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East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 01

By: OldSarge69



If you are looking for a story filled with sex, then you are probably in the wrong place. I don't write sex stories. I (hopefully) write interesting stories that contain sex. It has been said that women need a reason to have sex, while men just need a place. Like most generalities, that is generally wrong. I think that most people actually need to have a reason to have sex and if they care for each other, if they love each other, then the sex will be even better. All the participants are at least 18.

I would also like to thank BeachBaby179 for her suggestions, insight and numerous contributions to this story. I think she is the premier editor on this website.

Perhaps some explanations are needed before you begin reading. First, there is no romance, nor any sex, in the first chapter. There will be in chapter two, but if you are only interested in reading about sex . . . be forewarned.

Because of the nature of Chapter One, you might question its inclusion under the category of "Romance." I hope you hold off on that until you read all the chapters.

There are a total of five chapters in this, Part 1, of the series. Chapters 1 and 2 have been edited and submitted for publication on Literotica, chapters three through five are being edited and hopefully will be submitted in the next few days. Part 2 of the series has been written, but still needs to be edited.

East Meets West, Part 1, Chapter 1

I have never felt such a helpless feeling of rage and despair. My hands clenched and unclenched in frustration.

I again looked at my watch, for probably the 500th time in the past 90 minutes.

That was how long she had been in emergency surgery.

They told me they would do everything they could, but I had to prepare myself for the worst. She had died twice in the ambulance, but both times they had managed to get her heart beating again.

She had lost so much blood, her blood pressure was almost negligible when she was brought in.

I knew she had compound fractures in both legs, meaning the bones were sticking out, had a collapsed lung, several broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, a broken arm, a fractured skull, a concussion, and swelling of the brain. Her right knee had also been shattered by the impact, and they weren't sure if she would ever be able to walk again . . . assuming she even lived.

I looked at my watch again. Only a minute had passed since the last time.

I got up and started walking, and again my fists were clenching and unclenching. I am used to DOING . . . not WAITING!

This should have been among the happiest days of her life.

She had been accepted into MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) at age 16, and last month earned a degree in nuclear physics at age 19. A four-year degree in nuclear physics in only three years.

Now she had been enjoying her first real break in three years.

As a family we had spent a month at the beach, before returning to our summer home in the North Carolina Mountains.

In just a few more weeks she was to start her job at Oak Ridge National Laboratory, in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

After graduating number one in her class she literally had her choice of any job she wanted, but she wanted Oak Ridge, where her mother worked.

Earlier today, she wanted to drive into town to buy some clothes for her new job.

I offered to drive her, but she knew how much I hated shopping and told me she would be fine.

And I knew she would. She was a very careful driver.

What I had not expected was that a drunk driver would cross over into her lane, and hit her head-on. If only . . . If only . . . If only I had insisted on driving her, I kept torturing myself with the thought that with my experience I could have avoided the wreck.

The other driver was dead, and she almost was.

They had told me that the surgery would take at least four hours, possibly as many as six or eight, so I knew I had a long time to wait. God, I felt so USELESS!

While waiting, I started thinking back.

Now -- since she was a "grown-up," -- she usually called me Jack. That is how most people know me, even though it wasn't actually my real name.

But there was a time when she would call me Daddy Jack, and sometimes she would forget and still call me that.

There had been other times in the past -- during especially playful or tender moments -- when she would simply call me Daddy.

And again, there were times when she would forget she was now a "grown-up," and still call me simply Daddy. Is there a more glorious word in the world than simply, "Daddy?"

This was despite the fact we weren't actually related. But no man has ever loved a step-daughter more than I loved this incredible young lady. And I knew she loved me as well.

I continued to reflect back on the past seven years.

Every story has to have an ending. Some endings haven't been written yet, but nevertheless, every story has to have an eventual ending. I just prayed her ending wasn't here yet.

Every story has to have a middle.

And, most importantly, every story has to have a beginning.

But where do you begin?

Do you begin with the first time I saw her seven years ago?

The first time I saw her she was only 12, and looked more like an eight-year-old based on her size. She was also very shy and bashful, not unusual when considering all that she had gone through at such an early age.

All I could see was one beautiful, jade-green eye, hiding behind her mother's waist, and rather short, jet black hair.

She stole my heart that very first day, especially when she started giggling as I performed a stupid little magic trick.

When I pulled a silver dollar out of her ear, she laughed out loud and then threw her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. And I was a goner!

I suppose the story could begin there, or it could begin about three months before that.

On the day I had been ordered to kill her mother.

Technically the orders were "Extract or Eliminate." Meaning if I could extract, or get her out of the situation she was in, without any risk to myself, then I was free to do so, but if there was the slightest risk, then my orders were quite specific: Eliminate the target!

I would soon find out there were significant, almost overwhelming risks, so my orders left no room for doubt.

That day, her mother was the target. My job was to follow orders, and . . . well there is no other word for it . . . kill.

Those were orders I had performed many, many times before.

When I first saw her mother, I was looking through the scope of my sniper rifle. I already had the cross-hairs lined up on her face, and had started applying even steady pressure to the trigger.

From my position only a few hundred feet away, this would have been one of the easiest shots I had ever taken.

At this point in my life, I already had over 200 confirmed kills, so one more shouldn't have bothered me at all.

But I couldn't pull the trigger!

So, do I explain why I couldn't kill her mother, as the beginning of this story?

Or do I go back even further?

You should always begin a story at the beginning, but which beginning?

I have already told you most people, including my wife and my step-daughter, call me Jack. But that isn't the name I was born with, just the one I use most often.

I had been born in the backwoods of western North Carolina, deep in the mountains. My name, then, was Jonathan Wilson. But it has been so many years since I have considered myself by that name, it is actually easier for me to talk about "him" in the third person.

Jonathan Wilson joined the Marine Corps shortly after his mother had been killed in a traffic accident on a winding mountain road in North Carolina.

His brother, Samuel Jr., who was two years older, had also joined the Marines, but had been killed in Iraq when his vehicle hit a roadside IED (Improvised Explosive Device).

Their father, Samuel Sr., had been killed in a mining accident in West Virginia many, many years earlier.

Jonathan had grown up in the mountains of North Carolina and West Virginia and hunting was not only a way of life, it was a necessity. There had been many nights where the only thing that kept the family fed were the rabbits, squirrels, wild turkeys and deer the brothers killed during the day, before or after school.

Bullets cost money, and as a family, the Wilsons had very little money, bullets or anything else.

It was imperative that each bullet Jonathan and Sam Jr., used hit its target. A miss, and there might not be any food on the table. Sam, Jr., was a very good shot. Jonathan was a lot better.

When one of the brothers killed a turkey or deer, they would often sell it for money to buy flour, sugar, coffee, and of course, more bullets. Rabbits, squirrels and birds provided the bulk of the food that kept the family alive.

One thing Jonathan's Mom had insisted on, though, was that both boys complete high school. She couldn't read or write, but she made damn sure her sons could.

After Sam Jr., left for the Marines, Jonathan was the sole provider for himself and his Mom. Until she was killed on an icy road one winter.

As soon as Jonathan turned 18, he enlisted. Most of his time at Boot Camp, in Paris Island, S.C., had been pretty average. He was neither the best recruit nor the worst.

It wasn't until Jonathan's platoon starting firing weapons that he really began distinguishing himself.

During that week-long rifle training, and qualifying, people began to notice how well -- how incredibly well -- Jonathan could fire a weapon. The first time he fired an M-16, he put 24 bullets, out of a clip of 25, inside a six-inch target. That one errant shot (the first one) was about an inch outside.

When they gave him another clip, he put all 25 rounds inside a four-inch circle. On his third clip, he put all 25 rounds inside a three-inch circle.

After that, there was little doubt where Jonathan would end up. Following boot camp, and Advanced Infantry Training at Camp Lejeune, N.C., he attended Marine Corps Sniper School where he broke every record for accuracy the Marines had.

Jonathan also went on to win the Marine Corps Rifle Championship and followed that up by winning the Annual Interservice Rifle Championship, competing against the very best shooters from the Marines, Navy, Air Force and Army.

One year to the day after joining the Marines, Jonathan made his first confirmed kill in Iraq. During the next year and three months, 150 other confirmed kills followed. Some from a distance of nearly a mile.

Shortly after his second anniversary as a Marine, Jonathan was visited by a couple of agents from an obscure department of the CIA. He was given the opportunity to not just take out lower-level enemy combatants, but also go after the leaders of different terrorist organizations.

As far as the world is concerned, Corporal Jonathan Wilson "died" in Iraq. I have actually been to "his" grave. That was really bizarre. The fact that Jonathan had no close living relatives meant no one would really miss him that much.

And that also meant almost no one would ever be able to remark that a research analyst -- an independent contractor for the Department of Defense -- named Jack Collins looked an awful lot like Jonathan Wilson.

As the CIA explained to me, while we were making up our fake history of Jack Collins, the best lie is mostly truth. So Jack Collins was also from the mountains of North Carolina, had served in the Marine Corps and earned a Silver Star and Purple Heart (and I had received both), but following the end of "his" enlistment, started working for the Department of Defense.

During the next two years, I became AL-Qaeda's and the Taliban's worst nightmare. Over 50 confirmed kills, all of high ranking members of those organizations.

Of course when I traveled out of the country on assignment, I had my choice of five other passports to travel under. Each of those five identities included a complete cover story, and a variety of credit cards under those five different names.

I was well aware of the risks. If I had ever been picked up, in any country in the Middle East, the U.S. Government would deny any knowledge of my existence. And if my fingerprints happened to match those of a former Marine . . . well, that guy had died years ago!

Why did the government go to so much trouble to establish a new identity for me? Well, you have to understand that according to Executive Order 12333 (signed by President Gerald Ford in 1975 and reauthorized by every president since then), the United States does NOT perform assassinations.

The list of people we don't assassinate includes not only heads of state either military or civilian, but even extends to criminal drug lords or heads of terrorist organizations.

So those 50-plus people who were no longer among the living, well they were not assassinated by the United States. They were either "killed" by people within their own organizations, or possibly some lone nut.

One of the most important things for the United States Government was what has been termed "plausible deniability." And what could be more deniable than having records, and even a grave, showing Jonathan Wilson was dead? Must be some mix up on the part of anyone who might ever make the charge that Jonathan Wilson had ever killed anyone!

If I were captured, my life wouldn't be worth a plug nickel. All I could expect was hours of some of the most sadistic torture ever devised. So I had my own little pill I could quickly crunch between my teeth. I have been told it was both quick and painless.

While there were great risks, there were also compensating rewards. In the Marines, I "eliminated" targets for free, other than my military pay. As a civilian, I got paid for it. Handsomely.

As a civilian, my usual fee for each confirmed kill of a primary target was $50,000, although it could go as high as $100,000 based on the difficulty of the assignment. You do the math, even assuming the lower figure: 50 confirmed kills of primary targets, times $50,000. There were also smaller bonuses for the 10 other "targets of opportunity" I had chalked up. My "official" salary as a research analyst also paid $90,000 a year.

I had only been back in the U.S. for less than a week, after an especially difficult mission. I had spent five difficult days on a mountain peak in Afghanistan, just waiting for one particular target to show up.

Contrary to popular belief, accurate shooting -- while essential -- is usually the least of the job about being a sniper.

The secret to being a sniper is patience. If your location, high up on a mountain, is baked in the noonday heat, just be patient. If it is well below freezing at night, just be patient.

The best description of what it is like to be a sniper was written by French novelist Honore de Balzac, and is not even about a sniper. Balzac was actually writing about the life of a spy, when he penned these words: "The trade of a spy is a very fine one, when the spy is working on his own account. Is it not in fact enjoying the excitements of a thief, while retaining the character of an honest citizen? But a man who undertakes this trade must make up his mind to simmer with wrath, to fret with impatience, to stand about in the mud with his feet freezing, to be chilled or to be scorched, and to be deceived by false hopes. (Oh, yes, there was always that little possibility!) He must be ready, on the faith of a mere indication, to work up to an unknown goal; he must bear the disappointment of failing in his aim; he must be prepared to run, to be motionless, to remain for long hours watching a window; to invent a thousand theories of action . . ."

Someone once said that "all good things come to him that waits," or something like that. That is especially true for snipers. After five days of alternating between baking during the day and freezing at night, I had a six-second window of opportunity while my target walked from his vehicle to an old abandoned warehouse.

Although it was not necessary, I could have put six rounds into a target during a single six-second period of time. Scratch one Taliban! I had also taken out two other "targets of opportunity," and while they didn't pay as much as the primary target, it was still a nice bonus.

This last mission had been my third in a month, and I was overdue for some time off.

I spent a week at the beach, and now I was back home in my government furnished house in North Carolina. I was supposed to have at least two more weeks down time before being assigned my next target. That was where the "research analyst" came into play, because I would start researching the best way to eliminate that target.

I had just been getting ready to go to bed one night when my secure satellite phone rang.

And my life changed forever.

As far as I knew, only two people on earth had the number to the phone, so I knew it would be a scrambled call. After pressing the start button I initiated the sequencing feature so both phones could scramble, and then unscramble the conversation.

The conversation began, as it always does, with my code name.

"Ghost, we have a situation, and the NSA has asked for our help," I heard my boss, Colonel James say. I have no idea if he is actually a colonel or not, since I have never met him. Our only contact came via the phone.

My codename -- Ghost -- because almost no one sees me enter or leave, but I always manage to scare the hell out of the bad guys.

NSA is short for National Security Agency, and they are tasked with gathering intelligence and analyzing whether the intelligence presents a threat to the United States. Although the NSA specializes in listening to foreign communications, they are frequently also asked to coordinate intelligence obtained in other ways, and to compare those to known threats.

As usual, the Colonel did most of the talking, and I did most of the listening.

"Just minutes ago, NSA received a distress signal from one of our safe houses, which is in your area," he said, "and now they are unable to communicate with anyone at the safe house."

I knew that as a general rule, if anyone is staying at a safe house, either for protection or debriefing, no fewer than three agents would be assigned. Depending on the importance of the person involved, or on the suspected threat level, that number could be increased to six or nine.

A couple of times I had been called to help provide security for safe houses in and around Washington, D.C.

The Colonel gave me an address, and I realized with a shock that the house was less than a mile from mine. The property that house sat on actually backed up to my property.

Suddenly it made sense to me why I was operating out of a house in the North Carolina Mountains. As much as I loved the mountains, I had never really understood why I was so far from any major, or even large city.

"It will take NSA as least an hour-and-a-half to get a team out there," he added. I knew that unless they flew in on helicopters that was probably a very optimistic time frame.

"So what is the mission Colonel?" I asked.

"Two-fold," he answered, "Evaluate the risk, then based on that make your own judgment. Either extract, or eliminate," he added.

We both knew what he was saying.

If an actual penetration of a safe house had occurred, that almost automatically meant that the custodians, as they were called, were probably dead. And if those three, or more agents were dead, then it was extremely high risk.

I was being told -- in polite terms but very clearly -- to eliminate.

There was no way that one man, no matter how good he might be with a sniper rifle, could take on a force good enough, or strong enough, to have killed or overpowered multiple highly trained agents. Especially in terrain he was not completely familiar with.


East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 01



"Who am I looking for?" I asked.

"All I can tell you at this point," he answered, "is a young, female Chinese national who just defected. I don't have photos or anything else I can email you at this point."

"Acknowledge, Evaluate, then Extract or Eliminate," I affirmed.

Even though both the Colonel and I knew there was only going to be one outcome from this mission, we were both adhering to the unspoken rules about believing there might be another ending.

I immediately ran down to my basement, and grabbed everything I thought I might need.

That include camouflage clothing, my sniper rifle and scope, a 9mm silenced Glock 17, and a Heckler and Koch UMP sub-machine gun, the successor to their MP5. The UMP also fired 9mm rounds. I grabbed a half-dozen 30-round clips, along with my night vision glasses, and the infra-reds as well.

My sniper rifle is not the Marine Corps issued one I used in Afghanistan. In fact, I had purchased it after my first few missions for the CIA. I had nearly missed a shot and knew I needed something with a longer range.

The British, who invented it, simply call it -- with typical understated British reserve -- "The Long Range Rifle." Everyone else calls it L115A3. It fires an 8.59mm bullet which is heavier than the old 7.62mm round I had been using. The heavier bullet is less likely to be deflected over extremely long ranges. It had cost me over $50,000 and was worth every penny.

The rifle itself, loaded, weighs about 15 pounds but its accuracy more than makes up for its weight. The folding stock reduces its length, making it easier to carry in a backpack. It also includes a built-in sound suppressor which reduces both flash and noise, but there is no such thing as a truly silenced weapon.

Within minutes I had started jogging towards the safe house.

There was a medium-high, fairly steep hill between our two houses. If you were anywhere but in the mountains, most people would have said the hill qualified as a mountain on its own, but here in the actual mountains we usually referred to something this size as a hill.

I knew if there were any bad guys there, they would be expecting trouble to come from the road. I would be coming in the back door, down a mountain.

After I crested the hill, I immediately started checking out the house through both the night vision glasses and the infra-reds. The night vision glasses would amplify any light, making the grounds nearly as bright as daytime, although everything would look green.

The infra-red glasses would pick up any heat coming from a defender lying in wait for me.

There were lights coming from the house, but I could not see anyone outside, so I started slowly making my way closer. I was probably about a half-mile from the house, and about 500 feet higher.

About 250 feet from the house, and down about 400 feet from the hilltop, I found a large boulder about the size of a washing machine. I crouched down and made sure I had a good line-of-sight on the house. I was now looking at the side of the house, rather than from straight back.

I immediately spotted two "bogies," inside the house at ground level.

At this point, I didn't know if they were the good guys or the bad guys, but I could see both appeared to be armed with assault rifles. Not a good sign.

After checking all the other downstairs windows in my line of vision, I began tracking upstairs where I could see light coming from what I assumed was a bedroom window.

I immediately saw two men, standing with their backs to the windows.

One guy was huge. He had to be at least 300 pounds, and towered over the second man, who was standing slightly to his right. The second guy was nearly a foot shorter, and was really thin and scrawny.

Short-thin was standing about a foot in front of big-fat, and had one hand in front of him, looking as though he was holding someone or something. I saw his hand jerk downward, then he stepped back towards the window and moved a little to his right until he and big-fat were about a foot apart..

I could see he was holding what looked like a dress.

And in the space between the two men, I could see that I had found my target!

The Colonel had said, "Young, female Chinese," and she was definitely all of that. If the Colonel had added extraordinarily beautiful, then that would certainly have applied as well.

I could see that her hands were behind her back, and I had to assume her hands were tied together, or perhaps she was wearing handcuffs.

Aside from the possible rope or handcuffs the only other thing she wore was a pair of panties!

When I first saw her through the scope, I almost assumed she had to be a young child, since she was so tiny, and her breasts were so small. But as I began studying her more through the scope, I realized I was probably wrong in my initial assessment. She had a very narrow waist, widening to very shapely hips, and I could see that her legs were thin, but very well-muscled.

As I began moving the cross-hairs of the scope upward, I again stopped when I came up to her breasts. Yes, her breasts were definitely small, but perfectly shaped and firm. I could also see that her nipples were hard. I guessed her body was reacting to fear.

As I brought the cross-hairs up across her torso to her face, I realized this was not a child, but a young, and as I have mentioned, extraordinarily beautiful woman.

Just based on her face, I upped the estimate of her age to about 18 or 19.

She was bleeding from a cut on her lower lip, and I could see a small bruise just under her eye. Apparently short-thin had already done more than just rip her dress off.

I could also tell that she was angry, and guessed she was probably cussing out the smaller of the two men, since she was looking at him and apparently yelling.

Short-thin then struck her across the face, opening up the cut on her lip some more.

But again, rather than cower in fear, she seemed to be getting angrier.

I really spent more time than I normally would just watching the young woman, and realized that I had a job to do, and needed to hurry up and get it done.

My orders were quite specific. If there was any kind of risk -- and at least four armed men meant there was a big risk -- then I was to eliminate the young lady.

There was virtually no wind, and I would be shooting downhill. From my spot on the hillside, I estimated I was about 250 feet from the house, and probably 25 or 30 feet higher up. It would be a slight downward shot, but not difficult at all.

I again sighted in on her face, and was beginning my normal routine before making a shot, which always included my saying, under my breath, "Well, folks, it's show time!"

As almost always happens to me, in those 60 to 90 seconds before I pull the trigger, I entered an almost otherworldly state.

It first started happening when I was hunting for food in the mountains, then seemed to grow stronger at Paris Island in Marine Corps Boot Camp and by the time I completed my first mission in Iraq, it had become part and parcel of who and what I was.

Usually, just a minute or so before "eliminating" someone, time just seemed to slow down.

In addition, I would have an almost otherworldly feeling of supreme clarity.

I would suddenly start hearing sounds that I knew I would otherwise never been able to hear.

I could smell odors that I would never have been able to smell before.

And I could see everything with an absolute crystal clarity. Colors were more vibrant and intense.

As intense as those feelings had been in the past, they were almost nothing to what I was experiencing now.

I was focusing every fiber of my being through the scope of my rifle, and yet I was also aware of everything that surrounded me.

I could hear a mouse moving in the leaves 40 or 50 feet away. How I knew it was a mouse was something I could not tell you, but I knew.

I could hear the wings of an owl swooping down to snare that mouse, even though it is almost impossible to hear an owl fly. I heard a terrified squeak coming from the mouse as it was caught in the owl's talons.

I heard other forest denizens reacting to that mouse's cry of terror as they begin searching for hidden threats.

Even though I was several hundred feet away I could hear the two men in the downstairs part of the house move around, and I could hear the angry words from the Chinese woman as she berated her captors. The window was closed and yet I could clearly hear every word. I didn't speak Chinese, but if I did I could have understood everything she was saying.

I heard a toilet flush in the downstairs part of the house, then water running in a sink. A few seconds later I heard a door close, then the men downstairs spoke to each other. Without even being entirely conscious of it, I now knew there were three men downstairs, plus the two upstairs.

Were there any more outside? If there were, then they would have to wait. I knew there was no one close to me, and that was the only thing that was important at the moment.

I was preparing to take my shot, using what I had learned at Paris Island, and Marine Corps Sniper School. There was NO possibility of my missing. I was only 250 feet from the house and was using a rifle capable of hitting a target a mile away.

The Long Range Rifle has a muzzle velocity of 936 meters per second. That means when the bullet comes out of the barrel it is supersonic, traveling 936 meters per second or over 3,000 feet per second, or roughly triple the speed of sound.

That means even before I can take my finger off the trigger, the woman would be dead.

The Marine Corps called it the BRASS system of shooting.

B -- Breathe. I took a deep breath.

R -- Relax. I exhaled.

A -- Aim. I was already dead on target.

S -- Slack. Take up any slack in the trigger.

S -- Squeeze. I was already beginning to squeeze the trigger when the most extraordinary thing happened.

She stopped talking and looked over at the window.

Suddenly I was looking right into her eyes from a couple hundred feet away.

She was in a situation that should have terrified her, and yet I could see no fear in her eyes. Instead I could see anger and defiance, and then a look I could only call relief.

She actually gave a half-smile, then slightly nodded her head up and down.

I would have sworn that somehow she could see me, and was telling me to go ahead and shoot, that it would be a relief and infinitely preferable to what would otherwise lay in store for her.

Even as I was thinking that thought, I knew how utterly impossible it was. It was night, I was quite a distance away, and was so well hidden that if someone was walking just five feet away from me, they would have never seen me.

It was impossible that this woman could know I was there, and yet I somehow felt she knew. And she was telling me to shoot.

Instead, I shifted the cross-hairs over to big-fat, and squeezed off a round into the back of his head. In less than a second, I had chambered another round, and squeezed this off into the torso of short-thin.

Big-fat's head had exploded, throwing pieces of skull and brains all over the room. Before his body could even start falling, the chest of short-thin erupted, blowing blood, pieces of spine and rib cage fragments across the room. An 8.59mm round makes a big hole going in, and an enormous hole coming out.

The two shots were so close together, they probably sounded as a single discharge.

The lights immediately went out in the living room of the house.

Fighting against every instinct I had, which was to get as far away as possible, as quickly as I could, I continued to study the young woman in the bedroom,

She, quite literally, was covered in gore. Brains and blood from big-fat, and blood and pieces of bone from short-thin were covering her upper torso and face.

I had expected her to collapse in terror, but again I was amazed to see no fear.

Instead, she took a step backward until she hit the bed with the backs of her legs. She immediately laid down on the bed and raised her legs high into the air and brought her hands down over her panty clad buttocks and slipped first one, then the other leg through until her hands were in front of her.

It looked as though she had zip-ties on each wrist, with another zip-tie connecting them together.

She ran over to both bodies, knelt down, and when she stood up she had pistols in both hands.

She ran back over to the bed, put both pistols down and turned towards the window again.

She held up five fingers on one hand, plus a single finger from the other.

Then she held up two fingers, and then made a slashing motion in the air, and pointed to the two men I had killed.

She then held up three fingers, and pointed to her feet.

Finally, she held up one finger and made a circular motion around her head.

I knew she was telling me there were a total of six men. Two were now dead, three were downstairs in the house, and one was somewhere outside. I had only seen two men downstairs, but had heard another, and she was confirming that third man was there.

It was the most surreal experience I have ever had.

How did she know I was there?

How did she know I was still there?

I was still watching her and continued to be amazed at the courage this woman was displaying.

She grabbed both pistols, ran over to the bedroom door and I saw her lock it from inside. She then walked very carefully to another door, which I assumed was the bathroom. She opened that door, and ducked inside.

Within seconds of her entering the bathroom, the inside walls of the bedroom starting coming apart.

Have you ever seen what a sub-machine gun, on full automatic, can do to a sheetrock wall?

I have, and it can utterly destroy it in seconds.

I was assuming that at least two, if not all three, men from downstairs were now in the hallway outside the bedroom, firing through the walls. I could only suppose they had called out to the men inside, and stated firing when they received no answer.

The room was soon filled with dust and debris from the sheetrock walls.

I still didn't know where the outside man was hiding, but had to assume he was somewhere down near the road.

I was already making so many assumptions tonight that I knew sooner or later one of those assumptions was probably going to come back and bite me in the ass.

I knew that by now the girl should be dead and I should be at least a half-mile away from the house, and yet here I was -- acting like a complete idiot -- still hanging around with at least four armed and very dangerous men and a girl hiding in the bathroom.

I was still looking inside the bedroom through my high-powered scope. From the window I could see the door, which I had to assume was the only way into the room.

There is that damned word again -- assumed.

I had been taught over and over and over again to NEVER assume anything!

If I were inside the house, waiting to come inside the bedroom and kill anyone there, I knew how I would play it.

In Hollywood a guy always kicks open the door, then calmly walks inside moving his weapon back and forth ready to kill anyone who moves.

In the real world -- my world -- there is a word for the kind of man who kicks open a door, then walks upright through the middle of the door. That word is corpse.

I would wait 30 or 40 seconds for the worst of the dust to settle, and IF all three inside men were actually in the hallway, one man would kick open the door while the other two would duck-walk through the door, or roll in, with guns blazing.

If I were in charge that is what would happen. I had to assume (damn that word), these were professionals and they would react in a similar manner. I also had to assume they would expect me to be long gone.

I waited for nearly 40 seconds, then fired one shot just to the right of the door, about three feet off the floor. I immediately chambered another round and fired it just to the left of the door, again about three feet off the ground.

That was when I was shot!

A barrage of automatic weapons fire started peppering the rock I was using as a shield.

One bullet hit me high on the right shoulder, barely grazing the skin, while another passed through the fleshly part of my upper right arm.

Whoever was shooting may not have known EXACTLY where I was, but he had a pretty good idea!

I started sliding backward, behind more of the rock. The entire time the rock continued to be peppered by bullets. A brief respite told me he was reloading.

Mentally, I had to shift gears. I was no longer the hunter, but now the hunted.

Again, if I were out there, how would I play it?

As a research analyst, my life depended on analyzing his movements during the next minute or two.

I quickly determined that while I may have been shot -- not too sure just how serious yet -- I actually liked my odds better than his.

I still had my sniper scope, still had my night vision glasses and had to assume he had a pair as well, and I also had my infra-red glasses. The fact that I was still alive was a pretty good indication he did not have infra-red glasses.

If he had been using infra-red glasses, he could easily have picked up my heat signature and zeroed all his fire directly towards me. Instead he was shooting back and forth across the rock, trying to keep me pinned down. I had to assume (God, I hate that word), that he was also advancing while firing.

I continued to slide backward, up the slope, trying to keep the rock between me and where I thought the fire was coming from. I remembered passing a large oak tree on my way down, and it wasn't long until my feet hit the tree.

Once my feet hit the tree, I shifted around and quickly ducked behind it.

After that, well it became just another day at the office.

Thirty seconds later I started going back down the hill, towards the house. I quickly passed what was left of my assailant, not stopping until I was only about 50 feet from the house where I again hid behind a large tree.

I had taken out half the enemy forces, but now had no idea what was going on inside the house.

Even while sliding backward up the slope, I had heard gunfire coming from inside the house. It was rather surprising but the shots seemed to be coming from a pistol or pistols rather than automatic fire from a sub-machine gun.

Violating every principle I had ever been taught about remaining hidden until you know what you are up against, I called out to whoever was inside.

"Hello in the house. Are you okay?" I yelled, very loudly.

I was fully expecting another barrage of gunfire, but instead -- after a few seconds of silence -- I heard a woman's voice.

"Yes," came an answer, in English.

"Five dead inside," I heard, in heavily accented Chinese.

"I have one dead outside," I replied. "Are you sure there were only six?"

When she answered affirmatively, I began cautiously walking towards the house.

Once again, I was assuming (I HATE that word) that no one was holding a gun to her head and making her tell me what I wanted to hear. Somehow I knew she wouldn't bow to that kind of threat.

As I walked onto the porch, the front door opened, and she stepped outside.

She was still covered in brains and blood, still only wearing a pair of panties.

She was also light gray from head to toe with what I realized was sheetrock dust.

And even more remarkable, she was still beautiful! Even covered in blood and brains and dust, she was still beautiful!

I am only about 5 feet, 9 inches tall, but I was probably nine inches taller than she was. I doubt that she could have weighed more than 85 or 90 pounds.

I was not sure what kind of reception I would receive from this young lady after saving her life, but the reception I got was NOT what I was expecting.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 01



She walked up to me, looked at me for a minute, and then slapped me -- hard!

"Why you not take shot, you stupid, stupid man?" she demanded in heavily accented English, "You should shoot me, you should kill me!"

Then she began shaking, and tears started streaming down her face, leaving tracks through the sheetrock dust. I think she had probably just realized how very close she had come to dying, either at my hands or the hands of the two men upstairs.

She threw her arms around me.

"Thank you for not kill me! But you still stupid, stupid man," she sobbed.

As her arms tightened around me and my upper right arm, I flinched and gasped in pain.

She stepped back, then grabbed my right hand. By now blood was running down my arm and dripping off my hand onto the porch. Actually a lot more blood than I had first thought.

"You shot?" she asked.

When I nodded, she started pulling me inside the house. When I began protesting that we had to get away and we could take care of my wound later, she again told me I was "stupid, stupid man. You bleed, I fix!"

Once inside she helped me remove my camo jacket, shirt and t-shirt. The safe house had enough medicine on hand that it could nearly have qualified as a small pharmacy. As she began treating my wounds, she begin to talk and explain what had happened upstairs.

After locking the door to the bedroom, she had run into the bathroom where she knew there was a cast-iron tub. That bathroom served two bedrooms. Taking refuge in the tub, she waited until the shooting had stopped, then ran into the next bedroom.

She still had both pistols, and her plan was to wait until they kicked in the door of the first bedroom, then dive into the hallway and open fire.

She said that one of my shots had killed one of the men, but the second round missed. Both of the surviving men, however, were concentrating so intently on the first bedroom, that they failed to hear her open the door of the second bedroom.

Firing both weapons, she had quickly killed both men. She also found a knife in one of their pockets and cut the zip-ties.

She had just made her way downstairs when I called out.

I was simply amazed at both the courage she had shown, and the presence of mind she was still showing.

She had been taken prisoner by six men, handcuffed, slapped several times, had her dress ripped off, saw two men killed right in front of her, killed two more by herself and was now treating my wounds about as calmly as could be.

Yes, her hands were shaking a little, but they were still fastening the bandages with swift, sure motions.

Once she had finished, I said "Thank you."

It was at about this point when both of us realized she was naked, except for a pair of panties!

Okay, okay, that is obviously a lie on my part.

Even as she had been talking, I had been VERY aware she was almost naked. And beautiful.

She suddenly blushed, and became flustered for a minute.

I simply handed her my shirt -- which was about 10 times too large -- and she quickly slipped it on. The fact that one sleeve was covered in blood apparently didn't bother her. Of course SHE was still covered in blood and brains herself!

I introduced myself, and asked for her name. Then I questioned her about why she was at the safe house, about the six men we had killed, and what had happened to the security detail.

Her name was Jiao, which I later found out means in Mandarin, "delicate, tender and beautiful." She was certainly beautiful, but her actions and composure so far tonight did not really indicated either delicate or tender. If I had known a Mandarin Chinese word for both strong and tough as nails, then I might have started calling her that.

She had been at the safe house for a week, being debriefed following her defection to the United States. She was a nuclear physicist, which meant I again had to revise my estimate of her age.

When I first saw her through my scope I guessed she was about 13 or 14. I immediately revised that to about 18 or 19, but now I was guessing she must be 23 or 24.

Jiao and the two members of the debriefing team (one man, one woman) had been eating a late meal when Colonel Shin, with the Ministry of State Security (MSS), had walked into the house holding a pistol. I knew MSS was roughly equivalent to the old Soviet KGB -- one of the deadliest and most feared agencies in the world.

"He knew their names," Jiao said, which startled the hell out of me.

"Not only their names, but names of guards, and schedules," she added.

I now knew this was a lot bigger even than the breach of a safe house, deep inside the United States.

For the MSS to know the location of a safe house was one thing, but to also know who was heading the debriefing team, know the guard's names and even their schedules meant he had to have a source deep within the U.S. Intelligence community.

"We need to get the hell out of here -- Now!" I warned her, "but first I have to try to destroy all evidence of what happened here tonight."

That was when Jiao told me the Colonel was also planning on destroying the house, and had brought a lot of plastic explosives with him as well.

While Shin was holding Jiao and the debriefing team at gunpoint, another member of the team drove an SUV up beside the house. The explosives were still in the SUV.

Jiao and I ran outside to the SUV and grabbed everything we could, and I began placing explosives throughout the house, attaching a remote controlled detonator to each one. That was one advantage to dealing with professionals -- they had brought everything they would need, and now everything I would need, with them.

I also found a large propane tank mostly buried outside. Since there were no natural gas lines in this part of the mountains, the only heating options during winter were wood or propane. I placed one charge directly on top of the propane tank.

Jiao also helped me drag the body of the dead MSS member inside the house, since one of my arms was now almost useless.

She had also told me that the other members of the MSS team had already put the bodies of the three security guards, plus both members of the debriefing team in the basement. That meant there were now 11 dead bodies inside the house, five Americans and six Chinese.

From what Jiao was now telling me, Colonel Shin had told her that if she did not let his men handcuff her, then he would shoot the two debriefers.

"But once they handcuff me, he just shoot them," she said, "didn't ask questions, just shoot."

Once we had the explosives set, I told Jiao to go get extra clothing for herself and very quickly she returned with a small overnight bag. She had also taken a moment to wipe the worst of the blood and sheetrock dust from her face.

I also used the time to virtually empty the "pharmacy" into another bag.

Within 10 minutes, Jiao and I were a half-mile away, on top of the ridge between the safe house and my house.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out their digital detonator, and activated it.

The tremendous explosion nearly knocked us both off our feet, and an enormous fireball filled the night sky. From half-a-mile away I could feel the heat.

We stood on top of the ridge for a few minutes, just looking at the incredible carnage.

I knew that, even as remote as we were, an explosion of that size, along with the fireball, would soon have every emergency and law enforcement unit in the county on their way.

Then Jiao reached over and held my hand. She was now shaking a lot more!

Finally I turned to her and again told her that we "need to get the hell out of here."

Still holding hands, we started down my side of the mountain. My side was a lot steeper, with more treacherous footings, so I continued to hold her hand as I helped her make her way downhill.



East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 02



When we reached my house, I was shocked to notice that less than an hour had elapsed since getting the phone call from Colonel James. It seemed like hours and hours had passed.

I put Jiao to work loading canned food into boxes, and had her start taking them out to my SUV. Meanwhile I went back to the basement, and grabbed as many weapons and as much ammo as I could carry with one arm. I had to make several trips, and finally had to ask Jiao to help me.

Within a few minutes the SUV was loaded, but I still needed to do one more thing.

I grabbed my sat phone, and called the colonel once we were on the road.

"Ghost here Sir. I have extracted. I repeat, I have extracted," I told him.

When the colonel asked about collateral damage, I knew what he meant.

"Three custodians and two sitters are down," I said. We often called the members of the debriefing team "sitters."

"Plus six members of Chinese MSS," I added, and waited for the explosion I knew would follow.

I didn't have long to wait.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Jac . . . Ghost," he yelled. "Did you say six MSS members?"

The Colonels near slip of using my real name instead of my code name told me exactly how angry he really was. Normally, even on a secure line, we never used anything but code names, and never discussed anything that could in any way identify either of us.

After I answered affirmatively, the colonel had a few more words for me.

"What fucking part of 'no fucking unnecessary fucking risks' don't you fucking understand Ghost?" he yelled.

I didn't even bother responding, but looked over at Jiao and grinned. The colonel was easily yelling loud enough for Jiao to hear as well.

She looked back at me, pointed a finger at me and silently mouthed, "Stupid, stupid man," then gave me a small grin of her own.

"What is the situation at the house now?" the colonel finally asked.

"I blew it to hell and back," I told him. "The safe house, and all evidence of what happened here tonight, is gone."

"At least you did one thing right tonight," he grudgingly admitted.

But when the colonel said he needed to call NSA and find out where they wanted me to take the target, I told him that would not be a good idea.

"Colonel, MSS knew the names of all five people there. Both the debriefing team, and the guards. And not only names, but their schedules, and when a replacement team would be coming in," I told him.

For the second time that night, the colonel took the Lord's name in vain.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Ghost," he said, "that means we, or at least NSA, has a traitor."

"Looks that way, Sir," I agreed.

"In fact, about the only person I trust right now is you, Colonel," I added, "and I don't even know what you look like."

When the Colonel asked if I had any info on the MSS members, I handed the phone to Jiao. She introduced herself, and was able to tell him Colonel Shin's full name and which office he worked for, since Shin had boasted about that. She was also able to provide good descriptions of four others, and a couple of names as well. She had never seen the outside man until after she helped drag him into the house.

When Jiao handed the phone back to me, Colonel James had a question.

"How are you going to play this, Ghost," he asked.

One of the things I most liked about the Colonel was he didn't try to micromanage his field agents. Once he had given me an assignment, while he might have suggestions about how to proceed, he left the actual details to me.

He trusted me to do what needed to be done.

"In two weeks I will contact you Colonel," I informed him, "hopefully that will give you time to find the traitor, but until then I am officially off the grid."

"Uh, one final thing Colonel," I added, "let everyone know if I see anyone, or hear about anyone trying to find us, then I will assume they are NOT friendly. In fact, I will assume they are working for MSS."

"And I am still the best damned sniper you have!"

Let someone else worry about that damned word "assume!"

"Understood, and agreed, Ghost," the Colonel said. Like I said, the Colonel pretty much gave his men free reign to conduct operations how they best felt it should be handled.

A few minutes later, the several thousand dollar sat phone lay at the bottom of a small creek, and I had both turned off, and removed the battery to my cell phone. I knew that NSA would have been able to track my location if they could get the number to the phone, unless I removed the battery.

Six hours later, just as dawn was breaking, I pulled into a convenience store in the outskirts of Frankfort, Kentucky.

Jiao had actually slept most of the way. I could tell it was not exactly a peaceful, relaxing sleep since she would frequently jerk or gasp out loud while sleeping. Each time she would wake up and look wildly around her until she realized where she was.

Then she would look over at me and give me a smile, then close her eyes once again.

I went inside the convenience store and got a couple of cups of coffee, and a cold six-pack of cokes along with a cooler, and a variety of snacks, as well as eggs, bacon, bread and a package of both coffee and tea. Jiao stayed in the SUV, but took the opportunity to clean herself up more with some sanitary wipes I always keep in the glove compartment.

Although I had several thousand dollars in cash with me, I deliberately paid for a fill-up with a credit card in my . . . well Jack Collins' name.

Then I turned around and started driving back to North Carolina.

I wanted everyone to think we were headed someplace up north to hide, when in reality I planned on backtracking and would be staying less than 50 miles from the now destroyed safe house. With a little luck, they might even think I was heading for Canada, and would concentrate any search for Jiao and me somewhere along the U.S./Canadian border.

I knew it would not take long for the intelligence community to find out that I had vacationed several times in Canada in the past two years, and they might think I was headed there again.

That someone would be searching, I had no doubt! The Chinese apparently wanted this girl awfully bad -- bad enough they took the chance on sending a six-man hit squad into the United States. That could be construed in some quarters as an act of war!

By now, my right arm and shoulder were hurting like hell but I was afraid to take any pain pills since they might make me drowsy. I was also already tired enough, and hungry.

Jiao opened some of the snacks I had bought, and I quickly downed both cups of coffee. Jiao didn't drink coffee, but she did have a soft drink and ate some of the snacks.

We had been back on the road about an hour when Jiao turned to look at me.

"I love my country," she said, "I want you to understand that. I love China.

"I didn't defect because I hate China . . . but I do hate the old men who now run China."

Then she begin telling me her story.

Oh, one thing I also need to explain. While at the safe house, Jiao spoke English with a very heavy Chinese accent. She would also drop words such as "the," and "a" and even drop adverbs and sometimes verbs.

Now, she was actually speaking better English than I was -- at least more proper English. With virtually no trace of an accent, other than a very slight London-type inflection.

When I asked her about that, she explained that during extremely stressful moments, or when she was really scared or excited, it was difficult for her to remember to translate everything in her mind, before actually saying it.

Jiao's parents had both been respected scientists in China. Her father in chemical engineering, and her mother in bio-chemistry. Her father was also a high-ranking member of the Communist Party, and served on a number of science committees.

As such, their life was very different from most others in China.

"I had never really thought much about it," she explained, "I somehow thought everyone lived as we did."

Their family had the best in housing, the best food, and the best vehicles -- the best in everything.

Then one night, when she was 14, the internal division of the Ministry of State Security broke down their door.

"They arrested my father," she said, "and wouldn't even tell us why."

She never saw her father again. She still does not know why he was arrested, if he is still alive in a prison somewhere, or if he is dead.

I reached over with my right hand, very painfully, and patted her hand.

The next night, MSS came back.

Her family was given 30 minutes to take what they could carry, and then they were escorted out of their high-rise apartment.

"We went from having everything, to having nothing. We became what you call homeless people," she added. Her mother now had no job, and no way of raising her family.

None of the people she and her family had known all their lives would have anything to do with them. Except one family.

That one family put their own lives in jeopardy, giving them food and a place to sleep at night.

But finally that had to end as well. It was simply too dangerous for that family to continue helping Jiao's family.

They did offer to take Jiao in, and see that she continued her education.

"My mother then had to explain some things to me," she said.

Jiao had one of the highest IQ's ever recorded in China. And while she had always been near the top of every class, she rarely really applied herself since she could excel without trying very hard.

"They can take everything from us," her mother said, "but they can't take our will, they can't take our determination, they can't take our minds!

"It is up to you to restore our family's honor," her mother said. Jiao had not seen her mother since then, and only seen her two older brothers once. Her brothers had told her that their mother was alive and well.

Jiao did move in with that family, and really started taking her education seriously. Soon her grades were so high, a lot of the doors that had been closed starting opening again.

She was selected for one of the most prestigious universities in China, which enrolled her when she was only 16.

On her 18th birthday, she was married to an "older, but wonderful, brilliant man." The marriage lasted five years until he died of a heart attack.

Ten months after the marriage, she gave birth to a daughter.

She paused for several minutes.

Then one night MSS came back. But not for her husband. They came back for her.

"I was taken to the hospital," she explained, "and forced to undergo sterilization."

I had read that China had a one-child policy, but never really thought about how they might go about enforcing that policy.

"I can never have children again," she said, and then started sobbing.

I pulled into a rest stop, and walked around to her side of the SUV.

I opened the door, then climbed in and just picked Jiao up and put her in my lap.

She leaned against my shoulder and cried and cried -- for at least 15 or 20 minutes.

I really couldn't say anything. Am I supposed to say "Don't cry, everything will be okay?"

I knew in her mind, it would never be okay.

She actually cried herself to sleep in my arms.

As gently as I could, I put her back in her seat and fastened her seat-belt, then continued driving. She slept most of the rest of the way back, but much more peacefully now.

Five hours after leaving Kentucky, I turned onto a one-lane, deeply rutted dirt road in the mountains of Tennessee, just over the border from North Carolina. About a half-mile from the turnoff I had to get out to unlock the padlock holding several huge log chains blocking access to the road.

The chains were attached to steel beams that were anchored in concrete deep into the ground.

I moved the SUV forward, then got out again and tried to relock the chains, but my arm was hurting so much I had to get Jiao to help me. After we had locked the gate, I continued to drive.

Due to the winding, twisting dirt road, I actually crossed the state line several times in the next three miles.

The road we were on ran parallel to a creek. The further down the road I drove, the higher the mountains became on both sides of us, and the closer in they came to both the creek and road. At the narrowest point, the opening for the road and creek was no more than 75 feet across and half of that was taken up by the creek.

Soon I drove the SUV into an old, abandoned chicken house. At least two-thirds of the chicken house had collapsed, leaving a section about 30 feet wide and 30 feet deep inside where you could park vehicles.

Before driving inside, I had to get out to open one of the swing doors. It was barely still attached to the rest of the building, and when I opened the door I could hear the chickens starting to squawk at being disturbed. I knew from other visits there were actually several hundred chickens living inside what was left of the derelict chicken house.

I assumed they were what was left over from when the chicken house had collapsed decades before, and the chickens probably ate bugs in the house and surrounding woods. By now they were totally wild, but their presence always meant you had fresh eggs.

If you were really hungry, you also had fresh chicken to eat as well.

I closed the door to the chicken house, then Jiao and I walked through the woods until we came out into a small valley between the now towering mountains on all sides.

I was very curious to see her reaction when she saw what lay ahead.

Jiao actually gasped when she saw the valley.

I thought it was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

The valley was about a half-mile wide and perhaps three-quarters of a mile long. Most of the valley floor was filled with wild flowers, with a number of fruit trees, including apple, pear, peach and cherry trees.

From where we were standing we could see at least a half-dozen deer calmly grazing on the valley floor. A creek meandered through the valley, and on one side sat what looked like an old abandoned log cabin. The cabin was located beside the creek, but on a bank about 10 feet higher than the creek.

The only real sign that anybody still used the cabin was an enormous stack of split firewood beside the cabin.

Jiao just kept looking around at the secluded valley, and asked if it had a name.

"I have always just called it the 'Valley,' or 'Meadow'," I said.

"It is so beautiful and peaceful," she said, and again grabbed my hand and held it.

The abandoned looking log cabin had a lot of surprises in store.

For starters, it had a solid steel door almost two inches thick. If anyone could have seen inside the walls, they would have discovered that the entire cabin was clad in two-inch thick steel plate, underneath the exterior logs. The roof also had steel plate underneath the shingles, but that was only about an inch think.

The windows were also an inch-and-a-half thick bulletproof glass.

After unlocking the door, we walked inside, where I lit several candles, and then a kerosene lantern, and told Jiao this was our home for the next couple of weeks.

The cabin had one room, with a wood-burning kitchen stove supplying the only heat. There were a couple of rickety old chairs scattered around, one small bed and a small dining room table.

There were no electrical outlets, no lamps, no TV, not even a radio. Also no microwave, and not even a refrigerator.

Jiao did not seem to be very impressed, but rather stared at the only bed for a minute or two.

When she asked if it would possible for her to get cleaned up, and get some of the dried blood off, I walked over to the kitchen sink and showed her how to operate the old style faucet. You literally had to pump water up from a well using a hand crank.

I told her that if you wanted hot water, then you started a fire in the stove, and heated the water.

She REALLY looked less than impressed.

I also showed her where the bathroom was. There was no tub, no shower, not even a sink in the bathroom -- it was literally, just a toilet, inside a small closet.

Jiao nearly looked like she was about to start crying, at the thought of spending the next two weeks in this primitive cabin with none of the amenities we take for granted -- such as electricity and running, hot water.

From what Jiao had told me, I knew she was a "city girl," and not used to roughing it.

I finally decided I had had enough "fun" at Jiao's expense.

There actually was a lot more to the cabin than anyone would ever expect.

The cabin was located on nearly 100 acres of land, but the land itself was nearly useless. Other than the valley we were in now, there were very few level spots, and while it was covered with hardwoods and pines, most of the land was so steep it would have been nearly impossible to harvest any of the trees.

I had bought the cabin and land 12 months earlier, paying nearly half-a-million dollars for it.

And no, I wasn't crazy.

I told Jiao I wanted to show her something and reached over and took her hand.

We walked over to the bed, and Jiao was really looking at me very strangely.

I let her hand go, then felt behind the headboard and pressed a small lever I knew was hidden there, then pushed the bed to the left. The entire wall opened up, sliding outward on a hinge, revealing an opening about four feet wide and about eight feet tall.

Carpeted steps led downward, and I reached into the doorway and turned on the lights.

Jiao had gasped when the wall opened, and now seeing actual lights brought a smile to her face.

I again reached for her hand, and we walked down the steps together.

Underneath the cabin was another world.

It wasn't a huge space, but contained a combination kitchen/living area. The kitchen contained all the modern amenities, including a refrigerator and a large sub-zero freezer. I knew the freezer was completely stocked.

There were also two small bedrooms, and a modern bathroom, complete with a large walk-in shower.

And as I told Jiao, "plenty of hot water!"

We were still holding hands, and when I mentioned "hot water," she squeezed my hand in gratitude, and told me she was desperate to take a bath.

I told her to go ahead, that I was going to just sit down on one of the chairs and rest for a few minutes. I showed her where the towels were, along with some robes, although I didn't have any robes small enough for her.

I woke up about two hours later, hearing Jiao say she needed to change the dressings on my wounds.

I gasped when I saw her. I already knew how beautiful she was from watching her through my sniper scope. Later, when I first saw her close up, she was still beautiful but covered with sheetrock dust, blood and brains.

Now her face was just a foot or so from mine, and she was freshly washed, and her long, long jet black hair was shining.

She was, without doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She was watching me, watching her and she actually blushed a little from how intensely I was studying her face.

She helped me remove my jacket and t-shirt, and soon she had the old bandages off and was washing the wounds. Her hands were quick and sure, with no wasted motion.

Soon I had new bandages in place.

While she was changing the bandages, Jiao told me that while I was sleeping she had gone upstairs and emptied everything out of the SUV, including all my weapons and ammo. She had brought everything downstairs, then locked the cabin and had finally figured out how to close the wall opening, containing the bed upstairs.

By now, I could barely keep my eyes open.

I had just been getting ready to go to bed the previous night when the Colonel called, alerting me to the situation at the safe house. I had already been up nearly 18 hours at that point, since I had been at the beach just two days ago.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 02



I had driven for nearly 15 hours straight from Florida, where I had been vacationing in Fort Lauderdale. Add in the intense one hour time period at the safe house, which included getting shot twice and blood loss from that, plus driving six hours into Kentucky and five hours back, and I was exhausted.

Jiao helped me out of the chair and helped me walk over to one of the beds.

She told me she would be in the other bedroom if I needed anything.

About four hours later she woke me up, sliding into bed with me in the darkened room, telling me she did not want to spend the rest of the night alone.

Soon her head was resting on my shoulder, and when I began moving my left hand up and down her back I realized she was naked. As I moved my hand lower down her back, I realized she was now completely naked, without even panties on.

Suddenly I wasn't quite as tired!

When Jiao had said she didn't want to spend the rest of the night alone, I really wasn't thinking about a sexual relationship.

I actually thought she just wanted me to hold her, like I had earlier in the SUV.

Without thinking about what I was about to do, I tried to reach over and turn on the night light beside the bed -- unfortunately I tried to use my right arm.

Hurt like hell!

I asked Jiao to turn it on and she leaned over and did so. Then she turned back to me.

I was almost speechless. This really was the most beautiful woman I have ever known, and now her face was only a few inches from mine. The night light was not that bright, but I could still Jiao clearly.

Since the previous night, I thought I had seen nearly the whole range of human emotion in Jiao's eyes.

Someone once told me that Chinese people were "inscrutable." That you could never tell what they were thinking, or what they were feeling.

Since meeting Jiao I knew that was not true.

I am not sure if there is an actual word "scrutable," but if there is, then Jiao is scrutable. Very scrutable!

Looking at her through the sniper scope, I had seen anger, defiance, determination and even relief when she thought I was going to kill her. I still haven't asked her about that. Did she actually know I was there?

Later, on the porch, I again had seen anger in her eyes.

While she was tending to my wounds, the anger had been replaced by compassion. When she told me about Colonel Shin killing the two "sitters," I had seen hatred in her eyes.

As we were driving back from Kentucky and she was telling me about her childhood, I had seen joy and happiness in her eyes, only to see that replaced by extreme pain as she described her father being taken away, and not knowing why, or what had happened to him.

When she talked about the forced sterilization, I had seen an incredible level of anguish in those eyes.

As we stood side-by-side overlooking the valley, I had again seen joy, along with amazement.

One of the things I had not yet seen was fear.

Despite everything that had happened to her the previous night, I had not seen any fear.

Now, as she was lying naked beside me, I could see fear in her eyes.

"Jiao, you don't have to be afraid of me," I started to say.

She gave what could only be described as a sad half-smile, then shook her head.

"I am not afraid of you Jack," she said, "I already know you would never hurt me."

"Then you don't need to be afraid anyone will find us," I told Jiao, "it will probably take at least two or three weeks if they can find us at all, and even if they do find us, we are in one of the safest places we could be.

"Besides, I haven't shown you even half what this cabin has to offer," I told her.

She again gave me a smile, but much fuller than before, and not nearly so sad.

"Jack, you don't understand. I am not afraid of you, and I am not afraid anyone will find us here. And even if they do, I am not afraid of that either. I know you will protect me," she said.

"I am afraid of me!" she explained.

"I am afraid of how I already feel about you, and how much I want to be here with you -- now, tonight, just the two of us."

As I looked into her eyes, the fear had indeed been replaced.

Now I could see desire . . . and dare I even say it . . . an even deeper emotion?

As I was looking into the face of this incredible, beautiful woman I could not help but notice that her lower lip was still swollen where Colonel Shin had twice struck her.

I leaned over and kissed Jiao on the forehead, then kissed her on both eyes, then her nose and on her cheeks.

Very softly I kissed her on the other side of her lip, then her chin and slowly made my way down her neck until it reached the little hollow at the base of her neck. I kissed her several times there, then kissed her all along her neck.

She was softly sighing as I kissed her.

I again kissed her very softly on her lips, trying not to touch where the lip had been split.

Her mouth opened and soon our tongues met.

I next kissed her on the split lip, as softly as I possibly could.

I again kissed Jiao on the little hollow at the base of her neck, and this time she shivered slightly.

Slowly, very slowly I trailed my tongue down across her chest.

"Jack, Jack, I am sorry I am not like American women with big breasts," she started to say, but I stopped her before she could say anything else.

"Jiao, your breasts are beautiful," I said, "in fact, I think they are the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen."

I took my tongue and lightly caressed one of her nipples.

She gasped, and her body shuddered.

"They are the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen," I again told her.

I covered her left breast with my mouth and sucked softly, then alternated licking with my tongue and sucking with my mouth.

Her hands came up and grasped the back of my head as I made love to her breasts.

Her nipples were extraordinary. I think each nipple had to have been a half-inch thick, and at least a half-inch long. As I was to find out, they were also incredibly sensitive!

By now she was making meaningless noises, just a variety of sighs and moans and groans.

I would spend 10 minutes with one breast, then shift over to the other for another 10 minutes, then go back and start over.

Her hips were writhing on the bed as I continued to worship her breasts with my mouth and tongue.

Every so often she would just say, "Jack . . . Jack . . . Jack!"

My left forearm was under Jiao's head, and after I had been playing with her right breast (the closest to me) for about 10 minutes, I moved my arm a little more under her head so I could bend my elbow and I reached down and squeezed her left nipple between two fingers.

The double stimulation, with one nipple in my mouth, and the other being pinched in my fingers was apparently too much for her.

She gave a little cry of pleasure and her body convulsed with an orgasm.

This was something new to me. I had made love to a number of women in the past, but had never given a woman an orgasm just from playing with her breasts.

As she came down from her orgasm, Jiao grabbed my head in both hands, and kissed me -- very hard. I knew it had to be hurting her lip, but she seemed not to care. Our tongues were deep in each other's mouths.

After we broke the kiss, I could see that the split lip had actually opened up again, and there was a little blood trickling down her chin.

As I looked into her eyes and saw the passion and emotion registering within . . . well then I became a little afraid.

What could I offer this woman? What future could two totally different people have together?

Jiao had told me she had one of the highest IQ's ever recorded in China -- a country with a population of well over one billion!

Following a week-long series of tests in the Marine Corps, I had been told that I actually had a higher than normal IQ myself, but how could that possibly compare to hers?

I was a high school graduate, but she was a graduate of one of the most prestigious universities in China, with a degree in nuclear physics!

To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure exactly what someone with a degree in nuclear physics did for a living but I knew what I did for a living -- even amongst ourselves we never openly admitted it, never used the "k" word, but the fact was -- I killed people for a living!

The previous night, Colonel James had asked "how do you want to play it?" and that is the kind of language we used, like it was a kind of game. We never "killed" people. We "eliminated" targets, or we "removed" targets. Targets were not living, breathing people. We also completed missions -- those were nice, safe words.

During every one of those missions, I had a little routine I went through. If I was by myself, I said it softly under my breath. If I was with someone who was helping, either in locating or identifying the target, or keeping an eye out for anyone around me, I would say it out loud.

"Well folks, its show time!" was what I had said some 200 times before.

It was a game, it was show time, and we eliminated or removed targets. We didn't kill actual, real people.

Only one time had I ever actually been forced to think about what I did for a living, and it still really bothered me.

A few months earlier, just after another mission, I had been asked to assist in providing security at a safe house in Virginia.

Nothing had happened, and while the other members of the detail and I were packing everything up and getting ready to go, two of the guys were arguing about which was the greatest Western movie of all time.

One of the guys kept insisting it was "Unforgiven." When he asked me about the movie, I had to admit I had never seen it. Both guys told me I really needed to see the movie, so I rented it after returning home.

I was really enjoying the movie until Clint Eastwood, who was playing an aging gunfighter was talking to a young kid who wanted to become a gunfighter himself.

"It's a hell of a thing killing a man . . . You take away all he's got, and all he's ever gonna have," Eastwood opined.

I stopped the movie right there, and returned it to the video store.

And told myself not to think about what Eastwood had said.

Have you ever tried to make yourself NOT think about something?

The more you try to NOT think about something, the more you actually think about it.

My last three missions had been different. I was still eliminating some of the worst scum-bags on earth, but I could no longer simply think about them as "targets."

Even targets have family!

Now I was looking deep into Jiao's beautiful jade-green eyes, and I knew I wanted to spend every day with her for the rest of my life.

But what would she think . . . once she actually found out what I did for a living? She probably already suspected some of the truth, but what about when she found out ALL the truth. Once she found out how many men I had actually killed? Would she be horrified and disgusted? She would probably turn away from me and start running.

As I was looking into her eyes, Jiao was looking right back, and then she said words I will never, EVER forget.

"Every day, for the rest of my life!" was what she said, along with the most incredible, beautiful smile I have even seen.

I knew in that instant, that split-second that I had completed my last mission. Death had dominated my life for so many years, but how I was looking at, and holding . . . love!

When you have stared pure love in the face, and held it in your arms . . . you can't go back.

I was no longer that man I had been just a little over 24 hours ago.

I did not know what the future held for me, but I now knew who I would be holding, and who would be holding me, in the future!

Jiao's smile widened even more, and then she added something else.

"Please make love to me, Jack," she asked.

I never stopped looking into her eyes as I leaned down to kiss her -- gently of course, since her lip was still bleeding a little.

As our lips came together, the most extraordinary thing happened.

For the first time in my life, I began having one of my "crystal clarity" moments when not holding a rifle.

This time, it was even more intense than it had been back at the safe house.

I could hear a clock ticking in the next room, even though the bedroom door was closed. I could hear the refrigerator kick on. I could almost swear I could hear the wind outside, even though the basement where we were now was supposed to be soundproof.

I could smell the soap Jiao had used when she took a shower. I could smell the shampoo she had used. I could smell the toothpaste she had used, and the mouthwash she had used. Each were completely different, distinct smells.

And even more -- I could smell HER! Her unique scent filled my nostrils. The sweetest fragrance on earth!

I could smell her arousal. I did not need to put a finger inside Jiao, I could smell how wet she was. And I could already taste her on my tongue, just from her scent!

And when I looked at her face, I could see a thousand emotions expressed in her mouth, lips, cheeks, forehead and eyes.

Her hair was not just jet black. It was jet black with a luminance, a glow that suddenly lit up the room.

I broke our kiss, then slowly moved down until I could take one of Jiao's magnificent nipples in my mouth.

We never broke eye contact, until I started sucking on her nipple and she groaned and her eyes fluttered.

I kissed and sucked her other nipple, then started leaving a trail of kisses, bites and licks down across her stomach. Jiao continued to groan and moan softly and her eyes continued to flutter.

I stopped and rimmed out Jiao's belly button, and her hands grasped the back of my head as she moaned louder. Her hands were trembling and now her eyes were closed.

I finally started making my way downward again until I reached an incredibly soft patch of jet black hair.

Just as I reached her pubic hairs, I noticed a long scar -- about eight inches long -- across her abdomen. I had once dated a woman who had had a Cesarean, or C-Section so I knew what the scar was.

As I began weaving my tongue through her black pubic hair, Jiao said the first words she had said in many minutes.

"Jack, what are you . . .

"Jack, no one has ever . . .

"Jack, I have never . . ."

As my tongue entered deeply inside her, those words were replaced with just one word, repeated over and over.

"Jaaaaaaaack, Jaaaaaaaaaack, Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaack."

I have never tasted anything more delicious, more precious in my life.

My tongue had only been inside Jiao for a few minutes when her thighs clamped down on either side of my head, her butt lifted high off the bed and she screamed in ecstasy.

I was amazed. I have never seen anyone reach orgasm so quickly, so powerfully in my life.

I had not even approached her clitoris yet, and she was already having an incredible orgasm.

As her legs loosened their hold on my head, I removed my tongue and let her come down for a few minutes.

When Jiao could finally start talking, all she could say, in a heavy Chinese accent, was "Jack, what you do me? Jack, what you do me?"

I guess Jiao also stopped translating Chinese into English when she was in the midst of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Once I could see that she had recovered some, I was determined to give this sexy, beautiful woman the most incredible night of her life.

I started very slowly, just softly blowing air onto her vagina.

She moaned, and her hips started moving.

I slowly licked along her outer labia, up one side and down the other. I was very carefully avoiding both her clitoris and her insides.

I would occasionally lick gently inside her slit, from bottom to top, and then just barely brush against her clitoral hood. Her reaction was instantaneous, as she would moan loudly and try to grab my head and force it down onto, and inside her.

I teased Jiao for many minutes, to bring her to the very edge of an orgasm, then back off and wait for her to recover, then do it again and again.

By now she was moaning and gasping almost continuously, and finally begged for release.

"Jack, please, Jack, please, Jack please," was all she could say.

I again licked slowly inside her slit, from bottom to top, but this time I licked very hard against Jiao's clitoral hood.

Her legs immediately started to clamp down on the sides of my head, and when I stopped licking and instead sucked her clitoris inside my mouth -- well, she almost exploded.

I don't know that I have ever seen any woman have a more incredible orgasm. She was screaming almost continuously as wave after wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her body.

I almost thought she was going to break my neck as her hips bucked up and down, and side to side!

When Jiao's legs loosened enough for me to remove my head, I slid up the bed until I was just inches away from her face.

As I looked into her eyes, I have never seen such raw emotion, raw passion, raw pleasure, and yes, such love in anyone's eyes.

Jiao grabbed my head and kissed me harder than anyone has ever kissed me before. I knew she had to be in extreme pain from her lip, but neither that, nor the wetness from between her legs that was coating my face seemed to matter to her.

Her tongue was deep in my mouth, and when I started sucking on her tongue it seemed to drive her to ever greater heights of passion.

When we finally broke the kiss, I was shocked to see how much blood was coming from her lip.

However, when I tried to tell her I needed to go get something to stop the bleeding, she screamed at me, "No!"

Then in a very soft voice she asked:

"Make love me, Jack. Make love me, NOW."

I was already kneeling between her legs, so I quickly moved into position.

Just as I was about to enter Jiao, she reached down and grabbed my shaft in her hand.

She gasped, and for a brief moment I saw raw fear in her eyes.

"So big, so big," she said.

"Be gentle Jack. Be gentle. No one since husband die, seven years ago."

I already knew I was going to have to be careful.

Jiao was barely over five feet tall, and couldn't have weighed more than 85 or 90 pounds.

I already knew she was the smallest woman I had ever been with, and knew that I had to go slowly to avoid hurting her.

Her words just made me more determined not to cause her any pain.

She was still holding my penis in her hand, and as I moved closer she guided it into position.

As I began pushing inside, she continued to hold me.

How can I even describe what it felt like?

Her channel was so incredibly soft and wet, and yet seemed to be made of unyielding steel.

I could barely get the head inside her and she was gasping.

I knew I was hurting her.

With a shock I realized that I had not even used my fingers on Jiao yet! At least I could use my fingers to try to loosen her up.

But when I told Jiao I needed to stop and use my fingers to make it easier for her, she again screamed, "No!"

She grasped me even harder and tried to pull me inside her.

"Inside me, NOW!" she cried out.

She continued to hold me, and was forcing me deeper inside her even as tears were running down her face.

Once the head was fully inside her, she shuddered and then seemed to loosen up slightly. Very slightly!

She continued to pull on me until half my length was inside her, and her hand was now pressed into her sex, spreading her lips.

"Inside, now!" she again ordered, as she removed her hand.

I continued to push as slowly inside Jiao as I could, until my pelvis were resting against her.

I was finally, completely inside this incredible woman.

The entire time Jiao had been gasping, at different times, "Jack, Jack, Jack," or "Inside, now," or "So big, so big!"

I have never felt anything as tight, nor anything as hot. It was actually hurting me, and I could only imagine what Jiao was feeling.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 02



I spent several minutes inside her, just trying to let Jiao adjust to my size.

When I finally began to pull back some, it seemed her vagina had me in a vice lock, and refused to let go.

Rather than pulling out of her incredible tightness, her body was actually being pulled down the bed with me. I had to use my hands to hold her hips still, before I could withdraw.

As slowly as I possibly could, I gradually pulled back. She was moaning nonstop, and speaking Mandarin. I had no idea what she was saying, but could tell from her facial expression that she was now beginning to enjoy the feeling.

Again, as slowly as I could I began pushing back inside her.

Her head titled back, lifting her upper torso. Since she was so short, it really was very difficult for me to bend my head down, but soon I captured one of her nipples in my mouth and began sucking -- hard.

She screamed with pleasure, and I could already feel my balls begin to tighten and knew that very soon I was going to cum myself. But I didn't want to yet, because first I wanted Jiao to have her own orgasm.

Jiao then did something that momentarily caused me to forget all about my dick, buried deep inside her burning hot, painfully tight vagina.

With her head still titled back, she reached out both arms and grabbed my arms, just below my shoulders.

Of course, the problem with that was she was grabbing and squeezing me directly on the bullet wound on my right arm, where I had been shot just the night before.

The pain was intense, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming. Instead I just groaned.

Jiao was oblivious to the pain she was causing me, and if she heard my groan, I think she probably just assumed I was groaning in pleasure because that was what she was doing continuously -- moaning and groaning in pleasure.

As bad as the pain was, at least it had the side benefit of making me forget all about my own orgasm.

Finally her arms dropped down beside her, and she clenched her fists and started beating the bed.

I continued to slowly pull out and push back in, and gradually she loosened enough I could start increasing my speed.

Soon I was moving a little more forcefully in and out of Jiao, and her moans and groans just kept getting louder. I still was perhaps only going half-speed, but compared to how slowly I had been going before it was dramatically different.

Jiao would yell something in Mandarin, then call out my name, "Jack, Jack, Jack," then resume almost screaming in Mandarin.

I felt something on my right arm, and when I looked over I saw that she had actually dislodged the dressing over my wound and blood was trickling out from under the bandage.

I could not have cared less. In fact, I would have given all the blood in my body at this point just to bring pleasure to this incredible woman.

By now Jiao had passed the point of language.

She was just screaming, "Oh, Oooh, Ooooooh." I didn't know, nor care, if this was English "Oh," or if there was an equivalent Mandarin "Oh!"

I knew she was on the verge of a tremendous orgasm.

Then it happened.

She stopped making any sounds for a few seconds, then her body arched upward in an impossible bend.

She lifted my body straight up in the air. Only her head, shoulders and feet were still on the bed and she screamed loud enough to wake the dead as she had the most intense orgasm I had ever seen a woman have.

And once her vagina clamped down on me, literally milking me with the contracting of her muscles, I joined her in the most massive orgasm I have ever had.

It felt like I blew a gallon of sperm inside her!

She continued to experience wave after wave of her orgasm, but by now Jiao could no longer scream, nor make any sound. Her mouth was wide open as silent scream after scream rippled through her body.

Jiao's body was still bent in an impossible arch, as she was supporting not only her weight, but my own as well.

Finally, she just collapsed downward onto the bed. I barely had enough time to put both hands down beside her before my 180 pounds would have crushed her tender body.

The shock when my injured arm caught my weight was almost enough to make me pass out. Indeed, I think I did black out for a couple of seconds.

I reached underneath her with both hands and pulled her around until she was on top of me.

Again, the pain rippled through my arm but I didn't care.

I don't actually know if we both fell asleep, or if we both actually passed out from the intensity of our lovemaking, but within 10 seconds or so, both of us were lost to the world.



East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 03



I suggest you read the first two chapters before beginning on this, the third installment. Again I would be remiss if I did not thank BeachBaby179 for her numerous suggestions and contributions to making this story much better than it would have otherwise been.

East Meets West, Part 1, Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning with Jiao still asleep on top of me. I don't think either of us had moved an inch the entire night. We were, of course, both still naked.

As I remembered everything that had happened, and the incredible intensity of all that had happened, I know that I was completely, hopelessly, eternally in love with this woman!

NOTHING mattered to me anymore except for us to be together, and to bring her more pleasure – and love – than any two people had ever experienced.

My arm was throbbing, and as I looked over, the partially dislodged dressing was covered in blood. I could actually feel where the blood had soaked the bed sheets, and was now extending under my back.

I didn't care.

As I looked back towards Jiao, I slowly moved my left hand beside her face and turned her face partially towards me.

Her lower lip had split open again, and she had dried blood all over her chin. As I looked down, I could see that she had actually bled onto my chest while we were sleeping.

God, she was so beautiful!

I kissed her forehead, then her closed eyes, then her nose while my left hand slowly moved up and down her back, lightly caressing her from her neck to her buttocks.

She gradually woke up and I don't know that I have ever seen such a look of happiness, contentment and love before in my life.

"Hello, beautiful," I said.

"Hello, my lover, my hero," she answered, then added, "You are mine, mine, forever!"

I agreed, telling her that I was "hers, forever, and you are mine, forever!"

She tried to smile, but when she did her split lip made her wince, and I could see a new trickle of blood emerge.

Despite the pain, she leaned up and kissed me on the lips. I could taste the blood – her blood.

"Never leave me, never, ever leave me," she said, and I told her I would always be with her.

Then she tried to move her body off of me, but when she did she winced more this time and I could tell it wasn't coming from her lip.

"Did I hurt you too bad last night?" I immediately asked.

She blushed.

"It hurt some," she finally admitted, "but it hurt so incredibly good . . . so incredibly good."

She finally managed to shift her body over until she was resting her head on my left shoulder.

I started running my hand through her long, long black hair.

Then she looked over and saw my blood-stained bandage.

"Jack, you are bleeding again," she cried out, alarm in her voice. "What happened?"

I looked at her and smiled, and said, "Well, you hurt me some as well, but as you said, it hurt so good!"

Jiao tried to get up, saying she needed to change my bandage, but when she did she winced even more.

I knew she was in a lot more pain than she was willing to admit.

I finally insisted she continue to lay down, while I went and got the bag from the "pharmacy" at the safe house.

When I got up, and she saw the blood on the sheets, plus the blood on my side and back, she gasped.

"Oh, Jack. What did I do to you, what did I do to you?" she asked, in a stricken voice, as tears filled her eyes.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then very softly kissed her on the side of her mouth, away from the split lip.

"You made me the happiest man on earth last night," I answered. "That is what you did to me."

She tried to smile but again the pain from her lip would not let her.

I ordered Jiao to lie still until I got back with the bag, but when I returned I found she had not listened to me.

She had gotten up, and removed all the bed sheets.

I could tell she was having trouble walking.

"Jiao, if you don't listen to me, I may have to give you a spanking," I semi-threatened, but with a smile.

She actually leaned over and shook her bare butt at me!

I made a motion like I was going to spank her, but of course "missed."

Jiao giggled, then raised her hand to her lip.

I picked her up and carried her over to the bed where I put her down.

I had also stopped before returning to the bedroom and brought back some wet cloths, and dry towels, along with a bucket of hot water.

Jiao, all professional now, ordered to me lay down and she removed the rest of the bandage and starting cleaning the blood off my arm, sides and back.

Soon I had a new bandage in place, and it was my turn to take care of her.

I carefully cleaned the blood off her chin, then as gently as possible from her lip.

Jiao had gone through the bag and found some salve that she said was supposed to be "cooling and soothing," so I put some on her lip.

I could almost immediately see the relief in her eyes.

"Jack," Jiao began, then she turned crimson.

"Jack," she tried again, "can you put some cream on me 'down there' as well?"

I couldn't believe it. After all that we had done the night before, my bringing her to several orgasms with my mouth and tongue, then finally entering her and the truly incredible orgasm she had had, and she could blush so easily.

I helped her lie down, then moved down on the bed some.

I put a liberal amount on my fingers, then carefully rubbed a bit between her legs.

She gasped when she first felt my fingers, then gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Put some inside also," she said, and again blushed a deep red.

I added some more salve to one of my fingers, then gently pushed it inside of her.

Again she gasped, then gave a sigh of relief, but her hips started moving – seemingly of their own accord.

I added a second finger and she sighed even louder, and her hips started moving even more.

Even with the salve coating my fingers, I could not believe how incredibly tight she was.

I could not believe I had actually been able to penetrate her last night!

"Jack," she finally said, "I don't want you to stop – it feels so good – but if you don't stop now I may never let you stop."

I reluctantly withdrew my fingers, but when I stood up Jiao could see the effect that my fingering of her vagina had on me.

I was rock hard!

Jiao looked in amazement, and asked, "You are hard again?"

Then she told me that while she could not take me inside of her yet, she could take care of me.

She grabbed my dick, and I heard her say, "You are so big," then she leaned over and took me into her mouth.

I tried to pull out because I was afraid it would hurt her lip too much, but she kept saying she would be careful, and soon I was lying on my back and she was leaning over me with her head bobbing up and down.

She could only take about half my length into her mouth, so her hand was jacking me off as she licked and sucked on the head of my cock.

When I could feel my orgasm approaching, I tried to warn her, but that just seemed to make her redouble her efforts. Soon I shot a load into her mouth, and she continued to suck and swallow.

Sated, I lay back down on the bed and she joined me, with her head on my shoulder.

"I love you Jiao," I told her, "I love you so much."

"And I love you Jack," she answered.

I leaned over and kissed her, and my tongue was deep inside her mouth. I could taste myself on her tongue.

We drifted off to sleep, holding each other.

We only slept for about an hour, then Jiao woke me up, kissing me so tenderly.

I looked at her, and she was smiling – without any pain from her lip.

I asked her if she wanted any more salve on her lip, and she said yes, so I applied some more, then gave her a leering little smile and asked if she needed any salve "anywhere else?"

Again she blushed, then laughed but said no.

"If you start doing that again, then I may not let you stop – and I am not ready for that yet," she advised me, but added, "maybe later tonight!"

I think I may have blushed.

We got up and put some clothes on, then I cooked us some breakfast.

After we had finished eating, we walked over to the living room side of the joint room, and I sat on a recliner and Jiao sat on my lap.

It felt so incredibly good just to hold her.

Jiao put her head on my shoulder, then started telling me more about her past in China.

"I told you my husband was a wonderful, intelligent man, but older," she reminded me.

I nodded my head yes.

"He was actually a lot older. Forty years older," she said.

When she started attending the university, he was one of her professors.

He was actually China's leading nuclear physicist, specializing in nuclear reactors, and would teach at least one class each year to try to identify the best and brightest students.

"I was one of those 'brightest' students," she said, and she quickly found herself growing very attracted to the professor.

"To be honest, I pursued him," she admitted.

The professor was a life-long bachelor, and was completely unprepared for anyone as beautiful, and determined, as Jiao.

They were married on her 18th birthday.

"It created something of a scandal," she said.

"He was incredibly intelligent, caring, and funny and I loved him so much," she admitted.

But their physical relationship was a lot less than she had expected.

Jiao said they usually only had sex about once a month, and most often she had to instigate it then, usually with her mouth.

"I have never had, until last night, an orgasm," she continued, then smiled at me and kissed me. "You were so wonderful last night!"

"I truly loved my husband, respected him and admired him," she said, but added how frustrating the other part of their life had been.

The professor was only a couple of inches taller than Jiao, and only weighed about 10 kilograms more. I did the mental translation, which was about 22 pounds.

"You are twice his size," she said, "everywhere," and blushed again.

You might think I am bragging, and claiming to have some kind of monster cock, but that is not true. I have read Kinsey, and other research books, and know the "average" size of a male penis. I am a little longer, and perhaps slightly more than just a little bigger around, but not abnormal in any way.

Apparently the professor was well below the other side of average.

"I have never been with anyone else," Jiao admitted, adding, "When I grabbed you last night and felt how huge you were . . . I was shocked.

"I never imagined anyone could be so big. And I was suddenly very afraid you were going to split me apart."

Then she leaned up and grabbed my face between her hands and said in a fierce voice: "But I was determined to have you inside me, all of you, even if it killed me!"

I apologized to Jiao, telling her how sorry I was that I had not spent more time getting her ready, but she stopped me and told me how wonderful last night had been. Yes, it had been painful at times, but how truly wonderful it had been.

"You made me a whole woman last night. For the first time in my life, even though I am a mother, you made me a whole woman last night," she stressed, giving me another tender kiss.

Suddenly I remembered something else she had said last night.

"Wait Jiao," I began, "last night you said it had been seven years since your husband died?"

She said "Yes."

"And you had been married for five years?" I asked.

Again, she said, "Yes."

Then I explained that the first time I had seen her, I had almost assumed she was a child since she was so small. Then as I studied her face, I had revised that to about 18 or 19.

She smiled so beautifully.

"After you told me you were a nuclear physicist and had been married for five years, I revised that again to about 22 or 23," I continued.

Again she smiled, and actually laughed!

"Jiao, just how old are you?" I finally asked.

She now had such a mischievous smile on her face.

"Jack, I have a 12-year-old daughter.

"Jack, I will be 31 next month," she said, then laughed out loud at the look on my face.

To say I was stunned would be something of an understatement.

"How old do you think I am?" I finally asked.

"I know I am a few years older than you are," she said.

"I would guess you are about 26 or 27," she finally answered, after studying my face for a couple of minutes.

Now it was my turn for a mischievous smile!

"Jiao, I am 22 years old," I told her, then began laughing at the look on HER face!

I don't know which one of us was truly more surprised. Me, that Jiao was nine years older than I was, or Jiao, that I was nine years younger than she was.

We both began laughing, and then were kissing each other.

"I have always been attracted to much older women," I said with a perfectly straight face.

"In China, they always say that much younger men are best for a woman," she said, also with a perfectly straight face.

Then we started laughing again.

Oh God, I started to think that I didn't know when I have ever felt so good, then realized that, in fact, I have NEVER felt so good before in my life.

I also knew there was one other question I had to ask this amazing, "older" woman!!!

"Jiao, two nights ago, you knew I was outside, waiting to . . . waiting to . . ." I couldn't say the words.

"Waiting to kill me," she ended my sentence.

As soon as she said the words, and I truly realized with a growing sense of dread and horror how close I had come to killing Jiao that night, I began crying.

"Oh Jiao, I came so close," was about all I could say.

She put her arms around my neck and hugged me so tight.

"It's okay Jack, it's okay," she kept saying.

"Jack, please understand, right then I WANTED to die. I knew what was in store for me, Colonel Shin had already told me everything they were going to do to me.

"Before the night was over, all six men were going to rape me, and sodomize me, and only then were they really going to start torturing me," she said, and now she was crying as well.

"They were going to cut my nipples off and make me swallow them, but only after they had broken all my fingers and toes. Then they were going to take lit cigars and stuff them inside me . . . both places where they were going to rape me. He was going to have the men still puffing the cigars inside me, making it burn even hotter.

"Yes, I knew you were there and I was so relieved. I knew you were going to save me from him. Even if you had killed me . . . and I was ready to die . . . even if you had killed me you would still be saving me.

"He told me before they were through, I would be begging them to kill me!

"Then he said he might just leave what was left of me outside . . . still alive! But before they left, they would give me new cigars! Then he laughed."

Jiao was really crying now as well, and I could see the torment in her eyes as she relived the colonel's words to her.

"No matter what happened that night, no matter what might have happened, Jack, you saved me," she said, through the tears.

"You haven't told me anything about your daughter yet," I said, "is she still in China?"

Jiao said that no, her daughter was actually in Australia, then went on to explain how both she and her daughter had managed to get out of China.

She had not seen her two older brothers in years, but had secretly kept in touch with them.

Once she had made the decision to try to defect to the United States, she enlisted her brothers' help. She knew that after Chinese officials realized she was gone, they would be looking for a mother and daughter. One brother pretended to be her husband, and the other pretended to be her daughter's father but first they had cut her daughter's hair short and dressed her up to look like a boy.

Jiao was attending a conference in Hong Kong, and that is where she met up with her brothers.

It had taken her years, and nearly everything she had saved, but she managed to get two different sets of travel papers, one for one brother and herself and the other set for her daughter and other brother.

They actually all flew on the same Qantas flight to Australia, and once they reached that country they joined back up and headed for the Australian outback.

They located the other Chinese family that had defected years earlier, and her two brothers and daughter were all staying with that family.

I could tell how sad Jiao was knowing it might be months, or longer, before she could see her daughter again. I wasn't going to make any premature promises, but I knew Colonel James could probably help reunite Jiao and her daughter a lot sooner than that.

After just holding her for a long time, I finally had another question for Jiao.

"How did you know I was there?" I inquired.

"What do you know about ESP that is Extra Sensory Perception, or psychics?" Jiao asked.

I had to admit not much. I knew that both the United States and Russia had conducted experiments in the 1940s and 1950s, but it never really produced any real results.

"Both Russian and the United States actually continued those experiments well into the 1970s Jack," she told me, "and China continued for a lot longer than that.

"Some estimates are that one in five people have some form of ESP. China has more people than any country on earth, so by averages alone, they should have more psychics," Jiao continued.

"In China, people who showed any sort of psychic ability were forced to marry each other, and produce children, in hopes that those children would have even greater ability than their parents," she said. "That is what happened with my parents – they both displayed some sort of psychic ability."

"That night, when my Mother told me about my IQ score, she also told me she and my father had been forced into marriage by the government, and why," Jiao said. "Luckily, my parents really did learn to love each other."

Both of her older brothers had been tested extensively by the Chinese government, but failed to display any type of psychic ability.

"By the time I came of age, the government finally abandoned the testing, so they never checked to see if I had any traits of ESP.

"I can't control it, can't make it happen when I want to, but sometimes I get a sense about something, just a feeling," she explained.

"But two nights ago, it wasn't just a 'sense' or 'feeling.' I could actually see you as clearly as I can see you now. I saw your rifle then I actually could see myself in your scope. I saw you focus on my face, and start to squeeze the trigger. And I knew you were about to kill me – I was so relieved, because I knew then the Colonel could do nothing to me."

She told me how surprised she had been to see both men killed right in front of her.

"I was actually mad at you, in fact, furious at you!" she declared. "I thought you were going to leave me there with two dead men, and the others would torture me even more.

"Then I could feel that you were still watching me, so I tried to warn you about how many men were there," she added.

"I could also sense those men coming up the stairs, and I knew what they were going to do. I knew they were going to start shooting through the walls, so I ran and hid in the tub. The rest you know," she concluded.

"But I didn't know, I never sensed that you had been shot. I just knew that I was still mad at you, and when I saw you, I couldn't control my temper, so I slapped you (she reached up and touched my cheek) right there."

Jiao then leaned in and kissed me where she had slapped me.

"It wasn't until I was nearly finished putting the bandage on you that I realized I was nearly naked," she said, and actually blushed again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked with a big smile.

"Oh, I was enjoying myself too much," I answered with my own smile.

Jiao just put her head down on my shoulder again and snuggled against me.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 03



We just sat like that for most of the rest of the day, just holding each other, and occasionally sharing a deep kiss.

By late afternoon, Jiao leaned up some, then gave me a deep, deep kiss.

"Jack, I think I am ready," she said.

I knew what she meant, but decided to tease her a little.

"Oh, you are ready for dinner?" I inquired.

When she realized I was teasing her, I thought for a moment she was going to slap me again!

"Take me to bed, Jack," she finally asked, after giving me an evil eye for a minute or two.

Then she leaned over a little, and sniffed and changed her request:

"On second thought, take me to the shower Jack. You stink!"

And she again kissed me so tenderly.

I tried to stand up, holding her and actually managed to make it half-way to the shower, but my arm finally gave way. It felt a lot better, but I knew it would still be a little time before strength in that arm was restored.

Jiao ran into the kitchen, and grabbed some plastic wrap and covered the bandage to keep it from getting wet, and the two of us took our first shower together.

I love making love in a shower, but in this case I was determined to make love to Jiao back in "our" bed. I wanted to be as gentle with her as I could, and was afraid that standing up, or even sitting down on the bench in the shower, might be too rough on her. So other than spending about 10 minutes washing her breasts and especially her nipples, I pretty much kept my hands to myself.

Unfortunately, Jiao had no such self-imposed constraints.

She kept her hands on my penis, and continuously reached down and cupped my balls in her hands. Then she bent over and started taking me as deeply as she could into her mouth.

The more I protested we needed to go to bed, the more determined she seemed to be that we should make love in the shower.

She kept trying to take more and more of me into her mouth.

I pretty much knew she would never be able to deep-throat me, since I thought she was far too small, so when after about 10 minutes of constant suction my penis did slip into her throat I was amazed.

It felt so incredible I knew I would not be able to last, but when I tried to tell her I was close, she started sucking even harder.

I filled her mouth with my seed, and she swallowed every drop.

When she finished, she pulled my head down and we kissed deeply. I could get used to tasting myself in her mouth.

Then she looked at me, smiled and said so sweetly, "Well, I guess that is it for the night."

I looked at her and had an answer.

"I don't know how much American slang you understand . . ." I started, but she interrupted me.

"Hey, we get to watch imperialistic, decadent, warmongering American films," she said.

"Okay, let's see if you understand this: Now I am going to take you into my bed and I am going to screw your little Communist brains out!" I declared.

She laughed so delightfully, and dropped her voice several octaves deeper.

I was stunned to hear her actually do a credible impression of Robert Duvall, talking to John Wayne in the movie True Grit. I found out later that she loved horses, and was a real fan of Westerns!

"I call that bold talk for a one-armed fat man." she said, then added, "Besides, my brains aren't that little!"

We both erupted into laughter. I mean technically, Duvall said "one-eyed" but with my injured arm I knew why she had changed it.

"And I am not fat," I told her, and I wasn't. I had kept myself in very good shape since leaving the Marines.

Then I pulled her against me and kissed her deeply and passionately. As we were kissing, I brought her hand down to my cock which was already nearly at full-mast again.

"You're already hard," she said in amazement.

"And now I AM going to screw your brains out," I told her.

We quickly dried off, then I let her walk ahead of me. Her butt was so sexy!

When we reached our bed, I again covered every inch of her face with my kisses, including her neck and also reamed out her ears. I found out she had incredibly sensitive ears!

I attacked her breasts, and was soon licking and sucking on her nipples. I was actually being a little more forceful than I had been the night before, but I could tell she loved the increased level of force I was using.

She had an orgasm, just from my licking and sucking on her breasts.

My tongue was soon deep inside her, and I brought her to a half-dozen orgasms. I also found out her clit was more sensitive than in most women. Just a few licks, or a hard suck on it almost guaranteed she would go off.

Tonight I started using my fingers. First one, then a second, while keeping my tongue buried inside her.

By the time I was lined up with her center and ready to enter her, she had lost almost all of her English speaking skills.

When I pushed inside her, it was still incredibly tight, but nothing like last night had been.

It didn't take long and I was as deep as I could go, then I began trying to fulfill my promise to "screw her brains out."

By the time I had finished, some 20 minutes later, I had lost count of how many body-shaking, mind-blowing, convulsive orgasms she had had.

Did I screw her brains out?

Quite possibly, because by the time I had finished and filled her insides with my own cum, she had lost both her English and Chinese language skills!

The last ten minutes the only sounds she had been able to make were almost animalistic cries and screams of pleasure, and soon even those stopped as her mouth was opened in a circle, but no sounds were coming out.

I pulled her over on top of me, and for the next 10 minutes the only sound Jiao made was quiet gasps.

Finally, Jiao leaned up a little and looked at me with such a stunned look of amazement and love.

"Can you put my brains back in now?" she asked.

Then we were both laughing again, and exchanging kisses.

"I never thought . . . I never dreamed . . . I never imagined ANYTHING could feel like that," she said, and again kissed me.

"Thank you, thank you for loving me so much," she said, and she was soon asleep still lying on top of me.

I soon followed her into dreamland, but not before wondering what I had ever done to deserve someone like this, such true, unconditional love.

I woke up, I assumed the next morning, to the most incredible feeling.

I looked down, and Jiao was kneeling between my knees and had taken me deep in her mouth.

When she saw that I was awake, she stopped and moved up on the bed until she was beside me, and gave me a wonderful kiss.

"I have already taken a shower, and have been waiting for you to wake up," she said. "I finally decided to wake you up like this!"

I told her how wonderful it felt to be woken up like that, then asked the obvious question.

"How do you feel, down there? Are you sore?" I inquired.

She blushed.

"Not sore, just a little more sensitive," she said, and told me how wonderful the night had been.

"Do you want to make love again?" I asked.

"Oh, Yes! I want to, but I am a little scared it might be too much right now," Jiao answered.

"Well there is more than one way to bring pleasure, and you have already started half of it," I said. "Have you ever heard of '69'?"

She shook her head, and soon I was showing her exactly what that meant. She was on top, and my tongue was deep inside her, while she was taking me as deeply as she could into her mouth.

Since she had told me that she was really sensitive this morning, I was trying to not put too much pressure on her clitoris, but she still had several orgasms before I again filled her mouth with cum. She continued to suck on me while I softened, then she twisted around until we were kissing again.

We could both taste each other.

"If that is only 69, what is 100?" she asked with a grin.

I burst out laughing, and told her again how much I loved her, how truly happy I was for the first time in my life, and how I always wanted to be with her.

She was just about to answer me, no doubt with similar sentiments, when her stomach growled!

Her face turned red as she blushed.

"Didn't I feed you enough just now?" I asked, and we were both laughing again.

We got up and put some clothes on, then walked toward the kitchen holding hands.

It was with some amazement that I realized it was not the morning of our third day there, but only still the night of our second day.

In the confines of the totally enclosed basement, day and night didn't really have much meaning.

Since it was the quickest thing to make, I cooked bacon and eggs, with toast, but this time I laid out some more substantial fare from the sub-zero degree freezer.

After we had finished eating, Jiao started asking questions about the basement, and cabin above.

"Did you build this?" she asked.

I laughed, and said that no, it had been built in the 1950s, by one of the most amazing and colorful characters to come back from the Second World War.

I then told her the story of Theodore Roosevelt Rutledge.

His father had actually served as one of the "Rough Riders" who were a group of men who had served during the Spanish-American War under the command of Theodore Roosevelt.

His father had so admired Roosevelt, that when he had a son, he named him after the man who would one day serve as President of the United States.

Some of the story I had heard directly from Rutledge himself, some I had read in old newspaper accounts, and some in still classified files.

Rutledge had graduated in May, 1941 with a degree in art history, and accepted a teaching job at a very small college here in his native North Carolina. At the time, the job paid next to nothing so teachers were actually expected to take a second job to make ends meet.

On December 7, 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.

As soon as I mentioned the Japanese, Jiao shivered.

"I HATE the Japanese," she declared, adding that she had grandparents from Nanking.

I immediately understood. I was something of a student of military history and warfare, especially World War II. If you have never heard of, nor read anything about "The Rape of Nanking," about what the Japanese did to the residents of that city in China, then you really need to read it. But not on a full stomach, because it is almost guaranteed to make you throw up.

Rutledge volunteered for the Army the next day, and with his college degree he was immediately sent to Officer Candidate School. From the middle of 1942 to almost the end of the war, Rutledge fought in almost every major battle in Europe, being wounded on four occasions and receiving multiple medals for bravery.

During the D-Day Invasion at Normandy, Rutledge, now a Colonel, landed at Omaha Beach where he received his fourth wound.

As soon as it became apparent the D-Day Invasion was going to be successful, the Army began looking for men with specialized knowledge. It was well known that the Nazis had stolen priceless artwork from every museum in every country they occupied, and now the Allies needed people with knowledge of art to begin searching for and recovering those pieces of art.

With a degree in art history, plus such a distinguished war record, Rutledge was a natural.

He was soon assigned to the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives unit, which had actually been created in 1943.

Rutledge was one of the most successful of the roughly 400 specialists who were trying to located stolen Nazi art. He literally was responsible for returning hundreds of pieces of art, worth hundreds of millions to dollars to their rightful owners, which in most cases were museums.

He continued serving as a "Monument Man," as the group came to be known, even after the war.

Those are the facts. Those are the points all agree on.

After Rutledge returned to North Carolina in 1947, he quickly became one of the largest and richest art dealers in the United States.

He left in 1941, so poor he had to work two jobs. He returned six years later as one of the richest men in the United States.

Within two years, there was a lot of speculation that perhaps Rutledge had not returned all the art treasurers he found.

"Many of those art treasures belonged to prominent Jewish families. And in a lot of cases, the entire family died in Nazi concentration camps, so there were no survivors to return the artwork to. Along with the art work, there were also frequently found large amounts of gold, diamonds, rubies, pearls and other gems," I said.

In 1950, I told Jiao, the United States began an investigation into Rutledge and his business.

"He was outraged. He had been wounded four times, fighting for his country, earned numerous medals for bravery, and now his government was investigating him," I told her.

Rutledge had spent a small fortune in legal fees, fighting the government, and 12 months later the government was unable to prove anything.

But in 1953, they began another investigation. Again he spent a small fortune in legal fees, but the government was unable to come up with a single charge.

"This was also the same time that the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union was really heating up, and many people in American had started building bomb shelters," I continued.

"What if you had unlimited funds, and while you might not be sure the Soviets were out to get you, well you were convinced your own government was?" I asked.

"This is the result," I said.

I also explained that the shelter had been designed by the top experts of the day, and was supposed to be able to survive a near direct hit from an atomic bomb.

I told Jiao that each of the four walls was composed of 18 inches of reinforced concrete, six inches of solid lead, then another 18 inches of reinforced concrete.

"The floor is 24 inches of reinforced concrete, and the ceiling is 18 inches of reinforced concrete, 12 inches of lead plates, and another 12 inches of concrete. On top of that is two inches of solid steel plates.

"Inside the walls of the cabin upstairs are two inches of solid steel, the ceiling is one inch of solid steel, and the windows are bulletproof glass.

"The cabin itself won't necessarily stop everything, but it will at least slow them down," I said, "and then they would have to try to penetrate this shelter – if they happen to know about it."

"What about electricity and water?" she asked.

"Water comes from a well several thousand feet directly beneath us, and electricity comes from an array of camouflaged solar panels several thousand feet up in the mountains.

The solar panels were attached to four giant batteries, which stored the electricity.

"Each battery could supply enough electricity to run this basement for a month, or even longer if you conserve energy," I said.

"Heating and cooling is provided by Geo-thermal systems buried underground – deep, deep underground," I stressed.

I told her that Rutledge had continued to provide updates and upgrades for the basement throughout his life.

"So, how did you end up with it," Jiao asked.

"He was having a heart attack, and I saved his life," I said.

I had been driving through the mountains, and saw a car pulled over to the side and a man slumped over the steering wheel. I called 911 and performed CPR until they arrived.

I had given my name the EMTs who responded, and after Rutledge recovered he tried to find me. It took him three months, since my name is not on any tax roll, voter I.D. roll, or anything else.

"I also only pay cash for everything, never use credit cards within a hundred miles of my home," I said.

All Rutledge had was a name, his description of me, and what kind of vehicle I had been driving – and a lot of money.

"He was not only an art historian and art dealer, he was also an excellent artist himself," I said.

"One day I stopped at a nearby convenience store, and saw a painting of my face, with the caption 'Do you know this man? Cash reward offered.' In my line of work . . . well in my old line of work that is not a good thing."

I told her I had removed the painting, found out who he was, then drove to his house.

When I found where he lived, I was amazed. There was a little more than a thousand feet of property along a road, and the entire front was guarded by a concrete and brick fence eight feet tall, topped by razor wire. The wrought iron gate looked strong enough to stop anything, short of a bulldozer or tank.

From what I could see through the gate, inside was another fence only chain link this time. That second fence was about 30 feet inside and was also eight feet tall, and again topped with razor wire. The two fences must have cost a fortune.

I had originally planned on paying him an unannounced visit, since I didn't know who I was dealing with, but I assumed anyone who would go to that length to ensure his privacy must also have other "unseen" security measures as well.

I finally just drove up to the gate, then called the number he had left on the poster.

Rutledge opened the front gate and I drove through before having to stop at the second gate. The second gate didn't open until the first gate had closed.

"I had to drive nearly a mile before I came to his house, although house might not be the proper term," I told Jiao.

"It wasn't quite an English castle . . . but close," I added, "containing some 30 different rooms and the entire front was covered in ivy."

"Rutledge had built it after World War II, but it looked as though it had been there for a couple of hundred years," I said.

"His first words to me when I finally met him were, 'You have to be some kind of government agent.'"

I told her we started talking and I really found myself liking him.

"We talked for several hours, and I gave him my cell phone number, and asked him to have all the paintings removed. He agreed, then called me a couple of weeks later and asked if I would be interested in taking a drive in the mountains," I said.

"I was the first person he had invited into this basement in over 30 years, and he explained why he had built it and how secure it was.

"I fell in love with the valley outside the first time I saw it, and he could see that. I told him to let me know if he ever wanted to sell it. I might not be able to afford to pay too much, but I would pay what I could and try to finance the rest.

"Rutledge was an old, old man, and when I said that, he told me he probably wasn't going to live long enough to sell it since the doctors had only given him six months.

"He asked me what I did for a living, and for the very first time I told someone what I did for a living – well, what I used to do for a living. In fact, for the very first time I told someone my complete life history. He was impressed.

"When he asked how much I could afford, I said half-a-million, which was my entire life savings at the time, and he stuck his hand out and said sold. We arranged the transfer of funds, which was very complicated since neither of us wanted our names associated with the property. He had the property for over 50 years, having inherited it, and yet his name was not currently on any deed or tax roll.

"We started coming up here every chance we had, and he showed me everything, and how it worked.

"Four months later he was dead," I concluded. "That was about eight months ago."

I continued to just sit at the table, remembering Rutledge.

Jiao got up, then sat down on my lap and gave me a toe-curling kiss!

"So, did he ever admit to stealing any of the treasurers?" she asked.

I laughed, and said not really.

"The closest he ever came was he once said 'you are only guilty if they can prove something,' so no he never really admitted anything," I told her.

"He was the closest thing I had to a father, since my own father died when I was 12," I told Jiao. "Even if he did steal treasurers after the war, it doesn't bother me.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 03



"To tell you the truth, Jiao," I added, "I really came to love that old man.

"Anyway, I still haven't shown you everything," I said.

"Would you like to see the brains of this place?"

When Jiao said yes, I grabbed her hand and we walked over to a wall that was filled, floor to ceiling, with thousands of cans of food, dozens of boxes of cereal, bags of flour, corn meal, sugar and everything else you might need to live for months at a time. The entire wall was about 12 feet wide, with each section of shelving being about 4 feet wide.

I walked over to the last row of shelving, and reached down and picked it up slightly. The shelf rose up about two inches, then I pulled and it rotated outward since it was hinged.

On the other side was a small room, filled on all three sides with monitors. There were also desks on all three walls, with several computers on each desk.

Jiao gasped when she saw it.

"These computers actually run the entire system, from electrical to heating and cooling," I began explaining.

"There are over 100 cameras scattered through the property, including regular, night-vision and infra-red, and all the cameras can be operated from here.

"There is one monitor here for each camera." I said.

All the monitors had been off when we walked in, so I touched a button on one of the computers and all 100 came on, each with a different view of different parts of the property.

I showed Jiao the cameras covering the dirt road we drove in on, the ones covering the old chicken house where my SUV was parked, cameras covering all sides of the cabin, and others that just had views of the valley.

"Each camera is attached to a small parabolic microphone so you can even have sound, although the sound part has rather limited range – only about 30 or 40 feet from the camera."

"This is incredible," Jiao said.

"What is really incredible is that each camera also acts as a motion sensor. If anything moves within camera range, the computer will sound an alarm, and automatically turn all the monitors on," I said.

"What about animals," Jiao asked, "like the deer in the valley when we came in?"

I explained that Rutledge had a computer program that could automatically detect if the motion was coming from something on four legs – or two.

"It's not infallible, it still gives false warnings, but it makes it really hard for anyone, or anything, to sneak up on us," I said.

I touched another button on the computer and suddenly I was connected to the Internet.

"There are also several camouflaged satellite dishes scattered around the property, so you can surf the Web, or check your e-mail, and send messages anywhere in the world," I added.

"If you send or receive e-mail, can't they track where the messages originated from?" she asked.

"Normally, yes," I said, "but you have to remember how much Rutledge distrusted the government.

"I am not a computer geek, but somehow this is setup in a way that every message sent will appear to come from somewhere else. One message might seem to originate in Kansas, the next in Mexico, and the next in Switzerland," I added.

"Rutledge's favorite trick was to have at least half the messages seem to originate from somewhere around Washington, D.C. He always said that would probably drive the bastards crazy" I added.

Jiao looked at me for a moment, then asked a question: "Would it be dangerous to try to send a message to my daughter?"

Jiao had already told me that her daughter was in Australia, hiding with a trusted family that had also defected from China. She knew her government, once it realized she was gone, would start looking for a mother and daughter. So they separated, but not before cutting her daughter's long black hair, and dressing her up to look like a boy.

"Not at all dangerous to send messages," I said. "Streaming video might be pushing it, but messages are perfectly safe."

Jiao composed an e-mail message to her daughter, then sent it to the family that was hiding and protecting her daughter.

Not knowing how long it might take to get a response, Jiao then began examining all the computers, and learning more about using them.

It didn't take long for me to show her everything I knew, and I was amazed to not only see Jiao quickly learn everything I had shown her, but then she started showing me things the system could do that I never knew about. I don't even think Rutledge actually knew just how sophisticated a system he actually had.

I had told Jiao that I was not a computer geek, but it quickly became obvious that Jiao was – an incredibly brave and beautiful computer geek – but also a very skilled computer geek.

As it turned out, it took about two hours for Jiao's daughter to respond and send a message back. It was a short message, basically just "How are you Mom? I love you and miss you," but it was so powerful that Jiao was crying her eyes out to hear from her.

I just sat down, pulled Jiao in my lap and let her cry.

Once Jiao had recovered some, she wrote back and told her daughter that she was doing fine, and really, really, really missed her as well, and that anytime she wanted to, she could send her an e-mail.

Once she had sent that e-mail, Jiao sat back down in my lap and gave me a toe-curling kiss, then ordered me to take her back to bed, daring me to try to screw her brains out again.

She didn't even have to double-dog dare me!

By now we were really getting used to each other's bodies, and as wonderful as our love-making had been before, it was even better this time. And when we finished and Jiao had managed to regain her English language skills somewhat, she again asked me to put her brains back in place!

Laughing, I gave her beautiful butt a little swat, making her jump and then she started tickling me. And I started tickling her back.

We had just finished having wild, passionate sex, but tickling each other soon had us both wanting a second go around.

I wasn't complete hard yet, so Jiao bent over and took me completely in her mouth, and down her throat. I still don't see how she can do that, because she is so tiny!

Up to now, all our actual episodes of actual sex had been strictly in the missionary position. I mean we had pleasured each other orally, and had engaged in a wonderful sixty-nine, but whenever I actually entered her, it was with Jiao on her back, and me on top.

Now, I decided it was time to show Jiao some other positions.

We began, as we always did, with me on top. After I had stretched her with my fingers (giving her several orgasms in the process), I now easily buried myself in her still incredibly tight, but hot vagina.

After letting her get used to me, I told her to put her arms around my neck, and hold on!

I slide both hands under her butt, then raised both of us until I was on my knees, with Jiao's arms around my neck, and impaled on my dick.

When I raised her up, she gave a small scream of pleasure as I went even deeper, then started raising her butt up and down. I would raise her up until I was barely inside her, then almost drop her down onto me.

Soon she screamed as another orgasm racked her body, and bit down on my good shoulder.

I knew I would not be able to keep this up for long, since my wounded arm was already starting to hurt some, so I again raised her up and slid both my legs out from under me so I was now sitting down on the bed. Then I lowered her down and laid back until she was straddling my body.

I could see that yet another position change – not that much different from the last one, but still different enough, was almost starting to overload her body's ability to react, so I just laid completely still until she was again used to the feeling.

"Now," I said, "it's time you started earning your keep around here – I'm tired of doing all the hard work!" Then I swatted her butt!

She grinned, and then she started to move – Oh, God, did she start to move!

At first she just started to rotate her hips around, and was soon gasping at the feeling of me swirling around her insides. Then she started – slowly and carefully – raising herself up slightly and back down. As she got used to the new sensations, she began to experiment more, and was soon using her legs to raise herself up before slamming down on me again.

She was fucking herself a lot more forcefully than I would have dared fuck her at this point.

Every few minutes Jiao would have another orgasm. Her entire body would go ramrod still for a moment, the Jiao would scream out loud and her entire body would shudder with massive orgasms.

I was actually starting to get concerned. How much could her body take?

As difficult as it was for me, I had not touched her with my hands since I had laid on my back, so I reached up and started brushing one hand against both her nipples. Jiao's body is so slim and slender I could actually play with both her nipples using just one hand.

I took my other hand and lightly touched her clitoris, and when I did she screamed even louder and I think blacked out for a few seconds. Her body just sort of melted down onto mine, until her breasts were pressed against my chest.

I hadn't cum yet, so I slowly began moving in and out of her body, and she could only look at me with amazement in her eyes. Finally she managed to gasp, "You haven't . . . you haven't yet!"

To tell you the truth, it only took a minute or so before I had my own release. As I filled her with my cum, she had another orgasm of her own, and then fell asleep on top of me.

I was actually worried that I had done too much to Jiao. I just held her on top of me, and let her sleep for about 30 minutes.

Unfortunately I had to go use the bathroom, but when I tried to ease her off to the side, she woke up and her first words were, "Oh, Jack, please, don't ever stop making love to me."

I assured her I had no intention of ever stopping loving her just as I was now, and she leaned up and gave me a very tender kiss.

It seems a shame to interrupt such a tender and meaningful moment like this, but dang it, I really, really had to use the bathroom!

She laughed when I told her and said she did also, but she let me go first.

After we had both refreshed ourselves, Jiao went back to the computer room when she found three different messages from her daughter. After answering those messages, Jiao started really exploring the computer system for a couple of hours while I mostly just sat there and admired this incredibly beautiful, incredibly smart woman.

I knew it was about time for us to eat, but when I asked Jiao if she wanted to cook something, since she might be getting tired of my cooking, or if she wanted me to cook, again she amazed me.

I was about to learn that she had an incredible gift of impersonating voices.

What I heard was Clint Eastwood's voice saying a line from the movie "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," with two slight changes.

"You see, in this world there are two kinds of people, my friend: those with loaded computers, and those who cook. You cook!"

Of course in the movie, Eastwood's character, "The Man With No Name," is saying this to Tuco as he is throwing him a shovel, with a gun aimed at him: "You see, in this world there are two kinds of people, my friend: those with loaded guns, and those who dig. You dig!"

I nearly laughed my head off – then I cooked. We had steak and potatoes.

From that point on, for the next several days, that became our routine. We would wake up in the morning and make love. While I was cooking breakfast, Jiao would be in the computer room until the food was ready. After eating, we would usually take a shower, which usually involved making love again in the shower.

Then we would spend a couple of hours in the computer room. Afterward, we would make love.

By then, we needed energy so I would cook lunch, and then we would usually take a nap, just holding each other.

After an hour or two, we would wake up and make love, then head for the computer room.

A few hours later I would cook us something for dinner, and after eating we would take a shower together, which usually ended up with us making love.

A few more hours in the computer room, and we would go to bed where we would make love, then fall asleep holding each other.

After only two or three days like this, Jiao asked me one morning if I had seen any unusual looking radios anywhere in the basement.

It actually wasn't a radio, but I had seen what looked like old headphones, but they had an antenna wire that stretched out to two or three feet.

When I brought them into to Jiao, she really got excited.

"If this is what I think it is Jack, then you can wear the headphones outside, and I can talk to you from this room," she explained. She had found a computer program on the computer that seemed to indicate this was possible.

She dug through the box for a minute, then held up a small microphone attached to a black strap.

"And if this is what I think it is, then you can wear this around your neck, and you can talk to me," Jiao said. "You don't even have to talk out loud – I think if you whisper, I can hear you."

Of course both of wanted to test the headphone and microphone, to make sure it would actually do what she thought it would.

By now it had been five days or so since either of us had left the basement. I grabbed my Heckler and Koch UMP sub-machine gun, and my sniper rifle, along with half a dozen clips for both.

Jiao followed me up to the cabin where I donned the earphones and microphone, then she ran back downstairs to the computer room. But only after promising me she would lock everything up tight.

In a few minutes I could hear her talking to me through the earphones, and when I spoke, or even whispered, she could hear what I was saying.

We wanted to test what kind of distance we could communicate over, so I began walking to the end of the valley, and even started climbing some of the mountains around us.

No matter where I went, I could hear Jiao, and she could hear me. And the truly amazing was that no matter where I went there was at least one camera somewhere, so she could follow my movements.

I even walked all the way to the chain baring access to the property, and we continued a conversation the entire time.

But when I started walking back, Jiao proved that I may have actually created a monster!

It was three miles from the chain to the cabin, and the entire time she told me in great, graphic detail what she was going to do to me with her mouth, breasts and hands when I came back. And she made sure to tell me she wanted us both naked while she did those things.

I hadn't walked a half-mile before I was hard as steel! And it isn't easy to walk that far when you having a raging hard-on!

Turnabout is fair play, so then I started telling her in great, graphic detail what I was going to do to her when I got back to the basement.

To my amazement, when I got close to the cabin, I found Jiao laying on a blanket in the meadow – and only wearing a set of earphones like I was.

At first I was worried since I knew the Chinese were probably still looking for her, but Jiao told me she had programmed the computer to send any warnings to both sets of earphones.

It only took me about 30 seconds until I had all my clothes off, and Jiao and I made love on the blanket for at least an hour or more, doing everything both of us had said we were going to do to the other, and wearing only earphones.

I found out in the first five minutes I didn't like earphones, at least when making love, but knew we had little choice but to wear them.

I did have a certain degree of revenge against Jiao for teasing me so much while I was walking. It was quite unintentional, but she ended up (pun intended) being on top for most of that hour, and actually her butt got sunburned since it was a bright, sunny day!

I really had a lot of fun with that the next day!

By now Jiao was spending hours and hours on the computers each day, and later that afternoon she called me into the computer room.

"Did Rutledge ever say anything about building a second shelter anywhere in the mountains?" she asked.

I told her that, no, he never said anything about a second shelter, then asked her why?

"Well, I have found several references to 'Fortress Appalachia,'" she said, "and just assumed it was referring to this place.

"Just a few minutes ago, however, I found a reference to the 'small shelter in the meadow,' and it is apparently under a cabin," Jiao explained.

"This is the only shelter under a cabin, so why did he call it the 'small shelter?" she asked.

I admitted I had no idea, but suggested we start looking – just in case.

For the next week, Jiao and I began taking turns with one of us walking outside, while the other monitored all the cameras from the computer room. As much as I was enjoying my time in the basement with Jiao, it was wonderful being in the fresh air again.

We were primarily concerned with ensuring that the cameras covered every bit of property so no one could sneak up on us, but we were both also trying to find some evidence of a second, larger shelter.

We began naming different views as seen from the cameras, although I was starting to get concerned with the direction Jiao's mind was turning. I would see a rock formation or a tree, and I might name it something like "Eagle's Beak," but Jiao would see rock formations, or trees, and name them "Big Dick," Medium Dick," or "Little Dick."

After insisting that I tell her all the slang names for different parts of the male and female bodies, she even named one rock formation "Pussy Lips," and would use other equally graphic names as well. I drew the line when she wanted to start naming things using the "c" word. I have always found that offensive, and knew most women did as well.

Little did I know that our innocent (and some not so innocent) and playful exercise in naming these trees and rock formations would soon save both our lives.



East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 04



I had told Jiao that even if the Chinese, or the traitor that sold out the location of the safe house, found our hidden valley, it would take at least two, or probably three weeks.

It actually took 13 days.

We had just finished breakfast one morning when Jiao suddenly jumped up. Her face turned white as snow, and she blurted out, "They're here!"

I didn't even bother asking who "they" were, or if she was sure, rather I only asked "How many?"

"A bunch of men," was all she could offer.

About 30 seconds later, the alarms started sounding from the computer room.

We ran into the computer room just in time to see three SUVs pull up to the chains blocking access to the property.

Five guys got out of each vehicle, and 14 were Chinese, while one was white. The white guy was about six feet, four inches tall, and probably didn't weigh more than150 pounds.

Thanks to the cameras, and parabolic microphones, we could see and hear everything they were discussing.

A couple of the Chinese guys wanted to cut the chains and drive on, while some others were concerned if they did that, we might be able to hear them coming -- especially considering how badly rutted the road was. An SUV driving over the ruts was going to make a lot of noise, so it was a legitimate concern.

They finally decided to walk, but would take everything -- including all the plastic explosives -- they had brought with them.

I looked at Jiao, and she was looking back at me.

We had actually discussed this very possibility a few days earlier when she asked me just how safe our hideout was.

As I told her, while it might actually be able to withstand the blast from a near direct atomic explosion, thanks to modern weapons of warfare, it could probably be breached in a matter of hours.

Modern plastic explosives were infinitely more powerful than anything that had existed when the basement had been built, other than a nuclear explosion.

If they started using charges against the ceiling of the basement -- well it would hold for a while but not forever. Especially if they knew how to shape the charges so the blast would be more directional.

Jiao and I had discussed the best defensive positions, and I will admit I was somewhat conflicted. The road the Chinese men were on gradually narrowed, and both sides of the ground starting quickly getting higher. Just before they reached the valley, the passage the road and creek ran through was only about 75 feet wide, and on one side the mountain was several thousand feet high, while the other side was about 1,000 feet high.

They would find themselves coming through a bottleneck, and I could probably take out half of the force, but there weren't a lot of secure firing positions for me. I would be at my most vulnerable if I tried to take them on at the bottleneck.

If I let them come on into the valley, then I had hundreds of well-concealed firing positions, but they also had a valley that was almost half-a-mile wide to hide in.

Earlier I had made the statement that there was no way one man, no matter how good he might be with a sniper rifle, could take on a large group of well-armed men, especially if he was on unfamiliar ground.

Well, number one I was now on ground that I was very familiar with.

And number two, I wasn't alone. I had Jiao who could follow the movements of all the men through the extensive system of cameras, and could even hear their conversations if they were fairly close to the camera.

The most important thing was to hit them hard at the beginning, and then keep them off balance.

I grabbed my sniper rifle, my silenced Beretta, and my Heckler & Koch UMP pistol, and Jiao went up with me to the cabin. Before leaving she kissed me, and told me if I didn't come back safe and sound she would make my afterlife miserable!

Oh, and before we left the basement I sent an e-mail to Colonel James, and gave him our coordinates. In the e-mail I wrote that we were under attack by a large force of Chinese men, and one very tall and skinny white guy.

I climbed the sides of one of the mountains encircling the valley, and made sure I was completely concealed. Jiao was very helpful in that regard since she could see me from a number of cameras. She was also keeping me informed of the movements of the MSS men.

I was heartened to hear Jiao tell me they only had two men walking about 50 feet in front of the others, and the others were all in a group. If they were being that sloppy, or overconfident, then it only made my job easier.

Jiao had provided a running commentary on their movements, so I was not surprised to see the first two men come out of the woods by the same path Jiao and I had first used. After they had spread out some, the main body of men came out of the woods, and they were walking close together.

Many, many years earlier I had watched an old, old movie about Sergeant Alvin York starring Gary Cooper. Sgt. York had been awarded the Medal of Honor for leading a handful of men during World War I and capturing 32 machine guns, killing 28 Germans, and taking 132 other Germans prisoner. The name of the movie was simply, "Sergeant York."

I didn't know how historically accurate the movie was, but in one scene Sgt. York sees a line of German troops firing on his men from a trench. The trench angled backward, so the first man was about a foot in front of, and two or three feet to the side of the next man, and so forth all the way to the end of the trench. That meant the first man in the trench could not actually see the person closest to him, and the second man could not see the third man, all the way back.

York was an excellent marksman, and he started returning fire, but deliberately started firing at the rear most end of the trench. Since the next guy did not know his buddy to his left had been shot, he just kept shooting. Eventually York killed nearly all the Germans.

Finally, however, the Germans who were left threw down their weapons and surrendered.

I had often wondered if such a thing was even possible, and now I had the opportunity to try.

Just as I was about to start shooting, Jiao said, in an incredibly realistic Clint Eastwood voice: "Get three coffins ready." That, of course, is from the movie, "Fistful of Dollars."

Like Sgt. York, I began with the furthermost guy to the rear, then as each was shot, moved forward. In the first nine seconds I hit six of the Chinese.

Most of the remaining men dropped to the ground, but two started running. One guy was running back the way they came, so I quickly dropped him, then shot the other runner. Since he was running, I had to lead him slightly, but he also fell.

Less than 30 seconds into the fight, and I had killed or wounded over half of the attacking force.

After that, all I had to do was be patient, and wait for Jiao to tell me where the MSS men were moving.

In the next 15 minutes, I had two more hits, and was waiting for another man to move out from behind a rock. Jiao had told me exactly where he was hiding, "behind Pussy Lips," but all I could see was the toe of one boot.

After waiting for him to move, well, hell, I shot him in the toes.

No doubt shocked, he stood up -- and quickly fell down from a bullet to the brain.

By now, 11 combatants were down, with five more to go.

Three of the men tried to make a run for it, back the way they came, but before any of them had run 50 feet, all three were down.

That left two, including the white guy.

Now, the white guy and one of the Chinese guys threw out their weapons and raised their hands over their head.

I yelled for both to start walking towards the cabin. By the time they were halfway there, I had them stop and start taking their clothes off. I wanted to make sure they weren't hiding any other weapons.

Both men started removing their shirts, but then the Chinese guy pulled out a hidden pistol and started firing in my general direction. Not the smartest thing I have ever seen anyone do. He was dead before he fired three shots.

The white guy practically ripped all his clothes off, until he was naked. I then yelled for him to start walking closer to the cabin, and had him stop about 50 feet away.

Jiao choose that moment to continue the Clint Eastwood dialogue from Fistful of Dollars: "My mistake . . . four coffins."

I told Jiao I was coming in, but had her quickly check all the cameras to make sure none of the other Chinese men had moved. When she assured me they hadn't I yelled at the white guy not to move, since my partner also had him covered. That wasn't true, of course, since "my partner," was in the basement, but he had no way to know that.

It took about 15 minutes for me to climb down from my position and walk most of the way to the cabin.

I was still about 50 feet away, when the door opened and Jiao walked out.

She wasn't holding any weapon, and started walking towards the white guy. I yelled for her to stop, but he didn't. She kept walking until she was only about five feet from him.

I am trying to close the distance between us and keep him covered at the same time. Since I wasn't watching the ground, I stepped into a small hole, and went flying face first into the dirt.

A little stunned I jumped back up, but had lost the Heckler & Koch UMP pistol and sniper rifle.

I could hear Jiao, in a very angry voice, asking him why he had betrayed his country, and her, by telling MSS where the safe house was.

This guy was well over a foot taller than Jiao, and I am sure he thought if he could grab her that he could use her as a human shield against me.

As soon as the guy began to move, the incredible happened.

Jiao leaped straight up in the air until she was higher up than he was tall, then one foot lashed out, catching him squarely in the side of the head.

I knew his neck was broken before he even hit the ground.

I ran to Jiao and held her, then asked "Why?"

"I was afraid you would take him prisoner," Jiao said.

"I owed Sam and Betty, at the safe house, and the three guards to make sure he didn't leave here alive," she explained.

That was how I found out Jiao was a fifth-degree black belt in Chinese wushu, which is usually incorrectly called Kung-Fu here.

Jiao and I just held each other for a few minutes, then I asked her to run downstairs and get my cell phone and battery.

After putting the battery back in, I called the number I had for Colonel James. Since we were not on a secure line, we both had to be a little circumspect with what we were saying.

When the Colonel answered, I was a little shocked to actually hear what he sounded like.

The scrambled calls always distorted his voice, so I really didn't know what he sounded like.

After using certain code words that would positively identify both of us, I asked the Colonel if he had received my message.

He said yes, and that help was on the way.

"I don't want to brag, but I found some really good, really special people to help," he said.

Again, since we were not on a secure line, I knew he was sending me a message hidden in his words.

When he said "brag," I understood he meant Fort Bragg, the massive army base in North Carolina.

"Really good, really special people," I had no doubt meant Delta Force, the Army's equivalent to the Navy's Seals, or the Marine's Force Recon.

"Tell them to take their time," I explained.

"All the heavy lifting has been done, and the biggest thing I need now is help in taking out all the trash," I said.

I knew the Colonel would understand that the MSS agents were all dead.

"How many bags of trash?" he asked.

"Fifteen," I answered.

There was a prolonged silence.

"Did I understand that you already have 15 bags of trash that need to be picked up?" he asked. I could hear the surprise in his voice.

"That's right, but I had some really good help," I answered, and smiled at Jiao. She smiled back.

He told me to hold on for a minute, then came back several minutes later.

"Your help should be there in about two hours," the Colonel said.

We exchanged good-byes and I ended the call.

And took the battery out again.

Jiao raised an eyebrow as she looked at me.

"I might have spent too much time around Rutledge," I told her, "but suddenly I don't trust the government any more than he did. I trust Colonel James, but he also has to report to his superiors."

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

I told Jiao I thought I might have figured out where the second shelter was, if it actually existed.

I asked if she could erase everything on all the computers, so that no one, no matter how good they were, could ever retrieve the information.

Jiao actually said that while it might be possible, the only real way of ensuring no one could ever access the information was to take the hard drives out of the computers, so I told her to go ahead and get started on that.

She said it would take about 15 minutes, so while she was busy with that I began hauling out all the weapons and ammo I could carry, and ran and put them in our SUV.

Then I ran back and grabbed as much food, canned and frozen as I could carry and put it in the SUV.

By now Jiao had finished, and helped carry some food as well.

I also grabbed several large boxes of pepper, and started sprinkling it inside the basement and cabin.

"In case they bring dogs," I explained, "the pepper will ruin their sense of smell. Saw it on an old movie."

One thing I had never understood was why there was even a chicken house on the property. While it is not at all unusual to find old, dilapidated chicken houses anywhere in the mountains, they are usually somewhere close to a house. In the old days, the family living in the house would take care of the chickens until they were large enough to take to a chicken processing plant.

But Rutledge told me his mother's family had owned all the land around here for well over 100 years, and that until he built the cabin, there had not been any house here at all.

No house, no one living in the valley, so why was there a chicken house?

Jiao and I began walking around the chicken house, and I asked her to try to use her ESP to see if she could sense anything.

"I know you said you can't control it, or make it work when you want it to, but just try to relax and see if you can sense anything," I advised her.

We walked completely around the chicken house, then went inside. But we could not find any kind of entrance to a buried underground bunker.

We finally walked back outside, and started widening our search area. The back of the collapsed part of the house was only about 50 feet from a near vertical slab of stone where the mountain started rising steeply upward.

Jiao suddenly stopped.

"I feel something Jack, but I'm not sure what," she said.

I started walking to the chicken house and tried raising some of the old, rusted pieces of tin.

"No, that's not it," she said, then turned around until she was staring at the slab of stone.

We walked over to the slab, and I picked up a fist-sized stone and started banging on the rock.

After a couple of minutes, we both heard the distinctive sound of metal being struck.

It only took a couple of more minutes before we figured out that part of the slab was actually steel and made to look like rock. I was finally able to find a small horizontal slit, just large enough to put my hand in, about three feet off the ground.

Inside was a lever, and when I pulled on it, the side of the slab opened up.

Before going inside, Jiao and I ran back to the SUV and grabbed everything we could and carried it to the opening into the mountain. It took a couple of trips, but soon we had everything.

I was worried about dogs being able to track our scent into the mountain, but didn't want to use pepper since that would be somewhat obvious if the dogs suddenly started sneezing and lost their scent. I didn't know quite what to do.

Jiao and I started into the side of the mountain, when I found a barrel filled with chicken feed.

"Rutledge, you are a genius," I said out loud, as I started laughing.

When Jiao asked what I was laughing about I explained.

"The chicken house is fake," I explained. "The only reason it is here is to provide a likely source for the hundreds of chickens still around."

I grabbed several handfuls of chicken feed, and went back outside where I started tossing the chicken feed on the ground.

Within a couple of minutes, hundreds of chickens were pecking at the ground, looking for the feed.

"Chickens are really nasty," I told Jiao. "The entire time they are feeding, they are also pooping, and the ammonia in the poop will ruin any dog's ability to track a scent as well. Plus the way the chickens are walking around, it will cover up any marks we might have made."

Jiao and I ran back inside and both brought out several handfuls of feed which we scattered around the ground.

Jiao and I figured out how to close the "door" in the side of the mountain, and were soon walking inside a very wide, but not very tall cave. It really was more of a tunnel than anything else. Luckily I had a flashlight with me.

About 50 feet inside the mountain, we came to the first of what would turn out to be four different steel doors.

Taped to the door was an envelope with my name on it.

I opened the envelope, and inside there was a letter from Rutledge.

Dear Jack,

I have been debating whether or not I should tell you about the real Fortress Appalachia, or not. As much as I wanted to, it is hard to break old habits. Even the old Army buddy who helped me build first the underground bunker, and a few years later this one, doesn't know what is inside.

Only a couple of years after this was built, he and most of his construction crew were killed in a plane crash, so nobody knows about this. The bunker under the cabin required so many people working, that a lot of people actually knew about it. Only a dozen people ever worked inside the mountain, and all but one was killed in that crash. It took years to complete, but the fewer people who knew about it, the better.

That one guy died in a car wreck a few years later, so I don't think anyone knows about this place.

Unlike the bunker, this place is powered by generators driven by water power, but with even more batteries since it is larger. The Geo-thermal system is actually inside the mountain, in some old caves. Since it is totally sealed off from the outside world, I don't think anyone can ever find it.

There is also a computer room with even more computers and monitors, so you can still have access to the outside world.

Since you are reading this, obviously you found some of the clues I left on the computer. I couldn't bring myself to tell you in person, but was hoping you would eventually figure out there was another, even more secure place in the valley.

Take care Jack. We only knew each other for a short while, but you really were like the son I always wished I had.

Teddy Rutledge.

I have to tell you that I had tears in my eyes reading the letter, and hearing Rutledge describe me as like a son to him.

Jiao just put her arms around me for a few minutes, but then I knew we had to move on. It probably wouldn't be too much longer until our "company" arrived, and I wanted to be ready when they got there.

Rutledge had left me a number of keys, and at least a half-dozen seemed to have no point, since I could never find a lock for them. But when I took the keys out of my pocket and started looking, I noticed a small number "1" scratched on one key.

When I tried it in the lock on the steel door, it opened.

After we opened the door, we carried all the food inside, then began looking around. I noticed a small switch above the door, and when I flipped it, lights came on inside the tunnel. The tunnel sloped slightly downhill, and we could see about a quarter mile into the distance. While there were lights every 50 feet or so, about a fourth of those lights were not working, so we could see some well-lit areas, and some that were very dark.




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 04



We carried all the food we could and began walking. Just over a quarter-mile inside, the tunnel curved to the right, and there was another door.

Again, one of my keys had a "2" scratched on it, and that key opened the door. I ran back up and brought the rest of our stuff down after locking the first door, then we entered the new section of tunnel. This time there were two switches over the door, one for turning off the lights behind us, and another for turning on the lights in front of us.

Now the tunnel began curving back and forth so we could only see 50 or 60 feet in front of us, and I again noticed that about a fourth of the lights were burned out.

We only had to walk a total of about 250 feet until we came to third steel door, again embedded in concrete like the first two.

Key number "3" opened that one as well, and now the tunnel was sloping slightly downward, and again curved some so we could not see too far ahead.

I turned off the lights behind us, and turned on the ones ahead, but not until we had brought all the food we were carrying with us inside, and I ran back for the rest.

Again, about a fourth of the lights were burned out, including the first four or five near the door.

This time we only had to walk about 100 feet until we came to the largest door yet. I found key number "4", but when I opened the door, all I could see was a huge pile of rocks from floor to ceiling. The tunnel was completely closed off.

"Must have been a cave-in recently," I told Jiao.

Jiao stood there for a minute or two, just looking at the jumble of rocks blocking the tunnel, then she smiled.

"No, Jack," she said, "this is a fake. Rutledge designed it like this to make everyone think this was as far as you could go."

Jiao started walking back to door number three, which thanks to the burned out bulbs, was completely dark.

Again, Jiao stood there for a few minutes, then pointed to the right of the door, where the concrete met the tunnel wall.

"The real entrance is there," she said.

I took my flashlight and began examining the walls, and it only took a few minutes until I found a narrow slit about three feet above the floor, just like the one outside.

Inside was a lever, and when I pulled it, the tunnel wall actually opened up.

On the other side was another tunnel, much wider and higher than the one we had been in. Also inside was a wheeled cart, so we dumped everything into the cart, then started exploring.

About a quarter-mile down that tunnel, we came to another door, but a simple wooden one this time, and no lock.

On the door was another letter addressed to me.

Dear Jack,

Don't ask me to explain, but I knew you would be able to find the real entrance. I have always had an almost sixth-sense about things like this, which was why I was so successful as a Monument Man.

Somehow I always knew where the Nazis would be most likely to hide their treasure.

When you open the door, be prepared to be amazed.

Just remember one thing, Jack, to thine own self be true.

Love, Theodore

"He must have had ESP as well," said Jiao.

There were two switches above this door as well, so I flipped one and the lights turned off in the tunnel we were in. I flipped the second switch. I could see lights behind the door, so Jiao and I opened the door together.

It was probably ten minutes before either of us could even speak!

Inside was a vast cavern. It must have been a quarter-mile wide and even longer than that. The ceiling had to be at least a 300 feet above us. The entire cavern was bathed in lights, illuminating everything inside.

It was beautiful, beyond belief. The lights were many different colors, and the combined effect was more like a cathedral than anything else.

Finally, I grabbed Jiao's hand and we walked inside.

We noticed several doors on both sides of us, so we just chose one at random.

Behind the first door was a complete furnished kitchen, with every amenity you could imagine. It had been built inside a large cave. The kitchen alone was larger than the entire underground complex had been under the cabin.

We left that room, and tried the next door.

Inside that was a living room. The furniture was older, but it was apparent that it had been chosen not only for durability, but comfort as well. There were three or four couches, at least a half-a-dozen chairs and recliners, and a number of tables. One entire wall of this cave was filled with what must have been thousands, or perhaps even tens of thousands of books.

We left that room and walked across the cavern to another door.

Inside that was a king size, four poster bed, and off to the side was an absolutely huge walk-in shower. I think a dozen people could have fit inside the shower.

Jiao looked at the bed and smiled at me.

"I can't wait to try out that bed and shower," she said with an alluring look.

I swatted her beautiful butt and said, "Work first, play later."

She looked very disappointed.

Behind the fourth door was a computer room that was easily three times the size of the one in the underground complex.

Along the walls were even more monitors, and the computers themselves were obviously much newer than the ones in the underground complex.

Jiao walked over and tried to turn the system on, but when she did, the screen prompted her for a password.

"What is the password, Jack?" she asked.

I had to admit I had no idea what password Rutledge would have used.

Jiao tried every possible combination of Rutledge's name, including just "Rutledge," then "Theodore Rutledge," then "Theodore Roosevelt Rutledge," but nothing worked.

"Doesn't your ESP help with this," I asked, but Jiao had to admit that she could sense nothing.

Then I had a sudden idea.

"In Rutledge's last letter, he says 'to thine own self be true,'" I explained to Jiao. "Maybe we should try my name?"

Jiao started to type in J-a-c-k, but I stopped her.

"No, he said 'to thine OWN self be true,' so try my real name, Jonathan Wilson," I advised her.

Ten seconds later, "Access Granted," popped up on the screen, and Jiao then was able to activate all the cameras in the valley.

Almost immediately we found a Word document on the computer with my name on it, but decided to wait until later before reading it since we knew it would not be long before our visitors arrived.

We both noticed that there were a number of extra monitors, and some views we had never seen before. Most of those were in the cabin, and the underground complex, but some were from atop the mountains around the valley, and even looking outward towards others mountains.

It was only about 10 minutes later we heard, thanks to the outside microphones, the unmistakable "thump-thump" of incoming helicopters, and we watched as several Cobra gunships entered the valley, immediately followed by four transport helicopters.

One at a time, the transport helicopters landed, discharging 40 to 50 men each.

In less than two minutes, nearly 200 men were swarming all over the valley, while the gunships continued to patrol around overhead.

Over the next hour or so, we watched as the members of Delta Force found all the bodies and shoved them into body bags.

The colonel apparently in charge had started using the cabin as his headquarters, while they also began searching for me and Jiao. Or more precisely, for Jiao and me.

Jiao and I both listened in, thanks to the microphones in the hidden cameras, as the colonel carefully instructed his men that finding Jiao was their most important priority.

When one of his men asked "What about the guy?" the colonel was quick to answer.

"We don't care about the guy, as long as he doesn't interfere with our mission," he said. "If he stays out of the way, he doesn't get hurt, but if he tries to interfere . . . well, we don't care about him."

When one of colonel's men mentioned that out of the 15 dead men, 12 were head shots, the Colonel again repeated that as long as I stayed out of their way, he "didn't care what happened to me."

Jiao held my hand and said almost with despair: "I thought I left that kind of thinking behind me, in China."

All I could do was try to comfort her as best I could, and try to reassure her that the colonel was probably acting on his own authority, because this was not the way we normally handled things in the United States.

But to myself, I couldn't help but wonder if that was actually true.

Two hours later, a very frustrated colonel had to admit that there was no trace of either Jiao or me. They had actually brought in dogs to try to find us, but the pepper I had spread in the cabin and underground complex pretty much destroyed their sense of smell. I knew it would be hours before they would be able to try to sniff us out.

Then one of the colonel's men mentioned the chicken house didn't make sense to him. This guy had been born on a farm, raising chickens, and its remote location seemed too contrived.

The colonel ordered his men to start disassembling the chicken house, and in a couple of hours they had most of the chicken house torn apart.

Luckily for us, they dumped most of the parts in front of the slab leading to the cave entrance.

When they still couldn't find anything, they ordered bulldozers brought in and scraped the top two or three feet of chicken manure and dirt off the ground. Again, they piled most of that up against the slab, further hiding the entrance to the mountain.

Having reached another dead end, the colonel ordered the entire valley and mountains searched again, but to no avail.

Forty-eight hours after they landed, a very angry colonel and his Delta Force men finally had to admit defeat and leave.

I guess you are probably wondering just what Jiao and I were doing while all this was going on.

Well, after the colonel had ordered that dogs be brought in, Jiao was sitting in front of the monitors. I stood behind her and reaching around, started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Jack, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing, Jiao, nothing at all," I answered, "Just keep watching the monitors."

After unbuttoning her blouse, I then reached inside the blouse and started playing with her breasts and nipples.

"Jack, now what are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing, Jiao, nothing at all," I again answered, "Just keep watching the monitors."

By now her nipples were very hard, and Jiao was having trouble breathing.

She was wearing a pair of shorts, so I unbuttoned the top button of the shorts and unzipped the front.

"Jack, oh Jack, NOW what are you doing?" she asked, but when I slid my hand in under her panties she stopped asking anything at all.

Instead she turned around and pulled my head down to hers where she gave me a kiss and soon our tongues were deep in each other's mouths.

"Want to try out the bed now?" I asked.

"If you don't take me there now, soon you will have to screw me right here," she threatened, but with a smile.

By the time we reached the bedroom we were both naked, and I soon had Jiao on the bed with my head between her legs and my tongue deep inside her.

Jiao had several screaming orgasms before I finally entered her. At first I was on top, but quickly Jiao had us change positions until she was on top and controlling our lovemaking.

One thing I have to say about that. While Jiao is on top, she moves far more aggressively than I would dare to do with her underneath me.

When she is on top, Jiao becomes like a possessed person, literally slamming me inside her with force and abandon.

By the time I finally exploded inside her, she had two more orgasms. Screaming orgasms!

God, I love her so much!

That is how we spent the next 48 hours, until the Special Forces Colonel and his men left. We would watch the monitors for a while, then I would cook something for us, we would watch some more, then we would make love.

The Colonel had tried to outsmart us, by placing hidden cameras and motion sensors of his own in different places around the valley. Of course with OUR hidden cameras, I knew where every one of those was located, so when I finally left "Fortress Appalachia" I knew where to walk and where not to.

A week later, I used my sniper rifle to take out every one of those cameras and motion sensors, and a few hours later the helicopters were back, carrying the Colonel with an even larger force of men.

This time they spent four days searching for us, again to no avail.

When they left this time, the Colonel did not bother to place any cameras or motion sensors around, but I guess finally admitted defeat.

While we had been waiting for the Delta Force members to leave, I finally read Rutledge's final letter to me.

Rutledge had asked me to contact his attorney in Texas and make sure he knew that Rutledge was dead. Rutledge had also asked the funeral home to contact that attorney, but wanted to make sure that the message had gotten through.

Why would someone in North Carolina have an attorney in Texas? As Rutledge explained, his best friend from World War II, a man who had saved his life, was from Texas and after the war returned to his native state to practice law. When that friend eventually died a few years earlier, Rutledge continued to use that man's son as his personal attorney.

I sent an e-mail to the attorney, and quickly heard back from him. The funeral home had contacted him, but the attorney asked me to come to Texas when I could since Rutledge had left some other papers with him that I might need.

I agreed, but advised the attorney it might be several months before I could make the trip to Texas.



East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 05



This is the conclusion of Part One, and I hope you have enjoyed reading. Again, please start with chapter one before reading this. Part 2 has been written and is in the process of being edited and will be posted soon. I again want to thank BeachBaby179 for her numerous suggestions and clarifications in making this story much better. It is very easy, when you are writing, to get so involved you let things slip. BeachBaby, you not only caught all those but forced me to look through the story with a fresh set of eyes. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

East Meets West, Part 1, Chapter 5

I let another two weeks pass before I finally sent an email to Colonel James, letting him know that Jiao and I were okay. He told us to sit tight until we heard from him again.

During those two weeks Jiao began teaching me the Chinese marital art, wushu.

This is a little embarrassing . . . okay, VERY embarrassing.

Before I was shot, I was in pretty good shape. Actually that is not correct, I was in GREAT shape. At least three times a day, I would do at least 300 pushups. I would also usually do 400 or 500 sit-ups on a slanted board. I would do 100 pull-ups two or three times a day. I would run anywhere from three to nine miles – most of that over steep mountain roads. I was actually in better shape physically than when I graduated from Marine Corps boot camp.

Within a week after getting shot, I started exercising again even though Jiao kept telling me it was too soon. By the time the second group of MSS agents attacked the meadow I was back to doing 100 pushups and all the rest, but now would just run to the chained gate and back.

By any standard you wanted to use I was in GREAT shape again.

The Marine Corps taught me different forms of hand-to-hand combat. While in Afghanistan I was taught other techniques of hand-to-hand combat. Perhaps I didn't have a "black belt" but I knew I could hold my own against nearly anyone.

I was tough and I knew it.

When Jiao finally agreed to begin teaching me, I knew my biggest problem would probably be not hurting her. I mean she is barely five feet tall and weighs a whopping 90 pounds soaking wet. I was over eight inches taller and outweighed her by almost 100 pounds.

At first I kept making fun of Jiao because she was going so slowly.

I even made the mistake of saying one day, "Well, if some slow, little old grandmother ever attacks me I'll know what to do."

Big mistake!

She flushed, grimaced and then starting grinning at me.

"Well, come on Jack, attack me!" she said.

I began moving at about quarter speed.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked as she easily sidestepped my "attack."

I went about half speed.

"I thought Marines were supposed to be tough," she taunted me.

I kept speeding up and she kept taunting me as she easily sidestepped each "assault."

I finally went at her full-speed, knowing I could "pull" my punch at the last second.

The next thing I know I was flat on my back.

I rolled over and this time I really meant it. I was tired of being taunted, tired of being ridiculed and really mad about her flipping me on my back so easily.

The second time I landed on my back about 15 feet away!

Jiao actually had to help me up, then had to help me hobble over to the bed so I could lay down. It was two days before I could walk normally.

Much more humble now, I continued to take lessons from Jiao until I am now the equivalent of a third degree black belt. But as she often reminds me, Jiao can still whip my ass any time she wants.

After my e-mail to Colonel James, another week went by before the microphones again picked up the sound of a helicopter, but this time there was only one, and three men stepped out when the chopper landed.

One was an Army Major General, another was a Marine Corps Lieutenant General who looked somewhat familiar, and a third was a major, whom I recognized immediately. The major was my old company commander from Iraq. I quickly did a search on the Internet, and realized the Marine Corps General was the Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps.

All three men walked into the old cabin, where the Army general started talking.

"Jack, I have to assume you are probably listening to us, and are probably watching us.

"My name is Major General Brandon Wells, but you know me as Colonel James.

"Ghost, there is no longer any danger but we need to talk," he said.

I immediately asked Jiao if she was sensing anything, and she said she was sure he was telling the truth.

"I can't sense any danger from any of the three," she said.

Jiao and I had spent many hours discussing what to do if anyone came back, and both realized that we could not stay where we were forever. Sooner or later, the food would run out, or one of us could become sick.

It took about 30 minutes for me to exit the mountain stronghold, and approach the cabin.

"I'm coming in gentlemen, and I am armed," I warned them, before entering the cabin.

I will try to make a long story short.

There were actually two traitors. The one Jiao had killed, and his immediate supervisor, who was an assistant director of NSA. They had only caught the second traitor two weeks ago.

The State Department had also spent many long hours of discussion with the Chinese ambassador to the United States, and the Chinese had called off any remaining search for, or interest in Jiao.

Part of their agreement was that the U.S. had agreed to share Jiao's research with the Chinese government.

The other part was the implied threat that if anything – anything – happened to Jiao, the man responsible for taking out two separate groups of MSS agents would be sent to China where he would be given free rein to engage in his own one-man war against high ranking governmental officials.

The old carrot and the stick. Jiao's research was the carrot, and I was the stick.

During the weeks that Jiao and I were in the mountain stronghold, she had told me all about the research she, and her late husband, had been engaged in. After his death, she had continued his groundbreaking advances in nuclear power plant design.

As a comparison, Jiao told me that the only two new nuclear reactors that had been approved in the U.S. since Three Mile Island were at Plant Vogtle in Georgia. Those two reactors, when they were built, would generate 2,200 megawatts of power – enough to provide electricity for about one million homes. The cost to build the two reactors, without even factoring in any cost overruns, was $14 billion.

Jiao and her husband were working on what has been called "pocket reactors." Much smaller, much less nuclear waste generated, much easier to operate, and much, much cheaper.

While the pocket reactors would "only" generate about 400 megawatts of electricity, as compared to the 1,100 megawatts each of the reactors in Georgia would generate, they would only cost about $1 billion.

"For that same $14 billion dollars, generating 2,220 megawatts of power, you could build 14 pocket reactors, each providing 400 megawatts, or a total of 5,600 megawatts of power," she said. "And from what I have been reading about some of the construction techniques that will be used in Georgia, I think it would be easy to tweak that up to 500 megawatts each, or 7,000 total megawatts of power."

"In China, over 70 percent of all electricity is generated from coal, which pollutes the air," she said, "while 20 percent is from crude oil that mostly has to be imported. Natural gas produces three percent of the electricity, while hydro-electric, nuclear and wind-power account for a little over seven percent.

"That is vastly different in the U.S., where coal produces 42 percent of electricity, natural gas is 25 percent, and nuclear is 20 percent. All other sources only produce 13 percent of your power.

"China wants to build 100 pocket reactors as soon as my research is done, which will generate 40,000 megawatts of power. That will have a tremendous impact in reducing coal emissions, as well as the amount of crude oil being imported."

Jiao said that after the initial 100 reactors are built, China planned on adding 20 to 30 new reactors each year, until nuclear power provided well over 50 percent of their electrical use.

No wonder the Chinese had been interested in either getting her back, or eliminating her!

Jiao had already told me that before she left China, she had already destroyed or hidden all the research notes she and her deceased husband had spent years producing.

"They were desperate to get either me or our research," she added.

Now with the promise that all of Jiao's information would be provided to them, the Chinese had called off the hunt.

General Wells suggested we stay where we were for another week or two, to make absolutely sure there were no more attacks, but then we should be safe to come out of hiding.

The two Marine officers were simply along to provide some familiar faces, and in a little while they all said they would be leaving.

Before they left, General Wells asked if there was anything we needed.

I was still wearing the earphones and microphone Jiao had provided, so I took those off and asked the General if we could take a short walk outside.

When I told him what I wanted, he grinned and said he would see what he could do.

After they left, and I returned to the mountain shelter, Jiao was very curious about what I had discussed with General Wells. Since I knew where every camera was, it was easy to avoid those, plus the microphones built in.

I told the General that I planned on asking Jiao if she would marry me, and if she said yes could he cut through all the red tape and send someone out to perform the ceremony?

I wasn't really sure just what I could offer someone as smart as Jiao, but I knew that I absolutely loved her, and she had told me enough times that she loved me as well, and . . . I simply could not imagine any future that did not include the two of us together.

"Jiao," I told her, "you are the smartest woman I have ever met . . . you are probably one of the smartest women on earth, based on your I.Q.

"All I know is guns. Just guns and how to use them and I don't know what that makes me . . ."

Jiao interrupted me and said, there was an old Chinese proverb, which itself is based on an even older Buddhist proverb that goes, "God gives every man the keys to the gates of Heaven. But the same key also unlocks the gates of Hell.

"How you live your life determines which one of those gates that set of keys unlocks," she said.

"Someone else said much the same thing, although using entirely different words," she continued.

"Alan Ladd, from the movie Shane," she said, then Jiao did another incredible impersonation: "A gun is a tool, Jack; no better or no worse than any other tool: an ax, a shovel or anything. A gun is as good or as bad as the man using it. Remember that."

Jiao then resumed her normal voice.

"Jack, you are the best man I have ever known. I mean that – the best man I have ever known. I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you standing on the porch at the safe house. I was SO mad at you for not taking your shot, but even as I was hitting you, I think I was already falling in love with you.

"But Jack, do you know when I knew for sure that I was in love with you?"

I, of course, answered that I didn't.

"I knew that I loved you when you stopped the car, after I told you about the sterilization . . . you stopped the car, came around to my side and just held me in your arms. You didn't say anything, you just held me.

"I fell asleep in your arms Jack. I don't know if it was ESP, or woman's intuition, or just your heart talking to my heart.

"I knew right then that I was safe. That you would always take care of me. That we . . . you and I . . . would always be together – ALWAYS!"

Then an impish grin covered her face, and I could see a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"You know Jack, my ESP is really working overtime right now.

"I could make it easy for you and simply say 'Yes,' but I want to see it like in the movies!

"I want to see you get down on your knee and ask . . ."

So, I dropped down to one knee, took her hands in mine and said the words:

"Jiao, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Jiao, my love, will you marry me?"

And Jiao was in my arms kissing me like crazy, and saying over and over: "Yes, Yes, YES!"

After a dozen "Yeses," and about two dozen kisses, Jiao again looked at me with an impish grin.

"What? Now why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.

"I believe this is the part where you are supposed to give me a ring?" she inquired.

OH, SHIT!

"Oh My God, Jiao," I exclaimed, "Oh My God! I never even thought about a ring . . . Oh, Shit . . . sorry, didn't mean to say that. Oh My God, why didn't I think about that? Oh, Shit . . . sorry, didn't mean to say it again."

Jiao is laughing her ass off at me.

"Jack, Jack, it's okay," she insisted. "I knew you didn't have a ring, that's why I brought it up," she said, continuing to laugh at my reaction.

"How long did the General say it would be before we could leave?" she asked.

I told her probably about two weeks.

"Okay," she said, "I'll give you a two-week, what do you call it . . . grace period? (I nodded yes) I'll give you a two-week grace period – PROVIDED you make love to me at least five or six times a day."

You know, there are times when you just have to do your duty!!!

Two weeks later, General Wells flew back in, only this time he brought an Army chaplain with him, and the General was the witness when Jiao and I were wed.

A month after that, Jiao and I were driving through the Australian Outback to get her daughter. General Wells and the Department of Defense also cut through all the red tape, and Jiao was now officially a United States citizen, with a U.S. Passport.

The word, Meili, in Mandarin Chinese means beautiful and graceful, and that is exactly what Jiao's daughter was – beautiful and graceful.

I was amazed at how tiny she was!

I hadn't even brought the car to a full stop when Jiao jumped out and ran to meet Meili, who was running to her Mom.

Mom and daughter were both crying. Hell, I was crying. Just to see the love between these two was amazing! I knew how much Jiao had missed her daughter, and it was obvious that Meili had missed her Mom just as much.

I just waited in the car to allow mother and daughter to reconnect, but finally Jiao stood up and waved me over.

When I walked up, Meili hid behind her mother.

I knew Meili was 12, but she was so tiny she looked more like an eight-year-old! All I could see of her was one eye, peeking around behind her mother, and her nearly shoulder-length jet black hair. Her eyes were green – well at least the one I could see was green.

Jiao had already told her daughter that we were married, and that I was now her step-dad, but Jiao had also told me how shy Meili could be around strangers.

When I had asked Jiao if Meili spoke English, she laughed.

"You Americans always think other people are like you, and only speak one language," she gently admonished me. "Meili speaks three different dialects of Chinese, also French, Russian and German – all fluently. She also speaks English. But England English, not American English."

Jiao also told me that Meili had both a higher I.Q. than she did, and also was exhibiting greater ESP powers at an earlier age than Jiao had. She also told me that she had never told anyone – anyone – about Meili's ESP.

I knew that Jiao was telling me – in essence – that I would never be able to fool Meili. She was both smart enough, and perceptive enough, to spot any insincerity immediately.

I would have to speak from my heart.

I walked over to the girls, and dropped down to my knees. I then reached over and grabbed Jiao's hand in mine.

"Hello, Meili," I began, "My name is Jack. I know that your Mom has already told that we are now married, but I want to tell YOU how much I love your Mom and always will. And I hope that you will understand that I already love you, just from what your Mom has told me about you.

"And I hope that one day you will love me as well."

There was no reaction. Meili continued to hide behind her Mom.

I had a sudden inspiration.

"Meili, do you like magic?" I asked.

For the first time since I had walked over to her, Meili displayed a little emotion. Her one eye I could see lifted slightly, and she looked up at her Mom and said something in Chinese.

Jiao laughed, and said that Meili had told me "I am a scientist, I don't believe in magic."

One of the snipers I had trained with once showed me a trick he used to pass the time, and keep his fingers limber – especially important in cold weather when limber fingers could mean the difference between softly squeezing a shot off, and jerking slightly.

I pulled a silver dollar out of my pocket. I had actually spray painted it flat black, so sunlight would not reflect off it.

I don't know if you have ever seen the trick where magicians "walk" a coin across their knuckles, but that is what I started to do.

"Okay, my pretty scientist, let's see if you can figure this out," I said.

For the first time, Meili eased out from behind her Mom.

I spent several minutes walking the coin across the back of my fingers, using only the knuckles.

Meili was studying my hands very intently.

Suddenly, the coin disappeared.

Meili gasped.

"What happened?" I asked. "Meili, did you take my coin?"

Meili giggled, and spoke to me for the first time.

"No," she said, "What did you do with it?" It was amazing to hear a prefect British accent coming from this tiny little Chinese girl.

"Me?" I exclaimed, "Me? I didn't do anything with it."

I opened both hands, and turned them over for Meili to see that I was not holding the coin.

"I think you must have it," I told her.

By now Meili was laughing, and kept insisting she did not have my coin.

"Wait," I said, pretending to examine first one side of her head, then the other.

"I think it see it," and then reached over and "pulled" the coin out of her ear!

"How did you do that?" I asked her, and by now Meili was really laughing out loud.

The next thing I knew, Meili's skinny arms were around my neck and she was giving me a big old hug. Then she kissed my cheek.

"Will you teach me how to do that?" she very politely asked.

I assured her that I would, then I looked up at Jiao. The tears were running down her face at seeing the two people she most loved in the world learning to love each other.

I have to tell you that as soon as Meili put her arms around my neck and kissed me, I was completely gone.

I knew that while she might not be my blood daughter, in every other way that counted, she was and would always be MY daughter.

We spent several weeks in Australia before flying back to the United States. We had a two-week stop in Hawaii, enjoying that island paradise, before flying on to Texas where we met with Rutledge's attorney Huntsell Boone.

While in Texas, I received perhaps the biggest shock of my life.

Huntsell, or "Hunt" as he preferred to be called had asked me to stop by so I could sign some paperwork relating to the death of Rutledge. "Just a simple formality," he had said.

That "simple formality," was actually a guise to get me to stop in Texas for the formal reading of Rutledge's will. As it turns out, Rutledge named me his heir, leaving me the bulk of his fortune, including his mansion in North Carolina.

A couple of his nephews and a niece each received around $1 million, but I received something like $30 million, plus all his extensive land holdings, including the "English castle."




East Meets West Pt. 01 Ch. 05



While in Texas Hunt mentioned that I reminded him of someone, a good friend of his who was also both a former Marine, and originally from North Carolina. Hunt invited Jiao, Meili and me to an authentic Texas-style barbecue at the sprawling Texas ranch owned by his friend's father. Since the father-in-law raised horses, and Jiao and Meili both loved horses, I simply couldn't say no.

After we arrived at the ranch, Hunt found Dennis and Susan Osborne and introduced us, then Dennis introduced me to his father, John Williams. John, also a former Marine, was one of the biggest men I have ever met at about 6'6" and well over 300 pounds.

As it turned out, Rutledge also owned several thousand acres in Texas, and that land was now also mine as well. Rutledge's Texas land bordered the property owned by Williams, and "Big John" had been leasing that land for the past 20-some years. I assured John, Dennis and Susan that they could continue to lease that property for as long as they wanted.

Susan was one of the most extraordinarily beautiful woman I have ever met, and when Dennis told me she had been the runner-up in the Miss Texas beauty pageant I didn't doubt it at all.

Dennis and I became friends very quickly, and shared stories about growing up in North Carolina, and our time spent in the Marine Corps.

It was extraordinary to see Susan and Jiao together. They were so totally different, and yet each was incredibly beautiful. Susan was as tall as I was, while Jiao was barely five feet tall. More than once Dennis and I both acknowledged we were blessed to have found such amazing women.

After spending several days in Texas, we finally returned to North Carolina. We also bought several horses from Big John; Dennis and Susan arranged to drive the horses to North Carolina in a trailer.

Once back "home" we divided our time between "The Meadow" as we were all calling it, and the English-style mansion. We also built horse barns at both locations for the horses.

Several months later Dennis and Susan delivered the horses personally, since Dennis also wanted to spend some time with his parents, who still owned a farm in North Carolina. Dennis and Susan also spent two weeks with us where we showed them both the underground bunker under the cabin, and "Fortress Appalachia." 

Meili absolutely loved "Fortress Appalachia" and could spend hours exploring the miles of caverns honeycombing the entire mountain. By now, Jiao had replaced the bulky headphones with a very small receiver that fit inside your ear. Another very small microphone was attached to your shirt, and Jiao had made repeater stations she placed throughout the miles of caves so there was no place outside or inside the mountain you would be out of range.

We literally could have instant contact with each other, no matter where we were.

If left up to Meili, I have no doubt we would have spent ALL our time at The Meadow and the two hidden retreats located there. For Jiao and I, though, Rutledge's mansion quickly became our favorite place on earth.

Rutledge had also built a heated, Olympic size swimming pool behind the mansion and the girls and I would spend hours swimming each day.

Jiao spent months writing a proposal, then with the help of General Wells and the U.S. Government, she received a patent for the world's first "pocket reactor."

Jiao went to work for the Oak Ridge National Laboratory when she became director of the program to build the pocket reactors.

As promised, the U.S. shared the results with the Chinese, and it wasn't long before they had their initial 100 reactors, and the U.S. added 50 more.

Jiao charged the incredibly modest fee of one-fourth of one percent of the construction cost of each reactor in exchange for using her patent.

Of course when you consider that the average construction cost of each pocket reactor is approximately $1 billion – well that adds up in a hurry. For each pocket reactor built, Jiao received $2,500,000, or so far, a total of $375,000,000 for the 150 built by the Chinese and U.S.

Jiao won the Nobel Prize (and the accompanying several million dollars that went with it) for her contributions to nuclear physics and helping solve the world's energy crisis.

Jiao also became Dr. Jiao Collins after earning her PhD in nuclear physics.

As mentioned, Meili enrolled at M.I.T., at age 16, and completed her degree by age 19.

In the ensuing seven years I went back to school, and soon had my bachelor's degree in military history, then earned a master's degree as well.

I am now teaching at the same college when Theodore Roosevelt Rutledge began teaching shortly before World War II – for the princely sum of one dollar a year. I am also working on my Ph.D. as well.

Jiao still works at Oak Ridge, and Meili would have gone to work with her Mom.

Except for one damn drunk driver.

For the first time since I had known both Jiao and Meili, their ESP had failed them, not offered any clue as to what was going to happen.

Jiao was in Washington, D.C., where she was testifying before Congress about providing funds to build more pocket reactors.

Normally, I would have gone with her, but she insisted I stay behind with Meili in case her daughter needed anything.

I had already called Jiao in Washington, and she was on her way back.

Now, all I could do was wait.

As a sniper, I was used to waiting. But that was waiting to "eliminate" a target.

Now, as a father, I found out there is an entirely different kind of waiting. Now I was waiting to find out if my daughter was going to live.

Finally, the doctors came to see me.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Professor," one of the doctors began, "she's out of surgery, but not out of danger. In fact, the next two or three hours are going to be critical.

"If she can get through the next few hours . . . well then at least she has a chance."

When I asked what sort of chance, I was shocked to hear what they had to say.

"Right now, I would only give her about a 20 percent chance to survive the new few hours. If, and it is a big if, if she can make it that long, then I would rate her long term chances as less than 50 percent.

"I'm sorry Professor, but you have to prepare yourself for the worst."

Once they moved her to the Critical Care Unit, I finally got to see Meili.

Even though the doctors had tried to prepare me, I was still shocked to see her.

I could almost swear she was whiter than the sheets she was laying on, and Meili looked so pathetically tiny in the big hospital bed.

At first you couldn't even tell if she was breathing or not. Only the machines she was hooked up to actually showed she was still alive.

One machine was recording her heartbeat, another her respiration, and a third her blood pressure.

"Talk to her, read to her, just let her know that you are there with her," they advised.

I walked over and pulled a chair up beside the bed, then held Meili's tiny hand in mine. I began to speak softly to her, and even without any medical training, I could hear the machine recording her heartbeat begin to increase slightly.

"She knows you are here," said one of the nurses, "keep going."

For about 15 minutes Meili seemed to be improving, but gradually her heartbeat slowed back down to the same level it was when I came in.

"Just keep talking," advised the nurse, who said she would leave the two of us alone. "I'll come back every 15 minutes to check her."

I talked and talked for two hours.

I told her all about Jonathan Wilson, and Jack Collins and how I had met her mother. Because of the ESP Meili already knew most of the details. Whenever the nurse came back in, I would change the subject, until the nurse left, then pick up where I left off.

For two hours there was no change. Well, that is not quite true. Very, very slowly her heartbeat slowed, and her blood pressure dropped.

I knew we were losing her. Even the nurse shook her head at the slow, but steady decline, and had tears in her eyes.

After about two hours, the nurse offered to get me some coffee or a soft drink, and as I reached into my pocket for some money, I felt my old silver dollar in my pocket.

I pulled it out, then began walking it across my knuckles.

I told the nurse the first time I met Meili, I did a little magic trick. I could almost swear I could hear the heart monitor speed up slightly when I said the word "magic."

I asked Meili if she remembered the first time we met, and what I said, then started repeating the conversation.

"Do you remember Meili? I knelt down beside you . . . you were hiding behind your mother, and all I could see was one beautiful jade green eye.

"Hello, Meili," I repeated that long ago conversation, "My name is Jack. I know that your Mom has already told that we are now married, but I want to tell YOU how much I love your Mom and always will."

Even my untrained ear could hear her heart beat monitor going slightly faster.

"Keep going," urged the nurse.

"And then Meili, I told you that I hope you will understand that I already love you, just from what your Mom has told me about you.

"And I hoped that you would love me as well."

The nurse again whispered, "Whatever you are doing, keep doing it. I am going to get the doctor."

"'Meili, do you like magic?' I asked you so long ago."

When I said "magic" again, there was NO doubt her heartbeat was getting stronger. I knew Meili couldn't see me, since her eyes were closed, but I had learned a long, long time ago that both mother and daughter could "see" in more ways than one.

I had once said how much I hated the word "assume," but now I could only hope and pray that I was correct in assuming that somehow Meili knew I was there, and that in some way I would never understand she could hear me, could feel my presence and could "see" me and what I was doing.

"You laughed that day, all those years ago, and told your Mom that you were a scientist, that you didn't believe in magic.

"Then I said, Okay, my pretty scientist, let's see if you can figure this out."

I heard a noise behind me, and glanced backward. There were several doctors and nurses in the room. The nurse motioned for me to keep going.

I told Meili that I then began walking the coin across my knuckles, and I was saying the words I was doing that as well.

"You watched the coin, and then it happened . . .

"Suddenly the coin was gone." In real life, I flicked my hand, and the coin was gone as well.

"Do you remember my asking you, 'what happened??' And then I asked you, 'Meili, did you take my coin?'"

I could almost swear I could see the beginning of a smile in the corners of her mouth.

"You denied taking my coin, and then you asked me, 'What did you do with it?' Do you remember my little angel?

"I, of course, told you that I didn't have anything to do with it.

"I then showed you both of my hands, front and back."

Even though her eyes were still closed, I opened both hands, and turned them over in front of Meili's face. Somehow, whether it was through ESP or whatever, I knew Meili could "see" my hands and the coin.

"Then I told you that 'I think you must have it.'"

By now there was no doubt that there was a smile on her face, and even though Meili's eyes were still closed, she turned her head slightly towards me.

"I examined one side of your head, and then the other, and told you, 'I think it see it,' and then reached over and took the coin out of your ear where you had been hiding it.

"Then I asked you, 'How did you do that?'"

Meili's eyes began fluttering, and I heard a tiny little voice whisper the single most beautiful word in the English language.

"Daddy?"

I suppose if this were a Hollywood feel-good movie I would next write about how Meili's eyes continued to flutter for a minute or two, before opening and seeing me. Then I would write about how her no longer skinny, but still slender arms would raise up, still with tubes sticking everywhere, and she would give me a hug and an innocent kiss on the lips and tell me how much she loves me.

Then she would ask for her Mom, and Jiao would step out of the group of people behind us, where she had been standing watching what was going on. We would all hug and kiss, and in a few days Meili would leave the hospital and resume her normal life.

But the real world isn't Hollywood, and the real world doesn't have to be neatly wrapped up in 90 minutes or so. Her tiny body had already endured so much today, and now she needed one thing more than any other. And that was rest. So, instead I will say what actually happened, which is Meili then slipped back into a coma, but not as deep as before.

One of the doctors, and one of the nurses then started checking her vital stats, before they asked me to step outside where we could talk.

"Look Professor, I have to admit that I lied to you before when I said we only gave her a 20 percent chance of living even a few hours," the doctor said. "Actually, we gave her a lot less than a 10 percent chance – in fact, we gave her virtually no chance at all.

"What I just saw was a miracle. But Meili isn't out of the woods yet. She is still incredibly weak, but I also have to say that her vital signs are really good right now.

"Again, to be honest, normally I would still only give her a 20 or 30 percent chance of making it for the next 24 hours, but if you can continue to do that magic trick – The Miracle of the Silver Dollar – every time she starts to slip away . . . well then it is out of our hands, and in the hands of God."

The doctors and nurses then left, but I continued to sit in my chair beside her bed, just holding her hand in mine and continuing to talk about any and everything under the sun.

One of the nurses would check in every 10 or 15 minutes, and offered to watch Meili while I got something to eat, but I refused. I finally did let her bring me some tea.

I continued to talk to Meili for hours, telling her everything about how I nearly killed her mother, about our hiding in the underground shelter, falling in love, about the second squad of MSS men and my disposing of them. I told her EVERYTHING. When I ran out of things to talk about, I began reviewing – out loud – my upcoming military history lessons for my classes.

I am not sure how much time passed, but I feel asleep in my chair, with my head on the bed, just inches away from Meili. I was still holding her hand.

Then a hand softly stroked my face, and I heard a voice I love so much saying, "Thank you Jack. Thank you for saving my daughter . . . our daughter's life."

I woke up and Jiao was standing beside me, crying.

Jiao had actually arrived at the hospital some 30 minutes earlier, but the nurse had refused to let her into the Critical Care Unit until after she had spoken to the doctor – and heard about what had happened.

Jiao was now in my lap, hugging me and kissing me, and in between her tears trying to tell me what the doctor told her.

"The whole hospital is calling it The Miracle of the Silver Dollar," she said, then started crying so hard she couldn't talk.

Words really weren't necessary, so I just continued to hold Jiao in my lap, while holding Meili's hand.

After a while, Jiao finally made me get up and leave to go get something to eat, and take a walk outside.

When I returned to the room, Jiao was holding her daughter's hand and talking to her, telling her how much we both loved her.

We both stayed with her that night, taking turns sleeping in the chair.

I woke up about four in the morning hearing warning alarms going off on the blood pressure machine, but now Jiao was talking to her daughter, and soon the blood pressure came back up.

Neither of us slept any more that night.

Late that afternoon, Meili's blood pressure dropped again and her breathing became labored, but once more I pulled out my silver dollar and repeated all those words from eight years ago, and from the previous day.

Again, Jiao and I could see a slight smile on Meili's face when I "pulled" the dollar out of her ear, and her eyes fluttered.

And again I could hear a tiny little voice whisper, "Daddy?"

Meili immediately fell back asleep, and there were no more incidents for the next six days.

The doctors told us that Meili was now out of danger, and moved her into a regular hospital room.

The next day, Meili opened her eyes for the very first time, and this time it wasn't a tiny little voice whispering, "Daddy?" but almost her normal voice saying, "Daddy!" as she saw me sitting on the chair beside her bed.

I stood up, and with tears streaming down my face, leaned over my daughter and took her in my arms.

"Daddy, I love you!" was all she said, then she closed her eyes as she fell back into sleep, but that was enough – more than enough.

Three weeks later, we all left the hospital together. Meili rode in a wheel chair to the main entrance, and since she couldn't walk yet, I picked her up and carried her to my SUV.

Meili has never called me anything but "Daddy" since then.

EPILOGUE

Due to the extent of her injuries, it was several months before Meili could even begin walking again (following several surgeries), and over a year before the doctors could say she was actually back to normal. Actually, she still has a slight limp that most people can only see when she is really tired, but both Jiao and I can see it.

Even while still recovering, Meili announced that she planned to return to MIT and earn several other degrees, since the focus of her life had now changed as a result of her near death. Four years later, at the age of 23, Meili added degrees in biology and genetics to go along with her degree in nuclear physics.

By this point, Jiao had earned more money through her patents on the pocket reactors than she could spend in a dozen lifetimes. Add to that the fact, that because of the ESP that mother and daughter shared, they almost always knew what investments to make increasing the family fortune even more, and we actually struggled trying to spend money faster than we were making it.

Jiao and I had set up a foundation where we donated tens of millions of dollars a year to different charitable causes, organizations and even individuals. All anonymously of course.

So when Meili asked us for some money to set up the most advanced bio-genetics research lab on earth, we gave her $50 million to start with, and doubled that later. It was the most sophisticated, high-tech biology and genetics lab in the United States, and probably the world, employing dozens of the brightest minds on earth.

All of that, plus what happened after, is another story for another day.

All I can say right now, is that because of Meili's research, and with Meili's involvement, Jiao and I had several children together, despite the fact that Jiao had undergone forced sterilization in China.

That story will come later.