Bravo Force - Cover

Bravo Force

Copyright© 2007 by Robin Pentecost

Chapter 28: China

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 28: China - Prudence Whiteside is a brilliant manager. She's also a competent small force commander, a talent she denies. Terry Sideman runs a company that can use all her skills. The time: the mid-twenty-fifth century. A lot has changed but some things remain the same.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Slow  

Pru woke to the chime of the com. She roused, glanced at the time readout and frowned at being disturbed at four in the morning, thinking she had set the com not to disturb her. But, when she turned to the com screen, she was startled to see the logo of the OSG and quickly keyed for Voice Only.

"Prudence Whiteside," she said.

There was a hesitation, while, she assumed, voice recognition took place, and the logo was replaced by General Khan, seated at his desk. He smiled and nodded, a slight smile on his face.

"Good morning, Pru," he said, "sorry to wake you. I have a problem I need your help with."

"Just a moment, sir," Pru said, running her fingers through her hair. She reached for the remote, turned up the lights in the room and set the com for a view of her upper body. "How can I help you?" Her hands reached for the room's service module and she dialed for coffee.

I believe you are in Beijing?" Kahn asked.

Sue nodded. "I've been working on business development in the coastal CAs for the past few weeks.

"I checked your resume," the general went on, "and your language skills may be of use to us, as well as your knowledge of the local area." His grin acknowledged their earlier discussions. "I need an Operations Manager for a rather delicate mission in the Xinjiang area. Can you detach yourself for a few days?"

"Of course, sir; if you have no one else." Her coffee arrived, and she took a sip.

"Frankly, Pru, I don't. You know our operations, you know the new management concept, and you know the language and country. I'll be putting you in touch with a Case Operator here who has the details, but let me just say that we are dealing with a kidnapping or hostage situation in Xinjiang. We need to resolve the matter quickly. In addition to the Case Operator, I'm assigning a local SO force to you. The commander — she is Captain Jiang Lia-Chu — will contact you shortly. The Case Operator's name is Luther Mies. If you need anything else, please let me know."

Pru set her cup down; her spine tingled with a hunch. "General, I'm not sure why I'm asking this, but could Captain al-Khud lend me his Sergeant Major?"

"Sergeant O'Leary? I'll ask him. Do you want her immediately?"

"General, I haven't the foggiest idea what I'm doing. I need help. Please send her as soon as you can."

"I'll get back to you on that. In the meantime, here is Mr Mies."

The general's face was replaced by the image of a heavy-set man with dark hair. He was sitting at a desk that was clearly in the Neo-Tantra offices, but he quickly zoomed the view to his upper body, as was common courtesy.

"Good morning, Ms Whiteside," he said, "I'm afraid it's rather early where you are. Sorry about that."

"Call me Pru, please. Anyway, the general got my attention rather quickly." She punched the service unit for breakfast.

"He has a way of doing that. And call me Luther."

"So, what's up?"

"Have you ever heard of Turpan? It's in Xinjiang province."

"Yes, I know the place. Pretty nasty, unless you live there and love it. I spent a few months in Kashgar when I was a kid. The climate is a little harsh."

Luther chuckled. "That's an understatement. Well, that's where we have our problem. Seems there's a fellow there who's gotten some of his followers to kidnap a number of people and hold them hostage."

"Who are these people?"

"I'll send you a list of the hostages. From appearances — the names, that is — they are all ethnic Han Chinese. The guy who started this is a local boy, name of Elik Baltar. We don't have much on his background, but he's been active in Turpan for some time as a religious organizer — he's Muslim."

"He's a Uighur, too, from his name. Is he an imam?" Pru interrupted.

"No, he's not. But, he hangs out at the mosques a lot, and seems to be supported by unknown funds. Someone's bankrolling him, and he does the dirty work. We've got a few people out there who are tracing his sources, but nothing definite yet.

"Anyway, it seems Baltar has been telling people that the current economic problems in the area are all the fault of the Han population. He says that the Han aren't Muslims nor are they Uighur, and that they should be somehow expelled from the parts of Xinjiang that, he says, belong to the Uighur." He looked up from his notes. "You know about the Uighur?"

Pru nodded and responded, "Most of the population of western Xinjiang is ethnic Uighur. They're Turkic-speakers descended from nomads. Until about 200 years ago, a lot of them still raised cotton and sheep." She looked at him again. "Is this guy Baltar using any religious justification for this?"

Luther looked surprised. "Why, yes. The old 'out with the infidels' thing. Do you know about this?"

Pru chuckled. "No, Luther. But, you should read your history. For centuries, fanatics of one sort or another in that area have used the same excuse to try and get rid of the Han. There was even a Wahabbist revolt there back in the 20th century. They're traditional enemies, even though the populations have intermarried for — what? — 300 years. Of course, the Han have tried to increase their population there, too, but not really since the UN has taken over world government."

Luther was impressed. "Well, they've taken these 30 or so hostages and are demanding economic and cultural concessions from the OSG. Mainly, they say the OSG must remove Han landowners from the area and restore 'traditional' life to the original Uighur residents. They aren't too specific about that, but they do say that, if we don't meet their demands in ten days, they'll execute the hostages."

"Ten days from when?"

"Actually, on the last day of this month."

"That's nine days left. Is anyone talking to them? And, who is it? I need to talk with whoever it is."

"Actually, I have spoken with their contact person, but only once. Basically, I told them that OSG policy is that we will not discus anything until the hostages are freed."

"And, they laughed at you."

Luther's face reddened. "Right. But, I left it at that. I told them we would be in touch."

"What about the comNews?"

"Actually, they broke the story. Baltar commed them and told them what he's done, and what his demands are. We've stonewalled, saying we have had no reports from the field."

"Good. Squawk me this guy's CID. I'll need to establish contact from here."

"All right." Luther touched his remote and the CID appeared on Pru's screen, her com beeped as it received the information. She could see there was a call waiting.

"Luther, right now, I need to get organized. I have to meet with my SO commander and find out what's happening here. Squawk me any information you have now so I can be up to speed when I talk to her, and I'll be back to you in a couple of hours."

They closed the connection and Pru took a bite or two of breakfast before acknowledging the call that was waiting. The square face of a Han Chinese woman in SO uniform filled the screen.

"I am Captain Jiang," she stated bluntly, and in English.

Pru replied in her fluent Mandarin, "I am Prudence Whiteside. I am pleased to meet you. I hope you have not been kept waiting. If so, you have my apologies. I was talking to our Case Operator."

The captain's eyes widened slightly. "You speak excellent Mandarin, Ms Whiteside."

"Thank you. I think it is essential that we meet as soon as possible. Where are you?"

"I am at the OSG offices here in Beijing."

"I know where they are. I will be there as quickly as the slideways can get me there."

They closed the connection in a formal way and Pru finished her breakfast, took a shower and dressed. Because this was Beijing, she put on a fitted silk top, in the style of a cheong sam, which went with her kilt. Otherwise, she wore her knife and carried her remote in her shoulder bag. At the last minute, she put on her wrist com, and the ear cuffs and throat-mike necklace that went with it. Riding down in the elevator, she contacted Luther.

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