Podcasts about Tahoma

This week we dip into the archives to air an interview about a timely topic: the Catholic Services Appeal.Fr. Scott is joined by two distinguished guests to discuss what CSA, the Catholic Services Appeal actually is and why it's important for the work of the Church.https://archive.org/download/LetsTalkCatholic/LTC-150RR-CSA-What-is-it.mp3

On this bonus episode of CASCADE OF HISTORY, we present audio from the Flight 293 monument dedication ceremony at Tahoma National Cemetery from June 3, 2023. Flight 293 was a military chartered Northwest Airlines DC-7C that disappeared in the Gulf of Alaska on a flight from McChord Air Force Base near Tacoma, Washington to Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage, Alaska. There were 101 souls aboard. There remains future chapters to the Flight 293 story yet to be told, including the path of the Flight 293 Remembrance Act - bipartisan federal legislation introduced by Democratic Senator Patty Murray of Washington and Republican Senator Dan Sullivan of Alaska in February 2025 - and new interviews and new research shedding more light on the missing DC-7C and those left behind. Going forward, those chapters will be shared here on CASCADE OF HISTORY. CASCADE OF HISTORY is broadcast LIVE most Sunday nights at 8pm Pacific Standard Time via SPACE 101.1 FM and gallantly streams via space101fm.org. The radio station is located at historic Magnuson Park - formerly Sand Point Naval Air Station - on the shores of Lake Washington in Seattle. Subscribe to the CASCADE OF HISTORY podcast via most podcast platforms.

In an age where local journalism is struggling to survive, Lake Tahoe is fortunate to have Julie Brown Davis, a West Shore native and staff writer for SFGATE who exclusively covers Lake Tahoe. As the daughter of ski bums who moved to Tahoe in the 1970s, Julie grew up skiing Homewood and Alpine Meadows, worked her first journalism gig at the Sierra Sun and eventually became managing editor of Powder Magazine. After a handful of years as a freelancer, Julie has returned to her journalism roots as a staff reporter, and she isn't afraid to take on the big, controversial stories. On Episode 62 the boys chat with Julie about stories including infamous bears, the crush of tourists amidst the changing face of Tahoe, the role of TRPA, the negative effects of the season ski pass from mega resorts, recent federal staffing cuts and the potential impacts it will have on Tahoe tourism, the effect AI has on journalism and why corn is the new pow. 2:15 – Happy Mother's Day!8:00 – Introducing Julie Brown Davis – professional journalist who works as the SFGATE Tahoe editor.13:00 – Trail Whisperer and his former life as a freelance writer for Chevron.14:20 – What kind of gasoline should you put in your vehicle?19:00 - The problem with bears in Lake Tahoe and all the bear stories Julie has reported on.29:20 – Julie's youth growing up on the West Shore of Lake Tahoe in Tahoma.35:42 – Julie's path to getting into writing as a profession and her first job at the Sierra Sun and Tahoe World, later writing for Moonshine Ink and going to UC Berkeley for graduate school.41:45 – Going from an unpaid intern to managing editor at Powder Magazine and Transworld.46:46 – What print magazines and newspapers do you subscribe to?52:14 – Being a full-time employee for SFGATE as the Lake Tahoe region beat reporter.57:28 – Is there a sustainable future for recreation, traffic control and parking in Lake Tahoe?1:00:20 – Is the cheap season pass from IKON and Vail Resorts good for mountain communities?1:06:55 – What is a better model for digital media – paywall or free content that's ad driven?1:11:15 – Julie's story about the history of Graeagle, California and the West family who owned Vikingsholm in Emerald Bay.1:15:30 – Doing a story about the wolf pack situation in Plumas and Sierra County.1:19:31 – Using Artificial Intelligence (AI) to make reporting quicker and easier, but it isn't developed enough to replace good journalists.1:22:20 – Reporting on federal staffing cuts to the U.S. Forest Service and the negative impact it will have on the summer tourism season in Lake Tahoe.1:28:05 – Road construction, new bridges, new bike paths, tons of traffic and the TRPA transportation plan.1:31:00 – Lightning round questions for Julie.1:16:30 – What does Mind the Track mean to you?

CRAGG Live from May 10th, 2025Lou Reed Pickwick Records Profile Join us for a 2-hour radio special where we dive deep into the roots of a legendary singer Lou Reed. We profile the latest posthumous Lou Reed release: “Why Don't You Smile Now: Lou Reed at Pickwick Records 1964–65”. Discover the early days, the raw recordings, and the sound before the fame.Listen to the show HERE.What is CRAGG Live Anyways?!  The flagship radio show of Cult Radio A-Go-Go!'s, CRAGG Live is a lively 2-3 hour talk radio show hosted by Terry and Tiffany DuFoe LIVE from an old abandoned Drive-In Movie theater with Wicked Kitty, Fritz, Imhotep and Hermey the studio cats and CRAGG The Gargoyle. We play retro pop culture, Drive-In movie, classic TV and old radio audio along with LIVE on the air celebrity interviews from the world of movies, TV, music, print, internet and a few odd balls thrown in for good measure. We air Saturdays at 5:00 pacific.We air on www.cultradioagogo.com which is a 24/7 free internet radio network of old time radio, music, movie trailers, old nostalgic commercials, snack bar audio, AND much more!  This show is copyright 2025 DuFoe Entertainment and the live interviews contained in this show may not be reproduced, transcribed or posted to a blog, social network or website without written permission from DuFoe Entertainment.

 You are probably familiar with the Via Crucis, or The Way of the Cross, but did you know there is a similar devotion involving stations of the Resurrection? This week, to celebrate the Easter season, we are re-Airing this episode from the archives. Fr. Scott leads us through this devotion. Following the Via Lucis we have another homily from Father from the Easter Octave.https://archive.org/download/LetsTalkCatholic/LTC-115RR-Via-Lucis.mp3

Subscribers! Be sure to go to the blog to read the description easier & check out links for this episode!Treat yourself or a loved one! TokyoTreat makes the perfect gift for any occasion. Use code "NOSTALGIA" for $5 off your first #TokyoTreat box through my link: https://team.tokyotreat.com/theanimenostalgiaThis month's episode is another short ReView! What is a “ReView” episode, you might ask? Well, it's my highly-clever (ok not really) name for episodes where I go back and revisit an older title I haven't seen in a long time, and see if what I remember (and what my opinions on it) are still the same now that some time's gone by. This month, I'm celebrating Animeigo's upcoming release of Osamu Dezaki's 70s beautiful tear-jerker Nobody's Boy Remi with a rewatch (and finally finishing it!) Is the trauma of this "Ruined Childhood" title worth following for over 50 episodes? It's time to find out!Stream the episode above or [Direct Download]Subscribe on apple podcasts | Spotify Relevant links: Order the complete bluray of Nobody's Boy Remi directly from Animeigo, or use my affiliate links for CR Store or Amazon.Stream Nobody's Boy Remi on Retrocrush for free with ads in the USStream Nobody's Boy Remi on TMS' official anime Youtube in Spanish and in French! See how you can get access to behind-the-scenes stuff, early access to the podcast (without ads!), and a BRAND NEW subscriber exclusive podcast with my new Ko-fi Subscriptions! My theme song music was done by Kerobit! You can find more about them on their website! As always, feel free to leave me your thoughts on this episode or ideas for future episodes here—or email me directly at AnimeNostalgiaPodcast@gmail.com. Thanks for listening!

CRAGG Live from April 26th, 2025Will Hutchins Tribute & Singing TV Cowboy SpecialWe air on cultradioagogo.com which is a 24/7 free internet radio network of old-time radio, music, movie trailers, old nostalgic commercials, snack bar audio, AND much more!  Join us for a 3-hour radio tribute to Will "Sugarfoot" Hutchins and classic TV Cowboys (including the singing cowboy variety)! Plus, a special segment from David "Ghosty" Wills in remembrance of his friend Will Hutchins.Listen to the show HERE.What is CRAGG Live Anyways?!  The flagship radio show of Cult Radio A-Go-Go!'s, CRAGG Live is a lively 2-3 hour talk radio show hosted by Terry and Tiffany DuFoe LIVE from an old abandoned Drive-In Movie theater with Wicked Kitty, Fritz, Imhotep and Hermey the studio cats and CRAGG The Gargoyle. We play retro pop culture, Drive-In movie, classic TV and old radio audio along with LIVE on the air celebrity interviews from the world of movies, TV, music, print, internet and a few odd balls thrown in for good measure. We air Saturdays at 5:00 pacific.We air on www.cultradioagogo.com which is a 24/7 free internet radio network of old time radio, music, movie trailers, old nostalgic commercials, snack bar audio, AND much more!  This show is copyright 2025 DuFoe Entertainment and the live interviews contained in this show may not be reproduced, transcribed or posted to a blog, social network or website without written permission from DuFoe Entertainment.

Service at the Bridge on April 20th, 2025. Sermon on John 20:1-23.  For more information on ways to support The Bridge please visit www.thebridgealton.com Services are held every Sunday at 10 AM at 504 E 12th Street in Alton IL.

On April 14, Utah city and state leaders gathered for the groundbreaking on a major, 3-year expansion project at Provo Airport. Provo Airport Director, Brian Torgersen spoke with Utah Noon News host Maria Shilaos about the changes that are coming, why the expansion is needed, and how it will impact those who currently fly in and out of Provo.

Pastor Steven Helfrich's sermon at the Bridge on Genesis 30:25-33:20 taken from the April 6th, 2025 Sunday service. Services are held every Sunday at 10 AM at 504 E 12th Street in Alton, IL. www.thebridgealton.com

CRAGG Live from April 5th, 2025Bobby Sherman Profile / SpecialWe air on cultradioagogo.com which is a 24/7 free internet radio network of old-time radio, music, movie trailers, old nostalgic commercials, snack bar audio, AND much more!  Join us for a 3-hour radio profile on 1960's teen idol and public servant Bobby Sherman! With the recent sad news of Bobby's stage 4 cancer diagnosis, we take three hours to celebrate his career and music, in hopes that our audience's collective conscious will send vibes of love and comfort to Bobby during his illness. Join us in love and celebration as we profile Bobby's music, acting career, TV appearances, film work, and even share special never before broadcast audio of Bobby singing/harmonizing with a fellow LAPD hero in Bobby's home studio, plus candid thoughts on and stories about knowing Bobby. Listen to the show HERE.What is CRAGG Live Anyways?!  The flagship radio show of Cult Radio A-Go-Go!'s, CRAGG Live is a lively 2-3 hour talk radio show hosted by Terry and Tiffany DuFoe LIVE from an old abandoned Drive-In Movie theater with Wicked Kitty, Fritz, Imhotep and Hermey the studio cats and CRAGG The Gargoyle. We play retro pop culture, Drive-In movie, classic TV and old radio audio along with LIVE on the air celebrity interviews from the world of movies, TV, music, print, internet and a few odd balls thrown in for good measure. We air Saturdays at 5:00 pacific.We air on www.cultradioagogo.com which is a 24/7 free internet radio network of old time radio, music, movie trailers, old nostalgic commercials, snack bar audio, AND much more!  This show is copyright 2025 DuFoe Entertainment and the live interviews contained in this show may not be reproduced, transcribed or posted to a blog, social network or website without written permission from DuFoe Entertainment.

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

The last days before the Great Hunt.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“Can the scorpion ever stop being a scorpion? “"Do we get our legally permitted weaponry back?" The bishop still held my hand."Sure. If it makes you feel better.""I would like to meet your people then," he gave my paw one last shake then released me. "Shall we go?""I will have someone take you to your car. I want to briefly meet with the President, of Havenstone, then I'll join you in the garage. We'll drive over to JIKIT and I'll make the introductions. Good enough?""That is acceptable," he nodded."What about you two?" I regarded the nun and the Swiss Super-soldier. The nun remained vigilant, and silent. The Swiss' eyes flickered to his boss before settling back on me."It is what I volunteered for," he stated firmly."Okay. Please never say I didn't give you a chance to take the sane way out. Also, Bishop Nicolö, circumstances have conspired to up my prospective wedding date to January 1st.""That will be more difficult. Why the change?" he remained grim."We are having twins. By March, this will be very visible.""That is, unfortunate," he shook his head."You have no idea," and then a brainstorm. "And I am curious about resurrecting the Order of the Dragon, the Societas Draconistarum." Technically that meant 'Society of the Dragonists' which was more appropriate than the literal Ordo Draconis."Precisely how do you plan to recreate a crusading Christian Order which was the purview of the Hungarian monarchs?" he didn't sound the least skeptical, just curious."I have billions of euros to fund such a thing," I winked. "Of far greater critical importance, I know where I can find the supernatural guidance and spiritual imperative for such an organization.""You are going to produce a dragon?" his eyes grew larger even as he fought down his fear. Good man. He was adaptive. He'd need to be."I never said such a thing. That would make me sound crazy," I smiled broadly. "Besides, when I say 'dragon', you think 'devil' and that's way too pedestrian for where we are going.""I am not a moral relativist.""Neither am I. I'm out to save lives and nurture the drive in the human spirit to reach for freedom, love and liberty. As you might imagine, I'm pretty freaking outnumbered.""I think you are crazy," he re-evaluated things."I just might be. In all honesty, you should back out now. Take your two compadres back to 25 East 39th Street (the Holy See's Permanent Observer Offices to the UN in NYC) and report 'Mission Failure'. You'll most likely live longer," I reasoned."I am not afraid to die," Sister Rafaela Sophia finally voiced an opinion."That's idiotic," I scoffed before the bishop could reprimand her for opening her mouth. "You should be.""My soul is in God's hands," she set her jaw."Does he talk to you?" I countered."His message is clear.""Not what I asked. I asked if he specifically directed you to toss your life fruitlessly away as an object lesson for the reckless, or careless?""This is uncalled for," Nicolö intervened."Nope. I bet you a phone call to my Brother to physically restore your bishopric that there are four people in this room who have murdered in cold blood," I kept eye contact with the nun, "and she's the odd one out. Right Juanita?""Yes, Ishara," Juanita slipped up. Her spycraft, like mine, needed work."You were in the military?" the bishop asked my bodyguard."Was? I am. Right now," she related. "I will be until I die."That earned me looks from the three Catholics."She is loyal," Nicolö nodded slightly toward her, referring to Juanita's declaration."Huh? To me? Nope. She's loyal to my office, which we shan't get into right now. Back to you, Sister Rafaela Sophia. Are you out to be a martyr, or has some saint, or angel, given you a directive the other two seem to be unaware of which causes you to devalue your life?""I am devoted to the One True God, Christ, our Savior," and Juanita snorted, "and the Virgin Mary," the nun stated firmly. "I don't hear voices in my head.""Juanita, that was rude. Apologize to our guest," I kept looking forward."No." Well, fuck you too."Gun," I commanded. I held out my left hand."What? No. I will not give you one of my guns," she resisted."Juanita, give me your primary weapon, or I will ask Pamela to beat you up the moment I depart for the Great Hunt. After yesterday's stunt, you know she will," I threatened. Fair, I was not. She drew a Glock-20 and handed it to me. I went through the routine, dropped the magazine then ejected the round before opening the door.Oh look, there were four SD chicks outside, ready to escort my visitors downstairs. I didn't even need to waste a phone call. It wasn't like the conference room wasn't being monitored."Excuse me," I took a half step out the door then hurled all three items down the hall. Looking back at Juanita. "Go fetch.""Fuck you," she snapped."And insulting her faith was as degrading to both her faith and her as me doing this to you is degrading to you right now," I lectured her. "It is important to her, therefore it is important to me because she is my guest in the same way it is important to me that I let my bodyguard do her job without being a total asshole all the time. Now go get your God-damn weapon," I barked. Off she went. I left the door open."Now Sister Rafaela Sophia, the point of all this is: I don't give a crap if you are willing to die for God. In fact, that makes you less than worthless to me and the team. I want to know if you are willing to put other motherfuckers in the ground so that Bishop Nicolá, or Mathias, might get to keep doing their jobs.""Murder is a sin," she declared."Go home," I sighed while shaking my head."She answers to me, the Church and God, not you, Mr. Nyilas," the bishop stepped forward."Then you can go home too," I shrugged. "I'm not asking for remorseless killers. I'm asking for people willing to kill to get the hard work done and best of all, for people who know the difference.""Everyone on JIKIT is a professional soldier, or killer?" he asked."No, but the ones who aren't don't carry guns and know to get down when things get funky," I bantered."I vouch for her," he insisted. Juanita came running back into the room."Cool beans. I don't know you either.""You apparently know my service history," he volleyed."Yeah. Ten years a foreigner in the service of France, then you went straight into a university which turns out Jesuits," I riposted."What turned your life around?" he evaded. That was okay. I'd gotten what I wanted. I was willing to bet he had read every bit of public information about me and it was rumored the heavy Catholic membership in the FBI had its benefits to the Church as well. Not so much as to give them insight into JIKIT, but,"Someone risked their life for me. It's been pretty much downhill from there," I confessed. It was the truth. After Katrina gave me the life line on Day Two, it had all spiraled to the revelation of my heritage, Dad's death, Summer Camp, the Hamptons, Romania and Aya's kidnapping."A person, a soldier, died saving my life," the bishop empathized. "Her story is similar. She seeks redemption. She is not suicidal. I am staking both our lives on it."Did he mean him and Mathias, or him and me? I wasn't certain. Still, it was good enough for now. I'd gotten a look at their emotional make up, even the relatively quiet Swiss."Very well," I agreed. "I have to go see the President about my new job description. I'll catch up with you at your car." To the SD team leader, "Take them to the garage. I will join the group of you very soon.""Yes Ishara," she nodded. I exited the room, Juanita in tow. Two SD entered. I was gone before the Papal team left. Upstairs we went, with one last chore to discharge. I had to check on Ms. French to be absolutely freaking sure it was Shawnee, because anyone else would spell disaster.{8:30 am, Monday, September 8th. Last day}A Room full of asistants:Well, there it was, the office of the Executive Director to the President, and not 'Executive Assistant', because this was Katrina's final 'fuck you, no, just her final 'fuck you' before the Great Hunt got underway. I shouldn't assume things, dang it!Anyway, according to the gray-haired matron running gatekeeper to the Office of the President, this was where I was supposed to show up. I shot Juanita a worried look. She glanced my way and shrugged, momentarily willing to not give me shit about the past 24 hours because where I was situated would determine how easily she could do her job.In we went. In the suite were three desks, the 'big' desk situated at the far end of the office space and two far more modest ones on either side of the entryway. The room expanded beyond the chokepoint formed by the two closest desks into a cluttered area. The walls were cluttered with inset bookshelves and portraits of women. Facing one another were a loveseat on my left with bookend plush chairs in an 'L' facing and a full sofa on the right. There were end tables at the ends of the sofa and the corners between the loveseat and each chair.As the door opened, I hadn't knock as this was my office, or so it seemed, the occupants, who had all been sitting in quiet conversation in the central section, began reacting. Oh look ~ Constanza! I nearly had a heart attack before I realized there were three other Amazons also in the room. Sadly, none were behind the 'big desk', so I couldn't tell who was in charge. Two of the other three choices weren't too much better. First off,"Ishara," Marilynn Saint John stood to greet me. I'd last seen her when I'd dedicated her grandmother's (Hayden's) spirit to the halls of my ancestors, not hers, after forcing the political crisis leading to Hayden's suicide ~ her taking herself to the cliffs and in doing so, destroying the Amazon Cult of Blood Purity. Marilynne was clearly still bitter with me. Umm, I could still incite passion in women I hadn't slept with, yet, woot?"Cáel," the senior-most and only friendly face in the room spoke next. Thank goodness it was Beyoncé Vincennes, Head of House Hanwasuit and House Ishara ally."Cáel Ishara," the third individual was deferential which I wasn't sure how to take as the last time I'd encountered her, yeah, things hadn't gone well either."Beyoncé," I started off with a smile. From there, I had to figure out, ah, Beyoncé's eyes flickered to Constanza then Sabia. I knew Marilynn, with her young age, had the least seniority, "Constanza, Sabia, Marilynn. How's tricks?"Glum faces by everyone except Beyoncé. I didn't ask about Sabia's particular well-being. It had been months since I'd beaten her into the mats of the Full-blooded gym. She'd attacked Yasmin, the Brazilian Hottie and my Brazilian Jujutsu sparring buddy, and I'd retaliated by ambushed her when she turned her back on us. Besides, she'd been giving me shit before I even could see straight.Constanza was minus her left eye because of her dire insult to me. If she wasn't capable of working, she wouldn't be here. If she appreciated my 'mercy' in sparing her life ~ her insult was worthy of her death ~ Constanza hid it well. I hadn't spared her expecting a change of heart. I hadn't felt words alone warranted anyone's death. I was a big boy and could take a few insults. House Ishara, as represented by me, could care less. These days, my sisters would be less understanding despite them knowing my heart."Constanza Landau of House Jaya and Marilynn Saint John of House Anahit are Assistants to President Shawnee French," Beyoncé eased things along, "so will be working closely with us, at least for the short term. Sabia Noel of House Guabancex, who I now think you know as well, has joined you as the other 'Assistant' to the 'Executive Director to the President', (that would make me an 'adept', but adept at what?), and since two of the three Regents are unfamiliar with the workings of Havenstone proper, Shawnee has asked me to perform in that role."Beyoncé was, or had been, Havenstone HQ's CFO (Chief Financial Officer). From what I was quickly piecing together, she would essentially be making all the day-to-day decisions concerning the running of Havenstone (how the Host made the majority of its money) until the Regents got up to speed.Only Buffy had actual experience with the New York office and, from what she had told me, solely within Executive Services. While ES knew 'who' did what inside Havenstone, they weren't aware precisely how those Amazons got their jobs done. That would have been an impossible task. Katrina could do it, but she knew it was beyond the ability of most of us 'mere mortals'. Since we were currently at war, the Host needed Katrina completely focused on her duties as Chief Spy-mistress, not baby-sitting the adults.Shawnee indeed had much gravitas among the other House Heads. Not only had she risen up to lead a First House, she had performed heroically during the final days of the last Secret War. Afterwards she had moved into the realm of Amazon jurisprudence and mediation. Until yesterday, she had lived in a House Arinniti freehold in Minnesota's Great Lakes region thus her desire for the 'Training Wheels' period.The Regency would not rule through telecommunication (the upper echelons feared being eavesdropped upon beyond the standard Amazon (read: paranoid) levels) and Havenstone: New York was the center best situated for the current war-fighting operations, so here she lived. I was sure a team from Executive Services was buying, outfitting/spy-proofing and fortifying a dwelling suitable for the President of a Fortune 500 company. Hayden's home would remain the domicile of Sydney thus Marilynn.The same rigmarole would be done for Rhada and Buffy (though I imaged Buffy would bitch endlessly). Publically, they were VP's of a company worth hundreds of billions of dollars and they had to present the public trappings of such leaders.Why did the Amazons do this ~ unmask their leadership to public exposure? Legal-simple: they could request and expect all levels of public and private security for their executives who happened to also be important officials of the Host. Certainly not all executives at Havenstone were officeholders, House Heads, or House Apprentices, but the high level of competence which permitted one often led to the other.Beyonce:As an example: Beyoncé wasn't the most 'bad-ass' lethal chick in House Hanwasuit. As she was preparing to be casted, her intelligence, creativity and diligence at her future craft, finances, was noted by the Host and the members of her House. In due time her name was circulated as Apprentice and the elders approved. When her elder cousin, the prior House Head, took herself to the cliffs, Beyoncé assumed the top spot. Beyoncé wasn't even one of that woman's three daughters.Mirroring her advancement in her House was her advancement in Havenstone's Accounting, Acquisitions and Banking Divisions until she was appointed CFO Havenstone HQ ~ the supreme financial authority inside Havenstone, though the individual regional branches had a greater degree of autonomy than you might normally expect from a 21st century conglomerate, or a Bronze Age autocracy.I had to constantly remind myself, despite the near-constant feuding, Amazons exhibited a phenomenally higher level of trust than I'd ever found in any other society I'd ever witnessed, or read about, before. Though technically Beyoncé could have gone to President Hayden to enforce her decisions ~ or now the Regency ~ she was far more diplomatic in her approach in dealing with the other 'continental' CEO's and CFO's.That meant she had to wrangle the aspirations and resources from:North America (including Latin America, the 'Canadian Arctic' and the North Pacific Ocean),South America (includes both the South Atlantic and South Pacific as far as Samoa),Europe (mostly Central Europe these days plus Antarctica, the 'Russian' Arctic and the North Atlantic),Africa (mostly West-central Africa),India (the subcontinent plus the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean) and,Southeast Asia (which includes Australia)All of which suggested Havenstone hadn't redrawn the Amazons' geographic demarcations since the late 19th century. As an example, an East African venture, say in Tanzania, was as likely to be under the purview of Havenstone: India (due to its control over the Indian Ocean) as Havenstone: Africa (which traditionally had no East Coast holdings due to their constant struggles versus the Arabic slave trade).Returning to Beyoncé: initially she had held the proper 'conservative' (aka man-hating) mindset. My behavior during that first Board Meeting began to change her opinion of me and the New Directive. After the Archery Range incident, Beyoncé became a vocal proponent of the New Directive and faced challenges within her ranks. House Heads do not have to accept challenges and Beyoncé didn't, reasoning with her detractors they had no alternatives save the 'Old Ways' which spelled doom for the Amazon Race.Bing-bang-boom ~ I became the Head of a resurrected House Ishara by the Will of the Ancestors and Beyoncé was vindicated. Not necessarily in the New Directive, but in her support of me thus the rebirth of a sister First House. The purge following High Priestess' Hayden's death was her ultimate absolution. The Ancestors and Destiny had spoken and shown Beyoncé had been piloting House Hanwasuit along the proper course all along.Back to my current circumstances:Oh, why was I Assistant to the Executive Director to the President? It gave me direct access to the finances of Havenstone which was a critical leg of the war-fighting stool ~ people, morale, money and equipment. As Chief Diplomat, I helped with all four of those in varying degrees, allied troops, allied victories, allied bank accounts and allied armaments.The Great Khan, my spiritual 'Blood-Brother', was ramping up his logistic support for my Amazons in Africa, Asia and the Americas. We were 'Allies in the Struggle' and he wasn't going to wait for the Condottieri to begin coordinating with the Seven Pillars to declare them to be his enemies. They were already fighting the Amazons and 9 Clans, his allies, so their fates were sealed.In Japan, my Amazons provided small yet highly effective strike groups which the Ninja families furnished all the support services for. Everything from food to bullets to medical attention as needed. Without reservation, we shared their death-grapple with the Seven Pillars.From the dispatches I was getting back from my family members and envoys in Japan, we were making serious diplomatic inroads with the Ninja. Once again, it was the Amazons shocking capacity for violence as well as their fanaticism, professionalism and proficiency which all impressed our hosts and terrified our enemies, and this from people of a philosophical mindset which had them historically battling samurai.The Black Lotus were running around like rhesus monkeys on crack cocaine unleashed in a China Shop and given RPG's. While the Amazons couldn't help them in China, Indochina & Thailand ~ the Khanate could and was. The Amazons were of more help in the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia, where the Black Lotus and Amazons were going everywhere on the offensive against the Seven Pillars while the normal tight cohesion and iron-clad confidence, traits which made the 7P's so dangerous ~ were shaken by their horrendous losses in the 'Homeland' aka Mainland China.Less we forget, the 'military intelligence' wing of their organization had been decimated by the Khanate's Anthrax attack due to members of the Earth & Sky sacrificing themselves by being injected with the toxin then allowing themselves to be captured, which always ended in torture and death.Furthermore, the People's Republic of China, while having a scary 18% of the population either captured, imprisoned, dead, or displaced due to the Khanate invasion, that had come with the loss of 63% of their landmass (they had lost all of Nei Mongol, Ningxia & Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Regions, Qinghai and Gansu as well as 90% of Yunnan, 80% of Sichuan and 20% of Shaanxi provinces) to the Khanate and the 'abomination' that was a free Tibet.Then came the Russian 'stab in the back' which entailed the loss of another 10% of their people falling under foreign dominion as well as losing 8% of their most industrialized territory, Manchuria (Heilongjiang, Jilin and Liaoning provinces ~ the Nei Mongol portion of 'Manchuria' was in the Khanate's greedy clutches, from the viewpoint of a Seven P's warrior).Don't get me wrong, they weren't about to throw in the towel. If anything, they were becoming more dedicated to trying harder, digging deep into their knowledge of every atrocity, inhumanity and perversion now deemed necessary to re-chart history back onto its 'correct' path. It was this willingness to act in an even greater sociopathic manner which was being used against them. After all, the 7P's had plenty of proxy allies, who were starting to get really nervous about what their paymasters were now asking them to do,We Amazons were getting some extra special help too. The Booth-gan (Do not call them Thuggee ~ the confederate 9 Clan member based out of India though long since ensconced within various Hindi enclaves across the Globe) had created an all-female group of ultra-fanatical Kali-devotees ~ a gift for the upcoming battle fomented by the Will of the Goddess herself.While Aya was our Queen and the Regency would rule until she wished to assume command of the Amazon People, the nuts-and-bolts of the Host's activities were handled by Saint Marie as Golden Mare (our Minister of War) (technically she held the top spot due to our State of War, though no Golden Mare had ever exercised such authority over a Queen (and she definitely believed Aya was our Queen)), Katrina (as Minister of Intelligence and Security), Beyoncé (as Havenstone (the multinational corporation) ~ our Treasurer/Economic Tsarina) and me (our Foreign Minister).Saint Marie had decided to forgo a public face in order to better facilitate her moving around to various battle fronts and holding clandestine meetings with her junior regional commanders. Her Havenstone corporate title was 'Chief of Security Training and Certification'. As an extra level of deception, the head of Security Services wasn't even a Director-level position, instead being folded into the duties of the Office of the President.To my current circumstances ~ I had been given Constanza's house name which could only mean she wasn't currently assigned to the Security Detail; a fact that couldn't have made her bad attitude any better. Marilynn had completely lost her way as an Amazon when I first met her, burying her pain and confusion in endless partying and intoxicants. I believed only her grandmother's status as High Priestess kept her from the severest of reprimands, or death. I didn't even know what Marilynn's caste was. Sabia,"While I'm sure you are both far more qualified than I, precisely how did you two get these jobs?" I had to ask my two non-coworkers. Constanza glowered. Marilynn flinched."I have an in depth knowledge of Havenstone security procedures and resources," Constanza replied."Shawnee requested me," was Marilynn's comeback. "I also have intimate knowledge of the City of New York and its environs.""Actually, Buffy Ishara recommended you both to Shawnee," Beyoncé corrected their misconceptions. I knew the score. I'd be working intimately with the tight community around the President (Shawnee) and Vice Presidents (Buffy & Rhada). Buffy wanted me to be surrounded by women who hated my guts, so I wouldn't end up boinking them. It rarely worked that way. All too often ladies who hated my still-beating heart ended up punishing me with sex. I wasn't sure why that happened, but it did."Beyoncé, didn't the Chief Diplomat of the Host have her own office? I'm pretty sure Troika had one before her unfortunate collision with Saint Marie," I felt entitled to inquire."Do you feel you've earned that office space?" she riposted."Oh, fuck no!" I waved my hands one over the other to accentuate my denial. "I was just wondering where I could stick Juanita while I'm hanging around, here.""She has the desk right outside the door, Cáel," Beyoncé smiled knowingly. "So there is no way you can sneak past her.""Oh," I grunted. "Buffy again?""No. Pamela Pile put in that particular request.""Oh, Sweet Mother of God, now she is conspiring against me too?""Yes. Some of us realize the greatest hazard to your health is yourself, Ishara," Beyoncé chided me. "We'd like to keep you around, so we listen to those charged with that nigh impossible task.""Is she going to be hanging around the office often?" Constanza asked, either myself, Juanita, or Beyoncé; I wasn't sure. She = Pamela."Please, Constanza," I attempted to intervene, "don't make Pamela kill you. It will upset Mona." Constanza's scowl was accentuated by the eyepatch covering her ruined left socket, the one Pamela had carved out when Constanza had insulted me and House Ishara on our first day of rebirth. I didn't tell Juanita this, because Juanita might just shoot Constanza over the insult before Pamela got a chance to finish the job.The tension was palatable."Mona and I have talked, about Romania, and other things," Constanza grudgingly allowed. It took me a second to realize there was a hidden meaning to what she said. Mona was part of my personal Security Detail bodyguard unit. If she felt Constanza, the woman who had raised her after her birth-mother had died, was a threat to me, she'd feel duty-bound to snuff Constanza first. Amazons were hard-ass bitches alright and I think Mona had made that clear."I hope things can improve between us," I offered to Constanza. "Beyoncé, I just stopped in to say 'hey'. I'm off to JIKIT and I've got three of the Pope's people waiting on me in the garage so,""Vice President Varma requested a moment of your time," Beyoncé smirked. "She is in 2604.""Who?""Vice President Rhada Varma, a moment of your time, alone?" she clarified."Sure thing," I backed out of the office. Once I had some space, I turned to Juanita. "Give me three minutes then bust in and say, I don't know, a tsunami is about to overwhelm the city, or something. Otherwise, I won't get out for at least an hour and I think I've put the Bishop and his people through enough delays as it is.""Are you actually asking me to stop you from having an in-office liaison?" she studied me intently as we walked in the direction of Rhada's office."Yes. It's not likely to happen often, believe me.""Oh, I do, in that you won't ask me to do it often," she grumbled. I'd deal with Juanita's morale problem later. Right now, I had to gird my loins so they wouldn't do anything else with Rhada. I had work to do, damn it!Rhada was sitting at her desk, working on something, stylus raised up so she could chew on the end. Her hair was pulled back in a half-ponytail, the type that captured the rear half of the hair in a ponytail while leaving the front and bangs free to flow down. Rhada's blouse was white & billowy and, as I was soon to discover, her pants were ultra-tight and contour hugging."Mr. Nyilas," she greeted me. "I would like a moment of your time," she relayed what I already knew. She was more than a tad nervous to boot."Vice President Varma," I started off."When in private you may call me Rhada," she interrupted."Rhada, you look more ravishing than ever."That got up her and coming around her desk, which revealed her ultra-tight pants with no sign of her wearing underwear. Yikes! My cock was preparing to do what a cock was meant to do and I just didn't have the time, Really!"Do you have any time?" she let her bosom heave."Not today, ugh," I groaned. See, Rhada took the stylus and dragged it down her chin, throat and in between her bountiful mounds.All of which exposed the top of her black bra."Are you sure, Master?" she enticed me by turning around and then leaning over her desk, point that ass in my direction. My mouth began salivating and my groin ached. I found myself quick-stepping to her and giving those buttocks two firm slaps, one on each cheek."No, damn it, though I'm going to make you pay for this when I get back," I rumbled."Master will make me wait?" she taunted me."That will cost you even more," I growled. "I have business which simply won't wait and here is my captive teasing me with the treasures of her flesh. Bad, war captive," I spanked her yet again, hard. "Bad!" and I spanked her a fourth time. With each beating, Rhada gasped in pain and then exhaled in pleasure."If I've been bad, Master must be extra harsh with me when he returns in triumph from the Great Hunt," she gloated. Rhada had gotten what she wanted, which was another affirmation of my lust for her and our 'game'. I could provide her the release she so desperately craved while allowing her the safety of remaining in the Amazon fold. It was a perfect pairing, for her.I had other problems, such as all the other baby mamas in my life plus the extra-marital affairs I was contemplating. I still took the moments we had to snuggle with Rhada, her grinding that tush into my rod while I held both her arms tightly to her side while raining kisses down onto her neck and head."Sir! A giant tsunami is approaching the city!" Juanita exploded through the door."What?" I coughed. I had a face full of hair."Huh?" Rhada pushed up and away from me. I let her go."Right now," Juanita insisted. She really needed to stop taking me so seriously when I gave her such advice."Really?" from Rhada. She shot me a curious look so I shrugged. What else was I supposed to do with such a flimsy lie forcing our separation? At least I got out of there on time?{9:50 am, Monday, September 8th ~ Last day}(JKIT HQ)"Is this a common occurrence?" Sister Rafaela Sophia whispered to the closest woman, who happened to be Wiesława, the Polish Amazon. Since she hadn't arrived with us from Havenstone, the nun might have assumed she was with the 'Americans', or British."What?" Wiesława responded evenly."Weapons combat, they look real," the nun clarified."They are real. We always practice with real weapons.""Really?""Of course," Wiesława smiled at her. "We believe a few cuts and scrapes now will save lives when the true tests come.""Oh, you are with, Havenstone?" Rafaela clued in."Yes. I am Wiesława of House Živa. I am currently assigned to Unit L, Cáel's unit within JIKIT," she offered her hand to shake. Despite being a full-blooded Amazon from a freehold, her 'human' skills were progressing nicely. The nun shook it."I am Sister Rafaela Sophia of the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that is a Roman Catholic Religious Order." Pause. "Do you hate Catholics too?""Yes. We have lived beside your people for many centuries and found your clergy to be much more dangerous than your pagan predecessors. Still, Cáel thinks you can be relied on and he's proven we can trust outsider women, which I was raised to believe was unlikely, and outsider men, which was basically anathema, so I'm willing to set aside my prejudices and judge you as an individual," the Pole imparted."Outsider men?" Rafaela mumbled."Well, yes," Wiesława smirked. "You are a nun, right?""Yes.""So you set aside the World of Men to live mostly among women, right?""Not entirely," the nun chose her words carefully. "We still rely on priests for religious rights and of course obey the life teachings of Christ and follow the leadership of his Holiness, the Pope, a man.""No one is perfect," the Amazon bantered back."Do you know the teachings of our Lord, Jesus Christ?" Rafaela ventured into dangerous waters."Yes. He was the semi-historical Son of your supposed One True God. We are not monotheists. We are Polytheists. Živa is my House's matron Goddess. It is also the name of the first woman to lead the House, her birth name surrendered to Destiny so all the daughters who came afterwards would be equals.""Oh, is Mr. Nyilas also pagan?" she inquired."I am unsure. From what I have been told, he has commended the spirit of his fallen father to your Jesus in a sacred ceremony then, in the presence of your Trinity and the Goddess Ishara, brought in new members to his House. I suspect he may be both," Wiesława reasoned. "Why don't you ask him?""Because he's fighting for his life?" Rafaela looked my way.See, the entire time their discussion had been going on, I had been sparring in a spare room at JIKIT HQ with Estere Abed, the Hashashin assassin (rather redundant ~ like saying the Sahara Desert). I had two tomahawks while she had a scimitar and curved dagger. While we sparred using the furniture as obstacles, Agent-86 was briefing me on various World events to get my input.Addison Stuart (CIA) and Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke (MI-6) were having a chat with Bishop Nicolé de Santis, verifying for themselves he was worth adding to the team. Juanita was having a similar discussion with Rikki Martin (US State Department) concerning my earlier encounter with the Papal team. Nicolé's buddy, Wachtmeister Mathias Bosshart of the Swiss Guard, was getting acquainted with the other security personnel.In comparison, those two had it easy. Both men were in their elements. Nicolé was a spook who pretended to be a diplomat for the Pope and was well acquainted with terms like 'deniable assets', 'plausible deniability' and your direct superior referring to requests concerning your identity/diplomatic status by saying 'I never heard of him and if I had, I have no idea what he was doing when you caught him doing what I don't know what he was doing', or something like that.Mathias was in the company of military-security specialists, brother professionals who were introducing him to his 'sister' professionals. Our Homeland Security gang were almost entirely former military by now. They got along with our JSOC folks and both had gained a limited acceptance with the Amazon security contingent.They bonded over the fact they were forced to work with really shady characters ~ the 9 Clans menagerie ~ who didn't always appreciate JIKIT operational security. Without going into particulars, the Wachtmeister was given the impression the abnormal was the norm and if you didn't think there was a 'down-side' to being able to carry your personally favorite bang-bang (the SG 552-2P Commando in his case) with some serious attachments (read: grenade launcher) around in downtown Manhattan, you probably didn't belong on this team.Back in the room,"He's not fighting for his life," Estere laughed. "He is fighting for mine.""Right," I responded sarcastically. We went through a flurry of exchanges, ending up with me kicking a chair at her. Estere stepped over it, colliding with me.I blocked her dagger, disarmed her scimitar and,"You are dead," she panted down at me, smiling. I was on my back, her straddling me. She had a belt-knife to my throat. I hadn't see her draw it. The scimitar 'disarm' had been a distraction."Woot!" I exhaled."But you're dead," Sister Rafaela misunderstood my good humor."He survived a minute and thirty-four seconds more today than his previous record," Estere responded. She slithered off of me, doing my arousal no good whatsoever, then offered me a hand up."And that's better?""He's a rank amateur with a few months on the job. I've been training to kill people for nearly two decades," Estere smiled. "Care to have a go?""With him, or you?""Either," Estere offered."I don't have a knife, or any hand weapons," she stated."We'll need to remedy that," Wiesława stated. "You should at least carry a knife.""Really? Why?""It is a nearly universal tool," I verbally stepped up. "Even if you are disarmed, you should be able to find one relatively easily, people are less likely to miss a stolen knife than a purloined gun, and a concealed blade could come in handy.""Do you train in knife-work?" Rafaela eye-balled me."Absolutely. It is part of my culture," I grinned."Okay. Can we spar, hand-to-hand?""Sure," I nodded. I put my tomahawks in their harnesses then put my harnesses aside. Estere gave me a wink before giving us the fighting space."So," Rafaela began to circle, "are you Christian?""By your definition, or mine?""By the definition of the Catholic Church."Oh cool, she went for a Savate stance. This was going to get ugly.My "no," was followed by her kick and my block, lunge and grapple. She wasn't nearly as good as Felix. I had her down and in a choke hold within fifteen seconds.Perhaps she thought I'd take it easy on her. She tapped out. I released her, retreated and flowed back to my boxing stance. It took her a moment to realize this was 'practice', not 'an interview'. She hadn't failed in anyone's eyes. We were both doing this to get better."See, I really, truly believe I have talked to supernatural entities ~ some who are considered divinities," I continued. This time she was more careful, trading jabs and blocks with me. "They don't claim to be the One True God. I believe in such a thing, but I also believe having been given the Message, Humanity has been left to muddle things out for ourselves."Whoops, she popped me one."The Woman-Thing this morning?""Yep," I evaded another flurry. She got cocky and I landed three blows, dropping her to the ground. I didn't help her up. Instead, I withdrew and let her get back up on her own before deciding if she wanted to continue. She did."I believe I've seen dragons and ghosts. I have felt legions of my ancestors give me quiet encouragement when I needed it. I know the dead have been brought back to life," I came at her. This time we both went for body blows, knees, elbows and fists. She was not SD-caliber and she needed to be. I grappled and she was forced to tap out again. After she regained her feet, she held up a hand for a pause."Do you believe any of that?" she addressed Estere."I am an adherent of Ismaili Islam yet nothing Cáel has encountered is contrary to my belief system. The Universe is a complex place and the Divine Light is often seen through a fractured lenses," she counseled the nun."Among the escapees were lawyer Francisco Luemba, Catholic Priest Raul Tati, economist Belchior Lanso Tati and former policeman Benjamin Fuca who are serving jail sentences of between three and six years each for supposed links to the rebel group FLEC (Frente para a Libertaé'o do Enclave de Cabinda), which carried out the attack on the Togolese football team at the start of the Africa Cup of Nations in January, 2010," Agent-86 read off yet another bit of global minutia."We need to get to them," I half turned. Sister Rafaela punched me in the gut and I folded up."Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry.""Okay," I mumbled. I had to keep with the plan. "Those men. We need to contact our Coils people in Kinshasa and the Warden of the Mountain Ways ('she' was the Amazon Host's leader of Africa ~ in the ancient times, the mountain ways had been the routes of southern vulnerability for the Amazon tribe thus the name).""Okay," both Agent-86 and Estere answered."Why?" 86 added."The Coils and the Host have had a serious problem with no nation in Africa giving them even back room recognition so we are going to take over our own country, Cabinda. It's been struggling to be free of Angola since 1975 and, by latest estimates, we've got strike elements of over 2,000 Amazons ready and waiting next door in Cameroon, Gabon and the Republic of Congo.""So you are going to go to war with Angola?" Estere frowned. "Don't we have enough enemies?""Au contraire," I grinned wickedly. "The resistance movement is genuine," I ticked off my points, "they have tons of offshore oil, and after we set off some spectacular explosions in the two main Angolan ports which are just down the coast, we allow global panic to bully the UN into intervening before the Angolan military launch an effective counter-offensive ~ considering the Angolan Armed Forces (I'd been reading up on a ton of CIA & MI-6 briefings) will most likely involve attrition warfare since they can't beat us in a stand-up fight.""They, the Angolans, have no overland access, they are separated by 60 kilometers of territory belonging to the Democratic Republic of Congo over some sad ass roads Plus the Congo River itself which is freaking huge by the time it gets that close to the Atlantic, Cabinda rests on the Atlantic Ocean by the way. No bridges. The Angolan Navy is anemic. Let me think."I began pacing."Hmm, they have no paratroopers though they have some Special Forces, we will need to hit as many of them in the barracks as we can. Their last invasion was from the north, overland, from the Republic of the Congo, in 1975, not likely to happen this time, though I may have my 'Brother' weasel up a battalion of Indian paratroopers to act as convincing peacekeepers after the initial take over.""Perhaps we can recruit some Vietnamese. I'm sure they'll love fighting in someone else's jungle for a change. We'll need some of 'our' guys to seize the port of Soyo, it is on the wrong side of the river, but has the major refinery the Cabindans will need. Since the entire surrounding province are the same ethnic make-up as the Cabindans, we'll have to take that too.""Man-o-man, I bet by the time this is over they'll really wish they'd given little Cabinda independence back in 1975. As for their other refinery, it is in their capital, Luanda, a few big explosions there too will get the markets jittery. Check that ~ the complete and utter destruction of their major petroleum facility will create a stampede for Peace," I continued. I walked over as our resident computer intelligence genius worked his magic."Blowing things up, you mean killing people," the nun blanched."Yes. This is what I do," I spared her a sympathetic glance. "I've got a madman roaming around in my head who provides me truly epic military advice which normally, but not always, means blowing shit up and killing folks. Welcome to the team," then as the data appeared, "Holy Shit! Did they build their oil refinery in the midst of their ghetto?" I was staggered. The refinery in Soyo was isolated from the town so it could be easily (and safely) seized. It was the one in Luanda which was the 'Holy Shit' site."It looks that way," Agent-86 agreed nonplussed. "Hmm, yeah, here is the port facility then your neighborhood of shoddily constructed one- and two-story dwellings between the refinery and the inland storage tanks, the perimeter barrier appears to be a chain link fence. I'd hate to be their Chief of Security.""Oh yeah," I choked. Estere slipped around to get a look."Whoops," she snorted."What are these people thinking?" I continued. "The whole shebang is exposed to the northern quarter of the city. The storage tanks have residential dwellings on all four sides with numerous side streets. Two teams with RPGs and four rounds apiece, Holy Crap. Sorry Sister.""But I want to save lives," she sputtered."Limiting the collateral damage could be pretty tough," Estere frowned. She toggled throw a series of maps to multiple pictures."Oh, look (dripping sarcasm); they light up the refinery at night. You can sit off the coast in a speed boat under cover of darkness and attack from there," she noted."Damn. Those are a lot of lights," Agent-86 agreed."24-7 operation," I suspected."We will need some experts," the government agent nodded."Or we are going to kill a fuck-load of innocent people. Not just the workers, but can you imagine a fire spreading to those neighborhoods? Shit," I muttered."You can't seriously be contemplating doing something like this," the nun sputtered. "It is inhumane. Think of the families, the children.""Lady, yes I am. Do you have any idea what the Human Rights record of the Angolan Army in Cabinda is? It is truly horrific and in case you missed it, one of the guys in dire need of rescuing by me, due to him being a huge rebel leader who has managed to escape, is also a Catholic priest. He's going to be part of the new government we are going to install once we kill a few hundred Angolans ~ mostly soldiers (more like well over a thousand).""We are going to kill a few hundred so a few hundred thousand can live free, democratic lives without worrying about the local police and political establishment torturing and murdering them. It is all part of the plan.""I think I need to talk with the Bishop.""Hang on. Let me finish," I forestalled her. "He'll get briefed along with everyone else. After all, it is a majority Roman Catholic country as is Angola, so I'm sure your guy can be of immense help.""The people you are putting at risk don't deserve this," she protested."They never do," I nodded in agreement with her. "It rarely stops terrible crap from happening to them though."I felt sorry for the Sister. She thought the Bishop was going to put a stop to this. Poor girl; he was going to do the exact opposite. See, the two competing forces at play here were a communistic kleptocracy (currently ruling Angola) and Catholic liberation theology united with a Cabindan national identity dating back to 1885. At stake was 900,000 barrels a day of petroleum. That was a bunch of funding for somebody. Last I checked, the state run energy conglomerate had misplaced $32 billion, in just three years.Mind you, the Coils of the Serpent and the Amazon Host didn't want to help the People of Cabinda out of the goodness of their hearts either. They wanted cover for the importation of weapons and other war-fighting material so they could kill the Condottieri in Africa. If the rebel leaders-turned-legitimate government didn't play ball well, the Coils were in the 'assassinating people' business and somewhere along the line the survivors would figure out keeping 'us' happy kept them alive. Problem solved.It was Bishop Nicolé de Santis' job to facilitate that understanding. If certain people with Vatican credentials explained the 'facts of life' to the new regime a lot more lives could be saved, Catholic lives. In turn, he could work to make sure the new group in power wasn't nearly as corrupt as the gang we were tossing out. Better education and quality of life, improved infrastructure & security and a nice shiny cathedral, or two.We, as in JIKIT and our component members, didn't want to rule the country and dominate the people's lives. We needed the ports and the airfields with a blind eye turned to our skullduggery. Sure, there would be future considerations. Amazons and Coil members would be fighting and dying for these people's freedom ~ public recognition definitely not required. No; the Amazons wanted to be left alone in their deep jungle homes which was an isolation they basically already had. This was a future chit which said 'don't come looking'.The Coils? Let's just say in the future Cabinda would have embassies around the globe and if occasionally they wanted someone to slip through under diplomatic cover ~ they were good for it. And if the Cabindans ever needed help in the future they knew they had friends in dark places who were now invested in Cabinda's survival. It was a win-win-win, unless you were an Angolan big-wig, or one of their foot-soldier currently serving in Cabinda. Amazons weren't big on taking prisoners, or even giving the opposition the option of giving up.For me, it wasn't lunch yet and here I was plotting to overthrow yet another government in yet another country ~ though in only two, small provinces this time. Thank the Goddess I had the rest of the week

Graduation Day.  Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels."You know nothing of what you speak of, Ishara, yet you now feel free to insult us," she simmered."Don't know, don't care. It was all before my time. I care about the 'here-and-now' as well as what we do in the future. What I am asking you is what concrete item or 'thing' can be provided to House Zorja to put this blood feud behind you. Name it and House Ishara will endeavor to procure it for you.""We are not merchants," Jana's eyes narrowed."No. I didn't imply you were. If you want new sandals for everyone in your House, I'll find you new sandals. If you want 100,000 acres of ranchland, I'll find you the land. Name it," I persisted."Our prestige cannot be bought," she 'explained'."No, but a blood feud with House Ishara can be avoided by making a request of us in the same way as expressing your desire to harm my daughter can be expressed by denying my offer," I hardened. "And 'fuck you very much' if you think I won't use every son, daughter, mother, aunt, and uncle of Ishara when I come gunning for House Zorja too.""You wouldn't dare bring outsiders into this," Klavdiya interjected."Why not? The offices of Ishara handed House Zorja the coup of the century ~ the capture of the People's Liberation Army Navy nuclear carrier. A member of House Zorja commanded that task, yet they did so by leading forces marshalled by House Ishara, outsider forces. You may wish to keep playing by old rules concerning who is and isn't part of a House, but I am not so constrained, sisters.""So Klavdiya, if House Meenakshi pursues its blood feud with House Zorja, House Ishara will gleefully join them in the pummeling. And we have Isharans in the 9 Clans, the Khanate and the Illuminati who will gladly help us out in slapping them around like the old-fashion curmudgeons they are showing themselves to be, or, House Zorja may request a gift from House Ishara and we will happily clear accounts between them and House Meenakshi in the name of our daughter, Parvati. Their choice.""You are still on the mats," Elsa reminded me. Sikia coiled protectively next to us."And you said something about a lesson being long overdue," Pamela smirked, "Kitten.""Cáel Ishara," Shawnee said in a soft voice, "perhaps it is germane to the argument: the fault of the blood feud rests with House Zorja, not House Meenakshi."I fell on my back, carrying Tad fi with me. She gasped out in surprise while remaining closely cuddled with me. Her right hand never left my lips."Why does no one tell me this shit?" I moaned."You are hard," Tad fi announced. "Are you ready to have more sex?" She was sounding upbeat about our prospects. She was also ignorant of our surroundings being deaf and blind to the mortal realm."Gossamer Wing," I created a pet name for the augur, "we are lying on the sparring mats of a large combat arena in the central Full-blooded training center for Havenstone with roughly 500 sisters in attendance (the audience had grown). While I am enticed by your scent, words, proximity and sweet memories of what we've shared, I'm probably going to be badly beaten up really soon for a terrific diplomatic snafu.""But then we can have sex?""Yeah. I'm totally up for having sex with you after they release me from Medical," I assured her. I looked around her to a very unhappy Mahdi."Can you find it in your heart to forgive House Zorja? Anything I can,""Yes," she abruptly cut me off.What the fuck?"At this time, my hatred of House Ishara, and you in particular, make any grievance I have with House Zorja pale in comparison. You have bewitched my only daughter. She bares your child, and it will be a wonderful child if the soiled augur you've stuck your cock in is to be believed," she ground out bitterly. "I want to go home. I want to find enemies to kill. And when I do, Cáel Ishara, know each and every one of them will carry your face in my mind."She turned to Jana. "Do you agree that we both hate Ishara enough to put aside our current differences?"Jana studied Mahdi, me, then Mahdi again and agreed. She stood. Mahdi stood. They clasped arms like Amazons, then hugged like sisters."Agreed. He is much worse."My thoughts on the matter. Woot! I was having sex! Oh, and I was making Aya happy by ending a blood feud."My admiration of you continues to increase," Krasimira looked at me. "This diplomacy stuff is harder than it looks yet you pull it off so effortlessly.""Yay me!" I muttered."Keeper, are we done?" Sikia asked Krasimira."I believe so," the older Amazon rose to her feet. Sikia was far faster in rising."Mahdi of Meenakshi, you have insulted me and my augur. Defend yourself," she snarled. If Tad fi hadn't been immediately present, Mahdi wouldn't have even warranted a warning no doubt."Had you done your job," Mahdi flowed into her fighting stance, "you both wouldn't be pregnant.""Whoa now," I struggled to rise while keeping Tad fi close and my body between her and the Meenakshi/Zorja side of the mat. "Sikia, I can't let you fight. You're pregnant too.""Don't be stupid, Cáel Ishara," Sikia retreated off the mat, so she could shed her jacket and footwear. "Amazons have fought pregnant for thousands of years.""Hold on now," NYPD Sgt. Larisa Kutuzov said in English as she moved forward. I was a millisecond too late. Larisa's foot touched down on the mat and Marlene Zorja popped her one, a hand chop to the larynx. The senior cop stumbled forward."Mom!" shouted Nikita. Marlene followed up with a leg sweep, putting Larisa face first on the mats, then a fist strike to the back of the head, knocking her out. Neat and tidy in less than two seconds.Nikita was about to charge in when Chaz stopped her."Footwear," he advised in the tone of voice I had learned to associate with him and imminent violence. The moment he stopped her, he was quickly removing his own socks and shoes. Virginia and Pamela were doing the same. I was allowed freedom of movement because I was holding Tad fi. Krasimira exited because of her unique status. The rest were already barefoot."Gale, could you please stay with Tad fi," I tried to hand her off."No," Gale looked me over. "I will fight." No hint on whose side she would be fighting on. Krasimira came to my rescue."I'll take her.""Tad fi," I told the augur, "I have to go get beaten up now, but I promise I will be back for you directly.""This is not your fight," Krasimira said. "The words and deeds are Sikia's.""A, she carries my child and B, the deeds being called into question are my fault.""You told me once they were the Will of Ishara," Krasimira mused."We are one in the same," I gave a lopsided grin."Be careful," Tad fi pleaded. "Your future is a chaotic jumble, I cannot see,""Eh, I've been very bad. We'll talk about it later. Gotta go," I headed onto the mats.Pamela was giving the ground rules to the 'normals': No 'fair warnings'. No 'fair play'. No 'time outs'. You fought until unconscious, or you surrendered."This is going to suck," Virginia assessed our odds. Two Amazons had removed Larisa from the mats and were tending to her. Nikita was kneeling by her side until she heard Virginia, then came our way.Besides Sikia, we had Pamela, Chaz, Virginia, myself and Nikita. Oneida stepping up was nice. She wasn't a great combatant, but we dearly needed the help. Gale joining us was, unsettling. Amazons don't play fair, so this could be a ruse.Against us were all three Zorja and both Meenakshi ~ I imagined Rhada felt she had something to prove to her mother. They'd picked up ten other Amazons and Rhonwenn Nemain. Klavdiya joined them to counterbalance her baby sister. Eight to seventeen ~ ouch."Damn," a familiar voice from my first days on the job spoke up from behind me, "we almost missed this." I didn't dare look over my shoulder. Desiree stepped between Chaz and Virginia. Rachel came up on my left and Tiger Lily on my right. At the tail end of our line was Mona, Meridian, Brielle and Wiesława. Fifteen to seventeen was looking much better, especially considering Desiree had brought five Security Detail warriors with her, all of whom were moving to further bolster our numbers."Rachel," Elsa looked to her underling, "you have no idea why you are fighting.""It is for Cáel. So it must be for a better tomorrow," Rachel laughed."Very well," Elsa smirked."You!" Mahdi pointed at me, and we both charged. It was a jumbled nightmare of clashing bodies, war cries and flashes of movement all around. Our side had two main advantages -While Chaz was by no means the best hand-to-hand combatant present, he knew the basic Amazon style and most Amazons didn't know his. Added to his overall height and bulk advantages, he bought us time.Of greater importance, Rachel, Tiger Lily and Mona had extensive training working as a team, which none of the opponents had.Elsa was the most dangerous individual on the mat. Pamela was the second most dangerous, so Elsa grabbed a couple of partners and ganged up on her to drive her off the mats. Chaz went next, out-Elsa'ed and beaten unconscious. The issue was, it took her too long to accomplish those two feats. By the time she rounded on me, Rachel and Tiger Lily, our half of the field had wiped out theirs. It was six of us (me, Rachel, Tiger Lily, Gale, Wiesława and Desiree) versus four of them (Elsa, Marlene, Klavdiya and Rhonwenn).Still, I was facing Elsa, so a judicious bit of treachery was required."Gale," I huffed and puffed, "please retire. I don't want you to fight your sister.""What?" Gale snapped. She'd taken a beating, yet remained feisty."No, fighting her sister is okay with me," Desiree scowled. "We are still facing fucking Elsa.""All the other women you have mated with have failed. I remain," Gale trumpeted."Oh, you are right," I half-turned. "All the reason you are more precious to me.""Really?""Of course," I deepened my introspective appreciation of her."Oh," and Klavdiya punched Rhonwenn. That was an 'oh, Cáel Ishara must actually care for my baby sister and not be just a Playa' on Klavdiya's part. Yeah. I'm a horrible fucking person at times.Rachel, Tiger Lily and I rushed Elsa. Marlene pivoted to ward against Klavdiya while Gale and Wiesława stormed in against her. Desiree helped Klavdiya finish drubbing Rhonwenn before they combined to force Marlene off the mats. Elsa chose to go down swinging in a dogpile of bodies. I took an ear-ringing blow to the head which allowed Rachel to apply a chokehold and it was lights out for the Head of SD.After some water bottles went around and those concussed returned to wakefulness, the resolution of the brawl was decided. Mahdi apologized to Sikia. It was short, terse and sparing of any empathy, yet was within the bounds of Amazon etiquette. She departed with Rhada, which left me to pick up the pieces, starting with Nikita's mom."Oh," the older woman moaned then, "Ms. Fredrickson? What are you doing here?""Avenging you, Mother," Nikita fluffed up the truth. "She, Cáel and the others cleaned house on the woman who jumped you and her allies.""Desk Sergeant," Desiree gave a curt nod."This isn't over," Larisa winced as she moved to a sitting position."Mrs. Kutuzov, it is over," I headed off a colossal waste of time. "This is my daily life and part of your daughter's life with JIKIT. You will find scant witnesses and no tape recordings of these events. This craziness is just another day in the life here at Havenstone. You stepped on the mat and thus became fair game to any physical confrontation an opponent cared to mete out. Consider this sovereign soil of an independent nation-state.""We," she looked around. "You kicked their asses?""Definitely," Pamela gave a feral snarl."This is plain nuts," she shook her head, winced in cranial pain, then put her aching head in her hands."One of the reasons we've put our dating in hiatus," Nikita comforted her mother while looking at me, and smiling affectionately.Ah, for fuck sakes! I was engaged to someone else and having a dozen kids by ten different women. How could I still possibly be considered viable dating material? Oh yeah, martial valor, laughing at death, I hung out with truly exceptional cool people and I would always be in need of saving, a plus for a crusader like Nikita.I had so many allies to tend to, but only one who seemed to be making an exit. I swooped down on Tad fi long enough to place her fingers to my lips."I'll be right back, friend of a friend in need," and off I went. I caught Tavi of House Stolgos just outside the door. She wasn't avoiding me. She'd been observing Chaz and he had been otherwise occupied.My British companion had played a pivotal role in the combat and taken his beating like a man. He'd been rendered unconscious. So had many others, so no stigma was attached to his loss. Post-battle, he had chosen to sit on his haunches, knees up, talking to several of the Amazons, both kneeling and standing. A few had been bystanders and a few others foes.He stayed on his ass to reduce his height advantage. Letting Amazons make eye contact while not having to look up at you created definite benefits. His good natured approach to his role in the fight and pummeling earned him positive vibes as well. He made it clear the tussle to him was not macho-personal. He was my 'brother / sister / sibling' spiritually-speaking via Pamela adopting us both as her 'grandsons', so my fights were his fights. Sikia had my (Cáel's) child, so that bond extended to her as well ~ family.Pamela and I had schooled him on Amazon psychology and those lessons were now paying serious dividends. 'The Male' hadn't wanted to fight them ~ 'Amazons are tough' he'd confessed, he knew this because he worked with several every day on JIKIT~ but family was on the line, so he fought. Mahdi had apologized, so the matter was settled. The other Amazons he'd fought? They had fought for their reasons and he was okay with not questioning them about it.Why? He was conscious of his conspicuous status as a 'guest', knew he was in no way an Amazon, and was not privy to what motivated them. He didn't want to be an Amazon. He had his own, much younger, martial tradition he was proud of, yet was eager to learn from the vastly greater Amazon war lore because 'winners' didn't have a gender-bias and no other tradition could compete with the Amazons' 3,000 years.Under normal circumstances, the women around him wouldn't have given credence to his praise. He was a male after all. Through the tiny tear I'd created in their insulating social fabric, Chaz was building upon his own exploits. In the after-battle analysis, the Amazons reflected on the realization Elsa had concentrated on him as her number two objective, second only to Pamela who scared everyone who knew anything about her. That bolstered Chaz's appeal.For the Amazons who thought a male would get all pouty and cry over being beaten up by a girl/girls, Chaz was breaking the mold. He wasn't angry. He was amused. The fight had been a learning experience and he'd felt honored to watch, no matter how briefly, a warrior of Elsa's caliber fight. He'd explained 'I', Cáel Wakko Ishara, considered Elsa one of the top 5 combatants I'd ever seen, which included Ajax the Unconquered. The others were Sakuniyas, reborn Amazon and former Queen of Assyria, Saint Marie, the Golden Mare, and Pamela, the Cliff-walker.More happy Amazons because the list's only non-Amazon was a dead Hero from the Trojan Wars and it was well known I 'got around' (aka dealt with violent outsiders.) Chaz was telling the truth, almost. The 'fifth' person on the list was Alal, but explaining him would be difficult, so Chaz edited him for this particular audience. Good man.In the hallway, "Tavi, a moment," I called out. She slowed down, took a few more steps allowing me to catch up."Yes Ishara?" she gave me her best neutral look. Yep. She was jealous."I beg two favors from you," I quickly went down to one knee in her path. That caught her off guard and left her in the awkward position of me being terribly close and staring up at her."I, I will listen," she muttered."I would like to know if you are pregnant," I asked very softly. Yes, she was, but she didn't want to tell me. She contemplated pushing past me. It would be very easy. "I know I am stepping beyond the boundaries between warriors. Please. My destiny has brought you two together. I am at fault here." 'Fault' was the key word."If I have a son, he will be given to the Queen," Tavi's face was stern and unforgiving. "He will live.""That's not what he's worried about," I shook my head. "He wants to be a father to your daughter, Tavi. He wants to introduce you to his mother and grandmothers, maybe his sisters too, if that can be arranged.""Huh?""He is not like me, Tavi. There is no other in his life, but you.""I, I will not leave my House for him," she protested angrily."He would never ask you. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to remain at your side for years to come. He can be a father to your child and not be a part of House Stolgos in the same way you can be a mother to your child and not be a part of Clan Tomorrow.""Oh," she furrowed her brow. "How would this possibly work?""I have an 'in' with the Queen," I winked. "I'll work out something.""He knows I will never stop being an Amazon," she elucidated intensely."Absolutely. He is an intelligence operative after all. He's figured a few things out for himself.""Why doesn't he tell me these things?""Tavi, he threw his body on top of me to shield me from a bomb blast, so he's undoubtedly brave, but telling you what is in his heart is scary for him. As his brother, I see behind his silence,""Oh, what should I do?" she was vexed."Go back in there, demand to speak with him and tell him the truth," I stood up."The truth?""That you are going to have a little StolgosTomorrow-ite running around sometime next year," I exuded confidential friendliness."Cáel Ishara," she tilted her head slightly, "you don't know much about infants, do you?""Nope," I pseudo-confessed. I actually did know something about newborns. I'd studied up so I could make a move on a cute girl whose free time was eaten up by babysitting, so I 'helped out'. Oink."They aren't 'running around'," she turned to head back into the gym, "until the ninth month at the earliest. Normally, running doesn't happen until the eighteenth month.""My fiancée has a three-year old, so she should be able to help me through some of the hardest parts," I babbled along. Tavi didn't give a crap.In we went. Tavi stormed straight toward the bevy of Amazon babes concentrating on 'her' Chaz."Color Sergeant Tomorrow," she abruptly interrupted. "A moment of your time.""Ladies," Chaz uncoiled himself from the surrounding women. The Amazons were either mildly put off, they thought they were about to get laid, or pissed off, they were sure they were about to get laid, and Tavi was stomping on their happy."Yes, Ms. Gentry," Chaz linked his hands behind his back in a 'rest easy' stance. 'Gentry' was the fake last name Tavi used in the outside world. She motioned toward the windows with her head. Off they went. I couldn't hear what was being said, but my lip reading skills were up to the task.T: (I am pregnant)C: (I love you)T: (Oh) ~ stunned. Go Chaz!C: (Well, I don't imagine the Amazons have a marriage ceremony and an Anglican service would be inappropriate, so perhaps we could research a Scythian ritual which could make both families happy) ~ delivered in the patented smooth Chaz style.T: (Marriage? To you?)C: (I will not submit to being anyone's slave nor would I ever ask you to submit to me. Outside of that, will you be my partner and my partner alone until the cliffs separate us?)T: (Amazons are not monogamous)C: (I am)T: (I will, I mean, can I think about this?)C: (I am not going anywhere, Tavi){Pause}T: (Did you put Ishara, Cáel Ishara up to this?)C: (Yes)T: (Why?)C: (I imagine he explained what I am feeling better than I could)T: (Oh, do you want me to meet your mother and grandmothers?)C: (Absolutely)T: (Okay)C: (Okay ~ you would like to meet my Mother and Grandmothers?)T: (No, yes, I mean, yes I would like to meet them and I am okay with you being with no other woman until the cliffs separate us, and I will do the same, no other males)C: (If I pick you up, hug you and kiss you, will your sisters freak out?)T: (I don't know)So Chaz swept Tavi up until her head was higher than his (a feat, considering their 8" height differential) and kissed her deeply. Mumbled words followed. Tavi wrapped her legs around Chaz's waist and out they went. Around me were angry murmurings of the 'did that Amazon just run off with our man' variety. Not my problem. I had plenty of different Amazons wanting my attention. Hallelujah!{8:00 pmDon't try this at home.I covered my face with a pillow and pressed down hard. I'd already tried breathing exercises, meditation and even contemplated more cranial trauma before thinking up this particular crazy idea. It took some mental effort and accessing some of my Alal-'pain sorting' skills to accomplish, but in the end, I felt myself 'let go'.I sat up."Hello," Tad fi beamed."Hey," I took a deep breath. Since we were talking, I must have passed out. Her eyes wandered over the room."Is this the world as you see it?" she wondered. Oh yeah, I had to be creating the environment for her to enjoy.Sikia was kneeling on the bed a foot away, her gaze moving between the two of us. The 'grayness' of her form suggested she was wholly in reality and not in the 'Ishara-space' the goddess had shown me and I was now sharing with my augur."This is how you see me?" she examined her fingers, her wrists, then some long locks of her hair."You are more beautiful," I answered. The impact of my words crossing over drew her eyes back to me. It was the magic of hearing for the normally deaf girl. I concentrated, peeled back some fantasy and attached a realistic form to Sikia. Tad fi followed my gaze."Your hair," she addressed her guardian, "It is lighter than I imagined."Sikia said something I couldn't understand, muffled as it was by my dreaming."I cannot hear you, but I see you through his eyes," the augur carried on her conversation. They touched. It had to be somewhat bizarre for Sikia. As she reached for Tad fi's hand, her friend intercepted the extended member. Their fingers intertwined before completing the journey to the guardian's lips."Don't cry, no, we couldn't have, no, we shouldn't have knocked him out sooner. I don't think he was aware of this discipline when we first met. Were you, Cáel?""No. Perhaps if I had understood more about the consequences of seeing ghosts, I might have," I tapered off. "Now that we know. I can try this more often.""Your health?" Tad fi worried."I might be immortal," I confessed. I was confessing because I was desperately seeking a way to share some of my genetic quirkiness with her ~ some strength to carry her through this pregnancy and spare her life, Dot Ishara be damned."And you would seek a way to spare me," she graced me with her gentle presence. Lying in the 'spirit' world was a whole lot tougher than in the flesh."Yeah. I've got some arcane lore rattling around in my head, plus I have a few outside sources I can ask for help. I'm not giving up on you.""I have foreseen my death.""Well, un-foresee it," I scolded her. "Dot Ishara told me we see what might happen, though nothing is guaranteed. So even your death isn't an absolute. Since it hasn't happened, I see no reason to let it happen. You are going to live to hold our daughter. If not, my immortality is worthless.""You can never save everyone. Sometimes you must let a few go to save the rest," she advised."If I find someone I'm not attached to, I'll let them go. I promise. Until then, I'm, ugh, I'm fading, and I'm keeping you.""We shall see," she murmured. I fell back into my body and into wakefulness."Now we have sex," Tad fi announced in a melodic voice."He is ready to perform," Sikia agreed. She was fondling my balls with one hand while her breath played across my rod. I sat up to see the augur climbing up the bed between my thighs. She kissed my glans, licked across its top, then kissed it again."I've got it from here," she told Sikia."What?" Sikia was confused. Tad fi's lips began to engulf my sceptre."Sikia, come here," I gently pulled on her arm. She was conflicted yet up some came.We started out with tender kisses on the lips. I kept drawing her toward me. My lips and tongue migrated down her chin and throat to her breasts. When she thought my target was her breasts, she was all onboard. That was a mere stop-off point on my journey, though I played around for a while.At the same time, I had to use subtle movements with my hips and clenches with my gluts to school Tad fi on her fellatio. Thankfully, I was doubly-blessed. This wasn't my first time schooling two girls at once and Tad fi could determine more from such minimal reactions due to her heightened sense of my muscle contractions through her touch than any other woman I'd ever met.When I began running my tongue in large lashes underneath her breasts, I confused Sikia once more. She was resistant as my hands on her hips pulled her higher so that my lips and teeth could tease her taut stomach while I twirled my tongue in her belly button. She giggled.I had been slowly wiggling down the bed, backing Tad fi up, so when it came time to mount Sikia on my face, I had the headboard room. I kept her muscular thighs securely in hand because the moment I had her happy, I pushed her up. She looked down, seeking guidance and I motioned her to turn around. She did the eye-ball math, realized she'd be facing her augur, and hastily obeyed. Of course, her movement on the bed alerted Tad fi through mattress vibrations.Sikia was sitting on my face, leaning down so she could run her hands through Tad fi's hair and along her face and lips (and my phallus). I kept my hands pressed between our bodies. My right made the sojourn to my pubic area to play around and give them both something else to suck on, my fingers. My left loitered around between Sikia's breasts and her clitoris when my lips were otherwise occupied.I could cup her clit with my tongue in a U-shape, rubbing it along my taste buds. Most of my time was taken up with my tongue broad lashing her vulva or tightly-twisted and delving into her cunt and my nose pushing against her brown hole. I could tilt myself up so I could make tongue-intrusions into her back passage as well. The first time, she squealed.Before she could decide if she wanted to make me stop (she did, virtually all first timers always default to asking their partner to stop, so you have to distract them), Tad fi wanted to know what had brought her reaction on. Then came Sikia's troubled revelation of what I was doing, how the augur shouldn't suffer through it, despite the increasing pleasure she was receiving, only to finally be unable to supply the answer as to why Tad fi shouldn't experience it too.Sikia shot me a treasured look of bewilderment. I'd brought her to orgasm with my tongue alone. I was a guy after all."Switch?" I suggested. Tad fi was still administering one of the slowest, most considerate blowjobs I'd ever experienced. She wasn't rushing toward anything. Sure, she was unschooled, but was devoting her incredible sensitivities to my pleasure and taking pleasure in her ability to bring me to such excitement."Change places?" she mused. "Okay." Tad fi's lips slid off me with one final, loud 'pop', then she used her spider-like fingers to climb up my body while Sikia traveled south. She lavished butterfly kisses on my face ~ childish, yet so very appropriate between us ~ and I mirrored the gesture.With some reluctance, she mounted me, facing Sikia. My tongue flicking across her clit on its first exploration brought out a joyous gasp. It only got better from there.The Long Slide Into Domestic Life:"Twins?" Hana snuggled into my arms. We were at her place, naked in bed together after a late late-night unscheduled meeting with some VIPs. Despite the late/early hour, she was alert, tense even. It had been a mentally stimulating late night encounter which had brought me to her bed."Yes. That is what Tad fi predicted," I inserted between raining kisses down on her forehead. Hana liked non-distracting attention when she was in this kind of mood. She was exhausting herself mentally as she was building up to being amorous."Ana-Călina and  rp d?" she worked over the names on her tongue. "They have a special meaning?""Only if you are Hungarian and Romanian," I teased her. She elbowed me slightly. " rp d was the semi-mystical pagan warlord who led the Ten Tribes who became known as the Hungarians ~ the Magyar peoples ~ into the Carpathian Basin, present day Hungary. Ana-Călina was born a Byzantine princess of the storied House of Basarab; she married Radu Negru, thus becoming the first Princess of a free Wallachia ~ the foundation for a free Romania. She was also the great-grandmother of Dracula.""So they are famous names with regional historical significance, did they live long, happy lives?"" Árpád, no one knows for sure. His kids were quarrelsome, but they did manage to found a dynasty at the start of the second millennia which ruled for three centuries.""Ana-Călina, yeah. I think so," I continued. "She lived into her seventies and her eldest son left his country stronger, richer and safer than when he received it. She did out live her husband by over fifty years, and got to see her youngest grandson bury most of his rivals, the kids from her husband's first marriage.""Ah, what?" Hana rose up until we were eye to eye. Since she was naked, her boobs swayed slightly as she did so. My eye flickered. "Eyes forward, Mister," she playfully barked. "What happened to all her other grandsons?""Wallachia in the 15th century was a tad rough and tumble," I evaded."They killed one another?""Mostly they were killed by conspiracies amongst their boyars, nobles of the time.""Why does, Tad fi want to dredge up these names again?" she kept eye contact."Not a clue," I pleaded."But you think it is important?""No. I think you are important. Screw Fate. It can name its own kids. We can chose whatever names make you happy, except 'Up'. Up's been taken.""You've named another of your offspring 'Up'? That's cruel, or does that mean something in another language I'm unaware of?" she shifted her shoulders so her boobs wobbled again. Of course, I broke eye contact. I hadn't had sex in hours and her boobies were right there, damn it!"Actually, Pamela and I named this secret agent in Hungary that, just to fuck with his head," I divulged."Oh. Pamela. I should have known," she slowly smiled. "You are being very well behaved," she added. Woot! She noticed I wasn't throwing her down and pawing her delectable flesh. "One more thing before the nookie.""Name them. Their dead," I pledged."Not necessary," her sigh turned into a giggle. "If I'm going to be having twins, I'm going to be rather big come late March. We need an earlier wedding date."Oh, fuck me!"What do you have in mind?" I tried to keep the creeping dread out of my voice."New Year's Day?" she suggested. I did a quick calculation. That was annihilating 78 days out of what remained of my bachelor life. In 114 days my life would cease having any meaning whatsoever. I'd be a Mr. to someone's Mrs. The end"Sure, I can arrange to be killed before then," stumbled out of my mouth."What was that?" Hana pouted."Nothing Dear. Cosmic psychic intersection with an Al -demon; don't know what came over me," I fibbed."Man up," Hana bit my nose. "Our marriage won't be that bad if we both work at it. It isn't like I'm demanding celibacy from you." Then she mouthed 'yet'."Wait. Did you mean celibacy, as in no fun at all, or monogamy, as in only 'happy time' with you?" I desperately sought clarification."Oh," she pursed her lips. "I meant monogamy. I didn't mean to scare you.""Oh, thank goodness," I sighed."Here," her gaze turned tender. "Let me make it up to you." Hana placed one hand on my shoulder and rose up my body until my face was gently nestled in her bosom. Then she wiggled back and forth, basically because I'm a big baby and easy to please. I was alternating which nipple I was kissing in no time."Mmm," she murmured. "I've missed you." Her other hand's fingernails coasted down my abdomen and found 'Mr. Happy' had risen to attention. Okay, he'd been hopping up and down on my groin since she'd said we were 'going to bed' 30 minutes ago. Hana decided wrap up my shaft with her hand, then applied a few tender strokes. I reciprocated by cupping her left tit in one hand, forming a mound with her areola at the center, and began to twirl from the outside inward to her hardened nipple with just the tip of my tongue.It was 4 a.m. Why was I taking it slow when I had my final work review with Katrina in three hours? Hana deserved this and more. Why was Hana doing it? She was her own boss, plus her life was careening wildly outside of anything she'd imagined before she'd first laid eyes on me. Half of the financial empire she shared with her father was suddenly in the hands of a military dictatorship, her beloved father was dealing with the murder of her hated step-brother and she was marrying a Prince in a European cathedral which required someone high in the Vatican's approval process to use.Yeah, her life had gone nuts. Worse, she loved me. And I wasn't the kind of man she ever thought she'd love. She'd thought she'd never love anyone again after her life with her asshole of an ex-husband and their bitter, contentious divorce. I was barely someone she could classify, and Hana was a terribly ordered and organized person. Saying my life was messy was being generous. I was some mysterious warrior-diplomat-playboy-aristocrat who hung out with people more bizarre than me.Hana picked up her tempo. I switched breasts. Her motor was really starting to hum. Any other night, I could have moved straight to revving her up to an orgasm. I had the time to make it two without any problems. A good one and Hana would be happy and drift off to sleep. Instead, I intuited she wanted more, so we developed our own game of cat and mouse with her climax, and its suspension, being our ultimate goal.My left hand danced down the back of her ribcage like playing keys on a piano. It was a light, teasing gesture. Her hair the color of tarnished gold cascaded down as she began placing her own kisses upon my crown. Each move by one partner evoked a response by the other. Hana ran my glans over her glistening labia, getting it nice and slick. I worked down her waist, cupped her ass, and then glided over her thigh to the back of her knee where I started tickling her. She snickered."You are distracting me," she murmured. I wasn't. I knew these things."I like to get the feel of every inch of your flesh," I responded. More mirthful noises from her. Slowly, her gooey vestibule rubbed against and over the top, until I felt myself entering. There, she hesitated. I propelled my hips an inch up, twisted right then left before falling back down, a micro-fuck."Ah," she emoted her approval. "My turn." Hana's knees spread to the side, making a memorable sound on the silk sheets as she impaled herself. This time she rolled her hips forward, back, then did a slow 360 with me  inside her, letting the slow progress over her spark memories for her to savor. "I never believed sex could be like this," Hana hiccupped."How so?" I knew the answer, but wanted her to put her chaotic passions to words. It would make her happier."Experimenting, silly. Stopping in the middle and doing, this," she reversed her hip rotations this time. "I never imagined a lover having such patience, or,""Yourself as being so openly sexually adventurous?" I finished."Yeah," she huffed. "I really, really owe your college professor, plus you and all your diligence, for this," at the last moment, she encountered the gateway to her G-spot. I knew precisely where that gem was. Previously, Hana had gained a vague idea where it was from the perspective of masturbation and our prior lovemaking. Now I had let Hana rediscover that joy with my cock as her tool to utilize as she wished."You realize pregnant women want even more sex," she hummed. She was vigorously working my cock now. Hana had bridged a huge gap, sexually. Normally, a woman of Hana's quality tried to please her man first with the hope her orgasm would soon follow. I was different. My greatest sexual gratification came from her ecstasy. She was confident in that now. By bringing herself to climax, she was making me excited for what would come next."That's okay," I propped myself up on one elbow now that Hana was riding me cowgirl-style. "I dig big chicks." The open-palm slap to the chest was a given."Hercege, you, you are horrible," she growled around a feral smile. The lip-biting, tongue-sucking kiss was equally vicious, primal and leading Hana to the end of her tether. Not only was Hana's sexual trust in me/us expanding, she was putting extra effort into her physical workout regime too. She might still have a ways to go to compete with an Amazon, but it was still going to be a great night."Hercegn , I am nothing but a twisted shadow of masculine lust whose every contour is cast by your muliebrous glow," I teased. Her eyes twinkled. Yes, definitely still going to be a great night."Okay," Hana yawned, "I give up. What does 'muliebrous' mean?" She'd been holding on to that for an hour and a half. It was five-thirty and I was dressing in my biking clothes before heading into work."From the Latin 'muliebri' which means 'womanly'," I answered. Her sleepy eyes drank in both my response and my physique. I had discovered another thing Hana liked and that was to expand her academic/linguistic frontiers. She was enchanted with the idea that I liked to engage her mind along with her body, sparking on all cylinders.She'd crawled over to my side of the bed, her head resting on my pillow, soaking up my scent as she watched me. I knelt down, kissed her on her ear, cheek and finally the side of her lips. Hana was beat."Have a good day and be careful," she mumbled. Her eyes closed. Her chest rose with one last, waking breath before her sleep rhythms took her."Ditto," I whispered. I snuck into  Annela's room and planted a kiss on her head as well. The craziness of my life had a way of cascading over to the ones I loved. Loved? Oh boy,7:00 am Monday, September 8th, Graduation Day!Brielle and her buddy were humming along as the elevator doors closed. Once more, my 'hellish' schedule demanded I change in the elevator. I'd gone to gun practice with my bike clothes on, so I absolutely had to change into business attire in the magic box, in front of them.Juanita adjusting my tie was a less than subtle attempt to strangle me. I was about to be late to my final 'start of day' meeting as an intern in Executive Services, so her chastisement would have to wait. Who would have thunk it? Juanita would have to wait outside for this ceremony. Paula raced with me to be the last one in, only to have Daphne grace us with the 'news':"The meeting won't start for another fifteen minutes," she grinned. "Katrina is bringing up the 'new hires' for the fall program."I finger-flicked my head. The 84 days as an intern was merely the 'training wheels' period. To really be a member of ES was at least a two year training process. The Amazons around me had started their training for this gig when they were fifteen and were eighteen and nineteen now, their ID's said they were older for legal purposes.In theory, my four years in college was counted as 'preliminary' training and provided things such as acclimation to outsider culture ~ aka 'acting normal'. Logically, I would train under someone like Desiree or Buffy for a year before being a full-fledged member of the service."How many this time?" I asked Daphne since she seemed to be in the know."Twenty," she grinned. "We are getting two."I noticed there was still only my tiny desk in Katrina's office. That meant the new guys would be out in the office pool with everyone else. Probably for the best. The ladies were now used to having a male around, so would be careful in what they did and didn't say. I yawned."Tired," Fabiola smirked."Oh yeah," I stifled another yawn. "Met an emissary from the Pope." Fabiola glowered. "No. Seriously. I met an emissary from Holy See. I let Hana know I wanted to get married in a highly improbable place, a ruined cathedral, so she contacted the Catholic Church and one of their guys wanted to meet with me.""That had to be fun," Tigger grinned. "What does the Cult of the Nazarene think of you and the Goddess Ishara?""We actually discussed polytheism and the place of an omnipotent, omnipresent being in the scope of things," I placed my hands behind my back and rocked back and forth. "It was quite interesting. The guy knew his shit."By that, I meant he was probably with the Pope's Secret Service as well as a Brainiac with a PhD in something. He'd promised to be in touch as soon as he heard back from his superiors. He had this hot chick with him who I suspected was a nun. And if his driver wasn't ex-military, it was because he was still in the service. On the plus side, Hana had been beaming when we left, which assured me the meeting had gone well, so we had sex from 4 AM until 5:30, thus my current fatigued state."Are you going to abandon your faith?" Fabiola taunted me."I don't have faith, Fabiola of Minerva. Faith would imply I don't know there are supernatural entities screwing with our lives. I know they do exist, I've met a few. To satisfy your disingenuous curiosity, we discussed the nature of the Weave and it being the possible manifestation of God's Will.""How did that go?" Paula appeared interested."He strongly suggested I should 'revisit my Catholic roots' soon. By that, I think he meant I'm supposed to start attending church regularly," I shrugged. "The Pope is sending an envoy to the Great Khan too, so odds are good I'm getting married," I pronounced the last bit as the doom-laden prediction it was."Oh, yes," Fabiola reached passed Paula and smacked me in the chest with the back of her hand. "That is for insinuating you and I had intercourse to my Mother and the Council.""Was that chastising me for lying, or for not making it so?" I winked."Ah, no!" she pouted. "Stop lying about me."I looked down at my phone."We've got twelve minutes," I double-pumped my eyebrows. "Want to go to Katrina's bathroom?""What! No!" Fabiola

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.

This Lukan fable has a pretty clear message: Wealth creates an impassable crevasse between humans. Wealth is only one of the many things that can create impassable crevasses between people; so too can race and religion and immigration status, to name a few more. But I have to believe the fable is ultimately meant to inspire us to bridge crevasses before it's too late. This sermon will take you to the midnight bedroom of Ebenezer Scrooge, to the summit of Mt. Rainier (aka “mama Tahoma”), to a jail cell in Durham NC, and to an Executive Board decision of some uncharacteristically speedy Mennonites. Buckle up and come along for the ride; we need one another more than ever. And please remember: I do not answer questions. I do not answer questions. I do not answer questions. We keep each other safe, beloveds.Sermon begins at minute marker 5:22Luke 16.19-31ResourcesBibleWorm podcast: Episode 633 - The Rich Man and Lazarus, Amy Robertson and Robert Williamson, Jr'Crevice' and 'Crevasse': A Gap in Meaning, Merriam-Webster.Anabaptist Community BibleNew release: “MC USA and more than two dozen Christian and Jewish denominations and associations sue to protect religious freedoms,” February 11, 2025.Isaac Samuel Villegas, Migrant God: A Christian Vision for Immigrant Justice (Eerdmans, 2025), 6-8.Front Light podcast, by Mennonite Action, “From ‘quiet in the land' to suing the US Government, reflections on Mennonite advocacy with Iris de León-Hartshorn,” Season 1, Episode 4 (2025). Mennonite Action: “God's Love Knows No Borders” actions, 2025.Know Your Rights with ICE, by WAISN (Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network)Rebecca Solnit, A piece for all hard times. Excerpt: “They want you to feel powerless and to surrender and to let them trample everything and you are not going to let them. You are not giving up, and neither am I. The fact that we cannot save everything does not mean we cannot save anything and everything we can save is worth saving.  You may need to grieve or scream or take time off, but you have a role no matter what, and right now good friends and good principles are worth gathering in. Remember what you love. Remember what loves you. Remember in this tide of hate what love is. The pain you feel is because of what you love.”Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, 1843.Image: Ladder bridging crevasse on Mt. Rainier; G310ScottS, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia CommonsHymn 149 - Forgive, Forgive Us, Holy God. Text: Shirley Erena Murray (Aotearoa/New Zealand)  Music: Barbara Hamm (USA), © 1996 & © 2016 Hope Publishing Company. Permission to podcast the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE, license #A-726929. All rights reserved.

Pastor Steven Helfrich's sermon at the Bridge on Genesis 27:41-30:24 taken from the March 30th, 2025 Sunday service. Services are held every Sunday at 10 AM at 504 E 12th Street in Alton, IL. www.thebridgealton.com

Hana shines and Aya rises.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it.”My equilibrium decided to cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is only me, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy, hi Juanita," I hadn't spotted my designated bodyguard standing behind Chaz."Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious with you." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy."Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added to the regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not a fucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company," Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff."Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have a child," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with two Amazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past ten minutes."You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz dryly remarked."I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom, Deidre and Imogen, plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out the Titanic."Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamela smiled at her two grandsons."Cáel, are you going to tell your fiancée you've impregnated your aunt?" Chaz was back to being mildly sympathetic to my 'totally fucked-up' life."Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garner me enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing her drink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned.I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armed FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox (did you know when a Federal Agent adds 'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?) stood next to my chariot. She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of driving today.I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Her training involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course from the FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well as whatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced.Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind those scholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon') legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successful social instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectful manner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on the original horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform.Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (aka need to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortune cookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store. As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel of folks come down toward us from the fourth level.I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamela each went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in their jackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could fire through the stairs from beneath.Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the S U V because sending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefight did break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up while Virginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself.Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women, early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. A few looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, with no obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance. Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing."Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fiery red-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles. Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelic during orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other love interests?She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with a belly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans and soft leather calf-boots."Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering an all-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering."How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still be alive?" was Chaz's spin on things."We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where you suffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemming stampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled to Pluto because the Sun was too good for you."9, 10, 11 --12 of them looking, 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded me of my fiancée, another red-head, two russet and five with deep, dark brown, or black hair. They were all fit, fit, fit! With an air of 'I graduated college only to discover: 1) no one was hiring Saline Soil Scientists, or 2) I no longer want to do any of the things I wanted to do when I picked this major. I was familiar with both types.Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in to regale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of my bedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so, now I recalled; that particular excuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspicious come calling.I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered, a bit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment, so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangement had been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment at Havenstone.I'd neglected, telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd find a way to make it up to him later."Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off by the Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000 applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident."These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Sea resorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in the Northern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since, that would be the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years.""Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidae catastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using a Bortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending my ashes to Pluto," I explained.Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway, the owner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so, The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and made in Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km, which would leave me crash landing into the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, rendering me and my voles so much frozen food."You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped. Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights."Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don't want my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth's endangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because we suddenly feel bad about neglecting it.""E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her why she knew Maori later, right after I figured why Grandpa knew it."Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused."I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones. It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them."You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leader sighed."Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides, Ba ch ir fear a bheith ar eolas ag a gn omhais, n  a oidhreacht." (A man should be known by his deeds, not his heritage)."Sa ch s go bhfuil misneach, t  s il agam," she replied using my 'family' motto."Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van b tors ga, van rem ny," and "cesaret olduğu yerde umut vardır," all followed. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope' in Finnish, Hungarian and Turkish. I got the sneaking feeling this wasn't a college field trip gone awry. These chicks were coming at me with a purpose that included more than sexual gratification and a kiss good-bye. Ugh."Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of my personal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid I don't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date with my fiancée in a half-hour and will be taking notes at a feminist convention at 8, what can I do for you?" I was establishing my escape plan."We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned one smiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve of these girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight and the last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the Lacrosse Finals."What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted."We are the (Irish) 'Na conairte soith an   S aghdha ar', (Hungarian) 'A szuka kuty kat Herceg Nyilas', (Turkish) 'Prens ok u Kaltak K pekleri' and (Finnish) 'Narttu koirista prinssi jousimies'," they chorused.Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'the Bitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea)."You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irish choice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technically made them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was going to figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her."You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" I nearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back."Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'First Person Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants who joined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession!"Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience at all? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?""Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let you down.""You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?" Chaz sent me a chilling look."Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?" floated around."Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker' human suit to trick the masses.""Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up.By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their native countries, then left after their first term because they found military life to be boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and six of the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy was going to kill them, all twelve at once by herself."I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm a stone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will show up at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms and then warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, we are going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you will write this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet are foolish in practice. Do you accept?""How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and your Crusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked."All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quite extensive.""You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of the Turks blinked in disbelief."Yes. I am not disrespecting you, any of you. You've shown initiative, courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable and worthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also telling you is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat in single combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm only saying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."Their eyes flickered to Pamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, or appear harmless, as she wished."Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriors and in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostile individuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations.""The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three people who could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree, Chaz?""Absolutely," he concurred."We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smile and cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood."You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting her in the ass, not me. Yay?"You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz. That was Welsh, and meant Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow, I imagined his superiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us, him being a 'secret military operator', emphasis on the 'secret'."And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girl pointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret Spy Pamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone back to the origin of the name of Pamela, a fictitious 17th English novelist creation using mangled Hellenic, which translated as 'all-honey'.'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah, those twelve had combed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was and who Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when we were all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSH agent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me, the unspoken 'sidekick' thing.(For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', it really existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foil for James Bond.)"Chaz, since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, we must insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments, in person. I want to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who had thrown himself between me and an explosive vest, probably out of some psychic impulse that I would suffer far, far worse later, like in today, within less than 24 hours of said act."Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned."Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out."We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me."Oh yeah, fortune cookies," I mumbled."Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many of them are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of the Hungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter account. Odette, she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, but I had a feeling that was fading fast."Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on the third floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back."What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" to Chaz, then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught."I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting with some really shady characters and my fiancée," I informed them."Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to love that,""And then," Pamela continued."She is going to want a gun," I groaned.Oh goddess! No! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'."No, I have not," Chaz corrected me, about my mental ruminations."I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my new prospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards,"Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and "Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?""Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have six models," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten times a day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks for food, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is so damn fun."While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed (as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring off the sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incredibly happy smile."Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?"I wanted to cry.(A Family FUNction, minus the 'fun' part)My fiancée giving me a congenial and contented look. Good.My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hook up soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combo with a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, if you can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me.Brooke had joined the lunch group, sharing a smile and wink with Libra with the secret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this, hmm, lunch break Friday, yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks, minus the shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure.Hana was a saint for putting up with those two, and me.Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for the rest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. As for the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel m nage   trois, Buffy was reading the undercurrents and setting up a breakwater. At least her attire suggested well-paid, successful international assassin. I wondered if I had paid for her clothing as well. I'd given Chaz's wardrobe a serious upgrade courtesy of Pamela faking my signature.The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they all had different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable' attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in the same style as Hana.I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for what she assumed would be my support network, Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesława and Juanita, plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. That made me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, if not comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurant this exclusive.Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcano on the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged."Chaz, Pamela, explain," Buffy seethed."I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back, "Sweet-Cheeks.""They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation and assistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sincere manner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his 'inner- Cáel'."I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from four European nations," he nodded.Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns, I thought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to not have seen it coming."What?" Oili gasped."Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me."Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throw a, shrimp at Oili?""It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "Had Oili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect the item with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do all the time. It is pretty neat to watch.""Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in case another decapod was coming her way."You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison on it," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you. She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odette an 'atta girl' high five."Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "What have you been up to?""Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit, Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These fine women have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be my bodyguards," I made the introductions."They have volunteered to be, basically the 'Hounds of Prince O'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fiancée, Brooke, my close friend, Libra, a sweet & sincere childhood acquaintance, my Mother, Sibeal, my O'Shea aunts, Deidre & Imogen and Kalmarasērmi Buffy."Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy let a smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazon language = my Mountaintop."I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offered me drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces."Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured."Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my life and I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distracting bullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think you are yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted and soft-headed.""I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie, her only 'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel's safety. You should invoke whatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well, because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I will exercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay.""Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette."That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way."Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down."Until ten seconds ago, Yes. Now I want to hand you over to these two," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork."Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requested understanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. All we are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you.""To Us," Buffy snapped. "Cáel's vote doesn't count.""Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and your lack of trust is pissing me off.""Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out of sight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failed to take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to be honest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Color Sergeant wouldn't have let them come here, or near Odette."If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'd miss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch and gentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous cocking) I could have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was a goodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?"Marrying you is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooke teased me. Normally only dead people were made saints."A Servant of, probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table can agree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her joking well."Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered over the women of note (the women at the main table)."Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had been Catholic?"Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, I was given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social level between myself and my fianc . Food would be nice too."Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. A waiter slipped in, took my order, I decided to forgo an appetizer because I was late, then the conversation began."Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my family from Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. I was buying time to get a better read on the women around me."I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion."Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed."Wow, I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely could meet Hana's eyes."I am pregnant with your fianc 's child," Imogen cut to the chase. What she said was delivered on purpose. Imogen wasn't as socially maladjusted as Rachel. The fewer women in my life, the easier the O'Shea would have roping me in. Imogen's words were meant to hurt Hana and drive a wedge between us."You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid her anger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate her feeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute at concealing their surprise."She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of a blatant Imogen, or a pained Hana."No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile. It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. Whatever Imogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does have a child inside her, Havenstone verified it and will have the precise genetic make-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying)."If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who played upon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he was seven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as he witnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy because the people who were hunting me down, the two O'Shea before you and the nine who aren't here, would have used numerous means of torture to verify my death."(Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun)"My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. It was too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. He learned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this table knows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well.""Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick to my son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How could this not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman who has already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of his own maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?""Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you, or I. By all means, make a mockery of my son, your nephew, who has pledged to fight for your life when he should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of you yet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness.""There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of here intact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty," she threatened."Ten?" Brooke whispered."The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with, Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing his child take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her."No.""The Six?" Libra scanned the room."My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. They won't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jump straight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz, Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal.""We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with that proclamation."No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me."Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staff will only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and the rest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck so your best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal with things," Mom clarified."Brooke, Libra, this is a wacko chicks with guns moment," I put things in perspective."Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder."Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for cover and not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. Sorry Sibeal, but I don't know you that well yet.""I understand," Mom agreed.To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model) and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When the maytre dee tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entire extended family with a look alone. Been there, done that, and the maytre dee was nowhere close to being in my league.I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been here before I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her over Constanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would still show up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain.It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in an exposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level of response. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do' non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha.Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her team could keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons were paying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing her how to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances."Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known was Granddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand."Oh, I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If there was a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it."Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll.""That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he has always been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations of dead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans to destroy my Cáel.""I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have. He's a handful and reminds you of your Father, the mass-murdering rapist. And Imogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part of your circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I count a person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there is Valor, there is Hope and my fianc  has both in spades. Do we understand one another?""Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equates to being a threat," Deidre countered."Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me."Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hana has to win, or lose, on her own.""Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people, Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some petty bullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenance made a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous."That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are as dysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat one another as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?""You?" Deidre soothed me."No. Ferko Nyilas', my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taught me to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control over our lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-ass bitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I care for you.""I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all of you know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, I will always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold you responsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and it isn't over yet."If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on the mats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warrior culture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on the line. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without, weapons."We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting over the physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten."My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training. Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat techniques.""Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements, and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough', you begin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such as close-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefield medicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and 'training' expertise.""In my current team, the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania, all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five, each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. The leader had eleven years in.""Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specific mindset. What you need to do is think why you shouldn't kill someone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate, someone close to you might be killed, not just me.""Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions, you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxis take you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicating yourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet.""You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group, to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at my side. Go, take a rest, talk it over, search your souls. Call me if any of you want to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?""Do the other women around you do this, make those choices?" one of the Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw."No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never to return. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to, before they are even considered for the task.""Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. You would never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every way except spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offers resonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path you are taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are of accomplishing your goals.""I, I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses."At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel, Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500 elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead, or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded."One of the three was killed, a head shot, and the remainder left her body where she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had to protect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me is exceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes I was picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified."Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeve and Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel's guests to the lobby." A new pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods she interacted with.I have taken a few mystic liberties:Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress.As for the other new hires:Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter)Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother, Guardian of the Lion Throne)}They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answer to their current predicament, learning your romantic adventure was actually a gory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had been gathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps even understanding, of my actions.Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helena cajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left. Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-public setting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were not close enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them to be in New York on this night."Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance from our Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly, calling the meeting to order.I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, when the struggle began."Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointed out the three 'new hires' who were sticking around."Memasant (Amazon for to speak true)," I answered her. Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before the meeting began, I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects these three for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach it to others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in our native tongue.""I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, we are not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. We aren't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have to be kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Host needs.""We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige of our sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it, who cares? None of them have made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not all gathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?""Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out in a ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down."Put forth your complaint," I responded."You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take the time to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sisters to advance your own prestige.""Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies.""Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operations of our House.""Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side of me. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew I would have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host.""Buffy, are you challenging me?""No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me. She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thus her."Helena, are you challenging me?""No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangers you constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equally hostile tone."Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept any challenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to put your own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over one another for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored. Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1 Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter."Cool beans," I nodded.I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I had pre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandished two weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of my opponents muttered in confusion and resentment."Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilities never had then," Madori protested."Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls to pick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, Daphne Cotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise."Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madori glowered. "Cheating, utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equality and justice?""No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyes narrowed. "How about this, call the Amazon's contact with the Earth & Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue a House obligation?""You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head and actually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen a short spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled."Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not the Goddess of," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust. I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spear enough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my left axe on her shoulder, blade against her throat."Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a 22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance' bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such people weren't crybabies. "Next."Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situation was she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. I readied myself."I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" she put out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes."I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me' written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She put the point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close to my kidney."Yield.""Never.""Yield, or I will kill you."I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist and slammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with both of us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shield trapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.I stood up, blood oozing down my side."Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three more Amazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashed water down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness."Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and all of our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refused to yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when you clearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest of arms."Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous, outsider woman."I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne, don't you dare stand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for your disrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would show both of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People, learn. Learn and keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn, don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success until you take yourself to the cliffs."One of the two newes

Subscribers! Be sure to go to the blog to read the description easier & check out links for this episode!Treat yourself or a loved one! TokyoTreat makes the perfect gift for any occasion. Use code "NOSTALGIA" for $5 off your first #TokyoTreat box through my link: https://team.tokyotreat.com/theanimenostalgiaThis month, we're returning to my Creative Conversations series! In these episodes, I talk to people in various creative fields making things today who were greatly inspired by anime & manga, and are using that inspiration today to make their own cool things. This time, we're talking to Eisner-Nominated comic artist, writer, colorist, and occasional cosplayer Sarah Myer (They/Them)! We discuss how growing up loving cartoons & anime not only had a big impact on their life, but how fandom was a major plot point in their incredible auto-biographical graphic novel Monstrous: A Transracial Adoption Story. We also talk about early fandom memories, cosplay, how both TMNT and Evangelion have always been there for them, and answering your questions! Stream the episode above or  [Direct Download]Subscribe on apple podcasts | Spotify Just a FEW of Sarah's older anime & manga recommendations (listen to the ep for their complete list!): Unico (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Astro Boy 1980 (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Space Pirate Captain Harlock (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Endless Orbit SSX (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Galaxy Express 999 (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Lupin III: The Mystery of Mamo (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Neon Genesis Evangelion (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water (buy at CR Store or Amazon!)Wings of Honneamise (buy on Amazon!)Martian Successor Nadesico (buy on Amazon!) Follow Sarah & their work online!: Sarah's home page with their comic workFollow Sarah on Instagram & BlueskyBuy their graphic novel Monstrous: A Transracial Adoption Story directly from their store! (You can even get it autographed!)Check out their work on the TMNT Saturday Morning Adventures comic series! My theme song music was done by Kerobit! You can find more about them on their website!See how you can get access to behind-the-scenes stuff, early access to the podcast, and a BRAND NEW subscriber exclusive podcast with my new Ko-fi Subscriptions!As always, feel free to leave me your thoughts on this episode or ideas for future episodes here—or email me directly at AnimeNostalgiaPodcast@gmail.com.Thanks for listening!

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