Podcasts about Braulio

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Best podcasts about Braulio

Latest podcast episodes about Braulio

On The Rocks
Episode 428: Episode 378 - Not Just a Goof

On The Rocks

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 29, 2025 48:53


This week we're reviewing one of the more surprising documentary releases of 2025: Not Just a Goof! Does this documentary do the film that is a fan favorite of the podcast justice? Or does it deserve as much fanfare as the initial release of A Goofy Movie?The Powerline- 1 1/2 oz Mezcal- 3/4 oz. Ginger Syrup- 3/4 oz. Lemon Juice- 3/4 oz. Braulio- 1/4 oz. Honey SyrupOn The Rocks does not support underage drinking!____________________________Check us out on iTunes!Email us at PodcastOTR@gmail.com if you have ideas for future drink/pop-culture pairings!

ABC Cardinal 730AM
29 04 2025 Ancho Perfil - Braulio Salinas - Cañicultor de Troche (Guairá)

ABC Cardinal 730AM

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 29, 2025 8:23


29 04 2025 Ancho Perfil - Braulio Salinas - Cañicultor de Troche (Guairá) by ABC Color

Fintech Layer Cake
Card Processor 101 with Braulio Lam from EQ Bank

Fintech Layer Cake

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 24, 2025 37:40 Transcription Available


In this episode of FinTech Layer Cake, Reggie and Ali are joined by Braulio Lam, Senior Director of Engineering at EQ Bank, to unpack the essential ingredients of selecting and integrating a card processor. With experience across multiple processors and fintech startups, Braulio breaks down what to look for in API documentation, how to assess a processor's operational and customer support readiness, and what a real-world integration looks like. From technical deep dives to agile banking transformation, Braulio offers practical, tactical insights for engineers, product leaders, and anyone navigating the complexities of payments infrastructure.

Radio Elda
Declaraciones de Braulio Jaén en la Cadena SER

Radio Elda

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 4, 2025 12:22


Según afirma Celia Carbonell, el Ministerio de Justicia se excusa diciendo que no es competencia suya abordar la exposición de la letrada.

Cocktail College
Picon Bière

Cocktail College

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 3, 2025 57:03


French soldier Gaétan Picon crafted his namesake liqueur — an intensely bitter, herbal, and orange-forward spirit meant to fight off fevers — in the 1830s. Back home, locals soon discovered that a dash of Amer Picon in their beer transformed an ordinary pint into something extraordinary. And so the Picon Bière was born. Joining us to explore it today is Jay Zimmerman, long-time bar owner and bartender at Bar Ba'sik, which sadly recently closed, and sales manager at Good Time Brewing Co. Listen on (or read below) to discover Jay's Picon Bière recipe — and don't forget to like, review, and subscribe! Jay Zimmerman's Picon Bière Recipe Ingredients - 1 ounce Amer Picon or alternative, such as Braulio or the Pathfinder - 6 ounces beer, such as Kronenbourg, Witbier, or Good Time IPA Non-Alcoholic Directions 1. Build in a 10 ounce Highball glass. 2. Serve as cold as possible without ice.

Acá Entre Nozz
Ep. 280 - Lo que hay DETRÁS DE CARIN LEON Y SU EQUIPO DE TRABAJO || BRAULIO MATA

Acá Entre Nozz

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 25, 2025 46:13


Acá Entre Nozz
Ep. 280 - Lo que hay DETRÁS DE CARIN LEON Y SU EQUIPO DE TRABAJO || BRAULIO MATA

Acá Entre Nozz

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 25, 2025 46:13


Expreso Radio
¿Cómo va la Reforma Judicial en Querétaro? - Braulio Guerra Urbiola, Magistrado Presidente del Tribunal Superior de Justicia de Querétaro

Expreso Radio

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 21, 2025 14:49


En esta entrevista Braulio Guerra, Magistrado Presidente del Tribunal Superior de Justicia nos habla de la Reforma Judicial en el estado.

Manuel López San Martín
Turismo en México: Retos y oportunidades en la era Sheinbaum, según Braulio Arsuaga - 12 marzo 2025.

Manuel López San Martín

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 12, 2025 16:12


En entrevista para MVS Noticias con Manuel López San Martín, Braulio Arsuaga Losada, presidente del Consejo Nacional Empresarial Turístico (CNET), habló sobre la situación del turismo en México, una de las industrias más relevantes para el desarrollo económico del país. “Esta industria tuvo un superávit de 21 mil millones de dólares el año pasado, mientras sectores como el manufacturero, petrolero y de construcción enfrentaron déficits tremendo”, declaró Arsuaga. Con la llegada de 44 millones de turistas internacionales en 2024 y una generación de divisas por 33 mil millones de dólares, el turismo en México se posiciona como un pilar económico, por lo que Arsuaga destacó que, aunque las cifras son alentadoras, el potencial del país es mucho mayor.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

O Assunto
O projeto de lei contra apologia ao crime em shows

O Assunto

Play Episode Listen Later Feb 12, 2025 22:33


Proposto por uma vereadora do União Brasil de São Paulo, o projeto que proíbe o uso de dinheiro público para bancar shows de artistas que façam apologia ao crime e ao uso de drogas chegou também a Brasília. O texto, primeiro apresentado na Câmara dos Vereadores de São Paulo, foi protocolado pelo deputado Kim Kataguiri (União Brasil-SP) na Câmara dos Deputados e agora espera um parecer da presidência da Casa. Na capital paulista, a vereadora Amanda Vettorazzo não falou em nenhum nome ou gênero musical. Mas, nas redes sociais, ela mesmo apelidou o projeto de “lei anti-Oruam", uma referência ao rapper de 23 anos que acumula milhões de seguidores nas redes sociais. Para entender quem é Oruam e como a discussão sobre o projeto se espalhou por capitais e chegou até Brasília, Julia Duailibi conversa com Braulio Lorentz, editor do g1 Pop&Arte, e com Danilo Cymrot, doutor em direito pela USP e pesquisador cultural. Autor do livro “O funk na batida: baile, rua e parlamento”, Daniel explica o que é e qual a diferença entre apologia e incitação ao crime. Ele avalia também o quanto os projetos em discussão avançam em relação ao que já está previsto em lei. Braulio conta quem é Oruam, cantor de rap cuja carreira começou em 2021 e que, no ano passado, cantou para uma plateia vestido com uma camiseta estampando o pedido de liberdade para o pai, o traficante Marcinho VP.

Hoy por Hoy
Comando Norte | El gran error de la justicia y el pequeño error de Braulio García Jaen

Hoy por Hoy

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 28, 2025 26:01


Ahmed Tommouhi, un inmigrante marroquí que en 1991 llevaba apenas seis meses en España, fue detenido y condenado por una serie de violaciones, robos y agresiones que no había cometido. Su inocencia estuvo clara desde 1995, cuando se detuvo al verdadero violador. A pesar de eso, Ahmed pasó 15 años en prisión y ha tenido su vida suspendida desde entonces. Ahora tiene 72 años, y sigue sin papeles, sin indemnización y esperando recursos. Su caso fue revisado gracias a la labor de una serie de "quijotes", de ciudadanos ejemplares, que no dejaron quieta esa injusticia.Uno de esos quijotes es el periodista Braulio García Jaén, que ha investigado y movido este asunto desde que se topó con él en el año 2004 y que ahora publica "Justicia poética", fruto de veinte años obsesivos. Confiesa que su mayor error desde el punto de vista personal fue prometerle a Tommouhi que nunca abandonaría esta lucha. Fue una promesa "idiota", porque el tiempo pasa, y él confundió el marco de su voluntad con el de la realidad. Pero sobre todo, porque ha sido gracias a la distancia emocional del caso, como fue capaz de ver con claridad por qué espita podía seguirse moviendo. Si el caso se ha revisado, aunque a Braulio le dé pudor admitirlo, ha sido gracias a "Justicia poética."

Radio Osasuna
El saque de Kosner, CIERRE DE MERCADO con Braulio Vázquez

Radio Osasuna

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 28, 2025 48:14


Capítulo especial “CIERRE DE MERCADO” con el Director Deportivo del Club, Braulio Vázquez. Analizamos el empate contra Las Palmas, el rendimiento del equipo y hablamos de Vicente Moreno, el final y cierre del mercado de fichajes de invierno. Todo esto y mucho más en el capítulo de El saque de Kosner de hoy.

Arquitectos - LALIGA âš½
#42 Braulio (CA Osasuna)

Arquitectos - LALIGA âš½

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 22, 2025 68:59


Braulio Vázquez es el director deportivo de CA Osasuna. Camino de los 8 años en el club rojillo, en este episodio charlamos con el director gallego para adentrarnos en profundidad en el proyecto, haciendo un balance de todo lo vivido y tocando cuestiones como la era Arrasate, la llegada estratégica de Budimir, la etapa de Vicente Moreno... Junto a ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Roberto Benito⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

A Cup Of Joe
A Cup of Joe | Embracing Grit | EP 71

A Cup Of Joe

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 14, 2025 59:33


In this inspiring episode, Joe Morton sits down with Braulio Filoteo, a world-class triathlete, entrepreneur, and host of the GRITones podcast. From competing on the global stage for Mexico to founding Access Salud, a transformative healthcare initiative, Braulio shares his journey of resilience, grit, and the lessons he's learned from embracing discomfort. Tune in to hear his insights on goal-setting, taking ownership, and turning life's toughest moments into opportunities for growth. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit joemorton88.substack.com

24 Horas | Showcast - Estado Nacional
Periodista Braulio Jatar sobre la investidura en Venezuela: "Están violando la Constitución, Edmundo González debe juramentarse"

24 Horas | Showcast - Estado Nacional

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 10, 2025 22:08


El abogado y periodista chileno-venezolano, quien además es director del sitio web Reporte Confidencial y preso político, Braulio Jatar, conversó en una nueva edición de Estado Nacional, instancia en que abordó el caótico panorama político que se vive en Venezuela tras la investidura que se realizará este viernes 10 de enero.

24 Horas | Showcast - Estado Nacional
Periodista Braulio Jatar sobre la investidura en Venezuela: "Están violando la Constitución, Edmundo González debe juramentarse"

24 Horas | Showcast - Estado Nacional

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 10, 2025 22:08


El abogado y periodista chileno-venezolano, quien además es director del sitio web Reporte Confidencial y preso político, Braulio Jatar, conversó en una nueva edición de Estado Nacional, instancia en que abordó el caótico panorama político que se vive en Venezuela tras la investidura que se realizará este viernes 10 de enero.

The Development by David Podcast
#130 Braulio Estima - Build a World Champion's Mindset

The Development by David Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 19, 2024 53:29


My guest is Braulio Estima, a 3 x ADCC renowned BJJ champion and Hall of Fame Athlete. He discusses his journey from humble beginnings in Brazil, the rise of BJJ, and its unique aspects. He shares insights on competitiveness, personal growth, and the therapeutic benefits of combat sports, drawing from his experiences and notable fights. Braulio reflects on training with Georges St-Pierre, his comeback after paralysis, and his thoughts on the current BJJ generation. He offers advice on pursuing passions and applying a champion mindset to life, highlighting the importance of martial arts in personal growth and development. Sponsor: Fuel your hard-work with hard hitting coffee - https://conatum-brand.com/ Get in touch by heading to: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/davidmcintoshjr/?hl=en-gb E-mail: https://developmentbydavid.co.uk/contact/

Darrers podcast - Ràdio l'Hospitalet de l'Infant
Entrevista Braulio Conejo - donació La Marató de TV3

Darrers podcast - Ràdio l'Hospitalet de l'Infant

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 13, 2024 60:00


podcast recorded with enacast.com

Blua Podcast

Conoce a Braulio, una increíble arquitecto y creativo de la Ciudad de México que nos inspira e invita a encender la llama de creatividad Brau nos cuenta sobre sus estudios en arquitectura y cómo lo conectaron con el arte y la sensibilidad hasta encontrar y crear su propio fuego. ¡No olvides darle like, compartir y suscribirte si te gustó este episodio! No te pierdas ningún chisme con café de ExpressArte, sólo por Blua Media. ____________________________________________________________ SÍGUENOS EN REDES

Ventana 14 desde Cuba por Yoani Sánchez
Cafecito informativo del 25 de noviembre de 2024

Ventana 14 desde Cuba por Yoani Sánchez

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 25, 2024 12:49


Buenos días, soy Yoani Sánchez y en el "cafecito informativo" de este lunes 25 de noviembre de 2024 tocaré estos temas: - "Complejidades económicas" el nuevo eufemismo para la crisis - La censura borra los deseos de libertad escritos en la ‘Nube de madera' - Un solo médico en Urgencias del Pediátrico de Cienfuegos - Angélica Garrido presenta ‘Voz cautiva' de su hermana María Cristina Gracias por compartir este "cafecito informativo" y te espero para el programa de mañana. Puedes conocer más detalles de estas noticias en el diario https://www.14ymedio.com Los enlaces de hoy, para abrirlos desde la Isla se debe usar un proxy o un VPN para evadir la censura: La libra de carne de cerdo llega a los 1.000 pesos unas semanas antes de las fiestas navideñas https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/libra-carne-cerdo-llega-1_1_1108565.html La censura borra los deseos de libertad escritos por los cubanos en la obra del alemán Martin Steinert https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/censura-borra-deseos-libertad-escritos_1_1108574.html Un solo médico atiende durante la noche en las urgencias del Pediátrico de Cienfuegos https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/medico-atiende-durante-noche-urgencias_1_1108568.html Chucho Valdés se considera exiliado y desmiente de nuevo haber aprobado la ejecución de tres cubanos https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/chucho-valdes-considera-exiliado-desmiente_1_1108613.html José Daniel Ferrer está "muy delgado, brutalmente golpeado y con una herida en el rostro" https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/jose-daniel-ferrer-delgado-brutalmente_1_1108587.html Rusia considera que los "embargos hacen que la industria de nuestros países sea más fuerte" https://www.14ymedio.com/internacional/rusia-considera-embargos-industria-paises_1_1108615.html A falta de un sustituto para Jaime Suchlicki, el Cuban Studies Institute de Miami cierra sus puertas https://www.14ymedio.com/cultura/falta-sustituto-jaime-suchlicki-cuban_1_1108598.html Con el 'parole' en mano, cruzar el Río Bravo ya no es una odisea https://www.14ymedio.com/migracion/parole-mano-cruzar-rio-bravo_1_1108589.html La Fiscalía de Las Tunas alerta sobre el aumento de las agresiones sexuales a niños, 27 en lo que va de año https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/fiscalia-tunas-alerta-aumento-agresiones_1_1108582.html En Villa Clara, con trabajo duro y una excelente cosecha de maní, Braulio apenas consiguió 675 dólares https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/villa-clara-trabajo-duro-excelente_1_1108561.html Empieza el dragado del puerto de Batabanó para permitir de nuevo el paso del 'ferry' de Isla de la Juventud https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/empieza-dragado-puerto-batabano-permitir_1_1108579.html Netflix estrenará en Cuba dos capítulos de su miniserie 'Cien años de soledad' https://www.14ymedio.com/cultura/netflix-estrenara-cuba-capitulos-miniserie_1_1108477.html Rumores de octubre: conspiración contra El Taiger, francotiradores para proteger a Díaz-Canel https://www.14ymedio.com/cuba/rumores-octubre-conspiracion-taiger-francotiradores_1_1108604.html Angélica Garrido presenta ‘Voz cautiva' de su hermana María Cristina https://www.14ymedio.com/eventos-culturales/libros/angelica-garrido-presenta-voz-cautiva_1_1108512.html

Radio Valencia
Entrevista a Juanjo Braulio

Radio Valencia

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 20, 2024 21:13


Entrevista a Juanjjo Braulio, autor de "En el nombre de los Borgia", segunda parte de la historia de la familia de Xátiva.

ExplicitNovels
Cáel and the Manhattan Amazons: Part 18

ExplicitNovels

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 18, 2024


If you cannot compromise; Challenge! In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Every person is alone. That is the definition of Free-will.” The gift from Grandpa that keeps on giving. I almost miss not killing him myself." "That man was an eternal foe of the Amazons, Cáel. His death was necessary for peace with the Illuminati, thus peace with all the other factions," Pamela related. I began laughing. "So my misogynistic family heritage comes from my Mother and my misandristic lineage comes from my Father," I clued Pamela in. She found it to be hilariously ironic too. "We still have to be careful," Pamela nudged me. "After all, your Grandfather had plans for your body. Whether we choose to believe it was to be a vessel for your Grandfather's essence; or, if you prefer, he put something in your Mother's DNA that, when combined with the machinery he used to store his memories, would bring him back to life; Cáel O'Shea always was thinking three steps ahead." "Why didn't you kill me when you figured this out?" I stared at her. "You hold the fate of House Ishara inside of you," Pamela smiled warmly. "Besides, I like you. No one really understands me like you do. Everyone else thinks I have a sick sense of humor." "I wish you had been my Grandmother," I nodded. "Wait; wait," Pamela held me back from continuing. "Because if I had been your Grandmother, you would have known to avoid a nut-ranch like Havenstone." "Are you like my psychic twin?" I teased her. She was right, of course. "I had a twin brother," Pamela turned sad. "I have always wondered what path his spirit traveled once they took him to the cliffs." "The fact that you still recall him with empathy speaks volumes for you, Pamela," I hugged her. "I felt the same way, you know," Pamela drew comfort from my warmth. I was uncertain of her meaning. "When they told me what happened to boys; I couldn't accept it. Their reasoning rang hollow and I saw their denial of their own blood to be self-defeating." "I have always wanted to believe my brother waits for me in the Hall of Ancestors so I can finally see his face and tell him I'm sorry that I was the one that was spared," she confessed. "You weren't spared, Pamela," I comforted her. "You had children and grandchildren so that way your brother will have grand-nephews and great grand-nephews whose actions are recorded in the deeds of your house and their names inscribed in the roster of the Host." "That's my hope anyway," I added. "Let it be so," she whispered.  (A Step back in time: that Weekend, between Oneida and Nicole) The weekend;  I'd had plenty of relaxing sex over the weekend, bonded with Oneida somewhat while we biked Saturday morning, had sex with Gael, junior of House Bendis (the woman who let me borrow her phone so I could invite Buffy, Helena and Desiree to my little induction ceremony), then had a late afternoon date with Nikita. Escorting Yasmin and her son to the airport for the start of her Havenstone training after dinner was unsettling. The boy, Braulio, seemed worried, Yasmin was glad to see me, really glad to see me then finished if off by commenting that she could tell 'something had changed'. I affirmed her hunch without going into the details. As Yasmin's mood improved, so did her son's. I wished her luck. She told me I'd need it more. Late Saturday night I was invited to a party by Libra. Brooke showed up date-less (she wasn't jumping into a new relationship) so she glommed onto me; us. Marla and Libra had a huge phone fight about her (Marla) not being 21 yet, thus not invited to the party. Felix was there having reconnected with Gina because he had both a glib tongue and an awe-inspiring sexual arsenal. Felix's attempts to recoup any ground with Brook failed miserably. She had her own bitterness toward Trent, her memory of me handing her panties under an outdoor cafe's table as a trophy Felix had taken the night before and displayed openly in my office, and my own masculine support to draw strength from. Felix and I did not verbally, or socially, spar. He accepted the verdict of our first contest and, for all his faults, he acknowledged that my victory had worth and obeyed his conscience on the matter. If anything, he was visually more respectful than ever before. I wasn't his equal; no man and definitely no woman was; yet I was now a competitor he would have to give his very best to defeat. Sunday morning had been just me and Odette. We'd cuddled on the sofa, watched some TV and then I took her to Havenstone for time in the pool. I kept the overly-aggressive Amazons at bay while getting Odette used to the idea of regular exercise; hanging out with Timothy and I required greater endurance than her sedentary youthful stamina provided. An early afternoon invite to a 'pick-up' basketball game at the community, two-court, outdoor lot with Jason, the bar-back from the Yuppie bar, brought me back in contact with Katy Lee Baker, aka Delivery Girl. Odette tagged along. It also brought me in contact with the local 'wild-life'. A Latin King clique was starting to operate in the area and Jason's crew were the native inhabitants who took exception to this. We played for about half an hour were everyone learned I was a big, fat liar. I was actually good at basketball, despite my earlier claims at ignorance. The Kings showed up, drove off the younger teens playing on the other court. A few more of those jokers showed up and it was now 'our turn' to make space. That went over like a shit brick. The Kings outnumbered us a good two-to-one, but Jason wasn't backing down. I was struggling to convince Jason that discretion was the better part of valor when some of the new Latin King arrivals tried to play with a few of the local ladies who had come down to watch their menfolk pull off their shirts and get sweaty. Poor Odette; she had been in the company of so many powerful, confident and lethal women she'd forgotten she wasn't one. A King grabbed Katy Lee's breast. Odette hit the asshole in the stomach, put a shin to his nuts and finished him off with grabbing his head and driving it into her upward moving knee, dropping him like the sack of shit he was. But wait, he had five buddies. Poo was being served up and the electric switch was about to be flipped. "I'll be back to help in a moment," I growled to Jason as the gang members jumped Odette. Katy Lee and a slightly older woman rushed to Odette's aid. The Kings didn't ignore my approach, peeling off two to 'deal with me'. They really shouldn't have hit Odette because now I was angry. The feces hit the rotary wind machine. With their last shows of bravado, I lay into the closest bastards. The sixteen year old was hesitantly pulling out his 32 caliber ACP while reconsidering his poor life choices as I hit his buddy so hard he went airborne, two teeth and a fountain of blood coming from the ruin I'd made of his face. Gun guy was next. I clamped my left hand on his right, gun-toting wrist then drove my knee into his elbow. The elbow snapped upward with a sound reminiscent of a car backfiring. His screams drowned out the thud of his gun dropping to the court surface. For the three remaining Latin Kings I was closing with, a terrible social reality came crashing in. Gangs rely on several tools to exert power; a propensity for violence, illegal finances, a fierce reputation, and superior numbers. By the look on my face, they discovered that their numbers didn't bother me in the least. I knew exactly who they were and didn't give a damn. My desire to destroy them was motivated by something far stronger than any currency, and I was clearly better at this whole violence thing than they seemed to be. They had their pride and the fidelity with their gang, plus their intimidation tactics were going wrong so fast, they couldn't process the disaster quickly enough to alter course. These guys were not professional warriors by any stretch of the imagination. 'Warriors'; perhaps. 'Professional'; definitely not. Their ability to rapidly adapt to a changing situation was woefully under-developed. In gang hand-to-hand combat, you bunch up your members, overrun a foe and beat him to the ground. Fighting a practitioner of Brazilian jujutsu, standing close to one another is the Last thing you want to do. I was a whirlwind of destruction, fed by the understanding that Jason's bunch needed me back real soon. The asshat who tried to use a knife on me got his hand pinned to the court for his audacity. I repeat, threatening Odette had infuriated me. At center court, Jason had his hands full and then some. The Latin Kings had the edges in both numbers and ferocity. The only other hometown boy holding his own was this thick, solid Puerto Rican guy named Bennie; the rest were in trouble. I started with the four-on-one stomp-down on one of Jason's friends; I'd missed the guy's beat down. My inner Amazon was leading the charge. Unlike all my previous encounters, I was intentionally causing pain. I wasn't trying to drive them off, or render them hors de combat. No, my desire was to strike terror in their hearts, inflicting suffering in order to eradicate my foes' resolve to fight. Knees snapped, bones broke, faces were stomped into the court and internal organs ruptured. Even my erstwhile allies were aghast at the wickedness with which I treated our enemy. "Ah; Cáel; are you okay?" Jason mumbled when the last King went down. He'd have a shiner on his left eye soon and his lip was split and bleeding. I hadn't come through unscathed either. Havenstone had seriously upped my pain threshold. Jason wasn't really asking about my physical well-being anyway. I had to get ahead of this; predicament. "Let's get this trash off the court," I commanded. The boys hesitated until Jason picked up one of my semi-conscious victims. "Come on 'Pendejo', leave and don't come back," Jason yanked the man up and began shoving him toward the gate he and his buddies had arrived by. The rest of Jason's friends joined in and we began cleaning up the place. One gangster decided he was too hurt to be moved. I'd rammed his shoulder into the goalpost, breaking his collarbone. He was crying about the pain he was in. I pulled him up. He was around 7 foot 2 inches tall and 275 pounds. I wrapped my hands around his thick bull neck and slowly raised him up off the ground. His face was reddening, his good hand was trying to break my hold and his legs were flailing about in the open air. [In Spanish] "Pain, Asshole? No, pain is me having to come back here and hunt you and your vermin buddies down," I seethed. "I don't live here. These men are not my friends. You touched my girl and I am God Almighty when it comes to defending those of my household. I am not in a gang. I am not a criminal. If you, or your gang, come within a block of this place, I will become Death. Today, there are too many witnesses. This is your reprieve; your moment of grace," I snarled. "Use it wisely. It will not happen again," I finished in a fury. I dropped him to his wobbly feet, catching his good hand before he fell over. That act of compassion after my dire threat confused the guy. "Go," I returned to English. The rest of the Latin Kings walked, stumbled, were dragged from the court. "Who are you again?" Bennie inquired. "Cáel Nyilas," I grinned. "I'm an Aerospace Engineer working on the feasibility of having hamsters running on their wheels being used to recharge batteries on manned flights to Mars." "Hamster wrangling has to be one tough profession," Katy Lee snickered as she and Odette came up. "Come on now," Jason winced as he licked his lip. "Brawling is about panic, anger and the management of those two forces," I told them. "I was the only one in this fight in control of himself, so my actions look out of proportions to what really happened." "They were kicking our asses," Bennie chuckled. "Not as bad as you guys think," I consoled them. "None of you guys ran, or curled up in a ball. That allowed me to pick my fights. I clearly have more hand-to-hand combat experience, but none of that would have mattered had you guys freaked out." There was some truth in what I said. Had they panicked, I would have grabbed Odette and Katy Lee then fled as well. Since they toughed it out, and the Latin Kings exerted virtually no command and control, I was able take on the gang members in small, bite-sized chunks. My training and experience took care of the rest. This also made the somewhat traumatized ballplayers feel proud about the cuts and bruises they'd received. Now they realized they had 'won' this scuffle, they'd played their parts courageously and had all been instrumental in a successful stratagem. The fact that none of them knew that when the blows were raining in it meant nothing. The women who'd come out to watch the game then witnessed the beat down knew their men had been brave, taken their licks and routed their enemies. Martial ardor, baby! 'Defending' a woman does not diminish her. It increases her odds of dealing with insults and threats in a positive manner. Women who look down on women who use their pussies to better themselves are being stupid. It is the equivalent of having a complete toolbox and only using the hammer. The women were going to give up some level of sex to reward the men. The men, in turn, had an example of the kind of behavior that would get them what they wanted; defending your ladies equated to feminine reward. That did not mean penetration; life was far more complex. It did mean she would hang around you, talk to you and trust you (most likely more than she should). Guys still had to seal the deal, figure out what she wanted and deliver. That had been the working arrangement between men and women for most of the last 80,000 years. What I didn't know at the time was that I was being spied upon, that this spy called Buffy; my 'spear and shield'; and Buffy would gather up some Security Detail chicks. Why would SD help? Some morons had tried to murder the Head of House Ishara and that wasn't something the Amazons would tolerate. That Latin King clique was contemplating revenge. They were about to get schooled by the Grand Mistresses of that brutal and unforgiving Art form. I could never let Odette know. After all, to her they were someone's sons, brothers and husbands. My chilling rationalization was that, for whatever reason, the Latin Kings had redefined themselves as carnivores, preying on the rest of mankind. They should have studied what nature was really like. Predators had predators of their own. They'd been big, bad caimans, snatching all that came to the water's edge. In nature, the caiman was careful because jaguars hunted and ate caimans. In the urban jungle, there were things far more dangerous than gang-bangers living in the shadows that jealously guarded their spot as apex predator. Odette and I exited the field. I'd have to catch Katy Lee another time. I was to get the bad news from Ulyssa and her sister about the death in her family. Timothy, Odette and I worked out some more as Odette and I took turns relating the fight to Timothy. He reminded us that the Latin Kings were a powerhouse in the city as well as nationwide. Nicole called at the point I was ready for bed and the rest was family history. (Monday morning) I locked my bike up as normal. When I saw the security guards eyeing me funny, I grew cautious. "Is there a problem?" I asked the woman scanning my ID. She was fearfully hesitant. "Wait, are you worried that I'm pissed about Friday morning?" "We were only doing our jobs, Cáel of Ishara," she told me. "Oh," I chuckled. "So that is what is bothering you." I smiled at the group. "Of course you were doing your jobs. I would have been surprised if you hadn't and I'm certainly not angry about what went down. You acted in defense of Havenstone and I never saw it any other way." That gave them some relief. My next problem. "Has anyone from the Security Detail called about me?" I asked. "I don't see anyone here to pick me up this morning." "I'll call them," she offered. The answer was that they weren't expecting me, but I could come down if I desired. That was promising. My ID card worked for the lower levels now. Walking past the Armory was intriguing; in that they barely noticed me. In the prep room for the shooting range there was; nothing. No guns for me to try out, or even look at. I went to the firing range looking for one of my 'friendly' SD ladies. They were all giving me the cold shoulder. Naomi told me why; Constanza. The SD were very angry with my interference in justice for Constanza versus Pamela. Since Naomi had been there when the entire incident went down, I didn't laugh in her face. I got coldly furious instead. If I wanted a firearm, I could go to the Armory and check one out, so that's what I did. The guards there weren't helpful either. Inside was; well; everything. I called up SD and asked them to send an armorer to help me make some selections. Ten minutes later, the lady had still not arrived. That made me laugh. They were tit-for-tatting the wrong guy. Glasses and ear protection came first. I left the Armory with my weapon of choice for the day, a full bandolier and a crate of ammo. I could see the SD chick's guarding the Armory eyes bug-out. I grinned and headed for the shooting range. They surreptitiously called somebody. Knowing that, I hurried myself along, passing straight through prep room for the firing line. I was a man on a mission. See, I could be a raging prick when I wanted to be. Those SD babes should have talked with any number of the Amazons who already knew me. I had made it clear; make my life difficult if you wished, but accept whatever payback I could imagine. Respecting House Ishara wasn't even a question. For pummeling me over Constanza, they were about to get a whole new kind of Righteous Pricking, courtesy of the house they refused to treat with equality. An Amazon finished firing off a clip for her personal defense weapon and was checking her pistol's slide action. "Excuse me," I said as I stepped up. She was about to scream something. Most likely 'stop!' Since I had no intention of complying, I didn't wait; or stop. For me, I was suddenly wondering what the precise blast radius of a 40 mm grenade was. I pulled the trigger anyway. I swear by Ishara-turned-Ishtar, I hit that target right in the 10 ring. The explosion the grenade caused when it hit the back wall rendered my claims moot. Even with eye and ear protection, I could barely hear anything because of the ringing echo, or see anything because of the dust. The flashing yellow lights and klaxons going off indicated something bad had happened. Bad wasn't done yet. I walked to the next stand where the Amazon had ducked down while she oriented herself to the threat. "Good morning," I yelled at her. Then I aimed and prepared to squeeze off my second round. With all the dust in the air, I could barely make out the outline of the target I was shooting at. Accuracy at this point was unnecessary. This bitching toy seemed to kill everything. Third station; third shot and the Amazons were starting to figure out what was going on. Some moron was firing a grenade launcher within an indoor firing range. Before the fourth shot they figured out it was me. Now those bitches had a problem. The lead Amazon tried to get my attention despite my constant attempts to ignore her. I resolved the issue by tapping my six-shot bang-bang and indicating I had two shots left; and I used them. Only when I stopped to reload did the ladies screw up the courage to exhibit some kind of physical resistance. Naomi pulled off my ear protection. "What are you doing?" she shouted at me. She wasn't being rude. All our ears were ringing. "I'm being left to my own devices, you 'failures' to every concept of loyalty, respect and faith," I replied to the entire group. "Constanza called House Ishara an abomination, insane and diseased," I spat out my hate. "I spared her life when I should have had her stricken from the roles of her house and butchered her like some beast. I showed mercy and this is how the Security Detail responds? Congratulations, you have earned my contempt." "But why are you using a grenade launcher; indoors?" Naomi struggled to understand. "Oh," I smirked. "Because I can. I'm superior to all of you here so I can do what I want and you have to suck it up. I am the Head of a First House so none of you have a choice. Every one of you chose to show me no respect and, out of respect for your lack of respect, you get no respect." They were trying to figure how to work around that when I upped the ante. "I'm also going to direct the other members of House Ishara to come down here at random times and fire off grenades, use flamethrowers, or; how about tear gas; tear gas sounds good." "That would degrade the readiness of the Security Detail," the first Amazon protested. "Not my problem. Take your complaints to Elsa or Saint Marie. Make sure to start your complaint with exactly how you behaved toward me; but use the names Beyoncé, Ursula, Katrina, or Messina instead of mine," I glared. "Now excuse me. I have a box full of high explosives to work through." And off I went. There were 25 shooting lanes. I had fired off my 22nd grenade when Elsa showed up. "Cáel of Ishara, why are you destroying this training area?" she inquired calmly. "Working through a crate of grenades. I thought that would be obvious," I joked. "Is there something wrong we should talk about?" Elsa was keeping her anger in check. "Your underlings were chronically disrespectful. Since positive reinforcement failed; being nice to any of your weakling-bullies was counter-productive; I decided to employ the stick treatment," I met her gaze. "Stop destroying the firing line; please," Elsa ground out through clenched teeth. "You are right," I nodded. "I need to take a few of these upstairs to the pure-blood gym. There is a lot more damage I could do there. This place is already a mess." Desiree's voice broke the silence. She must have come in with Elsa. "Cáel," Desiree yawned. "How do you want to resolve this crisis? That doesn't involve setting off seismic sensors all over New York City, that is?" "Hmmm; fine, every member of the Security Detail is to write a romantic poem then read it aloud to a 'Runner' while at that 'Runners' workstation," I invented a punishment. "Ishara is the Goddess of Love as well as Oaths. It is a fitting tribute to her that romantic verses from the heart be created and spoken aloud." "It is also fitting that the recipients be 'Runners', since it will unite them in both their appreciation of love and their anger with me for throwing my weight around like every other Full-Blood who thinks they are better because of some quirk of birth," I concluded. "It will be done," Elsa intoned. That part of the matter was settled. Elsa looked at my grenade launcher. An unhappy sigh escaped my lips as I handed it over. "Elsa, I'm coming for weapon's practice again tomorrow," I informed her. Now I was going to burn off some time in the pool then get to work, or so I hoped. I hadn't gotten away with this because I was Cáel Nyilas, or the Head of House Ishara. I got away with it because Elsa didn't want to see the faces of the Council when she explained what her people had done. The Council members treating me like offal was their business. Other Amazons deciding that they could treat ANY member of the Council that poorly wouldn't fly; reference to the fate of Leona. Why had SD treated me poorly? Constanza. If they repeated my conversation with Constanza that cost her an eye, the outcome was known by all. Constanza would cease being an Amazon right before she died. I made it to Katrina's office four minutes before seven only to find Katrina absent while Daphne, Brielle and Pamela were hanging around. Dora and Fabiola followed me in. Everyone made it before the deadline, Katrina last of all. As Katrina began the meeting, Brielle left. Pamela and Katrina ignored one another. My work review was far better than normal. I'd sold Anthrax to a terrorist cell, but it had turned out to be a mislabeled Anthrax antidote instead, so all was good. Daphne was trying to figure out how her glowing report over my efforts had been so misconstrued. My assigned boss for the day was Rosette, one of the senior members of Executive Services. "Katrina, I need a moment of your time; in private," I requested as the meeting broke up. "As Cáel, or the Head of House Ishara?" she asked. "Neither," I replied. She waved the others away with Tigger shutting the door. Pamela remained seated. Katrina shot me a look concerning Pamela's presence. "I don't control her," I shrugged. "She hangs around me for her own reasons." Katrina nodded. I walked to the edge of Katrina's desk, put my palms on its cool surface. "Katrina, I am the Grandson of Cáel O'Shea, I met Brianna O'Shea earlier this morning, she knows who I am and was brought to town because some genetic research done on me." "Brianna knows where I work and who I work for, as in you. Pamela said the word 'Protocols' and Brianna backed off, but I'm sure she wants to see me again. I've warned my Dad about what happened and to destroy everything associated with my Mom. By the way, Brianna looks exactly like my Mother did when I was first born; exactly," I emphasized. Had the situation not been so completely screwed up, I would have treasured the steamrollered look on Katrina's face. "She is with something called the Illuminati. She doesn't know about me and House Ishara. When Brianna tried to figure how this Protocol/Truce thing involved me, Pamela stonewalled her," I added. "Pamela, I can understand Cáel not immediately bringing this to my attention," Katrina's cool exterior reasserted itself. "He doesn't know what's going on. You do." "I didn't feel inclined to do your job for you, Katrina," Pamela gave a rapier-thin smile. "Besides, you are part of the brain trust that sent him home Friday night cloaked in ignorance, not I." "Cáel," Katrina turned back to me. "How did you meet Brianna O'Shea?" "I met a lawyer, screwed her to multiple orgasms in the Women's room of some bar, met her again plus her lawyer buddies and Sunday night she called me to her downtown office to screw her into enlightenment; which I did," I sighed. "She was working on a case involving DNA ownership, which is oddly germane to my current predicament," I grinned. "Cáel, we need you to report to medical for more testing," Katrina ordered. "I apologize, but House Ishara does not believe that would be in its best interest so Cáel must decline," I nodded. "Will there be anything else?" Will battled Will to no outcome. She nodded and I left. Pamela ghosted along behind me. Rosetta intersected my path and off we went. I was given no clue as to my assignment; no surprise. I texted Buffy: 'Nothing new happening. Pick me up at 5:30 Wed. morning.' That meant there was no new development on the committee to help House Ishara pick 'Runners'. I had played nice. Katrina and Hayden had dodged me on Friday afternoon. This morning, she owed it to me to show some kind of progress. That wasn't what she offered. I had made a concession, they refused to reciprocate, so now I was free of any obligation to consider their wishes. I wanted more 'Runners' and come Wednesday morning, I was adding twenty. Working with Rosette (and Pamela) was a triple-barreled experience. Errands were the largest bulk of our time, but the rest was other mundane tasks of the most basic sort. Within the workload were instructions in the craft of being unseen. Executive Services was more than laundry and daycare; it was about not disrupting the lives of clients. A side benefit of that was learning how to move through any group and not be memorable; to not give off the subtle clues that you were an outsider. Not only could a group of executives hold a conversation without an ES person disrupting their trains of thought, people trained to look for threats wouldn't be tipped off to your presence either. It was peon-craft for beginners. Executive Services personnel weren't ninja; they were inconsequential. As I had bubbled to Katrina on day one, Executive Services got to go everywhere and learn how everything worked. What I didn't appreciate was that was how Counter-Intelligence worked too. From what I wedged out of Rosette, Counter-Intelligence had never uncovered a successful internal conspiracy. They had ferreted out multiple peripheral programs meant to gather information on Havenstone, but no Amazon had been critically compromised; which meant several Amazons had been blackmailed yet gone to ES before doing any damage. Rosette appreciated that fanatic devotion, but she'd never hold complete faith in it. Her job was vigilance. (What is really going on?) The third barrel was the real unhappy news. For all their illegal activities, Havenstone was not the Sinaloa Cartel. There were not a global criminal organization that invited international law enforcement scrutiny. So why did they devote so much time and energy to security? They weren't alone in the shadows of world-wide civilization. At the top of the pile was the Illuminati. They were a hydra controlled by a ruthless, cutthroat conclave; membership uncertain. They were a Darwinian meritocracy until the top tier of leadership, where a group of smaller secret societies and families monopolized the real influence. Their biggest strength, and weakness, was that most of the people in the organization didn't even know they were part of the Illuminati. After that was a mishmash of groups with different abilities that made rating them difficult. The Condottieri were rather simple; they sold mercenaries and weapons to anyone with the coin with the sideline of promoting conflict by any means necessary. The Nine Clans; that sounded familiar; were assassins in the truest sense of the word. Hashshashin, Ninja, Thuggee, Black Lotus, Coils of the Serpent, Brotherhood of the Wolf, the Black Hand, Cult of the Jaguar and the Ghost Tigers. They were not just murder for hire, but murder to advance their cause. Harmonious existence was bad for business, so they stirred up rivalries and conflict in every corner of the globe. The Egyptian Rite Masons sounded sublime. They weren't. They may have been a secret order older than the Amazons, claiming descent to the days of Imhotep. The Egyptians were the oldest enemy of the Illuminati. The Egyptian Rite's goal was a global autocratic government, were the Illuminati wanted a capitalist oligarchy in charge of global commerce; with the Illuminati pulling all the strings. The Egyptian Rite were not restricted to Egypt anymore; membership was open to all races and genders. The Earth and Sky Society were not New Agers. They were the descendants of Genghis Khan and were devoted to the reincarnation of the Greatest World Conqueror of all time. Before tossing them into the rubbish bin of bad ideas, know that Genghis was the largest single genetic contributor (via rape) to the human gene pool since the mystical Eve. To be a member you had to have a genetic link to ole Genghis. The Seven Pillars of Heaven were an ancient Chinese Secret Society out for; you guessed it; World Domination. To be a true member of this group you had to be Pure Han Chinese and a man, or bound to one. Needless to say, Havenstone and the Seven Pillars did not get along. The final bit of information; these groups were what was left of the Great Secret Societies; the survivors. Havenstone's place in all of this chaos was complicated. By mid-5th century BCE, the Egyptians were aware of the Amazons. The Amazons were not causing problems for the Egyptians, so they parted on decent terms and that was that. By the first century ADE, the political landscape had changed. Amazons had penetrated Roman society and brought Latin houses into their structure. Amazingly, the Egyptians contacted the Amazons again, figured out the Amazons only wanted co-existence so co-existence they got. In the late 4th century, the Amazons returned the favor. The Amazons told the Egyptians something horribly bad was coming across the Eurasian steppes and the Egyptians better batten down the hatches. A few decades later, the Huns were pressing on the Roman Empire's frontier. What is not generally know is that in the ranks of Hunnish horde were the Sarmatians, successors to the Scythians, who had allied Amazons in their ranks. This gave the Amazons, thus the Egyptians, contacts on both sides of the Roman-Attila conflict. By the mid-5th century the two secret societies parted ways once more. Their relationship had been useful, but not close. From the Amazons viewpoint, it was the equivalent of getting good gossip at the fish market. The Egyptians appreciated the intelligence, but wanted, and didn't get, military assistance in propping up the Roman Empire. For the Amazons, the fall of the Western Roman Empire was the trigger for a massive Diaspora. A few houses decided to tough it out in Western Europe and its packs of warring Germanic tribes. Others travelled to Egypt and from there, down the Nile to Ethiopia and Central Africa. A third group travelled farther East than ever before, eventually settling in Southern India. Of course, the World never stands still. In the late 8th century, the Illuminati was founded as a mercantile society trying to restructure the shattered Western and Central European economies. It turned out that there was a major pass over the Alps between eastern Italy and southern Germany that was a safe transit region. The Illuminati decided to seize it. The Egyptians popped up, revealed to the infant Illuminati that they didn't want them to do that, but were ignored. The Egyptians were out to rebuild European civilization, which meant, in their eyes, you didn't go around butchering those who were restoring law and order. The Egyptians went to the mountain pass and warned the Amazons there what was coming their way. The Illuminati convinced a local Lombard warlord that the pass would be a nice addition to his territory and off he went. Two months later, their bully boy hadn't returned. Neither had any of his men. Never ones to retreat from failure, the Illuminati sent another force and those guys were never seen again as well. This time the Egyptians showed back up to warn the Illuminati that those people whose land they'd been trying to steal were sick of their meddling and were coming to settle matters. Would the Egyptians help the Illuminati deal with this threat, now that it was out of the mountains? The Egyptians politely declined stating 'better the sitting stone you know than the rolling one that sets things around it on fire'. The Illuminati fled from their first base and that is the reason why they hate the Amazons and Egyptians to this day. Mind you, the Illuminati had no idea who lived in that mountain pass at that time. A few decades after the incident, the Amazons relocated northward. Being good stewards over their lands had given up unwelcome rewards; namely people came to them seeking sanctuary. Amazons can be rather cold-hearted. That does not mean they kill you for knocking on their door. When the number of refugees became too great, the houses voted for migration over slaughter. The Amazons travelled to the Black Forest, dispersing from there, and left the people behind to become known as the Swiss. Everywhere, Europe was tough for the Amazons in the Middle Ages. Heavily male-dominated Germanic cultures in the North, Islamic culture in the South, piracy in between and an epidemic of warfare all around. It was in Sub-Saharan Africa where the Amazons prospered the most. There, migrating populations worked in their favor, as did the style of warfare generally practiced. Perversely, the increase in the East African Arabic slave trade worked in the Amazon's favor. Not only could they 'liberate' captured populations; males for breeding and women for recruits; it encouraged local tribes to temporarily ally with the Amazons to fight off the slavers. The Subcontinent turned out to be a mixed bag. In the South, Amazons prospered and grew in numbers and houses. The problem was that they became too strong. Normally they would have spread out, but Eastern India proved more hostile than acceptable and further East looked like a crap-shoot. China didn't look welcoming at all. So, the Indian Amazons were caught up in a series of wars when Northern powers tried to move South and the Southern lords were in some serious need of aid. The issue was there were multiple players in the shadows pulling the strings. One day, the Egyptians came knocking. The Egyptians knew the Amazons well enough to not try to draft them into their cause. They simply told the Amazons who the key players were and what they were trying to do. Why would they do this? It was obvious. Amazons existed for two reasons; live free and make baby Amazons. Those other asshole Secret Societies were threatening both of those goals. Warfare is doubly hard on a female population and women spending years in combat aren't making babies. Take into account that during this time period a massive amount of the world's population lived in India. Add to that the Amazon numbers were respectively tiny (invisible) and Every Secret Society they were fighting didn't think much of women. A few thousand gurgling last breathes later and two of India's oldest Secret Societies were gone, or eviscerated. Why had they left the other, Islamic, secret society alone? The Islamic society operated in the populous North, not the jungle-covered South. Why did they leave the Amazons alone? The Amazons exhibited a shocking capacity for violence. The Muslim group was a 'secret' Secret Society. The Amazons were a 'hidden/don't screw with us' Secret Society. A side effect of the war in India was the creation of another Secret Society; the 9 Clans. They weren't nine back then, but thanks to the Amazons and Egyptians, this East Asian group picked up the Thuggee and, within a century, the Hashshashin. Things were about to get even more interesting. For the Amazons in India, life existed off the beaten path so it took a year for the Amazons to realize those 'dirty little men' who had shown up in some western Indian ports were, in fact, Europeans; in a European-built ship. They didn't know Portuguese, but they knew Latin and with a little bit off effort, they got an updated history of Europe. Amazons had been meeting regularly every thirty years, or so, to choose the next High Priestess and exchange notes. These meeting did not include studies of technological, political, or social improvements. Stealing the twenty-first ship to show up, the Amazons sailed home; Europe, that is. They stopped off in East Africa to spread the good news then, upon landing, went to tell their European sisters that their pilgrimages were no longer a matter of torturous overland travel. They could use nifty ships like these instead. With that came even better news; some Genoese, nut-job, failure of a mathematician had discovered a brand new land and they were going to check it out. The decision was made. The Indians were going back home. Their Europeans sisters were going to 'acquire' some instructions on how to sail a ship then 'obtain' some ships and divide them up among the three strongholds. Europe would be heading to the west, Africa would sail around the Cape of Good Hope (not yet named that), back toward Europe to link up their communication network (and in time, bump into Brazil), and India would head east to the South-east Asian archipelago, sailing around the hostile Asian kingdoms. Hopefully, the fleet sailing west and the one heading east would meet one day. Unfortunately, North and South America stood in the way of that dream. The 'little' hitch in this plan was who those ships belonged to. Nearly half the commerce of Europe at the time was either controlled, or influenced by, the Illuminati. The Amazons were running off with their equipment and profits; whoops. A cherry on top to that 'whoops' was that the Illuminati were only starting to come out of a bloody war with the Condottieri. The Condottieri had started out as a business venture/strong arm of the Illuminati. In classic Illuminati fashion, the leaders of the Condottieri didn't know precisely who they were working for. In fact, they thought they were independent. When the Illuminati yanked that leash, it snapped and the blood-letting began. The Illuminati had more money than the Pope and the subtle ability to call upon the kingdoms of the Mediterranean World. What did the Condottieri have? A small cadre of loyal, professional fighting men and the best strategic and tactical minds in the West; the ones the Illuminati had recruited into the Condottieri in the first place. Whoops yet again. The Illuminati had every resource under the Sun. The Condottieri knew they were screwed, but they'd been in screwed up situations before and battled through. They needed to stay alive until the path to victory presented itself. Re-enter the Egyptians and the 9 Clans (still not 9 yet). The Egyptians? The Egyptians made a butt-load of money on the silk and spice trade's overland routes. The Western Europeans/Illuminati were about to cut them out of that. The Egyptians needed time to reposition themselves. The revolt of the Condottieri was a gift from the Divine and suddenly the mercenaries had funds and ships. The 9 Clans? The Illuminati was a 'Does it All' organization. If the Illuminati won, who would need assassins? This was class warfare, pure and simple. Even with three-on-one, the Illuminati fought back and fought well. The Amazon predations were not the deciding factor in the war. It wasn't even their war. Soon enough, the Amazons were buying their own boats and going elsewhere. The Illuminati doesn't forgive, or forget. For some reason, they took the Amazon thefts personally, despite its negligible impact. Maybe it was that all the other players were regionally invested while the Amazons seemed to be dog-piling them. The fact that Amazons had existed in Europe for nearly 2500 years either didn't occur to them, or they didn't care. Flash forward to the start of the 20th century. Through the discrete use of marriage-assassination, land grabs and the basic lawlessness in the Western United States, rural South America, Australia and the islands of Southeast Asia, the Amazons had grown vastly in numbers and economic influence. The Egyptians come knocking once more. Unlike past encounters, they were bringing an offer of alliance. The Illuminati controlled key assets in the British Empire and were using those chokeholds to eliminate their rivals. This was not news to the Amazons. Their holdings in India and the Dutch East Indies had been under pressure of the Illuminati for a century. Ever since the Illuminati nearly ground out the Thuggee (one of the 9 Clans), the Egyptians and Amazons have been constantly harassed. This was not the first warning the Egyptians had brought. The Amazons hadn't want a war with the Illuminati and they certainly didn't trust the Egyptians. This time they agreed to go to war though. Why? Two things; totally unrelated. First, the Illuminati and the Seven Pillars of Heaven had agreed to carve up Asia. Amazons lived in Asia and they were no man's chattel. Secondly, the Women's Rights movement was in full swing. The Amazons had nothing to do with it. Those were outsider females. What interested the Amazons were the legal ramifications of Women's Equality. The Amazons were poised for a massive increase in their financial footprint. With the Illuminati out of the way, or at least, preoccupied, they could seize assets and have time to fortify before they could be attacked. Women's Equality would allow this to take place. Basically, the Amazons were going to exploit the blood, sweat and tears of women to advance their agenda. From all accounts, the only groups that recalled the Amazons last foray into Secret Society politics were the Amazons and Egyptians. Certainly no one had enlightened the Condottieri. They started smacking around some Amazon bases in Europe and unleashed 'Hell on Earth'. With the help of the Egyptians, they got to it in Amazon fashion. A General of the Condottieri and his family were eating at a Naples eatery when five women dresses like nuns walked in and shot up him, his entire family plus some bodyguards. When the response team showed up, they killed them too. A few police were added to the obituary column as the Amazons escaped. Welcome to Amazon warfare. The Condottieri were furious over such a public breach, as well as the losses. They swore a vendetta. The 9 Clans happily informed the Condottieri that a 'War of Extermination' was the Amazon default setting. The Condottieri were not afraid; not yet. See, there was another secret society called La Solidaridad. Working on intelligence from the Illuminati, La Solidaridad overran an Amazon compound in Argentina. They thought it would be funny to take the survivors as sex slaves. Maybe the Illuminati was experimenting to see just how pissed-off Amazons could get. Maybe La Solidaridad hadn't read their Homer, especially those parts concerning Ancient World vengeance. It took the Host six months to start things rolling then the carnage began. They made damn sure the men knew they were being hunted by women. They weren't there to out-macho the men, or make a point. Every night, they attacked the men and their families in the cities and towns. For safeties sake, La Solidaridad retreated to their country estates. Huge mistake. A good number of them had to have hunted at some point in their lives. How they missed being 'flushed out into the open' was beyond me. Out in the countryside, there was nowhere to hide. Walls meant little because Amazons were incredibly fit and trained to fight at night. Most of the families the Amazons killed. They were the lucky ones. The survivors? By using a new Edison device, they took some home movies of the fates of those men. The Amazon's favorite tactic was to shove lit sticks of dynamite in the men's asses then steer them toward the closest river. One guy actually made it. His relief didn't last long. The Amazons had done something to turn the normally safe caiman population into rabidly aggressive swarmers. Bitches; insanely, sadistic bitches. In eighteen months, La Solidaridad had ceased to exist as an organization and never recovered. The Illuminati used that time wisely to beat down the Egyptians, Earth and Sky, and the 9 Clans, aided by the Seven Pillars. Having concluded their first order of business, the Amazons sent their home movie to the Condottieri. It wasn't mercy toward the Condottieri. I was psychological warfare. The Amazons needed the Condottieri off-balance so they could go after their real enemy. It seemed the Illuminati had instructed La Solidaridad on how to 'intimidate' the Amazons; through rape, torture and enslavement. Specifically, it was Cáel O'Shea who set the tragedy in motion; Granddad. Beyond Granddad being impossibly fucking old, he had possessed some seriously out of control animosity where Amazons were concerned. Before the Amazon's could implement their hunt, the 9 Clans intervened. The Illuminati had been giving them real problems and they saw a way to gain some breathing space. Had the Amazons and 9 Clans been in communication, the World might be a very different place today. Instead, the heir to the Austria-Hungarian throne was wacked by the Black Hand, some Serbian numbskulls took the fall and the rest of us got World War I. Oddly enough, this one murder accomplished the goals of the 9 Clans, Amazons, Egyptians and Earth and Sky Society. The British Empire still stood, but was wrecked. China was much worse off than that. Before the Amazons could gain their vengeance, the Egyptians negotiated a cease-fire between groups. The Amazon Council was furious yet unwilling to fight the Illuminati alone. They kept down their bile; and waited. In the post-War period, the Amazon/Illuminati feud ate much of their resources (probably the Egyptian's intentions all along). A truly dark side of this struggle was the Amazon support for the Nazis. Did the Amazons switch course? Yes, but not for the reasons most people would think. Jews, gypsies, communists and homosexuals going into camps didn't worry them one bit. What did? Let's go back in time to those women in the Swiss Alps who headed north. A great many of them went North then East; to places like Poland, Belarus, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia. It wasn't so much a matter of whimsy as one of terrain and population. All the best farmland was in western Germany, the Low Countries and France. That's where the Germanic peoples settled. Behind them, to the East, were the Slavs. The Slavs had three things the Amazons liked; low population density, weak social hierarchies and crappy land. That meant they could live in relative isolation, not be subject to an all-powerful king and not be inundated with migrating hordes wanting to steal their dank swamps, deep forests and isolate meadows. Sometime in early 1939, right after the Third Reich snatched up Bohemia, some Amazon augur decided to open up Hitler's Mein Kampf to see what was going on i.e. to see when Hitler would get around to jumping on England; the whole reason the Amazon were supporting him. What she found out was bad, bad, bad! The genocide of a bunch of people they could care less about? Not a problem. Invading the Slavic lands? What? Russia/Soviet Union hadn't been the big foe in WWI and they certainly were not Germany's greatest enemy at the moment; Britain was! Drang Nach Osten? That was an undefined migration of Germans back into Slavic lands that ended over 600 years ago? Their Eastern European sisters were in grave danger from a lunatic. The common sense response (for Amazons) was to kill the Hitler. They couldn't get close, so they took their problem to their old allies, the Egyptians and 9 Clans. Those two saw nothing wrong with the way things were developing. The Amazons swallowed their pride and went to the Illuminati who seemed rather enchanted with the idea of the fascists and communists annihilating one another. They had no way to safely approach the Soviets. Pulling their sister houses out of Eastern Europe was no longer an option; the other Secret Societies would be looking for that and try to figure out where the Amazon home bases were. The Amazons decided to make a fight of it. They were not going to charge panzers with spears. No, they started setting up caches of supplies and weapons in the most inaccessible places imaginable. The hope was that as Nazi Germany was grinding Communist Russia to dust, they could smuggle out their people in the chaos to Sweden then points west. The problem was WW II didn't work out that way. Great Britain got spanked at Dunkirk and Poland, France, Belgium, Denmark, the Netherlands, Luxemburg and Norway all surrendered to the Nazi blitzkrieg. Then the Germans invaded Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union. Yugoslavia went under, but the Soviet Union didn't fall. Much to the Amazon Council's horror, resistance units began to interact with the local Amazons in an effort to improve their mutual survivability. Tales of mysterious female fighter, appearing to slay their enemies then disappearing into the wilderness filtered to both the Stavka (Russians) and SOE (British). The SOE discovered an answer to the mystery in mid-1942, by way of the fledgling US OSS. The Americans 'found' three female Army recruits who volunteered for such a mission. A month later, the partisan bands with those agents found the 'Forest Women' and all the lights came on. Unknown to the public World, the Amazon Council decided that the best hope for their kinswomen was to bring down the Nazis and ride out the Allied conquest. All of that might have been a happily little footnote except for what happened next. Hundreds of Amazons fought; no surprise; yet they didn't fight alone this time. Men and women of the local populace fought side by side with these lethal warriors. They shared battle plans, food, fire and medical care. That huge cultural barrier created over two and a half millennia began to erode. They bled together and were forced from time to time to place their lives in each other's hands. They witnessed one another's courage and sacrifice. They watched them bury their dead, nurture their young and weep at their pain. Whenever things looked darkest, the Amazon would turn to their partisan partners and say with utmost confidence 'we have survived worse; so can you'. The seminal event happened on the night of February 17th, 1944. For two years, the fractured, wounded women that are ever-present wherever there is war began to attach themselves to the Amazon bands. At first they were little more than annoyances. In time, the Amazons tried to turn these women into something 'useful'. Later, a few earned the right to follow the Amazons into battle. On that February night, two ladies were inducted into House Živa. This was hardly the first time outsider women were brought into the Host, but this circumstance was unique; induction in the middle of a war, having proven themselves in battle before their now-sisters. From that action; not the last in that conflict; was born the concept of the 'Runners'. With the end of WWII, the Amazons emerged more powerful than ever. The three strongest groups in the United States were the Egyptians, Illuminati and the Amazons. The Amazons profited the most; having started with the lowest profile and having infiltrated both the government and business sectors during the war effort. Using the Freemasons, the Egyptians reaped great benefit from the US war effort too. Always forward-looking, the Egyptians helped the Amazons as well. Still, not everything was rosy. For the Public World, World War II ended in September of 1945. That was barely a blip in the Secret Societies' radar. The calamity came on the 10th of December 1949. Using their pawns in the Chinese Communist Party, the Seven Pillars had re-unified China and were back on the world stage. Earth and Sky and the 9 Clans were dealt a setback. A fourth secret society involved in the Chinese struggle was absorbed by the 7 Pillars. The problem was that all the societies were locked in a bitter struggle yet devastated and over-extended. The 9 Clans, fearing the ratcheting up of Cold War intelligence-gathering services by multiple national governments asked for a global truce. The Amazons were dangerously exposed and over-extended. The Illuminati decided this was their time to strike and nothing could deter them. Into this backdrop, came the news to the Amazons that they had serious genetic issues. That led to the First Directive; the recruitment of 'Runners' as an established program as well as the explosion of what I knew as Executive Services. In a truly bizarre twist, U.S. and Soviet agents found themselves engaged in cat-and-mouse games with European NATO agents. Amazons had penetrated the proto-CIA during the war in an effort to reach their European sisters. In Eastern Europe, many of those partisans went over to the Communists when the Soviets overran their countries and looked favorably upon their erstwhile allies from the War. They couldn't match the influence that the many of the other secret societies possessed. Instead they pulled upon existing, personal relationships. I worked with a negative result of those days; Desiree, or more accurately, Desiree's parents. I was also walking with the final resolution of that crisis. The Secret Societies proved they could work just as fast as the UN. In three decades they had resolved nothing and were spending more and more time on damage control. Three events converged. The Illuminati had figured out the full-blooded Amazons were dying out so they knew they could win a game of attrition. The rest of the groups were coming to the conclusion that wiping out the Amazons was the easier course of action. The Amazons had, without a doubt, located the leader of the Illuminati, Cáel O'Shea. O'Shea was in sight of his goal; the extermination of the Amazons; when a lone Amazon got to him first. O'Shea's death sent titanic shockwaves through the Illuminati. There was a scramble for the top spot, fear over how much the Amazons knew about their inner workings, and how the other secret orders would take this bit of news. The Illuminati recoiled from the event, agreed to a truce and that led to the protocols that kept Brianna from dragging me off; gunshot wounds and all. That had been the state of affairs for the last thirty years. Again, the World had not stood still. China was an economic powerhouse, the EU grew stronger, and wars of political ideology had been replaced by religious-based terrorism. The Amazons were at a critical juncture in their history. The 'New' Directive was their best chance at staving off extinction and the Houses were fighting it kicking and screaming. The First Directive wasn't being implemented properly. If nothing changed, the Amazons would be dragged under by the weight of their own bigotry. But wait! There was this idiot with no conception of history getting in the way of Amazon extinction; the decline toward oblivion that six murderous factions were waiting for. In this epic there were no 'friends', only 'allies of convenience'. The Egyptians weren't buddies. They simply preferred others to fight their battles for them. The Amazons fit that bill nicely, but if they were dying out, the Egyptians would be more concerned in filling the Amazon void than mourning over the Host's grave. The Illuminati and Seven Pillars were enemies. Though there was little animosity between the Earth  and  Sky and the Amazons, the E and S were based on perpetuating the legacy of the World's greatest rapist. The 9 Clans were the 9 Clans and their business was all about the precise application of death. They had no friends and if they pretended to be your friend, it was only so they could position themselves to kill you. It was only business. They rarely played with debts, obligations and vendettas. Still, if a member of the 9 Clans said they owed you, it was worth the assassin's weight in Iridium. As a bonus, the 9 Clans were gender-neutral. Outside of the Amazons, they had been using females in their numbers the longest. Because of this, the 9 Clans tried to interact with the Amazon using women from their own ranks, minimizing the sexual tension between the groups. The Condottieri had also began recruiting women into their ranks over the past twenty years. Their leadership was still all-male with the added complications of the unresolved Naples killings and the brutal destruction of La Solidaridad. Also, while the Amazons were not business competitors, they didn't employ the Condottieri either. All these micro-wars had been very good for the Condottieri, allowing them to build up quite a stable of talent and a huge war chest. If the Amazons recovered, the global map would change. How so? Madi and Rhada weren't from Cleveland, but from India where unresolved crimes against women were too common. Palli Chandra, the VP of International Finance and Ngozi from my sparring match were from Central Africa and I'd gathered from

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ExplicitNovels
Cáel and the Manhattan Amazons: Part 18

ExplicitNovels

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 18, 2024


If you cannot compromise; Challenge! In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Every person is alone. That is the definition of Free-will.” The gift from Grandpa that keeps on giving. I almost miss not killing him myself." "That man was an eternal foe of the Amazons, Cáel. His death was necessary for peace with the Illuminati, thus peace with all the other factions," Pamela related. I began laughing. "So my misogynistic family heritage comes from my Mother and my misandristic lineage comes from my Father," I clued Pamela in. She found it to be hilariously ironic too. "We still have to be careful," Pamela nudged me. "After all, your Grandfather had plans for your body. Whether we choose to believe it was to be a vessel for your Grandfather's essence; or, if you prefer, he put something in your Mother's DNA that, when combined with the machinery he used to store his memories, would bring him back to life; Cáel O'Shea always was thinking three steps ahead." "Why didn't you kill me when you figured this out?" I stared at her. "You hold the fate of House Ishara inside of you," Pamela smiled warmly. "Besides, I like you. No one really understands me like you do. Everyone else thinks I have a sick sense of humor." "I wish you had been my Grandmother," I nodded. "Wait; wait," Pamela held me back from continuing. "Because if I had been your Grandmother, you would have known to avoid a nut-ranch like Havenstone." "Are you like my psychic twin?" I teased her. She was right, of course. "I had a twin brother," Pamela turned sad. "I have always wondered what path his spirit traveled once they took him to the cliffs." "The fact that you still recall him with empathy speaks volumes for you, Pamela," I hugged her. "I felt the same way, you know," Pamela drew comfort from my warmth. I was uncertain of her meaning. "When they told me what happened to boys; I couldn't accept it. Their reasoning rang hollow and I saw their denial of their own blood to be self-defeating." "I have always wanted to believe my brother waits for me in the Hall of Ancestors so I can finally see his face and tell him I'm sorry that I was the one that was spared," she confessed. "You weren't spared, Pamela," I comforted her. "You had children and grandchildren so that way your brother will have grand-nephews and great grand-nephews whose actions are recorded in the deeds of your house and their names inscribed in the roster of the Host." "That's my hope anyway," I added. "Let it be so," she whispered.  (A Step back in time: that Weekend, between Oneida and Nicole) The weekend;  I'd had plenty of relaxing sex over the weekend, bonded with Oneida somewhat while we biked Saturday morning, had sex with Gael, junior of House Bendis (the woman who let me borrow her phone so I could invite Buffy, Helena and Desiree to my little induction ceremony), then had a late afternoon date with Nikita. Escorting Yasmin and her son to the airport for the start of her Havenstone training after dinner was unsettling. The boy, Braulio, seemed worried, Yasmin was glad to see me, really glad to see me then finished if off by commenting that she could tell 'something had changed'. I affirmed her hunch without going into the details. As Yasmin's mood improved, so did her son's. I wished her luck. She told me I'd need it more. Late Saturday night I was invited to a party by Libra. Brooke showed up date-less (she wasn't jumping into a new relationship) so she glommed onto me; us. Marla and Libra had a huge phone fight about her (Marla) not being 21 yet, thus not invited to the party. Felix was there having reconnected with Gina because he had both a glib tongue and an awe-inspiring sexual arsenal. Felix's attempts to recoup any ground with Brook failed miserably. She had her own bitterness toward Trent, her memory of me handing her panties under an outdoor cafe's table as a trophy Felix had taken the night before and displayed openly in my office, and my own masculine support to draw strength from. Felix and I did not verbally, or socially, spar. He accepted the verdict of our first contest and, for all his faults, he acknowledged that my victory had worth and obeyed his conscience on the matter. If anything, he was visually more respectful than ever before. I wasn't his equal; no man and definitely no woman was; yet I was now a competitor he would have to give his very best to defeat. Sunday morning had been just me and Odette. We'd cuddled on the sofa, watched some TV and then I took her to Havenstone for time in the pool. I kept the overly-aggressive Amazons at bay while getting Odette used to the idea of regular exercise; hanging out with Timothy and I required greater endurance than her sedentary youthful stamina provided. An early afternoon invite to a 'pick-up' basketball game at the community, two-court, outdoor lot with Jason, the bar-back from the Yuppie bar, brought me back in contact with Katy Lee Baker, aka Delivery Girl. Odette tagged along. It also brought me in contact with the local 'wild-life'. A Latin King clique was starting to operate in the area and Jason's crew were the native inhabitants who took exception to this. We played for about half an hour were everyone learned I was a big, fat liar. I was actually good at basketball, despite my earlier claims at ignorance. The Kings showed up, drove off the younger teens playing on the other court. A few more of those jokers showed up and it was now 'our turn' to make space. That went over like a shit brick. The Kings outnumbered us a good two-to-one, but Jason wasn't backing down. I was struggling to convince Jason that discretion was the better part of valor when some of the new Latin King arrivals tried to play with a few of the local ladies who had come down to watch their menfolk pull off their shirts and get sweaty. Poor Odette; she had been in the company of so many powerful, confident and lethal women she'd forgotten she wasn't one. A King grabbed Katy Lee's breast. Odette hit the asshole in the stomach, put a shin to his nuts and finished him off with grabbing his head and driving it into her upward moving knee, dropping him like the sack of shit he was. But wait, he had five buddies. Poo was being served up and the electric switch was about to be flipped. "I'll be back to help in a moment," I growled to Jason as the gang members jumped Odette. Katy Lee and a slightly older woman rushed to Odette's aid. The Kings didn't ignore my approach, peeling off two to 'deal with me'. They really shouldn't have hit Odette because now I was angry. The feces hit the rotary wind machine. With their last shows of bravado, I lay into the closest bastards. The sixteen year old was hesitantly pulling out his 32 caliber ACP while reconsidering his poor life choices as I hit his buddy so hard he went airborne, two teeth and a fountain of blood coming from the ruin I'd made of his face. Gun guy was next. I clamped my left hand on his right, gun-toting wrist then drove my knee into his elbow. The elbow snapped upward with a sound reminiscent of a car backfiring. His screams drowned out the thud of his gun dropping to the court surface. For the three remaining Latin Kings I was closing with, a terrible social reality came crashing in. Gangs rely on several tools to exert power; a propensity for violence, illegal finances, a fierce reputation, and superior numbers. By the look on my face, they discovered that their numbers didn't bother me in the least. I knew exactly who they were and didn't give a damn. My desire to destroy them was motivated by something far stronger than any currency, and I was clearly better at this whole violence thing than they seemed to be. They had their pride and the fidelity with their gang, plus their intimidation tactics were going wrong so fast, they couldn't process the disaster quickly enough to alter course. These guys were not professional warriors by any stretch of the imagination. 'Warriors'; perhaps. 'Professional'; definitely not. Their ability to rapidly adapt to a changing situation was woefully under-developed. In gang hand-to-hand combat, you bunch up your members, overrun a foe and beat him to the ground. Fighting a practitioner of Brazilian jujutsu, standing close to one another is the Last thing you want to do. I was a whirlwind of destruction, fed by the understanding that Jason's bunch needed me back real soon. The asshat who tried to use a knife on me got his hand pinned to the court for his audacity. I repeat, threatening Odette had infuriated me. At center court, Jason had his hands full and then some. The Latin Kings had the edges in both numbers and ferocity. The only other hometown boy holding his own was this thick, solid Puerto Rican guy named Bennie; the rest were in trouble. I started with the four-on-one stomp-down on one of Jason's friends; I'd missed the guy's beat down. My inner Amazon was leading the charge. Unlike all my previous encounters, I was intentionally causing pain. I wasn't trying to drive them off, or render them hors de combat. No, my desire was to strike terror in their hearts, inflicting suffering in order to eradicate my foes' resolve to fight. Knees snapped, bones broke, faces were stomped into the court and internal organs ruptured. Even my erstwhile allies were aghast at the wickedness with which I treated our enemy. "Ah; Cáel; are you okay?" Jason mumbled when the last King went down. He'd have a shiner on his left eye soon and his lip was split and bleeding. I hadn't come through unscathed either. Havenstone had seriously upped my pain threshold. Jason wasn't really asking about my physical well-being anyway. I had to get ahead of this; predicament. "Let's get this trash off the court," I commanded. The boys hesitated until Jason picked up one of my semi-conscious victims. "Come on 'Pendejo', leave and don't come back," Jason yanked the man up and began shoving him toward the gate he and his buddies had arrived by. The rest of Jason's friends joined in and we began cleaning up the place. One gangster decided he was too hurt to be moved. I'd rammed his shoulder into the goalpost, breaking his collarbone. He was crying about the pain he was in. I pulled him up. He was around 7 foot 2 inches tall and 275 pounds. I wrapped my hands around his thick bull neck and slowly raised him up off the ground. His face was reddening, his good hand was trying to break my hold and his legs were flailing about in the open air. [In Spanish] "Pain, Asshole? No, pain is me having to come back here and hunt you and your vermin buddies down," I seethed. "I don't live here. These men are not my friends. You touched my girl and I am God Almighty when it comes to defending those of my household. I am not in a gang. I am not a criminal. If you, or your gang, come within a block of this place, I will become Death. Today, there are too many witnesses. This is your reprieve; your moment of grace," I snarled. "Use it wisely. It will not happen again," I finished in a fury. I dropped him to his wobbly feet, catching his good hand before he fell over. That act of compassion after my dire threat confused the guy. "Go," I returned to English. The rest of the Latin Kings walked, stumbled, were dragged from the court. "Who are you again?" Bennie inquired. "Cáel Nyilas," I grinned. "I'm an Aerospace Engineer working on the feasibility of having hamsters running on their wheels being used to recharge batteries on manned flights to Mars." "Hamster wrangling has to be one tough profession," Katy Lee snickered as she and Odette came up. "Come on now," Jason winced as he licked his lip. "Brawling is about panic, anger and the management of those two forces," I told them. "I was the only one in this fight in control of himself, so my actions look out of proportions to what really happened." "They were kicking our asses," Bennie chuckled. "Not as bad as you guys think," I consoled them. "None of you guys ran, or curled up in a ball. That allowed me to pick my fights. I clearly have more hand-to-hand combat experience, but none of that would have mattered had you guys freaked out." There was some truth in what I said. Had they panicked, I would have grabbed Odette and Katy Lee then fled as well. Since they toughed it out, and the Latin Kings exerted virtually no command and control, I was able take on the gang members in small, bite-sized chunks. My training and experience took care of the rest. This also made the somewhat traumatized ballplayers feel proud about the cuts and bruises they'd received. Now they realized they had 'won' this scuffle, they'd played their parts courageously and had all been instrumental in a successful stratagem. The fact that none of them knew that when the blows were raining in it meant nothing. The women who'd come out to watch the game then witnessed the beat down knew their men had been brave, taken their licks and routed their enemies. Martial ardor, baby! 'Defending' a woman does not diminish her. It increases her odds of dealing with insults and threats in a positive manner. Women who look down on women who use their pussies to better themselves are being stupid. It is the equivalent of having a complete toolbox and only using the hammer. The women were going to give up some level of sex to reward the men. The men, in turn, had an example of the kind of behavior that would get them what they wanted; defending your ladies equated to feminine reward. That did not mean penetration; life was far more complex. It did mean she would hang around you, talk to you and trust you (most likely more than she should). Guys still had to seal the deal, figure out what she wanted and deliver. That had been the working arrangement between men and women for most of the last 80,000 years. What I didn't know at the time was that I was being spied upon, that this spy called Buffy; my 'spear and shield'; and Buffy would gather up some Security Detail chicks. Why would SD help? Some morons had tried to murder the Head of House Ishara and that wasn't something the Amazons would tolerate. That Latin King clique was contemplating revenge. They were about to get schooled by the Grand Mistresses of that brutal and unforgiving Art form. I could never let Odette know. After all, to her they were someone's sons, brothers and husbands. My chilling rationalization was that, for whatever reason, the Latin Kings had redefined themselves as carnivores, preying on the rest of mankind. They should have studied what nature was really like. Predators had predators of their own. They'd been big, bad caimans, snatching all that came to the water's edge. In nature, the caiman was careful because jaguars hunted and ate caimans. In the urban jungle, there were things far more dangerous than gang-bangers living in the shadows that jealously guarded their spot as apex predator. Odette and I exited the field. I'd have to catch Katy Lee another time. I was to get the bad news from Ulyssa and her sister about the death in her family. Timothy, Odette and I worked out some more as Odette and I took turns relating the fight to Timothy. He reminded us that the Latin Kings were a powerhouse in the city as well as nationwide. Nicole called at the point I was ready for bed and the rest was family history. (Monday morning) I locked my bike up as normal. When I saw the security guards eyeing me funny, I grew cautious. "Is there a problem?" I asked the woman scanning my ID. She was fearfully hesitant. "Wait, are you worried that I'm pissed about Friday morning?" "We were only doing our jobs, Cáel of Ishara," she told me. "Oh," I chuckled. "So that is what is bothering you." I smiled at the group. "Of course you were doing your jobs. I would have been surprised if you hadn't and I'm certainly not angry about what went down. You acted in defense of Havenstone and I never saw it any other way." That gave them some relief. My next problem. "Has anyone from the Security Detail called about me?" I asked. "I don't see anyone here to pick me up this morning." "I'll call them," she offered. The answer was that they weren't expecting me, but I could come down if I desired. That was promising. My ID card worked for the lower levels now. Walking past the Armory was intriguing; in that they barely noticed me. In the prep room for the shooting range there was; nothing. No guns for me to try out, or even look at. I went to the firing range looking for one of my 'friendly' SD ladies. They were all giving me the cold shoulder. Naomi told me why; Constanza. The SD were very angry with my interference in justice for Constanza versus Pamela. Since Naomi had been there when the entire incident went down, I didn't laugh in her face. I got coldly furious instead. If I wanted a firearm, I could go to the Armory and check one out, so that's what I did. The guards there weren't helpful either. Inside was; well; everything. I called up SD and asked them to send an armorer to help me make some selections. Ten minutes later, the lady had still not arrived. That made me laugh. They were tit-for-tatting the wrong guy. Glasses and ear protection came first. I left the Armory with my weapon of choice for the day, a full bandolier and a crate of ammo. I could see the SD chick's guarding the Armory eyes bug-out. I grinned and headed for the shooting range. They surreptitiously called somebody. Knowing that, I hurried myself along, passing straight through prep room for the firing line. I was a man on a mission. See, I could be a raging prick when I wanted to be. Those SD babes should have talked with any number of the Amazons who already knew me. I had made it clear; make my life difficult if you wished, but accept whatever payback I could imagine. Respecting House Ishara wasn't even a question. For pummeling me over Constanza, they were about to get a whole new kind of Righteous Pricking, courtesy of the house they refused to treat with equality. An Amazon finished firing off a clip for her personal defense weapon and was checking her pistol's slide action. "Excuse me," I said as I stepped up. She was about to scream something. Most likely 'stop!' Since I had no intention of complying, I didn't wait; or stop. For me, I was suddenly wondering what the precise blast radius of a 40 mm grenade was. I pulled the trigger anyway. I swear by Ishara-turned-Ishtar, I hit that target right in the 10 ring. The explosion the grenade caused when it hit the back wall rendered my claims moot. Even with eye and ear protection, I could barely hear anything because of the ringing echo, or see anything because of the dust. The flashing yellow lights and klaxons going off indicated something bad had happened. Bad wasn't done yet. I walked to the next stand where the Amazon had ducked down while she oriented herself to the threat. "Good morning," I yelled at her. Then I aimed and prepared to squeeze off my second round. With all the dust in the air, I could barely make out the outline of the target I was shooting at. Accuracy at this point was unnecessary. This bitching toy seemed to kill everything. Third station; third shot and the Amazons were starting to figure out what was going on. Some moron was firing a grenade launcher within an indoor firing range. Before the fourth shot they figured out it was me. Now those bitches had a problem. The lead Amazon tried to get my attention despite my constant attempts to ignore her. I resolved the issue by tapping my six-shot bang-bang and indicating I had two shots left; and I used them. Only when I stopped to reload did the ladies screw up the courage to exhibit some kind of physical resistance. Naomi pulled off my ear protection. "What are you doing?" she shouted at me. She wasn't being rude. All our ears were ringing. "I'm being left to my own devices, you 'failures' to every concept of loyalty, respect and faith," I replied to the entire group. "Constanza called House Ishara an abomination, insane and diseased," I spat out my hate. "I spared her life when I should have had her stricken from the roles of her house and butchered her like some beast. I showed mercy and this is how the Security Detail responds? Congratulations, you have earned my contempt." "But why are you using a grenade launcher; indoors?" Naomi struggled to understand. "Oh," I smirked. "Because I can. I'm superior to all of you here so I can do what I want and you have to suck it up. I am the Head of a First House so none of you have a choice. Every one of you chose to show me no respect and, out of respect for your lack of respect, you get no respect." They were trying to figure how to work around that when I upped the ante. "I'm also going to direct the other members of House Ishara to come down here at random times and fire off grenades, use flamethrowers, or; how about tear gas; tear gas sounds good." "That would degrade the readiness of the Security Detail," the first Amazon protested. "Not my problem. Take your complaints to Elsa or Saint Marie. Make sure to start your complaint with exactly how you behaved toward me; but use the names Beyoncé, Ursula, Katrina, or Messina instead of mine," I glared. "Now excuse me. I have a box full of high explosives to work through." And off I went. There were 25 shooting lanes. I had fired off my 22nd grenade when Elsa showed up. "Cáel of Ishara, why are you destroying this training area?" she inquired calmly. "Working through a crate of grenades. I thought that would be obvious," I joked. "Is there something wrong we should talk about?" Elsa was keeping her anger in check. "Your underlings were chronically disrespectful. Since positive reinforcement failed; being nice to any of your weakling-bullies was counter-productive; I decided to employ the stick treatment," I met her gaze. "Stop destroying the firing line; please," Elsa ground out through clenched teeth. "You are right," I nodded. "I need to take a few of these upstairs to the pure-blood gym. There is a lot more damage I could do there. This place is already a mess." Desiree's voice broke the silence. She must have come in with Elsa. "Cáel," Desiree yawned. "How do you want to resolve this crisis? That doesn't involve setting off seismic sensors all over New York City, that is?" "Hmmm; fine, every member of the Security Detail is to write a romantic poem then read it aloud to a 'Runner' while at that 'Runners' workstation," I invented a punishment. "Ishara is the Goddess of Love as well as Oaths. It is a fitting tribute to her that romantic verses from the heart be created and spoken aloud." "It is also fitting that the recipients be 'Runners', since it will unite them in both their appreciation of love and their anger with me for throwing my weight around like every other Full-Blood who thinks they are better because of some quirk of birth," I concluded. "It will be done," Elsa intoned. That part of the matter was settled. Elsa looked at my grenade launcher. An unhappy sigh escaped my lips as I handed it over. "Elsa, I'm coming for weapon's practice again tomorrow," I informed her. Now I was going to burn off some time in the pool then get to work, or so I hoped. I hadn't gotten away with this because I was Cáel Nyilas, or the Head of House Ishara. I got away with it because Elsa didn't want to see the faces of the Council when she explained what her people had done. The Council members treating me like offal was their business. Other Amazons deciding that they could treat ANY member of the Council that poorly wouldn't fly; reference to the fate of Leona. Why had SD treated me poorly? Constanza. If they repeated my conversation with Constanza that cost her an eye, the outcome was known by all. Constanza would cease being an Amazon right before she died. I made it to Katrina's office four minutes before seven only to find Katrina absent while Daphne, Brielle and Pamela were hanging around. Dora and Fabiola followed me in. Everyone made it before the deadline, Katrina last of all. As Katrina began the meeting, Brielle left. Pamela and Katrina ignored one another. My work review was far better than normal. I'd sold Anthrax to a terrorist cell, but it had turned out to be a mislabeled Anthrax antidote instead, so all was good. Daphne was trying to figure out how her glowing report over my efforts had been so misconstrued. My assigned boss for the day was Rosette, one of the senior members of Executive Services. "Katrina, I need a moment of your time; in private," I requested as the meeting broke up. "As Cáel, or the Head of House Ishara?" she asked. "Neither," I replied. She waved the others away with Tigger shutting the door. Pamela remained seated. Katrina shot me a look concerning Pamela's presence. "I don't control her," I shrugged. "She hangs around me for her own reasons." Katrina nodded. I walked to the edge of Katrina's desk, put my palms on its cool surface. "Katrina, I am the Grandson of Cáel O'Shea, I met Brianna O'Shea earlier this morning, she knows who I am and was brought to town because some genetic research done on me." "Brianna knows where I work and who I work for, as in you. Pamela said the word 'Protocols' and Brianna backed off, but I'm sure she wants to see me again. I've warned my Dad about what happened and to destroy everything associated with my Mom. By the way, Brianna looks exactly like my Mother did when I was first born; exactly," I emphasized. Had the situation not been so completely screwed up, I would have treasured the steamrollered look on Katrina's face. "She is with something called the Illuminati. She doesn't know about me and House Ishara. When Brianna tried to figure how this Protocol/Truce thing involved me, Pamela stonewalled her," I added. "Pamela, I can understand Cáel not immediately bringing this to my attention," Katrina's cool exterior reasserted itself. "He doesn't know what's going on. You do." "I didn't feel inclined to do your job for you, Katrina," Pamela gave a rapier-thin smile. "Besides, you are part of the brain trust that sent him home Friday night cloaked in ignorance, not I." "Cáel," Katrina turned back to me. "How did you meet Brianna O'Shea?" "I met a lawyer, screwed her to multiple orgasms in the Women's room of some bar, met her again plus her lawyer buddies and Sunday night she called me to her downtown office to screw her into enlightenment; which I did," I sighed. "She was working on a case involving DNA ownership, which is oddly germane to my current predicament," I grinned. "Cáel, we need you to report to medical for more testing," Katrina ordered. "I apologize, but House Ishara does not believe that would be in its best interest so Cáel must decline," I nodded. "Will there be anything else?" Will battled Will to no outcome. She nodded and I left. Pamela ghosted along behind me. Rosetta intersected my path and off we went. I was given no clue as to my assignment; no surprise. I texted Buffy: 'Nothing new happening. Pick me up at 5:30 Wed. morning.' That meant there was no new development on the committee to help House Ishara pick 'Runners'. I had played nice. Katrina and Hayden had dodged me on Friday afternoon. This morning, she owed it to me to show some kind of progress. That wasn't what she offered. I had made a concession, they refused to reciprocate, so now I was free of any obligation to consider their wishes. I wanted more 'Runners' and come Wednesday morning, I was adding twenty. Working with Rosette (and Pamela) was a triple-barreled experience. Errands were the largest bulk of our time, but the rest was other mundane tasks of the most basic sort. Within the workload were instructions in the craft of being unseen. Executive Services was more than laundry and daycare; it was about not disrupting the lives of clients. A side benefit of that was learning how to move through any group and not be memorable; to not give off the subtle clues that you were an outsider. Not only could a group of executives hold a conversation without an ES person disrupting their trains of thought, people trained to look for threats wouldn't be tipped off to your presence either. It was peon-craft for beginners. Executive Services personnel weren't ninja; they were inconsequential. As I had bubbled to Katrina on day one, Executive Services got to go everywhere and learn how everything worked. What I didn't appreciate was that was how Counter-Intelligence worked too. From what I wedged out of Rosette, Counter-Intelligence had never uncovered a successful internal conspiracy. They had ferreted out multiple peripheral programs meant to gather information on Havenstone, but no Amazon had been critically compromised; which meant several Amazons had been blackmailed yet gone to ES before doing any damage. Rosette appreciated that fanatic devotion, but she'd never hold complete faith in it. Her job was vigilance. (What is really going on?) The third barrel was the real unhappy news. For all their illegal activities, Havenstone was not the Sinaloa Cartel. There were not a global criminal organization that invited international law enforcement scrutiny. So why did they devote so much time and energy to security? They weren't alone in the shadows of world-wide civilization. At the top of the pile was the Illuminati. They were a hydra controlled by a ruthless, cutthroat conclave; membership uncertain. They were a Darwinian meritocracy until the top tier of leadership, where a group of smaller secret societies and families monopolized the real influence. Their biggest strength, and weakness, was that most of the people in the organization didn't even know they were part of the Illuminati. After that was a mishmash of groups with different abilities that made rating them difficult. The Condottieri were rather simple; they sold mercenaries and weapons to anyone with the coin with the sideline of promoting conflict by any means necessary. The Nine Clans; that sounded familiar; were assassins in the truest sense of the word. Hashshashin, Ninja, Thuggee, Black Lotus, Coils of the Serpent, Brotherhood of the Wolf, the Black Hand, Cult of the Jaguar and the Ghost Tigers. They were not just murder for hire, but murder to advance their cause. Harmonious existence was bad for business, so they stirred up rivalries and conflict in every corner of the globe. The Egyptian Rite Masons sounded sublime. They weren't. They may have been a secret order older than the Amazons, claiming descent to the days of Imhotep. The Egyptians were the oldest enemy of the Illuminati. The Egyptian Rite's goal was a global autocratic government, were the Illuminati wanted a capitalist oligarchy in charge of global commerce; with the Illuminati pulling all the strings. The Egyptian Rite were not restricted to Egypt anymore; membership was open to all races and genders. The Earth and Sky Society were not New Agers. They were the descendants of Genghis Khan and were devoted to the reincarnation of the Greatest World Conqueror of all time. Before tossing them into the rubbish bin of bad ideas, know that Genghis was the largest single genetic contributor (via rape) to the human gene pool since the mystical Eve. To be a member you had to have a genetic link to ole Genghis. The Seven Pillars of Heaven were an ancient Chinese Secret Society out for; you guessed it; World Domination. To be a true member of this group you had to be Pure Han Chinese and a man, or bound to one. Needless to say, Havenstone and the Seven Pillars did not get along. The final bit of information; these groups were what was left of the Great Secret Societies; the survivors. Havenstone's place in all of this chaos was complicated. By mid-5th century BCE, the Egyptians were aware of the Amazons. The Amazons were not causing problems for the Egyptians, so they parted on decent terms and that was that. By the first century ADE, the political landscape had changed. Amazons had penetrated Roman society and brought Latin houses into their structure. Amazingly, the Egyptians contacted the Amazons again, figured out the Amazons only wanted co-existence so co-existence they got. In the late 4th century, the Amazons returned the favor. The Amazons told the Egyptians something horribly bad was coming across the Eurasian steppes and the Egyptians better batten down the hatches. A few decades later, the Huns were pressing on the Roman Empire's frontier. What is not generally know is that in the ranks of Hunnish horde were the Sarmatians, successors to the Scythians, who had allied Amazons in their ranks. This gave the Amazons, thus the Egyptians, contacts on both sides of the Roman-Attila conflict. By the mid-5th century the two secret societies parted ways once more. Their relationship had been useful, but not close. From the Amazons viewpoint, it was the equivalent of getting good gossip at the fish market. The Egyptians appreciated the intelligence, but wanted, and didn't get, military assistance in propping up the Roman Empire. For the Amazons, the fall of the Western Roman Empire was the trigger for a massive Diaspora. A few houses decided to tough it out in Western Europe and its packs of warring Germanic tribes. Others travelled to Egypt and from there, down the Nile to Ethiopia and Central Africa. A third group travelled farther East than ever before, eventually settling in Southern India. Of course, the World never stands still. In the late 8th century, the Illuminati was founded as a mercantile society trying to restructure the shattered Western and Central European economies. It turned out that there was a major pass over the Alps between eastern Italy and southern Germany that was a safe transit region. The Illuminati decided to seize it. The Egyptians popped up, revealed to the infant Illuminati that they didn't want them to do that, but were ignored. The Egyptians were out to rebuild European civilization, which meant, in their eyes, you didn't go around butchering those who were restoring law and order. The Egyptians went to the mountain pass and warned the Amazons there what was coming their way. The Illuminati convinced a local Lombard warlord that the pass would be a nice addition to his territory and off he went. Two months later, their bully boy hadn't returned. Neither had any of his men. Never ones to retreat from failure, the Illuminati sent another force and those guys were never seen again as well. This time the Egyptians showed back up to warn the Illuminati that those people whose land they'd been trying to steal were sick of their meddling and were coming to settle matters. Would the Egyptians help the Illuminati deal with this threat, now that it was out of the mountains? The Egyptians politely declined stating 'better the sitting stone you know than the rolling one that sets things around it on fire'. The Illuminati fled from their first base and that is the reason why they hate the Amazons and Egyptians to this day. Mind you, the Illuminati had no idea who lived in that mountain pass at that time. A few decades after the incident, the Amazons relocated northward. Being good stewards over their lands had given up unwelcome rewards; namely people came to them seeking sanctuary. Amazons can be rather cold-hearted. That does not mean they kill you for knocking on their door. When the number of refugees became too great, the houses voted for migration over slaughter. The Amazons travelled to the Black Forest, dispersing from there, and left the people behind to become known as the Swiss. Everywhere, Europe was tough for the Amazons in the Middle Ages. Heavily male-dominated Germanic cultures in the North, Islamic culture in the South, piracy in between and an epidemic of warfare all around. It was in Sub-Saharan Africa where the Amazons prospered the most. There, migrating populations worked in their favor, as did the style of warfare generally practiced. Perversely, the increase in the East African Arabic slave trade worked in the Amazon's favor. Not only could they 'liberate' captured populations; males for breeding and women for recruits; it encouraged local tribes to temporarily ally with the Amazons to fight off the slavers. The Subcontinent turned out to be a mixed bag. In the South, Amazons prospered and grew in numbers and houses. The problem was that they became too strong. Normally they would have spread out, but Eastern India proved more hostile than acceptable and further East looked like a crap-shoot. China didn't look welcoming at all. So, the Indian Amazons were caught up in a series of wars when Northern powers tried to move South and the Southern lords were in some serious need of aid. The issue was there were multiple players in the shadows pulling the strings. One day, the Egyptians came knocking. The Egyptians knew the Amazons well enough to not try to draft them into their cause. They simply told the Amazons who the key players were and what they were trying to do. Why would they do this? It was obvious. Amazons existed for two reasons; live free and make baby Amazons. Those other asshole Secret Societies were threatening both of those goals. Warfare is doubly hard on a female population and women spending years in combat aren't making babies. Take into account that during this time period a massive amount of the world's population lived in India. Add to that the Amazon numbers were respectively tiny (invisible) and Every Secret Society they were fighting didn't think much of women. A few thousand gurgling last breathes later and two of India's oldest Secret Societies were gone, or eviscerated. Why had they left the other, Islamic, secret society alone? The Islamic society operated in the populous North, not the jungle-covered South. Why did they leave the Amazons alone? The Amazons exhibited a shocking capacity for violence. The Muslim group was a 'secret' Secret Society. The Amazons were a 'hidden/don't screw with us' Secret Society. A side effect of the war in India was the creation of another Secret Society; the 9 Clans. They weren't nine back then, but thanks to the Amazons and Egyptians, this East Asian group picked up the Thuggee and, within a century, the Hashshashin. Things were about to get even more interesting. For the Amazons in India, life existed off the beaten path so it took a year for the Amazons to realize those 'dirty little men' who had shown up in some western Indian ports were, in fact, Europeans; in a European-built ship. They didn't know Portuguese, but they knew Latin and with a little bit off effort, they got an updated history of Europe. Amazons had been meeting regularly every thirty years, or so, to choose the next High Priestess and exchange notes. These meeting did not include studies of technological, political, or social improvements. Stealing the twenty-first ship to show up, the Amazons sailed home; Europe, that is. They stopped off in East Africa to spread the good news then, upon landing, went to tell their European sisters that their pilgrimages were no longer a matter of torturous overland travel. They could use nifty ships like these instead. With that came even better news; some Genoese, nut-job, failure of a mathematician had discovered a brand new land and they were going to check it out. The decision was made. The Indians were going back home. Their Europeans sisters were going to 'acquire' some instructions on how to sail a ship then 'obtain' some ships and divide them up among the three strongholds. Europe would be heading to the west, Africa would sail around the Cape of Good Hope (not yet named that), back toward Europe to link up their communication network (and in time, bump into Brazil), and India would head east to the South-east Asian archipelago, sailing around the hostile Asian kingdoms. Hopefully, the fleet sailing west and the one heading east would meet one day. Unfortunately, North and South America stood in the way of that dream. The 'little' hitch in this plan was who those ships belonged to. Nearly half the commerce of Europe at the time was either controlled, or influenced by, the Illuminati. The Amazons were running off with their equipment and profits; whoops. A cherry on top to that 'whoops' was that the Illuminati were only starting to come out of a bloody war with the Condottieri. The Condottieri had started out as a business venture/strong arm of the Illuminati. In classic Illuminati fashion, the leaders of the Condottieri didn't know precisely who they were working for. In fact, they thought they were independent. When the Illuminati yanked that leash, it snapped and the blood-letting began. The Illuminati had more money than the Pope and the subtle ability to call upon the kingdoms of the Mediterranean World. What did the Condottieri have? A small cadre of loyal, professional fighting men and the best strategic and tactical minds in the West; the ones the Illuminati had recruited into the Condottieri in the first place. Whoops yet again. The Illuminati had every resource under the Sun. The Condottieri knew they were screwed, but they'd been in screwed up situations before and battled through. They needed to stay alive until the path to victory presented itself. Re-enter the Egyptians and the 9 Clans (still not 9 yet). The Egyptians? The Egyptians made a butt-load of money on the silk and spice trade's overland routes. The Western Europeans/Illuminati were about to cut them out of that. The Egyptians needed time to reposition themselves. The revolt of the Condottieri was a gift from the Divine and suddenly the mercenaries had funds and ships. The 9 Clans? The Illuminati was a 'Does it All' organization. If the Illuminati won, who would need assassins? This was class warfare, pure and simple. Even with three-on-one, the Illuminati fought back and fought well. The Amazon predations were not the deciding factor in the war. It wasn't even their war. Soon enough, the Amazons were buying their own boats and going elsewhere. The Illuminati doesn't forgive, or forget. For some reason, they took the Amazon thefts personally, despite its negligible impact. Maybe it was that all the other players were regionally invested while the Amazons seemed to be dog-piling them. The fact that Amazons had existed in Europe for nearly 2500 years either didn't occur to them, or they didn't care. Flash forward to the start of the 20th century. Through the discrete use of marriage-assassination, land grabs and the basic lawlessness in the Western United States, rural South America, Australia and the islands of Southeast Asia, the Amazons had grown vastly in numbers and economic influence. The Egyptians come knocking once more. Unlike past encounters, they were bringing an offer of alliance. The Illuminati controlled key assets in the British Empire and were using those chokeholds to eliminate their rivals. This was not news to the Amazons. Their holdings in India and the Dutch East Indies had been under pressure of the Illuminati for a century. Ever since the Illuminati nearly ground out the Thuggee (one of the 9 Clans), the Egyptians and Amazons have been constantly harassed. This was not the first warning the Egyptians had brought. The Amazons hadn't want a war with the Illuminati and they certainly didn't trust the Egyptians. This time they agreed to go to war though. Why? Two things; totally unrelated. First, the Illuminati and the Seven Pillars of Heaven had agreed to carve up Asia. Amazons lived in Asia and they were no man's chattel. Secondly, the Women's Rights movement was in full swing. The Amazons had nothing to do with it. Those were outsider females. What interested the Amazons were the legal ramifications of Women's Equality. The Amazons were poised for a massive increase in their financial footprint. With the Illuminati out of the way, or at least, preoccupied, they could seize assets and have time to fortify before they could be attacked. Women's Equality would allow this to take place. Basically, the Amazons were going to exploit the blood, sweat and tears of women to advance their agenda. From all accounts, the only groups that recalled the Amazons last foray into Secret Society politics were the Amazons and Egyptians. Certainly no one had enlightened the Condottieri. They started smacking around some Amazon bases in Europe and unleashed 'Hell on Earth'. With the help of the Egyptians, they got to it in Amazon fashion. A General of the Condottieri and his family were eating at a Naples eatery when five women dresses like nuns walked in and shot up him, his entire family plus some bodyguards. When the response team showed up, they killed them too. A few police were added to the obituary column as the Amazons escaped. Welcome to Amazon warfare. The Condottieri were furious over such a public breach, as well as the losses. They swore a vendetta. The 9 Clans happily informed the Condottieri that a 'War of Extermination' was the Amazon default setting. The Condottieri were not afraid; not yet. See, there was another secret society called La Solidaridad. Working on intelligence from the Illuminati, La Solidaridad overran an Amazon compound in Argentina. They thought it would be funny to take the survivors as sex slaves. Maybe the Illuminati was experimenting to see just how pissed-off Amazons could get. Maybe La Solidaridad hadn't read their Homer, especially those parts concerning Ancient World vengeance. It took the Host six months to start things rolling then the carnage began. They made damn sure the men knew they were being hunted by women. They weren't there to out-macho the men, or make a point. Every night, they attacked the men and their families in the cities and towns. For safeties sake, La Solidaridad retreated to their country estates. Huge mistake. A good number of them had to have hunted at some point in their lives. How they missed being 'flushed out into the open' was beyond me. Out in the countryside, there was nowhere to hide. Walls meant little because Amazons were incredibly fit and trained to fight at night. Most of the families the Amazons killed. They were the lucky ones. The survivors? By using a new Edison device, they took some home movies of the fates of those men. The Amazon's favorite tactic was to shove lit sticks of dynamite in the men's asses then steer them toward the closest river. One guy actually made it. His relief didn't last long. The Amazons had done something to turn the normally safe caiman population into rabidly aggressive swarmers. Bitches; insanely, sadistic bitches. In eighteen months, La Solidaridad had ceased to exist as an organization and never recovered. The Illuminati used that time wisely to beat down the Egyptians, Earth and Sky, and the 9 Clans, aided by the Seven Pillars. Having concluded their first order of business, the Amazons sent their home movie to the Condottieri. It wasn't mercy toward the Condottieri. I was psychological warfare. The Amazons needed the Condottieri off-balance so they could go after their real enemy. It seemed the Illuminati had instructed La Solidaridad on how to 'intimidate' the Amazons; through rape, torture and enslavement. Specifically, it was Cáel O'Shea who set the tragedy in motion; Granddad. Beyond Granddad being impossibly fucking old, he had possessed some seriously out of control animosity where Amazons were concerned. Before the Amazon's could implement their hunt, the 9 Clans intervened. The Illuminati had been giving them real problems and they saw a way to gain some breathing space. Had the Amazons and 9 Clans been in communication, the World might be a very different place today. Instead, the heir to the Austria-Hungarian throne was wacked by the Black Hand, some Serbian numbskulls took the fall and the rest of us got World War I. Oddly enough, this one murder accomplished the goals of the 9 Clans, Amazons, Egyptians and Earth and Sky Society. The British Empire still stood, but was wrecked. China was much worse off than that. Before the Amazons could gain their vengeance, the Egyptians negotiated a cease-fire between groups. The Amazon Council was furious yet unwilling to fight the Illuminati alone. They kept down their bile; and waited. In the post-War period, the Amazon/Illuminati feud ate much of their resources (probably the Egyptian's intentions all along). A truly dark side of this struggle was the Amazon support for the Nazis. Did the Amazons switch course? Yes, but not for the reasons most people would think. Jews, gypsies, communists and homosexuals going into camps didn't worry them one bit. What did? Let's go back in time to those women in the Swiss Alps who headed north. A great many of them went North then East; to places like Poland, Belarus, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia. It wasn't so much a matter of whimsy as one of terrain and population. All the best farmland was in western Germany, the Low Countries and France. That's where the Germanic peoples settled. Behind them, to the East, were the Slavs. The Slavs had three things the Amazons liked; low population density, weak social hierarchies and crappy land. That meant they could live in relative isolation, not be subject to an all-powerful king and not be inundated with migrating hordes wanting to steal their dank swamps, deep forests and isolate meadows. Sometime in early 1939, right after the Third Reich snatched up Bohemia, some Amazon augur decided to open up Hitler's Mein Kampf to see what was going on i.e. to see when Hitler would get around to jumping on England; the whole reason the Amazon were supporting him. What she found out was bad, bad, bad! The genocide of a bunch of people they could care less about? Not a problem. Invading the Slavic lands? What? Russia/Soviet Union hadn't been the big foe in WWI and they certainly were not Germany's greatest enemy at the moment; Britain was! Drang Nach Osten? That was an undefined migration of Germans back into Slavic lands that ended over 600 years ago? Their Eastern European sisters were in grave danger from a lunatic. The common sense response (for Amazons) was to kill the Hitler. They couldn't get close, so they took their problem to their old allies, the Egyptians and 9 Clans. Those two saw nothing wrong with the way things were developing. The Amazons swallowed their pride and went to the Illuminati who seemed rather enchanted with the idea of the fascists and communists annihilating one another. They had no way to safely approach the Soviets. Pulling their sister houses out of Eastern Europe was no longer an option; the other Secret Societies would be looking for that and try to figure out where the Amazon home bases were. The Amazons decided to make a fight of it. They were not going to charge panzers with spears. No, they started setting up caches of supplies and weapons in the most inaccessible places imaginable. The hope was that as Nazi Germany was grinding Communist Russia to dust, they could smuggle out their people in the chaos to Sweden then points west. The problem was WW II didn't work out that way. Great Britain got spanked at Dunkirk and Poland, France, Belgium, Denmark, the Netherlands, Luxemburg and Norway all surrendered to the Nazi blitzkrieg. Then the Germans invaded Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union. Yugoslavia went under, but the Soviet Union didn't fall. Much to the Amazon Council's horror, resistance units began to interact with the local Amazons in an effort to improve their mutual survivability. Tales of mysterious female fighter, appearing to slay their enemies then disappearing into the wilderness filtered to both the Stavka (Russians) and SOE (British). The SOE discovered an answer to the mystery in mid-1942, by way of the fledgling US OSS. The Americans 'found' three female Army recruits who volunteered for such a mission. A month later, the partisan bands with those agents found the 'Forest Women' and all the lights came on. Unknown to the public World, the Amazon Council decided that the best hope for their kinswomen was to bring down the Nazis and ride out the Allied conquest. All of that might have been a happily little footnote except for what happened next. Hundreds of Amazons fought; no surprise; yet they didn't fight alone this time. Men and women of the local populace fought side by side with these lethal warriors. They shared battle plans, food, fire and medical care. That huge cultural barrier created over two and a half millennia began to erode. They bled together and were forced from time to time to place their lives in each other's hands. They witnessed one another's courage and sacrifice. They watched them bury their dead, nurture their young and weep at their pain. Whenever things looked darkest, the Amazon would turn to their partisan partners and say with utmost confidence 'we have survived worse; so can you'. The seminal event happened on the night of February 17th, 1944. For two years, the fractured, wounded women that are ever-present wherever there is war began to attach themselves to the Amazon bands. At first they were little more than annoyances. In time, the Amazons tried to turn these women into something 'useful'. Later, a few earned the right to follow the Amazons into battle. On that February night, two ladies were inducted into House Živa. This was hardly the first time outsider women were brought into the Host, but this circumstance was unique; induction in the middle of a war, having proven themselves in battle before their now-sisters. From that action; not the last in that conflict; was born the concept of the 'Runners'. With the end of WWII, the Amazons emerged more powerful than ever. The three strongest groups in the United States were the Egyptians, Illuminati and the Amazons. The Amazons profited the most; having started with the lowest profile and having infiltrated both the government and business sectors during the war effort. Using the Freemasons, the Egyptians reaped great benefit from the US war effort too. Always forward-looking, the Egyptians helped the Amazons as well. Still, not everything was rosy. For the Public World, World War II ended in September of 1945. That was barely a blip in the Secret Societies' radar. The calamity came on the 10th of December 1949. Using their pawns in the Chinese Communist Party, the Seven Pillars had re-unified China and were back on the world stage. Earth and Sky and the 9 Clans were dealt a setback. A fourth secret society involved in the Chinese struggle was absorbed by the 7 Pillars. The problem was that all the societies were locked in a bitter struggle yet devastated and over-extended. The 9 Clans, fearing the ratcheting up of Cold War intelligence-gathering services by multiple national governments asked for a global truce. The Amazons were dangerously exposed and over-extended. The Illuminati decided this was their time to strike and nothing could deter them. Into this backdrop, came the news to the Amazons that they had serious genetic issues. That led to the First Directive; the recruitment of 'Runners' as an established program as well as the explosion of what I knew as Executive Services. In a truly bizarre twist, U.S. and Soviet agents found themselves engaged in cat-and-mouse games with European NATO agents. Amazons had penetrated the proto-CIA during the war in an effort to reach their European sisters. In Eastern Europe, many of those partisans went over to the Communists when the Soviets overran their countries and looked favorably upon their erstwhile allies from the War. They couldn't match the influence that the many of the other secret societies possessed. Instead they pulled upon existing, personal relationships. I worked with a negative result of those days; Desiree, or more accurately, Desiree's parents. I was also walking with the final resolution of that crisis. The Secret Societies proved they could work just as fast as the UN. In three decades they had resolved nothing and were spending more and more time on damage control. Three events converged. The Illuminati had figured out the full-blooded Amazons were dying out so they knew they could win a game of attrition. The rest of the groups were coming to the conclusion that wiping out the Amazons was the easier course of action. The Amazons had, without a doubt, located the leader of the Illuminati, Cáel O'Shea. O'Shea was in sight of his goal; the extermination of the Amazons; when a lone Amazon got to him first. O'Shea's death sent titanic shockwaves through the Illuminati. There was a scramble for the top spot, fear over how much the Amazons knew about their inner workings, and how the other secret orders would take this bit of news. The Illuminati recoiled from the event, agreed to a truce and that led to the protocols that kept Brianna from dragging me off; gunshot wounds and all. That had been the state of affairs for the last thirty years. Again, the World had not stood still. China was an economic powerhouse, the EU grew stronger, and wars of political ideology had been replaced by religious-based terrorism. The Amazons were at a critical juncture in their history. The 'New' Directive was their best chance at staving off extinction and the Houses were fighting it kicking and screaming. The First Directive wasn't being implemented properly. If nothing changed, the Amazons would be dragged under by the weight of their own bigotry. But wait! There was this idiot with no conception of history getting in the way of Amazon extinction; the decline toward oblivion that six murderous factions were waiting for. In this epic there were no 'friends', only 'allies of convenience'. The Egyptians weren't buddies. They simply preferred others to fight their battles for them. The Amazons fit that bill nicely, but if they were dying out, the Egyptians would be more concerned in filling the Amazon void than mourning over the Host's grave. The Illuminati and Seven Pillars were enemies. Though there was little animosity between the Earth  and  Sky and the Amazons, the E and S were based on perpetuating the legacy of the World's greatest rapist. The 9 Clans were the 9 Clans and their business was all about the precise application of death. They had no friends and if they pretended to be your friend, it was only so they could position themselves to kill you. It was only business. They rarely played with debts, obligations and vendettas. Still, if a member of the 9 Clans said they owed you, it was worth the assassin's weight in Iridium. As a bonus, the 9 Clans were gender-neutral. Outside of the Amazons, they had been using females in their numbers the longest. Because of this, the 9 Clans tried to interact with the Amazon using women from their own ranks, minimizing the sexual tension between the groups. The Condottieri had also began recruiting women into their ranks over the past twenty years. Their leadership was still all-male with the added complications of the unresolved Naples killings and the brutal destruction of La Solidaridad. Also, while the Amazons were not business competitors, they didn't employ the Condottieri either. All these micro-wars had been very good for the Condottieri, allowing them to build up quite a stable of talent and a huge war chest. If the Amazons recovered, the global map would change. How so? Madi and Rhada weren't from Cleveland, but from India where unresolved crimes against women were too common. Palli Chandra, the VP of International Finance and Ngozi from my sparring match were from Central Africa and I'd gathered from

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ExplicitNovels
Cáel and the Manhattan Amazons: Part 17

ExplicitNovels

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 17, 2024


Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.”  I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry.  ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch

ExplicitNovels
Cáel and the Manhattan Amazons: Part 17

ExplicitNovels

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 17, 2024


Emergency Council Makes Bold Move.. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.”  I biked home, brushing a city bus and a BMW getting there. On the landing between the second and third floors I found an Amazon with baleful eyes; waiting. In front of my door was her psychic twin. ‘Can I get you and/or your cohort anything?' I politely inquired. Yesterday; the cold shoulder. ‘Thank you for the consideration. We will wait until our itinerary is clarified,' she nodded. I went in, catching the abrupt cut off of some 'O' talk. 'O', as in Odette and Oneida. They were on the sofa, half-turned to face each other when I walked in. Oneida stood and gave the standard Amazon respectful nod. ‘Oneida was all screwed up inside about last night in the Park, so I was explaining some of the basic tenants of BDSM to her,' Odette blithely blathered. ‘BDSM? What do you know about BDSM? I barely know about it and I've been having non-stop sex for years,' I exclaimed. ‘Cáel of Ishara, did you do those things to Rhada in an effort to fulfill her dreams?' Oneida desperately pleaded. Worse, it was spoken in English. ‘I can't talk about it,' I replied. ‘That is 'Cáel' for 'yes',' Odette intruded. ‘I began reading up on BDSM after you got the suspension rig,' was her saucy response to me. ‘Would you ever do that to me?' Oneida gave me those big doe-eyes as she sat down. No, she didn't want a rape fantasy. That kind of submission wasn't her thing. I paced around, stomped into the kitchen then back to the living room. ‘No Oneida, I would never do something like that to you,' I promised. ‘I like having sex; a whole bunch. I like the women I'm with to have a great time too.' ‘That means I figure out what really excites her and provide it because I normally want to have sex with that girl again,' I explained, neglecting the 'and again and again and again.' ‘Is it over between you two?' Oneida asked. She meant Rhada and me. ‘Oneida, did I ask you to come over today?' I countered. ‘Have I upset you?' Oneida's lower lip trembled. 'Yes' would make things so much easier. ‘No,' I lied. ‘Let's look at this from another angle. How would you feel if Paula showed up at your domicile unannounced? You walked in and there she was.' ‘Oh,' she stood up again. ‘I apologize.' At this moment, saying nothing meant she'd leave. I'm an idiot. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner?' I offered. It took a few seconds for Oneida to forgive herself enough to accept my suggestion. Me raping Rhada less than 24 hours ago? We'd deal with that later, or so she promised herself. ‘Okay; if it is not too much trouble,' Oneida nodded. In came the doom and gloom duo and we ordered some over-sized sandwiches from an Italian Deli two blocks away. After the two walked through my place (again, I was sure) and the food arrived, the bodyguards relaxed into a close proximity of human beings. The freakishness continued as Odette bonded with the Amazon killers with tales of my sexual exploits. At the same time, I romanced Oneida in half a dozen languages. Storming those gates was going to take more time than I normally gave a single sexual encounter. Oneida kissed me. She loved kissing me. She was ecstatic about kissing me. She made it real clear there would be not petting; yet. Penetration wasn't even on the (her) agenda. This didn't meant I was accepting her marching orders. I was far craftier than that. My plan was one of 'setting an example'. I stood up; we were sitting on the bench press seat, shot Odette a sexy look then went to the kitchenette. We got something; whatever it was wasn't important. The crucial activity was my surrounding Odette in my arms from behind. I kissed her neck, Odette wiggled her ass against my crotch and murmured happily. More kissing along the neck, ear and jawline ensued. Odette exhaled a happy breath, and twisted around in my grasp until we were face to face. An exhaustive French kiss finishing up with a few light pecks and led to us rubbing noses like Inuit. ‘Thanks buddy,' I smiled warmly at Odette. ‘She blue-balling ya?' Odette snickered. ‘Big time,' I muttered. Odette squiggled down my body then bit both my nipples through my shirt making me gasp. ‘That should do nicely,' Odette's eyes were alight and she was super-pleased with herself. She smacked my ass then returned to the living room. I returned to Oneida. After a few seconds, ‘Does it disturb you to be treated like that?' Oneida murmured. ‘Like what?' I sounded so innocent. Trust me; this is a crucial relationship tool. ‘Like; like we would treat one of our males,' she looked for my reaction. I laughed. ‘The critical difference is that I can say 'no',' I smiled. ‘Oneida, do you think the original Ash Men spent every moment not in battle, contemplating their place in the Universe?' Clearly, she had. ‘Believe me, men hunted, worked their crafts and chased female Amazons when they weren't eating, or sleeping.' ‘Warfare is an emotional undertaking,' I had read that somewhere. ‘You can believe that with the battle safely won, your ancestors and my ancestors fooled around. They sang songs, wrote poetry, and created artwork for the ladies they courted. They wanted the attention of the strongest, bravest and most courageous mates, just like your ancestors did.' ‘I think I do know something about the Ash Men you don't,' I prodded her. ‘What? I have studied them for many years,' Oneida was now more engaged. ‘What can you tell me about Vranus?' I asked. That stumped her. ‘I; nothing is written of his exploits,' Oneida admitted. ‘We know he was a young warrior for Ishara.' ‘Think about this, Oneida; Vranus was only twenty yet a member of the Host,' I started. She nodded. ‘He is shown with twin axes; no shield and no bow. That means he had to be very brave, rushing through the initial exchange of arrow fire and thrown spears to attack his enemy. His House probably directed him to large clumps of opponents, breaking their formations for the Host to exploit.' ‘That means he fought alone for several seconds until his accompanying Amazons could pick apart his foe,' I explained. ‘That must have been horrible,' Oneida frowned. ‘Not at all,' I protested. ‘He was trusted with a crucial task; to hold the enemy's focus so the faster moving Amazons could attack their foe from multiple directions at once.' ‘The Amazons of House Ishara must have been very proud of him,' I fluffed out the fantasy. ‘From what you saw from my two exhibition with twin axes, it is very tiring. Vranus had to have absolute confidence his sisters were coming for him. They trusted one another, thus fighting as one organic unit. It was a synergy that included the best of both genders.' That last bit confused her. ‘Back then, most of the Host would have been of the same genetic stock from the time of the First Betrayal. Short and fast. The males of the region they took over were taller; the local men being even taller than the local women. That means you give men heavier and longer weapons. Your people would have favored bows, light shields and short spears; ranged, or quick in and out tools.' Was any of that true? Not a history major, so I have no clue. ‘Many of the Host at the time rode horses yet there are also pictures of them forming battle lines,' Oneida enlightened me then her own eyes expanded. ‘Males are always shown with solid round shields while the Host; women had the oval wicker shields.' ‘Lacking stirrups, the Amazons may have used the men to grapple with the enemy then rode their horses around the flanks, dismounted and engaged their opponents from the rear; Amazon style,' I grinned. It was. Amazons were all about out-maneuvering and confounding their foes. The Amazons hadn't been callous with their males' lives. At one time, chosen females had held the center line. Over time, as males joined, it was practical to adapt the solid wooden shields of their opponents for their own males and put them in the place where their upper body strength and size were of best effect. The unknown older male with Vranus had probably held his place in the battle line dozens of times. I doubt he complained, or even thought to complain. Who would have taken his place? A smaller sister, aunt, or daughter? Had other males objected? Sure, the battle line in Amazon tactics was not the place of glory. The striking arm were the horse-riders. Countless times adversaries had spent the last minutes of their lives with the echoes of horses, hooves and female Amazon war cries seemingly all around them. Some wise old dead fucker once said 'defeat starts in the mind'. I wholeheartedly believed in that; except my version was 'having sex with me starts with my insidious nature'. ‘Defeat starts in the mind,' I stared intently into Oneida's eyes. Love poetry is a matter of emotional context, not actual words. I pulled Oneida to me, letting her straddle my lap because I desperately wanted her to understand my tortured soul. Grinding her vulva against my hard-on was totally accidental, as was our renewed French kiss and me grabbing two handfuls of her ass. There was no rushing of things. Oneida was a skittish mare and I had to keep her feeling safe despite her sexual peril. Any woman who bothers to get to know me knows I am not a complicated guy. Case in point: by the time Oneida was feeding me her left nipple, Odette already had the security types sweep my bedroom (again) then the three retreated to Timothy's room and shut the door. Were Oneida's guardians worried about Oneida's carnal violation? No, why would they? Amazons had dick on demand. Virginity didn't hold any religious significance for them; killing things did. With the speed and efficiency those other two Amazons made themselves scarce, I imagined they were happy that Oneida had stopped mooning over me and getting a good grip on reality. A righteous dicking was in the offing. Oneida's open eyed, opened-mouth countenance when she found herself naked on my bed with a naked me hovering over her was precious. That look always was. It did necessitate a question. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?' I whispered. My aroused cock brushed along her thigh. The question was a courtesy. The answer was always the same because girls want to have sex. They also want to believe they have a say in the process from beginning to end. I say 'believe' because sex done right is passion and passion is the rejection of reason. At some point in the seduction, intercourse becomes an avalanche. Logic can scream all it wants; the hormones are not listening. I slipped into Oneida's velvety liquid embrace. She gave up a sigh of relief. She'd made the jump into intimacy. Any other explanation for what was going to happen would have implicated me as a 'Player'; which everyone else thought I was. Oneida had this romantic ideal of me that no amount of evidence appeared to shatter. Personally, I was starting to dread ever going to her bedroom. I wasn't sure of her 'My Little Pony' comforter would be a turn-off for me. I had done in it on Pocahontas and The Little Mermaid, so odds were I'd pull through in the clinch. ‘I am not hurting you, am I?' I moaned. Said for emotional impact alone. If I was causing a girl pain, I would have stopped first. ‘No,' happy murmuring, ‘I'm wonderful.' The most powerful organ human's possess is the brain. Oneida was a 'talker'. She wanted to express her feelings during intercourse; not give to directions, but as an effort to increase her participation in the sex act itself. Slow, steady strokes followed, withdrawing my glans half way along her labia, moved up and down slightly then gradually pushed back in. Every entry held something new for her. I added to the process by tilting her thigh and leg forward so that my next penetration tantalized a whole new series of trigger points in her cunny. On the next pass, Oneida began her own experimentations, twisting and adjusting the angle of her hips as I worked my rod in and out. Oneida began crying. I wasn't upset and that didn't make me a callous bastard. She was shedding tears of joy and regret; joy because her first climax was in the offing; regret because she wish she had done this with me sooner. She had been a Havenstone employee so we hadn't done the deed. We still had to keep our liaison secret. Why? I'd think of something. The real reason was pure politics. I never knew what wacky dame hated another wacky dame for reasons I couldn't even get into, but I knew it would curtail my dating opportunities. I'd pay the price of deception later. What I couldn't take was being denied sex without having done anything wrong first. ‘Am I making you happy?' Oneida gasped. No flippancy here; romance was the key. ‘You demand things from me few other women do,' I replied breathlessly. I wasn't going to lie to her. Prettying up the truth was good enough and it made her happy. I also got something new; to her, not to me. She orgasmed. Whatever she'd been satisfied with before, I obliterated in a few quick, decisive strokes. Oh God; did she go off! It has happened to me before; the door being kicked in; just not in mid-orgasm. Guns being pointed at yours truly while the girl was in mid-scream was new. And Oneida was still carrying on and on. ‘I was trying to tell you!' Odette was screaming. ‘He does that to us all the time; please don't shoot him.' The whole 'girl screaming at me in Old Kingdom Hittite' was also new. My mentor preferred Minoan. ‘I have come back from Death,' Oneida rasped. Her skin was flushed deep red from her exertion, she had bathed us both in sweat and she was coming up with any form of vocalization from Goddess-knows where she had screamed for so long. She looked at me with love in her eyes; damn it. She looked and looked and looked and; finally noticed the two women at the foot of the bed. ‘Is; some; thing; wrong?' Oneida panted while gazing at her two guardians with worry.  ‘You may outrun your sins, but never forget that someone will pay the toll.' There was someone pounding on my apartment door. ‘Neighbor; door; I'm on it,' Odette called out. Seconds later the deadbolts clicked and the door opened. ‘Hello, Mr. Finnes.' ‘You God-damn Whore!' he screamed. ‘Where is that homo and his butt-buddy? The cops are on their way and this time you are all in the street.' He had a good head of steam on tonight. Slayer of Testicles #1 looked at Slayer of Testicles #2, nodded and left. ‘Who is this bitch,' Finnes got out. It was so wrong that I recognized the next sound. It was the barrel of a gun being inserted into a person's mouth. ‘Listen and listen carefully,' SoT#1 spoke softly. ‘You are going back to your hovel. If I get word, or even a bad premonition, that you are causing this apartment a hint of worry, I am going to come back and end you in a fashion the New York City's Coroner's Office will find memorable.' ‘I do not care if you have to puncture both eardrums to drown out the noise. I am not a compassionate person. In fact, I am considered sadistic by those who know me well. Now go back home, tell the police who show up this was all a mistake and give a prayer of thanks to whatever deity you grovel before that I didn't simply ram my firearm up your anus and decorate the ceiling in what passes for brains in your pathetic bone-sack of a body,' she menaced. There was a choking/gagging noise then the sound of heaving. ‘Mr. Finnes; are you okay?' Odette worried. As a wonderful counter-point. ‘Have you given me your seed?' Oneida asked hopefully. I was still hard. It had only been ten minutes of sex after all. I gently rocked my penis deeper in. ‘Oh,' she happily babbled. ‘Again?' SoT#2 questioned. I made a few more penetration cycles instead of speaking. ‘Do they train you in some sort of Sex Academy for this? Are there more males out there like you?' ‘Is having a viewing gallery a real damper on the mood?' I asked her while looking into Oneida's eyes. I was actually proud of Oneida for not sending the other woman away. It showed me she respected the woman's job. I also heard the apartment door shut. ‘Wow, your threat was nice and spooky,' Odette snickered. ‘Threat? Child, what do you think I do for a living?' SoT#1 asked. ‘You are one of those wacko, psycho-chicks Cáel Nyilas works with,' Odette was undoubtedly smiling. ‘Correct, I am one of those wacko, psycho-chicks;' SoT#1 left that hanging out there. ‘You weren't playing with Mr. Finnes, were you?' Odette grew quiet. Pause. ‘There is really a job which allows you to do that kind of stuff?' Pause. ‘Can I apply?' ‘This is not something you apply;' SoT#1 began, but then, ‘I guess if Cáel wants to; ‘ ‘Cool,' Odette was truly irrepressible. ‘If he does that, there will definitely be consequences and repercussions,' SoT#1 cautioned. ‘Oh, I think I had better stick with being his fuck-buddy,' Odette conceded. ‘Wise choice,' SoT#1 agreed. My bedroom door shut. SoT#2 had slipped out. Do you often have sex with an audience?' I teased Oneida. ‘Yes,' she answered matter-of-factly, ‘I do. Don't you?' ‘Now that you mention it;' and I got back to the pleasure that encompasses so much of my life. Sunday Night. ‘Cáel,' a voice purred over my phone. ‘Hey Nicole,' I greeted my lawyer not-quite a hook-up anymore. Also, unless you are Sure you know the female caller, don't take a gamble with the name. ‘So, do you have something going on tonight?' she queried. ‘Nope. My normal engagement had to cancel so I'm sitting back with some friends who do not appreciate the depth of my depravity,' I sighed. ‘Canceled?' She laughed. ‘On you? Have your recovered from the shock?' ‘Actually, they had a death in the family and had to go to South Carolina,' I explained. ‘Oh; sorry,' Nicole apologized. ‘Well, if you are feeling lonely and neglected, you could come by work and do me a favor.' ‘I am feeling neither lonely, nor neglected, but I am certainly missing you right now. Give me a half hour and I'll be there,' I promised. She thanked me and hung up. ‘Who is it this time?' Odette snickered. Man, I was becoming so used to her hanging around. ‘Nicole the lawyer,' I replied. I trekked back to my bedroom to prep. I opted for the 'Bad Boy' look; worn jeans, high-top tennis shoes (equally worn), my Plant Smashers t-shirt (Quebecois ska band; yes, I will road-trip to another country for sex) and my Bolingbrook bomber jacket. Yes, I was going to an Ivy League Law firm dressed like a carjacker. Every other male was going to be dressed in finely-tailored silk and I had to stand out. Since I couldn't outspend them, I was going to make them look like effete pussies by dressing like I just didn't care what anyone thought. I was coming over to screw Nicole and there would be no doubt about it. ‘Isn't that chick rich?' Timothy teased me. ‘Yeah. I'm packing the glow in the dark Trojans tonight; cause she's special,' I grinned. ‘Oh! I love those,' Odette squealed. She really needed to trust me less. I walked over, cupped her ears with my hand then kissed her on the forehead. I did the same to Timothy. His look suggested that I had best make a hasty exit before he kicked my ass. I caught a taxi a block away. It turned out he was from Qatar and he asked if I was sure about the address I gave him. I grinned then told him I could outrun 95% of the yPD so was feeling good about my chances. He snorted, countering with 'If you were an Arab, they'd shoot you.' Not to be outdone, 'I'd claim to be a Syrian anti-government protester; you know, because we all look alike to these Caucasians'. We laughed for a bit then he said he had a younger sister back in the homeland. I insisted I was immoral; a wicked man. 'Was I religious?' 'Only when it suited my purposes.' 'Would I consider converting to Sunni Islam?' 'Only if the girl was cute enough.' He showed me her picture; dammit, she had a really beautiful face. I got her name, his name and the name of his mosque. I considered it. Yahweh, Christ, Bacchus (wine, an orgy and 'bull' testicles; long story) and Jehovah all had reasons to barbeque my ass already. Why not add Allah to the mix, besides it being an incredibly stupid thing to do for a man in constant mortal peril like me? In theory, three of the four definitely had the possibility to be the same Omniscient and Omnipotent Galactic Being so the odds were I wouldn't get too much more screwed. I finished up my journey imagining Buffy in a burqa. That evolved into a vision of me being force-fed a burqa; in private; where no one could hear my muffled cries for help. Buffy; murdering me; made me horny. I am a sick puppy. ‘Buffy,' I called her as I paid the cabbie. ‘What; huh; are you okay, Cáel?' Buffy muttered. ‘Yes, I'm fine. I was dreaming of you and decided to give you a call,' I related in a sleepy voice. ‘Oh;' she sounded affectionate. ‘Yeah. In the dream you were murdering me. It was so romantic; so you,' I related. ‘Shit-for-brains, do you have any idea what time it is?' Buffy turned all savage in an instant. ‘Hmm; 11:45?' I offered up. ‘Call me this late again when it is not an emergency and your dream will become a reality,' she growled. ‘You know you sound so;' and she hung up on me. I called Nicole and warned her I was at her building, pursued by two FDIC investigators and could she please come and rescue me. She snickered, came down and retrieved me, but not before the yPD stopped by for a casual conversation and I hadn't even been standing there two minutes. In my neighborhood you were lucky if you saw a patrol car every thirty minutes and short of offering them some crack cocaine, cheap nookie, or shooting a gun off, they never stopped. Was I my normally fuck-wad self? No. I told the man/woman team the truth. Some upper crust weenies I worked with dragged me off to Yuppie Hell. I hooked up with a lawyer who I screwed repeatedly in the Women's bathroom and she was calling me for round 2. Second question (the first one was name/ID/reason for being in this part of town dressed like I was)? Was she paying me? 'No'. Was I practicing safe sex (female cop; married even)? 'Yes'. Was she the red-head at the door behind me? 'Yes she was and goodnight.' ‘What are you dressed like that for?' Nicole smiled. In her mind she already knew the answer; I had come here to screw her; raw and primal. ‘Ballroom dancing was not on the itinerary you gave me,' I smiled. We went inside. ‘My co-workers are still here,' she hinted seductively. ‘Whoa now!' I protested humorously. ‘I am not here to pull a train; girls only.' Nicole nearly fell over laughing. She was so embarrassed by me and my attire, she dragged me straight to the conference room 'her' team was working out of. Everyone else was eating. Two of the lawyers were clearly the top dogs; a man and a woman. The woman had a vague resemblance to one of the portraits I'd seen coming in; a legacy. The man screamed 'serial killer'. It probably made him one hell of a lawyer, but spooky to live with, or work for. The other nine people in the room were in two groups. Two were obviously paralegals. They dressed in what must have started out as clean, starched clothing from off the rack as opposed to tailored. The other seven were lawyers in their own dual set-up. My amateur guess was two different branches of law. This group was dressed in fine clothes now wrinkled from a long day's work, plus it was a Sunday. They were not at their best yet they were still better than most of what I had. The most endearing part was how they looked at me. Even the female contingent thought that I was trash. I had certainly given them the opportunity. Seriously, they should have paid more attention to Nicole, her intelligence, competence and tastes. Come on now; there was no way she'd bring some grease-monkey from Flatbush to her workplace. They needed to engage their brains and not their social bias. A murmur slithered through the crowd. Amusement and condescension were the clear messages shot my way. I imagine the poor soul who delivered the food got less crap because he/she was providing a tangible service. ‘Nicole, who is this?' the woman asked. Sex. Outside of her being a soulless cancer on the hopes and dreams of mankind, she was an alluring forty-something. ‘This is my friend Cáel;' Nicole began, both her arms wrapped around my right arm. ‘Cáel Belafonte,' I interrupted. You could tell who the trial lawyers in the room were. Their expressions told me they knew I was lying. ‘Fascinating Mr. Belafonte,' Mr. Serial-Killer droned on. ‘What do you do?' ‘I am an Ichthyologist,' I met his gaze. ‘I'm involved in a twenty year study to determine the cause for the reduction in the size of Tuna fish scales.' That had them stumped. ‘That sounds like yet another great waste of government funds,' a young male lawyer with more bravado than combat-sex experience fired off. ‘Oh,' I shrugged. ‘Smaller scales, smaller full-sized Tuna, a spike in tuna prices and an eventual world-wide restriction on Tuna fishing, similar to the one currently covering virtually all whale species. Now, I doubt you know which people will decide who the recipient of those lucrative Tuna contracts will be, but I do. By all means; mock what you don't understand.' ‘Government research project results will be in the public domain,' a woman joined the struggle. ‘Yes; and?' I asked in a bland tone. ‘Your research will be available to all kinds of commercial concerns,' male asshat grinned. ‘Your ability to show that you are as smart as any pre-law student must make someone, somewhere very proud,' I grinned back. Confused looks. Nicole was struggling to keep it together. ‘He never said he was in any manner part of the government, or a government program, Mr. Cherrie,' the female lead barracuda gave me her own hungry look. The guy looked pissed. ‘Oh, Mr. Belafonte, are you a private researcher, or a government one?' she female junior lawyer asked. ‘Heather Pulaski,' she gave her name. ‘Call me Cáel, Heather, and I am in no way associated with any government, I barely know what an Ichthyologist is and I'm certainly not one. Rude, arrogant people annoy me when they treat my friends like they are stupid; especially when they should know better. I can rarely stop myself from ridiculing them,' I grinned. ‘And now you think you are better than everyone else in the room for tricking us with this juvenile prank,' the Serial Killer sounded bored. ‘No. The lives of strangers are not my concern,' I bantered back. ‘I did what I did to make Nicole smile. If my antics remind the rest of you what a hotshot lawyer she is so much the better.' ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dyoung, Cáel, Cáel Nyilas, is a joker. He's is also brilliant and just joined Havenstone Commercial Investments in their Executive Services Division,' Nicole bragged. She got points for the 'Executive Services' part. More smirks; some people never learn. ‘Havenstone doesn't employ too many men, does it?' Mrs. Dyoung said. Maybe she was looking for a Discrimination lawsuit. ‘Five men to be precise and two of us are out of the country,' I enlightened her. ‘So you are brilliant,' Mr. Dyoung seemed barely engaged; and was Mrs. Dyoung's Mr. Dyoung. ‘What are your insights on DNA ownership, Cáel?' ‘DNA ownership is a fallacy,' I stated. ‘People are not pigs, soybeans, or corn. You cannot create a financial liability for your offspring because that amounts to slavery and is forbidden by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. DNA is a person; their blueprint. Only the person owns it and they can't even sell it outright.' ‘That is hopelessly naive,' he snorted. ‘Not really. If you apply an accepted price tag to every human being on Earth, the anarchy will begin. Crimes like murder, torture and mutilation are based on the concept that human life has an unspecified value. Give something a value and you can trade in it.' ‘Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?' I postulated. ‘I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naïve? I'm not murdering somebody. I'm repossessing their DNA. Mr. Dyoung, I'm not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.' ‘Oddly enough, I've had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I'll go down standing up, thank you very much,' I grinned. ‘In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I'm more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.' ‘You sound like an anarchist,' Mr. Cherrie chimed in. ‘Nope. I'm independent-minded. There is a difference,' I indicated. ‘Just like you, anarchists don't want to let me be me either.' ‘Laws exist for a reason,' Nicole chastised me. What she was really saying was 'you are here for a reason and it isn't entertaining my co-workers'. ‘This is the point where the smart man goes 'yes ma'am, they do',' I nodded to her. ‘Your young man is not stupid,' Mrs. Dyoung chuckled. ‘This young man knows what happens if he behaves,' Nicole bowed to her superior; her boss, not me. ‘Oh goodie,' I rubbed my hands together. ‘Are we about to do some file-sharing?' ‘Something like that,' Nicole laughed and off we went. All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God's Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we'd just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door; with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk; glass houses and all. ‘That is from the Canadian Shield; some of the oldest rocks on Earth,' she told me. ‘You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don't do something soon,' I teased. ‘Where do you want to start?' she leaned against her desk. Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another 'she rocks' indicator. ‘Your lips,' I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice. ‘The other lips,' I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up. Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy. ‘What are you holding back for?' I slurped around my tongue-lashing. We weren't in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm. ‘Damn!' she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal 'damns'. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted. Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole's dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I'd briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn't care and Nicole reveled in 'bending the minds' of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area? I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men's room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, sodomized, then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob. Our last encounter involved a men's standing urinal, Nicole's legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated. ‘Oh my God!' she yelped. ‘I've got it. Put me down.' I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in. Me? I'd come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I'd reciprocated, it was time for 'hook-up' Nicole to become 'lawyer' Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following. Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgûl. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness. ‘Time to show you out,' Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. ‘Come on.' Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators. ‘Hold the door,' a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time. A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole. ‘Don't even think about it, Cáel,' Nicole teased. ‘That's Miss Brianna O'Shea, she leads our client's team and she's totally off limits.' O'Shea pulled a 'Katrina' the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me. ‘What was your name?' she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials; the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do. ‘Percival Fenris, ma'am,' I introduced myself. ‘I'm a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.' Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother. Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health. ‘Miss O'Shea, this is Cáel Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,' Nicole cut through my obfuscation. O'Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance. ‘Interesting eyes,' she noted. ‘What is your heritage?' Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong. ‘Cáel, you two have the same eyes,' Nicole mumbled. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Miss Lawless,' Brianna said. Huh? ‘You are a lawyer named Lawless?' I gawked at Nicole. ‘How did that happen?' Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole's office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex. ‘That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,' O'Shea kept coming. ‘What do you mean 'not relevant'? Are you saying you'd hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?' I wondered. ‘If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.' ‘Why are you avoiding my question?' Brianna queried. ‘Why are you asking questions I clearly don't want to answer?' I retorted. ‘Cáel, please don't antagonize my client's representative,' Nicole was playful yet concerned. ‘No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,' I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive ass squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo; with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door. O'Shea/Mom's double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm. ‘Why don't we go out for a late bite to eat,' she stated. I wasn't being invited. I was being told. ‘No can do,' I shrugged off her hand. ‘I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.' ‘What makes you think I have sinister intentions?' she questioned. There was a lot of that going around; not answering stuff, that is. ‘Why do you assume you aren't giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?' I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route. To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O'Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up. ‘Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,' I kept smiling. ‘Or are these three supposed to scare me?' I chuckled. ‘Here; in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.' ‘Video evidence can be altered,' Brianna gave me a wicked gleam. ‘Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?' I kept snickering. ‘If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,' I grinned. ‘You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,' O'Shea nodded. ‘Foolishly so.' ‘Lady, I'm staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,' I pointed out. ‘This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn't going to change a damn thing,' I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane. ‘You seem very confident,' she informed me. ‘Of course I am,' I stated. ‘You haven't spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.' ‘Why would you have a bodyguard?' she inquired. ‘Why would you want to know?' I countered. ‘Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?' Brianna regarded me. ‘We can do this 'answering a question with a question' thing all night long, except I have to be at work at six a.m. so how about you tell me what you really want to know and tell me why you look like; screw that; are my Mother's clone,' I sighed. ‘Tell me about your genetic heritage,' O'Shea demanded. She was that kind of authoritative prick; actual penis not required. ‘I apologize. I don't seem to have a handle your native vocabulary and your English-as-a-Second Language skills suck,' I sneered. ‘I should go home now.' Moorish guy blocked my egress. English chick was on my right flank, back to the limo and the street. The most pressing issue was a matter of privilege; O'Shea's people thought they'd get away with breaking the law. The moment the Moor popped out is baton, it was 'on'. A baton is a weapon plus O'Shea and her bodyguard were blocking my exit. I was legally free to attack him now. Normally I was lawfully compelled to exit the scene as opposed to engaging in violence. Since I couldn't run away, I was allowed to kick his ass; and O'Shea and company didn't give a crap. I worked five-plus days a week with people like that. The wavy-red haired, emerald green-eyed O'Shea wasn't the daughter of some Mafioso, or Nigerian Warlord. I didn't know what she was, but she was the many opposites of good news. ‘I imagine you think I didn't notice that Taser,' I addressed the Englishwoman while getting in the Moor's face. ‘That is an unfortunate miscalculation on your part.' ‘See, your dumbass partner, with his wonderful 80 cm tool, has let me get inside his reach. Before he can bring it to bear, I'm going to crush it trachea,' I outlined. ‘Now I have his tool and the whole reach thing is working in reverse. You have a hand-held device with a 10 cm reach and I have one that is 80 cm and the distance to make effective use of it.' ‘Don't worry about the guy at the door. By the time I face you, my bodyguard will lethally wound Miss O'Shea there. In case you missed it, now you are all screwed because your job is to guard her, not suppress me; and you all just failed,' I kept the Moor's eye contact. ‘While this horror crosses your mind, I'll break your hand.' ‘Your buddy isn't coming to help you. He's running to Miss O'Shea because he's supposed to keep her alive and that takes all his time and concentration. You poor driver will get out and, not yet having his situational awareness, my bodyguard will neutralize him. About the same time, I will crack your skull open. This allows me to decide whether, or not to kill Miss O'Shea,' I concluded. All of that was an utter and complete fantasy. Collapsible batons; I'd seen them in a few movies. Tasers? I have been tazed and never, ever want to repeat the process; three separate incidences was enough for me. Did I have a bodyguard close by? I had not asked for one and Havenstone had the sad habit of not telling me a damn thing that concerned my personal survival. On the plus side, I could be a compelling actor, or successful conman. I'm not an actor by the grace of two little words; sex scandal. If I sleep with a girl I want it to be because I've tricked and deceived her, not because she wants to tape us then sell it to the media. That would make me feel degraded; cheapened even. I'm not a conman because they use seduction to get what they want. For me, the seduction IS what I want. Steal their money? That would imply I would never, ever be able to sleep with them again. I couldn't do that and remain true to myself. To prove my point, the Moor looked past me to O'Shea for instructions. I punched him in his Solar Plexus and took his toy as I shoved his breathless form to the sidewalk. The Englishwoman expected me to attack her, just like I'd told her I would. It took her a second to realize I'd played her. By then it was too late. I could flee up the street if I wanted. ‘You attacked my man,' O'Shea noted casually. ‘Well, your ears are dicey, but your eyes are spot-on,' I snorted. ‘Shoot him,' O'Shea was decided to wrap this up. I was ceasing to be amusing. ‘In the legs.' Out came the guns and down went my likelihood of getting out of this intact. Pamela walked out of the building we'd exited a minute ago. She was wearing tight black stretch pants, a red turtleneck and a short beige jacket. ‘Protocols,' Pamela invoked in a bored voice. ‘Define,' O'Shea demanded. ‘Cáel,' Pamela kept her gaze on O'Shea, ‘who do you work for?' ‘Havenstone,' I answered. O'Shea looked from Pamela to me. ‘This does not protect a simple employee,' O'Shea stated. ‘I am invoking the Protocols. This does not require me to explain things to you,' Pamela was cool and relaxed. ‘By all means, if you feel I am abusing the Truce, kick it upstairs and it will be adjudicated.' ‘What is your name?' Brianna O'Shea requested of Pamela. ‘Cáel Nyilas. That is all you need to know,' Pamela smirked. ‘That is not possible,' Brianna gained her own barracuda grin. ‘He is Illuminati business. Look at his eyes.' Pamela laughed. The WHO? Weren't they some kind of Freemasons? ‘He walks away right now unless you explain yourself. He is at Havenstone. Whatever relationship he possessed with the Illuminati ceased when he was hired,' Pamela informed her. ‘Cáel Nyilas, tell me about your Mother,' Brianna commanded. ‘No,' I shrugged. ‘It is a simple enough question,' Miss O'Shea persisted. ‘And it is simply none of your business,' I held my ground. ‘I am her sister,' O'Shea declared. Pamela snorted but otherwise kept silent. ‘Ugh; that was not what I wanted to hear,' I groaned. Pamela snickered. She knew where my mind was. ‘Why should I believe you?' ‘You had your genetic sequence analyzed Thursday, didn't you?' O'Shea said. ‘That was flagged by people working for me because you and I share half of the same DNA.' ‘That's not possible,' Pamela stated in the same way she knew I was a cosmic joke. ‘How is that not possible?' I looked to Pamela. I was really starting to accept me and Homicidal O'Shea were family. Why? I'd never had to confront the incest taboo before and here it was looking right at me. O'Shea looked to Pamela, to me, back to Pamela then finally back at me. ‘Do you have a single clue about what is going on?' Brianna addressed me. ‘Yeah, of course I do,' I lied. ‘You are with the Illuminati and you know Havenstone is more than a bunch of greedy bitches.' Pause. ‘So you know nothing about what is going on here, right at this moment,' O'Shea's eyes skewered me. Sigh. ‘Mom; your sister, is dead;' I got out. ‘Yes, she died seven years ago,' Brianna interrupted. ‘What?' I glared. ‘No, she died fifteen years ago. Where do you get your information from and why didn't you at least check out the fucking gravestone?' I snapped. ‘Fifteen; that doesn't make sense; I didn't know where she died, only that when her medication ran out, she would have been consumed by some kind of aggressive cancer,' O'Shea responded. ‘What;' sort of slipped out. ‘How many brothers and sisters do you have?' O'Shea probed. ‘Like I'd tell you,' I growled. ‘None,' Pamela stated. ‘Thanks,' I glared at Pam. ‘Why don't you give away all my bargaining chips?' ‘Cáel, they know your last name,' Pamela stated. ‘Do you want them to hunt down your father and torture him for the names and locations of any other children?' ‘If you go after my Dad;' I became aggressive. ‘You will do nothing,' Pamela interrupted. ‘He is not covered by the Truce.' ‘A Truce I know nothing about,' I grumbled. ‘Screw all of you.' ‘Don't sweat it, Cáel. They need you and I can prove it with two honestly answered question,' Pamela smirked. ‘What name are you using today?' to Brianna. ‘Brianna O'Shea,' the red-haired lady replied. ‘How quaint; your real name. Brianna, how many other nieces and nephews do you and your sisters have?' Pamela inquired. Brianna glared. ‘I'll answer that for her; none. That begs the question of why you,' Pamela smiled at me, ‘exist at all. I'm sure that come Monday morning every medic at Havenstone is going to be crawling all over you looking for that answer.' O'Shea had a new game plan. She was going to murder Pamela and kidnap me. This meant I was going to get screwed up; maybe killed. Pamela would kill everyone else and sex would be extra painful for the next week to ten days; I was tired of that crap. I dropped the baton and walked up to Brianna. The bodyguards were twitching, Brianna was calculating multiple variables and Pamela looked mildly amused. I hugged Brianna. ‘If we are family then we are family,' I explained. ‘If there is something you want to talk to me about, give me a call. I'm in the book and I'm sure Havenstone can patch you through if you want to get in touch with me at work.' Pamela was struggling to contain her mirth. ‘Can you keep this discussion under wraps for now?' Brianna requested. The likelihood of that happening must have showed in my eyes. ‘Okay, who do you work for?' Pamela was laughing into her hand. ‘Umm; I work for Katrina Love of Executive Services,' I answered. O'Shea almost had an embolism. ‘It is okay, my desk is in her office, so we are pretty close.' Not at all what she wanted to hear. ‘Okay, I'll stop teasing you. I know who Katrina is and what she does; basically making people like you have believably fatal accidents.' ‘You are a man? Why are you still walking around free?' O'Shea muttered. ‘His sexual dynamism supersedes the sublimely addictive,' Pamela enlightened O'Shea, ‘and if you don't believe me, go up and ask that 'Nicole Lawless' woman.' ‘I was going to say 'I look great in hose and a push-up bra', but that works too,' I muttered. And the last thing I wanted to envision at that reality-cracking moment happened. Brianna O'Shea looked me over and that look said 'Sex'. She was my aunt! Technically; somehow; that should matter, right? ‘Aunt Brianna; Brianna; Auntie O'Shea; what do you want me to call you?' I stammered. ‘Brianna will do,' she pulled those plush red lips into a grin and extended her hand. I shook it. She had a strong grip. She was tapping the pulse in my wrist with her forefinger; a tried and true arousal technique I'd used countless times. ‘I'm really happy that we are family;' I evaded. ‘I had regular sex with mine and your mother's father, your grandfather,' Brianna discussed with the outrage normally reserved for the 'do you want your cantaloupe in wedges, or scoops' debate. ‘My; we'll just toss that in the category of things I never wanted to know,' I coughed. Wait! I could do better than that. This deserved sympathy, not comedy. ‘I am glad you got that off your chest,' I stroked her hand back; okay, not my brightest idea. ‘Has Grandpa stopped doing that?' ‘Your Grandfather is dead,' Brianna delivered the bad news. It was doubly bad because she seemed to really miss the jack-ass. At least I didn't have to feign grief at the bastard's funeral. This also would explain why Mom ran away from home and told Dad and I that her family all perished in a freak Sperm Whale hunting accident in the Arctic. You know, that sounded much more believable when I was five. Dad was crazy in love, which explained his suspension of disbelief whenever she walked in the room. ‘He was assassinated in his study in our mountain home, his throat slit clean through and his body desecrated beyond our ability to resurrect him,' Brianna shed a tear. This was the point where I seriously began worrying about there being a natural gas leak that was either screwing up what I was hearing, or what other people were saying. ‘Wow; how sad,' I tried to sound shaken by the news. ‘I know,' Brianna hugged me. But wait, ‘You smell like him (deep, sensual purr); Dad, that is.' Oh God No! ‘Well with Granddad gone, you seem to have done well for yourself; lves,' I corrected. It sounded like I had aunts in the plural, I was praying for the positive, plus a quick exit. ‘No, we can't move on until we find the assassin,' Brianna told me. She added in a whisper, ‘We know she was an Amazon.' Ah, look, an invitation by my freakish, incestuous aunt to betray the insane fanatics I worked for. I began crying. ‘I understand,' Brianna reached around and patted my back, ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.' ‘You have no idea,' I sniffled. What was my mind was saying: 'By the way, Aunt Brianna, the wacked-out chick that offed Granddad is two meters away from you and you definitely didn't bring a big enough army to deal with her'. ‘Why don't you come home with me tonight?' Brianna offered somewhat plaintively. Sex; worse, I wasn't coming up with any really convincing reasons to not have sex with her. We would do it with the lights off. That way I wouldn't be looking into the face of the Mother of my youth having an orgasm impaled on me. Maybe dim lighting would be okay too. ‘I can't go home with you tonight,' I looked away. ‘I'm feeling vulnerable.' That was exactly why she wanted to take me home with her; confused and vulnerable would allow her to revisit her nostalgic Father-Daughter fornications. ‘You need someone who loves you to look after you,' Brianna prodded. ‘That's what I'm for,' Pamela came to my rescue. Glares and snippets of wrath ensued. In the end, Pamela and I made our getaway. A few blocks away; I didn't want a taxi yet; Pamela speaking voided my introspection. ‘Questions?' ‘Where were you hiding while Nicole and I were having sex?' I mused. ‘Which time?' Pamela taunted me. ‘You mean you followed us to the Men's bathroom (we were reliving our first sexual encounter and then some)?' I groused. ‘I am not saying I was there. I'm not saying I wasn't. I'm not saying,' Pamela smirked. Pause. ‘You killed Grandpa?' I asked. ‘Yes.' ‘You stole his soul?' ‘Yes.' ‘You took yourself to the cliffs to destroy his soul; and yours?' ‘Yes.' ‘You decided not to because of his curse/warning?' ‘No.' ‘Um; why didn't you kill yourself?' ‘He; your Grandfather; had a back-up plan. Having me kill myself was a ploy. Had I done it, I would have lost my soul, his soul would have been released and Havenstone would have thought him dead. At the last moment I gained the insight he had a body already prepared for him that no other person knew about,' Pamela informed me. ‘You.' ‘My Mother didn't know?' I worried. ‘I am not sure. Most likely she thought she had escaped the Old Bastard.' ‘Ugh; family life around Christmas must have been a blast,' I grumbled. ‘The Illuminati make a mockery of the Cult of Christ. They have influenced the Catholic hierarchy for a millennia.' ‘How did she get away; if she got away?' I muttered. ‘Your Mother and Aunts were born to be slaves, but contained nearly all the DNA of your Grandfather; essentially female 'hims'. That meant they are all very, very smart so your Mother figured out a way and fled. Somehow she found your Father and happiness.' ‘He let her get away, didn't he?' I asked. ‘Don't sell your Mother short,' Pamela chided me. ‘He most likely engineered her escape from his estate, but the rest was her. Otherwise, you would have had Illuminati watchers all this time. No, your Grandfather wanted her to be completely free of the Illuminati, and all the other secret orders, until he was ready to make his return.' ‘Why did Brianna think Mom died of cancer seven years ago?' I went for next. ‘All your aunts need medication to keep them healthy and young,' Pamela related. ‘The only one with the formula was your Grandfather and, after so many decades, those bitches have to be running out of it soon, if they haven't already exhausted their supply.' ‘Without the drugs, your Mother would have aged and developed various cancers that would have escalated in their aggression until she died. For some reason, she stopped taking her medications before they ran out,' Pamela ruminated. ‘To have me,' I lowered my head. Mom had died because she knew Dad wanted a child; me. ‘It is not impossible that she couldn't have a child while on the regimen. That sounds like something that bastard Cáel O'Shea would have done,' Pamela agreed. ‘What?' I gulped. ‘You were named after your maternal grandfather, who I studied for weeks, and I can tell you that Cáel Nyilas is a hundred times the person he ever was,' Pamela assured me. ‘Let's not tell my aunt that,' I grunted. ‘Don't worry about that,' Pamela patted me on the back. ‘All of your aunts are most likely addicted to his pheromones and you have some variant of them.' ‘The fuck you say!' I gawked. ‘Oh yeah. He was that kind of son of a bitch.' ‘So when I get scared, they get horny?' I despaired. ‘Or if you are your regular horny self,' Pamela chortled. ‘Hell, Brianna is probably humping that urinal you and Miss Lawless engaged as a; prop earlier this evening.' ‘You are just a cornucopia of horrific knowledge, aren't you?' I groused. ‘I've never had a friend like you,' Pamela enlightened me. ‘You've never had a friend before,' I countered. I hadn't known her a week and I already wanted to kill her half the time as it was. I wondered if women felt the same way about me on occasion. ‘That would definitely make you my finest friend then,' she snickered. ‘Thanks,' I grumbled. ‘Just for that, when I have Daphne bent over with her head and shoulders pressed against the wall while I slam her from behind with all this pent up rage, I'll be thinking of you.' ‘Really?' she queried. ‘Of course not. Daphne is smoking hot. When I finally have sex with her, the only thing I'll be thinking about besides Daphne is how I'm going to have sex with her again,' I grinned. ‘Good,' she smiled happily. Yes, we were talking about me boinking her granddaughter and she was A-Okay with it. ‘Remember, there is no need to use a condom.' ‘I'm not falling for that, you evil witch

ExplicitNovels
Cáel and the Manhattan Amazons: Part 8

ExplicitNovels

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 8, 2024


Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

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dare attorney norway ninjas trick sense sexuality kicking stepping oz alpha flesh korean secure gps picking failing tests offering pope raiders sword bodies denmark outdoors odds fuel belgium shoot flowers heads drunk entering brazilian egyptian scream sucks fuck gaza faces twenty confusion guys connected thousands highways constitution bbq lying jail equality east coast hunting heading albert einstein bang honesty new hampshire walls congratulations tasks factor funeral boxing guilty lent qatar defeat bright laughter fatherhood loyalty lonely sort traffic bass steal astrology delivery neighbor ot long island lift eleven cold war fantastic wearing beating implications sins logic pillars dracula heritage harder investigation physicians jedi civil uganda lunch pants mafia holistic knock ecuador explain confused crimes finished best friend cpa treating publishers armed hanging cancel swiss ram personally cheap warm ash buddy worried eyes ottawa quitting cows contest mount hundreds fed 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fifty recycling ladder terrorists silly bullshit nah protocol household tight tested compassionate cosmos bdsm liar lighting jerks conduct penis smooth new york giants nobel prize carnival canceled ignoring lemon theft arabic blink little mermaid fascinating orders painful hern grandmothers tide cycling ding knives masculine syrian gremlins taxi possession eastern europe afghan translation hunters bit lands myanmar communists belly grandpa acid mp added rolls bedroom recall wild west brotherhood foolish saturday night mumbai kindergarten handbook minimum forgetting crap physically companion homeland security illuminati hurry screw cobra burned petty babe bro almighty vietnamese hierarchy remind unc real housewives relentless serpent allah secret service guinness irishman sd libra peter pan goodnight mansion bluetooth mri king kong cheer pops roman empire ranger abyss tango btw homer smaller bing dmv salmon gangs girl scouts hq explicit jehovah good morning blonde ak martian sixth charging grandparents casper glasses fiscal yahweh appeals newark fucking planned parenthood state department acquisitions grandfather belarus adultery pole nypd aunt bibles rude murdered heavens central park holy grail ancestors fuego breach libertarians mister anal wisely winds plea nsa santa fe patagonia boy scouts momma device feds bordeaux ballet bounce converting rope sasquatch administrators south koreans lemonade shore estonia 401k atm monday night mano sir puerto rican meth underworld dwellings predators bastards rockies menace clever torn knees hungarian apologize promising protocols naples warner brothers slaughter cpr tend diaspora tender laden slayer unable south asian cape cargo scandinavian bitches jaguar lay homicide immortal tibet underwear technically cheerleaders copper condoms refer pd lacking asians guarding al qaeda stevenson devo esquire appalachian virtually ambitious larger ro automatic benjamin franklin nile life insurance mare sunday night fist summer camp 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males green beret kinky defy democratic republic bce charlie chaplin trojan big one interpol freemasons virginity cheetahs angelic hamptons missing link jason statham kill bill pity oak mccabe parasites ear year one behave thrilling nutcracker irrelevant futurama convincing george carlin vessels mothering white christmas eastside depaul yugoslavia al capone yum ran secret societies slight neanderthals yummy serbian central asia cha extensive grizzly cougar pinnacle vulcans liking sweaty storming whore tragically morons lesbians chinese communist party sikh triple crown great wall reminding exiting heavily magnum airborne grappling pleased osama savor obama administration missing person u s state fairs stud dispelling generals bulgarian pocahontas man up deep south emergency rooms lawless state senators caucasians gf nipple madi obtain suffice canada day inuit shampoo tandem turks erotica maldives sensing goddesses speeding brownies archery soviets purple heart strangely fp cambodians 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equestrian catholic school orgies modernism home loans faults village voice recount clans sipping kurdistan harmonious kneel my mother team lead high priestess glock resonate precinct lcd lombard invading draco ancestor keyes foe emergency services donetsk coroner forc krav maga burnham celts bushido hubby rhodes scholar magna carta rorschach penetration assyrian violating grace kelly congolese fabiola asc bolivian snape frat ako mah atwood second language blush enrique iglesias darwinian friday morning ancient world medico umm germanic prc i won big boss hippocrates buster keaton pinhead eurasian woot world domination snapping ishtar kama sutra bum swiss alps dumbass holy crap coal mine life plans improper tigger holy shit armory prick my son sizzling appoint beg holy cow hunting season castello coughing four days amusement neapolitan park rangers speedo athleticism vassar college orphan black central africa felicit omniscient his house hadrian timothy leary eharmony wha father daughter amazonia great pumpkin alphas naughty list little sister infighting pandering finnes birthed ursula k le guin propelled umami pluck magyar timur evasion us navy seals chuckles solar plexus amway intensive care cowardly hittites barring geisha eek my house legions danube motherfuckers hilton head mongoose restraining orders western united states evil empire black forest zen masters brainiac iron age silky intercourse yakima acp vietnamese american ow trust funds disrespecting bacchus bad girl mein kampf taunting internal affairs abed assistant manager kindergarten cop cavemen trojan war 3f canadian american padawan anat mesoamerican old spice hellas crouching tiger shotguns consulate ramses lumpy medical examiners top shot last place patching hittite oliver cromwell boohoo chicago pd east river crewe intensive care units cunt scathing your father imhotep hippocratic oath constanza rolling thunder groan saturday afternoon dominicans sick leave scythians deyoung northern district 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bestiality moose jaw quebecois lashing smg stanhope sot retrieve uzbek southern india mountie sex god gruff supremacists black lotus modern american searing kibble wmds estere shoshone miranda rights augur sperm whales matron caress sheath olmec durex coils amory madame butterfly grans big sis main man gutless jaywalking minoan sinaloa cartel belafonte lead investigator foolishly slaughtering genghis long island medium unconquered slavs romany mumbling javiera squirts hey dad normals caller id muay yalda friendless bolingbrook cherrie egg mcmuffins latin kings yuppie blood feud wakefulness ibew sunni islam garden gnomes you god tri state area issue one picts cloaking mossberg holy fuck low countries han chinese bereft western roman empire marilynn we americans un charter rusty nail misinterpreting reichmann amateur night new agers peregrine falcon tabriz mississippi valley corporate security weeee magyars inflicted dutch east indies bwana ninja assassin death certificate professor snape momma bear christmas elf kyrgyz communist russia cambodian americans bomo englishwoman tamerlane amerindian epona casus belli counter intelligence otolaryngologist lothario angel falls paranormal witness subcontinent temujin dcup council chambers negative reinforcement pillow guy george anderson wagnerian wakko arpad fbi headquarters my aunt genoese obedience training welcome wagon miyako nazg hey bro british sas good golly wiggling yes ma literotica chip coffey zombie survival guide divulging mediterranean world my sisters personal defense bumpkin charlie horses me let savate hron new york county free tibet director c unluckily motherfu collapsible house heads century bce dual survival italian deli lucky bastards mycenaeans lilliputian natural born killer eminently black sands shammy hey lady daniel burnham english midlands dacian policia federal nicorette cheese puffs thorazine 2x4 'thelma marda in soviet russia dimwit us tax code brian fung currying firing range cherry vanilla every amazon dutifully carnegie melon green meadows she had cocksucker unbutton fiji mermaid late saturday lydians amazon c neutron bomb bersa homicide division thuggee goddess ishtar united states federal wiccan priestess cyberdyne systems stanica girl you sarmatians deoxyribonucleic avars my japanese mirandized kazaks karvala bulgars her aunt gotchya maldives islands katrina love ruger lcr you broke
Cracks Podcast con Oso Trava
#302. Braulio Arsuaga - Recibir a Presidentes, la Industria de la Hospitalidad, Inversiones y la Economía de Plata

Cracks Podcast con Oso Trava

Play Episode Listen Later Oct 21, 2024 114:48


Dime qué piensas del episodio.Braulio Arsuaga: @braulioarsuagal es un destacado empresario en el ámbito del turismo y desde 2013 es Director General de Grupo Presidente, una empresa mexicana dedicada a la gestión de hoteles, restaurantes y residencias para adultos mayores. Obtuvo su Licenciatura en Administración de Empresas de la Universidad Anáhuac México Norte, y también posee una Maestría en Administración de Empresas de la Southern Methodist University. Por favor ayúdame y sigue Cracks Podcast en YouTube aquí."Los momentos difíciles son grandes oportunidades para resetear tu vida."- Braulio Arsuaga @b_arsuagalComparte esta frase en TwitterEste episodio es presentado por Dumo Labs los mejores suplementos para mejorar tu desempeño cognitivo y por Diri Movil la compañía de telefonía que ha revolucionado la forma en que yo y miles de mexicanos nos mantenemos conectados.Braulio Arsuaga participó como tiburón en la sexta y séptima temporadas del programa Shark Tank México y es fundador de GP Compas, un vehículo de inversión que respalda a startups en su etapa inicial para maximizar su potencial. Es consejero de Grupo Gigante; de Inmobiliaria Conjunto Polanco; de Fundación Gigante; y de Novag Infancia. También es presidente del Consejo de Administración del Consejo Nacional Empresarial Turístico (CNET), órgano cúpula que aglutina al 96 por ciento de las empresas turísticas de México.Hoy Braulio y yo hablamos de turismo, de inversiones de cómo superar una crisis y de la gran oportunidad que representa la economía de plata.Qué puedes aprender hoyProtocolos de vista de líderes y presidentesInnovación en el turismo para nuevas generacionesOportunidades de la economia de plata *Este episodio es presentado por DUMO.DUMO son suplementos 100% naturales que mejoran tu memoria, función cognitiva y habilidad de conseguir un sueño profundo y reparador. Además ya cuenta con Creatina de la mas alta calidad, vitamina D3+K2 y Omega 3 de krill antártico.Si quieres mejorar tu desempeño prueba DUMO LABS en www.dumolabs.com*Este episodio es presentado por Diri Móvil, la compañía de telefonía que ha revolucionado la forma en que yo y miles de mexicanos nos mantenemos conectados.¿Sabías que puedes tener 40 gigas por solo $289 pesos al mes? Ahora gestiono todo lo que necesito para mis dos líneas desde la app, sin costos ocultos ni plazos forzosos.La cobertura es excelente hasta en lugares donde nunca lo esperaba, hasta en eventos masivos.Además, si migras tu número actual Diri te duplica los datos por un año. Por sólo $289 al mes, tendrás 80 gigas y redes sociales ilimitadas todo un año. Por escuchar Cracks, Diri te regala 7 días de servicio ilimitado para que pruebes su servicio. Sólo dirígete a diri.mx/cracks y descarga tu eSIM gratis. Ve el episodio en Youtube

Marcador
ENTREVISTA BRAULIO VÁZQUEZ (07/10/2024)

Marcador

Play Episode Listen Later Oct 7, 2024 34:06


ENTREVISTA BRAULIO VÁZQUEZ, DIRECTOR DEPORTIVO DE OSASUNASee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

True Crime in the 50
Virginia: The Murder of Michelle Castillo

True Crime in the 50

Play Episode Listen Later Sep 23, 2024 22:12


Michelle Castillo was 43 years old and lived in Ashburn, Virginia in a 10,000 square foot mansion with her four young children. Michelle had recently been estranged from her husband, Braulio Castillo and had obtained a restraining order against him. She was enjoying her newfound freedom, and had just found out she had acheieved a dream of hers: to participate in the Boston Marathon in 2014. But little did she know that Braulio, who had moved just a few doors down from Michelle, was tracking her every move and stalking her. And then he escalated. On the night of March 19, 2014, he snuck into the house where he used to live with his family and committed the most heinous of crimes, leaving his five children without a mother and a murderer for a father. Show Notes:https://www.imdb.com/title/tt15545452/

Buscadores de la verdad
UTP313 Elites psicopatocraticas en la Ilustre Degeneración

Buscadores de la verdad

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 17, 2024 52:40


Entrevista de Alex ¿Qué es real? 1.¿Por qué las elites crean problemas, dificultades e inseguridades al pueblo? 0100 Bueno, veo que vas directamente al grano, sin preámbulos, dando por hecho que existen unas elites que Pedro Bustamante denominó psicopatocraticas y cuyo nombre ya nos da la respuesta. Para llegar arriba debes ser el pepinillo más acido del barril, la rata más taimada y escurridiza y en un alto porcentaje de los casos un psicopata. Un psicopata al que solo le importa el poder, el trepar aún a costa de chafar cabezas y permanecer arriba. Desgraciadamente estamos rodeados de psicopatas, una de cada 100 personas lo es, lo cual significa que con una alta probabilidad estamos en contacto con alguno. La prevalencia de la psicopatía en la población general se estima en aproximadamente el 1% según múltiples estudios. La psicopatía se caracteriza por rasgos como la falta de empatía, comportamiento antisocial y manipulación, y es más común entre hombres que entre mujeres. Ese uno por ciento nos recuerda esa cantinela de que el poder es manejado por un 1% en contra de un 99% pero eso no es cierto ya que las redes clientelares, grupos secretos o discretos, sectas satánicas y otros miembros perniciosos de la sociedad esta mucho mas cerca del 20 ó 30% Expliquemos porque no deberíamos llamarlos elites, porque la palabra "élite" tiene su origen en el francés "élite", que significa "lo mejor de un grupo". Esta, a su vez, proviene del latín "eligere", que significa "elegir" o "seleccionar". La palabra se usó inicialmente en el contexto de los bienes y personas seleccionados por sus cualidades superiores. En inglés, comenzó a utilizarse en el siglo XVII para referirse a personas de alto estatus social o poder, y luego se expandió a otros idiomas con un significado similar a la palabra aristócrata que se usaba anteriormente. La palabra "aristócrata" proviene del griego antiguo “aristokratēs", compuesta por “aristos" que significa "el mejor" y “kratos" que significa "poder" o "gobierno". Literalmente, "aristocracia" se traduce como "gobierno de los mejores". Este término se usaba en la antigua Grecia para describir un sistema de gobierno donde el poder estaba en manos de una clase privilegiada considerada la más apta para gobernar debido a su virtud, educación y riqueza. Para estas mal llamadas elites psicopatocraticas el pueblo llano es el que causa los problemas y las inseguridades al conjunto de la humanidad. Nos consideran poco menos que ganado y suelen referirse a nosotros como “los muertos” porque no somos dueños de nuestras propias vidas. Esto nos lleva directamente a la eugenesia que está estrechamente relacionado con el surgimiento del darwinismo social a finales del siglo xix y enraizado en el maltusianismo. Malthus sostenía que el ritmo de crecimiento de la población responde a una progresión geométrica, mientras que el ritmo de aumento de los recursos para su supervivencia lo hace en progresión aritmética. Por lo tanto, y para bien de la supervivencia de la especie había que intervenir para impedir el nacimiento de más seres humanos. Por supuesto, las clases mas pobres serian las elegidas para corregir esa desviación matematica. No se si he contestado a tu pregunta, pero brevemente diríamos, que “ellos creen que están haciendo lo correcto”. 2.¿Cómo las elites han legitimado su poder ante la gente inferior y común? 0200 Por la fuerza y mediante la endogamia practicando el matrimonio, unión o reproducción entre individuos de ascendencia común, es decir, de una misma familia, linaje o grupo. A través del asalto de los órganos de poder e impidiendo que personas ajenas a dichos grupos endógenos accedan a los mismos. Aqui deberíamos hablar de la ley de hierro de la oligarquía o ley de hierro de los partidos de la que hablaba Garcia Trevijano, la cual nos explica porque todos quieren mandar. La ley de hierro de la oligarquía es una teoría política desarrollada por el sociólogo Robert Michels en su libro de 1911, Partidos políticos. Esta teoría sostiene que el gobierno por una élite u oligarquía es inevitable dentro de cualquier organización democrática debido a las "necesidades tácticas y técnicas" de la misma. Michels argumenta que todas las organizaciones complejas, sin importar cuán democráticas sean en sus inicios, eventualmente se transforman en oligarquías. Observó que en organizaciones grandes y complejas, el poder siempre se delega a individuos, ya sean elegidos o no. Michels termino militando en el Partido Fascista de Benito Mussolini. Y aqui es donde debemos explicar que la palabra fascista proviene de fascio, gavilla o haz de lictores, pequeñas varas de madera o flechas atadas con una cinta roja y rematadas con un hacha. Estos cilindros representaban el poder, la autoridad y la fuerza, y eran cargados al hombro por los lictores, que acompañaban a los magistrados curules como símbolo de coerción y castigo. Las 30 varas (una por cada curia o subdivisión de Roma) referían al castigo corporal y el hacha aludía a la pena de muerte por decapitación. Dentro del pomerium, es decir del límite sagrado de Roma, a los haces se les quitaba el hacha, para dejar constancia que dentro de la ciudad los magistrados curules podían castigar, pero no ejecutar. Fue utilizada por primera vez en el sentido del poder que tiene una banda armada en la década de 1870 por grupos de demócratas revolucionarios en Sicilia. El más famoso de estos grupos fue el Fasci Siciliani durante 1891-94 y también por los carbonarios que terminarían junto a Garibaldi unificando Italia. Entre los emblemas de los carbonarios, una rama de la masonería, tenemos el típico gorro frigio y el haz de lictores o fasces. Nos deberíamos preguntar porque el emblema de la Guardia Civil aqui en España es también el fascio romano. En pocas palabras podemos decir que todos los puestos de poder han sido tomados desde siempre por las familias que detentan el poder-religión en la sombra y que sus símbolos ancestrales siguen estando presentes. Por cierto, la cinta roja simboliza que llegaran a utilizar la fuerza en caso necesario hasta hacer sangre. 3.¿El poder de las élites sobre las masas sociales no es posible sin una red clientelar con personas cómplices y poderes intermedios? 0300 Hago mías unas palabras que podemos leer en la novela “La Ilustre degeneración”: 0301 “- Lo peor es que cada vez votan menos. Por muchos malabarismos que hagamos, el régimen pierde representatividad por un tubo. Los que votan en blanco, rechazan lo que les ofrecemos. Pero los que no votan, ¡nos rechazan a nosotros! ¡Monarquía incluida! - ¡De acuerdo! Pero que hayan tragado que votó más del 60%, cuando no llegaron ni al 50%, no significa que podamos seguir haciendo los que nos da la gana, como si nos aplaudiese la mayoría. Si no cambiamos, un día pasará lo que tiene que pasar. ¡Y no tendrá remedio! 0301a Marco Tulio asintió con un gesto. - Aunque me pese, tengo que decirlo. Los del "si buana", que hacen la vida imposible a quien nos parece y dejan que quien nos da la gana se la haga a los demás, en cuanto nos vean debilitados, pedirán mayor participación, cuando menos en perras. Tendremos que dársela, porque los necesitamos y porque pueden largar. Y los subalternos del subalterno seguirán su ejemplo. Es decir, que nos crecerán los enanos. Eso si no se levanta alguno. O todos nos hacen un corte de mangas. Pero si votasen de verdad, no podría pasar nada de esto, porque el respaldo de la gente, aunque no se diga, ¡impone mucho!” 0302 La única herramienta que tenemos a nuestra disposición es no votarles e impedir que sigan manteniendo el chiringuito y encima saquen pecho. Deslegitimarles en cualquier oportunidad y cualquier foro, cada uno en la medida de sus posibilidades sacando a la luz toda la podredumbre del sistema. Actualmente tenemos un gobierno que ha pactado con partidos independentistas para seguir en el poder y que por 7 votos prefiere destruir España a perder el escaño. La supuesta democracia ya vino envenenada con las autonomías y el café para todos de Suarez. Vino impuesta por la geopolítica internacional que quería una España débil, una España que era la octava potencia mundial y que hoy en dia solo tiene pellejo. Andrei Kononov nos lo ha explicado maravillosamente en sus artículos, recomiendo leerlos, empezando por GOLPE DE ESTADO FEDERAL: LA TRAMA BILDERBERG PARA DESTRUIR ESPAÑA. Trocear España y federalizarla es parte de los planes de esta psicopatocracia como lo es atomizar a las masas sociales en mas partidos, en mas grupos, en más gustos diferentes, incluso en mas gustos sexuales. Por eso cuando grupos heterodoxos de gente empezaron a protestar juntos por todas las calles de España tras la crisis del 2008 se diseño un plan para atrapar a todas esas fuerzas y unificarlas mediante el 15M para crear un partido que luego seria destruido. Para crear ese partido contaron con la ayuda de grupos coordinados que ya estaban en la red clientelar del Estado bien via partidos políticos, sindicatos o asociaciones. Resultara difícil deshacer una red clientelar tan bien nutrida durante tantos años pero nada es imposible. Muchas de esas personas no actuarían de la forma en que lo hacen si conociesen la realidad. Por tanto debemos centrarnos en hacerles ver a lo que contribuyen. 4.¿Por qué las élites promueven los instintos primarios más básicos en las masas sociales? 0400 Se trata de evitar que la mayor cantidad de gente acceda a la cúspide de la Pirámide de Maslow. Maslow formula en su teoría una jerarquía de necesidades humanas y defiende que conforme se satisfacen las necesidades más básicas (parte inferior de la pirámide), los seres humanos desarrollan necesidades y deseos más elevados (parte superior de la pirámide). Por lo tanto si mantenemos a la mayor cantidad de gente en la zona inferior de la pirámide no tendrán tiempo ni capacidad para pensar en que son explotados como ganado. Cito otra vez a Luisa Álvarez de Toledo y su cercenado libro sobre las elites psicopatocraticas: 0401 “Es primordial darle [al pueblo] algo en qué entretenerse. Leyes que les complican la vida, impuestos que los crujen, inseguridad y problemas. Hay que darles en qué pensar. Para que no piensen en lo que no deben.” 0402 El control de los instintos básicos o primarios en las poblaciones puede ser una herramienta poderosa para dominarlas porque estos instintos, como el miedo, la alimentación, el sexo y la necesidad de pertenencia, son fundamentales para la supervivencia y el bienestar humano. Al manipular estos instintos, los líderes pueden influir en el comportamiento de las personas de manera predecible. El miedo puede ser usado para justificar medidas drásticas o autoritarias, manteniendo a la población en un estado de dependencia y obediencia. Controlar el acceso a alimentos y recursos esenciales puede crear una dependencia directa del gobierno o de la autoridad en poder. Las normas y políticas que regulan las relaciones personales y la sexualidad pueden limitar la autonomía individual y reforzar el control social. Promover un sentido de identidad colectiva o de pertenencia a un grupo específico puede ser utilizado para dirigir las lealtades y acciones de las personas hacia los objetivos de quienes están en el poder. Estos métodos de control pueden ser efectivos porque los instintos básicos son fundamentales y profundamente arraigados en la psicología humana, haciendo que las personas sean más susceptibles a la influencia y manipulación cuando estos aspectos de su vida están en juego. Lo estamos viendo ahora mismo con el asesinato de tres niñas en el acuchillamiento múltiple que ha desatado una ola de violencia en Reino Unido. Muy probablemente todo haya sido diseñado fríamente desde el poder para lograr imponer unas medidas restrictivas aun mas duras. Por ejemplo, en cuanto al control policial y la vigilancia por reconocimiento facial que estaba siendo duramente criticada e incluso saboteada con el apoyo del pueblo. La gran mayoría de la gente que apoyaba a las personas que se dedicaban a destruir cámaras de reconocimiento dejara de hacerlo a la vista de los graves disturbios ocasionados por el asesinato de tres niñas. Nadie quiere estar en guerra permanente y se arrojaran de nuevo en los brazos de la policia y el poder que permite que ocurran esas desgracias. Las pulsaciones de vida y de muerte de las que hablaba Freud, el Eros y el Tánatos. Al final todo es resurrección y muerte en un ciclo sin fin. El polo negativo, el receptáculo en forma de copa femenino o matriz, el sexo o Eros y el polo positivo, el falo enhiesto masculino, la guerra o Tánatos. Como decía Pedro Bustamente, “el poder-religión se basa en el manejo de esta máquina, mucho más que en las fachadas tras las que se esconde”. 5.Luisa Álvarez de Toledo dice que las elites superiores inician a las elites inferiores en la corrupción y el placer. En este sentido, su propia iniciación implica también su control. ¿Éste sería el caso de Mario Conde y de otros? 0500 Tengo un articulo titulado “22 DE MAYO, CRISIS FINANCIERA, ATENTADOS Y EL SOUFFLÉ DEL CASO MALDITO” donde precisamente hablo de este tema. En los foros más oscuros se hablaba de un supuesto viaje del señor Conde y acólitos a las cerradas selvas africanas donde todavía habitan pigmeos. Gente de su entorno lo sabe muy bien…y saben a lo que querían ir allí, a practicar magia sexual ritual… …algún loco se lo recordaba entre líneas en el propio blog del señor Mario Conde, en la guarida del León. Dicho viaje supuestamente nunca se produjo. Podíamos leer textualmente en el blog marioconde punto org lo que le decía aquel loco y la propia respuesta del señor Conde: 0501 “Marito, no eran Pigmeos, eran Bosquimanos, y no era en Mozambique, era en Namibia... ¿O era en la selva de Anaconda, en la tierra de los hombres invisibles? Ay qué lío me estoy haciendo entre el mundo virtual y el real... Resulta que esta mañana me he encontrado a dos marcianitos verdes al lado de mi cama... Les he preguntado si eran de Marte o Raticulin, y me han dicho que no, que eran del Blog y que venían del mundo Virtual. Les he preguntado si me iban a abducir, y me han dicho que aún no estaba preparado, que tenía que engordar un par de kilos más... En todo caso, como el mundo se acaba en el 2012, les he dicho que esperen porque deseo conocer a la Tribu de los Hombres Invisibles antes de la trágica fecha... Pero antes debo recordar de qué pais se trataba, porque como buen explorador, tengo muchas ansias de viajar, pero luego olvido hacia donde…” 0502 “¿De qué pigmeos me hablas, Javier?. Si relees mi post ya no se habla de esos chicos pequeños que supuestamente viven en algún lugar que no es precisamente de La Mancha. Me debí de confundir con un sueño. Creo que Mozambique, Angola, Costa de Marfil y Mali han ocupado algún sitio en mi memoria en estos últimos días, así que quizás por ello en un proceso de alucinación Incontrolado surgieron esos países en mi duermevela matutina. ¿Por qué los pigmeos?. No se, tal vez porque ayer o antes de ayer o el dia anterior al antesdeayer me vino a la mente la necesidad de la humildad como presupuesto para hablar con los hombres y con Dios, y, tal vez, no se, digo yo, que en términos físicos la humildad puede tener cierta relación con la estatura, porque ya se sabe que en cuerpos pequeños caben espíritus grandes y viceversa. Tal vez mi alucinación sea debida a eso. O quizás a evitarte problemas de correos, de leyes, abogados y coas así, que nunca se sabe, porque lo mismo el Gobiemo de esos paises te dirige un escrito diciendote que como té atreves a hablar de pigmeos cuando allí todos son altos, guapos, apuestos, listos y... Acabo de terminar de escribir y tengo ciertas dudas de si mi comentario es positivo y cumple las normas del blog...En caso de no ser así, apelo a vuestra clemencia para evitar que un antropólogo serio sufra las consecuencias indeseadas de un comentario imprudente.” 0503 Todas las elites se juntan y realmente están interconectadas. De ello podemos darnos cuenta leyendo un estupendo articulo publicado en 2010 en el blog del señor Conde titulado “Una cena preñada de tolerancia entre católicos y masones”. Allí nos cuenta como a la mesa estaban representados el Opus, incluido uno que fue numerario, la iglesia, la masonería, el catolicismo y el agnosticismo. En palabras textuales: “…sentados en la misma mesa y sin que se vislumbrara el mas leve signo de violencia, ni verbal ni emocional.” Seis años más tarde la masonería le daba la espalda al enterarse de que el avalista para pagar la fianza de 300.000 euros para eludir la cárcel había sido Jaime Alonso García, vicepresidente de la Fundación Francisco Franco. Y ya saben que ambas cosas no pegan muy bien. Supuestamente tenia una larga trayectoria en la Gran Logia de España y su nombre incluso había «sonado» como futuro gran maestro de la orden de la escuadra y el compás pero este hecho trunco su carrera masónica. 6.¿Qué te parece la nueva imagen de Mario Conde como experto en las élites? 0600 El increíble rápido ascenso de Mario Conde y su ulterior y aun mas rápida defenestración…y la mas que burda manipulación a la que fue sometido todo el proceso nos indica que el más alto poder ha estado trajinando todo esto. Se rumorea por ahi por ejemplo que fue el grupo de Mario Conde el que desenterró a las niñas de Alcasser de su primer enterramiento y supuestamente las coloco en el palacio del rey Juan Carlos. También se dice que la versión extraoficial sobre el 11M y que obtuvo el periodista Fernando Múgica Fuentes también provino de su entorno cercano. Recordemos que fue amenazado con ser asesinado para que no la difundiera, en síntesis, seria la siguiente, esto es todo una suposición: 0601 “El Partido Popular llevó adelante un inocuo falso atentado etarra el 11M, con la finalidad de obtener réditos electorales. El PSOE conocía lo que pretendía el PP y, a su vez, tenía preparado un supermisil electoral que pulverizaría al PP. Por encima de ambos partidos corrompidos sobrevolaba la inteligencia norteamericana, que solapó, al falso atentado inocuo del PP, un atentado brutal para consumo interno de la política norteamericana, porque pensaban que no saldrían políticamente vivos de Irak (del Irak de finales de 2003, Inicios 2004). El PP y el PSOE, para ocultar sus propias corruptelas, destruyeron las pruebas de los asesinatos (pues se autodescubririan) y las sustituyeron con pruebas falsas. Las personas condenadas por el 11M son inocentes de esos delitos.” 0601a Estos dos rumores son suficientes para no haber salido vivo y sin embargo ha seguido ejerciendo poder. Por ejemplo, y esto es muy desconocido, Conde pudo estar detrás del 15M a través de la organización Social Party. Si rastrean esta organización la verán como uno de los núcleos duros del 15M y dentro de ella está entre otros conocidos personajes Alejandra Conde, la hija de Mario Conde…y en 2016 cuando escribí un articulo sobre ello seguían manteniendo encendidas las ascuas de aquello que fue el 15M. El señor Mario Conde sigue muy vivo y tras el supuesto fiasco del 15M se decidió a organizar el primer Congreso de la Sociedad Civil el 30 de septiembre de 2011. Curiosamente en dicho congreso no se contó la verdad sobre el dinero fiduciario (creación de moneda), el control sistémico de ciertas familias o el encubrimiento de todos los estados nación de ciertas operaciones de falsa bandera como el 11S ó el 11M. Uno de los invitados a dicho congreso comentaba esto en Facebook: 0602 “Estoy invitado al «primer congreso de la sociedad civil», un evento creado en Facebook por Social Party y coordinado y financiado por la Fundación Civil que preside Mario Conde. ¿Alguien podría explicarme que relación existe entre un movimiento que pretende la transformación del sistema capitalista y una entidad que promueve su perpetuidad»” 0603 Lo dicho, el señor Conde debe tener padrinos muy gordos y no hablo del fallecido Conde de Barcelona que logro auparlo a la presidencia del Banesto. 7.Luisa Álvarez de Toledo cita más de 20 veces la palabra “políticos” y “clase política”, menciona 5 veces la palabra “aristocracia”, 1 vez la palabra “masones” y “0pus Dei”, y nunca menciona a los Jesuitas, ni la logia P2. Teniendo en cuenta esto, ¿a quién se refiere Luisa Isabel Álvarez de Toledo con las palabras “cofradía”, “iniciados”, “grupo”? 0700 En el articulo “La ilustre degeneración. De Toledos, Mauras y Caros.” supuestamente escrito por Juan Ignacio Blanco, porque el creador del blog de las sombras fue el señor Blanco y por eso ya no se escribe allí nada, podemos leer de boca de la propia duquesa: 0701 “Parte de los principios de Conde están perfectamente explicados: esa compra de Antibióticos por los italianos en la que estaba implicada la P-2, de manera que el dinero que le dan a Conde por sus Antibióticos, que no lo valían por supuesto, para que compre Banesto, ese dinero viene a través de la P-2. Hay un libro muy bueno publicado en Colombia sobre este tema. Con P-2 vamos a entrar en Conde, que es masonería y Opus, simultáneamente, que va a comprar y va a vaciar –que es la técnica: vaciar– el dinero del mayor banco de España, como antes vaciaron Calvi y su cuadrilla el Banco Ambrosiano.” 0702 El Banco Ambrosiano fue creado para contrarrestar con un Banco religioso al resto de bancos laicos existentes hasta el momento, según la explicación de Trovini. Aquí destaco la leyenda de San Ambrosio (Santo al que se debe el nombre del Banco) por si queréis ahondar, pero que se resume en la necesidad de sacrificio y pobreza para tener la gracia de Dios. Es curioso que un banco utilice ese nombre a tenor de la leyenda del Santo. Es bastante hipócrita, aunque están acostumbrados a reírse de nosotros en nuestra cara. El Banco Vaticano era accionista mayoritario del Banco Ambrosiano. Este Banco quebró en 1982, justo cuando se estrena la película Blade Runner. Roberto Calvi, presidente del Banco Ambrosiano y miembro de la Logia P2 y Paul Marcinkus presidente del Banco Vaticano y denominado por la prensa como “El banquero de Dios“ fueron los dos nombres que se harían famosos. Ambos fueron acusados de montar un entramado de empresas con sede en la sucursal del Banco Ambrosiano en Perú, utilizando empresas en Nassau así como cuentas fantasmas para hacer fluctuar la Bolsa italiana, lavar dinero procedente de la P2 e influir en partidos políticos de Italia y en movimientos de Liberación en Nicaragua (Frente Sandinista) y Polonia (Solidaridad). 0702a Tenemos una teoría que resume la importancia de la desaparición de Emanuela Orlandi para el Vaticano y relaciona a este banco. Según una noticia, se manejó la posibilidad de que el banquero de Dios, Marcinkus, pudiera ser el responsable del secuestro de la niña con el objeto de enviar un mensaje a “alguien” del Vaticano. Se supone que el dinero que había perdido en la quiebra del Ambrosiano, quería recuperarlo. Tal vez se tratase hasta de un ritual. Hay quien plantea que lo hizo para chantajear al Papa Juan Pablo II. Los banqueros del banco Ambrosiano, aparecieron uno ahorcado y otro envenenado. La muerte del banquero del banco Ambrosiaco Roberto Calvi y cuatro años más tarde la de otro banquero, Michele Sindona, fallecido después de beber un café envenenado con cianuro en una cárcel de máxima seguridad próxima a Milán, donde cumplía cadena perpetua han mostrado los lazos de la banca Vaticana con la mafia italiana y logias masónicas como la P2. El único sobreviviente de los implicados fue Marcinkus. Se dice que fue protegido por el Papa. Podemos concluir con que la desaparición de Emanuela Orlandi en1983 presuntamente se trató de un chantaje, ritual o ambos. En cuanto a no nombrar a los jesuitas muy probablemente se deba a que los Álvarez de Toledo fueron impulsores de la introducción de los jesuitas en España. En un paper titulado “LA CONFORMACIÓN DE LA PROVINCIA JESUÍTICA DE TOLEDO EN TORNO AL GENERALATO DE DIEGO LAÍNEZ “ leemos como “Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, conde de Oropesa, y su hermano, Francisco de Toledo, famoso virrey del Perú” consiguieron el establecimiento madrileño para los jesuitas. Por otro lado Francisco Álvarez de Toledo, fue el fundador del colegio universitario de Santa Catalina, cuyo rector en algún momento de su vida se convertiría en jesuita. Y ni que decir tiene que Toledo fue siempre un feudo jesuita durante los periodos que estos estuvieron activos en España y el apellido Álvarez de Toledo se llama así por algo. 8.Por otro lado, ¿cómo Luisa Álvarez de Toledo describe la dimensión religiosa de estas élites con sus rituales y pactos? 0800 Voy a leer dos extractos de la novela de la condesa para que veáis la diferencia. El primero describe uno de los rituales donde realizan actos sexuales y la ofrenda de la vida de una joven a Satanas. 0801 “El salón olía a incienso, hierbas aromáticas y alucinógenas que se consumían en los pebeteros, disimulando apenas el olor desagradable y acre del azufre, materia prima de nubes y reflejos, que sabiamente combinados con el las recreaban un ambiente fantasmal, más próximo a la teatralidad de Disneyworld que a la de Brughel. El ceremonial le pareció tan infantil como ridículo. Discursos hipócritas escondían la bajeza de unos individuos que compensaban su cobardía, física e intelectual, disponiendo sin limitación ni riesgo de seres indefensos.Efecto y causa de las taras del sistema, los reunidos se disimulaban bajo inútiles capirotes, pues todos hubiesen podido ser identificados, con nombre y apellido, sin necesidad de destocarse. Gerardo se preguntó cómo reaccionaría la sociedad si descubriese ciertas actividades privadas de sus rectores. Pétula le arrancó de sus reflexiones, pronunciando el nombre del diablo menor que le tocaba encarnar. Aguantando la risa, se arrodilló a los pies de un Braulio majestuoso, disfrazado de Gran Maestre. Recibidos los toques de mandoble, quedó incorporado al colectivo. Pétula subió solemnemente las gradas. El cuerpo de una joven desnuda y sin mancilla, debidamente amarrada, ejercía de mantel sobre el altar. Utilizando el lenguaje críptico de los infiernos, la pitonisa recitó advocaciones, mientras el cuenco de madera de la libación pasaba de mano en mano. El brebaje, preparado por Angustias y Maritina, acólitas de la sacerdotisa, era un coktail de alucinógenos, con toque de coca, disimulado con miel y zumo de frutas, llamado pomposamente hidromiel. Gerardo tragó a duras penas aquel licor, dulzón y pegajoso. Leída una fórmula redactada por un miembro de la Academia de la Historia, especialista en la tradición zoroástrica, Pétula dibujó en el aire el signo que acompañaba a la llegada de Satanás. El Gran Maestre se arrodilló. La cara en tierra, recibió al dios de los infiernos. Gerardo imitó a los demás, procurando reproducir los sonidos emitidos por la sacerdotisa, en el tono y con la devoción, que observaba en la concurrencia. Una explosión de paroxismo histérico saludó a Belcebú. Las miradas se concentraron en el trono. Se sintió realmente inquieto, al verlo tan vacío como antes.Informado de que debía besar el pie a Satanás, practicándole una felación, para terminar presentando el posterior, por si quería utilizarlo, se pregunto cómo acertar, habiéndoselas con un ser invisible”. 0801a Este segundo extracto habla como diría Juan Ignacio Blanco “sin ningún genero de dudas” del caso Alcasser: 0802 “Habían pasado los años, pero la calle no se olvidaba de lastres chicas. Limpias las calaveras, los cuerpos revelaban que habían sido bárbaramente torturadas por maníacos sexuales. Autopsia minuciosa, seguida de análisis, hubiese desvelado el misterio, que ocultaba la contradicción entre el tiempo necesario para hacer todo aquello y la muerte, que se pretendía casi inmediata. Pero al no estar interesado el poder en saber lo que realmente sucedió, la investigación quedó en chapuza, que no convenció a nadie, oponiéndose a la leyenda oficial la que dictaba la imaginación popular, oponiéndose la razón al cúmulo de contradicciones que llegaron al público. No siendo costumbre que el asesino firme su crimen, lo hizo en este caso, pues fue designado matador el propietario de un volante de la SeguridadSocial, encontrado en casamata, próxima a la fosa donde aparecieron los cuerpos. El ser su propietario delincuente común y drogata facilitó las cosas. Fue declarado culpable, sin que nadie explicase cómo era posible que un condenado, oficialmente en la cárcel, cumpliendo condena y sin derecho a salidas, residía en su domicilio habitual sin haber sido buscado ni molestado. No lo contó la autoridad, ni pudo hacerlo el interfecto. Dotado de facultades paranormales, por no dejarse detener, voló desde un quinto piso a la calle, perdiéndose para la eternidad, sin haber sido presentado.Ausente el culpable oficial, pero irrenunciable el juicio, por estar los ánimos alterados, se echó mano de un alfeñique, amigo del presunto Superman, que tratado según convenía, confesó repetidamente, con tan buena voluntad y detalle, que las contradicciones saltaban a la vista. No afectó la irregularidad al proceso, ni el hecho de que se hiciese notar repetidamente, en el curso del juicio, modificó la sentencia. Urgente dar carpetazo legal a un asunto que puso a la población de uñas, el alfeñique ingresó en prisión, con tres cadáveres a la espalda. No se esperaba, en las alturas, que una opinión publica, supuestamente inhabilitada para fijar la atención, absorber información y procesarla, tuviese la santa paciencia de seguir aun presentador que desgranó el sumario, día a día y al detalle. Pero lo hizo y concluyó, quedando psicólogos, sociólogos, forenses y en última instancia jueces a los pies de los caballos. De resultas, la mayoría concluyó que degenerados anónimos, afectados de sadismo patológico, controlaban una importante parcela de poder que les permitía cargar con sus culpas al botones. Incómoda la sensación, se instaló un peligroso malestar, que en adelante mantendría en alerta perpetua a los servicios de inteligencia.” 0803 Es muy diferente la forma de hablar de los asesinos psicopatas, casi como si se lo tomaran a broma a como describe como el pueblo llano termina percibiendo dichos crímenes. Unas masas que prefieren hacer caso de la oficialidad y dormir tranquilas, sabiendo que la policia, que los jueces y los políticos que eligen las leyes los protegerán. Pero sin embargo, en todos y cada uno de esos casos mediáticos a poco que analicemos aparecen lagunas, contradicciones, zonas oscuras. Cuantas más contradicciones encontremos en estos casos más cerca estamos del poder-religión real y eso es lo que pasa al analizar por ejemplo el triple asesinato de las niñas de Alcasser. Las mal llamadas elites saben muy bien como escenificar estos crímenes y los medios de desinformación y ritualización se encargan de lograr preocuparnos pero sin dejarnos ver el ritual tras el obsecnario del que hablaba Pedro Bustamante. 0803a El caso Alcasser siempre se rumoreo que sirvió para realizar un pacto al mas alto nivel entre todos los poderes fácticos que operan en España. Y hablo de que todos los estratos y sectores supuestamente participaron, desde científicos a asesinos, desde grandes empresarios a artistas, desde importantes personajes religiosos a gurús de sectas paganas. Todos ellos están relacionados por los rituales de sexo y sangre. Termino leyendo tres extractos de uno de los libros fundamentales de Pedro Bustamante que debes leer, En el nombre del ano, del falo y de la matriz transhumana: “Esta distinción entre lo religioso y lo político ha sido establecida por el verdadero poder-religión en la sombra para que no se comprenda cómo opera. Porque su característica fundamental es precisamente la ocultación, porque el poder-religión es, por definición, ocultocrático. La ciencia y la religión no se oponen, como nos han querido hacer creer. La religión real tiene una dimensión política, y el poder real tiene una dimensión religiosa. Porque, en el fondo, son lo mismo, y su división es solo aparente. Una estrategia más de manipulación y control mental de masas. Y esto lo hace, aunque pueda parecer paradójico, mediante los rituales de sexo y de sangre, que precisamente porque consume y despilfarra el valor de las víctimas, dota de valor a los que participan en el ritual, esto es, a los verdugos y a las víctimas en potencia que se identifican con la víctima en el acto.” 9.Para Luisa Isabel Álvarez de Toledo, los sacrificios rituales son actos criminales de unas elites enfermas de poder, adictas al sadismo y totalmente deshumanizadas. ¿Estás de acuerdo con esta conclusión? 0900 La gente poderosa se aburre y una de las formas que tienen de entretenerse es ejercer su poder sin sufrir castigo alguno. El marqués de Sade fue un escritor, ensayista, filósofo, libertino, activista político y noble francés conocido por sus novelas libertinas y su encarcelamiento por delitos sexuales, blasfemia y pornografía. Sus obras incluyen novelas, cuentos, obras de teatro, diálogos y tratados políticos. Algunos de ellos se publicaron bajo su propio nombre durante su vida, pero la mayoría aparecieron de forma anónima o póstuma. Le es atribuida también la famosa novela Los 120 días de Sodoma o la escuela de libertinaje, que fue publicada en 1904, muchos años más tarde de la muerte del marqués de Sade y que sería su obra más famosa. Fue adaptada al cine en 1975 por el autor y cineasta neorrealista italiano Pier Paolo Pasolini, quien sería asesinado después. Este es el argumento: 0901 “En una época posterior al reinado de Luis XIV, cuatro hombres ricos y libertinos, un aristócrata, un eclesiástico, un banquero y un juez, o sea, los cuatro poderes deciden pasar 120 días en el Castillo de Silling en Suiza, entregándose a sus pasiones más depravadas. Secuestran a 8 muchachas y 8 muchachos adolescentes y, junto con otros secuaces y sirvientes, forman un grupo de 46 personas. Contratan a 4 alcahuetas para que relaten historias eróticas. Durante noviembre, se exploran 150 pasiones simples sin penetración. Los meses siguientes presentan pasiones más complejas y criminales. En diciembre, los relatos incluyen penetración, desvirginación y torturas. En enero, los actos se vuelven más extremos con bestialismo y amputaciones. En febrero, se detallan 150 maneras de asesinar, resultando en 10 muertos. En marzo, se resumen los eventos finales, con un total de 30 muertos y 16 sobrevivientes.” 0902 Saló o los 120 días de Sodoma de Pier Paolo Pasolini basada en “Los 120 días de Sodoma del marqués de Sade” iba a ser una trilogía, pero misteriosamente no pudieron realizarse las dos partes restantes tras el asesinato en extrañas circunstancias de Pasolini. Pasolini es asesinado brutalmente por Pino Pelosi, un chapero de 17 años, en un descampado de Ostia, cerca de Roma. Su cuerpo, abandonado en un vertedero, queda completamente desfigurado. El joven confesó el crimen, afirmando haber actuado en legítima defensa al ser atacado por Pasolini, que intentaba violarlo. Sade da nombre a la palabra sádico y sadismo ya que sus personajes son los característicos antihéroes, protagonistas de violaciones y de disertaciones en las que justifican sus actos, según algunos pensadores, mediante sofismas. La expresión de un ateísmo radical, además de la descripción de parafilias sexuales y actos de violencia, son los temas más recurrentes de sus escritos, en los que prima la idea del triunfo del vicio sobre la virtud. Así que sí, considero que existe una campana de Gauss que relaciona a víctimas con victimarios siendo el poder lo que te coloca en un extremo u otro de la gráfica. 10.¿Dónde podemos encontrar tus investigaciones, proyectos, etc.? 1000 Continúo en la red siempre que me es posible, y creo firmemente que el primer lugar donde la gente debería buscarme es en el blog que creé en 2014, hace ya diez años. Gracias a Google, sigue existiendo en un rincón oscuro de la web. Fue desindexado por exponer el engaño del ébola y ha permanecido así desde entonces. Solo a través del buscador del propio blog podrás acceder a algunos de mis mejores artículos. El nombre es muy sencillo: tecnicopreocupado.com. Desde allí, podrás acceder a un menú llamado "Canales UTP", donde encontrarás enlaces a mi canal de YouTube, donde aún puedes ver algunos videos increíbles que, lamentablemente, continúan desapareciendo día a día. También tengo videos en Odysee, Ugetube y Bitchute, y en todos ellos puedes buscarme como "Técnico Preocupado”. Recomiendo a todas las personas que han encontrado interesante esta entrevista que busquen nuestros videos sobre simbología y los análisis que hemos realizado sobre películas como "Blade Runner", "Eyes Wide Shut" y otras. También pueden acceder al canal de audios en iVoox llamado "Buscadores de la Verdad", donde podrás escuchar casi mil audios sobre las más diversas temáticas. Actualmente, estamos finalizando una serie de videos sobre Blasco Ibáñez, en la cual nos enfocamos en cómo nada es lo que parece y cómo este famosísimo escritor fue una pieza fundamental para acercar las posturas de las élites psicopáticas a la población. Y, por supuesto, si quieren ver lo que hago día a día, deben seguirme en Twitter. Aunque estoy bajo shadow banning, mis tuits siguen siendo muy esclarecedores. Muchas gracias, Alex, por interesarte en este Técnico Preocupado, y deseo a ti y a todos los que nos están escuchando un muy feliz verano 2024. Espero que el próximo año veamos un punto de inflexión en la consciencia de todos los seres humanos. ………………………………………………………………………………………. Anfitrión: Alex del antiguo canal ¿Qué es real? Carl Jung El Mundo Oculto https://www.youtube.com/@carljungelmundooculto/videos Invitado: UTP Ramón Valero @tecn_preocupado Un técnico Preocupado un FP2 IVOOX UTP http://cutt.ly/dzhhGrf BLOG http://cutt.ly/dzhh2LX Ayúdame desde mi Crowfunding aquí https://cutt.ly/W0DsPVq ………………………………………………………………………………………. Enlaces citados en el podcast: La ilustre degeneración. De Toledos, Mauras y Caros. https://lawebdelassombras.blogspot.com/2013/04/la-ilustre-degeneracion.html La ilustre degeneración: los rituales de la élite https://consciencia-verdad.blogspot.com/2015/01/la-ilustre-degeneracion-los-rituales-de.html Caso Nxivm: las conexiones de la secta sexual con las élites de México https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-america-latina-48428521 LA DUQUESA QUE SABIA DEMASIADO, «SEÑORA DE SANLUCAR» https://tecnicopreocupado.com/2014/12/18/la-duquesa-que-sabia-demasiado-senora-de-sanlucar/ Extractos de la entrevista de Nancy Glass al psicopata y asesino multiple Jeffrey Dahmer https://x.com/Lastname_18/status/1820612600725397813 Psicopatia. Enciclopedia Britanica https://www.britannica.com/topic/psychopathy Eugenesia https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eugenesia Malthusianismo https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malthusianismo Ley de hierro de la oligarquía https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ley_de_hierro_de_la_oligarqu%C3%ADa Haz de lictores: historia y simbolismo https://phileasdelmontesexto.com/haz-de-lictores-historia-y-simbolismo/ GOLPE DE ESTADO FEDERAL: LA TRAMA BILDERBERG PARA DESTRUIR ESPAÑA https://laverdadocultablog.wordpress.com/2017/11/15/federa-et-impera-golpe-de-estado-federal-contra-espana/ UTP42 ¡Cuidado, nos federalizan! https://www.ivoox.com/utp42-cuidado-nos-federalizan-audios-mp3_rf_26643583_1.html Pirámide de Maslow https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pir%C3%A1mide_de_Maslow Muerte de tres niñas en el acuchillamiento múltiple desata una ola de violencia en Reino Unido https://efe.com/mundo-2/2024-08-01/muerte-ninas-acuchillamiento-reino-unido/ 11M, CASO ALCASSER Y LA CAÍDA DE MARIO CONDE https://tecnicopreocupado.com/2015/11/04/11m-caso-alcasser-y-la-caida-de-mario-conde/ 22 DE MAYO, CRISIS FINANCIERA, ATENTADOS Y EL SOUFFLÉ DEL CASO MALDITO https://tecnicopreocupado.com/2018/05/06/22-de-mayo-crisis-financiera-atentados-y-el-souffle-del-caso-maldito/ Una cena preñada de tolerancia entre católicos y masones https://www.marioconde.org/blog/2010/02/un-almuerzo-prenado-de-tolerancia-entre-catolicos-y-masones/ ¿Por qué Mario Conde ha indignado a la masonería? https://www.eltriangle.eu/es/2016/06/17/noticia-es-43208/ LA CONFORMACIÓN DE LA PROVINCIA JESUÍTICA DE TOLEDO EN TORNO AL GENERALATO DE DIEGO LAÍNEZ (1556-1565) https://hispaniasacra.revistas.csic.es/index.php/hispaniasacra/article/download/420/419/419 Es Clave 003 Capítulo 005 https://odysee.com/@tecnico.preocupado:7/Es-Clave-003-Cap%C3%ADtulo-005:d? El sórdido crimen de Pier Paolo Pasolini... cineasta, poeta y atormentado. https://www.burbuja.info/inmobiliaria/threads/el-sordido-crimen-de-pier-paolo-pasolini-cineasta-poeta-y-atormentado.1852159/ Saló o los 120 días de Sodoma (abstenerse mentes débiles) https://ok.ru/video/1582822197833 ………………………………………………………………………………………. Música utilizada en este podcast: Tema inicial Heros ………………………………………………………………………………………. Epílogo Tropa do Carallo - ... O Esclavos https://youtu.be/kymD0VGXSgQ?feature=shared

google solo satan blog nos virtual desde barcelona superman pero colombia espa tambi entrevista durante babylon esto dios nuevo historia roma uno papa todas disney world italia dei espero muchas estado civil cap tenemos costa mundial dentro aunque academia santo blade runner sus nadie tal cuidado eso gente fue algunos toledo tengo castillo freud mali blanco fundaci ese ley creo vino reino unido actualmente marte alguien hab ambos banco eros verdad seis angola ay maslow congreso irak namibia fuentes sade mozambique benito mussolini juan carlos pp suarez hago grecia elites opus unas controlar bolsa contin dicho voy suiza vaticano punt efecto tendremos leyes anaconda aacute partidos liberaci urgente eyes wide shut sicilia eacute conde resulta cuantas enlaces 15m teniendo nassau last name recordemos inicios pir promover utilizando sodoma la mancha valero caros odysee psoe discursos literalmente garibaldi cito conspiraciones tribu acabo bitchute seguridad social curiosamente pasolini guardia civil desorden manzana nez francisco franco preocupado recomiendo pier paolo pasolini michels 11m monarqu ignora termino desmontando raimundo cazador antibi anfitri ausente calvi desgraciadamente tecnico braulio satanas ostia con p malthus limpias santa catalina gauss belceb sociedad civil ilustre emanuela orlandi buscadores autopsia marito marfil degeneraci el psoe jesuitas supuestamente crisis financiera observ crowfunding luis xiv papa juan pablo ii secuestran alcasser extractos oropesa fernando m mario conde dotado roberto calvi gran logia se ntilde michele sindona
Emprende GT
104 - De La Lona A Las Pantallas Led Con Allan Rodas Y Braulio Arellano

Emprende GT

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 7, 2024 30:38


Escucha este programa en vivo por Radio Actitud 100.9FM todos los Lunes a las 5:30 PM hora de Guatemala

The Philadelphia Sports Table | Philly Sports News & Views

On this installment of OPPOSITION TERRITORY, Braulio Perez from GMenHQ.com over at Fandsided joined us for a great discussion about the NFC East and how these four teams are looking heading into training camp and the 2024-2025 NFL season. Are the Eagles the team to beat? Are the Commanders the rising team in the division?Braulio and Jeff discussed the following:Reflections on the Giants front office and their direction after the Hard Knocks docuseries aired.Are the Cowboys poised to take a step back this coming season?Even though they're still restructuring their franchise, should we be on the lookout for the Commanders?Can the Eagles become the standard in the NFC and outright win the division?All of this and much more this week on Opposition Territory!Head over to our website for all of our podcasts and more: philadelphiasportstable.com.Follow us on Threads:Jeff: @mrjeffwarrenErik: @slen1023Follow us on Twitter/X:Jeff: @Jeffrey_WarrenLen: @LenHunsickerErik: @BrickPollittFollow the show on Instagram: instagram.com/philadelphiasportstable.

The Sim Cafe~
Transforming Healthcare Education Through High-Fidelity Simulation Training at UT Health San Antonio

The Sim Cafe~

Play Episode Listen Later May 21, 2024 26:46 Transcription Available


Step into the cutting-edge world of healthcare education with Jim Cleveland and Braulio Amezaga from UT Health San Antonio, who are transforming patient outcomes through the power of simulation training. This episode promises an enriching journey through the 17,000 square foot simulation center, where the fusion of high-fidelity simulations and team dynamics is reshaping the future of clinical education. Discover how Jim's expertise in trauma and emergency care informs his research, and how Braulio's technical acumen ensures seamless operations, as they both emphasize the essential roles of communication and teamwork in this innovative educational approach.Gain exclusive insights into the evolution of simulation in healthcare, propelled by groundbreaking studies from the Texas Higher Education Board. The discussion reveals how high-fidelity simulations are revolutionizing the CRNA program and the intertwined efforts with UTSA's health schools, propelling interprofessional education to new heights. As we conclude, you'll marvel at the rigorous process and subsequent triumph of achieving Society for Simulation in Healthcare Accreditation. The dedication of Jim, Braulio, and their team showcases a commitment to educational excellence that not only meets international standards but also guides future growth in this dynamic field.Innovative SimSolutions.Your turnkey solution provider for medical simulation programs, sim centers & faculty design.

O Assunto
Madonna, a rainha do pop e da reinvenção

O Assunto

Play Episode Listen Later May 2, 2024 32:04


São 40 anos de hits, barreiras quebradas e influência na música, na moda, no comportamento e na cultura. Em 4 décadas de carreira, Madonna se reinventou em muitas: foi símbolo sexual, rebelde, dançarina, atriz, espiritualizada... Com uma história de números superlativos, a cantora está no Brasil para fazer o maior show de sua história. Para entender como Madonna se tornou a maior estrela do pop de todos os tempos, Natuza Nery conversa com Braulio Lorentz, editor de Pop&Arte do g1, e com Dudu Bertholini, estilista e comunicador de moda. Braulio explica como Madonna é “completa”, e foi pioneira ao fazer “shows performance”, com trocas de figurino, dezenas de dançarinos e coreografias – movimento depois copiado por nomes como Beyoncé e Taylor Swift. Braulio fala também como a cantora também foi das primeiras artistas a levantar discussões sobre a liberdade sexual feminina e a comunidade LGBT: “além de ser música para dançar, é música para pensar”, diz. Fã de Madonna desde criança, Dudu Bertholini fala da influência da cantora na moda e no comportamento, principalmente como símbolo da comunidade LGBT. “Madonna foi revolucionária e tem papel crucial” ao defender a liberdade sexual e diferentes identidades de gênero. Dudu destaca como a trajetória da cantora atravessa fatos históricos e agora cruza com a discussão sobre o etarismo: “Madonna é um exemplo de como ser a melhor versão de você em cada idade”. Ele conta ainda como foram as duas vezes em que esteve lado a lado com a diva pop.

Manuel López San Martín
Renata Turrent, Kenia López y Braulio López hablan de cómo llegan los candidatos al próximo debate - 15 abril 2024.

Manuel López San Martín

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 15, 2024 32:30


En entrevista para MVS Noticias con Manuel López San Martín, Kenia López Rabadán de la coalición “Fuerza y Corazón por México” representada por Xóchitl Gálvez; Renata Turrent de la coalición “Sigamos haciendo historia” de Claudia Sheinbaum; y Braulio López Ochoa, coordinador parlamentario de Movimiento Ciudadano en Cámara de Diputados en representación de Jorge Álvarez Máynez, participaron en una mesa de análisis y debate sobre la elección presidencial del próximo 2 de junio.   Para abrir la conversación, Kenia López acusó al gobierno de Morena de ladrones, luego de que se aprobara en la Cámara de Diputados la iniciativa del Fondo de Pensiones para el Bienestar en la que el gobierno pretende disponer de las Afores que jamás fueron reclamadas por los trabajadores.  En respuesta, Renata Turrent acusó al  PAN de oponerse a los programas sociales y de aprobar pensiones únicamente para las personas que lo necesiten.   Por su parte, Braulio López consideró que esta iniciativa de la 4T requiere de un análisis más profundo en conjunto con el ISSSTE, IMSSS y Hacienda, porque si bien es cierto hay una necesidad de modificar las pensiones, el hecho de hacer esta reforma en época electoral deja mucho qué pensar.    Debate presidencial: Temas y posturas de los candidatos   En otro orden de ideas, los participantes de la mesa de análisis hablaron de cómo llegan sus candidatos al próximo debate presidencial, luego de la diferencia de opiniones que generó el primer ejercicio de diálogo del INE.  Durante su intervención, Kenia López acusó a Claudia Sheinbaum de mentir en su declaración patrimonial, luego de que aseguró que habita en una casa rentada en la CDMX, cuando en realidad tiene cuatro propiedades. "Claudia Sheinbaum perdió todo su patrimonio para mentir, están obsesionados con tener poder. Los programas sociales van a continuar, van a tener salud y seguridad, hoy le quieren quitar las Afores a los mexicanos...Este 2 de junio la única alternativa que tiene este país es votar por Xóchitl", expresó.   En respuesta, Renata Turrent, negó las acusaciones de su candidata y se limitó a enumerar algunos de los logros de la actual administración como "peso a niveles del 2015, inversión extranjera, recaudación de impuestos, inflación controlada, salario mínimo con un incremento", dijo. Por su parte, Braulio López calificó las posturas de las dos contrincantes de fantasiosas, asegurando que Jorge Álvarez Máynez fue el único candidato que realmente puso sobre la mesa de debate propuestas, ideas y respondió a todas las preguntas evitando la confrontación.    "Hubo un crecimiento de Máynez en 800 puntos. Ya rebasó a Xóchitl Gálvez en redes, hay resultados muy positivos. La canción Máynez presidente es un éxito en Spotify", expresó.   En materia de seguridad, uno de los temas que tocará el próximo debate, Renata Turrent aseguró que Claudia Sheinbaum es la única que tiene experiencia, luego de los resultados que obtuvo durante su gestión como Jefa de Gobierno de la CDMX.  En tanto, Kenia López dijo que el objetivo de Xóchitl Gálvez es que "todos tengan las mismas posibilidades, los programas sociales se quedan, lo que no se puede quedar es esa corrupción que tiene AMLO".   Y Braulio López aseguró que una de las propuestas de Máynez en materia de seguridad es apostar por un plan de pacificación nacional. "Combatir la seguridad a nivel local, creer en los policías, hay policías que no tienen seguridad, no tienen elementos suficientes para hacer su trabajo, los dos han votado por la misma estrategia de seguridad...", dijo.  Candidatos presidenciales sostienen sus propuestas de campaña  Para terminar, Kenia López declaró que cuando Xóchitl Gálvez sea presidente todos los mexicanos tendrán acceso a un sistema de salud digno, habrá prosperidad y sobre todo se va a respetar la vida.  Braulio López señaló que algo de lo que ninguna de las candidatas han hablado hasta ahora es de cómo van a financiar su proyecto de nación, es por ello que Máynez y su equipo analizan impulsar una reforma fiscal que pueda atender los temas que realmente le importan al país.  Y finalmente Renata Turrent destacó que Claudia Sheinbaum es hasta ahora la única candidata que su trabajo habla por sí misma con número reales y resultados en materia de seguridad. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

False Start - College Football Podcast
Episode 63: College Football Super League, DJ Burns In NFL Draft, Loose On the Palouse and Little Giants (ft. Braulio Perez)

False Start - College Football Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 6, 2024 85:00


The College Football Super League has a proposal and it's... way better than you're probably thinking. And hey, maybe that will get Washington State back into the forefront of CFB! Braulio Perez, our guest for the week, sure hopes so. Plus, DJ Burns might somehow be a legitimate NFL Draft prospect as a basketball player, Bo Nix ain't about this SEC life, Little Giants is the peak of cinema, and the New York Giants are a turning point for the 2024 draft. John Buhler (Staff Writer, FanSided.com) and Cody Williams (Senior Editor, FanSided.com) are joined by the legend Braulio Perez (Senior Editor, GMenHQ.com) and break down a wild offseason week in college football and much more. 

Manuel López San Martín
Kenia López, Renata Turrent y Braulio López debaten rumbo a las Elecciones presidenciales 2024 - 01 abril 2024.

Manuel López San Martín

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 1, 2024 31:10


En entrevista para MVS Noticias con Manuel López San Martín, Kenia López Rabadán por la Coalición Fuerza y Corazón por México con Xóchitl Gálvez, Renata Turrent con Claudia Sheinbaum por coalición Sigamos Haciendo Historia y Braulio López Ochoa, Coordinador parlamentario de Movimiento Ciudadano en Cámara de Diputados, hablaron en una mesa de análisis y debate sobre la Elección para la Presidencia de México. ¿Cómo van los candidatos por la presidencia de México?   Kenia López Rabadán comenzó mencionando que Sheinbaum está preocupada, “va a perder el debate, Xóchitl va a ganar, qué dirá la señora corcholata que va a eliminar al INAI, todo lo que se ha llevado la señora Nahle, qué bueno por Veracruz, hoy a los corruptos no les hacen nada, qué bueno que tratan así a los corruptos los ciudadanos, bienvenidos estos temas importantes para el primer debate”. Renata Turrent respondió asegurando que los candidatos son los que van a brillar, resaltó el tema sobre las encuestas, “se mueven poco, a favor de Claudia, en las encuestas serias, El Financiero lanza una donde muestra que la gente piensa que Claudia Sheinbaum propone más que atacar. La gente ya no quiere estar recibiendo ataques, los ejes han ido poniendo la agenda, como salud, esta semana se presenta el de anticorrupción para crear una agencia especializada”. Por otro lado, Braulio López Ochoa aseveró que están contentos en MC, “estamos en momento de debates, las candidatas iniciaron con tiempos anticipados de campañas, si aplicaran las reglas electorales, ninguna tendría derecho a registrarse como candidata. Hay dos puntos, donde todo está bien y otro donde no, hay que debatir, el debate dará una nueva cara a las campañas, aumentará el interés”. Kenia López asegura que Xóchitl Gálvez dará continuidad a programas sociales “La gente tiene que saber que los programas sociales no son de la chequera de López Obrador, obviamente son de los mexicanos, le hemos pedido al INE que haga una campaña nacional, para garantizar que no haya parcialidad. No estamos pidiendo algo que no haya sucedido, ningún partido puede quitar los programas sociales… Xóchitl dijo que los programas van a continuar”, explicó. ¿El tema de transparencia es importante? Renata Turrent indicó que Javier Corral y Sheinbaum afirman que el titular de la presidencia debe ser transparente para tener un gobierno honesto. “No es suficiente que el presidente sea integro para que todos lo sean, se tiene que hacer en la estructura del estado, no solo del ejecutivo”. “La oposición está envuelta en la idea de país que no han podido construir una propuesta de trabajo, la gente a la fecha lo sabe, no es clara la propuesta de su candidata más que restaurar el viejo régimen”, mencionó. Por otra parte, Braulio López Ochoa mencionó que le ha costado a Máynez darse a conocer, pero ya lo están identificando, “ha hecho una campaña de contraste, ha ido a las universidades, creo que, a diferencia de las otras candidatas, tiene un enfoque informativo, Xóchitl propone que debatan a Claudia, pero no dijo nada, Máynez dijo debatamos, pero Gálvez ya no dijo nada. Sheinbaum no va a las universidades”. ¿Qué propone Xóchitl para el tema de transparencia? “La señora corcholata solo tiene 8 propuestas en el tema de transparencia, Xóchitl tiene 24, les gusta solo robarse la lana… Perseguir los casos evidentes de corrupción, Bartlett tiene más casas que nadie, la señora de Veracruz, luego fortalecer las auditorias, se tiene que saber por qué los hijos de Obrador vivían en Houston, luego una plataforma nacional de transparencia, lo que quieren es lastimar, como con el INAI”, indicó Kenia López Rabadán. ¿Qué propone Sheinbaum para el tema de transparencia? “No me parece ético que se roben los colores del INE, les da vergüenza el color de sus colores de partidos como el PAN y el PRI… Tener 8 mil propuestas no es un buen manejo de gobierno, Sheinbaum propone que una agencia federal pueda investigar casos de corrupción, se basa en el tema de digitalización como se hizo en CDMX, es simplificar datos para que la gente lo vea”, afirmó Renata Turrent. Braulio López Ochoa expresó que hay muchas dudas en la transparencia, “decimos cuál gobierno es peor, ninguno se compromete con la agenda, Segalmex, un caso, está la estafa maestra, el PAN y el PRI acuerdan cómo repartirse cargos, poca transparencia, obras públicas como el Tren Maya, no transparentan información para el cuidado del medio ambiente”. Para finalizar el debate rumbo a las Elecciones presidenciales 2024, Kenia López Rabadán mencionó: “Xóchitl Gálvez quiere que haya seguridad y que el dinero de los mexicanos se ocupe para los mexicanos. Van a perder las elecciones”. Por otro lado, Renata Turrent indicó: “Cierro con datos del INEGI, a nivel federal hubo disminución en la percepción de la corrupción, en personas que experimentan corrupción, en CDMX en actos de 39.8 por ciento, es falso que Sheinbaum no está comprometida”. Y Braulio López Ochoa mencionó: “No son dos opciones, son tres, nos ha costado mucho, es la primera candidatura presidencial, Máynez es valiente y la última alternativa, el PRIAN no es dueño de la oposición, Morena no es el único gobierno”.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Your Mom's House with Christina P. and Tom Segura
Beefing With The FBI w/ Insane Clown Posse (Shaggy 2 Dope & Violent J) | Your Mom's House Ep. 749

Your Mom's House with Christina P. and Tom Segura

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 6, 2024 109:43


Tom's new Come Together Tour is coming to Texas and Florida this month! Get tickets now by going to https://tomsegura.com/tour SPONSORS: Go to https://Shopify.com/momshouse to get a one-dollar-per-month trial period. Head to https://Babbel.com/YMH to get 50% off a ONE-TIME PAYMENT FOR A LIFETIME Babbel subscription. Don't miss out on all the action this week at DraftKings! Download the DraftKings app today! Sign-up using https://dkng.co/mom or through my promo code MOM. Head to http://policygenius.com/YMH to get your free life insurance quotes and see how much you could save. Pull those JNCO jeans up, ninjas! This week Tim and Christine welcome the infamous Insane Clown Posse, Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J to YMH Studio! Before the clowns enter the Mommy Dome, Tom Segura and Christina P open with a cool clip from KingCobra, talk about the movie Joker, lifelong bits, old school TV commercials, Braulio the cool guy from Alaska, Robert DeNiro, a mother/son OnlyFans duo, plus another airtight story! ICP joins in and talks about what they've been up to lately, including Violent J's return to wrestling in Japan and his stand-up comedy performance on Kill Tony. They also clear the air on their past issues with the FBI and how their fans were openly considered a criminal organization. They also talk about the Beastie Boys, guilty pleasures, ball lifts, the Double Soul Shaman, some erotic fiction, Christina's TikTok curations, and locker room talk. WHOOP WHOOP! https://tomsegura.com/tour https://christinaponline.com/tour-dates https://store.ymhstudios.com https://www.reddit.com/r/yourmomshousepodcast Your Mom's House Ep. 749 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

SIN MIEDO OmarCrew
CASO BRAULIO: TODA SU VERDAD SIN CENSURA | El Podcast de OmarCrew

SIN MIEDO OmarCrew

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 21, 2024 82:47


En esta ocasión, les traemos una segunda parte muy pedida por todos ustedes... Una vez más en el estudio nos acompaña BRAULIO DANIEL. Han ocurrido muchas cosas después de escapar de la SECTA, el perder a su abuelo por culpa de BRUJERÍA, encontrar el amor, su estado grave de salud, y mucho más. Nos cuenta también SIN CENSURA, todo lo que realmente ocurría en ese lugar, donde el poder y el dinero lo son todo. ¡Gracias por ver! Únete a la #FamiliaSINMIEDO y descubre qué hay mas allá de esta realidad... Únete a la conversación en nuestras Redes Sociales: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/podcastomarcrewmx https://www.facebook.com/sinmmiedoomarcrew Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sinmiedoomarcrew TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sinmiedoomarcrew

Beto Podcast
#134 - Braulio Castillo | Food Cop, Psicología y Actuación

Beto Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 23, 2023 103:06


El actor Braulio Castillo se fue viral recientemente por un comentario sobre la dieta alimenticia de una persona en sobrepeso que vio en una panadería. La conversación que surgió de ese comentario destapó una confusión moral del mundo moderno. Por un lado hay quienes entienden que lo correcto es nunca meterse ni opinar sobre la vida de extraños y hay otros que entienden correcto, en ocasiones, comentar, aconsejar o hasta intervenir en la vida de los demás cuando estos actúan de manera auto-destructiva. En esta conversación profundizo sobre la situación y esta dilema con Braulio Castillo. Braulio es un actor puertorriqueño de teatro, cine y televisión.

El Rant de Ax
Ranteo S3 E46: Braulio

El Rant de Ax

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 16, 2023 15:47


Vamos a hablar M de lo de Braulio y un piscolabi.

La Hora Machorra
#163 - Braulio Castillo Triste Por La Gente Obesa

La Hora Machorra

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 15, 2023 78:34


Otro miércoles machorr0 donde venimos con un rundown que tiene más sangre que el piso de una carnicería o una Caravan llena de mujeres menstruando. Un güelebicho mata a alguien, se va a la fuga y sale sin cumplir ni un diíta en la cárcel, dentista anestesia a paciente con un tirito, sale en libertad el mataperros de Río Grande y ahora podrá pasear a su mascota a las 3:00 am en el nuevo parque de San Juan si Puruco se lo permite. Botan a una momia con el pelo pinta'o del PPD, Bernabe no puede trabajar pensando en Israel y Valentina, y los boricuas desbloquean un nuevo miedo: que Braulio Castillo te juzgue el desayuno en una panadería. Recuerda: si te ofendes, eso no es problema de nosotros. ¡Desde GW-Cinco, esto es #LaHoraMachorra! SI ERES DE MAYAGÜEZ, CIALES, O CAYEY VE PA'L SHOW DE OSCAR: https://boletos.boletera.net/e/pa-la-isla-stand-up-comedy USA EL CÓDIGO "MACHORRO" PARA UN 20% DE DESCUENTO EN: https://www.manscaped.com/ LAS MEJORES ARTESANÍAS: https://prartisans.com/ LA MEJOR MARCA DE ROPA BORICUA: https://www.resistancecompany.com/ PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/lahoramachorra INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/lahoramachorra/ CANAL DE CLIPS: https://www.youtube.com/c/lahoramachorraclips EL MEJOR STUDIO DE PE ERRE: https://www.instagram.com/gw_cinco/ Hosts: Alexis 'Macetaminofén' Zárraga, José Valiente & Oscar Navarro === REDES === Maceta https://www.facebook.com/TioMacetaminofen https://twitter.com/Macetaminofen https://www.instagram.com/macetaminofen/ Valiente https://www.youtube.com/user/valiente101 https://twitter.com/JoseValiente https://www.instagram.com/josevalientepr/ Oscar https://linktr.ee/oscarnavarropr   

El Despelote podcast
Rocky opina sobre el post de braulio castillo - Con Rocky Y Burbu #ElDespelote #94.7

El Despelote podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 13, 2023 13:39


Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

El Despelote podcast
Rocky opina sobre el post de braulio castillo - Con Rocky Y Burbu #ElDespelote #94.7

El Despelote podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 13, 2023 12:54


Magnates del Ladrillo

Te cuento el Secreto de Braulio, un joven de 25 años para jubilarse antes de los 65-70 años y Vivir de las Rentas Inmobiliarias - La Biblia del Magnate del Ladrillo ✅ Pide tu Ejemplar físico: https://amzn.eu/d/6TzdlnB ✅ Compra tu ebook: https://amzn.eu/d/adNodTm ✅ Newsletter: https://magnatesladrillo.com/kit-inversor-gratis/ ✅ Telegram: https://t.me/+TfmMSpUU2IoxM2Y0 #magnatesladrillo #inversiones #charliehoyos #libertadfinanciera #finanzas 84acb795ccf627d6502aa1fef8629b70  Support us on Patreon, PayPal and Tipeee!

Así las cosas con Carlos Loret de Mola
#Entrevista con Braulio Arsuaga

Así las cosas con Carlos Loret de Mola

Play Episode Listen Later Oct 31, 2023 9:33


Daños a hoteles en Acapulco

SIN MIEDO OmarCrew
CASO BRAULIO: ESTOY OBLIGADO A PERTENECER... ESTA ES MI HISTORIA REAL ¡ENTREVISTA EN EXCLUSIVA! | El Podcast de OmarCrew

SIN MIEDO OmarCrew

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 30, 2023 71:16


CASO BRAULIO: ESTOY OBLIGADO A PERTENECER... ESTA ES MI HISTORIA REAL ¡ENTREVISTA EN EXCLUSIVA! | El Podcast de OmarCrew

Molusco TV Podcast
Braulio Fogón: Problemas en el Dembow, Rochi RD, las Dr0g@s y lo que no dijo de su secuestro

Molusco TV Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 29, 2023 48:12


Leyendas Legendarias
Historias del Más Acá 119 - Lo que pasa en Las Vegas…

Leyendas Legendarias

Play Episode Listen Later Jun 15, 2023 58:46


Notas Macabrosas - Mujer capta a presuntas 'brujas' en un ritual; se estaban comiendo cadáver de un ciervo  - La policía de Las Vegas responde al informe de una 'criatura de 10 pies' en el patio después de un destello verde en el cielo - Cuatro niños desaparecidos finalmente fueron encontrados el viernes en lo más remoto de la selva amazónica colombiana  - Mujer ecuatoriana que estaba siendo velada en su funeral resulta estar viva.  Rincón de Lectura - Borre nos lee una historia titulada “Braulio en mi apartamento” de su libro favorito: “La Rata Con Thinner y Otras Anécdotas de La Sociedad Latinoamericana Actual” También puedes escucharnos en Youtube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts o tu app de podcasts favorita. Apóyanos en Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/leyendaspodcast​ Apóyanos en YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/leyendaslegendarias/join Síguenos: https://instagram.com/leyendaspodcast​ https://twitter.com/leyendaspodcast​ https://facebook.com/leyendaspodcast​ #Podcast​ #LeyendasLegendarias​ #HistoriasDelMasAca Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Chente Ydrach
Masacote - Braulio Castillo: ser el mejor actor, descubrir su cáncer, la mejor y peor noche de su vida, y mas…

Chente Ydrach

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 8, 2023 65:01