Podcasts about Miyako

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

Last time we spoke about the Visayas Offensive. In March 1945, the Pacific War raged on. On Iwo Jima, the US Marines, after intense fighting and heavy casualties, declared the island secured. Meanwhile, in northern Luzon, General Clarkson's division advanced towards Baguio, facing fierce Japanese resistance, while General Mullins pushed through Balete Pass. The Japanese army, grappling with severe supply shortages, was forced to evacuate Baguio. In the Visayas, General Eichelberger's forces targeted the Sulu Archipelago and Central Visayan Islands, securing key airfields. The 40th Division landed on Panay, capturing Iloilo, and launched an assault on northern Negros. On Cebu, the Americal Division landed near Talisay, encountering mines but minimal resistance, and secured Cebu City. By April, Allied forces had made strategic advances across the Philippines, overcoming Japanese resistance and establishing crucial airfields. This episode is the Invasion of okinawa Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.  We have come to the grand final battlefield at last, that of Okinawa. Of course battles are raging in all sorts of other theaters like New Guinea, China, Burma, etc. However as you might imagine its becoming impossible given the week by week format to cover all of this in single episodes. So we are going to hardcore focus on Okinawa for awhile, we will circle back to the other theaters to catch up. Seriously it was the only logical way to do this and honestly in retrospect I wish the entire podcast was campaign by campaign instead of week by week. But I am a mere podcaster following the youtube series of this. But if you want to hear a campaign by campaign series, over at Echoes of War me and my cohost Gaurav are beginning to roll them out. The first series will be the entire Malayan Campaign, and I think after that I might try to do the Philippines. Regardless lets jump into the invasion of Okinawa. As previously noted, the directive issued by the Joint Chiefs of Staff on October 3 designated Okinawa as the final target for invasion, following the establishment of air and naval bases in Luzon and Iwo Jima. Capturing this crucial island would bring the conflict to Japan's doorstep, disrupt the enemy's air communications through the Ryukyu Islands, and flank their maritime routes to the south. Consequently, from these newly established air and naval bases in the Ryukyus, American forces would be able to launch attacks on Japan's main islands and implement a more rigorous sea and air blockade, isolating them from Japanese territories to the south. This made it imperative for the Japanese Empire to maintain control over Okinawa and the Ryukyus. To this end, the 32nd Army, led by Lieutenant-General Watanabe Masao, was formed there by late March 1944. Initially, it comprised four companies and one artillery regiment stationed at Amami Oshima; five companies and one artillery regiment at Nakagusuku Bay; four companies and one artillery regiment at Iriomote Island; along with various garrison units from the 19th Air District in Okinawa.  Under Operation Tei-Go, the Ryukyus and Formosa were to form a long zone of interprotective air bases. These bases were expected to defeat any American sea or air forces sent into the region. To avoid destruction from the air, each base was to consist of a cluster of airfields, such that if one were damaged others could be used immediately. Military and civilian crews were promptly set to work building the numerous fields. 13 base clusters had to be created, stretching in a line from Tachiarai in the northern Ryukyus to Pingting on Formosa in the south. The only remaining tasks for ground forces were the defense of these facilities and their support anchorages and the unenviable work of building the fields. Much of the energy of 32nd Army would be absorbed building these air facilities. This was more difficult since 32nd Army had only two bulldozers and one earth roller. Japan had produced dozers in small numbers at its Komatsu plant since 1943, but few had reached the front. Since soldiers were thus obliged to use shovels, hoes, straw baskets, and horse-drawn wagons, construction was slow. Moreover, because of enemy submarine raiders, it was impossible for the Japanese to deliver the large quantities of fuel, ammunition, and anti-aircraft guns needed to operate the bases. Even more seriously, the planes themselves were not available. Between April and June, the 32nd Army received reinforcements, including the 44th and 45th Independent Mixed Brigades, the 21st Independent Mixed Regiment, and the 27th Independent Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion, among other air garrison units. From these forces, Watanabe chose to send the 45th Brigade to establish bases on Miyako Island and Ishigaki Island, while the 21st Regiment was tasked with setting up a base on Tokunoshima. On June 27, the 1st and 2nd Infantry Corps (approx. 4100 men) boarded the Toyama Maru and began the voyage to Okinawa. The 44th Brigade HQ, Artillery and Engineer Units meanwhile boarded other vessels of the Taka-412 convoy. Two days later, while the convoy was sailing east of Tokunoshima, the submarine Sturgeon successfully sank the Toyama Maru with two torpedoes, therefore inflicting the loss of 3724 men and much heavy equipment. Because of this, the 1st Corps had to be deactivated.  Following the fall of Saipan, the Japanese Empire rapidly deployed significant ground forces to the 32nd Army, including the 9th, 24th, 28th, and 62nd Divisions, as well as the 59th, 60th, and 64th Independent Mixed Brigades, and the 27th Tank Regiment. Additionally, the 15th Independent Mixed Regiment was airlifted to bolster the beleaguered 44th Brigade, which was reorganizing its 2nd Corps with local recruits. The 32nd Army Staff wished to use as much of the indigenous population as it could in direct support of the war effort, so on January 1 1945 it ordered total mobilization. All Okinawan males aged 18 to 45 were obliged to enter the Japanese service. 39000 were drafted, of whom 15000 were used as nonuniformed laborers and 24000 as rear-echelon troops called the Home Guard (Boeitai). Many of the Boeitai replaced sea based battalions and rear-area supply units that had been reorganized and equipped for frontline duty. In addition to these, 1500 of the senior boys of the middle schools on Okinawa were organized into Iron and Blood Volunteer Units and assigned to frontline duty. Some of these students had been tried out in the signal service in the autumn of 1944 with good results, so the program was expanded. Since the fall of 1944, 600 senior students of the girls' middle schools also had been given training in the medical service. While most of these troops were sent to strengthen the main defenses at Okinawa, a large portion of the 28th Division was actually assigned to reinforce the garrisons on the Miyako and Yaeyama Islands. The 36th Regiment was dispatched to support the Daito Islands, the entire 45th Brigade was moved to garrison Ishigaki and the rest of the Yaeyamas, the 59th Brigade was tasked with defending Irabu Island, the 60th Brigade was sent to reinforce Miyako Island, and the 64th Brigade was deployed to the Amami Islands. On August 9, Lieutenant-General Ushijima Mitsuru took command of the 32nd Army. His initial strategy was to occupy all of Okinawa with a strong force and eliminate any invading troops at their landing sites. As fierce fighting began at Leyte, intensive training for the troops commenced, including divisional maneuvers at potential American landing points, artillery bombardments of beachheads, and nighttime assaults on bridges. However, on November 13, Tokyo decided to send the elite 9th Division to Formosa to prepare for a movement to the Philippines that ultimately did not occur. The unexpected withdrawal of the 32nd Army's best division disrupted Ushijima's operational plans. Ironically, this situation improved combat efficiency, as it compelled the army to achieve more with fewer resources. Ushijima chose to concentrate most of his forces in the mountainous and easily defensible Shimajiri area, located in the southern part of the island. This strategic location allowed the Japanese to maintain control over Naha port and target the northern airfields with artillery. Similar to the situation in Iwo Jima, this decision marked a departure from the previously favored strategy of a "decisive battle," opting instead for a war of attrition that had proven effective at Peleliu and Iwo Jima. As a result, Ushijima positioned Lieutenant-General Amamiya Tatsumi's reinforced 24th Division at the southern end of the island, Lieutenant-General Hongo Yoshio's reinforced 62nd Division along the central isthmus, Major-General Suzuki Shigeji's reinforced 44th Independent Mixed Brigade on the Hagushi plain, and Colonel Udo Takehiko's Kunigami Detachment, consisting of two battalions from the 2nd Corps, in northern Okinawa. These troop placements were successfully implemented in December; however, concerns arose that the 32nd Army was spread too thin to effectively counter the anticipated enemy invasion. Consequently, on January 15, Ushijima decided to move the 44th Brigade from the Hagushi plain southward to overlap with the 62nd Division's area on the east, significantly shortening the Japanese front. Additionally, one battalion from the Kunigami Detachment was sent to defend Iejima and its crucial airbase, which necessitated the rest of the unit to consolidate its positions and strengthen defenses on Yaedake Mountain in the Motobu Peninsula. Ushijima also had the support of the brigade-sized 5th Artillery Group, led by Lieutenant-General Wada Kosuke; the 21st Field Anti-Aircraft Artillery Corps; the 11th Shipping Group, which included several shipping engineer regiments and sea-raiding battalions; the 19th Air District overseeing various aviation service units; and Rear-Admiral Ota Minoru's Okinawa Naval Base Force, which comprised nearly 9,000 personnel stationed at the Oroku Naval Air Base near Naha. Ushijima had nearly 100,000 troops at his command, with 29,000 assigned to specialized units for anti-aircraft, sea-raiding, and airfield operations. Anticipating the nature of the impending conflict, these well-staffed service units were reorganized for ground combat. The 19th Air District transformed into the 1st Specially Established Regiment, responsible for defending the Yontan and Kadena airfields it had recently constructed and maintained. Most of the service personnel were integrated into the new 1st Specially Established Brigade in the Naha-Yonabaru area, while the sea-raiding base battalions became independent infantry units. Additionally, the remainder of the 11th Shipping Group was restructured into the 2nd Specially Established Brigade on the southwestern part of Okinawa. This reorganization, completed on March 21, bolstered ground combat strength by 14,000 men, leaving only 10,500 of the 67,000 Army personnel in specialized roles. To protect themselves, the Japanese began constructing robust fortifications, tunnels, and cave systems to shield against anticipated enemy bombardments.  Work on the caves was begun with great vigor. "Confidence in victory will be born from strong fortifications" was the soldiers' slogan. The caves meant personal shelter from the fierce bombardments that were sure to come, and they also offered a shimmering hope of victory. The combination was irresistible, and units began to work passionately on their own caves. Enthusiasm was essential because of the great toil it took to create the caves. Just as 32nd Army had only two bulldozers to make airfields, it had no mechanized tunneling equipment at all. Besides lacking cutting equipment, 32nd Army also lacked construction materials. It had no cement, no ironware, and no dynamite. The units had to rely entirely on wooden beams that they obtained themselves to shore up their shafts. This was not necessarily easy because there were no forests in the south of the island where the troops were now stationed. Pine forests were abundant in the mountainous north, however, so each unit was assigned its own lumbering district in the north. Several hundred men from each division were detailed as its lumbering squad. The problem remained, however, of how to move the several million logs that were needed over the 40 or so miles from the forests to the forts. With no railroads and the use of trucks limited by a shortage of gasoline, the solution was for each unit to cut its own logs, then transport them in small native boats called sabenis. The divisions acquired 70 of these, which then plied the waters steadily from north to south. In January 1945, however, the Leyte-based B-24s that began flying over daily for reconnaissance also began strafing the boats. So the waterborne delivery of logs had to be switched from day to night, greatly lowering efficiency. Ushijima aimed to prolong the fight from these positions and decided to destroy the indefensible Yontan and Kadena airfields to prevent their use by the enemy, effectively ending the ineffective air defense strategy initially devised by Tokyo. Meanwhile, Admirals Nimitz and Spruance were preparing for Operation Iceberg, the invasion of Okinawa. Given the expectation that the capture of Iwo Jima and recent air assaults on Japan would concentrate enemy air power around the Empire's core, which would respond aggressively to any attacks on Okinawa, the Americans needed to first neutralize or eliminate enemy air facilities in the Ryukyus, Kyushu, and Formosa to achieve air superiority over their objective. As a result, all available carrier-based and land-based air forces were tasked with this operation, including Admiral Mitscher's Task Force 58, General Kenney's Far East Air Forces, Admiral Hoover's Central Pacific Forward Area, and General Arnold's 20th Air Force. From the 20th Air Force, General LeMay's 21st Bomber Command was assigned to attack Okinawa before moving on to Kyushu and other vulnerable locations in the home islands. Meanwhile, Brigadier-General Roger Ramey's 20th Bomber Command, supported by General Chennault's 14th Air Force, focused on neutralizing Formosa. Aircraft from the Southwest Pacific Area were also set to conduct searches and continuous strikes against Formosa as soon as conditions on Luzon allowed. Additionally, the British carriers of Vice-Admiral Bernard Rawlings' Task Force 57 were tasked with neutralizing air installations on the Sakishima Group in the ten days leading up to the landings. Once air superiority was achieved, Spruance's 5th Fleet was to land Lieutenant-General Simon Buckner's 10th Army, which included Major-General John Hodge's 24th Corps and Major-General Roy Geiger's 3rd Amphibious Corps. The 24th Corps comprised the 7th and 96th Divisions, while the 3rd Amphibious Corps included the 1st and 6th Marine Divisions. As the Commanding General of Expeditionary Troops, Buckner also oversaw the 27th and 77th Divisions and the 2nd Marine Division for special operations and reserve purposes. Furthermore, the 81st Division was held in area reserve. In total, Buckner commanded a force of 183,000 troops, with 116,000 designated for the initial landings. The plan called for Major-General Andrew Bruce's 77th Division to first secure amphibious bases in the Kerama Islands on March 26, with one battalion further securing Keisejima five days later to establish a field artillery group there. On April 1, following a demonstration by the 2nd Marine Division in southern Okinawa, the main landings were set to take place. The 24th Corps and the 3rd Amphibious Corps would land simultaneously on the west coast beaches north and south of Hagushi. After landing, both corps were to quickly advance across the island, capturing the airfields in their designated areas before securing all of southern and central Okinawa. Subsequently, Buckner's forces were to invade and secure Iejima and northern Okinawa. Once this was achieved, there were tentative plans to launch an invasion of Kikaijima with the 1st Marine Division and Miyako Island with the 5th Amphibious Corps. For the invasion, Spruance relied on a Covering Force under his command, along with Admiral Turner's Joint Expeditionary Force. This force included Admiral Blandy's Amphibious Support Force, which comprised minesweepers, UDTs, and escort carriers; Rear-Admiral Morton Deyo's Gunfire and Covering Force, consisting of ten battleships and eight heavy cruisers; Rear-Admiral Lawrence Reifsnider's Northern Attack Force, responsible for landing the 3rd Amphibious Corps; and Rear-Admiral John Hall's Southern Attack Force, tasked with landing the 24th Corps. Similar to Iwo Jima, Okinawa had endured multiple air attacks since October 1944 as part of the preliminary operations for the landings on Leyte, Luzon, and Iwo Jima that we previously discussed. These operations also included air strikes aimed at neutralizing Japanese air power on Formosa. Throughout February and March, Mitscher's carriers and LeMay's B-29s brought the conflict back to the Japanese home islands with a series of strikes that caused significant damage and instilled fear in the population. On March 1, Task Force 58 launched the first strike of the month against the Ryukyus, targeting Amami, Minami, Kume, Tokuno, and Okino, as well as Okinawa. This operation resulted in the destruction of 41 planes, the sinking of eleven vessels, damage to five others, and significant harm to island facilities. In between the main assaults on Japan, the superfortresses frequently targeted key sites in the Ryukyus, leading the beleaguered Japanese forces to refer to these missions as the "regular run." Throughout March, aircraft from the Southwest Pacific and the Marianas conducted nearly daily operations over the Ryukyus and surrounding waters, searching for Japanese shipping and contributing to the isolation of Okinawa by sinking cargo ships, luggers, and other vessels, while American submarines intensified the blockade around the Ryukyus. Meanwhile, after completing extensive training and rehearsals, Task Forces 51 and 55 gathered at Leyte, Task Force 53 assembled in the Guadalcanal-Russells area, and the rest of the 5th Fleet convened at Ulithi. On March 12, Reifsneider's convoy, carrying the 3rd Amphibious Corps, was the first to depart, successfully reaching Ulithi nine days later. On March 18, the tractor group transporting the 77th Division began its journey from Leyte to the Kerama Islands. On the same day, Mitscher's carriers targeted 45 airfields in Kyushu, claiming the destruction of 102 Japanese planes, damaging or destroying 275 on the ground, sinking six vessels, and damaging three more. In response, Admiral Ugaki's 5th Air Fleet launched a counterattack against the carriers Enterprise, Intrepid, and Yorktown, inflicting minor damage while losing 33 aircraft. The next morning, after locating the majority of the Combined Fleet at Kure, Mitscher dispatched 436 aircraft to target naval installations and shore facilities in the Inland Sea. At 06:50 three C6N Saiun “Myrt” recon planes discovered Task Force 58, and by 07:00 Captain Genda Minoru's elite, handpicked 343rd Kokutai had scrambled 63 advanced Kawasaki N1K2-J “George” Shiden-Kai fighters from Shikoku to intercept the Americans. Minutes later, Genda's powerful Shiden-Kais “waded into the Hellcats and Corsairs as if the clock had been turned back to 1942.” Soon the 343rd Kokutai was engaged in a wild maelstrom with 80 US fighters, including VF-17 and VBF-17 Hellcats from Hornet and VMF-112 Corsairs from Bennington. For once the Japanese broke about even, losing 24 fighters and one scout plane to the Americans' 14 fighters and 11 bombers. Nevertheless, Genda's expert but outnumbered 343rd Kokutai proved unable to blunt the American onslaught. Despite facing a formidable intercepting force, they managed to inflict damage on 18 Japanese warships, including the battleships Yamato, Ise, Hyuga, and Haruna, as well as six aircraft carriers. Additionally, one incomplete submarine was destroyed, 97 enemy planes were shot down, and 225 were either destroyed or damaged at Japanese airfields. In response, Ugaki launched a kamikaze counterattack that successfully struck the carriers Wasp and Franklin, causing significant damage and forcing Franklin to head to Pearl Harbor immediately. As Task Force 58 slowly withdrew the afternoon of March 20, a damaged Zero crashed destroyer Halsey Powell, killing 12 and wounding 29. Shortly afterwards friendly anti-aircraft fire started fires aboard Enterprise. At 23:00 eight Japanese torpedo planes unsuccessfully attacked the carriers, while three overnight snoopers were splashed by anti-aircraft fire. Between March 17 and March 20 Ugaki had committed 193 aircraft to battle and lost 161. On March 21 Ugaki dispatched a 48-plane strike, including 16 G4M “Betty” bombers, carrying the very first Ohka (“Cherry Blossom”) suicide missiles. However the combat air patrol (CAP) of 150 Hellcats and Corsairs repulsed them. Franklin, Wasp, and Enterprise, all damaged, steamed to Ulithi as a reorganized Task Group 58.2. Except for April 8–17, when Task Group-58.2 was briefly reestablished, Task Force 58 strength would remain at three Task Groups throughout Iceberg's duration. Ugaki's 5th Air Fleet was meanwhile effectively incapacitated for several weeks, but Ugaki nevertheless reported five carriers, two battleships, and three cruisers sunk, which IGHQ found scarcely credible. Meanwhile, the Mine Flotilla departed Ulithi on March 19, followed two days later by the rest of Task Force 52 and Task Force 54 to support the Kerama operation. On March 23, to prepare for the imminent minesweeping operations of Iceberg, Task Force 58 conducted extensive bombing raids on all known installations in Okinawa, resulting in significant damage and the sinking of 24 vessels and damage to three others over the following five days. Furthermore, Admiral Lee's battleships traversed the cleared area and opened fire on Okinawa, sinking an additional two vessels. With this naval and air support, Blandy's minesweepers and UDTs successfully cleared the route for Rear-Admiral Ingolf Kiland's Western Islands Attack Group by nightfall on March 25. Their primary opposition in the following two days consisted of a series of kamikaze attacks, which caused damage to the battleship Nevada, light cruiser Biloxi, four destroyers, two destroyer minelayers, one minesweeper, and two transports, while the destroyer Halligan was sunk by mines. The next morning, supported by naval gunfire and carrier aircraft, Bruce initiated his first landings. The 3rd Battalion, 305th Regiment landed on the southern beaches of Aka Island, facing sporadic resistance. Meanwhile, the 1st Battalion, 306th Regiment landed unopposed on Geruma Island, which was quickly secured. The 2nd Battalion, 306th Regiment achieved even faster success at Hokaji Island, while the 1st Battalion, 305th Regiment invaded Zamami Island with light resistance. The 2nd Battalion, 307th Regiment encountered minor opposition as it took Yakabi Island. The Fleet Marine Force Amphibious Reconnaissance Battalion scouted Keisejima and found no enemy presence. After encountering some resistance, the units on Aka and Zamami pushed back the enemy garrisons, securing two-thirds of Aka by nightfall and successfully repelling a strong counterattack on Zamami that night. Simultaneously, Deyo's warships and Blandy's carriers began bombarding the demonstration beaches, while minesweepers cleared progressively larger areas around Okinawa, although the minesweeper Skylark was sunk by mines. By March 27, the remaining enemy forces on Aka and Zamami were finally eliminated, and a company took Amuro Island without opposition. Additionally, a company from the 307th moved to Kuba Island, which was quickly secured. At the same time, Bruce continued his main landings, with the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 306th Regiment landing on the west coast of Tokashiki Island, facing minimal opposition. As the two battalions advanced north along narrow trails toward Tokashiki town, the 3rd Battalion landed to secure the southern part of the island. On March 28, they reached the town, clearing the entire island and concluding the Kerama operation.  In Kerama, "Island Chain between Happiness and Good," the Japanese tradition of self-destruction emerged horribly in the last acts of soldiers and civilians trapped in the hills. Camping for the night of March 28 a mile from the north tip of Tokashiki, troops of the 306th heard explosions and screams of pain in the distance. In the morning they found a small valley littered with more than 150 dead and dying Japanese, most of them civilians. Fathers had systematically throttled each member of their families and then disemboweled themselves with knives or hand grenades. Under one blanket lay a father, two small children, a grandfather, and a grandmother, all strangled by cloth ropes. Soldiers and medics did what they could. The natives, who had been told that the invading "barbarians" would kill and rape, watched with amazement as the Americans provided food and medical care; an old man who had killed his daughter wept in bitter remorse. Only a minority of the Japanese, however, were suicides. Most civilians straggled into American positions, worn and dirty. In all, the 77th took 1,195 civilian and 121 military prisoners. This operation resulted in the deaths of 530 Japanese soldiers, 121 captured, and the neutralization of over 350 suicide boats, with American losses totaling 31 killed and 81 wounded. While this initial operation was underway, the tractor groups of the Southern and Northern Attack Forces left their staging areas in Luzon and Ulithi on March 25, followed by the rest of Spruance's fleet two days later. On March 26 and 27, Rawlings' Task Force 57 conducted a series of strikes on the Sakishima Islands, primarily targeting Miyako. Meanwhile, after a 250-plane raid on the Mitsubishi plant in Nagoya on March 24, LeMay sent 165 B-29s from the 73rd and 314th Bombardment Wings to attack the Kyushu airfields on March 27, facing minimal resistance as they caused significant damage to the Tachiarai Army Airfield, the Oita Naval Airfield, and the Omura aircraft plant. Other bombers from the 313th Bombardment Wing laid aerial mines in the Shimonoseki Strait. The Japanese responded with a raid on Spruance's naval units using aircraft and suicide boats on the night of March 28, resulting in one LCM being destroyed and one cargo ship damaged. On March 29, Mitscher launched another strike against Kyushu, but poor weather conditions led to only minor damage, with 12 vessels sunk and one damaged. By this point, the “largest assault sweep operation ever executed” had cleared the Hagushi beach approaches in 75 sweeps, with minesweepers clearing 3,000 square miles of coastal waters. The following morning, as Task Force 58 once again targeted Okinawa, Deyo's ten battleships and eleven cruisers advanced to bombard Okinawa's defenses and demolish coastal seawalls with increased intensity. At the same time, the 314th sent 12 planes to attack the Mitsubishi engine works in Nagoya overnight. The next day, LeMay dispatched 152 B-29s for his second assault on Kyushu, completely destroying the Tachiarai machine works and heavily damaging the Omura airstrip. On March 31, back in Okinawa, the final underwater demolition operation off the Hagushi beaches was underway while the 420th Field Artillery Group was successfully positioned on Keisejima, prompting a strong reaction from Ushijima's artillery. That morning, a Ki-43 fighter crashed into Admiral Spruance's flagship, the Indianapolis, resulting in the deaths of nine crew members and severely damaging a shaft, which ultimately compelled Spruance to transfer his flag to the battleship New Mexico. Meanwhile, the frogmen completed their last demolition operations at Hagushi, and the final preliminary bombardment of Okinawa and the Sakishima Islands was executed successfully. By the end of the month, over 13,000 large-caliber shells had been fired in the shore bombardment, and approximately 3,095 sorties had been conducted against the Ryukyus. However, effective Japanese concealment prevented significant damage to Ushijima's defenses. As night fell, a vast fleet of transports, cargo ships, landing craft, and warships navigated the final miles of their long journey, successfully meeting off the Hagushi beaches in the East China Sea before dawn on April 1. While Turner's forces prepared for the landing, a fire support group consisting of 10 battleships, 9 cruisers, 23 destroyers, and 177 gunboats began the pre-landing bombardment of the beaches at 05:30, firing a total of 44,825 rounds of shells, 33,000 rockets, and 22,500 mortar shells. In response, the Japanese launched some scattered kamikaze attacks on the convoys, successfully hitting the transport Hinsdale and LST 884. At 07:45, carrier planes from Task Force 58 and Blandy's carriers targeted the beaches and nearby trenches with napalm. Fifteen minutes later, the first wave of amphibious tanks advanced toward the shore at four knots, followed closely by five to seven waves of assault troops in amphibious tractors. Alongside the primary landings, Major-General Thomas Watson's 2nd Marine Division staged a feigned landing on the southeast coast of Okinawa, near Minatoga, aiming to distract the enemy's reserves in that region. Meanwhile, on the main front, supported by rocket fire from LCI gunboats and artillery fire from Keisejima, a nearly continuous line of landing craft advanced toward the beaches at 08:20. Encountering no resistance, the first waves began to land on their designated beaches at 08:30, with additional troops following closely behind. Within an hour, Geiger's 3rd Amphibious Corps had successfully landed the assault elements of the 6th and 1st Marine Divisions north of the Bishi River, while Hodge's 24th Corps disembarked the 7th and 96th Divisions to the south of the river. The lack of significant opposition, coupled with the rapid disintegration of the untrained 5473 airfield service troops of the 1st Specially Established Regiment under heavy air and artillery bombardment, created a sense of foreboding among the men, prompting them to scout the area cautiously. As before, the enemy's primary response consisted of kamikaze attacks on naval units, resulting in damage to the battleships West Virginia and Tennessee, the British carrier Indefatigable, destroyers Prichett and Vammen, the British destroyer Ulster, the destroyer minelayer Adams, and four other vessels. Returning to Okinawa, after ensuring they were not walking into a trap, the troops began advancing inland while tanks and other support units were brought to the beaches. In the north, Major-General Lemuel Shepherd's 6th Marine Division deployed Colonel Merlin Schneider's 22nd Marines on the isolated Green Beaches and Colonel Alan Shapley's 4th Marines on the Red Beaches near Yontan Airfield. The 4th Marines advanced toward Yontan, encountering only scattered resistance, and quickly secured the objective east of the airfield by 13:00. Meanwhile, Schneider's 3rd Battalion moved through Hanza without opposition, but the 2nd Battalion's progress was hindered as it needed to protect its exposed flank, prompting the 22nd Marines to quickly commit its reserve battalion to maintain their momentum. To the south, Major-General Pedro Del Valle's 1st Marine Division landed Colonel Edward Snedeker's 7th Marines on the Blue Beaches and Colonel John Griebel's 5th Marines on the Yellow Beaches just north of the Bishi River. By 09:45, the 7th Marines on the left had advanced through the village of Sobe, their primary objective, while the 5th Marines were positioned 1,000 yards inland. At this point, it was decided to land the reserve battalions of both regiments, along with Colonel Kenneth Chappell's 1st Marines. With forces arranged in depth and reserves positioned to the right and left, Del Valle's units continued to advance steadily over the rolling terrain as the 11th and 15th Marines artillery units were also being landed. At 13:30, the 4th Marines resumed their advance, facing light resistance on the left but becoming overextended on the right while trying to maintain contact with the 7th Marines. As a result, Shapley landed his reserve battalion to fill this gap, while Shepherd also deployed his reserve 1st Battalion, 29th Marines, to secure the critical northern flank, allowing the 22nd Marines to keep advancing eastward. Meanwhile, further south, Major-General Archibald Arnold's 7th Division disembarked Colonel Frank Pachler's 17th Regiment on the Purple Beaches just south of the Bishi River and Colonel John Finn's 32nd Regiment on the Orange Beaches in front of Kadena Airfield. Both regiments quickly ascended the gentle hills at the landing sites and began advancing eastward. By 10:00, the 27th Regiment had patrols at Kadena Airfield, which was discovered to be empty; by 10:30, the front line was crossing the airstrip. Moments later, it advanced 200 yards beyond, heading towards Cholon. Simultaneously, the 32nd Regiment secured the southwestern edge of Kadena and continued along the road to Kozo. To the south, Major-General James Bradley's 96th Division landed Colonel Michael Halloran's 381st Regiment on the White Beaches in front of Sunabe and Colonel Edwin May's 383rd Regiment on the Brown Beaches at the extreme southern flank. Both regiments moved eastward with the same ease as the other units that day, making significant progress towards Momobaru in the north and successfully capturing Chatan in the south. Additionally, all divisional artillery of the 24th Corps landed early; Hodge's reserve regiments and battalions were successfully brought ashore, and by nightfall, direct-support battalions were in position. By the end of the day, over 60,000 men had landed, suffering only 28 dead, 27 missing, and 104 wounded, thereby establishing a beachhead 15,000 yards long and up to 5,000 yards deep in some areas. Shepherd's Marines paused for the night along a line stretching from Irammiya to the division boundary south of Makibaru, which the 1st Marine Division extended further south to Kadena. Meanwhile, the 7th Division advanced nearly three miles inland, destroying several pillboxes but losing three tanks to mines. The 96th Division secured positions along the river south of Chatan, on the elevated ground northwest of Futema, in the outskirts of Momobaru, and in the hills to the northwest and southwest of Shido. Although there were gaps in the lines in several areas, they were filled by reserve units or weaponry before nightfall. Thus, the Battle of Okinawa, seen by most as the final climactic battle of the Pacific War has only just begun. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. As Gandalf the White once said “The board is set, the pieces are moving. We come to it at last, the great battle of our time.” The battle of Okinawa will become the bloodiest campaign America has ever fought. The soul crushing journey has just begun as the Americans end the last stand of the Japanese in the Pacific War.

A Butterfly wants to kill the World?Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Although Love is both fire and shadow, we often forget to take comfort from the coolness of the memories when the burning flames are absentThere were precisely two things, okay, four things, keeping me alive. The fourth thing would come to her later when her 'furious was replaced by her 'curious' ~ as in how I knew her inhuman lingo ~ which would lead to my legacy with Grandpa.The top three reasons -She had poked my chest. It was a challenge, calling for one of my guardians to come out and play. The avatar knew I was the chosen heir of the Goddess Ishara and my goddess had devoted a good deal of time and effort to my survival and continued service in her cause. If Ishara made an 'appearance', it would be enough reason to not eviscerate me for my foul treatment of her august personage.Nope. It seemed Ishara was busy at the moment.Still, she most likely knew SzelAnya had shown a keen interest in me in Romania, though I'd never told Selena, or any other member of the 9 Clans, the Dragon's Daughter had killed Ajax for me. Figuring out SzelAnya, a storm deity, had helped me and Aya escape from our kidnapping in the midst of a cyclone in the Pacific Ocean wasn't much of a reach.But no bolt of lightning coalesced from my chest to singe her finger. No clap of thunder. Not even a cloud with a hint of disfavor appeared above us.Her obsidian fingernail began penetrating my shirt, touched my skin, then drew my blood, and something 'twitched'.That would be Contestant Goddess #3. She wasn't actually hanging around me. She didn't have to. She'd left me a memento of our last shindig before we parted ways. That was the nightmare-inducing episode where she, the chthonic goddess Sarrat Irkalli, had compressed one man's body into a dagger and then proceeded to suck another's soul into it to use as a power source for an Airbus 350 (a commercial airliner, if you didn't know).I still had that snaggletooth-looking thing at my back. Well who the Hell was I going to leave it with? Honestly, the only people I felt could keep it safe I loved too much to curse with it. Anyway, the second her divine claw touched my blood, the long dormant weapon whispered to me in a somewhat bored, lofty feminine voice from beyond the grave,Do you want me to discorporate this pathetic has-been for you?Quick check. Only the avatar and I, and her priestess-savant heard that. Of course, in downtown, New York City, noon Sunday, how weird would such a declaration be? The avatar's eyebrow arched. Her big bat-ears (still looking human to the normal viewing public) flicked this way and that, figuring out precisely where the threat originated from. Slowly, her once poking hand began to slide across my chest, along my ribs and around my back.She touched the dagger. Nothing.Gingerly, she drew it forth. I'd had a makeshift sheath made. As the blade made its journey around me, she took a half-step back to better observe it."Please don't kill him!" Theddy squealed. "We haven't had sex yet!"Being 'who' and 'what' she was, the avatar did what came natural. Fortunately for Theddy, I'd become accustomed to working with psychopaths.She stabbed the dagger at Theddy. I clamped my hand down on her wrist. The claws of her left hand came down on my constraining wrist. My free hand came down on that hand, trying to pry it free. It was a hopeless struggle, except.Yes, my old friend 'except'. Except the avatar was holding the dagger. As powerful as Ītzpāpālōtl was, she wasn't pushing against me. She was pushing against Sarrat Irkalli.Ītzpāpālōtl was a living, breathing terror machine who killed and received sacrifices on a regular basis.Sarrat Irkalli hadn't been actively worshipped in 3,000 years.Uneven contest? Oh yeah.See, Ītzpāpālōtl had spent the past 500 years continuously fighting against the Weave to keep her fingers on this side of reality.Meanwhile, for the most part, Sarrat Irkalli had sat upon her throne in the Sumerian Underworld with hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of souls toiling under her watchful gaze for eternity. Sure, her version of Hell wasn't getting any fresh deposits, but she knew how to milk the system well.Even the bad karma for the dagger's creation wasn't hers. She'd stolen it from the foolish Gong Tau sorcerers who had meant to enslave my soul, aka one-third of the Baraqu-Alal-Cáel deal she'd worked out millennia ago. It was the Weave giving her a 'freebie' for playing by the rules, if you considered the Weave sentient.And now Ītzpāpālōtl was touching it. Whoops. It wasn't as if Ītzpāpālōtl was stupid. It isn't like there are tons of magic weapons running around, much less soul-munchers like the one I had. Rationally, who would give a novice like me, a weapon like this? I say again, 'whoops'.Once I'd figured this out, I couldn't stop being me."Theddy, do you like girls?""What?" she squeaked. Here was this psycho trying to drive a Smilodon incisor into her bosom and I was giving her a sex quiz.Ītzpāpālōtl was really starting to struggle now."I, ah, are you okay?" she continued."Oh, I'm dandy. I'm serious. You think this chick is hot? I mean, would you do her in a three-way?" I proposed casually."Timothy?" Sovann."Bro?" Timothy to me."It's all good. Sovann, you want to know what my life is like? This lady who came to discuss business with me today is an immortal mass murderer. You give the word, I'll let go and this knife is going to cut her up like a Ginsu blade on market day because just cutting her heart out isn't going to be enough. Worse. Eventually she'll get back up.""Timothy?" Sovann repeated, this time with more concern. He thought I was nuts. I released my left hand. The blade flipped up, twisting in the avatar's grasp. That was the point her minions figured out something was wrong."El Amado?" the priestess-savant called out softly. The three goons began reaching for 'things'."Call them off, or I open my other hand," I cautioned the avatar. She spared me a swift, hostile look. My fingers tingled."Esten quietos!" she snapped. They stopped."Cáel, bad day, or not. This isn't you. Stop it. The girl's in danger," Timothy spoke up. He didn't mean Theddy. He meant the avatar."I'm being a real asshole, aren't I?" I sighed."Pretty much. You never let the bitches get to you before. Girl pops an attitude, you smile and move on. Life is too short," he reminded me. Too true."I'm going to put my hand over the blade," I told Ītzpāpālōtl. "When I do, you can let go."She didn't say anything for several seconds, even after my left hand covered the semi-serrated edge."Why should I trust you?" she sizzled."Because 'me' letting anything bad happen to you would make me a total, judgmental jerk. I don't know you. Whatever you did before you showed up today shouldn't matter to me. I acted stupidly. I should have stopped you. I didn't. I didn't even warn you and I could have. I was angry, and not even at you. Just angry and I apologize. Now, let go.""Why?""Hi. I'm Cáel Nyilas. Can I have my knife back? Please?"Blink. She released it. For a millisecond, it wanted to do something else because bitches are bitches. It didn't, so my palm wasn't sliced open. My right hand took the hilt. I carefully put the blade away."Yes," Theddy gulped."Huh?" Sovann shook his head at the sudden evaporation of the life and death tension. Welcome to my life. Theddy meant 'yes' to the 'girl-girl-guy' thing I had proposed earlier. It pays to keep things prioritized."What is this movie you were talking about?" Ītzpāpālōtl asked. Had she forgiven me for anything which had transpired? Bwahahaha, no way. She was taking the initiative and going with Option 1 from my earlier insane diatribe."Wait!" Sovann nearly shouted. "You nearly, I don't know, threatened Cáel's life and tried to stab Theddy and now you think you can go with us to a movie?""I told you," Timothy put an arm around his shoulder, "life with Cáel is rarely dull.""I thought you meant he was fun to party with, or something like that," Sovann looked up at his lover. "I thought his uncle showing up, and trying to kill him and then being blown the fuck away by those women and federal agents, and that other girl who pointed a gun at us, is this the new normal?""I love you, Sovann," Timothy grew compassionate. "Cáel is my best friend. He'd never deliberately hurt either of us and normal friends are something he has in short supply. Today being a great case in point."Ten seconds passed."The title is 'As Above, So Below'," Sovann addressed the avatar, "and what do we call you?"Since 'if you are not a worshiper and addressing me, I normally am about to kill you' would sound really cool in Olmec-ic, but I might be asked to translate,"How about we go with 'Obsidian', please?" I pleaded with her.She knew I was currying favor now ~ and behaving like a weather vane caught in the wall of a tornado ~ she gave a gracious bow of her head."Obsidian will do for now. Is the Legend of the dagger 'business'?" Translation: it had better not be."No," I smiled. "It's pillow talk." Rancor, 'how presumptuous', followed by 'but that dagger ups the count to three Goddess interested in him', and next to recalling all the trivial babble about me being a sexual dynamo (I prayed my PR was that good) having some relevance. Her chimera emotions allowed me to get a few more crucial words out, because even women who aren't sleeping with me are jealous."Esta mujer fue la primera en ofrecer bienes funerarios tras la muerte dee mi padre," I reinserted Theddy back into my close company. For some reason, Obsidian considered me unreliable thus had to verify what I'd just said."Did you make funerary offering upon his father's passing?" she asked Theddy. Let's think about this. The wacko chick questioning Theddy had tried to stab a huge freaking blade into her not a minute ago. Fleeing in terror while screaming for the cops? Nope."Yes. I baked him some walnut and caramel chip cookies," she nodded. "It is a family recipe." Sovann looked over the three of us, then back to Timothy."I told you 'that's impressive cocking like I've never seen before'," he explained."She may remain," Obsidian 'permitted'. Theddy wrapped up my right arm with her left and gave it a squeeze. She wanted attention/explanation."Obsidian is a Master Vampire, Theddy," I leaned in and whispered. "Before she was turned, she was captured in a raid by the fey, mentally, spiritually and physically raped and made into their sex-slave. Part of her spirit never healed properly. While this imperfection allows her to walk around in daylight, her heart can never hold on to any emotion for long, so she is forced to forever seek passion, no matter how dangerous, from the world around her."Revealing secrets? Ha. I had noticed Theddy had every work done by Laurel K. Hamilton in her place, including the comic book series."You are not supposed to know, so act like I didn't tell you anything, okay?"'Okay,' she mouthed back at me. I could see it in her eyes. My chaotic life suddenly 'made sense' to her because a best-selling fiction author said so.Obsidian thought the movie was; hilarious. She couldn't stop snickering, giggling and poking at me as horrible shit happened to the various actors. She thought the plot was 'insightful' and wouldn't stop whispering to me throughout the entire thing. During the closing credits, I told her I'd get her the DVD for Christmas ~ she knew the concept behind digital technology, but didn't own any ~ she kissed me.The first kiss was fierce and joyous with the added benefit of her tongue doing things no normal tongue could do, it stretched. Not sure how I felt about that. The second kiss was more sultry, longer and came with some accompanying body action which, I'm no virgin. Not even close. She was on my left side, so when she twisted in her seat, her left leg insinuated itself between mine. Her left hand cupped my jaw and held my head in place as her lips played along mine.A dance of the scorpion perhaps? Tender at first, then suddenly stabbing, dominant and brutal. My lips and tongue battled back, using my superior Kiss-fu to nullify her natural strength and agility. She liked it. By her moaning, she liked it a lot. As the kiss progressed, more and more of her flowed from her seat into my seat, body facing me. Her body rose over mine, forcing my neck back to maintain contact."So, Dot Ishara is hovering around somewhere close, isn't she?" I murmured as our lips separated barely a centimeter apart. One chick kissing you to make another one jealous. It's happened to me plenty of times. Obsidian didn't give a damn about Theddy, or any other mortal woman in close proximity so,"Yes," she purred. "Do you mate with her?""A man does not brag of such things, but no, unless heavy petting counts?""What will she do to you when I steal your seed?"'When'? Why was I not surprised? Why was I not surprised another concussion was in my immediate future either? Was it possible I was, learning?"Chastise me for not fighting harder," I breathed across her lips, "and, in case you forgot, I'm on a date with the girl beside me.""Who I care nothing for," she sent a cruelly playful look Theddy's way. Wisely, the girl shivered."Who I am indebted to and how I honor my debts might matter to you," I hazarded. My words hurt Theddy's feelings. That was on purpose. Obsidian took pleasure in me hurting Theddy because she was basically a vicious monster."Yes?" I pressed her gently."Yes," Obsidian allowed, easing up slightly both romantically and physically."And Theddy, if you believe I'm with you solely because of some sense of obligation, you clearly haven't been listening to your recordings," I shot the human girl a wink."Oh.""Am I, or am I not, a sex-obsessed little monkey?" I teased her. Theddy giggled. I paid for my diversion with four obsidian claws to my ribs outside of Theddy's view. After all, it wasn't like Theddy could possibly compete with her for my attention. Considering Obsidian's legendary ability to rip open her opponent's ribcages and feast upon their hearts, I slipped my left hand, the one next to her between her legs and stroked her cotton-slacks covered cunt.Theddy hugged my right arm and put her head against my shoulder. Not to be outdone," Qu  un centenar dee hombres se quemaron vivos como el sonido?" Obsidian inquired with sexually sadistic hunger. Ah, memories of burning 7P Commandos.Whoops. Theddy knew Spanish."No lo s . Ten an respiradores en," I replied casually. "Si lo desea, puedo describir lo que se siente al tirar de una flecha de guerra lanzar mi propio muslo.""Eep," slipped out of Theddy's lips."Why did you do that?" Obsidian looked over us both."Well, I was showing a little girl I believed in her,""And she shot you?" Theddy gulped."No. She hit the target I was standing next to. A co-worker mistook me for a cardboard cutout of a Jehovah's Witness and let fly. Seems she had issues with organized religion as well as a reaction to the oscillation effect of florescent lighting and ceiling fans.""But why did you pull the arrow out?" Theddy asked. "Couldn't you wait until you got to the hospital?""Mosquito," Obsidian menaced, insinuating Theddy was a pest."I wasn't thinking rationally at the moment, I work in an asylum, I had a hot date in a few hours, any of those three will do," I smiled at Theddy."Copil such as Cáel don't bother with petty human conventions," Obsidian turned my gaze back her way with her hand on my jaw. 'Copil's were 'god-touched' in her lingo."More than one girl?" Theddy mused."Four.""Okay," she sighed happily."Theddy, three under-age girls and the police office he was dating acting as their chaperone," Timothy intervened. "He hurried home so he could keep a promise to the children, not for sex." Bastard. He really was my best friend. He didn't mention my post-injury, pre-festivity sex with Odette giving me a few extra, urgently needed Brownie Points to suggest I might be a decent human being."You are a wonderful guy," Theddy ran a fingernail over my free hand. Clearly I was 'wonderful' enough to risk Obsidian's anger over. The screen went blank as the last credits scrolled away and the room was plunged into darkness. Five seconds later, the lights snapped on.Pain!"Fuck," I hissed. It wasn't any extra physical trauma causing me discomfort. No, a metaphysical dam had burst within and my stream of conscious thought had been turned into a white-water rapids. The competing cyclones of thoughts in my mind had stopped cooperating and my hypothalamus was letting me know I was in danger."Cáel", "Cáel", "Bro", and "Ishara" all came in rapid succession. I needed some space both tangible and social."I need to step outside," I eased Obsidian off me and stood up. My sense of my personal danger was ratcheting up. While I had been studying Obsidian, so I could screw her, I had discovered more and more Alal-badness.The light display had ignited a series of pressing implanted memories which had been clamoring for my attention. Things like not all 'divinities' were stewards of the Weave. Some even wanted its destruction, preferring risking all on a chaotic restructuring of reality over what existed now ~ things like Obsidian. They weren't attempting to do so because they thought they had no chance.But there was. A real serious chance to unravel reality existed; and it was staring her in the face. It wasn't 'me' as in 'I was the Anti-Christ'. But with the torrent of memories pouring forth, I knew where the peril lay and I was completely responsible for it. Hell, I was a prime ally of Armageddon and hadn't even known it.'Holy Shit!'I blinked. Timothy was shaking me. We were out in the lobby."Oh my God, Timothy," I nearly wept. "What am I going to do?""I have no idea what you are talking about. Is there someone you can talk to about this?" he suggested. Normal folks were around us. Obsidian was at my side. Sovann was behind Timothy with an arm around Theddy's shoulder."Theddy," I looked at her. "Can I catch up with you later? I just realized I've screwed up something fierce." I put my best 'really don't want to go but I gotta' face on. Her worried look brightened, she slipped around Timothy and gave me a tingling French kiss."I'll hold you to that, Cáel," she murmured when we parted."Timothy, go home, I got shit to deal with," I hoped my grin didn't become as feeble as I felt it to be."I," he started to say something. "Time not to ask questions?""Yeah.""Okay.""Wait." I pulled us to the side and went on to my toes, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Tell Pamela 'he' sent Ajax to kill the Professor, his family and the sisters. They were the targets all along. It wasn't me, or the other women. Just in case,""Okay," Timothy patted my arm. It was cryptic. It was the best I could do. See, I wanted to cry so badly.{2:09 pm Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}Where to begin:Every mythology across the globe has some creature, or creatures, which threatens Existence. Usually a God, or a Hero-God, slays the creature and everything is right with the world, except such a being, being older than Existence itself, can't really die, so they are carved up, buried ~ what have you.Illuyankamunus was one such manifestation of this underlying cancerous desire to destroy reality. He'd had a far more real child, SzelAnya, and she's never quite given up on her dad. Of far greater critical importance, she was 'part' of Illuyankamunus, somewhat in the way I was part of Alal and Baraqu. And yes, that meant all the offspring of Bolu, the guy I'd praised a few hours earlier, held the seeds of that malignant deity as well.And Alal knew it. He hadn't been killing off the descendants. He'd left that task up to a group far more capable of the task, the Egyptian Rite, who knew a fucking threat to existence when they saw it. Lest I forget, No secret society are the 'good guys'. Also lest I forget, I alone decided to go after the Arinniti sons to fulfill Vranus' quest. I had no divine mandate I was aware of nor any real world orders.Inadvertently, I had rounded up the last five mortal remains of Illuyankamunus in one place for convenient disposal in a remote Transylvanian town. The only problem was: if someone didn't get to them quickly, I was also about to whisk them into the loving (and heavy-armed) protective embrace of the Amazon Host, where the completion of centuries of culling would have suddenly become a cast-iron bitch instead of a simple disposal.Enter Ajax. Yeah, I bet the Egyptians were trying to figure out how I stopped him as well as Alal. I thought I was being clever by not telling most of the world. In fact, they most likely suspected; and the reality of SzelAnya watching over me was much more terrifying. Ishara had put a serious curse on the Amazons, yet her curse only affected her followers, the Amazons, who were fair game.SzelAnya had killed someone for me, and I hadn't been one of her followers. Thus I had committed a blasphemous act only a magician of some significant ability could have managed. I wasn't a sorcerer, but I had a cornucopia of mystic knowledge rolling around in my noggin. Trying to figure all this out was one of my major headaches.The others?I even suspected I knew who betrayed me ~ kinda. They didn't do it on purpose. At least I hope they didn't, because my odds-on favorite was my Mother by way of Captain Delilah Faircloth. Realistically, there was only one secret society who might help her against Grandpa and that was the Egyptian Rite, and they did send three people to Dad's funeral including two 'somebodies'. I'm an idiot.I'd chatted away in fluent New Kingdom Egyptian and it never occurred to me how odd it was for two of them to also be so fluent in it. Know it, sure, but as fluent as Kimberly had taught me to be? That should have been a Red Flag.The Earth & Sky had sent Iskender, who should have been the benchmark I judged the other delegations by, damn it.Three Condos? They'd killed my Dad and their guys had been flunkies.The 7 Pillars had been nobodies, which they'd proven by their inaction.Now I had to question why I had 3 actual  9-Clans  assassins at my dad's funeral too. Holy Ishara, I wasn't nearly paranoid enough.Anyway, why would the Amazons be aiding and abetting the End of All Life on Earth? Normally, they wouldn't be, but 3000 years ago, the majority of Human life did a colossal dump on the Amazons. And when they needed help, they got it in the form of SzelAnya and her dual-sex followers. I seriously doubt they told the Amazons their purpose was to resurrect SzelAnya's daddy. I imagine the Amazons didn't pry too much either.It turned out almost to be okay. During the 2nd Betrayal, the Amazons betrayed SzelAnya and almost short-circuited her plans by exterminating her lineage.Except for the Arinniti elders and Bolu. Good old 'except'.I can imagine when the Egyptians heard about the 2nd Betrayal, they figured they were 'okay'. Those wacky Amazons had inadvertently done the world a favor. Except an act of maternal love kept a slender hope of Illuyankamunus' return alive. By the time the Egyptians realized they'd been prematurely hopeful, Bolu's descendants were all over the Balkans and hunting them down had proven difficult.But, it gets worse. Much worse.When those Gods shattered Illuyankamunus, they scattered him in the relative certainty no one would ever gather the parts back together.His flesh was scattered across the land, modern day Turkey, but encompassing everything from Pakistan to Italy and Egypt to Poland. The flesh became soil, then plants, the things that eat plants, then food for humans. Get the picture.Whoops. SzelAnya had been doing just that for centuries upon centuries every time she mated with a mortal of Illuyankamunus' line and had offspring, they accumulated his energy, which made hunting down the few remaining ones easier to find, since they were 'beacons of badness', except...There were two key pieces missing which SzelAnya could never get. After all, you would think burying them on the far side of the world would matter, right?The 'breath of Illuyankamunus' ~ his cosmic fire ~ they buried in a volcano in a distant land far across the Great Sea. His spirit 'body' they imprisoned in a great river, again, across the Great Sea.But wait, it gets worse.The being standing next to me knew precisely where the 'breath of Illuyankamunus' was. Seems Mesoamerica is laced with volcanos. They'd discovered 'the breath' long ago and used it as a weapon called Xiuhcoatl. Better yet, Alal suspected she and her buddies were more than happy to reunite it with the rest if they thought the Weave itself wouldn't annihilate them for daring to do so.In their current, weakened state they were vulnerable to such a karmic backlash. In theory, a reborn Illuyankamunus would have access to power beyond the bounds of the Weave, older and more terrifying. Still, without the mortal remains to anchor the energy, giving it to the spirit would be pointless.Alal knew where the spirit body was (in general), but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was where it was,Of all the places the Arinniti sons could have fled to, they had to choose Brazil, the burial place of the restive spirit body of Illuyankamunus. Mother-fucker.And Ildiko 'Alkonyka' aka Dusk Lovasz had sworn she'd travel to Brazil to fulfill Bolu's side of the quest in the same way I was holding up Vranus' end. If I tried to stop her, SzelAnya would know something was up. Fuck.I was processing all of this when Obsidian violently yanked me out of the way. A cabby had swerved to avoid a flurry of trash and nearly run over us. It was the third near-concussive experience in the past five minutes she'd help me avoid while she had walked by my side. I'd been mumbling like a madman."That would be my Goddess wanting to talk with me," I looked her way."I know," she gave me a clever smile."She's really not going to like that," I shook my head."I know that too," she kept smiling. "Where is your mind?""Five lives away from making the world a safer place," I sighed."Safer for who?" she purred. Where were all the bimbos? Not only was it an insightful question, it cut straight to the heart of my dilemma.What decision could I make? If I elected to help my fellow Amazons, I risked screwing with the world. In truth, I was risking everything even if I did nothing. Well Dad was always clear that things didn't change by themselves. You needed to do something that would have an effect. So, 'What are you going to do?'More to the point, I wasn't Grandad. Killing the last five of the line of Illuyankamunus wasn't 'me', so it wasn't going to be something I'd worry about.SzelAnya wanted to bring back her Dad, I could understand that. I'd have to figure out a way for her to believe this world sticking around was more important. How? Well, I had a goddess-like creature right in front of me to probe for ideas."You are an immortal," Obsidian commented. She'd been weighing her opinion for some time. I could tell by the wonderment with which she gifted each word."What? No. I can die.""No. I don't think so. Your wounds. Normally the wounds I inflict flow freely for some time. Yours have already scabbed over," her eyes flickered to the various minor scars she'd imparted to me in the few hours we'd been together.Of course, her idea was insane, Oh God No! I was in Grandad's body. Well Duh! His body was supposed to be immortal."Are you sure?" I looked deep into her eyes."You are a young immortal, the youngest I've ever met, but you are an immortal," she seemed to be convincing herself as much as me.Stupid Assumption (on my part)! I wasn't in Alal's body. I was in Cáel's. Because the Cáel soul shard was young, Alal hadn't been able to find it because it had moved through Time, to me, sonofabitch! 'I' hadn't been around for him to find. No! I was making yet another damn assumption.What did I know? When Pamela found Baraqu, it had been in an object, not a person, though she had been short on details. When the Alal-shard went to the Land of the Endless Black Sands to bring Saku back, the Cáel-shard had been in reality, so it had been allowed to create a body, 'me'. Still, the curse Sarrat Irkalli placed on Baraqu was on Alal and myself as well, which meant I might just be immortal.My Alal-mind agreed with Obsidian's assessment. In his first years, his healing had been slow, still taking days for what took mortal people weeks. I'd stupidly attributed my swift recovery to Amazon medicines, ugh. Because I got wounded more than most Security Detail trainees while concurrently entertaining two and three sex partners."Can you talk with Dot Ishara?" I asked her."Yes, but why would I?""Sex?""We are going to have sex anyway," she smiled. I'd tricked her. Set her up with the right so I could now drop her with the left."I can bring the mbo  tat  back to life," I pledged. That was not what she was expecting at all. "If you bring the Xiuhcoatl, I can bring the flesh and we can unite the three." Mbo  tat  was the Tupi name for the legendary 'fiery serpent' of the Amazon Basin. In Portuguese, it had become Boi-tat , a will-o-wisp with a confused, Christianized mythology ~ a serpent dwelling in darkness, devouring the eyes of corpses, glowing in the forests at night."Where is the flesh?" she whispered."In his mortal children," I replied."Who?""You are a monster, Ītzpāpālōtl. I'm not going to tell you and you don't have the time to drag the information out of my mind before my allies drop on you like a nuclear detonation," I drew my body tightly to her."Why would the Amazons do this?""They are not. This is a deal between you and me," I kissed her lips. I pulled back. A few seconds later she kissed me back."Why?""My grandfather had my father murdered and I would avenge him. In the end, despite my father's Amazon heritage, my 'Sisters' will let his death go unavenged for the greater good of the Host. He was a man and they will never look beyond that ~ they will never value his life as they would that of a woman.""Your mother's father?""Yes. Cáel O'Shea of the Illuminati.""We are not at war with the Illuminati," she murmured. It was a casual observation, not a protest."You are at war with Cáel O'Shea.""He was slain.""He didn't stay dead.""You know much more than you are saying," she was finally catching on."Absolutely.""I need much more than a few names to convince my kin to help," she purred, a cocktail of sexual immersion and flesh-flaying pain."I don't work for you. You are agreeing to work for me," I was hard as iron in more than one way. Why? Boundaries. She lived in a world where only the fundamentals of reality constrained her. Having a human, no matter how polished my pedigree, or how much I might appear to be 'special', tell her 'you are not the boss' in a reasonable fashion was new and very unwelcome."What would make you think that?""My mentor taught me knowledge is a curse. It is our inability to forget, and I can see into your soul, Ītzpāpālōtl. You care not one wit for the life of an assassin. But the thought of the other 'Factors' of the 9 Clans treating you as an equal galls you almost as much as the crushing reality that you need them."You have lived 500 years in chains and I'm offering you a desperate grab at freedom," I added."Your brief glimpse of immortality gives you no insight into my existence," she bristled."Oh, how many have given up? How many have decided the fight was no longer worth it and faded from the Sunlight to make their final trip into the Underworld, never to return? Do you even visit them?" I spoke with a voice tinged with compassion and loss. I pulled upon the pitiless, blank memories of a childless Alal all those centuries and imprinted on them my own fears of fatherhood and failure."How do you know so much?" she let her fa ade crack, then blow away, in the hollowness of her own sorrow. How could I pity such a monster? I could because I was me and I wouldn't surrender that to the barbaric past and most likely horrific future. I pulled her close, resting my chin on the top of her head."You are not the first, wonderful, very bright woman who has stepped into my life, Obsidian," I whispered. "You are not even the first divinity. For all the millions of differences enforced by power and time, I think love, hate and the conflict between the two wear upon us all. If anything, you face an endless parade of hope and misery. Even if you chose to ignore it, you have seen it and perhaps it leaves its marks ~ water scarring the rocks of a riverbed."We paused. I was able to peripherally scan about and realize we'd made it to Central Park ~ the Ramble and off the beaten path."Your Goddess is a fool for not keeping you closer," she murmured."She does keep me close. You have been actively keeping me from her," I reminded my guest. "She also plays by the rules, so is of limited help in my plans for vengeance."Translation: I could enlist Ītzpāpālōtl's aid while still remaining loyal to my matron Goddess. Ishara could not provide what I needed and my Amazons wouldn't agree with my scheme, so I needed her. Three hours ago, she wouldn't have considered me a worthy supplicant, much less an allied equal, yet here she was conspiring with me to shake the foundations of Creation.Personally, I was thanking Mamitu, Destiny. Had I not been having my worst Sunday ever when we first crossed paths and then acted like a total cockhead, pissed her off and led her to holding Sarrat Irkalli's dagger, thus putting her life in my hands, and not had Timothy as a best friend, I wouldn't have taken her to the movie, and my mind wouldn't have wandered down those dark corridors of Alal's memories to piece things together.Whatever itinerary Obsidian had approached me with, my abrasive behavior had forced her to it cast aside. Dagger, movie, revelations, I was now so much more in her eyes than she had envisioned."Share my need and share with me an ounce of your sorrow," I murmured to her as I gently curled my fingers in her hair and directed her head up until she faced me."The dagger," she rumbled. While she was stroking my hard-on, I knew she was using it as a double meaning."I was pinned to an onyx sacrificial table," I began my tale. We worked off pants to mid-thigh then 'got busy'. Penetration was only going to be possible by turning her around. Ground-breaking was her ready acceptance of my instruction. I leaned against a tree, then pulled her onto my lap. She guided my phallus home.One locomotion and I sunk in deep. It was warm molasses until I hit and pressed against her cervix. For a second Obsidian trembled, then her muscles clamped down tightly, gripping my manhood firmly in a vise, keeping me still."Ah," I groaned. Obsidian had her neck twisted, so we were kissing with eye contact as I described my adventures with the Gong tau sorcerers. She shot me a quick twinkle of delight, a connection. She'd relayed physical pleasure in the way I was giving her cerebral gratification, aka hope.I rolled up her shirt, and gave both nipples a brutal tweak in response. She gasped. I was applying a little 'rough' with my tender intercourse. She rolled her tush against my groin, an invitation to double-down on my nipple-play. I kept my left hand working over each tit while working my fingernails down her abdomen. As I described the terror in old Tsu's face as he shouted out 'M iyǒu! (Mandarin for 'No!') as he recognized too late the curse he was invoking. She relished the visual of the Han necromancer's terror.'Me' smacking two fingers down on her clit earned me a squeal and a small gush of fluids on my nut-sack. Her look of astonishment was something I'd always cherish. Before me, sex was something she demanded from her followers/victims and definitely orchestrated. Her partners being fearful/worshipful must have limited their initiative."A-a-a-ah, we are being observed," she groaned, her lips less than an inch from mine. It took me a second."Which direction?" I kept pumping her, strumming her clit and treating her tit like taffy on a hot Coney Island summer afternoon. Her hooded eyes flickered to our right. I gave it ten seconds. I had to get Obsidian refocused on what I was going to do to her next, in case this was innocent voyeurism. Nope. It was Chaz.Why Chaz? See, I'm an idiot. My cryptic warning to Timothy for Pamela had been good for all of one minute. He'd called her and she'd gathered what she could and come looking for me.Why was she concerned? I was babbling to Timothy then wandering off with a 'beyond-freaky' chick I had just met named 'Obsidian' who came my way courtesy of another chick with the name of Estere.Let me see, Estere was Hashashin and for Timothy to describe someone in my life as 'beyond freaky' was bad news. Timothy was seriously worried about me and Timothy was an emotional rock ~ he didn't panic. Lest we forget, I was in a federal taskforce. A quick peek into New York traffic cameras revealed me and Obsidian wandering into Central Park from the south, so in the rescue party went, splitting up and Chaz 'lucked-out'.I still had two, no, three problems. I was really enjoying my sexual excursion with Obsidian and she was seeming to truly enjoy her experience with me. Oh, and Central Park is big, Pamela had been pressed for people, so she had pressed some unlikely participants into my rescue party."He's," smooch, "my brother, by adoption," I headed off the whole idea she'd been briefed on me already."Visual, Peacekeeper Six, OS2, L-11," Chaz muttered into his headset before taking up a casual stance on the path overlooking our trysting spot. Sex with an audience didn't bother her, so, we worked out as much action from twist, turns and two inches of in-and-out motions (she liked to keep our bodies tight) as we could. Obsidian was humming along in no time. Her vaginal walls were undulating, wearing away at my self-control.Panting, not from us,"Is he o, are they, who is she?" huffed and puffed a trio of voices from Chaz's locale. Oh. Pamela had recruited my 'Hounds'.I accidently (from a timing perspective) took that moment to grind my nails into her left nipple, pinched her clit and hammered her as hard as I could. Obsidian howled. Her vocalization exited the human realm in a cataclysmic manner.The noise scared avians a mile away into terrorized flight. Cats hissed, then raced for cover. Dogs tucked tail and ran. Streetlights a hundred yards away shattered in sprays of glass. Better yet, for the entertainment of my viewing public, she lashed out with her right hand at the closest Black Cherry sapling, exploding it into a mist of sap and pulverizing the bark and wood fiber into pulp.On the downside, her cervix gave my balls an ultimatum ~ release my seed at once, or she was going to twist off my head. My cock and balls have a long history of making decisions without me. I began lavishing her. Before I finally got the feeling I was out of the danger zone. She was back to rubbing against me and purring in blissful satisfaction."Onun g zleri," whispered Belgin, one of the Turks. 'Her eyes'?"Cáel, are you aware of the alternative nature of your liaison?" Chaz coolly cautioned me. Translation: 'mate, do you know you have your cock in a demon?'"Yeah," I coughed. I had a face full of her hair. I was working on some post-coital nuzzling along with slowly helping her get her pants back up."Ininzqueoccehpa," she hummed to me, ignoring our gathering. That was 'let's do this again'."Tehuatlcochitlehua," I replied with some fondness. She studied me for a second before deciding my term was one of endearment, thus 'you are what dreams are made of', not 'nightmares'.Obsidian had another issue to deal with. Timothy would call it a righteous cocking. Whatever it was, her hold on her human mein had slipped and her inhumanity was slipping through, mainly in her glass-like, black, multi-facetted eyes and her fingers which now ended in molten obsidian talons. On the subconscious level, her predatory nature was setting everyone close-by on edge. I could also make out the high pitched, ultrasonic pipping of her chiropteran cries ~ purpose unknown.Obsidian made her way off farther into the underbrush leaving me a few precious seconds to appreciate her retreating posterior while holstering my equipment. More people were arriving. I had one more thing to take care of before, oh look, Nikita had brought her Mom along, the NYPD Sergeant."Chaz, I need to have a quick chat with Dot before I can explain things. She's been waiting and that's unwise," I looked to the Brit. He nodded."Cáel? Mr. Nyilas? Prince?" all came my way. I relaxed as best I could. Chaz went to a body blow to stagger me, then an epic upper cut to send me to Lullaby Land.Dot & the DragonessDot and SzelAnya, in dragon form, were waiting as I tumbled forward. By the state of my haziness, I knew my unconsciousness wouldn't last long."You gave her your seed," came the accusation."Yes," I staggered, "and now you should be able to track her," I pointed out the bonus part of the arrangement. No comment."I've got to make this quick, SzelAnya, I've found your father, geographically speaking," I dropped the bomb."Don't," Dot Ishara commanded. After all, she and her divine cohorts had done the killing and corpse-dividing eons ago. Undoubtedly, they'd executed their own oaths to one another to 'never reveal what they had done' as well."Too late," I shook my head. SzelAnya's attention was magnetized. "I owe you and I'm paying my debts. I'm not blind to the dangers, believe me.""You have no idea what power you are invoking," Dot's undercurrent of displeasure was the worst I'd experienced."Wrong. I've got thousands of years of Alal boiling around in my head, Plus the rest of you betrayed her 2600 years ago. It doesn't mean I have to. And now, given the chance, I'm not. Even if you kill me, she's got enough toBack in the Ramble"Really expect me to believe," Nikita's mom was growling."Man down," I waved a weak arm skyward."Mr. Nyilas, what is going on here?" the Sergeant addressed me. I was reclining in a circle of my 'Hounds'; most were kneeling. Chaz was in a tiny bit of trouble for having clocked me."Umm, thanks for coming out and looking for me. I assure you, Mr. Tomorrow did what he did as a matter of his professional duties ~ intelligence gathering." As I struggled to stand, my ladies helped me. I saw Pamela with three Hounds coming up fast from one direction and Virginia with three more coming from the other. The gang was all here.The mutterings in non-English tongues suggested a bit of explaining was already going on."You've been bleeding," Nikita pointed out with an unspoken 'again'."This?" I pulled my shirt out and looked at the first bloodstain of my encounter. "This is the just the start of the bad news." I shed my windbreaker and then t-shirt.The professionals shouldered aside the others to take a closer look."All of these are from noon and less than an hour ago," I identified the damage. Sarge was skeptical. Chaz, Nikita and Virginia less so."They look older," the senior lawman noted."I've been curious about that," Chaz frowned."I've inherited my Grandfather's curse. My soul fragment was in the 'Here and Now' twenty-three years ago while his was, 'over there', so I was allowed to come into creation. According to my recently departed guest,""You are immortal," Virginia mumbled to finish the thought. Had the speaker not been a member of the FBI, who knows how the thought would have been received."From the memories I've been gifted with," I tapped the tiny divot on my forehead, "his healing abilities started out rather slowly too. I certainly don't want to test this theory, so no worries there," I scanned the group."How do you explain seeing your Grandfather in Hungary and again in Rome?" Virginia wondered."Again, that woman who just left," I got out."Was no woman," Nuray, another one of my Turkish Hounds interrupted. "Her eyes..." she tried to explain, "and look what she did to that tree," she pointed to the greatest piece of evidence of supernatural wrongdoing. The other two witnesses nodded."We all saw the same thing. Her eyes were, bottomless, definitely not human," Belgin affirmed. The veteran players looked to Chaz."She had a collapsed nose-bridge, lacked a blink response, her dental work was carnivorous and her tongue was extremely clipped and showed prehensile qualities," he reported calmly. Pause. Chaz was a freaking intelligence operative, after all."If her hands were a type of glove weaponry, I've never seen it s like before. While I know it is possible for a human to exert the force-pounds necessary to snap a two inch diameter tree trunk in one blow, it is a rare skill and requires intense discipline. This appeared to be done spontaneously, without preparation of any kind and as a reaction to other stimuli," he added."It was also your assessment he needed to be knocked unconscious?" Nikita's mom countered."Mr. Nyilas' psychological constructs are something the whole team has to work around. At times, he seeks 'insight' from his mind in a deliberately unconscious/non-sleep state," he replied."He claims to be talking with spirit powers. I know when he returns to consciousness, he delivers useful intelligence. I'm not a psychologist, psychiatrist, or psychic. I don't know why his mind functions that way. I do know results. And I know I work with people who would achieve those results by other means if it were at all possible. Since we haven't found another method, we accept that from tim

Guardian Goddess in Manhattan.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels."Our Princess grew up around a woman whose keen intellect we rely on to protect us from unseen enemies," Saint Marie's voice became deeper and more threatening. "At the age of ten, she," Saint Marie looked my way as my hand shot up mimicking Aya's identical plea for attention."Yes Ishara?" Saint Marie chose to acknowledge me."She's nine.""Fine. At the age of nine, she earned an honorific, Mamētu me eda, which I didn't accomplish until my 19th year." 'Yes Ladies, I'm an epic bad-ass and I've been out-performed by a child'."She was kidnapped along with the Head of House Ishara. They tortured her by clipping off two of her digits, one at a time, then seared the damage with a blowtorch. She gave them nothing. At the end of the encounter, the two of them managed to defeat thirty Seven Pillar's commandos, over fifteen she disabled personally.""After killing nearly half as many enemies as the 35 I have personally dispatched in my entire career, she crossed a mile and a half of barren rock in the midst of a Category 4 Typhoon. Cáel Ishara only helped her half of the way because he was engaged with the last two members of the Seven Pillar's team.""I have utter confidence the madness here today, while assisted by House Epona and Ishara, was the brainchild of Krasimira. I say 'assisted' because Cáel Ishara spared Kwenhamai's life on the battlefield. Katrina Epona removed Kwenhamai from Romanian custody to keep her out of the hands of those who wished us harm. I was aware Kwenhamai was in New York, but not her precise location.""My read on the situation is this:"Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopt her into the bloodline of the first Amazon.""She was not aware of Kwenhamai's plan to exit the Host in the manner she chose. I read the shock and pain in, Aya's face.""Our Princess has not given me a single order and I am the only voice here today that matters, I am the Golden Mare and the Council has consistently failed to agree on a Regency.""Krasimira, why have you done this?" Saint Marie abruptly asked for either a denial, or acquiescence of her perception of events."As directed by the Ancestors, the statute of a goddess of a First House was recast then returned to her perpetual spot. It brought new light to a dark, sacred and painful place. In that moment I realized that for the first time in nearly 3,200 years, the descendants of every Amazon gathered before the walls of Wilusa (Troy) had been reunited.""I was troubled. Was this a portent the augurs couldn't divine? In their council (the augurs) then came up with the words 'speak to our eldest'."Oh shit, the rest of the Council was racking their minds trying to figure who was the oldest surviving Amazon. I knew for a fact they were overlooking the two top candidates."I sought out the eldest Amazon alive. They claimed to not have the answer for my worries. She had far more numerous things weighing on her mind such as her intimate demise. Though I hated sharing the same air with her, I asked her to tell me her greatest regret.""I had given up on the Amazon Race until an Amazon reminded me, through martial effort, valiant spirit and a kind heart, I was wrong to abandon my faith with my people. Now I will die, unable to pass on my renewed hope because the one Amazon I would trust with my legacy is equally childless.""I asked her the name of this Amazon she felt was worthy of her legacy. Then I informed her she was wrong and the Amazon in question did indeed have a daughter. She asked to meet the daughter,""Last night I requested the presence of a female child residing with members of House Epona," the Keeper of Records looked up at the Golden Mare. "I provided neither the resident female (Caitlyn, Aya's Mother), or the House Head with an explanation."Female childSince my revival, Amazons were using 'female' child a lot more often. This meant, the motheer had never told her daughter farewell. The true fate of Aya of Epona would never officially be recorded. She has been born, but never recorded as an Amazon of her true House."The three of us met alone. The two embraced; birth mother and daughter. The eldest of us proclaimed she saw the light of Kururiyahhssi in her daughter's eyes. Words were exchanged. The child agreed to be adopted then departed. Further arrangements were made without the child's knowledge as we have recently observed.""I testify that there is only one Amazon alive today who knows what transpired and I will take those conversations to my grave. Does that suffice?" Krasimira finished. I was already regurgitating my mental quandary with my Isharans. Was Aya really a daughter of Kururiyahhssi?"I will leave it to the others to contemplate your, bizarre actions, Krasimira," Saint Marie frowned. "As for the rest of you, Aya has impressed me. If she has not impressed you, I do not care. I think she is definitely influenced by those two," Saint Marie motioned to Katrina and me. "It is a given since Katrina was of her blood and she has risked much in the presence of a man she calls 'Atta' and he calls 'Duma'.""Katrina is a cold, heartless snake and I am convinced she is one of the best 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death' the Host been served by in a long, long time.” Saint Marie paused then looked at me while she said; “ Cáel is a fool who leads with his heart when he should let better women take charge. Fortunately for the rest of us, he is reliably successful despite his multitude of handicaps."Was I upset about being insulted? No. The truth hurts and a Man needs to learn to roll with the punches. Buffy I could deal with. Katrina most likely appreciated being associated with a dangerous reptile. Saint Marie hadn't forgotten Katrina threating Saint Marie's daughter that was for sure."I am considering much of what our Princess would like me/us to do, because it is based in keen insight and well-reasoned thought. She wishes to spare our sons so we will have more warriors in the fight. We have already added men to Havenstone and one to the Council, as was the Will of the Ancestors.""Let me see, she wishes a bodyguard of fourteen (2 First House and 1 from Africa, Asia, Europe and North & South America, the Amazon presence in Australia was minimal and I doubted they would bring someone up from Antarctica, plus the seven matching Runners) without removing permanent members of any House and allowing all Houses to have access to our future Queen. I approve. It is a fine idea and I wish I had thought of it.""Should we add Runners directly into the Royal House? She doesn't think so and I feel this decision shows a remarkably insightful into the long history of our People and protects the Council's sensitivity on such matters. I approve.""Placing our sons into the care of the Royal House? We need to free up as many sisters as possible. Men under the care of the Royal House will be tradesmen and help-mates. Not a single weapon will be in their hands. If none of you have realized herlike will take two decades to implement, it only increases my eagerness to see her become 'casted'."Aya's hand shot up again.Yes?""I would hope the Council, or the Regents, will consider a 'like' which is not mine. It is a man's and it should be of no surprise the idea is Cáel's.""If you feel it holds merit, Aya, tell us," Saint Marie deferred."The 9 Clans have shown some interest in a children exchange programs among our youth as it would provide new techniques we can add to our arsenal an a new avenue to experiment with new ideas. I find the idea to be promising as the Host takes part in affairs beyond our own immediate needs. It would also supply partners between families to be shared for a season or two."Translation: Amazon women could breed with men of allied Secret Societies to reduce our dependence on our own, much smaller, male population. In the short term, it would go a long way to rectifying the Host's child-bearing problems.The Council's quarrelsome behavior was biting them in the ass big time. Saint Marie was right, the only opinion that mattered was hers until the Council elected a Regency. Had we not been at war, the Council would have ruled, but we were, so we took orders from the Golden Mare. Even if the High Priestess had been alive, she would have deferred to our designated War Leader on most things."Cáel Ish, Cáel Wakko Ishara is a very dangerous and devious male, Aya. Be careful of any council he gives," Saint Marie's caution was more playful than menacing."I'll be okay," Aya peeped. "He doesn't have sex with any woman until she is eighteen." That wasn't what the Golden Mare was cautioning her about. We all knew it. Aya was working to defuse a sticky bit of mental juggling, listening to a man's advice."On that we can agree," Saint Marie conceded. "Back to what I would 'like' to say. The New Directive is being implemented. I feel it goes beyond the purview of my mandate. I will leave it for the Regency to deal with. Katrina and Tessa have already invested in the groundwork in this endeavor, so I will endorse it if that is the decision of the Regency.""I have zero desire to add a single Runner to the Security Detail. I will open up slots in the training program if that is what the Regency demands. Each House's policy for dealing with the First Directive is their business, not mine. If any of you wish to consider something the Princess considers to be important, so be it. The idea of 1,000 Isharans does not appeal to me. Look how much trouble their tiny numbers have already caused us and take heed."Buffy began growling, which amused/worried the Houses on either side of us. Unlike me, Buffy didn't 'roll with the blows' and considered all manner of insults to me, House Ishara and her Isharan sisters to be answerable with violence. I loved her so. There was also no way I'd let her go after Saint Marie. The Golden Mare would crush her; I had no doubt."The unwelcome blood feud: are both House Heads ignorant of my forbiddance of such things? Apparently so. Both defied me by tossing insults back and forth. Considering we are at war with two of the most powerful Secret factions, I am angered by both for their idiocy.""The solution the Princess likes is rather novel," Saint Marie was punishing both Messina and me with her low voice and fiery gaze. Krasimira coughed."Yes?" Saint Marie suspended her anger."The suggested resolution is not without precedence," Krasimira spoke with a scholarly detachment. "In our early days, the Host settled such disputes in Spring and Fall gatherings by contests of foot speed, hunting, horsewomanship, archery and wrestling. If we revive the tradition, the competing Houses could nominate one woman for each contest to settle the matter. Only the hand-to-hand match would risk either contestant's health.""I will consider it and render judgement before the Sun sets today," Saint Marie nodded. "The final like pleases me greatly. Dealing with the 52 of you is, Cáel?"I was on the spot. I couldn't let down my fan base of one, Aya. Perhaps it was five, Buffy (who would never admit it), Daphne (who liked me), Katrina (because she liked fucking with my head) and Desiree (who was less likely to admit she found me funny than Buffy).I felt I gave a decent effort."'A ginormous pain in my hemorrhoids?' the basic one.""'More painful than having my cornea scrapped with a spoon?' more gruesome.""'Enough to make me want to give Sakuniyas a surprise French kiss?' most likely to be fatal.""'Worse than waking up to discover I'm related to Cáel Wakko Ishara?' most horrifying, for both of us.""'Inspiring me to toss it all away and take up Professional Bikini Mud Wrestling?' a personal fantasy of mine.""Why do we put up with him again?" one House Head remarked."Because I am worried that one," motioning to Buffy, "will stab me in the elevator after a meeting.""My First, are you acting psychotic around the Council members?" I looked over my shoulder at Buffy."Wakko Ishara, it is not an act. I am psychotic," she responded deadpan."Are you still packing that thermite grenade?""No Wakko Ishara. Daphne stole it from me and hid it," was her quick delivery."I love working with you two," Daphne whispered."What is it with you, your unsubtle sexual innuendo and me in a bikini?" Saint Marie stared at me."I find the combination of brilliance and lethality sexy. Just ask Elsa," I grinned. Then I grimaced as Buffy stomped on my toes. The House Heads and Apprentices on either side of me noticed and clearly expected me to do something, like to show outrage (because she was my underling), or start crying (because I was a guy)."Prestige," Daphne hissed quietly. "Prestige." She was reminding Buffy that beating me up in public made the other Amazons think even less of me than they already did."I will go with (B), the cornea scrapping," Saint Marie gave me a nod."Damn it," I muttered. I also got my foot out of the way before someone did any more damage to my phalanges.'Best Daddy Ever,' Aya mouthed to me. Back to the main action."It is not my place to order the rest of you to elect Shawnee, Rhada and Buffy to be the Regency. I do admit I admire the mixture of candidates," Saint Marie declared. I shot Rhada a quick look. She seemed really, really enamored of the idea of being part of the Regency, thus staying in New York for the next decade, or so."Before the idea is rejected out of hand, I suggest we ask the three people our Princess would like to be part of the Regency if they would accept the nomination," the Golden Mare continued. "Shawnee Arinniti?""I bow to the logic and reason of the proposal," Shawnee replied."Rhada Meenakshi?""I wish to join my sisters in battle, yet I accept the reasoning behind the proposal," Rhada nodded. "If my Head of House agrees, I will stay and do my part for our People." What was she saying to me? 'You are going to whip me, beat me, torture me, humiliate me and push me to beyond the limits of any pain I have experienced until I pass out ~ repeatedly'."I despair of finding any other compromise," Mahdi frowned. "If my Apprentice understands the greater difficulty she will face gaining prestige among her House-mates, I will consent to this proposal." Essentially a 'yes'."Buffy Ishara?""I was really looking forward to ripping the spines out of still living foes, but I would be a fool to go against Aya of Kururiyahhssi's smarts. If Wakko Ishara wants to walk out of this room unassisted, he will see the wisdom of this decision as well," she gave me a shark's smile. Daphne had surpassed her limit and punched Buffy."Hell ya, I agree," I exclaimed. "Now I know there will be certain times of the day when she isn't stalking me.""I'll work more pain into our limited schedule," Buffy grumbled."Are we sure he is the House Head and she is the Apprentice?" Yet another House Head joined the 'shit on me' train.It was telling of our group dynamic how we accepted the Pyramid of Pain. The underlings dispensed advice and violence as they felt necessary without their 'superior' getting pissy about it. Buffy felt totally justified hitting me and accepted being hit by Daphne, who continued to act unimpeded as Buffy's rapid-fire translator."If I was House Head, I'd handcuff him to me," Buffy clarified for her."What she said," I pointed a thumb Buffy's way. I'd have used a finger, but she might have grabbed, twisted and made me scream in pain."Perhaps the Council can vote on this as their second order of business," Saint Marie cloaked her command as a suggestion."Cáel Wakko Ishara, can I ask you a personal question?" Kohar of Marda caught my attention."Shoot, wait, probably not the best terminology in this crowd. Ask away," I replied."Have you faced a House challenge yet?""Yes. Just last night in fact. We free-climbed the north-face of Havenstone. I beat the next closest contender by three floors. I also had Princess Aya on the roof dropping bricks on anyone who attempted to get past me.""That means he isn't going to answer you," Beyoncé  interpreted for my audience."Can't you ever take these meetings seriously?" Febe Mielikki glowered."La, Febe, in the past few minutes I have watched the person I love most in the world get her life shat on," I shook my head."The only thing worse than seeing this happen to Aya is knowing this is her sole opportunity to not lose her soul, so I'm sucking up my heart's pain and putting forward a jester's persona so I don't put any more pressure on her than she's already been subjected to. Like me, she doesn't want the distinction of being a Person of Note.""Like me, she knows she must sacrifice her dreams for the sake of our People, the Amazon Host. Trust me, you would rather have 'me, the jester' than 'me, the Amazon' furious with the destiny that has foisted this pain on her'. Do any of you take responsibility for forcing the events of this morning?" I growled. If they wanted to see the other side of the Janus, so be it."Had you chosen a Regency in the fucking weeks you've been bickering, Kwenhamai could have been dealt with privately. The fate of the Royal House could have been put off a few years. Had you not all been so dead-set on being heroines of the Host, three of you would have sacrificed your bloodlust, your birthright and the future accolades you could recite on your final night (before taking themselves to the cliff), but none of you did.""Instead, you set the stage for dumping all of your indecisiveness on the slender shoulders of a nine year old girl most of you had written off as too fractured and frail to survive her 12th year only three months ago. So Febe how do you like the honest 'me'?" I finished off furiously.It was not lost on anyone in the chamber I was an Amazon raging against the cruelty of fate. Every other bitch in the room knew they had discarded my daughter's life as trivial and I was prepared to unleash violence on the next one to show an ounce of disrespect over Aya's surrendering of her destiny and my grief at failing to find a way to stop this from coming to pass. St Marie had just reminded them that I was 'reliably" successful despite my handicaps. Not an enemy anyone in the room wanted any part of. Saku would have been proud.A Note:I have been remiss in informing my readers of the names of the 53 Houses, even though I created it some time ago. I have made a few alterations to the original version as I've had to rethink certain parts of this tale, but here is the list I now use.List of Goddesses:The First Twenty Houses in no particular order :1) Ishara, Oaths, Medicine and War (to North America) (died out 450 CE; Reborn in 2014)2)   (Deceased) Anat, Goddess of War, Fury and Blood Sacrifice (died out 6th cent. BCE) ~ possibly resurrected by Sakunyias3) Anahit, water, wisdom and war (to North America)4) Arinniti, Sun Goddess (to North America)5) Hanwasuit, Sovereign Goddess6) Illuyankamunus, Dragon God (to North America) (Special Case)7) Inara, the Hunter Goddess8)  au ka, fertility, War, healing9) Kamrusepa, Healing medicine magic (to Africa)10) Lelwani, Goddess of the Underworld (to Africa)11) Hapantali, Pastoral Goddess.12) Hatepuna, Sea Goddess (to India)13) Hannahannah, Mother Goddess14) Moirai, Fate15) Selardi, Lunar Goddess (to Africa)16) Nammu, Primordial Sea, sailing, sailors (to India) (to Indonesia)17) Uttu, Goddess of plants (to Africa)18) Lahar, Cattle Goddess (to Africa)19) Ereshkigal, Queen of the underworld (to India)20) Istustaya and Papaya, Twin Goddesses of Destiny (to North America)Additional Houses, founded in Europe:(Code: Sc = Scythian; T = Thracian, P, Phrygian, C = Celtic, R = Roman, Sl = Slavic)21) (Sc) Marda, the One-Eyed Goddess/Vengeance {fantasy creation}22) (Sc) Farānak, A Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress (Dora)23) (Sc) Stolgos, Monstrous Slayer of Greeks (known to the Greeks as the Gorgon Stheno) {semi-historical}24) (T) Cotyttia, Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter (to North America)25) (T) Bendis, Thracian Goddess of the Moon and Hunting.26) (T) Semele/Rajah, Thracian Goddess of the Earth and Birth (to India)27) (T) Hylonome, Centaur Goddess28) (P) Cybele, Phrygians Earth Goddess on Lion's throne (to the Amazon)29) (C) Andraste, War Goddess; also Goddess of the Moon and Divination; 'the Rabbit Goddess'30) (C) Epona, Horses (to North America)31) (C) Cyhiraeth, Goddess of springs whose war cry precedes death (to Africa)32) (C) Maeve, War Goddess, the Enslaver of Men33)   (Deceased) (C) Nantosuelta, Earth, Fire and Fertility (died out 1st cent. BCE)34) (C) Artio, the Bear Goddess (to North America)35) (C) Nemain, Goddess of War and Panic36) (R) Minerva, Roman Goddess of War & Strategy37)   (Deceased) (R) Diana, Hunting and Archery (died out in India 16th cent. CE)38) (Sl)  iva, Love and Fertility49) (Sl) Morė, Goddess of harvest, witchcraft, winter and death (to North America)40) (Sl) Zorja, The twin Guardians (Evening/Morning Stars)41)   (Sl) Oźwiena, fame and glory (died out in 1944)42)   (Sl) Koliada, Sky Goddess and deity of sunrises/dawn (died out 17th cent CE)43) (F) Mielikki, Goddess of the Hunt44) (N) Ska i, giantess, Goddess of bow-hunting, skiing, winter, and mountainsAdditional Houses, founded in In dia:45) (I) Mookambika, Demon Slayers46) (I) Bhadra, Goddess of the Hunt (to Indonesia)47) (I) Meenakshi, The Liberator (Rhada and Madi's House)48) (I) Durga (Dark Mother) (to Indonesia)49) (I) Chandala Bhikshuki, Queen of Night, Death, Destruction and Rebirth50) (I) Jaya (Goddess of Victory)51)   (I) Chelamma, the Scorpion Queen (died out 16th cent.)Additional Houses, founded in Africa:52) (A) Oshun, (Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits)53) (A) Yemonja, Mother of Rivers (to the Amazon)54) (A) Oba, Goddess of Betrayal and Exile55) (A) Ox ssi, Goddess of Hunting, Forests, Animals and Wealth56) (A) Jengu, Goddess of Jungles and Water SpiritsAdditional Houses: founded in North America(NT = Native Tribal)57) (NT) Uusheenhiton (noo'uusooo' heeninouhuusei hitoniho') (Arapaho), Storm Horse Sister {fantasy creation}58) (NT) Gahe, Apache (supernatural spirits who live in the mountains)Prospective House:59) New, (Hittite) SzelAnya, the Dragon's DaughterCurrent Number of Central Houses:12 in North America (9+Ishara from Europe and 2 native)10 in Africa (6 from Europe and 5 native)3 in Amazonia (1 from Africa and 2 from Europe)8 in India (3 from Europe and 7 native)3 in Indonesia (2 from India and 1 from Europe)17 in Europe6 Deceased{7:35 am Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}Right where we left offMy rage over Aya wasn't called into question or challenged. Practicality had trumped tradition in the inevitable Amazon fashion. The only one elevated in anyone's eyes was Aya. Krasimira's apparent political adventurism was probably hard for the others to deal with. But in context, only Mahdi, Katrina and Saint Marie had seen her denounce Hayden, so this seemed a new side of Krasimira to most people in the room.Krasimira wasn't the spiritual authority, that was Hayden. She wasn't the Generalissimo, that was Saint Marie. Katrina and I were both appointed officials, we retained our House status. Saint Marie would die a member of House Inara and join her ancestors with pride. Her litany of accomplishments were well known to the Host.But Krasimira? She would die a member of House Cybele unheralded. The Keeper of Records recorded the feats of others, not their own. Nearly two generations ago, a young Krasimira had joined the Keeper's House as a guardian to an un-remembered (save by her) augur. The augur passed and she took up other duties within the house.When the old Keeper faced her final months, she elevated Krasimira to her spot. High Priestess Hayden had approved the choice without really knowing who Krasimira was. (No one outside the House of the Keeper had personal bonds with her anymore.) Seamlessly, she had sat in the old Keeper's seat and the Council kept chugging along.For the past eight years, she had sat quietly at Hayden's side and only speaking when addressed. Mostly, she did nothing overt. The actual note-taking was done by an underling. The Keeper took her own private notes squirreled away in her mind, to be written when she was by herself. Those notes would be handed over to her successor, for the Keepers' eyes and theirs alone.I don't think Krasimira knew me in particular when she dutifully followed Hayden into these chambers the day my death, or life in a cage, was bantered about. It was the day we first crossed paths. She would have known of Shawnee's request for the tooth of an Isharan, though she lacked the authority to ask why. (She wasn't a voting member of the Council.)But when Shawnee made her claim, Krasimira hadn't balked in her support, despite the oddity of Shawnee's declarations, I was indeed Ishara and my sisters could not dispose of me. The outrage of the others meant nothing to her. She pursued her obligations with true Amazon fearlessness both inside and outside of the Council.On the night of the 2nd Betrayal, a Keeper had sat there in silence as her fellow Amazons, the Ash Men, were sentenced to an unjust death. She'd had neither the numbers nor the authority to alter events, what else could she have done?So the Keepers kept track of the names of nineteen 'unaccounted for' Ash Men. For what purpose? An episode of Amazon history no one would ever want to revisit? Yet in my hour of need, coming back 2,600 years was the name 'Vranus of Ishara', sitting only a few keystrokes away. No one, save a few Arinniti diehards, wanted to know the truth of the Amazon Ash Men; and even they didn't want to remember us as individuals. To them, Vranus existed as a notation on the secret Charter of the Arinniti Sons.To Krasimira, Vranus had been a living, breathing warrior of the Host, not even dead, still mythically fighting the enemies of our race because his death had never been officially recorded. With my appearance, I stood in mute testimony to his death, and that of his sons and their sons for a damn long time.Still, I hated playing catch-up.With the Amazon custom of adoption, had no one asked if another possible Isharan heritage still persisted?I would bet they had. And I'd bet they had sought for that knowledge in the Rolls of the Host, always finding that pathway devoid of hope. But if the Keeper had known, why had she kept quiet?Pride, shame, Krasimira's words: we show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors, yet are now aghast that they turn away from us, I had confused her soliloquy with that of an accusation, not the long held understanding of her office.Even staring extinction in face, the modern Host hadn't truly accepted the answer, the line of Vranus. Faced with the truth, the Amazons would have 'forgotten' the descendants of Vranus all those centuries ago in the same way they 'forgot' all the other Ash Men on the day I was brought into the Host.But the Keepers did something more than maintain the rolls and records of the Amazons, more than watch over the augurs and make sure their messages made it to the proper ears. They safeguarded the truth. No matter what the Council decided and the High Priestess commanded, the Keepers remained honest stewards of the real history of the Amazons.Why?The Amazons were terribly practical and the truth could run contrary to the needs of political reality. Honesty wasn't a highly stressed Amazon virtue, loyalty was. So was bravery. And thus generation after generation of Keepers had lied to the Council and the High Priestesses. Every time those august personages had committed something to 'the nothingness', the Keepers had defied them and not forgotten.The first heads of the first twenty houses had surrendered their names for the unity of their people, but the Keepers remembered. All twenty of those women had been of the Amazon tribe of the Pala people living on the southern coast of the Black Sea when the Trojan Wars began. Over time, their true blood descendants had founded new houses and been adopted into others.Aya was truly a daughter of Kururiyahhssi; I had no doubt of that anymore. Had she not shared the same blood as the first Amazon, Krasimira wouldn't have brought Aya and Kwen together. Resurrecting an ancient tradition in a complicated fallacious coup attempt wasn't in her; nor was such a maneuver even a necessity. The Host would elect a Regency eventually and Saint Marie was handling the war in a highly competent fashion.So Krasimira hadn't sought out the heirs of Vranus, yet when one appeared, she welcomed 'him'. And when she stepped into the President's office with Hayden while waiting for me to be brought upstairs to face judgement that night, I imagined sending Hayden to the cliffs was the farthest thing from her mind.The rest were playing politics, gender politics, and couldn't see the truth staring Krasimira in the face. The truth was a bitch and didn't play favorites, or worry about the sensibilities of others. Krasimira had seen her sisters refusing to acknowledge the ugly reality they had created for themselves.Krasimira wasn't an advocate for Ishara, that was my job, and my crappy performance was something between Dot and me. She wasn't an advocate for the males and the New Directive. That was what Katrina was for. No, like a hundred Keepers before her, Krasimira was the silent sentinel for the Truth and, the Truth didn't care about anything but the Truth."The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon was a rather grand pronouncement from the Chief Librarian, wasn't it? Krasimira didn't chastise Hayden. That wasn't her place. Technically, neither was she disputing Hayden's ability to rule.This wasn't the climax of a dinner-theater 'Who Done It'. The crime before the High Priestess was High Treason and I was the pre-ordained guilty party. My 'ally', Katrina Epona, had not been an advocate for my defense. No. Again in my Hour of Need it was Krasimira.Lacking any true authority, she had defied her sisters and made her definitive statement. What truly transpired was Krasimira staring Hayden straight in the eyes and saying 'you cannot lie your way out of this one, High Priestess. We (as in all the Keepers past and present) will not let you'.Had she used those words, Saint Marie would have gotten around to asking what Krasimira meant. Krasimira would have rather died, because once those bitches discovered their nerdy sisters hadn't erased a damn thing in 3,000 years, they would insist they do so immediately. Krasimira wasn't about to do that. Thanks to the chaos surrounding Hayden's departure, no one had confronted her over her crucial action.To put it more precisely, the Golden Mare had been too busy and Mahdi had been wrapped up in Hayden's Decree and the resulting pressure on the Heads of House to pick the Regency. Katrina was probably a case of I'm not going to ask you so you don't have to lie to me. The only other living person in the room when Hayden's fate was sealed was me, and I'd had my hands full as well.I had to think about what I should and could do. I couldn't beat her up over Aya anymore than I could punish my Isharans for their misplaced arrogance. I decided to extend a 'thank you'; and not only for myself, but for every conceited bitch who had ever sat at this table, or all the other physical mediums the Council had used before this one.We held three votes: The Council couldn't collectively decide on how to implement Aya's other likes (1), so they agreed on her suggestion for a Regency instead (2). The final vote was to set a date for the next Council meeting (3). A date within 9 days of the Winter Solstice with the Regency to decide the precise date and give the House Heads two weeks warning.The last calamity at the meeting was initiated by a question of etiquette."How do we address the Princess at Council meetings?" the Head of House Hanwasuit inquired of Krasimira."There is no precedent for addressing the Iwaruwa alone. By our laws, she is not truly Dumalugal Aya either. She is Nasusara," Krasimira responded. Queen."She is a child," a third House Head declared, "not an Amazon.""No," Mahdi shook her head. "A, Aya is 'un-casted'. She bears an honorific presented to her by the leader of an established stronghold (Summer Camp) and confirmed by the Golden Mare minutes ago.""Congratulations my mamētu me eda," I winked to my past and present Princess, "you've just become a single-digit aged teenager.""Go Aya," Daphne and Buffy whispered behind me. Aya raised her hand, waiting for Saint Marie's recognition.However, Saint Marie moved steadily forward, declaring: "Until the Regency alters my decision, I decline assigning anyone to the Iwaruwa (heiress) whose sole purpose would be to stop her from sneaking off to endure her 12th Year Test. I judge it to be better we know where we placed her as opposed to failing to outsmart her as she needlessly proves to the Host she is, in fact, already an Amazon of the Host." Aya lowered her hand.Thus,'Yes, Aya is an Amazon of the Host' and 'Aya will take her 12th Year Test because she wants to take it, won't let us talk her out of taking it and the rest of us had better accept it'."So, she is our Queen then?"No one appeared to have an answer. Aya raised her hand once more."Yes?" the Golden Mare smiled down at her."Am I in charge?" Aya's other hand squeezed Saint Marie's as she spoke in a barely audible voice."Perhaps.""If I was in charge, I would like it if there was a law that declared the Queen of the Amazons would be officially represented by a Regency until she becomes casted, and antedate the law by one hour so this never, ever comes up again," Aya kept looking up at Saint Marie."Aya," Katrina exhaled.The council chamber was a mixture of awe, resentment and amusement. If Aya was Queen, she could make such a law. The Queen-ship was a Bronze Age autocratic institution designed to provide leadership to a 'state' in near-constant warfare with is neighbors.It was guided by oral traditions and military necessity, not written laws. As long as the queens provided successes on the battlefield and through diplomacy, she was deemed fit to rule. The traditional way of choosing a House Head was the same for the Royal House, the ruling Queen chose an heir.In the long list of Queens, less than half had been the 'eldest' child. No, those ancient War Leaders picked the bravest, smartest and most successful daughters to succeed them. Their wisdom in those selections showed in the fact the Amazons had held off a male-dominated world for over 600 years before fatally marching off to answer an ally's call to fight in the Trojan War."I advise against it," Saint Marie shook her head. "You are young. You are also the only Royal we have. Duty demands and sisters must always answer their sister's call."Translation: Aya was an adult now. It was similar to the first lesson Pamela gave me upon learning I was Ishara. We lived with bitches, it doesn't pay to play nice with bitches."Thank you," Aya nodded. She was 'thanking' Saint Marie for the lesson, no matter how hard it was to accept. Krasimira coughed."Now that the matter is settled," she spoke. The matter wasn't settled. Krasimira was steamrollering the discussion. "What do we call you?", to Aya."I, oh," in a very small voice. Aya's brow furrowed and her tiny nose wiggled. "I wish to be known by the legacy of my Anna (mother) and Atta (me, Cáel). I will be Assiyai hamai.""Love song?" Daphne murmured to Buffy."Assiyai hamai?" Krasimira asked for clarification. 'Love-song' was hardly the name of a 'fierce' Amazon Queen."The only other name I could come up with was Markappidusmene, which seemed less auspicious," she meeped. Markappidusmene meant 'Tiny Smile'."Perhaps Talliyahulla would be more auspicious?" Saint Marie nudged Aya. 'War Cry'."Oh no!" Aya balked. "That's your job.""What do you think your job is?" the Golden Mare questioned, suddenly realizing she'd made the mistake of making assumptions where Aya was concerned."To go to the cliffs with twice as many Amazon daughters, each equal to the likes of Saint Marie, Katrina, Oneida, Buffy, Elsa, Kohar and Tad fi as exist today. We must not 'survive', or simply replenish our numbers."We must become stronger because the World is a terribly messed up place," she raised her wounded hand and splayed her digits for the others to see the two she was missing, "and has become too small for us to seek safety in hidden freeholds any longer. If we cannot hide, we must rule openly. We are Amazons. Having no equals, we must rule alone. The only people we can trust, really trust, are the sisters at our sides."My job is to advance my People's cause with both compassion and cruelty and I will do so alone, because the Amazon Queen has no equals, only daughters."Not a sound. I could count out the individual fan blades recycling the air."Let our enemies tremble," Saint Marie nodded, repeating an earlier declaration."Assiyai hamai," Krasimira intoned, making Aya's royal name official before adding, "Assiyai hamai, you are mistaken about one thing. You are not alone. You have a mamētu me eda.""Oh," she perked up, shedding the gloom which surrounded her. She looked at me, our eyes met and we both grinned, then she giggled...and yet again, up her hand went."Yes?" Saint Marie looked upon Aya respectfully and then at me with much suspicion."Is the mamētu me eda of my mamētu me eda also my mamētu me eda?" Aya asked.Just like old times, only Katrina was ahead of the game. "Oh, by Epona," the Spy-mistress snorted."Cáel Wakko Ishara, who is your mamētu me eda, oh no," Saint Marie bristled."Ah, indeed," Krasimira nodded. "An unlooked for bonus.""Does someone care to enlighten the rest of us?" the head of House Nemain prodded."Oh!" That was Elsa."That's right!" Oneida, she was definitely a fan of me and my spasmodic lifestyle."Wakko Ishara's mamētu me eda, other mamētu me eda, is Temujin, Great Khan of the Reborn Mongol-Turkish Khanate and ally of the Host," Saint Marie let them know. "They are bonded by Cáel risking his own life to save Temujin's. It is actually a privately understood and publically declared fact.""In Temujin's words to the international press when our Cáel and our new Queen were kidnapped : I believe Cáel is still alive. If he wasn't, we would be seeing piles upon piles of dead enemy around him and his 'boon companion', clearly visible from orbit. Until they discover this carnal pit from Hell, I am sure they are both still alive," Oneida added. Rhada flashed ill-distilled hate her way."Shawnee, is your Apprentice's mind addled with the birthing hormones of their child?" Mahdi snipped. That was merely a cultural zing, not an attempt to expose my sinister erotic misdoings. Unfortunately, she was somewhat correct. Okay, she was totally correct."That was uncalled for," Shawnee graciously chided Mahdi, thus demonstrating her ignorance of the facts soon to be in evidence."Yes, I am carrying a child of Arinniti and Ishara," Oneida proclaimed loud and proud. "We share a Warrior's Love."I wasn't really sure how anyone else reacted to the news because House Ishara exploded into violence. That is the politic way of saying Daphne and Juanita were trying to stop Buffy from beating me to death. Here was yet another Ishara-baby and it wasn't gestating inside her. I was too stunned to defend myself.And the old refrain: 'and then it got worse'."Ta  ah kattanda!" (IN HITTITE for 'you pig's ass'), Rhada howled. I missed her drawing her blade, vaulting to the top of the table and lunging at Oneida. Most of the Amazons in the room stood, yet held their ground.They weren't shocked into indecisiveness, only trying to understand the nature of the conflict before intervening. This was not the first 'your Amazon did something my Amazon found infuriating' public threat they had to have dealt with. Rhada was more volatile than the average woman of her breed and station, true, but a violent in-chamber assault?That wasn't the 'worse' though. Oneida drawing her blade in an open challenge to Rhada wasn't the worse either, nor was her shouting."He loves me! He merely saved you!"Saint Marie yelling 'Ishara! Ishara!' over and over again, demanding I put my house back in order wasn't the end of my woes, nope.Me being yanked free of my House fur-ball into the volcanic gaze of Elsa as she seethed, "Rhada?" Oh yeah, Elsa's people and Rhada's people had a bit of a blood feud going on, how could I have forgotten that?But wait!"Not Fabiola!" gasped Messina, bizarrely assuming I slept with, okay, not such a huge assumption."Gael?" voiced by the Head of House Bendis, followed by Gael's "I'm late.""Damn it!" I pulled away from Elsa (slightly)."No. She only lets me ejaculate on 'safe days'," to Messina, Fabiola's Mom."Oh, come on! We had sex one time!" to Gael of Bendis, and finally,"Stop it!" to Rhada and Oneida, (deep breathe). "Really?" with my most believable happy face plastered on. "This is great news!"No. No it wasn't, and I could read the ugly emotional undercurrents on the faces of everyone present, except Aya, who kept the faith."Ishara," Saint Marie rumbled. I held up one finger to forestall her wrath."Oneida, Rhada and I have already decided to name our daughter Parvati. My daughter by Tad fi, ordained by the Goddess to be the first born, will be named Shala while my first son will be called Harki heni (White Hair, I'd call him Raider when we were in the 'outside' world).""My daughter by Miyako Yuri will be named Suwais-urāni, Fushichou in her Mother's tongue, in honor of Sakuniyas. My, other relationships," I would have liked to say 'none of your business', except Amazon mothers, or not, those children would be of Ishara's blood and potentially their kin.

In this episode of the Pure Life Podcast, we continue our epic road trip through Japan's Tohoku region, journeying south from Aomori Prefecture toward Tokyo. Our first stop is the coastal city of Miyako in Iwate Prefecture, where we refuel and take in the scenic beauty of the area. From there, we proceed to Minamisanriku in Miyagi Prefecture, a town profoundly affected by the March 11, 2011, Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Here, we embark on a sobering tour to witness firsthand the resilience and recovery efforts of this remarkable community.​ Our accommodation for the night is the renowned Minamisanriku Hotel Kanyo, perched overlooking the sea and the town below. We indulge in their exquisite onsen hot springs and savor an incredible kaiseki course meal. During our stay, we learn about the hotel's pivotal role in the town's recovery efforts, serving as a sanctuary and support hub in the aftermath of the disaster. This episode offers a deep dive into the strength and spirit of Minamisanriku, showcasing the community's journey from devastation to renewal. For more behind the scenes this amazing journey through Tohoku and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

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

The Lowest Moral Denominator.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Those who declare war are willing to kill as many as it takes to reach their goal.(The Lowest Moral Denominator)My first week at Havenstone, I'd biked to work alone on most days and I'd enjoyed that. I'd have treasure it more if I had glimpsed my future. I loved people, not crowds. I knew about violence, yet I had no affection for it. I was a confirmed bachelor. Now I was staring down both barrels of marriage. I had had also become a walking arsenal with a lethal omnipresent entourage.This situation was so fucked up that I had to stop by Caitlin's place just to see Aya. My favorite sprite gave me a hug and reminded me that I had to do what I could, not worry about what I couldn't do. She was my 9 year old Svengali. She was my little Valkyrie. In truth, she was the only woman knew I loved and that was the love of a father for his daughter.On the elevator ride up to the penthouse suite of the Midtown Hilton, I thought about Dad. What would Ferko Nyilas do in my shoes? It would be easy for someone who didn't know him to imagine my dad getting up on his high moral horse and telling me to just do the right thing, except that wasn't him. What he'd tell me was to not pass the buck. I had to deal with this, unless I knew someone else who could and would do it better.It wasn't about 'being a man'; it was being a member of the Human Race. We all pitched in and got the job done, or it didn't get done, and millions died because we refused to accept any responsibility for what was going on. That was my Dad, 'do what you can' and 'never be afraid to ask for help if you need it'. After the age of ten, he never told me I had to do anything. He'd tell me what needed to be done and leave it at that.So I wouldn't forget the pictures I knew I'd be seeing before too long, the innocent dead. If the sorrow broke me, it broke me. Until it did, I could not turn away. I had to 'do what I could'. That put me heading to a meeting at three o'clock in the afternoon in the penthouse suite.After my non-breakfast with Iskender, we had driven straight to Havenstone, where I demanded an immediate, private meeting with Katrina. This wasn't an info-dump and then out the door. No, I was part of the process now, one of those fools who were responsible for the lives of others. Katrina and I had argued about compartmentalizing my terrifying news.Her reasoning was clear. We were at war with the Seven Pillars. The basis of the 7P strength was China, so anything bad that happened to China was good for the Amazon Host. I nixed that. It was Katrina's job to think about our security. It was mine to juggle how we related to the rest of the planet. Absent the Golden Mare's opposition, Katrina couldn't stop me from doing my job as I saw fit.The Golden Mare was out of immediate contact, so we moved forward on my proposal. Katrina called Javiera, validated Vincent's call, and then suggested she bring in someone from the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID) at Ft. Detrick. Katrina wouldn't tell her why.I dispatched Delilah to talk to her MI-6 guy while I made my way to Nicole Lawless's law offices. I need to talk to my Aunts. An hour later, I dismissed a somewhat piqued Nicole from the room, then laid out the upcoming crisis to my Mom's clones. I hesitated a minute before dropping the other bomb, Grandpa Cáel was back.Was I sure? I countered with, "Do you know who Shammuramat was?"Why, yes they did; Grandpa had a bust of her in his main office."Well, she's back, in the flesh and that spells all kinds of problems".The six aunts present agreed. They invited me to fly to Europe with five of them. Much to their surprise and joy, I agreed. I told them I would be a party of twelve with plenty of firepower. They were less pleased about that.I exited that scene, only to engage in another, somewhat unrelated, bit of diplomacy. I met with Brooke and Libra for lunch. They brought Casper, who was seeing a specialist in New York and had expressed an interest in seeing me again. Into that volatile mix, I placed my request: 'Could Brooke put up a friend for a couple of weeks while I made other arrangements?'Yes, this was a 'bizarre' friend. Yes, this was a violently bizarre friend. Yes, she walked around with enough weaponry to scare a seasoned SWAT officer. And yes, she was a mass murderer. Cool,, if I agreed to stop by and see how this 'friend' was doing, and gave Libra advance notice too, then they were fine with it.Thus Shammuramat, Sakuniyas, Saku became Brooke's roommate. Insane? Not really. Putting Saku inside Havenstone on a regular basis was going to result in a blood bath. Saku was abrasive and she was a criminal in the minds of her 'sisters'. This gave her an 'out', some space and time with a civilized person who she couldn't emotionally bowl over.If Saku got physical with Brooke, we both understood that House Ishara was going to cancel her return performance. Amazons could defend themselves, so we were fair game for her rude behavior. Brooke couldn't, so she was hopefully out of bounds. Saku had agreed to the arrangement without comment.She'd already figured out that no other Amazons wanted her around and there simply wasn't room at my place. With that chore done, I was able to see Miyako off before her flight to Tokyo by way of Seattle. Selena was with her, but not going. Miyako did have three Amazons in case things got rough.The Marda House guard woman looked mature and humorless. Her age wasn't a problem. She was a grandmother, yet if she thought she couldn't keep up, she'd have taken herself to the cliffs before now. It turned out she had been in Executive Services before returning to House Marda. My diplomat, I didn't know her, but she seemed eager enough. The member of House Ishara was a brand new recruit named Jenna.She was from Acquisitions and spoke seven Asian languages, including Japanese. She looked absolutely thrilled to be heading off into danger. I instructed the younger two to obey the Mardan. In private, I 'advised' the Mardan that our main mission was to be of aid to the ninja. Information gathering would be secondary. More Amazons were on the way. She gave me a nod.For this critical mid-afternoon meeting at the Midtown Hilton, Wiesława lead the way off the elevator. Buffy went next, then me and finally Saku. Delilah and Vincent had already arrived with their appropriate factions. Katrina took a separate elevator, with Elsa and Desiree. Pamela was, somewhere. After she'd pointed out a half-dozen people from four different agencies in the lobby, she told me to not wait while she went to the bathroom.At the door of the Penthouse were two familiar faces from the NYPD, Nikita Kutuzov and her partner, Skylar Montero. When Javiera's investigation followed me to New York, they had been drafted into the taskforce."Hey ladies," I smiled. My last meeting with Nikita hadn't gone well."Cáel," Nikita smiled back. "How have you been?""More trouble than normal," I shook her hand."We can tell," Skylar relaxed somewhat. As Nikita's partner, she had to know that our relationship had soured when she started investigating me. Katrina's group came up."I think you are the last to arrive," Nikita informed us. This time, Desiree was the first one through the door. I could hear the conversation trail off. Wiesława went next, then Katrina, me, Buffy, Saku and finally Elsa. I decided to toss 'civilized' behavior out the window seconds after entering. Virginia Maddox of the FBI, the initiator of the Amazon children's airlift, was here.I hugged her and after a moment, she hugged me back."Priya says hey and," she blushed slightly, "she's counting the days, all forty-five of them.""Don't forget, I owe you," I grinned then patted her shoulder. Javiera was next."Cáel," she headed my familiarity off. She was a Federal Prosecutor after all."This is the head of this taskforce, Jonas Baker (deep breath) Associate Deputy Undersecretary of Analysis for Homeland Security {ADUAHS} (deep breath)." I extended my hand, so he shook it. He looked somewhat annoyed by this whole encounter. Javiera was duly nervous because of his poor initial attitude. The introductions went around.Half way through it, Pamela showed up, from where, I didn't know. Delilah, her MI-6 boss and the British professional killer Chaz were there, much to the chagrin of the Americans. Vincent was there with Javiera. Cresky was representing the CIA plus there was ATF, ICE, Riki Martin (?) from the State Department and a man in a civil servant's salary suit and a military demeanor, Captain Moe Mistriano."Fine," Mr. Baker began. "I hope you aren't wasting our time." His gaze flicked between Katrina and me."May the Blessed Isis bring understanding to our meeting," I intoned, in old Egyptian."What was that?" Baker turned on me."Praying for guidance," I replied. Isis wasn't in the Amazon pantheon, but I could sure use her help at this point. Baker was going from put-out to pissed-off. If that is how they wanted to play it, their choice. "Are you the specialist from Ft. Detrick?" I asked the Captain."Yes, I am and I hope this is worth my time as well," he gave me a steady gaze. Oh, I really needed that."Anthrax, China," I stated and weighed his response. Oh yeah, I had his attention now, which meant his bio-warfare unit had some idea about what was happening in China."Care to enlighten me?" Baker inquired. He had gauged his medical expert's reactions as well and he didn't like what the biological warfare specialist was not saying."Mr. Baker," the Captain decided to go first. "Roughly fifty-five hours ago, we got wind that there was a massive Anthrax outbreak in Western China. Xinjiang, Qinghai, Gansu, Ningxia and Nei Mongol administrative regions have all reported outbreaks."Holy Shit!" Riki Martin gasped. Her dark, whip-like, Hispanic features noticeably paled."That sounds suspiciously like bio-terrorism," Jonas Baker turned on me."You'd be right about that," I refused to evade. "It is and it is about to get a whole lot worse.""The PRC has a robust vaccine program," the Captain stated. "That is why they aren't making a public stink about it. They have the problem well under control.""Damn, " I closed my eyes and lowered my head. In some deep section of my mind, I had fanned the feeble flames of hope that somehow, the Earth  and  Sky program had derailed. "That is the 'whole lot worse' I was talking about. The terrorists aren't terrorists. They, ""What do you mean they are not terrorists," Baker snapped. "They, ""Shut up and let the man speak," Katrina said calmly."Who are you again?" he glared at Katrina. "If you aren't part of the solution, you are part of the problem and I'm here to make sure this problem is dealt with. I am not here to play footsie with you. I am going to be asking some tough questions and you had better answer them.""I'm Cáel's boss," Katrina smiled. "Since we came here to help you and you don't want to let us speak, we are leaving. Cáel."The Amazons didn't turn and leave. No, we backed up toward the door."You can't start talking about an ongoing terrorist threat and then walk out the door," Baker argued."Javiera, I apologize," I looked her way. "Mr. Baker, Javiera's a smart cookie. I'm sure she's given you every bit of information that has come across her desk. That means you know we consider ourselves an independent nation-state without borders. You can't intimidate us. We feel no obligation to obey your legal system and we operate internationally," I kept going."Now, as we are trying to repay Javiera's kindness in our time of need, you are treating us like criminals currying favors. Blow it out your ass, you pompous bureaucrat" I concluded. "We aren't the problem here.""If that's the way you want it," he shrugged. "Javiera, arrest them." Pause."Sir, you do realize that if I give that order, there is a good likelihood they will resist with force?" Javiera replied calmly. Baker looked around the room."We outnumber them and these are law enforcement officers," he insisted. "Now, ""I wouldn't count on that 'outnumbered' thing," Delilah chimed in.Chaz and MI-6 dude didn't seem to be onboard with his plan. "I have reason to believe Cáel has information on a highly virulent weaponized Anthrax program. If our US allies aren't interested, Her Majesty's government certainly will be." That did interest the MI-6 senior officer."That is all the more reason to put these people into federal custody," Baker stated."Then what, Mr. Associate Deputy?" Chaz said. "Are you going to torture them for time sensitive data? In my military service, I've met some truly hard characters. Some people you can put a gun to their child's head and they'll tell you what you want to know. Not this group. They'll memorize your face and wait for a chance to make you pay, whether you kill the kid, or not.""That's my read on them as well," Agent Vincent Loire added."Mr. Baker, I worked under you when we were both in Counter-terrorism," Virginia spoke up. "I think you are mishandling this. Invoke the Patriot Act and all we get is a roomful of statues. I've fought beside these, Amazons and I'm reaffirming my report to Ms. Castello (Javiera), they do not believe their behavior is wrong.At some point in their fifties, they commit ritual suicide. They make their twelve year old daughters fight for their lives. They murder their male infants. Sir, they are an alien society, indoctrinated at birth to believe they are spiritual inheritors of the ancient Amazons mentioned by Homer during the time of the Iliad.They fanatically believe in a pantheon of goddesses and possess very little inclination for integration. They think they are superior to everyone in this room, except for Cáel, he's an oddity," Virginia pleaded."That legion of crimes is yet another reason to arrest them," Baker just wouldn't give up."What you have described, Agent Maddox is a right wing nut cult, like the Branch-Davidians at Waco. Arrest them.""What are the charges?" Javiera's face blanked out."Conspiracy to commit terrorist acts; aiding and abetting an international terrorist organization," Baker snapped."Everyone, put down your firearms and blades," Katrina ordered. I didn't have the status to give that order except to my own. For that matter,"Team, disarm," Elsa commanded her Security Detail people. Technically, Katrina couldn't order those girls to forego their primary mission, defend the Host. Out came the guns.The group of us went over to one wall, put our backs to it and sat down. Pro forma, Virginia, Vincent and the ATF guy drew their firearms. By this time, both Riki and the Captain looked ready to explode."Tell us what you know about this terrorist conspiracy and, " Baker said."We invoke our Right to Council," I raised my hand."You are being charged under the Patriot Act, smart-ass," Baker sneered. "We can hold you indefinitely if we can show a risk to National Security, such as a terrorist attack in China.""I apologize for dragging you into this," I turned to Katrina. "You too, Saku." Saku shrugged."I told you there is no benefit in helping 'these people'," Katrina comforted me. She meant non-Amazons and it was rather sad that it was looking like she was right and I was wrong."Unless you want to grow old and grey in Guantanamo, I suggest you start talking now," Baker threatened.There was no bravado on our part. We didn't zone out, or ignore him. We looked at him the same way we would a yappy dog while continuing to scan the room. Being disarmed didn't make us defenseless. It merely limited our options."Sir," Riki tapped Baker."If the People's Republic of China finds out we withheld details of a terrorist attack on their soil, that would be BAD, with a capital 'B'.""I have to call this in," the Captain shook his head."Wait until we have active intelligence," Baker said. The Captain completed his call."I don't work for you, Sir. I work for the Department of Defense and that man," the Captain pointed at me, "strung two words together he shouldn't have. Now, I don't know any of you people. I was told to come here, so here I am. I do know, Sir, that you are ignoring the advice from your experts about the expected results of standard interrogation techniques.You are acting on two assumptions which I find to be fictitious," the Captain was clearly furious. "First, you seem to think this won't get out, and you are wrong. Why? We have no idea who these people have talked with. We can only believe that any person outside of their organization can use that revelation for their own ends. Secondly, you haven't grasped the extent of the emergency.Chinese citizens are already starting to drop dead as we speak. This variant of Anthrax is highly contagious, fast-acting, and appears to be incredibly fatal. No nation on Earth has enough Anthrax vaccine on hand to protect their entire population, and that still implies that the vaccines we currently have will work on this new bacteria. Need I go on?"Then Captain Mistriano went back to talking softly with his companions back at Ft. Detrick. The MI-6 chief made his own call. This was his job after all. Before Baker could even start to threaten the Brit, Delilah and Chaz had their guns out, though pointed down. The US law enforcement operatives were far more leery of challenging agents of a friendly foreign power."I will make sure to tack on charges for all those deaths you are facilitating," Baker piled it on. "The US government might find it necessary to send you to the People's Republic of China to face charges there. After all, you claim to not be US citizens." None of us responded verbally. We looked at him. We certainly heard him speak, but his '

Esta noche en Noctámbulos Podcast, exploramos dos casos reales que desafían la lógica y el misterio:

Cáel saves a spirit and risks losing his soul.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Life gives you two chances to get it right; be who you want to be, or who you need to be.(Making choices we can live with)"Trouble," Wiesława relayed to our vehicle. Velma had an 'issue' at my apartment. She'd gone ahead in order to see to my security. My GL-550 had come within a block of the apartment when Wiesława's call came."Tell me what the problem is," I demanded. Wiesława relayed my request."Your roommate won't let them search your bedroom," was the answer I got back."Fuck that," I grumbled. "Tell Velma I'm coming up. Wiesława, take us to the front of my place." She gave me a cautious look, testing my resolve. Sensing that I'd jump out if I had to, she spoke over her blue-tooth to Velma. She wisely didn't pass on Velma's vitriol at me poking my nose into my SD's business, protecting me.As we pulled up and double-parked, everyone piled out."Are we going to need any "extra" assistance?" Delilah suggested. Considering the flock of 'follow-up' cars and SUV's tailing us, I wasn't overly worried about the law enforcement angle.What was I worried about? It wasn't dark yet on a weekday and Timothy was home. Since Velma would have informed me if he was toting around the Black Death, this had to be a crisis of a personal nature, most likely my personal nature. Wiesława struggled to keep pace with me as I took the stairs three at a time. She'd given up on me letting her go first.At the third floor landing we came across one of Velma's team covering that approach. A second member was at the door and from inside, I could hear Velma cursing in Hittite under her breath. But first,"I really don't think you'll need your sword, Saku," Delilah advised. "Timothy's not that kind of trouble.""Hey Velma, Crewe (who, together with Constanza, I'd sparred with, way long ago) and Timothy," I loudly announced myself just as I stepped in. "What seems to be the problem?" Timothy sighed and gave a head-toss to my closed bedroom door. Since I didn't want to be an asshole, I turned to Velma. "Let me send a neutral party to check things out." I had so many to choose from, Miyako, Selena, Vincent and Delilah.Saku might kill on general principle. Buffy and Wiesława were Amazons and I was beginning to think that Amazons, shit. I sighed, groaned and lowered my head. I looked to Timothy and clapped my wrists together (slave-like). He nodded. Rhada. Mother-puss-bucket! What was I going to do?"I've changed my mind, Velma, the room is fine," I started off. "I know for a certainty that my life is not imperiled by my visitor. Everyone else, I am about to have sex, so could you please head out to a restaurant and give me an hour, or two?" I took in the rest. Timothy coughed and pointed to the ceiling. "Three hours, " another cough, "four hours." No more coughing."Who is it?" Buffy snarled, lest I forgot that I was her scratching post. She was resenting the lack of scratching going on between us. I was about to tell her I needed some private time,, or just not tell her anything. But I was working on not being a jerk. I pulled Buffy to Timothy's room and gave her the lowdown. She mulled over the information. Her wrapping a hand around the back of my head and pulling me into a steamy kiss was unlooked for."Okay," she smiled. "Please don't think I'm not righteously pissed with the two of you, but I know you are doing the best you can with your limited survival instincts.I'll take care of everyone." Off she went and in moments, the room had cleared out until it was just Timothy and me."She stopped by work this afternoon looking pretty badly beaten up, emotionally," he explained. "I doubt she's slept in three days and she's really confused about all kinds of things. I was in the process of letting her know you weren't going to be back for two more days when the Welcome Wagon arrived.I figured the last thing she needed, before seeing you, was public exposure," he said."Thanks buddy," I hugged him. "A few hundred guys tried to kill me and Aya last night, so we came back early. Now," I steeled myself, opened the door and entered my room. Rhada was at the head of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and my pillows stacked up around her in some sad effort at a visual barrier.Her eyes had a sunken quality to them that suggested someone two steps past hopelessness. She was waiting for me to say something, which was an added truckload of bad news in my book. I began to undress in an unhurried manner. The shirt came off. Working the belt free came next."I've missed you," I said in a calm, yet positive manner. No response.I finished undressing while she remained frozen and emotionally clouded. I made some semi-educated guesses. Her mind was probably an incomprehensible cyclone of clashing upbringing principles and adult desires. She didn't need to be built up, Rhada needed to be rescued. That kind of emotional crisis was something I didn't need, or want, at this moment in my life.Rhada had nowhere else to go. Her martial bravery was of no use in the matter of her heart's insistent call. Her fear was of a different nature. She was looking down that unholy, dark corridor that was the last walk of all failed Amazons. She craved her personal slavery to a man and master. It was tough to move farther away from her native culture than that, or so she thought."Have you missed me?" I asked with authority. I ran two fingers along her left jawline. Rhada nodded. It was a rather feeble effort. "I asked you a question.""Yes," she sniffled."I am curious why you are hiding your body from me, Rhada," I prodded her. I wasn't 'curious'; I was peeved and she knew it"I don't know why I'm here," she moaned."Oh, " I mused. I was on her like lightning.She struggled weakly as we rolled around until she was ass-up on my lap. I had her right arm pinned to her back. Two sharp blows rained down on her covered posterior. Just two for now."I asked you a question. We both know your answer was inadequate," I spoke softly. Two more stinging, open-handed slaps to her buttocks. "I have defeated you in battle," two more smacks. "I have repeatedly taken you by force as my captive," two more with her accompanying moan."What makes you think you can defy me now, Rhada?" The promised blows did not fall. "I own you, don't I?" She moaned wantonly from anticipation of the spanking that wasn't coming. The lesson was simple: punishment and reward were mine to dispense, not for her to demand."I'm sorry," she mumbled."The incompetent are sorry, failures are sorry, useless people are sorry," I stated, followed by two more loud, cupped-hand blows on her ass. "People apologize when they commit an error. People apologize if they plan to learn from their mistakes. Now, are you someone else's miserable excuse for a human being, or are you MY person who learns from her lapses in judgment?""I bring shame to my people," she whimpered. Two more smacks fell upon her backside."Why do you insist on insulting me, Rhada?" two more, far harder, spanks landed causing her to gasp in pain. "Of all the Amazons I have defeated, I picked you to be mine, captive, no other. I thought you had the fierce spirit worthy of my fighting prowess.Your crawling up and dying inside disappoints me," I continued. It didn't disappoint me; it scared me. Rhada was so fiery and feisty. Seeing her mentally ground down into a crippled state ate at my mind."I'm afraid, Cáel," she choked out between her tears.The emotional riptide she was going through caused her to shake uncontrollably. I telegraphed my intent to move her, face down, to the middle of the bed. As I straddled her, I dragged her hands over her head and crossed her wrists. I nuzzled her shoulder, the crux of her neck, and ear."What are you afraid of, my captive?" I murmured.The term 'captive' along with the gentle affections brought forth a pleasurable response from her."I am perverse," she whispered. "I want you to take me as I cry and scream. I want to feel your body pressing down on me as you are doing now.I beg to be spanked, lashed, tease and tormented by you. Steal my sight and hearing. Render me helpless and utterly at your mercy, my Cáel," she pleaded. I'd allow the 'my'."And?" I mused."And?" she was confused."I was waiting for you to request something perverse, something I wouldn't do to you," I explained. I punctuated that by pulling her shirt aside and biting down on her shoulder strong enough to leave deep indentations on her flesh."Aha!" she yelped. She still wasn't making the connection, how incredibly stubborn of her."Do you doubt my bravery?" She didn't respond, so I bit into and worried her left earlobe. "Do you doubt my dedication to the Host?""No," she moaned. "You are an excellent warrior.""So we both agree I have earned the right to take you as my captive," I teased her."This is why I find your insolence to be so confusing," I kept up my routine. "It is almost as if you would rather be bound, whipped, beaten, spanked, bitten, lashed, covered with hot wax, blindfolded, and gagged instead of giving me my due obedience." Rhada's deep sensual moan was what I had been looking for. She spread her legs slightly then pushed her ass against my crotch."I am yours," she sniffled slightly. "You defeated me in battle and I can expect no other fate.""Dates take off their clothes. Slaves strip before their masters," I related. Not true. I had enjoyed multiple stripteases in my time and even give a few. What Rhada wanted to know was that I hungered for her naked flesh."You are on top of me," she protested. I pulled her braid to the side and chomped down her right shoulder. That earned me another squeal. Rhada's initial efforts were frantic, inspired by her pain. Within seconds she recalled our shared moments and slowed down. She knew I liked to watch her clothes come off and go back on. I'm odd that way.I rewarded her obedience with alternating kisses and nips to her freshly exposed flesh. As we progressed, Rhada became more insistent for sexual attention. Her finely honed thighs and abdominal muscles ground her buttocks against my cock in a continuous, circular motion. In our current state, she couldn't get her pants and panties off.When I rolled off, Rhada shot me a worried look. First she flashed up fear because she mistook my look for one of anger. In a second, she keyed to my real mood. I was going to own her, stretch her to her limits and then take it one step further. I was going to use my war captive as I saw fit, rip my pleasure from her passion and break her doubts down to their foundations.She shimmied out of her remaining clothing. I rummaged up the appropriate toys with a bit of an amused snort. Odette had organized the 'toy box' (including a bill for 'modernizing and updating' of my equipment.) What girl does that for a guy, categorize sexual aids she knows you are going to use on other women in your life?"Loosen your braid," I directed her after I turned and soaked in the view. She was in the center of the bed, kneeling with her buttock resting on her heels. Rhada's hands rested just above the knees, her great brown eyes had more of their old spark to them. Part of that was caused by my words sinking into her psyche. The rest was her love affair with my physique.Me and all my scars, plus I had a new one for her to judge and appreciate."Small caliber round from a Seven Pillar's QCW-Type 05," I informed her. Amazons loved their weaponry and their martial exploits."Did you kill him?" she asked with her intensity overcoming her attempt at a demur nature."Him and a bunch of other guys," I chose to answer as she unbraided her silky, black hair that cascade down to the small of her back. I was the son of a Chicago working stiff, not some super-soldier."You fought for the Host and killed our enemies," she tried to ease my mind.I wanted to feel bad about what had happened. The horror I had inflicted would never go away."Most of them were burned alive," I enhanced her experience by ripping open my own, fresh mental scar tissue. For Rhada, ruthlessness, martial valor and battlefield accomplishments were their own aphrodisiac.In her translation of events, her captor had proven yet again he was a fearless, masculine champion, a lion-heart. I put one knee on the bed and waited. Rhada had to shuffle to me. It was interesting to see the magnetic effect of the three items I held in my casual grasp, a leather collar, a thin silver-coated chain and a pair of leather handcuffs. I motioned with the cuffs first.I left it for her to discern my intention. I wanted her to put her wrists forward, yet I wanted to train her to know my wishes. Not only would it keep her mind and perceptions occupied, it would give her a needed sense of learning and broadening her education. It was a very subtle narrowing of the eyes that I used to tip her off.She half-turned with her wrists at her back, caught my 'displeasure' and then extended her arms toward me. I cuffed her right wrist, then her left wrist and finally cinched them together with their two bronze links, all the while demanding she retain eye contact with me. With our silent measuring of our true grit, we established our positions.Without that clash of wills, everything else would be tawdry trinkets of no value. As she accepted those bonds, she set aside her willingness to challenge me and embraced our new sense of harmony. A corner had been turned. Submission became the only outcome her destiny allowed. Mamitu; the Amazon belief that the Goddesses put nothing before the sisters that experience hadn't prepared them for.Out of arrogance, she had struck me. Destiny had prepared me for the fight and I had won. In tribute to destiny, Rhada had acknowledged the lesson and was finally learning from it. I yanked her wrists up roughly until they were extended high over her head. Rhada kept them there, as I intended, because now was time for the collar.This time she couldn't keep her eyes from flickering to the device until it passed beneath her chin. With the cuffs, I had been deliberate and relentlessly purposeful. The collar was an easy gesture, me exerting my rights as her captor and master, nothing more. I spared her a smile. Her dark brown-olive complexion, nearly black around the areola and nipple, was extended by the raising of the arms overhead for my viewing pleasure.Lastly, there was the chain. It had clasps at both ends, so I hooked it around the single ring on the collar and pulled Rhada toward me. I feasted on her lips, touched tongue to tongue inside and outside our mouths, and ended up chewing her lower lip. As I pulled and plucked it with my teeth, my fingers began to coax a stiffening of her teats.Gentle caresses turned into vigorous touching that evolved into painful pinches between the thumb and forefinger and energetic plucking. I let my kisses migrate from her lips to nose (briefly) then her cheeks and the underside of her jawline. Rhada made a gasping-choking noise as I nibbled her flesh.My distraction must have worked because she missed my hands moving down. The middle and forefinger of my left became a wedge working between her buttocks. With the right, I led with my middle finger, using my fore- and ring-fingers to part her labia. The clip-rings of the chain were secured on each thumb.Her fluids turned her sex into warm molasses coating folds of molten tenderness. My solo probing finger didn't penetrate, not yet. I ran the length of her vulva vestibule, rubbing her vaginal and urethral openings. Rhada expressed a piteous whine as I stoked her sexual frustrations. I ratcheted up my torture when my left twin fingers reached her sphincter.Tap the opening, tease her with false penetrations. My lips reached her neck right beneath her ear. I pulled in the flesh with a powerful suction, grabbing the tiny tip of taut flesh with my teeth. Her dolorous pleading ramped up as I delved my fingers in simultaneously. Rhada's anal ring pulsed, alternating between ushering my forefinger inside and resisted my progress.I was breaching her defenses without lubrication. It was wiggling, tentative advancement on my part and sensations of extreme sensitivity on her part. By comparison, her vagina virtually sucked me in. Having been denied sex for so long (if you counted two weeks as long) all the while fantasizing to the point of tripwire anticipation, she was quickly rising to orgasm."Do not," I cautioned her. Rhada trembled. Her groans became guttural as she reached down into her physical conditioning to exhibit some control over her racing heart rate and labored breathing. Had I stopped my assault, she might have held out. I didn't. The task for us both was to push her past the point of control. She was going to lose, that was given.How she lost was the lesson. What level of stimulation was going to be too much? She fought it with every fiber of her being. She fought it for me. Rhada sweated profusely and vibrated like a gypsy tambourine. She could not win. She knew I never intended for her to win. But I wanted her to reach down deep and fight.She would fail and I would punish her for her failure, but it would be a punishment that she felt was well-deserved, and she craved that. Even her failure was part of our dynamic, captor and captive. Pain with a purpose. Pain as a thread that united us. She could not wound herself the way I could. Everything she could inflict, she would sense and prepare for.I provided torment from unexpected angles and stimuli in a myriad of forms. Everything faded until only the touch and the pleasure of the messenger remained."Urah, " her opening declaration of the overwhelming tide was animalistic and desperate.For fifteen seconds I continued to play with her as her climax turned upon itself, building and becoming more chaotic. In the back of my mind, I realized my sex play was being cruel to my neighbors. I had to hope the anonymous death threats would keep Mr. Fiennes at bay.I'd deal with my 'friendly' female neighbor later, once I figured out how to repay her for her patience and the cookies she'd sent over when I was ill. For Rhada, it was a temporary cessation of my sexual attention and allowing her to rest her body against mine. I admired her ability to hold her arms aloft. Still,"You failed," I whispered into her ear. Rhada hiccupped. I dragged my fingers covered with her cunt juice up her pubic mount, abdomen, around the belly button and between her breasts. At the conclusion of the trip was the resounding 'click' of that end of the leash being attached to her collar. "I don't think you have been humble before me."I looped the chain around her shoulder, then dragged it over her left breast. She shivered. My next stop was beneath her right breast. Her nipple seemed to swell up as I rubbed the other loop all over her areola. Next under the right mammary, then looping the chain around her right arm before reaching around the back and securing the second clasp.It was both a symbol of her captivity and body ornamentation. The shiny silver links contrasted with her dusky, sweaty flesh.

The sparks before the ignition of war.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Time is not your enemy any more than breathing and your heartbeat are inconvenient."Aya, Why don't you go help Saku," I rechanneled Aya's boundless energy. "Back in the day, every noble was attended to by squires who took care of their gear and served that noble as body servants. In turn, she taught them the art of war." Sakuniyas shot me a nasty look.Aya poked her head between Pamela and Miyako."That sounds like fun," she met Saku's glacial chill with a warm spring breeze."I don't want their help," she grumbled."It sounds like free labor," Pamela smirked."I said I don't want their help," Saku snarled."Okay," I rolled my eyes. "Aya, Fatal Squirts, attention!" They all looked at me. "I command you, as your Celestial Potentate Poohbah, to stare at Sakuniyas until she gives you a task of a personal, to her, nature to do. Get at it."Four sets of precocious, will-eroding cuteness assaulted the Assyrian Queen, victor of a hundred battles and skirmishes."You are despicable," was Saku's chosen acidic barb."I second that motion," Pamela patted me on the back. "I keep finding myself being prouder and prouder of you, every day. Stop it," she teased me.None of those words dampened my mood, or my plan."How much longer is this flight going to take?" Saku groused."Four hours," I lied. It was way closer to two.To my way of thinking, it wasn't like she could get much angrier with me after she discovered my ruse. (I was wrong. She could and did. I'm an idiot.) Saku shook her head, and the task-mastering began. An hour and forty-five minutes later, the pilot alerted us that we were ten minutes from our final approach. Bits and pieces of her armor were all over the front seats and the floor of the exit-way space.Diligent little fingers were still polishing and checking straps for signs of excessive wear or fabric fatigue. Their 'noble' hovered over them, pointing out the right way to do things and what they were doing wrong. Her congratulating them for doing a good job was rather non-Amazon of her, but the kids ate it up.With the ten minute warning still hanging in the air, my duplicity inspired Saku to finally flip out. I was pretty sure she didn't think through what she was doing. She simply drew her 22cm/9in blade and threw it at my face. Miyako caught it between her hands, an effortless clap, fuck."Four hours!" Saku howled at me. "You said we had four hours, I could have held them off for two!""Why do you think I lied to you?" I kept my amusement out of my tone because I was rather attached to the idea of my wagging tongue not being cut out of my mouth.It wasn't lost on us that every member of my SD team was alert and had blades drawn (firefights on planes in mid-flight is severely frowned upon) and were staring at her. I wanted to tell Rachel to 'stand down', except that would be unfair. I wasn't 100% sure Saku was done being furious with me.Telling Rachel to set aside her instincts was something I tried to keep a minimum, only to be used when it I was forced to take in the bigger picture."What is going on here?" Rachel asked with professional calm. So, I told her the truth, the real truth."Oh," Rachel grunted. She gave a motion for her team to rest easy then came my way."Knife," she held out a hand to Miyako who instantly gave it over, pommel first. Rachel deftly flipped it over so she was holding the razor sharp blade then smacked me on the top of my head, hard."Ow, " I whined. "That hurt.""It was supposed to," Rachel glared. She walked down the aisle to Saku, returning her blade."Did you just smack him in the head?" Saku was trying to make sense of what she'd seen."Yes," Rachel nodded."He screwed up and I impressed upon him to not do it again. As you might guess, this is a fairly regular occurrence with him. We all take wicked-fine pleasure in that part of his education.""But you are his bodyguards, is he really the Head of House Ishara, or was that a lie as well?" Saku was still confused by her prideful arrogance and how I was misplacing my own."Sakuniyas, Cáel was not raised in our culture. He has only been a member of the Host for a few weeks. This is not to belittle his impressive education," Pamela intervened. "Both he, and those of the House who know him, agree that the occasional physical chastisement works better than words alone.""You could reward me with sex," I muttered. "Positive reinforcement, ""Forty-six days, Bitch," Rachel growled."You are ferocious in battle, fearless and clever," Saku turned back to me. "Why do you put up with this constant degradation?""Degradation? I'm not insulted by what Rachel did or said," I retorted. "She is trying to teach me things I need to know if I'm going to survive. I respect her superior knowledge in her professional capacity," I continued. "I don't get upset when people tease, taunt, or challenge Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, that's me, if you are confused.I save my indignation for those who scorn Dot Ishara, Yakko Ishara and all members of House Ishara, past and present. Quite frankly, being disrespectful to me is actually rather difficult because I only care about the sensibilities of a handful of people.""How can any warriors follow a leader into battle if that person has no pride and never shies away from shame?And besides, what is this Wakko/Dot/Yakko nonsense," Saku persisted. "Fatal Squirts, start assembling my armor." Her attention was split between me and her panoply."Hello," I snickered. "I'm a male Amazon. The fact that I haven't run for my life way before now is all the heroic background check anyone should require.Doubting my common sense actually makes sense. Doubting my courage, or loyalty is idiotic in too many ways to count. As for revealing the hallowed and revered enigmatic occult appellations of my House, " I started."Get him!" Tiger Lily showed some faux-outrage."Shit!" I cried out as Delilah, Tiger Lily and the rest of the SD swarmed me. Pamela and Miyako were of no help whatsoever. I could not express my joy more at the resulting physical abuse and humiliation aimed my way. I was tickled. Yes, my Kick-Ass, full-blood, natural born killers pinned me down and tickled me until I nearly peed on myself.In a very short period of time, we'd shared some really nerve-racking moments. Dad dying, my showdown with Hayden, being mugged by Carrig and the rest of the crap that rained down blow after blow once I came out of my coma. They had taken me numerous times to the hospital and had to sit back helplessly while I suffered. Yet, I refused to be repressed by circumstance.I fought for our people, OUR people now, both with the Earth  and  Sky in shared counsel and the Seven Pillars on the battlefield. Rachel hadn't given me word-one of a reprimand for leaving Charlotte to raise the alarm while I rushed into danger. I was an Amazon in her eyes. Charlotte could fix the phone. Miyako and I could not. The bridge had to be secured immediately.We couldn't wait on Charlotte. I didn't even act as if what I did was all that brave. Rachel knew me far better now; she wouldn't make that mistake. Had I been able to fix the phone, I would have stayed and sent Charlotte. Had the whole team been there and Rachel told me to stay, I would have stayed while they ran into the fight.No. The situation hadn't allowed that, so I had killed a number of men and been wounded. The backside of my right thigh had merely been grazed (which my normally mangled left side found to be grossly unfair.) That was another scar to add to my 'sexy'. I had fought in my own insane manner and was alive solely because Saku had decided to shoot another man instead of me.Even after I knew who she was, I had allied with her and charged the rear of the enemy troop convoy. In the after-battle analysis, they weren't sure how many Seven Pillar Special Forces I had killed, both in the gulch and when I annihilated the back section of the attack column, and took my impromptu flying lesson.Credit for destroying the bridge jacks, thus making the BBQ a carnal cookout featuring Chinese 'Long-Pig', was still hanging out there as well. Rachel and company were still pissed with me despite all that. Why? On a purely personal level, they realized they would miss me if I got myself killed. They were not supposed to feel that way about their protectee.I certainly wasn't their first protective detail, though they were starting to believe I'd be their last. No, I had done everything right, by going into harm's way, and they were furious with the universe for placing us in that situation. Since the universe wasn't offering itself up to be punished, it fell on me to soak up their pique.Delilah was simply picking on me because she could get away with it this time."You are all embarrassments," Saku remarked bitterly once my screams began breathless pleas for mercy. "The Host has fallen a great way since my day." What a killjoy. I finally got my breath back."And the Queen on the floor of the Royal chambers, pushing around toy chariots with her two eldest sons and a child-playmate, was the height of decorum."Well, if looks could kill, I would have never made my nineteenth birthday, so Saku's glare was just another walk in the park."That was a personal moment with my family. It was a very private moment," she sizzled."My Mother's line is, it is what it is. My Father was murdered. My Father's sister and I were never close. These people are my family and my choice of kin.""English," Pamela chided us."Having no family to call your own, you welcome so many that 'family' has no meaning," Saku angrily mocked my words.There was a hushed moment then everyone but the three other Squirts and Saku started laughing. The three kids didn't know me either."By what metric do you measure family by?" I snickered."On his third day on the job, Fehér mén (Aya's pet name for me, White Stallion in the Magyar tongue, it is complicated) threw his body over my sisters and me to protect us," Aya said."He spared my foster-sister when she gravely insulted him," Mona volunteered. "He didn't know me. The Amazon, Constanza, would have died by anyone else's hand, except his. You may look down your nose at his mercy. As you do so, consider that it is his mercy that allows you to feel that way about him, and us right now." Whoa,"I have never seen him fight out of pride, or take joy in any combat," Rachel stared down Saku. "My only fear is that Cáel will get himself killed saving my life, or the life of any member of my team. He knows it is wrong. He knows I will be absolutely furious with him, and he accepts that. He is like no other Amazon I have ever known.We have limits. We follow orders. At our best, we put the welfare of the Host over our own survival. Not Ishara, Wakko Ishara. He follows the dictates of his house and those are to seek mercy and peace where appropriate. He is like no Amazon I have ever known, and I have zero doubt that he is one of the best Amazons I will ever know," she finished with a chuckle."I'm speaking my mind, aren't I?" she asked me."Afraid so, sorry about that," I apologized for corrupting her social skills."Saku, your mistake is that you confuse his caring about you and caring about your opinion of him," Pamela finished things up."Sakuniyas, I will work to honor my pledge to you. I will try to keep you alive because you can be a powerful ally of the Host, but also because it is the right thing to do," I enlightened her. "That doesn't make you all that special though. Personally I think you are a horrible, bitter bitch and lousy company for any non-masochist.I'm going to help you in the same way I'm going to help everyone else here. This is despite me feeling confident that not a single Amazon on this planet has a living father. They've never had brothers because their mothers murdered them. Your crappy attitude doesn't influence me one way, or the other. You are a horrible fucking person born to a horrible fucking race, my race, the Amazon Host.""You kill your fathers and sons," Delilah mumbled as she looked from face to face, finding not a single bit of denial, or shame. "I thought that was so much Greek bull's buttocks.""Nope," Aya shrugged. "Before I left for camp, Momma told me they put Daddy, my other Daddy, down when I was two." Kind of like Old Yeller, or Benji. "His name was Paul Twelve."Delilah looked at me with downright worrisome eyes."Yeah, I figured that out on day two on-the- job," I relayed to her. "For the past 2500 years, every male child of the Host has been tossed off a cliff to his death, or left out in the wilds for predators to devour. Every male they have kidnapped has been under a death sentence from the moment of capture.They tried to genetically breed their captive male population with Amazon females, but something went wrong. The males began passing on genetic defects that poisoned the race. In response, they have begun recruiting men, such as myself, and exterminating their old male breeding populace.Initially, I didn't run because I was sure they would hunt me down and kill me. Later, later I came to like enough of the Host to decide that knowing what was going on meant I couldn't let it slide. I couldn't leave this issue for someone else to tackle. I know I'm facing long odds, yet I'll never succeed if I don't try," I wrapped up my little my 'Cáel's Amazon Primer' lecture."Okay, okay, Cáel you are blood nuts, and hellishly brave. The rest of you are just hellish, killing your own kin as infants or if they get too old," Delilah sputtered. "That's plain wrong.""I had sons," Saku stated. "They grew into fine, strong warriors. My daughters married into the nobility.""Delilah, we don't expect you to understand our culture. Twice in our people's history, men have tried to eliminate our society, stealing our homes and property, and enslaving our children and sisters. We let down our guard once, and that nearly destroyed us, except we now have Cáel and a better understanding of what happened that second time," Tiger Lily educated Delilah."It turned out that not all males betrayed us. No, when we needed them the most, they sacrificed themselves for the welfare of our people and we repaid that loyalty with anger and barbarism. That is a burden we have carried all these centuries without understanding it. Only within the past month has the real truth about the Second Betrayal become known.Many of us are now re-evaluating the dictates of our faith concerning men and sons. After all, Cael is the descendent of Amazons of a First House, dating back to the Trojan Wars. He has been welcomed by his ancestors and his goddess, Dot Ishara," she completed."What is it with the Dot, Wakko and, ""Everyone buckle up," the pilot announced over the intercom. "We are on our final approach." Saku and the Squirts had her armor in some kind of order, we buckled up and let the plane coast on down to earth."Delilah and Cáel, since our 'vacation' was cut short, we haven't been able to bring your personal effects back from Africa yet," Rachel told us."Also, there will be four of Javiera's people meeting us in the hangar," she added. "We have been told to view them as non-hostiles.""Oh joy," Pamela muttered then, "There is nothing to worry about folks.""What? Me worry?" I goofy grinned her way.(Governments, horrendous enemies and ruthlessly evil friends)Four SUVs waited for us in the wide-open hangar. No sooner had the pilot given us the 'green light', than Rachel released the door/stairs mechanism and Charlotte began her decent. We had the camp FN P-90's, not the older Havenstone UMP 40's, so that was the weapon whose sights she was looking down as her eyes scanned the room. Five people. Four SUVs.Rachel went next with me right behind her. My SD's precautions turned our guests from a rather annoyed-casual to alert-angry. Standing with our two standard Mercedes GL550's was Wiesława of House Živa. A sole guardian indicated to me that an ass-kicking was in the offing elsewhere. The Golden Mare, Saint Marie was gathering the Havenstone Security Detail for some purpose, which meant she could only spare one more warrior for me.I was fine with that. Not only did I feel bad about denying her the four ladies I had, I knew we were going into this global conflict outnumbered and out-financed. The Seven Pillars had gotten at least one blow in by striking at the Amazon summer camp. I had every reason to believe other unexpected attacks had occurred all across the globe.In the closest black Tahoe SUV (didn't anyone use sedans anymore?) were two men in modestly tailored, off-the-rack suits. One with buzz-cut gray-white hair, was closer to fifty than forty, was as tall as me (a bit over six feet) and close to my weight and build. That guy was pissed off.His partner was smaller (5ft 10in.) and lighter. He was also cocky with that 'I know more than you schmucks' air about him. Beside the farther SUV, a Range Rover (black, of course, I swore in that moment that if I ever got to have my own fleet of House Ishara SUV's, I was going with baby blue, just to fuck with people's heads), were two other men, one cultured and the other a bad-ass.

A Time WarpBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.What follows is a diversion from the central storyline, but it is crucial to understanding why certain members of the supporting cast are behaving the way they are.808 BCE near Halab in what is today's Northern Syria:For me, Cael Nyilas, it was a return to last night's horrifying scene that engulfed me. The screams of dying horses and moribund men crying the pantheon of life's final regrets. Blood, piss, voided bowels and the stench of comingled sweat and leather filled my nostrils. The true cacophony of battle was all about. The battle shock faded into an innocuous background distraction.In my heart of hearts, I felt at ease, even content. We were cut off and surrounded yet hardly hopeless. Men, my brothers-in-arms and the younger noble sons of Assur and Nineveh combined to put a press of shields, armor and flesh encircling us. Those 'pampered' aristocrats stank with fear and well they should. Death was still possible before their relief arrived.I hurt, Shara (my deity?), I was wounded, but it meant nothing. I laughed; a primitive version of 'atheists and foxholes' passing through my mind. This body had lived through much worse. The closest man, her deceased husband's cousin, and I lifted the shattered wooden chariot off the person our circle was centered on. My arm was extended to her.She was glorious, fierce and half-drunk with battle lust. I could feel her talon-like fingers through the leather and 'parzillu' scales guarding my bicep. She half jumped and was half pulled to her feet. Her kinsman presented her 'misplaced' sword, hilt first. In her eyes, I saw the burning intensity of the Shamash (Sun God, consort of Aya?) at the height of the Burning Season.Her martial mirth exceeded any other noise as it passed her lips."You took your time getting here," Shammuramat taunted me, not a true reproach. "I was so bored, I decide to take a nap in the shade of my conveniently overturned chariot." She defied all fortunes that conspired toward her demise; her own breed of madness."You looked so peaceful in your sleep, I didn't want to wake you," I bantered back. Her 'kinsman' scowled at my familiarity with his monarch. My champions, more like brothers to me than any kin born of my blood, had carved a gory swath to her stranded bodyguard. Mounted on Median steeds, we had pressed back the entourages of two Aramean kings bent on her violent passing.A barricade of overturned, or unattended chariots gave us space to dismount and perform our very visible rescue mission. All the pieces were right where she wanted them; everything unfolding according to her plan. Focus the enemy in the center with her person and the banner of Assur while the rest of her chariots and all of her cavalry swept through an unguarded wadi and fell upon them from behind.Brilliant. Somewhat less brilliant when faced with the desperate energy of our enemies, but her victory was already a certainty. The allied Western Kings were sure my command was attempting to snatch the Queen back to the safety of her infantry. Those hardy, foot-bound souls were still holding their own against the greater mass of the enemy footmen.The children of rebellious nobles bent every bit of their remaining energy, squandered their last reserves to ensure Shammuramat didn't escape. If the positons were reversed, they would have eagerly abandoned their troops and sought safety to the rear. The idea of Shammuramat being overwrought with terror was absurd.Our opponents' bellows for our blood turned into wails of despair. The charging, plumaged steeds of Assyria had appeared behind them. Our enemies had nothing left to slow the new arrivals down, much less stop them. For those who dared defy Shammuramat, Queen of all the Akkadians, the slaughter was just beginning."Come 'Alal' (that was me); I promised 'Atarshumki' I would kick his head over his own city walls before sunset and I always keep my promises," she shoved one of my horse-holders aside and took one of my steeds. 'Alal' was not the name my father gave me. It meant destroyer and it was blasphemy to lay claim to it."Killing kings will cost you extra," was my impious response.Assyrians nobility barely tolerated mercenaries most of the time. My men and I didn't care. I hadn't taken up the killing business to make friends and my troops felt the same way. What mattered to us was that their coin was good and delivered on time. That was a good thing because whores and merchants were loath to advance 'our kind' anything on credit."I'll meet you half way," she grinned manically at me while my fighters and I raced for our mounts. (Saving the junior nobility wasn't what she were paying us for.) "I'll let you take any prince you capture as a hostage." I nodded. My men cheered hungrily, despite the choking dust. As long as I didn't get too greedy, the Kings would pay for their sons. Now we had to capture the bastards."Tūbātu," I reminded them. 'Goodwill'. It was a polite way of saying 'stop your chariot, rest your arms and your mother won't have to come begging for your corpse'. It was best to let opposing nobility keep their dignity in our business. Today's enemy might be tomorrow's paymaster.I blinked and things changed.Planting followed harvest and harvest followed planting. It had long ago become a blur. Shammuramat had grown older. Her first son became king when he was of age. I had long exceeded my welcome and my desire to stay. I was fixed to this small patch of the greater world by a rare emotion, empathy.It had come out of nowhere. We were campaigning against the Scythians raiding over the Zagros Mountains and followed them into Urartu. Night had fallen and I walked the camp as was my habit; being killed a few times in your sleep will make you err on the side of caution. Shammuramat was gazing out over the river Arkas."I though all the scouts have returned," I asked as I stepped to her side. A cool, early autumn breeze blew down the valley, tossing a few loose locks of her greying hair. She always had one patch shorn short which made her left-side braids prone to unwind."They have. We head back for Nineveh with the dawn," she murmured, her mind elsewhere."Do you ever dream of home?" she asked me out of the blue."No. I don't dream anymore. I rarely sleep and if I did, I would hope to dream of something less boring," I snorted in amusement. She had never talked about her home, to anyone as far as I knew."You will be going to Lydia when winter comes," she stated tensely."King Gyges needs someone with experience beating Cimmerians," I answered. The true reason was that I was no longer welcome on the Assyrian payroll because I insisted on recruiting only non-Assyrians into the ranks of my ferociously effective little band of one hundred; never more and rarely less."Shemtsu is a fool," she grumbled."That is unfair," I countered. My willingness to argue with her was one of my charms in her eyes. "He is an excellent Treasurer and he makes sure your vassals pay their tribute on time and in its full amount."The silence was hurtful to me because Shammuramat was never one to obfuscate her thoughts, especially around me. It was one of her charms, to my way of thinking."Salmu Eretu, the northern night sky has no answers for what ails you. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to start out cold before it bakes us." I called her 'Black Cloud' in Akkadian.I had first used that name twenty years ago to insult her, highlighting her tempestuous nature. In the Assyrian court, having just received recognition for my quick thinking, Shammuramat had belittled my accomplishment, throwing my body between her, her unborn child (the man who was now not-so-gently ushering me to the border) and a Kassite noble and his retainer bent on killing them both.Had my deed not been witnessed by half a dozen reliable sources, I wouldn't even have received that tawdry token."He sought glory without risk," she spat out her insult in a Hittite tongue alien to this court. Unfortunately for us both, I had worked for a Babylonian family for a few generations and they had been kind enough to turn me from an illiterate commoner to a man of some education.Ironically, they even taught me my native cuneiform long after my birthplace was barely a memory."Well aren't you a black cloud on an otherwise waste of a day," I replied somewhat bitterly. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and then I heard her laugh for the first time."Should I tell them what you said?" she mocked me and my predicament."But of course," I grunted in Akkadian. I'd screwed up. My inner thoughts were 'please not decapitation, please not decapitation' because getting my head on straight after that was a real bitch."You've been nothing but a black cloud bent on turning the choking dust at my feet into a grasping, muddy morass. Why stop now?" I announced loudly. If you are going to die, die well. Having died too many times to count, remembering my last words were all I had left to look forward to.The guards, familiar with the Queen's temper and stunned into inaction by me clearly embracing a long, messy death, stood around uselessly. Had I been allowed a weapon in the royal presence, I might have thought which one to kill first."I gift you, a lowborn man of the South (Sumerian), with honors and you respond by insulting my wife?" King, Shamshi Adad V growled as he rose from his throne."Husband," she stood to join him. I thought it was a pity she rarely smiled. "You asked that I too give a gift to my savior and the savior of our son (all unborn babies were sons back then until roughly half had the audacity to gender switch while exiting the womb). I have chosen." I was expecting my life for the moment and a day's head start to the border."It is your choice to make," the King allowed."From this day, until my passing, this man may always speak his mind in our lands," she demanded. She had a habit of fatally correcting anyone who saw her as less than co-ruler. The hesitation was deafening."As you will," Shamshi Adad V acquiesced to yet another of his wife's odd 'requests'. From that day forth we had been fast friends. She never asked about my immortality, where I was from, or how I ended up with my elite band of professional killers. I returned the favor. It was an unspoken understanding that in a few years, or decades, she would die and I would leave, not necessarily in that order. We had shared more years than I had given to any one person in quite some time."There is nothing left for me but ash," she declared with morbid certainty."Should any of us expect any better?" I did my best to offer words of comfort she would accept."Oh no," her noise was too bitter to be a laugh. "I had my own 'Life beyond Death' and it was stolen from me, along with my birthright.""We are chasing the thieves?" I asked."Yes and no," her face grew grim once more. "These were not the ones I was looking for. They share some bonds with some of the Scythian tribes who live on the far side of the Sea of Death (the Black Sea). These raiders weren't from those tribes.""Why are you turning back?" I questioned. "You know your Assyrians are loyal. They will follow wherever you lead. Your son won't begrudge you these few hundred. I'll come too.""Why?" she turned and looked into my eyes. She still had that blazing fire in her eyes. She was teasing me. If she asked, I too would follow and my men would follow me."The Scythians have been raiding the Lands of the Two Rivers from, well, before I graduated from 'spear for hire' to a 'seeker of a mastery of war'. The rich plunder of their camps will provide plenty of incentive for my men plus we can sell the horses when we come back," I stated."I do not have the years left to spend on such a campaign," she sighed. I had never heard a hint of defeat in her speech before. It was unsettling and rather tragic."I have squandered my years in marriage, being Queen and raising my boys. I tried to make Assyria my new family and I am revealed to be a fool. You had it right. We will always be outlanders. No matter how brave, loyal, just and smart, we would never be allowed in their sanctimonious circle," she said. "You. I should have ridden off with you after my first born was acknowledged (the present King Adad-nirari the 3rd).""We could have gathered up some more fighters, ridden over shattered Phrygia, to the narrows (Bosporus) and into the lands of the Thracians. There is a legend of a great river that pours out from the western shore of the Death Sea. What I seek is up that river.""How many would we face?" I grew equally serious."One," she coughed. "Me." My confusion was obvious. "I am not asking you to fight me, Alal. I want you to come back for me.""I can't. That is not how it works," I stated."How does it work then?" she looked into my eyes. The fire was there, but banked and waning. I didn't say anything. "I have never seen, or heard of you entering a temple.""Your men go. You do not stop them, but you have given up any pretense of worship," she pressed. "Do you not believe that anything exists beyond your senses?""I believe," I sighed. "I believe people are fools for giving offering, pledging their fidelity, pleading for mercy, or extending thanks to any deity. Those Shar-an (gnats) do as they will, unless it is to punish us for treating them like the spoiled children they are."Shammuramat regained her long-stilled laughter."I have always felt a kinship with you through our mutual bitterness.""Bitterness comes with familiarity," I snorted in amusement. Lovers had passion. We shared a simmering anger that came from being irredeemably wronged."I was born Baraqu, the first son of a potter in some city that no longer matters. I was a failure as a potter and an embarrassment to my house and my clan," I began a story I hadn't told another soul in, I couldn't recall. "In those days, the Priest-Kings declared wars and demanded each clan of the city give forth a certain number of males to fight. My family volunteered me and two rowdy cousins.Outside the gates, my clan elder gave each of us a cowhide shield and a spear with a small spindle of copper at the tip so we wouldn't think it was a staff. We marched, I forget which city we were fighting that time. Three days later we found the enemy behind a deep irrigation ditch that had dried out for the season. Our orders were simple, 'There they are. Attack!'My elder was at the back of our mob, making sure none of us ran away. My older cousin made it across the ditch first, but was speared twice; once in the right kidney, I can still remember my first sight of blood, and once, piercing the shield and lodging in his ribcage. My second cousin and I were pushed from behind into the fighting. I stabbed at one shield, doing no harm.Then my surviving cousin's morale broke and he tried to claw his way back into our ranks. He was stabbed in the back, his dying body tangling with mine and bearing us both to the ground. I saw this howling mad face over me. He was a commoner, like me, driven to violence by the terror of battle. His shoddily crafted spear plunged first into my right lung. The second stab found my heart. I died.From there, my spirit fell down toward the wretched dank caverns where all pitiful lowborn dregs are doomed to end up without hope of parole. Instead of endless misery, the Goddess Sarrat Irkalli appeared before me, barring my descent. With icy claws, she trisected my soul. I cannot begin to describe that agony. She snatched up my tattered bits and dragged me back into the world.Sarrat Irkalli is Goddess of the Netherworld, whispered a word that penetrated my brain through the left ear of my cooling corpse. It was an utterance so catastrophic to the fabric of the Veil I dare not repeat it even now.Baraqu? she blew a dark wind upon the first bit of my essence and it flew away.Cael, she whispered to the second portion and off it went in another direction. You are Baraqu no more. The second name was meaningless to me at the time but my name. Do you know that if you have your true name, your spirit can not find its way to your reward, no matter how foul, or pleasing? To the third part of my soul. I name you Alal, he who stands witness to the end of all he desires; their destroyer. Powerful yet powerless.}With that, she left me. My body was stiff from being dead so long. The next few hours were extremely painful. The Sun had set and the Moon was not in evidence. Jackals barked and hyenas laughed as they fought and feasted on the dead. I pushed the body of my cousin off me then crawled down into the ditch to hide. Hardly the reaction of a hero.""Not the actions of the man I know," Shammuramat smirked. "So, your name is Baraqu.""Was and I never much liked the name," I countered. "The priests gave it to me because right before my naming ceremony, a bolt of lightning from a spring storm struck the temple of Shara. So they named me Baraqu, which means 'struck by lightning'.""That sound likes a good name," the Queen Dowager regarded me."That is the noble meaning. The common meaning is less eloquent, it means 'idiot'."Another deep laugh from my treasured compatriot. So few had ever mattered so much to me."Struck by lightning, stricken dumb," she guffawed. "Still not the 'you' I know.""What does the other name mean?""I have no idea. In all my travels I have never found a people familiar with it," I shrugged. She looked out over the low waves lapping against the stony shore."No explanation?" she grudgingly inquired. She had wanted me to continue."No. I have never again come face to face with Sarrat Irkalli, been visited by a messenger, divine, or demonic, received an omen, or any otherworldly presence of any kind," I shrugged. I was long past any resentment. "After the battle I made my way back home, we'd lost, and resumed my life for a few years. My father took the excuse of me 'letting' my kinsmen die to place my younger brother over me.I didn't care. I always hated being a potter, so I ended up being a piddling nuisance all the time and a drunken brawler whenever I had wrangled some beer. I was always the first choice of my clan to send into battle. Despite my lack of training, I began surviving more battles than I died in. At some point, the priests began getting suspicious that I was still hanging around my great-grandnephew's house, so my house Elder suggested I leave the city.I was given a nice copper-headed mace that I had taken in a recent skirmish. Tradition dictated I offer it to the Elder, so he could give it back to me as a sign of my value to the clan. He had taken it for his own. Now he was giving it back out of fear that it held some part of my taint. I had no idea how to live on my own. Two days out, I was robbed and murdered for the first, but not last, time. That inaugural event, I got really angry and hunted those two farmers down.I got my mace back. I also relieved them of an onager, three slaves and a few ingots of silver. I guessed they had been rather successful robbers until they met me."

Summer Camp Mayhem.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.The miracle is not a person jumping into a torrent to save another. It is the dozen who form a chain to pull them both out.(Midnight in the Grotto of Good and Evil)We were in one of the underground pools at the bottom of the mesa. Our tour guide had informed us there were nine known caves and the complex had never been fully explored due to the remaining waterways being totally submerged. It was well past midnight, all my little friends had crashed out and I had wisely ditched my security after Miyako silently woke me up with her hand over my mouth.She pulled my hand to her lips and sucked deeply on two of my digits. I took this to be an indicator to me she was in dire need of loving. The grotto was my idea. I was inspired by my desire to see her naked and I couldn't risk a light source any place but underground. The tool shed and garage lacked a certain appeal. The fuel depot and septic tank were also ruled out."Is the chaos in your mind still raging, Cáel?" Miyako asked in Nipponese, with enough worry to doubly enhance her cuteness."Which of the twenty-seven unexplained languages rolling around in my head do you want me to answer you in?" my toothy grin barely visible in the darkness.Around half way through my sexual enlightenment in college, I had a revelation. The two guys I had gone road-tripping with took me to a bar in Portsmouth. I caught a woman looking us over. I already had my one-night stand lined up and she was looking most agreeable to my nefarious skullduggery (i.e. she had come with some other guy who preferred beer and darts with his buddies over keeping his attention on what mattered).And then my awakening."Nah, she's too fat," he remarked. For one thing, my friend who said that could have stood to lose ten to fifteen kilograms himself. Next, we were dressed like middle class college kids, jeans, shirts that were most likely clean when we picked them out of the laundry basket, light jackets and the shoe thing.This girl was dressed up for a good night out. Nice makeup, her clothing choices were, eh, not stunning, but this wasn't a stunning nightclub/bar. She looked fun, she smiled and yes, she was overweight. It dawned on me that not only did I not care, I never cared. I was a sexual omnivore and that meant any lady interested in sex with me was fine in my book.So, I turned the tables on him."If you can score her number, I'll give you my watch," I dared him. The wristwatch was really nice, one of those $500 handmade German ones. One of my Ex's great-granddad had swiped it off some Nazi pilot in World War II, and the same girl gave it to me twice. See, by accident, as I was exiting the (thankfully) first floor window of the Natural Sciences building, she threw a pitcher at me.It had been sitting in an ornamental display case close by. I caught it, nodded to the flabbergasted female professor-type gawking at the semi-naked me, handed her the projectile, then fled like the responsibility-dodging coward that I was. It turned out that that bit of crockery was from the mid-1600's; the woman I'd surprised was the item's owner.That older lady wasn't a teacher. She was a major benefactor in charge of one of the school's larger endowments. Had it shattered, the Ex most likely would have been expelled. Instead, after watching me round the Chancellor's residence, the mature chick turned to the totally naked chick leaning out the window, still screaming at me."Is he on the track team?" she inquired as she handed the artifact back. They talked, agreed I was a miserable human being, a cad and had firmly developed buttocks. Well, I guess that makes me a pig with nice hams. The next day, I showed up to return the watch, it was just an excuse for one more round of sex.She explained the whole incident to me, took back the watch and sent me on my way. I hurried back to my dorm room, changed the sheets and picked up a bit. An hour later she was quietly knocking at my door. Rather epic make-up sex followed, she gave me the watch as a keepsake and I swore off intercourse in classrooms for two whole months. I'm a tower of resolute willpower, I know.Back at the bar, my buddy snorted, made some comment about her being obviously desperate and promised me he'd nail in her in one of the back rooms. They talked a little, he got 'friendly', then said something that really hurt the girl's feelings. She looked our way, steadied herself with a shot of bourbon and came over to me and my other bud."Did you tell that guy you would give him fifty bucks if I put a lipstick ring on his cock?" she confronted us."No, I told him you were too good for him and if he could get your phone number, I would give him this watch," I showed her the watch. The girl's face flashed back to 'cautiously curious'."Is it a nice watch?" she asked."It is a family heirloom. My great-grandpa brought it back from World War II after taking it off some high ranking kraut officer," I embellished. "I knew he didn't have a chance with you.""Thanks," she grinned. "I agree. Let me get my sister and we can get a bite to eat." Sex.Two guesses of who her sister was. If you guessed the girl I had been cultivating since I got there, you would be right. I am too damn lucky. Lads, the next time you blow a sure thing, blame me for sucking all the good karma away from you, and nine of your friends. I got a three-way. The guy I made the challenge to, got his revenge. He bailed and I had to hitchhike back to school. You know, female truckers, oh, back to Miyako.After stashing our clothing and weapons (all of mine anyway), I took a small fluorescent lantern and slipped into the water. Cold, but doable. Miyako joined me and then, by moonlight, we swam to the point where the guide had said we'd find a passage to a secluded grotto. Down we went. My motivation wasn't sex.That was coming no matter what. Seeing my Nipponese sweetie completely nude directed my course of action. Security protocols meant no lights after 11 p.m. My solution was to cut on a light that couldn't be seen from outside, the grotto. We felt our way along the rather wide submerged passage emerging well before air became an issue. I raised the lantern and cut it on.Our tour guru had forgotten to mention that the algae patches along the sides and bottom as well as the quartz veins on the roof and walls reflected the light over what must have been an eight by ten meter cavern. Gorgeous. We glided to a shelf that met our needs, climbed up and shared a high school 'nervous virgin' moment. She broke the spell by pulling herself out of the water and, standing on her tippy-toes, touched one of the roof veins.I drank in every inch of my little ninja babe's lithe, finely tuned body. Once she got over the newness of my voyeurism, she became playful, giving me a variety of silhouettes and poses. I stripped and returned the favor, which earned me a giggling fit. As I took a minute to sit down and stare into the tranquility of the still surface, she snuck up on me.She said it all with her eyes. I tried to speak, but she put a forefinger to my lips. 'Hold me forever,' her eyes relayed her intentions. 'Love me for all eternity and think of no one else but me.' My elbows were locked, supporting my upper torso as she hovered over my lap. She was a lone feather falling upon the unyielding stone.With one hand behind her, she guided my cock into the wet, luxurious vice that was her cunt. We took it in increments. A sigh more at home in whispered Nirvana than on mortal tongues escaped her lips as she nestled all the way down. We didn't fuck. We rocked back and forth in a timid motion.As Miyako became accustomed to me once more, she would lean farther back with each pulse until an in and out rhythm was achieved. I took the occasion of her victory to pluck her left nipple into my mouth. Experience had taught me that was her more sensitive one. For several seconds, she fought it before knowledge caught up with instinct, then she loosed her passion.After her vibrations subsided, she rested her body tightly against mine. I still impaled her and she was returning a fraction of that warmth."Do you ever think you will find true love?" she whispered into my ear, in Nipponese. I was drawing my finger through her damp hair as it trailed down her back."As in love one over all others, no," I confided. "Even if I did, I could never admit it.""Why not?" she asked in Mandarin.In French I explained; "My life is a mad race through the forest and I don't know if I am a hound or the stag. I don't dare slow down until I know, and that is no way to repay such devotion.""When do you think the race will end for you?" she moaned softly, in English."I would really like to hold a child of mine. I don't regret my life's path up until now, yet I leave so very little of me behind if it ends soon," I muttered in Nipponese, and then chuckled. "It used to be at the first sign of a pregnancy test, I would panic. The World turns very rapidly."A minute passed as she went from warm to heatedly sensuous."Less talk, more babies," she sacrificed her emotions for my well-being with her oh so naught Baby Metal band voice and questing fingers. How could I say 'no' to that?"I don't think it works that way," I teased."Let's find out." She implored me in NipponeseSometime later, I was lying on my back, Miyako's body extended over mine so that not one precious inch of her touched the cool slick rock surface. Considering our position and location, it took me a bit longer to notice the intruder. I thought she was all kinds of strange. Twin memories and perception joined forces for once.The woman moved through the water, yet she was only hip deep in a place I knew the bottom was three meters below. As she entered our isolated love nest, I noticed she had sent forth not a single ripple in the water. Memory filled in the rest. Her eyes, when her gaze met my own, had that void that comes from a tortured life punctuated by horrors you witness as well as ones you are forced to perform.That was from "me". The electron swarm inside my mind provided another crucial piece of the puzzle. Utukku, phantoms, dead denied entrance to the Nether Realms, trapped between, until some sin had been lifted. The spirit gave me a look of shock, then turned and fled."We are in danger," I hissed to Miyako in Nipponese, before cutting off the lantern.I dove in, angling for the tunnel we'd entered by. I was close enough not to jab my fingers into the stone surface as I clawed my way through. I didn't burst noisily to the surface on the other side. My approach was that of an alligator, slowly letting my head crest the surface so I could look around. No one was in evidence. Miyako was soundless at my side as we scramble to the hiding place of our gear.Miyako held my hand back until she was sure our belongings hadn't been booby-trapped. I had to make quick judgment call: how time critical was this? I went the 'clothes and weapons' route."What is going on?" Miyako spoke quietly."Back there, I saw a feminine Asian ghost and the last time I witnessed such a pained, hopeless look, I was confronting the Seven Pillars," I told her. "Their slave had that same doomed stare.""There are only two things here of value," Miyako made her assessment. "You and the children. You are far more accessible in New York City, so it must be the children." We pressed ourselves tightly to the cave sides when we heard the sound of footsteps coming our way. It was Charlotte, my minder for evening, with her bow notched and ready.Firearms were kept to a minimum after hours, so bows were the order of the day, except for the snipers on the mesa top. My movements must have alerted her. I sat down and continued dressing."Charlotte, the Seven Pillars know we are here, they know the camp is here," I told her."How imminent is the threat?" Charlotte knelt beside me. I didn't know."They must be close, to be making a reconnaissance of the caves," Miyako said with tactical certainty."It was drawn to you, Charlotte, you were out of place, so this thing looked further. Otherwise these caves are irrelevant," she added. Miyako had the mindset of a seasoned professional spy."The cavern and spring have a night guardian," Charlotte countered. "I saw her when I was following you two here."I had on my light bulletproof vest (no shirt), shorts (no underwear) and shoes (no sox)."Let's go check on her to see if she's seen anything," I suggested/ordered.What I had assumed was some sort of bedroll brought by Miyako turned out to be a Ninja Survival pack. This allowed me to weapon up while she dressed up. The amount of time we were taking still ate at my nerves. Charlotte stopped me from heading out first, only to be stopped by Miyako. The ninja slipped out like a cool desert breeze.(Friend, Enemies and those In Between)Thirty seconds later, a plastic BB bounced off my right shoulder. This time, I was leading Charlotte out. No one spoke. We couldn't see Miyako anyway, now dressed in her black pajamas and her face being reduced to just one slit for her eyes. We found the Amazon dead at her post. She was in a cunningly crafted blind not easily spotted from any direction.A quick sweep for 'gifts' left behind revealed nothing, but the corpse yielded plenty. She was shot multiple times with two separate flash and sound suppressed submachine guns. The woman had been alive when we came down and if there had been a firefight, Charlotte would have heard the shots, if not seen them; thus the suppression. The bullet holes suggested a small caliber weapon.Miyako stepped up, held up three fingers. Every piece of the Amazon's gear was still on her. The attackers had shot up her phone box. Wireless communications were deemed too risky so all the outposts had buried land lines. At this point, a few seconds of extra effort stood between the Seven Pillars and success; that and the Goddess Paranoia.Had the assailants yanked up the box and cut the phone line, it would have been rendered useless. Instead, they shot up the device and moved on so that when Charlotte pulled out the cache of concealed goodies, including the spare phone box, we were back in business. As Charlotte got to work switching out the busted for the back-up, I studied our situation.Advanced teams taking out the perimeter guards, and most likely the snipers, didn't make much sense. The camp had 300 highly motivated Amazons. Cutting them off temporarily from their armory and vehicles didn't make any sense, since all Amazons were armed anyway. That left timing. But timing meant nothing if I didn't have the goal of their attack.It came as a double-whammy. The Chinese place a high premium on family and the Seven Pillars had mastered a sadistic art form of turning young foreign women into their concubine/assassins. The Condotteiri would have slaughtered the entire camp. The Seven Pillars would want to kidnap the children, both as current bargaining chips and as future tools.500 girls, 400 could be kidnappable. The oldest would go down fighting with their sisters. How did you get 400 kids out of here? Helicopters? That would be a fuck load of helicopters taking out their team and the children. Besides, helicopters alone couldn't dig them out of their cave and cliff-face strongpoints.Desert, no waterways. That left the road. You couldn't use ATVs, not enough carrying capacity. The smart move would be to have tractor-trailers parked alongside the hard top state road. They would use smaller, more rugged trucks to ferry their captives out to the semis. That suggested some sort of 'cover/support' vehicles.2 half ton trucks with weaponized Hummers providing fire support a la 'Blackhawk Down' and that meant the bridge and the BBQ pit. That objective would solve both of the Seven Pillars problems, moving the main assault group into close contact with the Amazons so the Amazons couldn't organize a defense, and removing their hostages in a prompt manner so they all could be gone before anyone else could react.The Seven Pillars had to have secured the bridge and were mostly likely replacing the missing piers. It was the choke point of their battle plan. Worse for them, it wasn't part of a barricade where they could attrition the Amazon numbers with vehicle mounted heavy weapons. The ditch ran north-south, bow shaped with the arch to the west and was over a kilometer from the camp.The flanks were purposefully strewn with huge boulders that limited traffic to horse and motorcycles, no four-wheelers. They had to have control of the bridge, so that's where I went."Charlotte, I'm going to the bridge," I whispered before slipping out of the blind. I didn't order Miyako to follow me and I was sure Charlotte wanted strangle me for departing from her protective custody.There are four kinds of fights, be they between armies, or individuals. Set-piece (sparring), assaults, ambushes and meeting engagements. I was about to be in the latter one. Meeting engagements happen when opposing forces are set on goals that unknowingly intersect one another. One of the most famous battles in US history, Gettysburg, was a meeting engagement.I was using the bone-dry culvert because we feared the Seven Pillars had replaced our snipers. Miyako was, somewhere else. The enemy commandos used the same conduit to avoid having the remaining Amazon pickets spot them and raising the alarm. I had little doubt that the three men speedily moving south were heading for the grotto and its three inhabitants (Charlotte, Miyako and me).Not knowing that I could both see ghosts and guessed who its demonic masters were, they assumed we were still in the caverns. Me not knowing how this whole ghost-scout thing worked, I assumed that I had a chance of surprising them at the bridge if I moved fast enough. In a final prick of irony, they misinterpreted the role their snipers played in our engagement.They believed that their snipers would alert them if anyone moved on the bridge, ignoring the fact that the snipers didn't have a complete view of the gulch. I was only using the big ditch because I was afraid they had taken out the Amazon snipers and now had the high ground, which turned out to be true. Thank you, Goddess Paranoia.My first tomahawk was in my left hand and my Glock-22 was in my right. My fear of snipers and the bend in the gully saved my life. We literally ran into each other, me and the first 7P soldier. His long barreled Type-05 was pointing past my left, his torso slammed into my pistol, ramming his front armored plate against it as it discharged.The proximity muffled the sound of the gunshot. The bullet failed to punch through his impressive body armor, but the resulting force knocked him down and out. Unfortunately, our shared momentum knocked my gun out of my grasp. My right hand went for tomahawk two. The flattened man's team mates swung their submachine guns my way.Halfway through his shift, a black dart flew out of the western darkness, past the first one, then snapped back. The action caused the hardy thread to wrap around the barrel of his weapon. I couldn't see her, but I knew it was Miyako with her flying wedge with the thread attached. The middle guy was startled and not moving as his training dictated.That allowed me to use him as a shield against the third guy. Right as 7P #2 decided to release his weapon, I kicked him hard into the confused man behind him. Neither man went down, but I still got what I wanted.Guy number three's main weapon was trapped to his right as I rushed his left. Vainly he tried to get an arm up to defend himself. My right tomahawk shattered his forearm at the elbow joint. Only the body armor on the inside of the blow stopped the appendage from falling off. My rational mind was catching up with my instincts.These men had on head-to-toe ballistic body suits with knee guards and solid ballistic inserts for the front and back of the torso. They had on some sort of dull, dark-grey respirator mask which was why the armless guy wasn't screaming his head off. They also had matte black circular ear protections and a type of high tech visor on the ears and eyes respectively.The sole survivor was falling back, drawing his silenced pistol while trying to put some distance between us and find Miyako at the same time. Dummy, tomahawks are designed for throwing. A bit of Amazons indignation was behind that toss. His visor was cut in two as my anger drove the blade 6 cm/2+ inches into his skull.I heard a sharp crack of a rock being shattered. Miyako's graceful flip landed her at my side. I ran to the last victim, put my foot on his chest and put my right hand on the tomahawk's shaft. The guy reached up and grabbed the thigh of the foot on his chest with both hands. Shit, the fucker wasn't dead!

Cáel' as the new Amazon Teen IdolBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels."I've missed you too," Aya bumped foreheads with me. I was 'a Son of the White Stallion' who 'ran with the herds of Epona'. I was so proud of her. She had woven together a Magyar myth with an Amazon naming convention. Epona, the Celtic Horse Goddess and Aya's matron divinity, was worshiped with the sacrifice of foals, Amazons offered up fillies (female baby horsies) whose spirits ran with the Goddess in the Spirit World.When the pre-Christian Magyars went to war, they sacrificed a white stallion to entreat their deities to grant them victory. No one was about to slit my throat, or cut my heart out. I was made sacred, a spirit stud in Epona's vast herd of mares. How freakishly accurate."I love you for your brains, you know that, don't you?" I whispered to Aya."Yes. You are saving up your other love for Mommy," she kinda/sorta teased me. Out of the semi-circle of children, three stood out. More accurately, they were dwarfed by their companions. I took the group's indecision as an offer to advance."Hi," I addressed the smallest three members of the audience. "Are you the Fatal Squirts?""They are not allowed that name," Sophia interceded. "No Amazon child deserves an acknowledgement before their trial." I half-turned and nodded her way."(Cough, cough). "Excuse me, please." If she spoke Phoenician, I was boned for being obviously disrespectful of her authority and would have to take whatever punishment Sophia felt I deserved.Otherwise, I was getting away with binding 'leads to death' to 'blood-death wound' in that ancient and highly extinct tongue: 'fatal, squirts' indeed. Her hand fell on my shoulder."I have heard you laugh at death," Sophia remarked. If I was on Zoosk, all you would have to do was type in 'Preference: Amazon Male Who Dares Talk Back', and there was my smiling mug, all alone, staring back at you."Before I confess to anything, do you consider that an asset, or liability," I grinned."I withhold judgment," was her reply."I don't mean to 'laugh at death'. It is because all the other choices suck and, perhaps I've been called stubborn, bull-headed and 'not having even a passing acquaintance with common sense' a time, or two," I shrugged with my lovely burden curled around my left arm."No names, our tradition and my command," Sophia laid down the law. Sigh. I put Aya down. She didn't cause me a hint of trouble because she knew my heart. I unbuckled and handed her my two guns (my Glock-22, and 38). I motioned one of the mini-Amazons forward. She shuffled up to Aya's side and received my two tomahawks.Not only was no one leaving, the rest of the camp started coming down to see what was about to transpire. In my short stint at Havenstone, I had developed a reputation as an exciting fun-guy/irrepressible troublemaker."I feel your decision is founded on misinformation, or your rendering to be unjust," I told Sophia."Explain," Sophia requested.I hadn't disarmed for my sake, or hers. I gave up my weapons to affirm my desire to talk. I placed myself at my sister's mercy, thus expressing my trust in her. Amazons are not savages, just violently inclined.Later, Pamela would remind me that my behavior was precisely what Isharans were supposed to do, seek peace."Aya has taken a position as intern with Executive Services at Havenstone," I explained. "She held my position and served effectively for four days with good work reviews from the head of the department herself," I added."She has served in a caste, been assigned duties by members of that caste, performed errands and accomplished all that was asked of her. Doesn't that create an allowance for Aya, as she has been considered for a caste?" I was fishing for an excuse based on my instincts for these people."She has never been selected, chosen and been anointed to a caste, so her preliminary experience does not qualify," Sophia said after a few seconds of introspection. "Next?""She has charged forth into battle on my behest." The archery range."You were not an acknowledged member of the Host when that happened. Next?""She's tried to kill me," I tossed out there."What?" many exclaimed."No!" Aya gasped."When did this occur?" Sophia's eyes twinkled."At the archery range. She shot at me twice," I responded."She was practicing," was the counter. "Next?""Not next," I smiled. "I didn't have permission from anyone to step beyond the shooting line.In doing so, I accepted all calls to combat. Both Leona and Aya shot at me. Aya shot twice and came close once. Leona only hit me after I gave myself up to protect three Amazon children."Pause."Okay. Aya has served in combat, no matter how one-sided, " Sophia began."I was armed for part of the fight," I interrupted hurriedly. Aya's first arrow."Accepted. You were a viable combatant before that as witnessed by other Amazons in earlier encounters. She and another Amazon shot at you without any other claiming traditional ownership of you," Sophia nodded. The Leader had given me a 'bye' on my intern status."Aya may bear an honorific," Sophia loudly proclaimed her change in course. To Amazons, screwing up was a distant third to not owning up to what you did and not learning from your mistakes. Besides, I could tell Sophia was warming up to me, as a male and an Amazon."My war band?" Aya chirped."You do not have a war band, Aya Epona, but whatever name you use among yourselves is not a matter I will concern myself with," Sophia stated firmly. "Fifty days, Cáel." That was the end of it. Sophia turned and began walking uphill, conflict successfully resolved.The Fatal Squirts had emerged with a semi-official status, I had emerged without a new series of wounds and I had wrangled forth a small down payment for all the love and loyalty Aya had showered on me."Best Daddy in the World!" Aya shouted. "Mamitu! Mamitu!" Destiny.Amazons weren't huge believers in luck. They put their faith in training, planning, experience and diligence. For them, victory was a matter of destiny. Let the sloppy, treacherous Greeks invoke 'Nike', Victory, or 'Tyche', Luck for tossing them a positive outcome in battle. My side weren't thankful for the win they deserved.They acknowledged Mamitu had, through foresight, prepared the Host for what had to be done. For Aya, it was destiny that had put me in her path; she and her sisters trained for the hostage scenario multiple times, so she was a logical choice for my training. She had been training with the bow when I was giving her the inner strength and confidence to hit the target.Training, not mutual good fortune, put her at the range to make that shot. Whatever part luck played, that bolt that had saved my life and paved the way for Aya's rise to leadership had been a part of her training as well. Amazons didn't deny luck, nor did the put any trust in it."Hi, so who are the rest of you?" I addressed the Fatal Squirts while rearming."I am Mosa Oya," the tomahawk holder identified herself."I am, " the third member got out before we were propelled back into that 'never too distant' No-Man's Land. A girl, a stranger in her early teens, came up and shoved Aya hard."You are nothing special," the older girl growled at my buddy. My 'daughter' barely avoided sprawling in the dust.The intensity was palatable. Aya had no chance of beating this girl. Not only did her opponent have every physical advantage, she had three buddies as well, correction: two buddies and a twin sister. Amazons built lifetime bonds around these foursomes. Aya and company backed down, despite her obvious shame. She had just won an honorific as a child, unheard of before this. It was Amazon tactical thinking, not fear, that ruled Aya's mind. I was so proud of her."What's your name?" I inquired congenially of the newcomer. She flashed me a look of anger laced with teenage hormones, then turned and stormed away, actually, she only started to storm away. Her behavior had played right into my hands. I was an adult. She wasn't a full-fledged member of the Host, nor was she a child anymore. I had asked her a question and she had been disrespectful to me. Her bad. Still, I doubted anyone expected my leg sweep.The bully hit the ground hard, no rolling with the blow for her. My foot smashing down on her diaphragm drove the fight right out of her. I wasn't done. The twin rushed in, my thunderbolt left sent her flying back from whence she came. Amazons despise child abuse as cruel and socially cancerous, yet no one else was rushing in to stop me.Even her other two friends were obeying both basic Amazon battle philosophy and conduct. Two young teens versus me was stupid, and I wasn't alone. I had four Squirts plus two other women close by who saw nothing wrong with a cooperative pummeling. I lifted my foot a centimeter from the girl's chest."Let's try this again," I spoke softly. "I am Cáel Ishara. You have disparaged my house by putting your back to me after I, an adult, politely addressed you. In fifteen seconds your sin will pass beyond your ability to address and your actions will be viewed as your family's unwarranted insult. My sisters will seek vengeance against your sisters with the added advantage that your sisters won't know what's going on. Now, what's your name?"See, I could have gone straight to Step Two, the House on House vengeance. Me kicking her ass was merciful because after five, or six members of her house were jumped, one at a time by three, or four, of mine, those ladies were going to be truly curious why their youngster had been so fucking rude in front of so many fucking Amazons to the HEAD of a fucking First House.'Honorific' Aya still had no status except that of a child. Dumb Bunny was passed her 12th year test, so she was of her House, thus the insult. Despite my 'fantasy' assumption of the role of grunt, everyone knew that Cáel Cabbage-head was Cáel Ishara, Head of House Ishara. I was the only accepted male Amazon in existence, the only possessor of a 'five o'clock shadow' in camp, I was armed and I was so armed while walking among their children.She could not have possibly mistaken me for another. Her eyes showed that truism too. Her wrathful 'how dare that male!' morphed into 'oh fuck, my older sisters are going to be tossed down stairwells, jacked up in parking garages and they were going to be caught totally flat-footed when it happens, and it is all my (the girl's) fault'.In theory, Saint Marie could deny my feud (we were at war), or warn the girl's house of my request, but why would she? The crime couldn't have been more obvious and the Amazons were way past making harmful shit up about me."Zarana, Zarana of House Inara," she gasped.I switched foot placement, pivoted, reached down to arm-clasp my left with her left and ended with me pulling her effortlessly to a standing position."A pleasure to meet you Zarana Inara. I am Cáel Ishara, but you may call me Cáel if you wish," I gave her my award winning smile. "No one will ever doubt your courage in my presence," I added.'Lead with the left jab, then catch them with the right hook'. As true in interpersonal relationships as in boxing. I had beaten her handily seconds ago and now I was applauding her bravery. Again, I wasn't a Head of House calling attention to her virtue, but I was."Your sister shares your warrior's heart.""I, I, I don't know what came over me, " she started to give me a respectful head-nod. I hooked a finger under her chin to stop her."Are you going to reconsider your approach for dealing with a male Amazon, Zarana of Inara?" I bridged the awkward moment. Bing! I had turned a humiliation into a learning moment."Yes," she smiled at me. "Yes Cáel Ish, Cáel.""I swear by the All-Mighty, if I find this one crawling into your sleeping bag, I'm going to be very disappointed in you," Delilah ambushed me. Wa-ha?"Oh, come on!" I protested. "She's thirteen.""Fourteen," the other twin, bleeding lip and all, puffed herself up."Not helping, " I looked at the twin."Vaski," she supplied. What?"Vaski? Really? That was Grandmother's name, it is Magyar-Finnish," I wondered."We are almost related," she conjured the improbable out of the impossible."No you are not, young lady," Delilah serpentined her way to the front of the crowd. "You are not family now and you can't attempt to be for four more years.""Who would you be?" Zarana challenged Delilah. Man, those two kids were spunky."An honored guest," Priya provided. "I hope another lesson in manners will not be necessary.""I'll do my best," I volunteered. Priya had been addressing the twins; not me. Taking the hit was a bit of comedy to diffuse the moment."Some of you need to eat," a camp counselor stated. Another crisis down and the sky wasn't even dark yet."Cáel!" and here we went again. Thank you, Ishara, it was Europa, the strange one, meaning the one I understood the most.(Night and Day)This place kept getting more and more wonderful. There was one safe road that rolled out of the camp's front gate (there was no wall, the gate was ceremonial) and disappeared off toward the closest state road. Scheduled trips were made to the closest blip on the census data where they bought stuff (irrelevant) and were 'seen' by the locals (the important thing).If anyone investigated, there was a legitimate summer camp 'out there'. The counselors weren't friendly, but they worked with 'troubled' kids, so keeping the small talk to a minimum was excusable. Sure, they only saw women, usually the same ones each trip during a given summer. The camp held nearly a thousand people, so the all-female thing was dismissed as a quirk.That was the second layer of deception. We had already learned that the first layer was the idea of a camp for girls in the foster care system. The third layer was all the visible 'props'. This went beyond the typical craft centers, juvenile obstacle courses, and a dozen other distractions. (The only 'real' one was the stables. Amazons loved riding horses and being assigned to tend to their care was a high honor.)Thirty meters inside the gate was a bridged gulch. After dark, the bridge supports were removed turning a clear shot into the center of camp into a waiting death trap. If there was any doubt, the gulch, so comforting and protective, was a blast zone as well, designation: The Barbecue Pit. I couldn't find it, but I was sure there was an altar somewhere to the matron goddess for this summer camp, the Goddess Paranoia.The sleeping quarters for everyone? More props. Campers would go in, mill around for ten minutes, then curl up on their bed, the ones that warmed up to 98 degrees in the shape of human bodies. Then the campers went down the shafts beneath their bunks and dutifully shuffled along the one meter high underground tunnels to their mesa-based domiciles. Again, once in the cliff-side barracks, they had two chimneys, a tunnel back to the dorm building and a cleverly designed, nearly invisible front exit to choose from.Pamela took it in stride, Delilah was a bit peeved by the 'excessive' security. Virginia, we'd already dragged her through her dorm tunnel to her cave to sleep it off. For me, the tunnel's dimensions made it a tight fit. Amazons can be pretty strong, but they don't have shoulders as wide as mine, nor are they normally over a meter/eight (six feet for us Yankees).I would have complained, except I had a sneaking suspicion that Pamela had a trowel to give me so I could 'widen up' a twenty to forty meter stretch of tunnel the moment I opened my mouth. As the last portion of the instructional tour, we were directed to get our grub before it was gone because the sadistic chefs loved to watch the eight year old workhouse orphans fight over who got to lick the pot instead of starving.Not really. The victuals were actually very good. I had hopes of more bonding time with my Epona ladies, yet no sooner had I cleaned my tin plate and dinnerware, I found someone else who craved my attention, Sophia. She was hot for my touch and by that I meant she wanted to punch and kick me around for a bit, all in the name of fun."Since you are my guest, I will let you choose our weapons," Sophia decided."I choose hyperbole," I gracefully flowed from sitting with one leg down and the other bent to standing."Specify.""Caber tossing with real Sequoia. I'll wait for the ladies of Girl Scout Troop 666 to go get some, they have to be authentic; no substitutes accepted," I explained."That's not hyperbole," Sophia snorted. "Hyperbole would be, 'I want to use the biggest spears ever used by Amazons, or Goddesses'.""My hyperbole wasn't the caber tossing, it was us 'waiting' for a set of circumstances we both knew wouldn't happen," I countered. Sophia nodded.

On the Road to Aya.Cael becomes the Amazon's Unorthodox Global DiplomatBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.For me, the diplomacy revolved around Delilah and Virginia, I had already fallen on my knees and begged Odette to let me go see Aya 'alone'. A few sexual-charged hours later, she agreed. That left four choices for the role of my two agents. They wanted to go 'as is'. Rachel informed them they would be murdered in-flight and their bodies tossed out over a convenient body of water.Rachel felt that the only reasonable course of action was for them to not come. That way the two could live a few more weeks. However, she would settle for stripping them down, doing a full body scan and then sealing them naked in airtight coffins (with a suitable amount of oxygen) for the journey. I suspected they might still slip out the baggage compartment somewhere between takeoff and landing.I cut through the clash of egos and made the final decision. Delilah and Virginia would be stripped and thoroughly examined. Initially I had the chore. Rachel was deeply suspicious of my true intentions. Freed of any electronic devices and with their weaponry in my keeping during the trip, they would be blindfolded as we made it to Aya without bloodshed.They applauded my wisdom by roundly refusing my decision. Pamela was of no help. Ten minutes into it, I informed them I was going alone, completely alone. They laughed, snorted and chuckled. Rachel reminded me that I didn't know where to go. I lied and told her that Katrina had given me the coordinates for the super-secret juvenile, all-feline [yes, I meant cats], survival training school.Fine, they would just keep me under constant surveillance. I responded by assuring them that despite my lack of spy-like abilities, I would escape and get to relive my Summer Camp experience with the only woman who respected my Demigod-like combat status. Their laughter hurt my feelings. Pamela stepped up and told the room they could either respect my compromise, or she would help me evade them.It was even more depressing to see the room full of women who had previously been mocking me suddenly 'snap to' and quickly agree to my earlier suggestions."It is okay," Pamela told me softly as the actual mechanics of my vacation were figured out by others. "I didn't want to play Bill Munny to your Ben Logan."Pamela's eyes flared brighter than any phoenix's rebirth. She'd stumped me."The Unforgiven, my Son," she patted my cheek. "It is a western made in 1992 starring Clint Eastwood, recast masterfully by 'Yours Truly' and, we need to work on you making a convincing Morgan Freeman.""Doesn't Freeman end up in a pinewood box in the first third of the movie?" Virginia mused."I didn't want to dishearten him," Pamela grinned. To me. "He ran off alone and got himself killed.""I was what, not even a year old when that movie came out," I responded with indignation."You've never heard of Block Busters, Netflix, Redbox, Dish, Hulu, or late night, Spanish language television?" Pamela snickered."I only watch Univision for their sports coverage," I countered."You mean for those sexy female sports announcers," Delilah chuckled. That earned her a 'well duh' look from all the other women."Before I consent to the strip search and inevitable follow-up anal probe, are we really going to be in a situation that requires us to fight this time?" Virginia asked."We should be perfectly safe," Rachel responded."Check, bring extra ammo," Virginia nodded."Good for you, Ms. Maddox," Pamela winked. "One day there is hope your life will have some meaning to me.""Great," Special Agent Maddox muttered, "now I have to think of what to get her for Christmas." We all laughed. Christmas was such a long way away.We packed up, rode to a private airfield near Doebridge, learned that SD was smarter than the rest of us, boarded our flight, and then finally entered US airspace from there. Around Ohio, a thought occurred to Maddox."If we were somehow forced to land and have the plane searched, how bad would it be?" she requested of Rachel."Bad enough that we have a better chance of fighting our way free than seeing freedom before dying in prison," Rachel answered calmly."Hmm, Rachel, if something like that happened, how many parachutes do we have?" Delilah joined in."Enough. Mona rides down with Cael because he's a virgin," Rachel stated."Oh! Come on Rachel," I fell down on my knees. "Can't I bungee jump it?""Luv," Delilah snorted. "If the drop didn't kill ya, the bounce back would snap you in two.""Cáel, we are at thirty thousand feet," Tiger Lily giggled. "You are more likely to end as a streamer than a pancake." An Amazon giggle, a most joyous noise."Rachel, I have been unkind," Virginia confessed. "Cáel is so personable and so dead set on getting himself killed. I had no idea your assignment was so herculean.""Acknowledged," Rachel said, "and we don't use 'that' word." Hercules was Greek too."We have it worse," Delilah patted Maddox on her shoulder. "We must obey some sort of legal code that doesn't allow us to preemptively save him.""We must too," Rachel gave a depressive sigh. "Her," she pointed at Pamela."Hey," Pamela pouted. "I'm more a force for vigilante justice than a team player. I ride alone.""Alone?" I took a quick headcount and added our Amazon pilot. "I count ten, Lone Phaser.""Am I included in that count?" Miyako yawned from under her blanket. "This jet lag is killing me.""Where did she come from?" Virginia hopped up."She was here when we boarded," I told her. "I searched her, I swear.""Yes he did," Miyako gave a sleepy, Hello Kitty smile. She'd 'searched' me too."I bet you did," Rachel glared at me, then Pamela, then me again since I was the titular boss.Thankfully we all 'bought a vowel', played a card in Clue, and shared an Inspector Clouseau moment. The gang settled down for a nap. Sleeping was not complicated. Rachel, as my bodyguard, slept beside me. The airplane's touchdown was so flawless I had to be shaken to alertness. Did I fall asleep? More on that later.It would have been better if Virginia hadn't figured out our pilot had violated numerous FAA regulations, like dropping below radar at one remote airport then sailing along for an unknown number of kilometers at nape of the Earth until we reached our final destination (This is great in date flicks, btw. It convinces the girl that we should 'live in the moment'/screw as much as possible.)We weren't there yet, of course. That level of un-convoluted thinking would have been an Amazon indicator of senility. Being a male Amazon, I was immune to such considerations, that meant I was always nuts in their regard, but they chose to humor me. Our plane had to park in a camouflaged hangar before we were allowed to disembark.I concluded we must be getting close to our desert gulag/re-education center as the sharp glare of sunlight was accompanied by an equally heartless glare of hostility rolling forth from our waiting all-terrain vehicle caravan. Thank goodness Rachel had the foresight to bring sunscreen for the passel of us. I swallowed the bitter realization I'd lost a $1000 bet concerning our landing zone with Virginia (a Temperate Rainforest) and Delilah (the American Southwest). In retrospect, betting on the site of 'Camp Rock' wasn't my smartest wager.The Brit made off with $2000 of our money and she wanted to be paid in Euros. That's €778 from me, you offspring of those who didn't have the courage to cross the Atlantic 100 years ago. Neither Virginia nor I really cared. With the level of violence about to escalate, it was all looking like 'funny' money to us. I didn't share my misery. Our Welcome Wagon ladies hardly looked sympathetic, or all that opposed to utilizing scalping as a valid debating tool.They didn't view this moment as just a bad thing, me showing up. My arrival was apocalyptic: #1, a man. #2, with a member of another secret society. #3, #2 was a professional assassin. #4 and #5, two more outsider women. #6, an unscheduled visit, as in 'the camp guardians hadn't been given six months to plan out all contingencies'. And you think your daycare takes its security seriously?"Cáel Ishara," the curt, mega-harsh bitch addressed me in English. As the other seven women dismounted from the four Jeep Wranglers (Delilah enlightened us), it was obvious they were well armed and armored, right and ready to provide some extra-curricular para-military fun. "Welcome," and 'oh please tear out one or two of my fingernails you Ginormous Pain in my ass' she greeted the exalted me. We spoke in Hittite;"I am”, then I used a phrase which I hoped meant 'I had shed blood in battle with sister Aya'. "No other name means more to me right now." Ah, the lovely jerk that full-blooded Amazons gave the first time they heard a male speak their tongue. The slot machine of her intellect kicked into high gear. No arm grasp was coming my way. I almost forgot."The outsiders are to remain armed as guests of House Ishara." That command was crucial. When/if I got my way with my first request, I was going to be rendered 'one of the girls'."If that is your wish. (Evil grin) Grab your bags and make it snappy," the woman ordered. "I don't like any extended activity at this airfield.""Ladies, let's hurry up and get our bags," Pamela barked in English. "You too, you hairless ape." That would be me, if there was any question. The Super-friendly camp counselors, with their slung FN P90's, didn't lift a finger to help us. Miyako flounced around without a care in the world. Pamela, eh, there were only eight of them. Three of my SD group were cautious while the pilot was already effecting her refueling and departure.Rachel shot one of the guardians a look I perceived to be friendly. A double-take elucidated things. She was Rachel's younger sister and had already been updated on my bona fides. Then in Hittite;"Male, you are agreeable to the eye," Rachel's sister fired off. Three whole seconds."Why thank you. I run faster than you would think, thankfully heal even faster and have the venerated outdoor skills of Bigfoot," I smiled.The seven other ladies weren't sure what to make of that jocularity."A very, very young Bigfoot," Rachel corrected."There is nothing wrong with the size of his feet," Tiger Lily added to the fun. And then all the homicidal fanatics chuckled.Pamela's whispered translation brought a subdued, yet similar reaction from the non-Amazon contingent. Sure, the new group knew about the New Directive, my fun encounters which I equated to my life and death struggle in those earlier days, my rise to house leadership, Constanza's blinding, the grenade launcher episode and the totality of my last confrontation with Hayden. Amazons are some hard-ass bitches.As we were loading up the jeeps, the leader tapped me on the shoulder with some force, in the same way a teacher catches an unruly student's attention."What was sex with an augur like? My name is Caprica Mielikki.""Out of respect for your authority, I will answer this personal question that is really none of your business," I looked down a good ten centimeters at her. No fear."It was beautiful, like every other woman I have had the treasured pleasure to have sex with," I continued. My reply's undercurrent was simple: I am not a House Head while I'm here. I am an Amazon, not a slave, or outsider male."Did you suffer stigmata?""Yes. To be fair, I was also having intercourse with her personal guardian at the same time. I'm not sure where to lay the blame, or importance," I inhaled her rugged fragrance."Both?" a different camp counselor questioned."As I told you, he has a really big and craftily-wielded foot," Tiger Lily teased, then Pamela said in Hittite;"And he is banned from having sex with any Amazon women for fifty more days," Pamela reminded them. Miyako, Delilah and Maddox weren't involved so were left uninformed of that detail. That bludgeoning innuendo dealt with, off to camp we went. Our journey was a pleasant diversion, punctuated by our trail, or lack thereof.The jeeps split up once we hit the aerial cover of the desert pines. At that point, every rock, shrub, tree and loose bit of debris revealed its God-given mission in life was to kill us. I kept telling myself that surely our Amazon driver abhorred suicide as much as I frowned on vehicular manslaughter as a means of me dying.Failing to believe that left me with tuck, duck and roll and that death-defying move would leave me lost and waterless, somewhere. I would have thought 'somewhere without cell reception', but none of our mobile devices had made the trip, despite a valiant effort at skullduggery by Special Agent Maddox and some highly creative types back at the Hoover Building.See, after we dutifully packed all our gear, the troupe got to watch Rachel's team toss everything into a cargo bin set to be loaded onto a flight to, the ticket said Banjul, Gambia. Woot! My ten ton armored long coat was going to Africa without me. It would have undoubtedly have tried to kill me in this heat. I was lured into acceptance by hoping this was going to be a 'birthday suit' flight.Yay! (Sarcasm) We got all new undies, shirts, shoes, pants, shorts, jackets, ponchos (I was beginning to suspect duplicity on that one), and a variety of other gear, including guns. They were nice enough to replace our weapons with the exact same production models. The sole exceptions were my trusty axes and I trembled at the scrutiny they must have endured.Meanwhile, back to my archaic, misogynistic inspiration that women shouldn't be allowed to drive: after the third skirting of what must have been a ten meter drop, I realized I was looking at this journey in the wrong light. I raised my hands over my head and began screaming like a fool. I was on the best rollercoaster ride ever!!The hobnail boot was on the other foot. My driver really wanted to know what the fuck I was up to, but couldn't take her concentration off the terrain. One massive lurch planted us in an arroyo (that's a dry riverbed for those of us who aren't freaked out every time it rains). Rachel and I were sitting in the back. Turning around in the front seat, Pamela grinned at me."I dare you to surf the hood," she laughed. Sweet Mother Ishara, that was the best mixing of 'you must be a redneck'/'immortal high schooler madness' I'd ever heard. I unbuckled milliseconds before Rachel could stop me. Her look said it all. 'Please, you Moron, don't do this to me. I've been a good little guardian and really don't deserve this, now do I?'I gave her a deep French kiss. She moaned, just not in a sexual manner. One of these days Rachel was going to start running around with a needle and fast acting sedative to keep me safe from myself. Understand, my driver was racing down this dirt, well, "pathway" was being generous. Her first warning that something wasn't right was me hand-standing on the roll bar and flipping onto the dashboard.Considering I was up against a 70 kilometer headwind, I felt I pulled off that maneuver rather well. She grabbed my closest ankle with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. Our eyes were masked with goggles, but my smile said it all. No, I hadn't been thrown forward, and no, I wasn't running away from something in the back seat.I shook free, stepped over the windshield, braced my right heel against its base and leaned into the torrent of air. I was surfing a jeep. Then I was flying above the jeep, but only for a second. We'd hit a rock the size of an armadillo, or maybe it was an actual armadillo. I wasn't looking back to check. Why was I doing this? It was a tad complex. I gave Psych 101 a shot.My life was not where I had envisioned it would be when I kissed Dr. Kimberly Geisler, and my last two Bolingbrook girlfriends, who had been unaware of each other until that moment, good-bye before leaving college forever. I proudly considered myself amoral. No social contract would keep me from some good cunt, and since I found all cunt to be good if you worked at it, I slept with every girl I could, married, committed, bored, desperate, I didn't care.I held no relationship sacred. I had already proved I could do any girl's mother, daughter, aunt, roommate, childhood friend and total stranger. I hadn't cared. I knew I was going to cause multiple women emotional pain and I did it anyway. Sure, I regretted the agony I left in my wake.I never considered myself a sadist, but I had been a pretty horrible person by ignoring the inevitable consequences of my actions. Then Havenstone. Suddenly people were doing bad stuff to people I didn't know and it mattered to me. I was talking to women without the end goal being a sexual encounter.Hell, I had been honest to women without them using pain, or the threat of pain, on me. I didn't stop being me. I nailed four women at Loraine's, Europa's and Aya's school. I nailed Nicole while waiting for Trent to toss me his social table scraps, Libra. A whole army of women engaged in murder, slavery and infanticide on a regular basis, and I cared for them.I cared for them in a way that confronted damnation, not sexual adventurism. I had graduated from 'Dude, don't do that to the lady' at some bar to 'do this and I'll have you killed' and meaning it, and making it happen. I hadn't learned my lesson. I'd gone on to kill Hayden and Goddess-knows how many other women who Hayden had placed on that list.Yep, dead, dead, dead and it was all on me. Worse, I would do it all over again because deep down, tearing up my insides, was morality. To me that boiled down to caring about someone else without reward. And all that led me to surfing the hood of a jeep on my way to meet my lodestone of this transformation, Aya.My laughter was drowned out by the noises of the engine, tires, rocks, wind and sand. It resonated all the more. The driver didn't slow down. I sincerely doubted she understood my lunacy. That was okay. Pamela did and Aya would. She'd want to go jeep surfing too. Man, for a jackass and dastardly betrayer, I was accumulating a sizable heart-load of people I could honestly say I loved.Kimberly had once told me that the pain of knowledge is never being able to forget it. Good, or bad, it is an affliction for which there is no cure. That was where I was, pained by the creeping advancement of my soul and unable to turn back now that the door to familial affection had been opened.My thoughts of Dad dying and of a thunderstorm burst in my noggin weren't being terribly helpful to my mental state either. The horn blew and I snuck a quick peek back. The driver was making a sharp, forward jabbing motion with her right hand, then thrusting to the left. We were getting ready to exit the arroyo and that probably required some hellish footwork far beyond my ability.I made a hasty, less dignified, yet safer return to my seat. Rachel quickly buckled me in before a rapid turn up and over the bank of the river bed had us heading for another forested area."What was that all about?" Rachel asked once we were back into the tree cover. She'd have asked earlier but she was too busy clenching and unclenching her jaw in frustration.