Security Detail to do anything else outrageous and they didn't give me any crap about Brooke. Their vigilance didn't end at Havenstone either. No; they formed a tight knot of outward hostility until we marched into Katrina's office. Even then, they spread out over the Executive Services offices as an extended perimeter. Katrina's office was another step up on the unsettling meter. It was Katrina, Saint Marie, Buffy, Helena, and a woman I didn't know yet seemed to belong. "Excuse me?" Saint Marie shot a hostile look my way; actually right behind me. "Don't mind me," Pamela snorted. She was in the process of sneaking into the room. "I'm here for moral support," she concluded then took a seat. "Cáel?" Katrina queried, as if I could somehow exile Pamela from the room. "What's going on?" I began the meeting instead. "Your Father is dead," Katrina reported. If someone ever asked me what it felt like to have an arm cut off, I could truthfully answer them 'Yes'. Dad. "From what we have been able to gather from the video and audio gear the four Amazon Security Detail team assigned to watch over him transmitted, the team was setting up a perimeter when three vehicles with ten men stopped on the juncture of Janus and Kerr streets and approached the house. The team leader made formal recognition and was attacked," Katrina told me. "Are they okay?" I mumbled. I didn't want to know how my Dad died. Had he been in pain? Which side had killed him? Would knowing make a damn bit of difference? "Three of the four members were killed," Saint Marie interjected. "The team commander was killed instantly. The second died defending that corner of your Father's domicile. The third member was killed attempting to rescue your Father. The surviving member stopped the enemy from escaping with your Father's body, but was too badly injured to extricate herself and is now in police custody." "What are we going to do about this?" I inquired. Pamela was a lying bitch. She'd lied to Brianna because the truth would have gotten me and Dad killed. Dad had still died, but Pamela had kept me alive. "There is nothing we can do," the stranger spoke up. "Troika of House Šauška." "You are joking, right?" I stared at her. "He was a male, not of;” Troika began to state. "You do know your Amazon law, correct?" I countered. She gave a curt tilt of the head. "Recount the means of succession to the Head of a House then please explain to the room how my Father, the descendant of Vranus, fits into all that." Cha-ching! "Oh, by the Seven Goddesses!" Saint Marie jumped up. "They murdered the Head of House Ishara!" Katrina was already back on top; ahead of the game. "But what does that make him?" Troika pointed at me. "It confirms him as the Head of House Ishara. We can sugar-coat it and say Cáel, being the only 'active' member of Havenstone 'represented' the Head of House Ishara. By our traditions though, Ferko Nyilas was the lawful head of a 'First' House. Certainly four days were not enough time to settle the manner in an acceptable way," Katrina said. "At the very least, House Ishara would have been given 28 days to resolve any matters of succession internally," Katrina pointed out. "There was no deception. Cáel worked for Havenstone, so was our active member. The existence of his Father was known. It is in his basic file. It was highly unlikely that ANY House wanted to bring another male into the mix so the matter of his ascension was left unquestioned." "This is Casus Belli," Troika stood up and declared in a firm voice. "I will inform Hayden. We must know the perpetrators of this act, Katrina. I will prepare to relate this breach of the Protocols to the other Signatories." "To make sure I have this straight, I can defend any member of my family, no matter who they are, without violating the Protocols?" I questioned. "Can I kill them?" "That is correct," Troika appeared confused. "Other Signatories cannot harm, or detain your family in any way." I gave a bitter, hollow laugh. Dad; Dad wouldn't have understood, but Mom would have, no doubt. "Troika; hell, everyone but Pamela and Katrina, I am Cáel Nyilas, grandson of The Cáel O'Shea and those people who murdered my Dad very well may have been my family," I felt like crying. That was good because I was crying. I had talked to Dad early Monday morning. I had been so nervous about not leaving any trace of Mom behind that I couldn't recall if I said 'I love you' to him. I'd never get the chance to make up for that oversight. As I began to take in the faces around me, I realized Ishara had gifted me with a respite. No one else knew who Cáel O'Shea was; yet. "Troika," I started out. I could tell she was still having difficulty with the 'Man as someone worthy of stating an opinion' moment. "When the Council decides that the Illuminati have breached the Protocols, do I have a deciding vote on what we do; since Dad was my family?" "No," Troika clarified, "and what makes you think it was the Illuminati?" Pamela laughed at her. "Because I killed Cáel's Grandfather when that man was head of the Illuminati; slit his throat and rendered him incapable of resuscitation. The rest of that twisted clan have only now discovered that there is a successor, genetically, to the Old Man and you are looking at him," Pamela related in an amused tone. "Perhaps; just perhaps; they were interested in what happened to Cáel's Mother and the man she mated with to produce Cáel; who also happened to be the Head of House Ishara and now leaves this man (me) as the last of his kind; coming and going," Pamela finished, "for both the Amazons and the O'Shea family/the Illuminati." Troika was having problems fitting all the puzzle pieces. Saint Marie cut to the heart of the matter because she listens to me. "If you go to war against the O'Shea's you are being forced to fight your own family," the Golden Mare stared at me in shock. "Let me get this straight," Troika stood up, waving for silence. "When the O'Shea's killed Ferko Nyilas, they murdered the Head of a First House. They also murdered a member of their own family by way of marriage." She seemed totally flummoxed. Everyone agreed about how screwed up everything was. Breach? No Breach? "Welcome to life working with Cáel Nyilas," Katrina declared. There was a pause. "I'll let the professionals figure out the finer points of diplomacy. I have to go," I said. "Were do you think you are going?" Buffy popped up. Until this moment, she'd had no role in affairs. My safety though; "I am going home to bury my Father, Buffy," I announced. This was not a discussion. "Shouldn't we take his body to the cliffs?" Troika suggested. "My Father will face the Afterlife with my Mother at his side. It was his wish and I'm not going to start dictating to my Ancestors now," I sighed. I was trying to make light of my pain. By the looks on their faces, I was failing. I had barely exited the office, Buffy, Helena and Pamela in tow. The security team was closing in and my phone rang. "Cáel Nyilas," I answered sadly. "Mr. Nyilas, this is Investigator Brewster of the Burnham Police Department. I need a few moments of your time," a man's voice requested. I hesitated. I looked at my watch. "Yes; Dad?" I finally spoke. "Mr. Nyilas, your father seems to have been murdered late this evening in a bungled attempted burglary," he lied. It was a good lie. If he really believed a bungled robbery consisted of two heavily armed groups shooting a small residential home to pieces he was; nah, he was lying. "I'm on the next flight to Chicago," was the response I chose. I had so many 'loser' replies to choose from. "That would be helpful, Mr. Nyilas," he told me. "Do you know when I can expect you?" "Ah; I have no idea when the next plane from New York to Chicago is, but if I can buy a ticket on it, I'm there," I countered. Admittedly, me having a plane ticket for home would have been damn suspicious. "One last thing, Mr. Nyilas, do you have any idea why someone would want to murder your father? Anything you could tell us could be of great assistance," he pressed. "Yes, I have a clue who murdered my Father and I'll point you to the dead bodies when I'm done," I snapped; quite literally and mentally snapped. Pause. "Mr. Nyilas, I understand you are upset, but do not do anything rash. Now, could your father have been murdered for anything you might have done, or are doing?" Det. Brewster kept is game face on. "We'll have this chat when I get to Chicago. Until then, take care," I said before hanging up. "Smooth," Pamela gently chastised me. "I actually liked him going all 'Mafia Don' on that cop," Buffy countered. "I'll arrange for Havenstone to get us transportation to Chicago," Helena added. "No," I countermanded her. "You two stay here and finish up business. Join me late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning." By the looks Buffy and Helena gave me they were surprised; and proud. I was keeping to my 'Runner' induction time table. My family would not be diminished by this tragedy. It would grow. Come Wednesday morning, we would add twenty new voices to Ishara's war cry. "I'll take the first commercial flight available," I continued. "We cannot protect you on a civilian aircraft, Ishara," Velma warned me. "They; the authorities are expecting me to show up at O'Hare, so I'm showing up at O'Hare, like a normal person," I reminded her. "I'll also need to know at what hospital they are keeping our sister." Our sister; the sole surviving Amazon who nearly gave her life for Dad. The SD picked up on that immediately. Another leap had been made. I wasn't a masculine monster, raging against a female warrior who had failed. By the tone of my voice, they knew I was in grief yet not overcome by it. She was the last member of the Host to see my Father alive and she might hold the closure I needed. "It will be done," Velma decided. "We will have your team meet you at O'Hare." "My team?" I asked. "Rachel; her team," Velma clarified. That was enough good for me. "Oh, and get Pamela a ticket as well. I'd hate to have her mug another passenger and take theirs," I sighed. Pamela patted me on the back; an 'atta boy'. (Monday Noon) (The hospital) That was not the first time I wondered about how fatal Pamela had been in her prime. In fact, I wasn't sure that post-60 wasn't her best time yet. The only mistake the police officer guarding the Amazon's hospital room made was to sit in a chair. Pamela had long ago mastered the peon-craft that Rosetta had started to teach me. The policeman looked up, stared right through her then looked the other way. His gaze never swept back in my direction. She jabbed him quickly underneath both arms, paralyzing them for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Hers hand clamped over his eyes and on his throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain before his hands could recover. He appeared to the outside world to have taken a nap. According to Pamela, we had roughly three minutes before he came around. Pamela kept walking down the hall as if nothing happened. I came ten steps behind, guarded by a gun-less Rachel as I entered the Intensive Care Unit. A few of the staff looked our way, but no one impeded our progress. According to the Duty Nurse, the Amazon had exited surgery barely an hour ago. Her eyes opened to slits as I approached her beside. "We stand before the Eye of the World," I whispered. That meant surveillance. "I cannot tell you what is in my heart. My name is Cáel Nyilas. Does that name mean anything to you?" Her hand flopped. I put two fingers into her feeble gasp. One squeeze; yes. "I am grateful for your prowess and I share in your sorrow for those who will no longer fight in this life. Please heal and grow strong for this is the start, not the finish," I completed. She squeezed my fingers once more. I stepped aside, letting Rachel take my place. They didn't exchange words but communicated volumes. We slipped out of the room while the guard was still groggy. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. That proved to be pre-sentient when a group of people with the propensity to flash IDs caught up to me at the ground floor. Had the backdrop of this fiasco not been the death of my Father, I might have enjoyed the twitching/counter-twitching going on between Rachel, who desperately wanted any one of her guns, and the cops who were picking up on that desire. "Mr. Nyilas, I am;” and the introductions came pouring in. I had Theodora Chumwell and Brock Miklos, Special Agents of the FBI, John Rios, Special Agent with the ATF, Investigator Horace Brewster from the Burnham PD and Homicide Detective Lisa Capella from the Chicago PD. "We would like to talk with you," Theodora took charge. "Can I ask a question first?" I raised my hand. That appeared to set them off their game plan. "Of course," Theodora allowed. "Okay; FBI, ATF, a homicide detective from Chicago and the only law enforcement official who has any business being here," I finished with Brewster. "I may not be a Rhodes Scholar, but this seems a bit extreme for the burglary/murder of a long-time employee of Illinois Power and Light. Does anyone care to fill me on what the hell is going on?" I looked over the group. "Oh, and thank you Investigator Brewster for your call. I know I didn't take the news well." "Was that the part where you said you would point to the dead bodies?" Theodora took charge. "Yes, I think that was the gaff I was referring to," I agreed. "Why are you here, Mr. Nyilas?" Lisa Capella jumped in. She had decided to not go along with the FBI playbook. "I came to see the woman found alive in my family home," I replied smoothly. "She is probably still in surgery," Lisa gave a twist of the lips; sex. "Oh, she got out an hour ago," I enlightened them. "Let's take this conversation to FBI Headquarters," Theodora 'suggested'; you know, in the way that really wasn't a suggestion. "Have you gone to see that woman?" Lisa wouldn't let up; good for her. It was upsetting Theodora and I'd already decided that Brewster was my go-to guy on this investigation. "Yes," I responded to Lisa. "Isn't she under police protection?" Lisa and Theodora blurted out together. "There was a policeman at her door," I shrugged. "We went in and I talked to her." "What did she say?" Theodora brushed Lisa aside. "Nothing. She had one of those tubes down her throat. Whatever I said; well, I was emotional," I evaded. "She was barely conscious." Lisa was urgently contacting her guy who was supposed to be watching the only person in custody they had. He claimed to have 'blacked out'. He couldn't remember anyone coming in to see the woman and swore he hadn't been unconscious for any length of time. He went in, checked up on the Amazon and she was fine; for someone who had been shot six times. "We should go to the FBI offices," Theodora repeated. "I'm going home," I sighed sadly. "I want to go home." "It is still an active crime scene," John told me. "There won't be any civilian access for some time." Translation: until they decided to give me the carrot instead of the stick. "Please, come with us," FBI Special Agent Brock added his weight. "No. I'm going with Burnham PD," I countered. "You can find me there." "That's not how it works," Theodora upped her authority meter. Lisa had fallen back, trying to take in the bigger picture. Brewster was clearly trying to recall if he had Any history with me, or my Dad, that would make me trust him over the others. "I may be a liberal arts major from northern New England, but I know how a larynx works," I regarded Theodora. "Unless I choose to make a sound, it does nothing. Nothing is about to be all we have left to do and say." "Don't you want to help solve your Father's murder?" Brock tried to sound both sympathetic and threatening at the same time. I was suddenly bombarded with the taste of Lime Sherbet and Jalapenos Ice Cream. "Really? Fine; I'm going to hang out with the only person in this room I know is working on my Father's murder, not on their career," I reposed. "We are all trying to;” Lisa got out. "You maybe," I gave Lisa that much. "My Father made around $70,000 a year after twenty-six years for Illinois P and L. He had almost paid off the colossal debt built up by my Mother's illness and my college expenses." "As far as I know, he took out one loan his entire life; from a bank; and he paid it off," I continued. "He was a lapsed Catholic, a member of the IBEW; Local 9, and he jogged. He barely used e-mail and had no close friends I am aware of. The only woman he loved was my Mother and he mourned her to the day he died." "What about your activity?" Theodora inquired. We weren't running off to her playground; yet. Handcuffing a grieving son would look bad and, by my attitude, wouldn't make me talkative in the least. "I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping with every woman I meet," I began. "So that's over 200 erotic encounters. I get annoyed with people throwing their weight around," I continued, "which is why you and I are getting off on the wrong foot, Special Agent Theodora Chumwell. I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments, getting paid an insane amount to fetch laundry and keep secrets. Good enough?" "No, it is not;” Theodora simmered. "How did you know about the existence of the woman upstairs and how did you know to come here?" Lisa interrupted. "I grew up in that house, know the neighbors and know this is the closest EMS center to home," I lied convincingly. "Who are you?" Brewster decided that I wasn't exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn't speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction. "Rachel Louis," Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow; not Rachel. "You are Rachel Louis, aren't you?" "Yes, she is," I intervened. "Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist." There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn't with 'misanthropic'. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist' that had them stumped. "Rachel is an unsociable man-hater," I explained. "Standing at my side in this hospital is ten kinds of Hell for her." "What kind of piece do you normal carry?" Rios asked her. Unsocial didn't mean stupid. "I use a Glock-22 and Rachel carries a STI Perfect 10," I answered. "We have been experiencing quite a gopher problem around the office." I could have done better; I should have done better. I was just too tired inside to create an inventive lie. "Do have gun licenses for those weapons?" Mr. ATF kept prodding at our cover story. "It seems Ms. Louis; is it Ms. Ms. Louis?" Brewster continued. I flashed Rachel a look which she interpreted correctly. "Yes, my name is Ms. Rachel Louis," Rachel replied. To me, "I find this distraction to be annoying. We should go." "It would seem Ms. Louis has all kinds of;” Brewster got out before Rachel snatched the wallet from his grip with the speed of a Peregrine Falcon. Brewster had this stunned look familiar to crows, doves and starlings the world over as one of their kin passed into the next life in a flash. A combination of 'No you didn't!' with 'what the flock?' "Ah;” Brewster got out. "On that note, I think we will be going," I shrugged. To Rachel, "You do not get out enough." "Can I see your wallet again?" Brewster was still confused by Rachel's rudeness. He was a cop for the love of God. People not wanting to go to jail do not snatch things from a cop's hands. "I gave you my wallet. I am not to blame if you used its time in your possession unwisely," Rachel counterattacked. "Unless there is a legal technicality, we shall be leaving. If there is a legal issue, here," she produced a business card with a flourish, "is the contact information for our legal department." Theodora took the card gingerly then read it. "Havenstone again," she mused. "Are you sure this is the path you wish to take, Mr. Nyilas?" "Are you insane?" I trembled with emotion. "I want to be back in New York, working my queue and thinking about what my date and I will be doing tonight. I want my Dad to be alive. I don't want to be thinking that the last time we talked I forgot to tell him I loved him." "Path, you Idiot!" I screamed at Theodora. Screw it, I was crying again. "Not a damn thing any of you can do will bring my Dad back to me; so fuck off!" In a strange way, that was what they had been looking for. Not my wounded soul, but my rage and pain toward a World suddenly found to be cruel and pointless. Behind my crumbling façade was another worry. Outside in the parking lot were three Amazons with weapons ready to rush to my aid. It wasn't that the Host was rash, or reckless, by nature. I was one of the fifty-six most important people in their society. Three other SD members had died in the defense of House Ishara already and they were damn sure those women would not have died in vain. I wasn't leaving in federal custody willingly and if I walked out in restraints, I wasn't sure if they would decide offing some law enforcement agents and staging my kidnapping was the best course of action. Remember, I wanted to bury my Father. They wanted to keep me alive. If those two goals collided, they would apologize after the fact. "Mr. Nyilas, I really believe we should;” Theodora got out then I brushed past her. It was a delicate moment and the chemistry between Rachel and I wasn't lost on most of them. She was a bodyguard yet my servant too. It was professional tribalism; two words that don't normally get along. Rios picked up on the other undercurrent. He recoiled from Rachel, retreating to buy space when/if Rachel attacked. Unlike the rest, he sensed that aggression by law enforcement would be met with lethal force. The Amazon didn't care about the badge and the legions of fellow officers backing it up. She was fearless. Things weren't over yet. "Mr. Nyilas, where are you going next?" Detective Lisa came after us. "I; I don't know," I muttered. "Where is my Father's body? I know he wanted to be cremated and buried beside Mom; I guess." Brewster came hurrying along. "He is at the Medical Examiner's Office," Lisa informed me. "Come with me." "Why don't you give me the address?" I sighed. "Do you and your buddy know your way around Chicago, Hometown Boy?" Lisa kept it up. She was hitting on me and lining me up at the same time. "How about we cut to the chase?" I looked at her with tear-soaked eyes. "We'll take my cars; cars with an 's'," I offered. "I am a hometown boy. I've never had a reason to locate the Medical Examiner before. Since I have a boatload of angry women with guns who will not fit into your sedan and leaving them behind isn't an option, mine is the only means of travel that makes sense." Low and behold, the two cops looked at each other then followed Rachel and I to our little caravan. We were too close for the officers to have missed Rachel snapping off some quick, coded instructions to her team; most likely to hide the seriously illegal firearms. To say the Amazons were not pleased with my decisions spoke volumes to their concern for me and lack of police experience. Pamela, who had beaten us back to the cars, seemed privately entertained as always. Rachel was reluctantly sitting up front. Lisa, Brewster and I were in the second row and Pamela sat in back. Not only did the two not get a good look at Pamela, she was perfectly placed to do all kinds of mischief unseen. "So the woman upstairs works with you?" Lisa asked as we pulled out. "Where to?" Tiger Lily (I still wasn't used to that name) requested of our Police 'buddies'. Lisa popped off the address. It was 'I'll scratch your back, you'll scratch mine'. Tiger Lily entered the data into the onboard computer and off we went. "No. She does not work for me, or my boss, directly. She was at my Father's on my behalf though I was unaware of it," I related. "Are you going to tell us what the hell happened?" Brewster prodded. "That I don't know. I am not personally aware of anyone who would want to kill my Father, or me," I answered. "Anyone who would want to get at me would come at me, not Dad," I continued. "I don't live in a fortress. It is a hardly spacious apartment near the East River. I share the place with my roommate, Timothy Denver, and a; companion by the name of Odette Sievert." "Companion? Is she; a working girl?" Lisa went searching. "No, I use the term companion to indicate she's too nice a girl for me. She's sweet, conscientious and giving. My only wish for Odette is that she finds a guy who can appreciate her a hell of a lot more than I do," I explained. "Timothy is my gay, body-building tattoo artist best friend. I've gotten the feeling he's busted some heads in his time. Hardly anything noteworthy." "Mr. Nyilas, have you ever considered that you live a very messy life?" Brewster pondered. "One does not 'consider' what one knows to be true. One knows it to be true and moves on," I grumbled. "Yes, I know I live a screwed up life." "What about your friends here?" Lisa indicated the other three women in the vehicle. This elicited another groan from me. "Investigator Brewster; Horace and Detective Capella; Lisa, please call me Cáel. This is the point I accept that I am exhausted and not in any shape to make good decisions. I'll plead the Fifth," I confessed. "We already know you were in New York when your father was murdered, Mister; Cáel," Brewster stated. "Everyone we've talked to says you and your father were very close. Barring some expensive Life Insurance policy being taken out on him, we have no reason to suspect you had a direct hand in his death. Not being a suspect, that implies you have no Fifth Amendment, or Miranda Rights to hide behind; just so we are clear," Brewster schooled me. "I can make this game of footsy easy on all of you," Pamela whispered. The officers jolted in their seats. "Cáel cannot talk to you for the very reason the Fifth Amendment exists." "You are not like the rest of this menagerie," Lisa noted. "Nah, I kill people for a living. The rest of the group has some code of conduct that keeps you two alive," Pamela smiled. Those two didn't know what to make of Pamela's statement because it was so sincere yet incredible. "If Cáel tells you anything else he will be admitting to his involvement in a criminal conspiracy. Said conspiracy is why Ferko Nyilas is dead, but Cáel had nothing to do with it," Pamela enlightened them. Fact digestion time for the two law dogs. Brewster recovered faster. "But why was Ferko Nyilas murdered?" he asked. "The men didn't come to kill him," Pamela kept talking about the tea and crumpets. "They probably showed up to escort him to a place where some far more important scumbags could talk with him." "The all-girl squad was there and Ferko was caught in the crossfire," Lisa mumbled. "Why was there a firefight if his life was in danger and both sides wanted him alive?" "Stupidity," Pamela replied. "Give any group of people guns and then surprise them, stupid shit happens; I apologize Cáel." "I don't buy that," Brewster said. "They simply started shooting at each other; no." "Okay Horace, let me break it down for you. The ladies were told to go there and guard the guy without being told why. The men who showed up were most likely told to grab Ferko without knowing why either." "That makes no sense," Lisa protested. "Congratulations. That is why Cáel can't talk to you anymore," Pamela smirked. "This is the sort of crap he has inadvertently been caught up with; no fault of his own. If he did any of this on purpose, I'd kill him myself." "He is some poor schmuck who only wanted a 7 to 5 job, to make tons of money and bedding a different girl every night," Pamela teased me. "He's no criminal mastermind, or even a convincing criminal. If he has a failing it is that he tends to merely beat up people who deserve to have their spleens ripped out instead. I'm training him to be smarter than that." "Who are you?" Brewster gawked. Pamela gave a sinister smile. Lisa looked at me. "I've fought a woman with a twelve foot stick with a pointy bit of metal at the end with little thought to my personal safety. This lady (Pamela) scares me. She is with me because I have no means of stopping her and I put saving others a great deal of pain and suffering over my own unsettled nerves." "Do you really think you are that good?" Lisa half-turned around to face Pamela. "Do you want your gun back?" Pamela offered up a police issue Glock 22, grip first. My kind of gun. How sad. I was too depressed to seduce Officer Lisa. Brewster reached around to check is firearm. It was still there, much to his relief. "How did you do that?" Lisa wondered as she retrieved and inspected her weapon. Pamela tapped Brewster's shoulder with the man's magazine. Brewster was aghast. She'd stolen his gun, taken out the ammo and returned it without him noticing. "I found it on the floor. The truth is a bit more expensive than you are willing to pay at the moment, believe me," Pamela grinned. Why had Pamela showboated? She was buying me some mental respite. She was also exhibiting to the two police folks that there might be some truth to her outlandish tale of criminal conspiracies. Unlike the other Amazons, Pamela knew we had to maintain friendly relations with some part of law enforcement if I was going to bury my Father. (The Medical Examiner's Office) So much happens in life we rarely put the timespan of events in context. Talking with a person in line who turns out to make your day better/worse, become a friend and/or a date. In a matter of a few seconds your life has been altered. Two minutes later and you would have missed getting the concert tickets where you meet your future; whomever. Two minutes sooner and you get caught in the 'speed trap' instead of the other poor sap who you drive past as they sit on the side of the road keeping the patrol officer company. His/her insurance rate goes up while you have that extra money for later. Had we arrived two minutes earlier to the morgue; disaster aborted. Two minutes later would have equated to a frustrating mystery. Life was not so kind. It was the same group as before; Detective Lisa, Investigator Horace, Rachel and I. We had just added an Assistant Medical Examiner who was going over information garnered from the autopsy with the two cops. Pamela was 'checking things out', whatever that meant. The key to it all was Rachel being Rachel. Security Detail are more than simply elite fighting-women. They are also bodyguards, security specialist and normally stack a third specialty into the mix. When Rachel spotted five armed people in the hallway right outside the Medical Examiner's autopsy room, her alertness spiked. Only one was a uniformed police officer. Rachel was still gun-less. The two EMS personnel rolling an occupied body bag out on a gurney shouldn't have had on their heavy jackets on a late June afternoon. The other two men were chatting about something. That wasn't unusual. Where they were standing was; to Lisa's experienced eye. Rachel's heightened anxiety made Lisa double-check everything. Horace didn't know what was wrong yet when Lisa's hand came to rest on her piece, he put his hand on his Ruger SR45. "Excuse me," Lisa called out. No one stopped moving. "Excuse me," Lisa demanded in a louder voice. "I am Detective Lisa Capella, Chicago Police Department; Homicide Division. What is going on?" That was a reach. Bodies exit the morgue all the time. The two people with the body made sense. The two 'odd' fellows weren't breaking any law. In cop-talk, this was called 'gut instinct'. She produced her badge. There was a quick look by the two ambulance folk to the farther of the two 'talking' men. That group were rather competent, just not competent conmen. The two EMS guys turned and tried to give Lisa a causal look. "What can we do for you, officer?" the designated diplomat asked nonchalantly. "Whose body is that?" Lisa inquired. "I'm not sure; all we do is pick 'em up and take them to the appropriate funeral home," he shrugged. "Take ten seconds and show me the release order," Lisa gave a chilly command. The cop at the far end of the hall; the one with the door that lead to the loading/unloading area, was starting to clue in that something wasn't right. "Oh, by the Great Pumpkin, this is bad," Brewster muttered under his breath like a thousand other fathers who engaged in the daily struggle to not curse at work so they wouldn't curse around their children. "Of course, Detective Capella," the diplomat nodded. "Is there a problem?" He carefully pulled out his smart phone and handed it over. Lisa wasn't born yesterday. She handed the phone to me instead of looking at it herself. She was keeping her eyes on the guys with guns. They really did have an order to transfer my Father to a mortuary. Apparently I had requested this be done; without my knowledge. "Cáel Nyilas requested his father be taken to the Green Meadows mortuary in Cicero," I informed Lisa, Rachel and Horace. "I need to talk to Mr. Nyilas," Lisa informed them. "If I can't talk to him, I can't let the body leave this building. This is an ongoing investigation." The 'diplomat' was worried yet Lisa had given him an out. After I returned his phone, he called his off-site boss, who gave him a number which the diplomat gave to Lisa. Lisa called 'me' without my phone ringing. Even so, 'I' confirmed the authorization. The four gunmen relaxed as Lisa hung up. "One more question," Lisa pulled a 'Columbo', "was this a rush job, or are you all 'not ready for prime time players'?" The 'diplomat' made one last lunge at deception. "Detective Capella, our work order is legitimate," he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what you mean?" "Funeral homes have their own uniforms; they do not dress as EMS," Lisa deconstructed their illusions. "The bodies of murder victim are not released by the Medical Examiner until a cause of death is known and that information is released to the homicide detective assigned to the case; that would be me, if there was any doubt. Your two buddies down the hall could have read and critiqued the Magna Carta in the time it has taken for you to do your 'song and dance'," Lisa pointed out. "Oh, and the real Cáel Nyilas is standing next to me. Whoever talked with me on the phone is going to jail too. Now I suggest the four of you face the wall, put your hands over your head, palms against the wall and no one will get hurt." Darwin check time; they drew their guns. Of course they drew their guns. Why would they not draw their guns considering the farthest enemy was all of 4 meters away and the only immediately cover was my Dad's horizontal corpse? Gurneys tend to be lightweight and mostly empty space. The quickest on the draw was one of the two 'talkers'. He whipped out a 357 Magnum revolver and popped two shots into the police officer next to him; right in the center mass at less than 2 meters; ouch. Rachel was next, making a diving front roll between the two cops, toward the two fake EMS guys. I was right behind her, except my plan was to vault Dad's body and get at the second talker. I was not acting sanely. The second talker went in the next split second. He had brought a sawed-off automatic shotgun to the fight. His first salvo blew a chunk out of the wall next to Lisa's hip. She was less than an eye-blink behind as she put two slugs into the 'diplomat's' armored chest. He was kind enough to drop his Mac 11 from his twitching fingers and into Rachel's hands. Less than a single heartbeat later, the 'diplomat's EMS buddy revealed his own Mac 11. His mistake was not shooting his first target; Brewster. He was tracking Rachel and me instead, hoping to catch us together in a spray of lead. The general feeling was that, for all his law enforcement experience, Investigator Brewster had never actually shot at anyone before. His cop instincts kicked into overdrive. The perpetrators appeared to be wearing body armor and possessed a small arsenal of illegal weapons. His aim tweaked up, he pulled the trigger and a 45 ACP round effectively decapitated his target; our first confirmed casualty. My encounter with the Latin Kings had been a lesson in poor tactical flexibility. This time, by unspoken agreement, the two talkers were exercising their tactical acumen as they began withdrawing toward the exit. With the short range, width of the hall and lack of cover, being shot at by a shotgun, or a 357 didn't make much difference. I was trying to jump onto the gurney and launch myself at the two when my toe caught on the bottom of Dad's body, turning my heroic rush into a face-plant on Father. The men's cover fire worked on Lisa and Horace. Lisa, being more exposed, had to dive flat. Horace crouch-ran to Rachel. Rachel, with her submachine gun, was firing a steady stream of bullets from between the gurney's top surface and bottom shelf. Her shots shattered shotgun guy's shins and blasted off his knee caps. As that bastard screamed and toppled forward, Rachel emptied the magazine into both his thighs and his right hip. By the copious nature of the blood spray, an artery had been clipped, if not severed. Horace grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me off the gurney, down to his side. Lisa fired off a few shots at the vanishing leader, but he was already out the door. Rachel was rifling the closest EMS's headless body, looking for a fresh clip for the M 11. "Don't," Horace cautioned her. Lisa was running to the door. "Rachel, leave the gun and follow me," I commanded. "Wait," Horace called out. He was in an impossible situation. The bold Assistant ME began looking for any survivors, starting with the diplomat. Detective Capella was chasing after a possible cop-killer. I was already running after Lisa and Horace couldn't ride herd on Rachel, catch me and support Lisa all at once. Rachel muttered in Hittite 'dirty goat' at my fleeting form. I was sure its true meaning was far nastier. "Da-darn it," Horace grimaced as he started rushing after the three of us. I doubted it was any consolation to Horace that Lisa shot me an evil look when I caught up to her at the loading dock. There were no cars peeling away and had the bad guy fled out the huge doors 15 meters away, she would have seen him. Rachel arrived next. "Secure my Father's body," I instructed. She wasn't pleased but she wasn't talking back either. Horace showed up last of all. He was talking over his walky-talky, updating the Chicago PD on all the crazy, tragic crap that had gone down. Rachel slipped past Horace on her way back to Dad. The unspoken order was for her to re-arm and stay close, something she couldn't do under Horace's watchful gaze. Lisa and Horace were working out a plan to take their perpetrator down and it didn't include me. I was a civilian after all. My thinking was traipsing in a different direction. They were thinking criminal evasion. I was thinking stone cold, bad-ass killer. He may have already killed one police officer in cold blood. Why not make it three? There was also the mathematics of it all. Two guns are more likely to hit a target than one; I had learned that bit of tactical insight from my time with Aya. My disadvantage was my advantage. I didn't have a gun so I didn't have to position myself so I could shoot at anyone else. "Here I go," I alerted the two officers. My body was flying onto the loading deck before they could stop me. My cockamamie idea saved my life. Maybe he thought I stumbled and lost my piece. Maybe, at the last second, he saw through my deception. Maybe he was wondering what the last episode of 'Defiance' would be like. We'll never know. According to Lisa, he was tracking my fall with his 3 57 Magnum. He didn't shoot because he only had two bullets left, hadn't been able to reload yet and his Berretta 9 mm back-up pistol was on the other side of his body. Two bullets; two cops, he was probably sure he could beat me to death. Anyway, when he figured out the sacrificial lamb was the unarmed me, he returned his aim to the entryway, Lisa and Horace. The guy wasn't behind any sort of cover. He was pressed against the wall so he wouldn't be able to bring his other pistol into play inside that first split second. When Lisa shot him, it had to hurt, but didn't put him down. She shot again; missed. He shot, missed, shot again hitting Lisa and knocking her back and down. The leader pivoted off the wall, bringing his Berretta to bare on Investigator Brewster. A lifetime inside the blink of an eye; Horace's bullet hit the criminal; major brain splatter. Poor Horace. Horace was falling onto his side, taking a wild shot and hoping to keep the gunman from shooting Lisa and I when he accidentally ended the man's existence. The lead bad guy's final shot zipped passed Horace's left shoulder, over my legs and ricocheted off the loading dock wall and into space. Good old Lisa, she staggered to her feet then stumbled over to the gunman, seeking some signs of life. He was alive. Horace's 45 slug had 'only' removed the top half of his brain so the heart and lungs were still being told to beat and breath. As she was making her own call for Emergency Services, a piece of the man's skull that had been clinging to the wall plopped down. That broke Horace. He began vomiting. I rolled over to a sitting position. Rachel peeked in then utilized her blue tooth to stop the rest of the SD team from swarming me in a public building. Cops began showing up. As soon as Detective Capella had made her initial report and dealt with the traumatic injuries among the survivors, she turned on me. "Are you insane!" she screamed at yours truly. "Yes," I muttered. "I've been trying to tell you that for over an hour now." "This is not a joking matter," Lisa moved into my personal space. Was I really so far gone I didn't want sex? Nah; I could do her. "I could have killed people." "To be fair," I stood up, "you didn't kill anyone." The policeman was clinging to life, the 'diplomat' had been saved by his body armor and the second talker's prospects didn't look promising. "Horace buried two and I'm betting the guy Rachel shot isn't going to survive having both his femoral arteries cut. Two decades of Law  and  Order has taught me that some sort of Internal Affair's investigation is going to happen. I imagine there is a great deal of surveillance video so you should be vindicated quickly. We are still going to part ways for a while," I pointed out. "Take care." I made to leave. "Where do you think you are going?" Lisa grabbed my arm. "You were involved in a gunfight in a major municipal building. You can't walk away." "Yes I can," I grunted. "Horace, I've pointed you at the dead bodies," I told the Burnham investigator. "Good luck," I patted him on the shoulder. The look he came back with wasn't one of resigned defeat. Oh no, he was going to figure out what the fuck was going on, or else. The rest of the Chicago PD wasn't letting to let us leave either, so off Rachel and I were taken to the closest Precinct where we were non-communicative. (Back with the Feds) Theodora rescued me and Rachel into Federal custody where we were equally useless. It didn't take me long to figure out that, compared to Rachel, I was being downright verbose. If me being a jackass was a bonus for the Feds, they didn't exhibit an ounce of appreciation. I really loved Special Agent John Rios getting all 'super ass-kicker' on me. I was looking at 'serious' federal jail time. I was a 'domestic terrorist' and under the Patriot Act; then I fell out of my chair laughing. I was fatigued; my ability to separate desire from reality was fading plus I always fought back with my wits before my fists. "I've been awake for thirty-six hours," I chuckled as I regained my seat. "What is your excuse for being delusional?" I snorted. "I trip up cocky bastards like you all the time," John sat on the table, hovering above me. "You think you've got all the angles covered. You don't, Mr. Nyilas. People like you take things for granted, screw up and then you are all turning on each other like rats." "Ugh," I sighed. "Fine, Brainiac, what am I doing wrong? To clarify the question for you, what crime am I involved with that makes me a criminal, a terrorist, or a criminal terrorist?" "Guns, Cáel Nyilas," John sneered. "With all the people running around with all those firearms, it is pretty freaking obvious." "Wow; uh; John;” I started. <

Chris Easterling joins Baskin & Phelps (Dan Menningen in for Andy Baskin) to give his thoughts on what the Browns may look to do with the Deshaun Watson contract, if Jameis Winston could start for the Browns long term, and Ken Dorsey calling plays for the Browns.

Welcome back to our weekend Cabral HouseCall shows! This is where we answer our community's wellness, weight loss, and anti-aging questions to help people get back on track! Check out today's questions:    Anonymous: Hello, I'm a 36 year old woman who eats mostly a clean plant based diet, but still has fibromyalgia and inflammation in the body. My periods are regular and not strong, but they start with spotting a few days before the painful 1st day of the period. What can I do to stop it being so painful? Also last month I had some spotting and bleeding 4 days around the time of ovulation, is that normal? What does it mean and how to get my body in balance? Thank you     Lara: Hi, dr. C!I know you say nutritional yeast is a problem because its molecules are similar to MSG or that's how the body perceives it, but someone told me the same happens with tomatoes and mushrooms? they say nutritional yeast is a great source of B12 and folic acid - it does contain naturally occurring MSG, but so do tomatoes and mushrooms, so is that the same? Is naturally occurring MSG as bad as actual MSG? Should we avoid tomatoes and mushrooms as well? Thank you for the clarification     Ann: Hi Dr. Cabral- Thank you for all you do for the community:). I have a question about both Heart Rate Variability and VO2Max. Barring going to a specialist to get tested, what are the best or most accurate tools to measure each? Thank you again as always for all you do!       Charlotte: Hi Dr. Cabral, I'm currently trying to conceive & am working with a Naturopath & Integrative Dr to prepare & keep Hashimotos stable. We completed a stool test which was positive for H.Pylori, Staph & high inflammation Calprotectin of 376 ug/g. Three weeks prior to doing the stool test I travelled to Thailand where I ate outside of my usual Gluten & Dairy Free diet & also had stomach upset/diarrhoea for 4 days. I usually have no gut issues. Do you think the upset during travel or H.Pylori/Staph can raise marker? Naturopath wants referral for colonoscopy ASAP as could be driving thyroid & persistent antibodies of 300. Dr & I are reluctant as no prior gut issues & is invasive. Completed 4 month gut protocol to remove pathogens, now working on inflammation. What next?     Allison: Hi Dr. Cabral, I searched your podcast archives and didn't see anything on the topic of bone spurs. My Dad has some in his shoulder and they say the only way to deal with his limited range of motion is surgery. I also have them under my kneecaps which has created a lot of mobility issues and a surgeon told me he could operate and clean off the surface under the kneecaps but there would be no guarantee it would work or help. Why do bone spurs occur and is there any way to get rid of them naturally? I'd also love to know how to prevent them from reforming. Thank you!     Thank you for tuning into today's Cabral HouseCall and be sure to check back tomorrow where we answer more of our community's questions!    - - - Show Notes and Resources: StephenCabral.com/3186 - - - Get a FREE Copy of Dr. Cabral's Book: The Rain Barrel Effect - - - Join the Community & Get Your Questions Answered: CabralSupportGroup.com - - - Dr. Cabral's Most Popular At-Home Lab Tests: > Complete Minerals & Metals Test (Test for mineral imbalances & heavy metal toxicity) - - - > Complete Candida, Metabolic & Vitamins Test (Test for 75 biomarkers including yeast & bacterial gut overgrowth, as well as vitamin levels) - - - > Complete Stress, Mood & Metabolism Test (Discover your complete thyroid, adrenal, hormone, vitamin D & insulin levels) - - - > Complete Food Sensitivity Test (Find out your hidden food sensitivities) - - - > Complete Omega-3 & Inflammation Test (Discover your levels of inflammation related to your omega-6 to omega-3 levels) - - - Get Your Question Answered On An Upcoming HouseCall: StephenCabral.com/askcabral - - - Would You Take 30 Seconds To Rate & Review The Cabral Concept? The best way to help me spread our mission of true natural health is to pass on the good word, and I read and appreciate every review!  

What's up Bros? RHONY is in trouble. This cast continues to give us inauthentic performances and unfortunately we can all see through it. This episode itself contained very little substance to discuss. Yes, Brynn and Ubah continue to be at odds in what seems like an insurmountable issue because Ubah won't let Brynn get a word in. While we've been tough on Brynn this season, could it be that Brynn is attempting to do her job and be messy, but the rest of the cast isn't meeting her halfway? Everyone is so overly sensitive to trivial drama that it makes it difficult for anything of notice to occur. God forbid you speak over someone, or get a little messy, that is grounds for expulsion apparently. Erin is doing fine, Raquel is interesting, but the rest of the cast is flopping hard. We have an entire scene in a grocery store playing 'how much does this cost'. The only action happens in the last scene when Ubah and Brynn get into it, but not really, because once again Brynn isn't able to speak. The group sympathizes with Brynn not getting a word in, but NOBODY SPEAKS UP WHEN UBAH IS GOING IN ON HER. Everyone is afraid to ruffle feathers, they are afraid of damaging their public image, they are not doing enough nor giving enough and it shows. Barring a complete 180 and the whole group throwing caution to the wind and really giving us 100%, this show is headed for another reboot, pause or worse... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices