Chapter 9

Present — Erast (Ben) — On the road

I have the face dream again, but I'm shocked because the next two faces disappear - I didn't think Millicent and Reginald would count! I guess the faces know better.

The other faces clamor loud and long for their justice. This shit it getting old so I yell back "Shut the fuck up you bunch of dead bastards!" Which is the wrong thing to say because then they laugh (Have you ever heard the laughter of a lot of people echo in stereo? It snaps, crackles and pops around in my head and makes me feel like I'm in the middle of a bowl of Rice Krispies) and they all say, "If you don't like our dream then we're sure you'll like this one better." And I'm back at Hussein's hell hole and the fucking rats are biting me again.

I start fighting with one! He's in my hands and I'm choking the shit out of him! Then I feel someone shake me and say, "Mr. Blaine, put your wig back on?"

What the fuck? When did I ever have a wig at Hussein's? Someone shakes me again and I hear, "Ben, put your wig on right now before someone recognizes you."

I open my eyes and the rat in my hands is my fucking wig - again! The girl from the bus, the one I saved from the kidnappers takes it out of my hands and says, "Here let me do that for you." She puts the wig on my head and adjusts it. I hate this fucking wig since it itches like hell and bothers me all the time — but it does serve a purpose!

She smiles and says, "Wow that was some nightmare you were having. It was like you were fighting with the Devil."

I shake my head and say with my accent, "Sorry Ms. for bothering you. That sometimes happens when I sleep."

She replies, "With all you've been through Mr. Blaine, it's perfectly understandable you would have nightmares."

I lie and respond with an accent, "I am sorry, I do not know your Mr. Blaine. My name is Erast Petrovich Fandorin. You have me at a disadvantage because I do not know your name."

She laughs, "If you're Erast Petrovich Fandorin then I'm Elizaveta von Evert-Kolokoltseva."

Shit! That shocks the hell out of me: First she knows who Erast Petrovich Fandorin is; second, and more important, she knows that Elizaveta was Erast's bride from The Winter Queen¹.

¹ The Winter Queen - The first novel by Boris Akunin featuring Erast Petrovich Fandorin.

I smile and bait her, "Я предполагаю, что мой гамбит?"

"I suppose my gambit is up?"

She grins and replies in perfect Russian, "Да, но это был очень хороший Tурецкий Гамбит Спасибо за спасение меня от тех похитителей, но почему Вы сделали бы это для незнакомца?"

"Yes but it was a very good Turkish Gambit². Thank you for saving me from those kidnappers, but why would you do that for a stranger?"

² Turkish Gambit — The second novel by Boris Akunin featuring Erast Petrovich Fandorin.

Okay, she's read his first two books, let's see how 'Russian' she is, I test her, "Мы иногда сталкиваемся с людьми, даже прекрасными незнакомцами, которые начинают интересовать нас на первый взгляд, так или иначе внезапно, внезапно, прежде, чем слово было произнесено."

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

She correctly replies, "Я обожаю читать Фёдор Миха́йлович Достое́вский в оригинальном русском. И Преступление и Наказание - одна из моих любимых книг!"

"I adore reading Fyodor Mikhaylovich Dostoevsky in the original Russian. And Crime and Punishment is one of my favorite books!"

I compliment her on the answer, "Вы русские, превосходно!"

"You're Russian is excellent!"

She smiles and answers, "Но не столь хороший как Ваши господин Блэйн."

"But not as good as yours Mr. Blaine."

I state the obvious, "Well, you seem to have me at a big disadvantage, you know who I am but I have no idea who you are."

She whispers, "I'm Stacy Summers. And do you have anything to help get rid of my pounding headache?"

Son-of-a-bitch! I don't fucking believe it!

Present — Jack — Truth Network - Washington DC

Jens, Maria, and I sit around the conference table and the two of them tell me everything they've found out about Banzai (Jens does most of the talking because Maria seems distracted). It includes what he's been through and how he's acting now. I interrupt several times and asked some key questions. Jens cries more than once during her narration (the damn stupid piss ant has hurt the hell out of her). Masha was right to have me come here to be with Jens and I need to call and thank her. When they finish, I ask for a little 'space', "Let me think about this for a few minutes." So I get up and pace the room.

I've known Banzai for what seems like forever. It's more than the fact that he's just not acting right, he's acting fucking crazy. What the hell is wrong with him? I mull things over in my mind and finally, I think I understand exactly what is happening. But they aren't going to like what I need to tell them.

I sit across from Jens, take her hands in mine and say, "Jens, I'm not one-hundred percent sure of this, but I'm pretty damn sure I know what the hell is going on with Banzai."

Jens says with determination, "Jack, you've spent more time with him than anyone in the whole world, so I trust your judgment and your instincts. Just tell me what the hell you think is going on with my run-away fiancé."

I answer, "Jens, we need to call some shrinks to verify this, but I'm pretty damn sure he's suffering from a major bout of PTSD³. Having been there myself, but to a lesser degree, he seems to me to have all the symptoms."

³ Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a sufficiently traumatic event. It can include both psychological and physical symptoms.

She looks deep into my eyes and exclaims, "Son-of-a-bitch! You're fucking right! Why the hell didn't I see it coming and why wasn't I with him! I should have helped him avert this disaster."

Shit! She feels guilty for being in Ramstein and taking care of her parents - I need to perform some intricate damage control. I attempt to console her by stating, "Jens, you were really caught between a rock and a hard place and you must stop blaming yourself. First you did exactly what Banzai told you to do: You went to take care of your parents and then almost fucking died. No one, not even the fucking VA doctors saw the PTSD symptoms when they started flaring up in Banzai."

She interrupts, "Jack, I would have known!"

I squint at her, because I remember she used to be able to sense Banzai's feelings and correct her, "Bull-Fucking-Shit Jennifer Donaldson! I can tell you haven't been able to 'sense' his feelings for a while, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation because you'd already have him lassoed, hogtied and married."

That alerts Maria's attention so she jumps out of her chair and sounds out, "Hey gramps, you'd better not talk to my boss that way or I will kick your ass until you can't fucking walk." Jens quiets her down, but I grin at Maria because she reminds me of an even more out of control Mira from our time at the spy school. I wonder whatever happened to her.

Jens says, "Jack, I can't help but take some and possibly much of the blame for this. I really let Ben down by not rescuing him. Then when he was rescued, I left him so I could be with my parents..."

I stop her from taking the blame, "Jens, you really need to get some professional help for your feelings about this. This guilt will poison your relationship forever with Banzai. Plus, we also need to get the fucking shrinks advice on how to handle Banzai. From knowing him, I would say the harder we push, the harder he will fight back."

She starts to cry, "Jack, I can't sit back and do nothing."

I walk around the table and hug her as I try to comfort her, "Jens, I'm not saying we do nothing. But we're dealing with one of the sneakiest, most determined and competent sons-of-a-bitch in the world. If we're going to win this fucking war, and we are going to win this fucking war, then we have to be sneakier, more determined and even more competent."

She pulls back and gives me her patented 'determined' look so I know I've gotten through to her. Then she looks at Maria and orders, "Maria, I asked those fucking twins of Liz's to get me a copy of Ben's medical records but they never got around to it. Please get your ass over to Walter Reed and do whatever it takes to get me a copy of his medical records."

Maria jumps up and asks for confirmation, "Right away boss. You did say whatever it takes, didn't you?"

Jens softens it a bit, "Maria, do me a favor. First try flirting up a doctor to see if that works - before you threaten to shoot his dick off."

Maria laughs, "Yes boss lady, I will only shoot his dick off if he pisses me off."

She leaves and I'm very, incredibly fucking glad I'm not the doctor she's going to visit. Damn! And I thought Mira was bad! What is it about women? Do they all have fucking penis envy? I try to decide which is worse, the slow pain of having my balls ripped off or the fast pain of having my dick shot off but I can't decide. However both the thoughts have now given me castration anxiety.

Jens smiles and continues, "Okay Jack, let's put our minds together and outfox my foxy fiancé."

Present — Maria — WRAMC mission - Washington DC

I miss a good portion of the conversation between gramps and my princess boss because I am still trying to figure out the scheme the 'twisted sisters' are running. The more I think about them, the less I like them and their bony, fucking, skanky, fucking, scheming asses! I might not be the brightest bulb on the tree, but my fucking intuition is spot on most of the time. Once I learned they didn't get the fucking medical records, I became certain they were screwing around with Liz and my princess boss. And no one gets to screw around with my princess boss while I'm on the job - except me! They both need a good ass kicking. The only problem is with the 'twisted sisters' is that if you take on one of them you end up fighting both of them at the same time. I need a way to separate them and give them each a five-fucking-finger interrogation⁴!

⁴ Five-finger-interrogation - obtaining information by beating it out of a subject by using your fist (five-fingers).

I'm glad I have something to do that involves some action because sitting around and listening to a bunch of fucking psycho-babble is almost as boring as watching golf on TV. And that is even worse than watching grass grow!

My princess boss certainly has some great contacts since I already have my CCW⁵ for Washington, fucking DC. This is unheard of and now I have a very nice Kimber tucked in an ass holster under my jacket. I would have preferred a rifle, because any bastard would be dickless within a couple hundred yards, but I can still do a job on them with a pistol at twenty-five yards. And the forty-five leaves a much larger hole!

⁵ CCW — Carrying a Concealed Weapon — permit which allows the carrying a handgun in public in a concealed manner.

I grab one of the many network station cars and head to Walter Reed. This should be a fucking piece of cake. On my way I realize these fucking doctors see pussy wrapped in camo all day long so I need to separate myself from the other bitches. I decide my princess boss has waited this long, so what's a few more hours, and I cruise by my place and get into a nice summer dress with a low cut neckline and a high cut hem - yeah my normal fighting outfit. I love the feel of the Kimber pressing into my thigh from the thigh holster: Mmmm it makes me hot as hell. Who knows, if I finish this assignment quickly enough, I still might have time to stop by a sailor bar or even two.

I get to Walter Reed and begin my assignment: First thing, I have to get past the bitch they always put in charge of things. This is the hardest part because she always thinks she's a fucking queen!

I walk in, put on a hell of a show with pretend crying and ask, "I, I, I'd like to see someone about getting a copy of my missing fiancés medical records. Perhaps they would help me find him." (Hey I've been around my princess boss enough so I can already pull off acting like her. This is war and we all know everything's fair in war and fuck the hell out of love!).

It works perfectly because the queen bitch consoles the hell out of me and says, "Calm down Miss, we are here to help you. Just let us know your fiancés name."

I still cry some and explain, "I'm Jennifer Donaldson and my fiancé is Ben Blaine. He, he, he went crazy and ran away when we were supposed to get married." Then I break down in pretend, uncontrollable sobs.

She is so fucking stupid, it makes me disgusted to be a woman. She doesn't even notice, I'm fucking Latina and assumes I am a blondie when she says, "There, there Ms. Donaldson, we all know about your problems from the TV ad and we are here to help you in any way to find that bastard fiancé of yours. I'll be glad to get you a copy of his medical records. By the way, one of his attending physicians is also on duty right now if you'd like to talk with him. I was also wondering, will this qualify for any of the reward money?"

Fucking mercenary bitch, no wonder why she's so helpful: She just wants a piece of the pie. I reply, "Thank you nurse. I would love to talk with Ben Blaine's doctor, and the reward depends on whether the information you give me helps find him. If it does then you will certainly get some of the reward."

That lights a fire under her ass and she makes a bunch of calls. I can't help but hear that she promises a cut of her reward to all that help. She doesn't know her only reward from me is going to be a fucking knuckle sandwich if she gives me any shit!

The greedy fucking doctor shows up and wants to take me to an office to 'discuss' Ben Blaine's case. I can tell by the way he's checking out my rack he has much more than just 'discussing' on his mind, so I fucking play along to see what this bastard really has on his mind (do men ever have anything other than getting laid on their puny minds?)

He has a big file folder in his hands, sits behind a desk motions to a chair and says, "Have a seat Ms. Donaldson. I must say you look different in person. Your skin is darker and you look a little heavier." He laughs thinking he's God's fucking gift to comedians and continues, "I thought TV was supposed to add ten pounds to your weight, in this case I'd say it's reversed."

Well, that statement proves he's more of an idiot than the 'queen.' Time to put him in his fucking place, I frown and reply, "Excuse me doctor, did you just tell me I've gotten fat? That, that, that's why Ben left me, isn't it?" I stand up to leave and start sobbing.

He flies around the desk, hugs me in consolation and says, "Excuse me Ms. Donaldson, that's not what I meant at all and that's probably not the reason Ben left you. He has other issues going on."

And this fucking doctor certainly has other issues going on as his hands are slowly creeping lower towards my ass, the horny perverted fucker! I slide a hand down, pull the Kimber out of my thigh holster and wait. Finally the bastard's hands end up on my ass so I push him away, back against the desk and put the muzzle of the Kimber against his crotch and say, "Doctor, I don't know what the fuck you thought you were doing with your hands, but I sure as hell didn't appreciate being felt up by the likes of you. I'm taking my fiancés medical records and you're going to keep your fucking mouth shut about this, otherwise I pull the trigger and then scream rape. Do we have an agreement?"

I watch the sweat roll off his forehead as he says, "Yes Ms. Donaldson, I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding."

I curse him, "Misunderstanding hell! You grabbed my ass and would have done a hell of a lot more to me if I wouldn't have stopped you! Next time you think you can do that to a poor defenseless woman, I would suggest you remember that not all of us are defenseless." Then to make sure he remembers this lesson, I smack the hell out of his crotch with the Kimber! He doubles over in pain, I grab the folder and walk out of the room. Just like taking candy from a baby.

Shit! The night's still young and I'm dressed for fun!

Present — Liz — Dushanbe, Tajikistan

I hear, "Ms. Morgan, please wake up." I open my eyes and Mira smiles at me, "We have landed in Dushanbe and our ride is waiting."

I yawn, stretch and say, "Wow that was some rum and diet coke you gave me Mira. I slept like a baby."

Mira smiles and replies, "Ms. Morgan, you do know that is not a very precise euphuism since babies do not sleep well at all."

That statement makes me question the twins motives again so I ask, "Mira, are you and Ira still thinking about me having a baby?"

She smiles and responds, "Oh no Ms. Morgan, we would never think of you just having a baby."

Something about her answer doesn't seem right, but I'm too groggy to figure it out right now. I declare, "Okay, let's get moving. First we're headed to the Embassy. Then we have to find some way to get those adopted sisters of Ben's out of this country. Did you and Ira figure anything out?"

She smiles and answers, "Yes Ms. Morgan we did and we will tell you about it on the way to the Embassy. By the way, were the very private calls you made to the Ambassador?"

I sass, "That's for me to know and for you not to find out."

I slip on my shoes, stand up and say, "Where's Ira?"

Mira grins at me and sasses right back, "She is already busy doing some things which are for me to know and for you not to find out."

I sure don't like it when the twins become secretive like this - and they've been doing it with greater frequency lately. So I let my reporter instinct run, "Mira, that is not an acceptable answer. If any of those 'things' concerns me I want to know what they are."

Mira frowns and whines, "Please Ms. Morgan, it is a surprise."

Present — Ira — US Embassy, Dushanbe, Tajikistan

Yes, I lost the game so now it is my odious duty to encounter Ambassador Clark, extract what information Mira and I need, and then, if he wants to train me, he will expire! Mira promised me Ms. Morgan will remain unconscious for an additional hour, more than adequate time to execute my plan and if need be the perverted Ambassador.

I announce myself at the front gate and as anticipated, I am escorted promptly in. After a much abbreviated wait, I am shown directly into his office. He greets me, "Ira, it's so good to see you again. I'm assuming your sister and Liz will be here soon?"

I smile and articulate, "Yes sir they will both arrive soon. I arrived early to retrieve the information you have for Ms. Morgan."

He astonishes me because he behaves different from the last time - this time he does not seem to want to train me. He responds, "Sorry Ira, but I promised Liz I wouldn't give the information to anyone but her. So you will just have to wait until she arrives."

This frustrates me so I turn a trifle more seductive, "Ambassador Clark, are you certain there isn't something I can do to persuade you to impart the information to me?"

He laughs at me! Then he replies, "No Ira not even that would persuade me to give you this information since I owe Liz a big debt and this is one little way I can help to repay that debt. So we both just need to wait. Would you like something to drink while we are waiting?"

Previously where I found him detestable, his denial of my body has triggered my interest in him. I wonder if this is a small subset of what Mira experienced with Mr. Blaine. I attempt another stratagem, "Really Ambassador Clark, you do not have to get me intoxicated."

He laughs again at me and answers, "No Ira, but you would have to get me drunk this time. Now be a good girl and let me do some of my work while we wait for Liz and your sister." He dismisses me and starts processing his tedious paperwork.

What! Be a good girl! Oh, I am exceedingly frustrated and fantasize about kicking his rear! And after that demanding the information, training him and then eliminating him. But I recognize I cannot do any of these things so I determine to ask an interrogative I recognize he cannot dismiss. "Ms. Morgan told us you know about the two young girls and the gold. How did you find out?"

This interrogative briefly regains his attention: He looks up at me, reaches in his desk drawer and slips a sheet of paper across to me. Then he resumes his tedious paperwork. I scan it and understand matters are going to be very unmanageable for us and our original plan to fetch the girls back to America will not work...

Present —Yasmeen and Zarika — Tajikistan

I am still very upset at Zarika for wrecking my face. I know she did it just to make me look bad when we meet our husband. I try to think of a way to get even with her, and then I realize the best thing is to tell Ben the whole truth. I remember how he hated when we fought and punished both of us. And once he sees my face and I tell him about how Zarika attacked me for no good reason at all, he will punish her very bad. In fact I will suggest that he make her my slave then I would give her the many tortures she deserves. I smile at her and keep my thoughts to myself.

Yasmeen is very quiet which means she is thinking. Because her brain is so small she cannot think and do something else at the same time she us quiet when she is thinking. She keeps looking in her mirror and I know she's upset because I beat her face very badly for insulting my dead mother, but she deserved it and now must be thinking of a way to get even with me. I know it will not be something direct because she is sneaky like a little thief. Yes a little thief that's trying to steal Ben away from me.

I decide to aggravate her some more, "Yasmeen, just remember your place: You are our husband's second wife!"

She laughs and replies, "I think you mean I am his best wife!"

I snap at her, "No, I meant what I said: You are his second wife and you will need to obey me. Now be a good little second wife and fetch me some water to drink." I am shocked when she gets up, fetches the water, comes over to me and declares, "No! I meant best wife." She throws the water on me and laughs, "Not all the water in the world will ever wash the shame off you because of what Hussein did to you. You are not fit to even be Ben's one hundredth wife."

This is too large an insult, so I jump off the bed. The little sneak kicks me in my stomach and yells, "This time I was ready for you, you проститутка!"

Prostitute

The kick hurts very bad but makes me even angrier so I jump on top of the little suka and we roll around on the floor and fight...

Present — Thom — Rogue mission - Washington DC

After I'd driven about an hour away from the team, I pull over and realize I made a mistake. Shit! I hate when this happens: I get all wound up and let my emotions overrun my logic. It was never this way in Nam! The doctors try to tell me it's something to do with my PTSD. I should have used the TSIFFTS resources to get information about the two agents Dwight wants me to 'take care of.' Now it is going to be hard as hell to get the intel I need and I have to do it the old fashioned way: Discretely talk to some friends.

I am still pissed as hell at Dwight for even asking me to do this and I wish to hell that Ben Blaine never talked him into cleaning house. If I ever find Blaine, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind! I'd kick his ass if I thought I could, but after seeing how he brutalized the rape gang, I'm not sure I'd ever want to fight that sick bastard.

I take out my phone, make a few calls to some friends and setup some meetings. Yeah it is going to be hard as hell, but it is going to be great being on my own again: No one to worry about except myself. If I fuck up, it will only hurt me.

I smile as I drive to my first meeting since I haven't seen or talked to him in ... Shit - maybe it has been years.

Samantha Stevens - Truth Network — San Antonio, Texas

"Samantha Stevens reporting for the Truth Network from San Antonio, Texas. Brave American soldiers and individual American freedom fighters are still engaged in fierce battles with the troops which have poured into the Southwestern United States from Mexico. While things have calmed down in much of America, a huge battle still rages here. The border between the United States and Mexico has shifted dramatically northward in many places. This seems to be a unified effort between the terrorists which infiltrated Mexico and many of the drug gangs which operate throughout the border regions of the United States. The whole invasion is very organized and well-funded. This reporter has heard from sources that this assault has been planned for years. Because of a weakened and corrupt Mexican government, the terrorists were able to set up many bases just inside the border. The drug gangs are more than happy to help them because the terrorists have been using their supply chain for years. It also appears the terrorist organizations have made very effective use of NAFTA.⁶ and the eagerness of local governments to set up 'free trade zones' in the United States to have supplies already waiting for their troops in America.

⁶ North American Free Trade Agreement - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_American_Free_Trade_Agreement

Of all the border states, California has been hit the worst, largely because the overly aggressive anti-gun laws removed weapons from the hands of law abiding American citizens. In this case the firearms would have been weapons of homeland defense. While things constantly change, the current border appears to be a line drawn from Mission Viejo California to Yuma Arizona; from Yuma Arizona to Las Cruces New Mexico; and from Las Cruces to about fifty miles south of Corpus Christi Texas.

Yes America, the cities to the south of this line are currently under terrorist control. And from the few reports leaked out there is brutality of an indescribable nature happening with no regard for human life.

Unfortunately, because the attack is on American soil, the military has been forced into an urban combat scenario and cannot rely on much in the way of air support. The fight has degenerated into a block by block, clear out the terrorists from the houses operation. Because our former President gutted the military so effectively, and then spread the remaining troops across too large an area, America was left without a home military presence and very vulnerable. We are now paying for his traitorous acts.

But just as in Revolutionary times, normal, everyday citizens have stepped up to become citizen soldiers. Bringing the misattributed quote of Isoroku Yamamoto from World War II to fruition, "You cannot invade the mainland United States. There would be a rifle behind every blade of grass." Help is pouring into Southwestern America from the entire country: Old men, old women, young men and even many young women who are not part of the Armed Forces have reported for duty with whatever weapons they have.

Of course those countries who are our allies have not stepped up to help. Yes, many of them are still fighting battles of their own, with Israel being in the worst trouble. But others have decided since it's on American soil, they shouldn't get involved. Those countries are cowards and in this reporter's opinion, when this is over we should terminate all relations with them.

And as you can see, this reporter is carrying a rifle. After I am finished with this report, I will be traveling with my unit and with Jim, my cameraman into the heart of the battle for America. And our battle cry will be what it was back in eighteen-thirty-six: 'Remember the Alamo.' But this time we will be victorious and repel the terrorists. Finally I would encourage those who are able to fight to travel to the Southwest where we can use all the help we can get. Samantha Stevens - signing off for now."

I look up and smile since I see someone I need to go and greet! I run over and jump into my sweetheart's, Frank Cohen, lap and give him a huge hug and kiss. After a very long time of getting reacquainted I let him up for air and ask, "Honey, what are you doing here?"

Frank grins at me and says, "I came to fight for America and I brought some friends with me." He motions behind him and I blush because I didn't notice the twenty very hard looking men and women behind him. Frank motions to one man so he walks up and Frank says, "Samantha, I'd like to introduce you to Emanuel, my brother. These troops with him are Mossad and we are here to fight and die if needed for America."

I start to cry and say, "Frank, we'd better not die because we have our two children to raise when this is over." Then I lecture a little, "By the way, what did you do with our two children?"