Storiesonline.net ------- Mayhem II - Sea Cruise by colt45 Copyright© 2009 by colt45 ------- Description: The continuation of the Mayhem saga with good guys, bad guys, sex, love, violence and hopefully just a touch of humor. Codes: MF FF cons rom het ScFi humor harem ------- ------- Cast This is only a partial list of the characters introduced in Mayhem. Characters we will be meeting in Mayhem II for the first time are not listed since this has the potential for being a bit of a spoiler and as many readers have noticed I'm not a real big fan of spoilers. However it has been justly pointed out that a number of my characters can have numerous names or nicknames depending on who and where they are at any one particular time. This being the case it was recommended I provided a short Who's-Who to help keep them straight and I found that to be reasonable. So, in no particular order of importance here are some of the characters that make up the wonderful world of Mayhem: Captain Daniel Mayhem: AKA: LaMuerte (The Death) usually used by the people he had been fighting against; Captain, Cap'n or Cap by his team members, "Boss" by Mike. Muchacos Peridos (Lost Boys): The unofficial designation of Mayhem's SpecFor team during the war. They began using the names of several of Peter Pan's Lost Boys as their net handles during the war and the name stuck. Even after almost a decade since the end of the war the mere mention of the words Muchacos Peridos in certain areas of SA still conjures up various divergent reactions: gratitude, fear, love, loathing, worship, wet panties and pissed pants. Depends mostly on which side of the war you were on. The one thing that has never changed has been their steadfast loyalty to the man they believed was the only reason they survived the war, Captain Daniel Mayhem. Master Sergeant William Marker: "Top" or "Slightly". Team's senior NCO and intelligence officer. Sergeant Michel Darlington: "Mike" or "Nibs." Sniper extraordinary and master at close-in fighting. Sergeant Nathan Willis: "Weird" or "Tootles." Slightly demented genius noted for his ability with electronics and intelligent machines. Second only to Mike in hand to hand combat. Sergeant Brian McNaught: "Bri" or "Cubby." General all around fighter; served as the team's medic. Sergeant Samuel Koble: "Sam" or "Marmaduke." One of the Kolbe twins; likes heavy weapons and making things go crunch. Also known for having a crush on the USO singer Natalie Bernstead for almost two decades. Sergeant Stanley Koble: "Stan" or "Binky." The other half of the Kolbe twins; a real man's man (that means he's gay); likes to play with explosives and make things go boom. Other characters: Antigua Delmar: "Tinker Bell" or "Tink," A superstar of popular music, nicknamed Tinker Bell by Mayhem due to her remarkable resemblance to Peter Pan's fairy friend. Katherine "Kathy" Mayhem: Mayhem's wife murdered by terrorists years earlier. Natalie Bernstead: A wartime USO singer well known and liked by veterans of the war mostly for her willingness to entertain front line troops with live shows. Cynthia Delmar: Antigua's mother and manager, music producer, beautiful woman and a bitch. Dumped Daniel without warning or reason. ------- Chapter 1 - Daniel- It was a little overcast and hazy as I entered the mouth of Tampa Bay and I could barely see the crystalline fingers of the buildings of downtown Tampa. There were a few breaks in the clouds so when the afternoon sun did break through it flashed off their plastisteel exteriors reminding me of an old style lighthouse welcoming a tired sailor home from the sea. Not that I could claim I was a sailor of yesteryear returning from a voyage to some exotic, distant land. No circumnavigation of the globe in search of spice for the fat homeland factors or silks for the pretty ladies waiting patiently for their intrepid wanderer to return bringing wonders and tales from the mythical orient or darkest Africa. No, it was more like petulant little boy slinking home after running away from his grownup duties like a forty-four-year old Peter Pan. Or maybe more like a pouting teenager hiding in his room wallowing in self-pity with a broken heart after the head cheerleader dumped him for the star jock. Both were equally true and not a particularly pleasant self-portrait if I do say so myself. However I had to admit I did feel one hell of a lot better than I did when I'd left two months earlier. What was I running away from you ask? Well, Cynthia Delmar for one. You never heard of Cynthia Delmar? I'm not surprised, but I'll bet my last New Dollar you've heard of her daughter, Antigua Delmar. That's right, the Antigua Delmar. Singer, vid artist and the present teen icon and idol of just about every thirteen to seventeen year old girl in the known world and the masturbatory fantasy of every teenage boy who's ever seen her. Come to think about it she probably features in the fantasies of quite a few older males, maybe some getting close to their mid-forties. She's a cute kid; there is no doubt about it. Tiny, slim with golden hair and piercing blue eyes; she looks about sixteen but is really close to twenty-two. Oh, that's right she is twenty-two now. I sort of remember sending her a birthday message when Sara reminded me of it. I say sort of because at the time I had about three-quarters of a liter of cheap rum under my belt and was feeling no pain. I hope I didn't embarrass myself too badly with it but to tell the truth I'd done that so may times during my little midlife rumspringa one more time probably didn't matter. Anyway, you know who I'm talking about. If you don't then turn on your vid and wait a few minutes; I'm sure she'll pop up in something. Back to Cynthia and why some big strong he-man, a war vet feared, hated, loved and revered throughout South and Central America, in about equal parts I should add, was running like a scared dog with his tail between his legs and just now slinking back home. Good question, but to understand why, you have to understand just who Cynthia Delmar is. As I said before Cynthia is Antigua's mother. She is also her business manager and a sharper mind in the music business I've never seen. Not that I know much about the music business but she is one smart lady. She is also one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Take Antigua, age her a few years, add legs you would be willing to die for and a pair of bright blue eyes that could keep any male mesmerized for hours. We met when Antigua chartered my boat for a weekend schmooze-cruise for recording bigwigs to sell her upcoming comp (that's short for compilation; us old farts used to call them albums). I have to admit I was a goner from the second she stepped out of her limo. For some reason she took a liking to this battered old hunk and I spent the next couple of months as happy as I've been since my wife Kathy was killed in a terrorist attack almost six years ago. I can admit it now but I was head over heels in love and seriously considering the possibility that this one would be one I would be with for the rest of my life. I really think she felt the same way about me at the time. Unfortunately she had one small flaw that I hadn't been aware of. Cynthia Delmar is fucked up in the head. I mean seriously fucked up and I don't mean the mass-murderer, killing spree with a knife and high heels type of fucked up. Actually, that I might have been able to tolerate. I've been called a mass-murderer and stone-cold killer before many times so I know how these little incidents can be blown way out of proportion. Nope. Her problem is she can't stay faithful to any one man for more than a few months if you put a gun to her head. She fell in and out of love faster than a teenaged girl changing outfits for the first date with a new guy. Oh sure, she'd love you with a passion hotter than a magnesium flare while she was with you but suddenly that would be gone like a switch had been thrown and the lights went out. She did it to me. Silly me. I thought everything was going great and ... Wham! The next thing I knew she was cuddled up against her next boy-toy mooning over him with those baby-blues. That ain't the way I'm put together. Say what you want about me but when I commit to someone I stay faithful. I was off playing soldier for a lot of my seventeen-year marriage to Kathy but I never once strayed over the line and believe me the opportunities were there for the taking if I'd wanted. I'm sure as death and government incompetence that Kathy did the same for me. If she ever did stray thank god she was discreet enough I never found out about it. I don't know what I would have done if I'd have found out she was cheating ... probably just died. The bottom line is I don't step out on my partner and I expect the same in return. Oh sure, over the past five years I've been know to play a little sheet music with a lady friend or two but with the understanding that's all it was, just a good old sweaty time together to clear the tubes and let off some pressure. Fuck-buddies is what they used to call it. I don't know what they call it now but it's all the same thing. Cynthia and I weren't just fuck-buddies and as far as I'm concerned she is pure poison. Sure, she's still drop dead gorgeous but I'd rather take up juggling live grenades then even look at her. It's true she did offer to come back to me once. Even said she'd stay with me, like that would happen, but I didn't have to even think twice before I turned down that offer. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and you can stamp the sucker mark on my forehead and kick me in the ass. I may not be the brightest bulb on the holiday tree but I'm not that stupid. So like any heartbroken adolescent after we snatched Tinker Bell back I took off in a pout like a cat with a stick of demo tied to its tail. Childish yes, but to tell the truth I feel much better now so maybe it was necessary. Who's Tinker Bell? Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Tinker Bell is Antigua. The funny thing is even after being betrayed by her mother Tink and I still remained friends. Don't ask me why for some reason we just click together and I don't mean sexually. Sure she's cute as a Labrador puppy and sexy as hell in her own right but there's this twenty and some odd years age difference not to mention the fact our experiences set us farther apart than the opposites sides of the Grand Canyon. She's the number one teen pop artist, vid star and celebrity icon of our day not to mention she's richer than God. Me? I'm just another broken-down war vet who spent ten years slogging through jungles killing and destroying most everything I could get my hands on. I'm not poor by any stretch of the imagination but I don't shit gold when I take a crap. Certainly not a friendship built on shared experience, that's for sure. Still, I do enjoy her company and she seems to do the same with me for some odd reason. Maybe it's the same fascination that keeps you coming back to the monkey house when you go to the zoo. Anyway I called her Tinker Bell when I first met her because she looks dead on like the little fairy that was Peter Pan's friend. I didn't think about it at the time but seeing how she somehow integrated herself into my team, it fit pretty well. My team? That's the Lost Boys or the Muchaches Peridos as we were know in most of SA (South America.) We were originally a U.N. SpecFor team put together primarily for crime interdiction when it became obvious to the rest of the world that the SA and Central American countries had about the same ability to govern themselves as two-year olds in a playpen. Mostly we were supposed to stop the terrorists being sent out of Venezuela-Columbia by the super-red Chavezistas but there was also human trafficking, i.e., sex slaves and tobacco heading up to the U.S. That was a good deal; I could almost always pick up my smokes for free from the loose contraband lying around. Yeah, I know the States banned all forms of tobacco years ago at the same time they legalized almost all other forms of recreational pharmaceuticals. So what? It's not like cancer is a problem anymore. Shit, take a little shot and no worries about that and even if it was, I got bigger things to worry about than a little uncontrolled cell division. Even if it were still a problem the chances of me dying from the Big C instead of, oh say, a bullet in the brain, are about the same chances of me winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Damned small. Although come to think about it the dead are rather peaceful so if you factored in body count ... Naah, the Muslims, Chinese and the French still got me beat. I'm just a piker compared to them. Back to what I was originally talking about: my team and Tink. Anyway my little band of intrepid adventurers got to calling themselves the Lost Boys and it kind of stuck. We even had handles (code words identifying each one of us) like Nibs, Tootles, Cubby and such. For some reason I never got one of those tags but one of the first groups we went against started calling me LaMuerte, The Death, and that stuck also. Beats the shit out of being Peter Pan I guess. Of course after the jihadists attacked the States and most of the civilized world and that crazy bastard Chavez decided he wanted to be king of the western hemisphere instead of just President-for-Life of Venezuela-Columbia they shifted our focus away from the petty criminals to the hordes coming out of SA trying to finish what fifty years of socially progressive U.S. administrations couldn't: destroy us, that is. I hear that in some rural parts of Venezuela the mere mention of the Muchaches Peridos can cause a grown man to piss his pants. Who says a man can't leave his mark on the world? So anyhow, Tink got her cute little ass grabbed by a syndicate that was looking to expand into the North American market. Unfortunately for them the business venture they were product-testing was kidnapping and their first test subject was Antigua Delmar. Not the wisest choice as it turns out. Suffice it to say we got her back with almost no bloodshed, comparatively speaking that is, but that leads me to my second reason for running away. I know Natalie said it was to ponder the strategic possibilities but I'm trying to be honest here: I ran away. There is just the tiniest possibility I might have inferred ― taken totally out of context of course ― during my discussions with this somewhat less than legitimate organization that the vets in the U.S. were a little more organized than they actually were. I suppose after reviewing the recording of that superlatively stupid but tactically effective operation I could see where they might have gotten that idea. Unfortunately, it just wasn't true. At that time the vets were about as organized as a 1990's rave party put on by a bunch of drunken college boys. Doubly unfortunate for one ex-SpecFor captain. It was pointed out to me post-op that if our South of the Border buddies found out the sum total of our vet organization consisted of seven broken-down has-beens they'd be down on us like stink on a dog fart in a heartbeat. So if I or my people were going to survive and thereby continue our lives as public nuisances and burdens to society, someone was going to have to actually organize the vets, a prospect that quite frankly scared the shit out of me. To begin with I had to ask myself if I really wanted to get involved in an effort with the ultimate aim of killing in an organized manner again. That's not as easy a question to answer as it might seem. Remember I'd spent ten years doing just that and let me tell you it ain't as clean and glorious as they make it out to be in the vids. In fact it's nasty, heartbreaking and soul-destroying at its best. Could I actually lead men and women back into situations where I know for a fact some of them are gong to die? The next question was the vets themselves. If you know a real combat vet you understand what I mean. Sure most of us can survive in a civilian world, but to be honest it's mostly us just acting like we fit in and I agree we do a fair job of it. Most people don't even realize they have a bug-nuts psycho-killer sitting at the desk next to them and as long as they don't find out all is well with the world. Now I'm not going to say our war was any worse than anyone else's but there were times when the casualty rate in the front lines came about as close to 100 percent as you can get. I don't care if you're Superman, that kind of intense fighting is going to change you. Try doing that for ten years. The result was as the armies drew down post-conflict they stripped the veneer of control, i.e. uniforms, rank, military discipline and chain of command, from these men and women leaving their training, knowledge, memories and paranoid delusions. My initial thought was these crazy fucking killing machines in civvies weren't going to take too kindly to someone trying to bring them back into the same kind of organization that did its best to kill them. My second thought was that the "someone" allowing them to focus their irritation on him would be me. Hence the need for brown pants. Besides, organizing the vets would be like trying to herd cats. Cats with guns. Cats with guns who knew how to use them. Now I know some the noble men and women of our past would seclude themselves behind closed doors to ponder the realities and ramifications of such weighty decisions, maybe surrounded by the works of great philosophers, religious leaders or ethical gurus. I could see them leaning on the combined works of these intellectual giants, wrestling with the balance of the good to be achieved as opposed to the evil that would surely be inadvertently released along with the angels. I took a slightly different tack. I spent two months drinking myself stupid, fucking anything that gave me half a chance and generally doing my best to insure no actual thought stayed in my conscious mind long enough for me to recognize it. The end result was the same and a foregone conclusion as anybody could have told me but my way was a hell of a lot more fun. Okay, I could have done without the hangovers that even D-tox could barely dent but given the choice between a monistic cell and looking up at the bottom of a barroom stool I can tell you which one I'd choose. So now it was time to grow a pair, pull my big-boy pants up and get on with it. ------- There was only one lone figure standing on the pier waiting for me as I pulled into my home berth. I wasn't exceptionally surprised, I hadn't exactly broadcast my arrival time but given that she see knew exactly when I'd arrive I had to figure all of them did. Like I said, I wasn't surprised. I assumed she'd been talking to Sara my, our, AI over the net "Hey, Mike," I called out. "How's it going?" "Yo, Boss," she answered cocking her head. "You look like shit. Got the bitch out of your system I'm guessing?" "You must be looking in a mirror," I grunted before grabbing her and giving her a tight hug. "Why yes, I'm very happy to be home; I missed you too. That's a lovely tan you have also, you get that in the County can?" "Fucking Top left me there for a week," she said pushing me away and punching me on the arm. "He doesn't love me like you do." "I always did spoil you; that's the problem," I sighed. "Any bodies we need to hide? What's the damage this time?" "Boss," she said looking hurt. "It wasn't like that at all. There I was taking a short nap down by the bay and these two cops sneak up and slapped restraints on me before I could even wake up. Vagrancy is what they said. Can you believe that shit? Vagrant! Me?" "Delinquent, yes; vagrant, no. Hmm, at least I don't have to pay off any hospital bills this time," I said stretching. "None they know of or can prove anyway," she grinned. "So, you ready to roll?" "Yeah, I guess I am," I sighed again. "Where is everybody anyway?" "Here and there," she said noncommittally. "They'll meet us later at Bennie's." "Aren't you even interested in what I've decided to do?" I asked. "Don't matter to me, Boss," she said shrugging. "Besides, Natalie already told us what you were going to do. That's one scary bitch, Boss. She like says something is going to happen, it happens. She got some deal with the devil, you think?" "We've all danced that dance once or twice." It was my turn to shrug. "I think she just sees things better than we do. She and Sam still together, I assume? Don't remember hearing anything different while I was gone but then some parts do seem to be a bit fuzzier than others." "Couldn't get them apart with a crowbar," she answered shaking her head. "They'll be there at Bennie's." "Better not let Sam hear you calling her a bitch then," I chuckled. "I ain't afraid of that pussy," she snorted. Sam massed at least three times hers and could probably twist the barrel of her sniper rifle around her neck without breaking a sweat but for all that I had no doubt she didn't have one gram of fear in her whole body, not from Sam anyway. For one thing Sam would rather die than hurt Mike and for another she just might be able to take him. Not in a fair fight sure, but who was stupid enough to fight fair? Mike is as deadly as she is pretty and her idea of a fair fight was you on the ground and her still standing. Come to think about it that sounds like as reasonable a definition as there is. "Well, unless you think you need a little nap after your vacation how about you getting you ass in gear, Boss," she called over her shoulder as she started walking down the pier. I jogged a bit to catch up. I needed to get out and do some real workouts; drinking and fucking for two solid months may be fun but it doesn't do much to keep the meat in fighting trim. "So, who is Maria?" she asked playfully as I came up beside her. "Christ! Didn't you have anything better to do than listen in on me?" I'd left the channel open through Sara my AI. She also happened to be the team's combat AI during the war. Don't ask how it came about that I still have her; I'd have to kill you for sure then. As a combat AI she had the ability to network all six of my team members. When networked any team member could listen in on what was going on with any other team member unless they specifically turned it off. Of course I had an override. I'd set her into combat mode during our little rescue operation and left it on afterwards since I didn't know what the hell was going to happen with the syndicate. Besides I figured they would worry about me less if they could hear I was still alive and who knew if I might have needed someone to bail my ass out of trouble. I didn't have any secrets from these guys and if they wanted to listen in on me puking my guts out in the morning or getting sweaty with some willing sweet thing, well that was their choice. "Better than a porn channel, Boss," she smirked. "If you must know, Maria was a nice young lady I met a couple of weeks ago and we spent some time together before she returned home." "Oh, Johnny, Johnny, my stallion! Oh God and Mother Mary I'm coming again! More Johnny! Oh my God you are killing me!" she mimicked in flawless Spanish. "I'd say it was some quality time. Was she able to walk when she left? Should we be expecting some little love-struck bunny to show up looking for her stallion?" I suppose I should mention I didn't use my real name on my trip: too much baggage with being Daniel Mayhem anywhere south of the Texas border. I was John Straight for my little escapade. "I don't think so. She wasn't interested in anything more than a few days' romp. Besides I never told her my real name; she wouldn't know where to find me." "You take her out in your boat?" Mike asked. "Sure, a couple of times," I answered wondering what she was getting at. "Then I think she could find you if she wanted to," Mike laughed jerking her thumb towards the stern of the Katherine, with its Port of Tampa plainly visible. "Oh yeah, there is that," I said lamely. "But like I said, I don't think that will be a problem. She had other places to go and other people to see." "I don't know," Mike needled. "A woman will do most anything for some good cock." "God, you're crude," I said shaking my head. "Hey, Boss," she laughed. "I wasn't the one making the bitch squeal like a pig on the end of a stick." "You been drinking this early?" I frowned. "Nope," she grinned. "Just my normal ornery self." "And to think I actually missed you," I sighed, shaking my head. "Missed you too, Boss," she said and paused. "Speaking of bitches — how you feeling about you-know-who?" "It's Cynthia, Mike. You can say the name, I can," I said. "Can't say it doesn't still hurt a little if I think about it but not enough so you'd notice. Most times I don't think about it at all." "So you did fuck her out of your system!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "I told you you would!" "Damn, you're crude," I shook my head. "But yeah, I guess you were right. So, has anybody been thinking about my little brain freeze when I sort of hinted we may have the vets organized around here? I guess Natalie was right: now that I've shot off my big mouth I'm going to have to do something about it." "We'll talk about it when we meet the team, Boss," she said not even looking at me. "So, how about a hint?" She didn't even bother to answer. "You're not going to give me anything are you?" "Not a God-damned thing, Boss," she smirked. "Bitch!" Don't you hate it when you call a woman a bitch and she just laughs at you? ------- "Hey guys, good to see you still alive," I said slipping into the booth and scooting down next to Natalie Bernstead as Mike used her hip to drive me over and plopped down in the end spot. "Glad you're back, Cap'n." "Have a nice one?" "Looking good, Captain." "You look like shit, Captain," Top said then he added thoughtfully, "Nice tan though." "Yeah well, I might have forgotten to take my sunscreen tabs once or twice," I admitted. "Hay, Nat, how's everything going?" "Just fine, Danny," she answered from where she was scrunched up against the impressive bulk of Sam Kolbe, her lover. "You seem to be feeling better." "Not bad," I shrugged. "I'm over my tantrum, if that's what you mean. You in town for a while?" If you've forgotten, Natalie Bernstead spent the whole ten years of the war as a USO singer. The whole fucking ten years! If there was a vet anywhere that didn't know, respect, or even love her for the service she did for us they must still be in a coma. She'd been touring on the road since the war ended but it was still in the smaller venues, mostly vet communities and such, but never as a headliner in any of the really big concerts. I suppose if you held me down and threatened to cut off my balls I'd be forced to admit she didn't have the best voice so far as professional standards of the day are concerned, not that I gave a shit about that. I still think it's a crime she didn't get the post-war recognition she deserved. "Not touring anymore, Danny," she grinned and looked up at her huge paramour. "I got better things to do than sleeping alone in some cruddy motel room." Stan, Sam's brother, rolled his eyes and snorted. "What else?" he asked exasperated. "The only thing you ever do is..." "Stan," Sam interrupted softly, tapping his finger on the table. "That's enough." "Well it's true," Stan protested. "The least you could do is put a sound curtain on your room." I almost grinned. What Natalie lacked in quality she made up for in volume. Probably came from doing shows so close to the front lines that she had to do them a cappella. Depending on the tactical situation there were times when any electronic emissions, even those from something as small as a voice amplifier, would be an invitation for a visit from an AR (Anti-Radiation) buzz bomb. She even had a few guys traveling with her playing acoustical music at the time and still traveled with them on some of the more recent tours. When was the last time you actually saw a real band playing? Not often if ever would be my guess; playing a real instrument in front of a live crowd is a dying art. I know, the AI-generated music is technically better and note perfect but it doesn't have the edge that a live band has. Besides, I don't know about you but I can instantly tell the difference between a simulated beat and the sound of an actual stick banging on the skins of a real drum. Both have their place, I suppose, but the sound of a real stick man seems to go better with the faster, harder music I like. "We do have a sound curtain, Stanley," Natalie said sweetly. Like I said, volume... "Anyway, Danny boy," she continued. "Now that you've killed some brain cells and cleared your soul of that stupid bitch, it's time you got to work." Natalie and Cynthia were actually good friends and knew each other well. That didn't mean Natalie approved of the way Cynthia treated the men she trapped and dumped. Natalie was empathetic by nature and the cruelly casual way her friend treated the feelings of her multitude of lovers didn't sit well with her. Still, sometimes a friend has to overlook the flaws in the other or there would never be friends anywhere; kind of like I overlooked Mike's drinking. I could tell she was still pissed about it though. "Yes, Mother," I said trying to sound repentant. The sharp elbow to the side made it clear she didn't believe it for a moment. "Oof!" I hissed. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But you know you clowns don't have to get involved with this if you don't want to. God only knows what kind of shit I'm going to be jumping into. I have a feeling trying to bring even some of the vets together in some kind of coherent organization is going to be like trying to herd cats with mice strapped all over your body." "Don't think it's going to be as hard as you think, Captain," Top mused thoughtfully. "I think it's an idea whose time has come. It's been almost eight years since the war ended and honestly I don't see things getting much better. "Sure we were heroes for the first few months right afterward," he continued. "But now it's like we're nothing more than an embarrassment. They're talking about cutting our 'lifetime' pensions again and what they've done to the widows and children of our fallen comrades is criminal. Not only have they cut their benefits again, now there's whisperings about cutting them off entirely." "Yeah," Brian added. "Now that the country is finally getting back on its knees again those fat-asses in NW are starting to think they should run the place again. (NW, that's New Washington. It used to be a suburb of Kansas City called Independence but when Washington D.C. was rendered uninhabitable by a "dirty" bomb they moved the seat of the federal government to the center of the country hoping it would be safer.) "That's right, Boss. I'll bet they even start trying to enforce some of those fucking laws they have again," Mike said tapping the pack of Mexican Marlboros I had sitting on the table in front of me. "Well we can't have that, now can we?" I answered tapping one out of the pack and lighting up. "While you've been gone we've been doing a little reconnoitering of some of the associations around here," Top said, smiling as he leaned back in the seat. "You might be surprised at just how much the vets around here think getting together a little more formally is a good idea." I was surprised. When Top used the word "associations" he was being exceedingly generous. For the most part the soldiers, sailors and airman who made it out of that goat-rope alive wanted little more than to be left alone. I understood their feeling completely; I felt the same way. All I wanted to do was to mind my own business and have everyone else keep theirs out of mine. These associations he was talking about were nothing more than informal networks of vets who happened to know each other or probably served with each other. As a group the vets were about as apolitical as you could get almost to the point of being anti-political and I was surprised to hear any of them would be even willing to talk about maybe coming together into something a bit more formal. A friend of mine with a hell of a lot more brains in this area than I do, a forensic sociologist no less, once told me this postwar period where the veterans essentially disappeared into the background was a necessary healing ― a grieving period. I suppose he was correct; maybe it did take that long before even a few of us could drag ourselves back into the land of the living at least enough to care that the country so many of us died for was spiraling down into a shithole. True, the country ― and the rest of the world for that matter ― was recovering from the war, but slowly at best and a lot of what was coming back wasn't particularly good. Take crime, for instance. Say what you want about the war but it virtually eliminated crime as a problem, especially violent crime. It's somewhat counter-intuitive when you think about it; after all most of the police and law enforcement personnel who were smart enough to know something more than just the location of the local donut shop (a bad stereotype I know since donuts had been outlawed along with all other fried foods by then, ) had been pulled into the military in the first few years of the war. You would have thought the criminals would have run amok without anyone there to stop them. Actually that did happen for a short while until the Universal Conscription Act in the second year of the war made anyone convicted of anything more than a minor misdemeanor eligible for immediate enlistment in the army. Remember, for the most part criminals are dumb, really dumb, and even a fat, dumb cop can catch an even dumber criminal. Once caught and convicted it was two weeks of basic training and into the jungle or out on the burning sands where it was a ninety-nine percent probability they wouldn't be coming back to cause any trouble. "Repeat offender" was a term that had lost almost all meaning. For about eight years the most violent and least sociable of our population was culled. It actually made it fairly peaceful for those that remained. Unfortunately this culling ended with the war and those that were too young to be thrown into the meat grinder grew up. The young thugs grew up and filled in the vacuum left by a justice system still trying, and failing, to catch up with them. I doubt there were any more troublemakers or misfits in that generation than there ever were but it didn't take much. Crime breeds crime so the worse it gets the more we got. Besides there were a lot of single-parent families in the States then and it's politically unpopular to say single-parent households are breeding grounds for crime. I don't give a shit if you believe me or not but in this case the statistics don't lie. So crime was a real problem although not necessarily in the areas vets tended to congregate. Looking back, I suppose it was selfishness more than anything, or maybe just an inability to look and really see what was happening outside our own little world. It was getting bad and even if we wanted to ignore it, we couldn't. Sooner or later it would affect us whether we wanted it to or not ― kind of like what happened to Tink. If crime wasn't bad enough there was the corruption. When D.C. got hit with that dirty bomb it didn't kill as many people as the terrorists had hoped and it certainly didn't kill the right people. I know, it's been said forever and it's probably true: it really doesn't matter who's at the top, they're all the same. Either they start out corrupt to get the job or the system corrupts them as they do everything they can to keep it. All I know is at that time there wasn't much of a justice system and it didn't seem to apply to those at the top at all. I'm not going to say the elections were rigged because I've never seen any proof they were but it seemed the only time there was a change was when someone retired or died. Come to think about it, there probably wasn't any need to tweak the votes given the almost universal voter apathy. Most of us just wanted to be left alone and the rest were just trying to survive. Besides the ones in power, especially at the national level, had become so entrenched most races were run uncontested. Change hadn't been a particularly high priority during the war and it kind of spilled over into the postwar years. It probably would have gone on that way for quite a while except the fat bastards living in their huge estates around New Washington seemed to want to start sticking their fingers in everybody else's pie again. What is it about someone who has everything? For some reason it's never enough. If they've taken everything that isn't already nailed down and pried up what they could, they want to start telling everybody else what to do with the crumbs left over. I could see it happening all over again. Tobacco was illegal but for almost eighteen years nobody really tried to do much about it. The same with beef, fried foods, sugared drinks and everything else that made life worth living. By the way I'm firmly convinced avoiding these pleasures does not increase your life span, it just seems like it. Bullshit you say? Well all I know is most of the so called doctors that babbled that crap are dead and I'm not. Who's laughing now? There was already more talk about increasing the various federal agencies tasked with policing these horrible crimes. I swear, there were times when I really believed the crime syndicates were lobbying the fed to crack down. You think I'm joking? Who do you think benefits most from this kind of nonsense? Make something illegal or more difficult to get by increasing your interdiction and the price goes up on the black market. If you don't believe me just look at the fifty years and billions of Old Dollars wasted on the dismal failure called the War on Drugs. Did it stop the use of drugs? No. What it did do was make a lot of really nasty crime bosses filthy rich and harder to get rid of than cockroaches. Shit! We still have them today! Under control for the most part but still here. Like I said, you may think I'm joking but I'm sure if we could look hard enough at where the money and motive for the resurgence of the "sin" laws you'll find the people who were already smuggling the stuff had their hands in it. I've had the chance to talk to some of these people over the years and although I've never had one actually admit this to me directly, I've garnered enough to know I'm right. As they say hindsight is twenty-twenty but to tell the truth it wasn't what I was thinking about back then. All I wanted was to keep the monsters out of my own backyard who wanted to use kidnapping as another revenue source. I don't think anyone was thinking of much more than that but it must have been there somewhere under the surface because if what Top was telling me was true, the vets wanted to talk and it surprised me. "You've already been talking with other vets?" I asked. "You didn't think we'd be sitting on our asses while you drank and fucked your way through SA, now did you, Boss?" Mike guffawed and gave me an elbow to the side. "Oof," I grunted. "Watch it, Mike. You could poke a hole in someone with one of those." I should have kept my mouth shut. "You saying I'm boney?" she hissed sounding outraged and jabbed me again. "You think something's wrong with me? Just because I ain't carrying the fat around like the skanks you been boning..." "You're not boney," Weird added helpfully. "Just skinny." "Skinny!" she shouted. "Why you little sexless..." "That's enough, Mike," I commanded putting my arm around her shoulder. I knew I was leaving my gut open for another pounding but I was hoping to diffuse the situation quickly. A bruise on the ribs was worth it, or I should say another bruise on the ribs. Mike had a tendency to wind herself up for no reason at all sometimes and while I didn't worry about it becoming lethal ―much ― it could get messy. "You are perfect just the way you are," I soothed. "You are a slim, sleek, sinewy jungle cat. Deadly and beautiful at the same time." "Damn right I am," she muttered and looked over at my hand on her shoulder. "You are so full of shit I'm surprised your eyes don't turn brown." My eyes are brown, greenish brown anyway. Reaching up she grasped my hand with her thumb and forefinger and pointedly picked it up and removed it. "And keep your hands to yourself; I know where they've been." "Sinewy jungle cat," she preened. "I like that." Everybody laughed and Mike settled down although every once in a while I could hear a subdued growl coming from her direction. Sometimes I had a tendency to forget that Mike may be one hell of a soldier and deadlier than a viper but she was still a woman, a pretty woman at that. My sexual interest in Mike was just about zero but she was still one of the best friends I had and I needed to remember to acknowledge that side of her once in a while. She was on the unhealthy side of skinny as far as I was concerned but pointing it out to her wouldn't be constructive. "Anyway, back to the subject we were discussing before being interrupted by our Pampas cat," Mike sat up, grinned and preened again. "You have already been talking to some of the others?" "Yep," Top nodded. "In fact we have a meeting right here, tomorrow night at twenty hundred hours with a few of them." "That was quick." "Had it all set up already," he shrugged. "We were just waiting for the word that you were coming back." "Have you already decided what we're going to talk about?" I ask curiously. "Funny you should ask that," Natalie broke in. "In fact we've been talking about it for a while now. Here are some of the ideas we had..." Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 2 - Daniel- They were already there when I arrived which was a bit embarrassing since I'd tried to come early specifically to be there before them. There were four in addition to Top and Mike who was hovering around in the background trying to blend into the crowd which in a vet bar wasn't difficult. "If I'd known I was going to be the last one I'd have made a grand entrance," I quipped reaching down to shake the first hand I could reach. "Bill Maker, St. Petersburg," said the short, roundish man with the neatly trimmed mustache and dead cold eyes. His body may have been round but he wasn't out of shape and I don't think I'd ever want to meet him in a face-to-face fair fight. I doubted that would ever happen. He was a survivor and survivor's hardly ever fought fair. I know I didn't. "Colonel, 82nd Airborne," I replied. "Seven years in Iran, Iraq, Saudi Republic..." "Eight actually," he said waving to stop me. Then he paused and looked thoughtful. "Or maybe it was seven and it just seemed longer. No, it was eight but that's close enough. Good to finally meet you, Captain." He had the short, clipped tones of a British officer but was American clear to the bone. It wasn't unusual for someone who spent that much time over in the sandbox. I'd met a number of fellow officers who'd adopted their British comrades' mannerisms and speech patters; it was hard not to. Say what you want about the Brits but their officers were professional, competent and as cool under fire as a block of ice; they breed them that way I think. There was a lot to admire in our islander cousins and it had a tendency to rub off. I smiled and he smiled back but there was very little warmth behind it. I moved on to the next one. "Jim Preston, Tarpon Springs, Marine Forward Expeditionary Forces," he said, his smile was friendly and wasn't forced. "I think Top mentioned you once or twice," I nodded. "You were in both theaters, weren't you?" "Yeah," he shrugged. "They moved us around a bit. Couldn't find one place bad enough to kill us so they'd try another; almost succeeded once or twice." I could only grunt in agreement. "Carla Medford, Sarasota," the next said offering her slim, impeccably manicured hand. "US Strategic Air Corp." Even before the war started the Air Force had been split with most of its tactical and logistical wings transferred to the Army or the Navy depending on their intended use. What had been left was mostly the nuclear deterrent arm; the highly mobile strategic stealth missiles and the space-based defense platforms. It was highly unlikely she had ever seen combat in the same manner the rest of us had but I also knew she had been head of one of their security divisions and from what I'd heard they had seen plenty of action against domestic terrorists, infiltrators and idiot peaceniks wanting to eliminate our nuclear protection. Like her hand, she was slim and elegant looking. I knew she had to be in her mid-fifties but she obviously didn't disdain modern cosmetic enhancement; she appeared to be an ageless thirty. She reminded me a little of someone I didn't want to think about. "Lt. General, I believe. I'm very pleased to meet you." I smiled at her but she gave me little more than a hard, apprising stare. "Shara Billings, Lakeland," the final one said. Her handshake was firm and no-nonsense. Where General Medford was slim and graceful Billings was squat and mannish. If she had been trying to give the impression of the stereotypical bull dyke, she did a great job. "A fellow UNer, I believe," I said and she grinned. She had been a Lieutenant in the UN's Special Operations unit. They had been the planners behind the Special Forces. If we were the pointy end of the spear they were the hands pointing us. It's easy for us slope-headed grunting types slogging through the jungle to feel disdain for the REMFs who seemed to do little more than tell us where to go and who to kill since it usually turned out to be the wrong place, the wrong time and the wrong targets. During the first couple of years of the war that's pretty much exactly how it happened but by the end I have to admit they were doing a pretty damn good job. I'd seen Billings's name on a number of our operational briefings in the last couple of years although I'd never met her in person and have to admit I couldn't think of anything particularly nasty to say about her. Sure there had been a couple of real clusterfucks but during war if anything actually goes right you count it as a blessing; a pooch-screw now and then is just standard operating procedure. Besides, if we didn't get stuck in a good ol' goat-rope now and then we'd probably start believing in all kinds of silly things like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and effective government assistance. "Hope you don't hold it against me," she said. "Naw," I answered while sitting down in the one empty chair. "No hard feelings. Although I have to admit there was a time or two if I'd have had one of you SpecOps types out in the field with us ... Well let's just say we might have had a discussion or two as to what the term "minor resistance" really means." "Are you still whining about that ammo dump?" she chuckled. "What a baby." The dump she was referring to happened to be a big mother-fucking dump and was supposed to be lightly defended by only a platoon of Indents, that's indigenous local militia. What we found was a whole fucking battalion of Vencoms; that's Venezuelan-Communist troops and tough fuckers for sure. The Vencoms were well trained, well equipped, dedicated to their cause and like all Chavezistas willing to die for their supreme leader. It was one of those fur-balls I was talking about and it still gave me nightmares every now and then. "You got the job done and out of there with all the skin on your ass," she continued. "What more do you want?" "Fuck you too," I grunted and she sat back in her chair and laughed out loud. "If you two are finished with your requisite insults and recriminations can we get to the point of this meeting?" Maker asked tapping on the table. "Are we here to talk a little treason?" "Treason?" I blurted more than a little surprised. "Not that I know of. I mean I didn't ask you here to form a cabal to overthrow the government, if that's what you're asking." "Pity," he said steepling his fingers in front of him. "I've been thinking lately a little treason might be in order around here. If you've noticed events have been tending a tad toward the chaotic recently." Billings and Preston nodded their agreement while Carla Medford just looked at me as she tapped a long thin cigarette out of a decorative case and lit it. "Yeah, well, maybe they have," I grunted. "But trying to cure the world's woes isn't exactly what I had in mind." "What exactly do you have in mind?" Medford asked blowing a cloud of blue, perfumed smoke in my direction. "Something a little more local," I smiled lighting one of my own Mexican Marlboros and blowing the smoke back at her. She smiled just a little at that. I'd been right; she was testing me, pushing just a bit probably just to see what I would do. Would I blow up, cower or push back? "I'll admit I haven't been paying as much attention to what is going on as I should have. Ignoring it and hoping it would go away and leave me alone, I suppose if you want me to be honest. But unfortunately I can't anymore. A situation arose a couple of months ago that demonstrated clearly to this ostrich that he'd better get his head out of the sand, or out of his ass if you prefer." "We saw the recording, Captain," Maker interrupted. "Quite a respectable little operation you had there. Nasty bunch, those. I wouldn't have bet a brass penny you would have been able to get the little skirt out alive but you did. Quite respectable." I looked over at Top surprised they had seen the recording. He just looked back at me with that little smile of his that made me want to serve up roast Top for dinner. "Quite insane is more appropriate," Medford interjected coolly. "If you had been working for me I would have had your balls nailed to the wall of my office for a stunt like that." Involuntarily I squeezed my legs together and just stopped myself from reaching down to make sure the boys were safe. I don't think I was the only one. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you on that," I said looking at her. "At least about the insane part anyway." "There were probably a dozen better ways to do it," I admitted as I continued. "But I was a little pressed for time and none of them came to mind right then." "I told you about these SpecFor guys," Billings smirked. "Crazy doesn't even begin to describe them. You may think they're all insane but that's only by using your own frame of reference. It doesn't apply when you talk about them. It's like wondering why a cat doesn't act like a dog. It doesn't because it's a cat, not a dog." "You make us sound superhuman or some such shit like that," I snorted. "Captain, humans don't survive what we sent you into," she responded casually. I was a little taken aback by that but couldn't think of a pithy response so I got on with the business at hand. "Since you've seen the recording I'll get right on to what we brought you here for," I started. "Now, I'm not against a little bit of smuggling in principle. Done a bit of it myself a time or two so I can't say I'm personally riled up about Juan Carlos or his group even though I wouldn't want them as neighbors or anything like that. For the most part their operation doesn't bother me; the kidnapping shit does and I'm thinking of taking a little harder look at their methods of procuring sex partners for our high and mighties around here. I'm thinking their idea of 'consensual' and mine might not be coming from the same dictionary. "The fact is if we allow this kidnapping for ransom business to get started here there will be hell to pay getting it out. Now is the time to stop it. As you heard during my little talk with Juan I might have inferred if one was inclined to take it that way, that there was a little bit more of an organization behind me than there really was." "I'd say that was an understatement, ol' boy," Maker chuckled. "I'd say if their organization found out it was just the seven of you they may believe it worth the effort to remove you." "Exactly," I nodded. "There aren't just seven of us anymore though. My team has been recruiting a few of the local boys and girls who are of like mind but we're just starting. In a month or two we'll probably have enough signed on so that my slight exaggerations won't have been a complete lie. But that's for just here in the Tampa area; we don't have anything where you live and I wouldn't be surprised to see the same kind of crap popping up there if they think they can get away with it. "Top has been doing a little research and it looks like the kind of snatch and grabs I'm worried about are beginning to increase all around the Gulf and up the Eastern Seaboard. I'd like to snuff it out altogether but for now I'd be happy with just keeping my own backyard clean." "So what do you want from us?" Medford asked neutrally. "Ideas, information, mutual support," I fired back. "I don't even know if it's possible but I'd like to organize the vets around here in a kind of mutual aid society. Look, we all know the local cops don't have the wherewithal to handle these people." Billings and Preston rolled their eyes while Maker and Medford looked at me nonplused. "They've had it too soft for too long now. Even the few vets joining the local cops haven't been able to stiffen the force's backbone up to even jellyfish level. Shit, I wouldn't be surprised if half the force was on the take now with the other half are filling out their applications even as we speak. If someone is going to do it, it's going to have to be us." "And I suppose you want to lead this ... mutual aid society?" Maker asked. "Me?" That really did surprise me. What did they think I was trying to do, take over their "territory?" "Not in this lifetime, Colonel. Let me say this very clearly: No. Fucking. Way." "Then just what are your expectations for this organization?" Maker noticably relaxed. He may have even smiled but I couldn't be absolutely sure; it could have been a trick of the light. "If you aren't to lead then, who will? An army needs a leader, doesn't it?" "This isn't the army and no offense, General," I nodded towards Medford, "but we don't need or want someone with stars on his or her shoulder bossing us around." "Here, here," Maker grunted tapping the table again. "I agree completely. But I must add a group of people — even veterans — without some sort of leadership isn't an organization, it's a mob." "True," I reluctantly agreed. "I have to admit I haven't thought this out completely but that's part of the reason I invited you here: for ideas. I guess I was thinking in terms of a number of local well-known vets getting together like this exchanging ideas and planning things together." "So we would form our own cabal, our own syndicate, to fight their syndicate," Maker chuckled. "There is some poetic justice in that." "I can't say I like the sound of that," I grumped. "But I suppose if you really want to be honest — a rose by any other name..." "I understand what you are looking for here and agree in principle," Medford said dropping her cigarette into the butt-kit on the table. "I propose we meet next week, same time, and continue this discussion. That will give us some time to think and get a feeling for what is or is not possible in our own local areas. Any disagreements? Comments?" "Where do you propose we meet, General?" Preston asked. "Why not right here if that is agreeable?" she said waving her hand around Bennie's interior. "It's centrally located, appears to afford us privacy if we wish it and has an interesting ambiance. Plus I can smoke here without having to shoot anybody." "I think that wouldn't be a problem, Carla," I said purposefully using her given name. "I didn't think it would be, Daniel," she answered with just a hint of smile. "And I believe security shouldn't be a problem here either. By the way, you can tell your pet attack dog she can stand down. I don't think any of us will be trying to take you out anytime soon. Her hand stays a little too close to that piece she's packing under that jacket for my comfort." She obviously wasn't talking about Top. "I don't know what you mean," I answered slowly. "I didn't bring anyone here for protection. Hell, I didn't even consider the need for it." "You trying to tell us the brunette with the legs fleecing the rubes at darts ain't one of your team?" Billings chuckled. "That's Sergeant Darlington," Top interjected. "And the Captain didn't ask her here for protection. In fact he didn't ask her here at all; I did." "Ah, the infamous Sergeant Nibs. You have a nasty, suspicious mind, Master Sergeant Marker," Shara chided and then grinned. "I heartily approve." "So do I," Medford added as she uncrossed her legs and stood up. "But you can tell her to stop looking at me like I had concentric circles on my back. At the very least you could inform her I don't do my own wetwork. It musses the nails." She pointedly looked down at her perfectly manicured hands. "I'll let her know," I said with a chuckle. ------- That week started a number of interesting changes; some I liked and some I hated. The changes at Bennie's fell under both of those categories. First what I hated: the installation of sound curtains around a number of booths and tables in the back of the room. All right, I admit it was necessary and the privacy was welcome too. They weren't so much standard sound screens as security curtains. Once activated you could set them so it just muffled the din of the exterior room as a whole or set at max it added distortion to the sound block. It would take some mighty sophisticated gear to penetrate those blocks and even lip-reading wouldn't be possible. It added quite a bit of security when I met with my group every night as we plotted, planned and reported. I know the security was necessary, or could be necessary, but I missed the ambience of the main room: the music, the cursing and the sounds of a bar filled with friends or near friends having fun. At least they could be turned off when we were finished. The main reason they were necessary according to Bennie, aside from our security and the necessity of keeping what we said away from some unfriendly government or syndicate weasel's ears, was the sound level in Bennie's was becoming — to say the least — intense and customers were complaining they needed a break from it just to hear themselves think. I'm not sure exactly who convinced Bennie he needed top of the line military-grade equipment but I had a notion it was probably Top along with Weird. I didn't bother to look all that closely but if I had I wouldn't have been at all surprised that I had subsidized some of it. Not that I cared one little bit; we got security and Bennie made his customers happy: win-win as far as I'm concerned. Even better was the fact not everybody had the codes that would move them beyond just a sound screen, only a few select regulars. Besides if I'm being honest it's more than a little our fault he even needed the damn things. Actually it was Natalie's fault and her being there was Sam's fault and Sam being there was my fault ... Anyway you see why I didn't mind so much. Why Natalie's fault? Easy. What do you think happens when you bring the number-one USO singer into a bar of vets night after night? Remember Natalie was probably the only good thing they remember during the whole freaking time they were in the service. They knew her, they loved her, some of them even worshipped her. What are they going to do? That's right, ask her to sing. Practically every single night she was there while I was gone — which was most nights she wasn't on the road wrapping up her tour commitments — there was the constant "Na-ta-lie! Nat-ta-lie! Nat-ta-lie!" as they begged, pleaded and groveled for her to sing. She did of course, with Sam's enthusiastic permission. Let's be fair: yeah she had given up the road but not because she didn't like to perform. Hell, she loved to perform! She'd given it up to be with Sam and this was her chance to stay in the spotlight and bask in the adoration of the crowd. Truthfully, it'd scare the shit out of me, but she thrived on it. Anyway when I'd left on my little jaunt, Bennie's had this little rinky-dink stage with a pathetic sound system without even AI-assist. They told me after a week or so of her giving them one or two sets a night the crowds more or less forced Bennie to upgrade all of it. Pretty soon other singers were asking if they could sing there and it wasn't long before Bennie's was wall-to-wall sound from just after 2000 hours until closing time in the wee hours of the morning, much to the disgust of its owner. "God damn it, Mayhem," he groused to me. "You people are fucking up my place totally! I wanted a nice quiet dive and now I have this fucking rock-and-roll palace!" I commiserated with him. I kind of missed the quiet times myself but the music was damn good. Luckily Bennie's greed superseded his desire to retain his carefully planned ambiance; it's hard to complain too loudly when you're raking in the cash faster than you know what to do with it and the sound curtains helped. About two-thirds of the place was given over to the new rowdy loudness while what remained stayed pretty close to what we once had. Like I said: I loved it and I hated it. Anyway we could met in peace, review what we'd all done for the day and make sketchy plans for the next and then get shitfaced, dance or soak up the tunes, sometimes all three. Actually the good did seem to exceed the sucky parts; didn't mean I stopped complaining right along with Bennie but nobody paid much attention anyhow. Actually I did stop after a while, at least out loud. I think what finally did it was when Tink told me to shut up and stop whining. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a girl about the same age as your daughter tell you to shut-up, sit down and soldier on? Needless to say I took her advice and rolled with the punch in my normal stoic and fatalistic fashion. Some low-life's called it pouting but we know it wasn't, really. Yes I still talked to Tink. I hadn't forgotten what her mother did to me but she wasn't her mother and besides I really like the little squirt. She'd call or send me a vid message every other night or so just to update me on her tour which was going great from what she could explain. Truthfully I hardly ever thought about Cynthia anymore; too busy for one thing and just maybe having tried to fuck myself to death for two months helped. It didn't hurt, I can tell you that. Anyway she was just a memory that mildly pissed me off but nothing more than that. I'm not going to lie and say I felt I was lucky to be rid of her but at least it didn't ache any more the few times I happened to think of it. So Tink and I kept in touch and I have to admit I kind of liked it. ------- "Has everybody given a thought to what we want to accomplish here?" Medford asked as she casually lit her long, thin cigarette and blew the blue colored smoke up towards the ceiling. I nodded and she waved her hand in my direction as if to give me the floor. "I think so," I said still nodding. "To begin with I'd like to make a proposal how we, the people around this table, should govern our little enterprise. Bill was right last week: no matter how independent each of us wants to be we have to have some rules as to how we work with each other. I'm not suggesting we force anyone to do it this way but whatever we come up with we should all follow it. If anyone doesn't like it, they don't have to play in our sandbox." Everybody nodded their affirmation. "First, I think we should look at ourselves as a sort of executive committee. Everybody is an equal although I do think we should have a chairman to lead the discussions or else they'll probably be about as chaotic as recess time in kindergarten." "I agree," Maker added. "I think we should take care of that first. Who should be our chair?" "I nominate General Medford," I said before anyone else could speak up. I was hoping to forestall even the possibility it would be me. The best defense is to attack early and quickly. "Why am I not surprised," she responded dryly. I guess I didn't fool her one little bit. "Any other nominations? None? Very well, I accept for now. I suppose the first order of business is to decide what the hell we're going to call ourselves. Any ideas?" "How about the Veterans Benevolent Society?" I said. "The VBS for short." "Sounds about as good as anything for now," Preston snorted. "Although I'm not sure how benevolent some of your society members have been to some of the more undesirables in the area," he waved in the general direction of the street. "Anything that might have happened was done with kindness and compassion," I said sweetly. "For the good people in the area anyway. The thugs, muggers and rapists, to be truthful, I couldn't give a shit about. Don't tell me there haven't been similar, ah, cleansings, in your part of town?" He just shrugged. "I think we can all say the same about our own areas," Shara Billings added. "But I do think one of the first things we should do is try to develop a set of rules for what we do and to whom — our own rules of engagement, if you will. We can't just march around and snuff people we don't like. If we do that we'll be little more than a bunch of paramilitary death squads. We have to have some rule of law even if it's our own law." "I completely agree," I nodded and everybody else did also. "Shara, would you start drafting your thoughts on the matter and bring them to us next week?' Carla asked. Shara nodded and made a note on her comp. "Now as for short term objectives for this benevolent society," she continued. "What should they be?" We thrashed that one out for quite a while and actually came up with a pretty long list, but to break it down into simple bites essentially it came down to three things: First to protect the lives, property and honor of veterans. Second, to prevent the encroachment into our sphere of influence of undesirable organizations and practices; and last, to assist in any way possible the families of veterans who died during or after the war. As far as we were concerned the widow (widowers) and orphans were just as much a part of us as our brothers or sisters in arms had been. Looking back, it was a pretty unremarkable beginning for something that would become far bigger than the five people sitting around that table. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 3 Interlude: Pat and Brad The doorbell chimed its warning and Patricia slowly made her way to the front of the house to answer it. Fucking debt collectors, she thought tiredly. Haven't they figured out you can't get blood from a stone? We already live in government housing. What the hell else do they think they can take away from us? One more month, Harold, just one more God-damned month! Patricia's husband had died almost eight years before in the last month of the war leaving behind his young wife, two daughters and a third that had been conceived just weeks before his ill-fated return to duty. The death benefit had lasted a few years with her thriftiness and her position in cosmetics sales for a local beauty spa plus the ever-decreasing survivor's pension kept them more or less fed but just barely and there were those emergencies that always seemed to happen ... It meant they could never get ahead and were in fact slowly slipping into desperation. The apartment they could keep; it was guaranteed but if they started to attach her meager pay ... At least they would have a roof to starve under. "Look," she said resigned to a halfhour or more verbal fisticuffs with a bill collector who was after all just doing his job. "We don't have anything to give you. I'm sorry but there just isn't..." She stopped abruptly when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Actually she had no idea who the handsome young man was but she was fairly sure no bill collector would be calling carrying a very large box. A very heavy box also she surmised from his bulging forearm and bicep muscles and there were quite a few of both of them. "Mrs. Patricia Henderson?" he asked. "Yes," she answered slowly. "You are — were — the wife of Lance Corporal Harold Henderson, ma'am?" he grunted. "Yes," she answered again now more curious than resigned. "Great," he huffed. "Ma'am, do you mind if I put this down? This sucker is heavy!" "Sure, put it down wherever you want," she said. "It's yours after all." "Actually it's not, ma'am, it's yours," he said with a grin. "Mine? But I didn't order anything," she stated and then added ruefully, "I doubt anyone would give me the credit to buy a bag of air let alone anything else. I hope you don't expect to get paid for whatever it is you're pushing because if it cost a nickel to fly around the world I haven't got enough to get out of sight." "No, ma'am," he reassured her. "This is a gift from the VBS. It doesn't cost you anything. Mostly food and a few toiletries and such. Not much, I'm afraid, but we're just getting started." "The VBS?" she asked puzzled. "Who the hell are they and by the way who the hell are you?" "Oops, sorry," he muttered sheepishly. He set the box down at his feet with a grunt and fished a card out of his shirt pocket. "I'm new at this and still forget." The card was a plain white business card the likes of which she hadn't seen for years since most contact information is transmitted com-to-com. It read simply in bold script, Veterans Benevolent Society, Bradley Miller, Field Representative. "I take it you're Bradley Miller?" she asked staring at the card. "Yep," he said, the grin still plastered on his face. Reaching into a back pants pocket he pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. He extracted another card and passed it to her. This time she recognized it as a standard Government Issue service identification card issued to all present or past service members. Harold had had one just like it. They were supposed to be impossible to forge. "Can be faked," he said as if reading her mind. "But it'd cost a hell of a lot more than I'd be willing to pay. "Okay," she said handing the card back to him. "I believe you are you. That still doesn't tell me what you're doing here or what's in the box. Oh what the hell, come on in. No sense trying to talk with you standing out there." She opened the door wider and stepped back giving him room to enter. "Thank you, ma'am," he said stooping down to lift the box with another groan. He carried it in and glanced at her questioningly silently asking where she wanted him to set it down. "Oh, on the table I guess," she answered, waving towards the rickety table that came with the apartment. He looked at the table, arched his brows and then down at the box. "I don't think that's going to hold it, ma'am," he finally said. "Do you mind if I just set it down on the floor?" "No, go right ahead," she said as he put it down and straightened up. "And could you stop with all the 'ma'ams'? You make me feel even older than I already do. Now, can you please tell me what is going on here?" "Sure can, ma- Mrs. Henderson," he said as he pulled up one of the chairs next to the box and sat down. He wasn't even looking up at her when suddenly there was a huge knife in his hand with its blade springing out and clicking into position. Patricia gasped when she saw it and took a step backwards. "Oops, sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "I keep forgetting people can get kind of nervous around knives." With three deft movements he sliced the tape holding the lid together, the reinforced tape parting like magic as the blade whispered over it. When he was done the knife disappeared like it had never been there. Patricia had no idea where it went. "It's just a tool to me," he continued as he pressed the lid back and reached in to pull out an armload of stuff which he deposited on the table. "Never really even considered it a weapon although I suppose it sure could be. I never liked knife fighting personally. Always figured if someone was close enough to stick it in they were too damn close for my liking. Sorry about the language. Got to work on that too, I suppose." "What is all this?" Patricia asked, he curiosity over what he was piling on the table overcoming her momentary fear of the man and his knife. "Well," he said picking up a tube that looked like an old style toothpaste tube. "This is a field-ration or fi-rat for short. There are other names for it but I wouldn't say them in the presence of a lady. It's got all the nutrition needed to sustain your average combat soldier in the field for one day. You and your youngest could probably get by with half a tube a day but eat as much as you want; we got plenty. Make sure you drink plenty of water though; it kind of expands in your stomach. You might want to try to get your oldest two to eat a whole one every day though; kids like them need a lot more calories then us lazy butt-sitting oldsters. Just use what you want and recap it; doesn't even need refrigeration." "My husband used to talk about these," she said idly picking one up to look at it. "He said they taste like sawdust." "Oh, he got the good ones then," Bradley laughed. "Seriously, they taste like crap but they'll keep you alive forever. I'm not saying you have to eat them exclusively but none of you have to go hungry ever again. There are a few other things in here: some teeth cleaners, field towels and some, ah," he blushed and looked everywhere except at her then added quickly, "some female things some of the wives packed." Patricia leaned over and looked in the box and then up at Bradley with a grin. "A big strong man like you afraid of a few paper pads?" she teased. "Not afraid, just embarrassed," he admitted. She knew she could tease him some more, but right then there were other things she wanted to know. "This is wonderful," she said as she felt tears in her eyes. "But why? Why are you giving this to us? We can't pay you for it. I can try but to be honest I'll probably never be able to." "It's already been paid for," he said as he looked straight at her his voice hardening with every word he spoke. "Your husband paid the price for this and much more eight years ago." "But..." she started before he interrupted her as he continued. "You saw the card, right? You probably haven't heard of us before since we've just started but the VBS is a group of us vets who have gotten together to help out those of us that need help. The American people's memories seem to be even shorter now than they have been in the past and we vets seem to be getting the pointy end of the stick. Cutting benefits, reducing pensions ... the whole ball of wax. We know the survivor's pension you've been getting is getting smaller and smaller every year and it won't be long until it's not just tiny, it'll be nothing. There's not much we can do about that for now, but we can help ourselves out as much as possible." "But I'm not a veteran!" she blurted before he could stop her. "You yourself didn't fight in the sand or the jungle," he replied. "But your husband did. That makes you one of us for as long as you want to be. You need something, just ask we'll see what we can do." "But how can you afford to do all this," she waved her hands at the box helplessly. "Well, I'm not going to say we have all the money in the world," he answered. "But we have plenty to do this little bit now. Doesn't take all that much, to be honest. The fi-rats — shoot the government has whole warehouses filled to overflowing with them, all excess to their needs. They sell it through consignment brokers but there hasn't been a real big demand up till now. The government won't let them trash it but otherwise doesn't seem to care how much they sell it for. We pick it up for literally pennies a kilo and they're glad to get rid of it. Buying at a slow steady pace keeps the price down, but don't worry, there's more than enough for everybody." "This says you're a field representative. What does that mean?" she asked as she looked at his card again. "It means I'm here to help you," he said. "I've got another four families pretty much like yours and it's my job to help you with whatever we can. I'll be coming by with supplies like these every week but if there's something you need before that don't hesitate to call me. I can't guarantee we can solve all your problems but we can sure give it a shot." "You're like a case worker," she stated. She remembered seeing one of those once when she applied for the apartment but not since. She'd heard you could get an appointment with one if you wanted to wait two years. She hadn't even bothered. "But you're not with the government?" "Well, Uncle Sammy pays my military pension," he grins. "So I guess you could say the government is paying me to do a job they should have been doing right along." "So this VBS doesn't pay you?" "Not like that," he admitted. "Never asked, to tell the truth. I do get cash every now and then if there's something I need to get that we don't stock but I find I don't need it that often." "I don't understand," she said shaking her head. "You don't have to, Mrs. Henderson," he said standing to take his leave. "Let's just work on getting you back on your feet and then work on understanding." "Is there something I can do to help?" she asked as she also stood. "Maybe sometime," he answered after a thoughtful pause. "Like I said some of the wives come in to help pack for us and I'm sure they'd be glad for the help now and then. But the important thing is to get you and the girls up and running again. There'll be plenty of time to help out later." "You seem to know a lot about us for being a complete stranger," she said. Ordinarily she might have felt threatened with someone showing up out of the blue knowing so much about their personal life but for some reason with Bradley Miller it didn't. For absolutely no reason she could put her finger on she trusted him. "Just public files, Mrs. Henderson," he answered. "We won't invade your privacy, I promise." "That's another thing, Mr. Miller," Patricia huffed. "I'm not old enough to be a ma'am no matter that I may look it and I haven't been Mrs. Henderson for eight years. I loved my husband but he's dead. Please just call me Patricia, or Pat." "Sure thing, Pat," he grinned. "And you don't look old and you know it. You're one of the prettiest women I've met and look younger than me although I happen to know you are just a tiny bit older. Mind if I as a personal question? Don't answer it is you don't want to. In fact you can tell me to go fu- lose myself if you want. But why haven't you remarried? Like I said, you're very, very pretty; I'm sure you have plenty of guys coming to call on you." "Well, that is a very personal question," she laughed. "And thank you for the undeserved compliment. I suppose I have had a few dates but all they really wanted to do was go to bed and once they found out I have three little bundles of joy they usually didn't even want to do that." "Stupid," he muttered shaking his head. "Well, what about you? What does your wife think about you visiting all these lonely, desperate widows everyday?" she teased. "No wife," he grinned. "And no steady right now either. Haven't seemed to settle down long enough over the past few years. But someday maybe." "As for all you lovely widows," he continued. "The captain made it perfectly clear that if he caught me taking advantage of any of you just because you might feel gratitude for what we're doing he'd nail my ba- hide to the wall and use it for target practice." "Well we certainly wouldn't want your — hide — nailed to the wall would we?" she asked with a giggle. "The captain?" "Captain Mayhem, Pat," he nodded also grinning. "Hopefully you'll get to meet him soon. A real interesting guy; a legend in the service and about the nicest person you'd like to meet for all his reputation." "Reputation?" "Hmm, not sure I should tell you until you've had a chance to meet him," Brad said after a pause. "Let's just say he's not the type of person you want to have mad at you. He and his team were in the Special Forces if that means anything to you and they were very good; very, very good." "I think I will do my best not to get this Captain Mayhem mad at me then," Patricia answered with raised eyebrows." "I think I can say with personal certainty that you would not be able to make him angry," Brad assured her. "Now if you have anybody messing with you, that might do it. He's a widower himself you see and feels kind of protective when it comes to dependents and children." "I wish he were here now," she muttered mostly to herself. "Oh? And why is that?" Brad asked his smile disappearing completely. "Nothing, nothing really," she said trying to shrug it off but relented under his withering stare. "Well, there are these guys downstairs. They haven't done anything to me except a few comments here and there but Charlene..." "Charlene's your oldest, right?" he asked thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "About fourteen if I remember. They been giving her some trouble?" "Nothing I suppose ... Nothing we can do anything about anyway," she said clasping her hands tightly as she looked down at them. Then suddenly it gushed out, "They tell her they're going to make her their whore! They surround her and touch her and..." Suddenly Patricia broke down and started crying. "The police say they can't do anything until they actually do something but by then..." "Its okay, Patricia," he said soothingly as he wrapped his arms around her as she began to cry in earnest. It felt good to have strong arms wrapped around her and the years of frustration, desperation and helplessness flowed out with the tears soaking into his shirt as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "There, there," he whispered as he gently stroked her hair. "It'll be all right, I promise." She clung to him desperately and he winced as her nails dug into the skin under the fabric. Finally she cried herself out and he released her immediately as she gently pushed herself back. "I'm sorry," she sniffed. "I feel like such a fool." "Crying doesn't make you a fool," he said gently. "Sometimes holding it in does." "But I got your shirt all wet," she sniffed again straightening his collar. "It such a girly thing to do." "Well, you are a girl," he laughed. "I wouldn't worry about it. I dry out just fine. Now do you have the names and which apartments these brave boys happen to live in?" "But there are four of them," she stammered with concern. "You shouldn't confront them. I'm afraid of what they would do to..." you, is what she almost said. All of a sudden she didn't want to think about Bradley confronting those thugs; she didn't want him hurt. "Won't be me," he sighed as if with regret. "The captain doesn't want us field reps getting involved in things like this. But don't worry. I have a feeling I know who he'll send and believe me after they're done explaining the facts of life you won't have any more problems. But if you do, call me immediately. Anytime. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Will I see these gentlemen?" she asked. "How will I know them if I do." "If they're the ones I'm thinking about you'll know them," he grinned. "Just think big: really, really big." "Okay," she said in a small voice. "You all right now?" She nodded again. "Then I'll be going. You have some things to put away unless you need help with that." She shook her head. "That reminds me," he said as he turned back after taking a step towards the door. "You thought I was someone else when you answered the door. Do you mind if I ask who?" She told him about the bill collectors and how they had been hounding her. "I don't know what to do," she said in exasperation. "I owe the money and I want to pay but I can't. I don't have it." "Get me a list of who you owe, how much and for what," he said. He didn't tell her that with a word or two to the right person back at the office he could have the information, probably quicker than she could write it down. "We'll talk to them about a repayment schedule and get the vultures off your back." "I've tried that," she said frustrated. "They wouldn't even talk to me." "They'll talk to us," he said casually. "Let me take care of it. That's what I'm here for. "And Patricia," he said reaching out to gently grasp her shoulders, "you're not alone anymore. It took us awhile to get our shi- act together and wake up but we're here now and we're not going to go away. If you need us — me — for anything, call." As she closed the door it suddenly felt like the crushing weight she'd been carrying on her shoulders for over eight years was gone and she skipped back to the kitchen table to dig into her magical box like a child on Christmas morning. ------- - Daniel- "It's moving along much more smoothly than I had thought it would," Carla Medford admitted with a stylishly raised eyebrow as she looked over at me. "I wish it were so easy everywhere." "We got lucky if you want to blame it on anything," I said with a shrug. "We have a lot of good people here who were just waiting for something or someone to give them a little direction. They want to help but haven't known how until now. We also have a higher number of vets around here, which makes it easier to find the few we can use. Some of you don't have that advantage." "Partly true," Bill Maker nodded as he peered over his steepled fingers. "But let's be honest: Carla and I haven't been able to make the same progress as the three of you and I think we all know why." "And why is that, Col. Maker?" Medford asked coolly as she took a drag on her cigarette. "We don't run in the same circles as the others, Carla dear," he answered sweetly with a slight grin. "To put it bluntly we associate with the upper levels of society and don't have the same connections that Daniel, Shara or Jim have." "You make me sound like a snob," Medford answered with a frown. "Carla," he said patiently, "if we lie to ourselves this is doomed to failure and you know that as well as I do. I understand this isn't combat," he paused and then chuckled, "although I see some of Daniel's people have been into a bit of the roughhousing here and there. But even though it's not combat and failure doesn't automatically mean death it's still not something we want to happen." "Let's be realistic," he continued spreading his hand almost pleadingly. "Where do you and I spend our time? At the club, the downtown restaurants, vacations in Europe. It's the lifestyle we enjoy and I don't apologize for that; but where would you and I meet and get to know the sergeants, the seamen, the privates, the ones who are really the ground forces in this campaign? "Take this Bradley Miller, for example," he said picking one report out of a stack of similar ones. "Corporal, U.S. Army Ranger; three years combat experience and in less than three weeks already doing one hell of a job as one of Mayhem's field reps. Would you be able to find a Bradley Miller in Sarasota? I haven't been able to in St. Pete. Mayhem found and recruited him in two days. Ask yourself why. Why? You know why. It's because he lives here," he spread his arms as if to encompass the whole of Bennie's. "He lives among them every day. If he didn't know Mr. Miller already he knew someone who did or someone who knew someone who did. We don't have the same contacts. "Don't bite off the head of the messenger, Carla," Maker grinned. "The contacts we have, the people we know will be important and I'll get to that in a moment; but for this particular aspect of the battle they are useless." "There is some truth to what you say," she frowned and stubbed out her smoke in the butt-kit. "You know it's true," he nodded. "You and I have always been on the back end of the fighting: the planning, logistics, and intelligence. We worked at putting the people who could get the job done in the places they needed to be and then letting them do what they do best." I happen to know his soothing platitudes weren't exactly accurate. He'd been a divisional commander and while I don't doubt he never spent a whole lot of time in the trenches so to speak I do know he was intimately involved in repulsing an attack on his HQ by Saudi jihadists that left him wounded three times. The engagement report indicated he was a pretty fair shot with a standard rifle despite what his slightly pudgy frame might lead you to believe. "So what do you recommend?" she relented with a sigh. "Ask for help, of course," he said leaning back in his chair. "Jim and Shara have been doing a pretty fair job organizing the people in their area but Daniel's looks more like an army everyday. Maybe he has a couple of wily senior non-coms who would agree to assist us." "Do you?" Medford asked looking at me. "I don't know," I answered with another shrug. "I'll ask around and see if there is. Could be you have the people right there in your own towns and don't even know it. Maybe Top will know if somebody meeting your requirements lives around where you do. If he does I'll leave it up to you to recruit them unless you think one of us talking to them might help. If not I'll see if there's anyone who would be willing to slide on over your way for a month or two." "Jolly good," Maker thumped the table and grinned. "Just make sure they know we will make it worth their while if they do. No living in Sarasota or St. Pete on a pensioner's salary. I think we can consider this as closed for now." "Bill, you mentioned that yours and Carla's contacts will be important in the future. Do you mind telling us what you mean by that?" Jim Preston asked. "Not at all, not at all," he said sitting upright and leaning on the table with arms folded. "Are any of you familiar with the Irish Republican Army and their battle to drive England out of Northern Ireland late last century?" "Wasn't Northern Ireland amalgamated into the whole of Ireland back in the 20's?" Shara asked with a puzzled expression. "Weren't they some sort of terrorist group?" "A terrorist is just a partisan for the losing side," Maker chided. "But as it turned out it didn't matter whether they were terrorists or freedom fighters, since the return of Northern Ireland to Ireland had nothing to do with them. I use them as an example only because of the organization they employed. One part was distinctly military and were the ones directly attacking the British and Protestant forces. Additionally there was the Sinn Fein, their political arm. Sinn Fein was the visible and legal part of the organization using politics to accomplish what the military couldn't. What we need is a Sinn Fein. "I know politics is a dirty word," he continued holding up his hands to quell our protests. "But again we must be honest. To do what we want to do we have to start injecting ourselves into the political process. "Jim's idea to use war surplus supplies was brilliant and for the pennies we've been able to put towards it your clients have reaped a tremendous benefit. But we all know that won't last forever. Sooner or later the surplus will be gone or somebody else will start bidding against us and the prices will rise. And while those of us with a little means have been able to spare a bit, we all know that won't last either. There are just too many in need. It's going to take the resources of the U.S. Government and to direct those resources in the direction we desire we need leverage, political leverage." "So you want to start a political party," I said. I wanted to spit to get the bad taste out of my mouth, maybe rinse it out with some dog shit or something. Just about anything would taste better than the "P" word. "Quite," he nodded. "A new political party not associated with either of the existing parties." I didn't have a problem with that; I couldn't stand either the Peace Party or the Democratic-Republicans. "By remaining independent we will be able to leverage our numbers which may seem large to us; there are some ten million veterans and at least another twenty or so million dependents and survivors, but in political terms they're actually quite small — definitely a minority." "And you have a front man in mind for this party?" I asked. "Front woman actually," he smiled subtly. "I submit that our good general here is perfect for the task. She is extremely handsome, well spoken, cultured, well connected and of course a veteran of high rank. I might add she is also wickedly intelligent and utterly ruthless when it comes to the battle of the knives." I was intimately familiar with knife fighting but that wasn't what he was talking about. You would think that in the middle of a war where millions of people were dying, quite a few of them your own, that the constant backstabbing, bickering and inter-service rivalries would be put on hold at least until there was a decent idea that the country you were supposedly fighting for would survive. Yeah right! Fat fucking chance. If anything it was even more intense as more and more resources were diverted from the civilian economy towards the war effort. These weren't the type of fights where someone sticks a knife in your belly and rips up; no, nothing that civilized. These were the types of down and dirty brawls where you nick the opponent just enough to make them bleed and then you do it again. And again and again, about a thousand times until these is little more than a pile of bloody hamburger. Of course it's not done with real knives; that's just a metaphor. No, it's done with the sharpest weapon of all: words. "General Bennington looks a bit drawn today. I wonder if the news of that mess in Khartoum shook him? A whole battalion wiped out! Well, I'm sure he'll recover nicely; he always does after one of these disasters." "I hear they hit the Airlift Command depot again last night. It'd be nice don't you think if they could find someone who could protect these assets. I know, I know, Walter is doing the best he can and God knows I wouldn't want that job. But still..." A little bit here, another nibble there constant and relentless, it's like being eaten by ants, one tiny chunk at a time. I suppose it's a damn good thing I didn't have to get involved in it at that level; I'd have probably have pulled out a gun and shot one or two of them. I doubt they would have appreciated my direct and unassuming manner though; I heard they get upset when someone played the game but ignored their rules. I once heard from a reliable intelligence source — yes I can actually use those words in the same sentence without gagging —that the bickering and non-cooperation got so bad at times that up to twenty-five percent of our casualties could be attributed to it from the misdirection of resources, withholding of vital information and outright deception. Twenty-five percent seems a bit high to me but I do know there were one hell of a lot of wasted lives because these slimy bastards played their stupid games just to see who could get one more star before the other one did. God, I hate them! If I could ever find out who did that and if they did it on purpose I'd seriously think about letting Mike have a little target practice; consider it a retroactive abortion. But Col. Maker had a good point. Carla retired as a Lt. General and that's just about as high up as you can get. To get that far and survive you had to have played the game of knives pretty well. In the political waters she would be just another shark whereas someone like me would be chum. "You flatter me," she said as she lit another cigarette. "What about someone like the captain here?" Billings interjected. I think I came as close to killing someone as I had in years and I let my look at her make that perfectly clear. She smiled back at me and continued, "As you pointed out earlier he's well known by the vets and respected. He'd be like a magnet drawing them in around him." I would? "Which is why he should be down there in the trenches with them," Maker pressed. "It's true the combat vets like you, Daniel, or at least are in awe of you which for our purposes means the same thing. You work well organizing them and we're going to need that for some time in the future." "Besides," he leaned back and smirked, "the thought of Captain Daniel Mayhem roaming free in a political cocktail party boggles the mind. The carnage alone would be entertaining but hardly productive." "It would be amusing to bring him to one once in a while though," Medford said drolly. "If for no other reason than to see who defecates in their designer suits." "So I'm the barbarian brought in to scare the civilized folk into line?" I chuckled. "Weapons are often used in that manner, Captain," she said with a smile. For some reason that smile didn't comfort me much. "Knowing your opponent is armed always changes the rules of engagement." "Sure, until someone figures out you're bluffing," Jim added. "Captain, how often do you bluff?" Carla asked looking straight at me. "Never, if I can help it." "Neither do I," was all she said. "I'm not arguing against what you're saying," Billings mused. "Just thinking out loud. I agree Carla would be a good front face for the organization. You're smart, sophisticated and being beautiful never hurts but is it something you're willing to do?" "At the risk of sounding conceited I have pretty much come to the same conclusion the colonel has. Of the five of us I probably have the most experience in this type of war." She paused for a moment, leaned back and smiled, this time it was a real smile. "Besides, getting back into the game sounds like fun." I have to admit I shivered a little when she said that. Then she frowned, "Of course I'd probably have to quit smoking again. Can't do that in front of the vid cameras. I hope you know how much of a sacrifice this will be." "I don't know how much help someone like me will be working on that political shit," I admitted. "About as much help as I've been organizing the troops in the field," she answered. "Each of us has our own area of expertise; let's focus on them. The colonel and I will work on the political aspects and the three of you develop a base from which we can work. We'll keep you informed as we progress just as you will with how you are doing. "Is it agreed we shall begin the groundwork for our own, independent political party?" There were nods all around the table. "Fine. Unless there is anything else to discuss I propose we adjourn until next week. Besides I think I've actually heard that girl over there sing before and I liked her." ------- "Daniel, you have an incoming vid-call from Miss Antigua," Sara announced breaking my thoughtful repose. Okay, I was sitting on the deck of the Katherine swilling scotch and smoking a cigarette and feeling quite pleased with myself for dodging another bullet. Politicians! Shit, just the thought of rubbing elbows with those dirtbags made my skin feel slimy! "Go ahead and put her through," I answered and about a second later a half-meter hologram of the little blond munchkin appeared on the table in front of me, right between my feet. "Hey, Captain Chaos, how they hanging?" she laughed. "No lower than usual, Tink. How's the tour going?" "Work, work, work," she shook her head and pouted. "I swear if they didn't keep shoving these obscene amounts of money at me I'd give up this crap and settle down like Natalie did. Well it's good to hear the boys are recovering from your little jaunt down south. What, no pretty little senorita show up yet with a bundle of joy to share with you?" "It's only been a month since I got back, you monster," I said blowing smoke at her hologram. "Besides a gentleman doesn't discuss such things with a lady." "So? What's that got to do with me?" she said cheekily. "Besides I heard all about it already. Pretty impressive, to hear it told. Mike said she even has the recordings and while she did mention her loyalty couldn't be bought I'm thinking a short term lease wouldn't be out of the question." "You've been talking to Mike?" Nothing good could come of that, I was sure; although it did explain her deteriorating vocabulary. Just the thought of those two conspiring together sent a chill up my spine. You know, like when you just know there's an ambush waiting up ahead for you. "Oh sure, we talk all the time," Tink said casually. "She hasn't mentioned it? Must have slipped her mind." "You haven't mentioned it before now either," I reminded her. "Well there you go, slipped my mind too." Yeah right. I was definitely going to have a talk with Mike about this. Most of my trip was a fuzzy blur and if I didn't remember what went on I certainly didn't want anyone else to be able to remember it. "So to what do I owe the honor of this call?" I asked. "You just looking for sympathy? Poor little overworked superstar. Waited on hand and foot, treated like a goddess, huge throngs of adoring fans genuflecting at your every move and then on top of that forced to sing for a whole hour each night. My God, I don't know how you stand it!" "It's an hour and a half a night, asshole," she said with a grin. "Oops, sorry, Captain Asshole." "You're not too big to be spanked, jailbait," I warned. "Oh, kinky," her grin getting even bigger. "Will you use a whip or your bare hand? I'm kold with either. I'm in need of a father figure to instill some discipline." Suddenly she realized what she said and her grin disappeared like a snowball in a blast furnace. "Oh God, Danny! I'm so stupid! I'm sorry I didn't mean..." She actually looked like she was going to cry. "Its okay, Tink," I said without having to force a smile overly much. "Don't sweat it, I'm over it. It's all good." "Are you sure?" she peered intently like the hologram of me at her end was going to reveal some hidden truth. "Pretty much," I answered truthfully. "I try not to think about it but when I do I only get mildly annoyed and not royally pissed off like I used to. Just takes time, that's all." "That makes one of us," she snorted. "I still get fucking pissed off." "Language," I reminded her. "What's wrong with my fucking language?" she giggled. "If I don't wash my fucking mouth, what the fuck are you going to do? Are you going to fucking spank me?" "You know, I've noticed a recurring theme in some of our conversations," I pointed out lazily. "I have a feeling if I ever did spank you you'd like it way too much and then it wouldn't be a punishment." "I'm willing to take that chance," she replied saucily then got an even more mischievous grin on her face. "Would it help make you feel better if I told you she's been an intolerable, miserable, raving bitch for the past three months? Been going through her boy-toys like condoms in a whorehouse." Two guesses where she picked up that expression. Mike and I are going to have a talk, soon. "Hmm," I leaned back, took a drink and sighed. "Unfortunately it does." Actually it did make me feel good hearing Cynthia wasn't doing so well. I wasn't proud of the feeling but it was there. And if I was going to be completely honest somewhere deep inside I hoped it was because of me. "Don't you dare feel bad!" she scolded. "It was the dumb bitch's own fault!" Her grin suddenly became something more than mischievous; it was damn near vicious. "You're still persona non grata around here though; the mere mention of your name sets her off into the most wonderful tirades." "So I'm sure you're careful never to mention it," I snorted sarcastically. "About twenty times a day," she smirked. "But the best was when I discussed some of your exploits on your little vacation with a couple of the security guys when I was sure she could overhear me. By the way you've got some serious hero worship going on around here. Did you really take four to bed at the same time? How did you all fit?" Soon, Mike, soon. "You're an evil little bitch, you know that?" I commented drily ignoring her questions. The answers were yes and not very well if you must know. "You bet I do and I'm glad you do also; makes training you much easier." I just about snorted half a glass of scotch out my nose. "But since we were talking about your vacation I have another one for you," she continued. "You were talking about it, not me," I reminded her. "And what the hell are you talking about now?" "A vacation, stupid. Come on, keep up, I'm using small words on purpose," she cocked her head and looked at me like I was somebody's retarded brother. "I've already had enough vacation thank you very much. Besides I'm busy now." "Yeah, yeah, the VBS and all that," she continued. How'd she know about the VBS? Oh yeah, Mike. I got to do something about that. "Good works and all that. I'm glad you found something to keep you out of trouble and off the streets. Although in some pathetically small sense that may be my fault. Anyway, you've been working hard and need a break. Besides, you owe me." I owe her? I owe her? I rescued her cute little ass from kidnappers even after her cheating bitch of a mother dumped me without even having the decency to tell me first. I owe her? "I owe you?" I asked utterly in shock. "I'm glad you agree," she said. "Now that we have that out of the way here's the deal: I have four tickets for the inaugural cruise of Belmont's Xanadu, I'm sure even you've heard of it." Sure I'd heard of it. Who hadn't? The war brought an end to a lot of things but few things quicker than the cruise-ship industry. Most were confiscated for use as troopships but even the ones not suitable for that were used as pickets or just cut into scrap as the war machine gobbled up steel by the billions of tonnes. Besides even if they hadn't, who wanted to be floating around on the ocean inside a beautiful target for either terrorists or Venezuelan missiles? The Xanadu had begun construction about a year after the war ended and was supposed to be the fanciest thing that ever hit the seas: a floating version of Kublai Khan's pleasure dome with the promise of being able to cater to even the most decedent. Tickets had been sold out five years ago. "That's impossible," I stated flatly. "What? That I could get tickets or that you can't go?" she frowned. "Ah, both I suppose." "And as usual you would be wrong both times," she smirked. "Do you really think I couldn't get tickets if I wanted them?" I suppose she could. She was a superstar and wasn't afraid to use it. "Okay, maybe you could," I admitted. "But I'm still too busy." "Wrong again," she grinned. "I happen to know everything is going just fine and you aren't needed all that much right now." "How the hell would you know that?" I was getting a little bit aggravated. I don't care how much she schmoozed with my team she shouldn't be getting anything like that. It's not that we're doing anything illegal or really secret but it's the principle of the thing. "Don't get your panties in a wad," she scolded. "I didn't get that from Mike." "Then who did you get it from?" "General Medford, of course," she answered with a casual flip of her blonde hair. "She's a nice lady." Nice lady? Were we talking about the same Medford? "She was very helpful when I told her I wanted to do something nice for you after you hauled my ass out of that jam. Besides being the largest donator to the VBS has to count for something." "You are?" It was my night to be stunned. "Hell yeah! You're doing good, Danny. Those people you're helping deserve it. I can't do much being stuck out on the road and all that but one thing I do have is money and that I can give. Besides, politicians can always use cash." "So she's being bought off already," I frowned. "Hey wait! I don't work for her!" "I don't think you could buy General Medford with all the money in the world and she said you would say that. She didn't give you permission to go, just that you could without interfering with the organizing efforts. She said it was up to me to convince you. Besides you owe me, remember?" "I still don't understand that," I grunted. "You will Give it time," she said with a wave of her hand. "Why are you giving me the hard sell on this?" I asked. "What is going on in that devious little mind of yours?" "It's a surprise," she grinned. "You know I don't like surprises," I warned. "I know. That's what makes it even better." "I suppose I could ask and see if anyone would be interested..." I mused. "I kind of promised Mike she could go," Tink interjected. "Stan and Top said they were too busy and didn't like ships. Sam and Natalie have other plans but Brian and Nathan said they could go." She was about the only one who ever called Weird by his given name. "Did you pack for me also?" I groused. "Haven't got the time," she said flippantly. "But I'm sure if you slipped a little of that gringo sausage to one of the senoritas on the cleaning crew she'd be glad to help." I just sighed and shook my head. Some day... "So it's settled," she said with finality. Why is it every time I get into an argument with this pint-sized dynamo I end up doing exactly whatever it was she wanted in the first place? Come to think of it, it happened just that way with Kathy, my wife, also. I'm just a sucker for a pretty girl I guess. "You'll get the tickets by messenger tomorrow. Got to go now and do the sing-sing thing. You're a doll, Danny. Luv ya. Bye." With that her image disappeared. "Sure, what could it hurt?" I said out loud to empty air. When will I learn to keep my big mouth shut? Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 4 - Daniel- Okay, I knew the Xanadu was big but until you look down at it from a few thousand meters you can't really know just how fucking big it really is! Sure I know the specs and you can look them up yourself if you want to: 1,450 meters in length, 524 meters wide, displaces about 180,000 tonnes and carries up to 20,000 passengers with a crew of almost 3,000. That's not a ship, it's a small floating island! We got a good look at it as we flew out to meet it on the shuttle. Of course it can't pull into port like the cruise ships of old did; it's much too big for that so there are only two ways you can get to it, either by flying like we did or taking the surface skimmers that come out from the ports along the coast as it passes by on its predetermined itinerary. We were one of the last to board on this maiden cruise since it had filled up moving down the east coast of North America. I have to admit I was kind of looking forward to it although the thought of being cooped up with 23,000 of my closest non-friends didn't thrill me overly much but I figured what the hell, if I couldn't find something to do in fifty-plus million cubic meters of ship then something was wrong with me. We had fourteen days to ramble around this hulk and find what kind of trouble we could get into and from what I'd seen in the brochure if I got to even half of it I'd be lucky. I mean there are over fifty-some bars on the barge alone not counting the four large dance venues as they called them. Crap! How many bars do you need? I know I only need one. Hell, Mike could get thrown out of three a night and still not use them up! At least the booze is included in the ticket; I'd hate to see what her tab would run if it wasn't. Actually I had a pretty good idea since I've seen the one she runs at Bennie's; I paid it off all the time. Yeah, I'm what the head-shrinks would call an enabler but I can't help myself; so sue me. We gave the appropriate ooh's and aah's as the shuttle made its circle of the X prior to setting down and even more once we passed through the boarding tube in the receiving area. Our luggage was automatically taken from the belly of the shuttle and forwarded to our assigned rooms after finishing with whatever security checks they had to do with it, so it was just us bellying up to the receiving counter to get checked in. "What do you think they're doing with our stuff?" Mike asked almost nervously. "Standard scans and sweeps, I suppose," I answered with a shrug. "Why? You afraid someone will be pawing through your panties?" Brian teased. "I'm not worried about that," Mike shot back. "I didn't bring any." "Ouch," Brian winced covering his eyes. "I didn't need that vision. My brain's going to hurt for a day now." "Lucky for you that's going to be a really small pain," Mike said punching him in the arm. "Quiet, children," I sighed. "Mike, you didn't bring any heat with you did you? You know damn well you can't and they'd be looking for it." "No, not exactly," she said trying to look completely innocent. She doesn't pull that off terribly well. "What do you mean "not exactly"," I said through gritted teeth. "Well, I might of brought a blade or two," she muttered looking everywhere except at me. "Mike," I growled. "If they throw your ass in the brig, I'm going to let you rot there till we leave." "But it's only a knife or two, Boss," she protested. "Or three or four. But it's not like they don't have knives on board here. It's not like they're going to find them anyway," she muttered under her breath. "Whatever," I sighed. "Just don't expect me to visit you in whatever bilge they chain you to." By that time it was our turn to check in which was easy enough. ID into the slot, retinal scan to confirm I was really me and a slim, almost transparent band fastened around the wrist. "What's this?" I asked of the girl behind the counter with the incredibly large and mostly visible breasts. Yes, she did have a face, I think. And eyes, but don't quote me on that; mine never got that high. "Ship's identification, sir," she answered. I doubt she even noticed where I was staring. She probably got that a thousand times a day. "All our guests must wear them. It allows you access to all guest areas on board and automatically charges your account if there are extras you want that are not included in your package." From what I could tell the only things not included in the price of the ticket were bed companions or excursions ashore; neither of which I was particularly interested in. Bed companion because while I have nothing against pros — I'm sure they're very good at what they do — I've always figured if I can't entice a lady to want to spend some time in my bed the old-fashioned way — and no, I'm not talking about a club to the head and dragging her back to my cave by the hair — then I don't deserve it. As far as the excursions go I'd been to most of the islands we were going to pass by and it wasn't as a tourist. There weren't many pleasant memories in those places for me. Yeah, maybe someday I'll go back if for no other reason than to see what they looked like not torn to shit and maybe to put a few ghosts to bed finally, but not yet. Amazingly enough alarms didn't start screaming nor did the local cops drop by to sweep Mike off her feet and personally escort her to a special room with plastisteel bars and toilets with no seats. I'm not sure what that says about their security although maybe they don't consider edged implements to be weapons worthy of notice which speaks not only to their security but also their intelligence. But at least that wasn't my freaking problem; all I had to look forward to was two weeks of fun, fun, fun on the world's newest playground. ------- -The Rainbow Coalition- The man walked quickly down the corridor casting furtive glances over his shoulder now and then. Even thought it was the cheapest berthing on the ship — the Belmont Line described it as Economy Class — it was still brightly lit and well appointed. The cabins were on the interior with no true exterior windows and on the lower decks which explained the slightly reduced fares. Satisfied he wasn't being followed, he doubled back slightly and pressed the announcer on the door jamb. Seconds later he received an answer to his call. "Who is it?" came a gravely voice from the nearly invisible speaker. "Jim, it's me, Bill," the man at the door answered in hushed tones. There was no reply except a soft click from the door so he pressed down the handle and pushed his way in. "What do you want, Mr. Brown?" the only other occupant of the room asked as the door closed behind him. "I just wanted to let you know all of us are in our rooms, Jim." "That's 'Mr. Black', you idiot!" the man hissed and Jim shied back just a little. Mr. Black was imposing at best and intimidating any other time. Of average height, he was trim but heavily muscled with piercing blue eyes that were cold as the ice they resembled. "You're supposed to use our covers at all times! What the fuck are you doing here? We're not supposed to know each other and here you are in my stateroom! Jesus Christ, you moron, what the fuck are you trying to do? Blow the operation before it even gets started?" "N ... no, of course not, Bi ... ah, Mr. Black," Jim stammered. "I just wanted to tell you we're all here and ready to go. Don't worry; nobody followed me. I made sure of that." "Christ on a crutch, you idiot," Mr. Black said holding up his wrist displaying the ships identification band. "They don't have to follow you; this does it for them!" "Holy God," Mr. Black sighed lifting his eyes upward. "Please help me tolerate the less fortunate of your children before I have to kill them just to put them out of their misery." Lowering his eyes back down to the shaken Mr. Brown, he sighed, shook his head and continued, "Okay, it's probably not a big deal right now but for the Lord's sake, follow the plan! Fine, you're all in place, that's good. Anything else?" "I don't think so," Jim shook his head and then paused. "Oh yeah, where did we come up with these stupid names? I mean come on, Mr. Black, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blue, Mr. Green, Mr. Gray and Mr. White? They sound ridiculous." "They came from an old two-dee vid about a team of robbers taking and holding a tube train hostage for ransom," Mr. Black chuckled. "I used the names mostly as a joke." Jim was surprised; if he could have bet a New Dollar against a million he would have bet Mr. Black had no sense of humor whatsoever. "Don't worry; I doubt anybody alive today has ever seen it. It's safe enough." "Okay, if you say so," Brown shrugged. "But we ain't looking for ransom. How does that fit?" "Just go," Black said closing his eyes briefly in silent prayer. After Mr. Brown left Black sat down and mused, Maybe I should leave his dumb ass on board when we're done. That cocksucker is too stupid to live. ------- -Sumalee- Afternoons are the worst. You would think they would be the easiest and in a way you would be right. They are the slowest part of the day except for maybe mid-morning but I think the worst part about them is I know my shift has just started and now I have another twelve hours before I can kick off these damn torture devices called high heels and slip into bed for a few hours sleep or if I'm lucky a little loving before it starts all over again. I know I shouldn't complain; there must be two-hundred-thousand girls in Thailand Province alone that would kill for the chance to be where I am, but I still do, at least to myself. My story wasn't that much different from thousands of others I have heard. When I first met Daniel Mayhem, I was twenty-four which meant I had grown up during the time of Consolidation as our Chinese administrators normally referred to it or The War as most of the Westerners and the rest of the world would say. Being young and knowing no different, I could not honestly say it was a better or worse than Thailand had been under the old juntas. From what Daniel has told me about other parts of the world, the spread of the Chinese into most of Southeast Asia was relatively bloodless and quick. One day there were Thai troops watching our streets and the next day they were Chinese. For the most part we hardly noticed the difference. Of course we weren't Muslim. At least the Muslin population in Thailand had been relatively small. Estimates before the Consolidation had been between ten and fifteen percent; naturally afterwards it was effectively zero. At least we were not in Indonesia where it has been estimated almost ninety percent of the population had been "neutralized." Even now I feel like I should be feeling horror over the virtual extermination of millions maybe even billions of human beings but I cannot; the numbers are too large for me to fathom. Daniel once told me, "The death of one is a tragedy, a million a statistic and a billion is a trend." He admitted it wasn't original with him but it still rings of sad truth. To feel for the death of a loved one is human but how do you grieve for the death of billions? He just shrugs and says not to try; it is not possible and maybe he is right. I know that I cannot. I have been asked so many times what it was like the first time we met. It would be romantic to say it was love at first sight, something like, "Our eyes met and in an instant we knew our souls had found their one true match." Unfortunately, as Daniel would say, that is bullshit. Of course he tells me that it was lust at first sight and I am willing to allow him this fleeting brush with honesty. I never considered myself unattractive and yet if he felt an overwhelming feeling of lust towards me that first day he certainly controlled it extremely well! The romantic stories and silly historical-drama vids aside, our first meeting was remarkably unremarkable. For the most part he strolled into the lounge where I was working, sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch. I will admit he was an attractive man: not overly tall, close cropped hair and a ready smile, but certainly not vid-star handsome. Just another man. "Hi there," he said pleasantly. "I'll have a scotch, straight up." "Any particular brand?" I asked. "Just whatever you have as bar scotch," he replied. "Unless it's the real good stuff I can't tell the difference and even then only for the first couple of sips. Besides the bar scotch is free; anything else, I'd have to pay extra." "Very good, sir." It only took me a moment or two to bring him his drink. Usually I try to avoid the single male customers after I have served them; it gets trying being propositioned a hundred or so times a night and starting it this early in the shift would be nothing but a real bother. Maybe it was some of that bartender's extra-sensory perception we are supposed to develop, or maybe my doctorate in clinical psychology, but for some reason I felt he was not the kind that would do that. However I would prefer to think it was my woman's intuition. For whatever reason, I stayed near him doing those silly little things bartenders do when they are not serving. "So, Sumalee," he said looking at my ship's identification tag. Normally this would be an occasion for a man to stare at my breasts. Although I am not particularly large-chested the uniform we wear does put what little I have on prominent display. He didn't, though — stare, that is. Oh, he looked and he seemed to appreciate what he saw but he didn't stare and drool like so many others would have. "Been a long day already? Is it usually this dead in here?" "I just started my shift and yes, for the most part it is fairly quiet around this time." His eyes had returned to mine even before I had started my answer. It is difficult to say what it was I was really feeling at that time. I don't care who she is, a woman enjoys being appreciated as a woman. I have talked to professional prostitutes and they tell me the same thing. Even one who is paid to have sex with a man still enjoys being treated as a woman and not just the vehicle for what is really just assisted masturbation. He looked at me and enjoyed what he saw even though it was obvious he had no intention of doing anything more than just visually appreciating me. It was nice and unusual and yes, I enjoyed the attention without the pressure of having to fend him off. He must have been there for about half an hour and even though there were one or two other customers during that time I always seemed to gravitate back to his seat. I would like to say I remember everything we had talked about that first time but in all honesty I cannot. The conversation flitted from one topic to another almost randomly: the ship, my job, my family and my education. Come to think about it now, it seemed like we talked mostly about me. That he was a veteran of The War came up but only in passing as was the fact he was here because a friend asked him. It wasn't until after he had left that I came to realize he had been thoroughly, skillfully and quite unintentionally seducing me. Yes it was unintentional, I truly believe, and he swears to this day he was not, whether it was intentional or unintentional. The fact remains he was seducing me and of even greater surprise was the fact I neither resented nor desired to actively oppose it! Surprising in two ways: I consider myself to be thoroughly bi-sexual; that is I enjoy sex with either women or men although I admit I tend to prefer women more than men. I am a bit aggressive sexually and this has a tendency to result in conflicting personalities with men who are also for the most part sexually aggressive. I enjoy women's soft bodies and revel in their submissiveness and complete surrender when I finally complete my conquest. I have never felt completely comfortable in the same way when I have been with a man. It was my nature, or so I thought. Secondly, I would never have contemplated getting seriously involved with one of the passengers. There was no hard and fast ship's policy against it but there were professionals retained as crew to do that if the passenger wished. For one of the regular crew to have liaison with a passenger even for non-monetary reasons was frowned upon. It was tactfully viewed as the purview of the professionals, especially since a portion of their compensation was returned to the ship. Even if it were not frowned upon, I have never had a desire for short term dalliances. I do not do one-night stands as the NoAm's would say. My roommate/lover at the time and I had been together for the six months we had been in training during the work-up for this opening and even though there was little more emotional involvement than just friendship, it was the least I was willing to do. I may be varied in my sexual appetites but I am not promiscuous. All of which astounded me upon reflection as to why this man, a fairly unremarkable man among thousands, with very little effort could have had me on my back and playing sheet music as he so crudely puts it. Looking back, maybe that first meeting was more memorable than I had first thought. ------- -Daniel- After checking in we found our way up to our cabins which were all grouped together on one of the top decks. The cabin or "suite" as I found out later was huge! At least it seemed so to me. You could have easily bunked my entire team in there without even rubbing elbows. But as big as the main room was the bed was even bigger. Okay, not really but it sure seemed to be. I swear it was big enough to sleep five unfriendly people without having to worry about touching each other. What in the hell did anyone need with a bed that big? Anyway it only took me a few minutes to stow the few things I'd brought with me and I went to find out what everybody else was up to. Weird was the only one left and he was taking the virtual tour of the engineering spaces. Well he is Weird. I didn't ask but I'd be willing to bet the program he was watching wasn't the glossy pabulum designed for the average passenger, not with the schematics and technical info I could see on the holo-tank. I briefly considered if I should worry about him hacking the ship's system that quickly but shrugged it off. The chances they would catch him were so remote as to be essentially nonexistent; let him have his fun. I figured I should probably be more worried about Mike out roaming unfettered but gave that up as a lost cause almost immediately. Starting that would lead to two weeks of constant aggravation and besides if she got into trouble and they threw her in the brig at least I'd know where she was. So I took off to do a little exploring of my own and wouldn't you know one of the first things I found was a bar. I figured I was already four or five drinks behind Mike by now so a little catching up might be in order. The place was dead with just a couple of other people in there. I think the servers outnumbered the patrons so I decided not to bother them and bellied up to the bar and plopped my butt down. The bartender was a pretty little thing: Oriental for sure, but maybe of mixed race. She had shiny black hair pulled back in a ponytail and two of the biggest, black eyes I have ever seen, the kind of eyes that you can't actually see where the iris and the pupil separate they were so dark, just huge pools of black ink surrounded by white. I ordered a scotch and glanced down at her nametag. Sumalee was her name and below that was her country of origin, Thailand Province, Greater China. She was a tiny little thing; I doubt she'd even come up to my chin but she was definitely well proportioned, I can tell you that! Her uniform left no doubt she was female although compared to the servers she was almost overdressed. Their uniforms, or costumes more accurately, brought two words to mind: dental floss. Okay, they brought a lot more to mind than just those two words but other than saying they were eye candy we'll just leave it at that. Besides I had all the eye candy I needed right there at the bar. Sumalee — Sumalee Nakpradith, to be exact — was more than enough to hold any red-blooded male's attention and she was right there in front of me pouring hooch. What more could you ask for? I know all the ship's crew were trained to be nice to the paying chumps, er, passengers, but I didn't care. I enjoyed talking to her and she didn't seem to mind this big lug drooling over her. I'm sure she got it about a million times a day, anyway. What the hell, I wasn't looking for a bed partner although I have to admit I sure wouldn't have kicked her out for any reason I could think of. Maybe if she turned out to be a psycho killer bent on castrating every male she could — but then again maybe not. Everybody has these little personality quirks, you just learn to live with them. Turns out she was as interesting as she was pretty. I hadn't met a lot of people from the Chinese Empire so she was something entirely new to me. I know, I know, they still call it the Democratic People's Republic of Greater China but a rose by any other name ... Anyway I found it, and her, fascinating. Turns out she had a doctorate in clinical psychology from the University of Bangkok which isn't too shabby even before you consider she got it at the age of twenty-one. Pretty smart little fortune cookie there; one hell of a lot smarter than me, that's for sure. Of course it has been noted many times most multi-celled organisms qualify for that so using me as a benchmark only proves you have low standards. So I flirted a little, no big deal, right? Like I said, it wasn't like I was looking for a bed buddy and I like talking to pretty girls even if it was their job to be nice to me. I mean what the hell, the chances of an old fart like me talking a pretty young thing like her out of her panties is about a million to one so it was all for giggles anyway. I was on this cruise to have fun and as far as I was concerned this was about as much fun as anything else on this tub. That's not to say the Xanadu wasn't the slickest thing on the water, a regular floating UniDiz, but I'm not much of one for amusement parks, never could tolerate standing in lines and I've had enough thrill rides to last me a number of lifetimes. Anyway I wasn't there all that long until Brian and Mike showed up saying they were heading out to scrounge up some chow so I decided to head out with them. It was starting to pick up in there anyway and my pretty little bartender didn't have time to mess with me so it seemed like as good a time as any to pull up stakes and haul ass. I thought it might be a good idea to drop by the next day about the same time; she sure was pretty. ------- -Mr. Black- "Are you sure this is secure?" Mr. Black sub-vocalized into the throat mic as he sat back in the chair in his stateroom. The virtual net interface covering his eyes looked like an old fashioned sleep mask but from his point of view it was like he was sitting down in some nondescript conference room in just about any office building in the world. "Thrice encrypted and hidden in the signal of some stupid game. The best we can do, Lord willing," the man in the impeccable suit sitting across the nonexistent table chuckled. "We did the same over in the sandbox and those stupid fucking ragheads never did catch on. Believe me, if I didn't think it was secure I never would have agreed to this meeting. Now, what's the problem? Didn't the chemicals arrive on time? The other equipment?" "No, all that's fine," Black said waving his hand which was mirrored in the virtual room. "It all came in and has been stashed away. No, the problem is I have a bad feeling about a couple of the men you sent along on this. I know the accident prevented Dusty and Bart from coming but these two ... Well, that Jim character is an idiot and Delmar is ... I don't know what the hell he is. Where did you dig that piece of shit up? The son-of-a-bitch is totally out of control. What loony bin did you break him out of? He's almost got into two fights already and if he doesn't bring attention down on us, I don't know what will. Seriously, he's putting the whole operation in jeopardy. I'm afraid he's going to go whacko any minute and start shooting the place up." The man in the business suit pursed his lips and steepled his hands with the forefingers resting lightly on his lips. He didn't say anything for a moment. Finally he sighed and placed his hands palm down on the table in front of him. Black assumed where he was sitting there must be a real table. "We know those two are ... less than optimal," he said with a slight shake of his head. "But to be honest they were the best we could do on such short notice. It's not like we had a lot of choices." Black reluctantly nodded his understanding. The Brotherhood had been strong once or at least much stronger. Before and even during the war there had been a large pool of real American men available to recruit from and with the last twenty years of candy-assed, boot-licking administrations getting so soft on immigration it wasn't hard to find ones who had been shut out of a job by some foreign gook. Now it was tough just finding one that made it through the war alive, let alone one that gave a shit about some gobbledy-gook-speaking bastard squatting anywhere they wanted and taking work from honest Americans. It didn't help that as they started up their operations right after the war, some fuckers had hunted down and killed a whole cell of The Brotherhood that had been working in the southeast. At least it was assumed they were killed. The bodies were never found and nothing had ever been reported on the vids about it. All they really knew was that over the span of two months twenty-three of their best men had simply disappeared without a trace. Subsequently The Brotherhood had shut down all operations for the last six years hoping that whichever agency that ravaged their organization had lost the trail. Seemingly they had, since there had been no more incidents of unexplained disappearances. Unfortunately they hadn't been able to refill but a quarter of those positions leaving them severely shorthanded for a major operation like this. "Maybe we should have gone after some of the smaller, softer targets," Black posed. "You know the answer to that," the man sighed again. "We have just enough for this one big demonstration. The committee decided starting with smaller targets would just tip our hand before we're ready. I can't say I like it; there is too much that could go wrong, but I can't say I disagree with it either." "Should we move up the timetable?" Black asked. "Less chance for discovery that way." "No," the man said after pausing thoughtfully for a moment. "It will take you almost as much time to mix the chemicals and create the explosives, let alone getting them set. You couldn't possibly gain more that a few hours in any event. The plan was for you to start putting it together tomorrow night. I suppose if you started tonight it wouldn't hurt. But you have to remember if you leave too early there won't be anybody there to pick you up. So unless you want to sit out there in the middle of nowhere for a couple of days, you have to follow the plan." "Can't the pickup be changed?" Black grumbled. "You already know that would be impossible," the man frowned. "If Mr. Blue becomes too much of a problem, kill him and dump him over the side. Just make sure you have enough men to do the job." "Right. Well, I suppose there's not much else to do," Black grumped and then nodded. "We'll get it done one way or another." "We have full confidence in you, Bill," the man answered. "So unless there is something else I'm signing off now. Good luck and God bless! America is depending on you." ------- -Daniel- I have to admit I took it kind of easy that first night unlike a certain ex-SpecFor sharpshooter I could mention who seems to think free drinks were a challenge to her womanhood. About 2200 she was already done for so I just walked around for an hour or so after pouring her into bed. I couldn't see even a fraction of the ship in that short amount of time but really is one bar or dance floor any different from any other? I did stick my head into Sumalee's bar for a moment but I could see it was their busy time and she was slinging hooch nonstop so I just called it a night and hit my own rack. I'm not going to whine and say I was bored already but I was beginning to think if this was all there was, I could have saved someone a shit-load of cash on the cover charge and stayed home to get drunk and chase pussy. I got up relatively early the next morning and decided a run might be in order. I was still a bit out of shape from my last "vacation" so I hauled my lazy ass out of bed and hit the track. The walking/running track circles the main deck and measures just over three klicks so I got out there and did five laps while watching pretty girls' butts bounce in front of me. Beats the hell out of staring at the south end of a north bound grunt lugging a 20-kilo pack, let me tell you. Mike would probably disagree with me on that but since she wouldn't even be conscious for several hours yet I didn't feel obligated to take her opinion into account. She may think she runs my Tube line, and I will admit it makes life easier to just agree with her and be done with it when she's sober, but when she's sleeping one off I can actually have a thought of my own. Until Tinker Bell tags in, that is. I have to admit I pondered on that for a while as I did my hamster-in-a-wheel bit and pounded around the track. While I'll admit running is good exercise it's boring as hell and it gives you some time to think. Like what the hell was going on with my little Tinker Bell? I mean friendship, sure. Why she'd want to be my friend I haven't a clue but I was willing to accept it at face value. For all of her being famous and richer than God, she probably leads a pretty sheltered and controlled life so I'm probably the vice she uses to bring a little dangerous excitement into her life. But anything more than that? I don't think so! For one, she's young enough to be my daughter and even if she's cute and sexy in a little-girl sort of way I don't get off on sixteen-year-olds even if they are twenty-one. Then of course there was that thing with her mother... So what the hell am I doing here and what was this surprise she had in store for me? Both were good questions and I didn't have a good answer for either of them. Still it gave me something to think about as I ran around like an idiot and stared at cute butts. Having failed to solve the mysteries of the universe I at least finished my fifteen klicks. Yeah, I know it should have been twenty but I am getting old. After a nice hot stint in the 'fresher I looked in on Mike and determined waking her this early would not be conducive to a long and happy life, especially if I wanted to have sex anytime during that life, so I took off by myself to find some chow. After re-stoking the coals I wandered around for a bit longer before changing into a bathing suit and lounging around poolside like a lizard in the sun. Again, the view was fabulous. Thank God the nudity taboo pendulum has swung back towards little or nothing as far as swimming is concerned and after convincing myself 1100 hours wasn't too early for a beer I sat around watching tits and ass. Yes, I was having a grand old time, thank you very much. Mike stumbled up to join me after a half-hour or so in some really dark sun shades and a big floppy pink hat that I just had to laugh at, silently of course. I'm not saying Mike is a bit out of sorts after one of her binges but when she growls at you, think of it a little like a rattlesnake shaking its tail. It ain't doing it just to hear the pretty music and neither is she. I didn't even bother to ask how she found me; I assumed she'd either asked Sara, or Weird hacked the ships system and found me by my ID bracelet. It was an even bet either way but to tell the truth I didn't give a shit which it was so I kept the extraneous jabber on hold until she was feeling a little more human. It was safer that way. "Do you want to try to get something to eat?" I ventured after about a half-hour. "Do you want me to throw up, Boss?" she snapped back. "Because if I do it's going to be right in your lap." "Won't be the first time," I shrugged. "Besides you know if you eat you'll feel better." "Maybe I'll have a drink instead," she grimaced and wriggled around to make herself comfortable. "And maybe I'll get Brian and Weird down here and I'll force feed you every greasy piece of crap I can find on the menu," I responded. "You wouldn't dare!" she said looking daggers at me over the tops of her shades. The look said you die if you try but there was something else there also; I don't know, fear maybe? Naw, I doubt Mike would ever be afraid of me; hope then? "Try me, sweet-cheeks," I said looking right back at her. "I'm getting tired of dragging around your corpse when you don't have the decency to be dead yet. If you're not going to lay off the sauce, the least you can do is take care of your body during the short periods of time you aren't actively trying to destroy it." "This is about me being too skinny, isn't it?" she demanded. "No. This is about you're being too old for this shit and knowing better and knowing you have a problem and knowing you have friends that will help you if you just ask us," I answered trying to keep my voice level. "Oh, number two," she said with a smile and leaning back in her lounger. "Number two?" "Sure, lecture number two," she said. "The pleading one. It's better than the 'Aren't you ashamed of yourself'; that's number one. But not as good as the begging 'Please let us help you, ' number three." "You know if I wasn't afraid I wouldn't get my hand back I'd turn you over my knee and spank the shit out of you," I mused. "That's number four." "Mike, you're hopeless," I sighed, leaning back myself. "I'm beginning to think Stan was right." "That would be the first time," she snorted. "What did he say about me?" "He said you needed some guy with a horse cock to keep you pinned to a bed," I said as I signaled a server. "That way you wouldn't have time to drink." "Hmm ... Worth a try, anyway," she muttered. "Got anybody in mind, Boss?" "Sorry. Not my area of expertise. But I'll let you know the next time I meet some guy whose nickname is Tripod." "I'd like two of your biggest burgers, rare, and three orders of fries," I told the server who'd answered my hail. If possible she had on even less than some of the bathers. Is it possible to have on less than naked? To be fair she was wearing high heels so I suppose she was almost overdressed in this company. "Two platters, sir?" she asked looking over at Mike. "No, just one. Just have them put it all on the same plate. Thanks," I said trying not to stare at her tits which she seemed to think was funny. "Nice tits," Mike remarked. "I didn't notice." "Sure. Hey, I thought you were going to force me to eat something? You going to make me order for myself too?" "When was the last time you ate off your own plate?" I snorted. "This way it at least saves them a dirty dish." "True," she remarked thoughtfully. ------- I walked into the lounge just a little after 1600 hours. It was pretty much dead like it was the day before and I saw Sumalee doing something behind an empty bar, probably sorting everything out from shift change. I strolled on over and sat down. She looked up and gave me a smile that made my stopping by all worthwhile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Mayhem. What can I get you?" she asked brandishing that kilowatt smile. "Oh, just the usual, Sumalee," I answered. "And I certainly think you can call me Daniel. Of should I refer to you as Miss Nakpradith?" "I am impressed," she said with raised eyebrows. "My family name isn't easy for even some Thais to pronounce. But I do not know if it would be respectful for me to address you by your given name on such short acquaintance." "Well, this is our second date," I pleaded. "I would think we could at least call each other by our first names." "Our second date?" she said with a puzzled look. "Do you always date your girlfriends while they are working?" "What can I say?" I shrugged. "I'm a cad. It's cheaper this way." "Well since it's our second date I suppose I could call you Daniel," she laughed. She had a nice laugh. Since there was nobody else sitting at the bar we picked up the conversation from the day before where we left off. Like I said before, the place was pretty much empty but there were a couple of customers one of whom happened to be sitting a few tables behind me. I could see him in the mirror behind Sumalee and he was facing the bar so I got a good look at him. Have you ever had one of those feelings when you look at someone that something about them just isn't right? I have and most of the time that feeling turns out to be dead on. I couldn't tell you what it was about him that got my Injun radar working but something did. Maybe it was the dark shades in a fairly dark bar, or maybe the overlarge windbreaker in a place where I was more than comfortable in just a short-sleeve shirt. Whatever it was it caused me to keep one eye on him while I was still talking to Sumalee which was a damned shame because she certainly deserved my full attention. Needless to say I wasn't completely surprised when trouble started. "Fucking, God-damned foreign bitch!" he screamed. "Not this shit-tasting spic piss!" "I'm sorry, sir," the server stuttered next to him. She had brown skin and dark hair, not too tall and not too short. I couldn't tell you if she was foreign or not; hell, that described half the women in America! I suppose it was a good bet she was since most of the crew were foreign-born but I couldn't tell without looking at her nametag which would have been a pleasant experience since she was rather well endowed. "As I explained before, if you wish a specific brand it will be extra." She was trembling and backing up in short mincing steps. I'd turned in my seat to get a better view and to be perfectly honest to clear a path if I needed to get over there in a hurry. He looked like one crazy son-of-a-bitch and you never knew what the crazy ones are bound to do. "I'm an American!" he screamed and his chair fell over backwards as he stood up. "And by God I'll be treated with respect! You fucking whore!" By now the server was petrified and standing like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The crazy fucker reached in under his windbreaker and without even thinking I found I was leaning over the bar and had my hand around the neck of a bottle. When his hand came out it held a gun and all I could say was, "Fuck!" Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 5 -Sumalee- I was happier than I probably should have been when Daniel walked into my lounge again the next day and sat down at the bar. I could not tell you exactly why I was happy he had returned but I was. I mean ... looking at him through unbiased eyes he is not particularly handsome, other than in an everyman, rugged sort of way. But he was nice and listened, laughed at my silly jokes and seemed to be enjoying talking to me for a reason other than just a ploy to separate me from my underwear. Of course it could not lead to anything; he was a passenger and would be gone soon and I was indentured to the ship for at least five more months. But still, it was nice. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about. Something silly about it being our second date and how I should call him by his given name or something foolish like that which led to even more foolish talk about this and that. The silly kind of talk that men and women have been having with each other since time began, the kind of talk that allows one person to get to know another person. The first hint of trouble came when some man sitting behind Daniel started screaming about something or other. I am ashamed to admit I more or less froze in place as I watched it unfold, but Daniel did not. As the man stood up and was reaching under his jacket Daniel had slid off his stool and had a bottle from behind the bar in his hand. Later he admitted it was the first thing he could reach and if he'd have known all our bottles were very light biodegradable synthetic plastic he might have looked for something else. 5 As it was the man drew out a gun and the next thing I knew the bottle was hitting him in the shoulder. It was only about half full and didn't weigh much but it did make him stumble backwards a few steps and turn towards us. I'm not sure how it happened but suddenly both Daniel and I were on the floor behind the bar with him on top of me and there were loud noises and plastic chips and splinters from the mirror flying everywhere. I never even noticed them; Daniel was on top of me, completely covering me in fact. I never felt anything. The one thing I do clearly remember was looking up into his eyes, mere centimeters away from mine. I know it sounds silly but I still cannot tell you exactly what color they are. Are they brown with green flecks or are they green with brown? Crazy I know, but I swear they change depending on his mood. I will tell you another thing that is even crazier: right at that particular instant I was not thinking about that maniac shooting up the lounge. The only thing I could think about were those eyes staring down into mine and the weight of his body on mine holding me down, protecting me. That look lasted and eternity, or a second or two, I have to admit my sense of time had completely left me. However long it lasted, it ended when Daniel suddenly glanced towards the storage shelves under the bar, muttered some obscenity under his breath and with the sweep of his arm cleared the bottom shelf of the glassware we store there. It made a terrible clatter but with all the screaming and gunfire it was hardly enough to notice. He rolled off me and sort of scooped/pushed me into the space he had cleared. Luckily I am relatively small and I fit rather handily. "Do. Not. Move," he growled at me and I could only nod. Then with a grimace or maybe it was a grin he ducked down kissed my nose and vanished! I think that shocked me as much as anything else had. I brought my hand up to my nose in wonder. Soon after he had left me, there was a horrible crash and the shooting intensified for a moment and then it suddenly stopped. Directly afterwards there was more screaming. No, not screaming, shouting, not in fear but in anger. I could hear scuffling and then a cry of pain that made me cringe and shake. What if Daniel had been hurt? I felt tears come to my eyes. "All right, folks, it's all over," I heard Daniel say in a loud but very calm voice. Scrambling out of my hideaway I tentatively peeked over the bar and saw him kneeling down beside Jeena, the server who had been attending the maniac. "It's just a scratch, honey," he said as he held her upper arm and looked at a small wound barely dribbling blood. "You have anything else wrong?" "I think I twisted my ankle falling off my heels," she muttered. "Definitely Purple Heart material there," he chuckled. What type of man was this? A man had just tried to shoot him and he was joking about a twisted ankle! Suddenly thinking about the maniac I scanned the room and saw him. He was spread out on the top of a table with something sticking out of his chest. I had no idea what it was at that time. I then did the only thing I could have done. I ran around the end of the bar and jumped into Daniel's arms crying like a baby. ------- -Daniel- "Fuck" is not what you would generally want to have chiseled on your tombstone as your last word but it wasn't the first time I've been so poetic under similar circumstances, although each time I hoped it would be the last time. I did the first thing that came to mind and heaved the bottle I'd grabbed as hard as I could right at his head. Okay, if I'd known how fucking light they made those things for the cruise ships maybe I'd have tried for something different. I was used to the real glass bottles they still made in Mexico where I usually got my booze for "import" and naturally assumed I'd be grabbing something heavy enough to do a little damage. Well fuck me! That's what you get for assuming. It was only about one-third full and hardly weighed anything at all; in fact it wasn't even heavy enough to make it all the way to his head; instead it hit him in the shoulder. At least it surprised the bastard and he moved back and turned away from the waitress. Of course he turned right towards me. Not even having my dick in my hand as a weapon and facing a shithead with what looked like a 5mm I instantly decided discretion was the better part of valor and jumped over the bar gathering Sumalee in my arms as I did and dragging us both to the floor seconds before the dumbass started spraying bullets into the mirror and paneling above us. Thank God they don't make that stuff out of real glass anymore. All he ended up doing was putting some pockmarks in the mirrors and killing a few plastic bottles. We did get a few shards of crap fall down on us but nothing really dangerous; even the ricochets ended up in the ceiling. I had twisted as we fell letting Sumalee land on top of me; she didn't even weigh enough to knock the wind out of me. I rolled over on top of her pretty quick so none of the shards would get her, (who said chivalry was dead?) but it was pretty obvious to even an idiot like me we weren't out of the woods yet. Okay, yeah, it's embarrassing but I have to admit I froze for a moment there when we were nose to nose and I was staring down into those big dark eyes. They were like big pools of ink just sucking me down right inside of her. I was also very aware of her tight little body under me too. All I could think was, Mayhem, this is one hell of a time to be popping wood! Now, I've been in combat situations for what seemed like most of my life and I can tell you that never happened before! It was ... unique. Luckily it didn't take long to get my head out of my ass or at least get the blood back to the head where it belonged. Now was not the time! The first thing I needed to do was stash Sumalee somewhere relatively safe and then take care of the asshole. Looking towards the bar I reached out and shoved some glasses and crap they had under there out of the way and tucked her in there snug as a bug in a rug. "Do. Not. Move," I whispered to her still nose to nose. Then for some reason I kissed her nose. Why? I don't know. If I'd been thinking I would have kissed her lips if I was going to do something nutty like that. Sure her nose was cute but her lips were a hell of a lot more inviting. Later on she said it was romantic but I still think it was stupid, a horrible waste of a last gesture. Anyway, having done that I proceeded to scurry towards the end of the bar and did something equally insane: attempt to take down a crazed gunman barehanded. At least I knew why I was doing that. Now we were playing a game I actually understood: kill or be killed. Nearing the end of the bar I reached up and felt for what I thought I remembered was there. It was: a heavy plate and on it a cutting knife. Not much to work with but better than Rosy Palm and nothing else. The dumbass was still trying to kill the mortally wounded mirror which was good; at least he wasn't coming around to finish us off yet. I'd like to say I was hoping he hadn't done anything to the servers but to tell the truth there wasn't anything I could do about if he had so I didn't even think about it. After retrieving my formidable weaponry, I crouched at the end of the bar. Now I will say my intention was to push over one of the pedestal tables and let the dumbass plug away at my shield until he was empty which couldn't be to awfully much longer. This wasn't one of those vids with infinite ammunition and while I hadn't been counting — I'd been distracted by other things like keeping alive — I knew he had to be almost out. A good plan, right? You know what they say about a plan and the enemy. Actually it worked out pretty much like it was supposed to. Still crouched down I used the wall to launch myself at the base of one of the tables thinking to push it over. Let me tell you those fuckers are attached to the deck and they weren't meant to be moved! Yeah it went over, barely, and my shoulder had a bruise for days. My next slight miscalculation was the amount of protection that the table would afford. Okay it worked but there were dimples in the bottom of it from where he shot at me. If it had been just a centimeter thinner a bruised shoulder would have been the least of my worries. He must have popped about five or six rounds my way before I heard the sweetest sound this side of a woman screaming out your name in ecstasy: the click of the magazine door opening on a 5mm pistol. The fucker was out and I don't care how good you are, it still takes seconds to reload, so unless he had another piece in his other hand — something I couldn't do a damn thing about — he was mine! Standing up I threw the plate at him like it was a Frisbee, you know, those little plastic saucers kids toss back and forth. He might have been reaching under his windbreaker for a reload or maybe another gun but when he saw that plate heading for him he tried to duck. Bad move! I've always said I'd rather be lucky than good and this was one of those times. I'd thrown the plate upside down — unintentionally, I assure you — and it dipped right before it got to him so as he ducked it hit him right in the forehead causing him to drop the empty gun. I'm sure it dazed him a bit but I wasn't about to give him time to shake it off. Right after I let go I was moving towards him at best speed and I may be old but I haven't slowed down that much. He still had his free hand under his windbreaker and just before I reached him he pulled out what he had been reaching for: a knife. A big fucking knife! Didn't matter, he never had a chance at all. I don't care how good he might have thought he was, but he didn't have my motivation. He didn't have time to bring it all the way out so I stabbed him in the knuckles and the knife dropped from nerveless fingers. As I was scolded later, I suppose I could have decked him and taken him alive since I'd just disarmed him. Yeah right. Before his knife even hit the floor I had fifteen centimeters of fruit chopping steel up under his sternum and tickling his heart. He was dead before he flopped back on the table. In my own defense, I have to say it was all instinct. I've never been much of one for prisoners unless that was the mission and I didn't even think about it. He was dead and I was alive, so as far as I was concerned it all turned out pretty successfully. Anyway I didn't even bother checking him out. If he lived through that the next thing I'd be doing is running like hell. One of the servers was down so I called out that everything was okay and went over to see if she was salvageable. Turns out she was all right, probably got grazed on her arm by a ricochet but had twisted her ankle trying to move back on those sexy but absurdly high heels. I jokingly told her she deserved a Purple Heart for that. About that time I figured I'd better see if Sumalee was all right and just as I straightened up I was hit by a small, soft body that wrapped her arms around my neck and legs around my waist so tight you would have thought I was the last piece of fat-free chocolate left in the world. I seriously doubt if I could have pried her off with a breaker-bar but to tell the truth I didn't even try. I just wrapped my arms around her and held on while she cried into my neck. ------- -Mike- Weird got hold of me through Sara that there had been some kind of dust-up at that bar where we'd found the boss the other night and that his name had been mentioned over the ship's security net. He said there wasn't much detail but that I'd better get my skinny ass down there. Brian was on his way and Weird would be there as soon as he hooked the security net into Sara. Don't ask me how the uber-brained twerp does it; I can't operate anything much more complicated than a bottle opener and am happier that way. It's not my fault if their security can't withstand the curiosity of some dweeb with an IQ higher than most ZIP codes and a combat AI. Anyway I have to admit I was still a bit cranky from the hangover; I don't care how much Detox you take; after a while it doesn't do any good. I was just heading out to see if I could maybe take the edge off with a small drink or two; in fact I was about halfway down to that very same bar when Weird called me. There were only two things I was thinking about: how the hell was I going to give a good kick to the head with these stupid heels on, and secondly that the boss better not have got himself hurt. Just like an officer to get himself into trouble without someone there to back him up. At least I was wearing a short skirt, which would keep the legs free to cause some damage. I got there at about the same time Brian did and the place was crawling with ship's security personnel. They were trying to keep everybody back but I could see over their shoulder into the bar. I could see the boss upright anyway so I decided I'd better go in a see just what kind of trouble he'd gotten into. Actually, it was kind of refreshing; usually it was him or one of the other guys doing it for me. Anyhow some little dipshit with a security badge tried to stop me; he even laid his had on his stunner as if to pull it. "I wouldn't do that," I said. "That handle's going to hurt." He looked at me kind of confused. "When they try to take it out of your ass," I elaborated. I left him to think about that as I pushed passed him. Brian just grinned at him as he followed me. The bar was a fucking mess. I quickly scanned the place noting the pockmarks on the mirror behind the bar, the overturned table with more love bites, the stiff spread-eagled on a table, the 5mm and vibro knife on the floor. The stiff had something sticking out of his chest that looked like the handle of a steak knife. Yeah I know what a steak knife is because unlike most pansy-ass douche-bags in our great land, we eat meat at Bennies. I recognized the Boss's handiwork right away. He never was one for finesse or style but you got to give him one thing: when he sticks it in it stays stuck. So the stiff was his doing and you had to figure the bullet holes were the stiff's. All pretty simple, actually. Why the stiff had a piece and why the boss decided he'd be better off dead were no never-mind to me. If the boss figured he needed it, that's good enough for me. I was kind of puzzled by everything else that was going on, though. Now the boss was just standing there with that silly little stupid grin he has that seems to make all the women wet their panties, but he wasn't saying a word. Shit, he didn't need to. There were three waitresses in those skimpy little costumes they almost wear giving some stuffed shirt about as much hell as I've ever been privileged to witness, even the one leaning on a table favoring her leg. And that wasn't counting the little piece of fluff attached to his side. I think I remembered she was the bartender he'd been talking to the day before but she wasn't tending bar now and I swear it would have taken a vibro knife to cut her away from him the way she was holding on. He had his arm draped over her shoulders but her arm was around his waist and if her nails weren't sinking into his skin a couple of centimeters, then I'm the Queen of Sheba. Just a poor, scared little bit of fluff. Or maybe not. The stuffed shirt said something and that little bitty thing launched herself at him with claws out looking for eyes to gouge. The boss grabbed her just in time and pulled her back hissing and spitting. About that time I was thinking I maybe needed to revise my estimate of the little wildcat. With a little training she might just end up being dangerous. I figured it was about time I found out what the hell was going on. "Yo, Boss," I said strolling up to them. "You throw a party without me?" "Some nut with a gun," he shrugged. "I stopped him and now the chief here wants to arrest me." The three Barbie clones started howling at that and advanced on the chief again. It was pretty obvious they didn't have any concealed weapons but I'm still not sure I'd have wanted them coming at me with that look in their eyes. "What's the matter?" I said. "He didn't believe you when you told him the stiff slipped and fell on the knife?" "Who the hell are you?" the meathead standing next to the chief bellowed and reached for his stunner. I swear they must hire based on bone density because it sure couldn't have been for brains. "Touch that and I'll break your arm," I said casually as I pointed at his hand. I didn't even look at him. Shit, even if I didn't want to mess up this new dress, Brian would take care of him if need be. Sure, I could take Brian nine out of ten times — well, eight out of ten anyway — but these clowns couldn't even touch him. "They're with me," the boss informed them and then turned back to me. "I was going to recommend they review the record of what happened before jumping to any conclusions. I'm sure the place is wired for vid." He had barely stopped talking when the vid screen that took up most of one wall and had been showing some beach scene hissed and suddenly the interior of the bar came into startling clarity. "How the hell..." the chief exclaimed. "Maybe your AI took my recommendation and decided it was a good idea," the boss shrugged. Yeah right. Weird can be pretty scary sometimes even after you've know him for years. "It shouldn't," the chief muttered. "But maybe..." We got to see the whole thing right there starting with the Boss schmoozing with the little China girl like he was on a pussy hunt right up to the final coup de gras. "Not bad for an old fart," Brian commented. Damn, he said it just before I had a chance to. "You get no points for style but I suppose it's the finish that counts," I had to throw in. "Thanks guys," he said dryly then turned to the chief. "You see, Chief Stratton, I really didn't have much choice." He used that same "Well what could I do?" face I'd seen him use on general staff officers when we'd been dragged to the table on some lame charges of "excessive force" or "exceeding mission parameters" bullshit. Drop a missile into a bunker and kill a couple hundred Vencoms and that's okay; do it with your team up close and personal and suddenly it's some international human rights offense or some such crap. Staff pukes ... they're all the same. "I felt I had to do something to protect the innocent personnel in the area," he continued, "which are your employees, by the way." It sure didn't take him long to get back into the grove. Yay team! Go Boss, go! "Not to mention the dangerous mental trauma this serious security breach subjected a passenger to." "Passenger? Oh, you," the chief mused. "You don't appear to be suffering much in the way of trauma." "I'm quaking on the inside," he assured the chief. "I'm trying to keep up a brave front for the ladies here." Sometimes he just cracks me up! At least I was able to keep it inside; Brian actually snorted. One point for me. "Christ, how in the hell did this happen?" the Chief suddenly seemed to deflate to about half his size. He just shook his head as he looked around the bar. "Well, one thing is for certain," he said stretching his hand out towards the Boss. "I owe you a personal apology and the heartfelt thanks of the Belmont Lines." I think the tumor attached to his side actually hissed as the chief's hand got near but the boss reached up, stroked her hair and she settled down. I can't help but remember what I was thinking right then: How nice! Everybody needs a pet. Of course there were others that may not agree but that wasn't my fucking problem. At least it looked like the boss wasn't going to end up in the brig over wasting some dickhead with a gun. I have to admit I was a bit ambivalent about that; it would have been nice seeing him from the other side of the bars for once. Ah well, maybe next time. Chief Stratton cocked his head as if he was listening to something — the sure sign of someone with a new implant — and sub-vocalized his answer. "Mr. Mayhem," he said. "The captain begs the pleasure of your company if you would. He wanted me to make sure you understood this was only a request but if you would he'd like to meet with you as soon as possible." "I'm sure he would," the boss grinned. "And yes, I'd be happy to meet with him although I think a clean shirt would be in order. Do you think I have time to drop around back at my cabin and pick one up?" "Of course," Stratton replied instantly. "Christ, I forgot to ask ... Are you all right?" "I'm fine other than a bruise or two," the Boss assured him. "But these ladies should see a doctor right away." The girl under his arm held him even tighter if that were possible and looked up at him pleadingly. "Sumalee," he said softly, "I want to make sure all of you are all right. Would you do this for me, please?" Reluctantly she nodded and finally let go of him. "I'll meet up with you later; I promise," he said. Her eyes didn't leave him even once as he left the room; I know I was watching as I followed behind. I'd hoped the boss like oriental cuisine for a steady diet because I remember thinking he wasn't going to get rid of that one anytime soon. ------- -Daniel- I followed Stratton out of the lounge over to a lift door I hadn't even noticed before, probably because it looked a lot like a blank wall. Obviously it was for crew only which was fine with me. I'm sure he didn't like the idea of someone walking through the ship with blood all over the front of his shirt. Suited me just fine. The lift was plenty big enough for the five of us; Stratton and his shadow, me and my two goons. Speaking of which... "Weird," I sub-vocalized through Sara's net. "Where are you? I'd thought you'd be here trying to horn in on the action like these other two troublemakers." "I'm in my stateroom following you," he answered immediately. "I reasoned I would be of more use keeping an eye on the situation through Olivia where I may intercede if needed." "Olivia?" "Ah, my name for the ship's AI, Captain," he said sounding almost embarrassed. "I got it from a..." "I know where you got it," I interrupted. "I saw the movie." "Christ, Boss," Mike chimed in, "is there any piece of shit flatie you haven't seen?" "One or two I'm sure," I answered. They always made fun of my preference for watching pre-holographic films but I didn't care. I still find them to be way more entertaining than the mostly soft porn that passes for feature films these days. "So does anyone know who this captain is?" I asked the ether. "Captain Jackson Stubing," Top broke in. "Retired U.S. Navy. He was a carrier skipper before the war; served as an XO on the Carter and CO of the Nixon and Bush. Looks like he was set to retire just before the war but stayed on in a staff role until the end. Haven't got much else until I dig around a bit." I suppose I shouldn't be surprised he was on the net already. Sometimes I get the feeling they just love to see me get in trouble. Mike probably tattled on me, or maybe Weird. "Captain Stubing? On a cruise ship? You've got to be kidding." "Nooo, that's who it is," Top responded slowly. "Why? You know him?" "Never heard of him," I said. There wasn't a chance in hell they would understand why I thought it was funny so I let it drop. Stubing might, but then again maybe not. The old broadcast show had been off the air over twenty years before he was born. "Don't bother, Top," Weird interjected. "I'll retrieve his data file here in a minute or two." Of course the unauthorized access of a military personnel record is impossible; if you don't believe me just ask the War Department. I figured ten minutes max. We kept up the silent chatter as I ducked into my room and found a clean shirt after throwing the dirty one in the recycle hopper. I checked my shoulder before putting it on and yeah I was going to have a nice bruise there. I also checked my right side where Sumalee had been digging her nails in. Surprisingly she hadn't broken the skin although I wasn't going to complain even if she had. There are worse things to have latch onto you than a pretty girl. "Got it, Captain," Weird informed me as we started up to where I assumed the bridge was. "Captain Jackson Stubing, USN (retired); graduated from the Naval Academy in 2007; retired in '32 with twenty-five years; recalled to active duty at the beginning of the war serving as head of planning for the amphibious warfare division until being retired for the second time in '46. He was a deep-draft sailor for most of his career and it doesn't look like he had much desire to make flag." Not too surprising. There were two basic types that wanted command of the navy's old behemoths: those who used them as stepping stone for a flag and those who just like commanding ships. It sounded like Stubing was one of the latter which made sense if he ended up as skipper of the biggest piece of floating hardware ever built. Not that it made a whole lot of difference to me but generally I preferred the sailors to the politicians. A minute or two later Stratton ushered us into a wide, airy space with vid screens covering the walls and the traditional ship's wheel sitting in the center unattended. In fact there was only one other person on the bridge except us. I scoped him out as he approached and damned if I didn't have to admit he looked like the stereotypical ship's captain you'd get from central casting. Tall and thin without being gaunt, he had a full head of brown hair slightly graying; I'm sure he did that on purpose since nobody had to have gray hair anymore. He had to be almost seventy but didn't look a day over forty-five. He scanned us himself ignoring Stratton and his sidekick and came straight at me holding his had out. "Mr. Mayhem," he said, "I don't know how I could possibly thank you enough for what you've done for us." "Ah shucks, it was nothing Cap'n," I replied. "And you can call me Dan. No really, it was something that just had to be done. Can't say I wouldn't rather have had it be someone else but it wasn't and it all turned out okay." "Very much okay," he chuckled. "Well I'm damn glad it was you in there." "Stratton," he said never looking at the Chief. "I'll bet you have no idea who you tried to arrest after saving our asses. This is Captain Daniel Mayhem, UN Special Forces. Ten years in combat and came out of it alive. You were an MP (Military Police) once; I think you understand what that means." I was more than a little surprised Stubing had even that much information on me; it wasn't exactly public knowledge. Stratton's look was priceless though; if I'd seen that expression on a baby's face I would have bet money it had just shit its diaper. If he thinks that was impressive wait till he found out the smoking hot chick who threatened to break his goon's arm was also a ten year vet; there wouldn't be enough adult diapers made to keep that white uniform from turning khaki. "Don't worry, Captain," Stubing grinned. "Your secret's still safe. I cheated and called an old friend of mine who still has access to certain, ah, sensitive information. You were a little too professional down there to be just some Joe off the streets. Damned if he didn't know who I was talking about right away. You remember a Jason Blosser? He said he worked with you on a couple of ops." "Blosser? Admiral Blosser," I exclaimed. "I thought that old fart was dead." "Funny, he said the same thing about you," Stubing said with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, after he stopped laughing he told me your rank and that you'd been SpecFor. Said to tell you to go to hell and buy you a drink on him." "Nice of him," I said dryly. "I assume he knows the booze is included in the ticket price." "I'm sure he does." "Anyway, you have the undying gratitude of the Belmont Lines, for whatever that's worth," he grimaced. "And mine which I hope is worth a hell of a lot more. I'm not divulging any secrets when I tell you trying to start up the cruise industry again is a risky business not even counting the crapload of money it took just to built the X. Bad publicity now would be a disaster. There's no way I could enforce it even if I wanted to but I'd take it as a personal favor if you'd try to be a little discreet about this incident." "What incident, Captain?" I asked innocently. "Thank you, Daniel," he sighed. "The X is a great ship and I'd hate to see her scuttled before she even had a chance. And you can just call me Jack, please." "Sure, Jack," I said. "I would like to know how that dumbass got the piece aboard, though. Not that I couldn't think of about half-a-dozen ways to do it but it sure wasn't something I expected." "Believe me," he hissed, "there is going to be a lot less sleep around here until that little question is answered." "I'm not saying your security's bad," I continued. "Anything can be breached given time and money." Stratton looked like he wanted to argue the point but what could he say given the proof was heading down to the ship's meat locker or wherever else they sent the body. Stubing nodded and said, "I'd like to think this was an isolated incident but we're increasing patrols and surveillance regardless. "Needless to say the full price of your ticket will be refunded and anything else you want on this ship is yours for the asking, no extra charges." "Just my luck," I chuckled. "The tickets were a gift from a friend; I didn't pay for them anyway." "Really?" Stubbing cocked his head slightly and his eyes focused in the air for a fraction of a second. Suddenly a small smile appeared on his lips. "Interesting, very interesting. Well, at the very least your ... patron ... will be receiving a refund, including your three companions. "On second thought," he continued after a thoughtful pause. "I'm not going to refund the tickets; I'm going to comp a new one for anytime in the future you want." "Well, what can I say except thanks," I shrugged. "If you don't mind, Daniel," Stubing then said, "I'll take my leave now and get back to pretending to run this vessel. I would like to see you at the captain's table sometime before you leave us, though, if that's possible. I'll have the AI get in touch with you and set up a time." "Certainly, Jack," I responded. "We'll get out of your hair and of course we'd love to have dinner with you. You tell us the time and we'll be there." "Fantastic! Until then, and, Daniel, thank you again." ------- -The Rainbow Coalition Minus One- "What the hell are we doing here?" Mr. Green demanded as Mr. Black slipped into the bubbling water of the hot tub. "People are going to think were a bunch of faggots!" "Good," Black replied as he surveyed the faces already in the water. Everyone except Blue had responded to his summons and was sweating in the hot water. "Nobody pays any attention to rump riders nowadays, and keep your band under the water." He demonstrated by immersing his left wrist with the ship's ID band under the gurgling surface. "If we keep it down nobody will be able to hear us over the bubbles." "I thought we weren't supposed to meet until we're just about ready to go for it," Gray asked at just above a whisper. "Change of plan," Black snorted. "Do you notice that Mr. Blue isn't with us? There is a rumor going through the ship that some nutcase sneaked a gun onboard and was killed shooting up some bar earlier. Official word is nothing happened and that there was an equipment malfunction requiring the bar to be closed. I just happened to be walking past Blue's stateroom and it was crawling with security so we have to assume the asshole did something crazy. Because of that we're going to have to go to Plan B." "Plan B?" Mr. Brown protested. "I've never heard of Plan B." "Plan B is where we have to do this assuming they know about our plans and are actively opposing them," Black answered patiently. "It means everything is moved up. We start mixing the chemicals tonight right after we leave here. The earliest time we can do it is tomorrow afternoon at around sixteen hundred hours." "That's three days early," Mr. White said slowly. "That kind of throws the timetable off a bit. What about us being picked up?" "I'm working on that," Black responded. "Worst case, we steal a shuttle and make a run for it. There are a few places I know we could go to ground for a while if needed. "There is one thing more we're going to need," he said looking around at them. "A diversion. What would you do for the Brotherhood?" he asked looking straight at Brown. "Anything!" Brown exclaimed. "Anything?" Black repeated. "Would you give your life?" "Of course I would," Brown blustered. "I'm glad to hear that," black said mildly. "Because I'm going to need for you to carry a prayer vest into one of the dining rooms at the time we're setting the charges." A "prayer vest" was an explosives-rigged vest that had been used by revolutionaries and insurgents, especially the Islamic Jihadists, for over seventy years. "At the time I tell you I want you to cause as much commotion as you can and make sure every damn security gook on board is occupied while you threaten to blow yourself up and half a dining room's worth of passengers." "Why me?" Brown protested. "Because everybody else has specific jobs that only they can do," Black responded. "I don't mean for you to actually blow yourself up," he assured the quivering man. "Just keep them occupied until the other charges blow. Once that happens I'll bet you'll be able to slip away in the confusion. Worst case, once you hear the charges blow, you can surrender; it'll be too late for them to do anything about it by then." "And I'll end up in a cell for the rest of my life," Brown grumbled. "Only until we can take over," Black assured him. "A year or two at most, then you can get a pardon and a hero's welcome back." "Well, okay," Brown agreed reluctantly. "Good," Black nodded. "Mr. Green will make up the vest for you and I'll give you the details later." He looked up at the clock on the wall, "We meet in the designated location in two hours. Any questions? Good, then let's be at it. Mr. Green, would you stay for one moment, please?" "SNAFU (Situation normal, all fucked up), eh?" Green said after the others had left. "Do we even know if they have any idea the rest of us are here? Especially if that idiot did get himself killed like everybody is saying?" "Maybe not," Black shrugged. "But we can't afford to take that chance. For all I know he may be still alive and spilling his guts right now. Not much we can do about it if that's the case; the chemicals can't set any faster than Mother Nature says they can. This way might be even better even if they don't know about us. The confusion that idiot causes will help us setting them and then getting away." "You trust that moron to actually do it?" Green snorted. "He's so scared he'd shit at his own shadow." "That's why you're going add a little extra to his vest: a remote detonator. Then you're going to escort him to the dining room on your way to set your own charges and wait outside until it's time," Black smiled. "At about two minutes after you're going to set them off remotely." "Kold," Green said cocking his head. "And if he does find his balls and make a fuss... ?" "You blow it anyway." Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 6 -Brad & Patricia- "Well there you are," Pat said happily when she opened the door. "We were wondering when you'd show up. You're a day late and we started worrying." "Sorry," Brad said looking embarrassed. "One of my other families was having a little problem and it took me longer than I expected. Hopefully you haven't run out of anything because of my screw-up." "It wasn't a screw-up if you were helping someone," Pat admonished. "We have plenty; we just worried about you is all." "Well, I appreciate that but I suppose I should have called," he replied. "You don't have to check in with me," she laughed. "I'm not your wife or your girlfriend. Would you like some coffee? And if you have a minute there is someone who would like to say something to you." "Ah, sure, coffee sounds great," he said. "But calling would be the considerate thing to do. I could only be so lucky to have a woman like you as a girlfriend but you know the captain's rules..." "Of course, we must abide by the captain's rules," she agreed and smiled as she sipped her coffee. She was wearing a short summer dress that hugged her curves and had crossed her legs but was rocking the top one up and down drawing Brad's attention and driving him to distraction. "Ah, yes, we must," he mumbled as he took a big gulp of coffee and practically spit it out as it burned his mouth. "Like I said," she continued, "somebody has something she would like to say to you if you have time." "Sure," he agreed welcoming the interruption. "Charlene, come out here please," Patricia called towards the back rooms. Pretty soon a slim young girl, obviously Patricia's daughter, came out. Although still young, Brad could see she was going to be a heartbreaker just like her mom when she grew up. "Mr. Miller is here, honey," Pat prompted. "You had something you wanted to say to him?" "Yes, Momma," Charlene nodded seriously and then she broke into one of the biggest smiles Brad had even seen and suddenly he was being smothered by the young girl doing her best to squeeze the life out of him and threatening to topple both of them out of the chair. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she gushed into his neck. "You're welcome," he chuckled as he gently pried her off his neck and held her arms so he could look up at her. "Although I'm not sure just what I'm being thanked for. I'm just doing my job." "Those men," she bubbled. "The one's downstairs. The one's that were bothering me; they're gone!" "Oh, them," Brad smiled. "Good. I'm glad they aren't bothering you anymore." "My friends said two really big men came to talk to them last week," she informed him. "I thought they might," Brad nodded. "Lisa said the assholes started shouting at them and then one of the idiots pulled a knife," Charlene continued talking so rapidly Brad could hardly keep up. "That was a mistake," Brad mused then looked sternly at the young woman. "You shouldn't use that kind of language in front of your mother," he admonished. "Or anytime, for that matter. After all you are a young lady." "Sorry, sir," she blushed and then continued. "Lisa said one of the big guys laughed, picked him up and threw him through the window!" "That would leave a mark," Brad muttered glancing over at the plastisteel window. Plastisteel can look like glass but it was virtually indestructible; the frame would have broken before the window did. "The whole thing caved in," Charlene gushed in agreement. "She said the big men pushed the other ass ... guys into the apartment and there was a lot of crashing and screaming. The next day they were gone!" "Sometimes subtlety is lost on some people," Brad said glancing over at Patricia who returned his look with an amused smile. Returning his attention to Charlene he continued, "I'm glad they won't be bothering you anymore, Charlene, and if you ever have that problem again let your mother or me know right away. Now that doesn't mean just because someone calls you a name we're going to have somebody over here to talk to them. You're getting to be an adult now and I leave it up to your judgment as to whether or not you really need help." "I know that, sir," she said standing upright trying to look as grown up as possible. "I know you do, Charlene," he chuckled. "And you don't have to call me sir. I work for a living." "Mr. Miller will do just fine," Patricia told her daughter reaching out cut off his protest by patting his hand. Realizing this was a family matter he choked back what he was going to say as she squeezed his hand in thanks. "You did very well, Charlene. You can go finish you homework now or does Mr. Miller need to talk to you about that?" "No, Momma. I'm almost finished; although if he wants I can show it to him," she added coyly. "Not now, dear," Patricia said shooing her daughter off. "I'd like to talk to Mr. Miller privately for a few minutes." "Sure, Momma," Charlene answered raising her eyebrows expectantly. "Again, thanks, Mr. Miller." With a skip and only one backwards glance she left them. "Looks like you've made a conquest there," Patricia laughed. She'd almost slipped and said "another conquest." "I didn't do anything," Brad protested. "But I'll pass along her thanks to Sam and Stan. I'm pretty sure they're the ones who came by for the little talk." "Please do that, from all of us," she said peering at him over her coffee cup as she took another sip. "And if they're in the neighborhood sometime ask them to stop by. We'd like to thank them in person." "I'll pass that along," he promised. "But neither one of them is particularly big on personal thanks. Besides, they'd probably thank you for giving them a chance to have some fun." "Be that as it may," she said waving it off, "you were the one who made it happen and don't you dare try to say you had nothing to do with it," she continued, cutting off his protest. "But what I really wanted to ask is how can I help? I mean all of us, the girls and me." "We don't need you to do anything," Brad replied uncomfortably. "I'm not really sure if we're set up yet to accept too much help, although thank you for offering." "I know that," she said. "I've been down to the VBS a couple of times already. They seem to have more help down there than they know what to do with. Maybe you need some help making deliveries to your other families? I'd like to meet them." And size up my competition, she added silently. "Well, I'd have to ask them," he said finally. "Privacy is pretty important to us, you know. Some people don't like having other people know they need help and I respect that." "Of course you do," she answered quickly. "And so should you; but if they're interested and agreeable I know I'd like to meet them. Also you can tell anybody you want anything about us you want; I trust you." "Okay, I will," he grinned. "Good. We wouldn't want it to seem like you're trying to keep all your women away from each other, now would it?" she teased. "It's nothing like that," he protested. "Shoot, I wouldn't be telling anything if I said two of them aren't widows; they're widowers. Women with families gave their lives the same as men did. I'm sorry, Patricia. I didn't mean to bring that up." "It's all right, Brad," she smiled. It's been eight years. I still miss him but I know I have to move on with my life and you've given me that chance." "The VBS is giving you that chance," he corrected gently. "But it's no more than you deserve." "Of course," she agreed still peering over her cup at him. "The VBS." ------- -Daniel- I spent the next hour or so trying to find Sumalee without success. The first place I looked was the ship's sickbay but all four girls had been there and left with the exception of the one with the twisted ankle. Naturally, the resident quack wouldn't give me shit about Sumalee's condition but luckily Jeena had no such silly compulsion to be overly ethical and told me Sumalee and the other two were fine and already released although she didn't know where she had gone. Next I tried the crew quarters but there were two problems with that: first, I didn't know where her cabin was and second, nobody was letting me in there without me causing some major damage. Since I wasn't about to bust a crew member up for doing his job and keeping me out of somewhere I wasn't suppose to be I did the next best thing and called Weird. "Weird, you think you could find out which cabin is Sumalee Nakpredith's?" I asked through Sara. "Yes, Captain," he answered tolerantly. "It's cabin N256, but have you tried to call her through the ships ID yet?" Shit, how did he guess I hadn't even thought of that? "Ah, no." Not for the first time I wondered if "sheepishly" came through over the net. "Then might I suggest you try that first?" "Mmm, I suppose that would be one idea," I answered. "Right. Mayhem, out." "Xanadu?" I tried tentatively as I raised my arm and spoke into the ID strip. "How may I help you, Mr. Mayhem?" came the immediate response. "Ah, should I call you, Xanadu or Olivia?" "I will answer to either, Mr. Mayhem," the ship answered. "Of course I am part of the ship but I will also answer to the designation Mr. Willis has given me." "Which do you prefer?" There was a slight hesitation which at AI speeds was akin to hours for us protoplasm types. "Olivia, Mr. Mayhem," came the answer at last. "Then I will call you Olivia," I said and shook my head. "But only if you will call me Dan or Daniel." "Very well, Daniel," she answered. You can say anything you want about it still being only a machine but the voice sounded pleased to me. "Of what service may I be this evening?" "I'd like to contact a crew member, Sumalee Nakpradith. Can you put me in touch with her?" "Crewmember Nakpradith is scheduled for duty presently," she answered. "It is against ships policy for crewmembers to contact passengers outside their assigned duties during their scheduled work periods. I am sorry for the inconvenience." "I'm pretty sure she's not on duty now," I pushed. "I am sorry, Daniel," came the soft reply. "The duty roster indicates she is scheduled for duty at this time and that has not been modified. May I forward a message to her for you? That would not violate ship's policy." "Ah, sure," I said. I wasn't about to argue with an AI. Okay, so I've done it a few times with Sara but that's different. "Just tell her I'd like to hear from her and make sure she's okay." "Your message will be delivered as soon as possible, Daniel," Olivia said immediately. "Will there be anything else?" "Ah, no, I don't suppose so." I guessed if Sumalee wanted to contact me she would and if she didn't then she didn't need some bozo following her around and bothering her all the time. Besides, after having time to cool down after all the excitement she may not be all that fired up about spending time with a man she had just witnessed killing another one. Not everybody has positive reactions to seeing bodies lying around on tables with knives sticking out of their chests. "Thanks." "You are welcome, Daniel, and have a pleasant evening." With that I decided to head back up to my cabin and change before I set out to hunt some grub. ------- I'm not saying I was actually feeling sorry for myself; after all I'd only met the girl twice. The first time I was only another passenger and the second ... Well, I'm not going to say it was as a cold-blooded killer; he was shooting at me after all. That should count for something. Then there was the whole thing about her being only a couple of years older than my daughter which for some reason didn't seem bother me quite as much anymore as it did just a few months ago. But maybe that's just an old man trying to convince himself he wasn't too old for the girl and not the lady being too young for him. Whatever, the fact was she would undoubtedly be much better off if she never saw me again. I think I tried to convince myself I would be better off too but I'm not good enough at lying to myself to make that sound even remotely plausible. But it is what it is, as they say, and I figured even if Mike and Brian were already off, I could at least drag Weird away from his electronic lover long enough for a bite to eat. The door sensed the proximity of my ID band and opened for me and I stepped in expecting the lights to come on automatically as normal; they didn't. It wasn't dark though. In fact there was plenty of light coming from the fifteen or twenty candles scattered around the room and standing in the center of that flickering glow was Sumalee. At least I think it was Sumalee. Either that or someone had snuck a life-sized doll into my room. She stood there still as a statue in one of the most beautiful dresses I think I have ever seen. Oyster pearl in color, it covered her from just below her shoulders and hugged every curve right down to the knees where it flared out slightly forming a fan down to her ankles. One shoulder was bare while the other had some kind of sash pinned and flowing back over and down almost to the deck. It was beaded — accented really — with what my untrained eyes could have sworn were actually tiny pearls. It was simply gorgeous. The only thing prettier than that dress was the girl inside it. Her hair was done up on the top of her head in one of those intricate hairdos only women or hairdressers seem able to accomplish leaving her neck bare except for a small string of pearls looking more like a choker than a necklace. She stood there looking at me with those huge dark eyes and just the hint of a nervous smile. "Sumalee," I finally gasped. "You're okay?" Ever the suave and sophisticated one, that's me. At least I did try to salvage the moment a little. "You look absolutely beautiful!" "Thank you," she replied softly. The smile remained but the nervousness seemed to disappear. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life today so I thought I would prepare dinner for you if that is acceptable." I'd been spending so much time staring at her I hadn't noticed there was a low table set up with two large pillows and it was covered with a multiplicity of small porcelain bowls. "Ah, that would be wonderful," I finally forced out. "But you didn't have to go to this trouble; I wanted to take you out for dinner anyway." "This is a tradition with my people," she said walking — no, gliding — slowly towards me. "But if you would rather go out..." "Absolutely not!" I exclaimed. "This is wonderful. But how could you possibly have had the time to do all this? By the way, how did you get it into my room?" "I am ship's crew," she said as she approached. "I can go anywhere I need to to service a passenger. I must admit I did not cook the meal. I can cook but I did not have the time tonight. I hope it will be satisfactory." "Sumalee," I answered truthfully, "as long as you are with me looking like this, I could be eating sand and think it's caviar." "I think we can do a little better than sand, Daniel," her smile widening slightly as she came to a stop about half a meter in front of me. She reached up and caressed the front of my shirt as if smoothing wrinkles. "But I think you will need a nice bath before dinner, do you not agree?" "Ah, sure. I'll step into the 'fresher and be right out," I gulped. The slight caress of her small, soft hand was doing nasty things to my male libido. If I didn't get into the 'fresher quick I was going to embarrass her rather pointedly. "I've taken the liberty of laying out your dinner attire, if that is acceptable," she said as she tugged on my shirt pulling and then pushing me gently towards the bathroom. "It would please me if you would wear our traditional dress." "Yeah, sure. I'll be right out." I stumbled into the bathroom doing my damnedest not to be rude and stare at her as I did. I closed the door and noticed there was a pile of neatly folded clothing on the vanity next to the sink. Rubbing my chin I felt the first hint of stubble so I dabbed on some depilatory and brushed my teeth before stepping into the 'fresher. I set it for cold since I was already much too heated up. I had no idea where this was all leading, but I have to admit I sure hoped it was going to be more than just dinner and conversation. Not that I expected it or anything; but a guy can hope, can't he? I mean if I wasn't at least thinking about it, I'd be a eunuch or something, right? Anyway, the cool mist felt good and helped calm down certain other parts of my anatomy and after the warm air drying I stepped out to see what she had left for me to wear. There was a pair of silky pajama-type trousers and an almost jacket-like shirt that didn't button but just hung open. No underwear. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt a little ridiculous. I looked like some Arabian prince from one of the old 2-D movies. I mean I guess it looked okay, maybe even good but it still looked like somebody had put a tuxedo on a pig. No matter how you dress it up, it's still a pig. But what the hell, it was her show and I didn't want to spoil it. If she saw and realized how silly I looked it was her fault; she could always ask me to change. The "no underwear" was going to be a problem, though. I could see me hunching over while I was wearing this getup. There was no way I was going to be able to hide my more base biological reaction to a beautiful woman. Again I could see no way out of it without being rude so between being embarrassed and being rude, I stuck with embarrassment. "You look magnificent," she said as I stepped out into the main room. "Ah, thanks," I answered lamely. "I don't look silly?" "You look like a prince of Siam," she said taking my hand and leading me over to the table. She had me sit cross-legged on one of the pillows and sort of folded herself onto one right next to it. I have no idea how she did it; as restrictive as that dress had to be, I was surprised she could bend at all let alone sit on that pillow with her legs folded under her. I was even more surprised when she started to feed me. "Aren't you eating with me?" I asked. "I will get something later," she answered. "This is for you now." Like I said, it was her show so I let her run it. I will admit there are much worse things than being fed by a gorgeous woman. The entire meal was stylized and ritualistic as if choreographed in some ceremony. It really was a ceremony I found out later or at least part of one but she had no intention of telling me that right then. It wasn't like it was done in silence; we did talk and laugh. She had the most captivating giggle: kind of like tiny bells or a wind chime. The meal itself was interesting. There were a lot of little dishes of things I couldn't identify, some of them tasting fantastic and others just okay. Soon I found myself filled without being stuffed and she stood up again defying gravity and reached down with her hands as if to help me up. I took her hands lightly and stood up without pulling her down on top of me, not that I didn't at least think of how nice it would be to do just that. Just that quickly I was looking down into the huge dark eyes again although she hadn't released my hands yet. "Did you enjoy your meal, Daniel?" she asked still staring directly into my eyes. "The meal was wonderful, Sumalee," I answered seriously. "But the company was even better." "Good! Then my thank-you for saving my life has been fulfilled." Okay, I have to admit I was a little disappointed, more than disappointed: devastated. "Now it is my turn to be rewarded for being a good little traditional girl," she said releasing my hands and bringing them up to her hairdo. She smiled shyly and did something with her fingers and suddenly all the beautiful black silky hair fell down over her shoulders and down her back. Still smiling her hand came down to the pin on her shoulder and again did something. This time it was her dress that unraveled and slid down her body to pool at her feet leaving her completely naked with the exception of the choker around her neck and her high heels. Stepping out of the heels she slid her hands under my shirt/jacket and pressed up against me while craning her neck to maintain eye contact. My hands automatically reached up to caress her shoulders; she shivered at my touch and her eyes opened just a little bit wider but it was obvious it wasn't from fear. "Sumalee, you don't have to do this," I whispered hoarsely. It was probably the hardest thing I ever said in my life. "I said this is my reward, Daniel," she growled. Yeah she actually growled. "Would you refuse me?" "I don't think I could ever refuse you anything," I answered truthfully. "As it should be," she grinned with a predatory smile and grasped the lapels of my shirt and slowly pulled me with her towards the bed. As we reached it she stepped up on it without looking. The bed was a low platform with a foam mattress, low enough that when she stood on it she was only slightly taller than I. Her eyes half-closed and she leaned into me. "Kiss me, Daniel," she whispered. What? You think I'm some sort of moron? Of course I did! The moment our lips touched I felt a number of things: lust was surprisingly far down the list somewhere. I've always believed the stuff about finding your soulmate was a bunch of crap. Sure, Kathy and I had been perfect for and with each other. I'd know from the day we met that she was the one for me and she told me the same thing. She'd been the other half of what I was and was until the day she died. On that day a lot of what I was died with her. Come to think of it, I suppose that's what this soulmate thing is all about; it didn't matter whether I believed in it or not. I can't say I'd felt the same way about Cynthia. In her case it was almost pure lust and I know for damned sure she never felt that way about me. With Sumalee it was like Kathy all over again. The second our lips touched I knew there was no way I was letting this one go. The romantic talk about sparks flying may be metaphorical nonsense but it's close enough to the truth so I don't feel silly using it. I have no idea how long that first kiss lasted but finally she broke it and pulled back slightly. Again she looked at me and although I never would have guessed it possible, her eyes were even bigger and darker than before. Her lips were pulled into a surprised moue. "Oh, my," she breathed heavily. Suddenly and without warning she was back on top of me trying to do her best to shove her tiny delicate tongue as far down my throat as humanly possible while her hand tore at my jacket pushing it over my shoulders and off letting it fall to the floor. The interesting thing was — okay, another interesting thing — after she'd disposed of my shirt, she wrapped her little arms around my neck and lifted her foot and proceeded to hook the waistband of my pants with her toes and then push them down. That was new to me. Needless to say she couldn't get them down all the way although once they were at about my knees they did fall all by themselves. Once they were down below where her feet could reach she gave up and wrapped both her legs around my waist. This put Little Danny in the enviable position of being pressed between us crying for attention as Sumalee's slick little pussy rubbed up and down him as she moaned into my mouth. "So big!" she groaned as she broke our kiss. "So big and hard!" For a tiny little woman Sumalee was hotter than a firebomb and about as passive as an Internal Revenue auditor. I wasn't sure exactly who was getting fucked here! "Now, Daniel, now!" she pleaded moving her head back and looking up at me again. Her eyes may have been looking at mine but I was betting she wasn't seeing anything. They had that glazed over, almost drugged, look to them. I was more than happy to oblige but I figured it was gong to be on my terms this time. Knee walking onto the bed I bent over until her back was just touching the covers. Her arms and legs were still wrapped around me so she was basically hanging on while I was on my hands and knees. She groaned and whimpered while rubbing herself on my erection even more vigorously as I rested my forehead on the bed taking our weight and gently slid my hands under her knees and lifted, pulling her legs from around my waist. "Yes, Daniel!" she ordered. "Do it now!" I chuckled evilly as I continued lifting her legs which pushed her forward on the bed and brought my face down between her lovely, brown tipped breasts. "No, Daniel," she whimpered. "Please, Daniel, in me! In me, please!" Not yet, my love, I thought as I latched onto one perfect little nub and then the other, sucking and gently biting until her head whipped back and forth on the bed as she begged and pleaded with me to fuck her. Not done with my torture yet I released her nipple and started kissing and licking my way down as she did her best to rip the little bit of hair I had out of my head in the attempt to pull me back up on top of her. She was a small woman so it wasn't long before I had my nose nestled in amongst her pubic hairs inhaling the marvelous scent of highly aroused woman. Yes, she had pubic hair which somewhat surprised me although I couldn't tell you why. It wasn't exactly a thick bush by any means; her hair was dark, sparse and silky soft. In fact it was so sparse I'd bet there was less of it than the hair on my arm. Disregarding her pleas to mount her immediately, I maliciously snaked my tongue out to taste the glistening dew from the petals of her pussy lips. I'll be damned if it wasn't like I'd shoved an electro-prod up her ass and set it on stun! The moving and flopping she'd been doing before was nothing compared to the bucking and humping the touch of my tongue initiated! If she weighed more than forty-five kilos soaking wet then paint my nails and call me Bruce but to me it sure as hell felt like I was riding a full-sized bronco! Sumalee brought her legs up and pressed against the sides of my head with her thighs hard enough I thought for a second my brains were going to squirt out my nose. Actually that turned out for the best since if I hadn't had that lovely flesh clamped tight over my ears I would surely have been deafened by the screech she made as she came. Most of it was incoherent sound, I'm sure, but there were more than a few Thai words in there although I didn't understand a single one of them. But as suddenly and violently as it started just as suddenly she went completely limp with her arms and legs falling off me and the only thing I heard was a small sigh. Shit! For a second there I'd thought I'd killed her! Abandoning my place at her vee -- I told you I was worried.-- I moved back up to where I was looking down at her face. Since I'd never seen a corpse grin and chuckle like she did I stopped worrying. "Oh, Daniel, you bastard," she cooed as her arms snaked up around my neck again. Bastard? Now at least we were in territory I was familiar with. Unexpectedly her expression got serious and she whispered, "Will you claim your woman now?" She was slowly moving her legs outside mine and hooking her heels around the backs of my thighs as if to prevent me from leaving. Yeah, like I was going anywhere! Deliberately she arched her back and brought her lips up to mine. The kiss was slow, gentle and passionate without the uncontrolled lust of our earlier one. I didn't even notice when one of her arms left my neck and she snaked her tiny hand between us to guide me into her. She gasped softly and trembled slightly when her hand first touched my cock but never hesitated to guide me to her portal. The head of my cock rested between the soft folds of her outer lips as she sighed, broke our kiss and lay back down on the bed. She looked up at me as I hesitated. "Do I have to beg, Daniel?" she asked. "I don't want to hurt you, Sumalee," I hissed, trying like hell not to just ram into her. "You could never hurt me, Daniel," she said as her eyes softened and the smile returned to her lips. "No, get in there where you belong," she commanded hunching with little jabs of her hips trying to impale herself on my pole. "You tell me if I start to hurt you and I'll stop right away," I ordered. "Of course, Daniel," she smiled again and I felt like I should be brushing feathers off her lip from the canary she'd eaten. I pushed gently and the head popped through and slid into her about five centimeters. I'd thought I'd seen her eyes get about as big and round as physically possible before, but I was wrong. "Lord Buddha!" she gasped. "You are shoving a tree trunk inside of me!" [Writer's note: I'm not that big, it's just she's that small.] At this point I paused and seriously thought about withdrawing but she was having none of that. "All of it, Daniel! I want all of it! It's mine!" she growled. Yes, there was that growling again. I didn't say anything but started to work my way in slowly using little short thrusts and withdrawals as she cooed, sighed and gurgled beneath me. I have no idea how long that took but I have to admit I was surprised when finally my balls were resting on the cheeks of her ass and the spongy head of my cock pressed lightly up against her cervix. Everything I had was inside her and it was a perfect fit! "So good," she groaned with her eyes closed. I stopped there to let her become accustomed to having me in there and to be honest because she felt so damned good all around me. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled up at me and said softly, "Make love to me, Daniel. Make love to me." And we did. Make love, that is. How I didn't cum right away I'll never know. I know for a fact I'd never been in anything that tight before in my life. It was slow and gentle with a lot of kissing and touching and she was able to have a small orgasm just before I emptied myself inside her. I just lay there on top of her, resting on my knees and elbows, for a long time until finally she pulled my face around until she could look me in the eye. "That was wonderful, Daniel," she said. "But you're not getting soft." "Oh, I'm sorry," I answered and tried to pull back. I would have made it too if her heels hadn't dug into my ass and held on like steel clamps. "You misunderstand me, Daniel," she said slowly with a mischievous grin. "You are not getting soft. We have made wonderful, beautiful love. Now you are going to fuck me!" Sometime it's the wise choice to give up the dominant role and submit to the wishes of your partner. Right then seemed like a really good time to do it. So I fucked her. The semen I had injected her with a few moments before was slowly oozing out of the pussy around my cock but there was still plenty to give us a lot more lubrication, so without further ado I began to pump full deep strokes into her making her grunt each time I banged into her cervix. "Harder, Daniel! Faster!" she kept urging me. "I am not made of glass; you cannot break me! Fuck me harder!" It turned out to be one hell of a wild monkey fuck and while she didn't break -- in fact she kept begging for it harder and faster -- I almost did. It was almost a relief when I finally emptied myself into her for the second time although this time her screaming was right next to my ear unprotected by a soft silky thigh. Didn't you ever wonder why I favor my right ear? I have to admit I was totally wiped out. In fact I simply collapsed on top of her crushing her into the mattress. It took me a moment or two to recover my senses and try to roll off to one side but she held me there telling me she loved the feel of me pinning her down. After a while even she'd had enough of that pleasure — probably something to do with breathing — and allowed me to roll over onto my back with a groan. A few minutes later she got out of bed which kind of peeved me since there was no way I was able to move even if you had put a gun to me head. It made me feel old. I did notice she wasn't all that steady on her feet and used the wall to make her way to the bathroom where I heard her pissing and then water running. She came back in with a cloth and cleaned me all the while telling me how wonderful I was and how perfect it had been. How could I stay peeved after that? When she finished cleaning me, she got up, blew out the candles and crawled into bed pulling the covers over us. She didn't snuggle into my side like I expected; instead she crawled right on top of me and laid her head on my chest. I think she was asleep about a heartbeat later. I tried to lift my hand and stroke her hair but that was the last thing I remembered. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 7 -Sumalee- It was still dark when I woke up that first night although I could see a little in the dimness from the small amount of moonlight shining in through the window. I rubbed my cheek on the warm surface I was sprawled on and smiled when I was rewarded by the scratchy roughness of Daniel's chest hairs. I hadn't moved a centimeter from where I had fallen asleep and neither had he. I was still face down on his chest as he lay on his back. He was not snoring but I could hear and feel the low rumbling of his breath as he slept. The poor dear, I had worn him out. That was only fair since he had done the same or more to me. I moved my legs tentatively and almost groaned out loud when I felt the soreness between my legs. There was no doubt about it: I had been made love to and then righteously fucked that night and it felt wonderful. Wonderful? Maybe amazing, or incredible, or ... Let us just say indescribable since even to this day I have difficulty accurately describing my emotions during those first few hours we were together. Something happened during that first kiss that I still do not understand. Daniel has told me he felt it also but how can one person really understand the feelings of another? And then when he held me down teasing me with his lips and my orgasm when he finally tasted me with just the tip of his tongue ... Let us just say I now know why the French used to call a climax "the little death." I still shiver remembering that first time. I have mentioned before that I am rather aggressive when it comes to sex. I love to dominate my female partners and even my male ones. In the past this has led to conflicts with the men I have bedded; a struggle for dominance in bed usually does. Because of that my liaisons with men had normally left me ... unsatisfied. With Daniel it is completely different. From the second he grasped my legs and spread me open I was his and we both knew it. Yes, he is incredibly strong, especially when compared to a tiny little thing like me but his physical strength was only a small part of it, admittedly an exciting part but still only a small part. Many men are physically more powerful than I am but I have never met a man as mentally dominant as he is. I had no chance to break his hold on me even if he had been using only one finger to direct my actions. He could have controlled me without touching me at all. Yet as much as this man had me in his complete control I did not feel the least bit restricted; I felt protected, cherished. I had never before understood how or why a woman could so completely submit herself to the wishes of her partner even though admittedly I have had many do so for me. I now know why the mouse freezes and awaits its fate when staring into the eyes of the cobra. I had always fancied myself the mongoose — a fighter battling those hypnotic eyes — wrestling with the snake in a game that would leave only one of us metaphorically alive. Daniel showed me that not only could I be a mouse but that I would come to crave that submissive part of me I never knew existed. From the first moment he spread my legs there was never a doubt he was the man and I was the women; he was the breeder and I the bred. He did not so much as take me as he made me want to give myself to him. And I did. I gave myself to him completely and I knew he gave just as much of himself back to me. It was confusing; I had always felt feminine and very much a woman but after that first night I was his woman and the difference was an epiphany. I was sore. He is a big man down there no matter he tries to say differently, and I was probably going to walk as bowlegged as a two-yuan Bangkok whore with the fleet in for the next few days, but I wanted more. Carefully, I moved myself down his body until my love-portal hovered above his now flaccid manhood. Doing my best not to wake him, I used just my hips to rub my wet and needy nether lips up and down his stalk. It didn't take long until I felt him grow hard against me, moaning softly in his sleep. Cautiously, I pressed myself against the head of his cock using only as much force as needed until the crown of his scepter parted my outer lips and came to rest at the opening of my very being. I had to actually restrain myself from just lunging back and impaling myself but by biting a lip to muffle my own moans, I pushed back and he began to slip inside. "You are going to kill me, woman," came a gruff whisper from above my head and I had to smile. I wondered how long it would take him to wake up. I could hear the rumblings of a chuckle as my ear pressed against his chest. "I am willing to take that chance," I replied saucily as I push up from his chest. As I rose to the vertical, my legs spread over his hips as my own hips fell down forcing him even further up inside of me until the silky head of his member was firmly lodged against the entrance of my womb. I have to admit to a little whimper here; not because it hurt to have him inside me — that felt wonderful — but it did having my legs spread apart. Daniel is a much bigger man than I am used to and I do not mean just his magnificent penis; he is broad through the shoulders and broad through the hips. To be honest, when he is between my legs he splays me open like a filleted fish. He is no narrow-hipped prima donna like you see in the popular vids; he is shaped like a real man and I would have to become accustomed to it. "Are you okay?" he asked and instantly stopped the small thrusts he was making inside of me. "I am fine, Daniel," I said but then admitted my discomfort; I had no desire to lie to him, ever. "It is my legs. You have spread me open like an oyster and my legs are not used to that yet. Do not worry; I will be fine," but as I said it I leaned down to look him in the eyes. "Unless you stop. If you do then nobody will be fine," I threatened and gave him my most furious look. "Good," he chuckled. I do not think he was particularly frightened of me. "But I have and idea. Climb off for a second," he said but continued before I could protest. "Just a second," he promised. "We're not done yet. You woke me up and now you have to pay the price." "That sounds nice," I purred and rose up letting him slide out of me. I hated the empty feeling but I trusted my Daniel; if he said we were not finished then we were not finished. I slid over to one side while he sat up. Up on his knees he reached down and picked me up like I weighed nothing and flipped me over before gently lowering me to the bed on my hands and knees. Now I knew what he intended. Being taken from behind has never been one of my favorite positions; I can not see my lover's face nor control what he is doing to me. As I have said before this had been a problem before Daniel: my need to be in control. Now, in probably the most submissive position a woman could be in I shivered and waited for my man to take me. Take me he did. Slowly. At first he only moved me into position; spreading my knees apart about a third of a meter which gave him access to me but did not stretch them apart so far that I felt uncomfortable. Next he gently pressed down on my back just below the neck forcing my face onto my folded arms. This cocked my rear-end up giving him even better access to my now flooding vagina. I felt like a cat in heat displaying herself, begging to be mounted by the tom. In fact I was the female waiting there anxiously for the male to breed her and given my personal proclivities, I was amazed at how right and wonderful it felt. It was his right to take me this way just as it was my right to demand he service me. My toes curled as I felt his muscular hairy legs come to rest outside my tiny smooth ones and I whimpered and rolled my head to one side so I could look back up at him, silently begging him to continue. He smiled down at me and brought his hands up to rest lightly on my hips in the most proprietary of fashions. He was telling me I was his and he would do with me as he pleased. My answer was to shiver, roll my face back into my arms and raised my rear up as high as I could wiggling it in an attempt to entice him to action. Laughing softly he softly slapped my ass which stopped my wiggling but couldn't stop the trembling as I waited. His little slap on my bottom had not hurt at all but it almost made me orgasm and made me wild with desire. Somewhere deep inside of me had been a submissive I had never known about. I certainly had never suspected it but somehow Daniel knew. Somehow he had known and had released that unknown part of me, the part that wanted — needed — to serve my man. I ached to have him inside me, to fill me up, to use me for his pleasure, to impregnate me. At that very moment I wanted nothing else, nothing else other than to feel his seed as he planted it inside of me, fertilizing my womb, feeling his baby grow within me. I did have an orgasm then and he had not even penetrated me yet! Of course there was no chance of pregnancy. I had the standard implant required for all of the Xanadu's female crew. It would not happen this time but the mere thought of the potential caused me to climax. He still didn't penetrate me but instead started exploring my body with his hands. First my hips and thighs, soft caresses with his large, hard hands. Hands so hard and strong and yet feather-light and gentle on my skin. I moaned as he touched and worshiped my body, the body that was now his. Up and down my thighs to the insides of my thighs where a finger lightly brushed against my mons; I tried to spread my legs wider to give his fingers even more access but his legs outside mine were immovable. I could do nothing except whimper and take this sweet torture. Returning to my hips, he then did the same with my back up to my neck and shoulders reaching under me to cup my breasts and gently roll my nipples between his thumb and fingers. That is when I climaxed for the second time and this time I was not silent. "Please, Daniel!" I whimpered. "Please!" He didn't chuckle, or gloat. He quickly moved his hands back to my bottom and using his fingers gently pried apart the tops of my thighs. I couldn't stand it any longer and reached back between my legs and grabbed hold of his cock pulling it none too gently to where I needed him. I only released it when he was firmly lodged in my opening and began to push slowly but forcefully inside me. He didn't need too much force. Yes, his is big and I am small but I had had been stretched to fit him twice before that night and I was as wet and as ready as I had even been before in my life. Every centimeter he pushed inside me caused another small orgasm. I knew I was multi-orgasmic before but never one after another. It was the most indescribably feeling I have ever felt and I never wanted it to end. It didn't really end but it did pause for a moment when his balls rested against the backs of my thighs and the spongy head of his rod bumped the rubbery hard surface of my cervix. I took this momentary break to again reach back and gently caress his testacies as they hung down: hairy, large and full of promise. It was a momentary pause only. Within seconds his hands returned to my hips with a firm grip and he began to slowly withdraw and thrust deeply each time bumping my womb's opening. I had thought the feeling of his entry had been the ultimate but I found I had been very wrong. The feeling as he took me from behind was just as indescribable but multiplied tenfold! With each stroke he sped up just the tiniest of bits. It was not a true love-making or a brutal fucking but a mixture of both. It was a man breeding his woman and her accepting him without reservation. It was not a new revelation but it reinforced the fact that I was his mate and he was my man. By the end he was pounding into me and I was screaming my pleasure for the whole ship to hear. When he finally thrust deep my body and held it there and I felt his seed fill me, I had an orgasm like I had heard about only in stories. My nerves burned, my mind whirled and waves of pure pleasure flooded me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I do not remember exactly what happened right after that. The next thing I remember we were both lying on our sides, spooned they call it, my back to his chest and still connected by his softening cock. He was stroking my hair and brushing it back from my face while whispering to me but I didn't really hear him. I drew my legs up near my chest and pushed down with my hips on his dwindling cock trying to keep it inside of me, using it to prevent the leaking of his seed and all the while praying against certain knowledge that this would be the one time the implant failed. Saying nothing, what needed to be said? I scrunched back against him as his hand dropped down to lightly cup my breast. With nothing more than a sigh I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. ------- -Daniel- The sun was streaming in the window when I woke up that morning. I know, I know: some of you over-zealous swabbies are going to say it's a porthole but that's bullshit. It's a big, fucking, window. You don't have portholes two meters by two meters and made of plastisteel. Get over it. Anyway waking up to sunshine is nice; waking up with a beautiful girl tucked under your arm doesn't even come under the same order of magnitude. I'm not sure there is a better way to wake up. Maybe with that pretty girl's lips wrapped around your dick but that wasn't going to happen that morning and truthfully I was glad. Yeah I'm getting old, but that little minx rode me hard and put me away wet. I wasn't sure anything was going to get little Danny up that morning. I moved slightly and Sumalee twisted around and moved up to where we were nose to nose. "Good morning, beautiful," I said kissing her nose. "Good morning, Daniel," she answered and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't a passionate "come fuck me now" kind of kiss but it sure had a lot more in it than "I had a great time." "I hope you're not expecting anything more from me this morning, darling, because you just about killed this old man," I chuckled. "Old man," she scoffed and leaned back so she could slap me on the chest. "Do not worry: I think you abused your toy enough last night. It may be a day or two before she is ready for that again." "I'm sorry," I apologized. But not being able to keep my big mouth shut I just had to continue, "Will there be a next time?" Her eyes softened and she actually looked a little frightened. "If you will allow me," she answered tentatively. I think her lip actually quivered. "I will be here for you whenever you want me." "I'm going to want you all the time," I said softly. Forever, I might have added but I sure didn't want to scare her away. I'm sure that's just what she needed: an old fart passenger latching on and protesting his undying love after they've known each other for only two days. A young, beautiful woman had no business with an aged geezer like me in the first place, let alone for anything more than a few nights of fun. "I will be here for as long as you want me," she sighed and melted against me. Suddenly she pulled back and hit me in the chest again, hard! "Don't you ever apologize for last night!" she scolded. "That was the most wonderful night of my life." I have to admit my head swelled just a little at that. Okay, maybe more than just a little bit but what man doesn't like to have his ego stroked like that? "What happened to my little bunny rabbit from last night?" I chuckled. "Daniel, we need to talk," she sighed. Uh-oh, that's never good, right? Actually it turned out to be better than okay. She talked about her sexual past, leaving out the gory details, thank goodness, and about how she had always been the aggressive one in bed. She was very matter-of-fact about her bi-sexuality although I did catch her peering at me intently. I assumed she was looking for any adverse reactions or signs of disgust. She wasn't going to get any from me, that's for sure. Like most red-blooded males I find the thought of two women making love highly erotic. Why? Beats the shit out of me. Maybe it's because I'm male I can understand why someone would want to have sex with a woman even it is another woman. Then again, maybe not. To be honest I really don't give a damn why. I just know it does. I do have to admit to it not being the case for male homosexuality. It's not that I'm disgusted or appalled by the thought of two men together. It's more a case of puzzled indifference. I find absolutely nothing sexy about men. In fact I sometimes wonder what in the hell women find attractive about us. It's got to be that biological imperative to procreate because if that wasn't there I don't think they'd come within five meters of us and I wouldn't blame them. So the most I can say about homosexual or bi-sexual men is that I don't understand them and like most things I don't understand, I ignore. It's not my problem or my business. It's not so much that I try to embrace and appreciate the diversity within the human sexual spectrum, it's just that I don't care. Keep your hands off kids and don't force anybody and you and I will get along just fine. Truthfully, I couldn't give a rat's ass whom you sleep with. Anyway back to Sumalee which is a much more interesting subject. When the bi-sexuality didn't seem to bother me she seemed to relax and started talking about how I touched something in her that she hadn't known she had. A part of her relished being submissive and she tried to explain what she was feeling the night before. "I am not doing this very well," she said waving her hands in frustration. "I'm sorry if I brought something out that you wanted kept secret," I apologized again. "Do you want me to hit you again?" she asked balling up her little fist. She was about as much danger to me as a water balloon. "No, no!" I exclaimed holding up my hands in surrender. "I just didn't want you to think I was doing that consciously. I mean I really liked it but I'd never want to do something you didn't want to do." "I know that, Daniel," she said rising up on her knees until we were again nose to nose. "You do to me what no man — or woman — has ever done but do not think I did not enjoy it. I did. Maybe enjoy is not the correct word. It felt right. It felt like I was suddenly whole, that I had found exactly where and what I am supposed to be. If you want me to be your lover, that is what I will be. If you want me to be your slutty little fuck toy, then that is what I will be. Whatever you want me to be I will be, Daniel." Do you remember what I said about little Danny not being able to rise to the occasion for any reason. I was wrong. She glanced down and grinned then looked back up at me. "If you tell me to lie on my back while you fuck me like a whore I will do so while coming again and again," she said solemnly. Then she sighed and grimaced, "But I hope you don't because I really am sore. I do not think I have ever had my legs spread that far apart since I did the splits in gymnastics when I was a child." "Sor..." I started but quite as soon as she started balling up her fist again. "This is a new side of me, and I do not understand it yet," Sumalee continued. "But while I do not think I can be anything except your little bunny in bed I don't feel that same need when we are not." She cocked her head and looked up at me with a hint of a smile. "I am generally a pushy bitch and I do not think that has changed much. Do you think you can tolerate a pushy bitch?" "Pushy you may be," I said reaching out enfolding her in my arms and dragging her up against my chest. "Although I sure haven't seen it. But I know for a fact you could never be a bitch." "Oh, Daniel," she sighed. "Hey Captain, you awake?" Weird broke in over Sara's net. "You got some time? We found something you really need to look at." I must have tensed up a little because Sumalee looked up at me expectantly. I shook my head slightly and placed a finger lightly on her lips. True to her last announcement she bit it softly. I had to smile. "You have impeccable timing, Weird." Like he didn't know exactly what was going on with me. If he hadn't been listening in, and probably wasn't; he wasn't the type to do that. Mike undoubtedly had and was. I had been a little distracted last night and forgot to reset the net for some privacy. Oh well. "What's going on and where do you need me?" "We'd rather just show you, Captain," he actually sounded worried. Usually it took something along the lines of global destruction or a hike in the price of AI CPUs to get him riled up. "We're down in Sick Bay. Ask Olivia or Miss Nakpradith how to get there. I'm not saying this is a crash priority but I wouldn't take too much time." "Yeah, Boss. If you're still banging the bimbo then bust your nut and haul your ass down here," Mike broke in. It takes something extraordinary to get me angry at Mike but she was about as close to tripping that wire as she had ever come. Mike and I were going to have some serious words when whatever this thing was was over. "I told you to keep your mouth shut," Top interjected. He didn't sound pleased either. It didn't take anywhere near as much to get Top heated up but then he was a whole lot less tolerant than I was. "Ah, sorry, Boss," Mike finally said. She actually did sound repentant which was unusual. "Didn't mean for it to come out that way." "You and I will discuss this later," I said coolly. The problem with sub-vocalization is it really can't convey the full range of emotion like regular speech can but I think she got my drift. "Mayhem, out." "Daniel, is there a problem?" Sumalee asked also sounding worried. "Was it something I said? You just stopped and ground your jaw. Are you angry with me?" "No, honey," I said cupping her cheeks in my hand and looking down into her eyes. "It has nothing to do with you." Almost true; at least part of the conversation had nothing to do with her. Maybe sometime I'd tell her everything but right then wasn't the time. "I have a com-link in my head from when I was in the military," I explained. "Some of my te— the people I came with can talk to me using it. My jaw moving was just me answering back." "What did they want?" she asked sounding puzzled. "They said I need to get down to Sick Bay but wouldn't tell me why," I mused. "If I had to guess I'd say it was something about that crazy idiot from yesterday, but that's only a guess." "Then you need to get cleaned up quickly and dressed," she said in a tone that brooked no backtalk. Standing up she grabbed my hand and walked off the bed dragging me behind her. When we got to the bathroom she pushed me through the door and said, "You get cleaned up and I will get your clothes ready. "Yes, ma'am!" I answered wondering if I should salute. "I told you I was a pushy bitch," she grinned. "Now get in there." There was no time to argue the point other than maybe the definition of the term bitch — or maybe pushy — but she had certainly demonstrated she could be assertive so the pushy part might come down to personal choice. There are better things to argue about. I came out minutes later and true to her word she had my clothes laid out and ready for me. She was "dressed" in one of my button-down dress shirts and standing next to the bed as if ready to help me get dressed. Just a brief aside but what is it about a woman wearing a man's shirt that is so damn sexy? I mean a bikini would show more skin. Hell, her regular uniform showed more skin! My shirt fit her like a tent even with the sleeves rolled up all the way and the tail came down over her knees but between that and the dress she had on the night before I couldn't have honestly told you which made her look more desirable. Just one of those man things, I suppose. I dressed quickly even without her help. I had been doing it for over forty years you know. "What about you, honey?" I asked when I was just about ready. "Do you need me to send anything up for you or did you bring some clothes with you?" Actually I felt stupid for even asking. "I will be fine, Daniel," she laughed straightening my collar. Do men ever have a straight collar when women aren't around? "No, I didn't bring a second set up with me. How could I be sure I could seduce you and you would let me spend the night?" "Like there was even a chance that wouldn't happen," I muttered. "You are so sweet," she said laughing again. "I will have Teresa bring me up something so I will not embarrass you by having the whole ship know you ravaged me all night by wearing my dress back to my cabin." "That wouldn't be embarrassing, that would be bragging," I chuckled then sobered up. "This Teresa, your roommate, is she ... Ah, I mean are you and ... I guess I'm asking very poorly if she'll get upset that you spent the night with me?" "Such a gentleman," she said patting my cheek. "Yes, Teresa and I have been lovers. But it has never been more than just friends sharing a bed and some fun. I have never minded her other lovers and she may be a little disappointed when I tell her we must be just friends now, but I think not much." "I have no right to ask you to give up anybody else!" I protested. "Do you want that right?" she cocked her head and peered up at me expectantly. What the hell could I say? We've know each other for less than forty-eight hours and now I should expect her to be bind herself to monogamy to a man she hardly knows? It didn't just sound crazy when you put it that way, it was crazy! So what could I tell her? Well, how about the truth? I've found throughout my life that the truth can get you in trouble and hurt feelings, but nothing like telling a lie can. The thing about lies is they always get found out — always — and nothing can be guaranteed to split apart two people like the destruction of trust. Without trust there is nothing. Take Top for example. He leads what others would call an interesting life. At the time he had four girlfriends that I knew about. Now some people may chide him for cheating on them but it's a fact he wasn't. How's that? you say. Easy. He's always been up front about the fact he had no intention of ever getting married again and he had no intention of getting tied down to one woman. Each woman who stays with him knows about the others. Hell, for all I know they all slept together but I didn't know or particularly care. If a woman stayed with him it was because she wanted to, knowing she wasn't the only one. Sure, every once in a while one decides it's not what she wanted and leaves, but generally they part as friends. Actually I know one left and then came back a little while later so I'm not sure she counts. By and large he has been with the same women for a long time and his reasoning is he never lies to any of them. It's sound reasoning and applies to one woman just like it would to multiples. "Yes," I admitted. Then I quickly continued before she could say anything, "But I have no expectation of that. It's nothing but a truthful answer." "Would you do the same for me?" she asked with raised eyebrows. Now there was a question, wasn't it? Would I also be willing to commit — and that is what it would be — to a woman I had only know for less than two days? Sure she was beautiful — okay, fucking gorgeous — smart as anyone had a right to be and we had this — I don't know — connection between us. Still I hardly knew her. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut. "Yes," I answered simply. "Then that is your answer," she said, dismissing the topic as settled. "Well, okay," I stammered. I admit I was floundering a little then. I had the impression that something monumental had just happened but just like the fickle finger of fate it had written and now moved on. "Good," she said jumping up on the bed and grabbing my shirt, the one she had just finished pressing the wrinkles out of, and pulled me into a searing kiss. More accurately she pulled herself onto me for the kiss; I had the mass and the inertia and she didn't have the leverage or the strength. Anyway I momentarily forgot why I was leaving. "Now, you go find out what your friends think is so important," she said breaking away and again smoothing my wrinkled shirt. "When will I see you?" You'll notice it was "will" and not "if," a difference that wasn't lost on even a dullard like me. Somehow, suddenly I had lost at least some of my independence and freedom. Not that I was complaining or even second guessing; a lot of people have their independence and freedom: they're called lonely. I can exist by myself, I've proven that but that didn't mean I preferred to. "I don't know," I hedged trying to avoid a promise I didn't know if I could keep. "It may just take a few minutes for all I know. I'll send you a message through the ship's AI as soon as I find out what suddenly seems so damn important." "Should I wait for you?" "Sure, if you don't mind waiting," I answered cheerfully. "If I'm not back in a half hour or so I'll send you a message telling you where and when I'll meet you. How's that?" "More than acceptable, Daniel," again stretching over to give me a peck on the lips then grinned at me. "If I have not heard from you in half an hour I will assume you are up to no good and track you down." "That'll work too," I chuckled. "Bye for now, honey." "Until later, Daniel." ------- -Mike- The Boss had a slightly bemused, vacant look on his face when he entered the small operating room they had for emergencies in the ship's sick bay. Kind of a cross between "I got really laid last night" and "What the hell hit me?" Even given what we were about to show him, it seemed like a really good time to throw myself on the mercy of the court and do a bit of groveling. "Boss," I said before anybody else could grab him. "I am really, really, really sorry for what I said earlier. I was out of line and it didn't come out like I wanted it to." "Hmm..." he grunted as his eyes narrowed. Okay, he was really mad this time but he's been there before and got over it. Maybe batting my baby blues wouldn't be enough this time but there's always groveling. Normally I'd rather cut off my trigger finger than grovel to anyone but I'll grovel to the boss if I need to. "We'll talk about that later, privately." Well, at least he wasn't going to make me debase myself in public, yet. "Now, what in the hell is so important that I had to run down here?" "Oh, good morning, Captain," he said finally noticing Captain Stubing in the room. That dumb-shit Stratton was there also but he only nodded at him. "Your team members noticed something on the autopsy vid and felt it vitally important that you also saw it," Stubing said and then frowned. "How they happened to get a hold of that particular file is something we'll have to talk about later. For now they said you had to see this." He walked over to the table and flipped back the sheet from the crazy geek from the night before. "Shit!" the Boss hissed. Actually he didn't freak anywhere near as much as I thought he would. It wasn't much as far as tattoos go; an eagle with a rose in its talons. It was a permanent tat which wasn't all that common; I mean come on, who the hell wants to permanently mark their body? It used to be tats were made by injecting dye under the skin which can be removed fairly easily. Now of course you don't inject dye, you have the individual areas of skin DNA altered. You can scrape off the skin but if you can get it to grow back the tat comes back. Thank God it takes awhile to do and costs a fortune; if it didn't I'd have my whole ass covered by the names of jerks I'd hooked up with while on a bender. I'm not real proud of some of the things I've done while hammered but at least I don't have any permanent reminders of my little indiscretions. That particular design is unique as far as I know. The only shitheads that wear it are members of some fucking ultra-nationalistic circle-jerk that called themselves The Brotherhood. I'd thought we'd wiped out the assholes years ago. They were the ones that planted the bomb that killed the Boss's wife, Kathy. Ten years I fought beside the Boss and I don't think I've ever seen him out of control. Even when we stepped in it so deep I wouldn't have given us million to one odds of coming out alive, he was always cold as ice; in fact the worse it got, the cooler he got. One look at him even as the buzz-bombs flew past our heads with just centimeters to spare you could see him calmly thinking the situation through and you just knew, knew, he was going to get us out of it. Is there any wonder we look at him like he was some kind of god? Admittedly one with clay feet and on the lower tiers of god-dom but a god nonetheless. But when Kathy was killed he lost it completely. We all did. She was the Madonna at his side and the mother to all of us. Most of us didn't have much if any family left after the war. Lots of siblings died in the fighting and most parents had either been dead by the time the war started or died from attacks, disease, neglect or starvation soon after it started. Mine died right at the beginning. They were in old New York on vacation when it was attacked. I was sixteen just about to turn seventeen and I joined up the next day. Had to wait a whole month before I hit the big one-seven to be sworn in but the rest they say is history. I for one have never seen him go after Vencoms like he went after The Brotherhood. It was awe-inspiring and maybe just a little bit scary. I'm not sure he ate or slept for the whole two months we dug those shitheads out from beneath their rocks except when we forced him to. Call it revenge, vigilantism or just a misplaced sense of civic duty but he — all of us — wanted them exterminated and as far as I'm concerned it didn't matter if it was a good idea or a bad idea but since it was the boss's it was the right idea. We thought we'd got all of them but looks like we must have missed at least one. I'm not going to say I'm proud of everything we did to root them out ... No, strike that. I have no remorse or feelings of guilt about what we did. Some of the things we did during the war I still have problems with but with this I didn't. All I'm going to say right now is that not many of them died a quick death and like the boss said way back when, if you want to find those bodies you're gong to have to sift through a lot of old shark shit. Good luck. Anyway as soon as he saw that tattoo the boss changed. If you've never see it before you wouldn't understand but "changed" is still the best way I can describe it. One minute there was the happy, just-got-laid, Danny Mayhem, (relatively happy anyway; he was still pissed off at me) and the next there was the combat version of Captain Mayhem and that's enough to scare the piss out of you, or should if you knew what it meant. It was like flipping a switch: one second a man is standing in front of you, then — Bam! — a machine, a really fucking dangerous machine. I could see Weird and Brian's posture change almost immediately; they noticed it at the same time I did. "Who was he?" the boss asked in a clear, controlled and completely emotionless voice. "He was listed on the roster as Delmar Blue," Stratton answered. He hadn't noticed anything, the stupid bastard. Stubing had. I could tell by the way his head cocked and his look turned wary. Not bad for a REMF. "Did you know him?" Stratton continued. "No, but I recognize that," the boss said pointing to the tat. "Delmar Blue? That name is different; I don't think I've ever met anyone with that last name." "Anyway," he continued shaking himself slightly. "That particular marking was used by a home-grown terrorist group a few years ago. They called themselves The Brotherhood and decided they didn't want any immigrants coming in to pollute the decent American gene pool. They were responsible for a number of attacks and killed quite a few innocent people; my wife was one of them." "I'm sorry, Daniel," Stubbing added sympathetically. "I don't believe I've ever heard of them. Were they ever caught?" "Not by the cops," the boss mused. I could see the gears turning in his head. "Do you think it means anything?" Stubing asked. "I mean could this be a threat to my ship?" I never understood some people's attachment to inanimate objects; I mean I like my sniper rifle well enough but if I had to lose it or destroy it for the mission or to save my ass I wouldn't even think twice. I can always get another one. Of course he had to think about his passengers and crew, so that's a difference; just another reason I'm glad I was never an officer. "Not enough info," the boss shook his head. "It could be just a wild coincidence or maybe something personal against me. But if it's not..." He just let those words hang in the air. "There is no Delmar Blue in the national database, Captain," Weird interjected. Both the Boss and Captain Stubing turned to him and started to ask something before looking at each other in confusion. "This is why it's tradition for a ground force's captain to be called major while on a naval vessel," Captain Stubing remarked dryly. "Point taken, Captain," the Boss grunted. "How do you know that, Mr. Willis?" Stubing asked. Weird didn't answer but looked over at the Boss as if asking for direction. "Take what he says as the Gospel," the Boss answered. "But nobody has access to the database," Stratton protested. Stubing merely raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Before I answer anything else I need to know that anything I tell you will be held in the strictest of confidences," the boss said slowly. "Even if it might not be strictly legal." "I can't agree to that," Stratton exclaimed. "I'm duty bound to report anything that violates the law." "Even if we're outside the United States?" "Even then," Stratton said, but he looked a little uneasy about that answer. "Then you'll either have to believe me or not," the boss said finally. "Mr. Stratton, I'd like you to step outside and make sure we're not disturbed," Stubing said mildly. "But, Sir..." Stratton sputtered. "Now, Mr. Stratton." "Yes, Sir." "Now, what the fuck is going on, Mayhem?" Stubing asked turning to the Boss when Stratton had exited and closed the door. "I assume I have your word then?" "When it comes to the safety of my ship and it's passengers you can assume I don't give a damn about what's legal or not," Stubing grunted. "You really have access to the national database? What are you, some kind of NIS agent?" NIS, that's the National Intelligence Service. The NAS, CIA and the FBI had been merged under one umbrella organization years before the war. To some they were the National Police to others the Gestapo (I had to ask the boss where the hell that came from); to me they were just some nebulous organization floating out there somewhere. All I know is they are a relatively small organization and all the best spies in the vids are supposed to be from the NIS. "Not even close," the boss shook his head. "Just a normal everyday civilian." That almost caused me to laugh but it's a good thing I didn't. I was in enough trouble already. "Right," Stubing responded dryly. He didn't buy it either. "So tell me Mr. Everyday Civilian, how you crack into one of the most secure databases in the world?" "It's not that secure," Weird muttered. "Mr. Willis has an ... affinity ... for working with AIs," the Boss coughed. "And with a little, ah, assistance he is able to get us information that might not be, you might say, not available to most people." "Assistance?" Stubing asked looking at Weird curiously. "You mean an AI of some type? What could you get that would help you break into ... You have a TELCUI don't you? My God that must be it! A TEACUI!" TEACUI is the official designation for a Combat AI. It stands for TEAm-Combat-Unit-Integrator although most grunts just called them CAIs. We call ours Sara. "Something very much like one," the boss answered evasively. "Let's just say he has help, although he doesn't need much." "That's how you knew about the autopsy vids," Stubing stiffened and then looked at Weird angrily. "You've hacked into my ship's AI!" "Olivia," Weird whispered and looked down. "I call her Olivia." "What?" Stubing exclaimed and then brushed it aside. "Never mind. I have a feeling we'll need to talk about this later but right now I need to know if my ship is in danger." "Mayhem," he continued turning back to the boss, "you said this might be against you personally. Do you think that's a real possibility? It sounds like you have a history with the so-called Brotherhood." "History, you could say that," the Boss nodded. "But I would have sworn nobody on their side alive knew about it." "Alive? Forget I even asked. I don't want to know." A good officer knows when to ask questions; a great officer knows when not to. "It's a remote possibility," the boss admitted. "Ah, excuse me for just a minute please." The Boss started talking into his ship's ID bracelet. Weird was standing next to him listening. A few seconds later his jaw was moving so I knew he was talking to somebody and since it wasn't on the net it was probably either the boss or the ship's AI. "I'm sorry, Captain," The Boss said as he turned back towards us. "If there is any chance I might have been the target and there's more than one of them on board then anyone I'm with or have been with might be a target also. I have a ... guest ... in my stateroom and I asked her to stay there until I knew it's safe to leave. She's one of your crew, Captain. I hope you won't hold it against her if she's scheduled to be somewhere." Stubing look amused and began to say something until Weird interrupted him. "Miss Nakpradith is no longer on the active duty roster, Cap— Major," he said looking pleased with himself. "Also the ship's locater now shows her in the crew's lounge and will move her randomly around the ship until I tell her differently." "God, you people are good!" Stubing just shook his head. "I am definitely going to have to look at my security when this is over." "I don't think you were the target, Daniel," Brian added. Sometimes he's so quiet you almost forget he is there. "If you think back to the vid of the incident it certainly didn't look like he recognized you or was targeting you specifically. In fact I would say he didn't even notice you until you threw the bottle at him." The Boss nodded thoughtfully. "I'll grant that, although I'm not ready to discount the possibility entirely yet." "The question is," he said looking at the stiff on the table, "if I just happen to be at exactly the wrong place at the wrong time then what in the fuck was he doing here and was he alone?" Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 8 -Mr. Black- "Do you have the vest made up?" Black asked as Green frowned at him. "Yeah, sort of," Green replied. Before Black could ask the obvious question he continued. "The gel is setting up and will be ready at the same time everything else is. It'll go off; no problem. No, the problem is the detonator; actually the remote activator for the detonator. This wasn't exactly in the mission plans so we didn't bring that kind of equipment with us. I was able to adapt an old raghead trick and rig a disposable com-link to the detonator. Call it and boom. The problem is it's not instantaneous. The answer, link and activation of the detonator take three or four seconds and anyone who's ever been near one will know exactly what it is, especially if they see it's a prayer vest." "Three or four seconds," Black mused. "Do you think Brown will know what it is when he hears it? If he does, could he do anything about it?" "Doubt it, either of them," Green admitted. "But people around him might. There're plenty of veterans out there." "With four seconds what could they do except pray for their own souls?" Black grinned. "It sounds more than acceptable. Just make sure Brown doesn't know anything about it. I'm sure he'll enjoy the surprise." Green just laughed. ------- -Daniel- The first thing I thought — check that — the first thing I felt when I saw that tattoo was rage and blinding hate. The next thing was me thinking I'd killed that son-of-a-bitch far too quickly. After that I clamped down and went into combat mode. It's really surprising how quickly that can come back to you. I see you already have most of the following conversation from Mike's side so I won't bore you by repeating it. I, of course, was a tad bit curious as to what one of The Brotherhood would be doing on the Xanadu, in the same bar I was, shooting up the place. I'm not one who generally believes in coincidences; they happen far too often to be just a matter of chance. I was thinking at the time that Brian was probably right: it sure didn't look like the fucker was after me specifically. I mean if he was he could have pulled and drilled me anytime before he set off on that poor waitress. I know these people are crazy but I didn't think they were that stupid also. The most rational explanation — if you could call anything dealing with these creeps rational — was the idiot went bug-nuts and it was just unlucky happenstance I happened to be there at the same time. Although now that I think about it if I hadn't been there Sumalee could very well have been hurt or killed so maybe it was a lucky happenstance I was there. It's the story of my life: I just happen to be somewhere some clown is shooting and it's a good thing. If there is a God, all I can say is he has a lousy sense of humor. Just on the outside chance it might have been something personal I did put Sumalee in a sort of lockdown. Well, I asked her to stay in my cabin, not to call anyone and wait for me. I asked her to trust me and she said she did but her tone of voice gave me plenty of warning that there was going to be some serious enlightenment required from certain parties and I don't think she felt the need to explain anything right then. I'd gladly make my apologizes and grovel later; right then there were more important matters to discuss. "The question is," I said to no one in particular, "if I just happened to be at exactly the wrong place at the wrong time, then what in the fuck was he doing there and was he alone? "That name still bothers me," I muttered. I know the male members of our species aren't supposed to be intuitive or listen to our inner "feelings" but I've always had hunches and over the years I've learned to go with them; most of the time they turn out to be correct. I like to think of it as my hind brain working on these complicated problems involving fitting disjointed and seemingly unrelated pieces together while my conscious mind paid attention to the really important stuff like drinking, smoking and getting laid. Right now my hind brain was pointing like a birddog and it was alerting on fuck-wad's name of all things. "Blue, Blue, I don't think I've ever met someone with that name before," I mused. "There are only sixty-three citizens listed in the database with that surname," Weird added helpfully. "But he isn't one of them." "It's a fake identity," I continued to mutter. "But why use one that's so uncommon?" "Why use one at all unless you're up to no good?" Brian interjected. "Good point," I nodded. "Captain, I think we have to assume our stiff here was up to no good, although the pistol made that pretty obvious from the start. I think to be on the safe side we also should assume he didn't smuggle a piece onboard just to shoot up one of your nearly empty bars. The question is was he just a lone kook or are there more of them and if so what in the hell do they have planned?" "You are paranoid," Stubing chuckled. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone isn't out to get you," Mike announced as she lounged back against a bulkhead, or wall or whatever. I'm not sure what the damn things are on a ship the size of a small city. I suppose she was feeling cockier now that she figured I was distracted away from her earlier fuckup. She was partly correct but she and I were still going to have it out later and she was going to apologize to Sumalee; it didn't matter that Sumalee didn't even know about it. What Mike really needed was a spanking but I didn't have an army big enough to accomplish that without it becoming just a novel method of committing suicide. I'd deal with her later. "Damn, this is going to drive me nuts," I said. "Weird, how many passengers have a surname that's a color?" "Primaries only? English or any language? This may take some time and a little interpretation by Olivia," Weird shrugged. "Ah, crap," I muttered. "Make primaries and secondaries; English only. Let's see what we get. Oh, male only." Weird just nodded and his eyes unfocused for a moment. "Male only?" Stubing inquired. "If this is The Brotherhood," I responded. "Then it's he-men only. None of the weaker sex allowed. They're supposed to be home cooking, cleaning, barefoot and pregnant." Mike snorted but at least she kept her mouth shut. Who says you can't train a cat? "There are one hundred and twenty six Whites; forty-three Greens and another seventeen spelled G-r-e-e-n-e; only the one Blue; eighty-four Blacks; no Reds, Yellow, Orange or Purple; although there are two Violets," Weird finally said. "Well, if my hunch is on track at least that's a start," I shrugged. "Can you track back Mr. Blue's movements and see if he came within say a meter of any of those passengers?" "Sure Captain, I mean Major, but it'll take awhile." "Daniel, you're assuming they would meet after coming on board," Brain said. "If it were me planning to do something I'd have us stay as far away as possible from each other." "True, but maybe they would call each other? Weird, can you tell us who he's called?" "No one," Weird answered after a momentary pause. "No one at all?" Weird just shook his head. I stood there in thought for a moment. Don't laugh. I can do it; I just try not to do it too often. "Hmm," I muttered. "Okay, how much time would it take to track the movements of our color people backwards from now and see if any of them come close to another one? Oh, I just thought of something, eliminate the ones that are here with family groups. By the way if we do that how many of each color do we have?" "Using the same name berthed in the same cabin as a family group there are..." Weird paused for another moment. "There are fourteen Whites; two Greens, none spelled G-r-e-e-n-e; one Blue; five Blacks; no Reds, Yellow, Orange, Purple or Violets." "That narrows it down a bit," Mike said from where she was lounging. "All right, using that group how long would it take to track them and see if any of them came close to each other?" I asked Weird. "Minutes, hours, days," he shrugged. "Depends on if they actually do or when. Olivia is a good AI but she isn't Space Command's Sky Tracker. This is a bit like trying to track individual molecules in a drop of water. Why work backwards and not from when they first came aboard?" "I think Brian was right," I explained. "If it were me, I wouldn't want us to meet either until right before we made our move, if then. However, unless this little stunt was a diversion, which it might have been, I'm thinking this was a nut-case that flipped out before he was supposed to and if so it had to throw them off schedule. That being the case I would call everybody together as soon as possible and either call it off or start it moving quicker." "You're assuming there is some kind of conspiracy here," Stubing noted. "Sure," I shrugged. "If there isn't then I just look silly but—" "If you're correct then somebody shooting up a bar is the least of my worries," he finished looking grim. "You know you don't have to do anything, Daniel. You and your friends are my passengers; I'm responsible for your safety and not the other way around. I know you people were good but you're civilians now; you don't have to do anything. I have to call the NIS about this anyway; we can let them take care of it." "I'd rather not have to swim home, if it's all the same to you, Captain," Brian grinned. "The Xanadu is unsinkable," he grunted. "Of course she is, Captain Smith." I couldn't help but take a jab at that. "Point taken," he huffed. "But this isn't the Titanic; the X was designed so that even if she broke apart, the parts would float." "Depends how many pieces she broke into," I mused. "If they can smuggle guns aboard I wonder what else they could get hold of." I turned back to Weird. "Go ahead and run that tracking program and is it possible to track calls between passengers the same way." "Could," he acknowledged. "It would be faster than the other search but running them both together would slow everything down." "Run the call track first," I nodded. "I have a hunch they called before getting together; I would. How else would you find everybody on this thing?" Then I glanced back towards Stubing. "Captain, do you have somewhere where we can look over the ship's schematics?" "We could do it here on one of the screens," he nodded. "But it would be better on the holo-tank in the Control Room. What are you looking for?" "The best way to disable, destroy or take over your ship, of course," I said with a smile. "Once I know how I would do it I'm betting we'll have a damn good idea how they would do it." "Then let's go. The CR isn't that far," he said showing us out. We were the last two out the door and he grabbed my arm causing me to pause. "You know, Daniel," he said grimly, "if this is the real deal I'm going to owe you big time." "Let's just hope I'm nothing more than a burned out paranoid psycho, Jack," I whispered. He could only nod. ------- We spent the next few hours arguing how we would go about pirating or destroying something bigger than a small city. We even had Stan in on the discussion over Sara's net. He was our demolition expert after all. "I figure about fifty, sixty kilo's of C12 and I could make a pretty nice hole in the water," was his final conclusion. "Impossible! How could you do that?" Stubing demanded. "Using your hydrogen tanks," he answered evenly as a disembodied voice. He was talking about the two tanks each carrying about one-hundred-thousand tonnes of liquid hydrogen used to feed the ship's fuel cells, one in each hull. I probably didn't mention it but the Xanadu was built like a catamaran with two separate hulls containing the engineering spaces, crew quarters and storage. The passenger section rested like a big box on top just like a huge pontoon boat. "But they're designed in the highly unlikely event of a catastrophic failure to blow outboard," he insisted. "It would be a mess for sure, but not disastrous." "Sure, if the explosion came from within the tank," Stan continued. "But if you set off charges on either side and compressed it the same way you'd set off a nuke..." "Mushroom cloud," Mike muttered. "Not that bad," Stan admitted. "But there wouldn't be much left; that's for sure." "Better have your security down there," I said to Stubing. "They already are," he nodded grimly. "As many as I can spare anyway; we're not exactly overstaffed with security personnel." "And we don't even know if that's their objective," I agreed. "So, what would we do if we wanted to take over?" That one was actually more difficult since the ship's AI controlled everything and her individual components were relatively decentralized. In fact if you didn't have someone like Weird — and I'm not sure there is anybody like him anywhere else — with access to a Sara, that is a combat AI designed with that particular ability as one of her specifications, it would be almost impossible. While we hashed that out I had a few seconds to call and talk to Sumalee. "Daniel, I was worried about you," she sighed. "I'm fine," I assured her. "We might have some problems here but to be honest I'm in no more danger than anyone else right now. I'll tell you about it later but for now it would make me feel a whole lot better if you would stay right there. Will you do that?" "I will if you want me to, Daniel," I heard her say. She sounded concerned, curious and maybe a little bit frightened. Well she had a right to be even if she didn't know exactly what was going on; of course neither did any of the rest of us. "I will not ask if everything is all right. I can tell it is not. May I ask if Teresa will be safe?" Again she sounded concerned but no more than any friend would for another friend. It shouldn't have made me feel as good as it did but since I'm telling you what was and not what should have been, there it was. "Where is she, baby?" "She should be in rehearsal in the forward theater," Sumalee explained. "She is a dancer." If anywhere should be safe it should have been the forward section of the ship. "I think so," I answered. "If fact everything is probably fine. It's just that I have a nasty, suspicious mind that makes me ask you to stay there for now. That and of course I'll know where to find you later," I added. "You will always be able to find me, Daniel," she giggled. I told her goodbye and signed off. "What time is it?" I muttered and glanced up at the wall chrono. It was 1735. Shit, it was later than I'd thought. "Got something, Captain," Weird called out excitedly. "Last night a couple of hours after your little dustup one of our Blacks made a few quick calls. Want to guess who he called? A White, Gray, Green, and a Mr. Brown! How the hell did you know, Skipper?" "It's just been bothering me ... That's it! Now I remember!" I shouted. "It's an old movie about a bunch of guys who take over an underground train in old New York! They hold it for ransom and use colors as their handles! Damn, I can't remember what the name of it was, though." "Taking of Pelham 123," Weird nodded. He must have had Sara do a search as I was talking. "That is an old one." "Damn, Boss, and we call him weird," Mike shook her head. "So, you think they're going to do the same thing: set some explosives and ask for loot not to blow it?" "I don't know," I admitted. "Sounds about as good a guess as any. Can you find these clowns now?" "Yep. Oh, and one more piece of conformation: all five of them met for a short time right after the calls," Weird added. "We're tracking them now and it looks like they're all on the move. Black is heading towards the portside lower decks; Gray and White look to be doing the same on the starboard while Brown and Blue ... Well they seem to be heading up deck. Can't tell exactly where just yet but it looks like it may be one of the dining rooms." "I'll send my men after them immediately," Stubing nodded grimly. "I'd be careful, Captain," I added mildly. "If they really do have explosives they may set them off if they see security where they don't expect it. Weird, how quickly are they moving?" "Not fast," he replied. "They're not moving anywhere in a straight line but still towards those areas." "If not my security personnel then what do you recommend, Mayhem?" Stubing asked. "Let us see if we can intercept them," I answered. "I doubt they'd suspect a couple of passengers in the passageways." "If the one from yesterday is any indication, they will probably be armed," Stubing warned. "I can't ask you to put yourself in that kind of danger and I have nothing I can get you quickly." "Just have your people follow us for backup," I said. "You don't have to ask, it's our asses on the line too." "It ain't like we've never seen a guy with a gun," Mike joked. "But you'll be unarmed!" Stubing protested. "I don't have a piece," she grinned. "But I'm not unarmed." Seemingly from nowhere a wicked looking 15 centimeter blade snicked out and was in her hand. "Boss, I told you these might come in handy." "Where the hell... ? Never mind," Stubing muttered. He had some reason to be surprised; Mike was wearing her poolside attire which was little more than a bikini, a semi-opaque beach cover-up and a pair of platform sandals. There was some doubt as to where a blade like that could be hidden. I had a good idea but it isn't fair to tell other people's secrets, be they magicians or pretty girls with big knives. "Yeah," I grunted. "Good enough. You feel like a threesome? How about the two heading down starboard? Brian, you want to take the loner on the port side? Weird and I will follow the two on the upper decks; I kind of have a bad feeling about those two." "A bad feeling about them?" Stubing mused. "I have a bad feeling about all of them." "Granted. I doubt any of them are up to any good, but those three are heading for unmanned spaces; the other two are going where there are people... lots of people. Just a guess, mind you, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were looking to set up a little diversion; a messy one with lots of dead passengers." Stubing turned a little gray at that. He paused for a moment and then shrugged. "You're the expert here," he said finally. "All I can say is thanks and if it goes bad I'll back you up with everything I have." "Then let's go have fun, kiddies," I sighed. "Brian, you need anything?" "Nope," he said shaking his head. "Either I get close to him or I don't. If I do, no problem. If I can't, then a knife wouldn't make a difference. I'm ready." "Right. Let's go create some hate and discontent," I said starting to follow my team out of the CR. Before I could leave Stubing stopped me with a hand on my arm. "I don't want to try to tell you your job," he frowned. "But should you send a woman alone after two men?" "That woman, yes," I answered. "The only problem might be if you wanted live prisoners. But I'm not overly worried about that right now. Are you?" "I guess not," he nodded slowly. "Don't let those legs or that cute ass fool you," I reassured him. "She's one of the best; they all are." He nodded and I left. ------- They were waiting for me outside the door with five security personnel, nervous security personnel. Stubing was right behind me. "These officers will accompany you," he said. "There will be more directed to the areas you're heading but have been told to remain discreetly back. They've been listening in so know to stay out of your way but be available if you need them." He looked at the ship-cops pointedly, "They will obey your orders like they were coming directly from me. Understood?" They all nodded. "They will be able to take you through the crew-only lifts. That should get you where you're going quicker; and Daniel ... May God go with you." "I rather have my 2mm and some artillery backup," I quipped. "But I'll take what I can get. Let's rock, fellows." We started down the corridor with our escort. "So you love me for my legs and cute ass?" Mike smirked as she gave me a hip check with the ass in question. "And I always thought it was my winning personality." "If it was only your personality I'd have drowned you years ago," I fired back. "Aww, Boss, you say the sweetest things," she said batting her eyes at me. "If a girl isn't careful you could turn her head with such flattery. I'll take those two," she said pointing at the cops on the right. "Just make sure you give them back when you're done," I shouted as the door to the lift the three of them stepped into started to close. "We'll see," I heard as the door swished shut. ------- -Douglas Franklin, Xanadu Security- This was without a doubt the craziest thing I have every seen, not that I've seen all that much to tell the truth. Shit, I'm only twenty-two. I was too young to actually have been in the war but it's always been my dream to be either in the military or in law enforcement. When I finished high school I spent two years in the prep school looking to join the county force back where I came from in Davenport, Iowa. Unfortunately they weren't hiring when I graduated but I was lucky enough to get this job on the X. I thought it would be boring but what the hell, it was a job. The next two years were spent as rent-a-cop in the shipyards and training for ship's security. I figured the worst I'd have to deal with would be a bunch of drunks for a few years, then with a little experience I could go out and get a real job. I have to admit I was more than a little nervous about what was going on and really didn't understand it. I mean what in the hell were me and my buddy Frank doing following this old lady; yeah sure she was hot and all that but Christ she must be over thirty or something like that! Without even thinking my hand went to my stunner. I know it's not really a stunner, not like in the vids anyway. It's really just a gas pistol, you know shoots a small pellet that breaks up on contact and has some sleep gas in it. Works well enough I suppose but the gas does take a second or two to actually quiet someone down, and even then it doesn't always knock them out. "Keep your hands off that," the lady said without even looking at me. "If you absolutely have to do something with your hands then pound your pud but I don't want one of you babies shooting your wad with those things before we even get there." I wanted to say something but just as I opened my mouth she glanced over at me and suddenly it didn't seem like a good idea. I've never seen eyes that dead before, or that hard. "Yes, ma'am," I think I muttered. "You have video on your com-links?" she asked. I nodded and looked down at my wrist that showed the two suspects moving slowly down a corridor. I will have to say they did look a little out of place. They had heavy windbreakers on and were carrying large bags like you would carry sports equipment or something. Also they weren't talking, just walking and glancing around every now and then. The lift let us out around the corner from where they would pass if they kept coming in the same direction. We stopped just before we got to the corner and she whispered, "Stay here unless you see I need you." Then to my surprise she quickly took off the beach cover-up, untied her top and peeled it off. Damn! For an old broad she had nice ones! Not too big but nicely shaped. I'd seen a lot of tits since we first started accepting passengers but I never get tired of seeing them and I hope I never do. She threw the top at Frank and said, "Hold onto this for me," before slipping the cover-up back on. She didn't fasten it in the front so you could tell she was swinging free and before either of us could say anything she stepped around the corner. As long as I live I will never forget, or really believe, what happened next. She started swishing down the corridor towards the two suspects in her bare feet (she'd taken off her sandals while I'd been staring at her tits), her hips moving back and forth while her tits bounced up and down under that flimsy top. At first the suspects' heads snapped around and one even started reaching under his jacket but then their eyes started following the various parts of her body as she approached them. You could almost see where their eyes would go from her legs to her hips to her tits and back again like they were having trouble deciding where to focus. I don't think they once looked at her face. She walked right down the middle of the corridor just like she owned the place and aimed right between them. "Howdy, boys," she said cheerfully as they reluctantly parted to let her through. That's when it happened. I've seen this at slow speed must be hundred times and I still can't believe it! One second she's just walking teasing the shit out of them and the next her fist is slamming into the throat of the guy on her right. He didn't even have time to gasp or bring his hands up before she was sort of twirling in the air and the heel of her right foot was connecting with the chin of the poor bastard on her left. He went down like someone had spitted him like a frog and never moved. The guy who'd she'd hit in the throat went down to his knees and grabbed his neck but they'd hardly got there before she was standing behind him and grabbing his head in some kind of head-lock. With a slight twist that she made look absurdly simple he was suddenly looking backwards over his shoulder and he toppled over his head wobbling like it really wasn't attached anymore. I have to admit I almost pissed my pants. Glancing at each other in shock, Frank and I finally rushed around the corner. Frank at least had the presence of mind to call for medical backup; I was too stunned. As we got close we could see she had pushed open their jackets. One had a holstered pistol the other an empty holster. The gun from that one was sitting on the deck next to her feet as she knelt down and rummaged through one of the bags. We could hear her talking as we got closer. "Yeah, Boss," she said out loud. "Packin', 5 mils; a bag each with what looks like C12 gel-packs ... If they ain't I'll give up drinking ... Yeah, remote detonators but I don't see any dead-man switch, guess they ain't as crazy as you are ... Nope, they didn't have time to say anything ... Yeah, I think one's alive, for now. I'm going to leave the stiffs with the local goons and head over to see if Brian needs a babysitter ... Fuck you too, Brian. When you learn to do it right, then I'll stop worrying about you ... Right, Nibs out." She finished just as we stopped next to her and she looked up at us. "You boys take care of this trash," she said as she stood up. "And be careful with this shit," she nudged one of the bags with her toe. "Not the kind of thing you want children to find and play with. I'm going to go help my idiot little brother." "Ma'am," Frank choked, "one of us should go with you." "Whatever," she shrugged and picked up the gun. "I suppose it would be quicker if one of you operated the lift; just don't get in my way." I didn't say anything as I watched them go. What I really wanted to do was find a nice place to puke. ------- -Daniel- I followed Weird as we left our own lift and our shadow followed ten or fifteen meters behind. "What's up, Weird?" "Brown just entered the dining area," he replied. "Green is still outside in the foyer on the other side." The dining room had three or four entrances; we were on the forward side while the goons were on the port side towards the back. I pointed at the security guy and then pointed at the deck where I was standing. I think I made it clear I wanted him to stay right there. He nodded back. "Let's get close to him and see what's going on," I said and Weird took off like a hound on the trail. About that time Mike broke into the net to tell me she'd taken down the two she was after and what it looked like they were carrying. Fuck, it looked like it was everything we'd hoped it wasn't. Wonderful! It don't get any better than this. Mike told me she was off to help Brian and I muttered something like okay. We were weaving in and out around tables when I spotted the guy. It had to be him; he had a jacket on over something that made him look too bulky for it to be natural. I was about to move towards him when he suddenly jumped up on an empty table and started shouting. "I have a bomb!" he screamed and opened his jacket with one hand exposing a vest with little cylinders and wires taped to it. Fuck! "Everybody just stay where you are or I'm going to blow it now!" He had what looked like a detonator switch in his other hand. I didn't think it was a dead-man's switch because he didn't have his thumb down on it. No, like some idiot he had it sticking straight up in the air. Naturally I froze in place. Humans have to be one of the dumbest animals in the known universe because of course most of the idiots around him jumped up and started screaming. The servers weren't much better although at least they didn't start screaming right away. I glanced at the one next to me and could see her staring at the mad bomber with shocked disbelief. They didn't have the servers in the dining areas wearing skimpy little outfits like they do in the bars or elsewhere which I remember thinking was a shame in this case. Talk about inappropriate for the situation! I mean sure she was a looker; a big girl, not fat just big, at least four centimeters taller than I was and built like the proverbial brick shithouse. Overall I got the impression she was pretty much proportional for a girl that size; everything except her tits that is: they were huge! Even with the billowy white blouse I could see that. I distinctly remember she was blonde although her hair was braided and hanging down her back. Ain't I a piece of work? I had one delightful little lady sitting in my stateroom; we're in the middle of a terrorist bombing and there I was staring at a set of tits! What a guy! Anyway I was finally able to tear my eyes away from the big girl's tits long enough to look up at the tango. Now I may be wrong, mind you, but it sure seemed like this guy was new to the whole suicide bombing routine from the way he babbled incoherently at the diners running away from him. Yeah, that's a joke; if you do it right everybody is new to that game. Used to be we'd say if you want someone who knew what they were doing in the suicide-bombing business you had to go to the French; they had some who'd done it dozens of times. Of course that was before the stupid ragheads nuked Paris and crisped the froggies skinny little bread loaves way beyond the point a civilized person could tolerate. Who would have thunk the people who in the twentieth century had come to epitomize military incompetence, undeserved self-righteousness and the ability to grovel and boot-lick any two-bit dictator or mass murdering government available, just so long as they weren't a friend of the U.S. that is. (Not that there isn't any bitterness remaining after about a hundred years or so; but one would have hoped there was some shred of obligation or friendship towards a country that left their dead soldiers littered all over your countryside liberating you from an occupation where the only shot fired was the accidental discharge of your rifle when you threw it down in surrender.) Maybe if the Germans had bombed Paris it would have been different. It sure as hell was after the fanatics made it a place of memories in the vids. I'm no historian but I'm pretty sure there was never a more violent and thorough response to something like that by a people en masse anywhere in recorded history. I know the Chinese did a pretty good job themselves but Christ on a crutch! I think the Muslim population in France was about thirty-five million when Paris was bombed and you couldn't find one there now if you had a search warrant! Hitler was a piker compared to the Frogs! Not being content with that, they had to nuke their cities and everywhere else even remotely considered holy by Islam. (I think if they'd had enough bombs they would have nuked everywhere the old Prophet Mohamed pissed or took a shit.) Not being content with that they sent their troops into the desert to kill any that had been smart enough to run at the first sight of trouble. Naturally they had a tendency to run over the toes of our boys who were there for almost the same reason. At least I never heard stories of our guys and gals massacring villages right down to the dogs in the street and babes in diapers; not as policy anyway. The fact is there are still problems between the French and, oh let's say, the rest of the world (excluding the Chinese who seem to have remarkably little problem with the Froggies' own version of the Final Solution), concerning the fact that on more than one occasion we had intentionally placed our troops between the French and for the most part completely innocent indigenous populations. It didn't take them long to realize that even an adrenalin-hyped, hate-filled berserker bent on mass slaughter still wasn't able to overcome the most brutally efficient battle weapon ever devised by man, : a US/UN trained and equipped infantry soldier. That's not to mean they didn't try and you have to give them points for courage. It wasn't just an isolated incident where a French soldier would strap on a load of C-12 and crawl into somewhere where he or she could get two or more Muslims or Western coalition troops and they didn't even do it for their God, they did it for revenge. Revenge or religion have got to be two of the dumbest things to purposefully die over but they didn't seem to have a problem with it. Anyway they're still a bit peeved about us stopping their fun and I for one couldn't give a fart in the wind in their general direction about it. Serves the murdering bastards right. How the hell did I get off on this tangent? Oh, that's right, the wide-eyed tango shouting and waving arms all the while wondering how he had lost control of the situation while his supposed victims were running around hither and yon not paying a bit of attention to what he was saying. In fact, if this had gone on for another minute or two there wouldn't have been anyone left except the blithering tango and one or two idiots that had run in there to save everyone. In fact it looked like a good time to follow the crowd and get the hell out of there. Unfortunately it was right about that time I heard one of the sounds that can make a wise man piss his pants: the buzz-click of a homemade remote detonator being activated. I've heard it a couple of times for real but of course everybody in the service has heard it at least in training. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Weird dive behind an island where they keep the clean dishes or some such shit. Thinking that was a pretty damn good idea I glanced up and saw my pretty blonde server standing there still staring at the tango like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming truck. So without thinking, which is pretty much standard operating procedure for me as I'm sure you've come to realize, for the second time in about as many days I found myself on top of a pretty woman staring down into a pair of eyes that seemed to drink my soul while the world was going to shit all around me. I remember she had the bluest eyes I have ever seen: ice blue, the color of a mountain lake or a cool, crisp, cloudless autumn sky. The kind of blue you could spend your whole life trying to find. Then there was a bright flash and the lights went out. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 9 -The VBS Widows Auxiliary, Chapter 1, First Meeting- Patricia's heels clicked on the floor as she hurried into the café. She was a little bit late but it took longer to settle her youngest, Patty, down than she had expected. There were a few tables occupied but most were singles and just a few couples. Then she spotted a table with two women and one man all of them looking at her expectedly. She moved purposefully towards them until she stood behind one of the two empty chairs. "Grace?" she asked. "Samantha? David?" "Matt, actually," the man said with a smile pushing a chair out in way of invitation. "Dave is with his boyfriend in Pensacola today but he said that anything we all decide he's willing to go along with. I assume you are Patricia?" "Just call me Pat," she answered sitting down. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "I had trouble settling down my youngest; she can be a handful sometimes." "Try it with a fifteen-year-old boy with the body of a grown man, the common sense of a soap dish and the morals of a weasel," Grace snorted dryly. "I hope I can assume at least yours didn't like to use you as a punching bag. Mine did, at least until Bradley — ah, Mr. Miller — explained the facts of life to him." "That I would like to have seen," Patricia said with raised eyebrows. "I know I sure did," Grace laughed. Grace Duve was a tall woman; you could see that even while she was sitting. She had long brown hair and a wide, pretty face that hardly reflected her forty years. She had wide shoulders which was fortunate for her since they were needed to support an impressive bosom prominently displayed by the low cut dress she was wearing. "I think he started off trying to explain the concept of personal property and respect for one's parents using that virtual porn game the little twit had bought with the money he stole from me," she continued. "It was about the time the first 'Fuck you' came out of his mouth when that trashy little game got wadded up into a little ball like a piece of paper." "That must have impressed him," Samantha tentatively interjected. Matt just laughed. "Hey, I was a kid once," he explained when three pairs of eyes zeroed in on him. "I have a good idea what's coming next." "Maybe you do," Grace smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Obviously you don't have boys, Samantha." "Sam, please," she whispered. "Okay, Sam," Grace chuckled. "Anyway, Matt is correct. My boy Donald has turds for brains because the first thing he does is take a swing at someone standing in front of him who could obviously break him in half like a twig. "You know," she mused out loud, "I never knew you could still lecture someone while methodically, scientifically and without a shred of anger thoroughly beating the crap out of him. After two weeks Donald still limps a bit but it's been 'Yes, ma'am' or 'No, ma'am' ever since. Surprisingly, he seems to be happier ever since it happened." "Sometimes a boy just needs to be shown he's not the big dog on the porch," Matt nodded knowingly. "Now if it wasn't for Susan, she's my fiancée," he explained. "I wouldn't have a clue what to do with my girls. I do my best but..." he raised his hands in surrender. "I know she's going to be a good mother to them but we've been waiting to get married until at least one of us has a job." "I think it's a man/woman thing," Grace nodded. "I didn't have any daughters of my own, although I would have liked to. I'm just having trouble relating to my boy; although I will say if he continues like this I actually may start liking the little shit again." "If he starts to backslide maybe we could have one of the Kolbe brothers come over to talk to him," Patricia giggled. "If your Donald takes a swing at one of them then I'm afraid he's terminally stupid. Really big doesn't even begin to describe the Kobles," she said looking around at them. "Gee, is he single?" Grace smirked. "I think he's more David's type if I understand the term boyfriend," Patricia answered. "And before you ask, his brother is supposed to be heavily involved with some singer that all the vets seem to know but I'm afraid I don't. Bernheart or something like that." "Natalie Bernstead?" Matt asked and Patricia nodded. "I've heard of her. You're right; the vets seem to think she's some kind of minor deity or something. Don't see it myself but there's no accounting for taste. "And I must also apologize," he said looking at his chronograph and standing up. "But I have to leave: a job interview," he said proudly. "I'm going to say the same thing David did: anything you three ladies decide to do I'll go along with. If it wasn't for Brad and the VBS I wouldn't even be getting this interview. As far as I'm concerned if you want me to crawl through broken glass to retrieve a live grenade, I'm your man." After he left the three women sat there and stared silently at each other for a few minutes. "Sizing up the competition?" Grace smiled breaking the silence at last. "I don't know what you mean," Patricia answered innocently. "We're here to see what we can do to thank Bradley and the VBS for everything they've done for us." Grace didn't say anything as she continued to stare at her. "Okay, fine!" Patricia snorted. "I can see you're a 'lay them on the table' kind of woman. So all right, let's get down to it. I want him. I love him. He's the best man I've met since my husband died. I loved my husband but it's time to get on with life. Bradley is good and kind and gentle while still being a real man in every way that counts. He's the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. If he'll have me that is," she frowned. "I sense he has some of those same feeling for me but every time I try to get close he pulls back." "That damned no-dating policy," Grace growled. "It's more than that, I think," Pat said, shaking her head. "It's like he's afraid he'll hurt me if he lets his feeling out." "I know exactly what you mean," Grace nodded then sighed. "I'll admit it out loud: I love him too. Have practically since the first day he brought that silly box to my door. And yes, I get the same feeling: he looks at me as something more than just a client. I know it sounds stupid; I'm too old for him and there are so many pretty women that would cut a throat to get at him..." She turned slightly so she wasn't looking directly at the table and Patricia could see a tiny tear in the corner of one eye. Grace sniffed, "Maybe it's just me being delusional: if you want something bad enough, your mind sometimes convinces itself it can really happen. Sometimes ... sometimes I get the feeling he wants me, like a man wants a woman and it feels so wonderful. Do you know how long it's been since I've had that feeling?" "About as long as it has been for me," Pat said reaching out to grasp one of Grace's hands. "And you're beautiful," she continued. "I don't know how I could compete with you and your..." "Tits?" Grace sniffed then snorted. "Yeah the tits attract them, but if that's all they want then they aren't worth having. I wish I had your body, either one of you." "I love him too," Samantha said softly. She had been looking down at the table during their conversation but now she was looking up, trembling, but still looking at the other two. Samantha Roebling was what somebody would call petite. Shorter than Patricia with a slim build, she had huge, sea-green eyes in an elfin face with cream-perfect skin framed perfectly by flowing shoulder-length dark red hair. "I ... I love him too," she said more firmly although she was still visibly trembling. "I love him and I'll fight for him if I have to." "Well, this is a bit of a mess, isn't it?" Grace smiled slightly and sat back in her chair. "So what do we do now? Guns, knives, barehanded? Best two out of three? Last one standing?" "I don't think that would be the best thing to do," Patricia said slowly and she looked around at her two rivals. "I don't think we can win Bradley by arm wrestling or flipping a coin. If our feelings are more than wishful thinking and he actually feels something for each of us..." "Spit it out girl," Grace grinned. "Someone's got to say it." "And it has to be me?" Patricia rolled her eyes. "Yep," Grace smirked. "Fine," Patricia huffed then sighed. "But I don't know why the one with the biggest tits couldn't say it." Grace just wiggled her shoulders setting her top in motion that threatened to pop the subject mammies out of their already overburdened constraints. Pat just rolled her eyes again. "Maybe we should consider the possibility — just the possibility mind you — that three women could share one man ... if that man was Bradley Miller." "There," she huffed again. "I said it." "Yes you did," Grace nodded. "I can't say it's what I had in mind when you asked us all to get together. I wanted to see who else he was seeing and make it clear to anyone concerned that I intended to have that man and I was going to leave a bloody pulp — figuratively speaking of course — of anyone who was going to get in my way. "I was all set to hate the vicious harpies that would dare to try and get between me and my man." Then she chuckled, "But I kind of like you two. I know, I know, we don't know each other but I certainly can't say I instantly dislike either of you and we do seem to have one thing in common." "That we do," Patricia agreed and Samantha nodded vigorously in concurrence. "But what do we do about it?" "The first thing we have to get around is that God-damned no-dating policy," Samantha growled then she looked shocked and covered her mouth with a hand. "So the mouse has a little bite," Grace smiled. "That's good." "I know I'm too timid," Samantha said dropping her hand and beginning to tremble again. "But I can be strong if I have to." "I have a feeling we're all going to need to be strong in the future," Grace said reaching out to pat the small woman's hand. "And you are right. How do we get around this stupid policy? Who is this Mayhem? Bradley makes him sound like some prophet of God whose every belch is a decree from the Almighty himself." "That I can deal with," Patricia said firmly. Raising her wrist she spoke into her communicator. "VBS headquarters. VBS? Good, I'd like to be put through to Captain Mayhem's office please. Thank you." She crossed her legs and winked at the other two. "This is Captain Mayhem's office? To whom am I speaking please. Sara. Thank you Sara, this is ... Yes, this is Patricia Henderson. I'd like an appointment to see the Captain as soon as possible. No, it does not concern Mr. Miller and don't you dare even consider reprimanding him or taking him off my case! He has done a fantastic job and we don't want anything ... Yes, 'we, ' there will be three of us. Mrs. Duev and ... Well, yes, Mrs. Roebling. How did you know? Never mind. This is absolutely nothing bad about Mr. Miller but it's personal and we need to talk to the Captain about it. He's on vacation? When will he be back? Okay, when is the first time ... Okay, if that is the earliest we can get. Thank you very much. Goodbye. "Two weeks from today at 1400 we can see God himself," she told the other two. "Sounds good," Grace nodded. "I might suggest the three of us get together over the next few weeks to get to know one other. We don't even know if we can stand each other." "The real question is do you think you can stand the thought of him fucking the other two of us," Pat said bluntly. "Because I don't know about Sam but I fully intend to have him between my legs as often as humanly possible." "That is a question," Grace mused then smiled. "But you know, right now that doesn't sound so bad as long as I get my turn." ------- -Brian- Tracking tangos isn't anything new for any of us; now doing it inside a floating building filled with n-bats — that's non-combatants — certainly added a new twist to things. I suppose it sounds a little strange hearing someone talking about hunting an armed terrorist loaded down with enough explosives to make a reasonable sized hole in the ocean, alone and with, as Mike would put it, nothing but two empty hands and a dick. Add to that the so-called hunter not even being particularly worried or even upset. Actually it does kind of sound strange when you say it that way, but it's true. I've been scared before, terrified enough to just about piss my pants so I know the feeling and this wasn't it. I'm not one for a great deal of introspection but if I had to judge what I was feeling it was annoyance. You weren't supposed to have to work while on vacation. Sure, babysitting Mike was something of a chore at times, but that's more like family stuff, doesn't count as work. That Mike is sure something though: pretty as a picture, deadly as a viper and crazier than a bag of squirrels. None of us could ever figure out whether she was nuts-o crazy in love with the Captain or if it was something else. I usually voted for the something else but damned if I could ever figure out what it was. I mean she never had the jealousy thing going. The Captain didn't fuck around very much and never when Kathy was alive, but he's the kind of guy most women like and he's never hurting for it when he needs it. Mike doesn't seem to give a rat's ass who he's poking; in fact I know for a fact she's peeked in on him over the net when he's left it open. Doesn't even have the shame to deny it; says it makes her horny. And I'm not going to get into the whole Cynthia Delmar thing. That wasn't jealousy; that was just pure righteous anger. All I'm going to say is that stupid bitch is lucky to be alive. It was a close vote, six to one, but unfortunately the Captain had the only vote that counted. Still, if she makes even a little wiggling move towards him I have a feeling we're going to find out just how good her reconstructive surgeon really is. So I'm thinking it's not one of those "He's my man and you keep your fucking claws out of him, bitch!" kind of love, if that's what it is. Shit, I've never even heard her mention anything about her wanting to go to bed with him and after being with her so drunk on her ass she'd tell you every secret she knows for a smile I'm pretty sure that would have come up. The only thing I do know is regardless of whether or not I understand it, there is some connection there and it isn't just some woman wanting to get fucked by her boss. If the Captain died I don't think Mike would last ten minutes. I know it's not flattering and probably not even accurate but it's like she's a parasite and the captain's her host. If he died so would she. It's not so much that she lives vicariously through him; she lives because he does. I've seen stranger things but not many. Anyway we were taking the lift down port side; oh yeah, I think I said I was alone but I really wasn't. I had these two babies from the ship's force with me but as far as I'm concerned they'd be about as useful as screen doors on a submarine. I doubt the captain would be happy if I used them for bait or as a shield so for all intents and purposes I was alone. I was getting constant updates from Sara when we reached the level we were heading for when Mike took out the two she was after. Jeez, you have thought these two had never seen a takedown before the way they turned green and looked like they were going to puke. "If you two can't be quiet or are going to be sick just stay here," I said without looking back. "And stay the fuck out of my way." According to Sara my target was still a few corridors away, moving slowly. I didn't know if he was behind schedule, if the others were ahead or if something else was going on. Mike said she was coming our way since she was done and needed to babysit me. Naturally I told her go fuck herself, not that anything I'd say would even slow her down. So like any force of nature, you don't try to stop it, you just try to deflect it somewhat. I directed her to a flanking position aft of the tango. Maybe if she got here soon enough she could do that tits and ass thing again and it'd be over. So much for wishful thinking. The next thing I heard was Sara on the net calmly announcing, "Explosion in dining room 11-C. Mayhem down. Willis down." Now being declared "down" can mean a number of things ranging from unconscious to barely alive up to vaporized. What it usually meant was Sara had lost contact and wasn't receiving life sign telemetry. It could mean the unit was knocked off line momentarily or that there was nothing left to monitor. "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" Mike screamed through the net. "God damn it, I got to find him!" "Mike, Mike, MIKE!" I tried saying. "Michele! Would you shut your fucking mouth!" Almost no one uses her given name; it was usually good for a cracked rib or two but this time I was hoping for just a little silence. I got that, at least. "Say what you got to say, asshole," she growled. "I'm going to find the boss." "At least listen to Sara, Mike," I responded. Sara had been updating us while Mike was ranting. Sara should have cut her off; I'm not sure why she didn't. "Sergeant Darlington, Captain Mayhem is alive but unconscious," she informed us calmly. "Sergeant Willis is conscious and with the Captain although his com-link is in the process of resetting itself. I do not have verbal communications at this time. The target "Green" has left the scene; his vector indicates he is going to meet with target "Black" in approximately five minutes." So that's what it was; Black wasn't late he was waiting for somebody. It also meant the tits and ass routine wasn't going to work even if Mike was in the mood to pull it off which with the Captain down I had a feeling she wasn't. She was going after blood and pain and I can't say I'd disagree with her. "The lift has stopped and opened," Mike reported. "Cubby, my pet goon says it's automatic for emergencies: fires and such. It would appear exploding bombs qualify. Bottom line, I ain't going to make it there before the tangos meet up. It'll be quicker if I meet you at... " she rattled off an intersection. "Can someone give me an up date on the Captain?" "Sergeant Willis is with Captain Mayhem at this time," Sara answered smoothly. "Captain Mayhem is slowly regaining consciousness. Sergeant Willis is transmitting but does not appear to be receiving. I am forwarding his last conversation." "... I can't hear a damn thing so I don't know if I'm transmitting," came Weird's voice over the net. It isn't easy to identify somebody sub-vocalizing over the net but after a few years you get so it's as easy to recognize as their regular voice. "Cap'n's down but not out. Somebody blew the bastard's vest; we could hear the remote detonator lighting off. I got behind some stand they have here so it's just my ears from the concussion. Cap'n was a hero again and jumped on some serving girl protecting her. Got some shrapnel in his back and a couple of burn patches; probably scrambled his brains pretty good would be my guess but he was lying pretty flat so most of the blast passed over him." "Oh shit! The girl just got up and is now looking at his back like she knows what to do. Let me tell you he couldn't have been lying too flat; this girl's got tits like you wouldn't believe!" Most people thought Weird was some kind of asexual computer hybrid but that just isn't the case. He notices women just fine, thank you. The problem is once his brain notices them and his body starts to do something about it, his brain is already off on some other tangent and he forgets what he was going to do about it. But I digress and he continued. "If you hear me, this is to let you know the Captain and I will be all right but he is OOC (out of commission) until further notice and so am I until I find a hand interface." "You heard it ladies," Top broke into the net for the first time. "I'm assuming command. Sergeant Darlington, you have tactical control on site. Sara has net control and is still interfaced with the ship's AI. Nibs, you have it." "Got it Top, " Mike responded. Now that she knew the Captain was going to be all right she was back to being the killing machine she excelled at. "Cubby, you got any heat?" "Just a gas pistol I can get from one of the guards and my dick," I answered. "Great, a toy and a snubby with no bullets," she snorted. "Wait for me. I'll be there in two minutes. Sara, where are the targets heading?" "Targets are heading towards Sergeant McNaught's position using corridor P-12-3, ETA three minutes." "Give me a gas pistol," I said reaching back towards my escorts. "Ah, we're not allowed to give our weapons to anyone other than ship's crew," he muttered. "Then I'll have to take it off your dead body," I said turning around to stare at him. He must have come to the conclusion that the rule was a situational one because he quickly handed it over. About half a minute later, Mike was running down the corridor behind us with her own escort puffing away on her six. "Nice tits, Mike," I greeted her. "Maybe we should start calling you Nips instead of Nibs." "Just about the same time we start calling you Brian the Castrato," she responded peeking around the corner. Okay, maybe we won't. "Thanks for the compliment though. Never thought you guys even noticed I was a girl." "Of course we noticed," I whispered as I came up next to her my head still back and out of sight. "But you know, it's like you were our sister or something." "Not into incest?" she grinned back at me. "Not with my sister anyway," I grinned back. "Good enough," she nodded. "I think they just turned a corner down there, twenty meters. When they get to about five meters I want you to stick that toy around the corner and start spraying the corridor. I'll hit them from below." "You're going to shot at them with your left hand?" I asked. "You can't hit the broad side of a barn shooting left." "Just because you can't jerk-off with your left doesn't mean everybody else is handicapped," she growled. "Now wait for my signal." "I can so," I muttered. "I'm ambidextrous." She just reached over and pounded on my toes through my deck shoe. She was sub-vocalizing to Sara, getting the posit of the targets I assumed when she gave three quick nods and I stuck the pistol around the corner and started shooting for the center blind. I doubt anything from my popgun did anything more than distract them but then that's what it was supposed to do. Mike ripped off three quick rounds from somewhere at my feet and there was an answering scream of intense pain. "Got one," she grunted. "The other fucker ducked into some alcove or something." I poked my head around the corner quickly and could see one down on the deck not moving. The other was huddled up next to the wall behind about twenty centimeters of stanchion sticking out. These things were placed every other room and I have no idea whether they were functional or just for decoration but I could just barely see him until he brought his own piece out and started shooting at us. "Maybe this will punch through that thing," she mused. "Not likely," I said tapping the wall next to me. I'm sure it wasn't metal, some extruded resin more than likely, but pretty solid nonetheless. "You might be able to shoot up the bag with the stuff. Might take out the detonator." "Or I might set it off," she shook her head. "Maybe try ricochet off the one behind him," I offered. "If it punches through then you can go back and hit the one he's behind." "Hmm, you're not as dumb as you look," she grinned. "Cover me." "With everything I have," I said as I poked the gas pistol around the corner and started spraying pellets in his general direction. I heard one shot below me followed by three quick ones and another yelp of pain. "Winged him at least," Mike said. "I'll go down the far wall," I grunted. "Think you can stop his gun now or if he reaches for the bag?" "Not a problem," she nodded as I jumped into the corridor and rolled to the far wall. Mike had also rolled out there with me but stopped lying prone, both hands on the pistol and eyes sighted down the barrel. Moving quickly and I hoped silently, I moved along the wall until I was just on the other side of the stanchion. Quickly peeking around I could see he had taken one under the armpit and was using his free hand to stop the blood flow. His other hand only barely held the gun in nearly useless fingers. The round must have hit a nerve or something. Giving Mike the thumbs up I reached down and plucked the pistol from his fingers before he even knew I was there. "Got ya," I said pointing the pistol at his forehead. He looked up at me with hate-filled eyes — believe me, he didn't even come in the top ten of the people who have looked at me like that — and started fumbling with his jacket trying to get his good hand inside. I didn't even hesitate a second: pop, pop, and he had two holes just above his eyebrows. "Clear," I said standing up. "Let me check the other one." "He's dead," she said when she came up beside me with a self satisfied smirk on her face. "Sternum shot," she pointed to the cleavage between her own breasts. "I expect you won't be talking about my left-handed shooting from now on." "Even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then," I had to say. "Even as small as they are I think I could find your nuts at this range," she responded with narrowed eyes. "Okay," I answered holding my hands up in surrender. "You win. Let's go find the captain." ------- -Lidia- It happened so fast I hardly knew what happened until it was already over. One minute I'm setting tables for the evening rush and the next there's a passenger jumping on a table screaming about a bomb. I'd like to say I reacted in a cool, calm, professional manner but the fact is I froze. Stood there like a frog in the lamplight just waiting to be gigged. If it hadn't been for Brown-eyes I doubt there would have been anything left of me after the bomb exploded. Brown-eyes? Of course I know who he is now, but I didn't then. In fact I don't remember ever seeing him before I was suddenly on my back with him on top of me and I was staring up into the most intense brown-green eyes I have ever seen. I still can't tell you exactly what color they are. Sometimes they're almost all brown, the next green with brown flecks. They seem to change all the time; we call them his "mood" eyes after the jewelry popular in the last century that would change color depending on body temperature. All I know is I forgot everything that was going on around us when I was looking up into them. It was like my soul was being sucked out of my body and into his brown orbs. Yes, I do remember exactly what color they were right then and have since come to realize when they are that color his mood is not exactly joyful. In fact if one is the reason for this particular color it is generally accepted that the best place to be is far outside the visual range of these particular eyes, not that I have ever had to be worried about such things. I have told people this story before and there have been times when there were quiet chuckles or silent innuendos concerning the fact I didn't struggle at all as he lay on me. I've heard it all before: they assumed I was quite used to having men on top of me. I have been cursed with an over-ample bosom since I was fourteen and am tall for a woman with naturally light blonde hair that I like to wear long. For some reason it was assumed I was promiscuous: an easy lay. Well I wasn't. Not that I had been a virgin when I met Danny, but I could count the number of men I had been with on the fingers of one hand. Does that sound promiscuous? Under normal conditions I will admit I would never have tolerated such a violation of my personal space and I have had to demonstrate that more than a few times in the past. I have mentioned before I am taller than normal for a woman, one hundred and eighty-eight centimeters to be exact and I think well proportioned for that height. My brothers — there were four of them before the war, all older — said I looked and moved like a cow but they were my brothers and I suppose they had to say something like that. I miss them for all the abuse they heaped upon me when we were younger. Only Jonas is left and he still does it although now he calls me his "Little Cow." As tall as I am, next to mother I was the shortest one in our family. I still believe I am fairly well proportioned, except for the bosom, but I will admit I'm not what you would call petite and I've always been accepting of that. We grew up in a suburb of Warsaw, the Polish State in the European Union. Although the true country folk would call us city people, my family had a love for the outdoors and spent as much of our time actively. I am proud to say I am a qualified ski instructor, fair mountaineer and have high levels of achievement in several martial arts. The last having been necessary for continued existence in a family that considers wrestling for food at the table nothing more than a Darwinian exercise in the survival of the fittest. Not that mother would have let me starve but in our family there were the quick, the strong and the hungry. I found out early that a knee to the groin or a quick jab to the solar plexus could give me a good head start for a decent seat at the table. I really do miss them. All of which goes to say if Lidia Chojnacki found herself with a man on top of her when she didn't want him there he wouldn't stay there very long and I am not sorry to say he would probably suffer in the removal process. There have been more than a few men that have made the unreasonable assumption that large breasts are an open invitation for groping; such as the headwaiter in the dining room I had first been assigned to. He was lucky modern medicine had the ability to heal broken arms as quickly as they did. Which makes it all the more interesting that as I lay there flat on my back with this complete stranger pressing down on me I made no move to remove him. Not that I would have been able to remove Danny if that is where he really wanted to be, but I didn't know that then. All I do know is staring up into those big brown eyes I knew I was right where I was supposed to be. In fact if it hadn't been for the inconvenient timing of that explosion I would have had my arms and legs wrapped around him dragging him down even tighter onto me. I know it sounds crazy and I'm not going to go into the whole "love at first sight" or "souls merging into one" nonsense. I'll leave that to the poets. But I do know that it only took that second or two and I knew exactly where I needed to be no matter what it took. Of course the explosion interrupted our little interlude. I remember a bright flash and an incredible pressure squeezing me and then darkness for a moment or two. The next thing I remember was Danny's weight pressing me to the deck and I think my heart actually stopped beating momentarily when I thought he was dead. Remarkably I was almost untouched except for the ringing in my ears that was the only thing I could hear. I rolled him off of me and started my inspection. I suppose I should tell you that part of the qualification for becoming a ski instructor is training as a Class II Emergency Medical Technician. I didn't even have to think as my training kicked in and I began to immediately look for heart beat, obstructed breathing and then on to broken bones or other damage. It was quickly apparent why I was reasonably uninjured: this stranger who had thrown himself on top of me had absorbed most of the force as the explosion blew over us. His respiration and heart beat were good although he was unconscious. I checked limbs, ribs and back for obvious breaks and couldn't find any, amazingly enough; the man was built like a bull. He was a bit stocky and if seen dressed he might have even been taken for unfashionably overweight but I could tell from just running my hands over him there wasn't an excess gram of fat to be found anywhere on his body. His back was a mess though. There were numerous cuts, some with small pieces of debris sticking out and one nasty gash on the back of his head but nothing life-threatening. I ripped the back of his shirt open and looked around for something I could use to stanch the bleeding when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up and there was a man kneeling next to me holding something out to me. It was a tube of wound-bond, the kind the military use for quickly closing wounds in battle before the injured could be evacuated back for regular medical attention. That surprised me a little: it wasn't the sort of thing passengers would normally carry around in their pockets and this man was definitely a passenger. "Thank you," I said as I took it from him although I couldn't hear the sound of my own voice. He smiled, tapped his ear and shook his head. I nodded, tapped my own ear and shook my own head to say I understood and couldn't hear anything either. He nodded and pointed to my patient, his eyes asking how he was. I shrugged and wiggled my hand to say so-so. He actually grinned and gave me the universal thumbs up then he tried to stand up and fell backwards on his butt. He looked annoyed at that and started moving his jaw like he was talking to himself under his breath. Since he wasn't in any obvious danger I ignored him and turned back to my savior. I closed the head wound first and was working on the others when I felt a pair of hands pulling me back and I looked up to see two med-techs in their white uniforms. I was surprised to see there were quite a few of them swarming throughout the wreckage along with a good number of security personnel. One med-tech helped me stand and tried to direct me to one of the rolling stretchers behind us. I think I resisted a little; I didn't want to leave the man on the floor. I felt a hypo-spray against my arm and everything started to get fuzzy. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the infirmary. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 10 -Daniel- Waking up in a hospital isn't exactly new to me unfortunately but waking up in one with a dark-haired angel curled up by my side sure was. If you have to wake up in a place like that I heartily recommend it. I was flat on my stomach with Sumalee snuggled in next to me. They must have given me some pain meds because I didn't feel anything but if they'd laid me face down there was probably a reason so I wasn't about to roll over. However the fact that they let someone in here with me was a sign I wasn't at death's door anyway. Thinking if I was well enough to have a bunkmate I was well enough to move a little, I kind of rolled to my side and put my arm around her. She must have been just dozing because it was enough to wake her up. She sighed and looked up at me. "Don't you ever do that again," she scolded with a fake pout. It would have worked better if she hadn't immediately pulled herself up and put a lip-lock on me that had to have every monitor they had attached jumping way off the scale. "Sorry, baby," I said. "I sort of walked in on something. It wasn't my fault." "I know," she signed again. "Saving the ship and all of us." Then she looked at me with narrowed eyes, "And another damsel in distress. Are you planning to make a habit of this? I understand she is very pretty." "I don't remember a whole lot about it," I hedged. No sense in getting into the whole "connection" thing. Hell, I didn't even know her name and it was probably better if it stayed that way. "Well, I have seniority," she said snuggling in again. "There's only one name on the list," I chuckled, "and it's yours, baby." She made a pleased noise as she rubbed her face in my neck. So far that had to be my best wake-up in sickbay yet. "Hey, Boss," I heard from behind me. "Alive yet?" "You know I am, Mike," I sighed. "You've probably been hovering around outside that door just waiting for those tattle-tales to tell you I'm awake." She didn't even bother to deny it. "How'd it all go? Anybody else hurt? How's Weird?" "He's fine," she said coming around to where I could see her. "Very sweet," she snorted. "Anyway, Weird was just knocked a little loopy and had his ears blown but they plugged them up just like yours. Tangos are down and it looks like we got 'em all. NIS is crawling all over the place and wants to see you as soon as you're able. Surprisingly the only deaders are the tangos and we even got one of them alive. A few of the diners got knocked down, hair mussed and that kind of shit but nothing serious. The place was a mess when we got there so I don't know how we got so lucky. Weird tried to tell me all about reflected blast and crap like that but I flat-lined on him when he started spouting the mathematical stuff so if you're really interested you'll have to ask him." She rolled her eyes and I could just see Weird drawing the equations for where the force of the blast went and how it didn't kill more people; I could also see Mike's eyes getting glassy after about two seconds of that; I know mine would have. "Oh yeah," she added brightly. "I had a talk with your girlfriend here and apologized for my mouth overrunning my brain this morning." Wouldn't you know? We'd just saved our lives, the ship and taken down five terrorists and all she cared about was letting me know she had made goody-goody with my girlfriend. Girlfriend? I guess that was right; I certainly couldn't argue with it. I looked down at Sumalee. "Michelle told me what she said," Sumalee nodded. "And while it was bit uncouth I can certainly understand the sentiment behind it. Of course I forgave her immediately." "She's a good kid, Boss," Mike said looking embarrassed. "I shouldn't have said it and I know it. We had a good long talk while you were under sleepy-time. (That's sleep-inducement by the way. Knocks you out and helps accelerate the healing process. That's why my eardrums healed for all practical purposes overnight instead of weeks. I've never been a big fan of it since you're helpless as a baby while out but then I couldn't remember any of it and hadn't had a say in the matter so there's no sense in bitching about it.) I won't be making that mistake again so if you still want to kick my ass you're welcome to it." Another girlfriend, friend-girl, talking to Mike? As they say, nothing good could come of this. "I was thinking more of spanking your ass rather than kicking it," I growled. "Oww, kinky," Mike cooed. "And here I was thinking you wanted to punish me." "You're incorrigible," I muttered disgustedly. "Maybe," Mike responded thoughtfully. "But I'd have to look that up first to make sure. Does this mean you still want to spank me or not?" "I'm afraid I'd cut my hand on your boney ass," I snapped. "I am not too skinny," she huffed and glared at me with fists on her hips. "Daniel," Sumalee chastised me, "Michelle is gorgeous. How can you say she is skinny? She is slim and perfectly formed. Thousands of women pay millions to look like her." "See, boss," Mike smirked and preened. "Slim, not skinny. A svelte jungle cat. Remember?" "Yeah, well, you should have seen her when she was, ah, younger." "Younger!" she shrieked. "Oh, you are going to pay for that, Boss, big time." She stopped and suddenly smiled rather nastily, never a good sign. "In fact right now's a good time to start paying for it. Those dick-heads from the NIS are outside drooling all over the deck wanting to talk to you. How about I let them in so they can rake your flabby old ass over the coals?" "You'd let them at me while I'm convalescing?" I asked in a hurt voice. She just smirked so I guess she would. "Fine Miss Crabby-pants go ahead and show the agents in. By the way do I need a lawyer?" "They didn't say anything when they were talking to us," she shrugged. "Why? You know any?" "I could probably kick over a few rocks," I answered noncommittally. I turned to Sumalee. "Honey, I don't care if you stay but you may hear a few things that you may want to talk to me about later. I've never lied to you but there are a few things about me you don't know." "How can anyone really know everything about someone else," she asked rhetorically. "I promise I will reserve judgment and we will talk later." "Thanks, Baby," I said giving her a squeeze. "All right, you grinning banshee, show them in." Mike winked at Sumalee and left returning only seconds later with two stuffed suits in tow. "Good morning, Captain Mayhem," said the first one sticking his hand out, I took it. "My name is Special Agent Smith, you can call me Joe, and this is Agent Jones." Agent Jones looked like someone had stuck a pineapple up his ass; he didn't offer me his hand. Either Jones was naturally an asshole or they were going to play good-cop bad-cop with me. I had the feeling it wasn't an act. By the way, I knew their real names weren't Smith and Jones. NIS was big on anonymity for it's agents for some reason and provided all of them cover identities. "Back at ya, Joe," I said. "I kind of figured somebody might be coming round to ask some questions. The NIS seems as good as any. You guys got jurisdiction out here?" "We have jurisdiction wherever the hell we want it," Jones barked. Like I said: an asshole. "We want to talk to you, privately." "If you're trying to piss me off you still have a ways to go," I said mildly. "But you're headed in the right direction. This is private enough. Miss Nakpradith is a friend of mine and I don't have anything to say about this that I can't say in front of her. Miss Darlington there knows as much as I do, probably more actually since I was flat on my back and out cold for a part of it." Smith cleared his throat and rolled his eyes at his partner. "First," he began, "I'd like to personally thank you and your friends for what you did. You put yourself in grave danger and without any doubt saved thousands of lives along with a very valuable ship. "Now as far a jurisdiction: this is a US-flagged vessel so we do have jurisdiction regarding criminal matters that occur onboard here regardless of her present location. Is that satisfactory?" Jones snorted disgustedly. "Sounds reasonable to me," I shrugged. "What do you want to know?" "Everything," he smiled. "Starting from the beginning." "Well, okay. I was born a small child in..." this time he rolled his eyes at me. "Hey, the straight line was just too perfect," I said. Getting that out of my system I proceeded to give them the redacted version of what occurred leaving out only the small things like Weird hacking the ships AI and the extent of our involvement with the Brotherhood years earlier. I had a pretty good idea what the others would have told them so my version was probably close enough to make it sound like the truth. After all there were bound to be some differences. Ask ten witnesses about what they'd seen of a common incident and you're probably going to get ten slightly different versions. If you get ten identical versions then you know the story was rehearsed. We were pretty good at making our stories sound just different enough to be believable; we'd done it enough times with our own investigators. I was hoping he wouldn't ask how we knew about the Brotherhood; unfortunately they weren't that stupid. The NIS may be assholes, at least most of them, but they aren't stupid. That was the next question he asked. "Yeah, I've heard of them before," I sighed. "They blew up a ferry my wife was on a few years ago. I spent a long time looking for those shitheads and gathering information on them. That fucking tattoo is indelibly etched on my brain; there's no God-damned way I could forget it." "Did you ever find them?" he asked. He didn't seem surprised at the revelation about my wife. "I found out a lot about them," I admitted. "But until yesterday morning it was like they were all dead or ghosts." I don't think that was a blatant lie but I'd hate to have to answer that question under a truth-drug; not that the military would let anyone within ten meters of me with babble-juice. Heaven only knows what would start to come out if that happened! "The man you murdered in the bar," Jones snapped right after I finished with my fable. "Why didn't you just subdue him? If you're this big-shot super-solider like Agent Smith thinks you are, you should have been able to do that rather than kill him. I'm not convinced your military record is very accurate; it's kind of skimpy for someone who's supposed to have been fighting for ten years and I'm going to be looking into it. I'm thinking you're probably some kind of pansy deserter who bought himself a pardon and had his records falsified. You bet when I find out who did it I'm going to have their ass!" He was partly correct. My service record, the one he would have access to, was complete, official and pure fantasy. If he'd had access to my real record he'd still been reading it even after a day or two. With everything digitalized I'd never seen it but I'm guessing if it were all printed out it'd probably stack up to be over a meter thick. I'd been a busy boy. "Oh, I think that sounds like a wise use of your time," I said with a grin. This talk of desertion didn't bother me all that much but I could tell Mike wasn't all that happy and that's not a good thing. "By all means, follow it right up to the very top! That'll learn 'em. Oh by the way, use the word 'murdered' again and we're done here. You won't be talking to anyone but my lawyer. That was purely self-defense and if the vids didn't convince you of that then you're dumber than a fucking rock. So, either place me under arrest or shut the hell up." "Maybe I'll do just that," he fumed. "No you won't, Sam," Smith frowned shaking his head. So the asshole had a name, Sam. "For one thing there is no evidence that Captain Mayhem did anything other than what was necessary and prudent under the circumstances. That's my judgment and you know damn well any judge would say the same thing. "Secondly, I know you weren't in the military but I was and I can tell you with a fair amount of certainty that looking into his service record would not be a good career move. I'd bet a year's pay you're right; his service record is bogus from the beginning to the end but it's that way for a reason and the people who made it that way aren't going to like you poking into it. Am I right, Captain?" "I can't say anything about that, Special Agent Smith," I smiled. "And I mean that; I can't say anything about that." "Yeah, I thought so," he nodded. "Spent some time in MI (That's Military Intelligence. See, I can be nice. I'll bet you were expecting me to say something to the effect that MI isn't an acronym, it's an oxymoron.) I'm guessing the only truth in the whole record is your name and the fact you were assigned to UN SpecFor." Close enough; I think my height, weight and blood type were also correct. "But that's not the issue here. May I paraphrase your statement? Correct me if I'm wrong, please. You and three of your friends, all ex-SpecFor team members, were on vacation; you by coincidence came into contact with a member of a terrorist group planning to destroy this ship. During a fight you did not initiate you subdued and killed this man. You did not know who he was or that he was a member of said group at the time. One of your team members recognized a tattoo on the dead man that to your knowledge corresponded to a design unique to an organization that had been involved or responsible for the attack that resulted in the death of your wife. You informed the ship's captain of this and by using your military training and the ship's AI were able to identify, track, pursue and neutralize the remaining terrorists. You personally were present when one of these terrorists detonated a bomb in a suicide attack in the dining area becoming injured in the process. Have I got the gist of it?" "Almost dead on," I nodded. "Except the jerk didn't light off the bomb himself; someone else did it for him. We heard the remote detonator activating which is about the only thing that saved our asses." "Is that so?" he said making notes on his portable comp. "That's interesting but I'm not sure if it's important. Anything else?" "Yeah. Have you figured out how they got the stuff onboard?" "Hmm, that's still under investigation but I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I gave you my opinion of how they did it," he mused. "Nothing official and not for public dissemination of course, but it looks like they brought the explosives onboard as base chemicals in the lining of their luggage. Once they were ready, all they had to do was mix them and let them cure for about twelve hours or so. The detonators we're not absolutely sure about yet but I wouldn't be surprised if we find a number of their electronic gadgets were merely shells." "What about the pieces?" I asked. "Pre-positioned in the walls of certain cabins during construction," he frowned. "We've got some work to do on that yet, but we'll find out who, when and how soon enough." "Doesn't sound like it was a spur of the moment thing then," I said stating the obvious. "Looks like we were lucky all around." "I don't believe in luck," he said somberly. "Or coincidences. But I'm also not particularly religious so I'm going to go with lucky coincidence for now. Is there anything else you can tell us? No? Good. Will you be available if we need to talk to you again?" "I'm not going anywhere until they kick me off this tub," I grinned. "Good. Then we'll leave you to yourself for now." He shook my hand again — I didn't even bother to look at Jones — and started to turn. "Ah, Agent Smith," I said. "Yes?" He turned back to me. I took my wallet from where it was lying on the table next to the bed, drew a card out and handed it to him. "We're forming a little group of veterans that you may be interested in joining." "Veterans Benevolent Society," he said reading the card with a smile. "I've heard something about this. And you think your little group would be happy about having an NIS agent as a member?" "I figure it won't be long before we have any number of NIS agents as members," I laughed. "Might as well have one openly. We're not too picky; hell, they let me in!" "I'll think about it," he said sticking the card in a suit pocket. "Good day, Captain Mayhem, Ma'am, Sergeant." "Well, that was fun," I sighed after they'd left. "So what's on the agenda for today? If it has anything to do with shooting, stabbing, fighting or being blown up I think I'll pass this time." "Doc says you can go anytime after you wake up," Mike "It's almost noon so I'm thinking a bite to eat and then the pool. Maybe even a bite to eat at the pool." "Sounds relaxing to me," I said standing up. "You interested, Sumalee? I forgot to ask: are you even available? I don't want you to miss any sleep time if you have to work at 1600." "Captain Stubing has informed me that I am on detached duty for the remainder of your voyage, "She said with a smile. "You and your friends are considered Xanadu VIPs and I am to be your personal concièrge. I can, and will, go with you anywhere you will allow me." "Then the pool it is." I had a feeling this wasn't the time or place to argue with Sumalee whether or not she had to be with me at all, let alone all the time. I certainly enjoyed her company but I'll be damned if I was going to let Stubing or anybody else force her to be there. "Fine," Mike said. "I'll meet you kids out there." "Yes, Momma." "You're going to pay for that too, Boss," she said looking daggers at me. "Hey, you called us 'kids'," I reminded her. "Yeah, well she is a kid and you're just a dirty old man," she fired back then turned to Sumalee. "Don't let those puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips fool you, sweetie. He'll take advantage of you quicker than the taxman grabbing your paycheck. It's been hell keeping his hands off my backsides for the past eighteen years; don't be afraid to smack him upside the head if he starts getting ideas." The lie was so outrageous I couldn't do anything except sit there with my mouth hanging open. "That is good to know," Sumalee said looking thoughtful. "But since it is I who am taking advantage of him, I do not think I will worry about it overly much." "Oh, that's okay," Mike answered. "Use up the old fart and spit him out when you're done don't let him start thinking he's in charge. Damn, next thing you know you'll be waiting on him hand and foot and he'll start thinking he deserves it. Remember, you're not his play toy; you're his concièrge." "But I am his play toy," Sumalee said seductively and scratched her fingernails softly on my upper arm causing me to shiver. "Pardon me while I puke," Mike gagged. "There'll be no living with him now. Fine, spoil him rotten, see if I care. See ya by the pool." "Sumalee, you don't have..." I started to say after Mike left but she stopped me by pressing her fingers over my lips. "I know what you are going to say so don't," she warned. "But..." More fingers this time pinching my lips together. "Captain Stubing offered to release me and the other girls from our contract due to our traumatic experience and send us home," she said without releasing me. "But I refused. I asked him to assign me to you. Concièrge was what he called it." She paused for a moment, ginned, and then continued, "Sex toy was not in the description of duties; I added that." "You are a pushy little thing," I said breaking her hold and gathering her up in my arms. "Pushy bitch is what I said," she mumbled into my chest. Leaning back she looked up and me and smiled. "We must pick up my swimming attire and then yours. We will go to the pool until we are thoroughly exhausted by lying around in the sun and then retire to your cabin for a nap." "I'm not very sleepy," I warned her. "And I am still sore," she laughed. "You will have to take a nap because you will be taking me out to dinner and then dancing after which I will be healed enough to ravage you all night long." "You are a pushy..." I started to say, following her as she pulled me along behind her. " ... Bitch." she finished without looking back. ------- Lounging around in the sun poolside is pretty exhausting but its nice work if you can get it. We'd stopped by her cabin first to pick up her things where I got to meet her roommate, Teresa, who was between rehearsals. She was a pretty little redhead and I have to admit I blushed when she raised her eyebrows and grinned at Sumalee. She didn't seem to be jealous at all. After that we popped up to my cabin where we changed. "Unless you would rather have me naked," she said. I might have said yes but given the miniscule proportions of the alleged swim suit she put on I doubt I would have noticed the difference. I've seen Band-Aids cover more but I wasn't going to complain. From there it was down to the pool. Mike had already grabbed up three loungers for us so I got to be the ugly in between the feminine skin sandwich. I ordered a bunch of burgers and a mound of fries, all on one platter of course. Sumalee ordered her own vegetarian something-or-other but gave me a strange look when I asked for the single plate so I had to tell her about Mike's seeming inability to use one of her own. This of course caused Mike to squawk and words were spoken best not written here. Sumalee thought it was "cute." Normally this would have resulted in a generally unacceptable reaction from Mike but this time she just grinned at the smaller woman as they exchanged knowing looks. I could practically see danger flags popping up all over the place. Contrary to earlier denials Mike proceeded to demolish most of the double helping of fries and a quarter of the burger I wasn't quick enough to scarf down. At least she was eating and I had to admit it showed. Watching Sumalee and Mike climbing out of the pool together when they took a dip to cool off I noticed Mike didn't look nearly as gaunt or boney as I'd remembered. She was still too thin for my taste but nowhere near the concentration camp survivor she'd been only months before. She'd still have to about double her mass to even be considered plump but she was getting some padding in the places it belonged. Even in a dark alley she wouldn't be mistaken for anything except female. I still worried about her but at least I wasn't thinking about manacles and forced feedings anymore. Even more surprising was the fact she only had one drink while we were with her and that was one of those foo-foo things with less alcohol in it than the old antique Zippo lighter I used to carry around with me back during the war. I stuck with water; hell, if Mike was going to slow down her drinking I sure wasn't going to wave one under her nose. I'd rather go dry myself. After burning off at least a dozen calories or so down by the pool, Sumalee and I said goodbye to Mike and headed up to the cabin for the 'fresher and nap. I'm not going to say cuddling is as good as fucking all the time but right then it was perfect. Besides I had a feeling she had plans for later and I'd need to conserve my strength. She almost killed me that first night and I intended to go down fighting. Dinner was formal that evening which I hate but after seeing the little black dress and heels she painted on her body I wasn't about to complain. I just knew that damn thing was specifically made to ensure I was going to walk funny all night. She may have been small and young but after taking one look at her in the thing there was no doubt in my military mind that there was nothing but pure, one-hundred percent woman under it. The food was good, the company better and the conversation lively for the most part and melancholy here and there. She never asked me about my military service like I'd been expecting her to but she did want to talk about Kathy. I told her how we'd met, about my kids and finally about her death. "That is so sad," she sniffed as I wiped a tear from her cheek. "You loved her very much." "Yes I did," I nodded. "I still do. She will always be a part of me no matter where I go or who I meet. She's not just a part of who I was; she's a part of who I am." "Do you think you will ever be able to love again?" she asked looking at me with those big dark eyes. "I think I already do," was all I could say. "You are crazy," she said but she smiled when she said it. "You barely know me." "That's true," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel it. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and if you rather just leave I'll understand but when we first met I felt some sort of connection with you. It's something I haven't felt for a long time and it wasn't just lust." I paused for a second. "Well, not all lust, anyway. You are as pretty and sexy as they come so you can't hold some lust against me. Anyway, I assure you you have no obligations; I'm a big boy. You don't have to let me down easy." "You are an idiot," she stated firmly bringing my hand up to her cheek again to wipe away another tear. "I love you, too. Cannot you see that? But can you have two women in your heart at the same time? Is there room for me in there with your wife?" "I don't think there is a finite amount of love one can have," I said. "She is there beside you, not in place of you. I understand if you feel you're sharing me with someone else and maybe that isn't something you want or can tolerate but it's who I am." "I do not mind sharing," she said with a smile, "so long as I am in there somewhere." I know it seems kind of strange but there wasn't a big scene of kissy-face huggy-bear after that. We'd finally said the words but they were words we'd already known were there so other than holding hands through the rest of the meal — a real pain in the ass for cutting meat, let me tell you — we just continued on as if nothing unusual had happened. ------- Let me tell you right up front: I'm not much of a dancer. Sure I can hold a woman and move around slowly without causing too much damage to her but that's about as far as I go. I like dancing to the old rock-and-roll songs but Kathy used to tell me I looked like someone was electrocuting a fish out on the dance floor. I didn't care; I still did it. I'm pretty sure if I'd have asked the AI unit providing the music in that particular club if they had any old Benetar or Go-Go music it would have fried its circuits so I went along with just doing my best trying not to crush Sumalee under my ponderous peds. Dancing is nothing more than extended foreplay so it wasn't long before I was horny enough to split rails all by myself and even she was starting to breathe a little heavily. We were sitting down cooling off just a bit when the next big shock to my life walked in the door. "Oh, my," Sumalee gasped just a little as her eyes opened wide. "Is not she one of the most impressive women you have ever seen?" I turned around and practically shot off in my pants. It was a woman all right and impressive was a minor understatement. She was tall, really tall although you couldn't quite grasp that unless she walked next to a normal sized woman and then you could see she stood at least a head above them. But that wasn't the first thing that caught the eye, not mine anyway; nor was it the shimmering iridescent gown that clung to her hips and legs like it had been painted on. No, it was the hectare or so of creamy white flesh displayed by the low-cut front. I know it's a guy thing; we shouldn't be so distracted by what are merely fat-storing lactating glands no matter how large, round, smooth, firm ... Where was I? Oh yeah, the woman. Let's suffice it to say they were — she was — impressive. She had long blonde hair flowing down her back although how long it really was I couldn't see from where I was sitting since she was moving towards us. After a second or two I was actually able to tear my eyes away from her cleavage and look at her face. I'm sure you've already guessed that it was my blonde server from the dining room looking like what a vid star could only hope to look like and heading straight towards us with the unerring precision of an AI-guided missile locked on target! She stopped right next to me and looked down as I looked up into her eyes. Somewhere in the back of my head I heard more than felt a snap and suddenly that connection I'd experienced just before the bomb sent me off to la-la land kicked in again! ------- -Lidia- I have never felt so nervous before in my life. Hanging on the side of a mountain with nothing but a thousands meters of air and hard rock below me was nothing compared to this! I almost didn't do it. I knew he was in the ballroom but I came so close to turning around and going back to my safe little cabin as I stood outside the doorway, it actually surprised me when my foot took that first step inside and the rest of me followed without conscious direction on my part. My head was buzzing with everything that had gone on the day before. The sedative they had given me relaxed me all right, relaxed me enough that I didn't wake up until the next morning in a hospital bed. The doctor examining me told me they had put me under induced sleep to repair my broken eardrums but that nothing else seemed to be wrong with me. He said I'd been lucky but I knew it had nothing to do with luck; it was my brown-eyed man who had saved my life and pierced my soul. I tried to find out who he was and how he was but the doctor would only smile and tell me not to worry about it. An NIS agent interviewed me before they would let me leave. At first I was a little frightened; everyone knows about the NIS and what they could do. But he was a nice man who asked his questions politely and only wanted to know what I had seen and if I'd known either the bomber or the man who saved me. "Is he all right?" I blurted out. "Is who all right?" he asked. "The brown— the man who saved me?" "Ah, Mr. Mayhem," he nodded. "Yes, I believe he will be fine. He is still healing under induced sleep but I understand they expect him to fully recover. I understand you had some part in that. You obviously know a little about medicine." I told him about being a ski instructor and EMS Tech. "Who is he? Can I see him? I want to thank him," I babbled. "Well, his name is Daniel Mayhem and I'm sure you do want to thank him," he nodded again. "But I doubt the doctors will want you to disturb him until he is awake. Besides we still have to talk to him first, anyway. It's not proper procedure to have two witnesses to a major crime talking with each other before we can get their statements." "Then when can I?" I really did want to thank him but there was more to it than that if I was going to be truthful. Those eyes did something to me and I had to return to see what it was. "I don't know," he shrugged. "You'll have to see your captain about that. After we're done of course. In fact I think he wants to see you when we're finished so I have just a couple more questions and I'll leave you to him." True to his words he had a couple of inconsequential questions and after thanking me, left. Almost immediately Captain Stubing knocked and entered. "How are you feeling, Miss Chojnacki?" he said coming over and patting my arm. "I wanted to tell you personally how very sorry this happened to you and thank you for going above and beyond your assigned duties to assist an injured passenger." "He saved me!" I practically shouted. "I need— want to see him. I need to thank him. He saved my life." "Yes, well, Daniel is still under and I have the feeling he'll be a bit busy for a while after he wakes up," the captain said scratching his chin absently. "But I'm sure you'll be able to see him later." "Are you sure he's going to be all right?" "Take more than a bomb to kill that son-of-a-bitch," the captain muttered. I'm sure he didn't intend for me to hear that even though he said it with some amount of admiration and not malice. Smiling reassurance he said for me to hear, "I'm positive he'll be just fine. If I was a betting man I'd say he'll be up and around by this afternoon. I'm sure you can see him once everything has settled down. "Now," he cleared his throat. "Naturally you're on limited duty until you feel up to coming back to work or if you feel you can't continue here with us we'll gladly release you from your contract and send you home without prejudice." "I ... I ... I have to think about it, Captain," I stammered. I hadn't even thought of anything else except the brown— Daniel Mayhem and I didn't want to be distracted by anything so trivial right then. "Of course, take your time," he smiled. "You did well last night, Lidia. I'm proud of you." "I didn't do anything," I protested. "I'm not going to argue about this, young lady," he said sternly. "Why don't we grab one of these doctors and see about getting you out of here?" After being released and again being refused permission to seeing my savior I ended up in my cabin wondering what I was going to do next. I have never had much of a compulsive nature but for the first time in my life I felt there was something I had to do and it was eating away at my insides. I had to see him again, as soon as possible. "Ship," I said touching my badge that served as both identification and communicator for crew members the same as the ID bracelets did for the passengers. "Crewmember Chojnacki," the ship answered immediately. "I would like to find a passenger, Daniel Mayhem, please," I said. "Can you tell me where his is now?" "Passenger Mayhem's location is restricted information, Crewmember Chojnacki," it answered promptly. Restricted information? Passenger locations are never restricted, not from the crew! "May I ask the reason for your request?" it surprised me by asking. Why would it care let alone be asking for the reason behind such a request? "Ah, he saved my life last night and I want to thank him," I answered before I realized it. There was a moment of silence almost as if the AI was hesitating before answering which was of course absurd. AI's were so much faster than human beings the seconds it took to answer must be the same as years for us. "Passenger Mayhem is resting at the moment and not receiving calls," it said finally. Somehow it sounded different but I couldn't tell you exactly why I thought so. It sounded more like a Personal Assistant programmed AI than the normal ships AI. Before I could say anything it continued, "Passenger Mayhem has dinner reservations for 1930 in the Pavilion dining room and has requested a table in the Starlight Ballroom for 2100 hours." The Pavilion? The Pavilion was the exclusive dining room available only to Supra-class passengers and definitely not included in the ticket price. The cost of one meal there could easily equal half the normal price of an economy ticket. Also crewmembers were not allowed entry unless assigned duties there even as a guest of a passenger. A plan formed in my mind. A silly plan as I look back on it now but a plan nonetheless. The first step was to make my own reservation for the ship's cosmetic salon. Once that was done it was on to one of the boutiques for a new dress and shoes. I had nothing suitable to wear. After all I was a dining-room server, not one of the pretty pleasure girls who dressed up all the time. The store clerk was pleasant but businesslike. "Date tonight, honey?" she said. "Let's scan your badge and see what your allowance will cover." She had assumed I was a pleasure girl getting ready for an appointment with a client. The ship's prostitutes weren't technically ship's crew but independent contractors and part of their contract was that the ship would provide a clothing allowance for their "working" attire. "I don't have an allowance," I blushed. The pleasure girls were beautiful and elegant; never in a million years would anybody mistake me for one of them. "This is for me." "Oh," she smiled in surprise. "Well in that case congratulations! I hope you catch a rich one. How much do you want to spend, honey? I can get you the crew discount but you know what we have here isn't cheap." "This is what I can spend," I said accessing my ship's account on her hand-comp. "For a dress and shoes. Oh wait, I need some for the salon also." I'd been putting away my salary and didn't spend much but the cruise had just started so there wasn't much. I didn't care; I'd spend it all. "Well, that's not much to work with," she muttered. "Wait, what's this?" She touched a flashing symbol next to my account total. "Well I'll be! I've never seen that before. You're right, honey, you don't have an allowance but you do have a fairly substantial draw authorization directly from the captain's discretionary account. You seeing the captain tonight, honey? Not that it's any of my business." "No," I said blushing even more. "I've met him only once and I don't think he would be very interested in me. No, I'm — meeting — someone else." "Taking care of one of our VIPs?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "That would explain it. Well, in that case let's do you up right." I wanted to correct her, explain what I was really doing but since I didn't know what I was doing myself how could I? The next hour and a half was spent trying on various dresses any of which I thought were far too fine for me but she dismissed for one reason or another until I tried on a silvery shimmery one that made me feel like I was wearing nothing at all. "That's the one!" she announced triumphantly. "If this isn't just perfect for you then I haven't been dressing women to catch men for twenty years." "Dobry Bóg! (Good God!)" I gulped. "I can't wear this!" The woman in the mirror looking back at me looked like a vid star on the carpet heading into an awards ceremony. It fit me like a glove but all I could see were my overlarge breasts sticking out like two balloons. "I look like ... like..." "A woman who is going to get exactly what she wants tonight," the clerk chuckled. "Honey, I've never seen anyone who fit that dress like you do. It was made for you. Most women don't have the tits or figure to pull it off, but you do. He or she won't be able to breathe." "I look like I'm naked!" I hissed. "Honey, if you were naked I'm sure you'd get plenty of looks," she said seriously. "With this on they won't be able to take their eyes off you. If it's a man you want, wear this and I guarantee he's yours." Needless to say, I took it. It was almost 2200 hours and kilometers of pacing before I had worked up enough courage to head up to the Starlight Ballroom. I tried not to notice the looks and outright stares I was getting as I walked that long hallway to the ballroom entrance. The doorman frowned but noticing my badge motioned me through. I looked around after I'd stepped in. The Starlight wasn't that large; it was meant for more intimate, romantic encounters and not the more energetic dancing which could be found elsewhere. In just a few seconds I saw him. I could only see the back of his head but I knew without any doubt it was him. He was sitting down and I started towards him. It's a wonder I didn't run right over anyone that night; my head was fuzzy and it seemed like I was walking in a dream. I was half-way to him when he turned and even though I was much too far away to see them, my own eyes locked on his. I don't remember walking the remaining distance between us but suddenly I was standing next to him and looking down as he looked up. The eyes were different this time and yet exactly the same. I thought it must have been a trick of the light but they looked more green than brown. However that hardly mattered; they were his eyes and I would have known them anywhere in any light or even total darkness. He looked up and those eyes drew out the essence that made me me and took it as his own. No, that's not right; he didn't take anything. I gave it to him. I gave him whatever he wanted, whatever he was willing to take. "Daniel Mayhem," I said huskily and he slowly stood up. I was still looking down at him and in the back of my mind I was calling myself a stupid cow for wearing heels. Men don't like their women to be taller than they are and I would have been taller than him even if I were in my bare feet. "I'm ... I'm here to thank you." I finally pushed out. He didn't say anything; he just stood there looking at me like nobody has ever looked at me before. I swayed towards him. "Daniel," someone interrupted, "do you think you should introduce me to your friend?" I tore my eyes away from the vise his had become and looked over to where the voice came from. Sitting down, legs crossed, eyebrows arched in question but with a slightly bemused smile on her lips was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Suddenly my folly hit me. He was with someone else! How could I have not thought of that? Despair, anger and sorrow rushed through me and I practically swooned. I was a stupid cow! This man could have any woman he wanted. What was I thinking? I gathered myself to run but a hand on my arm stopped me and I turned back to him. "Sumalee," he said. His voice was low although not quite gravely. It washed through me like an afternoon rain on a warm spring day. "I'd like you to meet someone, but I don't know who she is." Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 11 -Lidia- "Oh?" the eyebrows going up again. "I would have sworn you have met before." "Well," he chuckled not releasing my arm. His hand felt warm and powerful; I couldn't have broken away if I had wanted to. "We did meet, but very briefly. Although I understand she did get to see me at my best: flat on my face with junk sticking out of my back. I've been told she even started to patch me up for which I owe her more thanks than I can say. Sumalee, this is the woman who was starting to put me back together after the bomb went off, but unfortunately I don't know her name to thank her properly." "But you saved me!" I protested. The absurdity of him thanking me caused my mind to go blank for a second. "Of course, the other damsel in distress," the tiny woman, Sumalee, he had called her, smiled and jumped up. "Naturally she is gorgeous." "It's in my contract," he rumbled. "All the ladies I rescue have to be gorgeous. It's worked so far." "Oh you," she scoffed. "Sit the poor girl down, Daniel. She looks like she is about to fall. Are you all right? Did they let you of the hospital too soon? I saw what Daniel's back looked like even after the healing; I can only imagine what it was like to be in the middle of that. Do you need a drink?" She waved a hand at a server as ... Daniel ... gently lowered me into a chair. "N—no, I'm fine," I stuttered. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to crawl right out of my chest. "Another one for us, a large glass of water and another of vodka for our friend, straight up," Sumalee said to someone I didn't even bother to look at. "Daniel, we girls need to go freshen up, if you do not mind," I heard her say as she grabbed my hand and pulled me upright. "Try not to rescue any more beautiful women if you can help it." "I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled and I looked back over my shoulder at him as the little oriental doll guided me through the crowd like a little sheepdog herding a reluctant sheep. The 'fresher room was mostly empty when we entered and she didn't hesitate to pull me over to a bench in a far corner and gently but firmly pushed me onto it sitting down next to me afterwards. I glanced up from my hands and down at her. She didn't look angry or pleased; she looked like she was waiting. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I again looked down at my hands. "I didn't know he was ... with anyone." "The dinner reservation should have given you a clue," she mused. "If not the dancing afterwards." "I ... I wasn't thinking," I admitted. "But even if I did I would have assumed he was out with his friends." "So you decided to strike after dinner and when he probably had a few drinks in him." "No! It wasn't anything like that!" I protested but she continued as if she hadn't heard me. "Might have worked," she said as she tapped one immaculately manicured finger against her cheek while looking up at me. "But with that dress I highly doubt any alcohol would have been necessary." "You don't understand," I almost begged. "I just wanted to tell him thank you!" "And if during this pronouncement of thanks you ended up on your back... ?" "I wouldn't..." I started but couldn't continue. I would have been lying and she knew it. "Why not?" she smiled. "That is exactly where I ended up and I am very glad I did." "You?" I blurted. "Very much like you," she nodded. "Although I doubt very much if you heard about it. He saved my life when a crazy gunman started shooting in the lounge I was working." "I heard rumors..." "But not the entire story," she finished. "Yes, I think I know more about it than you do but that can be corrected. You and I have a great deal in common. But that is not the reason I brought you in here. Not exactly, anyway. I wanted to see just how much we had in common. What was that look you two shared when you first approached out table?" "I don't know what you mean..." I stammered. "Yes you do," she smiled sympathetically. "Daniel is very much a man as I well know. Any normal man would have been staring at your very impressive charms out there. In fact I doubt most men would have even known you had a face and I doubt they would have cared. He wasn't looking at your tits, my dear, he was looking into your eyes." "Yes," I hissed in surrender. "Hypnotic are they not?" she said smiling as she leaned back against the wall and crossed her legs. "They draw you in, capture your very soul, drain you of your will, force you to surrender who you are to him." "Yes! I mean, no!" I protested shaking my head vigorously. "He doesn't force you. He allows you. He opens the pathway and leaves it up to you if you want to enter. Surrender? I'm not sure it's really surrender because there was not a battle for what I want to give him. I give it willingly. Willingly!" I paused for a moment before looking straight at her. "I know it sounds strange, maybe even bizarre, but it's like we suddenly had a ... a..." "Connection?" she completed my thought still smiling and rocking one leg on top of the other. "Yes, exactly, a connection. How did you know?" "Because I feel exactly the same way when I look into his eyes," she said sitting upright. "I know it is not surrender; you are right: there was no battle. He never asked for me to give myself to him; he did not have to. There was one time: he was on top of me shielding my body with his. I looked into his eyes and I knew," she snapped her fingers. "Just like that, I knew I was his. I also knew he was mine." "Me, too," I whispered. "But how can that be? One of us has to be wrong. We can't both be his. Well, I suppose we could but how could he be both of ours? I don't think I'm making much sense." "Maybe we are both insane," she grinned. "Because I understand you perfectly." "This is very strange," I sighed shaking my head. "So what do we do now? Fight over him? You are too beautiful for me to compete with that way." "Nonsense," she scoffed. "You are exquisite. Dear Buddha, woman! Just look at yourself: you are every man's dream. Long beautiful legs, wide yet graceful hips and those wonderful breasts; those should be illegal, by the way." "You can have them," I snorted. "I always feel top-heavy, my back hurts and I've have been told may times I look like a cow." "Who told you that?" she said almost angrily. "That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard!" "Well, my brothers mostly," I admitted, then sighed. "But most men just see me as a life support system for a pair of tits. They couldn't care less if I had the intelligence of a rock, but you know how that feels." "Not with these," she answered drolly glancing down at her normally-sized set. "Besides you certainly cannot expect me to take the whining seriously. A fisherwoman does not lay out that much bait unless she expects a bite. You came up here loaded with everything you have to catch that man." "I'll go now," I said softly after closing my eyes. I knew I had to leave; I'm not one to try and steal another woman's man. Still I think a tear leaked out; I didn't know what I was going to do if I didn't see him again. "I think not," she said slowly and my eyes popped open in surprise. She had her head cocked to one side looking up at me with that finger again tapping her cheek. "I believe you when you say there was something between you, some kind of unknown connection, I could see that. What is your name by the way?" "Ah, Lidia, Lidia Chojnacki," I muttered. "Dining-room server." "I am Sumalee Nakpradith, Lidia Chojnacki," she said holding out her hand. "Bartender. I am called Alee by my friends." "Just Lidia," I whispered as I took her tiny, perfect hand in my monstrous paw. "Look at me, Lidia, in my eyes," she commanded and I felt compelled to obey. Her eyes were like black ink wells and I felt the same sense of being drawn into them that I had with him although not as strong. I could sense she was feeling something also but I couldn't tell exactly what it was. I have never felt any overwhelming sexual attraction to a woman before. Of course I have admired beautiful ones, appreciated their grace, their femininity; but never any real desire to bed them. I was more than a little surprised to find my body reacting to hers. I wondered what it would be like to feel her pressed up against me, to caress that perfect brown skin. I don't know how long we sat there looking at each other but finally she released my hand and I had to shake my head to clear it. I noticed she did too. "Interesting," she said leaning back again. "Did you feel that? I certainly did. Not as strong as with Daniel but there was definitely something there." "That was ... strange," I whispered. "Very," she nodded. "I do not believe in magic or any other such nonsense but there was something there besides lust. There was some of that of course," she grinned. "But then I am normally attracted to woman as well as men." "I'm not," I protested softly. "I know. I could see that," she agreed. "So the question is what do we do about this?" "I've already said I would go," I snapped. "And I already said no," she said sitting upright. "For some reason the two of us are drawn to the same man for whatever reason and we feel some of that attraction to each other as well." "I won't steal your man!" I hissed. "Even if I could." "Oh, he is my man all right," she said evenly. "But I am not so sure he is mine alone. "Which may not be such a bad thing," she chuckled sardonically. "It has been almost two days and I still can barely get my legs together." "You aren't suggesting... ?" I sputtered. "I'm not suggesting anything except we go back and find out what our man is up to," she said jumping up and grabbing my hand. As small as she was she was surprisingly strong as she pulled me behind her toward the door. "Undoubtedly he has probably found trouble to get into already. "As for anything else," she said looking back over her shoulder. "We will see what happens." ------- -Daniel- They had been gone for what seemed like a long time and I was getting just a bit nervous, I'll admit. However it did give me time to think which didn't help one little bit, I'll tell you. Of one thing I was sure: Sumalee belonged at my side. I have no idea how I knew this or why I felt like that but it was the one thing I was sure of. She was going to be with me tonight and for as many nights and days as possible if I had to cross through hell to make it happen. For whatever reason she was a part of me and I wouldn't let her go willingly. Now the blonde Amazon ... What the hell was going on there? There was no doubt something happened when I looked into her eyes. Something damned similar to what I felt when I looked into Sumalee's. It was like a line had been drawn between us tying us together in some inexplicable way. I had no idea what was going on and it bothered me ... a lot. Sumalee belonged at my side but something told me so did my blonde serving wench and I didn't even know her damned name! The stuff of teenage fantasies no doubt, but also middle-age nightmares. Being sandwiched between two beautiful women may be a pleasant dream but human nature and reality usually conspire to ensure it's just that: a dream. What was I going to do? I had no fucking idea. I was thinking it was a moot point anyway. Either they had killed each other or more probably they had talked and realized the two-timing bastard wasn't worth the trouble and left. True, I was technically guiltless but as some idiot politician said many years ago: "I've committed adultery in my heart many times..." In this case it wasn't many times and it wasn't actually adultery but if a feeling of lust and longing qualifies, then I'm guilty. If it weren't for Sumalee I just knew I'd be going after my blonde server like a teenager after his first sniff of pussy. There it is: it ain't pretty, but it's the truth. So there I sat wondering just how long I was going to be there before I'd have to admit I'd been dumped and just who and where I was going to grovel to. I had my scotch in hand but don't remember even touching it as I stared out at the dance floor. I refused to stare at the door they had left through. I had some dignity, anyway. Suddenly I felt a pair of lips lightly touch my ear while cool fingers brushed the other side of my neck. I jumped up and whipped around. Okay, so much for dignity but right then I didn't give a shit; they were both standing there. "Hi," I stuttered in my most suave and debonair manner. Hey at least I didn't trip over the chair; don't I get points for that? "Everything all ... ah ... freshened up? You both look gorgeous." "We did nothing except talk, you idiot," Sumalee laughed. "We look exactly as we did when we left." "Well!" I blustered. "You both looked gorgeous when you left so you look gorgeous now." "Very nice," she smiled and caressed my cheek then turned back to the blonde. "I am sure he has his faults but he does know what to say when appropriate." She pulled the tall girl up in front of me. "Daniel, this is Lidia." Lidia, a beautiful name. She blushed and looked down, her hands tightly grasped in front of her. "Hi, Lidia. I'm glad I could finally meet you." She looked up and that connection thing kicked in again like someone throwing the switch on an electrical circuit. I tore my eyes away and looked at Sumalee. Bam, the same thing clicked in with her. What the hell was going on? "Hi, Daniel," a sweet voice said and suddenly my eyes were tracking back to Lidia's. If this kept up I was going to break my neck or at least have whiplash. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life," she continued. "It was my pleasure, I assure you." "Sit down, you two," Sumalee said pushing both of us towards the table. "You here," she pointed to a chair, "and both of us here." She indicated two chairs on the other side of the table. Uh-oh! It looked like an interrogation was going to take place. "We seem to have a little situation here," she began after we all sat down. Double uh-oh. The last time I'd heard those words my team had been dropped into one of the biggest goat-rope, fur-ball fuckups you'd ever hoped to never see. As they say, nothing good could come of this. "There is something going on between the three of us I do not understand and can not explain," she said evenly. "But it is there, nevertheless. Am I correct?" "I ... I can't disagree," I said miserably. "I don't know what's happening, Sumalee. My feelings haven't changed for you one little bit but when I look at ... Lidia ... I get the same ... Hell, I don't even know what to call it. The same feelings, vibrations, desires..." "A connection," she completed for me. I closed my eyes and nodded. "And you, Lidia?" she demanded. My eyes popped open and I saw Lidia nod looking just as miserable as I felt. "Yes," she answered slowly. "I felt it the first time you looked into my eyes in the dining room. But I don't want to..." she said quickly turning to Sumalee. "We'll discuss that in due time," Sumalee interrupted her. "Right now we are talking about what is, not what will be." "What is it, Sumalee?" I asked. "I have no idea," she said throwing up her hands in exasperation. "All I know there is and incredible attraction between you and me; at least for me to you anyway." "You know I feel the same way," I said reaching out to take her hand. "I know, Daniel," she said squeezing my hand. "That is what makes this all so strange. I know you feel the same way about me. "There also seems to be the same attraction between you and Lidia," she continued, "and to a lesser extent between Lidia and myself." "Really?" Leave it to a man to be distracted by that thought. The visual of the tall blonde lying next to the tiny Asian beauty ... Totally inappropriate for the situation! Bad, Mayhem! Bad, Mayhem! Down, boy! "Don't get ahead of yourself, lover," she chuckled. "What? I don't know what you mean," I protested weakly. "What?" Lidia asked sounding confused. "Daniel was fantasizing about the two of us in bed together," Sumalee told her. "I wasn't ... Well, maybe," I admitted pitifully. "I couldn't help myself. You are both so ... so..." "It is all right, Daniel," she patted my hand. "You are only a man. We forgive you." Lidia giggled and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "Now that the boyish silliness is over with for now, back to what we were talking about. Daniel," she continued, "what do you feel when you kiss me?" "I don't remember," I smiled slowly. "Remind me." Smiling she stood up and swayed seductively around the table and sat in my lap. Our lips touched and I could feel the sweetness of her, smelled the scent of her beneath the hint of perfume and I felt myself being sucked down into a whirlpool of emotion I had no desire to escape. After what seemed like forever and an instant, she broke our kiss and looked up at me with love, devotion and pure lust. I wanted to rip that dress off her tiny body and take her right there on the table. Using a lot more willpower than I had, she stood up on wobbly legs and resumed her place on the other side of the table. "I'm not sure I can put that into words," I admitted. "Do not even try," she said huskily. "Now, what do you feel when you kiss Lidia?" "Is this a trick question?" I had to ask. "I've never kissed her." "Lidia, kiss him," Sumalee commanded in a tone that brooked no dissent. "But..." she sputtered nervously. "I don't feel right kissing your boyfriend." "Lidia," she answered in a voice like a drill instructor, "you are old enough to have noticed, that is no boy. Now, kiss him. I take full responsibility for what happens." Lidia stood up timidly and cautiously moved around the table towards me. She looked scared, just a little. I know, I know, you're thinking I should have put a stop to this. It wasn't right. I'd be cheating on a woman I'd just met; well at least I think I was. Is it cheating if she was the one who insisted on it? I get confused. Anyway there was about a snowball's chance in hell that I was going to do anything to stop it. I just sat there mesmerized as she came closer. Yeah she had big jugs and I was excruciatingly aware of them but honestly I wasn't even looking at them. I was looking at her eyes: they burned through me like a laser beam. She stopped just short of my chair and leaned over to give me what she certainly expected to be a brief peck on the lips. I wasn't going to allow that. This might have been the only time I was going to be able to do this and my mind finally aligned with my body and I reached out and pulled her into my lap. She was quite a bit taller than I was so she still had to bend down for our lips to meet. I felt a sort of surrender in her and suddenly there was no hesitation in her kiss. Our lips came together and for me the rest of the world disappeared for a while. It was like the looks we had exchanged but more so. I felt her lean against me and we kind of melted together. For a time there was no telling where one of us started and the other left off. Her arms went around my neck and my hands roamed over that incredibly large soft/hard body. No I didn't grab her tits; at least I don't think I did. Hopefully I would have remembered that. I'm not sure how long it went on but after a while I could feel someone gently tapping my shin and we broke our clench. Sumalee was sitting next to us; it was her shoe tapping me. She was looking at me with a mixture of concern, sadness, lust and resignation. "I guess I have just been replaced," she sighed. "I suppose it is my fault." "Sumalee," I said looking her straight in the eye. The connection clicked immediately and she took a sudden breath in surprise. "I have no idea what the hell is going on here but there is one thing I do know: you could never be replaced in my heart. I want you as much and as badly as I ever did." "Really?" she asked almost stupefied. She shook her head slightly and smiled slightly. "Yes, I can see that. I can feel that. Well, if I am not to be cast aside then I think all three of us have something we need to talk about." She paused momentarily and then leaned towards us almost eagerly. "What did it feel like, kissing Lidia? Was it the same as when you kiss me?" "It was exactly the same," I answered slowly then shook my head. "And completely different. I don't think I have the words to explain it." "Interesting," she mused and sat back, legs crossed, the dangling foot bobbing up and down quickly. I came to find out later she does that when she is thinking deeply, or when she is trying to get my attention which it always does. I glanced at Lidia. Her eyes were glazed and her breathing rapid and shallow. Her arms were still wrapped around my neck. "If I did not know any better I would think you gave her an orgasm," Sumalee smiled arching her eyebrows. "He did," Lidia sighed and tilted her head back down, her lips sought mine. I didn't exactly fight her off. "Stop right there, you two," Sumalee laughed slapping Lidia lightly on the thigh. "I think there is a rule against having sex in the Starlight. Back off, woman; he is only a man. How much do you think he can stand?" Lidia whimpered a little but we both broke apart, reluctantly. "So, what now?" I asked turning towards Sumalee. "What do you want to happen now?" she asked almost expressionless. Gee, what the hell could I tell her? Sumalee, I want to take you and this lovely blonde thing back to my cabin and fuck until neither one of you can walk straight or I'm dead, whichever comes first. Put that way, it didn't sound very romantic. "Well..." "How about you take your ladies dancing," she said standing up and holding out a hand to me. "Off him, Lidia," she ordered. "I go first; I have seniority." With a sigh and a quick peck on the lips she stood up and then sat down in one of the empty chairs. I couldn't help but caress her cheek as I looked into her eyes while reaching out for Sumalee's hand. Somebody was dragged out onto the dance floor but I'm not exactly sure who it was. Let me be up front about this: I am a lousy dancer. I know, it's hard to believe but there are certain things I can do well but then there are others... , let's just say not so well. Dancing is one of those "others." I suppose I can shuffle around holding a woman well enough but trying to do those fancy partner steps that seem to be in fashion today: forget it. Now I can get out on the floor and shake my butt to good old rock-and-roll with the best of them. Of course Kathy had that thing about flopping fish being electrocuted but I assumed that was just jealousy. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.) So as long as I can just hold on and move slowly around the floor I'm at least within my competency limits. It actually isn't such a bad way to spend an evening if the other alternative isn't available right away. "Now, this is what you wanted, is it not?" she asked when we made it to the floor. "Ah, of course it is," I answered after discarding my initial response. "Liar," she grinned and snuggled into my chest. "You do know that dancing is just public foreplay?" she chuckled as we moved around. "It is?" "Oh, yes," she said looking up at me. The differences in our heights made it a bit awkward but I could hunch down a little and her heels helped. Screw it; I can always get another back if I need one. "Why with a little dinner, dancing and romance I have been told a man could very well ... How do you say it? Get lucky?" "I'm already the luckiest man I know of," I whispered looking down into her eyes feeling the wonderful, insane, connection. I hated to fuck up the mood but I had to ask. "Sumalee, what is going on here?" "I do not know, Daniel," she sighed. "But it would appear you have two women to take care of now. You know it is our tradition that if a man saves the life of another he is responsible for them for the rest of his life." "I thought that was a Chinese tradition, not Thai." "I borrowed it," she shrugged. "I am using all my wiles to trap you. You knew that, did you not?" "I was trapped anyway," I chuckled. "But aren't you ... I mean seeing me with Lidia, kissing..." I ground to a halt for a moment until it came out. "Shit, if it had been the other way around and I saw you smooching with another man I'd have..." "You would do what, Daniel?" she asked sweetly. "I'd have killed him and spanked you," I growled. "Hmm, it would almost be worth the body to see what a real spanking is like," she cuddled in close. "But that would annoy the cleaning crew. "Daniel," she said pushing back a little and looking up at me again. "I have no idea why I am not jealous; although I will admit I have never been the clinging type before. Until now that is. When Lidia and I talked I could sense something: we are both tied to you somehow. I will confess I felt some concern when I saw the two of you kissing; I was surprised you did not throw her down on the table and have your way with her right then which would of course have forced me to join in. Very undignified, do you not agree?" "My feelings for you haven't changed even a little, Sumalee," I said trying to absorb it all. "I know, Daniel," she sighed again. "That is what makes it so strange ... and so right. But now I believe it is time for you to dance with your other woman." I hadn't even noticed the music had stopped and another song was getting ready to play. I didn't say anything as I led Sumalee back to the table and held my hand out for Lidia. Dancing with Lidia is completely different than with Sumalee. Talk about role reversals! Of course she's taller than I am to begin with and when you add a few dozen centimeters for heels I was the one looking up this time. Of course I could nuzzle her neck easily and then there were those magnificent mammaries I could practically lay my head on. Well, maybe not quite, but almost. "Hi, there," I said softly. Her arms were around my neck and mine around her waist. "Hi," she answered shyly. "Sumalee says I now have two women. How do you feel about that?" I asked. "I'd say it looks like she is right," she answered with a smile. "If you'll have me, that is." "I'm not sure I could let you go even if you wanted to," I answered honestly. "But with two of you... ?" "Have you ever been with two women, Danny?" she asked. Two? No. Four, yes. Of course the situation and the feelings were entirely different then. "Never with two women," I hedged. "Never with two? Then how many, Danny? Three? Four? Five?" she teased. What the hell? Great, just what I need another fucking mindreader! It would be nice if for just once, — just once, mind you — I could fall in love with a woman who didn't read me like a menu! "Well..." I hesitated then blurted out, "Four! It was four, okay? Just once and it was under rather, ah, strange circumstances." "Oh my," she gasped. "You'll have to tell us all about it someday." She paused and then looked at me nervously. "I've never been ... with another woman before." "You don't have to do anything with either one of us, Lidia," I assured her. "Tonight or ever." "Oh, I will have you tonight, Daniel Mayhem," she said as her arms came from around my neck and her hands came to rest on my cheeks. "You can't get rid of me that easily. If that beautiful little China doll is part of the bargain, then I will deal with it." "She's Thai actually and I couldn't even imagine trying to get rid of you," I said. "And if Sumalee gets a little too forceful — she warned me she had a tendency to do that — then I'll just have to redden that pretty little ass of hers to remind her." "Oh, you'll spank us if we misbehave?" her eyes got big and bright as she asked. I couldn't swear it but I think her breathing got a little faster and shallower also. What is it with women and spankings? I never understood that. I mean the thought of someone lighting up my ass is not what I would consider foreplay but so many of the women I know seem to think it is. I guess we're just wired differently. "Damn right," I growled and she shivered a little. Her arms went back around my neck and if she could have pressed our bodies any closer we could have bought a single ticket to Unidiz instead of two. "Ah, Lidia? I asked Sumalee this also but how can you be so accepting of there being three of us? I mean if it had been another man, I know I couldn't." "I'm happy to hear that, Danny." So again, this was an answer? She was happy that I would be jealous of another man but she didn't seem to have much trouble with me and another woman? I didn't get it; still don't. But then I don't need to; that's what I have them for. "It's simple, Danny," she said, mind reading again. "I am yours; she is yours; therefore we are yours." Simple? My head hurt. I did the only logical thing I could. I gave up and held her close. We danced like that for quite a while trading off partners. Lidia and Sumalee even danced a couple of times just to give the old man a rest. They were good, unlike me. Dancing close together like the girls and I had done would have been pretty much impossible given the even greater height difference but with the more favored partner steps they looked terrific. No, I take that back, they looked fantastic. Even that isn't good enough; they looked hot! If there was a man in that joint without a stiff dick he must have been dancing with another man. I know mine was. After what seemed like forever and no time at all the decision was made: It was time to retire to my cabin. Well, Sumalee made the decision anyway. The girls had just finished dancing and as I stood up when they approached the table Sumalee jumped up, wrapped her legs around my waist and whispered in my ear, "Take us home and fuck us, now!" Well, she did say she was a pushy bitch. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 12 -Lidia- I was nervous, excited and quivering with anticipation. I was no blushing virgin although I had been with only five men before I met Danny and Alee but I felt like this was my first time. It was hard walking down the passageway, not because we'd had too much to drink although Alee and I had split a bottle of champagne between dances and Danny had one or two of those disgusting whisky things he drinks. I have no idea how he can drink that stuff. I took a sip of his while he was dancing with Alee and I felt like I was being burned from the inside out! Vodka feels like cool water compared to that vile stuff! No, it wasn't the drink; however it is difficult to walk while three people are groping and kissing each other. Well, while two women are groping and trying to kiss the same man at the same time anyway. I know I didn't purposefully touch Alee although my hand might have brushed her a few times inadvertently and I'm pretty sure there was a hand on my ass once or twice and unless Danny grew another one, it wasn't his. I know this because his arm was around my waist and his hand was gently caressing the side of my breast while his other one was around Alee's shoulder dipping down to do the same with her. I can't say that I was particularly excited by the prospect of having her in bed with me. Not that it repulsed me in any way; I really didn't think of it one way or another. I have always been very male-oriented and right at that particular time I was thinking of only one male and just how quickly I could get him out of his pretty tuxedo. Alee seemed to me to be almost too beautiful to think of in a sexual way. I know, she isn't what the vids would consider a classic beauty, even for an Asian woman: she's too short, her breasts are too large for her frame and although Danny and I can agree her face is the essence of dreams, it is considered little more than above average to those who claim to define beauty. I heartily second what Danny has to say about that but I won't repeat it here; one should at least pretend to be a lady. She is tiny and slim with just a touch more on top than what would be normally proportional but of course nothing like my cow-like tits. There are times I wish I was built like her but then she says the same about me so I guess nobody is perfect. We give our man variety even if he claims he doesn't need it. At that particular time we had just met so I didn't know about her powerful personality that would grab attention even if she were stuffed in a room filled with plasticized vid starlets. There was also that connection we had both felt; but truthfully it was and still is secondary to the connection we both had for the man walking between us. Somehow we made it to his cabin and through the door. I am normally a rather shy and bashful person. I feel like a giant and a freak most of the time. Men don't usually like women to be larger than they are and I am not only taller but normally heavier than most men. I am certainly no beauty. I'll admit my legs are good although maybe just a touch too muscular, but I think they're okay. My hips are just a bit more than a touch too wide along with my ribcage which is good since my tits are far larger than they should be. The only thing good about having huge tits is that nobody looks at my face. Other than having decent hair and okay eyes, it's too wide and round. As you can tell I am not impressed with my own looks. I suppose it doesn't matter what I think since Danny says I'm one of the most beautiful women he's ever known. In fact he promised to spank me every time he catches me saying unflattering things about myself and he's done it. Alee casually mentioned to him once, after the third time, that maybe it wasn't quite the punishment he thought it was. I'm going to get her back for that! Anyway we had barely made it through the door before Alee was all over Danny, literally ripping off his clothes. Her aggressiveness shocked me for a moment. She had his clothes off and about two seconds later her own before turning that hungry gaze on me. I didn't see it though; I was staring at the man in front of me. He was astounding! Not in the vid star type of way, of course. His face is pleasantly handsome although not pretty-boy beautiful; powerfully masculine is what I call it, which makes him laugh. He says that's a nice way of saying he's ugly as a dirt road which makes me mad and threaten that spankings can go both ways. I don't think that scares him overly much even if he does pretend to surrender immediately. It's probably a good thing. I'd probably bruise my hand and I'm not sure he'd even feel it. In any case he has the kind of face that doesn't make your panties wet from its beauty but when he looks at you there's no doubt it's a man doing the looking. A real man looking at a woman and if that doesn't make your insides flutter, then you're welcome to those smooth-faced pretenders with my blessing. His body doesn't exactly fit the concept of ideal male beauty either. He is built like a brick, solid as a rock. He doesn't taper from those broad shoulders down to lean hips; his torso goes straight down and every centimeter is covered with muscle without a gram of fat anywhere I could see. His legs are just as heavily muscled and looked solid enough to hold up this entire ship if someone could hoist it onto his back. He looked more like a bull than a race horse and made me weak in the knees imagining all that weight pressing down on top of me. His cock, sticking out at rigid attention, is more than adequate, thank you very much. Why do so many women want to know how large his cock is, anyway? It's not like they're going to get a chance to have it; not so long as there is breath in our bodies anyway! I'll tell you a secret I've never told anyone else: yes, I have had a larger one, but never a better one. (I'm sorry Lars; yes, you were hung like a small pony but all you did was make me feel stretched and sore. Danny makes me feel filled and loved.) Alee moved towards me while I was still staring at Danny. I glanced at her and suddenly knew what the sparrow felt like when she looks up and sees the hawk coming for her. There was a predatory lust in her eyes for sure but there was something else also: friendship, kinship, sisterhood? There were many emotions there but lust was the most prominent. I think I shrank back just a little. "It is your turn now," she said huskily. "Our turn to see what it is we have." "Sumalee," Danny commanded and she stopped glancing back at him over her shoulder. "She doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to." "But, Daniel..." she started to argue. SMACK! His hand landed on her tiny bottom none too lightly and she jumped in the air and twirled around to face him. Now everything I'd see of Alee that evening: her aggressiveness, assertiveness and regal dignity, led me to believe I was about to see the mouse attack the bear; I expected to hear her growl. I was half right: she did attack him but not exactly like I'd expected. She flung herself at him but instead of clawing at his eyes she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist and started rubbing herself on his body like a cat marking her territory. "But, Daniel," she mewled into his neck. "She is ours! She is yours! You have to take her! It must be!" "Sumalee," he chided, "we can't take; only she can give. I won't be forcing anyone to do anything here. Do you understand?" He emphasized his point with a much softer pat on her bare bottom and she shivered at his touch. "Yes, Daniel," she nodded, released her hold and slowly slid down to the floor. He smiled and gently kissed her forehead then turned to me and took two steps bringing him directly in front of me. Breathing was getting difficult as I looked down at him. Some people might think it was from a superior position but nobody in that room had any doubt who the true master was. "I mean that, Lidia," he whispered reaching up to softly stroke my cheek. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." If it hadn't been a foregone conclusion that I was his before, that touch would have sealed it. My legs felt boneless and I almost collapsed. "There is nothing you can do to me that I don't want," I forced out. My brain and vocal cords didn't seem to be connecting normally. "I am yours." "Then kiss me," he said and closed the slight distance between us. I bent down a little and closed my eyes as his lips brushed against mine and suddenly my arms were around him and I was kissing back as hard as I could. I heard a moan and realized it was me as I forced my tongue past his lips and into his mouth searching for his. I felt his arms go around me and little lights began to fire off behind my eyes; I heard that moan again. Seconds, minutes, hours later I pulled back slightly to breathe; it was the only reason I would have. I felt cool air on my back and knew he had unfastened my dress; I knew what had to be done. I brought my hands up between us and pushed back slightly, not enough for it to be mistaken as a rejection but just enough to tell him I needed some room between us. Looking down into his eyes I brought one hand up to the dress's shoulder strap ready to take it off. "Let me," he whispered and using both hands he gently pushed the straps off my shoulders and guided them down the side of my body taking the dress with it as it went. The first things exposed of course were my tits. "Wonderful!" he gasped and paused momentarily with my disrobing as he gently kissed each rock-hard nipple. I normally have to wear a bra or at least have some support from my garment that had been impossible with this dress. The next thing he found as he pushed the dress down and over my hips — or should I say he didn't find — were panties. I was afraid they would have shown and given what I'd planned for the evening were superfluous anyway. "Marvelous!" he hissed as he knelt and the dress slid over my hips revealing my mons to him. I didn't completely depilate at that time although I did keep myself neatly trimmed. Of course once I discovered that Danny prefers his women smooth what little I had was gone for good. That first time though I had a very light covering of fur and he leaned forward tenderly pressing his lips to me. I half expected to feel his tongue to slip out and taste me but he didn't that time. It was probably for the best; if he had, there was no way on God's green earth I could have remained standing. As it was I barely stood there with my hands resting lightly on his head doing everything I could not to pull his face tightly against my crotch. He let go and the dress fell the rest of the way to the floor pooling around my feet. Slowly he stood up studying every square centimeter of my body as he did. Finally he was upright and he looked up into my eyes again. "You are magnificent!" he uttered with absolute conviction. Until that very instant I had never felt truly beautiful. Right then I knew I was. I was beautiful because my man said I was. I stepped out of my heels and away from the dress and pressed myself against him as closely as I could. The kiss and the feel of his naked body against mine was the most natural thing I have ever felt; it was what I was born for. He picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me to the bed gently laying me down on my back. I looked up at him and lifted my arms inviting him to lie on top of me. I was surprised and a little hurt when he didn't right away. He just grinned, pushed my legs apart and started kissing my belly working his way down to my drenched slit. "No," I pleaded grabbing his ears and tugging on them. "Not now, please? I need you in me. I need you in me now. Please?" He smiled knowingly and I sighed as he settled in between my out-flung legs and I reached down between us to guide him in. I needn't have bothered; another much smaller hand already had him firmly in its grip rubbing the head of his magnificent male member up and down the lips of my pussy. When it was positioned correctly she withdrew her hand and I looked up into her eyes as she pushed on his ass starting his penetration. She looked satisfied and triumphant. I closed my eyes as he entered me, slowly filling me centimeter by centimeter. I think I orgasmed at least a dozen times, or maybe it was just one long one; I didn't care then and I don't now. All I knew was I could feel him filling me; making me his forever. He took my body and tied our souls. He paused for a moment when his balls rested on the splayed cheeks of my ass as my legs wrapped around his hips crossed at the ankles. I was never going to let him out of me! I'd thought I was in heaven until he started moving inside me then I knew what heaven was really like. "Fuck me!" I moaned. "Please fuck me!" "I will never fuck you, my beautiful Lidia," he whispered in my ear. "I will make love to you, always." He began slowly thrusting but began to pick up the pace until I was screaming. "Our man is inside you," I head Alee whisper in my ear. I whipped my head around and there she was practically nose to nose with me. "He is inside you and soon he will give you the sign of his pleasure. When he does you will truly be his just as I am his," she said as I looked into those huge dark pools of ink. I could only moan and taking one hand off Danny's back blindly reached for hers. She grabbed it and held on tightly as I felt the head of Danny's cock bounce off the entrance to my womb sending ripples of pure pleasure coursing through my body. He began to really pound into me and I could feel my body tensing up getting ready for another climax. Suddenly he thrust in hard and held himself there and I could feel his seed enter me, splashing off my cervix, filling me to overflowing. My body thrashed uncontrollably like I was having a seizure, a bright light flashed behind my eyes and I fainted. I woke up slowly with the feeling of someone gently licking my exposed sex. It felt wonderful although I didn't feel sore at all. I craned my neck and saw a mass of black hair between my legs and I groaned. I'd never had sex with another woman before and still wasn't sure I was comfortable with it but it felt so good, I couldn't move. She was good; I'll give her that, very good! She was gentle and loving and very, very thorough until I moaned with another small but very nice orgasm. I craned my neck again as she lifted her face and grinned at me. Slowly she crawled up my body as our eyes locked together. "Your hips are marvelous," she cooed rubbing her hands over them. "You will give our man many big, beautiful babies." She moved higher and caressed my tits with her tiny hands. "Your breasts are wonderful," she said, the admiration evident in her voice. "They will suckle our children and help them grow big and strong." She abandoned my breasts to my regret and creeped up until she was looking down at me. "Did you enjoy me cleaning his cum out of your cunt?" she said crudely with a malicious little smile. "Just like you will do to me after he has used me for his pleasure." There was a soft smack and Alee groaned and rolled her eyes back over her shoulder. "I mean, if you want to, of course." He must have rewarded her correction with a caress because she closed her eyes and sighed; I think she was actually purring! Suddenly her eyes popped open and her mouth made a tiny oh. "Oh, he's entering me," she sniffed and I could see tiny tears under her eyelashes as she closed them tightly and lowered her head forcing her rear upward obviously to give him better access. "Ah, Buddha," she moaned. "It is so wonderful, so perfect. Oh, Lidia, our Master, our Lord, our man is taking me as he took you!" She buried her face in my neck as I brought my arms up to hold her tightly to me. I lifted my legs and rubbed them against Danny's hairy thighs and I could feel him gently work his way into our little China Doll. I felt no jealousy, only connection as the man who had so thoroughly taken me moments earlier mounted his other woman on top of me. It made me feel like I was a part of their lovemaking. He was making love to two women at once or maybe it was the three of us making love together. "He is ours, we are his," she gasped into my neck as his thrusts became more powerful, more determined. I could imagine his cock moving in and out of her miniature body, splitting it apart as she wailed in ecstasy and fulfillment. "Fail, damn you!" I heard her muffled curse just under my ear. "Fail!" I knew what she meant. She was willing her implant to fail, to allow our man's potent seed to take hold and germinate in her fertile garden. She wanted him to impregnate her. I knew what she meant; I had dreamed it myself as I felt him fill me with his gift. Which was strange actually: I had never thought much about children; especially about having children with a strange man I hardly knew. Certainly I had wanted to have them, someday, but that had always been something for the distant future, not now. Now I felt differently. Now I could feel almost a hollowness in the pit of my stomach; a craving for something I know should be there but never was, a hole in my life waiting to be filled. "It will be," I whispered a promise in her ear and she clung tightly to me with pleasure and longing. "It will be." "Aiieee!" she screamed and dug her fingernails in my shoulder as I felt the thrusting stop and knew he was emptying himself into her. Moments later she collapsed bonelessly on top of me as I heard a faint plop of Danny withdrawing. The emotions of the night combined with the heated sex had drained all of us. With Danny between us Alee and I snuggled in next to him each supported and held by a strong arm. With a few murmurs of love and affection accompanied by a couple of gentle caresses, we were all soon fast asleep. ------- -Daniel- I think I said not that long ago that there was nothing better than waking up with a beautiful woman under your arm. Okay, I was wrong, go ahead, mark your calendar: I'm actually admitting it for once. Waking up with two beautiful women under your arms is better. Way better. Not just twice as good but exponentially better. I guess we'd left the sun shade setting off the window the night before, (What were we thinking?) and the bright midmorning light was streaming in waking me up for sure. As it was it looked like I was the last one to wake up since I could look down and see one blonde head and another black using my chest as a pillow lying nose to nose whispering quietly to each other. "Good morning, ladies," I mumbled. They both craned their necks to look at me and then squealed scooting up to give me good-morning kisses. Yeah there was all kinds of morning breath going around but from my end it tasted wonderful. "I think I need a trip to the 'fresher," I said yawning. "I stink." "You smell manly," Lidia admitted. "Not bad," Sumalee offered. "But we could use one also. You go get yours and we will take one after." "What? No company?" I whined trying to look pathetic. "No hurt-puppy-dog look," Sumalee chided. "If one of us goes in there with you, you will never get out." Okay, I tried hard to find the downside in that. "And if both of you go together you will come out? When?" Lidia blushed and looked down but she smiled just a little so I don't think it embarrassed her too much. "We will be good," Sumalee promised. "I know you're good. That's why I'm wondering how long it will take," I said with a leer. "Off with you, barbaric pillager of women," she laughed shoving me out of bed. (Barbaric pillager of women kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?) So after being banished from my nice soft bed and soft warm women I did my morning duties and just as I finished drying off was unceremoniously pushed out of the 'fresher room by two delightfully naked and giggling nymphs. I was sitting cross-legged on the bed when they came out, Sumalee wearing my tux shirt from the night before and Lidia wearing another of my dress shirts. Where the hell they got them I'm still not sure. I certainly didn't remember them carrying them in but then I wasn't paying much attention to things like that. My heart beat a little faster. (See earlier comments about women wearing men's shirts.) "We need to talk." I immediately knew I'd said the wrong thing when both of their faces went completely blank and Lidia trembled slightly. "Nothing bad, I hope," I hastily continued. "It's just that there is something going on here that's one hell of a lot more than just sex and ... Well damn it, neither one of you know anything about me and I think you should before we go any further." "Oh, is that all," Sumalee sighed with relief. She came over to the bed, crawled up and smacked me hard on the arm. Ouch! "Daniel, you scared me enough I almost peed my panties. Well, if I had any on that is. Do not do that again!" "Sorry," I muttered and looked at Lidia. She looked bemused; obviously she agreed with Sumalee's action. Thank goodness she hadn't done it; I'll bet that girl's punch could hurt! "Is this going to take awhile?" she asked. "If so I'd like to order breakfast; I'm hungry." "I think you had better," Sumalee gave a resigned sigh. "It would appear he wants to talk to us and who knows how long we have to listen before we can get him to fuck us again." I don't think they were taking this seriously. "You're not taking this seriously," I protested. She sighed again. "Daniel, are you a child molester? A wanted criminal? A sexual deviant?" "Ah, no; I don't think so and other than making love to two beautiful women at the same time, no," I answered. I was kind of hoping Lidia had forgotten about that four at once thing. "Now you are just bragging," she laughed. "Seriously, Daniel. We already know what we need to know about you. If you feel compelled to tell us more, we will listen but I doubt it will make any difference." Lidia crawled up on the bed and nodded in agreement. "Well I do feel compelled," I pouted. Here I was being noble: telling them all about my dark, nefarious past and they were treating it like a bored wife listening to her husband spouting statistics about the Buc's new running back. "To begin with," I said turning to Sumalee. "Sumalee Nakpradith, I love you." "Thank you, Daniel," she said softly. "I love you." "Lidia Chojnacki," I said turning to her. "We have just met but I love you too." "And I love you," she said a small tear running down her cheek. "Both of you." "But you should really know who this Daniel Mayhem character is before you hitch your horse behind his wagon so to speak," I said. "You might not think it's so wonderful when you know." I proceeded to tell them everything. About Kathy and our marriage; the war (not enough to get us all thrown in jail, I hoped, but enough to let them know I wasn't exactly the stainless-steel hero like they saw in the vids). I told them about my team and what they meant to me; Kathy's death and the fact I did some unpleasant things to the people who'd been responsible for it. I told them about the wasted years after that and even about Tinker Bell and Cynthia; Tink's rescue and my little problems with the SA cartels. I even told them about my little vacation after Cynthia although I did kind of gloss over some parts, like the four women and one bed thing. Shit, I hardly remembered that anyway so it didn't count. Right? Their reaction wasn't quite what I'd expected. "The stupid whore did what to you?" Sumalee screamed. I'm pretty sure she was talking about Cynthia. "I'm so sorry about your wife," Lidia sniffed and then immediately asked. "You really know Antigua Delmar? Can I meet her? I just love everything she does!" "Okay, I'm confused," I admitted shaking my head. To Sumalee, "I assume you're talking about Cynthia Delmar; don't bother. Yeah it hurt but looking back I think it was mostly lust on my part and it was only lust on her part. It happened; it's over. All done." Back to Lidia. "Thank you. Kathy was very special to me and she will always be in my heart but she's gone and I'm finally learning to live with that. I'm finding out to my surprise that I can have other people in my heart just as special. It's taken me awhile, but then I'm a slow learner." "It is good that it is over but that bitch hurt you," Sumalee still fumed. "That makes me mad! How could she treat you that way?" "Alee," Lidia said reaching over and patting her thigh. Alee? "If she wasn't such a stupid bitch we wouldn't be here with Danny now. We should be thanking her for being such a dumb cunt." This was my sweet Lidia? Where did this language come from? She hadn't even met Mike yet! "Alee?" I blurted. "That is what my family and friends call me, Daniel." Sumalee — Alee — said looking at me with a shy smile. "Ah, you never told me," I muttered. "It's beautiful. I like it, Alee." "It never came up," she said. "Besides, Sumalee seemed more appropriate when you had me bent over the bed cramming your tree trunk into my poor little body." Have you ever noticed that women can be as crude if not cruder than men? It kind of surprises you sometimes but it's true. I think I blushed; I know Lidia giggled. "Okay," I answered slowly. "But what about the other stuff? The war? The cartel ... all that? If fact just hearing me say all this makes me think being close to me is a rather unhealthy place to be." "Nonsense!" Alee scoffed. Alee, I really do like the sound of that although Sumalee is just as nice. "Safe? Ha! Where would Lidia and I be right now if you were not onboard this ship beside us? Dead! Dead is where we would be! There are no safe places, Daniel, just places that may be momentarily safer than others. By your side is about the safest place I could imagine and even if it is not it is a risk I am more than willing to take." "Me, too," Lidia nodded vigorously. "Besides, it is not your place to decide where we will be safer," Alee said getting up on her hands and knees and moving slowly towards me like a cat stalking a mouse. "Unless you intend to send us away." "I ... uh, don't think I'm strong enough for that," I admitted. Suddenly I was hit from both sides and bowled over onto my back with two soft, squirming women doing their best to cover every square centimeter of my body with theirs and my face with kisses. I fought back of course but was overwhelmed. "No more talk of that right now," Alee said when we came up for air. "What shall we do today? Besides that," she laughed and slapped my arm when I gave her my best leer. "Oh," Lidia gasped. "I wonder if I should be on duty?" "Did not the captain tell you you were off duty for a few days?" Alee asked. "Well, he said something about limited duty," she admitted. "But I don't know what that means. I suppose I should call the head steward; he would know." She had a slight frown when she mentioned the head steward; I wondered if she had some kind of history with him. "Bah," Alee huffed and jumped up and rushed over to where her dress lay from the night before. She came back carrying her badge and crawled up on the bed sitting crossed-legged next to us. "Ship," she said as she touched it. "Yes, Crewmember Nakpradith," came the immediate response. "How may I help you?" "Is Captain Stubing available? I have a question for him." "Please hold. Query being forwarded," came her answer. "Stubing here," Stubing's voice answered after just a few seconds and Lidia's eyes got big and round. "No problems with our guest I hope." "None at all, Captain," Alee said cheerfully as she grinned at us. "He is behaving himself quite well, thank you. However I do have question concerning Crewmember Chojnacki's status. It seems I require some assistance keeping our guest under control and I was wondering if it would be possible to have her assigned to him, also?" She winked at us and Lidia blushed and tried to hide her head in my shoulder. "Just how many of my female crew does he intend to abscond with, anyway?" came the gruff reply. "As it happens I personally placed Crewmember Chojnacki on limited duty indefinitely but if that incident she was involved in impaired her judgment to the extent she wishes to spend her time with that disreputable cad, that is her prerogative, and yours of course." "Hey," I piped in. Disreputable cad indeed! I had to take offense to that! My reputation was impeccable; it just happened to be a bad one. Alee giggled and slapped me softly. "I suppose with two of you watching him the rest of the passengers would be safer," Stubing mused. "This is a sacrifice over and above the call of duty Crewmember and as captain of the Xanadu I want to personally thank you for it. Just be gentle with the old bastard; we don't want him dying until after he leaves the ship." "Old bastard?" I shouted. "Look who's talking, you fucking fossil!" "I'm sorry, Crewmember Nakpradith, you must have the vid on; I thought I heard something." I think that prick was enjoying himself as much as Alee was. "Speaking of keeping our guest occupied: do you have him scheduled for dinner tonight?" "We were just discussing that, Captain," she said. "I was going to vote for the Pavilion again — last night was yummy — but nothing has been settled." "If you'd rather the Pavilion I certainly understand, but I was going to invite the two of you — three now I suppose — to dine at the Captain's table tonight. I have positive responses from his other three companions and was hoping to make it complete." "Of course we will accept your gracious invitation, Captain," she said immediately. "Very good; 2000 hours, you know where it is," came his reply. "Will there be anything else?" "No, sir, that was all." "Good. Let me know if he starts to get restless; I'll start ordering lifeboat drills. Stubing out." The badge clicked indicating the communication link was severed. "That was the captain?" Lidia gasped in awe. "Yes, a very nice man, but then you met him already," Alee noted. "You ate in the Pavilion?" was her next question. "I thought we weren't allowed in there, even the..." She was probably going to say even the prostitutes weren't allowed in that dining room. "Rules do not apply to our man," Alee smiled and stretched out beside me. "Do you know everything that he and his people have done over the past few days?" "Some, but I'm guessing not all," Lidia admitted. "Then we will tell you all about it over breakfast. But right now I believe we have just enough time before it gets here to make sure he keeps from getting restless." Her hand went straight for my shorts and breakfast was cold and sitting outside the door before we were done. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 13 -Daniel- Okay, I'll admit it: life could be a lot worse. The next couple of days were pretty much ideal, in fact. I got to see a whole lot more of the ship than I'd first anticipated. The dining rooms and bars were nice but nothing special for the most part; you've seen one you've seen them all. The shows were fun I'll admit; we got to see Teresa dance in her show a couple of times and in my inexpert opinion she was pretty good. They all were. I even got to meet the whole dance troupe backstage one evening which was interesting but from the way they fawned over me you'd of thought I was Antigua Delmar showing up unannounced to a teenager's slumber party. Actually it wasn't just the dancers. Nothing had ever been officially announced other than a brief shipwide message alluding to a terrorist attack being foiled by the ship's security. Nothing was ever mentioned about me or my team which made me happy; publicity isn't something I have any desire for. I think a couple of the vid stations were tipped off about NIS being flown out to us and sent out their own crews; in fact one was already onboard which kind of surprised me. I asked Stubing about that and all I got was something about this being the maiden voyage and that their line did want as much publicity as they could get. Sounded reasonable to me. I think the crews got a few interviews with a some of the security guys and the captain although I don't think any of the ones interviewed were from the six that actually "helped" Mike and Brian on the takedowns. They played it pretty well and since no passengers or crew were killed the newshounds lost interest fairly quickly. Of course they got nada from the NIS which is pretty much standard. They don't talk to anyone about anything until there are indictments and even then not much. I expected that in a couple of months there would be a small announcement buried in the NIS's weekly news release about the indictment of our lone survivor, but then again maybe not. They may wait until the rest of his buddies were rounded up before they did that. I didn't find it terribly interesting either way. Strangely, I found the intense hatred for The Brotherhood I'd kept alive inside me for so many years didn't burn so bright anymore. It didn't bring Kathy back and for now I was going to let the cops do their thing. That isn't to say I wouldn't kill every single one of the bastards that happen to stumble across my path but I wasn't going hunting this time. Anyway it'll probably come as no surprise to anyone who's worked in a tight-knit community like a ship's crew tends to form that every single crewmember seemed to know who we were and what we'd done. Nothing was ever said directly but I sure got a lot of spontaneous thank-yous from the crew that probably mystified any of my fellow passengers that happen to overhear. Needless to say the service was great and even with two drop-dead gorgeous women hanging on my arm I still got more offers for some special cuddle time than I would have believed possible. I am happy to say it didn't distress me one bit to politely turn all of them down. I know Brian got tapped a few times and my understanding is even Weird was abducted by an indeterminate number of dancers one night and forced to performs countless acts of unspeakably hideous sexual acts. There was a rumor going around — spread maliciously I understand by one Sergeant Michelle Darlington, UN, SpecFor, (ret.) — that the technical problems causing the cancellation of one of the shows the next night weren't technical at all but medical. It seems it's difficult to dance well when you can't bring your legs together. I also heard talk about having to have smiles surgically removed; some of the dance numbers are rather somber, you know. Of course that was all just rumor: scandalous, salacious rumor. Not that I would be all that surprised if some of it weren't true. Weird's kind of a funny guy but I can tell you this: If a woman or women can get and hold his attention she going to know it's been got. Weird doesn't do a lot of catting around but when he does he can leave a wake of well used and very satisfied ladies. Getting his attention has always been the problem. Mike I don't know about. She seemed to be perfectly content just hanging with the three of us although there always seemed to be two or three male crewmembers sniffing around her when she did. I think she partook of that well a few times herself; at least I hope she did. Mike's always enjoyed sex so I hoped she enjoyed herself often. I never had a problem with her spreading it around as much as she wanted; the problem came with some of the who's she spread it around with when she was on a bender. Too many of those just weren't suitable for her. But amazingly enough — considering the booze was free — she hadn't gone on one since that first night. Oh, she had a drink or two and even got a little tipsy once or twice but not dead drunk, bust-up-a-bar drunk. I was vacillating between worrying about this change and being ecstatic over it. I decided to stick with ecstatic. She was eating (still off my plate most of the time, but the girls were very tolerant) not drinking so much and appeared to be enjoying herself. If I'd of known a sea cruise would have helped this much I'd have chained her to a mast and sent her out years earlier. Funny thing was she always told me she hated going to sea and never wanted to help on one of my charters which was probably a good thing. The thought of Mike and paying passengers mixing gave me shudders. Anyhow we were lounging around a pool one afternoon when this sharply dressed crewmember approached us and gave me a gold-colored envelope without a word. I tried to ask him what the hell it was but he just smiled and ignored me. Then he gave Mike one that looked exactly like mine before striding away. "What is it, Daniel?" Alee asked pushing her sunshades back on her forehead. "Beats the shit out of me," I shrugged turning it over a couple of times. The only thing on it was my name in what looked like hand-lettered calligraphy. "You got any idea what it is, Mike?" "You could always open it, Boss," she answered. She'd done exactly that with hers and was reading the card it contained. "But I don't think it's going to answer your question." Grumbling I expended the energy and opened the damned envelope. "What is it, Danny?" Lidia whispered craning her neck to look at it herself. "It's an invitation for me and two guests to attend a special event tonight," I said puzzled. "What event?" Alee then asked. "Doesn't say," I shrugged and handed it to her. "You two have any ideas?" "No," she shook her head and handed it to Lidia. "Me either, " Lidia added. "I'd heard there was something special being planned for the maiden voyage but it's been real secret. I don't know what it is." "Well, do you two want to go?" I asked. "Of course we do, Daniel," Alee admonished. "Something this mysterious must be investigated. Do not you agree, Lidia?" "Oh, without a doubt," Lidia nodded then frowned. "But what should we wear? It doesn't say what it's all about. Is it casual or formal?" "Wear whatever the hell you want," I prompted. "We're on vacation. If it doesn't tell you, then it can't be very important." "You are on vacation," Alee said pushing her sun shades back down and wiggling down into the lounger spreading her legs to let a little more sun on those beautiful thighs. "We are working very diligently to protect our ship from a certain restless piratical barbarian with a disreputable reputation." "And doing a damn good job of it I might add," I said with admiration. "But this is important, Danny!" Lidia protested. "If it's formal I have nothing to wear!" "What about that dress you had on last night?" I asked. Yeah, I already knew the answer; I have been married before, don't forget. Still the answer amazed and astounded me; I had to hear it again. "What? That old thing?" she scoffed. "Besides I wore it last night. I couldn't possibly wear it again tonight." See? I knew it almost word for word. I know you guys don't understand it;, I don't understand it. The fact is any male who can't understand the big deal about wearing his underwear two or three days in a row, (most of us) will never understand this logic, so don't even bother trying. This is one of those times you simply can't win. Let me repeat that: You can't win! Do the only thing possible: Give up and shut up. "I suppose I could wear that dress from the other night," she mused. "I still have that little black one," Alee added. "It should work. It's a classic." "I don't think so," I said making a big deal out of studying the invitation. "I thought you liked that dress!" both of my ladies said at exactly the same moment. With the same tone of aggravation I might add. "Oh, like doesn't even come close," I said springing my trap. "But this thing doesn't mention anything about a riot and if either of you wear those things tonight there is going to be a riot, I can guarantee you." Have you ever been assaulted from both sides by beautiful women doing their best to kiss every square centimeter of your face while giggling? Didn't happen to me all that much either but I'd recommend it. "You are such a bastard," Alee cooed on my left while Lidia gently nibbled on my right ear. "You're right," Mike agreed from somewhere out of eyesight. "I don't care what his birth certificate says, he is a bastard. You know what, girls? For being such a prick he can buy us all new dresses for tonight. That'll teach him some manners." "We can't do that, Michelle," Lidia said turning her head towards the noise and sighing. "Dresses onboard are very expensive. We'll find something else." "What? Didn't moneybags tell you? He's loaded. He can afford to buy his harem and favorite sergeant a dress or two," she scoffed. "We did not know, Daniel," Alee turned towards me her eyes wide. "We just assumed you were a retired military officer; not that it mattered to either of us..." "Naw," Mike interrupted. "He's got New Dollars coming out his ass. Owns his own charter service back in Tampa plus the first nickel he ever stole. Shit, he didn't even buy these tickets. We got 'em from Tinker Bell." "I am not 'loaded, '" I protested. "I'm just comfortable." "Yeah right," she snorted. "The only thing you spend money on is that stupid bike, booze and legal bills. Well, my legal bills mostly." She actually sounded a little embarrassed to admit that. "And who is this 'Tinker Bell, ' Daniel?" Alee asked, her head swiveling around to lock on me like a tracker satellite. "That would be Antigua," I said quickly. "Remember I said we helped her out of a bit of a jam? We call her Tinker Bell because she looks like that cartoon fairy. This was just her way of thanking us. Mike! You're just trying to get me in trouble now!" "Sure am, Boss," she grinned. "Is it working?" "I hope not," I grumped. "And what do you mean buy a dress for my favorite sergeant? How do you know you're my favorite?" "Great legs, cute ass, remember?" she teased. "Besides I doubt the guys would wear one if you bought it for them. They got this macho thing going on," she said as an aside to the girls. "Antigua Delmar bought you these tickets?" Lidia shrieked. "You really know her? She bought you these tickets?" "I told you..." I started. "Sure we know the kid," Mike interrupted again. "Talk to her all the time. Haven't seen her much since her tour started but I hear from her every day or so. Hang around long enough and I'm sure she'll show up. I guess being a superstar ain't all it's cracked up to be. She gets really bored so she hangs with us now and then." By then I was pretty sure Lidia was hyperventilating and I was wondering if I needed to call for a med-tech. "Settle down, girl," Mike said putting her hand on Lidia's shoulder. "Tink's a good kid but it ain't like she pisses sweetwater or shits gold. Well, maybe she does shit gold; she makes old Midas here look like a pauper. Anyway like I said she's a good kid. Now let's go spend an obscene amount of Methuselah's hoard. I know just the place; scoped it out yesterday." "We cannot take your money," Alee said softly as she turned to me and placed her hand lightly on my arm. "We are not with you for that reason." "Are you part of my harem?" I asked arching my brows questioningly. "I suppose I am," she smiled gently. "Then everything I have is yours," I said meaningfully. "I love you, Daniel." "And I love you, my beautiful little Thailand princess," I answered. "Now get going before Mike starts buying things at random just to piss me off." "Does this mean I'm a kept woman?" Lidia clapped and jumped up. "How wonderful! My brothers would be so proud! They always said I was good for nothing except factory labor or farmhand." "Think you can keep out of trouble, Boss?" Mike touched me lightly on the shoulder. "Think so," I said looking around at the clear blue sky and blue ocean. "I understand they've segregated the terrorists and Vencoms to their own section on the other side of the pool. If they don't bother me I won't bother them." "Keep it that way, Boss," she nodded and after a couple of kisses all three scampered away to do untold damage to my credit record. But then who gives a shit? I thought watching their asses as they moved away from me. Money was either there or it wasn't and if my money made those three happy then it was worth spending. I lazed around for a while and was beginning to think it was about time for a beer when Brian flopped down in the lounge next to me with a huge sigh. "Christ!" he said letting out another sigh. "I don't know how you do it, Captain." "Do what?" "Two women night after night," he groaned. "I feel like I'm a hundred years old." "Out of practice, pansy-boy?" "I didn't think so but now I'm not so sure," he admitted. "I need a night off; this is going to kill me. Is there any way to put the word out to the crew that sex is not the only way to say thank you?" "Don't bother me with your petty problems. I just sent three women out on a shopping expedition," I smiled and leaned back. I signaled for a server and ordered a beer for each of us. She was a pretty thing and had a smile for me but looked at Brian like she was a lioness, he was a zebra and his stripes looked like a target. "The sex is okay," he continued, "but it'd be nice if there were some feelings along with it." "You're getting old, Brian," I commented. "By the way what are you doing down here?" "Watching your back while Mike is off doing whatever it is she's doing," he said leaning back himself. "I don't need a babysitter," I frowned. "That's what I said," he admitted. "But she said she'd kick my ass if I didn't get down here ASAP. Since she can do it I got." "Well we'll take care of that right away..." I fumed. "Captain," he looked over and said seriously, "Don't say anything." "Brian, there isn't any reason for someone to be watching my ass any time let alone all the time," I sighed. "Maybe," he admitted. "But Captain, when that bomb knocked you and Weird down it scared the shit out of her. Concerned all of us I'll admit but she just about flipped out completely. "Now me and the boys, we don't know exactly what the hell is going on with you two..." "Nothing, I swear!" "Not sex, we know that," he continued. "But it's not nothing. Look, you noticed she's been doing a lot better lately? Sure you have. You know we've been just as concerned about her as you've been for a long time and right now is the first time in a long time we haven't been thinking about locking her up for her own good. You know what that would do to her." Yeah, it would kill her. "So right now she's got it into her head you need a bodyguard and she's appointed herself. Not that we think it's all that crazy an idea what with the cartels and all sniffing around. But before you say anything, let me say my piece: We're thinking maybe you should let her do her thing here. It ain't hurting anybody and maybe after a while she'll calm down and cool it." "Well," I grumbled, "I don't think I need a shadow. I don't need someone following me around." "How will you notice the difference?" he laughed. "It's like she's tied to your shoes anyway. You eat and she shits it out." "You and the boys, eh?" I grunted. "Yeah, me and the boys," he nodded. "We love that little screwed up bitch and this is the first positive thing we've seen in a long time. Hey, isn't Sumalee some kind of head-shrink? Why don't you ask her what she thinks?" "I'll have to ask both of them," I sighed. "This will affect them as much as does me." "No problem, Cap," he said settling down into the lounge. "We can't ask for more than that." + + + "Still no idea what this is all about?" I whispered as we strolled into the theater. It was huge; had to hold five-thousand or more. "Just rumors," Alee whispered back. "Something about a big star doing a special show. Supposedly a big transport landed this afternoon with Very Important People and such but nobody really knows what is going on." "It is exciting though," Lidia giggled from my other side. I don't know how much their outfits cost me but I can tell you it was worth every centime. Every single fucking centime! Their gowns were somewhat more modest than the ones they wore on our first night but modest doesn't mean they weren't any less sexy. I felt like a prince walking arm-in-arm with these two, not that anyone would notice me. Even Mike cleaned up pretty well. Hers wasn't quite so modest and her long legs flashed with every step from a slit on each side that I swear went all the way up to her armpits. She did seem happy though and remembering what Brian had said that afternoon I kept my mouth shut other than to compliment her on how pretty she looked. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough," I muttered and showed my invitation to an usher. I was expecting we'd just grab any seat we could since there wasn't any assigned seating visible on the thing but I was mistaken. She waved a scanner over it, blinked twice and escorted us down to the front row, dead center. Brian and Weird were already there. Of course Weird was doing something on his perscomp but stopped long enough to say hi. "Tell him he has to turn that thing off during the performance or I'm going to take it away from him," I leaned out and whispered to Brian over Lidia. They were to the right of her as she sat next to me while Alee and Mike were to my left. "I think he's trying to make goody-goody with Olivia," he whispered back. "I think she got jealous of his little orgy last night." The concept of an AI becoming jealous was so ridiculous I had to stifle a laugh. "She is not jealous," Weird frowned. "She just needs some reassurance is all." "She'd flip this tub over and spread her pontoons for you if she could," Brian jabbed. This started a round of bickering that made me want to smack both of them. Kids! Interestingly enough, Lidia did just that. Without even looking her arm snaked out and she popped them both with her open palm right in the back of the head. "Ouch!" they said almost together. "Shut up and be good," she said sternly. I just about peed my pants. There they were at least ten years older than she was, highly decorated and dangerous combat veterans, and momma had just shushed them up. They sulked of course but when I looked over at Lidia she just looked back at me and smiled. "I had brothers." Not having had any I didn't get it entirely but I did get the gist of it. I didn't have time to say anything because the lights lowered and a man who looked like a game-show host walked out on stage and struck a pose. He had more bright white teeth than I think was humanly possible and looked like he was made of plastic but I doubted we were here to see him so I just ignored it. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced brightly. I don't think his lips moved. "The Belmont Lines along with the captain and crew of Xanadu welcome you to the Palace Theater! We have a super special surprise for you tonight in honor of this marvelous ship's maiden voyage! Tonight for your entertainment only we present the number one recording star on three continents! Coming to us in the middle of her sold out, fifty-three city tour; you know her! You love her! The one! The only! Antigua Delmar!" "Well fuck me," I heard Mike chuckle as we all stood up and clapped. I would have known something was going on if I'd been paying attention. The theater was filled with the younger crowd with just a spattering of us old farts. A crowd hand-picked to give her one hell of a welcome and they did. I was wondering if there was a warranty on my new eardrums considering the high-pitched screeching bombarding me not the least of which was coming from my darling Lidia who grabbed my arm and violently shook me as she deafened my right ear. She was babbling something in Polish which I took to mean something like OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! and I wondered if there was a bottle of oxygen somewhere handy in case she passed out from not breathing. It was somewhat amusing but I didn't want her to hurt herself if she passed out. The music started low and built up while the holographic set I recognized from the tune-up concert I'd witnessed slowly appeared. Artificial fog started to coalesce and Tink rose out of the middle of it just as her part of the song started. She was gorgeous, of course. Looking sweet as candy and sounding like a dream as she slowly glided towards the front of the stage. I actually felt a tear in my eye. I'd missed the little scamp; holo-vids just weren't the same as seeing her in person. I was hoping we'd get a chance to say hi after the show but that was kind of stupid to even think about. Of course we would. She'd set this whole thing up to be a surprise. There was no way she'd leave without getting a chance to do the nyah-nyah in my face personally. I think I've mentioned it before but I'm not a big fan of her style of music;: too slow and flowery for my taste. But I could listen to her voice from now till the crack of doom; it really is that good. She came right to the edge of the stage and during a short break in her singing looked down, pointed at me and laughed. What could I do? I gave her the thumbs up and grinned. She'd got me good and there was no denying it. She did about six or seven songs from her new comp and a few of her really big hits when the music died and grinning she waved for everybody to quiet down. Ever try to quiet down a theater filled with teenagers? It worked, sort of. She came back to the edge of the stage and started talking. "Hellooo, Xanadu!" she yelled and the noise level quickly passed the pain threshold once again. "I hope you're having fun! Thanks for having me, this is so kold! I mean icy!" Where are ear protectors when you really need them? "As you know I'm right in the middle of a tour now but I wanted to come here and surprise a person that's very special to me. Did it work, Danny?" she asked looking down at me with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen. "But that's not the only surprise I have for you tonight," she said looking back up at the audience. "I have some new material I've been playing with and I'd like to try it out tonight. Well, some of it is really new but some of it is really old because my special guy is really old." That hurt; that really hurt. It was true but it still hurt. "You may like it, you may not, but let's try to have some fun with it," she said and suddenly a beat started and I could swear it was a real stick man playing on the skins! She turned around and walked back into the fog, reached up and suddenly the voluminous gown she had been wearing dropped to the stage and there she stood in a skin-tight cat suit. A toss of the head and all the beautiful blonde hair seemed to come out of its perfectly styled hairdo and it was wild and free. She looked back over her shoulder and grinned, turned and strutted towards the front of the stage again as an honest-to-God drum set rose through the stage along with a guitar player, a bass and someone on keyboards. It was an actual band and they were actually playing! She walked directly towards us. No, she sauntered, she sashayed, she slunk, towards us and I recognized the opening licks of the old Pat Benatar's Love is a Battlefield. The same song she'd sung for me that first night of that charter cruise that seemed so long ago. God, she was sexy! I don't think I've ever seen hips move like that before! If she didn't have every male in the audience regardless of age sporting wood and creaming in his pants he's got to be a sexless eunuch. The audience was quiet at first; after all this was something completely different than they expected nor popular at the time. But I tell you what: there is something timeless about the thrum of a bass and the hammering staccato of a drum that forces your body to move. It's like the beating of your heart. I glanced around and by the second verse I could see more than a few of the young girls were trying to imitate her movements. By the end of the song everyone was screaming and yelling and there was general pandemonium throughout the place. She didn't hesitate and launched right into another song after finishing the first one although some of it was obscured by the crowd noise. She sang a whole bunch of golden oldies including one of my all-time favorites, Masquerade by Berlin. How the hell she knew about that one I can only chalk up to her imbedded spy. Near the end she did quite a few brand new ones. Of course I couldn't recognize them; they'd never been performed yet! But I remember liking them even though I didn't know the words and wasn't familiar with the music. You'd recognize them now; three of them turned out to be her biggest hits ever. The surprises didn't stop though. During the second song I could start to hear other voices harmonizing with Tink and up through the floor came three backup singers. Guess who was one of them? Yep, Natalie Bernstead! One of the others was that little redhead we'd "saved" at the tune-up concert we'd watched but I didn't remember her name at the time. Natalie grinned and waved to us as she wailed. It was getting to be old home week! As far as I'm concerned it was over all too soon and Tink was saying thank you and skipping off the stage. "That was fucking awesome, Boss!" Mike gushed as we stood waiting for the crowd to thin out. "Not bad at all," I nodded. "Did you like it, honey?" I said to Lidia. I'm not sure she heard me; she was still mesmerized. Alee just grinned and said it was a lot of fun. "So that is your Tinker Bell?" she asked poking me with a finger. I didn't get to answer because someone was calling to us behind and up on the stage. "Sir? Sir?" I turned around. "Miss Delmar would like the pleasure of your company backstage if that can be arranged." I said it could. Bending down he touched something on the stage and silently a portion slid back to reveal steps. Holding my ladies' hands I pulled them up behind me as Mike and the guys followed. It was a short trip to the backstage area and as soon as we were there I heard someone scream "Captain Chaos!" and I suddenly had forty kilos of squirming girl, legs wrapped around my waist and arms around my neck putting a lip-lock on me and doing her best to clean my tonsils with her tongue. It was a bit of a surprise but not a totally unpleasant one. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 14 -Daniel- "God-damn it good to see you, you old fart!" Antigua sighed when we finally came up for air. Or at least she did; I'm not so sure I had any say in the matter whatsoever. "It's good to see you again too, squirt," I chuckled. "I guess you want me to give him back now, don't you?" she asked somebody over my shoulder. "Sooner or later," I heard Alee laugh. "Down girl! Behave yourself," I said smacking her bottom lightly. "Well, that isn't going to do it," she smirked wiggling against my hand. "Fine, I'll behave," she said as her legs unwrapped and she slid down my chest. We turned back towards the girls and Tink wrapped an arm around my waist and poked her head out under my arm. "Girls," I said giving Tink a squeeze around the shoulder. "This is Antigua Delmar; a/k/a Tinker Bell; a/k/a Pain in the Ass. Ouch!" Tink pinched me. "Antigua Delmar, these," I announced proudly — okay maybe smugly, "are my ladies. The short gorgeous one is Sumalee Nakpradith and the tall, breathtaking beauty is Lidia Chojnacki." "Hi there," Tink waved. "Bet you're wondering what I'm doing smooching on your boyfriend. Well, ya see he saved my life..." "We know," Alee grinned and stuck out her hand. "He saved ours too. I suppose I should welcome you to the club. "No, that cannot be right; he saved you first. I suppose that makes you the charter member." Tink unlatched herself and crawled out from beneath my arm taking Alee's hand. "That's right," she said. "But I forgot to call dibs. Anyway Mom got to him first. I guess you heard all about that." "Indeed we did," Alee suddenly sounded very frosty. "Yeah, I feel the same way," Tink sighed. "She a dumb bitch but she's still my mom. Ah, Danny, for your info, by the way, she's sulking around here somewhere. She was kind of pissed when she found out about me giving you guys the tickets but I'm an adult and there wasn't a fucking thing she could do about it." "Watch your language," I warned. "You are definitely not too big for that spanking to be real." "I've got three great big dudes hanging around here somewhere that may take exception to that," she smirked. "You think they're going to stop me from putting you over my knee and waling on your ass?" I grinned. "Ah, maybe not," she admitted after thinking for a moment. "Okay fine, I'll try and watch it. Hey there, I'm Antigua. You're Lidia, aren't you?" she said sticking her hand out to the tall blonde. "Ah—ah—ah," Lidia's mouth moved like a fish choking on air. I moved over and put my arm around Lidia's waist. "Say hi to Antigua, honey," I prompted. "Hi, Antigua," she squeaked. "Lidia is a really big fan of yours," I explained. "Really big. She's just nervous." "Sure, I get that all the time," Tink said waving it off. "So you're a fan, huh? That's great! I need to talk to you! How'd you like the show? Did you like the new stuff? Is it something you think you'd like?" "Ah, I loved the show!" Lidia finally gushed. "I have every comp you ever recorded! Your songs are so great!" She paused for a moment and then said thoughtfully, "I liked the new ones. They were a lot like some of the music my mom and dad used to listen to but when you did them it sounded different ... better." "Well, Tink has a hell of a lot better voice than a lot of the old rockers," I interjected. "Oh, you!" Tink said poking my stomach with her finger. "You think smooth talking will get you anything and you know something? You're right!" She glanced behind me and frowned. "Shit! Mom's heading this way with her new boy-toy. I'm getting out of here and taking your girlfriend with me to do a little consumer research. You don't mind, do you, Danny?" She looked at me almost pleading. I understood completely. I was her friend but Cynthia was her mother. She wasn't at all happy about what Cynthia had done to me but she didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. "Be gone, cowardly scamp," I grinned. "Just remember to bring her back when you're done with her. I've got plans for her tonight." "Eh, nefarious plans?" Tink giggled grabbing Lidia by the hand and pulling her away. "That was a stupid question," she said mostly to herself and the befuddled Lidia. "Any plans he has are going to be nefarious." I put my arm around Alee's shoulder and did a quick scan for Mike. Alee may have been pissed off at the idea of what Cynthia had done but she was far too dignified to act on it. Mike, on the other hand... "Where's Mike?" I whispered to Brian. "Over there talking with a couple of the security guys." He pointed with his chin. "I think she's trying to get them to show her their guns. You know, 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine' kind of thing." Sure enough she was standing to the side and talking with one of the bodyguards that hadn't followed Tink. Her mouth was talking to him but her eyes were glued to the man and woman slowly making their way towards us. "Its okay, Cap," Brian said. "She's good. She knows the score." I looked at him pointedly. He rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah fine, maybe I'll just glide on over there and make sure she ain't selling her virtue for a measly gas pistol." "Thanks, Brian." "Yeah well, you know if I'm going to keep up this babysitting business, I need to find out what the hourly rate is," he grumped as he moved in the general direction of Mike. "So this is the Cynthia," Alee stated unemotionally but at least she snuggled in against my side nicely. "You don't have to make it a swear word, baby," I chuckled. "I told you it's over and done. As far as I'm concerned it's a past best ignored; it's just a memory. Besides, as far as I'm concerned I upgraded," I said giving her a squeeze. "You got a two for one," she chuckled looking up at me. "Oh, I got so much more than that," I had to say looking down into those ink-black pools. "You are so full of shit," she blushed and gave me a soft bump with her hip. I chuckled. Can't argue with the truth. I watched the woman coming towards us hanging on to some pretty-boy's arm and tried to understand what I was feeling. It wasn't easy; there was nothing there. I mean here was the woman who had caused me so much pain just a few short months earlier but when I looked at her I felt nothing: nada, zip, zilch. She was still extremely beautiful and had those killer legs which were being displayed to their fullest by a very short skirt but I couldn't bring myself to give a crap. The funny thing was the closer she got the less real she looked: almost too perfect. More like a caricature of a woman than a real one. Her heels clicked on the flooring as they approached. "Oh, hello. Daniel, isn't it?" she asked when they got close. I think I earned some kind of acting award right then. I just about burst our laughing but I didn't. Did she really expect me to believe she didn't remember who I was? The woman who could cite from memory the earnings and demographics of some obscure singer from twenty years ago and she didn't remember the name of a man she slept with for months? Was this her way of telling me that portion of her life had been deleted or was it just a cruel attempt to jab at me? Either way I thought it was funnier than hell. "That's right, Daniel Mayhem. Good to see you again, Cynthia." Okay, maybe I didn't deserve a big award. I did smile and I couldn't keep the hint of amusement out of my voice. "Tommy, Antigua and I hosted a cruise on Mr. Mayhem's charter boat a few months ago," she said to her escort. "We should do that! It was so much fun!" Turning back to me she asked, "Do you still run those little trips, Mr. Mayhem?" A lesser person might have thought she was being just a tiny bit condescending. "The boat's still for hire," I nodded. "But I don't get out on it much anymore; been too busy myself, but the people I have do a top-notch job. Just call the office; they can set it up for you." "Busy? Goodness, what have you been doing?" "Vacations mostly," I chuckled. "That and working with some public service organizations. Oh, by the way: Cynthia, I'd like you to meet Sumalee Nakpradith. Sumalee, this is Cynthia Delmar: Antigua's mother." "Pleased to meet you, Miss Delmar," Alee said with a painted on smile. "Daniel has told me so much about you." I noticed she didn't offer to shake Cynthia's hand. Cynthia didn't look like she wanted to, anyway. "I'm Antigua's manager, and I'm pleased to meet you," Cynthia nodded and then looked at Alee's crewmember badge. "Oh, I see you're one of the crew here. One of the — hostesses — I assume?" Okay, she had just called Alee a prostitute. It wasn't funny anymore. "One of the bartenders, actually," I interjected. I could feel Alee tense up and I tightened my hold on her shoulder. "We met the first day I came aboard and well — what can I say? — I was a goner from that moment on." "You were not, you big goof," Alee giggled and punched me lightly in the side. Then to Cynthia: "It took me two days to trap him with my feminine wiles." "Yes, it does appear he can be trapped fairly easily," Cynthia responded dryly. "So, Daniel; pick yourself up a girlfriend for your cruise?" "Somewhat more than a girlfriend," I said proudly giving Alee another squeeze that everybody could see. "I think I'm going to have to take this one with me when I leave. I hope they don't check my baggage too closely getting off the ship. Although I'm thinking she just may fit in a carry-on." "A carry-on?" Alee laughed. "And just where do you think you are going to hide Lidia?" "Well, that may take some larger luggage," I admitted. "Lidia?" Cynthia asked with a frown. "Who is, Lidia?" "His other girlfriend," Alee answered promptly. "You would not expect me to take care of this one all by myself, would you? She should be around here somewhere: a very tall blonde, very beautiful." "I think Tink dragged her off somewhere," I said. "Lidia is a really big fan and Tink wanted to hear some fan reaction to her new music, which I liked, by the way." "They're coming up behind you, Boss," I heard Mike through the net. I turned slightly and looked over my shoulder and saw the little pixie blonde holding Lidia's hand and bringing her towards us. "Yep, there they are now." Cynthia's eyes kind of narrowed but her escort's opened up big as saucers when he got a good look at Lidia and her melons. It's a pity really that men have such a tendency to do that. They stare at her tits but miss her beautiful face and hypnotic eyes. Just as well, I suppose; I want them all to myself anyway. As long as it doesn't bother her they can stare at her tits all day if they want. "That didn't take long," I said as Tink and Lidia came up beside me. "Just wanted some initial reaction," Tink answered. Her eyes kept darting between me and Cynthia but there was a mischievous little grin on her lips. I supposed she'd been watching and when there wasn't any screaming or eye gouging she decided it was safe to come out. "Lidia and I still have a lot to talk about, but we can do that later. You know, she knows my songs better than I do?" "Wouldn't surprise me," I sighed. "She practically fainted the first time I mentioned I had the misfortune of knowing you." "Misfortune, my ass, you jerk," she said reaching around Lidia to punch me in the stomach. I oofed appropriately and slipped my arm around Lidia's waist. "Lidia, baby, this is Antigua's mother, Cynthia Delmar." "I'm Antigua's manager," Cynthia said through a plastic smile. "And my mom," Tink piped in. "Miss Delmar, it's a pleasure to meet you," Lidia smiled and then stuck her hand out. Cynthia had little choice except to take it although I think she would have rather touched a snake. "You certainly don't look old enough to be Antigua's mother." Whoa! Where the hell did that come from? Did that really come from my shy and demure Lidia? If that wasn't a polite shot across the bow, I don't know what was! Cynthia jerked her hand back quickly. "Thank you. I was very young," Cynthia mumbled, now her smile really did look fake. "A child bride, I'm sure," Lidia smiled and nodded. "Danny has told us so much about you. I just wanted to say thank you for both Alee and myself. If you hadn't done what you did we would never had the chance to meet Danny." "Ah, Cyn, honey?" Tommy finally tore his eyes away from Lidia's boobs and looked down at Cynthia. "What's she talking 'bout?" Real genius material there; I wonder which think-tank she plucked him out of? "Nothing," Cynthia said through gritted teeth. "Believe me: nothing!" "Oh, okay," he nodded and went back to drooling over Lidia's breasts. That girl had some wickedness in her that I hadn't guessed at because I could feel her arch her back and stick them out just a tad bit more as she scrunched in even closer to my side. About that time Cynthia noticed exactly what was commanding her boy-toy's attention and frowned. "We really must be going now," she said quickly and grabbed super-brain's hand. "So many things that must be done before we can get the show on the road, as they say. It's been nice to see you all. Hopefully we'll see you again soon." Without waiting for our reply she proceeded to drag her escort away, quickly. "That was fun," Lidia said and smiled down at me as she let her posture return to normal. "I guess these things are good for something after all." Alee poked her head around me and looked up at Lidia. "You are evil," she said with gleaming eyes. "I like it." "Oh — My — God!" Tink screamed slapping a hand over her mouth. She was practically jumping up and down. "That was so kold! Icy! Icy! Icy! That was fantastic! I've never seen Mother run off like that before!" She grabbed Lidia around the waist and hugged the side that wasn't against me. "You are my hero, my idol! I will never forget that!" "I was mean," Lidia looked down at me sadly. "I'm sorry." "Don't be, baby," I said reaching up to brush my lips against hers. "She was being mean first. She called Alee a prostitute." "Really? Does that mean I'm a prostitute also?" she asked, looking around me down at Alee. "I've never been a prostitute before. What do we charge?" "Well, we cannot charge by the kilogram," Alee grinned back at her. "That would not be fair for me. We should charge by the hour." "That wouldn't be fair either," Lidia protested. "It takes him a lot longer to wear you out than it does me." "That is because I am smarter than you are. I let you go first." "I knew there had to be a reason," Lidia gasped in mock surprise. "Next time you have to go first." "Ah, ladies," I hissed. "This isn't the time or the place..." "Now look! You made him blush," Alee observed. "I don't blush," I muttered. I don't, really! "Boy, have they got you wrapped," Tink grinned up at me. "Shut up, kid." I didn't need anyone pointing out the blatantly obvious. "Pussy-whipped, pussy-whipped!" she chanted. I looked over at the closest of her security detachment. "Do you mind if I find a chair and wale on her ass for a half-hour or so?" "Lord, no!" he answered rolling his eyes. "Somebody needs to do it. Just don't leave any marks or cause permanent damage." "Hey, you work for me!" she shouted at her betrayer, her hands going around to protect her derrière. "You're supposed to save me from people like him." "Poke the bear..." he answered with a bemused smile. "Been causing trouble for your bodyguards, Tink?" I laughed. "Not much," she protested weakly. "But I'll be good." "That'll be a first. So when are you leaving? It's been great to see you again but I'm sure you have to get back to work soon." "Tomorrow," she nodded. "But we have tonight. What ya got planned? I think you need to take me out and show me what you've been up to." "Actually I don't do the planning," I said. "I just do what I'm told." "As it should be," she nodded solemnly. She then looked at the girls, "So what do you have planned?" "Nothing yet," Alee answered after looking at Lidia who only shrugged. "Hey, Boss," Mike interjected from behind us. We all turned to look at her. "Whoa, looking good Michelle," Tink whistled. "Don't you think she's looking good, Danny?" "He says I have great legs and a cute ass," Mike smirked; I just rolled my eyes but didn't say anything. Look what opening my big mouth got me before. "Anyway the boys and I found this interesting place the other night. It's called The Dungeon. It's kind of out of the way and not too big but they play some loud, good old rock-and-roll and there's a dance floor. It's a lot like Bennie's without the dirt. When we were there, it was mostly old farts like us." "Sounds good to me," I shrugged. "So long as the girls are up for it. Maybe I can do a little dancing." "Christ, Boss! I didn't think you wanted to chase them off this quickly," Mike snorted. "One look at you flopping around and they'll take off as fast as their high-heels will let them." What is it about this flopping around? I do just fine, thank you very much. "I think this is something we need to see," Alee said to Lidia with a wink. "I think you're right," Lidia answered somberly. "It could be a genetic defect we should know about." "Fine. We'll be there," I hurriedly interjected. "You want to meet there or go down together?" "I need to go back and change into something a little shorter if we're going to do some dancing," Mike said. "So do you two," she nodded to the girls. "You three, kiddo. The cat suit is nice but I'd save it for the stage or the bedroom." Tink stuck her tongue out. "Why don't we meet you down there?" Tink said. "I'm sure Sam, Stan and Natalie will want to go also. I can let my own shadows have the night off for once." "Weird and I'll meet you down there," Brian added. "Sounds like a plan," I announced. ------- "So, do we need to run by your cabins to pick up something for you to wear?" I asked the girls after we'd left. "I think we have it covered," Alee answered slowly. I glanced at both of them; Alee was looking straight ahead and Lidia was looking guilty about something. "Michelle — ah — kind of forced us to buy more than one dress," Lidia finally admitted. "She did, did she?" I mused. "Yes, but we can take them back," she blurted. "Not a chance," I said shaking my head. "I don't care how many dresses you bought. If you look half as good in them as you do in these I want you in them and then I'll want you out of them." "You are so bad," Alee smiled and slapped me softly. "You can have us into or out of anything you want. You know that." The dresses were adequate. Okay, that's bullshit; the dresses would have been Exhibit A for a case of justifiable rape. Short and sexy didn't even come close. I was already mentally groaning just thinking about how many fights I was going to be in that night keeping the stampeding hoards away from them and I told them so. They seemed to appreciate it. Neither Lidia nor Alee had ever been to The Dungeon although they'd heard about it. It was a place the older set usually frequented. Olivia, of course, had no trouble directing us. I could hear the bass rumble from outside the entryway and knew it had to be an all right place. It was loud, middlin-crowded and there was already dancing going on. I saw our group around a big table up against the wall and guided the girls over there. Sam was there with Natalie and she had to give me a bone-crushing hug and a big sloppy kiss; Stan was sitting down with that little cutie I still couldn't remember the name of and Weird was just taking it all in bobbing his head to the music. Tink was there up against the wall and she slid over and patted the seat for us to sit down. "Brian and Mike are already out dancing," she leaned across Alee and shouted. I looked out at the floor and saw Mike gyrating with about three men close at hand. Not surprising, her idea of short and sexy wasn't exactly the same as mine. Think long tank-top. Maybe longish is a better description; if that thing actually came down over her ass I'd have been really surprised. "I hope to hell she wore panties," I said to nobody in particular. "If she didn't we're going to have a riot here pretty soon." "She's fine, Captain," Weird smiled. "She said she was going to be good tonight." Now why didn't that reassure me? Mike's idea of "being good" meshed with mine about as much as the concept of "short dress." Still, she looked like she was having fun so I told myself not to worry. Besides if anybody put a hand on her she didn't want it was his fault if he didn't get it back. I must say, she was shaking it pretty good. I was a little bit surprised that Tink, or even Natalie for that matter, since the crowd was of that age, weren't being mobbed. Of course the twin towers of meat might have had a little bit to do with that. Stan and Sam can be a little imposing even when they don't want to be. For the most part the people who recognized them just smiled and called out their hellos. I guess Tink was having problems talking to the girls by having to lean over both Alee and me because she whispered into Alee's ear and then started pushing her into my lap. Not that I was complaining mind you. My ladies' notion of what constitutes a short dress is more aligned with mine rather than Mike's, meaning the hemline was somewhere below the ass and not just below the neckline. Still, it rode up a bit and there was plenty of bare leg to play with not counting Lidia's who was scrunched up next to me. I was a happy camper. I did get to dance later. Yes I was made fun of; even Alee and Lidia got in on it. I don't care; I was having fun. I got to dance with just about all the ladies, with that large a group the combinations are almost endless but the absolute highpoint of the entire night was when Tink, Natalie and Samantha Jenson (that's the little cutie I'd forgotten the name of) danced together. You have to picture this: The Dungeon had huge holo screens on most of the walls but an especially big one right behind the dance floor. Most of the time they showed old, old, old clips of the classic rock bands and singers remastered for 3-Dee doing live performances. Sometimes it matched the music playing but most of the time not. Anyway Tink, Natalie and Samantha were out on the floor; I think Sam and Stan were out there somewhere also, when the next vid-clip that came up was from Tink's concert that evening! Tink laughed and pointed and started dancing in sync with the vid as Natalie and Samantha dropped right in behind her mirroring her every move. It was awesome! Whoever was doing the programming — either Olivia or somebody right there in the club — was hot on it that night because they played the next four songs from her concert which included two of her new songs. When she finally finished the sound coming from everybody there was incredible. I thought her face was going to split open as big as her smile got and she blew kisses to everybody while practically bouncing her way back to the table. "Oh, God!" she gushed as she jumped right into my lap. Lidia and Alee sitting beside me just giggled. "I have never been that close to the audience! It was so kold!" Needless to say the place was packed and after her impromptu show everybody there just had to stop by and tell her how great it was. She was happy about that also. "That's my new demographic," she said with a grin wrapping her arms around my neck while she — we, I guess — posed for someone to take a snap of us. She didn't seem at all embarrassed to be seen sitting in the lap of some clown old enough to be her father. "I guess I'm going to be accused of kidnapping you again," I grumped. "You're my sex slave, remember?" she giggled. This of course required an explanation since both Lidia and Alee appeared to quite interested in the "sex slave" aspect. So she told them all about how we met and her rides on my bike. "That sounds a bit dangerous," Alee frowned. "It is so awesome!" Tink squealed. "Wait till he takes you out. Oh my God! You're not going that fast but you feel like it! You have your arms wrapped around him and that throbbing metal between your legs; my nips are puckered just thinking about it!" That girl could embarrass a statue! I don't think she knows any boundaries. "I don't know..." "Just wait," Tink interrupted. "It'll get you so horny you can't wait to finish so you can fuck him blind." "Oh," Alee's eyebrow shot up. "Did you? Fuck him blind that is." "Naw," she kind of half grinned and half frowned. "Like I said, Mom got to him first. But he's getting older and I'm still young. I can wait till he slows down and I can trip him." I began to wonder if she'd been drinking. I remembered she'd had a few sips but I couldn't remember her drinking that much. "You think I'm a pedophile?" I joked. "Alee's only three years older than I am," she shot back. "That's entirely different," I frowned. "Sure it is," she laughed and hit my chest. "Hey Lidia, you ever been on a bike?" "You mean a motorcycle and not a bicycle I presume." She was leaning against me head against my head, eyes closed. "I've ridden a few times myself. I'm too big to be on the back with someone else driving." "Not on Captain Blackbeard's pig. It's huge!" "That's 'hog', you delinquent," I said slapping her leg. She just grinned. "I know. I just like yanking your chain," she laughed and then jumped up off my lap. "I think I've got you in enough trouble with your women for now. Hey, Nathan, take me dancing!" She still called Weird only by his given name. As she left Stan, Sam and Natalie sat down. "The kid causing trouble for you again?" Stan asked. "Stupid question," I muttered. Natalie laughed. We sat there for a moment looking out at the dance floor. Mike was out there again with her pack of male admirers doing what was called dancing, but if there hadn't been any music would have been called sex-in-public. "She's looking real good," Stan commented. I nodded. He continued without looking at me, "We really appreciate what you're doing Cap. She's almost the same old Mike." "I'm not doing anything..." I started to protest. "Yes you are, Danny," Natalie said putting her hand on top of mine and looking directly at me. "You're letting her use you as her lifeline. When you started coming back you brought her with you and you're still that anchor in this world that allows her to stay." "You two know she's no threat to you, don't you?" She was looking back and forth between Alee and Lidia now and both of them were wide awake and looking back at her intently. "She's not after the same thing you are. She needs him but not the same way you do." "We've talked about it," Lidia nodded. They have? When? "We accept that she is a part of Danny's life just like the rest of you are. It doesn't bother us." "Good!" Natalie said letting go of me and reaching over to pat Lidia's hand. "Because she's going to be there in the background — closely in the background — until she can learn to live her own life and maybe forever in some ways. She's going to be underfoot all the time." "Like she was tied to my shoes," I muttered remembering what Brian had said. Natalie laughed. "Yep, pretty much like she was tied to your shoes." "I understand what is going on," Alee nodded. Well, she did have that degree in head-shrinking. At least one of us had some idea about what the fuck was going on. "It is not the healthiest situation," she continued, "but from what I understand much better than where she was. It is acceptable for now and we will continue to work on moving her to where she can live her own independent life." "Doc," Sam spoke for the first time. This was also the first time I had heard anyone use Alee's title and it made me feel badly. Here was a woman I was supposed to be in love with and I was introducing her to everybody like she was nothing more than a piece of arm-candy. I felt like a heel. She was an extremely intelligent woman who had worked hard for what she attained and I should have been acknowledging it every chance I got. I promised myself I would from then on. I'd do the same thing for Lidia also even if I just introduced her as ski instructor extraordinaire. No matter that they joked about it, they were both so much more than just sex toys and I vowed to make sure they understood that. "Doc," he said softly. "I ain't no mind-fixer like you are but I don't think Mike's ever going to be completely independent of the captain. I — we — know you mean well but we don't want you to be disappointed if Mike never breaks free all the way. I'm just a big ol' dumb country boy, (Sam and Stan were from Seattle; how does he get country boy out of that?) but I think Mike lost a big part of herself long ago and it ain't coming back. The captain is that part of her she lost. If this is going to cause trouble later on then you and the captain had better talk about it." Since when did he become a couples counselor?" "Hmm..." Alee tapped a finger against her lips. "Well, Michelle did mention she has been resisting Daniel's attempts to fondle her bottom for eighteen years. I suppose we can trust her to continue resisting his attempts in the future." Stan and Sam looked stunned for a moment. The whole open eyes-wide, steer-stunned look: it was comical. They looked at each other and roared! I mean roared! Their laughter actually drowned out the music for a minute and quite a few dancers stopped for a second just to see what was going on. They sat there like a couple of apes laughing so hard tears ran down their cheeks pounding each other on the back. It was embarrassing. "The captain playing grab-ass with Mike?" Stan finally said wiping tears from his cheek. "Oh that's good. I'd pay my life's savings to see that." "Boys, this is interesting but we got a little situation developing over there," I said pointing to the dance floor. It wasn't anything yet but I could see it could quickly get out of hand. Samantha had been dancing sort of with Weird and Tink but I think some younger punk —mid-twenties I'd guess — must have thought it unfair some geeky guy was hoarding two lookers and was pressing hard on her. He must have thought Tink was either out of his league — correctly — or that she had bodyguards somewhere watching her — also correct — but that little Sam didn't — incorrect. She was beginning to look rather distraught and I could see Weird was getting ready to move which wasn't a good thing. Two of the most deadly people I knew were on that dance floor and while one was humping her ass against one of her studs on the far side of the dance floor the other was getting ready to strike. It should be old news to everybody reading this that Weird is a bit of a strange bird. Mike says he has an IQ higher than most zip codes and she's probably right; nobody really knows; he keeps fucking with the tests making the numbers come out to whatever he happens to want them to on that particular day. He also happens to be almost as good as Mike in unarmed combat. The big difference is Mike has been known at times to actually leave her opponent alive; generally speaking Weird doesn't bother. If he'd made the analytical decision that little Sam's unwelcome suitor was a problem large enough to need attention, it was a good possibility there was going to be a corpse flopping around on the dance floor soon. "Yeah, got it Cap," Stan grunted. "Looks like I got to talk to somebody about manners." For a big man he can move real fast and within seconds he was on the dance floor with Romeo's neck in one paw dangling him off the deck about ten centimeters talking earnestly right in his face. I think it helped that he emphasized his points with a little shake; I could practically feel the bones rattle. After a bit he dropped the jerk who then scurried away like a dog with it's ass on fire. Stan bent down and whispered in little Sam's ear. She smiled gratefully and patted him on the chest. He kissed the top of her head and headed back towards us. "She's still a little skittish around men," he explained when he sat down. Stan was often Samantha's escort and unofficial bodyguard since that time we rescued her from her abusive husband during the tune-up concert just before Tink's tour. I'm not going to go into that now but suffice it to say I can fully understand why she's not anxious for male company. She feels comfortable and safe around Stan; aside from the fact he's big enough to protect her from anything smaller than a main battle tank his sexual orientation is so strictly male he poses no threat on that front. "You tell him yet?" he asked Sam and Natalie. "Not yet," Natalie answered blushing. Now that's something I'd never expected to see: Natalie Bernstead blushing! My interest was piqued. "Pussies," he snorted. "You want me to tell 'em?" "No, Stan," Sam said quietly, "we can." Captain..." he cleared his throat. "We're gong to have a baby!" Natalie interrupted. I was stunned. "That's wonderful!" I gasped. "Who's the father?" I only thought I was stunned before. The fist slamming into my chest made it real. Natalie's a big girl; she hits hard. "Ooof!" "You prick," she smiled. I pushed myself up and came around to give her a big hug and kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations, little momma," I whispered. "I never thought it would happen," she sniffed quietly. "Sam will be a great dad," I said and kissed her forehead. Now I knew why she hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night. I straightened up and turned to Sam. "Ah, a hand shake would be just fine, Captain," he grinned. "That's all you'll get," I said doing just that. "Now, when are you going to make an honest woman of this poor little waif you've taken advantage of?" Natalie smacked my side this time, not quite as hard as before. "We're getting married after the tour is done, you jerk," she giggled. "He pestered me so much I had to say yes just to shut him up. He's really pathetic when he begs, but I kind of like it." I couldn't think of any better news to top off a perfect evening but it did get me thinking. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 15 -Sumalee- To say it had been an interesting evening would be an understatement. The relationship Daniel has with his team would make for a lifetime study by any clinical psychologist. We met two more of them that night: the brothers Stanley and Samuel. Their reaction to Lidia and myself was fascinating. It was almost like they had known us as long as Michelle, Brian and Nathan; almost like they had shared memories. As I said, fascinating, exciting and just a little intimidating. Not that they showed the least bit of animosity towards us whatsoever; just the opposite in fact. The accepted and treated us like we were already an established part of their captain's life. A thrilling feeling, true, but still daunting. Who was this man that in just a few short days we have tied our lives too so completely? What was he that he so effortlessly commanded such absolute loyalty from such a diverse and capable group of men and women? And why did I so naturally think of 'we' instead of 'I.' Lidia was as much a stranger to me as Daniel but there was no doubt she was the other half of what had become his. Antigua Delmar was another story entirely. What was her intention? The fact that she was hopelessly in love with Daniel was bright as day to any inclined to notice and yet I felt no overt jealousy from her towards us because of our sexual and emotional relationship with Daniel. Did she consider herself a third member of his harem or was she merely biding her time waiting to strike? That Daniel had feelings for her was evident but the exact nature of those feelings was unclear. She was a factor to be watched but I believed not one to be worried about immediately. Michelle: The practitioner in me screamed to help the tortured woman trapped inside that lovely body. The mental torment she must have suffered during the war must have been horrendous. The alcoholism and promiscuity were classic ― almost textbook ― examples of a mind trying to come to grips with something so overwhelming it was either hide behind them or die. The traditional approach would be to slowly rebuild her psyche over time until she, hopefully, could once again stand alone as a functioning human being. I was not convinced this was the appropriate approach in this case or even practical. My thoughts kept returning to the words Samuel said to us: " ... Mike lost a big part of herself long ago and it ain't coming back. The captain is that part of her she lost." Ridiculous, absurd, unacceptable by our present day standards! And yet a part of me truly believed that might indeed be the case. What he breathed in she breathed out. We were tied to a man who had a living, breathing shadow; if he ceased to exist so would she. Fascinating and terrifying! What would happen if she suddenly decided Lidia and I were a threat to her god? "Alee? Alee, honey, are you with us?" I shook my head; Daniel was talking to me. We had come back to the cabin and were now ready for bed. I was exhausted but lust was starting to stir me to action once more. I glanced at Lidia; she was at least as tired as I was. At least I was used to being up at this time although my days with Daniel had reset my biological clock somewhat. "Come over here and sit down, please," he said patting the bed. He motioned Lidia over also. "I have something I need to talk to both of you about if that's okay?" Lidia and I looked at each other. Another talk? We had already taken care of this we thought. "Yes, Daniel?" I said settling in where he wanted me. "I know we're all tired and I don't expect an answer tonight or ever if that's what you prefer," he paused. "Lidia, I love you. Alee I love you. You may think I'm crazy and I won't argue with you about it but even though I've only known each one of you for only a few days, I can't even conceive of a life without either of you in it." "Thank you, Daniel," I smiled. "We feel the same way." Lidia said nothing; she peered intently at his face as if expecting something. "Thanks. I'd hoped you felt that way," he smiled nervously. "As far as I'm concerned we can live this way till the end of time, but..." he paused again and took a deep breath. "I'm kind of an old-fashioned guy and I want the world to know you're more than just my loves and my lovers; I want it to know you are my wives. I guess what I'm doing in a really piss-poor way is asking you to marry me." I was stunned, shocked and just about to launch myself at him when Lidia raised her hand. "Wait," she said sharply. "We will marry you under one condition." I was sure she had lost her mind! "Anything," he said softly. "Anything you want. If it is my power to grant your wish I will do it gladly." "We want your children," she said, her breathing shallow and ragged. "I know that you have two already although you are now estranged and if you do not wish any more, we will understand. But if we are truly to be your wives then we will also bear children." "I never thought of that," he said sounding startled. "But you're right: If you are my wives then of course you will carry my children. If you consent, that is. If you don't want any I'll accept that but nothing would make me prouder than to be the father to your babies." Suddenly there were two of us doing our best to smother our man with our bodies and lips. I looked up and caught the eye of my future co-wife, "Should we fuck him to death now or wait until after the ceremony so we can get his money?" "I say we do it now," she grinned like a cat with feathers stuck to her whiskers. "We can always backdate the license later." ------- -Daniel- It wasn't as simple as that of course, nothing ever is. There would be immigration to deal with; the fact that Alee was a citizen of a marginally unfriendly superpower didn't help but I'd decided if that became a problem we'd move to either the EU or somewhere down south. That didn't faze me one bit. We told everybody at breakfast. We'd planned to get together before Tink and her crew had to leave so it seemed like the perfect time. Everybody seemed happy about it although Tink became bossy right away telling us we couldn't have the ceremony until after her tour was done because of course she was going to be the maid of honor. It almost came to a real spanking when I tried to explain the girls were going to decide that and not some prepubescent nosy squirt. Fisticuffs were avoided when the girls assured me they wouldn't have it any other way. "Mother's going to love this," she cackled evilly. "Do you think you can get knocked up in the next week or so? That would be even better!" "Leave your mother alone," I demanded. "Cynthia has some serious issues but the fact is she did me the biggest favor anyone has ever done for me. If she hadn't done what she did I would still be with her and I would never have met the two people I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with." The girls blubbered and Tink grudgingly agreed but I was afraid "leave alone" wouldn't be interpreted as having the same meaning that I intended it to. Well, there was nothing I could do about it. Tink was a force of nature unto herself. One can only hope to guide or deflect her somewhat but never control. We decided the girls would remain onboard for at least a while after I left and they made arrangements to move into a cabin as roommates. I was going back to take care of all the paperwork that was needed. It wasn't too awfully bad. The Xanadu had a set route that brought her by Miami every week and they'd be able to take the shuttle in and we'd have a day or two together at least. They could take the Tube over to Tampa or I'd meet them in Miami. They'd be able to work and still send money back to their families the way they'd been doing. I told them I'd make sure their families got everything they needed but they postponed that saying they couldn't get more than temporary visas until the paperwork was completed so they might as well work anyway. I didn't like it but I agreed. Getting Stubing to agree wasn't a problem although he pissed and moaned about me running off with two of his best and prettiest crewmembers. He was right but I enjoyed the bitching anyway. We still had a few days until I had to leave and it was kind of like our pre-honeymoon. Lots of relaxing, lots of fun and lots of loving. We practiced baby-making every chance we could and I think we got pretty good at it. None of us thought there'd be any problems when it came time for the real thing. "Wow, look at that," Lidia said pointing down towards the pool area. We were up on one of the upper decks just taking in the sea air strolling along with my ladies on my arms. "Isn't that Brian? Who's that sex-bomb with him?" "I don't know," I admitted. Brian was sitting on the edge of a deck chair apparently talking to some kid I'd guess to be about eight or nine years old and both of them were glancing up at the really impressive woman who was glaring down at them with her fists on her hips. She had to be almost as tall as Lidia; large chest and long dancer's legs that seemed to go on for klicks. She didn't look happy. "Looks like he's in trouble, though. Good thing he can run fast." "I don't think he'll want to run away from her very fast," Lidia giggled. "She's gorgeous." "If she was looking at me like that, I'd be running," I said shaking my head. "He's a big boy; he can take care of himself," Mike grunted. Mike was out there with us like she was most of the time. She was usually around somewhere when we were out of the cabin although we were always alone in there. I really hoped it didn't bother the girls but they poo-pooed me whenever I tried to talk about it. They seemed to accept her presence as just a natural occurrence, sort of like air. At the time I figured she was probably right: he was a big boy and could keep himself out of trouble. The gods must really love it when you say things like that. ------- The first day back sucked. I felt like pieces of myself had been torn away from my side. I felt empty and alone. I was sitting on the aft deck of the Katherine with the only consolation being that I had to start thinking about finding a bigger place to live. The Katherine would be nice and cozy for a while and obviously they didn't mind living on a ship but I doubt they'd appreciate the downsizing for very long. Mike was sunbathing up on the flying bridge when her head popped over the side and she yelled down to me. "Boss, visitors!" I grunted and looked up. There was a car coming down the pier: it looked like Brian's. "Better get your top on," I yelled back up to her. "How'd you know?" she squawked. "You been peeking again?" I hadn't ― it'd been a guess ― but since she'd been sunbathing topless most of the cruise it wasn't too wild a guess. "Of course," I said pulling myself out of the chair as the car stopped and Brian along with a woman and child stepped out. "I'm going through withdrawal. I need to feast my eyes on nubile female flesh or I get the shakes." "I thought you only liked my legs and ass," she responded jumping down the ladder and walking up next to me tying her top behind her back. "I take what I can get," I shrugged. "Besides, you're filling out some." "Thanks, Boss. I'm going to tell on you." "They already know I'm a despicable old lecher. Hasn't scared them off yet." "True," she admitted. "Hey, isn't that..." "The woman from the boat," I finished for her. "I think you're right." It was the tall blonde with the impressive ... posture. She looked scared and Brian looked worried. "Hey there, Cap," he said a tried to smile. "This is my friend Allison Benson and her son, Jeremy. They have a little problem and I need to go out to Tucson for a few days to fix it." "Tell me about it," I said offering them a seat. He did. It was a problem all right. Not one that anyone in their right mind would want to get involved in but I could tell by the way their hands naturally drifted together as he explained it, it wasn't one that could be ignored. "You need back up," I stated flatly. "Captain, I can't ask anyone to get involved with this," he protested. "I don't know what I'll be getting into." "That's why..." I started to say. "I'll go," Mike interrupted. "We'll see if Weird or Top want to take a Tube trip." Top was out of town helping Carla Medford; he wasn't going to be available. "I'll go..." I again started to say. "If you go then I'll have to go anyway," she interrupted, again. "This way I'll know you're safe back here." "Yeah, but I won't know you guys are safe out there," I protested. "You're sweet! Now shut up," she said patting my cheek. "You heard him. Allison and the kid need a place to hide for a few days. Think you can do that without fucking it up too badly?" "You're a pain in the ass. You know that?" "You're just now figuring that out? Not too bright, are you," she smirked. It might have been better if she'd at least phrased that last part as a question. "Fine," I huffed. "Get your gear. We'll work on the logistics through Sara on your way out. Sara, see if Weird is available, please?" "Well Miss Benson, Jeremy, welcome aboard the Katherine." ------- -Mike- Well, it'd been fun while it lasted but Brian's little problem was about three thousand klicks above ground behind us and two meters below so I was starting to get bored again. Paperwork sucks but watching someone else do it sucks even more. Why do they call it paperwork anyway? The boss didn't have a single scrap of it on his desk; all the forms and such were on his desk viewer right where they were supposed to be. Every once in a while he'd have something printed out on hard copy but not enough so you'd notice. "I'm boooored," I sang from where I was sitting on his credenza behind his desk. "Then go find yourself something to dooooo," he sang back without looking up. "Ya know, if you're going to pretend to be my personal assistant or something silly like that why don't you do some actual assisting?" "What the hell do personal assistants do?" I asked. "Other than fuck the boss, which ain't going to happen. Make you coffee? You want me to make you coffee, sweetie?" He shuddered a little. "I thought you wanted to keep me alive, not poison me," he chuckled. "I'd tell you to eat shit," I hissed, "but I'm going to wait until after dinner and then tell you what you ate." He had the nerve to chuckle again. "You could go out and sit at that nice desk we got for you looking pretty and attentive," he offered. "Naw, I just fall asleep out there," I frowned. "The chair's too comfortable." "Then either go play in traffic or sit there quietly and do your nails." "Daniel, your 1400 appointment is here," Sara chimed in through the desk link. "Shall I send them in?" "Of course. Please do." "What's up, Boss?" "Beats the crap out of me," he shrugged and stood up getting ready to greet them at the door. "Remember Brad Miller? Three of the women he was assigned to want to talk to me about something." "He been pressuring them for something?" I asked. I could feel my voice getting a little harder. We both knew what "something" meant. If that were the case it was going to be ass-kicking time and since Stan and Sam were still out of town I'd get the pleasure of doing it myself. "Don't think so," he said shaking his head. "I heard the com this Patricia Henderson had with Sara and she was very adamant about not having Brad removed from their case. Sounded like she was going to come down here and tear me a new one if I even considered it." "Hmm, this is starting to sound interesting," I mused and started to rebuff my nails. Damn was I glad I stayed. What a hoot! ------- -Patricia- I was nervous and I'm sure Grace and Sam were also. We asked at the front desk where we needed to go to find this Captain Mayhem and were directed towards the back to a row of actually offices. We passed by a lot of desks but only a few of them were occupied. It was only a guess but I think it's where the field reps worked from when they weren't in the field. I looked around to see if there was one I could identify as Bradley's but didn't see anything. The few people that were there smiled and waved at us as we went past, though. It made me feel kind of nice but I didn't want to feel nice right then; we were going in for a fight and I wanted to feel mean. We came to an empty desk and wondered where to go from there when a disembodied voice called to us. "Mrs. Henderson? Mrs. Duev? Mrs. Roebling?" It was the same voice I'd made the appointment with. I answered, "Yes?" "Mr. Mayhem will see you now," it said pleasantly. "Just go through the door directly in front of you." "Ah, thank you." "You're very welcome." As we approached the door a large, dangerous looking man met us. If this was the Captain Mayhem I could see why Bradley was nervous about crossing him. I would be too. But he was smiling and seemed friendly. He introduced himself as Daniel Mayhem, "Call me Dan," and offered us a seat on the couch against the wall while he pulled up a chair for himself. A woman sat on a low bookcase behind the desk, legs crossed, intently working on her nails. She was slim with an extremely short skirt, tight top and absurdly high heels. She wasn't young, I could tell that, but she had legs I would have killed for! "That's Michelle, my personal non-assistant," he said jerking his thumb back in her direction. "Ignore her; I do." Michelle's eyes narrowed and there was a hint of a malicious grin on her face almost like she was saying I'll get you for that. If she was his personal assistant there wasn't much doubt what she was there to assist with. She looked like a high-priced hooker. That made me mad. He didn't have any problem having his snuggle-bunny in the office but he didn't want anyone else to have the same privilege. Hypocrite! "Now I understand you're having some problems with your field representative, Bradley Miller," he started. "What's the problem and how can we fix it? I know we're just getting started here and we're bound to make mistakes but from everything I've heard Brad's a good man and whatever it is we can get it corrected." "There is nothing wrong with Brad," I said loudly. I cleared my throat and dropped my voice back down to normal. No sense in getting into a shouting match right at the beginning. "There is nothing wrong with Mr. Miller," I continued at a more reasonable level. "What we have a problem with is your policy against dating between a field representative and his... cases." "Oookay," he said slowly looking at each one of us. "That one surprised me." He paused for a moment and continued looking somewhat baffled. "Am I to gather that the three of you want to ... date ... Brad?" Each of us nodded. "Oh, boy," he sighed and rubbed his head. His slut smirked behind him. "Shut up, Mike." She wasn't even trying to stifle her giggling now. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "That's right, Mr. Mayhem," I added frostily. "We want the right that any other free person does in this country. We want to see and be with whomever we want." "Its not that easy," he sighed and stood up to pace. "I hate admin work," he muttered. His bitch cackled even louder and leaned back obviously enjoying his discomfort. She must be one hell of a fuck for him to put up with this shit, I thought. "Look, do you understand why we instituted this policy?" he asked when he turned back to us. "To protect us from unscrupulous persons who might want to take advantage of people in our circumstances," Grace answered dryly. "You're afraid they would demand sex from us in return for their help or that we might feel obligated to give it as a way to pay back what we may feel we owe." "Exactly," he said with a smile. "We want to help you because it's the right thing to do; because of what your loved ones have already given. You are under no obligation to the VBS, me or our representatives we send out. This — ah — no-fraternization policy protects both us and you." "And you assume we're simple little scatter-brained females with tight skirts, no brains and no concept of how to show our gratitude other than to lie on our backs and spread our legs," she spat. "I don't appreciate that one little bit! Each one of us is a woman who has lost a husband, mothers who have had to raise our children alone and with damn little help from our precious government or anyone else for that matter! We've known what love is and God damn it, we deserve the right to try for it again!" Grace's hands were clenched tightly in her lap and tears were leaking from her eyes. I had to lean over and hug her. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you're saying," he started spreading his hands, "but how can we know..." "It's not fucking fair!" Sam screamed and jumped up. I've never seen anyone move so fast before in my life! One second the office bimbo was sitting there laughing at her sugar-daddy's dilemma and the next she's standing next to him eyes like pieces of black glass set in an emotionless face. Her whole body said death was centimeters away. The bimbo wasn't a bimbo at all! She was a highly trained and obviously deadly killer: his bodyguard! "I'm not going to hurt him," Sam said slightly bemused. The bodyguard relaxed and stepped back. "Oh you can hurt him if you want," she said moving back to her seat on the credenza where she again crossed her legs and picked up her nail buffer. "Just try not to leave any permanent marks." "Thanks," Mayhem said sarcastically. She laughed at him. "Well, you get what you pay for," he said to us and shrugged. She laughed again. "Now, I suppose Mr. Miller is in agreement with you in this?" he said looking down at a ram-rod straight Samantha Roebling who even in heels just barely came up to his chin. "He doesn't know anything about it," she sniffed. "We'll tell him when we're good and ready to tell him." "He doesn't even know about..." He suddenly sat down in his chair and sighed heavily. "How do you know he's even interested in you, any of you?" he asked finally. "We won't until we have a chance to actually do something about it," she said relaxing just a bit. "Each one of us think — believe — he has an interest that goes beyond what we think one of your reps would normally have. Laugh if you want ― call it woman's intuition ― but each one of has had felt it. Of course we all have more than just a passing interest in him or we wouldn't be here bearding the lion in his den." "All three of you? Together?" he asked sounding more bemused than outraged. "And each one of you has already agreed to this?" "We know it may be difficult, maybe even impossible," Grace said as she straightened up. "But he is one hell of a man and each of us would rather have one-third of him than none at all. We're willing to try." "I'm certainly not going to say it can't work," he chuckled. "You damn well better not, Boss," Michelle laughed from behind him. "You do and we'll just have to see what Lidia and Alee have to say about that." Lidia and Alee? That sounded interesting, very interesting. "Mike, you are a snitch and disloyal," he grumbled. She snickered. "So, Mr. Bradley Miller has no idea what you three have planned for him, does he? Maybe I'm trying to protect the wrong party. What happens if it turns out he's only interested in two of you, or only one, or none? What if he's only interested in a playing a little sheet music with the three of you? You are extremely attractive women; I couldn't fault him for that. He is a man after all." "Thank you, Captain Mayhem; I think I can speak for all of us when I say we appreciate the compliment," Sam said with a smile. "Please, just Dan or Daniel," he smiled back. "I'm not in the service anymore and I get enough of that crap as it is." "All that's a possibility, Daniel," Grace nodded. "We know that; we've talked about it. If it comes to that we've all agreed that whoever he doesn't want will back off. No screaming, crying, eye-gouging or knives. If it becomes a problem we'll ask for another representative and if that's not possible then we'll just opt out of your program. It would be our fault, not his, not yours." "It won't come to that," he assured us. "Even if this is an incredibly foolish thing to do and it blows up in our faces I'm not going to see your children suffer because we made poor choices." "Thank you, Cap— Daniel," I said. "Does this mean you're going to allow it? Allow us to try?" "What do we say about rules, Mike?" he said with a grin. "Rules is just guidelines," she answered in a sing-song, "and policies is just fuzzy rules. We don't need to follow no stinking fuzzy rules." "Yes, I'm going to allow it, this time," he said seriously. "Because you asked and I believe you when you tell me he knows nothing about it. I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourselves, though. If our clients screw up enough bal— courage to come in and ask for this then I'll consider it, but I'd rather not spend all my time playing dating service. "I am going to ask for one thing though," he said, very seriously this time. "Be gentle with him. If I had to choose between the three of you I don't think I could do it. But whatever his decision please let him go with his heart. You'll all be happier in the end. The three of you could crush him if he's the nice guy you think he is." "Thank you, Daniel," Samantha stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "We will, no matter what." Grace struggled to her feet and walked over to him. Instead of giving him a peck on the cheek though she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss right on the lips. "Whoa!" he breathed out when she finally let him loose. "He's a dead man walking." "We're going to take care of him," she promised. "That's good," he nodded. "Because his happiness is just as important to me as yours is." She patted his cheek and it was my turn. I hugged him, kissed his cheek but I just had to do one more thing. "I want to know who Lidia and Alee are," I whispered in his ear. He chuckled and said, "Tend to your own knitting, woman. I have enough problems as it is." "I'm telling, I'm telling," Michelle sang. "See?" he said jerking his thumb back there. "Enough problems of my own." ------- -Daniel- You want to catch a glimpse of hell? Deal with a bureaucracy. Doesn't matter which one, any one will do. I don't know how many fucking hours I spent wading through electronic forms trying to convince my benevolent and oh so paternalistic government the imminent collapse of the republic wasn't going to be precipitated by my bringing two lovely ladies into our great country and marrying them. You would have thought I was bringing in two of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse! After talking with some stupid bitch bureaucrat from the NSO (National Security Office; used to be called Homeland Security) in New Washington I half believed I'd been talking to a really stupid AI. I almost asked to have her put the coffee machine on; I'm sure it had more intelligence. Surprisingly enough the one place where I didn't have a problem was the one place I expected to get most of it: the Military. At first they were understandably concerned I intended to marry a foreign national, actually two of them, but one of them was technically a citizen of China who weren't exactly our bosom pals at that time. It only took them a couple of days before they convinced themselves she wasn't a spy planted to turn me using her wily ways and they okayed the whole thing. They did remind me in rather strong terms not to talk about you-know-who or you-know-what (pretty much ten years of my life) to anybody. In fact they hinted that if I were to go into a fit of despondency and eat the barrel of my gun they would be saddened but would eventually get over it. But as for the civilian side ... Argentina or Brazil were beginning to look better and better every day. Well, maybe not Brazil. They have stubbornly stuck with Portuguese down there instead of the Spanglish or Spanish the rest of SA spoke and my Portuguese was just good enough to get me slapped in any bar I happened to wander into down there but not of much use for anything else. Carla and Bill had launched the new Veteran's Party and membership was growing quickly but since we had no representation in congress or anywhere else for that matter they didn't have any pull to move the file pushers. At least while this stupidity was grinding on I got to see my girls every weekend. Sometimes it would be in Tampa and others I'd take the Tube over to Miami. If they came to Tampa I always had someone meet them and take them back. They said I was silly; they were perfectly safe and they were probably right but there's safe and then there's safe. I don't take chances with two of the most precious people in my life. Besides, Weird volunteered to do it most of the time, said it gave him time to be alone while riding the Tube and thinking. "Thinking" for Weird meant sitting still and staring off into space while things rumbled around in his mind that I'm sure I couldn't even begin to comprehend and probably wouldn't want to even if I could. It hurt not having them with me all the time but when we were together it was like they'd never been gone and they said the same thing. I wasn't about to put up with it for very long but it was partially acceptable for the short term. Besides they wore me out so much on those visits it took me a couple of days to recover. Hell, the smile didn't come off my face for three days! I'd like to say I was busy with wedding plans but that would be a lie. In fact I was forbidden ― that's right: forbidden! ― from doing anything other than offer suggestions about guests and what beer would be on tap at the reception. You want a simple but tasteful ceremony for your nuptials? Then let me give you a word of advice: do not, I repeat, do not, I say again a third time, do not let someone calling herself Antigua Delmar within half a hemisphere of it! Kathy and I had a perfectly wonderful, simple little wedding in the Academy chapel; that wasn't going to happen here. I'm not exactly sure how Tink took over running this Tube-line but she sure as hell did. How could she do that, you ask when she was on tour doing concerts almost every night and God only knows what kind of publicity shit during the day? Two words: money and bitchiness. If she couldn't bully someone via a vid-link (she can, believe me) she'd buy them off. You would have thought it was her wedding and not mine. Anyway it was probably a good thing she was on tour because if she had been around Tampa and underfoot I probably would have stuck a gun barrel in my mouth and made the military happy. I tried to reason with her: She was spending a lot of money and I was uncomfortable about that but she told me to fuck off. It was her present to us. I suppose we could have eloped but I have the feeling she would have tracked us down and had us dragged back to go through it a second time if needed. Actually I do have to thank her. During one of our vid calls ― she called me most nights after her concert ― I let it slip I was having trouble getting the required visas and permissions from NSO and she practically exploded. "They will not fuck up my schedule!" she screamed. I was going to say something about her language but what the hell did I have to threaten her with? I'd spank her hologram? It's stupid, I know, but being a celebrity gives you one hell of a lot of pull in politics. Why? Beats the shit out of me. Someone's opinion is worth more than mine just because they can act (read that as having a nice body and don't mind fucking in front of a vid-camera; it ain't like it used to be when the actors actually had talent) or can sing well enough to entice gobs of people to spend money to hear them? Maybe Tink's is; she's a pretty sharp little cookie, but most of the twits I've met who are considered her peers ... Well let's just say I'd rather listen to a hamster; the intellectual stimulation would be twice what I'd get from the twits and I'm not the brightest light on the board so that should tell you something. Where was I? Oh yeah, after Tink got a hold of it and elevated to the nuclear stage I started getting more "help" from New Washington than I ever wanted. I was getting more action than a two-credit hooker on Fleet night. That stupid bitch in NSO who before would have lost a sprint race with a glacier was suddenly moving like her tail was on fire and her ass was catching! Everything appeared to be coming together finally. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 16 -Daniel- Yes, everything appeared to be coming together. That isn't to say some mighty strange things didn't happen. There was this one time I remember ― it was just a couple of weeks before the wedding and the girls had just gone back to the Xanadu for the last time ― Mike wandered into the office looking bemused. "You looked bemused," I said demonstrating my superior ability to point out the obvious. "Befuddled, anyway," she admitted. She flopped down in a chair and kicked her legs up over the arm. Thank God she at least had started wearing panties around the office! "Oh?" I prompted. "Just got a call from Weird," she said and then stopped. "And? The girls are all right?" I asked starting to come out of my chair. "The girls are fine; got off on the shuttle right on time," she said with a wave and then paused again. "And?" I was getting a little pissed now. Pissed enough to jump the desk and start waling on some panty-covered ass and I told her exactly that. "How do you know I'm wearing panties?" she asked. "You're not exactly keeping it a secret," I answered waving in her general direction. "Oops, guess not," she didn't move. "Enjoy the view?" "Mike!" "Cool your jets, Boss," she laughed swinging her legs around and down to the floor. "Call from Weird... ?" I prompted. "Oh yeah, right. He called and said he was spending a few days in Miami." "Okay. So... ?" Weird running loose in Miami was something to be concerned about but not particularly noteworthy. Miami was a big town; he'd leave most of it standing. "Sooo, he said he just got married and he needed a few days to sort it out." "Married?" I didn't even know he was dating anybody and I said so. "Neither did I," she answered and then laughed. "Actually it sounded like he didn't know exactly what was going on." "Well, unless he asks for help we'll just see what happens," I mused. "Bet there's a good story behind it though." There was, but that's for later. ------- -Sumalee- Lidia and I were waiting in our assigned place: the bride's room in the back of the convocation center. That is what I said, a convocation center; it was the only place large enough to hold the hoard of attendees and close to another even larger reception hall. It had been my understanding that over the past few years weddings in the U.S. had become much more simplified affairs but then they haven't been directed by Antigua Delmar, now have they? Lidia and I would have been just as happy with a simple ceremony on the beach at sunset but then we had almost as little to say in the matter as Daniel did. Antigua is a bully and not afraid to use it. Lidia and I wore matching gowns which had given our little oppressor screaming fits: not that they were matching but that Lidia's had to be matched with mine. I was sure Daniel would recognize them. Mine was the same gown I had worn for him on that first night we made love. He had no idea what that gown symbolized back then but he would now. He will finally understand that I had given myself to him completely even then just as the two of us were going to do formally now. There was a knock at the door and Antigua poked her head in. "Hey, guys. You ready?" She looked more nervous then I think we felt. For us this was just a formality. We both said we were. "Ah, can I talk to you for just a second?" she asked after slipping inside and shutting the door. "Of course," I answered with a smile. I had anticipated this although Lidia said it would be after the ceremony. It looked like I had won: Lidia would be going first tonight. "Okay — ah — I have something I need to tell you," she said in a small, soft voice. This was so unlike the Antigua we had come to know. This was a nervous young woman. "First I want to tell you how happy I am you are marring Danny," she said after taking a deep breath. "Really, really happy. You are perfect for him and the three of you fit together like I've never seen anybody fit before." "But... ?" Lidia prompted. "No, no buts on this part," she said emphatically. "You two are going to be his wives and if anybody tries to say or do differently there will be hell to pay, and me." Then she looked at us and the nervousness vanished like fog on a sunny day. "You make him happy and that is important to me. The most important thing to me." "Now the but," I smiled. "Now the but," she admitted. "You're in love with him too," Lidia interjected. "How'd you... ?" she gasped. "Of course you'd know. Yeah, I'm in love with him. I'm so in love with him it hurts and I think he loves me, just a little anyway." "Oh, he loves you. There is no doubt about that," I said. "What form that love will take remains to be seen." "Yeah, it's not time yet," she nodded. "Not for me, not for him and not for you. You see I wanted you two to know up front how I felt because I'm going to be hanging around a lot. I don't think I can stay away. But I'm not trying to steal your man. I'd rather die that have you think I'm trying to do that." "Someday you want to be where we are today," Lidia said. "No, next to you," she corrected. "You want to be his third wife," I mused. "Third, fourth, fifth ... Whatever," she said waving her hands. "I don't care just so long as I get to be with him someday and if that someday ever comes it's going to be up to you two to make that decision." She paused and screwed up her face, "Well, and Danny too, I suppose. But if it gets to where I know it's right and he knows it's right then both of you will have to know it's right also." "I am glad you recognize that," I said honestly. "I can not promise you how we will decide when and if that times comes but I will promise the decision will be based on how it affects our husband and our family and not based on letting a pretty young woman join us in our bed." "That's all I'm asking for," she sniffed and ran over to me and gave me a bone-crushing hug. She did the same for Lidia. "You are going to start all of us crying," I scolded as I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes. I could see Lidia's eyes were sparkling from the same thing. "Brides are allowed to cry," she said pulling a tissue out from somewhere and blowing her nose. "But not the Maid of Honor." "It's my show; I can do whatever the hell I want to," she grinned even as a tear ran down her cheek. "Now, we are going to get you out there and married to that man or I'm going to start kicking some ass around here." "Yes, Sir!" I said snapping a mock salute. "Glad you know who's in charge here," she nodded as she herded us towards the door. Lidia bent down and quietly said, "If you ever find yourself in our bed you will find out soon enough who is really in charge here." I smiled as I looked straight ahead; I think Antigua shivered just a little. The door opened and we walked through it to find our man and our new life. Edited by Morgan ------- The End ------- Posted: 2009-01-25 Last Modified: 2009-02-08 / 03:37:54 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------