Chapter 3

As Dwight meets me at the door it snaps me out of my flashback. He gives me a hell of a hug, pulls back and says, "What the fuck are you doing wearing that tactical gear from a bank? It looks like crap."

I explain and then agree with him, "Hey, it's just a disguise I used to get out of the bank. And it is crap."

He continues, "Get your ass inside before someone thinks something is going on." I walk into the "shop" and see it's different than before: It's even better. Dwight notices me scanning the walls and says, "It's sure good as hell to have someone walk in here that really appreciates fine weapons."

Yes I greatly appreciate the "shop"! To think that on the outskirts of DC there would be a place that houses so many excellent weapons still amazes me. I answer, "Dwight, this looks even better than the last time I was here. I see you've stayed on top of the game."

He chuckles and replies, "Banzai, you don't know the half of it! This is just the room the regulars get to see. I have a special room just for friends like you."

The thought of a special room almost makes me salivate so I tease, "Well, are you going to show me this special fucking room or let me die of old age just having wet dreams about it?"

He motions for me to follow him into the back room, walks up to a bookcase, looks over his shoulder to make sure no one but me is watching and pulls on War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. The book case swings out, we step into an entry way as I laugh and remark, "War and Peace that's some book you chose to use for this."

He looks at me as a fellow conspirator and explains, "Yeah that's your fucking fault. After you saved my ass in Morocco and talked to me so much about how I should improve myself on the trip home, I figured I needed some classics in my life." There was a huge steel safe door at the end of the entry way and we approach it.

Dwight starts turning the knob as I ask, "So, have you ever read War and Peace?"

He turns, looks sheepish, (I know he hasn't) but he says, "Well, I did look it up on 'Book-A-Minute'. It says, ' History controls everything we do, so there is no point in observing individual actions. Let's examine the individual actions of over 500 characters at great length.' Once I read that I figured I had read enough."

I about bust a gut laughing and reply, "'Book-A-Minute', what the fuck is that? Is it something like Tolstoy for dummies, or even better, Sex in a minute? You need to read War and Peace in the original Russian."

He gives me a nasty look and responds, "Yeah we all know your abilities in Russian just about cost you your life."

Damn, I haven't thought about that mission for a long time. I continue the banter. "Shit! It wasn't knowing Russian that wounded me, it was the fucking idiots I had to work for and with." As if by magic the mere mention of the mission set the old wounds to aching. Dwight notices and says, "Yeah my leg gives me hell when I think about the mission where you and Jack saved my ass. Sorry for bringing up that mission."

I wave him off and reply, "Anyone who's done their job well has a few aches and pains to deal with. It's really nothing."

Dwight enters the last number in the combination lock, turns a big handle, pulls the door open, looks back at me and says, "Welcome to Oz, Dorothy."

My mouth drops open as we step into a massive vault! There are weapons on the wall I'm not sure I've ever seen. I look around at the beauty and splendor and respond, "Toto I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

Dwight closes the door, chuckles and says, "Yeah, I've worked hard to get some of these and the ones I couldn't get I made myself. Now that we're alone and away from prying ears which shouldn't hear what we say - what the fuck is really going on with you?"

I start with, "Dwight we both need to sit down." We pull up chairs, sit, and I do my best to explain almost everything to him. There are still things that ... since I can hardly admit them to myself, how the fuck am I going to explain it to him?

He scowls at me and growls, "Banzai, I know you're not telling me everything. And I hope what you're not telling me makes up for the chicken shit thing you did to your fiancée. You're lucky as hell she doesn't hunt you down."

I look at him and give him the best answer I can. "Dwight that's one of the reasons I'm here. I know she's going to be pissed as hell at me and she will try to hunt me down. So not only do I need some weapons from you, I also need several new identities and disguises plus a few medical supplies."

He looks long and hard at me and replies, "Shit Banzai! It isn't like you to run away..."

He never gets to finish because I jump to my feet, get in his face and curse. "Listen here you bastard! I'm not doing any of this for me! This is the hardest damn thing I've ever done and I'm doing it so she can have the sort of life she deserves - and that I can no longer give her. I thought I could count on you to help me, but it's plain to me that you won't."

I turn and start to walk away, but Dwight says, "Dammit Banzai! You know I'd give my left nut for you. Sorry I offended you but this just isn't like you and I need make sure you're doing the right thing."

I glare at him and answer, "Dwight, the only thing you need to do is either help me or not. Can't you see this has me torn up inside?"

He shakes his head sadly and replies, "Well, I sure as hell see it now. Sit your ass back down and let's make a list of the things you need."

I sit down and pull the list out of my pocket. He looks it over and says, "Banzai, what the fuck sort of list is this? Many of these weapons are non-lethal. And what the hell is this medicine doing on here?"

I reply in anger, "Dwight, give me my damn list back. I'm fucking leaving." I reach for my list and he moves his hand so I can't get it. Then he says, "Look Banzai, I have no idea what the fuck is going on with you. But I can see you're serious about it and of course I will do my best to help you. It would just be easier if you could tell me everything."

I look at him and say, "NALTS!"

A grin slowly spreads across his face as he answers, "Okay, you've made your point and I do owe you a debt. But next time you come in here for help, I'm going to kick your ass if you tell me NALTS."

I reply, "Well, it's not like you're a bartender whose job is to listen to everything people tell him."

Dwight jumps quickly, and as his leg reminds him of his old injury, grabs his leg and says, "Shit, I keep forgetting about my damn leg. But you reminded me, I've got some bourbon you have to try." He heads over to a shelf and pulls down a bottle.

I state, "Dwight only half a finger - I'm on a mission."

He turns, damn near drops the bottle and says, "Well fuck me silly! I never thought you'd become an almost teetotaler."

I grin and explain, "After this mission, I'll come back here and we'll have a real drink, but right now I can't."

He pours what ends up being one finger. I take the glass, inhale the oaky aroma, take a sip and let swirl it in my mouth. It's one of the smoothest bourbons I've ever tasted. I have to know. "Okay Dwight you have my curiosity going what bourbon is this?"

He replies, "Yeah I thought you'd appreciate that - it's Parker's Heritage Collection, 'Golden Anniversary'."

I take another sip and analyze the situation, "Dammit, this is too good to throw away the other half finger. You did that on purpose didn't you?"

He grins and seals the deal, "Plus, it's one-hundred-fifty dollars a bottle so you'd better not waste it."

He glances at my list again and says, "You know I'm going to need to make some phone calls for some of this. Do you mind?"

I take another sip and answer, "Dwight, if you trust them, it's good enough for me. You mind if I have a look around?"

He answers, "Knock yourself out, nothing's loaded."

He starts making some phone calls, and I start looking at weapons ... and modifying my list.

Present — Liz — Jens' hospital room Ramstein Air Field Germany

Jens wakes up and immediately demands, "I'm a hungry-hungry hippo - where's my fricken-fracken food."

Ira replies, "Ms. Donaldson, I will go and bring you some food right away."

Jens rudely orders, "I want fricken breakfast. Pancakes and French toast and a bunch of scrambled eggs and a couple pounds of bacon and don't forget the sausage and lots and lots and lots of butter and syrup. Oh, and some coffee."

I grin at Ira as she says, "Yes Ms. Donaldson, I will be back as soon as possible with your impossible order." She turns and leaves but doesn't see Jens stick her tongue out at her comment.

I move over and sit on the bed beside Jens and ask, "Jens, how do you feel today?"

She giggles, "Liz, I told you I'm hungry as heck."

I give her the look and say, "You know what I really mean."

She looks down at her bed, fumbles with the covers and says, "Yeah Liz I know. I feel fine physically, but I well - I know I don't really still act right. But I'm really, really, really trying Liz."

I decide I really need to test Jens to see if she if her mind is damaged. I think for a moment, come up with a question I know the old Jens would answer quickly and I ask, "Hey Jens, I've got a game for you, would you like to play?"

She looks up at me, claps her hands together and says, "Oh goodie I love games. I hope I'm good at this one."

I smile at her and start the game. "Jens there was a time when you were one of the best ever, so here's the question: You're firing a rifle at a target eight-hundred yards away, and you're at eight-thousand feet elevation. How far will the bullet drop before it reaches the target?"

Wow, did I ever get her attention! She replies right away, "Liz you didn't give me nearly enough information. I need to know the bullet manufacturer, caliber and weight, the zero range of the rifle and the scope height."

Shit! I don't have any idea what she is talking about so I look at Mira for help. She smiles, comes over to the bed and says, "Ms. Donaldson, you are using m-one-one-eight-l-r ammo. The rifle zero is one-hundred yards and the scope height is one-point-seven-five inches."

Mira certainly shocks me but not as much as Jens amazes me when she spits right out, "This is easy-peasy. You didn't give me the temperature but at eight-hundred yards it doesn't matter it's a steady 6.9 mils¹.

¹ Milradian or 1/1000 of a radian which works out to 3.438 MOA which is commonly rounded to 3.44. Let's do the math on the bullet drop and convert it to inches 6.9 3.44 = 23.7 MOA but an MOA at 800 yards is eight inches so 23.7 8 = 189.8 inches of bullet drop.

I look at Mira and she nods her head. Jens says, "I like this game, give me some more questions!" I look at Mira but she announces, "Ms. Donaldson, would you rather have more questions or eat. Because I hear Ira coming with you breakfast."

Jens rudely yells, "I want food! I need food!"

Sure enough, Ira walks into the room with a huge tray of food and sets it in front of Jens. She digs right in and mumbles with her mouth full, "Thanks Ira, this is perfect."

Mira motions both of us to the far side of the room and says...

Present — Mira and Ira — Jens' hospital room Ramstein Air Field Germany

"Ira, Ms. Morgan was very smart and asked Ms. Donaldson to range compensate for altitude."

Ira looks with surprise and queries, "Ms. Morgan you knew all the parameters."

I laugh and say, "No Ira, I had to give her many of the parameters."

Ms. Morgan answers, "Jens gave me the answer right away. Does this mean she's okay?"

We look over at her and she is shoveling the food in her mouth at a tremendous rate of speed. I answer, "She would have memorized the data for the bullet I gave her. But she was able to answer immediately. I would agree with the doctor, her mind is fine and for some reason she just acts like a teenager."

Ms. Donaldson is already finished so she lets out a huge burp and giggles. "That was sure tasty. Now I'm going to brush my teeth and take a shower. Hey Liz, when can we get on the plane back to America because I can't wait to surprise my Ben?" She accidentally knocks her tray on the floor. It makes a huge noise, everyone jumps and Ms. Donaldson says, "Oh Rats! Don't worry anyone, I'll clean up my mess." Then she starts picking things up.

Ms. Morgan answers Ms. Donaldson and says, "I'll get the plane ready." Ms. Donaldson finishes cleaning up her mess and skips to the bathroom. Ms. Morgan looks at us and requests, "Will one of you please get the nurse for the discharge instructions while I call for the plane."

I say to Ira in our special language, "Ira please get the nurse, and check with our agents to see if they have found Mr. Blaine. I will listen in on Ms. Morgan's phone call and also make sure things are safe for us to land in America."

Ira replies, "Thank you sister. With the many things happening in America, Ms. Morgan and Ms. Donaldson could be in grave danger."

I smile and answer, "Ira, I have been able to hear the news report in the next room. Things are not as bad in America as they were. It seems their President was forced to flee the county in disgrace, and he is rumored to be hiding out in a Muslim country. The President of Vice was inept and was removed so America is now under the control of the Speaker of the House."

Ira laughs and says, "I told you he was a Muslim - you owe me sister. And the Speaker is much better than the President of Vice so I think he will make America safe soon." Ira changes the subject, "I do have a big concern about you my sister, what happens to your hearing when there is a very loud noise such as gunfire?"

I smile at her, "Ira I was very concerned about it, but when Ms. Donaldson knocked the tray to the floor it did not bother me."

Ira leaves the room and I listen in on Ms. Morgan's phone call. There is nothing interesting about it, so I go back to listening to the news report in the next room. It is hard to listen because Ms. Donaldson is humming the wedding march in the shower and it is very distracting.

Present — Ben — Washington DC the "shop"

I feel like a fucking kid in a candy store because there's everything here I could ever want and more. But I think I know what I need for this mission and I don't want to be greedy. I pull what looks to be part of a crossbow off the wall and ask, "Hey Dwight what the hell is this for?"

He finishes his phone call, comes over and says, "Watch this." He grabs an M4 off the wall, pulls the upper off and puts the crossbow in its place. I ask, "So is this thing any good?"

He laughs, "You bet it is. About four-hundred feet per second with a four-hundred-twenty-five grain bolt."

I do the math and say, "Shit! That's about one-hundred-forty-five foot pounds of kinetic energy. What about its accuracy?"

Dwight looks at me and grins, "You're going to be Robin Hood² at fifty yards."

² Robin Hood — Split the arrow or same hole.

I keep looking on the same wall and I pull down another upper. Dwight laughs and says, "You've got a good eye."

I say, "Hey, I wasn't captured forever and I've always wanted one of these - a single-shot M4 upper in three-thirty-eight Lapua." I grin at him, and continue, "Since the M4 lower has become a full weapons platform, where's your three-thirty-eight whisper and fifty Beowulf?"

He hands me the uppers and I swear, "Shit! I can't carry all this crap at once because they and the ammo would weigh two-hundred fucking pounds. Here's what I want." And I name off a totally changed list.

Dwight shakes his head, "Yeah all that is very doable, but I need to make a phone call for a couple of the unusual things. And I sure as hell don't understand your weapon choice. By the way, what's that piece of crap pistol you're carrying?"

I pull out the Taurus, drop the mag, clear the chamber and hand it to him. He gives it the evil eye and says, "Fuck! What are you doing carrying this plastic piece of shit?"

I answer, "It was all I could get at the time and is much better than the piece of crap Glock I took off the bastard with the car. Besides it holds twelve and one."

He offers, "Come over here and look at this." He locks open the slide and hands me a Para Ordinance clone of a 1911. The first thing I ask is, "Where the fuck is the hammer."

He grins and says, give it here a minute. He drops the slide, then he hands it back and says, "Pull the trigger."

I squeeze the trigger, it feels like a nice three pound pull and I wait and wait and wait and finally after what seems like a pull that takes forever, the trigger breaks cleanly and goes click. I look over at Dwight and say, "Well that's certainly one fucked up trigger."

He laughs and comments, "I just wanted to see if you would flinch waiting for the trigger to break. That's the Para LDA³ trigger and you're either going to love it or hate it."

³ Para Ordinance LDA — Light Double Action trigger - a "solution" for a problem that doesn't exist. Carrying a 1911 cocked and locked is very safe, but is not allowed by most law enforcement agencies. So Para came up with a way to make the 1911 a "safer" pistol.

I reply, "Well, what the hell is wrong with a good 1911 single action trigger."

He goes, "Okay, we know you hate it so try this one."

He locks the slide open and hands me another Para Ordinance 1911 clone. This one looks normal, so I drop the slide, take aim and it goes click like any good 1911.

Dwight notices I'm using my left hand and asks, "So your right arm's too fucked up right now for good work?"

I look at him and lament, "Yeah, I can use it if I have to but it's not very comfortable." I ask, "The grip seems wider on this, what's going on?"

He hands me a mag and I know right away when I see eighteen holes in the back and I say, "Shit! This is a double stack mag in ten millimeter."

He grins as he answers, "Yeah it started life as a P-sixteen-forty in forty-short-and-weak⁴. I put in a new barrel, fixed the mags and wham, bam thank you ma'am you've got a smoking ten."

⁴ Forty-short-and-weak — .40 S&W for those who can't handle a real 10mm.

I notice the ports in the top of the barrel and ask, "It looks like you did a bit more work here too?"

I can tell I've hit his hot button as he explains, "Yeah! That tames this baby down. She now kicks like a nine."

I challenge him, "I would like to see that."

He continues, "Well that we can certainly do, but we need to go back into the shop. There's a sound proof firing range in the back."

I comment, "Now I remember that." We walk out of the vault carrying my new weapons. Dwight locks the vault, closes the bookcase and says, "Your other stuff will be here tomorrow."

I panic, "Shit! I don't have any place to stay. Think I can crash here for the night?"

He nods his head and answers, "I was going to give you shit again about dumping her, but I know it won't do any good. You might as well crash here."

I pull out the rest of my cash and say, "This is all I have right now, but I can get more tomorrow."

Dwight gets pissed and argues, "You should know better! Your money's no good here. Put that away before I kick your ass."

I answer, "Well at least let me buy the beer and pizza."

He grins and says, "Now that you can do."

I offer, "How about I sneak out and scare the hell out of one of those wannabe snipers and send him after it."

He laughs, "Make sure you don't scare him so bad he craps his pants. I don't want the shop all stunk up."

Present — Liz — Flight back to America

We were going to have a bunch of armed Marines escort us on this flight. But with things getting better in America, and with Mira and Ira on the plane, Glen decided we would be fine.

However, Jens made it a fucking three ring circus getting her, Glen and Evelyn on the plane. We'd made a huge mistake and she had whole fucking pot of coffee with her "breakfast." It wired her to the gills and she bounced off the walls. Thank God once she got on the plane she promptly crashed. Evelyn is on a gurney in the front of the plane, Glen is sleeping in the back of the plane and I'm sitting beside Jens and ... Oh My God, what the hell is that smell! I look over at Mira and Ira and they start running for the front of the plane with me right behind them.

We get up front and Ira says, "Ms. Morgan, I believe something crept up into Ms. Donaldson's nether regions and expired."

I laugh so hard I cry and say, "Ira, you mean to say, something crawled up her ass and died."

Mira answers, "Yes Ms. Morgan that is what Ira said." I just shake my head.

Evelyn looks over at us and says, "What's so funny?"

Her voice grates on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. It's her fucking fault things are so fucked up and with Ben taking off the bitch finally got her fucking way! I dream for a moment about choking her and I actually start moving towards her. Ira stops me and says, "Ms. Morgan please do not do something you will regret."

The stress of the emotions are too much so I collapse in Ira's arms and cry, "Why did this all have to happen? Why did that fat bitch have to finally get her way?"

Evelyn yells, "What in the world is she talking about? Why is she calling me a fat bitch and how did I finally get my way?"

I break away from Ira, get in the bitch's face and yell, "You nasty fucking fat bitch. You finally fucked things up so much that Ben has left Jens. And when she finds out she's never going to talk to you again."

Mira gives me a shocked look and points behind me. I turn and see Jens looking at me - but more like looking through me. I've never seen this look on her face. I watch the fire rise in her eyes as she sputters, "Ben-Ben-Ben has left me? Liz what the hell are you talking about!"

Oh Shit! I answer, "Jens, this isn't the way I wanted to tell you this. But Ben left a note in his hospital room for you and has disappeared."

Realization sweeps over her face that Ben is really gone. She glares at me and yells, "Liz you fucking bitch! Just how long have you known about this."

Son of a bitch, the old Jens is back, swearing like a sailor and she's angrier than I've ever seen. I need to try to defuse this situation so I answer, "Jens we found out about it a couple days ago and we have been doing everything we can to find him."

She gives me an evil grin and swears, "You backstabbing bitch! Instead of treating me like a sister you hide this from me. Didn't you think I have some fucking resources that could help? I bet you just wanted him for yourself!"

I start to cry, "Even though I love Ben, I would never try to take him away from you..."

She interrupts, "So you finally admit you love him. It's about fucking time."

She lunges towards me...

Present — Ira — Flight back to America

Ms. Donaldson has turned into a wild animal full of rage and attacks Ms. Morgan so quickly, we are not ready for it. She hits her in the face and Ms. Morgan crumples to the floor while Ms. Donaldson shouts, "That's for trying to take my man you backstabbing bitch."

She tries to kick Ms. Morgan, but Mira recovers, jumps between them, intercepts her kick and orders, "Ms. Donaldson, please do not make me hurt you."

Ms. Donaldson steps back, laughs and says, "I've put up with enough crap from your bony ass! You think you can take me Eurobitch? Come on because I'm your Fuckleberry Huckleberry." Then she unleashes a terribly violent attack on Mira and Mira barely holds her own. I can feel my sister's pain as the she block the blows with her arms and legs. So I step in to intervene.

Mrs. Donaldson yells, "What is everyone fighting about. Jennifer, stop trying to hurt everyone right now." It distracts Mira, so Ms. Donaldson punches her right in solar plexus and Mira flops to the floor like a rag doll, unconscious.

She turns towards me and says, "I kicked your sister's ass now it's time to give you the ass-whipping you deserve."

She attacks me, but does not know about or count on my increased strength. I dodge her punch, put her in an arm bar, force her to the floor and say, "Ms. Donaldson, while you were able to defeat my sister you will not defeat me. Please do not make me break your arm."

She struggles and swears, "Let me up Eurobitch and fight fair."

I realize the only way to subdue Ms. Donaldson is to render her unconscious. I take my free arm and put her in a sleeper hold. She struggles terribly like a bear, scratches my arm until it is bleeding, and says, "Damn fucking sneaky Eurobitch won't fight me in a fair fight." I increase the pressure until she slowly drifts into unconsciousness and hold it for another thirty seconds just to make sure she is not acting like a possum.

Then I carry her to the seats, pull my handcuffs and handcuff both her wrists to the plane seat. I just get ready to go take care of Ms. Morgan and my sister when General Donaldson limps up to the front of the plane and demands, "What the hell is going on - it woke me up. And what did you do to Jennifer?"

Mrs. Donaldson replies, "Glen, thank God it's you. Jennifer went crazy and was attacking everyone. This nice young lady was finally able to help Jennifer rest."

General Donaldson looks at me and says, "Well, if that's the case then thank you young lady. But you need to do something about your arm."

I smile at him and say, "I will as soon as I take care of Ms. Morgan and my sister. Will you please go back to your seat General Donaldson?"

He bravely asks, "Are you sure I can't help?"

I look at him, even injured as he is he still wants to help. I say, "No Sir! I can take care of this by myself." He turns and limps back to his seat.

I go to Ms. Morgan as she is just starting to recover. I help her to a seat and say, "Ms. Morgan, let me help my sister and I will be right back with an ice pack for your face."

Ms. Morgan answers, "Ira, I'll be fine. What the hell is wrong with Mira?"

I answer, "She is fine - Ms. Donaldson just knocked the wind out of her."

Ms. Morgan orders, "Ira, bring her in the seat beside me." I smile and think even now, even though we failed her and will have to bear the shame of self-flagellation, she still takes care of us. I pick up Mira, sit her beside Ms. Morgan, run to the galley, get a bunch of ice bags and bring them back. When I get back, Mira is awake and is hugging Ms. Morgan. I check Ms. Morgan's face and say, "Ms. Morgan I think you will have eyes of black very soon. Please keep this ice bag on your face."

I ask my sister, "Mira how do you feel? If Ms. Donaldson broke any of your ribs I am going to make her pay a very big price."

Mira looks at me in obvious pain, "Ira, she did not break my ribs but I will have a very big bruise on my chest, worse than that I feel terrible about letting Ms. Morgan get hurt and then letting Ms. Donaldson defeat me. But Ira, your arm has many scratches and is bleeding."

I smile, touch my sisters face and say, "Mira, you were distracted and Ms. Donaldson was very angry and out of control, just like a wild animal. I am happy only your chest and ego are bruised. Let me go take care of my arm and I will be right back."

I go to the galley, wash the blood off my arm, clean the many scratches with peroxide and cover them with gauze. This takes many minutes and when I get back to Mira and Ms. Morgan I hear Ms. Morgan ask, "Mira, I'm worried what Jens will be like when she wakes up. She could injure herself."

Mira answers, "If you would like, I could sedate her Ms. Morgan."

I walk up and add, "There are some leather restraints on Mrs. Donaldson's gurney. I think we should replace the handcuffs with those."

Ms. Morgan thinks for a few moments and replies, "I like both of these ideas. But Mira, I don't want her so out of it she's loony tunes."

I ask Ms. Morgan, "Why would sedating Ms. Donaldson cause her to be crazy about music?"

I watch Ms. Morgan shake her head and say, "Ira and Mira, loony tunes is a euphemism for crazy. You two really need to learn not to take everything so literal."

We both smile and reply in unison, "Yes Ms. Morgan," then we move over and start working on Ms. Donaldson.

Mira says, "Ira, now that Ms. Donaldson knows that Mr. Blaine is gone we can use it to our advantage but we will need Mrs. Donaldson."

I blink at Mira and question, "Mira tell me why we need Mrs. Donaldson?"

Mira laughs and says, "Who will Ms. Donaldson blame for Mr. Blaine leaving?"

I understand, "You are very right sister, she will blame her mother for all of it."

Mira adds, "And while she is busy blaming her mother, it gives us time to find Mr. Blaine for Ms. Morgan."