Chapter 130

Two weeks later – Ben (Valentin), Jens (Dasha), Ira and Mira – On the mission

I can’t believe how well the mission is going and so far there have been no problems whatsoever. We pick up the devices we need in Kazakhstan, substitute them for the items that the diplomatic box already contained, close it up and make sure the diplomatic seals were evident (the diplomatic shipments are thanks to Mira and Ira and are necessary for the mission). We already made one stop to drop off one item from the diplomatic box and are headed to the second stop. Dasha was finally less peeved because she is no longer the only one wearing a burka since both Mira and Ira are subject to that torture (as Dasha described it to me when we were in a private place without listening devices).

After stopping in Mecca, we are now headed to Medina to the Mosque of the Prophet to drop off another item from the diplomatic box. We were on the nice as hell Haramain High Speed Railway instead of an airplane because it was only 339 kilometers between the cities. Also, the security on the train wasn’t as high as on the plane. We had one more stop after this, but the security there was going to be hell - if we are going to get caught it will be there. Thank God we have a different strategy for that country. I don’t think we could have brought the devices we used in Mecca and are going to use in Medina into that country without being caught...

It was about fricken time that Mira and Ira had to finally wear burkas just like mine! I was going to complain to Valentin, but I knew he would pretend to be Muslim and tell me to shut up. At least they had good air conditioning on the train, so I wasn’t drenched in sweat. But there sure wasn’t much to see if you looked out the window. I knew when we stopped that would all change. Valentin told a joke that made me a little angry. He said, ‘What’s the difference between a catfish and a Muslim woman? One has whiskers and smells like a fish and the other is a fish.’ I threatened to not take a shower and he quickly apologized for the joke.

The train arrives at the station and it is time to begin to sweat again. We get off the train, walk outside and it is of course hotter than heck and I instantly began to sweat. Our luggage and the diplomatic box comes so Valentin approaches a taxi and negotiates for travel to our hotel room. Son of a gun! That reminds me of one other thing that I hate on this part of the trip: Gone were the separate rooms so we have one large room that Valentin and I share with Mira and Ira. Yeah, they were always around so Valentin and I couldn’t make whoopee. In Mecca I suggested that Mira and Ira take a walk and they promptly reminded me that women could not go out unless they were accompanied by a man – what a fricken-fracken backwards country we were in!

Valentin comes to an agreement on a taxi and the driver comes over, takes our bags accompanied by the diplomatic box, and loads them into the taxi. We all climb in and are off to our hotel, the Medina Oberoi. I couldn’t wait to get to our room, escape this fricken-fracken torture device and take a shower! Perhaps Valentin might even shower with me because I was going a little crazy from not making whoopee with him...

I am very pleased with the progress of this mission and look forward to its completion after one more stop. I will even be more thankful when we dispose of this device in the diplomatic box because I am tasked to carry it in a false pregnancy stomach. In the next country, because of a change in strategy, both Mira and I will perpetrate the charade...

I do not understand why Muslim women subject themselves to the torture of a burka. Yes, I share Dasha’s feelings about this terrible accoutrement. We are driving to the hotel, Dasha leans over and says something to Valentin and he finally orders the driver to turn on the air conditioning so I discover some relief from this heat...

We arrive at the hotel, the bellhop comes out with his cart, loads up the diplomatic box and our suitcases and takes us into the lobby. I’m in shock as this place is nice as fuck - too bad we are only staying the night.

We head to our room, which is strange as hell because there are three fucking beds in the room. I decide that’s fine since one will be for Dasha and me while Mira and Ira will get their own beds. We’re no sooner in the room and the bellhop leaves when Dasha begins to remove her burka. I caution, “Даша не пока я подметать комнату.”

Dasha not until I sweep the room.

Dasha whines, “Валентин, поторопись, я хочу душ.”

Valentin, hurry up, I want a shower.

I take the bug detector out of my suitcase, begin to sweep the room and unfortunately it finds a bug. I call the front desk and complain in Farsi, “This room is totally unsuitable for us.”

They apologize profusely, the bellhop comes again and moves us to a different room. This room unfortunately has two large beds so I guess Mira and Ira will double up.

I sweep this room, it comes back clean and Dasha complains, “Пора!”

It’s about time!

She strips off her burka as I’m watching and says, “I’m going to shower, does anyone want to join me?”

I catch her drift and reply, “I’ll be right in with you.” and begin to take off my clothes.

Mira complains, “Mr. and Ms. Blaine, please do not take too long copulating, we still need a shower.”

Dasha laughs and teases, “Just for that we might copulate twice.”

It was good to have sex again with my wife. Sharing a room to ‘keep up appearances’ was driving both of us crazy. We made up for it in the shower when we did the deed twice.

As we came out of the shower Mira, wearing a robe dashed, into the shower. Dasha laughs and says, “I warned her.”

Ira states, “I checked the device in the diplomatic box, it is still functional. What will we order for dinner?”

I find the menu from the restaurant, look at it and find it’s great. I suggest, “I’m thinking I will get a steak.”

Dasha adds, “That sounds good for me.”

I remind them, “Remember that the steak will come well done or it won’t be halal¹.”

¹ Halal - Halal is Arabic for permissible. Halal food is that which adheres to Islamic law, as defined in the Koran. The Islamic form of slaughtering animals or poultry, dhabiha, involves killing through a cut to the jugular vein, carotid artery and windpipe. Animals must be alive and healthy at the time of slaughter and all blood is drained from the carcass. During the process, a Muslim will recite a dedication, known as tasmiya or shahada.

Ira states, “I think I would prefer chicken.”

I hand her the menu, she peruses it and says, “Mira and I will have Chicken Kiev.”

I remind her, “That will come without the usual bacon.”

Ira dismissively waves her hand and says, “That is fine with me.”

I call and place the order. Of course they don’t even ask how I want the steaks cooked. Mira finishes her shower and Ira heads into the shower while Mira complains, “How many times did you copulate in the shower?”

Dasha grins at her and answers, “Twice of course, but don’t worry we might take another shower later.”

Mira chides, “You two are like young teenagers...”

Dasha interrupts with a counter, “ ... You’re wrong since we’re worse than that.”

Before it gets out of hand I say, “Ira told me to order you Chicken Kiev.”

Mira says, “That is good as I am very hungry.”

Dasha agrees, “Yeah, it’s hard work wearing a burka all day.”

I get into trouble when I say, “I don’t know, it’s sort of nice seeing everyone wearing the same thing.”

Dasha complains, “So Valentin, you’d rather see me wearing a burka or one of my LBDs?”

I retreat and admit defeat, “Sorry my love, I was just kidding.”

Ira comes out of the bathroom and complains, “Mira, you partook of all the towels.”

Mira giggles and I know there’s going to be a fight so I say, “Don’t worry, I will call the desk and ask for more.”

I make the call and in just a few minutes there’s a knock on the door. All three women dash into the bathroom, I open the door and find it’s our meals. The waiter sets up the food and leaves so immediately the women run out of the bathroom and begin to attack the meals.

Ira complains, “I miss the dried fish and beer.”

Mira agrees, “Yes it was good partaking of that again in Kazakhstan.”

I fake gagging and complain, “When I was in Russia, that was part of my MRE and I wouldn’t eat it.”

Ira asks, “Don’t tell me you threw it away?”

I smile and say, “No, I fed it to Destiny.”

They give me a strange look and Dasha questions, “Destiny was in Russia with you?”

I decided a long answer was in order so I tell them about my mission in Russia. When I finish Mira remarks, “Mr. Blaine we did not know of this mission. And pray tell how did Destiny translocate to Russia?”

I reply, “Even though Destiny didn’t come with us on this mission, I think if I really needed her she would be here rather quickly and I’ve never really asked about how she does things.”

There’s another knock on the door and once again the women run into the bathroom. I open the door and it’s the towels I asked for.

They hear the door close, come back out of the bathroom and we finish our dinners.

When we’re finished with dinner I suggest, “We should get some sleep.”

Ira complains, “I hope you two will not attempt coitus and keep us awake.”

Dasha says brightly, “Hey, I didn’t think of that.”

Mira complains, “Mrs. Blaine, do not lie. We know you always think about coitus.”

Dasha giggles and states, “I was a good girl and waited until I was married so now I can think about it as much as I want.”

We turn out the lights and Dasha tries to talk me into sex...

Sometime later – Liz and Desiree – At the cabin

The cabin was finished about a week ago and we moved out of the tunnels and into a really nice room, which of course made Bernie happier. Thom held a big celebration party where Mabel made her usual great food and even experimented with some tapas. Our room was incredible: It even had a little anteroom for Desiree which Thom had decorated nicely for our little girl.

OMG she was so cute and sweet! I couldn’t believe how much fun it was taking care of her. It seemed like every day she did something that made us laugh. The only problem was Jens wasn’t here to enjoy this with me.

My phone rings, it is Samantha so I answer and ask, “Hello Sam, what do you need?”

Samantha says, “Liz, many of the viewers at the station are clamoring for a new story on Ben and Jennifer...

I interrupt, “ ... Sorry Sam, but they aren’t here right now and I don’t know when they will be back.”

Sam picks up on the hidden part of my answer and replies, “I suppose I shouldn’t try to figure out where they are.”

She pauses for a moment to think then continues, “Liz, do you have any ideas about a story I can do on them to keep our viewers happy.”

I think for a moment and suggest, “Sam, the cabin is finished so if Thom approves, you could do a story on the cabin.”

Sam ponders my suggestion for a few short moments and says, “You know it could sort of be like a Phoenix story - the cabin rising out of the ashes.”

I like her ideas and expand on them, “While you’re at it you could interview the young mothers who were the root of the ashes and ask them how they feel about what they did.”

Sam asks, “Young mothers? Don’t tell me that Zarika and Safia had their babies.”

I laugh and explain, “They certainly did. It’s like baby central here right now.”

Sam enumerates, “Let’s see, there’s Desiree, Jennifer and the two babies from Zarika and Safia. With all those babies, how does anyone get any sleep?”

I explain, “I don’t know much about Safia’s and Zarika’s babies since they more or less stay to themselves with Alexi. Bernie is such a help that my sleep is okay and Maria is old enough to sleep through the night. The worst problem is the diapers; if this keeps up we will need to have them delivered by the semi-truck load and open our own sanitary landfill.”

Sam giggles and says, “Heck, I could probably do a story on how everyone is living in the cabin with so many babies around.”

I remember something so I ask, “Sam, there might be a story that you could cover when Alexi marries Zarika, Safia and Yasmeen.”

Sam pauses for a moment and asks, “Wait, he’s going to marry all three of them? How in the world can he do that?”

I inform her, “He says it’s a tradition from Kazakhstan that he can have more than one wife.”

Sam raises some doubt, “I’m not sure about that in this country but I will look into it. And why would one man want more than one wife?”