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TENTACLES
OF
BLOOD

By Enock Mose


 

 

CHRISTIANITY OASIS

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PURITY PUBLICATIONS
 

 TENTACLES
OF
BLOOD

By Enock Mose

 

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PREFACE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

This is a fictitious story which I started writing immediately after I witnessed the killing of 240 Kenyans and 12 U.S.A citizens in Nairobi by the terrorists on 7th August 1998. One year later the Terrorists stroke again now in Mombassa where 11 Kenyans and 3 Israelis were killed. Below is the summary of the book-showing an underground terrorists fiefdom. I can say I was inspired by God to write this book. Captain Mick Macdonald, led the American array to liberate the Afghanistan nation from axis of dictatorial, brutal monarchy of terror governed by president Hassan Ali. At the zenith of the outrage, an underground Russian pugnacious private army of Chosef Vladin is sent to fortify the falling realm. Mr. Chosef Vladin, among these vile trained army of his, was his only brother who were flown to Afghanistan to guard and fight alongside president Hassan Ali 's desert army. Vladin brother is shot dead during the onslaught by the American army and captain Mick Macdonald is the arch suspect The Russian fiend, Vladin Chosef is also the founder and owner of ITU an umbrella commercial organization to cover his activities to the outside world. Vladin did not belief that his only brother is death, the news left him whimpering for revenge. Immediately his private army was summoned back and ITU members were called from all over the world to come and prove captain Macdonald guilty of murder and the punishment was torture to death At pentagon, captain Macdonald and his remaining men were given unconditional leave to go home to visit their families. At severondiviska, colonel Vladin; the impious killer sent off his skirmish terrorists squad under general Michael Diochev to kidnap captain Macdonald from the leagues of America. The general more evil than Hitler or Lenin name them all bloody beings who had orchestrated mankind took the job with seven men and flew to USA via Canada. The operation goes well as schemed by Vladin. The whole family of Macdonald is annihilated , two family members are mangled, captain Macdonald was kidnapped but his only son escaped the slaughter. Fortunately Macdonald's seventeen year old son escaped using their horse into the nearby forest. The chilly night never spared him until the day opened with lucky. Miss Kournikova , Russian woman and by coincidence she knew and she had been involved with his terror organization for nearly twelve years until when she left and moved to USA ten years ago. She was also wanted by Vladin to be charged for leaving his killer squad. Kabason Macdonald the captain's son, with the help of miss Kournikova went out to rescue his father from the chamber of torture, Russia. During the operation the captain's body is rescued and miss Kournikova killed.

 

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.  Any individual known does not even distantly inspire them or unknown to the pure incidents are pure invention.

 

 

  

 

PREFACE

 

Captain Micky Macdonald, led the American array to liberate the Afghanistan Nation from axis of dictatorial, brutal monarchy of terror governed by President Hassan.  At the zenith of the outrage, an underground Russian Private Army of chosef Vladin is sent to fortify the realm from the falling kingdom.  Vladin’s brothers are shot dead during the onslaught and Micky Macdonald is the arch suspect.

 

Seven days later, the American battalion is called back home.  At Pentagon, captain Macdonald and his remaining men are given an off to visit their families.  At severondivika, Vladin, the impious killer, sent off his skirmish terrorists squad to kidnap captain Macdonald from the leagues of America to be flown to severondiviska Russia a dungeon of torture.  The operation goes well as schemed by Vladin.  The whole family of Macdonald is annihilated, two family members are mangled, and captain MacDonald kidnapped, but his only son escapes the slaughter.  Kabason Macdonald, the captain’s only son goes out to rescue his father from the chamber of torture, accompanied by Miss Calthary Kounikova a Russian prowess woman.

 

  

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

“They are coming for us…my son.  The day before your father was killed, I had a terrific dream.  My mind whirled in hell.  The nasty world, fueled with darkness and a mist smoke.  The men who feed on human flesh and bathe in the human blood…they are on the way to complete what they left behind.  The whole world will perish under their iron wings”. She bated, her tired eyes smeared with tears directed to the ascending ballistic star.

 

International trade union was the only global underground movement with central apparatus governed by Colonel Vladin Chosef, the Russian imp, mysteriously big-boned build with a thick broad chest and ample waistline.  His meticulously trimmed black gray goatee, betraying him to Francis of Assisi.

 

By August he will be sixty-seven.  In his huge office roomy, Colonel Vladin Chosef, sat on pure leather shrivel chair swaying on it lazily.

 

“Excuse me Sir…there is a phone call for you”.  His private secretary bleated, on her tender palm, she held the phone over a golden plate.  The villain empire of all evil turned his red smoldering eyes and gave her an exotic look.

 

“Write a special speech for tomorrow’s meeting.  The American conflict in Afghanistan to be the major agenda.  On top, inform the business quarters to give out their proposals on the cost of the new aircraft.  All those request to be ready by noon.  He said a mid wending towards a huge mullion–Russian window overlooking the courtyard, and over there Moscow city lay beautifully, with a cell phone coating his damn ear. His stocky body celled in a rumpled black suit with sand hair looking like an aged cherub striving with the queen of peace, his left hand slipped in his trousers pocket…”Yes Colonel, we have really prepared for the war.  Our indomitable soldiers are very ready for any slit attempt by the American entry into our territory we can do anything to safeguard our Sovereign Government”.  “That is fine, we can come in if possible.  Are you with comrade Laden Mohammed, Mr. President?”  The line dotted, “Hallo…Ha”.

 

“Yeah, he is with me right here in my office.  You can have a word with him”.  The Afghanistan President answered him through the army satellite.

 

“In the name of Allah, we are not going to be cowardice by those evil Americans.  We have decreed a holy war against the Americans plus the Zionists.  We have made the greatest alliances with many Arabic countries and to some extent the African countries.  Not forgetting our beloved Russian brothers who had been assisting us since from the start, both economically and in war technology, we really thank the Russian people”. Mr. Laden boomed with a shivering tone.

 

“Anyway we are watching keenly what will be their reaction after that devastating Washington bombing”.  Mr. Vladin said as he stood over his office at the sixty - floor overlooking the great sleepy city.

 

“Yah…that is what we are expecting as per their intrigue threats they are throwing across the media”.  “Mr. President, now what will I do for you?”

 

“The obvious, I need your men to come to fortify my regime”.  He said and waited for fortunes to be borne”.  Okay, if that is what you want, then I will communicate with Kremlin to give me an okay, if anything goes boggy”, said Vladin grimly. 

 

“God is great, God is great, and God is great.  We know you will ostracize them to where they belong.  Goodbye Colonel Vladin”.  President Hassan locked the phone.

 

Leaning over his huge office table with his muscled arms enfolded his thoughts whirled in a wild dream of sending his private army to Middle Asia.  He had landed into a golden chance to explore the might American war maneuvers, fencing.

 

Suddenly the old fiend jerked his head to the heavens his mass of lair, down his shoulders.  “I have got it! I will simmer you! You odious, mongrel, son of bitch, I will whack you with the human soul.” He was filled with high spirit, his voice clamoring with wild excitement.  Madness!  He started trembling totally possessed with outrage; his arms rose as somebody under deep psych of holiness, ready to receive the heavenly powers.

 

He broke down on his knees, hubbubing, and nonsense, tears busted down his smothered cheeks strangely.  Eventually he had a thanksgiving short prayer to his most fearful bad tempered demon.  “Allow me to carry out your work and I will feed you with their flesh and blood.  Let it be done to restore your great regime.  Let these Americans be done away with!”  He growled, with great enthusiasm maniac, propelling out of his office leaving the door a jar.

 

Colonel Vladin Chosef was the Kremlin underdog.  His powers extended beyond Kremlin to the doctorial monarchies around the world.  The most feared person with such a big influence in the Russian Government.

 

He had been a drug dealer and arms seller to some parts of Europe, Asian World, South America and Africa.

 

“Call for me comrade Michael Dirochev, Thadefy Crofy and Davids, immediately to my office”.  He said whilst his fingers rolled across his mot modern TXT computer.

 

The three men in black military uniforms hurtled without hesitation into Vladin’s office”.

 

“Have seats…he signed deeply and released a long breath”.  There is something very sinister I would like to discuss before I throw it to our comrades in the Kremlin.  I have received a call from our brothers in Afghanistan and they are requesting us to fortify their force.  Without any delay, I saw it better I first inform you to focus the risks.  But mind you, it will be a good fortune to test our private army on these people to learn more on their style of war maneuvers…yes, how do you see it, general?”

 

“As far as we are aware, the Americans are our life time enemies.  From the Vietnam War of insolence to the world is political turbulent, is concern, plus the balancing of power on this would. Mind you, the Americans during the early Afghanistan conflict, they supported them against us and this is our time to play them down.  No day!  We are going to lose this time of end to slip out of our way”.  General Michael Dirochev bawled with full of excitement.

 

Colonel Vladin nodded and directed his insomnia- stricken glaring eyes to his brother Thadefy Krofy “Nothing I can say, we go and strike them”  “…and you, Davids, what is your opinion…?  to be more democratic”.  Davids the army intelligent officer rolled his big eyes around trying to gain entry to the matter.

 

“I am not overlooking Kremlin’s support on your incursion, but our own coming I.T.U. brings heads of state from many countries, which means more security in terms of military and economic support.  These are the people we will relay to most than the Kremlin.  I don’t know, are we not the people who control the Kremlin?  Are we not the people who are preaching communism against capitalism all around?  Or are we not the people who guard them in those offices! We are the one’s who controls the Kremlin and not them a signal of our operation.  After all we control the Russian army.” He parroted and waited anxiously for their minds to spin, their faces to wry or grin and for their heads to cock suspiciously.

 

Abruptly as if they have been set, gave up a mysterious laughter comically extravagant, leaving the intelligent officer gasping. “something nasty?”  “No, nothing wrong whatsoever.  Only suggesting exactly what we need to do.  Anyway, to me, my major aim is to extract…eh, what I mean prisoners of war, the Americans to be flown to Severondivika to justify our gods of fortune.  For now comrades, it is over.  I will phone to the President in the afternoon to give him just alight summary of our agenda”.

 

The terrible Russian weather was falling in.  Heavy fog from the Zenith of Moscow city to its bottomless wells rattled, moving crumpling every organism on its way to the eastern world.  The scene turned to gray in appearance and smelly.  The day grew so quiet and scaring ready to bore the crimson of mass killing.  The Moscow streets were empty with no apparent explanation.  A tall gaudy green building stood beautiful and flamboyantly as the center of the cold stricken city, fortifying the world’s most outrageous generation, tranquilliously.

 

Colonel Vladin hobbled along the garish lounge towards his enormous office.  His several unkept guards, behaving as disturbed sharks only because of his presence.

 

In his office, the old senile giant plucked the phone, darting around and lastly he gazed at the phone as if confused on what he was doing.  He dialed the presidential number, twice without getting any attention.  “What a hell, where will I find this idiot Mr. President,” He made a low indistinct voice tottering towards his secretary’s office.  “Make a call to Kremlin for the President, immediately!  I have failed to get in touch with him”.  “Yes Sir,” she said, fumbling, taking the phone with a slight tremor through her blond body.

 

Colonel Vladin was a feared hog.  A nuisance inside of females.  A petulant, imputed bachelor.  A intoxicated murderer.  “He is in Odessa.  His eiders have informed me that he is chairing a meeting for the coming forty minutes, after which they will put him inline to you”.  “That is right”, he blared giving her a griming glaze.

 

At around two forty five afternoon hours, the President of the Republic of Russia phoned to the ultra-modern skyscraper of Colonel Vladin.  “Hallo! Mr. Vladin.  I have received your agent information from my secretary enforcing me to cut short my afternoon council.  What is the problem, Colonel?”  “Not what is the problem, Mr. President?  It our problem.  You know our endeavor is to maintain our superlative communism against capitalism…in short I am giving you a brief notice that our private commandoes will be flown soon to Afghanistan to assist our brothers.  Incase of anything, the entire Russian will be involved”.  “But, Colonel Vladin that will be against our accord on terrorism with Americans.  It will result to a worst nuclear war between us.  Please stop it, it is their war, why involving our troubled government?  Colonel Vladin are you on the line?”  “Yes, Mr. President”.  “Stop it”.  The president requested solemnly. 

 

“That is nonsense, I am asking you to once more, are you cooperating or not!”  He blatant in a vulgar way making the president blenched for he knew this old underground movement was more poisonous than the Hamas to PLO, the red scorpions under a fake trademark, INTERNATIONAL TRADE UNION, damn fool atrocious movement.

 

“Yap… you are free to do what you think is right”.  “That is good, then inform your military staff to be ready for anything”.  “I will inform my men immediately.”  Lastly he said intrepidly.

 

With his evil blood realm, the Russian Government, through the powers of Kremlin allowed and promised Colonel Vladin Chosef a total protection to his private Red scorpion commandoes to fight alongside the Al Quaeda comrades-in-Arms and the Afghanistan army in the Middle Asia.

 

The Red scorpions were cautioned not to betray the Russians to the outside world.  Its roots to the Russian Government were painted with swarthy colors, with its origin directed to the Arabic devilish movements.

 

On its ninth night, the most outrageous emergence conference was summoned to Moscow.  Only senior member of ITU were invited from every corner of the planet, earth.

 

On this chilly, haze controlled Wednesday morning, expensive block limousines with tainted windows, armored heavy vehicles, plus several choppers squabbled the quiet peaceful luxurious Vladin-towers and swum the entire huge parking lot.  The down floor elevators were chained fully with messengers and a few aged ladies, swallowing them to the enormous garish conference.

 

Heavily armed commandoes kept vigil.  The red painted hall consumed all the four thousand delegates.  The hall was trance, no breath can be heard only the hovering of several vanes spraying warm steam to the delegates.  On its dais, ITU flag waved with its human skull-symbol clearly, and across the ceiling, the same crimson sign overlooked the congregation.  The podium carried with seven most feared ITU members among of them, the general of their Red scorpion commandoes a lunatic, a peace crusher, general Michael Diochev.

 

Tension of fear was high; scathing terrible biter sparks to every member in the hall.   As their tradition, for seventy minutes, deem deep scarlet light swarm the entire hall, its members swathed in quietness, totally with no any movement to allow their goblin gods to suck their souls.  And owl cry was heard so buzzing.  The cry announces the end of psyche taking and everybody gazed to the zenith where the sound emerged.  Immediately lights boomed on consuming the deem deep red light. The hall blossomed to normal lively conference.

 

On the platform Colonel Vladin Chosef stood energetically and justled towards the microphone-stand two yards away from the platform.  His protruding scorched eyes surveying the entire congress, throwing a strong angry, fierce look crystallizing every human soul within.  He signed, his teeth clenched, snarling and chucked.  “Dear comrades, Muscovites, representatives of foreign countries, guests and the entire Red scorpion Army…”he hesitated as if the Lord’s angel had landed on him.  Darting around the hall, his eyes bright with anger scampered to everybody’s psyche like the burning arrow as if looking at the ghost.  A look of incredulity, but of curiosity ascended on his blood face.

 

Like a lunatic monster, he retained his normal statue of holiness and nearly everybody in the hall frowned…” Today the people of our fatherland and our international comrades are going to endorse the permit to allow our private army to be flown abroad to assist our brothers of Afghanistan to fight the Americans aggressors.  This sincere request from request from our comrades, Laden Mohammed and his counterpart, President Hassan is needed urgently to strengthen our sinew.  It is my genuine and sincere request for you to come both in technology and economical support.  We are going to diagnose our private commandoes against these diabolical Americans and to learn their war maneuvers”.  He coughed a dry cough and continues.  “…. To me I hate them, and I could like to hold some of them in my laboratory.  I hope you will lender oneself to your best in this bombardment as from now”.  He festered them, squealing with a masked grimace face looking intensified to the quite congress.

 

None spoke nor moved.  The message was synthesized with bitterness of fear. The entire ITU members to prove his proudly proficiency and intelligence within only three months in the battlefield, Afghanistan, without any quail, gave General Michael Dirochev.

 

The Russian kinky murders, coke snuffers were now preparing to slaughter and torture the American prisoners of war, snatching them, all a life and flown straight to Colonel Vladin’s furnace, without any dawdle.

 

“Lord forbids their evil motives”.  Vergi said to herself tranquilly as the meeting was cracking down.  She was a Jew-Russian married to the President of the South American country.  She was shocked by the senseless bestiality Vladin was involved against the innocent American soldiers.  ITU was the cover trademark of Vladin’s evil activities, only acknowledged by Kremlin.  It was the same movement, which brought Rennin to power.  Now producing very dangerous fumes to the entire world.  Vladin was a non-comprising fanatic rich with nervous brilliant mind and mercurial temper, however was found against his will was shot at the sport and his buskined skull brought before the ITU members.  Mrs. Vergi was all aware about this.

 

Outside the ultra-modern skyscraper, the unreasonably impatient Colonel hurtled toward his black-gray bulletproof Mercedes Limousine surrounded by seven armed bodyguards.  He wore a heavy soviet mackintosh, a black leatherette shirt entangled with a black sheer scarf.  Everything winged with a red cloak.  His ling lock hair defining his jaundice face strangely.  His four limousines rolled off swiftly to undefined destination.  Lastly other motors followed, heading to their hell to wait what their had endorsed to sprout out, leaving the palace of slaughter laying beautiful as if waiting for the price of peace to restore it without any judgment.  It was Wednesday evening, a dirty day.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

American-hurricane hit squad 003 led by captain Mickey Macdonald advanced through the valley of Hebron.  “Men! Do this; I want you to be in a seven-squad unit, the left squad, center squad and the right squad.  I will position myself at the center squad and we strike them in a V-shaped bombardment”.  He growled as he threaded through the soldieries.

 

“Take caution! Land mines are everywhere within this jungle, mostly along the valley.  Minesweepers to be highly monitored.  And now we move!”  Captain Mickey Macdonald commanded clad in camouflage jacket.  “Yes Sir!”  Their echoes booed through the Hebron valley invented with giant lizards.

 

A crisp, clear morning governed the day.   The firmament was contaminated with cumulus fragment clouds with dew on grass, promised of frost before long.  At a distance piercing missiles can be heard as they whiz through the ragged low clouds producing a raucous sound wherever they landed.  War jets droning across the sky and parachutes blooming into wings clawing paratroopers down to the medieval war field.

 

The American intrusion was intensified across the ragged mountains heavy mortars, artillery boomed across the battlefield.  The combat grew tenser on the American side, led by captain Mickey Macdonald, with a narrow forehead in his early fifties.  A tall handsomely big-bone build, directed by thundercloud eyes with fine arched eyebrows and stormy black hair.  The Asian scorching sunshine made him look more pale, rough and strong.  “When will this damn war end?”  He asked his junior soldiers as they scrambled along the tunnel-sand bags.  “It will take long, ever years to maim the muscle of terrorism”  “Jesus!  It is more horrible than the Vietnam wars.  We will be buried right there and none will discover our bones”.  “Useless, death is obvious’ everybody must die.  We are doing this for the sake of the future peace of our children”.  “If this Arabic monarchies will not be stopped.  They will quickly reorganize and strike back.  The totalitarian states must be wiped out completely, if we real need harmony on this world.  The Americans must be ready to sacrifice their unlimited powers to restore the world peace” Captain Mickey Macdonald screeched, vaguely angered.

 

“Yap! It is very true.  Other countries completely don’t understand our agenda for the world peace.  No country is ready to define to the world why they don’t support the human liberation from the axis of demons”.  “Listen! We must be…”As captain Mickey Macdonald blatant, a bullet whizzed just above his head by an inch.  They wallowed along the sandbags dale, their assault rifle muzzles clanking bullets like hell fire towards their unexpected besiege.

 

The shooting can be heard from a distance with quake bombing from both sides.  Men blatanting and others, bullets chastising their flesh.  Central Asian azure was clogged with a cremation of dead bodies, heavy sounds, dust and the horror of dying soldiers.  Machineries plowing through the rugged mountains as the fast combating aircrafts tormented them from above.  It was all the hostile.  The terrain composed of no life apart from wild human beings fighting each other.

 

The carnage grew tenser on the American side within a blink of a second.  Captain Macdonald was cured as the inscrutable incursion advanced.  His aide immediately gave him the binocular.  “…What is going on? It is a hurricane.  Totally an understandable, they are advancing more like wild buffalos, within no time they will engulf we us all around…oh gosh!  They are moving in with a Russian black-war-malice maneuver.  Jesus we are dead! Lieutenant, let me a radio call, quick!” He brayed, totally mashed with the progress of Afghanistan army.

 

“America battalion-seven over!” He had to repeat twice to get the attention.  “Emergency air force combat at Hebron valley.  Badly boggy on us.  More air strikes on the enemy! Over and out!”  He blatant, brisking towards a sandbank shelter.  He ordered his battalion to change their war movement from operation cobra style to deadly dry storm operation.

 

The American Air force jets whizzed through the azure like the flames of the shooting stars.  Heavy exchange of fire blossomed as dust; smoke and horrible sounds descended from the heavens and occupied the hell of the battlefield.  Point-blank range war busted as the American army were cramped together.  The captain felt dazed with war knocking sagacious, he rolled once; fixing the magazine, cursing the day the zygote was formed in his mother’s womb and went muck.  It was at this point that the captain shoots his adversary wounding him badly.  Surprising to the captain there was a bedlam commotion within the advancing enemy, enforcement was forming around the writhing victim and abruptly a fierce shooting erupted from the opponents.

 

The captain commanded his arrays “fire…move, pentagon, disasters fire!”  Admirable, an abrupt retreat was seen in the Afghanistan side.  At close range the captain can see through billowed smoke an Afghanistan soldier taking a binocular onto his murderous eyes, focusing to where the shooting emerged from which injured the covered soldier. 

 

The adversary’s reaction towards the injured victim made captain Macdonald to puzzle badly “why do they react on one wounded soldier while hundredths of them lay dead?  Would it be one of their top imbecile soldiers, whom I shot?  Damn it!”

 

The tormenting scene drilled his attention like hell.  “Bullshit!”  He burled when a bullet thumped to the soldier next to him, killing him instantly.  “Madness…take cover!  “Captain Macdonald howled, his face glowering with fear.  A second bullet whacked the stained soldier, dismantling the skull into pieces, like a gale.  He pulled back into protection by his dead soldier.  Before he commanded for vengeance, an abrupt cease-fire from their belligerent enemy betrothed in.

 

The captain wallowed next to his best chum-stained soldier.  “Thonny are you dead, please tell me.  Talk to me for last moment; tell me, if I am asked where I left you?  Just say bye…Thonny” He groaned as he thrusted his head across his death chest. 

 

“He is dead captain, there is nothing we can do for him now, a part from preventing more assaults” His deputy commando implored.

 

The shooting stopped, as the Afghanistan pulled much further.

 

The poor assiduous American soldier was left there for the vultures to make merry among the thousands of carrions, as it slowly turned blanch.  More stormy operation was ordered towards the Afghanistan.  The Americans army annihilated completely their enemy, pushing them to western mountains, facing river Kebabe-Pakistan, making thousands of their enemies surrendering.

 

On the seventh of the Afghanistan besiege, the pentagon called back the battalion hurricane 003 led by Mickey Macdonald.

  

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

The Russian venom fiend, Colonel Vladin Chosef had to use a lot of money collected from all sorts of dirty resources, to equip and train a private army with complicated, expensive most modern and of hi-tech ornaments to clog the world civilization.  He swam in the human blood fearlessly.  Due to his diabolical feelings, he felt he could defeat any army on the world.  With an evil whim, one day to conquer the whole world, starting from Russia, then he will annihilate totally the American world followed by the entire Europe and quickly, swiftly Asia and Africa.

 

Four hundred soldiers were off without any uncertain, using the Russian Bashkirian Air bus Tupolev 707 to enforce the Al-Qaeda Comrades-in-Arms and the Afghanistan Army in the caves of Eastern Afghanistan, led by general Michael Dirovhev and Vladin’s brother Thadefy Krofy and the army intelligent officer.

 

The tall broad shouldered general, with an owl’s eye, the damned bad tempered soldier seldom seen with a grinning face.  Masked in grimace with a lot of authority from the field to natural demon appearance, jumped to the game of death like shit.  General Michael Dirochev was feared like hell fire and every soldier in his battalion, he was a nightmare.  He can kill at any glance and walk out comfortably.  Yes the general of the goblins.

 

Thadefy Krofy, an idiot soldier who was in the field of corruption although bashful and naturally weak.  He will turn to sixty-two by August.

 

Three days after the collusion congress, general Michael Dirochev matched his much, best known as, The mighty force to the last redoubt of Taliban protectors in Kandahar in the Southern Afghanistan the red scorpions soldier were flown under the cover of smoke licked fog with seven combat jets to the cave of south Afghanistan.  President Hassan received the army.  “General! We are very grateful for your quick enforcement you are offering, let Allah be with you up to the last city.  I don’t know what to say at this time of the end.  But, after we have cleared them, your reward will be overwhelming.  The progress in the field is that, the tribal warriors are closing in directed by the American Army”.  President Hassan croaked, sauntering with general Michael Dirochev into the fortified desert caves.

 

“That is bullshit! I alone will direct my force just at the battlefield.  I am not going to sit here!  We are moving out immediately.  Not waste of time.  If anything goes boggy, we will spray them with chemical gases on their arse.  We will peel their flesh and bury them in the desert.  “The general brayed looking very senile under deep depression of his numerous maps killing all over the world.  The depraved general continues”…fourteen combat jets will be ordered to bomb the entire southern area where our enemies are holes, so that we will smoke them from their tunnels.  I will then move swiftly and strike them exactly at the center”.  He chided with his eyes looking ravenous, as they surveyed the hit-squad-cabinet.

 

Seventeen hours after their arrival, General Dirochev and Vladin’s brother, Thadefy Krofy, marched their brigand soldiers through the hostile, ragged mountains with their powerful armored military vehicles and seventeen helicopters hovering towards the southern Afghanistan.  As it was germinating more tense on their side with a lot of casualties reported commanding four hundred soldiers on the ground with tanks, aircraft guns, multi-barreled launchers and their most modern Kalashnikov rifles.

 

“Whoever kills or kidnaps an American soldiers will be rewarded with one million dollars and his rank will be uplifted immediately.  Landmines to be trapped in every gate of death…. I will command everybody.  I don’t need any bitch act of mercies.  We will work hand in hand with comrade Krofy for counter-offensive! And now I guarantee a petulant slaughter…Less move!” the general blared through their powerful radio calls under delirium of marijuana effects.

 

The unbelievable wallowing maneuver maltreatment with aghast human slaughter engulfed the battlefield.  Men fixed to kill.  Heavy bombing produced the scorched burnt soul ascending to the heavens, bodies mangled like crushed grains and others, crying for no help.

 

Still the heavy firing continued allowing mass killing.  Lieutenant Thadefy Krofy moved down the valley of Hebron, pushing the Americans like damned bulldogs, commanding a round one-seventy five soldiers.  Suddenly there was a by-turn on the American side that made his force to be cornered.

 

“Move back and everybody continue firing” He yelled behaving like a hag failing to control her magic power against her inventors. As the fighting continued gravely, so excruciating, the battalion losing just there and then a fleet of seventy-three best soldiers with exclusive of the native several soldiers entangled.

 

“Comrade, general Michael, I need please urgently, a concur immediately.  My men had been cornered!”  He cackled through the army radio call.  “Comrade Thadefy, I have got you loud and clear.  My men are moving in immediately.  I will be there”.  “Yes Sir! I love you”.  The line went off expecting to bring the general and his fleet two kilometers away.

 

Quite unfortunate, his army had nowhere to turn to.  They were held in the abyss of the last chasm.  Suddenly two choppers emerged from the western horizon, their long cannons directed to the American aggressors army, throwing missiles of fire.  Heavy bombing lasted for more than forty-five minutes annihilating the alluvial American-arch-engulfing army.

 

Again hell occupied the Russian garrison when the two choppers bloomed into two huge flames nearly simultaneously like the burning stars.

 

“Oh Jesus, what again is happening, we are all dead”.

 

“Yah, that is the general’s tank”.  Lieutenant Krofy agreed.  He forgot that he was in the tentacle of the Americans, being filled with ecstasy of the coming fleet of the general, his saviour, general Michael Dirochev.

 

“Get off!  They are moving in, move down!”  Unfortunately nobody heard him, as the firing was high.  He was hit twice at the chest his biceps muscles cramped leaving his down painfully wallowing with blood oozing like a desert fountain.  General Michael Dirochev was taken with wild excitement as he plunged odiously.  “Take cover…move forward! The idiots are advancing more…squad seven fire the cannons.  Cover the Lieutenant.  Fire again!  Move forward and don’t hesitate. Those morons are advancing, move, and let us first rescue him,” The General yelled whilst his forces bustled down the valley.

 

They moved forward enforcing lieutenant Thadefy Krofy but it was too late; the American army was moving in fast from the other side.  “Are you hurt comrade?  Talk to me!”  He cried to Vladin’s brother while he pressed the punctured bones fiercely.  His face turned blush filled with sudden great terror of what had taken place within the last seven hours.

 

“You mother-fuckers, you must die… Move forward and fortify the southern cave comrades, we must remove him from here before it is too late.  Move! And order for the helicopter to rescue Krofy home.  Quick!”  The altercation occupied his soul behaving like a castrated fly bawling with its inmates.

 

Abruptly, Lieutenant Thadefy Krofy opened his eyes slowly.  “Are you feeling well comrade?”  He asked while fiercely glancing towards the advancing adversary “please tell my brothers to forgive me”.  He sobbed as bitter tears rolled down his scorched cheeks.  The bullets had opened his slender weak chest, traveling inside the fresh questing for pace.

 

He was pronounced dead before the general will assure him.  The general was jaded with binocular while still laying next to Lieutenant Krofy, he mounted the instrument onto his eyes hubbubing something you cant understand, but, definitely, a cursing breath.

 

He got him.

 

The soldier who killed his comrade was still firing to their array.  The captain.  He dropped the binoculars picking the rifle firing with full of fury like a confused lunatic hog until he was out of bullets.  Behaving like a cobra, which had been stung on its tail, immediately he ordered his army to retreat and cease-fire.

 

The general was badly ravenous, his heavy army boots crunching the stony-Hebron valley like a defeated bull with its gait motion.  Thadefy Krofy was carried as they pulled back.  The darkness was swathing in with heavy dark clouds tripping across the sky to the eastern world to welcome definitely the quiet night, with a gale, collecting all evils away.  All his private army was ordered to move out without delay shooting three of them who had minor injuries.  “My camp has no space for amateurs”.  He blatant, pulling the trigger as the three soldiers ampled towards the aircraft.  “No!…………please general don’t”.  Their cry never swatted the general.  The three cops were left mangled for the desert termites to invent.

 

“We are moving out to Kandahar.  I am not ready to continue losing my men like this, Mr. President already the only brother of Colonel Vladin had been killed and I don’t know what report I will deliver to him concerning this case.  So scuffling damned war.  Oh………gosh “General Michael phoned to Kandahar informing the president about the tragedy”.

 

“Crazy!  Are you sure Krofy is dead.  What a hell.  I can’t stand to believe that.  I am very sorry for I am the one who brought all these.  Forgive me, general.  I don’t know what to do or say”.  The president said.

 

“For us, we are moving out.  Already I have marked the killer and I will go out for vengeance upon the son of bitch”.

 

“Yah, we must get him, whatever the cost”, the harsh voice summoned another game.

 

Immediately after telephoning Kandahar, he dialed to Moscow, Russia, for Vladin, “Sir we have lost our most trustful soldier, Lieutenant Thadefy Krofy, your brother”.  Through the line he can hear an appalling breath, anger, indignation and the venom of total fire.  “What…  General, I don’t understand you.  My brother did what?… Eh!  There was a long pounce as the line was occupied with fumes of danger. “He-is dead” “you wild dog you took my brother to kill him and.. and” He croaked threateningly.  “No sir, I will do anything to avenge for Krofy’s killer and all his soldiers, he commanded I have arrested them”, with a fearful voice he cried incredulously.  An awkward silence flowed through the line.

 

“Did you recognize the devil of soldier who shot him?”  He commanded with a shivering tone.

 

“Yes sir, I will follow him even to America.  I don’t care about my faith.  I must deliver the baboon to you, even if it means using all my intelligence in kidnapping technology.  Colonel, I promise I will do everything possible”.  He hesitated to say more but an explosion interrupted him nearby.  The line went off leaving the general puzzling.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Ultra-combat Jet 007 American navy carried the captain and his dreaded armies back to pentagon after a completion of their first mission.  Captain Mickey Macdonald felt uneasy and being followed by some powerful cults, but the thoughts were badly submerged with covetous of seeing his family.  Seven navy jeeps drove the soldiers from their air base in Washington the same day after their arrival from Afghanistan to Pentagon, their headquarters.

 

The army intelligent officers preached much interrogation to the captain proficiently.  “Captain can you tell us how come you lost so many soldiers and what measures are we going to take to curve that?”  “What… the Asian terrain is more hostile than you may try to think of.  Everywhere you step, landmines explode.  Apart from that, you know it is an Arabic world ...they don’t care being killed.  I don’t know, they behave like beasts ready for anything apart from life.  And what I saw, they have borrowed much of the Russian war Maneuvers,” “so what we are going to apply to prevent much loss?”  “We mobilize the natives, oppositions, the religious lunatics and the mountain warriors to lead us by equipping them with arms.  Another point is to make the air force to dominate the operation”.  He said with a lot of wits.

 

For less than thirty minutes, the interrogation was off.  “Thank you sir.  Good holiday.”  “See you later”.  He said and trudged off.

 

Mrs., Magy Macdonald sat at the reception hall lonely, her blue wistful eyes gazing on a big T.V. screen.  The CNN news read the names of the missing soldiers in action.  The atmosphere of agony occupied her, as the names went down for more names and more.  She was eagerly waiting for her husband, her face puckered trying to squeeze as equal of tears.  Her thoughts were doomed, not even fencing death or life, Mrs. Magy Macdonald cocooned in a rose-print slip dress in ultra-feminine.  Throw a denim jacket and deck shoes to play down a girlie look, fitted and sexy.  Her hair in soft pink, rollers and a black and white stripped – cover over her shoulders with deftly applied frosted eyes shadow of her lids, looking haggard.

 

The boardroom door swung open heavy steps were heard.  Her heart hobbled, her thoughts whirled and her instinct twirled her troublesome head.  She hasted of not believing who the huge image was.  A mirage, no he is Mickey Macdonald, her beloved husband.  Mrs. Magy MacDonald was dazed of not recognizing her husband until when he was just in front of her.

 

“Mickey are you the one I am looking at… please tell me”.   She prattled, her arms proudly spread.  She hugged him with an impersonal peck on his cheek, but of distraught love.  Mickey Macdonald jerked his head, his eyes met and locked together with hers.  Both were excited, none believed who they were nor where they are “Born from death”, he gasped.

 

Mrs. Magy Macdonald bewildered standing still as if confused suddenly both of them started grinning totally compelled by the founder treasure of love.  Instinctively, she reached for his cheeks, with her shivering palms, brought them to match with her searching mouth, then suddenly she withdrew her hands as her husband responded, her expression was so perplexing.  At last their tender loving hands to the point of mercy and forgiveness chained both together.  Muscled, biceps-arms cuddled her, Magy’s head lounging across the broad chest.  She started sobbing with bitter tears running down her cheeks across his sheer floral diverse shirt to the rough hairy chest.

 

“I am back darling, now I will not leave you………….We will be together forever and ever.  I know you love me so much.  Thanks darling, I will never ever let you down.  I will stand by you.  Sweetie, stop crying.  I love you”.  He murmured, thinking dreamily, assuming the soldiers along the lobby, she never took notice.  Now she was sobbing loudly, holding him tidy.

 

“Somebody will take you again.  Sometimes you might go forever.  I have seen a shadow in your eyes………don’t lie to me that you will not to again, darling”.  She clamored in a whispering voice.  Eventually he succeeded pushing her aside.  Gazing at each other with glittering bedroom eyes, rolling gold like tears being reflected by the evening sunshine.

 

Again stupidly, near and nearer, they came together mouth questing for its mate and planted as if forever.  Yes, chastening for the awkward separation sentence.  Please God forbid it for the hell of people who separated the loved ours in charity of death.  Commotion and whirl of love held by flesh but entirely controlled by the soul bosom.  The end will justify their immaculate, emerald love.  For three minutes none moved.  “Darling promise me you will never go again………..just say, “I will not leave you”, Please promise me that”.  She said in a contralto voice rolling her intelligent blue eyes along Micky Macdonald’s thoughts.  “I swear with emphasis I will not go again”.  He said in a vulgar voice.  She pulled back her expression, tender and alarming.  He gazed at her and read the words, the feeling of misery entangled with caring and waiting.

 

They moved out along the lobby like young doves out to lodge in their nearly found nestle for their honeymoon.  “Hi!  What is the problem Captain Micky? Your babe?…crazy men”.  The voice frowned from behind.

 

None twirled nor glanced towards the disturbing, cursing male’s voice.  Raising his tear-stroke eyes to see who the hell was flapping him, made his to change abruptly. Mosy Jackson was a brigadier, assistant general under USAF, an old ally of Macdonald.  The black American soldier tramped, moving, gyrating, to square their view “Lucky Northern star to be back on the American soil.  How was the war squashing you in Central Asia?”  I hope that tussle was blown up by your men”.  He said with a faint smile across his thin pale lips.  “It was and still it is a preposterous bog bombardment, by the way we have smartly lashed them, pushing the enemies into their medieval mountains.  The Talibans have fallen”.  He brayed, answering him without giving many details.

 

Mosy Jackson sighed blissfully while watching Mrs. Macdonald.  She twittered, “We are going home with him now.  He will come back to you to talk always about skirmish bedounec primitive wars”.  She wringed her husband’s fingers pulling him towards her.  They trampled off leaving Mosy Jackson admiring their beautiful gait, standing alone.  He really admired and completely envied them.  He can feel how much they missed one another.

 

“Hi! Captain Micky!  I wish you a happy and prosperous holiday, say hi to your sissy and your son!”  Brigadier Mosy cackled from behind, high heavy thumb thrown.  They never twirled to the booming shout as the empty air consumed the salute.  They marched off towards the taxi lot clenching their fingers together like damned angels. 

 

“I have missed you for all these long lonely days, it looks like, centuries since we were together………darling you have grown thinner and your skin is scaringly rough!”  She said whilst her left fingers chafed his rough skin softly as they pumped towards the chauffeur. “ Cave Davi, how much would you charge us?”  She asked the cab, grinning stupidly towards the chauffeur.

 

“Hundred dollars, madam” the cab answered, whizzing the taxi onto the highway on route to Cave Davi.  The Bedouin ascent betrayed entirely his background.  “I will take only four hours to your destination, comfortably”.  The chauffeur frowned, trying to hide his identity.

 

Captain Micky sat with his wife at the back sit behaving like young lambs out with their missing evening sunshine.  “Darling, it is all crazy, I don’t believe my state, and I love you. I am so happy to be with you again.  Oh madness, I don’t believe it all this time I have been thinking hat you will never come back to me”.  She blurs troth out burying her mess hair into his burly chest.  His fingers rake through her ponytail hair.  “Also do I, darling……….so much, I don’t understand how”.  “He is out for you always.  Your son, you look more alike than before.  He has grown duplicating you.  To your tender ages, darling”.  She said.

 

Kabbason Macdonald was their only son.  On the Zenith of twenty fifth February he will blossom to seventeen years old kabason was stalwartly well build like his father.  Big boned, governed by a masculine churlish temper.  Since his father left seven moths ago, he had immensely grown big.

 

Like lightening, the memory of the war flashed, the hellish battle making a permanent griming wound across his mind.  He screened intensely the soldier he shot…………”Why were those worthless dogs concerned about him………..”Before the second flash, his wife chucked in, “Darling, what are you thinking about?”  She soliloquized, very concern, feeling the torch of torture through what she saw.

 

As somebody who was in an infernal, inscrutable dream valley, “Darling, I am fearing somebody is following us”.  He articulated as aghast soul swirled within the cabin taxi.  She was scared, gyrating her popping eyes around.  Suddenly and so quickly, he turned his wondering face to a grinning, brave and a protective face, “No, I heard something bad, so nagging within my nerves…………anywhere war is the color of black.  Darling its normal for any soldier to break the manacles of Satan”.  He nibbled and watched her intently.

 

Mrs. Macdonald had to make him to forget all about the devilish Asian war.  She now understood the state her husband was wending through, so bitter to swallow.  Wrinkles of mercy and forgiveness spread across her face with a sudden suspicion, “You are going home far from the obtuse Central Asian war, are you getting me right, sweaty………….I will make you feel comfortable and soon you will forget about it altogether”.  She said with an impersonal peck on the cheek.

 

Undefined silence flowed as Micky Donald stared through the rear window of the moving chattel.  He can feel unfriendly cool atmosphere swooping across his face vomiting eighteen years ago, how they used to walk around this area, holding each other, the beautiful-flamboyant time it was.

 

It took them four hours to arrive at Cave Davi.  “To the left, lane twelve, court seventeen”.  She said in a whiney voice “oh, shit, I nearly forgot where we are, although I have been in this place several times”.  He said in a gentle high tone totally controlled to fit his ignorance.  The cabman’s eyes looked raucous as they flashed through the driving mirror, creating a volcanic wave of fear through the couple.

 

“This is one of the most peaceful and quite town we have in U.S.A…………you see, it is so beautiful for the wild birds to enjoy and mate”.  He said with a whispering voice towards her.

 

“Eh, crazy, Micky, it is far better than Afghanistan, I hope you will curse those wars”.  She said.

 

“This is your destination, I hope I am not wrong”.  “Yap! That is my house, you can take us inside please”.  Micky Macdonald chirped exactly.

 

“Pleasure! At last we are at home.  You can now leave us here…………..just park it along the car lot, they can pick the luggage from here”.  “We have really tried to propulse the hour, nearly four hour drive”.  The cab sounded wonderful in car drive, praising his motor.

 

The taxi man moved off, leaving them at the lot as if it was a run-away incident.  Yucafy Kwambs, the sister to Micky Macdonald never took time to believe at the grace of her beloved brother.  She swooped down the porch stairs, her long arms spread like a landing dark angel.  Their hands were entangled, Mrs. Macdonald was left dazzling with dismally, not totally believing to the site of his husband.

 

“Welcome home brother, for all this lonely difficult time you have been going through, we believe you have achieved what your psyche and your country was looking for.  And now it is our time to hold you, cherish you and be with you.  Brother……….this is our time”, she blurted, oiled with sorrowful tear down her cheeks.

 

Nearly immediately Kabason Macdonald sprouted into the living room like a toddler out to mess with his mischievous discoveries.  He gazed at his father trying to squeeze and mould the really image of his father.  He peeked, pooping his white ball-like eyes madly, eventually he got it.  Yes he is his real father.  Unbelievable! He ran towards his father gaily.  “Daddy, happy to see you.  Great, I had been dreaming for the last two weeks, your body held in the burning pyre.  So sinister daddy, and terribly scaring.  Gonna see my academic report?………..”  He croaked with a scaring, alert heavy male voice.

 

“That is a bad dream my son.  I know you have been very scared of it……….but you need to forget all about it for I am her with you, okay?”  He nodded and moved away from him.  Micky Macdonald sensed that the atmosphere here was tenser than where he had been.  The call of blood was ghosting throughout the building, cataclysm of fear engulfed every being within the grand building and above all, none was not cobbled with unseen death.  Captain Micky felt how much they loved him and how much they needed him.  He held back the sorrowful bitter tears forcing out, where they are held in the prison of mercy.

 

Mrs. Macdonald trudged towards the kitchen, “Let me prepare for you something to drink, orange can at least solve this snag, surrounding us”, she blurted, and continued “I don’t know where this awful feeling terminating my soul are from”.  “Darling stop puzzling a lot on these war matters.  Just concentrate on our family, everything gonna be all right.  Okay!”  “Fine, but it is too much and menacing”.  “You can control it by now”.  He said icily.  She twirled and tottered off.

 

She returned back with a glass of orange-jar, her face blanched white as if she was held in an internal bit.  Her movements had by now changed suddenly, so hobbled and hushed.  Captain Macdonald sat with his son and sister, spinning to them what was going on in Afghanistan.  The tale was very touching making Kabason to look scared and intricate, expecting the earth to open under him to be swallowed.  His weak thoughts were swathed by devilish mass killing, so frightening to his bosom.  “Son war is the devil’s way of making mankind to be uncomfortable, it leads us to kill each other, making us to hate each other like wild beasts”.  He stopped talking abruptly and sighed, reflecting horrifying memories entangled with grotesque fear within him, flashing through his thoughts.

 

She moved quickly and sat next to him.  Her prowess, strong eyes stared with forgiveness onto him.  The whole house was prodding speedily into the jungle of no return.  And soon it will be celled inside a high poisoned empty world of extreme cruelty.  The outrage talon of an atrocity was wading toward this family.  So unstoppable.  It is coming speedily, so soon.

 

“Father, your skin looks rough and dark…look at your finer, they are weald badly…I am sorry daddy, I wish you will not go back again”.  He said sounding aggrieved.

 

“Yes………..plus those wild soldier, the Talibans!”

 

The whiff of aroma ascended from the kitchen.  Supper was ready as the day was rolling itself up to leave enough space for the night to invent homes and tunnels scaring every living animal to be silent.  The sweet smell whacked every sense of the body of Captain Micky Macdonald.  Now he felt compelled at home, the genera of love from the entire family crunched him, accepting to make them feel comfortable.

 

“Welcome to our last supper…………..oh just forgive me our first supper, since you left us, nearly seven months ago.  You will enjoy…………..yah!”  She felt harassed as she took a deep sigh and moved, sitting next to her husband.

 

Captain Micky felt by now at home.

 

“I am not in a cheerful mood today.  Since I married you I have never been in this state.  I even don’t feel like taking anything”.  “Are you feeling unwell, or there is something wrong with you?  Just try to forget the past and concentrate with us, sweetheart”.  “No…………Excuse me! Warm for me bathing water.  I am feeling disturbed”.  He said pushing off unwarranting haggle.

 

Mrs. Macdonald shuffled along the corridor from the bathroom, her heavy head leaning to her left shoulder looking totally wretched.  She grinned obtusely toward her husband who was busy under chagrin, quaffing a dry Kceno France gin.  “Honey go and bathe, it is ready”.  Drinking will not solve your psyche torture.  I told you to assume the past as for now”.  She chirped and continued, “Kabason, why can’t you go and sleep.  It is time, stop staring at your father like that”.  She said amid squeezing both of his shoulders tenderly.  He stood, turning towards her lovingly.  Her breath can be whiffed across their warm, wet sigh.  He brought her towards him leaving a sounding kiss whirling with warm, wanting love.

 

“Okay I now you can go and bathe.  You can have what you have missed for long tonight”.  She warbled silently across his ranked minds.  All this time Kabason was gazing at them dumbfoundedly as if his parents were fury monsters out to scrap to death.  Kabason swooped off, taking two stairs up at a go towards his upstairs bedroom.

 

Outside was dark; lightening was flashing terribly decreeing darkness to mortality as the worst hurricane was progressing in from the West.  Although the Captain was at home, everybody was in a quail world.  Mrs. Macdonald made an indistinct sound and stood up abruptly as somebody who had sensed something hard to understand and tottered towards the bathroom, where her husband was bathing.  She was looking for peace within a troublesome environment.  At the stronghold of the bathroom, she stood very confused for what next step she would take.  A strong whiff of warm steam from her husband who was saddened under the shower attracted her.  She was badly dazed what step to carry on when suddenly she loosened her nightgown, she stepped out of it, peeling her pants, and she trudged towards him.  Captain Micky Macdonald felt somebody touching him his eyes goggled, with a disgusted breath, he quickly turned around.

 

“Darling, relax, I have come to share this wonderful shower with you tonight.  It is long since we did it with you.  I need you right here, sweetheart……….come to me”.  She bleated out, stepping onto the shower.  “Sure!………….you make me grow young and strong……………….anywhere, anytime.  I nearly collapsed when you touched me”.  “Sorry then”.  She whispered lovingly whilst she was chaffing him with her tongue across his broad chest.  They came together already for each other.  They took long tender deep breath as they searched each other.  She felt his heart thudding like that of a male buffalo out to crush any wild beast on its way.

 

“Thanks for loving and caring me honey!……………I don’t know what to say, eh… I love you”.  He croaked, cuddling her tight towards him.  Her slender, smooth body always soft to him was taken without any mistake.

 

She felt his warmth burning towards her.  Her knees jutting, larger and strong directing it to its place as she yelled breathing like a fighting bull.  It was raining badly when they moved to the bedroom. They sat on the bed wrapping his arms around her, kissing her repulsive mouth repeatedly.  She pulled him towards the bed delightfully, appreciating it, they slept.

 

At nearly midnight, Captain Macdonald had a terrific nightmare forcing him to be more scared.  In his inscrutable dream, he saw somebody wrenching him towards a bottomless pit, his wife being tortured by cruel and fierce monsters clothed in white, next to her, his sisters body riddled with bullets.  At the scent’s Zenith Kabason Macdonald was seen bawling for help, but none was ready to help him.  It was bad dream, a terrifying dream, all that sinister.  Abruptly he woke up madly and sat, goggling his mind badly dazed like somebody who had fainted.

“Why?…………..why?  Doing this to me!………..Jesus, where am I?”  He bawled.  Nobody heard him.  His bodies sweating strangely like that of a cobra in the furnace.  His wife was deep asleep, her arms tightly clenched as if she was a saint praying for forgiveness to the sinful world.  He glanced side to side; he wallowed off the bed, fear engulfing him completely.

 

“It looks like there is something wrong going on around here.  There is something following me……….oh gosh, madness, shit!”  He snapped to himself, as danger was being smelled in every angle and corner of the mansion.  Heavy booming of thunder can be heard noisy as it strode through the deep dark night sky shaking every prowess creature around.  Captain Macdonald twiddles towards the library, hasting as if it was an emergency to where he kept his gun.

 

“It is long since I used this gun……….No! What am I doing”.  He hesitated as the idea plunged him.  He jerked his head and hurried towards the sitting room with the gun tightly held with his left hand.

 

Being in high spirit Captain Macdonald unlocked the riffle, changing the cartridge proficiently and fixed its binocular into position.  Looking uncomfortable, he stood up surveying around the house, peeping through the thrown curtains, seeing nothing he moved back to the living room.

 

The night was salty as the violent windstorm brought illusive coolness in the house.  A horrible spirit with strange powers was hovering around Macdonald’s troubled mind.  After cleaning his riffles, he stood up strangely and scurried to the bedroom, his face controlled by wry.  In the bedroom he found his wife awake.  She wriggled with excitement; her eyes gazed at him full of tears.  She pushed her lips with discontent and murmured.

 

“Honey!………..Excuse me please”.

 

“Yah, why are you crying?”  He enquired hoarsely.

 

“I have had a chilly horrifying dream…………you were killed at the battlefield and your body was never found”.  She said as lightening struck, its beam penetrating powerfully with a scarlet light into the quiet bedroom, bringing with it more fear.

 

She gazed at her husband with mercy and feeling of tenderness.

 

“Sweetheart that is just a dream.  I am with you here, no cause of harm.  I am really, I am not a ghost or anything you might think about”.

 

“Then why are you carrying the gun……….a burglar?”

 

“No, I wanted to check whether it was in a good condition.  Nothing else, we are safe darling”, he lied to her and slumped onto the bed placing the riffle away under their bed. 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

When Vladin received a call from Afghanistan, he became white, crazily scowled like a damned wild beast.  At exactly ten-thirty morning Russian hour, came a call, a call which created more suffering to innocent people, a call which threatened his survival, a call which annihilated his evil kingdom, totally.

 

Picking the phone with force as if his fortune angel had informed him what to follow.  There were three phone rings, so high toned than normal.

 

“Hallo……………he is dead”.

 

Dump stupid, he become full of fury, curried and shabby, throwing every drawer searching his automatic sub-machine gun.  Like a rat in the cage, he threw it frightfully, kissing it again and again with pouted lips.

 

“Damned world, whoever killed my brother, I will throw onto them a net of vengeance for your death”, he shrieked as if he was with his death brother.  He stood up from his enormous shrivel chair pointing the gun’s muzzle towards an innocent blonde secretary.

 

“Yes! You, do you know who killed him?  You whore, tell me right now”.  He yelled to his private secretary.

 

No mistake was made; he pulled the trigger drilling a hot bullet through her right ear.  She was martyred to join Vladin’s many slaves of ignorance of murder.  Her skull was mantled like a crunched melon, oiled with scarlet liquid.  She was dead.  Abruptly as if evil spirits possessed him he started wailing.  Dropping the killer weapon down with a thud sound.

 

“Yes, you are dead, you demon whore.  I have no space for you.  Stupid fucker!”  He said while madly kicking the dead body on the floor.  He bent closely looking at her hooked deformed eyes, licking blood from her mouth, whiffing it with his middle finger.

 

“So sweat I gonna kill you”.

 

His bodyguards heard commotions, sensing something wrong, they flew to Vladin’s office, hurtling the heavy door with their gun ready for any defense.  Hurrying to see what was going on, they found the secretary in a pool of blood, Vladin holed in his chair dumbfoundedly with a bad tempered look.

 

“Take her away, you idiots!”  He chided.  None stood to hesitate, dragging her away in a dull manner printing along the heavy white turkey carpet with the oozing blood from the corpse.  Nearly immediately the office was rinsed clean, none will trace or smell any sense of murder.  Vladin’s office was notorious from mass killing and for the death of a mere woman was nothing to swat him from carrying on his duty.

 

His mind whirled with vindictiveness, he hasted towards his mullion Russian window.  Behaving as if he was peeping, now controlled by fear generated from the death of his only loving brother.  He stood there staring at Moscow City as it’s avalanche intermingled with a thick haze showered the entire city………No! He was not thinking about the city or his own state, he was thinking about his brother whom he loved and trusted.  Twirled and tottered to his desk, picked a phone and seemed to be calling to distant place gesturing wildly while immersed in vehement of revenge to whoever killed his brother.

 

At around three, an emergency secretary was brought to Vladin’s garish roomy, Miss Josephine Koschen, tall, slender with beautiful blue eyes who wore a proud smile often.

 

She was twenty-two years old, looking very innocent, but………….a dangerous woman in the dungeon.

 

“Hallo, Madam, welcome, you will really love this place so much, oh! Am sorry, can you introduce yourself and your marital status, please”.  He had changed like an innocent demon whilst grinning towards her.  She introduced herself.  Suddenly as if an arsenic substance has stung Vladin Chosef, he gyrated and strode off without telling the new secretary anything.  A wave of fear flushed through her face, as she felt that there was something wrong within.  She was thrashed on what to do next.  Her adrenalin gusted bringing a terrible fear within her.  Gently and cleverly, she decided to play it down and carry out what she was ordered for.

 

 She was busy arranging request order when Vladin hurtled back looking sad although comforting up himself.

 

“It is quite unfortunate at this early hour that we are moving out of here to another place immediately, you can excuse me for that inconvenience by now”.  He said, moving around the office clenching his left fist tightly.  He had turned more furious, his face looking wry.  Clasping his arms tightly against his chest, he clattered, “Although you came here as a mere secretary, you need to blossom to a prowess woman who can maneuver the world to any form and persist any trouble”.

 

He moved next to her, drunkard by confusion, he bent slightly and kissed her, horror and disgust Vladin Chosef had never kissed his female race.  He went berserk, not believing what he had done.  Disgusted, he moved away from her.

 

“I am going to call an emergency congress to discuss about my tormentors who had killed my brother………….today.  No mercy for anybody who tries to play with my kingdom.  He must die”.  He shrieked, whispering something unutterable.  He was a professional killer solely motivated by genie of the immortal soul out for his brother.  He was ready to do anything to get the killer.

 

Abruptly, he drew the brutal sub-machine gun from the drawer.  His smoldering eyes glanced around as if he was looking for something sinister eventually locked onto her.  Looking at Miss Koschem strangely a bit, he hesitated concluding nonsense, lastly he returned back.

 

Miss Koschen was not aware what was neither going on nor what had happened in this office some hours back.  She signed, controlling herself not to think a lot about it.  He moved to his desk lazily, his head cocked to the floor, picking the phone with a slight tremor, dialed but it never went through.  She kept hushed as Vladin goggled badly compelled on what step to carry first. 

 

“Have you ever used a short gun? Madam…oh! No, I mean have you ever seen one”.  Again he had changed miraculously to a grinning statue.

 

“Yes sir I have used one.  When I wan in college.  During the Southern Liberation war”.  She said.

 

She extended her trembling hand to receive it, her eyes surveying it carefully as they ascended up to Vladin his enormous body.  A big, terrible bang of aura was heard in their own world of hypnosis, producing sparks of weirding “Love”.

 

With clouds of love delightfully appreciating each other.  Suddenly as if they were in a deep sleep, their eyes avoided each other contributed by the spirits of love hovering above them.  He jerked his head away towards the mullion – Russian window, pretending that nothing had happened.  She was a professional whore, as a spider the trap was ready.  It was not affectionate love, but was to survive and anchor into this mafia group.  Vladin looking at her saw a baby face.  She would feel him in her with his gaze of touch.  He was held firmly, slowly being consumed deeper unknowing into her.  Vladin was like a scorpion at the corner of her psyche, which must be monitored at every commotion it takes. His light heavy hand fluttered up on her neck to a collection of gold and diamond beads, which she wore across her neck like a mail.  Stooping slightly towards her, looking broodingly, he torched her breasts softly as a beggar who has found a hidden treasure.  This is the first time he had been coaxed since.  He will do nothing as he was in a different spiritual world.  No movement, none!

 

Rising her head slowly with sex eyes, she rewarded him with a bright grinning smile.  Lifting her right hand, she brought down his head as he stood behind his office chair.  He was weak, confused and useless.  Slowly opening her well-curved lips like a snake ready to strike, her tongue enchanted him, flamboyantly.  Their mouths were planted together.  Together they were controlled by vehement of sex.  She went for his trouser, zipping it with power as he bent now closer caressing her smooth thighs towards the center.  She pulled off his belt, the trouser got its freedom and shoveled down.  She was yelling badly making him to be crazier.  She stood up whilst caressing him around the cheeks down to his gray goatee.  His balls were clumsy and tough ready to release the cold cells.  Vladin without hesitation, with his muscular talon fingers pulled her pants down, she assisted him by raising her left leg, crushing her pant down.  Moving to each other flesh for flesh.  Everything was hot.  Unbelievable!

 

His face went a shade paler in response to his fierce silence.  “My chauffeur will take you to your apartment for the night.  I know you have been exhausted from the day’s work.  We will meet tomorrow morning Miss Koshen”, he said as he ordered one of his guards to take her down to the limousine.  “Okay, it will be great if we meet tomorrow.  I will miss you”.  “Also do I”.

 

Miss Koschen was driven to her new apartment as a queen who had been in exile for long now retaining her palace.  Worshipping her star for what actually was taking place.  Four armed guards escorted her, the queer secretary behaving strangely as they flit towards her apartment.

 

“This is your room, mademoiselle, anything which you may want will be delivered to you without any dawdle and I am here to assist you in every angle”, the usher said standing at the stronghold of Room No.7 of the fortune woman. “Fine, I will inform you for any assistance”.  She hissed, slamming the door over his face and pumped onto the bed as the thought of Vladin drilled her.

 

“Wonderful!’ ’She snorted.

 

Vladin looking decidedly weak all at once dialed to Kandahar in Southern Afghanistan.  “All soldiers to be flown out of that place immediately, by tomorrow morning you are here”.  “Yes sir, we are moving out immediately by your order”.  The general of the dragon soldiers boomed under the outburst of wild feeling from the death of Vladin’s brother.  They were going to use the airstrip of Kandahar as soon as possible as anti-Taliban forces were closing in on the Islamic militia stronghold assisted by the Americans.  General Michael Dirochev under fury, commanded all his private army to report at the gateway to Russia before late, a limit of three hour was guaranteed.  The command was taken up to the dot.  The dragon soldiers were seen moving hoarsely to the airport carrying anti-aircraft gun, multi-Machine guns.  “The information I have, the compact squad, which killed my brother, on Wednesday, will be flown back to America.  And today afternoon, I have called for an emergence conference, you and your seven man-squad will be introduced.” Vladin said equably.

 

“…Already I have phoned to our agents in Pentagon giving them the physical description of the sniper before he gets out of our bullet touch.  I will take the shortest time ever to bring this killer for you”.  General Dirochev Michael said.

 

“Security system is going to change abroad.  In Canada, the director of St. James Hotel will be replaced and the sect code-disc to be returned here.”  Vladin said in a squeaking voice, moving towards their waiting armored vehicles. 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

  

The gates to the palace of the villain warlord were heavily guarded, so quiet and everything was at its comically extravagant state.  Even the singing parrots were watching as men of war swam to the conference driving the most expensive engines, gleaming beautifully for their evil furtive.  Nobody knew what went wrong somewhere, their window all were glided up and dark painted.  The few faces outside were grimacing cruel.  Amazingly, even trees along the avenue to the conference hold the wild wind at bay for the bloodsuckers to enter into their gnome hall of evil, the hall where the black angel was laying down plant on how to finish mankind.

 

The garish hall was totally hushed.  No breath can be heard, no movement can be seen, and only……………..only fear hovering above the delegate as they cuddle on their ever cold sits.  This was one of the largest emergence congress ever called by Vladin.  From all pats of the world, the International Trade Union (ITU) Personnel gathered fro the death of Thadefy Krofy.  The hall was still very much the scene of brutal crime operators.  Suddenly a wind of excitement waved across the hall.  Every member’s heart missed a beat as heavy steps were heard, none twirled to witness who was coming.  Their strong aura thrashed every soul within and around the conference.  The comfortable furnished ex-minister carpet covering the floor absorbed the sounds of the coming buffalos.  The savage of peace was coming in to stamp the operation.  His cloak winged like a launching Spiderman.  Their steps trampled the floor with propelling force towards the podium.  On the podium, the men distributed themselves taking their positions according to their fiend ranks.  As they sat down everybody in the hall signed, the bitter breath.  Crushing their airbags, at least they have been relieved as Vladin and his men become motionless.

 

Rich and powerful personnel from Africa, Asia, Europe and America can be seen clearly as their buttocks swathed the gold like furnished chairs.  Vladin Chosef on the podium, his eyes gazed at the,, he jerked his surly head towards his general, lastly he picked up the point and shrugged bringing with force the microphone next to him.

 

“Dear comrades, esteemed dragon commandoes, esteemed the general of the commandoes, Mr. Intelligence officer of our Private Army, Mr. Chairman of the Council of ITU, esteemed members of ITU, Business Associates.  First of all I would like to……………eh-express my gratitude for the honour you have availed to me of addressing the supreme legislative body of our ITU, the business network all over the world.  I am very, very aware of the significant role which our brave soldiers played in Afghanistan’s political life invaded by the American aggressors”.  He held his breath, turning his huge head slowly as the surly god surveying his angels.  His eyes once sparked with happiness were swathed up by a webbing of squint lines.

 

“Now comrades we will take three minutes standing for the respect of our must trustful comrade who was murdered in Tora Bora region of Jalalabad in the process of fighting for justice in Afghanistan”.

 

Before he mentioned the last word, everybody stood.  Every human mind in the congress was thirst of revenge.  Oh no!  None can concur whether they were so sorrowful for Vladin’s brother’s death because all the members always when in this hall none spokes, for their seriousness fetched nothing towards Thadefy Krofy’s death.

 

“Thanks, you can sit down”.  He growled threateningly and continued… “Availing myself of this chance, I convey to you hearty greetings and best wishes from my comrades, the members of the presidium of the supreme ITU commandoes from all Russian members of staff…” He hissed and continued…” A big role should be done or played here by the long-standing historical tradition of peaceful understanding of ourselves and the spiritual contribution in terms of technology and economical standards in reference to our goals.  These relationship have never been darkened by wars or conflicts”. He again drew a tense breath. “I passionately exposed the new colonialists the Americans are doing from Iraqi now to Afghanistan, I did a profound faith by sending our dragon army to assist our brothers by which my brother was killed by an American, idiot,” he harangued always a prelude to unpleasant feeling from within.

 

At a clear glance, his smoldering eyes were beaming with tears and well managed from inside.  On the platform two queer dandy women sat together.  The only woman directly involved in Vladin’s atrocious activities.  Both women among the members looked very scared.  They all knew him, they knew that he carried their fate and killing one of their members was a part of their sect rituals.  “We are going to endorse one point three billion dollars to search for my brother’s killer.  The siege will start now and today we will see them off the America without any dawdle, my dear comrades”.  He stopped talking abruptly, he glanced at his general, shuddered forcing the disquiet memory of his brother away replacing it with a bitter sweet smile.  Slowly he turned towards the audience.

 

“Now I hope that you are going to cooperate to the point.  Already some Americans in Afghanistan are parking off home and the latest information.  We have the son of a bitch is with them, we will not waste any second”.  He spoke without a blink.

 

“…………..For this General Michael Dirochev will give us much details about our operation”.  Vladin Chosef said equably.

 

“First, comrades, forgive me for the hell of mistake and unfortunates which befell us in Afghanistan……………and for that you will give me another chance to bring the head of this American dog.  With the help of our technology, wits and personnel in Pentagon, they kindly gave us the name of our target as Mickey Macdonald and his barbaric photo.  From the signals of America’s field operation in Afghanistan, the squad that was lead by this man.  Are now moving to their headquarter, Washington?”  He spoke without hesitation.

 

“And now I and my best seven commandoes, we are here and ready for the work you have given us”.  He blurted our and impishly asked them for the support.  All members raised their left hands up, endorsing for another game of mass slaughter.  General Michael nodded and moved back to his chair.

 

Immediately Vladin Chosef stood, holding the empty space, he said equably, “And now allow me to ask you all to join me in tossing the most luckiest journey abroad for our indomitable private soldiers.  Above all from my bottom of my heart, I wish the congress a lasting peace, happiness and prosperity forever I say a great thanks”.  He finished there turning, facing his secretary, beckoned her and they marched out. 

 

Together with General Michael moved to their Mercedes Black Limousine.  He moved swiftly, jerked the back sit door for Mr. Vladin and his secretary.  He gyrated towards the driving seat and bumped inside with force.  All this time, Miss Koschev has a sinister interest on this leanly muscled soldier.  When he caught her watching him through the rearview mirror, his pose became deliberately provocative but he assumed and drove off.  They headed to Citadel of Russia’s Lenin Restaurant where they held another meeting with heir intelligence officials.  They talked extensively exposing their computerized plans of eliminating Captain Micky Macdonald.  Seven commandoes will be flown to Vancouver Canada using American airbus plane as consumed businessmen.  From Vancouver they will be flown straight to Chicago, where they will take off using the highway heading through Toledo, Cleveland and their final plans will be carried in Canton.  Canton is their base plan-quarter, and it is here where they have one of the biggest hotels in America.  Many of their agents will be there waiting for them.

 

It was six thirty, the sky was clear from the distance, large dark clouds were moving in announcing a coming storm soon.  At the front of Lenin Restaurant, two black Lexus minibuses, totally concealed were neatly parked ready to take the commandoes to the airport.  All their ornaments were loaded and other essential items.  An aghast of commotion entered their lounge as the griming masked soldiers tramping heavily out to the waiting glistening armored motors.  Vladin headed them to the airport, and the two Lexus minibuses fumed from behind.  Quickly and swiftly, their luggage was loaded onto the airbus issued with fake identification no nay alarm was made.  Vladin offered no waving as he watched the plane take off to Vancouver, sitting at his back-left, he left.  Their seats were randomly arranged, mingled with the earth’s people peacefully.  At Vancouver, their name will be changed to fit the standard of ignorance and detection.  Agents of Vladin in Vancouver were alerted to arrange for another plant to Chicago.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Miss Koschev looked composed, quiet and enjoying these great moments.  Her stars were glowing, brighter towards her.  She cherished it, expecting to be brighter.  Vladin’s operations were now moving as per his expectation.  At his garish office, he went straight to his desk without caring who was following him, picked the phone.  He dialed a wrong number while his claw like fingers rake through his short gray streaked hair that coiled precipitously across the board skull containing the ghost brain, like damned gorilla.  He jammed, his face chagrining and quacked.  “Yo! Madam can you take a directory file-disc onto the computer and search for me the following personnel in Vancouver”.

 

He handed her the disc while his smoldering big eyes were fixed on her computer screen.  She took it and mounted it into the computer.  The proficient secretary within seconds, she found the creature of Vladin with his working numbers and phone conducts.  Turning around over her officer chair.

 

“Yes sir, I have got him………..his contact numbers and the working code”.  She said in a hushed voice.  He glanced on the screen and noted the numbers.  Picking the phone, with his left arm writing a secret code number down.

 

“…Yah, is John Balton speaking…” There was a short silence across the line as John Balton answered, his voice sounding dry.

 

“…Balton speaking Sir.  How was the meeting… I got an emergency call yesterday about the meeting but I failed to travel to that place due to some inconveniences here.  I will like your pardon for now.  I immensely apologize for my absence…”  Whimpered with a baritone  tone.  The bald fatty gentleman, just call him that for now, of sixty-six, flushed and foolish, who relayed on money a lot.  An idiot, a great taker, smashed the phone across his ear.

 

“Yes sir, I will do as per your powers”.

 

Vladin can hear a heavy breath through the line from Balton.  The phone held at his hand, tight, his eyes leering at it as if John Balton was within his reach.  A cursed breath was heard as he released the phone falling down with a thud sound.  He was unreasonably hurt without any good sense.

 

“For tonight we are not going to do much, Miss Koschev.  You are excused from this dubious work of our generation until tomorrow”.  He said amid topping towards her.  Taking her right hand like the ancient men impressing their queens, pressing his broad mount onto her smooth knuckles inhaling the warm fragrance of her skin with a sound kiss over it.  He picked her up, extending their arms with vernal hospitality to the influx of patron, mingled with evil love.

 

“Excuse me, do you take any drug…………any strong spirit or wine my dear?”  He interrupted flippantly as they stood, lounging over the cold-wall, enfolding snagging.  No answer was given as she started kissing him unaware, guttural something unutterable.

 

“Darling, I knew you just yesterday when your men brought me here, but I don’t know what is wrong, I need you…………..I love you, you owe me your love”.  She said heartedly with her goblin’s smile at her pale look.

 

“I love you sweetheart, for all this period I have been in this grotesque earthly movements questing for happiness, peace and revenge, instead I have got the worst sadness ever”.  Vladin said while Koschev was smiling in exactly the same way angel’s do.

 

He moved away from her, shuffling towards his desk.  He sat on it, his muscled arms twinned across his broad chest.

 

“Miss Koschev, I am following my brother’s killer”.  He said with a weak tone, and continued.”…………..I don’t know how much it will cost but all-in-all I must fetch this killer”.

 

She hobbled, moving to where he sat.  Her sexy eyes at crest-fallen angle.  She touched, chafing his thighs, caressing them with both of her hands.  She yelled moving deep into him.  Vladin’s mind whirled with excitement, his deep red eyes wondering.  Madness, he interrupted her and pushed her gently aside and served away towards the closed door.

 

“Let us get away from here.  I am feeling sleepy, time to go and rest.  I am cooked up, let us move!”  He chucked simmered with rage.  She turned white just for a moment and followed him.  He extended his arm and they fluttered out.

 

This was a moment Vladin Chosef needed a peaceful and caring environment.  And he had got the buffer woman playing a role that an angel of peace would play.  Since her presence within this tower of Vladin none had been killed or brought to the slaughter room.  Harmony was sprouting from within.  Harmony without roots, harmony irrigated by blood.  She provided a cultural crimson blood oasis from him in this rough and disagreeable stern surrounding.

 

Vladin Chosef’s mind gleamed with swift horror by the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, hell of death hoped intertwined with unworthy desire wrecked faculties hovering in the doomed abyss and the base motives that made him crazy as if forever.

 

Vengeance for the death of his brother with that powerful impulse drilled him more to the siege with his diabolical desperate fate.  Oh, Jesus!  He must move himself out of this mire with this wonderful woman, but will he make a delightful conquer of the evil desire that had taken possession of him?

 

Wearing his Soviet cloak, moving freely with heavy steps towards his armored limousine, behind him, she was fitting like a flying dolphin.  Down the stars she sailed like a coquettish.  Immediately the chauffeur opened for them the rear door.  The surrounding was totally hushed, the Zenith; Commanding the end time darkness. The chattel slowly pirated towards the highway.

 

“Hi, General Michael…listen, when you reach Vancouver, Balton will assist you to move to Chicago.  I have talked to him to handle everything in Vancouver.  I now commanded you to take our private sect-disc code from him.  Make sure you are alone in his chamber.  Shoot him in his office and replace him with his deputy manager.  The deputy manager, Mr. Poodhopoodi I have informed him about the changes.  I don’t trust this English man for he must be killed”.  Vladin blurted out.

 

“Yes sir, ah…………..by midnight everything will be finished.  His body, I will arrange it to be flown to Severoovinska immediately after we have shot him”.  The general blurted out through the phone.

 

When you see an owl laughing at you, know that it is against you it doesn’t want to be involved in business where supreme gods of everlasting spirits control their own reign.

 

For this entire nuisance, Vladin was aware of them.  He had helped Mr. John Balton to build business empires extending all around Canada and Britain.  Fully satisfied he had ditched Mr. Vladin.  For Vladin must kill him.

 

Vladin’s deeds were all evil, most of his ornaments, utensils and other unmentioned properties were made from human bones.  Mr. Balton’s body will be flown to Russia where it will be taken to a chemical industry at Severodvinska.  The flesh will be washed and the skeleton will be alone.  The skeleton will then be milled into fine power.  This human-bone powder will be molten to make various products.  Surprisingly even his shoe sole was manufactured from the bones of the former president of Hungary, Dr. Hammed Hammed who was murdered mysteriously and his body was never found up to date.  Vladin, villains savage who lives with the world generation peacefully.

 

“I am taking you to Severodvinska.  It is my home, my palace.  Where everything are operated from.  I know you will contain every sight you see”.  Thundered the champion of all base evil on earth, leaning lazily towards Miss Koschev.  The limousine changed power, now being drove at one seventy kilometers per hour, fuming terribly.  His bodyguard followed in suite with two black Lexus cars.

 

“I know you gonna love it.  There are many odds you have never seen and above all I am arranging for marriage in the spring at the very first of the spring, with you”.  He said while his blood face had a grave and child like expression.

 

“I love you darling.  I will not let you down.  I will do anything you want for you.  Darling………I really love you”.  She said musically and very contented, her hands thrown onto him.  She liked him and not ‘every” the true love from her bosom.

 

“This is the destination, I know you were longing for.  This is where you will be staying forever, sweetheart.  An excellent place for you”.

 

The limousine took down a grassy green lane towards Vladin’s private yard.  A whiff of different types of flowers consumed the cockpit of the chattel, duplicating the expensive inscrutable place they are heading to.  Vladin’s palace was properly guarded, after ever three hundred meters, his red scorpion soldiers protected a thick Iron Gate.  Miss Koschev kept quiet wondering at the galaxy lights from the rainfall electrical lights along the lane.  She was a total stranger all along.  At the last gate, the guards wore black-military uniforms with their faces masked in red.  Seven of them, stunningly crazy with their powerful, most modern semi-machine gun held across their breasts.  And over there, two watch tower kept vigil.  Immediately as they approached the, the deep, thick Iron Gate busted and slowly, the hungry high perimeter walls consumed it.  They drove swiftly into the fortified palace, they went around a garish red illuminated swimming park down to the underground parking lot.

 

The enormous building spelt deep into her voracious mind as a fortune home.  She frowned, lastly moved next to him.  Along the lounged, guards were filled with great surprise for, who this woman in the jungle of wonder.  No single minute ever Vladin was caught with a woman.  Every soul within the lounge went berserk, so did the three parrots kept along the corridor as they rolled their heads to focus clearly what great revolution of sexual race was taking place.

 

“Welcome dear, now this opens your future with me.  It is your kingdom.  Enjoy every moment here”.  He said not without sarcasm, but in a friendly way as one who had discovered other beings on the planet.

 

“I really like it.  It is so amazing to discover that a huge building like this existed here in Russia”.  She was filled with exhilaration with her eyes popped.

 

“I am very glad for your assurance to be one of us.  You must be ready to accept every tradition we carry here”.  He said with his face wearing a look of love of life that queens envied totally.  His smile suddenly broadened, quite unfortunate for none even Miss Koschev bothered for this development.  Oh Christ!  Vladin is so fragile, and if he can break, his fumes will crush every nerve of the living lungs.

 

 She simmered everything to be normal, she smiled stunningly with her hand chafing tenderly about Vladin’s shoulder flitting towards Vladin’s chamber down the subterranean.  Suddenly a scathing thought trailed her.  “Do I really love you?”  Dear!  Why are you scaring me?  Now you have tightly held me in your talon…………..Jesus”.  He abruptly interrupted her thoughts.

 

“My brother was not married when he died, and I feel to have a family to inherit this kingdom.  My parents also were killed long ago in cold blood, leaving us at a tender age.  The deceased brother and I have been looming all around Europe and Asia for many years, before we settled here thirty years ago”.  He stopped squealing as if he had recalled something inscrutable.  His huge heavy head was left leaning to his left shoulder as they marched on.  Tears from the depth of his heart gathered across his ballistic eyes.  As a professional, he managed them within.  A disciplined dragon man.  He gave out a biter wild smile and continued.

 

“So, I have decided to have somebody next to me, as he was my brother, who is you?”

 

“I am very sorry Mr. Vladin.  I will be next to your forever…do you have any close relative?”  Miss Koschev said feeling it deep into her heart and glanced at him as they pounded on through the endless corridor stunningly.

 

“No!” Came up the answer, short but to the point.  There was a long hush leaving Vladin wrestling with his thoughts.  They lastly arrived at a point, which seemed to be the end point.  A point of entry to where he roomed.  They stood at a huge door furnished with gold.  He shoveled out a remote control switch.  He buttoned some secret numbers and immediately a door like a wall bursted.  They fleeted inside but still to her amusement there was also another corridor although a bit short.  The door closed behind them, Vladin turned around and kissed her, leaving her at bay, turned and buttoned his remote control entering into a small cabin, which turned out to be an underground lifter.  Its door closed as they rolled underground.

 

“I am no longer a debtor of the gods as you are with me.  When my brother was alive, I was not lonely…………..now you have taken his space”.  He stammered.

 

“I am very sorry Mr. Vladin.  I will make sure that you are happy”; her voice came from her furry throat.

 

The lift vomited them into a room, which contained several equipments.  “This is a safety room, you can see some air masks and more fire extinguishers”.  He said leaving her staring at him dumfounded, chafing his left shoulder.  “You can wear this air mask and those gloves”.  Vladin handed her a pair of gloves and assisted her to put on the air masks.  She was puzzled why they were wearing those.

 

“We are going inside a dangerous laboratory, for the said of your life, we need these protection.  It is still enrooted to where I stay”.  He yelled from the air masks now making him to look more like a ghost.  She nodded with her head.

 

Miss Koschev was a character who seldom talks.  She rarely suggests anything, but above all she knew and she had tone through so many adventures in her life.  She cannot resist any fortune.  For Vladin, she respected him.  A crazy woman, she can change at any time.  She can move with anybody across her touch and totally annihilate the former.  Useless, a lady of no destination and hope, a fortune searcher, above all she was an angel.  Blue colours plus horrible crimson stars beamed all around this woman.  A woman you can cherish today and tomorrow you are gone.  Lucky, colonel you are Mr. Vladin.

 

They hobbled towards an oak deep door, he buttoned an electrical switch and on front of their face there was a big laboratory.  To her amazement she nearly corrupted.  Her eyes grew ball-white, looking like the Saharan puffin water bird.  She tried to cover her mouth, which was totally covered by the air mask, she failed leaving it gasping inside the mask.  From a distance she stood like the statue of Nebuchadnezzor.

 

“His, Miss Koschev get moving” Vladin dropped his phonographic voice like a lead of plummet of the ancient Parthian empire.  The tone nearly threw her out of her tough flesh.  Taking her left hand, they moved into the laboratory.  She was totally confused, delirious with excitement as the laboratory technologists on realizing of Vladin’s presence, jumped about like sailors during a storm.

 

“This section entirely prepares bio-chemical gases which kills instantly………it is highly toxicable over there we manufacture various ornaments and powerful explosives.  All around her my men are now working on human nerves and how to control human-kind to be loyal to their masters”.  He stopped talking as a sudden suspicion seized his clouded mind.

 

“Why did you bring me her, Mr. Vladin!  It is a dangerous place for me, with full of nightmare”.  She cried out cordially enfolding around his fatty waist.

 

“I am sorry Miss Koschev, but we are on our way to my chamber”.  Thundered the champion empire of evil now swaying freely towards his microbiological laboratory.

 

Crazy world, unbelievable, all evil damned world.  She followed him inside this notorious laboratory.  She could not resist it any more, clenching his arm tight, peeking behind him, she never and will never believe what she saw.  Madness.  Dead bodies lay on tables, some were cocooned in black polythenes and others lay naked.   Four men and an aged woman were working on a body of a man who seemed to be recently murdered, as fresh blood would be seen oozing.

 

“Here we take off the flesh and the skeleton left to manufacture ferrous household and some different types of ornaments.  Also some parts of the body are used as medicines against my mortal beings”.  He chirped, his arms enfolded with a murderous look in his dark eyes.  Miss Koschev would not say anything, for Vladin was her walking ghost.

 

“This world is composed of damned men and women, and nearly all of them belief in their aura.  And this type of aura power is the one which takes and controls you…you know when a man dies the aura escapes to the empty world full of most cruel spirits.  Some people take control of them to gain more powers against their tormenters.  Under telophysic all living beings have this type of power”.  The message sprayed a terrible drips of cold refusals fuelled greatly by insolent laboratory and Vladin’s activities.

 

Lastly, they moved into the dressing room.  They tugged off their gloves and air masks she had a hard time to remove the air mask”.   …Let me help you.  First you unlock it from under your chin.  Then you pull it up with force…Yah like that”.

 

“Thanks a lot”.  She said.

She gyrated and glared at him.  He moved forward and held her around her tine waist for the dressing room was closed with a professional owl’s eye, he gazed at her as a scientist searching for a foreign particle through a microscope.  She agreed and kissed him, so deep.

 

“All is over now, Miss Koschev”.  He murmured, like somebody who is possessed by a strange spirit.  He directed her to the door.

 

“This is wonderful, I have never been in such a scaring laboratory, and even I have never heard of what I have seen.  Please don’t bring me here again, darling”.  Her voice was so merry, so pure like that of the morning songbird.

 

“I apologize, but that is what you must be used to.  Now it belongs to you and your generation”.  His voice was commanding as they flew downstairs.

 

Since they arrived to this grand building, they had covered about one hundred metes down.  It was now eight thirty night hour, taking a down lift to where definitely Vladin stayed.  “Now sweetheart this marks the last adventure down here.  This is where I live………….welcome inside”.  He said facing her with an open smile, she enchanted him entering into his room.

 

Vladin’s complex building covered seventy-seven meters on the base area and down measured two hundred meters.  Very amazing.  The complex served over four hundred commandoes and above forty technologists plus doctors in the chemical laboratory.  These servants were seldom seen out of the complex.  Due to lack of sunlight, their skin had turned white strangely.  Every member within this complex had a tattoo on his or her upper left black of a human skull encircling the Holy Moses’ walking stick.  Communication network in this complex was of the highest order beyond human understanding.  No race can spy anything going within this complex.  Anybody caught in related mistakes to their operation was slowly dropped into boiling oil, for seven days, controlled to death.  Members were appointed directly by Vladin himself and beyond this your gods will determine your destination.

 

Inside Vladin’s chamber, it was more less like ancient museum.  The odour it offered none can tell.  At the entry two black ladies, half naked unshed them in.  Their faces bore a pleasant and a grinning face of what they are, with their heads bowed as the couple passed in front of them.  Miss Keschev moved quickly holding his hand expecting more miracles to happen.  The young black ladies wore long red skirts without any top, even bra.

 

They moved out of the scene uniformly as Vladin disappeared into his dine room with his princess.  Immediately they were served with Russian turnips and roasts.

 

“You can enjoy yourself, this is what we can offer by now.  Anything you will like to take you can order.  These ladies you see, I was given as a birthday present from Ghana in Africa, after I helped the present government to overthrow the former doctorial government”.  He said cordially with his black eyes directed to the strange meals.  The lady servants rinsed their hands after the meals and left with heir gait motion.  None spoke as Vladin seemed to be used with his type of living.  Both moved to the library on their way to the bedroom.  The doomed world, at the library human skull colored diamond-gold like were parked over the shelves like the books of middle ages being reflected by red, magenta, green lights from the ceiling revolving slowly.  Unseen source of a faint smoke suspended in the still air but the smell was not amusing.

 

Mr. Vladin lived like a monk.  A king in the hellish kingdom.  An amazing paradise full or oracles, a place no being can describe.  A palace of wonder.  Yes, blood was the talk of the day, swimming in and within was no big deal.  At Vladin’s bedroom, and reddish, the floor covered with red velvet pompons.  All hushed for the empire to rest, so orated.

 

On front of Miss Koschev lay the huge bed made of glass to be shared with this kinky murderer.  The door behind her was locked creating a cell of fear.

 

“I feel high with your presence, the feel is full of security to my tortured mind”.  He said moving like a war Victor towards her.  “Come to me darling.  Never be scared.  One day you will swim through this building freely.  I know soon you will be used with every activity going on here”.

 

“I am not scared, I really appreciate your work.  It is fine!”  She said standing very close to him.  He kissed her lips and injected his tongue into her warm mouth.  He left her stranded and started undressing her, the body, which was carefully concealed, was left nude, leaving him to do as his wishes were, he giggled squeezing her breasts with both hands, with her face thrown to the under-surface of the top of the cell.  He was sitting on the edge-bed while doing all this nonsense.  She felt sexier for the loved to be undressed.  She stood so pretty, completely naked before this big man whom she wanted to ride on.  For Vladin, he was sailing in the feminine world, his first time to undress a woman, the greatest masterpiece of the Almighty God that his eyes have ever been privileged to focus.  She frowned with his fingers fumbling down her smooth-nude body, fingers vibrated like midgets above a summer stream over her bright painted cheeks, coiling her eye like a fainting hag.

 

“It is my turn now, let me take off your cloths, darling.  Yah, like that…………take it easy.  “Yap!”

 

“You are taking me crazy, young lady.  You are not scared of me?………….it is my first time to do this”, he said.

 

All was done within a short time, their cloths jammed under their feet.  She frowned with pleasure as Vladin brought her closer to his puckered stomach.  Both could feel electrification taking its cause.  No man can dare look at this, lovable all sweet.  Evil world, why was I born to witness all these, crazy wild beasts.  Thy are really mad!

 

She laughed softly, like an angel witnessing a sinner who has repented his or her sins.  The fire inside them was burning transmitted by hot blood-flow.  They slept.

  

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

General Michael Dirochev entered into the airbus confidently ready to bout the American soldier.  The commandoes on the glance can be detected from any angel to be men on a dangerous mission.  Their luggage parked with the knowledge of what they carried.  The personnel working with the airbus were paid in advance of this siege.  Their seats were randomly arranged for the sake of ignorance with other passengers who were not aware whom they were traveling with.

 

“Tighten your belts, we are taking off to Vancouver”, the louder speakers announced.  Everybody was seen adjusting the safety belts across their belly.  Eventfully the giant iron eagle took off to the sky.  From Moscow to Vancouver, they will take around three and half hours to arrive at Vancouver.

 

Mr. John Bolton waited for the commandos patiently in hi black Cadillac.  When the Boeing 777 airbus arrived, seeing it from his rear-seat window, he smothered his cigarette and immediately lit another with his hurling eyes fixed on the airbus as it was landing.  Without any notice, he opened his rear door and stepped out.  His bodyguards followed in suite.  He was smoking as if the next minute cigarette smoking will be banned.  His big eyes were fixed at the plane as it delivered its passengers.  He can now clearly see General Dirochev leading his men down mingled with other passengers with their faces cocked to the stairs.  Although the atmosphere of fear had engulfed him, he can count them for he knew the commandoes.

 

Mr. John Bolton had already arranged with the airport personnel of his coming visitors.  The luggage had fake names with their destination.  It was sprouting to midnight, the moonlight although a pale radiant spread across the clouded sky filtering itself to the airport.  The airbus with its wings spread like that of a dragon eagle delivered the m=human viruses one by one.  Mr. John Bolton plunged forward to receive his men, men of evil mind, men of blood.

 

“Welcome Mr. General………this is all about Canada.  Everything is under control, you can move in without fear”.  He said amidst some intricacy, which spread across his moon-face.

 

“We have come to accomplish our intrigue………I hope you have arranged everything accordingly without any shit problem”.  His words were greeted with silence from Mr. Bolton who seemed not ready for any more killing.

 

“Yes everything is ready, you can switch to the operation without any hesitation, Sir” he replied as they walked grimly to their waiting cars.  The seven commandoes followed them from behind darting around with their heavy boots crunching the earth badly.  Their heavy tramping could be felt, yards around as they grinded to a black armored minibus to lodge them off.  At last they took off, down through Adams Street.  At the back seats in Bolton’s Cadillac sat General Dirochev and Bolton like strangers.  A cold relationship smelled within but both tried very hard to shield it, their minds were fixed to the point of evil.  All in all one will test his blood-water today.  Dirochev glanced at his diamond watch, his diabolic brain calculated something had to tell and escorted the puzzle by a gesture of his left hand.  It was some minutes past midnight, they had taken four hours from Russia to Moscow to Canada.  The summer was approaching and crucial coldness could be felt through their heavy lungs.

 

As their locomotives were rolling towards their destination, no man was talking to each other, it was like a death doom.  Outside, electric lights of the broadways were glowing calling bats, moths and the night men from leagues out of darkness to come in to inherit the night kingdom in Vancouver.  Within seventeen minutes, their buttocks were released at St. James International Hotel.  In this hotel, they will set a plane on how to fly to U.S.A.  St. James International Hotel belonged to the drug pin multibillionaire Vladin Chosef, Mr. John Bolton was the Director General of it.  Apart from being the Director General of this prestigious hotel, Bolton had many institutes around Canada and England.  The motors took through the left wing lane of the hotel and were parked at the VIP private lot.

 

Immediately as the motors ceased, Dirochev swooped off the car, without waiting for the bodyguards to open the door for him.  His face looked so ravenous, darting around as if he had been left on this earth alone, and blared, “Hurry up men!  Don’t waste much more seconds staring at nothing.  We have few hours here………..by morning we must be in Chicago”.  He yelled to his commandoes shoving his huge body viciously towards the hallway phone booth.  His Mackintosh black coat flown by his motion.  The commandoes hurtled out behaving as if they had been attacked.  Taking their position ready for any instruction from their general. 

 

He plucked the phone and tapped it on his palm with his head bowed under deep thoughts.  Lastly he jerked his head up throwing his mass of hair down his shoulders as somebody who has woken up from a deep trance.  He buttoned the numbers with his shoulder holding the phone towards his leaning head.

 

“Hallo!  Honorable Vladin.  I am phoning from Vancouver.  We have arrived safely………..yah everything is fine within two hours will be off to Chicago………….yes I will tell you every progress, thanks, yes……….see you later”.  He phoned to Russia to inform Vladin their safety and progress.  He swerved out of the booth, leaving the phone loosely thrown.

 

He summoned his men, sailing through the hotel lounge and took an underground left, injecting them along brightly furnished corridor.  The intelligent officer was left to keep watch along the corridor with other two commandoes.  Lieutenant Davids, a tall guy, young, good-natured with a high poised head with his left-handed style of foot walk, a bouncer was third in the red scorpion ranking.  He kept vigil with his two men on guard along the corridor.

 

The office of this fat opulent fanatic, John Bolton was enormously big and over decorated “we will like to know much of this network after leaving their headquarter , where will he first head to and what transport means will he use. Mr. Bolton, do you have any good knowledge to assist us?”  Dirochev clamored a Bolton’s office.

 

“I don’t have much knowledge of this man although I have tried to search much of his background, but…………much information can be got from our men in canton…………some hours ago when I got a fax from Vladin, I moved quickly trying to phone to my friend in Washington who is FBI agent, but all vain I never go in touch with this gentleman”.  He whimpered, with his talking of a parrot fetching nothing to Dirochev.

 

“Can you give me the name of that son of a bitch?  I am not here for stupid tales”.  Dirochev said with a serious face.

 

“Yes this fellow of mine………….a good, cooperative all that good looking………”Dirochev was totally disturbed and grew more cured with his face scowl, interrupted him as he was busy describing his useless used fanatic, “I don’t want so much stammering here.  I clearly asked you to mention the guy now!”  He grew more furious, a wave of tremor could be noticed.

 

“Okay……….he is Mr. Handy Krispton.  From Texas, I told you he is my friend, he is married with……….”

 

“Nonsense, please stop it there you dying foolish hog”, the General yelled, clutching his veined fist ready to squash him.  He had to control his temper to allow him to finish the assignment.  Mr. John Bolton’s bodyguards sensed danger, moving to the other side where he sat nearly immediately Lieutenant Davids, the intelligent officer hurtle into the office accompanied with Mr. Phoodipoodi and the commandoes bounding in a propelling force.  Mr. Phoodipoodi, an arrogant young man, carrying his broad chest within the muscle bound commandoes all serious looking soldiers, the Deputy General Manager of the business empire within the Vladin web.

 

“Hi, Mr. Dirochev, happy to see you.  How are the Russian comrades doing?”  Mr. Phoodipoodi greeted the general, tapping him repeatedly over his V-shaped cobra like shoulder.  With amazement, the general replied with a glowing bright face.

 

“Hi, Mr. Phoodipoodi, I have been looking for you around.  Holed up somewhere?”  He sneered looking at him with Puma’s eyes.

 

“No, Mr., I have been fixing for your flight to U.S.A. everything has been finalized, I am very sorry for the death of Vladin’s brother.  I have known the folks for a long time, we have been together into the notorious Germany cells, I think you heard about our case and he was the same man who helped me to escape from those inscrutable German prisons in Berlin.  I am really very sorry”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi said sounding aggrieved.

 

A crowd of prosperous looking intrepid commandoes prompted their empty dry eyes towards these two gentlemen.  The worst odour of enmity and blood thirst was cleared.

 

“Alright the aircraft which will take you to Chicago is being serviced by our men, the small aircraft will carry about nine people.  You will land at a private airstrip near Chicago.  The operations is very secure to the standard”, boomed the innocent looking gentleman.

 

Behaving like a fat heavy gritty angel who cant lift itself and it had been let on earth by its gluttonous behavior, Mr. John Bolton’s body dumped on his black shovel leather chair like a looting pumpkin without a word controlled by premonition.  A stupid student in a class of anatomy.  No word could be heard from him.  Listening keenly for none could gauze his thoughts.

 

“That is excellent for the arrangement.  Exactly to the point………….” Said the fore pleasantly.

 

Not aware of his fat, Mr. John Bolton handed over to Michael Dirovhev the U.S.A. map deeply detailed, showing the structural routes within and around Washington to its Northern country.  He never knew that this gentleman carried his life and this same night he will release it to the other worlds.

 

“Yes, Mr. Bolton can you give me the secret sect code of International Trade Unionist, I mean the disc of I.T.U”.  His voice was cruel and demanding.

 

From his high swaying seat of his hansom, he glared at him with fear, hopeless destination with no end of darkness.

 

All these gentlemen held their breath for the action to take its course…Why do they want this secret disc?  Does it mean these murderers will finish me? No I will not give then!”  A horrible thought thrashed his used mind, bitterly.  Clear sweat could be seen within microseconds germinating from his big pumpkin head.

 

“No I don’t have it sir!”  Came up the answer very contented.  The general looking at him as if Mr. Bolton was a python at his reach, he stood up with a high temper full of fury, he banged the desk and the sound ascended consuming the entire room.  His commandoes and Mr. Bolton’s bodyguard gave a slid motion as if they have been disturbed by a high voltage bomb blast.  His face was harsh.

 

“I command you by my authority to hand over the secret disc…Now!” His gravel voice rose threateningly.  The soldier was vaguely hurt.  He changed color, breathing heavy, like hell.  A soldier with no compromise, a man who can kill at a mere glance No!  The damned soldier was very technical in handling hooligans.  Mr. Phoodipoodi stepped forward with his careful, selected intellectual words.

 

“Now listen my intimate manager, the computer disc code will give us much knowledge of our operation with security.  Without the disc, our operation will be at risk.  Please do as our comrade Dirochev want”.  His voice sounded musical and to the point.  The tone digested Mr. Bolton his unwarranted refusal.

 

“…Okay, well will you return it back to me after your operation?”  He asked with a sorted voice.  His whole body was wriggling with fear.  A useless burger, now his time has been numbered.  The end of wrangling, well for dusty.

 

“But you return it, I will use it for the sake of our union.  You know Mr. Vladin gave it to me with instructions not to hand it over to anybody………….I hope you will not let me down sir”.  Mr. Bolton said, his face locked into his deputy.  Oh no! Bye Mr. Bolton, the hell is calling you and you are answering it without your knowledge.

 

He stood, slowly avoiding a cruel look from General Michael Dirochev.  Turning around, he carried his huge, shapeless body towards the safety strong room.  He inserted the key into the iron door with a little struggle the cranky lock opened.  The cabinet was properly secured, inside, it contained several drawers.  He stood a bit as if he was selecting the appropriate key for the drawer, he frowned, very confused at a state of no hope and direction.  His heavy brain whirled with full of dark stars, his nose like carrot, battered by the frolicsome, released a fume, which could lift a fry to the heave.  He hesitated a bit, eventually he concluded something, which you couldn’t tell, opening the drawer with force.  The gods of mercy turned their skulls and the heavenly holy angels went berserk, with the sect disc was a human skull carefully decorated with gold and diamond.  This also was his treasure, but nobody was interested with his medieval collections.  He took the disc out with full of fury, his face looking haggard, kissed it and hurtled towards his office.  Unfortunately his body was heavy, his thinner slender bony legs had a big task to transport this opulent gentleman back to his desk.  After all, a break for unlucky buttocks.

 

All this time Michael Dirochev and Mr. Phoodipoodi were watching his movements.  He never gazed at anybody, even his bodyguards were not amused of this.  He plunged down his buttock, releasing a long forceful breath of life, you can think that the gentleman had burst.  He glared at the disc with the look of curiosity and bloody.

 

“Eventually that I have been keeping by my life has gone………….” He made a low indistinct sound as he offered the disc to General Michael.  “It is in its original best conditions sir, you can have a look at it over the computer screen”.  Mr. John Bolton said.

 

“At last you are behaving well……….boy.  Maintain your spirit stable”.  Dirochev clucked with professional eagle’s stare, satisfied with the curiosity, he cocked his face to the floor.  Both men moved away to the computer desk.  General Michael Dirochev loaded the computer buttoning the research switch……….wonderful!  On the screen a human skull appeared with a sword imprinted through it and it started rotation on its own axis vanishing to its infinity.  After the scarlet screen consumed it, the name of their association appeared, CHOSEF VLADIN THE PRESIDENT OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE UNION.  The name disappeared with twinkles accompanied by a memorial melody.  Among those who had never witnessed this, moved aside leaving the brave souls to learn their faith.  Identification of their fellow members with a skull on their upper shoulder chained the short event with clear ranks from Vladin to their servants.  Also it contained future plans covering over three hundred years and their wrangling activities all over the world.  Forty-seven state members were screened with a database of their underground motion.  The disc was all that dangerous.  Carrying it was so risky.  It was a life and a treasure of this evil organization.

 

“Now we would like to have some privacy and all of you get out and leave three of us here for a short moment”.  Michael Dirochev said, chucking his big head towards his comrades.  Mr. Bolton gazed at him with a merciful look.  He sensed danger.  The bodyguard tottered out compelled with premonition.  They squeezed themselves out of the office like castrated male pigs out for slaughter.  As they moved out, General Michael glared at them with bitter anger pouring itself from within.  All could feel a commotion of outrage atmosphere, even the bad tempered general was not at ease with himself.

 

The commandoes gave way for Mr. Bolton’s bodyguards to march out, their arms enfolded, swathing their heavy thorax.  Expulsion of Bolton’s guard left him with a worst ulcer swathing him.  He was left in a turmoil state, with his fate being terminated by general Michael.  “Also you…Yes, you soldiers, get out and leave us alone in peace”.  The general said hastily turning his murderous eyes towards the intelligent officer.  He gave Lieutenant Davids, a squint, the digital among the scorpions.  None detected the sigh apart from the commandoes.  Under the hierarchy of the commandoes, silent communication was highly valued within their secret morals.  The Lieutenant nodded and marched out, their stamping feet, swooping the dark green asphalt tile floor away to the corridor.  They moved out creating a war within, a war, which will make their fiefdom empire of evil to stay for a time and time.

 

The commandoes were always armed.  Their weapons arrangement throughout their huge bodies was so complex and few may detect their weapons.  On the surface although looking furious, they always showed some ignorance, for fear was their vocabulary.

 

The commandoes tumble heavily across the office floor and marched out.  Without wasting a second, Mr. Phoodipoodi propelled to the door and locked it. The iron door separated the office from the outside world.  Nothing could be heard going outside or inside, even if you drop a momb cell.

 

After closing the door, he swerved swiftly towards the rounded red table dropped to the floor in a dark green asphalt tile edged with bullion fringe.  The general was buried with the computer, trying to search for the best way out of U.S.A. after the furtive.  On his left, Mr. Bolton looked trance and tired.  He never knew evil life ends with evil and his destine will be hellfire.  His cheeks, chisel-shaped, rested on his fatty V-shaped hand palms, looking very wretched.  He held a secret sorrow to his bodyguards but neither to the general nor to his deputy, his only dream for a gaudily night was shattered from his dairy.  He moved out with women daily.  For this sore night, the option was nearly absent.  He was all through delirious with premonition, he would feel now ghost haunting him across his eyes and death was within.

 

Mr. Phoodipoodi tramped to where general Dirochev sat.  “When you arrive at Chicago, there are many odds there.  You will make maximum attention to the police.  They should be kept at a distance.  If any of those bush workers notices you, they should be silenced by the hot metal or their legal tender”.  He dropped his gashed voice as if he was a god angel.  Mr. Michael Dirochev gazed at him as a physician studying a frog spread on a surgeon kid.  Soliloquy, Excellency can be concruted by the nodding of his puzzled head.

 

“You will stay here to monitor this entrepreneurship and if we need any help, you will fall in immediately.  Make sure you have your men ready for any action if need be…………” he had began his old raucous, Matyrous thunderous speech of threatening.  Mr. Phoodipoodi a booby creature took everything at ease, as he was calculating every move towards this disaster.  A good thinker who has been misused by these mafias movement of Vladin.  They talked at length with this environment of silence, not caring Bolton’s presence.

 

At long last both men stood, swirled towards Mr. Bolton with a surliest look.  Their look was like when Lucifer was declared unfit at the heavenly kingdom.  Their faces bandaged towards the evil world, out to commit murder.  This was one of unjustified killing by the Vladin kingdom.

 

“We really apologize for any mistake which we can do”.  Diorchev prompted softly and continued,   “Your position is sliding off to a gentleman who seems to be more professional than you.

 

“But Mr. Vladin never informed me of any changes within these entrepreneurship and if you want to ditch me for all these time, I have worked for him, God knows my destination”.

 

“Nonsense!  You mean to talk all that shit?……..Mr. Bolton, by now I am supposed to be in Chicago to pursue my target”.  He muttered severely shoving his automatic revolver underneath his army jacket”……..I am going to pin on that dead-bed chair of yours……….god damn fool, we must eliminate you for the sake of our operation, I and Vladin we don’t rust you for all these three and half years.  I curse you for using our business quarters for your selfish ends, and for that I declare the sentence of execution on you now!”  His voice cracked, barly audible and his throat became suddenly dry.

 

This made him to be angrier with this booby English man.  General Michael Dirochev, a man who cannot hesitate to shoot, Mr. Bolton his fatty veined hand trembled as if fumbled into the pocket of his coat for the pistol.  It is too late Mr. Bolton!  As the general pulled the trigger, the fierce bullet crushed the head and immediately a fountain of blood came out oozing across his ancient withered fatty face.  It is finished go to hell Mr. Bolton.

 

Mr. Phoodipoodi gazed at the slanting of his master, holding his short gun very confused but contented.  He had pulled the gun when he realized that Mr. Bolton has also taken out his pistol, but too late.

 

His shovel chair kept him in peace as if comforting him of a tragedy.  He had gone with several secret of the terror union concealed at his armored brain.  The general surged forward, bending he leered through his eyes, satisfied that he was dead, he tore his shirt with surliness of the tattoo.  He stepped aside.

 

“Place him on the desk, on his front here is something I am suspecting”.  He said directing his voice to Mr. Phoodipoodi.  He moved forward without any dawdle and scooped the corpse with power and struggle placing it over his desk and frowned.

 

“This big is very heavy………..let him carry his body to hell, at least we ill have a breathing space within this complex”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi said as he moved aside.

 

Taking off Mr. Bolton’s fawn-rain coat like an undertaker. With a look in pitying surprise he turned around and faced Mr. Phoodipoodi. “I told you this mother-fucker had other movements around. With this tattoo of a flying black-mamba dragon carrying two-edged swords, shows clearly that already he was working with some horrible mafia battalion whose bases are found in Israel, France, Colombia and Ethiopia.  Yes that is why he always opposed our operations”.  He summoned his voice as he nodded his evil head.  Mr. Phoodipoodi swerved forward to see and take the testimony for himself, he nodded still holding his killer weapon, studying the tattoo keenly.  “I have been watching this man for a long time, surprisingly his funny movements nearly made me to phone to Russia for Mr. Vladin.  Of late there has been several calls here and some strange visitors booking in our presidential lodgings”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi jabbered with some selective movements of his fingers fumbling on his short gun.

 

“You need to be very alert on my mysterious behavior of every member within and repot it without wasting time.  For now you will be left with this office.  This body, you arrange it to be flown straight to Russia by tomorrow or right away now!  Every phone call must be taped and make sure you inform the callers, the fanatic has been transferred.  Never talk much.  Cross many calls as possible”.  He grumbled to him, his used eyes compelled with somnolent.

 

When the commandoes scurried out of the office before Mr. Bolton’s guards, a fever of fear captured the guards as they lounged along the corridor.  The commandoes glared at them led by Lieutenant Davis, looking dreadful dangerous.  They moved next to them valiantly like jungle beasts out for their prey, their brains whirled with excitement, they will finish these bodyguards as soon as possible.  They pitied against each other.  All this caused by Vladin.  They will kill each other to justify their lords.  Lieutenant Davids fixed his smoldering cursing eyes onto them with a violated expression, the bodyguards unsure what was going on, felt somehow not at ease with this commandoes.  Their temple rose with fear, adrenaline poured without control.  The corridor contained no soul.  The commandoes behaving as if they were at pace with the three guards gyrated and engulfed them with uncomfortably hot surge.  They sprang onto their throats like shit, never giving them a space to screech, their whetted killer knives mangling them into pieces.  Their throats were cut within seconds like when Muslims does away with pigs.  It was so accurate and puzzling.  They were the most accurate manslaughter ever recorded in the black book of the demons.  The three dead bodies were left writing helplessly.

 

One commando swerved to the next door, whack it with a kick, the door shattered into two.  The room was a secretarial office occupied by a night female secretary.  Before she swayed towards raucous sound, the commando made q quick move and his open strong palm clasped across her mouth and the other hand across her tender head.  The soldier swooped down with force, his mouth clenched with fury, he twisted it, breaking it abruptly.  He gazed at her with white face, bent towards her kissing the gushing and shrieked noisily maddened by the death woman’s soul.  He left her with a bawl under high spirit and jostled out.  Turning around at the door’s stronghold, he glanced at her and tramped back onto her tugging her blood stained blouse and whisked of bloodstains around his sucking mouth.  Turning around, he rumbled through the office very contented of the evil he had done.  He threw out a signal to his fellow commandoes to bring in the three dead bodyguards.  The commandoes pranced into the corpse, dragging them into the room of death.  None glanced to the slained secretary, who seemed to be a alive although turgid.

 

“Now move out, quick………our general by now is through with Bolton.  Take position along the corridor.  Silencers to be cocked for any scald”.  The intelligent office, Lieutenant Davids cackled with a scowl face.  They gushed out striding along the corridor like victors of peace, the fanatic dragons.

 

The heavy door sprung open, both men jostled out.  None could suspect them of murdering Mr. Bolton under the law of the doomed world; they were innocent.  Their faces were blanched by the triumph of this short operation of murder.

 

The ravenous men sandwiched in their incursion scurried along the corridor intruding swiftly, totally hushed, and taking to the left wing of St. James International Hotel.  Behind, Michael Dirochev, the commandoes were kept darting around gathering maximum security and ignorant leaving behind the death victims to decay.

 

“My men have done away with his bodyguards.  For now, the scuffle within this corridor is offer.  You need to select good bodyguards today and make sure you know their records.  Some of the guards you may hire might be involved with this dead man.  Take good measures when selecting them from the outside world.  Thy must be solidly build and good shooters, above all those who will keep and maintain your words.  Do away with any drunkards and drug snuffers.  No woman will be testified before your soul.  Be very keen with woman, they are bad generations.  I summon your cooperation highly, mostly at this times of siege”.  The voice sounded startlingly close to his ears.  It was past midnight heading now to a lobby directing them to Phoodipoodi’s office.

 

“Sir, I thank you for your quick fall in.  At least once more we are born free from Mr. Bolton.  I would like much of your tactician wits influence with this complex hotel.  Apart from management, security from well-trained personnel is appropriate, you are very aware we have ill trained boys here in Canada.  I don’t know whether after the American wage you will send to me some few scarping commandoes to train my men also to take them through the normal rituals.  Again on top of that I would like to have modern weapons…………..sir”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi’s words trailed off, saluted with a sardonic type of smile.  All this time, General Michael Dirochev fixed his cursing eyes on him without blinking with his face growing more blushed, his mind totally washed with the death of his friend, Vladin’s brother, Phoodipoodi realized his behaviour, he glared.

 

As they intruded into Mr. Phoodipoodi’s office, the commandoes were summoned to stay outside,.  The two men plunged into the office as gentlemen with their gait motion of power.  The enormous room was occupied by two dandy woman immersed into printing computers, busy.  Immediately, the two ladies stood creating the atmosphere of their present, with their trademark, no greetings took cause.

 

“Welcome, I know this might be the second time to be in this office.  I would like to propose for the transfer of Bolton’s office equipment to this office instead of moving there.  Also the financial controller should be informed of the changes immediately”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi said.

 

“There is no problem of transferring those machines here.  You would do that later after Boston’s body had been flown to Vladin’s palace.  For the financial controller, I would like to communicate to him now.  You have his phone numbers…” General Michael Dirochev asked as the new manager fumbled for the number across his banked brain.  Taking his cellular phone from his chest pocket without hesitation, he dialed the numbers.

 

“Hallo!  Are you getting me clear…Yes, I am in my office with our comrade Michael Dirochev…Yes, he had been here since nearly midnight.  He could like to have a word with you”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi shoved the phone to him.

 

“How is business pushing you here.  Maintain it to the required level. We have made some changes here.  Mr. Phoodipoodi has taken the office of the General Manager from now.  No any dealings with John Bolton from this hour.  He ceased to be an employee of St. James International Hotel maximum cooperation between you and the new Manager to be schooled.  I wish both of you good luck”.  The message flowed through the space and lodged into the financial controller’s proficient brain.  All was done for less than two hours to duplicate the entire St. James International Hotel to a different mercenary motive. 

 

Mr. Phoodipoodi, a firm, aggressive, serious and result oriented businessman, on the other hand, he was temperament, arrogant and headstrong.  “The gentleman will assist me to tape many of the complex’s resources running out and the hotel superiority to be gained through the entire continent.  I will soon gain its magnetism of the lost customers within the next three months.  The influx of the lost glory will flow in as the exit of Mr. Bolton”.  He prattled.

 

“I would like to work with you as long as you will be with me.  After this on slaughter we will set a secret oath which will bind us together………….you will be very alert with some black-markets, mostly from Cambodia.  Drugs and arms from Russia should be marked…………this arrogant FBI are at high seas, very slippery never allow unknown beings around your horizon.  Above all you need to revise union scorpion rules, properly”.  The general said hastily looking unsettled.

 

The office gave birth to a weird atmosphere.  Although it was past midnight, the outside was swathed of unseen darkness held by a vacuum of silence.  The wind was well managd at bay, even the night crickets gave maximum respect around these human beings.  Evil is the grimmest haunting demon power, once it holds in possession of human psych, it turns them to worthless beings and awkward at all circles.

 

With a fluttered expression, Michael Dirochev swirled away from Mr. Phoodipoodi abruptly………..”Before dawn we must be in Chicago.  My brother, now, they are waiting for us there.  This linked dark firmament will reduce any chance of detection.  Let us move out”.  He bleated out.

 

“Yap!  We will go straight to the aircraft four hundred yards away from here”.  Mr. Phoodipoodi said looking clm and self possessed.  They flitted out.

 

“Let us move men…it is becoming late two hours from now we must be somewhere…move!”  He bowled under violent excitement, by passing the confused commandoes towards the lobby.  The ground floor lounge was clear leaving ruffians striding speedily away. 

 

They plunged into their motors and drop off swiftly towards the airstrip owned by the Vladin’s government, a government without territory, a government of evil people, a government of blood, yes a government like that of the religious devout spiritual worlds, but this government had a central governor.  A center head; Mr. VLADIN, a dictator of all ages.  Taking a private lane, the chattels boomed towards the destination of departure.  At this airstrip, Vladin’s bungalows spread like mushrooms in the tropical African jungle.  They were among the best bungalows in Canada.  Satellite could be seen clearly as you enter into the courtyard, at the center the airstrip ran three hundred meters.  Every cover within the courtyards security monitors governed the wanted peace.  The 01 Ford explorer and the jeep Cherokee motors were parked near the dine hall.  All men moved into the dine hall, Russian turnips entangled with roasts, were prepared in advance of their coming.  Four female servants were ready to serve their masters.  All the eighty men sat for only meal before they moved out.  The female servants served them and dissipated to where they belong.  The men looked like disciples who have been defeated, so disturbed perplexed as they swooped onto the meals.

 

“Now listen comrade, we are moving out to Chicago.  Your attention must be directed by your vision and the conscience, no any cause of alarm, you react quickly and swiftly.  Tardiest action will spill your blood mind you.  Apart from your reactions, the victims who will be found within our limit must be annihilated.  Highest speed and accuracy to govern you plus your honored wits”.  Michael Dirochev raucous voice punched the commandoes minds to City Street fights, those scalding warning words, which you must understand but not read them.  All men were attentive to their master as disciples to Christ.

 

The night although very quiet, it controlled the unpleasant chilly, but from the firmament, lightning flushed seldom defining the dull sky with rugged clouds rumbling clattering, tripping to the west.  The commandoes clenched their raincoats as they strode towards the hanger.

 

Suddenly the overcast held the moon amid the clouds.  It was all that round and what surprised the gods, everybody gazed to the heavens where an expected beam had filtered.  All the ruffians held their step and their faces were jerked to the zenith.  Their strong brains wondered without any apparent reason what was going on.  An owl was seen wading up and up as if the moon was its nest.  A huge cloud covered it.  The darkness consumed them.

 

“What is going on…Men let us move?”  Michael Dirochev said in a low soft voice, but none heard as they started plodding towards the hangar directed by their conscience.  They tried to look penitent but nothing could suppress the fear that danced permanently across their sagacious killer thoughts.  What happened none understood.

 

“It seems it is going to rain at the West…mass of heavy clouds are rumbling to the West…” Mr. Phoodipoodi never finished what he was blurting out, he wanted the fear within them to burst, but he was held by undefined reasons.  Quietly, the men all in black entered into the jet without witnessing who they are traveling with.

 

Mr. Phoodipoodi watched with dismay, as the jet was grinding itself towards the sky.  He stood there until the aircraft disappeared into the changing weather.  Satisfied, he swirled back to his car, accompanied by his two hotel bodyguards.

 

The intruders filled the cockpit with their minds fixed on what they might face in their dangerous incursion.  The aircraft penetrated the thick clouds as lightening streaked through the dark clouds declaring the darkness to be immortal.  A terrible thunder followed rumbling like a dying buffalo in the jungle.  Everybody cradled against his or her seats and excitement controlled their tough prowess.  The Russian strong men strengthened their muscles, their eyes wide open wondering as if looking for their coming death.  Confusion held them tight as the airboat was plodding through.  The aircraft pierced through vomiting a release of fear within the oracles of war, attaining its position above the sea of clouds gravitically held below them.

 

Michael Dirochev, muscled sportsman, who sat next to the pilot twiddled and faced his comrades.  Very atrocious killer, he stood and trudged along the aisle.  His tall body smearing the fuselage along the cabin.  He moved towards the intelligent officer, Davids and sat next to him on the chair, which was empty.  He shrugged shoveling out a furled map from his chest-pocket.

 

“This is the network where our adventurous activity will take I would like you to master it.  We need to select specific grounds where we will strike from without causing any alarm…………routes we will take if cornered”.  He said taking a pencil out of his pocket.  The intelligent officer leaned across to him duplicating every information to the dot.  The breathe could be heard as etched sigh, expelling a tress of fear within from the depth of their pumped up lungs, pointing from Pentagon to where possibly Micky Macdonald will be holed as per the information they had.

 

“Here is where they will have much interrogation from their army intelligent offers about the war in Afghanistan.  The CIA and FBI bullocks would like to gather the knowledge basing their interests mostly about war maneuver tactics, the environment, machinery and the whole war at large………..but before we go far, the victim we are longing for, we must be very familiar with him and his next kin”.  He said hoarsely and stood, moving along the aisle to where he sat and twirled back with some photos.

 

“My fellow comrades, still we have a long way to go, but before that, we are going to get acquainted with the man of our operation.  Each and every one of us must be very familiar with him before we land in Chicago…” He guessed blandly as he started distributing to them highly detailed maps of Washington, showing clearly the routes where the innocent American soldier will take.  Also with the maps were clear picture of Captain Macdonald.  The photos were from United States army identification card, possibly taken by the scorpion agents of Vladin Chosef who are already working as FBI, CIA or the American Navy commandoes.  Vladin using his opulence had employed big terrorist influence mostly in U.S.A.  Some of his agents innocently, pretending to be faithful Americans but while were worst enemies of the American Federal Government, were in his camp.  These Russian viruses had already thwarted American’s activities abroad, mostly in Cuba, Iraq, Somalia, Sudan, Liberia and now Afghanistan.  The American citizens pay dearly to maintain the world peace and to curtail poverty, but much of these money lands in the hand of Vladin Chosef. 

 

His network looks so simple on the surface but it has a lot of complications all around it to an instant even Mr. Vladin himself don’t understand it whole.  It is a religious government headed by a supreme king.  A king out to rule the world from the most corrupt, dangerous, raucous conjured schemes onto the earthly beings.  His activities were felt much in Asia and again it succeeded in Somali but failed badly in the most democratic country on the world, India.

 

Colonel Vladin Chosef realm roots were growing steadily to all parts of the world irrigated by blood of the people of whom he claims to govern.

 

“This pictures I could like you…………to take them properly into your sharp minds.  However, you will notice of this figure must be handled immediately without delay, although communication must be fully confirmed by all of us, using our radio calls.  Your movements must be very swift and accurate.  No mistakes will cross your lines of proficient in the world of hijacking.  More information about our outrage will be carried out at canton”.  The vivacious, cordially words giggled from general Michael’s throat.

 

He stared at his commandoes, arms folded across his chest with a murderous look in his eyes.  He shrugged as if to tell them more, he turned around and sauntered back to his lonely chair.  His men had now relaxed, a feel of easiness was flowing through their nerves.

 

As from the map, it showed scores of escape routes out of U.S.A. and from the general’s professional capacity with a lot of proficiency, he had exposed them as he had found them from the map.  His action will be done with full of fury ruthlessly but without killing so many victims on the scene.  This operation will reduce drastically the killing of those who will deep them open towards their risks.  All these, the general had thought of them smartly.  He will never waver in his opposition to the awkward betrayers liars and proselytizers of wrath who might be looking for fortunes to satisfy their poverty.  No escape routes will be too important to prevent his attention, the frenzied creature.  God – bars will buy much freedom entangled with knowledge as far as his wits is concerned.  For maximum security he will involve fewer personnel in U.S.A. for the better of the siege.  He will react so quickly, pluck his victim and move out of U.S.A.  the operation cyclone bashed the bad tempered general’s mind so much to a point of feeling headache.  He took some strong painkillers so square all this.

 

Over there, the soldiers relaxed as their general was wrestling with his fazing.  Some of them could be seen wading through their trance, as the aircraft was moving with a high – speed swimming through the sky like a flying dragon going to the peaceful world to feed itself.  All men were held in a tranquil state expecting miracles to happen, this was not their first adventure for they had done several hijacking moves too hard and highly guarded citizens of U.S.A. and Israel, capturing them, torturing them to reveal the technology of their former states.  Seven moths back, they had hijacked two medical scientists from Israel whom they thrashed until they agreed to work with them, to synthesis the mosquitoes genetically to carry HIV viruses and transit them to the innocent people.  After this successful technology under genetic engineering, these insects would be flown to America and Africa, according to Severodvinska, if this genetic synthesis would go through, much of the world economy and its population would reduce drastically making him to expand his evil activities more efficient.  When these thoughts flashed through the general’s evil mind, he tried to look penitent, but no way, he would not suppress the smile that danced permanently across his edged of his broad mouth.  He was a total murderer, all that atrocious, read to cleanse the human race.  Mr. Chosef Vladin has tried so much to do away with mankind, mostly he hates the American, Britons and Israel with no good reason.

 

But will he really succeed with all that?  God knows!

 

The general bowed his wicked head as if he was praying.  Was he really praying to the Almighty God?  Or he was praying to the evil Lucifer who already so heathen?

 

Mr. Vladin had trained these pugnacious men who were really bright from their austerity of Russian to the evil world of Severodvinska.  For Michael Dirochev, he had treated him to be crazier to humans than Vladin himself, having excessive enthusiasm in mass slaughter, of the airflot’s night flight from Vancouver to Chicago, U.S.A., staring through the canopy as a statue with the turbo-prop engine warming his buttocks.  His eyes were well fixed there somebody from far would think he was watching the titanic film where Jack was telling her sweetheart to make a wish.  Yes a wish of death.  Madness of all evils engulfed totally this general and his mind was swathed all dark.

 

General Michael gazed at his wristwatch, it was exactly one forty-five nighttime, thirty more minutes to Chicago.  He relaxed making himself more comfortable looking wonderful like a truant cowboy who is chasing a wild horse in the Sahara Desert.  His eyes were red shot, sharp and clear that were held by the strong face that seemed to belong above other apparel of the terrorists.  The soldier pulled his muscled arms over his damned head, intertwined.  He left his body sag, loose and rolled his neck back trying to ease the tension, facing it like a total man.

 

The shuttle-flight was plodding on and on chastising the clouds as it reduced the altitude drastically towards their private airstrip.  The weather was low, cloudy, increasing humidity as they descended down, a possibility of a coming storm, heavy rain tomorrow.

 

The general of the damned commandos eyes were blood shot for lack of sleep fro the last seven days, with a lot of puzzling working through his mad brain.  The stubble of his gorilla like beards pronounced making him to look more senile.

 

Again he gazed at his automatic wristwatch, on its lower part it coiled a remote time-bomb switcher.  The watch was ticking slowly to swat a two-morning hour, the secondhand kept prodding to clang the hour.  It made it as it pounded the hour and the alarm, which he had set, burst out.

 

“Comrade…we are landing tighten your belt” the loud speaker of the shuttle-flight announced.    Suddenly, not aware where they were, jumped from their somnolence with their hands fumbled for the safety belts as if it was an emergency.  Some started dazing, their eyes growing white-hot, totally compelled by fear.  The general who had not got any sleep turned over his seat, his eyes darting about the chamber of the airflot searching for a sleepy laze commando.  None was found guilty, all were ready for the action and alert as forever.

 

The general turned to his normal position.  Some commandoes looked scared and their eyes kept darting, about none spoke to each other.  They were gleaming with glowing faces, behaving like sinners whom the Lord had declared to be unfit for the heavenly kingdom.

 

‘Now my men we have arrived out destination.  I could like you to behave bravely.  Nothing will cook up for I am with you here.  Today we will make sure we have captured the idiot and take him with his family home.  Feel relaxed and contented”.  He said pleasantly although looking vague.  The plane released its wheels ready to land, the airstrip was lighten with green lights, the haze making the lights to be more or less dim.  There was a big ring crushing noise as the plane’s wheels were scratching the rough airstrip, eventually at long end, it stopped turning its body towards where it came from.

 

Immediately, as it stopped, three motors, Lincoln hi, Jaguar x-type and folks wagon grimed outside towards where the flight stood.

 

Three gentlemen stalwartly build, wearing black suits demeanor kingly, goggled with dark glasses popped out of their motors, holding their cellular phones next to their damned ears with all their right hands slipped into their long dovetailed raincoat pockets.  They were representable to recognize.  The men who had been waiting for the ruffians to arrive.  All of them were Russians, the tall one was the general’s brother.

 

“Are you ready for every move comrades?  Our incursion starts from here, we are now in U.S.A.  We are going to take the shortest time ever…” Queried the general of the scorpion commandoes, pausing a little, considered and added on along expelled breath.  “We are moving out now!”  The voice turned more commanding imbued with the hatred of the Americans.

 

The airflot’s door opened.  The general led his men towards the stairs.  At the entrance, his head turned up with soothing eyes darting about.  The cold warm Chicago breeze blew across his face making him to be more alive.  He whisked his face with his palm and abruptly started stepping down the aircraft stairs.  His heavy steps made the used muscles to click.  With his pouncing gait, his army black boots crushed the ground with a sound, taking two steps away from the aircraft.  He stood there facing the three gentlemen dumbfounded with his eyes fixed at them like an eagle, which had sported a mole in a muddled state.  Followed by his soldiers, they all made up a semicircle with their arms intertwined across their breasts.

 

The hushed state consumed more than seventy seconds, when Dirochev’s brother swirled forward.  “You have landed safely………..hope also safe to your men.  Everything is okay.  No any hesitation.  You move in without any shit, brother”.  The tall, huge boned-muscled brothers eventually landed in the horizon of peace with their arms enfolded.

 

“Here in America, we are fine and our business network is performing well.  We are planning to expand these businesses to South Africa as proposes by Mr. Vldain.  Anyway since we heard the death of Vladin’s brother, we had been expecting you soon, up to last evening when Vladin phoned.  Anyway welcome to Chicago”.  Michael’s brother said absently as he directed them to the restaurant.  The jungle men followed them.  With them, they carried their luggage’s, although heavy mostly deeply dismantled weapons.  They were not tourists but dangerous butchers, their smell could be whiffed as no conversation was waving in between.  The restaurant gasped these generations of termination settling them onto the sits.

 

Current of tension rose nearly resulting to quarrel when the general’s brother proposed for more enforcement to the blockade to direct them to Washington in this hilarious conversation of which the general opposed.  At last, the two men agreed to add one man and woman to camp.  As the commotion was seething, butlers brought black coffee with some saucer of saccharine while the other commandoes were served with coffee, eggs and some rolls.

 

Even these waiters were in the records of Vladin.  They all knew who those visitors were, without being told.  It was all that crazy, men without a word.  Every breath was held at bay until those hot particles would go and go for ever, for they were life carriers and who knows their destines?  The restaurant’s doors, all were locked, security around the airstrip was tightened.  No any motion was expected within.  And if you were caught, the hell would justify your fate on the spot.  This was the time even the cruel goblin must escape to its far leagues, heaven or hell to hide and search for peace, the men really adamant and dangerous.

 

The valiant beings trudged toward the social hall, from the extreme end, the two added champions of evil followed them.  The three men, the general, the intelligent officer and the general’s brother hustled straight up to the dais.  When all had settled down, it took some silence as the three humans were wallowing some important matters.  It took a couple of minutes before Mr. Enocklev, the general’s brother stood.  He immediately summoned the attention of the whole hall.  Everyone in the hall caught his scorching eyes.  The crowd wondered what the hog held.  At the look, he seemed to have a very professional concept to be filtered by the intrepid creatures, the killer beasts who all seemed very ready and steady to commit evil.  He was going to give out information on how their besiege could go, but not and never the premeditated murder planned in the streets or the jungle gorillas but it lay entirely on this giant, most feared person by the strategist named Vladin.

 

Still Enocklev stood there, his machinery brain whirling selectively to where he will pick his points.  He gazed at the ceiling above him, eventually he gained his power of remembering.

 

“Dear comrades, honorable soldiers”. Again as somebody who has lost memory, become quiet, his eyes staring at a film projector which stood next to him…”We are going to study the pictures of Micky Macdonald and the entire map of Washington with some tips on how to go around with our operation.  These films, I am going to show you will expose the killer’s house and the entire family.  You must be very familiar with the pictures, which you will be shown.  You whatsoever will carry no mistakes of identity.  Be very keen to the point.  Before that I am going to introduce to you two more additional members.  By that I summoned the two soldiers to come here”.  The words sounded tame after his speech, moving a bit to give the coming imbecile children of the devil.  The lady stood first and her fellow.  American followed her to the flat form.

 

The commandoes were not interested with these new idiots for their minds were fixed at one mission, murdering whatsoever figure before them.  They were very sure for themselves and never believed on these new frogs.

 

She looked brave with her tall posture.  She wore long blonde hair which floppy round her ears…………very long.  As she stopped onto the dais, she tossed her head to wring the errant locks back in line confidently.  She felt herself also to belong in this group or above.  She was a pronounced killer who was working with FBI and was sell connected with American’s black panthers style of life.  She stood there facing the damned soldiers, gazing them to be inferior, useless and unconfirmed soldiers.  She was very wrong, misinformed.  She looked like a demon’s wife with a long and heavy soviet black cloak.  Ready for action and not sex looking at them with the wild cat’s eyes shrewdly.  Hellos fellow American, well build, looking bashful with rough moon face.  His long hair fell over his witch eyes, black and sharp.  The two figures stood together as one to be introduced to the impious squad the general his brother moved next to the microphone.  His glare meeting the audience in half querying amid appraising way.

 

“These two people you see here, they have a very good knowledge of the victim we are pursuing.  I would like you to be very contented with them fully.  No any mistake to take cause, for they have been working with us here for a long time.  She is working with FBT and she is the one who gave us much information about this cowboy we in quest of.  Please, I could assure you that she would not let you down in any manner.  Just call her Miss Dinah from the Northern City of Texas”.  He stopped clucking with a lot of odds being felt between the two American enemies.  With a very professional concept, he started introducing this young man, whom all this time locked his eyes on the floor.

 

“And this Mr. Kevid, as you see him, he is a professional killer.  Still working with CIA and he has been working with Interpol for six years until he was taken by the CIA department.  He knows very well all the routes around the entire U.S.A.  And he is well connected to the white house.  Yes our representative so some tender private affairs in the house of common, UK…Thanks.  You will know much about them later”.  He twittered very clear.  Within seventeen minutes, he had finished with them.  “You can move out and try to mix with them…they are you and smart commandos.  I wish you the best luck in your mission”.  He whispered to them as he directed them with his gesture left hand.

 

They tottered off the dais, Miss Dinah on the front followed by this bashful urchin man, she fixed her sharp unforgivable killer’s eyes to the commandoes.  She was studying the, eventually concluding by her own way.  No soldier was interested with her, all they wanted is a field action and not the way a woman looks, anyway their obligation don’t lime with those of feminine.  They downplayed her prowess to nil.  At long last they psych disturbance diminished as they disappeared to their rear seats and immediately the atmosphere blossomed to its normal state.  House of quietness occupied the entire hall as the general’s brother adjusted the film projector.

 

Three! Two! One! Start.  The picture of Lieutenant Micky Macdonald appeared, big and very clear.  He was a inconspicuous tall, white skinned man, pale lip with broad wide wrinkled forehead, bush moustache, flowing side burns and a broad mouth.  His left hand was shown with stubby fingers, his eyes were almond-shaped.  Micky Macdonald was a sharp shooter, high tempered, uncompromising fanatic, a good runner, a trained boxer one he presented his state in the national tame, but performed poorly and above all, he is too dangerous to handle.  All this description was offered on screen after the pictures.  His field army performance was shown.  His ranks in the army and contacts, both postal numbers and army code numbers.  Some commandoes wrote down these information while others never wasted their energy on this silly moron, all they wanted is to ostracize the victim all alive.

 

His house came into picture, structural dimensions showing his bedroom, dine room, toilets, kitchen, store and other two upstairs rooms with attics within them, his two car’s registration numbers and the model, 01 BMW X54.41 and Volkswagen jetty wagon, plus his BMW motorbike were also shown.  The general was all that attentive taking every message and screwing it firmly into his devilish brain.

 

After Micky Macdonald’s pictures, his wife appeared tall and blonde lady of about twenty seven years, attractive with a rounded figure, exquisite camellia skin very attractive and shine, liquidly triumphant which turned in a dull form, dark long hair which curled preciously at its end, lean and slim.  No much detail was given, only the possibility to use her husband’s Volkswagen jetta wagon to collect him.  Next on the screen, his son appeared, his description was nearly the same like his father, only he was seventeen years and a medical student at St. Hanna Medical College.  By now, he was at home.  At last, the picture of captain Macdonald’s sister appeared only giving out her name and her marital status.  That marked the end of identification of their prey.

 

Mr. Enockler held the air as if to say something, but instead, he sighed blissfully.  This notorious churlish ravenous camp kills with impunity, they go and select the peaceful generation leaving their arsenic to mutilate them all.   They paralyze families and leaves lovers crying forever.  Who sale besieges is never a big mistake to them.  It marks their play perfectly and talon-fly it with bold move, not caring what will follow and forget it immediately. Killer who has made mankind to be chained in an awful, scaring life.  No freedom which mankind had been questing for his entire life.  Crazy world, all that mad.  Fear loomed freely within the blood, fear that is totally held in between the soul, fear inflicted by man, yes fear which had made man to ran and ran never turning back.

 

“We will gather more information on hijacking technique on how to track him up to his house.  We will also use complicated machineries already imported from Russia.  We will look for he best escape route out of this country.  A canton, if possible will be our last rendezvous point within our unity”.  He hammered the message deep into their minds, without wasting single information.  The intrepid men were very ready for the action.  Enocklev gazed at them strangely and moved back to his chair with careful calculated eyes.

 

The game signal was over and now it was left for the general to direct them off the field.  Steadily like some of the notorious film actors, he stood, jerked his dazed head, now facing the congress bodily.  He glared at them frighteningly for more than five minutes without a word, he gave a salute which dismissed them.  The congress broke and fluttered out, as usual the general and his brother pioneering them.  Their heavy pounding steps could be felt across the restaurant.  This was a deadly punishment on a conventional society, what type of justice is done when a soldier kills another soldier in a decreed war.  Why pursuing an innocent soldier and his entire for unjustified cause.  All are innocent.

 

As they entered into their vehicles, every soldier was given strong and powerful tablets to freshen their minds and their muscles.  Mr. Michael Dirochev sat at his rear seat of the 01 ford explore sport trace.  He slammed the doomed and fixed his eyes forward.  He felt tired for the whole week he had been behind schedule, exhausted, and now he had a big crux ahead.  The motors rounded a final curve from the airstrip towards the highway speedily heading through Toledo, Cleveland to Canton.

 

“This man and his family will be cobbled and flown a life straining to Severodivinska for torture.  Let us hope his star will not direct them away from our torch and he will try to behave well.  This time around, we will try not to kill many people, would be alert these FBI maniacs to fly to our direction……………..I will go along, brother to track our prey from Pentagon and you to remain at Washington, for if anything goes wrong, you will manage the remaining squid it is badly distorted, caused by the death of Vladin’s brother, I don’t want to lose you in these scummy outrages.  Remain at that place”.  Michael Dirochev said equably although his mind seemed to be petulant and white blank.  His fingers shoved through his shaggy hair and released a long forceful breath making him to relax a bit and blurted.

 

“These commandoes.  I trust their force and war maneuver but I fear that they might overuse their wrath here.  These useless American police will rush in as if the whole American police had been hijacked towards the center of operation and swat our agenda.  If  we make any slite mistake, we will not force any on line, but we let it flow towards its center point”, he nodded with his head, very sure of what will happen if they force in.

 

“You are right, these men of ours must be directed”.  Enocklev chuckled, turned and faced the Army intelligent officer, who all this time kept quiet, whisking his automatic modern short gun.  Realizing Enocklev was glaring at him, he clamored.

 

“I know how I can direct them.  We have trained highly how to move on the highways and in big cities without causing much damage.  We don’t have much fear in these operations, Sir.  We will snatch our prey and go with it without any slight detection.  Lets move and see, no any cause of alarm”.  He said reasonably, busy cleaning his gun putting it next to where he sat, he smothered his moustache lining it down along his broad mount, plucking the walkie-talkie from his breast pocket.

 

“Attention! Attention! Comrade.  Davids speaking.  Take no any apparent action unless confirmed by me or our general of the commandoes.  Clear!………” his voice was taken in without any mistake.  The two motors boomed from behind them ceiling the commandoes only and one driven by Miss Davina, each with a distance of three hundred yards.

 

The motors, buzzing with one seventy kilometers per hour towards Toledo when the mobile police some few kilometers from Toledo stopped them, immediately the alarm rang.

 

Their vehicle eased off.  Nearly immediately, a Volkswagen Eurovan driven by Miss Davinah fumed past them under very high speed.  The motor rolled through Toledo heading to Cleveland.

 

The motor whizzed towards the innocent family.  None can stop them.  They have bought man for blood.  Senseless activities moving about, dangerous viruses now on motion towards captain Macdonald’s family.  For Michael Diochev the was confused, delirious with tortured minds, eager to see his operation to go through.  He talks seldom and often glancing at his diamond watch.

 

He doesn’t want to lose his prey; he must get it to satisfy his soul.  Within few hours they will take a shuttle flight to Washington.

 

“We are growing late comrade.  Can you move with a high speed?”  He commanded the driver harshly.  The vehicle picked up like a rocket, by passing the heavy commercial vehicles like shit.  The morning was approaching slowly and the darkness was disappearing to the far west.  A secret sorrow had now consumed them all.  The generation who cherished the darkness were cobbled by the coming light.

 

“Already we have some four taxes which you will use to collect the maniac.  Are also the ones, which you will travel with at Washington to pentagon.  Already we have forged documents to satisfy their traffic unsteady laws … you will act as chauffeur men.  The taxes are fitted with modern tracking machines.  These will make you not to lose him at whatever routes they will take.  Also immediately after the on slaughter, an helicopter will take you to Chicago, where all of you will fly off to Russia none stop, “Enockler; Diochev’s brother said gravely to his brother and the intelligent officer.

 

“Your arrangements are perfect, otherwise you have made the operation to be more simpler and carrying a lot of security of which we were contrary.  From Washington you monitor our movements by the survey satellite that is mouthed at complex factory.  Yesterday I was informed from there, the machine can be able to monitor over seven hundred miles from where it is without interfering with outside signals…very high frequency.  If incase you detect anything wrong, you can act carefully.  For us, homicide is possible not to jeopardize our movement.” Grumbled the general, looking at his brother weirdly.

 

This strategists called the general, more evil than Hitler, Che Guevan, and stokely carmichal, Marx and Lenin, name them all those who had orchestrated mankind.  These are who had made evil with the wretch of our planet.  He was dead scared, only shining in the dark of the window tinted 01 BMW explorer sport trac, firing to its destination like a glow-worm. Sour tears can be seen within his eyes.  Blood flow within his nerves was high, his mind was empty-blank with no sense of direction.  He was blaming himself for the dead of Vladin’s brother and several carrions in bunkers mostly in the Tora Bora region of Jalalabad, Afghanistan.  That was the time he read a sign of death on himself.  A tortured soldier held like a cargo in a cyclone storm of the sea, without direction, only waiting patiently to sink.  General Michael Djocheu was held under a muse, the other men relaxed without watching him.

 

With every professional concept, Mr. Davids, the intelligent officer, took out his walkie-talkie and phoned to the commandos on the highway speeding to Washington.

 

“Select four of you amongst yourself, who can speak American English well to be drivers of the taxis which we will use to collect our man of the operation.  However will take the driving must be very aware of the routes around Washington.  Any good changes, you will be informed immediately.  We are now approaching canton, where you will have a break of only thirty minutes. Spluttered the intelligent officer nervously, switching off the wireless.

 

Michael Diocheu gyrated, facing his brother.  There was no tress of any psychological or physical weakness in him.  A strong soldier who has survived cruel circumstances.  He can even work for more four days without a trance, soldier to admire.

 

“Tell me more about these two people you have brought.  I do like to know much of their background and their field operation, where they had maneuvered.”  General Michael Diochei chuckled, looking more energetic and more encouraging.

 

“As to accuracy, yes at least you should know who are these you are working with.  First this woman, I have worked with her over ten years here in America.  Already she had been paid above the other because she is no hustler or an amateur in sides of hijacking.  She is a killer.  A good shooter and a sprinter in action.  A good muscle, art exploiter.  For several times we have flown together abroad, never!  Let me down.  She know on how to operate several machines, a good pilot and she has good skill in fighting and in sides of computer technology.  As by now, she can operate any modern computer.  She is an articulate female of distinction if given.  “Mr. Enockler said in a frigid tone. He tried to say more but he was caught by poor memory.  He continued “….. With this gentleman, had been my bodyguard when mostly I travel to Europe or South American countries, mostly Chile or Cuba.  The man has dealt with so many deals of our own until I come to trust him, I don’t know…. He was the man who shot the former vice-president of Spain.  He is an excellent high thinker.  A quick calculator when you are in turmoil.  I could like you to assign him as a driver who will act as a taxi man to collect the mother fucker from their headquarter “He felt that he had told him enough.  He was not happy when he realized he had betrayed his self-guards.  He glared at him as he was struggling with the information already offered.

 

“I thought they are those chaps who are after money. Now I can admire them mostly this woman, although I don’t tolerate women within my limits.  I propose our operation to be carried out late or mid midnight when the traffic jam is low, so that if anything goes boggy, we will escape easily using the helicopter”

 

“Yap! That is very confidential, late hour siege is more secure than daytime.  Also we will give this American man to enjoy his homecoming before we snatch him from his wife.  Possibly a dealt line might appear before him.  Let us hope he will cooperate as required.  “Come up the voice very contented and musical.

 

The foe’s mind was whirling searching for many possible routes and the best handling movements to this American man.  At all, they were not comfortable until they have got hold of him in whatever cost.

 

As they entered Canton, the morning welcomed them with a bright day.  The general gained his normal posture, taking a tiny cellular phone from his breast pocket, whisking his rough face.  Squeezing his eyes with his hankie until they turned red.  He glanced around the car, scowling as if he had been chained in a chasm of torture.  He clutched the phone.

 

“…My men, it is five minute to Canton.  I know you are brave enough to endure any trouble.  Never fail me as you have never failed me…” the message from the general boomed in every whirling car and they can hear him loud and clear.  He continued, “…This man must be terminated if possible and today before sunshine, by you.  “He said and frowned replacing the phone unaware it fell down and it jarred the bell.  His brother was quick picking it, and replaced it.

 

Michael Diochev, although trying to look valiantly strong, he was weak and controlled by a horizon slight headache.  But he is a character who always shows braveness until dead can be announced.  He swallowed more painkillers in one shot.  The other men felt the mental torture the general was wading through.  His brother gazed at him with sympathy, but nothing would be done.  They are all hard nuts, the game must continue.

 

“This assassins for hire are not going to be allowed to have so much influence in this game.  You must inform them to follow our rules properly.  We don’t want to make unnecessary mistakes.”

 

“You know brother, one doesn’t give out money to a woman or a man who tries to orchestrate our elimination, while he or she acts within the operation.  Let us hope this assassin for hire will work with us accordingly.  Again we don’t want to fail because of either a woman or a man.  “The message sounded tame and bitter to his brother, Michael Diochev, after his speech.

 

It seems there was some misunderstanding between these two brothers.  For one the general hate women totally.  This will be the first time a female is in cooperated within his muscle operation horizon playing a central role.  He glared at his brother, shrewdly with steel, black eyes very smoldering and crimson-sharp.  His young brother was aware of the principle that governed Michael Diochev.

 

“Yes brother, I can’t and I will never betray you, I really trust this woman.  And also she will help us on the advanced technology of computer science.  Which is more advanced here, America.  Please just spare her life for the sake of the operation.” He requested him solemnly because he knew he might finish both the two assassins for hire within no time.  He was very aware that they might need them somewhere and today.  As they turned a sharp corner heading to Canton, a big signpost read, “WELCOME TO CANTON A QUIET CITY.”  Everybody read the words making their blood flow to increase. They used the private backstreet to their complex iron factory.

 

Without any consolidation; the general popped from his car, followed by his brother and the intelligent officer; Davids whose walkie-talkie crumpled over his damned ear.

 

“Everybody to report to the underground factory hall immediately.”  The general clearing the sleepy from his throat growled to his commandos and every car announced the message clear.  The hotel management team stood rigid along the lounge watching as the monster strode into the factory.

 

“High pleasure to see you, Michael.  You are highly welcomed sir.  We move straight to the refectory.”  The manager of the iron factory said, startled at the expression on their face, he moved aside for them to pass.  The hard rocks never replied for this invitation, instead they by passed them straight heading to where they were expected.  The management team and the factory guard went berserk for the way the commandos were acting.  The men sailed through the lounge towards the underground hall.  The management team followed them silently.  From beyond the entire group were flowing with their swooping motion.  Bodyguards were kept at every corner, well armed.  The management teams were entirely Russians and some intelligent officers from Egypt and Saudi Arabia.

 

The great corridor was flooded with a red carpet that was laid for their coming.  Down the stairs the raucous general, turned around beckoning the factory director.  The director disengaged himself swiftly from behind total hashed and treated his way through the stalwart commandos to the front where the general waited looking vague, the director stood like a pupil before his master.  The general fixed his smoldering eyes at him for some seconds.

 

“I hope you have arranged everything ready.  Bring every weapon, which I informed you yesterday.  Also with..”  He gazed at his wristwatch: within only twenty minutes, hire four taxis and with driving licenses to be computerized using the names, which you will be given… Arrange that within the time I have given you, Okay?”  The voice has lost its clarity and sounded dry.  Mr. Davids, came back with the names of the chauffeurs who will use the taxis.  The list was offered to the director of the factory to manipulate the driving licenses as the squad was flitting towards the social hall.  The director nodded as he receipt the list with his face showing excitement.  As the men were flowing towards the hall, the director slowed down and informed his deputy to carry out the operation within fifteen minutes and inform them immediately his founding in the hall.

 

Their swift motion made the cold breeze blow their soviet coats to propel like flying dark angles within the doomed world.  They were propelling at a high speed as if the second minute they will be smoldered to death.  The perfect killers now were moving for the last conference where they will be fired to kidnap, torture and kill.  Approaching a huge iron door, which was guarded by seven well-armed men. Their sophisticated most modern gun held at shooting angle within the most garished corridor within this ironmonger factory.  The crazy general was happy of that as he saluted them.  The men responded immediately by standing attention, their gun muzzles facing the ceiling.  The iron door slowly started being consumed by the factory walls until the whole unity was swallowed.  The officers without delay hustled into the hall.

 

The social hall was free from excitement, anxiety or motion.  Once all inside the door snapped shat behind them.  Inside handful men were watching a video cinema portraying the most ghastly violence that no human being can dare to watch.  On the screen there was mass killing, inhuman torture and child abuse.  The video was switched off as the gentlemen of evil entered.  Every seat had a secret number for each member.  The men, accompanied with Miss Dinah moved in and sat without any motion.  The general swirled, engulfed with a stone face towards his centre seat.  His spirit and power was floating to everybody’s psyche.  The six-generation sat at the podium, silently.  All black, all evil.

 

The chief intelligence officer slung to the general and bent next to his left ears, making the general to lean closer.  Their scowling faces can soliloquize their discussion.  The intelligent officer, Mr. Davids wore a long hair, which summed to be ever done for long.  His face badly scorched by sunshine making it to be rough and stunningly ugly.  His face held a carrot like nose, long and strange with deep white eyes all that made him to duplicate the notorious king of Mexican gangsters.  The auditorium was smeared with wrong members; their breath was of fire.  These underdogs of the goblin were now commencing their intrigue to jump off on action.  The men on the power line.

 

Every motion was electricity monitored by the Russian imp, Mr. Vladin, from his palace in Severodvinska.  Every movement was under control of him alone.  This intrigue was so complex and raucous only because one of them had been killed at the war field and was the brother of the president of the United Trade Union whose network extended all over the world.

 

The chief intelligent officer whose base was also contained in Canton; the headquarter of foreign states, tramped away from the general to the microphone to put on their incursion on the spotlight.  Moving from where the six sat, tattered around the semi-circular red covered long table to the microphone.  At his left hand he held a white covered file, on its cover a huge dragon skull of their union was drawn in gold.  He spread the file on the stand, turning some pages, dazed, eventually resting at a middle page.  With is right thumb, he flowed it down the page, at the third line from the bottom, and he followed the line reading it across.  Taking a fountain pen, he marked the line.  He jerked his head like a cobra that had been stung on its tail.  His white eyes glared at the audience.  Surveying it all around, clearing his throat.

 

“My dear comrades, we have reached nearly the final stage of our goal.  And now we are facing a mammoth task ahead of us.  We are going to divide you into three zones of incursion.  In every squad our machines will govern you.  Our general of the entire army Mr. Michael Diochev will control us.  The satellite will monitor your movement whenever you will be by Mr. Enockler.  Alarm systems will be stationed from this place to every vehicle.  With all these we hope to get this animal on a bed-rock.”  The whole hall was keen;, taking the message and listened incredulously.  He continued directing and molding the action carefully as they observed it within their thoughts up to the home of their prey.

 

“… in every car you will get our kalashnikov rifles mounted with binoculars in the dashboard compartment, a killing knife, Russian made hand grenades and air masks.  All in addition the house of this chubby being will be sprayed with petrol.  The whole apartment should be destroyed by fire.  All this should be done in order to betray our power…” He growled and left the sparks to penetrate to every human mind within the hall.

 

He directed his guileless dry clear eyes towards the audience.  His glance was terrible, even the strong rock-hearts were trembling for mercy, but these men were never scared and now used, they swallowed every message and glared without making a mistake.

 

The gentleman regained his senses and continued with his master plan “… our general will jostle along with a maximum of six super spider,(the super spiders are the commander of the highest rank at the dragon anarchy)….at  three hour of this morning to Washington, two commandos will move out to monitor the four chauffeurs.  Also with the general, the four taxi men will fly out using the shuttle flight to Washington to trail this man up to his house.  Then the destruction will commence at mid night.  Every soldier will follow the rules of termination; never forget this, the cops will be handled very carefully for they tend to incline to every nasty alarm.  When their own bastard had been killed.  But if their noses would be whiffing towards our operations they will be silenced without influencing the whole police unit.”  With his professional safe wavelength tone, he continued “…our valiant men, you will be given thirty more minutes to prepare at the Presidential wing immediately after we have finished from here.  You will be issued duty identification cards.  Now you can allow me to welcome our general, Mr. Michael Diochev for more information “the American foe said pleasantly, fetching his file which he never used, clutching it as an academician and trampled towards his chair.

 

The general took good time to stand.  Gaining the required momentum he stood.  At first he examined his fellow men of six as if he was not satisfied with them.  None gazed at him for nearly forty seconds glaring.  He carried his weak, trance body ceiling a highly powered whirring brain.  The whole congress as if they had been in a pandemonium, made a slide move of being alert.  This bloody impious moron behaved as if he was selecting unmentioned words to deliver.  He raised his dumb head tossing his long hair back with his left hand and he smeared the lock backwards.

 

“Comrades, I know you have been given enough for tonight’s siege.  It actually needs a lot of wits and not power. Everyone will govern intelligent thinking.  If you have anything important, you can mention it here or incase you notice something strange you phone to us.  Everybody will be informed of the progress to the time we get hold of him.  A spot where the helicopter will land had been marked.  At the victim’s house, we will use ultra speed of the wise white crazy angels of the arch king in the underworld.  And I once warn you that whoever will make any small mistake will taste the heated cable.  Wherever you will be assigned to, you must carry out your contract up to the dot.  Everybody will be given an automatic revolver as an added security.  Radio calls should reach me instantly; with no obstruction and without a lose of a microsecond.  Once again I repeat if any of you has ways to elude the bureau’s surveillance, I request him to step forward and inform us.  I hope all of you; you are expandable towards expanding our movement and our government.  And none… I reap none can stand to stop us from capturing this son of a bitch!  Thus our move can’t be swatted by anyone on this evil planet.  Shortly after a break of thirty minutes you will gather here to be issued with the necessary.  You will be directed where to start from by the intelligent officer.  I wish you a nice breakfast.  Take care comrades” His words were sagacious and scaring.  A thick blanket of strong indignation by now darkened the whole community.  He flattered off the dais after the speech and was followed by his men.

 

From Russia Mr. Chosef Vladin made a call from his palace to the general as they were marching out of the social hall.  The six men slowed down, from behind the pirates were on to their apartments held their trample at a distance not a ware why the other all men stood.  Taking the cellular phone to his detective ear.

 

“Hallo! Is that Mr. Diochev?”  The tone was more commanding and hungry for the immediate reply. “Yes sir.  It is I talking.” After being confirmed by Mr. Michael Diocheu Vladin amended the voice truculently.

 

“Can you give me on how far you have gone with the operation and where are you phoning from, by now?”  Yes Sir, we are now in Canton, since we left severodvinska we haven’t got any oracle on the way, every plan is germinating as our expectation.  For now we are having a break of about thirty minutes before we fly to Washington at four morning hour, Washington time.  Already we have added two more persons to our battalion to pioneer us to the killer’s house.  Ins short we don’t have any problem by now.  I will phone to you within every thirty minutes to inform you on how the bombardment is progressing.. Thanks Sir.”  He muttered, still holding the phone onto his left ear.  He can hear the breathe of this evil fanatic; Mr Vladin through the phone.  “Do you know much about the urchins you have chosen out of the streets or you have just collected somebody to dumb my movement as you dumped my brother?” queried Vladin through the space.  “No sir.  I have got enough evidence concerning them and I am going to test their spirit with one hour from now.  Have more details later…”  Before inhaling the last breath, the waves were cut.  He put off his cellular phone, handing it to his deputy.

 

The cluster broke, the six men hasted to their private room, led by the general.  He wrenched the door open and their flopped into the room dumbfoundly.  The other commandos were taken to their proposed side; they pranced to their sits where they were served with some saucer of saccharine and black coffee.  The decreed pirates of Vladin took their breakfast like college students who have been introduced to school.  None spoke to each other, apart from some slight muttering between Miss Dinah and her comrade Mr. Kevid. The two were in a wild and strange world; they can notice some unwelcoming glances from the other comrades who seem not to be comfortable with them.  Already highly paid, they were ever ready for any action, for death it doesn’t matter.  The two newcomers found themselves far away from home.

 

At the safety private wing, the general sent a message for his most skilful fighter to come to his office.  “As our tradition we are going to list the spirit of these new comrades.  For I know, you are skilful on how to test them.  First you start with this lady, Miss Dinah and try to knock her harder to see if she can hold your fist, and what will be her reaction.  Also we will learn how her fellow CIA man will react towards you.  Okay, move out; don’t let our experienced muscle art to spill and if so you will face your death sentence today. “ The words were sledged deep without mercy.  Was he looking for ways of eliminating him?  When the message was released to this Spiderman, he was very confident of finishing this woman.  A quail smile spread across his face and varnished with microseconds.

 

“I will kill her,” the thought of murdering this lady dirtied his mind as he twirled off towards the dine hall where Miss Dinah and her fellow terrorists were busy cross matching their breakfast.

 

The general, with his selected six, convened in the manager office to summarize their strategy conveniently, quaffing red vodka with half filled glasses – he was tarred with a brush of blood from his several past victims.  He doesn’t stay long without getting the presence of a luscious blood and none knew whether his potent spirits were governed by the demon’s blood.  Again he was looking forward to squeeze somebody’s life out of its body and none knows who will donate first.  But according to his thinking, somebody will disappear from this earth before their net is thrown to their foe.  Always thirst for blood and never satisfied.  He madly loves this bloodletting style of entertainment.  This savage creature’s life has been completely a roller coaster of bouts of rage, vengeance, foul languages and vicious attacks on the innocent people, he was a demon out to finish mankind in short he was all evil. 

 

Miss Dina was a smoker but she seldom smokes.  Turning to her side pocket, she took a lighter, cuddling herself as if she was at an open windy space, she lighted her Embassy cigarette she drew in small and long puffs and flicked the ash nervously into the tumbler which she used to take the dry vodka.  At a distance somebody can notice that she was working out something through her mind.  Her face locked to the floor with one hand sandwiched between her thighs.  She seemed very relaxed, leaving her long legs freely open.  Over her shoulder she can smell the rum rising from a steam of blood.  As the super spider man come into the dine room, she sensed some weird tension blossoming in between her and the man.  The man moved to his fellow commandos, gathering around him gabbling.  She can notice some movements of their griming look although secretly directed towards her.  All these made her to seethe, danger was approaching in this hall but undetected by her fellow country-man.  She was smoking more distract fully as if the next minute cigarette smocking will be banned with a death sentence.  Her blood flow is high, turning yellow with a noticed sweat across her breasts.  Like a squall, the Spiderman impelled towards her.  The whole hall was vacuumed and every figure within, was a mirage.  Abruptly as somebody who had gained from a terrible stroke, Miss Dinah found the man about a half a meter away from her table.  She wondered on what had really happened within it is short time.

 

As he was approaching her, the other commandos stood up, very aware what would follow.  The stalwart soldier eventually landed his foot in front of her.  From behind and all around her, she can hear commotion progressing towards her center.  Raising her head to confirm what was going on, found the Spiderman exactly over her face, breathing like a bullock.  At her left hand, the cigarette was emitting a faint smoke of blessing for what is going to follow.  He glared at her, taking the cigarette within a flash of lightning out of her trembling fingers, he stubbed it off on the table.  This iron blood monger woman stood as if she had been injected by a powerful spring.

 

The men moved closer and made a ring around these two warring beasts.  Their breath can be heard from and within their space.  Their glance was disrupted to the general who had come in to witness the scratch.  The human perimeter broke as the general and his six men come in to fill the circle and strengthen it.  His muscular veined arms enfolded across his cobra like chest.  All these took a mere second as the fight was dropping onto the floor.

 

“We don’t smoke marijuana or snort. …here and no woman had ever done this before us, ever since.  You pimp, whore recruiter, Mafiosi female button, an heroin dealer, a crook woman who had made a dirty earning profits, ----I will mess up with your ugly face and your body now….”  Before the last word dropped, he threw a punch at her head and caught her squarely between her eyes.  This made her to stagger a bit, crushing the chair across the room.  The ring enlarged to make a bigger room for these devils to fight.  The self-proclaimed super spider threw chairs aside creating a good space to crunch her.  For the general he wished to have their blood stirred again.  Her fellow American watched in dismay he wanted to go ahead to assist her up but an instinct held him firm.  For Mr. Enockler, he was aware of her and he knew on how she could handle herself.  Suddenly she gained her strength whisking some blood that flew from her damaged nose with her thumb.  Her face was blanched, changing colors now behaving boisterous ready for war.  Clenching her fist, she observed her speed limit and made a move with one eyebrow moved like that of a cheetah.  She blew a cloud of smoke that she held since from the poured lips in his direction.  She spun to his left, her arm arching up, blandished, crushing down over the Russian’s eyebrow, and landing him down.  She hurtled forward to where this maniac lay.  As he was trying to see what has happened to him, she quickly jabbed her hard used fingers of her left hand into the super killer’s throat brushing his wind pipe, its clatter obscured the ears of the cheering-surrounding men.  He rose with power; his blandishing kick caught her across her breasts.  The kick pushed her at a distant.  She landing elect with her legs spread like a Chinese taekwondo fighter.  He twirled, facing her although very confused.  Miss Davina clutched her fists very tightly; some tiny veins can be seen intertwining across her fists.  She shrugged her shoulders with contempt, her lips raised.  She sprang high her legs spread, which landed squarely across his chest.  The arrogant kick pushed him hard to the general’s face.  The general responded by pushing back onto the floor.  She volleyed him with a horse kick that eventually landed him flat on the floor.

 

The spectators watched with dismay.  The bastard rose with the help of his weak, pain arms.  Whirling his blood washed head left to right, he faced his opponent with stars full in his head.  He can’t see clearly as blood had smeared across his evil face.  Again with a quick chap over his face, made him mad but it never landed him down.  Abruptly terrible blares come up from his dead throat.  In his left hand, he held a broken glass.  Which he volleyed to her face, but it never caught her, instead it shattered against the pine wall with a spate.  He propelled towards her, punching the palm of his left hand vigorously.

 

“I will powder your face with this…” He blatant, his cry being reflected with an echo throughout the chamber.

 

The miserable soldier reinforced his defeat by throwing his short gun, but the woman never gave him time to commit the evil.  She spun again knocking the gun down to the floor.  The defeated soldier glared with wonder as the gun went.  Taking his killer-knife limply in his left hand; it too was dropped to the floor.  He was left with nothing.  His face totally blushed with blood, but never to surrender as a super spider beyond recognition.  He tottered forward like a drunkard lazy man.  Looking as if he had been ran over by a steamroller carrying hundred tones of coal.  His face had gone pale and his nostrils dearly damaged and pinched in.  He stood there, staring at her defiantly through the trickling blood down her face without a word.  The iron lady of mercy responded by bunching him hard across his cheek, leaving his jaw muscle on one side of his face hotly twitching.  The stalwart fanatic landed down.  She witnessed as he went down as crimson blood spouted from his mouth.

 

The general never stood to witness more, he threw his automatic short gun, he pulled the trigger, the gun cracked once, releasing the metal.   A none mistakable bullet made discreet red hole through his head.  He was baptized death.

 

The old mangy blind dog went to justify his evil.  He lay there death, the big muscled Russian pimp was obviously dying as the deep red carpet was soaking up great quantities of his blood.  Another martyr of their own super spider made their belief of superiority to vanish far behind their knowledge of understanding.  Yes, actually he is dead as the band glanced in terror at this maniac commando who lay down motionless.  The general twirled off striding gingerly over the death floor towards the cabin entrance.  The other group followed him swaying away with their overcoats floating, their motion germinating to those female black angels following their queen who is going out to make war.

 

As their moved our Miss Dinah wallowed cross to the slain commando, buttoning his shirt.  She came cross to the tattoo, which made her to puzzle a lot.  She knew the tattoo. “This is the second time to see this, once I saw it in Rome when a senior minister was assassinated and the assassin was killed there, but no much detail since then had been made.”  She nodded and moved from the body slowly in a majestic way that foxes sniffed.

 

Along the lounge the whole group sopped when the general ceased from walking.  He turned round with a stone face searching the lady between the bands.  Miss Davinah saw them stopping, sensing that it will be her whom they were looking for; she tripped with weak steps towards them.  The squad made a space corridor between them to direct the general’s eyes for the person he wants.  Raising her head she was badly received by wild grazes of these underdogs of evil.  And at the far end the general stood like a retired prizefighter that had left keeping fit with a black diamond necklace over his broad shoulder.

 

“Run…I say run and see me in my office immediately.”  A heavy bass voice become throbbing angry a pleading disgust.  After throbbing his voice he granted and marched off.  A total mafia man.  No mistake can be got from his style of presentation of the mafia empire.  He was so scaring.

 

Within five seconds she reached them, breathing heavily.  She threaded through them towards the general and by now he had placed herself within the anarchy of vladin.

 

General l Michael Diochev led her to his private room.  She followed him steadily as the other men poured into the hall.  Miss Divinah who was used with this killing of the barbaric world for her own survival.  She tried to swallow this harrowing abomination back into the realm of nightmare where it will lay forever, and wait for others to be dumped there.  She shrugged her shoulders as if to force the thoughts away and far.  She a great fox it was her duty to succor a human soul.  Wonderful, when you kill nothing will stop you from killing again.  An urge of murdering continues drilling you forever.  You become carnage forever and nothing will safe you from the act.  The woman was always aware and she wished that she was  the one who finished the game of death.  A killer loves to taste blood to satisfy his soul.  And if not allowed she or he becomes more dangerous and more evil.  She will be looking for blood in all coasts.  Now she was looking forward to murder anybody on her way without mercy.

 

She was shivering as their transposed heavily towards the general’s cabin.  This was a cabin special for his operation whenever the soldier was in United States of America.  The cabin looked less like an office.  On the table there was a red flag and on the floor the nazi cross “SS” sign was clearly sawn.  Also the Vladin’s tattoo sign was well drawn on the red flag.  As they entered, the door closed automatic on their back.  The room was swallowed by the silence as the big swine moved around the room towards his leather red chair.  Miss Dinah was left there standing not knowing, whether to seat or stay standing as the general threw the drawer underneath his mahogany table.   With his a somnolent eye which had missed a sleep for long, twirled from the file that lay on the table and were thrown over her face.  Slowly she examined her down as she stood there.  She was looking more wild, unsettled, unsatisfied and reckless.  Sitter anger was boiling from within of what the man was doing.  Professional power and experience urged her to maintain.  She tugged off her black gloves forcefully from her hands and shoveled them into his side pocket to occupy the tortured mind of the staring sparks of this son of a bitch; Mr. Michael Diochev.

 

“Have a sit, madam,” the voice was weak with hush in between.  She pulled a chair, which was next to her.

 

“First I do apologize for what has happened to you.  I really admired your proficient muscle art.  Although I don’t know much about you, I might incorporate you in our union of peace from today.  But before that I would like you to be my personal bodyguard.”  From the general’s voice comes the creak like a dying senile king.  Silence followed as the lady’s thought whirled on how to respond.  She glanced at her open palm bashfully.

 

“Anyway already I am working with your brother in these underground activities.  He trusts me and I am not ready to betray him.  My country assigns me within this republic of USA that means I can’t leave my work to stick with you in Russia.”

 

“You will earn in advance… good dollars to push you for many years.  When I look at that I would see it to be a very good fortune.  For I have never come across a woman in action as today.  More so I congratulate you when you swung, flipping your body in a somersault way just above the tumbler, which the idiot threw, I used to do that when I was at your age.  In short you are from not our new member within the circles of justice.”  He persisted.

 

He had really been scared by the prowess of this woman and he found himself begging for her.  This yahoo can’t recall when he communicated with a female in a request form.  Definitely when he was young with his mummy in rogue times or his crazy elder sister, now deceased?  He was not sure, for today he had to do it for his own survival.  He also belongs to human race, for the creation tale must continue.  He locked his thoughts onto her.

 

“I can’t leave now or with you the way you want.  You must give me time to arrange for my departure to your country.  You will go alone; I will phone to Russia next week to inform you on my state about my position.  Yes I can say this game I garish it and I would like to have my own empire like this,” He voice was glum but the general’s spiritual power was beckoning her, away and far.

 

The dragon commandos don’t admit easily but they illuminate.  The general before this lady was behaving like a retired king, his face once youthful was pitted like a drying Sahara desert after an heavy storm with stretched puckers.

 

“I am very sorry to inform you that we thought we were the living souls but when Vladin’s brother was killed in Afghanistan it is when I realized that all of us are not immortal.  I recall vividly when he murmured some words, but I was very confused to get what he was saying, up to now the words are like a forgotten dream.  I have been quested by his haunting spirit.  I loved him and he was part of my life.  Now we are growing old, I am only waiting for some complex skills to sustain our realm.  I don’t want to lose what we have built for many years from dust, to go to somebody’s hands.  My life have not been wasted on a dullard; No! That is why I have decided to hand over our culture to somebody of our soul line.”  The evil queen got him right.  She changed like a demon from her senile look to a charming lady, her eyes dancing across the general’s face.  Evil for evil.

 

General Michael Diochev had got his fortune, which he had been searching for years.  For Dinah, she was not after money, no! She wanted to be an arch slaughter.  Always for blood.  She cocked an eyebrow nodding slowly to be swallowed by general Diochev; the butcher.  The thoughts of going out to kill captain Macdonald thwarted her for the assignment was full of blood.  The stupid Dinah never understood what the world had for, peace was not within her reach, she was a bad atrocious animal, useless, a betrayer, yea river of blood controlled her hypnotize powers. She gyrated her head around her shoulder, twisting it like a dancing cobra.

 

“I would take that job if all goes well but first I will request you one thing…” she gleamed at him with a witch’s look.  The general was stunned and moved his buttocks as if to sit properly on his leather chair.

 

“I guarantee you, the request and it can be done my dear.”  The words sounded wonderful when the words dropped.  Even the surrounding ghosts never believed what was hovering above the vladin family.  He was no longer the general who commanded the entire force.  He was a born again idiot, and a used up dog.

 

“… We kill Mr. Vladin and his entire family then quickly we take over the whole empire.  If you allow me that chance, I myself will skin that scum; vladin, alive and I will be with you forever!”  It was like a terrible shock, a bombshell on Mr. Michael Diochev’s ears. He didn’t believe what was going on.  His eyes started popping glistening like the eyes of a dying horse.  The words kicked him to hell.  Directing his eyes to the floor, he swatted his ears with his broad palms.  He didn’t want to hear more.  What will he do, already he had made a wish, a wish of all lives.  He took some seconds as he was calculating what he would do.  Eventually he said.

 

“I now issue a license for murder if that is what you want, go and kill him!...you know we have done much with him.  I, personally, I don’t want to be involved with that.”  Like a child he started sobbing.  She looked at him with envy.  His eyes were now red and his face had turned white.  Taking a folded soft-tissue paper, he whisked his sweat-smeared face.

 

“Anyway your intentions have drove me far to the far primitive corners of my Psyche.  All that I used to focus as black now is turning out to be on action.  And I can really feel them so deep inside me.  Okay! Let me call my personal doctor to attend your injuries before we setoff.  We have already consumed a lot of time here.  We will talk much later.”  He said in a hushed tone.  He was totally confused, drunkard by the snag since the death of Vladin’s brother.

 

“Please can-you-leave me alone, I know where I will get a doctor to attend me.  I don’t want your doctor to be near me by now.” Miss Dinah said.

 

The general faced her, looking with a highly placed personage.  “Okay, then are we moving to the hall?  My men are waiting for me.”  The propaganda arch chief asserted firmly.

 

Miss Dinah without a word, she bypassed him towards the door, she pounced at the threshold and nodded something and moved off.  He followed her like old couples who have lost hope of living any longer.  The sniper slammed the door behind them, locking the ghetto of the end.

 

At the hall everything was confirmed ready for the action.  The woman now the victor, moved slowly towards her fellow American man, who sat at the back chair.  She stood at her chair, gazing at it as if she was not sure of it, eventually she sat without giving any glance to the American fellow.  The general scurried straight to the dais, without being introduced.

 

“Comrades I apologize for the short-comings, hoping you are ready to move out swiftly.  From my confirmation the four taxi-cars already have been hired.  The only remaining project is to issue you with defense arms, which are very modern.  I now summon the intelligence officer to take on the exercise to issue you with the required armaments.  “The general articulated and for those who knew him well, were surprised by the way he gave out his speech, it no longer had it’s commanding tone.  Immediately he swung to his lonely chair.

 

The intelligence officer took off towards what he had been directed to do.  The commandos were divided into three strong operation squads just within the hall.

 

“The first two groups will be flown direct to Washington and the rest group you will travel by the road to be at Washington International casino by late afternoon.  All of you will be issued with all required items.”  The intelligent officer said.  Also with the deadly killer weapons, they were given American identification cards making them to be American forged citizens.  No error was played all were Americans citizens, making them to travel out peacefully without any detention from outside world.

 

For less than thirty minutes the terminators were ready to set off the hunt the orphaned American soldier, Michael Diocheu on the dais looked more composed he was now covered with beard-stubble cheek, rough face all controlled with a dry face.  He had no time to rest as the time was accumulating less to the operation.

 

The execution team was given the same phone numbers to make and untraceable phones were mounted to each individual.  All were completely armed.  The hour was confirmed when it came a phone from Russia to the iron factory complies to trade careful with the rush hour traffic in Washington which might interfere with their operation network. Men in the hall can be seen moving like ants, which have sported a foreign animal within their colonies.  The time, which they were given, was dropping to its dead line eventually the last particle will land to make the hour.

 

The shoulders were given code numbers and every message from them would be taken in by the taps at the activated electric scanners which will be controlled by Mr. Enockler at the Washington casino done by the agents who were working to make sure that assassination will sail smoothly without any tress of shit, very aware towards the impacts they might receive from the American force if they realize the lose of their soldier.

 

Abruptly like somebody who is possessed by cruel ghosts, the general scurried out of the hall followed by the entire battalion.  Along the corridor he bypassed the armed cuckoos, heading straight to the factory’s chopper.  Miss Dinah pranced up to get in pace wit him.  The general behaving as if he will carry out the operation alone, totally controlled by gut instinct that, he was always right, an instinct which he had cultured over hard times to the point where he relied on it implicitly.

 

The fly-engine ignited, as they progressed towards it.  On Michael Diaochev’s left, Miss Dinah who was not at ease with the cyclone air. Shaking her head carefully in a way not to disengage the disposition of her curls, not satisfied, she arranged it using both of her hands toping into the helicopter behind the general, smothering them into line.  All the zombies were swallowed into the chopper.

 

“Now comrades, as per our arrangement, everybody switch on to power line with maximum respect to our agenda.  Mr. Enockler, you manage the men on the ground the intelligent officers to maintain non-distortion of our siege.  Commandos on the ground you move out with the chief of staff swiftly towards Washington.  Energizer tablets to be used“ Through the microphone, the transmitters carried the instruction without any dawdle.  A well-trained soldier cocked an eyebrow with a thumb thrown wishing them the luckiest assassin art.  The complex iron factory vomited the waste germs ever exhausted.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

The sky was clear with some few clouds extorted across the firmament far apart.  The weather was chilly and winds at the far-end horizons some thick heavy cotton like clouds can be seen easily.  On the ground at the iron factory, a jeep Cherokee and a Volkswagen jetta wagon were being ignited.

 

Step by step the propeller thwarted the peaceful air mercilessly, crushing it with a downward pounce eventual when their space was enough it started floating on it the crushed air landed on the earth defeating it into horrible dust.  On the ground the remaining cuckoos led by Enockler, the general’s brother moved far aside watching the helicopter as it started floating up and up.  They moved to their vehicles inserting themselves into the two motors.  The motors turned around the factory back way swooping down the highway towards Washington.  The monsters were now released free.

 

As the helicopter vanished towards the east with a buzzing cry, the others  went back to monitor them through the satellite.  Suddenly the connection between the chopper to the computer satellite was cut off for more than two minutes leaving the factory engineers perplex making their noses to smell every wire, but later they sported the helicopter.

 

“You can allow us to disconnect our communication for some minutes for our own safety,” the general yelled through the space to the factory monitors, making the oral officer to be carried by the message.

 

“Yes Sir, you can go forward.” The chief detector of the ground operation replied in a monotone voice.  He claimed he had cut off the ground connection, Miss Dinah who actually who disconnected the electrical waves in order to be free.

 

“We will inform your brother to change Mr. Vladin’s signatories and the trademarks all over America and Canada immediately after we have done away with him.  May I gauze that you never informed him about our calculated visions a head.”  The ghost angel woman said.

 

“That is exactly what I have done, you know if I had informed him, that boy will misbehave with our plans, let it look as if everything is an accident to everybody.  Also I detected some mischievous characters growing from him your plans I had already laid them in Canada where I have placed my ally.  I will phone to him after we have executed Mr. Vladin.  Even him, he is organizing himself up.  I saw him moving with a certain prostitute, who I suspected they have gone with.  You must understand our rules are against any association with female.”  The general suggested blandly as the flying butterfly winged toward Washington.  Miss Dinah glared at him without anger but wrath, throwing her head toward the rear window of the cabin.

 

Men inside this flying steam were all hashed; they can notice some untraceable behavior between these two caterpillars.  Tense atmosphere occupied the aircraft cabin, no longer compelled by fear but of braveness.  Some of them were willing to face this action now and get back home.

 

General Diochev hissed something unintelligible from the scowling on his face between his colored teeth, so stained with nicotine, probably from black coffee, as he doesn’t smoke. Miss Davina leaned towards him to get the short-lived words.  She retained her sitting posture with whirling thoughts.  She flashed operation pictures clearly with in her mad head, for the images will never happen and if they will goblin that was planning to make men searching for years.

 

Suddenly a terrible flashback tormented her brave thoughts.  She recalled vividly how she used to fight with her elder brother, giving him a permanent mark on his broad mouth.  Yes, the day when, she knocked his two teeth out with the help of her high hill shoe.  It was first August; Monday when they were both in high school.  She was jailed for seven months.  A lady, whom her parents hated, always nicknamed with all names of poor dignity, a killer.  These thoughts controlled her minds.

 

Miss Dinah, the programmed killer, loved it and she totally cherished when she had murdered somebody, in her minds, blood was a spot permanently reflected throughout the nerve brain.  It was a stain that cannot be removed by any holy prophet; I don’t know if prophet Isaiah was present to try the deal.  She is a senseless killer who butchers without patterns and she goes as far as kidnapping men and women of value and slain by her.  She kills without impurity, selecting the victim as a spider strikes it subject.  Now she is with another butcher too cosmetic;

 

She was there so contented with a brutal gun marked within her rotten body and the chopper maintained her ego.

 

“We will take approximately one hour to arrive at the Casino.  On top of the casino, twenty seventh floor, we have a landing space.”

 

“I know it, we had been in that place with your brother, Enockler.  You know I wanted to propose to him about this plan but he seems to be a coward. And fears you like shit “…. He is a total coward, no nothing can work through him.”  He agreed with her as the machine was cutting the air protruding on and on, creating a vacuum within its way.  From far they were germinating stalwartly towards their victim non-stop!  Every way was perfectly clear for them, No human or animal soul will dare to cross their hot lane.  The captain will be killed at exactly or ground mid night or he will be kidnapped and later slain.  The incident had become as an angel who is traveling to Jerusalem more refined and more professional.

 

She sat, cuddled next to the general with 0.32 colt revolver held tightly as the helicopter spotted its landing centre; coming down on the top of Washington International Casino.

 

General Michael Diochev stepped out of helicopter leaving the commandos squeezing themselves out of chopper cabin.  The crazy wind from the propellers made them to clutch their coats.  Lastly, she came out wearing shade glasses with tight black uniforms as other commandos; the management team of the Casino directed them to their private rooms immediately.

 

The men on the highway boomed towards Washington without any disturbance from the traffic police.  Their motors by passed each other as if they were formula-one cars, zipping along the highway strewn with ultra speed.  They were chasing time, by noon they are supposed to be in Washington to catch up with the general.  The drivers under control were steady and well used with high speed.  No vehicle overtook their speed limit, a dangerous drive.  The speedometers were under control reading sixty kilometers per hour. Moving like comets across the sky, or saints masquerading as a dandy who are called by their lords.  They were ready for any combat either from the police or the American justice department, nothing as the homicide was their solution.

 

From Moscow, the prince of all evils was restless as he was waiting for his hunters of humans.  He was maddened if possible to pull to time of meeting his prey.  He was eagerly waiting to see the moron who killed his brother.  He can be seen moving here and there holding his automatic shotgun wishing the day he will even have a gaze at his subject.  Damn it! He was all that crazy at his office watching the wall-clock purposely placed before him to drive him more mad.

 

“Nonsense!” he yelled after returning from his secretary who by now was nagging him a lot.  Taking his revolver, which he always carried, releasing the bullet that smack the clock at exactly six hours, Russian time.  The clock’s hours shattered all around the floor, leaving the diamond flame alone.  He walked towards the hanging flame, taking it with his left hand.  Glancing at it, his image was reflected from it, with a mileage of a spot of blood on its face.  On realizing this imaginable event, he went mad of the image releasing the flame down with a thud sound.  Moving like a hog, ravenously and sat on his chair, within seconds he dozed.

 

General Michael Diochev hurtled towards his private room followed closely by Miss Dinah and four commandos.  As the general entered into the room, quickly at the threshold the commandos tried to block Miss Dinah from entering in.

 

“What do you want, please can you leave me alone?”  She yelled, towards the heavy armed guards and she hustled them aside entering in the general’s office.

 

“Leave her alone and move to your respective places immediately.”  The general ordered with a high-toned voice as they swooped away as white foxes cornered by fierce wild dogs.  The general’s office was neatly arranged with computers installed for the purpose of monitoring their skirmish activities.  Taking his walk talkie.

 

“I know you are on the way here, still there is enough time, so you need to control your speed.  Already we have arrived safely here in Washington only expecting you soon.  Good luck on your drive.”  The general growled through the space transistor with a smooth and knowledgeable message.

 

“Please Miss Dinah how far have you gone with modern technology mostly on biological weapon here in America?  Do you have any knowledge in that field…. I would like to have somebody to assist us to build germs which can kill instantly and must be airborne.”  A question shot out before he could control himself.  She jerked her head throwing her mass of hair down her shoulders.

 

“I have myself been involved in the business.  The American Scientists by now are working on a robot fitted with hydrogen reactors.  The robot physically looks like a human being.  This remote controlled machine already had been assembled in pentagon. Even I know one of the major engineers among the group who worked to manufacture the deadly terminator.  I mostly suggest looking for means of kidnapping him to get the formulae of the whole structure.  In the state of Alaska already the NASA scientists have made a chemical gas that if inhaled it reacts with red blood cell immediately turning them into agglutination state from cell to cell.  This agglutination happens when the negatively charged chemical gas electrifies the whole body.  The process of manufacturing is extremely complex and expensive.  This is one of the secret activities taken by United States government.  To add on its effect, the gas, and let say ten tones can be able to destroy the whole state of about ten thousand square miles within a speed of seven hundred kilometers per minute.  Its speed limit is supersonic… I can assure you that the only means to acquire that dangerous gas is to capture it before they fly it to the moon where they are building a military camp of its own in the universe, so soon they will declare the moon to be one of their states of America.  This process of transferring this gas to the moon will take place about seven months for this hour. From the information that I have there are about four hundred tones of this gas already well packed for any possibility of war between USA and the Arabic world or Russia.  It will only take seven minutes to clear the entire living world.

 

Unfortunately it was only one man who was behind the manufacture of these.  I know him very well.  I even did my attachment with him when I was doing chemical science in the University of Boston.  For us is to search for means of taking even one hundred tones of the gas.  After taking the gas we destroy the whole structure by bombing it, and killing this highly powered brain of the idiot.  This gas is more deadly than any bomb in service by now.  No any weapon can destroy in such a speed.  The gas more preferred than the atomic bomb, nuclear or even the hydrogen bomb.”  She was talking, very excellent philosophy.

 

All this time as she was lecturing general Michael was behaving very royal, very keen never letting even a comma to lose him.  He had swallowed what he wanted, what he had been looking for, now she was a treasure to keep forever.  She was his.  He admired her more but she did not respect her.  He will dream a future through her, a future like other world dictators wading through.  Occupied by these thoughts he turned around, pulled a drawer taking out a videodisc of the world killer Dr. Adolph Hitler, the doctor of human slaughter.  He mounted it into the video machine on the table and Hitler’s red army was screened.  He often watches this film when he is compelled under high spirit.

 

He faced her dull eyes and broad mouth behaved as if to say something but was held a bit.  He shrugged, his shoulders moving so high.  He selected the point.

 

“When we bomb the factory, or say the whole unit, do you think the gas will explode and finish the world before we arrange for the future?  The general inquired excitedly reinforcing his question with his hands.  The findings had made him more with hope within his evil minds.  Miss Dinah gazed at him for some few seconds.  It was not that she was not responding to him, No, she was studying him.

 

“no they have also manufactured another counter reactor.  This counter reactor gas is positively charged, produced under a very high pressure.  This chemical when exposed to this deadly gas they combine under a terrible reaction producing sparks like of a lightening.  This gas is more reactive only to this gas, ten times in both speed and reaction.  The by product after reaction is equally harmless to the biological livings, ….I propose first we hijack this gas first on the same time, then we go for the chemical compound taking it as we bomb the factory.  As the factory goes in flames we open the counter reactor gases.  Taking off to Russia”.  She frowned distastefully sensing that he had not been satisfied.

 

“How about transporting this big cargo?  What means will we use to transport it.”

 

“Yeah ….use cargo planes, they are many here.  Hijack one as the operation is on or use the passenger plane, simple.  You told me you have done it several times.”  He nodded agreeing with her.  He had been involved in several hijacking of planes, an expert.  Again he had another option, using the sea highway.  Excellent! The best way to get off.  These were persons of high integrity.  Questing for a solution was not a big deal with them.

 

Now they have one way, first to get captain Macdonald and flown to Russia for vladin, that is all, to mark again another adventure ahead.  Move out general diochev and finish the world.  No turning.  No nothing.  No peace.

 

He stared at her for some minutes with a cursory look full of wonder. He shoved his head enough as if to think more with his claw fingers.  On her chair she intertwined her legs stretching herself over it.   She took a lighter and a cigarette, realizing that the cigarette butt end was not there; she threw it on the table.  The cigarette butt end rolled slowly landing near to the general.  The high tempered general was not happy with that, picking it; he dropped it into the dust container.  She took again another cigarette from her chest pocket. 

 

“Do you smoke?”

 

“No, I told you our generation doesn’t smoke.  We don’t want to weaken our spirit; we abstain from smoking and taking any strong alcohol.  Are you getting me clear, darling.”  Spluttered the general nervously, his face puckered as a puma ready for war.  But the stubborn woman never cared.

 

“That is shit, it is non of your business for me to smoke or not smoke.”  Looking more trifled and more prowess, she lighted her cigarette blowing a cloud of smoke from her pouted lips like an exhaust pipe of a diesel tractor towards his direction.

 

The general without dally stoop with cur, gazing at her defiantly across the haze of smoke and gave her a hard slap.  The swat force made her to swing around down.  Her lips tightly held the cigarette.  The general moved and took the cigarette stubbing it out on his palm.

 

Blood was oozing from her nose as he tried to push herself up.  Rolled her shoulder and walked forwards with full of fury towards him.

 

“You want a fight?”

 

“Yah, you mother fucker!”  She yelled out.  Never giving him time to arrange himself, throwing several punches towards him.  Unfortunately no punch caught him.  All were wasted.  She tried the kicks, but no kick assault him.  The general was a champion in the physical art.  Playing only a defensive game, for he never wanted to fight her.  She was like a puppet.

 

“You can go and test your fighting skills with young babies out at the streets but not me,” he looked vague, the lady stood defeated before him.  The general enfolded his heavy muscled arms across his broad chest and gave her an exotic gaze.

 

She started sobbing, tottering towards him and arched her arms around the general.

 

“Stop crying, I apologize for what I have done get me right, I will not touch you again.  Stop it darling, I love you, from now I will control myself” he said as he whisked her nose using his own shirt.

 

She stopped crying as he brought her a close and gave her a long tender kiss.  The seed of love and danger was planted at exactly six thirty hours.

 

“I will not smoke again and I will do anything you command as from today.”  “Forgive me also.  For I have forgiven you.”  Yes she was still the first who needed respect then him.   She was the head of gangsters.

 

He threw up his revolver from the drawer, looking at it, as he touched his nozzle and slid it into his holster.  On the shelves, he selected a 0125 caliber pistol and slashed it into his pocket.  He glanced at her, walking to her, taking her hand away towards the hallway.

 

“It is time to move out.”

 

“Are those on the way arrived here?”

 

“Yes I have seen the signals on my watch.”  He answered her as they walked to the hall.

 

“Instead of using the taxi, why can’t we drive the Mercedes limousine with tinted windows and follow them from behind?”

 

“Well, we might now use the car and watch there was out.”  The old crook-looking chap agreed with her.

 

In the hall, men had assembled ready to be directed.  General Diochev signaled the chief of commandos who was busy showing the soldiers the way they will take.  Lieutenant Davids, giving a half way salute, they moved towards an empty chair and sat.  General Diochev glanced at his watch, “Its now seven thirty afternoon hour, our prey will be at their headquarters at exactly nine evening hours.  It is time to drive out.  I will use the limousine with her.  I will direct and command the table unit from this motor… let us go.”

 

The professional killers, motivated by a desire to conquer and rule the world from whatever angle propelled to the door out to pentagon.  The American officer will be trailed to his house, kidnapped or be killed by this mafias men, and woman.  Yes, all were motivated solely by vengeance of the killer society.

 

They carried the prized weapon all that brutal.  Into the limousine, Dinah jumped onto driving gear.  The general stood outside the car as he gave Lieutenant Davids a final touch on the operation.  The commandos carried the Russian Kalashnikov automatic; a favorite weapon for theirs.  General Diochev emerged like the medieval desert-gangster of the modern times.  They took over two minute’s talking and gesturing towards the west leaving Dinah to fancy what they were talking…  “It looks like today night there will be a heavy storm…those moving clouds at least will work on our side.  Let it be a big storm for a better siege.”  The chief of commandos roared.

 

“What have you got from Vladin…  Is there any message from him?”  “He had not telephoned since last night, it looks like he is very busy,” choked the reply from the lieutenant.  The general frowned with anger as he swerved into the car.  All this time Miss Dinah was gazing them from the lowered fore window.  Both of her hands rested on the steering wheel.

 

When general Diochev swooped into the car, Lieutenant Davids praned into his taxi, Volkswagen Eurovan.

 

All were carrying false passports under assumed names, confidently and always-behaving innocent.  They were experts who have traveled all around the world.  In this field, there was nothing, which will scare them off.  The planet named earth was their private society.  Nothing will stop them.  Several governments have hired them, to kidnap and kill political rivals, overthrow many government and by now, it was a small motion not worth to mention.  They were out to satisfy their soul on one man; captain micky Macdonald, the American navy captain.

 

General Diochev slipped swiftly inside, positioning himself on the left hand of the driver.  The fury woman motivated by the high spirit gripped the steering with both hands.  She released the gear, crushing the accelerator with power.  The motor spun violently to the left and drove back onto the highway followed by the four taxis indefinitely.  As proposed the four taxis will be parked at a good distant from pentagon, the general will use his powerful binoculars and send the movement.  Apart from the binocular, Vladin’s agents were working tirelessly from pentagon.  These agents of Vladin working in the pentagon had been paid dearly for tonight siege.

 

For every thirty minutes, they were reporting the progress to the general using very secret signals that can be ready on the general’s wonder watch.  This high scanning watch was made in Sweden.  They are seven in number in the whole world.  The one which the pentagon agents are using belongs to one of their underground man who was shot when he was caught with a prostitute in Paris restaurant, both were stained in their room and the wrist watch was offered to one of Vladin’s watchdogs in the U.S. Army.  This watch is of its own kind, so powerful and highly reliable to the assassin society, like now it can configure the watch’s data subscription on a Microsoft wave.  The data is beamed directly to the watch’s tiny liquid crystal display screen.

 

“General Diochev, are you still in Washington, from the air force base in Kabul, the soldiers will arrive in Washington by exactly two, afternoon, Washington time.  You are supposed to be next to this man before he gets out of our touch.  I really trust that you will move out successful.  I want him alive.  Already I have assigned four hundred million dollars for you, if you bring that murderer here alive.”  Mr. Vladin phoned from Moscow.

 

“Is that all you can give?” Was the muffled question, which the general threw through the space using his cellular phone with fear, greatly influenced by Miss Dinah who leaned towards him as they drove towards pentagon.

 

“No! I will add on top five hundred grams of pure black diamond.  Is that okay…?  Soldier!  “He answered with exaggerated awe.

 

“ I will skin him a live” cried out the general as one of the hands brandished a bowie knife.

 

“Okay do that, you will get your gift, okay?  Men move out and get for me that bloodsucker!”

 

Nonsense, all that stupid as a terrible laughter vibrated the receiver inside the car.  The general never waited for the laughter to stop.  He cut off the line abruptly.

 

Miss Dinah engaged the gear and the car plunged noisily overtaking other vehicles like shit towards pentagon.

 

“I have drove through this streets for over fifteen years now.  This damned idlers city knows my drive so well.  You know… driving with high speed within a jammed street” she said with a hard tremulous voice, spinning the wheel to the east; pentagon.

 

The Washington city was peaceful.  The cops’ declare ring the city under control.  The American central government announced a victory from the Eastern world.  But the same government never understood the meaning of the word terrorism.  It was not the color, race religion or geographical position of a state.  No, terrorism is the work of a swatted soul.  Not money or power, it is strictly the soul.  From the Zionism, muffin, oruladism all have been guided under the spirit of the conscience, not of supremacy but of the black angel for blood is not red, it is colorless just believe it.  Several Americans were cooperating with the Arabs and the Russians to sabotage their country, and now they are facilitating their enemies to burn the nation, for captain Micky Macdonald must be caught.

 

“I am eagerly looking forward to handle this man.”  General Diochev handed the photo of Captain Macdonald to her.  She stared at it with cur, taking it with her right hand forcefully gazed at it with fury, witch’s eyes.  She spit on it, taking a lighter for her chest pocket, crushing the photo inside her bloodless palm, the photo was put on fire.  Lowering her fore window, threw the smoking paper into the street.  The coming vehicles crushed it into powder ash.  She became more a live with no apparent reasons.

 

All the four taxis took different routes to meet near pentagon.  The building laid architecturally beaming beautiful, carrying a generation of grabby betrayers.  Different characters under one flag perched together.

 

Simultaneously as the American air force fighter jet, was landing, the gangsters were approaching pentagon, as general Diochev’s wheels were forced to stop, also the jet’s wheels were scratching the earth all along, at a time both of the two engines stop.  The four taxis lined up to their passenger to the destination of death, for a time none stared outside.

 

“Lieutenant Davids, at this hour, the son of a bitch has landed.  We expect them to be at the pentagon within ten minutes maintain the situation as required.”

 

“Yes, general, we have positioned ourselves as it is supposed to be.” Lieutenant Davids shuddered dramatically, for the trap had been laid by the hunters, the net is coiled with arsenic wires.  It was waiting for its man to come, the prey was on the way coming innocently, not knowing what lay ahead.

 

The hour that had taken along trail was now at hand.  A lot of brain burning had given birth to a poisonous fume.  Too dangerous to breathe.  Horrible for human survival.

 

“Hi, general your man, your man has arrived.  They are coming in to be interrogated by us for less than forty minutes.  At around three afternoon hours, we will let him fly to you.  Take care of the roving reporters that are out any numerous.  The soldier from our data, stays at cave Davi, four hundred miles from here.  Take care baddy.”  The Vladin man working as a FBI agent within the pentagon intelligent oval office said caboriously in a baritone voice, through his cellular phone direct to general Diochev.

 

The American hurricane hit squad 002, led by captain Micky Mac Donald arrived. Swimming with their army jeep Cherokee vehicles through the Battalion Street into the pentagon, consuming them all without no delay, the iron gates summarized their safety, back home from the hostile environment and people, to the most deadly abyss.  The vehicles were clearly seen inside the general’s car.  The powerful satellite was doing it’s work, stationed seven hundred yards away from the pentagon.  The gates were perfectly on focus, four soldiers guarded it without arms.  Within the time given, the gates will vomit the soldier who had made revolution around Vladin’s empire.  A drop of no definition powers of change.

 

“My men, the man we expect had been waiting for has eventually arrived control your arms from this very hour.”

 

“We have seen seven army vehicles drove in, we the soldier to be holed within the vehicles “Lieutenant Davids responded with his usual peremptory tone.

 

“Immediately when you pick him, you alert me with the signals.  Never move out all at once from the spot.  One vehicle at a time, with intervals of twenty minutes, I will follow you on the way.  You return to our hotel after you have dropped him at his home.  Never drive the taxis to our hotel.  I have arranged for some chauffeurs who will take the taxis for disposal.  The following car numbers will be left as follows.  Car number three forty six, at J.F. Kennedy hotel along Jefferson avenue; car number two thirty six at black ice restaurant along black street; car number one hundred next to memorial garden four hundred meters from here, the highway heading to network.  The fourth taxi, we will destroy it at cave Davi, some yards away, to reduce the chances of following us.  Additional taxi.  Don’t use any binocular searching him.  I will direct you from here.  Relax in your vehicles until I tell you, who the burglar is.  Is that right…. Never force him into the car, if he is not cooperating, I will follow him immediately alone.  Take everything ease, for the tiger had landed into the iron high-electrified cage.  Bustle out and snatch him now.”  The general above the commandos gave up a Marxist platitude with a curtly tone.

 

Inside his car, Miss Dinah was busy using her wits end to make the puster tele-machine to focus clearly to what was going on outside the pentagon the scanning in their vehicle was aided by the video machine mounted in one of the cars.  At the pentagon also the satellite at the Washington international casino.

 

“Please general, phone to the taxi possessing the volleying machine to put on the ignition, so that the pictures on the digital screen to be clear.” Purred Miss Dinah.

 

“Yap! I see it is not clear to detect him; they are standing three hundred yards away from here! The general leaned to the screen.

 

The general phoned to them and nearly immediately the engine was ignited.  The images on the screen responded clear.  She seemed pleased with her own way of wits.  At a glance, she was all charming, grinning and self assured of what she had done.  She was satisfied within her own world.  The satellite set the operation on the perfect line.

 

“It is now looking better.  We can even detect the soldier even at a distance.  It looks we will be much together after this dubious construct of Vladin” their eyes met in a delightful appreciation although they behaved serious.  She continued.  “I have been working in a more complicated technology.  We can even follow the movement of a plane from here up to Finland without losing it on the way.  Are you getting me clear, general?” she said absently.

 

General Michael Diochev looked exhausted with wondering life that had made him to lose weight, for this type of life needs so much stamina within the brain work.  You need to have very intelligent visions and excellence.  All this time the general was glancing at his wonder-watch as if he was waiting for his sweetheart coming by the plane.

 

All of them waited patiently for the soldier to come out.  Never and never will they lose hope to the last minute?  Although it had taken less than one hour, it turned out to be like a million in a torture chamber waiting for their promised freedom.

 

The sun was fulfilling it’s plodding journey to the west.  It was being felt from far.  Running away not to witness the evil of the world.  Its wild swooping brought light breeze, cool but not that chilly coldness of arctic weather.  From far and near, clouds were not left out, very brave creatures, were gathering from all parts of the universe to witness tonight’s devilish siege.  The wind was kept at bay, only waiting for the trumpet to call them.  Always ready for action.  The evening hour looks so salt, threatening a crazy storm.

 

“General, it looks today night it will rain heavily providing to us a good opportunity to annihilate the whole family.  Oh! I was thinking about something; can those bastards in pentagon betray us?”  She grinned obtusely directing her pumped up face away from the watching screen.

 

“No, they would have done it long ago.  If they will try to sniff anything from us, they know their throats will be contaminated without care of their babies.  Anyway everybody is a potential traitor, you or they.”

 

“Don’t be mad… you maggot, busy for nothing, I don’t want to hear that word, please.  Get me right, okay?” the curt was badly vague and threw the woman into madness.

 

The general was totally stunned of the strange behaviors of this woman.  Again the second time he contained it perfectly within his psyche.  The woman maintained her raucous face clucks and her obvious brusque and arrogant unwell manner taken over into brooding quietness within car.  The scent of misunderstanding was been smelled within.  The general never left aside for those whom he knows will help him.  So selfish.  The churlish general shrugged his shoulders and kept silence.

 

She took a cigarette from her breast’s pocket and lighted it.  She was steamed, smothered it over her palm producing a ghost smell as if a fox has landed into a Saharan desert fire.  And again she lit another cigarette, taking one long puff and threw it outside the car followed by a black haze of smoke.

 

He never looked at her, very confused of what she was doing.  “Please can you stop of being crazy.”  He broke the short silence.

 

“It is time the man will be out one minute from now” she overlooked the question, so dramatic. She was changing all around.  So dangerous to handle and too weird of what will be her next move.

 

“Your man had gone through, now he is walking out carrying a black knap sack accompanied by his wife they are walking to the entrance….”  The agent inside pentagon confirmed vividly as captain Macdonald was coming out.

 

“That is a splendid idea comrade; you have completed your assignment.  Now leave the lest to us.”  The general’s voice was hust and vibrant, carefully quested.

 

Right over the lounge, the captain stood as if he was examining the surrounding.  His left hand dumped into the army-trouser.  His sharp eyes glistering from the evening sun beams.  He gazed towards the main gate accompanied by his wife.  Feeling at ease he shrugged and hastened down the stairs.

 

“Comrades that is the man with a black knapsack mark his steps and don’t betray me.” The general echoed.

 

The commandos pranced within their sits as if some body was drilling a hot metal through their ass.  Fear electrified their brains, adrenaline poured across every sense of their body.  Step by step, they will be used with this type of environment. They were aware of this, principally aware.  The soldier emerged through the gate as a fervent ambassador.  He was examined all that gorgeous with a mild fear smelt from him.

 

“Why is he stopping, had he sensed something nasty?” she asked, confused about everything.  For her, it was like she was watching a film of bluff world.

 

“That is his wife… definitely, she has come to collect him.  And that man joining them might be a soldier working inside the pentagon.  You, you see he is moving toward pentagon.  Let us hope his wife never brought the car.”  The general said as he fixed his eyes on the screen.  Everything was responding to its trap.  The prey was progressing as required.  The trap was beckoning them kindly and the arsenic spikes were emitting a hag’s scent, strictly guiding them to the trap.

 

The taxi commandos were eagerly waiting for their prey, as they were walking to the taxis without committing any sin.  The conspicuous tall soldier with his mate to the slaughter cars.

 

“Hi! Madam can I take you home?  Come on.”  The couple assumed the chauffeur and matched to the next taxi, which was about thirty yards away.

 

“It seems like they are not going to use our cars… yes we have got him.” General Michael Diochev said.

 

“Please take us to Cave Davi, how much?”

 

“Seven dollars only, madam” the driver commando answered her as he spanned the wheels off.  The chauffeur had got them inside the cargo.  Excellent!

 

The taxi vanished off, other taxis followed at intervals, with the fuming from behind.

 

“Hallo! Mr. Vladin, we have netted our foe in our car.  We will drop him at his home at Cave Davi, the car he is in will be left at this primitive village town under flames and we keep vigil up to midnight and storm the house of this folk.  We plan to destroy the car to confuse our motives being followed.  Then we will fly off straight to Moscow with the foe for you.  Already we have booked for four freight tickets to Moscow. Wait for your man within twelve or more hours from down.  Relax and don’t panic for I am under control, is that right. Okay see you.”  The general dropped his voice bravely as they followed captain Micky Macdonald, using a different avenue within the city to cave Davi.  Driving like damned animal happy for innocent blood.  The general from this motor, recording every conversation, monitored everything.

 

“Lastly we have got him, there is now way he can escape from our dragnet, I will leave four commandos to watch his movement from there.  You will take one taxi and drop it as I said early.  The other commandos will take the remaining two taxis and the remaining one will be left near cave Dave to wait its time.   At least now I feel good.  The only remaining challenge is to him transport to Russia at the early morning flight.” The said with high almost awkward falsetto tone with full of joy.

 

“No, I am not going to separate from you…” Miss Dinah said.

 

“I have told you, I will be with you at the Motel when you have dropped the car at J.F. Kennedy restaurant, I will follow you from behind and pick you have it that right, don’t be stupid on small matters” He snapped from the darkness of his devilish thoughts which had been terminating him for long and grinned to her benevolently.

 

“Okay!” she snapped.

 

The evening hour of four had retained the cuckoos on motion to cave Davi. General Michael the shrewd, calculating soldier maintained the hush as he produced the sketch map leaving to cave Davi, spreading it over his thigh, he picked some three red-round headpins and poked them forcefully on cave Davi spot.  Taking his ball pen he circled the spot with a cross mark Red.  Taking his dial he ruffled the rough sheet of paper landing at the date where the date where they are standing.  He wrote. “NO HUMAN BEING WILL EVER SOLIDIFY OUR POWER BASE WITHOUT A TOTAL REVENGE.”  The words were in black.  This was their first venture outside the city taking along distance carrying the bastard within.  It was far less than those mugging operation done in world big cities.  This arrogant were never scared of anything.  Rolling stately carrying their foe to his family to test the last half night with his family.  The speck of blood and water was dropping from Micky Macdonald’s family.  So painful to adhere, a shameful act.

 

The vehicles sailed smoothly through the rolling mountains.  They were approaching cave Davi from distance by the help of the ascending sun, their mileage was making the racing car look like the medieval Indian arrows thrown by the magic power to its tormentors at a far place.  The black tarmac ked road added the figure as if there were within the hell fire or within the devil’s mirror.  They were glistening towards their destination like a black python wallowing through the Ethiopian great valley, shinning greatly from the scorching sunshine.

 

Six kilometers to cave Davi the poster announced within six minutes they will mark the end of their journey.

 

“Let us bypass them, we are supposed to be back to Washington by six evening hour to arrange our return.” He commanded.

 

Miss Dinah without dally crushed the accelerator making the limousine propel madly to east.  Within three minutes they had finished counting the four backward.

 

They drove to the petrol station behaving as if they had a mechanical problem, but none got out of the car.  They were watching the coming taxis keenly.  Miss Dinah tied her chiffon scarf over her head turning to a male songbird.

 

“They have taken the lower avenue, let us direct the coming cars.” The general said making Dinah to reverse and took off as people who have got lost their way.

 

The car carrying the general approached the couple’s motor, they bypassed them and stopped some meters away.  The coming taxi carrying the couples bypassed them.  The general knowing where they have gone, within four minutes the other taxis arrived. They stopped with the salute of the general through the lowered front window, turning to where the general’s limousine was parked.

 

“Make a stop at Cave Davi.  Wait there and inform all the other taxis.  You will select four commandos from the six of you.  Position yourself at the town and wait for us for more information.”  He commanded in a hushed voice.

 

Miss Dinah spanned the motor following the taxi, which carried the captain and his wife.

 

The imperial terrorist’s car conquered the road; they approached their taxi getting rid of captain Macdonald and his wife.  Bypassing them without any recognition from the couples.  The general’s limousine boomed on, giving them time to move to their house.  The captain’s house lay beautiful there greened with pine, cork and olive trees spread around the building.  At this estate, there posed few houses at a distance of about five hundred meters.  The environment provided a good scenery, even for torture.  The house will be annihilated, mutilated with less or no disturbance from the surrounding.  Macdonald’s house lay more than two hundred meters from the main road.  His car was parked at the backyard.  A horse can be seen being pulled by a man of early twenties or less.  The killers collected all these knowledge for about five minutes.

 

The general had parked his car at a high point, using his binoculars the house of the captain was searched properly.

 

“They are now moving to their house.  I gauze the man who is with the horse must be his son… A big boy.  We will also take him with his mother and aunt, our car is moving away.  We will surround this house and reduce it flat.  Over the house there is an alarm installed there.  His escaped routes must be marked properly.”  The general shuddered dramatically as he was focusing the captain his house on top of his limousine.

 

Miss Dinah languoring like a cat leaned towards the general taking the binoculars forcefully, bringing the binoculars onto her eyes.  Within seconds the whole compound was on focus.  Adjusting the fine-knob, the young man with the horse tied it at a post, walking towards the side door.

 

“It looks like there is a door from the other side of the building.  Also I can see a footway heading into the forest… it is leading to the east” she said taking the binoculars away from her wondering eyes.  Blinking steadily, still holding the binoculars, whisking her eyes with her forearm, hand the binoculars back to him, standing a akimbo.

 

“We will be back tonight for the last incursion.”  General Michael’s voice trailed off.

 

Miss Dina jumped into the driving seat like a wild cat.  She put the car into gear, slamming down the accelerator and spanned back to cave Davi.  Taking a bending towards Washington, the general informed the squadrons of soldiers to follow him using the walk talkie.

 

“Leave one taxi which drop our foe away from the town with four men.  Dinah is coming on foot to collect one of the taxis.  Two of you will drive the other taxis.  The intelligent chief will head the whole movement until we will be back with six hours from now.”

 

“Loud and clear, general” Lieutenant David said.

 

“Wait for her before you move out.”  He informed.

 

Miss Dinah stopped the engine and got down without a word, she trudged off to the taxis some hundred meters away.  As she was walking away the general watching her from the side mirror as her launches quivered under the tight cotton black trouser at every step she made.  She started running, swaggering to the standing taxis.

 

“I will take that one, comrades… where is the key” she said.

 

“Okay, you can drive it, you know where to drop it, madam?”

 

“Yes, this is car number two thirty six… at black ice restaurant! Am I right?” She said without a wink towards the intelligent chief.  “Correct madam, along Kennedy Street.”

 

The female soldier took the car heading to Washington followed by two taxis nearly immediately, like crazy wild beasts off to Washington.

 

Miss Dinah was racing, grumbling with a speed limit above two hundred kilometers per hour, within thirty minutes she was behind the general with only sixty meters. Sledging the accelerator the car was impelled like lightening leaving the general’s car as if standing.  She hooted as she vanished off to Washington.

 

The savage general was left behind chasing her like a sheep chasing a cheetah.  Miss Dinah, without caring boomed with a high speed bypassing other vehicles as the sun was skipping along the rolling mountain, ascending for a break of light for twelve hours.

 

“Why are you speeding, mind if you wait for us” the general phoned to Miss Dinah.

 

“You get me at the hotel… you need to know how to drive, don’t do it like babies, I have no time waiting for you Mr. general.”  She responded to him using the walkie-talkie.

 

“Okey, when you drop it, please you remove the installed phone in the car… I know you know how to go about with it.  Take the taxi, to drop you away from the spot where you leave the motor.  Check for any suspicious person following you.  Never misbehave, right you might find yourself in trouble.”

 

“I can even walk.”

 

“No! I have told you to take a taxi and I repeat you take a taxi; to drop you. Some convenient meters away from the International Casino Hotel.”  He confirmed rudely.

 

“Yes I have got you son of a bitch.”  She responded.  Anywhere by now the general had been used with her.  He signed and drove on.  She was not embarrassed to notice his discomfiture by the heavy breathe through the phone.

 

Her swift motor approached the city with three-hour drive, so unbelievable she parked the car, crossed the avenue to her left where a black Lincoln LS taxi stood.

 

“Take me to States Avenue near continental hotels, please.”  She said taking ten dollars from her black leather purse that swelled from the impact of the phone, which she disengaged from the car.

 

“Get your money boy…” handing the taxi fare over the chauffeur’s shoulder. She sat innocently at her back left.

 

This is the place, madam… thanks and welcome again.”  The black American bleated, fixing his obsidian big eyes on her.  She never cared with the gaze; she took quick steps away leaving the taxi whistling off.

 

Taking the back route to the casino, she brisked through the private wing unnoticed by the guards.  A hog, on her normal routine.  Along the lounge, she met Mr. Enockler who was badly stunned by her abrupt appearance in the casino.

 

“Unbelievable, where are you from Miss Dinah! You mean all along you have been here,… have been somewhere?”

 

“No, Enockler, I have just arrived.  They are on the way coming.

 

“Okay, they are on the way but… but how comes you are alone? Anything wrong?  Just tell me.”

 

“You need an answer, get me in the bathroom I will whisper to you where they are.”

 

“What do you mean, Dinah?”

 

“Can you stop that smelling breathe off my face, you idiot. Leave me totally alone.”  Thundered the queen of all evils, greatly ridiculous all that stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

The night was inscrutable dark and the firmament was spangled with heavy dark clouds, flitting speedily to the north of the city, rumbling threatening carrying with it a cold storm.  The general and his men arrived at the city as the traffic lights were glimmering, heading straight to the casino, the other cars were taken to their proposed sites.  The general parked his limousine in the underground parking lot and brisked off to his private room.

 

Turning to the left along the corridor, the general met his brother brisking down to welcome him.

 

“His brother, it is high pleasure for going through this operation without any trouble.”

 

“It is too early to predict… unless there will be nothing which will interfere with our incursion.”

 

“Fine then, have you seen Miss Dinah?  She arrived here some minutes ago looking so gorgeous … she is in the bath room.”

 

“Just leave her alone, she knows what she is doing.  A crazy woman.  I had never come across a female like her.  Always in early.  An unwanted alien in her world.. arrange for the armaments to be loaded into the green 01 Ford Explore sport trac and some can be loaded into the Jaguar X-type.  All luggage should be functional.  Two hours from now we will be off.”  The general asserted formally with a wary voice as they walked to the cabin.

 

Along the private wing, block ‘B’ was jammed with guards at every corner.  The whole section was properly protected; walking even along the corridor was prohibited unless you are a registered comrade of Vladin’s organization and even so; there were many who are not even allowed to enter the rooms.  The life inside this imperial palace was a social stagnant community which was fainted with blood and racial/ prejudice.  It was a source of all evil within the public.  Whoever survived for his or her gods protected long with the empire.  To be a survivor in this world of Vladin for a time you must be the luckiest one, only those astute or subtle will live within the pool of evil.

 

Miss Dinah was going to play her cards well to survive or not survive, her fate will determine her fortune within this horrible hard cores of terrorism from Russia.  As the General rumbled into his cabin, finding Miss Dinah busy arranging her revolver trying to fix a silencer.

 

“You are a funny character.  Can we go to the dine room for supper.  I feel hungry… I have taken something strong for my stomach.”

 

“You have missed something, go and bathe, sir.  I have just requested you to do it, for God’s sake.  You are badly stinking from the hot sun.”

 

“I nearly forgot that, … thanks, at least more caring.”  He exaggerated with an awe tone in between.  He brisked off to the bathroom that was holed within the cabin.  The general’s private chamber had a bathroom, bedroom and an oval office.  On his office table, his attaché case laid there.  Realizing he is off to bath, Miss Dinah intruded swiftly towards the attaché case, she twisted the dial, the lock clicked and the case sprang open.  It was so preposterous, so wonderful; the case contained a powerful Germany mode gun, fixed into it.  The whole case was a computer property a key to so big secrets installed somewhere on earth.  The attaché was always within his reach.  In it was a computer disc, she picked it.

 

“Never insert that disc in any computer machine, it is an explosion switch, with alpha rays emission.”  She heard the warning from the general behind her.  She was dazed and blenched, without a second thought, she returned the disc and locked the case.

 

She moved to where she sat, curling herself as an innocent angel.  Within four minutes the general protruded from his bedroom wearing a black silk overcoat looking more less like Lucifer winding around his fiefdom.  His sharp black eyes gazed onto the table, knowing that it had been searched, turned the dry eyes towards her scorching.

 

Caught in action, the witchtitty maintained her ignorance and continued, busy cleaning her revolver as if there was nothing wrong going on.  The general his unblinking stare prompted the sparks of fear all within the room.

 

“You did it… answer me and why?” the general asked morosely.

 

“Yes, forgive me. “She frowned distastefully.

 

“That marks the third and the last warning I am giving you the next round you misbehave, I will skin you alive. Have you got me right?  I don’t have time for evil minded fanatics.” With his lecherous look, the raucous voice ascended unpleasantly into her tough head.  She responded to the bitter words by keeping quiet without any motion.

 

“I am not a spy… just forget my action.  “She said.  And the general locked the attaché case into the cabinet.  She wanted to scream in defiance against a weak, defeated spirit, which had never been silenced, but her conscience directed her to maintain with the iron heart. The general stared at her for few seconds feeling how sorry she felt.  In short the general adhered her even if she can diarrhea on him.  She behaves like a field marshal.

 

“Stand up time for dinner,” the general said extending his muscled hand to her.  She took it as he helped her to stand.  Looking at her face, he found her tall graceful body and her exquisite camellia skin so bewitching and attractive.  The woman leaned towards him, but he did not allow it to happen within this environment.  With an iron heart, he impelled off, but inserted with a human loving heart she followed him.

 

The atmosphere within this empire was quite chilly and so hushed.  Everybody within the hall was accelerating with the fate of the general.  Nobody was even ready to be next to him.  Even his brother, Enockler kept at a distant.  This damned bad tempered general changed totally the atmosphere in the casino.  The executive Private VIP dine hall was perfectly decorated with red; the whole room whiffed the Russian roast.

 

“Do you prefer the Russian meals, anywhere you are at repartee to choose your delicious home food you like.”

 

“I can take anything eatable as far as it doesn’t upset my stomach.  Anything you can propose.” She said cordially as they locked they buttocks, Mr. Enockler and the Chief of the commandos joined them nearly immediately. Four butlers served them with different types of roasts; drinks were offered summarized with the Russian vodka.

 

“ It has started raining at Cave Davi from the weather focus, the temperature had fallen to seven degrees fahrenheit. We expect it to fall more. Rescue team must be positioned of anything, if the temperature falls far below the freezing point.” Lieutenant David said wittily as they were moving to the intelligent office, underground.

“But let us expect not to behave to that extent ... an helicopter can’t make out with that temperature. By now we need to be on the way by thirty minutes, we must be through here.” General Michael whimpered. In the intelligent office, a spot was marked where the helicopter would pick them, more than twenty kilometers away from the victim’s house. The helicopter will land along the highway for not more than seven minutes standing. The hand-over will be done with the highest speed and flown straight to the canton. Their registration numbers should be scrapped off. No any gargantuan error should be played here. A dangerous zone before the terrorists regime. The entire movement will be electrically monitored by Washington International Casino more detailed about their kidnapping was finalist at the intelligence hall

 

The time was not left out as it was slowly strolling to is endless journey. The gruesome death of Micky Macdonald’s family. Patiently waited for its end. Nobody was there to stop them. Very merciful; there are coming only time will dictate for their souls will join other psyche world of darkness. This world will never divorce them; they will stay together forever until when the almighty of the whole beings will decay away and freedom of the tormented souls. I don’t know if Micky Macdonald will be selected to humans again, only thou know.

 

“ I lay the hand of victory towards our siege. We are now at repartee to go to satisfy our aura.

For now, I whiff a great victory ever since I started this blessed job of international business Union and I have never let them down. Now Mr. Enocklev, the helicopter will be flown immediately. I will give out the success signal from Cave Davi. Lastly, the four commandos plus Mr. Poodipoodi, we will have an emergency meeting strictly next week. Make sure both of you, you avail yourself there. “General Michael  Diocherv  impeached, declaring the incursion smugly.

 

Unthinkable, the lion was out for the porcupine. As the wild beast pounced into its prey, The porcupine had no any defensive against this strong and fiercely animal only equipped with its strings. Projected out. The lion stroke at once killing the porcupine instantly. But the strings never missed the lion, injuring it badly. It had killed the porcupine but it and been injured. The sustained injuries will kill the lion at long last. It tried to vomit the strings that had impended into its mouth, but failed. No body for the miserable lion was there to help it. It is incredible. The iron will die with the same fate as that of a porcupine.

 

The son of impoverished Russian social misfit within their shoal of discrimination not hovering in the first class, brisked off to Cave Davi, their strong vehicles were plunging a thick mist which covered Washington city to Cave Davi. Traffic lights aided by lightening from a sure made the program killers more in the scenery of murder. Prized brutal weapons were within their reach for the game as started, nonstop the old buddy was on the wheel with his mistress next to him. Everybody wore black Russian mackintosh with red cloaks pronouncing them to be flying bats. The marksmen and woman were on their way to their man whom they have been chasing since without mercy. They had no patience with this bureaucrat. They should fulfill their goal without any hesitation to professional murders, there to survive forever, now frantic to cold killers. Mentioning even their presence can make the pregnant woman to abort or is like looking for phantoms. Totally feared by all beings, only the devil prostitutes were now conquering the soul of these terrorists. Their foe will be send to rot in mediocrity without any odds in between, their evil governments. All directed by the needed to stay and they are there to reign the underworld government forever. These dragon goblins grew every hour opposite to what the normal human beings were questing. These wild beasts felt thirst for blood, the colorless liquid prisoner inside the living skin, was wanted by all cost.

 

The thick mist was released from the great sea, curling through the beams of traffic lights turning the entire world into a doomed world. At the far horizon, thick swart clouds were bawling along like the great turfs of the enormous volcanic eruption threatening an impregnable storm brewing up. The titans were praying to their intrigue. Their potent gods were responding as their expectations. The heavy storm caused friction through the space as the two motors were jostling through and the windscreen wipers, tirelessly tried to maintain the screen free. The wheels squeezed off water particles from their touch as they very roll along the tarmac road to Cave Davi. Along the highway very few vehicles were on their way. It was nine thirty night hour, two and a half hours to their destination. The night was bewildering in its deep silence and peace. The only hour, which the naughty demons enjoyed a lot, rumbling across the azure. The hour leading to another hour. The bottle hour was dropping its elements nonstop to the last drop. The time was empty. It was a time of inscrutable none spoke within their motors no phone calls from Russia, Washington or from internal world. They were left alone as if something sinister had happened. They felt lonely on their own earth.

 

“ Hallo, are you in touch with us there in Washington or you have lost us?”

 

“ No, we are getting you clear on the screen and through the phone”.

 

“Okay, we were wondering whether something had gone wrong up there. It is raining heavily here but its not too much with the fog. Anyway we expect for the helicopter to collect us after the intrigue. Arrange from the airport for our flight. We will act as people who are carrying a copse to Germany. I know you have gone through accordingly as we arranged early. We had already communicated with our men in Berlin to handle the victim as soon as it lands in Berlin. With the helicopter, we will take a straight flight to J.F International Airport. We are going to inject him with phrasal drug to look dead for. More than seven hours. Also we will try to change his physical appearance. Anyway much detail you will get later. Keep in touch with us”. Roared the general, spinning the wheel.

 

Exactly there in front of their eyes lay the bungalow of captain Mickey Macdonald. As the vehicle stopped the headlights were deemed. One commando jumped off, opened gates, without any trouble. Abruptly the crickets maintained like requested silence. The tax, which was left at the Cave Davi, trailed from behind.

 

“It is peaceful sir, we have been here some minutes ago. No any suspicion, nor disturbance, they are asleep.... but the victim was looking restless moving around every room. Lastly returning to his bedroom” Lieutenant David stopped his taxi next to the general’s car, whispering to him through the lowered fore-window. By then the commando has successfully opened the gate.

 

“Did he sense anything?” the General asked.

 

“No, but there was some fear in him.  He was totally, quailed.

 

“That is normal. He must be sensing danger. We must be very careful when to handling such people.”

 

Already as the general was talking with Lieutenant David’s, the other commandos has surrounded the bungalow. Ready only waiting for the real combat from the general. Guns were thrown. The general pushed the door of his 01 Ford Explorer Sport track, stepping outside very elect, tall and huge. He wore no masks within seconds the rain smothered his long lock hair roughly down his shoulders. Turning him to a Japanese robot, adjusting his black gloves, with his fingers dancing like a spinning machine. He was by looking excessively strong. He threw his lock long hair back forcefully with his head, sprawling the adhering water off. His white eyes had turned red with full of fury. Next to him stood Miss. Dinah, the female white angel. Around her wrest the grenade formed a chain, on her left; killer’s knife adhered firmly to the black American khaki-trouser. Both hands clutched a powerful modern Kalashnikov riffle, which is capable to shoot two bullets ago. The general threw his ant-aircraft launchers gun which her preferred most. In his breast pocket four thinners stiletto knives coated with zucchini chlorine which paralysis instantly eventually killing within seconds with a scrape.  The general was an expert in handling this lethal knife., throwing to his victim, thirty meters away not missing the target’s throat. From inside, he wore a bullet-prove vest.

 

David’s, the intelligent officer carried his usual barreled, heavy-calibre automatic capable of spraying bullets for more than thirty minutes non-stop, a powerful machine. Along his belt, he wore twenty grenades with a killers knife well fixed a long.

 

The terminators were greatly armed and dangerous. The sentence of execution was at stake on its way to follow shortly. The whole building will be totally wrecked within one hour from now, too ridiculous. These Russians arsenic with thrible entries were on the ground now.

 

A menacing thunder rumbled through the sky, lightening flushing over them. No one was awakened from his or her evil activity as the warning of the lightening ceased off. General Michael Diochev gazed intensely towards the bungalow. He hasted to the main door, immediately followed by the hit squad. One commando moved swiftly to the door, inserting a master key, turning the door slowly and the door sprung open. Carefully the three commandos hurtled inside. None can detect their careful movement, making a security zone for the general to enter.

 

As the general entered, the lights were off. Using their powerful spotlight, they surveyed the living room like none stayed there. Two commandos moved to the victim’s bedroom door keeping vigilance, guns were pointed, their muzzles seeking any approach of their target. The general raised his fist, tightly held.  He released the fingers.  The signal was enough as the door was whacked into pieces.  The commandos hurled inside, they surrounded the captain’s bed, pointing their guns on his face.  The other two commandos had already, successfully entered into Micky Macdonald’s sister’s room.  The action within one minute went on so dramatic.  General Michael Diochev trudged into the room, a brave soldier within the underground world.  None even Macdonald’s wife heard what was going on.  They had missed asleep for long and were held so deep in slumber land.

 

The lights were put on.  The general tottered to his target, his gun hanging loosely down his back.  The couple was asleep.  The general pulled off the weather blackest, leaving their body laying open.  Captain Micky Macdonald woke, chagrined, held in a world of wonder.  He blinked vigorously not believing what was going on.  Over his face, cruel, fierce stare gleamed over him.  He squeezed his eyes to make him see clearly.  He had been caught unaware.  Is it a dream, and horrible dream?  As a soldier he tried to simmer everything first, but an instinct mislead him to be a dream.  He went back to sleep, closing his eyes to make what he saw to be a dream.

 

All these few minutes, the commandos stood over them watching without a word.  Suddenly the captured captain opened his eyes to witness what was clearly going on.

 

“We don’t want you to waste our limited time here do you know this figures here…have you ever seen these people anywhere around.  You sonofabitch, you shoot my fellow comrade in Afghanistan killing him and you thought you would escape and for that I am declaring a sentence of torture without mercy! “General Diochev haggled with fury and anger; eventually he hauled the captain with his muscled strong arm into a seating position.  The pandemonium scene made the captain’s wife to wake up.  She was stampeded; realizing what the hell was going on, she never gave them time to have a glance at her.  A high tone scream went high consuming the whole commotion.  The whole squad was left at a boggy situation.  With a flash of light, Captain Macdonald spun in time, rolled about landing under the bed.  The scuffle was set to another base, for none was aware whether the gun was with him.

 

“Hold your guns, don’t shoot, we need him a life.” The angry general muffled as the commandos pranced back.  The general looked very vague, now at a distant away from the bed, very much aware who they were dealing with.  The woman was left shrieking alone on bed, nude. I don’t know what, she disengaged herself swiftly from the intruders like a wild cat to the door, her husband lay under the bed holding his assault rifle tight like a cornered cowboy.  No trace of fear was within him, only waiting for another chance to come.  Mrs. Macdonald trampled away searching for any weapon she can master against these monsters.  At exactly on the door’s threshold, Miss Dinah never allowed her another chance of survival.  She brought forward her deadly Kalashnikov rifle; her stubby finger fumbled for the trigger, the trigger was pulled mercifully eager for blood.  The double bullet shot went wild bashing the tender tread into pieces.  The destructive noise guaranteed the execution on motion.  She went up landing into pieces.  Blood was seen all around the bedroom with squashed skull far away from the body.  The general made a terrible mistake; his mind whirled off from his major target and turned to the slained woman. The hunters were frantic by the barrage as their eyes turned slowly to Miss Dinah, a killer, a wreathed murderer, and an expert at shooting.

 

This was a gruesome death now on chain.  Their game had started with the captain’s wife.  A crazy world of terrorists.  The ruthless cadre of terrorists on which she was enjoying; within the civilized world.  She glanced at the general with obsidian eyes, not caring what to follow or what she had done.

 

“I instructed you not to use your weapon, only in the most dire emergence, are you getting it clear ma.” before his husky tone was off the captain made unseen, unknown wince before they can realize his presence, ignited by the slaying of his beloved wife, his fingers surged in for the trigger as he span from under the bed with a fierce shriek, so fiery.  The barrage was never heard only the stampede and pandemonium was seen.  Two commandos were shot dead who covered the general.

 

“Get cover and don’t shoot…” the general chided in their native language as he took cover tugging Miss Dinah behind the wardrobe, both dived behind it.  The lieutenant, Davids, was behind the captain; he sprang on his back, throwing a kick, which caught the captain across his thigh.  The captain swirled, now facing lieutenant Davids with scowl gripping the gun tight ready to do away with Davids, the intelligent officer.  He fired, Davids, an experienced killer directed the muzzle away from him.  The bullet embedded itself into the wall above him.

 

The general got a chance to paralyze him.  He sprang from behind like a cheetah; the most difficult parry was heard used by the red Chinese dragon fighter.  In his left hand he held a syringe of the ten milliliters filled with a strong paralyzing chemical.  Before the second bullet went off, the general had mauled the chemical into the captain his fresh.  The rifle ripped off.  The captain was paralyzed within seconds, as the gun clattered to the floor, he followed it, staggering a bit.  He tried to say something but he could not.  His eyes grew white, across them he would see only gleaming mirage.

 

“I wanted him a life… Vladin wants him a life.  For the next seven hours he will be under drug influence.  Now, now, now… eventually under control.”  The general declared smugly.

 

Captain Micky Macdonald swayed, lunging for the lost power, step by step the energy was disappearing.  The body was left loose as the landed down with a force.  It landed above the body of his wife.

 

“Now the drug had taken effect for all those hours.  By then he will found himself in the cage of fire.  Stupid… dress him up to look death.  At Cantona we will try to deform his face to look as if the moron is dead move and do it, quick! These other two bodies apart from leaving them here, they should be flown to Washington to be posted there for burial.”

 

The war of attrition was now on the wheels.  In all senses it will be the gods who will save this family from this charismatic figure; general Michael Diochev.  The whole room smelled blood.  The thunder, rumbling along the firmament, the lightening coming again and again a cross the sky, the clouds brushed the night as the lightening was reflected into the room consuming the electrical light inside.

 

The general flitted into the library that contained files of military books.  Turning madder, he started throwing everything within his touch along the shelves as if looking for something unknown.  For more than five minutes he rumbled in the library alone.  He came back, the silly silence ensued.  Toping to Micky Macdonald’s body, he turned it flat the face looking at the ceiling.  Touching his neck.”

 

“You are death, I will kill you after I have tortured you enough, get me!, you mother fucker! You will know me well at Severodviska.”  General Diochev clamored in a hushed voice.

 

General Michael, Diochev’s face had wried, sweat smeared it badly.  He stood abruptly like somebody who had sensed danger.” Where his son, bring him here.”  He ordered as he hobbled through the swinging door to the living room.  Miss Dinah, who was chagrining for what she had done, followed him.  The hijacking technology had taken exactly seventeen minutes by now, accelerating the general who is possessed by the spirit of war, torture, murder, robbing banks, killing police men, kidnapping and all evils to think about more scaring by anything conceived of by this Russian imp was to reign the human kind like wild beasts.  He believes what his minds want.

 

Captain Micky Macdonald was handcuffed not knowing that he was dealing with faceless terrorists from Russia.

 

Meanwhile as all was going on, the commandos who went to Macdonald’s sister’s room, they found her awake, very confused of what was going on., she sat on her bed clenching her bed sheets tight across her breasts.  She looked like in a maze.  Tear running down her cheeks freely.

 

“No… what have we done you sons of blood, leave us alone.  I ask you what do you want, eh?  Get out this is my room, you murderers, let…”  A hot fist bashed across her mouth before she had insulted them more.  Blood with saliva oozed through the mouth and the nose.  The woman went flat on the bed leaving her breasts only covered with a yellow-nylon transparent bra.  The two commandos stared at her wondering what to do next.  One commando move next to her temple pressing his damn ears to get whether the heart was pumping.

 

“Let us kill her, otherwise we will tell the general that she had a gun ready to shoot…’ okay” “Yah, shoot her or let me do it…” suddenly a wild sound of a gun shoot went up from Macdonald’s master room prompting the unconscious lady to life, languorously, she stretched like a wakening cat with speck of blood over her face.  She spun without a warning around the bed, down.

 

“Leave me alone… please” she whimpered, jumping from the bed towards the door. “Where are you going, you whore, come here.”  One commando hauled forcefully to his huge chest.  She stares at him with sadder eyes as tears washed down her soft cheeks.  He gave her a slap over her face that led her fumble for a bottle of water, which lay, on the floor.  Without notice, she picked it under churlish elate, within microseconds the bottled was smartly lashed across one of the commando who had slapped her.  The commando heard the bottle crushing his skull like a bursting bomb, the sound waved speedily into his brain nerves.  It went like if the brain had been evacuated from its shell.  The bottle glass shattered, cutting the skin deep.  An eruption of blood spread down his shoulders. He was badly injured, loosing balance; he staggered a bit to gain strength but no way, landed down unconscious.  The woman with a determined force, sprung towards the other soldier before he can realize anything.  Thanks for her gymnastic muscle skills, which, she was an expert.  Directing the gun muzzle of the command away from her way, she scooped on one knee, and cobbled his private part. The command screened like a virgin prostitute giving birth, holding still the gun with all that pain. She swirled to her left picking the broken bottle top. With force the bottle now edged was embedded squeal, cutting the fresh deep lastly stopped by the bones of his muscled neck.

 

As fate would have it, she had got a ticket for life for the next moment or her God of mercy would allow, she will live more for another time. The gun was eventually left at peace springing out of his fingers, as specks of blood piping down his heavy broad chest. It landed down with a sound. The commando followed it in suit landing across his fellow comrade forming across.

 

All this had happened so fast; the elimination of being within it is civilized country. The other commando who was not badly injured tried to make a move, pushing his comrades body away. The lady was badly stunned, looking surlier to what to do next. She lunged vigorously; tears flowing speedily down her cheeks nonstop. She was shuddered trying to force away the nightmare, for the hellish battle lay on front her. When she realized that the man was still alive.

 

“Please leave me alone! ... Help ---- me, they are killing!” As the cry went out, none spoke neither came for help. A proficient woman, she never waited for help, she picked the assault rifle from the floor, blenched, closing her eye and pulled the trigger.

 

“No ---!”She shrieked.

 

Two bodies were riddled with bullets when somebody from behind knocked her down.

 

Again she was the hag, evil woman who had done this. The general was from behind when they flowed in. Surprisingly before them two of the best commandos lay succumbed, in flood of blood. The general went furiously “what is going on......... four of my commandos are dead! How can this happen.” the general pouted turning blushed. He didn’t believe what was going on.” Let me kill her. She has done much to deserve death, sir” miss Dinah the queen of all evil blustered. The general held her back raising his killers hand up.” Where is the boy, I want the boy and now!. Go and fetch him wherever he is holed.” He ordered threat fully to the remaining four commandos to bring the boy, alive or dead.

 

Macdonald’s sister who had been knocked down gained consciousness she tried to rise but she failed up. The general swatted her hard kick over her knee. The pain inflicted electrified her up.

 

“You want to kill all of us, okay go forward to commit it, with the boy, he is not here.”

 

“You bastard, can you tell me where the boy is, before I do away with your shapeless body is!” he pounced, considered and added on a cold painful breath, giving her smacked slap which made her mad, staggering off the door, lounging over the threshold. The general gave way glaring at her, shaking his head decisively with vindictiveness. The general’s self-proclaimed bodyguard, Miss Dinah blocked her way out. “Excuse me, can you show us where the young man is?” “Who are you to command me? You prostitute” she was staring at her stupidly as she yelled like a bulldog, you can mark where tears had run down both of her cheeks and had left a wet trek, for she was not now sobbing, very weird for what was cooking up within.

 

“If you are not going to co operate, your guru will determine your future...okay? “She said kindly as the blood of her fellow, American flew within her nerves. She felt it but she can’t do anything to stop this as the infernal blood of the doomed world. With steel white eyes, she gazed at her shrewdly as Miss Dinah the queen of ghosts held the assault rifle on her face.

 

The other commandos were sailing like the cursed servants, searching every square of an inch for the big laddie. The general realizing that it was no good to waste time with this hopeless woman, he stood back smoldering, suddenly a suspicion conquered upon the general’s troubled mind. “Comrades we are now fucking off, this FBI will be flying in this direction. Let us do away with this awkward woman............ Take out the four-slained comrades and that moron into the cars. Do it quick, time catching up.” The general blustered with his raucous, martyred, thunderous, threatening voice of the heathen gods of sodomy.

 

Macdonald’s sister by now cowered like a worm which had sensed danger with her chin pressed tightly against her knees, her weak arms wrapped around her head at the far corner of the living room, sobbing loudly after realizing the dead of her family.

 

“Why did you kill them, ... You murderers, motherfuckers, assassins kill me also!” she shrieked bitterly along the tears which kept flowing steadily. “Shut- up!” was a swift martyred reply from Miss Dinah, who whacked her with a kick over her mouth squashing it badly; the sounding kick flattened her on the floor.

 

Kabason, after ceiling board. Taking a good view what was going on from the attic. The adroit boy held all the aghast evils within his mind. He had no power to defend his family. He made a will to move down to the gateway window to go away from this scene. He flung down to the window wrenching the lock without a sound He had to go through this window although so dangerous but infinitely direct to survive. He must use it to escape godamn place of death. There was a slight tiny, blunt sound of a glass made a mistakable, destroying sound. As he twisted the lock, breaking it. The gateway was open. The sound made distinct waves, undisturbed directly and dislodged into the fucking nuts. The sister of Mickey Macdonald heard first. The general heard the commotion the other comrades heard everything. She glanced at them expecting them to leave him alone. The general maintained their breath to hear before they can strike.

 

“No.... leave him to go, leave him to live more a time.... Please!” The lady cried out as she stood with force, running towards the door firmly. The comrades led by the general himself never allowed these to happen. He must get the boy, whom he had lost hope to get. He never told her to give way but the bullet did. Spraying seven bullets into her chest. As the bullets plunged into her chest mercilessly, still she had no option but to warn him for the last time, the only chance she had for the young man who she loved so much.

 

“Kabason run...run, run! This was her last breath forever and ever on this dreadful planet. She came down the door. She printed seven broad lines of blood as she rested peacefully to her left. The general hasted past the corpse. He kicked the door into pieces, rendering the door breakable. Its pieces swung open directing his men to the attic.

 

“Get him, never make a mistake of not shooting that rat. Two commandos move out to prevent his from life. Quick men! Useless”. He said as he tumbled to the corridor heading up to the balcony, miss Dinah followed him without mention.

 

Kabason was sheeted up by the shooting of his aunt the fire inside him was ignited, the fear within him vanished he was held within the dread tentacles of terrorists. The young man hesitated to jump down. He made a decision of life, to escape from death. The voice of escape came up form his dying aunt to run and run away far. He jumped, landing down in fours, like a wild cat.

 

A terrible shooting noise followed him. He glances around for the escape route. The second bullet was shot towards his direction across the bedlam; he wallowed for cover along the bungalow high walls. It was raining badly, within seconds he was soaked to the skin. The cyclone rain smoldered his long hair down the shoulder blades defining his huge square head perfectly. He shrugged vigorously as his thoughts quested for any possible escape. Turning to the left as if he had been cornered within a walled ditch, by the mad cops out to capture him for execution. Kabason must live tomorrow. Over his right the human horse beckoned him to take him far, far from this notorious murderous. The horse overpowered his dumped brain that was whirling in a doomed environment. As the killers were flanging the door with their heavy destroying boots, they made kabason to jump to the decision of using the angel horse. The horse was there waiting for him. Tears never stopped and will never stop. The bitter tears of fear the slaying of his loved family, just in front of him. Is it a nightmare? Why taking so fast. He never believed but he will not wait

To believe kabason started off towards the horse, striding to the opposite side that the monsters followed. He didn’t wait for anything, not even the glance of their grand house now infected by unknown aggressors, murderers, assassin who by now occupied it within their territory of psyche killing and they were not allowed or wanted near it.

 

Kabason lunged towards the horse. He took a long hop proficiently onto the horse’s back, mounting it like a monkey. The horse angel raised a war cry, twirled steadily and pranced off. The horse looked wild and strong and vaguely hurt as it kicked on with force the commandos lost its prey. Bullets went wild to their direction thunder confused every scuffle, releasing fear and braveness to every creature in this carnage. The commandos tried to follow them but the horse was too fast for them as it zigzagged through the forest, away from the foe and far. Shots followed dangerously whizzing closely as the horse sprinted. The hurricane storm maintained the scene of battling as men and the angel horse went madder. Lightening was at peace with them, giving them maximum light to take their steps away. None among all the wild beasts were under drug or steroid influence but they were driven by fear, always. 

 

Kabason was a prowess son of a soldier; he was now a super boy keeping his head down the horses back for the click in his neck was normal. They were chasing the wind, shoving his arms nearly dislocating his shoulder through the forest. The tail of the horse faced up like the medieval torch of night-battle. The commandos lost hope, returning more defeated to their general.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Although it was extremely cold exaggerated by the tormenting rain, Kabasons heart was pounding steadily producing enough heat equilibrium to the chilly temperature outside, thus the temperature was maintained for their own survival. Kabasons enigma grew with envy not believing what was going on.

 

“Move stallion......... go, they are still following us.... go, go! The killers are getting us.” Kabason chided to the horse lashing its back with his hand as it impelled on and on. From behind he felt that they were following him by his conscious to escape. They ploughed through, flashing off the rainwater from the branches, making it through like shit. They sprouted out, conquerors, born form the thick plantation. Again a head of them laid an open land stretching far to the horizon without any bush, definitely an animal range. It was nearly three-morning hour as the storm was vanishing back to where it had come from; the cold breeze was coming in wild wind rattling with the clouds speedily away to the east. The clouds as if they had come to witness the incursion as they carry out their operation, were now chasing each other away from the scene. Their rushing was accompanied by rumbling, roaring of thunder, flashed by long waves of lightening. The rain was stopping quickly oozing from the dull sky. The wind closed the dirty game pushing everything from the scene of chastises.

 

On the ground little water was left without an option of escape only the horse’s feet disturbed the unfortunate ones bashing them into splashes, trampling with booming break mixed with haze producing a fume like the dragon breathing fire; a horse across the empty universe. Suddenly  its forelegs stumbled into hole misbalancing it badly. It tried to gain balance by using its stalwart power; its high speed overpowered it as its huge body spun around within microseconds it was landing down. Kabason lost control; he had no time to think what had happened again. The animal landed down, splashing water and kabason from its surface. The laddie landed onto the hard earth, writhing into unconscious. The stalwart animal, as strong an always rolled powerful and heaped itself up. It glanced around and tottered to its rider very rankled, who was laying more than four yards away. Stepping next to him, the angel horse behaved as if it was smelling life from him. Bowing its head to Kabason’s face. It rose abruptly, stunned and darted around for an enemy. It raised its head up to the heavens and a thunderous trumpet blew up through its dragon skull. The destroying cry echoed down the valley consuming the entire surrounding escaping to the sky. The lightening struck making the two figures to be pronounced clearly across the dark night storm. Before the reply of the echo from the heavens, the horse twirled around to where it came from, it kicked off.

 

The laddie was left down there languishing within the lonely world, no trees around, no insect within, no the angel horse, no any person to help and now; no life. The horse surged, fighting the great darkness back home for help. The second fiercely lightening come across the face of Kabasson flashing him, the light shoved into his nerves, traveling quickly inside and lodged into the tender brain. Like a person who is possessed by genie powers. He suddenly heaped himself up darted around, his mind white blank very confused by the state within. The darkness was tense although now trying to disappear to the far western horizons. He was not gasping to a dream or a mirage, darting for an intruder his fingers searching any touchable object for defense, thinking that the enemy was within. The endless nightmare was holding him tight. He felt his blood hit his thoughts with alluvial coldness, his thoughts grew with wrath when his aunts shrieking was reflected back to his senses, to run and run far, far away for the tormentors. He cuddled himself with a seating position wondering what actually was going on. The memory of his family’s conflagration waxed permanently through his brave mind… shoving through his body like an electrical wave. He can recall vividly how his mother hugged him to bed. He can still feel the warm touch his father. Just the other hour he was with his family and now all of them have been slaughtered, totally unbelievable, untrustable, why was the world against them. He cursed the night to hell and he cursed the human race, the wild race. The thought was gleaming through his thoughts. He was so terrified with the events going on. He tried to stand but his knees were jittering badly. He failed to make any move from where he was stumped by the horse. He sat there frozen and transfixed without knowing what actually was going on. The temperature by now had fallen tremendously to negative seven degree centigrade, making him to shiver a lot, wearing only a long trouser jeans and a blue duffel coat without a shirt from inside, which had been decolorized with mud.

 

The arsonists have done it so fast for any human being to believe. It had left behind a sorest wound that will never heal up. A wound made from a high reactive acid. The wound had been planted to this young man, kabason mercilessly. His fate will determine its healing power, but will he ever heal up, he had recognized suicide at the first glance when his father came home. The fear that engulfed his family when his father came home was well received by everybody. Yes even the night will be accused for the role it has played to the killing of his family, it had never rained like this before or if so, not Kabasoni’s times. Tears ran like a poison down his cheeks as the day was coming up. He tried to think but his thoughts were blank as he dosed over. A sweet dream conquered him; his mummy working at the flower garden as his aunt mowing the grass. The dream was so sweet, jogging together with his father towards their loved town, Cave Davi . He saw his mother cautioning him to take are and never to trust anybody. All were dreams to comfort him from this. Some were guiding dreams and others were damn awkward.

 

The morning dry wind whizzed through the rattling tall grass to the west as a golden like cotton clouds reflected from the distance. The morning coming as the mist was disappearing. At a distance a beautiful house was reflected by the early morning sunshine. The house stood alone with a 01 BMW x 54.41 parked near the front door. The house peeped through different types of fence flowers. The flamboyant compound released ascent wonderful, sweet smell from the flower petals. The house lay at a lower point from where Kabason slept. He was sleepy as if he was at home with the entire family, looking very solemn like somebody who is used with it’s environment. The sun made up from the east as usual and never late. The morning was looking very clear, ready to serve its masters. The day once more was coming. The sunshine flashed wildly to him, like any beast at the range, to give him a bit of warmth at least.

 

A clear foot walk was clearly marked from where Kabason slept descending down to the house. The foot walk went down and twisted to the west of the house, gaining its direction to the mansion, definitely used by a horse the compound had an iron gate with Korean decoration. On its pillars two powerful electrical bulbs were mounted. The compound was enormously huge, covering over two acres. Different types of flowers covered most of the compound. A horse can be seen tied at a post near the upper fence relatively taking the morning grass dew. The modern BMW motor stood with wide powerful wheels as if it was made to stand there pinkish, extremely matching with the surrounding. Everything looked dearly expensive. The mansion was painted yellow, dominating with white lines around the windows. The roof was covered with red – iron sheets with Germany trademarks. Two meters away from the house at its west side a swimming pool was properly selected and planted there, surrounded by aroma evening plants imported from South Arabia, properly. The house protruded two long chimneys, yellow painted.

 

It was eight-morning hour, when the balcony window was opened. Slowly, its curtains were thrown to each side. A blond woman of around late forties pooped she stretched weakly squeezing her eyes roughly. At the far distance of her range she scanned fiercely to something that looked to be a man or an animal.

 

“Hey Betty, get me my binocular………. Quick” she blared.

 

“Where are the keys to the library? I don’t see them in the wardrobe”.

 

“Check them over the kitchen table or at my bed soon’ there is a sinister image over our hill top, an animal or somebody spying on us.” She said enthusiastically fixing her wondering eyes without a blink. Quickly the young girl brought the binoculars The inconspicuous lady, with a splendid, rounded figure with mass of lock ebony hair curled down to her shoulder and exquisite camellia skin very madding attractive dotted with a delicate little nostrils, grabbed the binoculars with force. The woman glared once with her liquid eyes before she locked the binoculars across her glistening eyes. The young lassie of around fourteen years old, for none knew when she was born, lounged next to her godmother. The image of Kabason landed across the binoculars.

 

“Betty I can see a young man curling himself on the ground with his head resting over his knees. He looks to be very flustered or out of his mind. He had been out with the last night storm seemingly or he had been vandalized but how come he arrived at this inertial country side”.

 

“Mom please give me the binoculars, I would like to see him also”. Betty said turning her eyes to her.

 

“You are disturbing me Betty, just a moment I am giving you…. Take it cool babe, I want to learn something about him before I strike.” She bleated assuring Betty. presence

 

“Mm –hm you don’t want to share any fortune you get. I am going to prepare breakfast” she grumbled ready to withdraw away.

 

“Betty, get it” she gave her the binocular already adjusted.

 

“I can’t see anything, please adjust for me.”

 

“I know you don’t know how to use the instruments, try to adjust yourself first I am thinking about something different” the old lady who looks very kind although she was extremely dangerous and a good thinker. Her eyes were beaming as an horrifying, chilly memories flashed through her thoughts. She was troubled who this man was and what he was doing there .Her heart was pounding strongly as her brain was whirling for an answer.

 

“Betty, I am going there to see who this man is. Lock my bedroom and hide the keys under your bedding. Okay?” Yap!”

 

She bristled off to her private store. Turning the knob with shivering hands, the store’s door sprung open. In the room there were many types of dangerous weapons neatly arranged and well whisked she bent on her knees selecting the machine gun mounted with a powerful binocular. She cooked it with fury, as she gazed through its aiming point. Her mind was blaming with ideas of what it is this man was doing at her range.

 

“Don’t allow anybody in. I am coming back within thirty minutes” she was gasping for a breathe, clutching her machine gun. She stood there very erect, bravely, out to see what this man was up for at her range. She had no time with trespassers.

 

She jostled through the backdoor and hurried along the large specula lobby. She hesitated a bit reducing her movement abruptly. Twirled back to the mansion, back to the balcony window to see whether the man was still there aiming her machine gun using the binocular on it, her victim came into focus without any error. With wrath, she turned with a clutched fist. She barked through the other door. At the front porch, she took the option of using the horse. All it is time, she kept darting around incredulously, for the last eleven years now in this farm which was her only world, none had been sported there.

 

The proficient, notorious woman took quick steps, to the horse, within seconds she had mounted it. She rode it as if she was out for a great war. The horse pranced with power, striding over the Iron Gate making a bend to the footway.  Like a trained rider she rode up the raised land along the tall grass, where her victim will not notice the movement. She jumped down from the back of the horse reducing any view from the surrounding; she tied the horse to the nearby bush. Taping the horses at its belly, she wallowed away towards where Kabason sat innocently not aware that he is again being trailed.

 

The sunshine was burning through a high overcast; it was approaching nine, still Kabason lodged within is own world. The woman wore a tight black jeans with a black blouse celled with a blue hand-weaned sweater her hands were covered by black gloves. Her mass of ebony locks confirmed her to a middle-aged cherub chatting with the prince of war. She intruded swiftly like a snake scrolling to catch its prey. Silently she lay flat aiming her machinegun to her victim. She decided to shoot at onc3e and forget everything but an instinct directed her to face the man without fear. Taking her lethal knife tight in her left hand, with her right hand holding the assault rifle backward. She was wading through the tall grass, taking every step careful without causing any alarm. She can now recognize the young man clearly, who seemed to be held in a weird situation.

 

Unearthly, she spun like an eagle when an owl launched itself out of the tall grass just a cross to her. She was frightened like shit, gaining her energy; she continued to wade forward to her target. She by now sensed that this scrawny unkempt young man had been here throughout that cold emptiness of stormy night. At about two yards away from him, she can count some struggle of an animal, definitely a wild horse. Kabason was not aware that another intrusion was right at his throat; his tired mind was now in the vacuumed world.

 

The gun’s muzzle rested on the forehead of kabason with her left hand raised strongly holding the lethal knife tightly. The young man disturbed by the touch on his face. He suddenly opened the bloodshot dry eyes. The figure in front of him, threw him far into wilderness. He went berserk, he was badly confused for another diabolical ghost just in front of him. Rumbling on where she stood trembling and giggled.

 

“Who are you and what are you doing here? This is entirely my private farm........ you are trespassing, you burger.” She mumbled angrily with a scowl face. The face turned more grimly. Kabasson had been caught now, nowhere to escape to. Nothing he can do now as tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

“Please let me go ...... I beg you to forgive me. Don’t kill me please, I beg you to “He said.

 

“I asked you, who are you, tell me and now!” she chided her strong boots grinding, Kabason’s sports shoe hard, transmitting deep to his flesh.” My name is Kabason, my family members were murdered yesterday night and I escaped here.”

 

“Where is your home from here?” she asked.

 

“I don’t know, but we stay few.... or one and a half kilometer away from Cave Davi... Please let me go.”

 

“Now where are you heading to from here?”

 

“I don’t know, they might be following me. Form behind coming to kill me.”

 

“No! Listen, does it mean you walked for all those seventeen miles from Cave Dave to this place?”

 

“I escaped with our horse.”

 

“Where is the horse?” She asked keenly glaring at him, “I don’t know where,” he murmured with fear in within. The woman had mistaken him to be a spy out to commit something. But she came to realize that the young man was in great danger and he needs protection.

 

“Stand back I will take you back.”

 

“No! I am not going back, they killed my mum, my father was also shot to dealt by those murders.. I will not go back for they will also kill me. Let me go away from here” kabason barked, tears rolling down his cheeks. He has envied all human beings. She can notice something obnoxious twerp with serious reasoning deficit, he totally confused .The torture within his mind was enough to drive him to commit suicide. She had to do something to help him. He kept his head down with his hairy legs pumping the ground non rhythmic.

 

“Kabason behave like a man, let us go I will bandage you knees before you go.” she insisted solemnly as she took his right hand assisting him to stand. He was too weak to resist, looking at her dubiously, he heaped himself up assisted by her. His knee ached when he tried to stretch it.

 

“Try to walk a bit.... just try, yah like that, strong the horse is down there to take us home.” She requested him solemnly.

 

“No, they will get me here!” he nibbled and watched her intently with glistening ball-eyes.

 

“Then, stand here, I am going for the horse... Will make it for one minute to save place. Kabason I know you are strong, maintain this position until I come back.” She said, engaging away from him, leaving him standing with one leg. Much of his body had bruises inflicted by the orange branches when they were running away form the incursion. The memory of his family waxed permanently within his minds making his eyes. Glancing around like an eagle looking for its female mate.

 

The woman propelled down the valley like a damned catholic sister who is going to nurse her fellow father. She came back within minutes ridding high on the horse. The machine gun was held by her strong left hand, the left one controlled the horse. The horse headed straight to where Kabason stood. The iron lady sprung down as they approached where Kabason was.

 

“How will I be fine here while I saw my whole family being slained by those terrorists. “Eh-? Please tell me.”

 

“I know how we will handle it. Get me clear; you will be comfortable here. Kabason I will protect you from those murderers.”

 

“How, when they mugged us, like beasts. They were many and they had powerful guns for me I don’t know how to use a pistol and you expect me to be safe from those assassin’s.” He said almost giggling his legs had swelled terribly as the sun was barely up.

She took his arm assisting him to mount over the horse. The woman felt some indefinite awkwardness that made her furious. She was blanched as a bitter memory thrashed through her mind. Assuming, she mounted from behind Kabason and the horse was impelled off down the valley, the horse rolled down as if it carried nothing. She kept quite as her thought whirled at actually what had happened with this young man.

 

“I have never been in this place.”

 

“Still it is cave Davi, but we are at its end side. I bought this piece of land over ten years ago. I decided to be here alone from the other worlds. I really hate this planet so much, that is why I had decided to stay alone and far away from any man kind.” She nibbled and kept watching him from behind. The horse ceased at the gate, she jumped down to open the gate. Kabason kept darting about not knowing really who this woman was. It swung open; she directed the horse by its strand to the front porch.

 

The mansion door was opened by a young spindly gaunt little girl; with sharp brown little eyes behind a black horn rimmed glasses. She was extremely beautiful with delicate little nostrils, her full rounded breasts clearly pronounced through her cotton white vest with nubby points of her nipples; all witnessed her structure. Her hair was in ponytail boring her perfectly as she is supposed to be. The image standing on the threshold poured bubbles of rainfall love to Kabason’s thoughts. At least oiling him a bit. When she smiled to her godmother, her teeth flashed to the heavens.

 

“Hi mommy who is that, is he sick? Can I come down to help you?”

 

“Yah, come and take away this horse from here and tie it where it was.” She chirped as she was helping Kabason down. Betty sailed down the stairs like a butterfly, her witch’s eyes stroke tenderly towards him.

 

“Get it away my daughter, what are you looking at? Betty can you move out and come quickly to help me bandage his damaged knee.” She beamed while they ambled into the house. Betty like the war queen mounted the horse as if to impress the visitor that she knew how to ride the horse than anybody on this heathen world. He flew off like a dragon eagle leaving behind a trail of dust. Her blouse propelling from behind her like the war flag of Alexandria the great. Yes the red flag.

 

“You will soon be okay Kaba, I am going to dress you okay. You can now sit here.” She said as Kabason held back the tears.

 

The house was extremely big. It smelled a home to stay, but a home not far away from his tormentors. She moved to her private room, coming back carrying a basin half filled with water and a gauze putting them on the table next to him with her leaking smile forcefully thrown on him. He never replied and will never do it with this state he was wading through she went back again returning with a first aid kit plus the mentholated spirit.

 

“Stretch your legs properly, yap... that way.” She mattered solemnly. She had some difficulties on putting the surgical gloves. “I am going to cut off your trouser at the knee high if you don’t mind.”

 

“I don’t have any trouser to wear apart from this one.” Kabason said.

 

“In the evening we will go together for shopping”.

 

“No please I am not going there, they will kill me, they are still there.” Kabason protested wittily she fixed her blue liquid eyes on him. She can read the secret sorrow through his mind. She can feel the experience of torture across his eyes. She tried to overcome it but her courage was thrown away by the flow of tears form her wondering eyes. She realized too late when she saw the effect across Kabason’s face. She pretended that she had left something behind and stood getting away to her room.

 

“Right you will remain here a bit.” Let me go for cotton wool. I am coming hold here a bit.” She whimpered fixing her eyed on the floor. She walked away grimly towards her bedroom. Throwing herself over the bed, sobbing badly. Her eyes were swallowed by a web of squint lines as the memory of condolence experience she had gone through, the slaying of her sister and her lover. She spread herself over the big bed like a bat flying along a dark funnel. Her legs wider open, which spread with her hands well pinned all around her hair forming unburning flame across her beautiful head with closed eyes.

 

Betty was floating speedily to the house. She was yanking her way through the front porch when her witch’s eyes cocked with Kabason’s. Her fragrant perfume of love and caring was sprayed. Without a word, she slowed her pace to a chameleon like. Her palms locked together as if the next minute she will go down to pray for the Almighty God to forgive those who had afflicted the pain to this handsome, good natured creature. She gazed at him as her legs tottered around Kabason to his back like she was going to spell a blessing spirit to him. Her hands landed carefully softly on Kabasons hair, picking a red and blue colored little petal, which stung into his lock. She stared at it, studying it how beautiful the little flower clenched between her fingers. Kabason raised his weak head slowly to witness what actually was going on. His eyes tentacled together with her sharp brown eyes. The wave of everlasting love was lodged through the space. All was done as Kabason returned his gaze towards his injured leg.

 

“What is your name and where do you come from young man?” the question came out smoothly. Kabason took time to answer her. He wanted to evade the question but he sighed.

 

“My name is Kabason and I come from Dave Davi, have you been there?”

 

‘’Yo, I have been there several times, even yesterday evening I drove there to do some shopping. It is a beautiful growing town. One day I will have a house there “ she said with her right hand middle finger rolling her hair strand around it.

 

“I was vandalized last night when I was running away from home with my horse through a plantation of orange trees “Kabason said.

 

“Huh! ... I am sorry Kaba. Mommy will make you feel okay. She is a good nurse.  Will I bring for you a drink?’ She requested absently.” No! Thanks, you haven’t told me your name.” Call me just Betty, don’t have another name she shuddered dramatically moving in front of him.

 

“Where had mommy gone:”

 

“She told me she has gone to bring the cotton wool nearly the time you entered in.” It was ten thirty afternoon hour when suddenly Betty heaved up, granted walking briskly to her godmother’s bedroom.

 

“Mommy, where are you?” she called, flitting straight into the bedroom, without even knocking the half way closed door. Her noisy steps woke her up; she had been asleep without knowing how long she had been there.

 

“Uh-uh! I am feeling so awful, go and prepare something strong for us.” She blurtered out lingering stretched her muscles off.

 

“But why can’t you go and dress him. He is in pain. Come mommy and do it, I am going to prepare something sweet today for our visitor, so delicious mm-hm “she mumbled carrying her bones and flesh away to the kitchen.

 

The afternoon sun was boiling and the effect was waved into the house, although conditioned.  She felt the affection as the propelled to the refrigerator for the iced water. Bending with some uneasiness within her knees, she picked the iced water rattling and then drained to the last drop, throwing the plastic container into the waste basket, walked to the sitting room where she had left kabason for more forty minutes.

 

Oh, Kabason, I am sorry being late. I know you will understand how I feel... really sorry. I even forgot what I went for.” 

 

“You said you were going for cotton wool.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with me. Let me go for it.” She said morosely as she took off. Fate of hunger stirs through the experience that Kabason was involved producing a shock that blanketed her mind. Her brain was whirling like lightening flashing on and off on her trails of life and adventure.

 

She came back carrying on her left hand a white cotton wool and ointment, wearing a white apron like a trained undertaker out for an operation without informing him; she started doing away with the long trouser at the knee height. Cutting it around.

 

“Take off you shoes, or leave it. I will help you, just relax there” she said pulling off the wet shoes producing a bad odor she threw them in to the waste basket together with the pieces of cloth.

 

“I know it is painful, but you can control it like a man. Gotta it like a man?”

 

“Year, I will try to be calm” he said bravely. She immediately started working on the wound using the cotton and the antibacterial ointment slowly. There was a torn   cartilage at his knee. Blood started coming out cleaning it with a white bandage, she poured ice on it, lastly taping the wound with the gauze to the scalp. The wound was perfectly bandaged without any problem.

 

“Now within a matter of time, you will be alright you need time to rest.”

 

“Thanks a lot, I feel no much pains. At least now I will go.”

 

“Not now, you need first to rest before we decide what will be done next.” She sheered walking away from him with her first aid kit and the wastebasket. Shortly she returned back.

 

“Come to the dine room. I know you need something to eat.” 

 

“I don’t feel like taking anything at this hour, only to have a short rest,” Kabason said.

 

“Just a little drink for the sake of your health she insisted solemnly. Taking his hand. By now he can even manage to walk on his own.

 

Betty was busy arranging the dine room with trays of different flesh drinks each mixed to exact specification. Kabason collapsed on the chair with a hip.

 

“What do you prefer, Kaba?”

 

“Dunno, if you have a strong black coffee. I really like it. “He said fixing his eyes on the table. Betty filled the cup without spilling any drop, pushing it to him. He took it with a lot of easiness, sipping the coffee, he tried to shake the thoughts that bombarded his head about the death of his family but failed, it was soared beyond repair.

 

“Kabason, I know you do not know my name, if you don’t mind call me Kournikova or,......... Betty what other name can I give him, uh? “She said with humour as Betty gave a fun look towards her almost as Kabason. On her front, a large bowl of goulash soup sat.

 

The young lassie concentrated much of her time staring stupidly at him; He raised his pumped tired head across the forgiving fate of the two Samaritans. He was more confused, finding himself at a state of no compromise. He needs a lot of rest and to be alone; Miss Kounikova can notice all this.

 

After doing away with Betty’s drink, she moved to her bedroom, none guessed what she was after. The iron lady of all times, holding a powerful brain, which needs to computerize hard particles, moved out with her full rounded body defined beneath a clinging blue red-stripped jersey dress. Her movement was governed by the state of saddling with the burden of keeping him coming back with a glass of water; on her palm she held three tablets.

 

“Kaba, I want you to take some tablets to reduce pain and the high pressure level you are experiencing... alright?

“Huh, alright Kounikova, are you going to cave Davi to see what they did to my family, please!”

 

“Yes, after you have taken the tablets and promising me that you will not move out of this compound until I return back.” She said slouched off with a defiant smile on her lips.

 

The tablets dooms the body for eighteen hours sleeping she knew that she had lied to this young man but it was the only way to bring down and reduce the high tension within him. She glanced at him as if she had given him a dangerous poison. The spray of merciful intense red colours stung her face and nearly immediately the spirit of ignorance submerged the feeling.

 

Kabason gazed at the three white tablets now on his palms. He wondered what a strange, good female she is. The three tablets beckoned him with glittering colour to be swallowed. The looked at them once and hauled all into the already oval mouth. The tablets landed as they were pushed down the throat by water. Kournikova felt the effects of the drugs as they were traveling down the gut. The alcoholic strong tablets will take effect very soon, dosing him in the next several hours, may be, may be not by tomorrow midday if his body was strong enough.

 

“Come and I show you where to rest, to allow the tablets to work, very soon you will be out of pain.” She said with a shaky voice.

 

“Why can’t I just stay here at the sitting room? I’ll be comfortable right here on the sofa.”

 

“I have already prepared for you somewhere comfortable only for ten minutes... just come Kaba.” She begged him as she moved to get him. Suddenly without insisting anymore he heaved himself up as she held his left hand, directing him away to the bedroom that was once used by Betty. Betty held her breath staring steadily onto him with glittering eyes. She stood leaving the bowl of goulash soup, watching them across the dine room as they were railing off. She followed them dumbfound, her short squat body lumbering left to right rhythmically.

 

Miss Kournikova jostled the door as they chained into the room that was comparatively the same as that of Kabason had at home.

 

“You can rest for a short time here as the drugs are working onto the pains. I know you will be fine.” She said.

 

“Woe! At least I can rest a bit. I apologize for the disturbance I have brought here, Madam. Just forget about everything KouniKova. I am really sorry for my status.” He mumbled solemnly. All this time, Kournikova was gazing at him with her arms intertwined across her breast like the statue of the Roman prosecutors of thirty-seven A.D.

 

“No please Kaba, I am concern about your health, get over the bed and get a rest,” she said and Kabason cocooned into the bed. As Kabason jumped into the bed they plowed out respectively.

 

“You stay here I am going to Cave Davi for shopping don’t move away form here you stay upstairs. If any stranger will be seen here you call me using the cellular phone. Don’t allow anybody in at whatever costs. Are you getting me right Betty! Nobody to be allowed to this house, not even the cops”. She delivered the words with exaggerated gravity as her eyes turned red Betty was soaking every bit of information like a cotton wool soaking blood, her fingers chained together on front of her thighs, staring at her with a mild of power on her words.

 

“I have given him some tablets which will maintain him until tomorrow.”

 

“Wow! You mean he will be sleeping until tomorrow? Mommy please don’t do that.”

 

“It is good for his health he is having some psychological defects, afflicted from the killing of his family. He needs a lot of rest to reduce the tension. Bethy I know you can understand the situation he is going through.” She said lamely, swaggering away to her mistress room. Her conscience was dissecting her, the whiff of premonition growing minute after minute, trailing her firm behind carelessly, she banged the door behind her. Peeling off her tightly cloths and wore her favorite traveling outfit, a brown cut-off jeans, a black T-shirt with a black leather jacket mostly worn by Canadians, sensibly burgundy shoes and a shell –pink button down raincoat completed the assemble. She jerked her cobra like head towards the wardrobe, she forged herself down selecting a powerful Germany made small charter arm 0.38 caliper special, mouthed with a silencer, shoving it into her leather jacket to remain there unless absolutely necessary when the going went sore for her physical guard. A woman who had traveled a lot, the woman who had survived for long in the hands of killers, the lady who conquered the mighty men of all times, running away without trace. She was a shelled phantom within the floods of evil. Yes; she can recall all the activities within the underground worlds, the emptiness of lightness.

 

Kournikova pooped at the entrance porch looking like a queen of the Persian medieval worrier, staring around with sense of hidden danger. Her posture was amazingly strange with her black rumpled coat immaculating her exactly what she is. A dangerous woman on her hand she held the keys to her swift 01 BMW X 54.4I car. Loosely at her right fingers she hooked the duffel bag. Lastly she released her slender, nicely molded legs off to her car. Inserting the key to the front door, it opened. She adjusted the rearview mirror and started the engine, mashing the accelerator and the wheels afflicted, tossing the earth within its touch. The vehicle reversed and she swung the steering wheel off to Cave Davi.

 

Miss Kournicova was a psychologist by profession; she did her doctorate in psychology at the soviet military diplomatic academy the brain tip of Stalin the great. Her life since she was twenty years old had been tampered mostly by the influence of money and blood thirst until her revolution of human hood. Involved in the most dynamic evil which even her stalwart brain can’t hold. She had been involved in several civil revolutions, indulging in several dirty activities all around the world. Her evil minds struck on what actually happened to Kabason Macdonald purely. She was right; somebody is after murdering others, making other peoples families miserable. She decided to help Kabason at all cost.

 

The weather was changing speedily. The afternoon heat was disappearing as a terrible fog was rattling in, but the temperature was maintained at twenty one degrees centigrade as she approached the road block.

 

The FBI, Interpol, CIA and the American Military personnel swarmed the whole road, opposite, a building was smoldering. Three service men swirled to the car followed by another three FBI men. Miss Kournicava rolling the fore window speedily as if she was aware what the gentlemen wanted.

 

“Hi, madam, we would like you to have over your identification cards and your driving license immediately was a muffled request through his gray moustache of the Maybe, a coroner.  She took the purse, which was inserted, at her duffel bag.  Shoving out the documents well arranged as if she was aware of what will happen to her on the way, all faked.

 

“Excuse me Sir, what had happened here?” she asked consumed to be very concern or may be who knew the family very well.

 

“That is why we are here, did you yesterday pass through here?” “No, I have not, only four days ago.”

 

“How far do you stay from here?” one FBI with a file across his palm asked, writing the vehicle’s registration numbers.

 

“Seventeen kilometers from cave Davi to my home.”

 

“Are you staying alone or you have a family?” he asked goggling through his dark spectacles.  She was stunned on what to answer.  Her wits mind warned her not to take time to answer them.  Without knowing she hard herself saying.

 

“I stay with my daughter, Betty, fourteen years old.”  She delivered the words with fear within.  Before late, she gave them a leering smile.  Both of her hands intertwined comfortably over the steering wheel.

 

“We are sorry for derailing you here for long.  We are investigating the incident which took here yesterday night.  You are free to go.”  The FBI man beamed as he strangely, after all she had been involved to some more scowling faces that these unused ones.

 

The car whizzed off to cave Davi.  On her rear view mirror she saw the man who interviewed her holding his hands at akimbo, glaring steadily as she drove off.

 

“Over three hundred militia men and soldier investigating the incident, this family must have been of a great value around here, or within the state… will this be the home of Kabason Macdonald?”  She murmured to herself staring fiercely as she was approaching the town.  She drove straight to the   

 

town watched her godmother as drove off. Making sure she had turned into vicinity she picked her saxophone and flew down the stairs to where Kabason slept like ababoon across the branches. The saxophone was made from pure glass; miss Kornikova bought it from Egypt three years ago. Since then Betty had become an expert at playing it when she is alone .Her godmother sometimes she is off for more than one month traveling around all over the world. None knew what she doe even Betty.  Kabason was her gift, somebody to stay with when she is out.  Pushing the door carefully, she peeked inside she stood at the threshold;; suddenly she tottered straight to him in such a shabby way.  It was her first time to see a very tremendous handsome creature before her.  His strange tender attractive skin haunted her strongly.  She felt with great delight, totally enraptured with the male being which lay somnolently as if forever.

 

“Wow, my gosh, how gorgeous he is!” she found herself quacking innocently without even realizing what she had said, moving slowly towards him.

 

“Let me touch you babe, you are dearly expensive Kabason. So attractive to admire.  You are mine, …Kabason “she muttered to herself earnestly with her smiling turning more grinning.  Putting her saxophone down on the red-carpeted velvet floor, she touched his face with a feather’s touch running her fingers up his lips.

 

“Wake up kaba… please wake up, I pray for you a sonnet poem before mummy comes.  Kaba why are you sleeping… wake up, I am alone.”  She cried out but Kabason was far and out for the next several hours.  She twisted his face tenderly, but there was no response.

 

“I will bring cold water to sprinkle on your face… I need you.”  She said and picked a cold kiss over Kabason’s lips.  Betty rushed out to the kitchen coming back with a glass full of water.

 

“Now I know you will listen to me kaba, with this…” she squeaked stupidly as she landed a drop on his face.  The drops touched the skin, rolled down to the mattress.  No response.  She tried again and again but Kabason was nowhere.  Lastly the last drop landed into his nostril traveling inside.  Kabason was damnly soaked to the skin.  She lost hope and started sobbing.  Picking her saxophone blowing it with force. A shabby, high tone landed fiercely.  She blew again, but she was not enjoying it as usual although always alone.  Kabason was deep at slumber.

 

She walked out languishing to where her godmother told her to keep watch.  Up the stairs alone as fate controlled her.  She felt lonelier than before, sitting on her bed, staring to the floor sleepily.  She crossed her long legs, pushed herself across the bed facing to the ceiling.

 

The doomed world of trance was beckoning her slowly, step by step her weak eyebrow crossed. On her left hand, hanging to the floor holding the saxophone, making a cross over the bed.  She slept.

 

Miss Kournikova smashed the accelerator swirling away to her ranch, with a whirling wind.  Her investigation will be stopped until tomorrow when Kabason will wake-up.  Several questions unanswered flashed through her troublesome mind, approaching home.  She drove straight to the parking lot.  She slugged out of the car, taking the luggage out, she locked the booth, shrugging a bit with some indefinite thoughts smoldering her intelligent.

 

“Betty! … Come down and open the door.”  She exploded out in a shed voice standing a akimbo at the front porch.  No reply come after calling several times.  Fortunately enough she had a spare of the main door key inside the car.  Fumbling into the car, she bustled with the key to the door.  The door jingled open.  She gyrated through the swinging door with her luggage, dumping them in the living room, returning, she locked the door.  She was badly annoyed by the behavior of Betty.  Flying up the stairs to Betty’s room.  She found her totally immersed in her own world.  She was embittered, as she was staring at her with both of her hands held across her bust; gazing at her left hand, the saxophone was graviting down to the floor.  A saxophone made of pure glass will land down into pieces.  Miss Kournikova flew like lightening, taking the saxophone less than one inch to touch the floor.

 

The expensive gift of Betty was safe for the third time or May be for the last time.  The uncertain exercise made her to sigh deep with a breath of life whilst her watching eyes were thrown on the sleeping lassie.  She felt how sometimes lonely the young girl, knew that the saxophone entertained her whenever she was alone.  The fury within her was replaced by the premonition and exhaustion still surrounding her as if forever.  She gazed at the floor to ready the stars of fortune.  Her stars were fading away to the far distance, distorted with red colours definitely of blood; officials of death.  The end of her destine, the fate was right.  She sprung up with force darting around the small cabin like a damned beast, the mother superior, the queen of monastery.  She rose, straight heading to Kabason’s room, leaving her alone.  Jostling the door open, her face turned graceless when she saw Kabason’s face soaked all over.  Very stunned.

 

“He is dead, what happened to him?” she cried out, throwing off the sheets leaving his body open like a copse going to be cremated.  Her ring hand fumbled into his temple whether actually he was dead or alive “Yah, the temperature and the blood pressure are normal, but how comes he is wet?” she asked herself as she glanced around the room.  Near the door, a glass of water was sported.

 

“Ah; what the blandly hell is happening around here?” she blushed, picking the glass with frenzy.  She clung the glass with her fingers; as she jumped up taking away to where Betty slept, entering without caring, she slammed the door.  The sleepy girl found herself quivering as if an atomic bomb had been dropped right on her car.

 

“Who did this ……… Betty, my daughter.” She asked with a shaky tone, moving steadily with her customary brisk and stiff walking style.  She went straight just in front of her.  The young lady for many years as far as she can recall, she had never seen her mother behaving like this.  Curling herself away from her tearfully folded her arms across her bust and pounded.

 

“Ma’am, promises you will forgive me first… just say you will not be annoyed.”  She mumbled with a wistful smile across her face.  She looked so oblivious and weak, so sorry.

 

“I promise I will not do anything Betty, now tell me what happened.”  “Okay, I waited for him to wake up but he never did.  I sprinkled water on his face but again it never fetched any good result, I played for him my saxophone, but he never listened to my best sonnet I usually play when you are away, I tried to cry for him to comfort me, but he never did, I am sorry ma’am.” “Is that all Betty, the whole full glass of water on his face? You did that, daughter”  “I will never do it again,” she said so melancholy.

 

“Yah, good girl and don’t do it again.”

 

“Yap, I wouldn’t,” she asserted sadly.

 

“Then let us go as and change his clothes and beddings.  “She said walking towards the kitchen.  She followed her imitating her wagging movement.

 

“Betty, will you …” as she turned around, the mimicking little lady pumped squarely over Miss Kournikova’s gyrating body, pushing her nearly down.

 

“What are you doing, are you crazy Betty? Why can’t you stop nagging me all the time.  You don’t know that you are now a grown up.”  Her voice shocked her like an electrical wave.

 

“No, it is you ma’am, I was just … from behind you.”

 

“I told you to behave, Betty are you getting me right, stop being an eccentric street girl.” She said with a horse high tone.

 

“And you move to the upper field to fetch the horse… now.”  The confused young miserable lady flew down the stairs like a horrified cat after it mouse.  She watched her as her unkempt hair went into flame towards the exit.

 

Out of the kitchen the wondering woman headed down to Kabason’s room with a napkin down her left shoulder.  Taking quick steps along the corridor to her patient.

 

“Jesus, she can mean to do all this.” She said with a weepy tone taking the pillow down to the floor.  She whisked him dry, changed his wet shirt with two weather blankets and a new shirt.  She laid him down like the ancient Egyptian mummy.  Muffling him with the weather blackest, she slugged off to the living room. Changing to the rear balcony facing the upper field where the horse was.  Drawing the curtain a bit as if she was spying around.  Her cruel itching stare were searching for Betty, who was ridding the horse across the upper field being reflected by the evening sun down like a red Indian nymph out for her gone boyfriend.  She was an expert as the horse ploughed through the tall grass like shit.  She admired that and liked the way she was doing it.  It was at this point when Kournikova’s memory of how she rescued the young girl from death flashed like an ulcer within her brain.  Yes, she recalled very clear on how a young baby girl was left in a sea of fire by her fellow demons on operation.  Yah, it was about fourteen years ago when they hijacked the Israel residential embassy in Germany kidnapping the Israel Ambassador in Germany after killing his whole family.  She was one of the terrorists who led the operation, daytime, for exactly thirteen minutes everything was smoldered.  She recalled vividly when she rescued the child who laid at her bed waiting to be a cremated a life by fire.  She taloned her; like an eagle, moving.

 

Running with her through the back door as the building went up in flame.  Dumping the baby inside the boot of the vehicle, which she was driving.  It was totally an abomination to be involved in that act.  The child’s fate was so powerful, for she had to live.  From behind she murdered several innocent children mercilessly, but this was different, she risked her life within their evil empire of death to save life.  She made it dropping the child at one of Berlin’s restaurants where the death convoy stood for a while.  And now the child had grown to be a very proficient and intelligent lady, even to handle herself alone.  Miss Kournikova named her Betty after an inscrutable murder of her sister by the same organization.  She is the child she will protect forever.  For Kabason, it also looks like the same, if he will be left alone, it will be the end of his short life on this damned planet.  Now she is protecting the two creatures.

 

Betty rode it down facing their house, real enjoying, as the haze was now more accumulating.  Through the haze, Betty was being reflected through it like the Napoleon sphinx statue out there like a spectra, the ghost of darkness taking the horse into the table.  Miss Kournikova admired her more, with the flashbacks there to stay in her thoughts forever.  Betty clumped into the house with a breath of a racing ostrich.

 

“Ma’am I have locked it, is Kaba fine?” she whimpered with some fear in between.  Threading straight to where Kabason was.  Pushing the door, entering easily.  Kabason lay there now four hours.  She didn’t touch him, with one glance she turned off to the kitchen.

 

“Ma’am you look tired and wilted, what is the problem, have I done something wrong.” “No, my darling daughter, you haven’t done anything wrong.  I have something to tell you or both of you.  My gut is really boiling, my dear, there is some activities whirling around Betty if anything happens here or with me you will be the one in charge of my account.  My future looks very short and dangerous” she said.

 

“Please mummy, I don’t understand what you are saying.” She insisted as she moved towards her.

 

“Betty, now I know you are a grown up, smart lady, the hour, I have been waiting for has come.  I will see tomorrow’s situation from Kabason before I strike or conclude on what to do next.”  She asserted stunningly with her stupor minds, overcooked for decades.  Her face turned grim bypassing Betty, swaying to the door.

 

“Betty can you cook something for supper… First prepare a strong black coffee for me, bring it to the study room.  It is late you need to be in bed by this hour.”  She said heading out of the kitchen like a conqueror surveying her empire.

 

Betty was left alone as the thick fog had engulfed the whole surrounding, very stunned, “Again I am alone.” She said to herself.  Through the large kitchen window, the moving wheezing fog turned the brave heart of Betty.  She felt total alone.  Miss Kournikova had gone to her private room, Kabason, the stranger, already without a defined future, lay as if forever.  She felt her fate being thrashed in the doomed world.  A girl who had been brought up like any wild animal, call it even a rodent.  Without any maternal care, Betty was by this hour cocooned in her own miserable private world.  She was living in the modern world but engulfed in the primitive medieval times, the early times when the living bodies were at an amoebic stage of evolution, and the thick mist covered the world.  The terror vigilantes of blood had influenced all this.  The wave of fear assisted from the changing weather caused a painful psychological tumor to this wondering young lassie.

 

“Betty … Betty!” she called her twice before she heard her.  The grumbling voice threw her berserk nearly pumping her down.  She stumbled with a great stigma as she swirled to way the sound was coming from, like a robot.

 

“Why are you puzzling, Betty! Are you at a maze?” She boomed out like a lioness in the jungle.  She walked towards her as a drop of sorrow was landing down.  “Don’t my daughter.” “I am not crying mom’” she froze.

 

Miss Kournikova smeared the running tears over her face and cleaned clear with her broad palm, bringing her cross to her bust and both were locked in the space of forgiveness.  Miss Kournikova knew that she caused Betty’s suffering.  She again recalled very well when they were sent from Russia to Germany to kidnap to kill Betty’s family, killing them all and were paid for the execution.  So many of her fellow terrorists members are now rotting in Scotland’s Glasgow’s tough Barlinnie prisons. Some of them are spectring all around the world.  The memory that she had tried to forget stuck on her like life.  Whenever she recognizes Betty in trouble all her past will falls back on her.

 

“Mom, I am okay, I am not feeling bad, only the scaring weather outside… that is all.  Let me make a good casserole, full of beef and noodles plus mushrooms aid a strong coffee for you mom, alright!” She groaned trying to cover her face with a smile.  Miss kournikova gave her a little, smug maternal grin full of evil thoughts.

 

Miss Kournikova, a trained psychological and psychiatric was as if she was looking through her minds.

 

“No, I will do that for you.  You like cartoons you can go and watch them, it is on, although the TV is not very clear or you can go and play your saxophone, I really like the way you play it.  Today you will entertain me.  Okay!!” “Okay” she answered rumbling down the stairs to the living room.

 

The act of evil she had been involved for long was drawling her although she had escaped from the art of terrorism, murder, kidnapping and mugging innocent civilians and bureaucratic governments.  The presence of the inflicted orphans has flown to her territory like the stings of the innocent blood set out from the graves of dead people.  For the case of Kabason, she was very aware that this must be the same organization where she served over ten dark years.  She stood there at the kitchen alone as the two-edged swords of torture went through her body burning painful.  Abruptly she recalled the newspaper she had bought.

 

“I must investigate who are behind the killing of Kabason’s family.” She said to herself curiously as she totted out to her bedroom, where she had left the paper untouched.  On the front page the picture of Mickey Macdonald was shown so clear.

 

“They look very alike.  Yes, this is his father… The American captain … continues to back page for more story.” She ready clearly ruffled through the newspaper to back page, where the whole family members were pictured. She read down the whole paper within three minutes, taking every information.  All the information was rounded crazy within her brain – nerves causing a wince more than before.

 

“Yes, if this soldier was involved at the Afghanistan war, there is a high possibility to be either the Russian movements where I was involved or the Talibans maniacs who have done these.”  Her mind was searching for any chances where she would land the troubled mind.

 

“Oh, I have some picture of the comrades whom we used to work with.  At least he will identify them, even one drop of them will satisfy me.   Now I leave it there until tomorrow.” She said to herself loudly as she sprang up towards the kitchen, glancing upon her wristwatch.

 

“Madness, eleven night hour, with twenty minutes, what have I been doing for all these hours.” She said out as she left the kitchen propelling down the stairs to the leaving room where Betty was.

 

“Betty, my daughter, I am sorry, I do not know what is going on my dear” Miss Kourniva said sounding aggrieved, cuddling herself around her across the sofa set.  Betty was asleep.  Nothing she can do.  Picking her up like a baby towards her bedroom.  Briskly, she laid her on bed throwing over her the ripped sheets.  Before she covered her head, she stared closely at her, filming the pain she is going through.  The flamboyant lady lay like a dead being with unheard breath, so innocently a sleep.  Miss Kournikova then opened her light hand as if she was going to wear black gloves out for surgery.  The tough short fingers landed softly down Betty’s face, well managed, somebody will think that Miss Kournikova existed in bodily form, no longer holding the spirit of life.

 

“My child sleep well until tomorrow, I am going to apologize for all these.” As words come with finality, tears rolling down, her mouth vibrating at unseen angle. If anything she will bust out, the killer by baptism. A Russian, christened a citizen of America by birth and death.  She rocked her head away from Betty heading down to other room of another oracles. Kabason got another blow on the blistered wound.

 

A woman walking with the heart of wild beast, so beautifully build, so perfectly fitting the society, so innocently looking and above all a mistaken identity just call her Miss Kournikova.

 

She entered Kabason’s room, popping in; her big intelligent blue eyes swam around eventually resting on him.  Kabason’s image was screened in her brain institute occupied by a vacuumed deep dark environment, white blank.  She stood there speechless, motionless, for psychological powers had electrocuted her.  Over seven minutes the brain had gone on strike.  It had stopped managing Miss Kournikova’s activities apart from balancing her not to fall.  She stood elect like the bronze statues along the Paris streets.  Suddenly she regained her normal energy, moving towards him with careful selected steps, standing over him face motionless, speechless, breathing heavily accompanied with the movement of her throat rhythmically, staring at him in a kind of ethereal disbelief as her blue eyes were slowly turning red like the burning moon through the cotton clouds during the ages of sunset.  As she gazed at him tears were streaming nonstop.

 

“Oh, my Christ why are you tormenting me so far.  I curse the whole world.  No peace I will get, although for all my life I have been looking for peace and money.  Instead of peace I have received sorrow…” She muttered a weepy voice.  Twining her arms across the breasts.  She stood there watching him, without a touch.  Her spiritual pouch was being filled by despair, depression and fear.  She twirled as if she had been electrically set, twitching toward the living room like a ghost.  She was confused on what to do next.  Nothing would hold her apart from the Russian Vodka.  Her mind was typhooning badly, making her face blanched.  Her veins swelled through her twined arms, on her face the veins pronounced a scorpion dragon like image.  Even a blind person can tell by just a touch.

 

Heading to her bedroom, she pulled red vodka topping it with her fingers.  She strolled to bed feeling very weak, hipped herself over the bed.  On her left hand she held the goblet by its stem as her spring bed bumped her up and down.  Pouring it madly into the goblet until the glass was full.  Like a naught hungry queen, She poured the whole full half a liter goblet nonstop until the last drop landed down the gullet.  The high proof spirit gave her a blackout.  It knocked her hard; down she went across her bed.  Her body was left at a groggy state.  She lay flat ghastly, her bedroom door wide open.  The whole house was doomed.  An evil spirit had engulfed the building.  None was spared, for all will be involved in this game of death, no, I mean, the game of blood.

 

The thick fog rolled in amoebically, surrounding the whole building, its tentacles penetrating inside without any resistance like the great octopus.  The thick mist had come to spell the magic power to be three world orphans.  Every mind was stunned and conquered as it was approaching one late midnight, it was that entire silent nothing can be heard even the breath of the living bodies now asleep.  The angle of fortunes was on the way coming, but the war ahead was all that horrible.  Total dangerous, only your fortune fate will tell.  The final age of conspiracy was coming to Miss Kournikova, but now the young Kabason is going to be involved in this highly argue some operation ever recorded in the earthly books of Guinness class.  For tonight their aura were held until the time Kabason will wake up.

 

Time was running out, the number of the hour will be announced and the day seen.  As the night held everything at bay, Miss Kournikova held the secrets of the gnome family deep in her skull.  For now, time was ripe when she will release the secrets to these two young generations.  And that is what she is planning to do, seven hours from now.


 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

It was five in the morning, the hour when the thick haze started disappearing to the far horizons.  The early clear morning promised a pleasant day.  The temperature had rose to seven degrees centigrade and the sun made it up from the east glistering silver light with rays filtering through the rugged mountains landing over Miss Kournikova’s Manson.  The wind came from the east to prepare the way for the coming morning, screaming across the roof and skating along the gutters.

 

The gaunt little lady woke up as the sun made up from the east simultaneously, suppressing her anger, she picked her saxophone introducing herself swiftly and silently, tattering into her foster mother’s bedroom.  The door was not closed as expected.  Peering into the room, she was stunned to find her godmother thrown over the bed.  Betty’s heart trembled, pushing her inside.

 

“Mommy what is wrong with you? Wake up, are you drank?” she whimpered as she went forward taking the bottle from her hand.  Taking the goblet from her, she wanted to taste the remaining spirit but her conscious directed her not to do that.  She gazed around her, squinted, lost in the somnolent.

 

“Mommy, are you dead? The morning has come wake up before I scream on your face.  Are you getting me, mommy… but what is happening to both of you.” She said “… Christ they are all dead” she thought grimily, eventually she opted for breakfast as she briskly sat on the side-bed chair and started praying her saxophone loudly.  The high tone sound that came out of the instrument was full of melancholy.  At the end, the sharp note vibrated Miss Kournikova out of her dreamland.  She woke up, her face was plank, heavy-powered carefully impassive.

 

“What is the time… Betty?  I have slept a lot.”

 

“It is around eight morning… by the way I don’t have a watch, why can’t you find out from your watch.”  She answered her mildly with a mischievous smile.

 

“Okay… then how comes you entered to my room, or I never locked the door.  Gosh what is happening on me?  Go and make something, I am very hungry.  I know also you didn’t take anything last night and you are hungry.” She said soberly.

 

“What am I going to cook, … salads, spinach and hard boiled eggs… radishes and tomatoes … tell me what to cook or take.” She suggested wittily.  Giving a wide, smug maternal grin, she pouted, “… and what do you prefer best.”

 

“I cook fish and bread, I feel very hungry,” Miss Kournikova gave her a thumb, as she yawned covering her widening mouth with her palm.

 

Betty walked off to the kitchen; she mimicked her godmother by yawning loudly escorting it with a loud silly laugh.  The horrendous laugh made Miss Kournikova to smile as she rose from the bed.

 

This middle-aged woman looking always ageless, a mysterious cherub chatting with the prince of darkness, charged colour abruptly.  Her face was submerged with anger.

 

“It is time, within one hour Kaba will be back to normal …I am going to average for those who killed my sister and I don’t want to know what will follow after.”  She gambled to herself, her head rocked to the floor.  By now she can feel more comfortable and strong for any action.  The effects of going off to the terrorist camp burned deep into her very soul.  This made her turn like an abbess, the woman over the head of demon.  No, mother superior visualized by the slaying of the desperate families.  The chain of senseless slaughter must be cut, for her life is nothing towards the citizens of the world.  Terrorism from where she used to operate from must be moldered inside its coffin once for all.

 

“I am going back to Russia to stop them, if this is what the meaning of terrorism… I must go to satisfy my ego.” She grumbled as her face was scowling up.

 

Again after several years in the fiefdom of blood invasion, she has decided to go back there and stop it.  She is alone, but will she really stop it.  Her strong arm and her high experience governed by her dump rich intelligence will contribute her success in Russia.  Also Kabason Macdonald’s identity to the pirates of doom will trigger her adrenaline to jump off to her critical assignment of revenge.

 

Miss Kournikova flopped away towards the bathroom, her mass of long ebony hair swung over her shoulders, her hips swaying a trimmer as she vanished into the bathroom tripping over her discarded clothing on her door’s threshold, she opened the shower.  The warm shower crashed her body down producing a steam of restoration.

 

She emerged down the red velvet carpeted stairs wearing her favourite traveling outfit.  Apart of blue pants, sensibly burgundy shoes and a shell-pink button-down blouse which completed the ensemble.  There she was down towards the dinning room.  She looked very solemn and determined.

 

“Mommy! I cooked something different… sandwiches and a thermos of rum punch with a pot of black coffee on the table for you.  You recall your request yesterday… I will cook the fish lunch time for Kaba Yah?”

 

“Okay.  I have seen that you have liked our visitor.”

 

“How about you mommy?  Do you like him?”

 

“Yes and very much.” Kournikova said allowing the flow of envy to trade between her and Betty.  Lastly Betty said “Even I …” she sounded hurt.

 

Betty stood at the door heading into the dine room.  She had put much weight retain ting her growth, she looked by now comfortable although I don’t care by character, rumbled and highly ambitious on her goals.  The short, stock and spectacled young lady clanged her fingers turning away into the dine room.  After along gaze Kournikova followed her from behind.

 

“Today you look spectacular, my dear.  You look all that wonderful, so beautiful as the great sundowner flower emitting a good smell around its environment.  Betty looked at her standing next to her chair.

 

“Do I look beautiful before him … Mommy!”

 

“Before who…?” Kournikova asked assuming whom Betty meant, her face becoming harder, pitiless full of scorn.  She knew that the two had hooked each other, but for the sake of their future, they must wait a bit.

 

“Kabason… I love him.” Betty said.

“Yes you look very beautiful before him,” she answered her to suspend the unwelcoming atmosphere which was glowing.  The stately blond lassie at her teenage wore a blue silk dress with her deeply tanned skin contracted sharply with the blue dress like a sunbird and a daffodil/flower petal.

 

“Betty, I have a tentative information to tell you today.  It concerns you and your past; why we come here and where we came from.  I believe strongly that the time has come when you need to know the truth.” She said rocking her eyes on Betty startled.  Betty’s mind started spinning on what will come next.  Gazing at her, Kournikova felt high to tell her the truth that she had kept for many years.  The instinct directs her to be cocandid in her conversation about the biography of Betty.

 

“Betty for all this time I have been holding a very scaring information about you.  But before I tell you, I sincerely request you to heartful forgive me Betty.”

 

“Mommy I will forgive you for whatever you had done.”

 

“No, apart from forgiving me, I know it will hurt you for the lest of your life and I don’t want somebody to tell you for none know about out identify apart from me and you, my daughter.” She sighed, gazing at her speculatively without a word.

 

“Continue mommy…” Betty lastly muttered Miss Kournikova’s mind was whirling in quest of a sober point where she will start.

 

“Betty, my life now looks to be spelled on a long code and the code number is “death.”  I have tried for many years to escape it but I have failed, still it is haunting me.  I have decided to go back to where I came from to average for the murder of my beloved sister.  If I will succeed I will live by your side forever, but if I fail to come back for at least seven months, then know that I have been killed.  In short you are not my real daughter nor related at any sense, both of your parents were killed in Germany, Berlin when you were very young.  After leaving you with my family friend at one of the restaurants in Berlin, I come back from Russia and I escaped with you to Finland where I kept you again for five years before we made home with you here…” she signed and continued.  “Apart from that I want to make a will with you before I decide what to do next.  In my bank account I have over seven million dollars of which I have decided to be transferred to you soon.  Also you will take this ranch.” She said.

 

“So, I am a Germany?”

 

“No, you are a Jew, your parents were the …., I mean your father was an ambassador to Germany where they were killed in cold blood that is when I rescued you from the plague of the end.” The unbearable words were vomited as Betty kept quiet, her eyes popped out.

 

“So you are not my mother!” mommy please tell me.” She said sobbing.  She felt cheated, neglected and more worse alone than before.  She hated her more as her words sounded and tasted foul and horrible.  She never understood actual what she meant.

 

“Yes, I am not your mother, Betty you need to understand that and stop crying.  It is over now.” Before she can say the last word.

 

“Leave me alone.” She moaned loudly and lurched towards the stairs, instead of going up, she swerved towards Kabason Macdonald’s room.  Her ego was looking for somewhere to rest, her heart was vibrating like a turning fork.  She spun the door entering into Kabason’s bed at the rear side hiccoughing.  Tears gleaming across her eyes as Miss Kournikova rumbled towards the room.  Entering into the room they exchanged a look of concern across her chalky face and her staring cursing eyes she sat just next to her, she snapped.

 

“Betty, you need to understand the truth and I would like you to stay with Kaba together, forever.  I know you have already loved him.” She soothed her as much as she could by following the rituals of godmothers.

 

“How about him, where are his parents.  Will they come for him and leave me alone?”

 

“They were also killed, all of them and that is why he escaped here.”  She answered her.  The bitter words never allowed her at peace as she busted into tears, hiccupping badly.  Kournikova advanced her hands stroking Betty’s hair backwards.

 

“Who killed them, ma…” she wanted to call her mommy, but she remembered what she had told her.  A cough tapped at her throat escorted the protocol down the gut.

 

“The terrorists from the east definitely are the people behind the massacre.”  Choked the answer.  She never wanted to inflict her without fear, only to encourage them to stay on.

 

“Kaba loves you. That is what he told me.”  She had to lie to her to maintain her.

 

“When is he going to wake up?” she asked her, glaring intensively on her.

 

“One hour from now, or less he will wake up, my daughter, be patient.” Kournikova said.  Betty nodded and said, okay.”

 

The news of her unseen parents melted away, instead her minds was occupied by this aching handsome “Kabason”.

 

“Now, let us go and take breakfast.”

 

Betty sighed almost imperceptibly and nodded.  Taking her up, she hugged her and kissed her.

 

“Betty try to forget the past totally and let us look at the future.” Kournikova squatted to her face to search for the true words.  She read her thought within her glittering eyes.

 

Betty sat quietly, the word mommy troubled her psyche, “What name will I be calling her and how long will I take to adapt that new name.  No! I will continue calling her mommy, she is the only being I know on earth.”  She tussled the conclusion and maintained her hush.

 

“Mommy, I will cook for him eggs and sandwiches … for he must be very hungry and weak.” She said with a hint pout in the way she pursed her lips like that of a swine’s snout.  Kournikova looking at her, shook her head irritably, annoyed at the why Betty was pouting on her.

 

“In your cook, you add half a liter of fresh milk, slightly warm… you need to give him light meal for easy digestion.” She grumbled to her.

 

“Mommy what the hell are you grumbling at me?” she asked as she stood frozen darting across the dine table rocking her eyes on the floor.

 

“No! Betty, I am just telling you what you were supposed to do okay, nothing is wrong.”  She chirped.

 

This Russian woman knew very well on how to drive Betty to forget what she had already told her.  After taking their breakfast, Betty hobbled off to prepare something for Kabason, leaving Kournikova puzzling sorrowful, the event whirling around her thoughts witnessed by the way she was gesturing as if she was out of her minds.  The situation she was wadding through can be concluded by her carnivorous stare she wore on her face.  Abruptly she sprung up, spating off to Kabason’s room.  The closed door was pushed open and she introduced herself inside.

 

Miss Kournikova stood elect over the bed of Kabason, with her stalwart body expecting Kabason to be born by the hour or to be reborn by the living spirit.  Suddenly she walked to the door to close it, pushing it, they was a slight resistance from outside, peeking she made Betty face to face as two strange thieves on action.

 

“Oh my gosh!”  She cried as her finger made a cross with her wrinkled lips.  Betty maintained the required silence stalking slowly inside.  They paraded with their thoughts filled with vandalized Kabason along his bed.

 

Like a robot Kabason opened his suspicious yellow-rimmed eyes without a blink for less than four minutes.  He blinked.

 

“Kaba, how are you feeling now.”

 

“I am… fine.” His voice come up with thick, sleepy and rasp from the strong tablets he took.  Miss Kournikova squatted next to him, rocking his heavy inflicted head up.  Her left hand taped up, trying to assist him, as a human pillow.  Dazed a half a sleep with a lost memory, slowly his lids started to fall.

 

“Kaba… Kaba, are you hearing, wake up.  “She yelled sounding aggrieved.

 

The surly woman stopped abruptly staring at him and frowned, then, suddenly the prisoner of steroid broke the iron chains.

 

“Give me water...Water.” The dotted message beamed off from his throat.  Betty who looked very scared, released her muscled as she rumbled off to the door heading to kitchen for water.

 

“Betty, come with cold milk and not water.” Miss Kournikova called from behind.  She did not hear her calling, coming with super-obedience, speedily, carrying a mug of water without even a glass.

 

“Please my dear, go again and come with a glass and that-cold-milk I told you.”  She squeaked making Betty swirling off without a word.  Kournikova realized how much she loved him as she was gazing her go.  “Yap” She nodded. “The lord of the holy angels and the human race was right when he created the society so that a female would never be independent without a male for both are half cells.” She agreed trying to prevent the boiling tears.

 

“Kaba, have you recalled me now?”

 

“Yah, I recall you.” The words came out so weak and slow.  She immediately shifted a tender smile which masked his wondering mind, at least to heal him psychologically.  His eyelids started curling up, one would have thought he had just fallen asleep, were if not the narrow slit could be seen between his eyelids from time to time.

 

Betty come back with a half a liter of milk in a glass jar, and a drinking cup, all held with both hands.  Steadily she poured it out into the glass holding it towards her godmother.

 

“Kaba, I want you to drink this milk first… you will get relieved, Drink, yes more until you finish the whole lot.” She frowned as she helped him to drink milk.

 

“Wow! Kaba you have made it… you want more?”  Betty asserted proudly as her face was lit up with a broad gin.

 

“Thanks, it is enough for now… I am feeling better”, Kabason twitted, trying to sit up, facing both of them.

 

“Can I see your knee, remove those sheets off first and try to stretch up, yap, that way … up and down.  Okay.”  He said while directing its movement by her hand.  Kabason’s left leg that was swathed with bandages was swollen near its hip, with a small braise.  Kournikova removed the bandages as Kabason sat at the edge of the bed.

 

“It is not badly damaged, you can even walk on your own now.  Again I will see whether afternoon we will take a walk with you around, eh… yesterday I saw cops swarming around your compound and a horse being driven away.”  She said soberly

 

“They have also taken my horse, how about our car, was it there or they also destroyed everything?”  Kabason asked curiously.

 

“Sorry, I never saw any car around only the police vehicles.  People were so many around your home, and you know I was absorbing these from the road… let us see, we will use my horse to spy them again this afternoon from a high point where none will notice us.”  She nibbled and gazed at him intently.  He rocked his head around trying to wash away the horror from his head.

 

“Kaba, try to walk alone to the bathroom.”

 

“Yes, I will make it there without much assistance.” Kabason said hobbling away to the bathroom, she stood.

 

“No, I can-do-on-my own.  You will see.” Kabason said humming with closed lips hardly to be heard.

 

“Gee, I have seen you have made it, miraculous, Kaba…”

 

“So grateful, madam, now I will not need any onerous… I can walk alone.  Wonderful, madam… you are my luck woman.” He said as he slouched off to the bathroom.

 

The mother superior threw is gaze at him, trailing him from behind lastly broke when Kabason closed the bathroom door.  Immediately she spun around and spited off towards her bedroom, coming back with a Japan made, portable, complex, expensive G16 projector mounting it on the table.

 

“Betty we are going, to watch some nasty pictures here, can you go and bring the meal which you said you were preparing.  You bring for me coffee… yap black coffee and twinkles please.”  Kournikova said looking quizzically at her.

 

“The twinckles you brought, got spoiled and nothing remained. “She said whilst praying with her fingers she shook her ebony hair throwing it over the shoulder blades.

 

“Okay bring me boiled eggs if you can, my dear” She said almost giggling at her undone hair.  “Betty, you need to make your hair, what is wrong my daughter, you must be representable.”  The words were enough as she walked off vaguely hurt.

 

Betty apart from being dandy, she was extremely beautiful only that she had being alone for long and being smart made no sense for none was there to impress her, for the presence of Kabason, made no great different, even him, come here in worse mess and nobody was there to compete with her for Kabason.  Kournikova changed everything when she told her the truth; you need to look represent able.  A girl gotta do what a girl does; Betty move in to pamper yourself until all tension will melt away.  Tension brought by Kabason.  Her mind whirled as she ascended to her room; Kabason emerged from the bathroom rapping the towel around her head.

 

“There are some new fittings for you in your room.  You can jump in to change… some pictures are here I would like you to identify yah?  Her ageless pretty insensitive face took a look of evil trying to impress her words to him.

 

Before she twirled her projector button, Kabason hobbled slowly to the living room.  The son of a soldier emerged extremely beyond the limit of handsomeness.  He wore a black buggy jeans, a blue shirt with military style, white vest and a gray checked sport coat.  All these defined his family background.

 

“You look very gorgeous, Kabason, you are so handsome to any woman.  I like your dressing.”  She said.  But first and foremost I would like to apologize for the mistakes I had done to the world’s population, you also involved.  I quit this axis of blood several years ago when they slaughtered my sister like a swine, escaping with piles of gold and diamond holing inside the American world.  That is how I landed here, buying this ranch from an American who move to New York.  Now, the people who massacred your family are from Russia.  Their empire is totally untouchable by either the Russian government or any international organizations.  This evil fiefdom have done a lot of evil activities around the world, from my reliable information, they contribute to the up keep of Al-qaeda network technology although they are not directly involved.  Nowadays they are pumping a lot of money to manufacture dangerous gas, which will doom the entire living things.  This terrorists must be stopped from inside … they control different governments indirectly from Colombia, Cuba, Afghanistan, Libya, Iran, North Korea, Russia and several countries from Africa where they had used their mercenaries to overthrow the civilian government imposing their own leaders who later pays dearly back a lot of money through innocent taxations….” He gaze drifted across the room as though in search of missing word to author her speech.  She continued.. “This organization, it started immediately after the Second World War and it is growing steadily governed by a supreme leader Vladin Chosef as a founder leader.  They execute and strike speedily leaving behind no any trace of blood.  Across their left shoulder blade is a tattoo of this organization but to receive it you must be among the advanced devil’s ranks.” There was unpleasant look from her towards Kabason; definitely suggesting evil desires.  She delivered the words with exaggerated gravity assisted by the show of her hands.  Then she held the silence poignantly.  She was a notorious involuntarily goggling at him stupidly.

 

“Thanks, you have a good taste for my size, colour and the type of clothing I like best, it is excellent.” He said. 

 

Kabason sat exact opposite of her, grinning and gave her a thumb.  “Before I start to saw you this film-pictures of some men who I personally have involved with, I am going to say an abominable thing, extremely derogatory.  The men you will see I have worked with them, they are the world’s most dangerous men ever and will be if you identify any as the film pictures will betray them, you tell me immediately.  Right!” she said with finality.  He nodded slowly fixing his eyes at the projector.

 

Swinging her duffel coat, she moved to switch the projector on, a wave of fear was released and lodged into Kabason’s  head but like the soul of his father, he held everything bravely.  His face betrayed him exactly like the imprint of his father.

 

“Stop, … stop!” the words nearly threw her off.  Tension on him was beyond control.  General Diochev’s picture was clearly shown on the screen.  He wore a darkened hair, long combed back, tall and angular, over grown moustache, broad tiny lipped mouth, sharp black eyes all held by a broad chest.

 

“That is the man who shot my aunt… he is the one who commanded the whole squad.  Yes he is the one… I will kill him, I will revenge for the death of my family, he martyred the whole family … no, he must die.” Kabason bursted out pointing at him with wrath.

 

Four more men were identified as the killers who were involved in the slaughter of Kabason’s family.

 

“Now listen my son; the gentlemen or call them the doomed butchers you have seen, I had worked with them at the same fields for ten horrible years.  Paranoiac, eccentrical woman when it comes to hold such conversation with a tense environment.

 

“Now, now… now, I have offered my life to strike this imperial empire.  “She blushed weary  as she took a deep breath, eventually she shrugged off.  For the last half an hour was intense and exhausting, Kabason’s brain got a stroke to digest the hard staff, Kournikova was aware of this and she knew means of building his psychological stamina; tough physical training within her rugged ranch.

 

Kabason hesitated a bit, his face glaring at unseen images, eventually he said.

 

“Who are they?  These idiots of men who have resources to blander and reach into the primitive level of terrorism without being detected by the FBI or CIA, selecting celebrating mankind for murder and their medieval rituals … eh! Tell me, who are they?”  He asked with awe as he thumped her fist over the table.  He stood with temper.

 

“Relax Kaba, I know you are hurt, but relax like a son of a brave soldier.  These are groups of men whose origin can be traced from maxism ideologies who now control the Russian government technically without the knowledge of the people.  They control and select the global assassination providing the framework to terrorism with a central head called Vladin as a paramount controller who spawn chaos in darkest corners of an abyss.”  Kabason frowned at the muffled reply.

 

The whole room smelt war and blood.  The nuclear operation will be sent from this base more dangerous than any operation ever recorded or will be recorded by millions of years to come; the infernal of the hovering of the holy spirit.

 

Betty emerged from her room ignited by Miss Kournikova to dress up properly, all this full hour she had by molding her self to look like a princes of peace.  Already she had dumped the kitchen affairs.  She came down the stairs to where Kabason and Kournikova sat.  her steps were selective more than usual accompanied by cream strappy sandal with silver heal making a rhythmic provocative tapping on the mosaic stairs.  She ascended as expected.  She was impeccably dressed in a ‘light blue jerry suit, sheer floral devore shirt with lace at the neck and a mink stole, her pony hair pulled back into a severe chignon.  All was summarized by a substantial strand of pearls around her neck and pearl earrings with diamond chips.  She is fourteen years old. They watched, admired, envied and cherished her.

 

“She is a beautiful woman, no matter what the criteria.” He was forced to say because the words were worth for her.  She walked towards them.  Hugging and kissing him before she left for the same to her godmother.

 

“Kabason, you are the most sensuous appealing young man I have ever seen.  You… you look extremely handsome and welcoming.  “She howled contently and chuckled ruefully.  Miss Kournikova was caught under a weird situation.  She really admired with envy the love that was blossoming between the two creatures.

 

“Betty you forgot what I sent you… he is hungry, he needs something good to eat.”  She smiled and stood, stretched, blinked her green eyes against the background.

 

“Oh, I just forgot, let me go for it.  Kaba please you forgive me.” She said solemnly as she lodged upstairs.

 

“Kaba, I will leave you with her, I am going to the take the horse from the stable to the upper field to clean it.  Take your lunch I will be back.  After lunch we will go to spy what is actually going on within your compound.” She said taking quick steps off the exit.  As her heavy steps were dying off towards the east side of the mansion, the fate of confusion entered into Kabason’s mind, not believing what was going on.  The word revenge coiled throughout his nerves, she is going for revenge for the death of her sister.  And I am going out for the same thing, revenge for my own family.

 

Betty came down the stairs heading straight to the dine-room carrying a full tray of lorray food and stuffs, a mug of coffee, three boiled eggs and ice cream.

 

“Welcome Kaba for lunch, I would like you to taste my cooking today.  I know you will appreciate it” her note sounded grimly, swerving to the dine-room.  As she walked a wave of aroma was released swirling smoothly from the foodstuffs she carried and lodged through Kabason’s nostril.  The sweat smell wretched him hobbling steady to the dine room, sitting on a chair next to her.

 

“I like you, Betty… I mean I love you, I wish we will be with you forever.”

 

“Even do I … you are sweat to my heart. Will you go?  Please, Kaba you stay with us here.  Never leave as alone.”  She shifted a smile and watched him as he sighed in his black dine’s wood chair tossed with white cushions.

 

“If I go, will you come with me?”

 

“Yah, I don’t care where we will go as far as I will be with you.”  She gushed softly with a contralto voice.  The sweat words boosted his spirit.  He no longer felt lonely and uncared.

 

“I am sorry for what happened to your family I … any where it is not your concern.”  Avoiding his look she darted away from him as a faint screen of tears smeared her eyes.

 

“Betty I am concerned, just tell me if you love me.”  He insisted kindly.

 

“…Also my parents were murdered and she rescued me.  I was months old by then.”  She mourned softly and I bustled off to the living room.  Tears that can’t relieve but poison the eyes like powdered pepper over the wound, Kabason held it bravely.  The whole house was doomed with silence for more than thirteen minutes.

 

“Kaba, wouldn’t you care to come here for a minute?, I am feeling lonely.”

 

“I am coming, something wrong?”

“Yes, I am missing you.” She snapped.

 

Kabason hesitated habit for three minute, his eyes through the dine room from why the voice come from, he stood and hobbled to the living room, he found her watching a war film.  Exchanging a look of concern over her chalky face and her sexy eyes.  He moved and sat next to her.

 

“You like war film, Betty?”

 

“No!”

 

She turned and fixed her blue eyes over him looking at him, blankly.

 

“From here I am going to show you around here, yap! “She said running a fingernail on the starched blue linen table cloth stupidly.”

 

“I am really very hungry, it will be a great pleasure if I eat something.”

 

“Let us go back… I am sorry, I am the one who made you too come here.”  She said as the two walked back to the dine room.  The orphaned creatures cocooned into its private world.  Taking their meals as if their parents from the spiritual world space are controlling their fate.  They were so gregarious, full of life and fun as the moment of happiness had descended on them.

 

“I am really very happy that we are together… uh huh, I like the way you cook.”

 

“Sure, thanks Kaba.  I am going to give you this huge slab of spike cake; I cooked specifically for you, using only milk. Mm…hm you can test it.  “She said with a faint smile across her smooth mysterious skin face.

 

Kaba rolled his eyes so wonderful appealing with a broad and a snappy retort.

 

“So sweet, unbelievable.  It is exactly your own duplicate.  So sweet as you are.”

 

“Sure Kaba, tomorrow, I will show you how to cook a lamb chop with coriander orange butter.  This is my favorite meal I will like to cook for you… okay?”

 

“Grateful, and you will show me on how to cook it.”

“Yap, I will do everything to teach you how to cook it.”

 

She snapped and nodded, frowned, leaning across the table childishly with her eyelids thrown halfway sexually and wanting.

 

“Do you know how to operate a sub-machine gun?”

“I have been at school, I haven’t had a good time to train on it, although my father was a captain of the U.S.A. Navy.”

 

“I can understand, anywhere I can handle over seventeen types of guns with different models and manufactures.  Also I am able to in store several types of time bombs and terminate them.  My mother is an expert in this entire field.  She can handle more complicated machines of war across our ranch, madly… I will tell her to show you.”

 

There was an aerobic knocking at the door.

“Mommy… I am opening.  Just a minute.”  She jabbered jerking herself along to the door.

 

“Where have you been… mommy?” she asked agogingly but also awkwardly as all her thoughts were anchored in Kabason’s heart.

 

“Uh, my crazy daughter, I had been jaunting around interested on it?” she asked as she bypassed her, sailing with a swooping motion to where Kabason sat.  Betty moved and sat without answering her anything.

 

“Please Betty go and shut the door.”  She shut the door, swaggered, moving along the lounge towards the sitting room, crossing the threshold, turning to the library.  She can see Kabason and Kournikova talking in undertone she stopped, very confused what actually were they talking about.  As kournikova turned her head across the room, she caught a glimpse of Betty standing, leaning against the door flame, and watching them boisterously.

 

“Betty what is wrong with you.  Bring for me soup fruit and spike cake.” She blurted.

 

“I am not snooping at you, mommy.  I was just admiring the way you are whispering to him.”

 

“Betty, Betty my child I am not sure that would be discreet to commenting to me.  You are a diabolical babe.  “The tone of her voice was cruel and so abrupt.  Betty without a breath she gyrated, slugging to the kitchen.

 

“Kaba leave her alone… so, will move immediately from here to survey your family.  There is nothing to fear about.  Make sure nobody will be following us.  You move with orders from me, for I know you don’t have any knowledge about all these.  The law of escape from where you have been born will govern every move you make.  No any fear, I suspect the FBI and CIA are looking for your body in the smoldered building.  Among of them are those who have been paid to stung you up, although physically we will not avail our self there, but we expect some cops combing several kilometers around your home.”  She said whilst oiling her charter 0.38 caliber special.

 

Betty come with sour soup fruit, she smiled as Betty poured the steaming cup of sour soup fruit from the gullet.

 

“We are going somewhere for less than three hours from fourteen afternoon hour.  You remain here and take care of the house we will take the horse.

 

“Kaba is returning to his home?” she asked moving next to her, her fingers intertwined, supporting her chisel sharpened chin.

 

“He is with us, and he is going to stay here with you, only I would like to show him around our ranch.” She said quaffing the hot soup as if her mouth has a cooler.  She stalked to her bedroom leaving Betty and Kabason alone.

 

She wore a black cable-knit sweater, her comfortable sports shoes, leather jacket in a luxurious cream, tossed her raincoat over her arm and posed for her admiring occasion before a full-length mirror.  Rumbling down the stairs to the living room.

 

“Kabason, it is drizzling outside, you can wear this raincoat… let us go.” She said tossing the raincoat across to him.  Ceiling himself inside the heavy, sweat whiffing coat, looking like a baddy.  As the two emerged outside, there was a fine raindrop making them to pull their wearing over their heads.

 

“You can wear this balaclava cup and this goggles,” she said slouching to where the horse stood, watching them.  Kabason followed her silently.  Miss Kournikova mounted the horse like a champion, striding her strong arm to Kabason.

 

“Let me assist you yah… bring your hand and let your foot first on the stirrup.  Strong … jump very excellent, you are not a dunce.

 

“She said happily as they rode off, taking a different route apart from the one which Kabason used to arrive to this farm.  The strong wind reduced drastically as the horse crushed the earth mercilessly striding on and on, producing a fume of war.  She yelled making the horse to fly swiftly, taking the lower valley ascending into the upper hill stream, crossing the bridge like a swine towards east.  The horse raced up the stony hill emerging as a hero.  On top of this top-valley they overlooked the burnt compound.  Both of them stood silent, they squinted against the sun-lays that topped out from the fast racing clouds.  Deviating the strong overcast, they drove down the volcanic cave.  Abruptly as if they had been directed by the powerful fate, a spy light plane droned past them with infrared cameras and fitted with radar.  Good luck as the fate could carry it they had togged behind the tall horn like rock.  The aircraft boomed off and was lost in the sea of cumulus cloud that tossed the plane like a puppet on the sea.

 

“Kaba, we are so lucky, I just drove it here… I don’t know, I found… I have rode the horse here.” 

 

“Your strong instinct on work.”  He selected the word she wanted.

 

“Yes, we would have found ourselves in shit.  At least a relieve from hell.”  She sighed and rocked her head throwing the long hair thwarting Kabason’s face.  The oozing rain had now stopped completely and the day looked young.

 

Miss Kournikova jumped down like a wild cat, toping and peeking around.  Justified, she helped Kabason down as if the enemy was just around.

 

“Kabason, use this binoculars from here.  If anything happens or if you see any strange thing you shriek once.  Don’t move from here… I will be back within a moment.”  She gave him a Russian revolver carrying eight bullets.

 

“This is for your defense.  Try to learn how much they wrecked your home and what actually is going on within the compound.”  She said, studying and putting in pressure of proficient on Kabason.  She wanted him to have blood of war and to learn to kill without mercy.  She walked out.  Up from where they were, was about two kilometers to Kabason’s home.  His binocular brought perfectly their lynched home.  Tears were released deep from his sorrowful glands.  His family members had been cremated a life within their own beds, for nothing.  Hunger boiled up his gut ready to be spitted out.

 

From far, she was watching him with her binocular.  Tentatively the flame work of Kabason was circled into her blood shot eyes.  She was not interested on anything going around.  Her mind was on him.

 

The horse stared straight at Kabason wondering what this crazy stranger was doing.  Kournikova ploughed through the ragged forest as a buffalo confronted by a lion.”

 

“There are few personals in your compound.”  She said

“I can see them clearly, I am scared, our house was total destroyed … all were burnt inside.  Jesus, what did we do to deserve this.”

 

“Kaba, you need to learn to be a brave man crying will not help.”  She jabbered moving next to him, taking the binocular from him, looking at him excitingly.

 

“Let us get out of here, Kaba.  Do you know the way back… lead us now home.”  She said.

 

“I am confused, I don’t know even where we are from, at this point, I don’t know even how we arrived here.  Christ, what a life Kournikova.  This is totally horrible, uncontrollable; I have never been within a tropical jungle like this.  Everything here looks wild.  Although from home I used to see this highland, green and beautiful, but it is exactly opposite.” He blustered, his face behaving in a waveform full of wrinkles.

 

“You said you are going out for revenge for people who killed your family members, but you need to train to have a steaming stamina, on how to use a gun, fighting techniques and many, many things.  You need a chest to fight with … power”

 

Kaba kept quiet walking away to the horse.  She followed him.

 

“Kaba don’t be scared a lot, you will be a sharp shooter. Soon… through my hand.  I will train you on how to go about it.”

 

She followed him from behind, studying him more.  He is going out for vengeance, I will go with him, but he needs a tough training, a strong stamina, for seven months from now.  He needs a broad chest, an expander… he will make a good sharp shooter in future.  Gosh, I don’t want to sacrifice this good-natured young man.  Kournikova thought deep about the coming adventure.

 

She tapped him on the back rhythmically.  He scrambled around more less steadily.

 

“Kaba you proposed to follow your tormenters to Russia? I have decided to go alone without you.  You will stay with Betty here.  My operations are totally dangerous.  It is a game of death, for you must die, coming out a life, it is impossible.  I don’t want you to die.  I will go alone.”  Kournikova snorted.

 

“I feel awful, I don’t know what I can tell you.  The bones of my parents are still burning down there and the people who killed them, I must go for them.”  He growled looking like a sulky little boy out to mess on his ass, turning away from her.  Tucking the binocular into the raincoat.

 

“Miss, what can I do, I request you to help me it makes no any different for even this hour I am death, I narrowly excepted it.”

 

“Relax Kabason…” she snapped with insincerely smile.

 

“Come let us go home.  As from tomorrow, I will be training you on how to operate different types of guns every war machine you must be very aware of it.  You will be able too understood the Russian language… just even a bit; Moscow city must be screened in your brain.  You will improve your muscle art and not to be a coward of blood.  You must be ready to kill at anytime, anywhere.  After these seven months, we will follow them both of us.”  She said with great determination and courage, her arms at akimbo as the spikes of the evening sunrays made her hair glitter and her hazel eyes gleaming.

 

“I am ready to go with you even up to hell.”  He said cheerfully, slumping against the rock stem.  He looked ready for war, unprivileged laddie out to play with a red heated iron bar with her bare hands.  Both bustled out of side groggily towards the horse.  She helped him, as he was no longer hobbling as in the morning.

 

 At least you can walk on your own without my assistance.” She said sounding tired and stuffy.

 

“I am healing up so quickly, I feel now better than yesterday… probably within a week, I will be completely fine.” He drawled, struggling to feel free towards her.

 

There was a tension of awe between him and her, although their relationship was glowing slowly but steadily.  He resembles his father’s walking style, although he was leaping slightly.  His cruel strong sharp tiger’s eyes changes often when he smiles, they look mysterious, strange and cruel when he is under stress.  His big bones were showing off, at the age of nineteen with the height of Kournikova, implies the young man will be a giant to reckon with.  Kabason Macdonald looks unpursuited, tough, and proficient, intelligent with a chest, which swells greatly when he sighs like a triggered cobra’s head.  His hair was growing godlike, long like a typical ancient chariot rider.

 

They swayed together with her to the horse, his raincoat propelling as a strong wind came from the east with a warm evening breeze.  Quickly she jumped over the horse back like a baboon and relaxed waiting Kabason to do the same.  The poor gentleman never dared even to try, instead he stood throwing a glance onto her.  Grinning she gave him a hand-lift.

 

“Your left leg on the stirrup huh!  Strong up bravo!”

 

“Thanks…” he said.

 

They mounted the horse together back home.  Burrowing through the tunnel of the southern valley, taking a bend up along a stream, striding off as the crazy brisk wind whipping their long hair away like the red Roman Empire flag on their war ships.  She blew a stream of a breath through her lips her eyes were narrowed beaming through the thrusting wind.

 

His arms clung her tight.  The horse reduced it’s pace taking a steep high land to emerge over a rocky plateau conquering the steep valley, they took to the east with an easy stamina.  Kabason’s hands transmitted warmth beyond control, knocking Miss Kournikova’s affectional tension.  His hands, without knowledge of anybody swimmed onto her bell.  He clung to her as the horse increased its pace.  Quickly the affection got from the pumping of the horse’s movement traveling speedily and lodged onto Kournikova’s sensual nerves.  She felt the tenderly and soft touch of his warm palm.  Her body responded, as the breasts grow larger with their nibbles becoming turgid.  She felt it and she must do it but he was not aware of his acts.  She pushed her bra up with her right hand and the breasts were left ajar.

 

The great horse maintained her motion and disturbance, she brought her shaking fingers into the locked Kabason’s fingers, loosening them slowly, and she pushed them up.

 

“Kaba.. Hold-me-here, I feel good.”  She murmured his mind, his palms clung the pouch breasts.  The feeling as soon as his palm touched her breasts aided by the bobbing of the horse’s striding, traveled and lodged into her bosom without knowing she burled.

 

“Kaba, squeeze them softly.  I am feeling sexy junior.  I haven’t done for long.  I miss it…please.”

 

Kabason had never done it, he had only read about them but only once.  He kept quiet as she was squealing for more.  Lastly she stopped the horse at exactly where she found him.  Twirling on the back of the horse, facing him.  As if the animal was aware of what was going on, it stood still.  None spoke coiling madly around him.  She dumped a quarter of her tongue into Kabason’s mouth, kissing, carelessing and doing everything to explode him.

 

“You are young to my age.  I could have done it here with you.  Or, we will do it any other time but not today.” She said softly, their foreheads locked together on the horse’s back.

 

“I have never done it before… but I feel good, so fun.” He echoed, cocking his head, focused onto her sexy eyes.

 

The stalwart laddie kissed her again and again he felt to do it more.

 

“No, we go. Come and ride the horse down home.” She embraced him, jumped down and mounted behind Kabason.  He was a professional horse rider, with one cry the horse flew down to Kournikova’s house like a flying dragon.  It tore out of here like a tiger emerging from tall grass against a deer across the ranch.  They bobbed and clung together as lovers.  She had to squint, finally she shield her eyes over Kabason’s back from the harsh direct wind spikes.

 

“Kaba… reduce your speed.  We are not late.  I never knew that you can ride so speedily like this.” She twittered with unclear tone behind Kabason’s back.

 

“Wow, I gonna slow it it is all that fun.” He asserted proudly, pulling its reins carefully as the horse, responding, turned into a drive way lined with willow trees from the main road.  Along the lane, heading towards the main gate, kabason triggered the animal as it’s strode vibrated jumping over the gate like an antelope and came to a stop on a gravel circle in front of a large stone mansion.

 

“Let me assist you down… don’t try to do it alone.” She said intelligently jumping doing the horse, springing.  The tensely muscular bold ageless woman brought him down like a toddler.

 

“You are damn strong and you don’t look like one, always soft.”

 

“Are you sure…?”

 

She shrugged and nodded pulling the horse by its reins to the stable.  It was six evening hour when they arrived home the heavy clouds had brought a lot of darkness, turning the early evening to be dark.  Kabason tottored to the porch and swerved facing the first physical night here.  In front of him lay a large Korean garden lighted by flood of lights illuminating aroma scent.  On his left; there were lights from the front room that shed soft greenish illumination through drapes drawn over the windows.  At a distance the swimming pool reflected the silence all around and life within.

 

“Kaba, why are you not getting into the house?”

 

“I saw it better to wait you here.  And … I feel better here watching your beautiful compound.  It looks like you like gardening.” Kabason said with a proud smile lightening his youthful posture.

 

“A good place for you to stay. A perfect for you Kaba” she said with a beautiful twittered voice, standing just next to him, her strong use arm showing him with a gesture like when Jesus was shewed by the devil unto him all the kingdom of the world in a moment of moment.

 

“We will talk much tomorrow evening all of us.  Now we can go in.” she said solemnly topping him gently on his shoulders. Walking like the newly married couples.  She pushed the buzzer once.

 

“She is alone.  Usually I found my self out for along.” She said wearily, the door sprung open.

 

Steadily Betty peered as the door was slowly leaving space.  With dazzling smile, she jumped up hugging both.  “Welcome, I have really missed both of you… Tonight, wow! Have a pleasant dinner I have prepared.” She said grinning clung out her hands as all walked to the dine room.

 

“We apologize for the long absence we have taken, I will not leave you stay alone.” Kabason said wittily collapsing dramatically into the dine chair.

 

“I missed you more, I know now you will not leave me alone.” She said whilst she took a gaze at him.  There was a succession of gleeful chattering at the dine room as Kabason brought more humour and warmth in the house.  The dine room was lighted with electrical candle labara bringing the yellow coloured walls into a pool of beauty.  Miss Kournikova talked much that night sounding wonderful and romantic.

 

“Tomorrow I will not be out for more than seven hours, first I will travel to Washington and I will try to communicate with somebody in Berlin.  For you, I would like you to create a magical charm on our acre of lawn.  I will give both of you a good deal when I will be back.  Okay Kaba?” she bristled on the circumstance surrounding Kabason and Betty with envy. He nodded avoiding her look.  Betty was gulping the heavy meal she prepared without caring what she was telling them, looking painful as if Kournikova had brought up some embarrassing subject Suddenly Betty stood, hungry, she gusted out of the dine room, feeling how awkward to mower.  Looking glum, she slouched up the stairs to her bedroom.  Without noticing them.  Miss Kournikova and Kabason were left there rustling up the dinner.

 

“Sometimes my daughter behaves childishly, but she is very responsible.”

 

“I like her, she is so beautiful.”

 

“Yah, only she so nagging sometimes… I would be more happy if you will be married to her in future.” She said smiling insincerely.

 

“Oh. No, Kournikova, I haven’t taught about having a family at this early age.” He said smiling dazzlingly.

 

“Anyway as from Monday we will start to train for the coming operation.  Your highest patience will be guaranteed” She yelled changing colour as if a poisonous object had stung her.  She stood.

 

“I am going to the bath room… feeling nasty.”

 

Propelling off along the lobby, which illuminated her like an angel, grabbing her raincoat down her breast .He moved to the living room glaring as a wind of change entered him.  Feeling so lonely, she followed him to the living room heaping himself into a graceful curved American sofa upholstered in a heavy green grass fabric.  The TV channel CNN News was on.  Squeezing, beaming his round bloodshot eyes to see clearly, his eyes popped when the news bulletin announced: captain Mickey Macdonald and his son’s body goes missing.

 

His soul sack moving his head to observe more.  Tears flowed down his cheeks, so painful to bear.  He sandwiched his tired head between his knees, sobbing.

 



 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Miss Kournikova was out in the bathroom; she eased herself under the torrent of warm water as a poignancy of slow music drew her into the world of peace until her body acclimated. She thrusted her whole body beneath the warm water.  She popped her head splashing the droplets by shaking it strongly.  Taking a bottle of shampoo from the stainless wire-rack, pouring enough of it into her palm, and vigorously worked it into he long hair professional trying the hair after running it with water.

 

She got out of the shower wearing a large, fluffy white towel around her bust down to her smooth cared thighs.  She walked out to her bedroom.  Her thoughts all this time were on the operation to Russia and how she can go about it.  She came out of her room dressed in a gray gown, low shoes and a red blazer.  Trying her hair she come down to the living room noisily.

 

“Kaba, Kaba, it is time to go to sleep.  I know you are really tired.” She browned moving towards him.  Nearly immediately Kabason stood yawning his arms thrown like a flying bat.

 

“Thanks, I feel really tired… at least a moment to square my tired mind.” He said suppressing the news, which had bombarded him badly.  She escorted him to his room to wait the coming morning.

 

“Kaba… I like your name, it sounds musical into my ears, I wish I had a son to call often.”

 

“Oh, no… how about yours… sounds lovely, a nice name to recall although hard to recall.”

 

“A Russian name… tomorrow we will talk much as next week we will start our tough training. I know you will make it through and bravo!” she said a mid giggling.

 

The hushed night drummed up the Vladin mercantilists coiling to their beds, all contented for tomorrow to come and go.  Their fate or call it the spirit of power whirled strongly around them for the protection against evil tormentors.  The world of good and evil spirits were left at war concealed within the human flesh; the earthly creatures.  The winner the end will pronounce.  The human body will be destroyed, as the spirit will escape to search for another colony to invent.  The evil spirits will never be destroyed for a time and time.  The bossy as a cage will be used again and again.  Even if this villain Vladin Kochef will be killed another more complicated, advanced, dangerously rude evil spirit will hijack another body giving birth to worse beast than him, there will be and never be an end of blood painting in the name of terrorism.  A baby born at the first hour is highly horribly dangerous than somebody at advanced age.  The game of murder has no end and the start, but changes with persons and places, but not with time.  It is always present; governed by the paramount demons of demons.  But mind you, the righteous determines the end justifying it as their glorious victory.

 

The ageless woman, as an abbes lay along her king-size round bed that stood in the middle of her room embedded into a thick red carpet quietly.  Over the wall, the great hour of darkness stroke, the hour of the greatness darkness, the hour of death; one, after midnight hour, the wrong time.

 

She sprung up, darting around like a seal within the shore-jungle of the notorious walrus.  Her sweet can be whiffed yards away from here with her fingers used with her automatic 0.38 caliper special, was clung, taken like shit below the pillow off the bed lagging like a cat’s movements to her special tower with a modern monitoring camera with a sound track.  All was a mirage; a bad dream.  For sixty-five minutes she was satisfied none was tailing her as she walked back to bed, tired and exhausted.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

At eight in the morning hour she was alone in her gym complex.  She did some shooting eventually she pubbled to the shower thirty minutes later. She Frowned shook her head in front of admiring full-length toilet mirror.

 

“I am going old so fast, what is really happening…” she twittered to herself when she saw Betty in the mirror watching her from behind.

 

“Mummy, whom are you talking to?” the aching little girl asked standing on the threshold.

 

“Just a morning prayer, is there any problem when one prays Betty?”  She shot back, turning, facing her solemnly.

 

“Okay, at least another chance to associate with your gods.  The breakfast is ready, we are waiting for you.”  Betty said swerving to the dine room, fleeting down the stairs without looking back.  Already she had been anchored with Kabason Macdonald.  As her echoes trailed, Kournikova lagged to her bedroom, heaping herself into the bed taking her diary from the bedside drawer, indicating her day’s activities writing her secrets total jargon in complicated Russian primitive language compile by her own tongue.  For no intelligent person or any computer can maneuver to understand her words by hurling pejoratives against her defense in the thorn of Vladin.

 

The date was selected on seven the seventh month from this hour to destroy, annihilate Vladin’s empire.  She dropped her diary in a snakeskin purse and rushed down stairs, leaving her automatic door too lock itself.  She emerged through the foothold of the dine door, her hair in a lack form, a stretch shirt with popper buttons engulfing a sexy vest top, all housed within a camel cardigan, entangled by the a sheer scarf to add the texture lastly a pencil skirt that really is a knee length and the whole matter crushed low healed turkey made shoe.

 

“Good morning Kaba…”

 

“Hi, Miss!, am fine, only I had a slide ache.  But now I am doing fine.” Kabason responded with an open smile as she hugged both of them with cold cheek, to Kabason, soft and warm.  Her gesture was always full of autocracy as she sat frowning.

 

“I know both of you, you are enjoying your privacy you can allow me to guarantee me a permission to voice a permanent union between you two… for Betty, I told you yesterday about my trans-tenure of my properties to you, but once again the anticipation had been shifted until the end of the three months from now.   This had been affected because I will be with you for all this three months before I leave you.  Anyway Kaba, I had made a will with my daughter.  Actually I feel so strong to transfer my earthly identities to her.”  She said authoritatively, fixing her sharp beaming eyes on the coffee cup held between her fingers rotating it on its own axis on the table.  None spoke, the message was enough to make them puzzle.  The young brains had to endure the tyranny and ruthless of Kournikova’s natural rough words.  Betty never adhered to call it a damn, wearing a brassiere and panties.

 

“Mom, please allow us to mower three quarters of compound, so that tomorrow we will finish it.  Kaba is sick, he can’t help himself to do anything.”

 

“Betty, it will take you alone four hours to do away with mowing… and again tomorrow all of us we will be attending the garden, you need not to be a lazy girl.”  She looked at Kabason instead launching into her hysterical baritone lecturers.

 

“Kaba, you reduce your movements for quick recovery,” she said lastly.  Adding more coffee from a large steaming, red ceramic mug.

 

“… From this morning bulletin, your father’s body was not found within the launched building; only two female bodies were found.  You, and your father were missing.  There is a very high possibility that your father must be a life in a chamber of torture within the laboratory of Vladin in Russsia.  For seven months these people will torture him until they will fetch much secrets of the American government.  After this they will anatomize his body for more than three months still a life.  This marks the most awkward torture beyond human suffering.  It is a type of treatment, which can’t be described in neurotically diversity.  First they take off the human skin in pieces at this stage his body will be convulsed and shake in a very low frequency under a low temperature.  Then a terrible gasp and a final slow expulsion of life and agony no muffled cry but a murmur of death.  Now Kaba, we need to be there before the end of three months from now.  I feel the torture he might be going through.”  She kept silent, her face changed, smeared with hideous fierce, murder’s face, gone was her soft, loving, intelligent, in its place the calm, determined look of an experienced terrorist’s hijacked her.  Her blood flow increased abruptly a bitter sweat glittered down her face; she sprung from her chair and hasted away to the door.

 

Off she went to Washington, her vehicle can be heard howling away to the east.  The message stung Kabason like a powdered dry berry on a fresh wound.  He padded to the living room, tears left ajar as Betty coiled from behind him, both collapsed across the sofa, Kabason whistling the tears with the back of his palm.

 

“Kaba, don’t cry.  Forget the past and let us look at the future.  Your present health and future life move twinery to determine who you will be.  If you brainstorm a lot you will affect your brain.  Be calm and face your future as a man.”  She soothed him as best as she could, sitting next to him.  She took her handkerchief cleaning off the traces of tears down his cheeks like a baby with one hand holding Kabason’s head.

 

“Leave me alone I am okay Betty, only thinking of my unfortunate parents.”

 

“Sorry, I am here to comfort you.  Let us go to the store to oil the mower.”  She wanted to cry, but there will be solution but sorrow.  Both of them were mentally depressed.  She stood first, her right hand extended to Kabason towing him up, whilst her left hand stroke his hair.  He stood slugging together to the storm.

 

“Today I have two agendas to fulfill before mom will be back… I will cook for you my best meal and for now I am going to show you different types of grass we have here, collected from different parts of the world.”  Her voice low and husk, her gaze questioning his face as they walked to the backyard, bypassing a huge buttered piano.

 

“Mom, tells me that this piano belongs to her grand father, who used to play it melodically, and she had been moving with it wherever she went, a gift given to her before he died of lung cancer she said stiffly swirling to the store room.

 

“Kaba, you can wait me here, let me go for the mower.”

 

“Where is the store from here.”

 

“It is behind the horse’s stable.  Just wait here for the sake of your knee.”  Kabason nodded, standing there along the corridor watching her admirably.  Throwing a wink lovingly onto her back.  She had no option apart from going out with a pumping heart.

 

Betty emerged with an old diesel fueled mover, pushing it strongly.

 

“This is one of my mom’s admires, this backyard with a patch of green or you can call it an acre of lawn containing three types of grass.  Over there, is a fine bluish grass, cynodons, the sun giving a beautiful turf the way you can see it.  On your left those bright green leaved grass with long pointed blades are called pennies turn clandos tinum and around the swimming pool with dark green and coarse bladed with pointed tips are known as paspalum notatum.  These make our compound to look so beautiful. “ She lectured.

 

Kabason admired her sense of selection of nature.  The backyard gave the beautiful scene as flower opened their petals for admires or lovers to watch them on how flamboyant creatures are.

 

“This is one of an outer standing garden I have ever seen.”

 

“My mom has a good taste for flower and beauty, that is why much of her time she tries to make the surrounding attractive, anyway she has thought me much about flowers and on how to attend them.”  She snapped, tossing her thick blond hair.  She started oiling the machine, Kabason watching her as she briefed him extensively on how the machine works.

 

“I can dismantle the whole machine and assemble it within six hours, factioning.” She said gruffly, her mouth quirked at the corner.  Kabason can see how bright legal mind she held within her bush head, probably the cleverest ego he had come cross to.

 

“Who taught you about machines, Betty?” Kabason asked incredulously kneeling next to her, staring as she was oiling the engine.

 

“My mom, she knows nearly everything.  When her vehicle jams, we just get underneath without any hesitation.”  She chirped and towed forcefully the string and the machine loudly boomed, making Kabason to tap his ears with both palms.  The crazy beautiful girl, always ready to betray herself out.

 

“Kaba, let me run it over the field for four hours, you will be watching me out from her.  I will do it to the required standard of my mom.”  She assured him hurriedly.

 

“You are a great lady.  I tell you what? … I love you expensively, Betty.  I feel like a butterfly flying high I will be with you always, Betty? I like the way you talk with humour and the way you make your lovely gestures.  You are here to be reckoned with.  I need you.”  Kabason bristled, as Betty ploughed the mower along.

 

Kabason’s cheeks were taped into his v-shaped palms, watching her from a horse-chestnut tree-shade.  The sun brightly showered around, Betty; at the far upper end she was pushing the mower powerfully along the last lane.  He admired her more.  The Jews girl was overworking her power as a sign of living for along generation.

 

“I will stay by her side, I love you Betty, my sweetheart I will come back for you.”  He muttered dryly.

 

“Wow! Kaba, it’s over, for exactly three hours and thirty minutes.” Her echoes waved with soft tone to Kabason’s ears.  Her tireless left hand warped the air repeatedly with a soul of happiness whilst her right hand held at akimbo, lastly she threw a victory sign. It was so beautiful to recall.  Tears of joy trailed down, so did the flow of love.  A trace of smile surfaced, his heart oiled with happiness, flickered on his mouth.  He glanced at his watch.

 

“Yah, she had made it for exactly three hours and thirty minutes.”  He said to himself, turning his head to the germinating roaring machine.  She was pulling the mower down to where Kabason sat. He stared at her wondering what she had been thinking about for all those hours pushing and pulling, was she really thinking about him?  As he had been anchored in her?  He never got the answer until she was some meters away from him when she realized Betty is a young lady who is naturing free from the outside world.  She was self centered with untroublesome soul, her thoughts were not in him, but concentrated on her ego, with independent spirit.  Well principled with a defined goal in whatever she was planning to commit.  For Kabason, she was looking at him beseechingly, the fate of love pumping on and on with power of unification intertwining strongly.

 

“Kaba, I am sorry for putting you on waiting list for long.  But I have made it.”  Her words were overpowered by the thunderous noise of her mower but the message can be got from the way her mouth quirked.  He stood with a leering smile, staring at her machine, dazed by the horrendous noise.  His look communicated speedily, onto her, responding with an indulged smile.  He gently pressed his hand against his ears to muff the whine of the mower engine.

 

“Please, stop it, Betty.”  He requested her glaring furiously.  She realized very late that Kabason is not used with this type of howling machine.  Responding speedily, he turned the switch and the machine went off.  Folding her strong arms across her bust hilled with bountiful breasts, she pouted.

 

“Kaba, I am so sorry, I an used with this loud sound of late we haven’t replaced the oil either greased the engine.”  She moved and sat next to him.  It was approaching noon, the sun was high, the broiling sun cleared the weather’s dampness instead a clear day was born very green but dictating a big storm to come.  The wind was held still with moderate coldness whirling unseen moisture carrying its smell and temperature against the hot sun.

 

“Yesterday we were over those rugged mountains.” He intoned evenly, both sat next to each other, Betty, leaning over the leg swathed with bandages, inclining herself firmly making herself comfortable.  He gazed down on her as she glared towards the monstrous valleys and mountains to the west.  Like a cat, she strangled over his injured knee yawning strangely definitely from exhaustion.  The pain was no longer there, leaving her to enjoy the comforts she had got, he continued.

 

“From the top of that far mountain, it is over four kilometers to my place.  Yesterday we viewed from there our building clamping down.  These killers destroyed everything; the soul, the power to listen and act, the flesh within their touch by bombing my father’s house.  It was a horrible night I will never forget in my lifetime.  They chased me from behind I don’t know for how long, eventually my horse which I rode stumbled on something and we both went down.  That very night it was dark and a scaring fierce holding crazy storm.  I have ever witnessed.”  He stopped talking, taking a deep breath, lastly he swallowed bitter saliva down his throat with a sound. 

 

“…Your mother helped me here.” He finished there.  A real hunger shot through him like an acidic gulp of bile up the throat from its porch.  A train of tears adhered down his cheeks onto the back of Betty whose body lay across Kabason’s stretched injured legs.  He was sobbing silently when he rocked his head, whisking off the tears with his shirt’s collar leaving behind bloody shot eyes.

 

“Betty let us go, I am feeling awkward here and thirst.”  He said pointedly, helping her to take a sitting position.  Like a bursting balloon she started crying, clinging tightly onto his shirt watering the cotton matter within seconds.  The young lady possessing the human heart of other person’s welfares.  The message conquered her into the tenderest point, which is supposed to be untouchable.  The common word that was held by Kabason Macdonald caused its division producing itself, the same word fear entering her.

 

The clear sky, blue, turned into horrible darkness, the warm environment changed into a cruel, harsh, unwelcoming and all red hot.  Lastly, every human being turned into monsters.  When it was finished she held him tight, refusing even not to move from where they cocooned.  A dark gaze was opened before them; it will take a time to be shield from the innocent people. He hauled her up.

“Betty I am sorry of telling you what happened to my family. Thank you for caring and showing me your attention.” He said icily smothering down the fountain of tears.

 

“Kaba, I never knew. Truly of your status up to now, I am very apologetic and sorry for all that …………… kaba please try to forget it. It is so painful to remember. My kaba”.

 

“Okay” he sighed, resigning at least to dilute all those.

 

“It is nearly lunch time, let me take the mower to the store I am coming back” she blasted moving away with the mower. Her gazed at her, walking away. She had been cultured with an agar of mess and dreadful problems. The whole world had contributed to her loneliness. For all these years she had been lonely, it is yielded to a very human, vulnerable, workaholic, fiercely devoted growing young lady who had suffered greatly, yet she had found power and intelligence for adversity allowing to be the most compassionate young lassie before kabason’s eyes. He wished her good lucky in her life endeavors, throwing a victorious thumb at her.

Betty came back, walking in a gland style, her round well build hips pumping the empty air wonderfully; she wanted him to see how grateful she was build. She put her tapering hand over her mouth bashfully, rocking her head onto the lobby and started sauntering along the lobby towards him. A loud burst of laughter came along heaping herself into kabason, wrapping her arms about his body tenderly.

 

“Kaba, sincerely… I love you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yap, than anybody before you.” She said flashing to him. He was taller by one feet, medium build with a promising bone growth like his father; big boned. Yanking him along the impressive marble lobby across the blue reflecting swimming pool.

 

“I heard that you are going with my mom to Russia to pursue your tormenters, would you include me in the operation?”

 

“I don’t know wheter that can be possible, for one you are too young to listen to those dangerous silently plans we are going through.”

 

“No, there are many ways in which I will help, please, kaba let me be involved with you. For how long will I be left behind?” she went on in a blustering tone. “…I will be happy If I will be holding a machine gun automatic’ or if I will die alongside you. This short time I have been with you, my heart had grown with prospering love. Kaba. The first time I discovered you, I found love. My mom tells me I am a grown up and this is my time to be with you. Forever.” She said ruefully, giving him a maturing slow, wry grin.

The two were like the brantins along a beauty salon, or the ancient young prince and the princess of the Greece empires sauntering the stairs of the great majestic temple alone, without any guard, or their servants.

 

“You will remain here and guard our ego, if I will not return a life. The way I saw, the adventure might or it might fall not on us. Everything is vivid leaving much to be directed by the Lord.” Kabason nibbled, watching intently, her eyes darting with puzzlement flickering in her eyes fixed upon him. She touched and squeezed his hand with affection pumping blood that flowed swiftly destroying every sense on the way and lodge to Kabason’s brain, popping through his sharp eyes. She twirled him towards her, her head facing up to Kabason’s searching eyes. Releasing a magical love through her half elbowed eyes, so sexy. She entangled her elegantly ‘arms free from him, growing with toes, she brought down his head as he responded holding her across. The big sound of wonder for the first time was witnessed when mouth-to-mouth bond was bunged. They walked off together taking her outstretched arm wedding to the kitchen.

 

“I know sometimes, it gets hard to express my feeling I don’t have a sensual word to express the feeling, it is not there, but it is a feeling as if its of fear, but not fear within me when I touch your skin, when I realize that you are with me here, definitely forever and when I recall that we are still a life, that feel is in me as if forever.”

 

“Also do I?” she blurted, entering to the kitchen silently.

 

“Kaba, the hour had come for me to prepare for you my most precious meal      which you will remember to recall by its whiff… I tell you, it will be a lamb champ with a coriander orange batter.” She chuckled rucefully as she bent to the deep freezer. She took out her requirements and placed them on the table. Kabason sat on a mahogany chair toppled next to her, watching like a student in the chemical laboratory watching his tutor to carry out the experiment.

 

“Kaba tell me a good story as I continue to prepare your meal” she whimpered modestly. He shrugged a little and relaxed over the chair dumbfound. Betty marched together the batter, chopped and crushed mint, ground coriander, orange zest and salt and a paper to add the taste. Covering. She refrigerated for twenty minutes.

 

“I have seen you know, how to mix things. You will be cooking for me to add weight like you, alright!”

 

“Yap, more than that and when you like, you will be doing for me the cooking. I would also like to taste your meal.” She assured him hurriedly, watching her wrist watch keenly. After the timed minutes, she took the batter and mounted it using spatula rubber along the plastic wrap. She trapped one side of the wrap over the butter rolling it into a tube, twisting the plastic wrap at the tip; she refrigerated the butter until firm. Heating the broiler, brushed the lamb chops on both sides with oil, placing it on a grill pan until it browned on both sides with oil, placing it on a grill pan until it browned on both sides for five minutes. Removing the batter from the refrigerator without a plastic wrap, she cut it into half placing one slice on top of each lamb chop. She eventually garnished with mint leaves and orange wedges.

 

“Kaba, welcome to the dine room, this makes a welcome I had been waiting for all this time you had been here.”

 

He followed her to the dine room, Betty carried the tray, full covered with lamp champ and coriander orange batter, like a chef serving her customers.

 

“But, we are supposed to pray first before we eat, Betty.”

 

“I am sorry, next time you will show me how to pray, for we have never prayed.” She said gazing at kaba.

 

“Okay, you made it, at least something to recall for a season”. He fully goggled without a look at her.

 

“Mm-hm, I will cook more, the time will judge its aroma for the loved one like you kaba.”

 

“Wow, I dunno if I will.. I mean you told me about the armaments you have landed your fingers on, you meant what, Betty? There are weapons in this house?” “Okay, okay, I will pop your eyes today and now after we finish eating.” She frowned, confused about the wonder of Miss Kournikova with a sardonic look in her eyes.

 

“You mean you can work on any fire arm across your ranch?” Kabason asked as they walk to miss Kourmikova’s most private room.

 

“Yah, that is the work of my mom. She had been showing me on how to shoot and operate the machines of war, clean them, dislodge and how to in stole a time bomb without making any mistake.” She said crisply wading along the corridor to the firearm store. Betty never dared to care about the knowledge of her mother if they will be caught in action.

 

“She said, she will start to train you on how to use them, powerful and swiftly on counter attacks. It’s so tedious and dangerous, mostly like TNT powerful explosion, which can kill you before you in stole it manually. I am not really scaring you for what you have decided to do, but that is what actually it all contains” she assured him, expressing hurriedly with the help of both of her used hands. They stopped along the corridor when she asserted.

 

“Let me pick the key from mom’s bedroom. You can wait me here, I am coming.” She said jumping away like a rabbit away from the hawk’s craws.

 

“Hah, a good comrade to be!” he said groaning and half laughing. He watched her from behind intensively; you have digested into racial deity between the rejects of all racial, gender class and religious prejudice and there continue to murder innocent people without caring much. The thought drilled him hard.

 

Betty came speedily smiling dazzlingly towards kabason, keys dancing across her fingers as if they were made to do so.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that... Kaba? Do I look awful, yes or you are thinking about something.”

 

“No, I am not thinking about anything, only about you, how beautiful you are build.”

 

“Huh!, are you sure or you are playing with my intelligent-quotient”.

 

“Sure, you are one” he gave her a thumb. The iron door was eventually opened, she led him inside. The twelve feet room was damnly dark. She walked to the switch box that was held between two-iron rails above the door flame. Within no known recorded time, the deep darkness was consumed. The darkness, which has no source, went like a ghost to the walls, definitely consumed by the thinly air within. Sparkles of light entered through the bulb, which was mounted overhead. The light declared itself as the hero.

 

“This is the room before you where we store some of the most dangerous weapons you have ever seen.” she said cheerfully. She shut the heavy iron door, like those used by villains to shield their bloodiest arms, and slugged against it.

 

“Never be a coward, this is not a chamber of death, but of deadly arms.”

 

“The rooms is empty I don’t see anything or any weapon around, Betty what is the matter with you? Are you crazy, the room is empty.” Kabason chuckled. Instead she glared at him stupidly shrugged twice nearly randomly.

 

“Pull that tiny threat at the corner …… strong, again, pull” she commanded him. The madness was shown like a cinema screen, for Kabason that which had been misinterpreted by his wishful thoughts turned to be horror. Heavy-caliber automatic, grenades from different manufacturers, several stiletto knife, TNT explosives, two service to service revolvers, three submachine, automatic modern kalaschoves, a huge picture of Kournikova holding a deadly crossbow, a picture of combat aircraft showing her peering through its canopy and more and more. The whole arms were held behind an automatic iron shield which bursted and consumed onto the sidewalls.

 

Kabason felt dead down his throat, hashed. He took two steps back to run out never to return to this farm again, but the door was locked.

 

“Betty it is too dangerous to be here. This is unreasonable! You mean you are at war? It is totally contrary of what I expected here.”

 

“There weapons of death, you know kaba, they are not from mars.. No they are human made. They are your guard for tomorrow and you must learn to use them.” She cut him short, gazing at him astutely, triggered by the urgency in his quivering voice. Her face had changed from her usual innocent face to a cruel brave face of a tigress ready for war. The raucous tone brought a cold awe; kaba was scared to hell, even not believing her altogether, she is another ghost. She moved forward.

 

“Let me show you on how to use this Bergmann Mp38 sub-machine gun. World’s deadliest machine.” She toned authoratively flopping, taking it with power from the arm board as a retired commando. She swayed with it, properly held along her growing thorax.

 

“Kaba, follow me and cross the door behind you.” She growled moving away from him to the upper balcony facing the field.

 

Kabason felt weak, stupid and unsteady, all that groggy. The heavy machine was mounted across the open dormer-window, its muzzle directed to the north without any defined target. Without showing him on how to load the machine, she did it innocently with adopted grave expression.

 

“This deadly machine needs power and knowledge to handle it. Without that, it can throw you at a distant you will die to forget. Got me right, kaba?, you need to be a strong man. Not your weak, muscle.” Before her throat shut her hoarse low voice, her first firing did. Bullets went wild making kabason to behave like a rat face to face with python. He was expecting the earth bellow him to open and swallow him.

 

Betty danced with the sub-machine gun like a Texas cowboy training an arrogant Arabian horse. Kabason blocked his ears with both hands moving behind her. The sound sparks trailed him turning his faked face into scowl.

 

“Please, what the blind hell are you doing …… stop it for even a moment.” The big laddie grumbled nearly in tears.

 

“Relax, kaba it is just an introduction to hardcore survival. If you are ready for your exile man oeuvre, you curse yourself as unfortunate creature” her wistful tone digested his thoughts. The heated machine gun was no longer blaring now, she had released the iron trigger. She stood behind him.

 

“Now I have seen and heard what you meant, I request you to return it. I beg you to do it.” He said.

 

“I am returning the machine, but I would like you if I have messed with you to burdon me and forget it all together, yap!”

 

“Yah, I will try to get used with it later, not today nor tomorrow, Betty” he said cocking a friendly stare at her, throwing her giraffe’s nake, kissing him. He ruffled her hair roughly.

 

“You are a brave young lady I have ever seen. You are a desert warrior, totally born as a living.” He hollered as they swirled along the corridor-corners to Miss Kournkova’s arm-room.

 

The smell of lunacy in the will was coming although in a haze form, but will come. This time around they will go for it. Its whiff is so toxic for the survival of a human being. In the gnome world, it is dark and only invested with the most dangerous monster ever lived. Their survival if it will be, will not be governed by their wits, deadly weapons, power, no it will be strictly be controlled by your spiritual gods. The loser will be decayed as the evil spiritual power and the righteous will be the winners, definitely. The end will come and it is coming. It is a scary feeling, bad feeling and whoever will read his or her own name across their own tombstones during the dark-grey dumb night dreams, he or she shall die.

 

At around seven thirty evening hour, a heavy car roared towards its station wheezing badly as its engine stopped. Miss Kournkova rumbled out towards the porch; as the evening moon sprayed its rays on this queen. The evening hour was clear and quite. High moving clustered clouds were leaving the sky to have its form, and the moon to serve the night workers. Over the porch miss Kournikova stood waiting for the door to be opened. She had twice pushed the door alarm button. Next to her, her heavy luggage lay there next to her feet, all parked in a white bag. 

 

Her harms twined loosely across her breasts.  Relaxed she heard Betty hurtling crazily to the door.  The deep mahogany door busted open.

 

“Hi, mom.  Welcome home.  We have missed you a lot you have real overstayed.” She said clinging tight her arm, hugging her.

 

“How was the day? Betty?  Is he improving with his injuries?”  She bloated, ploughing with her luggage into the house.

 

“He is fine.  I enjoyed the day with him.”

“Kaba, nice to see you are improving.  I know both of you; you have waited me for long… I am here and now you can relax and feel protected.” Kournikova said.

 

“We are fine, the day was so fun and joyful.  No any problem and my wound are improving speedily.  I can walk around without any pain.  Hope your journey to Washington … Okay.” He said after being hugged and kissed leaving Betty’s eyes popping.

 

“I have bought the necessary for your training.  As from tomorrow we are going to do some orientation.  First I would like you to be very much used to the routes within Moscow, Severoduinska and architectural of those Russian buildings.  Also we will look at those doomed movements of Vladin.  I have some of sophisticated armaments and aid equipment, with me here and now, what it needs is proficient service men to carry them on.  It doesn’t matter the number of persons carrying the operations, it always depends your swiftness and intellectual ability.  A nuclear is a micro-element, but its destruction is worse than ballistic atom bombs.” She gave him a mind space of what actually war is.  Her blue glittering eyes gazed at him as if wanting him to say something although how foolish it will be.

 

“You said my father is being held by them, torturing him before they eventually kill him… ah, will we rescue him? And will the operation be save… I will like to see my father.  I will buy him with my own death.  I assure you, I am ready for any time to the combat.  I don’t know why can’t we involve the USA government to assist us.”

 

“Kaba, it is too late now to inform them, even those FBI, CIA, and even the Interpol, some of them are rotten, they are the spires of those lunatic terrorists.  They will never be trusted and if we alert them, they will come for us, you, I and Betty, for no government, military or police will stop them… just glorify them by their beautiful names.  They will do nothing do you know the growing poverty on this world had been orchestrated by the evil men.  They are here in America as NGO’s, to help unfortunate ones all over the world and walk out with millions and millions of dollars to buy weapons to kill the innocent civilians bringing more miseries, and poverty into the world…. Kaba, I have worked with those people, so many Africans, Asians and south Americans countries are indirectly or directly governed by these vellains.  In Sudan, Somali, Chile and the former Afghanistan, for example, much of their foreign aid land directly into Vladin’s pocket and in turn he gives hand in slaughtering any upraising in those countries.” She stopped talking abruptly as a chain of tears gravitated down her cheeks. Rocking her head, she smeared off the tears with her open hand; godanm it, curse it to hell. Her blue eyes turned smoky with a mystery of what the future holds for them. She felt it cool with a wave of fear across her body, her thoughts screening from the abyss, at the far centre, there was a dot of blood, oh-no, red blood.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

At around eight earl night hour, the social misfit family relaxed over the black leather sofa set away from the heavy super they had taken.

 

“Today night I am going to teach both of you the thesis of the ancient moon. For centuries, the reflector had served man but none had sat down to tell a tale about the images formed on it by our naked eyes. Not, understand not using a binocular.” She ejaculated as if the message had been fire into her. Betty and Kabason smiled wryly wondering whether they had ever seen the moon.

 

“Today the moon is high, but since I haven’t recognized anything peculiar about it. I have been a pedant and I have done much in nature study but that is one part I have never realist to think about.” She shrugged wittily. Betty popping her eyes as if she had landed away from the moon.

 

“Oh, Kaba, that thinly, hanging plate will not help us apart from nightmares.” Betty said.

 

“Yah, but we need to know about it whole, he blushed at her, looking balefully into her eyes.

 

“Okay, I will accompany you …… I wanted to watch a soap opera, let it go to hell with Richard and alike” Betty said scornfully, twirling around the sofa set like a seal or a walrus out of Atlantic sea water to its coastal line.

 

These begotten families rolled themselves up. At the centre Miss Kournikova held their shoulder blades towards her, forming a beautiful chain festooned across, the peaceful family. She was so tall to recommend, Kabason atleast growing to match with her height, but Betty you can mention none can predict how high she will go. Anyway she was slightly shorter than Kabason, they sauntered out the Manson to learn the moon mysteries.

 

Over the porch they sat together, leaving their skeleton legs free onto the first stairs down. Kournkova sat at the middle guided by the young Turks. All of them gazed at the moon, hushed. The sky was clear doted with evening stars with a blight moon held within the space. The weather was at its strange position, although the family were serged, it was warm and clear without any mist. The wild beasts were at peace at least for a moment. The night wind was nowhere, definitely it had exhausted or tired showing across the American World.

 

“That satellite had served miserable men and the evil one. Early sailors traveled with it through the wildness, nothing visible only the black seas. One of the darkest ages. … She stopped talking glaring at it, scrutinizing it to hell. And the image that she wanted to talk about traced smartly across her eyes.

 

“It is very clear now, you can recognize the two images without any difficulties. On our left there is a figure like, not like but a man standing like an abbot with an heavenly crown; that is the lord of righteousness and although we can’t see his face, he is as it looks listening to his superior. Those images are there even if you stand at any angle from twelve evening hour to the early morning, during the hour of darkness. The back of it curses the entire world up to a time when those images you see will turn to face the world and that will mark the end of the world evil.” She said, frowning.

 

“He is scared of darkness, that is why his face is against us.” Betty Chirped.

 

“Yes, because the world is full of evil.” Kournikova added. Everything was looking theologically to the two vigilantes.

 

“Lastly, choose to believe in righteousness and I baptize both of you both of you into everlasting love. Never betray each other, be like a brother and a sister. All that I have will be under both of you, but Betty will appear under my bank accounts. I wish you a successful future. Amen.” The last word allowed a sorrowful, fierce memory through them.

 

Kornikova had sensed the end of the world with her. Her thoughts were frozen with these begot believes which actually can’t be denounced for they are seen and always there. She brought them together and closer muscularly with her arms, which formed across along their shoulders with her left fingers combing through Betty’s blond locks and she murmured.

 

“Mom, I am feeling sleepy, let us go to bed.”

 

“You are going to sleep, we are not made to be here. For now you need to forget everything and remember today’s message as long as you live. He is your man”, she said arrogantly, her face reflected in a jaundice form, undeniably stunning and untraced hunger shot up through her gut. Kabason understood Betty’s problems mostly caused by the day’s hard work, so aware of giddiness in her. He didn’t want to enrage her in whatever angle. She rescued him.

 

“Betty we are going. You need to feel gay for all of us we are here with you. It is not our wish to be in this mess but.” He said at her sympathetically. Betty sighed leaning forcefully towards him.

 

The trinity moved fleetly back to their nests when a large dully cloud covered the moon bringing with it a dreadful feeling and loneliness to the outside world.  The movement into the house was slug and none was willing to say anything-even whisper.  She was from behind her head coiled to the ground.

 

Kabason and Betty heard a big and the door was shut against the darkness, when they realized that they had left her behind.

 

“You mean mom was not with us?” she darted back, disengaging herself toward the main door.

 

“Mom, we left you behind.  It is that crazy bang which made us to realize your presence.”  Betty whimpered.

 

“I was locking the door, you never left me back in such.  We are together.” She bombarded back cordially moving to Kabason’s room.

 

Good night Kaba, until tomorrow.  Have brilliant dreams, bye.” Betty added from behind peeking into the room.

 

The night was welcome as the astrologists in the house slept.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Kabason Macdonald festered by the spirit of war stood seventy yards away from their target.

 

“Make sure that central dote is within your range, okay! Spread your legs firm.  Cross one of you eye, the right one.  Your arms must be inline with your shoulder blade line… yes that way.  Now you inhale with your finger sickle around the trigger, without fear but with rage shot!” with the word, rage and shot, the explosion thundered from the mouth of the revolver releasing the bullet that jammed into their target like hell.

 

“Brave, Bravo, do it again.”

She did not believe it, three bullets embedded into the central point.

 

“Now, now, now. You can relax.  You will make the world’s best sharp-shooter.  You need a different gun, a riffle.  And this is a m-3 submachine.  You will start to train with it from tomorrow for seven days.  You must learn how to replace the chamber of cartridges, the magazine, within microseconds.  You get used with it being aware when the magazine is finished.  You shot to kill, no any hesitation!, you must do it, if not you will die.  When you want to cover your companion, you shoot your opponent, entertaining him or her with the trails of bullets until your comrade takes cover or out of danger.  Always be alert.” She said almost amiably.

 

“How long am I supposed to hold on shooting?”

 

“That is a good question.  Usually it depends on the type of gun you are using.  Like a kalaschove, it can shoot a target at a distance and it doesn’t heat up so quickly.  So it depends the type of the rifle you are using.  For that I meant don’t shoot for more than one minute nonstop.”  She said with a mild laughter in between.

 

Kabason can see through her proficient eyes how she had carnage mankind with her words.  She is an experienced killer.

 

Betty cuddled alone with a small charter arm.38 caliper, Israel made special.  Shooting in a rolling style toward her imagined target.

 

Nearly the whole day, Kournikova’s ranch was filled with gun’s bursts.  For one full week, Kabason was held in a training usually commanded by the Nazism, the kukluklan, the Al-qaudas, drug-mafias, sadam mercantilists, those world psycho-tumors.

 

“This dagger is coated with a poisonous chemical along its narrow edge.  This tapering blade, make sure when using it, there is no scratch on your skin. It paralyses within seconds with a mere scrub leaving the victim dead. Today I would like you to work on it, the whole day. Make sure you will learn on how to arrow it like a Chinese warrior. It must make a gnash and immediately pulled off.” Kournikova said, her cheeks smothered, caused by the hard training, turning her face into jaundice form, like that of a Red Indian.

 

“Will we go with the dagger…. I mean can it help us in large scale operation?”

 

“Yah! It is one of the best weapons and the most dangerous. Before we will declare the destruction of the building it will help us to terminate our foes as we move on without causing any alarm, introducing swiftly inside, doing away with the guards we meet on the way. Again if you end up with no bullets, what can you do? …This is the answer.” She replied to him, showing off the stillest dagger across her fingers.

 

Kabason was developing his boyish look so quickly disappearing replaced with a determined face of an experienced terrorist. Then as they stood there, abruptly a wild horse emerged as if it had been sent from a distant.

 

“Kaba, shoot it! And now”. Kounikova snapped threateningly looking deadly awful as a murderer. Her face darkened, a look that can scare monsters away engulfed her. Kabason went berserk with his eyes glowing blood shot. With his powerful sub-machine, hallowed like a tiger approaching its prey. He cocked the gun with wrath; his right-hand-finger sickled the trigger, the barrel firmly held. The muzzle directed to the scared animal. The trigger was pulled exiting the bullet free, crushing the air with spirks, ripping through the head of the wild animal mercilessly. It went up once, stumbling along the ground eventually heaping with force and rolled to where kabason stood watching. Kabason took one step towards it, but he stopped and stood still.

 

“Kaba, just walk to it without fear.”

 

“It is not death, Kournikova’, he stammered.

 

“Yes, it is not death,.. Move closer. Do it Kaba!”

 

Kabason hauled his legs to where the animal lay. His stubborn heart-bit was racing above the ordinary pace. His eyes projecting, bracketed with a trace of white cream. Then the wild horse protruded its big eye as it lay down in pain of death. Mercifully, the animal rolled its eyes around and gazed at Kabason. It blinked once with its eyelid shifted down the glittering tears to the ground. The eyelid locked, it is death.

 

“It is death now, Kaba, let us go I will come to bury it”. Kournikova said standing next to him gruffly making him to behave rough as a killer. Kabason has killed and now registered in the black books of murders. His game of murder had been started as the animals blood oozed and swallowed by the dry soil.

 

All sauntered back home. Miss Kournikova and Betty led leaving Kabason following them from behind three yards.

 

“Yes! It is death, why did I kill it?” Kabason murmured silently, his eyes turning bloodshot, puzzling. Suddenly the spirit of blood tentacled his psyche. He gyrated, gazing toward the slained animal, unaware; he started walking to the animal. His entire body was in a languor world and in a jumble state. The sparkle of demons occupied his mind, spinning around him strong and pulling him to his first-born death. At his left hand he held his rifle, his fist clenched tight. Sweat trickled from every part of his skin, walking to the slained horse. Kabason cocked his rifle, now held across his hand over the barrel. He hauled the trigger, with anger; the empty sound cracked the air and releasing itself to Miss Kournikova and Betty. The heavy sounds nearly throw them up the sky. The death horse again was sprayed with bullets mercilessly. Miss Kounikova and Betty swirled around like tigers, their face and mind revoked.

 

“Gosh, what is going around again? God forbid! Crazy world ………. Oh my God, what is happening with Kaba.” Unanswered questions stroke through her thoughts. Both started running up to where Kaba stood very confused with an askance behavior.

 

“Kaba!, stop it, it is enough ….. It’s death. Just leave it, have you heard me Kaba. It is over now, let us go home.” She mentioned it again, the horrible word; death. A world he should be used with as from this hour. Name, which marks the end of the living organism. Word that Kabason is trying not to be mentioned again without autocratic spiritual goblin’s power. Nothing would a mullet it, totally no protection against it. It’s as already fertilized and the zygote must grow. It has already landed forever with a crush! Kabason stopped shooting, but his eyes leered into the animal, motionless, without a word, so hushed like in the bottomless pit. Miss Kournikova walked to him, her heavy boots, smashing the ground with a sound.

 

“Crazy, let us go home. Are you confused, Kaba?, what is that are you staring at. It is over now!” she beamed. He raged away from her. Injected by the power of vengeance, behaving like a wild animal, he started crying, holding the gun barrel.

 

“Leave me alone Kournikova. Let me go home to where my parent are buried.”

 

“Kaba, stop it, I am only helping you. I know they will kill you. Allow them to think that you died on the way. Even those agents of Vladin, are out for your soul. Why can’t you understand Kaba?”

 

“And why did they kill my family? What did they follow my father up to here?, I mean what wrong way did my parents went?,…I have done nothing, I don’t know them. I have never heard them, but they are after me. Kournikova! …Eh, tell me where I will go and hide where they will not find me.” His cry of tortured mind was unbroken; a scream that diminished into a wail of agony.

 

Miss Kournikova was bewildered on what has possessed him, her hand brushing away the sorrowful rivulets of tears, which were springing down the big boys pampered face. Perplexed and confused, totally defeated on anything to ajar him, to think actually what is going on.

 

“Kaba, you are shielded to what actually the world is in now. The axis of evil had rose beyond control. They ere everywhere, the odious regime, drug mafiosis, kidnapping and hijacking aircrafts, bands of fanatic, bandicts, crooks, psychopathic killers, warlords, modern opium producers and the virtual anarchism exist which are after the innocent people like you. V/adin chosef’s evil moment, we have to conquer this regime from inside. That will be the only success will make to satiate your living spirit and you must make it come true now! To save your father from the vermilion tomb and that of many others.” She asserted.

 

Betty was watching them as if she was in a theatre watching unpaid play, holding her short gun with fear. The cruel feeling in Kabason’s mind was reflected into her tough and steady brain-nerves.

 

“Kaba, you promised me that you will mot misbehave, but what the hell are you doing? Why can’t we go home to solve everything there­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­-----Kaba let us go home. You are a man who needs to look more brave.” Betty beamed looking more contemptible than him but controlled by her words. Kabason looked at her dumbfounded as she came forward taking her stretched hand, strolling back home altogether as the broiling afternoon sun scorched them hard.

 

Miss Kournikova never believed what actually had happened by the brutality and swift decisiveness of the last thirteen minutes. Her anger, subsiding within seconds. She made one decision, to manage Kabason’s movement from this hour.

 

The day dawned with a bad form of penance but for Kabason was out of danger, he can even control a large arm of war, now he had been in this farm over forty seven days since he escaped from jaws of death. His body had grown enormously big. Every morning he goes for jump jacks, knee bends, somersault, a bit of Chinese judo, hopping up and down and waving his fists without getting tired so soon.

 

Monday afternoon after he did some shooting with Betty, they went to swim together when Miss Kournikova came to where they were swimming.

 

“Kaba, come to the desk board, immediately,” she said moving down to her mansion. Carrying a heavy box from her car, definitely gauzed by her staggering quick paces. Nearly immediately, Kabason emerged out of the swimming pool leaving Betty twiddling through the swimming pool like a female dolphin. Picking a fluffy white towel, he squeezed it into his ears to swallow up the adhering water. His swooping walking style reflected his ever solidly build, firm and revolved body along the marble lobby. The Manson swallowed him sailing through the lounge and leaned along the door-flame of Kournikova’s study room.

 

“…Kaba before anything, can you go and remove that soaking suit of yours!” she blandishment and gave him a look of mock horror.

 

“I look like a …… how do you call it? A shark out of water.”

 

“No, you look like an ugliest walrus.. Yah! Exactly then go and change there is something very important I want us to discuss together.” She snapped exchanging a look of concern over her auburn face and his staring eyes. The message was enough as he squinted his left eye funnily and brisked off judiciously. She was jabbed by his behavior, for only forty-seven days he had grown stalwartly big. He had already convalescent from the injuries with a strong and steady muscle of war. The thought shifted her like fire in the furnace; she cursed all causes, envied herself for the mistake identity, social misconception, age miscarriage carried onto Kabason’s misfit.

 

“The world doesn’t hold peace for me. It will never give me satisfaction only taking me to the other world of misanthropic mankind; hell.” She frowned as her thoughts flashed her mind with scarlet. She sighed with her fist smashed under her thinly cheeks, her eyes gazed crazily into the open door.

 

“Hi! Are you feeling well mom?”

 

“Oh, No I don’t know what is actually boiling within my psyche…. Only napping, crazy anyway. I have bought insanely expensive instrument for our siege. Explosions.. Transporting them is not such a big deal. Already I have arranged with some queer Boeing 767 pilot fanatics of evil to transport the equipment. We will not carry any assumed rifles from here; instead we will buy them in Berlin or in Russia, also with the explosions. Ultra-red waves binocular enabling the user to see, at night will also be taken by us. Again this device produces powerful short waves that radiates through any barrier not more than three feets in thickness. Among other equipments is a radio call installed with a transistor with a high frequency that will enable us to communicate early without interfering with their transmitters. And another thing is this machine.” She said amid offering Kabason a wristwatch although heavy.

 

“This is a compass, it is not a watch. But it is installed with a minute computing machine. It helps to trace each other if incase of anything. Also it can detect mines and any approach of a moving object, either a man or machines.”

 

“You bought it from where? I have never heard of it,.” Kabason said.

 

“I got it from my friend who is working among the highest American navy ranks … yap, a good machine and very reliable. Few men have it and only here in U.S.A. lastly I have bought intra-muscular injection which gives instant power, both physical and psychological.” She said looking weary, still staring at the instrument held within her stubby fingers.

 

“This machine has a microfilm which betrays the whole building of this friend, Vladin Chosef. When you button this yellow switch, the whole structure plus your movement will be clearly shown. It can help you to trace your way easily. Kaba, when you are nearly the building about hundred meters you switch the yellow button directing this sensitive antennae towards the complex for seventy seconds until this screen magnifies the structure inside it with the help of a telephoto within it. You switch it off after you have stored the required information.” Miss Kournikova said with a controlled irritation, leaning back over her kingly mahogany chair with a gesture of futility and exhaustion. She shifted back her ebony hair with a fascination look to the ceiling.

 

“How long will the siege take?” Kabason interrupted her wittily.

 

“We will take the shortest time as much as possible in order to safe guard our society. We will move in swiftly and powerfully before they will realize our presence.”

 

“How about the escape route?, will it be safe after the operation and if everything aborts, will we take the same fate as other prisons of slaughter?” Kabason asked with fear of the coming adventure on fire.

 

“Okay! If the operation goes ewire, you phone to the American embassy immediately to expose everything. There is a digital underneath the wrist machine with recorded signals, directly linked to the American Embassy in Moscow. When you break it, the recorded tapes will  alert the used CIA or FBI immediately. That will be your last thing to commit. If you will be caught in action, they will take us through the furnace of death; Total brutal execution will be guaranteed. To save you from this torture of death, I allow homicide to dominate our agenda. You must be a variant man. Do you get me right?, that is the thing you will do. You swallow these tablets, which I will give you, Kaba. It will be a ritual of darkness of our planned siege. Please be sure to save your father from this regime of diabolical community. And let that be!”  

 


 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Kabason MacDonald was issued with fake identification cards, his names duplication to Adams Harison, Chief Executive of Vital marketing services: sales executive.  His name also appeared as a shareholder of Miss Betty Rosevelt Ranch and several accounts that were transferred from Miss Kournikova to their names.

 

“Betty, I will miss you.  I love you wherever I go, I don’t know.  Whatever I will do, not to my wish.  And the future from now, I have left it to my God…. I need you more than ever, continue to pray for us, for I am going to rescue my father from the abattoirs of Vladin stay with a strong faith for meeting again.  Don’t betray me, for I will never! …. Put our love a sunder we will be together forever and ever.  Trust me.” He said as they sat together over the portico waiting for Miss kournikova.

 

The evening hour was full o f sorrow.  It was the last evening; definitely they will never be together again.  Closing their eyes to make a wish of life, a wish of jewelries, a wish of love and comfort; but not a wish of wrath from one flesh to another.  And there, it was left for eyes to scrutinize each other as their hands confirmed who they are and their brains making a jamboree for confirming themselves.

 

Alone, all alone on there own mars.  They were not exhausted from the long walk they took only held by fear with a dark horizon, temperature cropping threatening a worst summer of primitive ages.  All these welcome the adventure of a black cross.

 

“Now again you will leave me alone.  Was I born to be a social misfit?  For the three months you have been here, I had been in another world full of happiness; sorrow was no more but now here you are going some where with no defined future and our union being threatened with death.  Kaba, I beg you to inform my mother to let me go with you. “She whimpered, leaning towards Kabason’s shoulder, his hand went about her back.  He looked across her eyes, which were beaming with a clear though liquate, immediately shifted by her weak eyelid and rolled down her cheeks simultaneously.

 

“Stop! Betty, stop it you are my soul and I am your body.  It will be hard for the two to be separated I feel your care and touch, but let us continue to live if one diminishes.  For there will reach a time of separation… but not now.”  Kabason said enthusiastically as a prophet, maddened with visions.

 

Kournikova’s motor transposed as it changed direction towards her four hundred motor lanes with a low sound of its decelerating power.   It beamed beautifully through the willow trees planted along the lane, from the evening sun’s rays.

 

“Kaba! Mom has come.  Let us go and open the gate for her.  Betty said hauling him up with a glowing face.

 

Kournikova trampled the breaks, Kabason’s memory flushed back to when his last moment he was with his parents.  He recalled how they went to Cave Davi with his father happy reception, the happy moment, the happy time.  Bitter saliva and heavy with a sound, so inaudible, swallowed the memory.  He cocked the memo deeper and held the bursting tears now growing to adapt the hard life

 

“Hi, Kaba, why are you looking Dizzy, what is the problem?”

 

“Nothing madam… I am only feeling somehow giddy, only these.. You see”. He said icily, shrugging lazily as he slouched away from them.  Flopping, walking with throbbing headful of impossibility.  His head heaped inside the heavy creamy over coat, He walked to the porch-stairs without a glance to them.  Abruptly he twiddled facing Betty and Kournkova from the second stair.  His eyes turning blood shot and behaving trance, hushed.  The vermillion thoughts of his family hijacked him like hell.  The film of death was whirling with stars and at a distance an image was formed, calling, held in the doom of abattoirs.  Heavy manacles contaminated with stains of blood entangled around it and drenched of its own blood; his father’s.  The song sang when the demon paramount king of the demons was dead.  Then in between it a voice came.  “My son come and rescue me from here, don’t fear for you will not be killed just come and take me a way.  My son hurry up for you must trust her; she is a seraph, and holy one. “The gleaming waves of visions entered him the message conquered and wrecked totally his nerves, he swayed forward but he controlled a bit; again the power of balancing evacuated as his thoughts smothered him more like a swine toxicated with drugs.  All these took less than one minute.

 

Miss Kournikova moved next to him, confused she tried to make him talk he was hushed Kabason collapse, down.

 

“Kaba, what is happening with you? Are you feeling unwell ….Kaba?” Miss Kournkova asked with a face full of disappointment and so disgusting.  Then, like emerging sun from the eastern horizon, the young man sat with a queer look at her.

 

“Madam, I have seen it, my father is in a severe torture chamber. He needs help. They have manacled him, thrushed him, leaving him in a pool of blood. I am going to save him. I don’t care what will happen to me. I am going, I must go.” He yelled out his left hand holding Betty tight glearing around nervously as if the next minute their enemy was going to emerge from nowhere.

 

“Relax, I told you to be ever steady and ready. No need of thinking so hard about our siege. Do you understand? Behave like a total soldier. Our operation will go through without any trouble at – all, at – all, never. Are you getting me right?” she growled, fixing her strong eyes onto him.

 

“Yah, I understand. I will be velour to the last moment.” He murmured dryly looking at her peacefully.

 

“Yes, tomorrow we are off to Germany. So that on Thursday morning we will be in Russia without any slit of problem. I want you to get more stamina; that is psychological build up and to behave proficiently.”She said crisply slouching into the house.

 

Betty was from behind them, screening unrealistic events behind her wistful mind.

 

“Mom! How will I know your security? How will I know the status you will be in? …. How long will you go? Tell me mom?” she asked gruntedly trailing them from behind.

 

Miss Kournikova loved her as far as this moment, more than usual; enormously. Along the lounge to the living room, she turned around facing her with a judicious tone.

 

“Betty, I can predict undefined future. There is nothing in it too clear to tell you. We are going to venture in death. The tenacity of which you want is either death or life. That is all I can tell you by now. It pays nothing to promise you of our future only to ask you to be patient until that time comes on you, but also your time of waiting for our coming will be bought with all times. That is why I have transferred every little torture I have been collecting on this heathen world of yours to you sometimes man can predict his own life by the strong instinct of fear, of which is controlling me. It will not scare me of anything for I will go out and fulfill my desire of murder. I must kill him for he is the cause of all these; he killed your parents in cold blood. He must also pass the same way and this will be his time. I don’t want anybody different to commit this for me; I will do it alone. I don’t want to be hearing him any more..” She gave out a horse low voice with a tanned grave expression across her face, her popping red shot eyes glittering like those of a great poisonous python.

 

The garrulous young lady was consumed with silent only gazing at her awkwardly. Her eyes were gaudy to see clearly, chained with hers. Crazy she gained her way on. Picking Kabason who stood two yards away.

 

“Let us go on, there is some information I want you to learn.. We are left with only..” she glanced at her wristwatch, computering the time up to tomorrow eight morning hours when they will aboard the British Airline via London – Berlin to Odessa’s International Airport.

 

“… Fourteen approximately hours from now of which you will be with very high sprit of war and of top as an hero … Betty for you this time you will accompany us to the study room at least to give us a thumb on our siege. I know you are a lucky dove.” She blurted out taking a quick look over by the over her, who was disturbed by the overt killer’s splendid of her similes.

 

“So, mom, I can’t offer any onerous in whatever angle towards your mission. You know I can handle any type of gun within my reach even the turkey’s super service multiple launcher… Please mom, how can I stay in this world alone for all these time? Why am I locked within this bushy world always? Better I to be killed in action of rebellion than to be chained in a world of no freedom.” The young lassie consigned back like a brutal ass against its Arab master.

 

She took a slow move as if to stop, within a hushed surrounding tottering into the study room. Kournikova twirled facing her at a distant, staring at her as if she was a foreign particle within her reach. She was badly muddled by Betty’s spirited power of speech. With a raucous sound, she pouted.

 

“Betty’, my daughter can you – understand the situation beyond your pointed nose? You are my only being to trust on. I don’t have anybody to care apart from your body and soul. For that do-as I tell you! No more quarreling with you. Be silent to welcome the good fortune from our presence and not your unfortunate spirit of death or blood …… stop!” Kournikova heated back forcefully as a total abbess. Her face turned gray, holding the cobra’s eyes.

 

It was one of the most scaring gazes Betty had ever witnessed since, horrible and full of scaring nightmares. Unbelievable, she had changed from the loving mother she used to love, cherish and stay waiting for days above the balcony, watching, anticipating for the mirage of her mom to emerge into her real image of Miss Kournikova; the effigy of the hypostatic woman now at its real form. Yah, days when she could play her anthem of elegy; the song of sorrow to guide her mother from the evil tentacles, eventual bringing her home after waiting from sunrise to sunset for, …… sometimes seventeen lonely days. Yes those all cold hours. Now she has changed to an oracle, a blood sucking being out to cause a gruesome death.

 

She held the desired silence, suppressing her boiling temper. Her faith directed her to go back straight to her bedroom to square all these, but her conscience pounced back telling her to enter to the study room with them.

 

The young lassie entered into the room, after all contented and proud for both of them are misplaced. The ranch now belongs to her: Betty Rosevelt as a Sole Owner of the entire six thousand hectares plus some lavish accounts of which this used up Kabason, holding only thirty percent of the shares. And with her nothing, the dying horse which killed my parents. But I love them. Jesus what am I thinking about? She signed, taping more powers from her findings.

 

The Russian Map was spread over the deep mahogany table.

 

“Now, Kabason, I want you to be very attentive. This merchant of evil Mr. Vladin Chosef stays here at Severodvinska several miles away from Moscow. Exactly North Eastern of the city. This is where the enormous edifice gnome is situated. Seven kilometers from the centre of this town …… “She growled threateningly sending the message of genie, the spirit of strange powers of war. The strong indignation of vengeance wringed her. Leaving the atmosphere within the sedated study room full of agony and fear, she picked up from where she had left.

 

“…. We will land at Odessa passing across the black sea. Here we will purchase our required weapons and we will hire a powerful car with a strong engine for seven days. It takes seven days being assured that in between we would have finished our mission. Yap! ….. From Odessa we will drive to Donetsk where we will stay for only two days to gather the knowledge of what is going on within this evil kingdom. Form here we will travel the second night to Tula. Here we will arrange our attacking system. In Moscow it will be easy to learn where they are camping for their Marian endeavors. Your father is jailed in Sevelodvinska. From Moscow we will pass through Volgda before we eventually arrive at this cold stricken city of the goblin; Mr. Vladin. It will be here where we will exonerate your father from the jaws of unforgiveness. Trust me; everything will be done as per my expectation towards your desire to see your father alive. Okay?

 

“How can you trace Mr. Vladin and his entire group and at the same time free my father?” kabason blushed as his growing stalwart body bore the imprint of his father with those questing arched fine eye brows and the stormy bushy black hair overflowing. His wistful tone grumbled up expecting much to be done or to be said, he continued.

 

“…. You never mentioned anything towards our escape route after we have done off with the operation, look here; it is only today and now. Tell me completely about everything and on whatever we can communicate to Betty about our progress or anything related.” He held the hush as Miss Kournikova was circling the island on the Russian map North of Severodvinska, Frans Josef land.

 

“If fortune will fall on us, we might catch both at once. Mostly I am expecting him to be at Severondviska, where they are building some biological weapons. Let us hope that he will be there. Second, we might wait until the man gets to our trap, because both operations are not independent of each other. Third, you leave with Betty alone for if incase you telephone form Russia, there are many fiend groups of Russians that taps on every movements between these two countries and those who are on a marked line …… excuse me a bit! This man named Vladin works for the Russian government so much in the knowledge of assassinating the Russian enemies all over the world. The Marxism against capitalism. Again these people are trailing my movement all over the world to do away with me. So no any commercial communication will go between here and Russia. You stop on it as for now.” She said. Thirty minutes later they walked out of the study room, Betty heading to her bedroom and both Kournikova and Kabason heading to the living room.

 

“Kaba, please come back here, before you go to your room ... May I request you to say bye to her. You know... I think you know it; she will miss you, sometimes for the rest of her life. I have given you permission to say that …. In her room. And I will call you up from your room very early, around four of the morning hour. Okay, Kaba! Good night.” She grinned stupidly cocking her eyelid reflecting her fulfillment of evil.

 

“But she will be asleep by now. How can I disturb Betty? Why can’t I leave her in peace?”

 

“No. I know the state she might be by now. Just do it to justify her loneliness and assure her of our coming back. Are you getting to the point correctly? “She suggested moodily with her evil lecherous stare, squeezing Kaba’s wrist affectionately. He nodded and shrugged avoiding her gesture, and flicked her critical smoldering stare.

 

Kabason hasted upstairs leaving Miss Kournikova at the living room arranging several documents definitely her fake, useless papers and some nude machines.

 

On front of him lay Betty’s bedroom door locked and quiet. He hesitated to knock as he approached the door. Betty’s eyes swatted across Kabason’s mind, her words flushing back to him – Kaba please don’t leave me alone. For all this time you had been with me I have been with happiness and sorrow was no more... The voice, I don’t know how to call it, a dream or what, maddened Kabason and instead of knocking again, he hustled the door crazylily. The arrogant sound pumped the innocent young girl out of her dreamland.

 

“Betty it is me. Open the door.” Kabason’s voice waived ghostly into the room lodging to the eager ears of Betty. The voice although hurtled and rough was received with harmony and joy.

 

“Kaba! I am opening the door for you.” She said, her hand turning the cold iron forceful. Eyes met as the door cut the barrier.

“Have you been waiting for long Kaba.”

 

“No. I am sorry for disturbing you. I found it…. Oh no!” She told me to come here to you to say a word of goodbye.”

 

“Yah, get in and tell me whole what she told you to tell me. Don’t hide anything from me. Yap.. Am I going with you, Kaba?”

 

“No, just to wish you a bye.” Again he repeated the same word which she never wanted to hear; a bye. A rouse bitter feeling germinated up her gut and an expression of grimace submerged over her face. For a moment silence fall in, he was confused what to do next as he stood over the threshold staring ot her look unperceived. Without a word, she yanked Kabason away from the entrance and immediately she closed the door behind him. She smiled, gazing at him dumbfound, stretched and lastly blinked her green eyes against her sleepiness.

 

“Come, let us sit over my bed and feel my sweet words before you jump off to your bombardment.” She jabbered and hauled him towards her bed. She wore a white nearly transparent off the shoulder scaasi nightgown that commanded a slender seductive figure. Slowly Kabason projected his hand as they sat across the bed, as her eyes strike an object to be, a power green diamond necklace clinging around her neck and a rabbi. With his fingers he touched it tenderly as his gaze rose, up to her eyes.”

 

“I have never seen this. You mean you have been wearing it all it is time, Betty?” He asked with an excited tone.”

 

“Yes, I have been wearing it since my mom bought if for me many years back, I can’t remember when. But I have been with it for these long, Kaba.” She answered him; her fingers went around her neck and unlocked the chain. Steadily like a dream, she transferred the most private, expensive gift to Kabason’s heavy neck and manacled it around his neck and smothered it softly with her fingers. There was a gold molten heart with a diamond arrow across it. Inside the heart-box was a shield of her name, BETTY. Kabason moved close to her, his mouth searched to her mouth. A breath full of hazy love was exchanged. The two virgins entangled to each other and their human circuit was completed. Her nightgown clinging, defined her full rounded body aided beautiful by the majesty reflection of the blue-yellow lights mouthed over the ceiling board. He kissed her again and again. Her temperature rose with affection. She started breathing like a hog for more and more. He pushed her aside at least for a breath. Her eyes turned weak and appealing.

 

“Kaba, kiss me again dear, I really love you.” She murmured dryly as her fingers scrawled softly down his face, feeling very stupid and unable to think what actually was going on. His love penetrated into her, conquering her like an arsenic powder with a joffy feeling wishing to stay forever.

 

“I am kissing you… there is a request I want from you.”

 

“Just say, I will do as you want.”

 

“To wish me a lucky and successful maneuver, after that I will return to stay together with you.”

 

“I wish you more that that. I will be praying for you my secret anthem of elegy using my saxophone every day until the time you will be back. I believe in it. It is the same instrument I have been playing for years. When she goes out for her dangerous adventures, I believe its powers will bring you back.” She said with a managed irritation.

 

“Oh, my God”Kabason drew out the words taking an expelling motion in a cruel act and whispered.

 

“You are a heathen girl, do you believe in Christ?” “No, what is Christ? “My mom had never told me about that for all these years.”

“I am sorry, but Jesus Christ is our Lord, the Savior. And I am a Christian. I will tell you much about Christ and he will protect me and you.”

 

“But also I will continue praying for you using my saxophone.” She jaunted to him; her hands clung tight around his body with her again. His left hand squeezing her breasts softly and affectionately. She moaned pushing him to the bed to discover their adventure of nature. Kabason with a glance at Betty’s nicely tanned legs; he was witched, pushing her nightgown up. She frowned and sat back assisting him to peel her. Crazy it was her first act to be nude before a spending young man. Quickly she folded her arms across her bountiful bare breasts and pouted.

 

“Please, sweetie, put off the lights first and come to me for the night. I want you to …”Then… Then, Jesus, the ascending sound of Kournikova trudging up the stairs changed every motion and commotion within.

 

“Kaba, you are supposed to be at your bedroom by now! What are you doing in Betty’s room for all these two hours?” can you go and sleep!.” Her cry as she was tramping to Betty’s room boomed along the corridor, cursing, came penetrating every barrier and senses into their nerves. Betty was maddened; she pounced into her nightgown like a tortoise that had been swatted across its head. For Kabason, you can’t even dare state it, he felt stupidly shaky as if to take off the entire building down and escape to the far heavens or something equally weird. By the time the door jingled, everybody was in a state of ignorance.

 

“Kaba, time for bed and you Betty you can sleep. I will come here very early in the morning to give you bye before we go. Ah…. Anyway I know you have enjoyed yourself at least. Goodnight.” She said pulling the door leaving her prisoned inside alone.

 

Kabason was out off to her bedroom. For an obnoxious reason, he envied her more, sailing down the stairs, bypassing the lounge caressly without caring and bumped into his room. He reached the switch behind the door, turned out the lights and went on undressing as he walked to the bed. The bed held the quietness and abnormal cold. As he gloved into the ribbed sheets with a slight shiver waving across his body. Kabason lay there, the feeling of warmth slowly started rolling in…. Betty, sorry for your loneliness I will be back to comfort you. He prayed softly in the darkness. He crossed his wondering eyes and waited for the sleep to engulf him. The night was there again as if every event was returning to square one. Always fear and darkness was there. The darkness touched the zenith to the deepest part of the greatest seas. The night held the abnormal silence. But tomorrow will mark a point of evil against righteousness. Again it was coming from the far horizon.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Miss Kournikova at her dressing room, the wall clock jammed at exactly three-morning hour. She felt premonition stinging into her soul with a harsh, cruel sound of the greatest siege genie tentacled her from the zenith.

 

“I am not a contemptical woman. Useless!” she prayed loudly to build her valour of war. But nothing will simmer the fear in her as the picture of Vladin screened clearly across her damned brain nerves. She sighed deeply, spreading herself in front of a huge dressing mirror. She placed hot rollers at random all over her head, after full arranged she worked in a dab of finishing product to define her pulled – back style. Catching the hair back softly, she secured it with a covered band, and pulled it halfway back through the tie into a loose bun. She shook her head throwing the mess slightly. She picked six different sets of icons to attach to her toe nails and finger nails, selecting the longest “stiletto” nail long, almond-shaped and ends inpoint, eventually she bolted them onto her fingers betraying her stubby finger to look like the hawk’s claws. She selected the smartest tops; heron-print shirt and devore checked shirt and rolled them into her knapsack. Taking a leatherette shirt, she swimmed into it, bottomed with a black silky heavy trouser. Her foot was felted with cream strappy sandal with silver heel. Everything was shelled with a black leather mackintosh to complete the ensemble.

 

Pinking her .38 caliper special, she threw the heavy loaded knapsack across her back, leaving a note over the living room. She met Kabason also emerging from his room fashioned and handsome ready for the operation.

 

“Morning, Kaba! Ready?”                   

                                                

“Yo! I am ready, for the brigadier to test my bullet” he said cheerfully as he pounced like a basketballer towards her. He hugged her with a kiss. “Let us move now! We will take a taxi from here to Washington and by ten, we will take a fright straight to Berlin where we will take a night and do some purchasing.” She frowned turning her face into sneer. They fleeted alone the lone, the undertakers out for an agent surgery.

 

Both wore black leather overcoats with Kabason in his usual shiny vinyl raincoat shelling a Marjory cool jacket with a lush. Look. It was a chill early morning with a slight mist, still and not windy. On the highway seven minutes later, a taxi beamed up. The chauffeur crushed the breaks, its wheels buzzing along the highway to a stop next to them.

 

“To Washington! How much? “She asked toppling to the chauffeur.

 

“Forty dollars. Get in.. The weather is changing speedily to definitely avalanche types of those awkward weathers.” The chauffeur jabbered, opening the rear door of this old Royce – Royce but driven with a powerful Chevrolets engine. This sun tanned man looking like an Indian rajah, started the powerful engine and expertly shifted the gear leaving the wheels vibrating with a steam like smoke from its tires. The vehicle hurtled forward beaming across the tracks into the hazier surroundings.

 

“Kaba, you must control your American Pidgin as from here. Let us talk less unless when we are in a hotel. Don’t dare to stare at anything. They might interpret us to be visitors. Your short gun must be next to your fingertip. Don’t dawdle when shooting. I want you to swallow my words and cling them into your nerves. Proficient is very important in any operation. Blood should be your routine taste, just have it to be a normal color.” She whispered to him, moving next to him as a wife and a dandy husband. Within this short time her face had grown into a muddle state of a killer.

 

“I feel like I get that man face to face. I can even swallow him alive. It is stupid for a figure of a man to try to smoke innocent people with his venom. And I can assure you, we will boil his flesh with sulphur. I don’t care which or types of state we might be in, but my hand will direct the hot metal to his devilish head. More so, I thank you for your intelligence so selective towards this assail. It is a cruel act in this civilized world for a man to try to slaughter other people as if we are in the middle ages.” Kabason bathed directing his breathe slightly leaning to her.

 

“You know this game I have played it for long, first a location is uncovered, second an essential collection of paranoiac guided by wealth eccentrics who are normal knacks of a diabolical killer society but badly misinformed about life philosophy and governed by outrageous contracts of terror which makes man wild to kill. Lastly a dual execution is guaranteed to rinse the human righteousness’. Those three principles must be carried first. They make their minds eager at all times to commit evil. Now, we are going out for them to wipe them. I am proud that egos I can say mostly from you for revenge, money and we know our target where to get him. We now move carefully and swat this fiend once forever.”

 

Miss Kournikova twittered feeling somehow released after he had given out some of the secrets from her underground worlds of goblins.

 

The taxman spanned the wheel and bashed the accelerator leaving the old combined motor vibrating along the highway track to Washington like a rocket that had been fired across the Arabic desert. The sun made from east as its rays filtered by the ragged trees and jagged rocks glimmering directly into the moving motor.

 

The two without the shield as the vandals of evil took their tinted black spectacles and mounted them across their griming eyes to guard their public notice and the cruel germinating sunshine. Kabason now as Adams Harison adjusted the flames and jerked his hand towards her. Their faces reflected each other as she also had twisted her pumped up head to face him. Both grinned awkwardly without any defined reasons and she squinted her left eye. The pair of glasses was so dark and consumed the message.

 

Within two hours the motor was few kilometers away from Washington, buzzing through the disappearing mist like the empress magic arrow of the Indians out to cause trouble. The warmth had blossomed within the car resulting to a flamboyant comfortably to its passengers mostly aided by the heating engine.

 

“To the king’s Street, G.F Kennedy International Airport.” Miss Kournikova said approaching the district business centre.

 

The driver without further instruction rolled the chattel taking off to whitestone highway and fumed the motor zigzagging the stagnant although moving vehicles as if it was a runaway case. Kabason buttoned the window switch and the glass rolled up, locking them from the outside. The hush inside the car brought a whirling thought of war, which gave kabason a mild case of cold sweats. He tried to fancy actually what real war is; he failed. Baptized, Adams Harison was totally confused, spinning all types of war he had seen in violent cinemas but he would not duplicate to the operation he is facing ahead.

 

“Madam, I don’t know what to ask you but it concerns with the variant characters one should develop before he faces his foe… Or to look innocent.” Harison asked with cold formality, his face stinging away from her.

 

“First, you assume that there is nothing wrong going on. Second, be what you are; don’t force events to take cause through you. Third, there are only two ways either to fail or to succeed. For everything be taken to be normal. I may say premonition may be controlling you by now, but also those are the feelings, which will guide you to act violently and forcefully without appalling. First you set a goal and make sure that goal colonizes your psyche totally. At least in every angle you are thinking on is carnage and after extricating your father from the furnace of venom.”

 

“Any way let us go and see what we will offer,” he assured her hurriedly and sighed expelling along deep breathes.

 

As they approached the airport Harrison’s blood flow turned cold as in Antarctic wintry electrifying a mild wave of fear throughout his body. Miss Kounikova threw her cobra’s eyes fascinating him like an emerging ghost. Immediately Harison retained the lost power of braveness, avoiding her stare.

 

The car was parked along other taxies, the parking lot. Miss Kournikova with her comrade dressed in a jean and leatherette shirt and a dark blue sweater, black gloves summarized with a shiny vinyl raincoat. They hurtled towards the passport control and customs. The queue was not such long as they lined innocently. Adams Harison held his attaché case shielding bank notes; euros and several dollars and his fake passport under young man out for big things. His fate, comforting him as somebody who has taken several trips abroad. He assumed everything around, and where he is or going. His spirit gnawed with sore enthusiastically prepared for his family and torture his father was adjuring through.

 

“Gentleman, your passport and your identification, please.” A smartly dressed young lady of about late twenties asked him casually with a defiant smile on her lips reflected his smile responded assuming the glance of a short and angular baldheaded man with a combed back long hair curling at its end, giving him the most startling stare of not a damned log. Adams Harison tossed his attached case over along counter and opened the blinds. Without hesitation he offered to her the documents.

 

“Here they are madam.” He responded smartly as if yesterday he was with her. She grinned at him welcomingly.

 

She went through the passport as this cynic fellow worker next to him leaned towards her as if he had sensed something weird within. Harison assumed that he had not noticed anything wrong with this man’s behavior. The lady, satisfied, stamped the passport.

 

“Adams Harison, May I wish you a prosperous fright to Germany … I think you are very young to that big business man.” She said amid offering him the passport and his identifications.

 

“Thanks a lot and your name please!”

 

“Janet Vickson, Miss from Carolina.”

 

“High pleasure, and good luck in your work.” He finished there. Taking his document back, slouched off leaving her gazing to him.

Miss Kournikova stood at the inquiry office some meters away from Adams Harison, pretending to be inquiring the meteorological department about the weather in Germany by afternoon although her real intentions were to watch and hear on how Adams Harison will be handled through the checkpoint. For Adams Harison the appall in him was cleared after passing the first test, he trudged comfortably as normal to where Miss Kournikova stood, with his eyes fixed at him, with one destination totally controlling his thoughts. They walked off to the canteen busting through the revolving glass door. Harison, judicious as if nothing had happened or going on.

 

Time was reducing drastically, bringing the image of war near and nearer. The wretched victims sat at the far corner of the canteen.

 

“The next way-out will take a lot of energy. I would like to take something like cucumber, mint and yogurt. ”She said warmly raising her eyebrow congratulating him the way he had behaved so far. He nodded for her approval as she selected her variant Moroccan lamb tagine.

 

“One hour from now we will be off. As their timetable indicates, we will take about four hours to Berlin if no weather changes to be reported.”

 

“So we might be there around evening hours.”

 

“Yah, I hope so. At least it will enable us to camp at secure hotel easily.” She said as the fragrant directed the coming meal carried by an Indian young Lady. A low profile was taken as the meals were laid on their table. Abruptly, a stocky man wearing long thread locks hurtled along staring incredulously around definitely looking for somebody. Then, Miss Kournikova rocked her head to the floor signaling for Harison to do the same. The whiff of her foe immediately consumed her peaceful state. She stood without wasting any second, beckoning Harison to follow him.

 

Thirty minutes to take the flight now contaminated by a mugger whom Miss Kournikova knew so well out to command murder. They sailed off without looking around the customs office and saluted within the people.

 

“Wait me here and don’t move!” the iron lady said winging to the escalator amalgamating excellently through the population taking the lift to where she can view clearly below. She stood over upper count; peering across her shoulders like a cheater veiling a beaming glance. The spyman was caught by a witch’s eye. He darted around. Searching madly under the black goggles. A tiny premonition of panic began to lick at Miss Kournikova throat giving birth to a real anger shooting through her like a gulp of arsenic poison.

 

“What is this monster doing here, he had not stopped trailing me for this long?” She said her voice was low and husky, her gaze following his hasting movement. She was dazed, without thinking much she hurtled down stairs taking two moving escalator stair assuming her motion to be more than urgent without causing any commotion from the security within. As fatal sagacious seraph, out to restore peace.

 

“Harison watch my movement within ten minutes and make sure I am not out of your reach. Let me follow this man his intention of belonging here, he is one of them, take care.” She moved along the airport lobby very confused to what actually was happening but very contented to face anything, anywhere but not this earl.  Fished her wicked man out from the multitude. The man was accompanied by other black dressed men jostled through the moving traveler to the parking lot and slouched into their long black limousine and rolled off passing just a few meters away from where Kounikova stood watching them. The man sat back-left communicating to what seemed to be to somebody who had betrayed her or who sent him to look for somebody traveling. Definitely she is among the request form of death; the black list of Vladin.

 

She wanted to trail them from behind using a taxi but she decided to try another option. Definitely they might trace where I stay. What a hell. She sighed almost imperceptibly.” Does it mean these people want to enter into my colony? “She moaned silently and took off to a telephone booth about seven meters away from where she stood. She felt bilious of these men out to contaminate her dangerous operation ahead, oozing a kind of mood that starts types of Hitler’s war. Her beauty was blemished showing clearly her temper when dealing with hooliganism. She jerked into the telephone booth and plucked the phone receiver buttoning her home phone number, like somebody who had been caught with paths across.

 

“Betty, listen these, the horse to be taken to its stable and locked. All curtains to be thrown, the windows and the door to be locked. All interior doors to be locked with automatic keys. You move to the underground safe room and stay there for the next two days without any slight movement, even if there is a blare disturbance, don’t move. They are coming for you, take care!” Miss Kournikova blatant out. Glancing around like an utter which had just emerged out of its hole?

 

“Mum, where are you? I am scared mom, please. Come back home. Is Kaba still with you, mom? “She warbled gently with a weak voice sounding musical, but stressed by sorrow.

 

“Daughter, we are still together and there is nothing that has happened to us. It was only to alert you of any… No just do what I have told you. I will be back soon.”

 

“Soon, what do you mean by soon? Tell me exactly when you are coming back … Are you still there, mh! Mom, mom … “No one was there to answer her, to comfort her, to assure her. Nobody. She gazed at her watch.” Exactly ten minutes to take off to Germany, where is Harison.” She said to herself, moving off towards where she had left him. Graffing through the innocent travelers controlled with fear within her. She got him, like an eagle that had sported a rabbit from the firmament without a mistake. Her fate in him, which was glowing stately, directed her towards her only trusted and all that vigorous man; somebody to oil her heavy worked brain. Wading along the lobby to him.

 

“It is okay, they are looking for somebody definitely they are after me. For along period of time. But it is so hard to achieve their subject.” She said in undertone as they were tottering to the 707 Boeing airplanes.

 

“Definitely, I can suspect that, but these cold blooded invaders might be out for a mysterious reason. They are out to silence somebody they are needed to be handled with a lot of care.” She howled with her thoughts spinning unrealistic images of these men coming to her house while asleep.

 

Both stood waiting to be ushered into the aircraft, posed and looking extremely pashed although carrying some of the worst cyclone ego of revenge. The louder speaker announced the hour of departure, it blatant as they showed up into the spaceship. They entered into business class and sat together on their left column the fourth low. Her face-make-up as they sat together changed to specula, so blond.

 

“Now at last we have managed to enter another stage without any detention from these traffic police.” His raucous voice submerged the silence that was trying to develop.

 

“Yah, but we will not take everything to sail all that smooth until we step on the last line of operation is when we will try to conclude our furtive.” His tone sounded bitter as his face was lit up from the gender atmosphere she was creating.

 

The louder speaker burst out announcing the departure to the northern tropic. The safety belts were tightened across every passenger in the flight. High tense of fear watered every soul in within. Even the brave men held their breath for a moment to direct their hearts where to start pumping from the fresh liquid. The plane engine was fired making the propellers to send out a tremor to awaken its huge body.

 

And there, they sat two executioners out to mess with God’s creation. The heavy aircraft propellers shattered the air mercilessly making the wheels to trample the ground like the dinosaur crushing the empty earth. It ran forward as its speed and sound confused the basic hearing. The giant engine eventually made up against the earth’s gravity and started grinding damply through the haze, slowly and steadily the plane rose through the rugged low clouds gaining its required height.

 

Adams Harison being his first time boarding a plane, he was totally amazed and confused what was all this about.the louder speakers announced for its passengers to release their belts and relax. The aircraft muddled the son of a slained soldier making him to forget what he was real up for, mademoiselle Kournikova with her malicious feelings, yawned noisily shaking her head slightly, she turned over the huge air seat towards him grinning and gave him a thumb. She bent towards him and kissed him affectionately. Always evil.

 

“How are you feeling? Your first flight! , I know it will stun you like hell. But never be a coward, like those groveling devil’s servants. Be brave, you are a man …… you are supposed to care for me… Harison.” The seraph woman blurted as she stuck out her right leg across over Harrison’s.

 

“Wow! You are more experienced in this type of World than… I can say anybody. You see, you can make anything to look legal. So perfect beyond any of their detection. I really like this game.” Adams Harison. Answered dully with a faint smile and kept staring at her incredulously.

 

“We will be in this emptiness world for more than four hours … if there will be weather changes, we will be derail abit mostly in London before we take again to Berlin; aquet city within a most murderous country on the world. You will enjoy for a short while there. At least to arrange for alight aircraft to take us to Russia. I have a good friend of mine who can take us swiftly without any danger from outside. Nice boy, with that if nothing will cook up we will mark our target easily.” She said making the siege to look very easy to wade through.

 

“Excuse me madam?”Adams Harison blared with atone which can be concluded by her before he bursted out.

 

“What are the dangers of this mission? It looks some times weird on my side” .He asked popping his eyes out as if he had been asked by a doctor to so for examination .The queer queen nodded, her head leady to answer him; what exactly the boy wanted. She signed to let the word sound in its leally form  “DEAD” She blared, dead was the word he was expecting. The same word branched him as the flow of blood disappeared down his head to the far bottom; the feet or even under the feet if space can be provided .His turned white jammed with fear .He rocked his face down lazily .He tried to think what actually dead looks like, but he was defeated to find its form.

 

Before the famish weather in him disappeared his family is sinister slaughter was screened across his mind, that’s when he come to understand what actually she meant by her answer “dead”. The silence again ascended the weak brain now intoxicated with venom of blood; war. He leaned back on his chair groggily.

 

“Seven minutes to London, Harison.”She said hesitant, interrupting his thought, squeezing his wrist gently and warmly.

 

“We are landing tighten your belts” It repeated twice in three international languages. The floating machine Yanked its way through the heavy clouds piercing through item, its effort were felt into every into every human soul it carried as it jerked to gain its balance, lastly it made at the far end, the airport lay there expecting the plane to come down to land.

 

The Boeing 737 touched down three hours in the sky and slowly taxied to its end. The huge wheels bashed the waiting airport, stopping for the next two hours before it will continue with its flight to Berlin, the destination.

 

At exactly three evening hours the silver-flying eagle crushed the earth expelling its breath as it gained the momentum up and up. Its final trip to Europe was being tabbed by this hour and another hour. It was lost into a sea of cumulus clouds that tossed it, swallowing it, eventually vomiting it into other Universe. London, the next two and half flight time to Berlin was unreasonably taken peacefully.

 

At around five-forty-five evening hour, the Boeing 737 airplane ticked its day of air shipping its agents across the universe. Its wing widely spread proudly out of itself as it strokes the ground with its powers hurting towards its death point.

 

“And here I welcome you to Berlin, cold and more chilly than USA, but they look more unfriendly. The Germanys.” The ageless woman laughed throatily as if she has elated with evil powers by conquering Adams Harrison’s spirit taking him into exile of challenge to cause or caused blood.

 

The gallant born-man leered at her strangely as they walked along the lobby to the taxi park. The newly war couple had nothing to sneer about. Taking the taxi, they buzzed through the heavy shiny streets heading to the outskirts of Berlin City towards one of her veracious secure hotel owned by an American. The taxi took them into a private park of the hotel.

 

Miss Kournikova and Adams Harison trudged together to the security officer of this enormous hotel.

 

Can I talk to the director?” she asked one of the security officers who was at the reception smoking what smelt to be marijuana although very mild and over-powered by tobacco.

 

“Okay! Give me a minute to inquire whether he is in his office.. Before I forgot your identifications please? “The officer asked stretching his right hand towards her.

 

“No, can you phone to him and inform him his old friend from America is here.” She complained feeling awry. Irrationally, the spirit of anger rose, through her throat with him. Then, there the thought of doing away with him terminated her.” Can you inform him what I have told you or you don’t want? ……. Tell me right now.” Miss Kournikova bellowed looking furious.

 

“Excuse me madam! You are polluting the good atmosphere here. Can you match out of here!, you bastard woman, I don’t care where you are from and I don’t tolerate woman command.” The guard, bareheaded, his hair uncombed, his eyes bloodshot behaving like a fellow who had been heaved out of dustbin. The words stirred her uncontrollable temper. Her fist tight and raised, instinctively, she took a step to him, with one steady blow, the glass window that separated them was squashed into fragments. The jackal-fat-man never believed that a human being can break a thick glass of three inches properly moldered. The broken glass stirred him to the floor. His eyes popping to see clear who is this woman within his territory?

 

The abbess woman within no time, she jumped through the huge open, landing next to him without a breath. The Spiderwoman with her 0.38 caliper special rose within the space of murdering. The coward hog slid down in front of her groveling over the broken glass, sitting there, his legs sprawled in front of her, smiling foolishly up at her, his hand languorously in the air like a begging dog wagging its smelling tail.

 

“Stand up and do what I want you to do…. Quick” She harangued threatengly as her show swatted him painfully across his thigh.

 

“Just let the son of a bitch stand up.” Adams Harison said with his revolver held up with two hands next to the guard’s mouth. She hauled him sinuousing down, timely as the guard’s short hair stood, making untraceable murmurs of disapproval not budging this son of bitch.

 

“If you try to make any move, I will kill you… Put the phone on the line to him immediately.

 

“Uh, huh. I get you, motherfuckers” The stocky being, rumpled and his big nosed head barked looking more drunkards with pressure from the situation and the high nicotine in his nerves. He opened the tele-exchanger box and nearly immediately Miss Kournikova plunked the liceaver phone from its socket and mumbled.

 

“Administration office…Yes… can I speak to the director, Mr. Vonly Donman please… I am Miss Kournikova calling from the reception…. yes the security office.” She muttered to a lady’s voice in the line.

 

“Wait a minute; I will put him in line…” She assured her and her movement was heard onto her eardrums although pumped with a boiling heart. “ Am in hurry, inform him is Kournikova calling? He will understand.”

 

“Okay, let me call him…. Wait on the line.”

 

Miss Kournikova fidgeted fixing her cursing eyes onto this elated marijuana man in away suggesting to command royalty from him. A phone rang.

 

“…Wow! Kournikova I never expected you to be here. By the way where are you?” A man’s voice grumbled through the line.

“Hallo Mr. Donman, I am in your security’s office. Only this guard of yours who are not cooperating, delaying me here for more than thirty minutes not allowing me to use the phone until I forced in… Anyway, can you come down; I have a mission I want to fulfill with you.”

 

“Kournikova, I am on the way coming, wait me there.” The voice of Mr. Donman ended softly for a woman to be satisfied; she turned to this drenched hog, withdrawing her short gun back.

 

“Don’t try to prank on me again” she said prancing through the broken window glass to where Adams Harison stood, now his revolver tucked into its holster under the tunic, military style, jacket.  The defeated gentleman sighed noticing his booby behaviors.

The atmosphere changed immediately at the presence of this face mooned and gauntman, compelt with a heavy jaw, black germinating beard Summoned with eyes like of a dying donkey set in their cage in the skull socket.  He looked so frightening and much in adverse married wrath evil.  Around sixty years under the sun.  “Hi, madam, great to have a glance on your living fresh.  I thought you were murdered long ago.  Wonderful, you have defeated totally that atrocious character of Mr. Vladin, but I have never heard form them now.  Its two years.” 

 

The king of oracles in the empire of maniacs; came with open hands stretched towards her aid covered with a grinning face, over commanding.  This old fork looking like Hitler’s Jews prison of war wearing a light skin as it God was not ready to make it thick for this cold Germany, weathered. The two old friends hugged each other warmly.             

 

“It is long since you left here, without giving me details of where you were heading to.” The strangely looking damp-sick man said as they strode towards the elevator.               

 

“I did all that to satisfy the security of the people. I sometimes don’t trust you totally’’. “Don’t be crazy woman. You mean you don’t trust me?”

 

 “No, Those murders, maniac executioners, orchestras of death; the Vladin government of somber, are now going behind the limit they need to be simmered.” She granted tethering into his office. 

 

Mr. Van Danian was the owner of this sixty-two stores building hotel, without counting sixteen underground floors. In his room it was served by her own daughter, the only offspring of his geneous blood .The inscrutable and knack alike is of his father of no doubt facsimile of her father. Her mother died sixteen years ago at a road smash. A sad memory to both of them.

 

“Hi! Raula atleast a big woman …can you recall me little girl?”

 

“I don’t think whether I have ever seen you, madam.”

 

“Do you recall Kounikova...you best old pal when you were young”

 

“Ohh my gosh! Are you Miss Kounikova? You look awfully old. By then you were strong beautiful lady whom I used to envy so much atleast I liked the way you dressed and your gait style.” She mourned standing to receive her with open hands. They hugged each other in an obtuse way with Miss Kounikova moving her body restlessly.

 

They called it over and Adams Harrison was allowed in to shake her soft hand.

 

“Hi! My name is Harrison chief executive of USA business enterprise.” He introduced himself like a gentleman satisfying his dandness.  Her breath approached his gestures, Miss Kounikova and Von Donman stepped some yards away admiring these two blonde creatures. Introducing to each other as the son and a daughter of the imperial empire.

 

“And I am Dhavinah Raula.  He is my father” That was all what she was supposed to say.  Her big balls fixed on Adams Harrison’s piercing and intelligent eyes, automatic to be referred as the most handsome man she had met.

 

“You can settle your selves down comfortable …welcome” the old man said walking around a huge oval table to his chair.  The whole congress settled down.  Without allowing the young growing creatures time and space to admires themselves.

 

“Our major mission here is to look for some assistance from you.  In short we need your light aircraft to take us to Odessa, Russia tomorrow morning, please.  Another thing I would request from you is to assist me to acquire some powerful and smart weapons to travel with.  Again you allow me to use your aircraft any time from tomorrow within not more than seven days.  Those are the most serious needs I would like you to play into.”  She growled back, whispering the obvious message which the old man had been trading with for long.

 

“What you ask madam, I don’t have any obligation to deny your desires.  What I have within my knowledge you will have it.  And now I will inform my men to collect for you the weapons you need and if you would like to have any financial assistance you will be allowed to have them.”  Mr. Donman said sounding tired and stuffy.

 

“I will be satisfied of what you will offer to me.  “She groaned as if he had offered too much.  They talked much up to late evening hour when they moved across the impress marble lobby of the hotel at leisurely pace accompanied by bodyguards escorting Miss Kournikova to her private room.

 

Mr. Donman was is such in robust state showing how he was vigorous for his health, but his age can be calculated definitely from the black wary hair which was heavily frosted with grey and saturning face.  Mr. Donman, a man who was poisoned in the world of corruption.  Agatherious of the world wealth, and now swimming in the midst of it with her daughter.  He was ready to assist her to assassinate the spectra in the gnome of Mr. Vladin.  Mr. Vladin was and still his is life enemy but he can’t dare raise a finger at him. Vladin; the naughty ugly demon who is terrorizing the earth’s citizens.

 

“Miss, you need a contingency plan to do away with that man.  I am scared about your operation there is a loophole which needs to have a tap.  Or else you are taking your flesh plus the fresh of this allured young man to be frozen Mr. Vladin to be killed, it needs to have cataclysm within his own empire to bring him down with you alone; I totally wish you a bye to hell.  What you have requested, you can have it not to let your soul to blame me”.  The old being, said in a high spirit of the coming danger whiffing in his throat.  The pounded suggestions were merely nonsense for both of them, for they must face it.

 

“You seem to think we might be in danger…”

 

“No, only I am praying for you as successive bombardment and I would ask you to be tough and more violent if you make it into his underground edifice, but be very careful my dear!” He granted glaring away from her.  His bodyguards stood meters away with their hands folded across their huge thoraxes looking pained as if they were cursed being in a troublesome world full of dauntless wars.

 

“Anyway let us meet tomorrow if possible …if not, meet in hell or if you and I will make it, in heaven.”

 

“Okay as you have said, good night my madam he said enthusiastically pulling his pipe from his dove-tailed jacket and tamped tobacco into its bowl letting one guard jumping with a lighter already with a tiny blue flame.  The smoke of the cardinal was produced to spell the evil and bless them, overloaded with opium dry glass.  She nodded and wended off together with Adams Harison to their rooms to wait for tomorrow to come.

 

The light aircraft carrying only five passengers stood smartly gaudy under the green threaded roof with red colors around its small body in its hangar waiting the four passengers.

 

At exactly eight-morning hour, a powerful BMW station wagon boomed followed crossly from behind by along cream red Mercedes limousine.  The two vehicles wrenched forward braking next to the aircraft, surrounding it.  Mr. Donman stepped out followed by his daughter who was at the driving sit.  Two more men swatted the ground with their big boots as bodyguards.  The chaperon came out tossing her messy long hair back forcefully.  Her shed glasses adhered across her slanted dark eyes duplicating her to an exotic look moving straight to where Mr. Donman stood next to his station wagon BMW following on how his men were loading the war potent armaments into the cabin of the aircraft.  The cargo weighing nearly one hundred kilograms all designed to bring down the Russian executioners by the act of whack, under miss kournikova and Adams Harison.

 

“You will use the parachute to land along the coastal line of the black sea.  From his mark, you will travel only two kilometers to arrive at Odessa.  At this point, it is very rare to get any being here.  Although the area is very ragged you will make it through easily and you will get a rough road that you will use under cover of sailors out from fishing.  Don’t make any commotion here, bribe them with little dollars and move on.  You will leave Harrison at this point and you walk alone to Odessa for a taxi. There after it will be directed by you.”

 

“If there will be any identification incident what will I do?  I don’t have any Russian card or …I don’t know anything related to their life style.”   Adams Harrison asked looking more confused of everything.

 

“From here, you are not supposed to move out with your American identifications cards.  When Miss Koarnikova will go for a taxi, she will pour this blood like liquid over your head and tie it with a piece of cloth to look like an accident with a dose of two tablets LIdoxene to turn your look.  None will touch you. Please no shooting will be done around here.  It is a fog job and it needs brave and strong people” The geographical lecture with fanatical emphases rooted in his goddam belief.  Then, came in a long loud, scolding voice accompanied with a tremor across his lips.

 

“If anything goes sour, we will call back for your rescue team!” Her tone to his voice was an abrupt and harsh leaving the old man chuckling rucefully.

 

The pilot of the two engine aircraft fired the aircraft the propellers whacked the air around.  It started tripping along the airstrip and plunged into the air cuddling its wheels as its shaft blades pounded the air tossing it towards the east.  The old aircraft, likely used during the second world war, transmitted a stingily hot atmosphere from its engine, the thinly fans installed in the open overhead racks were out of order.

 

“Ten more kilometers from here, probably thirty minutes flight.” The co-pilot said as he opened the door of the cockpit moving to the cabin where Miss Kournikova and Adams Harison sat.

 

“Madam, we are quickly approaching the destination.  Get ready, we are dropping to the required altitude for you to jump out,” the co-pilot warned out turning back into the cockpit.

 

Miss Kournkova and kaba were shelled into the jumpsuit and heavy gadgets were belted across their chests.  Their war luggages were chained into one parachute tight with a taillight signal touch attached onto it.  The parachute pegs were chained across their gadgets; the cabin door was opened as the aircraft reduced its altitude level. The siege luggage was released first and a mark was selected where it will land.  It went down, graviting to its selected point along the black sea line.  It went down landed with a clear visibility around.

 

“You pull these plugs up when you are about four hundred meters away form the ground, a red signal will alert you when to open it.  If the parachute fails to bloom up, you tear this tab off by force”.  The air-sky diver said adjusting Adams Harrison’s gadget.

 

“Now, are you ready!, close your eyes for a moment,….Jump. “ And there he went first and from behind miss kournikova followed him.

 

The two invaders went slumping speedily to the earth, the aircraft boomed off leaving its products it had sprayed to blossom out.  Harrison’s parachute bloomed into a huge umbrella- balloon like, its talon holding him like an eagle going to land with its prey held by the claws.  At his far left, Miss Kournikova was pushed by the wind towards the sea’s shore. Big blare was heard; branches were jostled as Harrison waded speedily down to the ground.  Landing into the sea beach, easily.

 

He glanced around, very appalling of the new environment only alone; at this moment his memory went out for Kurnikova’s presence.  He felt like shrinking for her to come but his instinct directed him to behave gingerly and move out to look for her.  His sagacious mind fancied out when they were flying down… Kournikova over the zenith or the sea immediately, he plumped off the jump suit, a gadget and the boggles directed by the desire where may be she will be now.  A spirit with strange powers invaded him, running crazily through the hugged forest like somebody under attack from wild armies.  Lathing through the mangrove forest, approaching the sea line.  He stood there flanking of any sign of Kournikova.

 

“Oh Jesus …” he blared taking a deep sign.

 

Without giving time to witness, he waded through the salt water, bounding the sea towards where kournikova parachute floated, being waved by seawater definitely covering her chance of making through.

 

She was floundering under the cover of the parachute as Adams Harison swam underneath to rescue her. She was effervering, her power of struggle reducing drastically. He gave her a breathe of life, pumping his breathes deep into her lungs.  His left fingers went for the pegs, hauling them with power.  His legs wagging rhythmically, with potent. The triumph was gained, pulling her up to the water surface.  His left hand bounding strongly while the right hand held her close to her chest. They surged to the seashore.  He laid her flat on the sand beach pressing her protruding thorax with both hands at the same time piping a breath through her mouth. A horrible fountain of water mixed with mucous rushed out of her, gurgling as he held her in a sitting position she gained some conscious but failed what was these entire cough, leaving towards him.  She was week and socked to the skin.

 

“Let us move out of here…” he said to her, pulling her up with her harms across his shoulders.

 

They tottered into the sea line-forest and plunged into the shelter behind a huge freshly cut trunk.

 

“Harison, take on tablet form my chest pocket…quick” she said under pain, seating down on the trunk looking very shabby. Taking the capsule tablet, she swallowed it jerking her head to throw it down to the gut.

 

“Please let me rest for some seconds be waterful”. She said cuddling herself along the trunk.

 

Adams Harison tramped away getting a good position to vigil what was going on around his pulse was beating like a drum. A gust wind rattled the thicket, his gaze flirtatious engulfed in the twilight world.  He took to the upper side where he can look yonder.

 

The morphine tablet had cooked Miss kournikova up when Harison came back, he found her trying to stand a lone .Now she was totally free from stomach pains.

 

“Harison, this is a dangerous area we need to be out of this jungle before a violent storm get us here” she gutturaled hobbling to where their luggage landed.

 

“It landed east from here, more than a half a kilometer from this point “ Adams Harison said trying to make her walk strongly.

 

Within minutes the warrior woman gained power and started jogging towards a black spot at a distance she shook out her hair which was by now dry and she arranged if with her finger while running, finally, she caught back the sides of the hair allowing tendrils to fall free.

 

“That is the cargo; it looks like a collapsed tent.”

 

“Definitely, let us assume there is nothing which has broken .It landed exactly onto the beach…. Good lucky” she said taking long steps than Adams Harison.

 

They glanced around, satisfied none was watching.

 

“Take the knife and cut off those strings..Quick” she commanded offering him her killers knife as she wrecked off the parachute and tanked it very haste into the thick forest, along the maritime.  She manipulated opening the heavy box, within four minutes everything was laid don and packed into two huge knapsacks each carrying around forty kilos.

 

“Now we move, untraceable route is a guarantee for our success.” She said darting towards a thick green forest covering up to a sharp hill.  Taking her binocular, she locked it into her severing eyes to the high valley.

 

“Over that hill, behind it, there is a rough road as from the map it will take us to Odessa…there is a gorge across, in between that island we will walk a long .It looks to be a saver way through to the top.”

 

“Everything looks like a belligerent wild country in the middle ages with no living soul totally, around” He bated adjusting the heavy luggage properly over his shoulders tramping along the maritime taking a bend to their left the thicket consumed them.

 

It was noon when they crossed the gorge climbing a steep valley using a climbing rope. The mass of trees brought a chill environment with no sensation of sun light the surrounding was so tense with no sound or any movements, only the sound of drooping water from the wet leaves their wending movement can be monitored through the steep hill.  Abruptly as they were struggling up, a huge weak and old vulture emerged from the left, flying straight to their direction.

 

“That bird is a bad omen for me.  It is a flesh eating animal…what is it doing here alone.”  Miss Kournikova said as they moved aside taking her charter arm 0.38 caliper special with her left hand, the trigger was squashed leaving an echoing sound threatening the silent thicket.  The huge horrible bird was left struggling down to maintain its balance but it collapsed with a bright red blood oozing from its wing heart.  It wallowed and heaped itself death.

 

“My first time to see such a big bird in my life… It is so frightening.”

 

“And there are some more dangerous than this one, hell with it.  Let us walk out of this dump place we have taken nearly one hour and still the quarter remains.” She said assuming her did, walking strongly up the steep dale.  The rough road was clear without anybody around.

 

“It looks that no vehicle passes here, definitely for the last two months”

 

“May be it will not make up to the main road.”

 

“We will trek to the east to learn more, if it will lead us there.” They both agreed to try their lucky tramping along the murram road with their heavy boots wet but confidential for the jungle.

 

Time was reducing drastically, the young assailant to be, held the silence, hunger drilling him from within and the plodding experience that was naught to mention.

 

“Now, you stay here; let me go for the taxi.” she said taking off her heavy knapsack.

 

A good point was selected, more convenient to any person who might come across.  The two knapsacks were hidden at a distance of forty meters a part.  Nothing more was done.

 

“Madam, good lucky, you will find me here don’t mind if you will hurry up.”  Harison said squinting.

 

“Harison, no need of worrying, I will be back as soon as I pick one.  If any trouble gets you, button your wrist machine okay? Be a brave man.”

 

“Okay. Also, you be careful.”  He said giving her a victory thumb.

 

Her gait motion carried her way to Odessa.  Adams Harison tottered to where he can keep a good vigil.  Walking to a huge rock with a wide fissure darting for every small motion made.  The temperature of apoplexy rose steadily, only governed by fear and forgotten jumble.  He failed totally what she can do only held by fencing unrealistic world of peace with his living father.

 

After one hour of waiting and fencing, he heard a vehicle booming to his directions like a male deer which had been cornered by a cruel hunter, he wallowed, taking a position quite convenient for his safety.  He buttoned the yellow-light-switch with three conservative signals that waved swiftly to Miss Kournikova’s wrist detector.  A yellow light was screened.  His harassment vanished, peeking carefully to the coming car.

 

There she was as always, the daughter of a Russian ironmonger.  Her shady hair, flowing naturally downs his shoulders.  A variant woman, born when the world was at war; noon.  The sagacious in birth was begotten the intrepid woman hasted away from the taxi, Adams Harison moved to way they kept their offensive arms.  Their movements were calculated.  Each jostled through the hide out carrying heavy knapsacks to the tax.

 

“Hurry up; we must be out of this place as soon as possible.  Nowadays the security around here is stunning.  A consumed appearance must control as from now.  Don’t mention or talk anything even to this chauffeur.  Learn not to trust anybody.  Silence to be our weapon until we are in a total private place”

 

“Light, thanks for coming back so quickly.  I have been alone without you atleast we are together.  “He whispered in a low voice, banging the car booth.

 

Adams Harison sat back left, while Miss kournikova sat with the driver chatting innocently in their Russian language as if they were old pals.  It was approaching six when they arrived at Odessa.  A savaged city with no streetlights, unmaintained roads, congested, in short the tomb of poverty like a gateway to hell governed by Russians.  The men and women toxicated and maddened from the cruel, barbaric Vietnam War wastes.  This generation some managed to survive but many committed suicide and their succumbed bodies are doted all over the American and Russian world.  The Vietnam War victims now vandalizing the world for their evil deeds; Vladin was one of them. A man to be controlled the tall raw boned and equably huge bodied.

 

The two intruders headed straight to one of her most private restaurant in town although the most expensive one. The hired tax roared straight to the private parking lot the two intrepid genes sauntered through the enormous and highly decorated lobby, floated with yellow and red light to booking office.

 

“We will stay here tonight and tomorrow we will move to Kharkov… early in the morning we will move to look for a good private and powerful car for hire.  On this same day we will drive straight to Moscow to lay down our plans”.  She said nervously her face squeezed into sneer.

 

“At least a break you know I feel like dying from today’s plodding and this freezing weather. …there is something I wanted to ask you, how about my passport.”

 

“Already I had processed it there are also foreign school forms under your assumed names. And they are here, so doesn’t worry about anything let us go with assurance of our success.”  She potted pretty with her voice low and husk.

 

The baby man was from behind her as they introduced to the counter .A slightly old woman with a red face feature, heavily flawless complexion holding brown dish gold hair and those extraordinary green eyes, busy, arranging files into a long low back-pack shelf.

 

“Any empty room in your private wing?” Miss Kournikova asked, her throat blared. The chaste Russian woman rolled her eyes, gyrating her head to get to the point; she came up with a snappy retort.

 

“Only one wing can be available for you, all other rooms are already booked, can you mind if you share it? It has everything even your own kitchen.” She smiled openly and shrugged.

 

Miss Kournikova gazed at Harison for a response with unsatisfied and often vague desire.

 

“No problem, we can handle it.”

“Right, it is in down stairs, with good security I know it will be a better place for both of you.” She said and shifted to arranging the files.

 

“…And how about the meals?. . We take it here?”

 

“No, no … You order your meals and you can be served per the time you want it and if you want other services, you will indicate on the request forms which I will issue you.”: she blushed, offering the key to their underground wing with travel boutlet of the whole structure of the restaurant and its alarm systems plus what their offer in details.  An aider was assigned to wing 007 third ground floor to serve them.

 

“You can enjoy yourself here “she sent them free to their wing.

 

The pals move down together with their aider, sitting on the escalator’s first stair holding their luggages next to their thighs.  They slided dispatching to their lodging. The warmth was felt and the shift of sudden desire for a rest and food was felt from far.  They pumped into their room with a sigh, closing the door against the broad lounge and their aider. It was approaching nearly eight when their usher knocked aerobically making their nerves swelling for bad news both wallowed away simultaneously for cover expecting anything related to an enemy. The aerobic knock caused fear and bedlam.  Miss Kournikova realized of what they have ordered at eight, supper? Her gun bolted with a silencer.  She spited to the door, Harison rolled into cover. Over the table lay some of the most dangerous and powerful weapons. And others were unlawful under the human living believes.  The sound bedlam caught them totally unaware as their thought were contaminated by revenge, thus in every motion and sound was evil, she hauled the door leaving it to swing open. She sighed, crazy, obtuse; she didn’t trust what she saw.

 

“Just leave it there we will fetch it …I might call you later.” She said to her aider with a chattel tray full of food.

 

“Enjoy the sweet aroma of cinnamon muffins, served with strawberry jam butter….. Madam.” Her aider busted out and twiddled off.

 

Making sure none was peeking their presence she pulled the rolling tray and the iron door was shut.

 

“I prefer first to eat Harison my stomach is jamming badly” she snorted, pushing the chattel tray to their small dine room.

 

“I am even at a worse state” Harison pounded back looking more relaxed, swaying as a wounded giant.  The dining mood was informal and colorful.  Tablliness crockery and glasses holding wine.  The low table was covered with momos mint cocktails and other roasts so spicy and robust they clicked glasses and sipped their drinks.

 

“Successful mission, Harison” she cheered followed with a chuckle and Harison responded in concord.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

The most dangerous arms in the restaurant were assembled and arranged on how to be carried and used.  Instructions were given under brutal terms speed and accuracy was anonymously guaranteed with the annihilating any being or object on their way they held short secret and scaring oath of trustees; you must not divulge or betray to anybody our background and mission.

 

The instructions and rules stung to their nerves producing a scarlet spot. The message was enough to madden the weak brain of Adams Harrison, to commit anything without his brilliant knowledge.  Everything was parked for action the whirling thoughts of Adams Harrison were left with unseen stars, doomed.

 

It was exactly ten thirty when he moved off to the bathroom to cool down the rising temper of fear.

 

“Madame let me go and take a bath, I’m feeling awfully exhausted”. He said yawning away to the bathtub, wedding like a duck that has discovered a pool of water for the first time smearing his body with suds as he waded his growing body within it. He took an old towel that hanged next to the bathroom door.  The dry towel swallowed the water traces all over his body leaving him dry as he was but clean.

 

Adams Harrison emerged out of the bathroom looking like a grizzled weather beaten woman. And Harrison took off to the bedroom, leaving Miss Kournikova at the roomy assiduous her coming vengeance upon her tormenters fearlessly.

 

“Harison good night …and your best dreams” she bleated, brandishing to him a thumb.

 

“When are you going to make out of your queer propelling force arms? It is late you need a rest your psyche is going to burst please.” He twittered whilst wending into his room.

 

Two hours later, Miss kournikova was through with her dubious preparations she took a shower and walked to her room which was exactly opposite to Harisons her thought were scanning unrealistic events which she will face, she tried to cook up something to make her feel comfortable, she failed for every fancy was oiled with a swarthy end for her Every hour mixed with outrageous fear flowing through her body.

 

“Why! It will not succeed it is a total failure I have never been in this state.” She complained to herself loudly as she waited for a sleep to come in. she never knew when she slept only awaken by an aerobic knocking at her door.  She gazed at her watch… It is morning, am I mad?” she cried out throwing away the bed sheets and rolled up, quizzing her big wondering eyes nervously.

 

“Harison I am sorry I slept very late, only to be awakened by you I am mad. I have let you down… have you taken breakfast? If is extremely awful now.” The bad tempered woman blurted, her face swerving to pale, formed with trace puckers across it.

 

She hurried to the bath room leaving Harison posing in perfectly grey three-piece with impeccable heron-point shirt and a pearl-grey silk tie; giving birth to Adam Harison, the gentleman turned swine killer to be.

 

By around nine in the morning, the two attackers set off for their endless onset.  A yellow tax was ordered by the hotel management to collect them. A destination was marked in Kharkov where they will get a car for hire, through the Internet.  The day was clear with white cloud particles coloring the deep blue sky it was neither cold nor warm.  The breeze maintained the hush as the tax volleyed along the high way track

 

“Early eighties I traveled to South America, where I stayed for four years before I came back… but you know those people fear the Russians and they make you feel unwanted. I don’t like them” The chauffeur was, chatting with Kourkova animatedly in there native language

 

“A good adventure, at least you know much of South America and how they behave.”   The old lassie said as their tax bypassed Donetsk with its whizzing speed like comet, which had been released, from the heavenly kingdom. Vibrating, crunching the empty air creasing it like shit. The weather was changing speedily clouds were gathering up in the sky within time, the storm would fall to clear out the hot humid Russian weather. Traffic check up was rare for these aliens, of vengeance.

 

Miss Kournikova was playing an excellent role for this was her home country. Communicating was not a big deal for her, thus reducing any suspicion in the world of sociology under language probation. Arriving in Kharkov four minutes to four.

 

At Kharkov, they drove straight to tourist private car hire, owned by an orthodox fanatic. The old short man sat outside his garage with a big poster over it; powerful motors, for hire. His cold stroke-skin bore the imprint of a tough, thick puckered face that was attempting a grey color on it, cornered with a dull, yellowish-brown military uniform. The old man smiled on realizing his customers, definitely out to try their lucky on his rocket machines. He stood up, whacking out from where he cornered holding red vodka, which was out at its lowest level. He knew, he had no any dollars to buy another whiskey hoping these idiots will take one of his chattel to buy another bottle one or two to boost him for few days.

 

The wheels scratched the rough earth, stopping next to the old man’s shoe.  He sauntered weakly to his new visitors with his left hand holding a walking stick and to the right palm phagocyte the bottle tight. He withdrew a cursing cough accompanied with along awkward sneeze.  The old man murmured something in his native language.

 

“Welcome the Americans… I have some of the best motors you will need.” The age stroke man blared.

 

They were totally stunned by referring them as Americans.  Their face turned pale and their faith steaming

 

"Welcome, you can go in and test them. All the three motors are in their best condition.

Yah go in 1 charge only a few for each full day,” He said.  "You will be paid as per the power of the engine and the model,” she said.

 

"No problem at all just jump on and put fire into it" the old man boomed offering her the key.

 

She magneted the key, propelling the gray pick-up holding its exhaust pipe to the heavens at the left hand side of the driver.  By a look, glittered with its powerfulness.  Her cowboy shoes smashed the ground leaving her black creamy leather mackintosh sailing like an exterminated phantom out to mess with its swarthy enemies.  She jumped into the driving wheel; the key was inserted and twirled powerfully without hesitation.  Ignition was heard as the heavy engine went on fire the breaks were released, the clutch was pounded amid changing of the gear.  She spun the pickup outrageously as both hands cuddled the steering to its right hand the vehicle whizzed

off, with a roar of the motor echoing.  The old man sighed wondering whether his vehicle will survive her crazy driving within seven minutes she emerged back with a boom.

"Its okay, we will take this one, no need of trying the others... good for any adventure" she said, nodding satisfactory.

 

"Then you can pay as per its power. 1 bought that vehicle to make you people crazier.  Every hour, you pay seven for fourteen day

 

"We will not oblige, just calculate and give us the figure you want,” Miss Kounikova said calmly, moving her muscled body towards this weather beaten old folk.

 

The contractor was signed the fee paid and the guarantee offered.  The taxman helped Adams Harrison to transfer their luggage onto the pick-up.

 

"Now 1 have done my service fully, only to wish you a successful journey to wherever you are going "the taxi man said in their English Russian although sounding wit Arabic scent.

 

"Okay we gonna see you another time... bye" Adams Harrison replied sending off the taxi man back to Odessa.

 

Miss Kornikova come back from the old mans office finding the taxman had already gone .She signed badly impercepting and nodded.

 

"Hi, it is now over.  We move out of this place, Harrison " She said swaggering rhythmically to her new-used vehicle.

 

"Madam, let us go.  How long will it take us to Moscow?" He yelped, stumbling back against the pick up,

 

"With good speed, proximately four hours.  Let's see.... It is now four third. We will be there by d nine.” She said walking to the driving gear with a kind of mood that scares away the fiercest wild dogs.

 

"Let us move off before this odious storm gets us before we get there.  "She granted pulling roughly the safety belt across her bountiful breasts. 

 

"It is coming worse than typhoon.  Those heavy dark furious clouds can bore a violent windstorm.  They have really swallowed the day bringing in an early darkness so scaring. " They talked undertones as the vehicle was maintained along the track, the windows bolted up tight.  Darkness swarmed all the visibility beyond yonder.  And at its zenith the booming and scrawling of the awakening thunder was heard trekking across the universe, definitely directing them the way to take like vulture waiting for the fresh to be slaughtered.

 

The prowess woman engaged the gear exchanging it with the accelerator leaving the potent vehicle propulsioning swiftly towards Moscow like scud missile carrying a nuclear heard.  Moscow city lay peaceful as the horrible darkness engulfed it.  Scarlet lights twinkled filtering through the think fog, which was coming in for the night.  The temperature went down to negative seven degrees Celsius as the fog phagocyted to every inch in the city.  Few men and women were seen cuddling their heavy woolen cloths back to their homes or to their undefined places where they will get some warmth to their cold buttocks.  Their potent motor appeared indistinctly into the city, taking the upper lane of Rennin Street passing through the unknown tombs.  The ghosts of the haunting fear of the future trouble penetrated steadily into Adams Harrison's bosom.

 

"At last we have arrived to our scathing destination of death..." Her voice was vague but controlled in her usual familiar way.  She continued.  "Harrison, never hesitate in any circumstances to kill.  We are going to snatch your father from these scoundrel men without any failure be sure of what I am telling you "She said.  The look in her eyes was scowling; hostility lessened.  She blinked in discomfort, madly embarrassed.

 

"They killed my young sister just for nothing.  It will be better if they will also kill me with the same hand, Harrison"

 

"Nothing will stop us, unless the bullet will stop us.  For now 1 am ready for anything. 1 am not going to hear or see these infernal characters in my life time.” He said his mind frozen by scuffled war.

 

"We are more than enough to extort their evil empire soon if possible.  By now we will drop at one of the most securely hotel for the night.  In lieu of moving without blare knowledge what, i going on within this devilish organization, 1 had a pal who was my comrade when I was in this evil operation of Viadin and still she is with them, a very proficient woman will tell us much where we will get them."

 

"How will you vestige her?" Harrison asked sounding vindictive.

 

"We had a very secret means of communicating with her and still up to now, 1 can do it easily without and defects to our security.  "Miss Kournikova warbled letting out the clutch of the pick-up lurching forward to around blind corner and on front of them lay the hotel where they will share a night.  The black powerful vehicle sped up, its headlights emerging out of the pretty foggy swallowed by the flood lamps that washed the entry of the hotel in the white light.  She drove around a circular drive, stopping suddenly in front of a thick revolving glass door.

 

"Wait here, let me go to book a room for the night,” The minx said pulling the hand brake faltering off.  She hobbled to the entrance, pushing through the revolving door, looking less tranquilly.

 

Koumikova emerged through an oak door that was ten yards away along the parking She left Adams Harrison alone gazing to the empty darkness.  Within thirty minutes Miss kornikova emerged through an oak door that was ten yards away along the parking lot.  Her tramping walk increased, half running leaving her mass of hair waving over her shoulder blades.

 

“I have got a room in the second floor .We move in immediately!" The gallant woman warbled.

 

"We carry our luggage or we leave them here?"

 

"No, Harrison, please.  We must go with them, How can we leave these weapons here?  We don't know much about these place and who are watching us,” She bawled pulling the motor's rear door roughly introducing violently into the driving sit.  The key was inserted and twirled it forcefully leaving the vehicle igniting with a roar.  She hauled the gear lever, twirled the steering wheel relieving the brake pedal.  The vehicle reversed nearly immediately he crushed the brakes, exchanging the gear level, releasing the brakes, squashed the accelerator, next to a thick oak door.

 

"Hurry up ma!  Try to reduce your visibility" She granted taking heavy steps through the door leaving Harrison two steps behind.  Their knapsacks clanged over their backs, taking a left up to the second floor.  Wading along a shine deep red asbestos floor corridor.  The two attackers stopped at door number seventy-seven.  She took the key card inserting it into the lock and wicked it down once and the door busted wide-open Slowly. She glanced over her shoulders and hustled the knapsack into the room. Harrison          followed her immediately inside.  She heaped her cumbrous bag over a huge bedspread        finished with embossed floral pattern and fringe, so classic embossed.  She spread herself across the bed, crossed her eyes, her ebony hair thrown roughly around.  Harrison looked at her once and went back to lock the door.  Badly aroused by what you can't tell, she sprung up like somebody possessed by black demon suckers.

"Let me go for super.  You wait here, 1 will come with it."

 

"And nice cup of coffee" Harrison chirped holding some bewildered atmosphere in his eyes.

 

"It is cold, you need something to warm up your stomach something even more strong than coffee." She boomed, her blue eyes filled with love and urgency he came directly towards him hugged him and coiled a seasonal kiss across his lips.  A sudden desire for him shuddered her with disgust.  She didn't want to engage in this by now.

 

"I am coming." She chided leaving Adams Harrison tranquillying shyly towards the bed.  Before he realized the state he was in, she came back, tentacling two bottles of red wine, Salisbury’s courts du Rhone and manks and spemer, Thornton milk chocolate eggs with French cheese to go by the wine.  The sound of the opening door prompted him to wallow around the bed quickly. 

 

"Crazy boy," She boasted and went on, in an affectionate tone.  "You have been, caught.  How can you defend yourself when the enemy is still with you? 1 am sorry, you react when 1 am just inside by your Throat" She bleated frisking towards a table next to the upper corner with a shrivel chair.  She strapped her brace and dropped it into it black lather sit.

 

"Harrison, don't open your eyes until I tell you to do it." She bawled changing into her nightgown she walked across to him and ran her fingers down Harrison's cheeks with a sensual touch.

 

"Don't open your eyes until 1 have finished what am doing." She unbuttoned his shirt and peeled down, followed by his trouser. He was left nude only covered by a pale brown pant.  Her fingers slid tickling down his thighs with affection.  Her breath increased as Harrison's arms went around her.  She moaned as the aroma of their sweat cemented them.  Their thoughts were frozen, the whine smell in their breath increased. Special sensation of warmth.

 

"At last we are together once more time today night and the morrow nights. She started kissing his soft smooth lips with a sound and then her soft dark hair that fell framing the soft camellia lovely skin flamed over his face

 

"Are you satisfied, kournikova?  "it was his first time to call her by her name.

 

"No, it is long since 1 did thi@kiss me please .....Harison." she said as their sat together at the edge of the bed.  As she spoke, he saw and will feel her extraordinary light -blue eyes probing and littering beyond the limit of his expectation, Miss.  Kournikova was dressed in a comfortable lounging robe blight blue that accentuated her extreme ebony brown hair and embossed the blues of her eyes.  Underneath the robe lay, a cream light - threaded night gown transmitting what actually her body held.

 

The bonded beings pushed each other into the bed, both mad for sex.  The were wrapped from toe to the neck in a towel sheet impregnated with romantic oils, and then encased in a warm waters bed filled with cushion.

 

"Let me remove your pants" She said as they cuddled together.  He never answered her only giving a breatho_voice of romance.  She tore off the entire rubbish night gown which clung on her.  She wallowed over him, touching and kissing every part of this lassie, cocooning tiressly.

 

"Adams, turn over and do me. 1 really need your thing in me.

 

"Ah - yah, He signed with vehement force within him urging every part of his body to forget their mission and fulfil] their body desires.  They made it again and again for three full hours.         

 

At forty-three minutes to morning hour, Miss Kournikova trudged to the bathroom, the lasso therapy bath, she immerged herself into the heated sea water and pummeled by underwater-jets rolling within it, she realized that she was a merchant of death.  Getting out of it moving to where Adams Harison was.

 

"Adams, time for break fast, go and take a bathe.  We are supposed to move out." She said premonitioning through her nerves.  She twiddled and strode wearily to her room, taking with her,-Mr. modern computerized fiie-like cell phone.  Sitting on her bed, she buttoned a yellow switch and the device sprung open.  She, mounted onto it a small but extremely powerful antenna, tapping repeatedly a button on line until a green line appeared across it.

 

"What a hell is happening?  Where will 1 get her?" She said to herself hastily as she tried to connect a line to Josephine.

 

Them  increased terribly, prodding around them with some taloning their overcoats as they drifted on and on bravely.

 

“Never make any attention: even if are badly scratched by these wild mammals.  Reduce your service to the ground level.  Don’t swat any bat, they usual get excited when they smell blood.”

 

“There is some source of light over there.”

 

“We are nearly out Harrison.  Be patient and calm”.  She gave him hope, which he extremely needed. They scrawled silently with their assault rifles mounted with silencers.  Their backs loaded with powerful explosives and across their chests modern potentiful grenades adhered firmly.  In her left hand spotlight directed them as tiny one feet telescope dung in her fingers.  The tunnel ended up into the device building.

 

“For the period I was here, I only heard that there was a tunnel heading inside………….the light you saw was the is blink electrical bulb, definitely instored to scare away these wild bats” she blatant with a whispering voice.  Her face blushed sitting on her toes.

 

“Now what can we do to use our wrist magnifying detectors to lead us in.  put off your spotlight.  She said moving aside from the thick metal tunnel plug which leads into the Vladin’s palace.  Amazing technology, the wrist detector screened the whole structure, it gave out the architectural layout of the whole building.  The tunnel was definitely dug as an escape route, properly as it let smoothly to these anonymous offices of Vladin.

 

“…………the only way to enter into this building safely is through this metal plug.  It is firmly locked from inside with a complicated old made padlock.  If we blow it, we will alert these scoundreliouse generation”.  Miss Kournikova mumbled something.  Harrison never understood as he moved aside.

 

Miss Kournikova chided fiercely fixing the acidic powder along the marked line.

 

“Okay………….I know how, you will strike the match on it and it will react violently”.

 

“Yes, within thirty seconds, this whole thing will be down.  Get off!”  she cried out leaving threatening spikes hissing off.

 

“It is so reactive.  I haven’t come across such.”

“Yah, it will smolder it down quickly.  Take opposition away from here.”  She said each taking a ground position of shooting anybody who will be spotted.  Thirty seconds elapsed, the huge metal melted off giving way into a completely dark scaring room.

 

Miss Kournikova jammed her binocular night goggles across her searching eyes. The utralpha-rhy binocular screened clearly the empty dark room. 

 

“We now move in and take position”.  She undetoned, introducing herself inside the roomy.  A totally brave blood son of a soldier followed her into chasm.  Rough an attended stairs lead up with an iron door at the upper end.

 

“Oh yes, this is the dungeon where hundredths of innocent men have gone through, in horrible torture chamber.  It is a prison of its won.  Many people used to be left here and eaten up by time.  It looks that they stopped using it”.  She granted her eyes being reflected, glistening in white red.

 

“I can see some human skulls there, this place is stinking from rotten human blood.”

 

“It looks, they have transferred the whole thing to Severodvinska.  Your father might be in that repulsive antihuman prison.  She said angrily, leading Harrison up the steep stairs. The young bullock turned and glared to a human skull fleshly skinned, his soul filled with fear.  A dark image crunched his thoughts, showing the skull to be his father’s.

 

“Come on man, don’t stare at forgotten wastes.  I want you to baffle those unwanted images you are developing and focus your mind in this operation”, she said in a low rough tone taking some steps, sauntering towards the iron door.

 

The door was opened by a master key.  Misss Kournikova peered through at an angle of seven.  Fixing her pelescope, she surveyed the whole poorly illuminated corridor.

 

“None is on our way,” she said.

 

“Take the left walk extremely along the walls”.  Harrison murmured directing himself along the untidily wall.  His pulse throbbing badly with a non-smelling sweat saddening him, plunging one time bomb inside an open electric switch box.  After he took two steps away from the electric switch box, tramping steps were heard coming downstairs.  Adams Harrison’s face was suddenly fainted with a bad tempered look and sandwiched with griming anger.

 

The silencers cocked guns held at a peaceful atmosphere with a duel excruciating execution being guaranteed by the daughter and the son of the vengeance soul.  The voice of the coming guards increased to escape from the sentenced bodies.  A slide tremor waved through Harrision’s body.  His eyes waited patiently for the coming death, triggered by the consumed skulls in the chasm.

 

The three men emerged up the stairs with their guns loosely thrown down their backs.  All in black, soviet overcoats.  Miss Kournikova and Harrison, both had taken eagle positions, their beliew convulsed and their minds ignited as they were watching to take their souls.  Miss Kournikova gave Harrison a wink of warning and released her fist.  Immediately, the two killers sprung up like the set wild dogs.  Their guns pointed towards these ascending gentlemen of naught ugly human consumers.  The horrible men were caught squarely, totally cured on what to do or say.  Their screaming bodies were held only leaving their eyes to watch their coming end.  The triggers were pulled simultaneously leaving a short sharp unsheltered bodies.  Blood matted instantly and trudged down their bodies.  The three guards danced to the bullets as they stung into them, their guns were far to be reached.  Al stumped on the floor, dead.

 

The game was set on immediately Adams Harrison making a lead, the living was pronounced corpses.  He will kill now ruthlessly, viciously and savagely.

 

“Leave them there”, she said in her queez contralto voice stumbling over them.  They stormed the building taking the staircase, clumbing the steps three at ago briskly, being inhigh spirit to bout on anybody before them.

 

Suddenly, as they were scrurring along the corridor, the sound of the door opening prompted them to swing around a weird manner.  Kournikova immediately taped her killer-knife off her chest with both hands, holding for them between her stubby finers and quickly released them with power, hurtling towards the two guards popping from the office.  Their throats gashed strangely without realizing what the heck was going on.  They guttural with unheard voce, their aiding finger struggling to save their live.  Kournikova and Harrison strode towards them, their gun ready.  They positioned on both sides of the door when a crazy was cry erupted frominside.  The blared guards jumpd from their silent peace towards their slained comrades.  Looking extremely violent and out to vindictive whoever will be found guilty.

 

On the door stronghold, immediately as their muzzles appeared, Harrison sprung like a dolphin out of the sea onto them as he spun to his right all controlled by spar.  Kournikova was amazing and crazy, her left strong vein stained leg went across accurate to the exact point.  It whacked off the guard’s gun leaving it flying to the floor corridor with a thud sound.  For Harrison, it was assumed to be an old military general who is doing it to be promoted within their snuff snuffers ranks.  He liarsioned forward, her left hand magnetized the protruding gun muzzle.  He hauled it, propelling with force towards him.  His badly sharpened stiletto knife was jostled into his stomach impending deep.  The castrated male pig bleated like a tethered sheep which had been cornered by a wild wolf.  The agony was sentenced to this miserable guard, blood and mucous oozing out of his stomach.

 

Harrison whacked him across his mad face twisting it down to the floor.  He trailed him like a divine wrath, come down on him dumping again and again his bloody painted stab, jerking it deep into his thick neck.  The victim gave out an expulsion of breath releasing his trouble some ghost, the instant dead occupied him.

 

Kournikova stood motionless, speechless with her eyes glued to the writhing body on the floor.

 

“We take them inside and lock them there”, she said bending lazily mauling the martyrs inside.  The office was a switch control center.  The entry to Vladin’s office.

 

He was badly mauled. His body looking murkier and washed in blood and bruised skin. He was no longer the captain of the American Army, the proficient soldiers but a tattered soldier. In the Russian Antonov aircraft, he was rotating producing a violent wind moving around like a cyclone, the grass struggling to uproot themselves away from this iron-bird. It lifted itself up into the blue haze of the late morning, nearly noon, and there a black shadow followed them, and underneath the Odessa city was screened.

 

“I will bring you later here, definitely at the end of the spring time. Don’t go mad of it, your minds now to Vladin, I want you to kill him this week and his body will be kept until a time will come when we will announce it to the whole congress, I don’t want to kill hem; it will be a guilt of betrayal. You carry it and I will give you the chance of murder.”

 

“It is exactly what I wanted to tell you. We don’t want to give him more time. You never know whether he is also planning odd things for us.”

 

“I know how to lay the martyr art to disintegrate the entire union to look like he was killed by his whore, who they are staying with presently.”

 

“Yes, excellent, two different short games will be used to bury their body.” Miss Dhawina said.

 

“Regardless, don’t give him any chance; he is a bad tempered dog. He changes abruptly if he smells danger. Take caution; kill at a glance, no hesitation signs.” He cultured by atrocious spirits.

 

The chopper over passed Serodvinska ascending speedily to Mr. Vladin’s tall body stood like a doomed statue surrounded by thirteen highly armed commandoes. They were very armed behaving as saints coming down with huge heavenly body.

 

As the chopper landed; Vladin pulled towards the helicopter, madly cocked up.

 

“Where is that American murder? I want him.” He boomed looking very annoyed. The fied creature walked straight hubbubing like a dying pig to his man of the century. Two commandoes held not to fall but he was strong enough to have a glance to the tall evil on form of him slowly he rose and crazy! Madness, he spited on the empire’s face. Then, but then Vladin assumed everything to be normal.

 

“My boy, I like your soul. I will governed it soon….You killed my brother thinking that I can’t get you!, you castrated pig, a killer, son of a bitch. You ….!  Accursed are race. Mother-fucker. I will pass you for ninety-nine days and nights through the spell of the doomed goblins to quaff your blood of life…. You are dead!!” Mr. Vladin harangued, his face waxed totally yellow. His spirit was high; the sinister moment was at his hand.

 

He assumed the people who had brought him. Even the general; not even a glance of congratulation minds which witnessed whirled for what they saw; like a smoke mirage. The gun clicked, releasing a bullet to Micky Macdonald’s private part and deep crimson streaks of blood rolled down the ragged flesh. A horrifying shriek followed as Micky Macdonald tried to cling down but firmly held by two commandoes making the horde murderers blurred in agony.

 

“You will be bathing in darkness of dungeon of blood for the next ninety nines cursed days! You, you hog. Take him away from me before I kill him, or I forget about this sharpless figure all together.”

                                                                                                                                    

The scamp president of the underground empire grumbled assassin was scared like a worthless dog.

 

Micky Macdonald was put in a glass cabin measuring seven foot high, four feet wide. Naked, with a controlled temperature below negative seven. The gallon bird was fueled with a gas with peels his flesh slowly with pain beyond human feeling. All this time he will be fed to maintain his time of life.

 

“This will continue for three months to make you feel the pain of losing my loving brothers. You killed him thinking that you will run away!” Vladin yelled to the statue-sedan was placed in the laboratory of the corpses on route to his underground residential rooms. On the third night after arriving Severodvinska, general escorted Miss Dhavina to Mr. Vladin’s chamber of life. At exactly mid night Mr. Vladin’s head was drilled with a bullet at his dead bed. His prostitute was also shot as she tried to escape. Both corpses were dumped into a deep freezer to wait their time of disposal.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

The corridor was so serene occupied by four well armed commandoes. At the far end, automatic thick door led to the down-floor conference of General Michael Diochev. Miss Kournikova plunged together with Adams Harison towards the four commandoes, extremely valour sickened with revenge. Their hands thrown lower at the barrel grip of their heavy calibrate automatic, descending out of the darkness of illusion, along the corridor, towards the guards as fire in hell.

 

“Don’t move! No any bitchy act. You wholesome bastards! Drop your guns, now! “She shouted. The look in her eyes was steady, fierce and fiery like that of a glorified flying dragon serpent. Excuse me!, that will never be the faith of stubborn commandoes to hit to any haunting adversary female with the experienced baby boy without a struggle, and for that she was very aware.

 

When the commandoes went down for their kalasnochov, hastily, the intrepid invaders threw their fingers for the triggers of their guns. Muffled explosion of the automatic gun fire erupted. Wild shots conquered the commotion along the corridor of fire. The commandoes went berserk, totally cornered in the tunnel of death, option was of horrible pain come up from the commandoes, their bodies badly hashed with bullets without any meager resistance.

 

Another horror of martyr was marked definitely the start of the lavish manslaughter.

 

“Search for the remote key switch; Harison, quick! Let me keep guard, these damn idiots will flow in within seconds!! She said bravery facing to the entry. She was right; the wild shooting made every guard within the whizzing to run out for their skulls. None stood to believe the whizzing bullet. The swine commandoes tripped like the disturbed wasps, their assault riffles directing their way.

           
“Harison, have you got the key?”

 

“No…oh yah.I have got it.”

 

“Okay, button the yellow light and ten press the number six, six, thrice …. Quick! They are coming.” She saw them squeezing the corridor entry like bullocks out for slaughter.

 

And, Adams Harison heard their coming heavy steps, grumbling, struggling to be the first comrade of Vladin to free these two crying ghosts. Jerking his confused head, he saw them. His mind whirled, leaving the remote key switch free from his fingers; falling. He went down for his gun.

 

Adams Harison heard their coming heavy steps, grumbling, struggling to be the first comrade of vladin to free these two crying ghosts. Jerking his confused head, he saw them. His mind whirled, leaving the remote key switch free from his fingers; falling. He went down for his gun.

 

“No! Open the door! Let me handle them. Button the yellow light and bless the number six, six, thrice,” her cry made Adams Harison to be conscious of what he was supposed to do. Miss Kournikova plucked two grenades from her chest leaving her gun falling with a thud sound. She hauled the grenade pins with her used molars forcefully, spitting a cursing spite. She waited them to enter as many as possible along the one hundred metre corridor.

 

Adams Harison pressed the number thrice with tremor a nadiring hope. The greatest magic landed as the door started disappearing into the walls. At that same time the twilight world bursted with the cracks of thunder and fire intertwined within the corridor of death. And then the scream of agony and wince consumed the horrible tunnel. A terrible quake waved along the corridor, shaking the corpses, bodies bashed all around with blood mixed with phlegm oiled the creamy white paint.

 

“Let us move in, they are coming!”

 

“It will take time before they will break this door.”

 

“More than two hours, they will be struggling with it. For one, they will not bomb it.” She said taking her last glance towards the mutilated bodies held in the gray smoke dampness of hell.

 

Again! A bigoted muffle explosion of a powerful rifle boomed violently and another followed. Miss Kournikova was startled on what to do next as the commandoes sprint with rifles held high towards them through the ghostly gray vapor.

 

“Get off! You will be killed.” Adams Harison screamed pulling her through the open door. Immediately when all were inside, he pressed the red button, the heavy door started shrinking. Bullets whizzed through the air creating a scene of wild and noisy disorder, lashing the iron door with sparks bit.

 

The seathing carnage was steady building up as the commandoes scrambles like buffaloes chasing innocent rabbits; the pugnacious blood beasts were stopped as Adams Harison threw to them seven kilos Israel made hand bomb. The oracle was not heard; the door crossed the death game.

 

“We need to hurry up before the attack signals gets to the conference.” She chirped, swerving towards the underground lift.

 

“I go for my father first and you storm the conference.”

 

“Yah, I am going to crumble these meeting before they disappear!” she said being controlled in chaste of war. She continued.” Make sure you are your wrist detector to direct you. Listen; your father is held in the laboratory, you hijack one of the laboratory technician to direct you to where they this grabby incursion.”

 

“Where will we meet?”

 

“I will direct you; definitely we might use the route which we have passed through. Then we will escape with their helicopter across the backyard. One, mark dexterity where you step or otherwise you will be killed within this house of evil. Two; you must be very swift and accurate. Third; use your intelligence within this subterranean dirt war. Lastly I wish you a successive operation to rescue your father.” She chided as the lifts door opened.

 

“I wish you the best operation see you.” Harison blurted. He hugged her and threw a victory thumb at her. They landed at the underground lobby which led to the conference hall with thinly blight painted corridor heading to the laboratory.

 

Kournikova darted around for any approaching enemy. Striding towards a door on front of her without a guard. She buttoned an automatic switch held at the stronghold of the door. Immediately the door sprouted before her. She stuttered something unutterable and escorted by the sign of the holy cross. Her service revolver clung between her arms.

 

She emerged like a ghost a above the huge conference. He image was very scaring, cruel, mysterious and all that unbelievable. She stood alone over the roof of the podium stand; underneath  sat general Michael Dirochev and the entire cabinet staff, across the hall over seven hundred delegates sat totally whacked by the naught ugly woman- ghost above the podium. The general’s raucous voice can be heard clearly.

 

“…..and now comrades, I am very sorry for the death of our leader; Mr. President vladin who was shot by his girlfriend. I heard this today morning as I was welcoming our comrades from Japan. A short gun was found in that woman’s purse…. Quickly enough our men with their highest experience shot her as she tried to escape with our armored helicopter…..”

 

“So; vladin already had been killed by this scoundrel creature!” kournikova murmured with a bitter-temperate look on her face. Scanning a violent stare to the quite conference, she removed her dark glasses; the red cap was thrown off leaving her rock ebony hair free. She rocked her head throwing the mass of hair backward down her shoulder.

 

“You are dead!”

 

A horrible scream went up. The delegates scream went up. The delegates scrambled down, wallowing under their seats. The general was totally stunned by the behaviors of the delegates and the harsh, unknown warning from nowhere. He sprang up as a desert gorilla accompanied by a high tone alarm booming throughout the building.

 

General Michael Diochev hasted toward the back door. Over the roof the podium, the prowess female hauled her automatic portable cannon. She directed the muzzle to the confused wicked men scrambling to the door under bedlam state. A terrible crunch was heard accompanied by scarlet sparks consuming the falling darkness within this underground conference of evil. The second rocket blew up the scrawling victims within their seats, excavating chasting into the floor, the swarthy abyss lightened by the sparks of electric cables beaming in the execution ground. The scream was tremendous in agony, war of building. Abruptly the lights; all went off.

 

She stood there motionless with her dark brunette hair falling in waves to her shoulders; defining her face in darkness; a total variant warrior. She swirled towards the one hundred meters upstairs, with a frantic motion, her thoughts far away from these writing victims under plain languoring for a breath. She was badly wizened, her age betraying her scowl face of a dying gorilla. A big boom was heard as she flew to the second floor stairs, climbing two at once when the conference wall collapsed.

 

As she took to the third floor, the general; Michael Diocher emerged with his men and Miss Dhawina Morry on his left, with a powerful machine gun brandishing like scared owl. Miss Kournikova was ready, murkiness controlling her to hell. Already she had heard their boasting tramping; she cocked her service revolver and waited. She counted them up to four and the fifth one was the general; her man of the day. By now it was going to eight thirty afternoon hour, the scrapping was tense worse threatened by the wrecking of the great edifice gnome palace of Vladin and his realm of evil.

 

The hour was dropping speedy when the human nature will be sent to the world of great misery and suffering; the hell of fire or eternal death!. She took a deep, painful sigh cursing the ruffian generation with a ravenusing fate controlling her. Her legs properly spread like an entangled giraffe, long and strong. She watched them from behind as the bypassed her hideout. She envied them and hated them.

 

The scene of grim and pandemonium was boiling, its fumes so poisonous. She jerked her head, throwing her rocks over her shoulders with indignations.

 

“You murders! You are running nowhere!” that was the only warning she gave them. The stampede flesh consumers gyrated to the unexpected seathing voice, their faces scowling the hungry wild beasts. Before they gained the conscious of confused fight; Miss Kournikova never wasted her chance of survival. She hauled the trigger with power under vengeance governed by a strong desire to kill which rapidly turned into anger.

 

A thunderous explosion bursted from the muzzle of her service revolver, resulting to the slumping of the army intelligent officer and three commandoes; down death. She rolled several times distracting the hot scuffle, bullets showered through the swirling haze of garish light and the shattering staccato of gunfire. The proficient woman shot Miss Dhawinah Morry as she tried to make a crazy move chastising her flat on the floor languishing for help. Suddenly silence fall in.

 

By now the lights were so deem, hardly to recognize somebody at a distance. General Michael Diocher has survived from Kournikova’s wrath of slaughter, now left alone with her within this gnome edifice of Vladin. She heard steps ascending upstairs speedily, “…This demon is escaping!.” She hauled, tugging up her strong body with force. She changed the magazine, swerved towards the west wing stairs fleeting up the dark gloomy stairs.

 

“You…! You prostitute, what you are doing here. You will not get out of here a life. I will wash your flesh and you skeleton will be kept in the abyss of the weakerned ones.” A male’s voice howled from behind.

 

Miss Kournikova nearly felt down, her heartbeat lost the beating rhythm, her brain went blank, and adrenaline ruptured its sacs controlling her psyche. Her face blushed far and beyond.

 

“No…..! You killed my sister and you must die!” she blurted with full of fury. Her gun tightly held.The general never made any mistake; his bullet went first getting her one inch above heart. She tumbled down writing and heaped herself across the aisle of the tomb valley. The general ambled to his foe to finish her for he can she see she is not yet dead; a word with her before he maul her skull. Kournikova had no any option but to wait for her judgment time; for the evil she had committed to the innocent families. Before she realized what was going on, she saw a dot of a crimson liquid on the general’s face as he came down over her.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

Adams Harison protruded into the enormous laboratory without any spark of fear or threat. His face covered by a shine diamond like mask. Both hands held the heavy gun, like a fathom in sea of phantoms. This biological laboratory was today maintained clean expecting the general and his men to come to perform their rituals of sanctification by cremating the American soldiers. He had been kept alive for the last ninety-nine days being fed, but under brutal torture. His skin has pealed nearly seventy percent and none can recognize him.

 

“Everybody freeze!” he blurted, blandishing the machine around the laboratory: twirling. The laboratory technician blenched as they went for any weapon they can master.

 

Immediately Harison sensed danger opening fire to an old folk who went for a sulphur bottle. The tussle turned out to be really. The bullets pungented the old man’s flesh, leaving him tumbling down to his dead.

 

“I say; everybody to take my orders and if not, you will all die in this quarter of evil!” He blustered. And over their, the oracles of time of end was immediately born, the bottle of sulphur was left lose, it landed down into pieces. The gas started fuming. Everybody was confused what they will do. Harison moved forward with full of fury.

 

“Why is my father held?  Where is the American fugitive?”

 

“Over there in the glass chamber of torture.” The female technician said directing with his eyes expecting the worst to witness. The dying body heard the commotion and his eyes met with his son’s. He did not believe what he saw opening fire to the three technicians with hunger, splitting toward the cubed glass where his father was held.

 

“Father … are you a life? Let us go home. I have some to rescue you…. Talk to me!” Harison sobbed searching for the way inside.

 

The huge, thick glass ostracized the prisoner to the outside. He was still a life, his heartbeat and the soul still maintained him up to the last moment. After releasing that he would not break the glass, he went for his gun. At this time, the gassing fume of sulphur had nearly engulfed a quarter of the laboratory. Taking the gun, he stood three meters away from the cubed glass where his father was held, opening fire at its left corner breaking it down into pieces.

 

Harison hurtled into the chamber glass taking his father over his shoulder and hasted outside. His right hand cobbled the machine gun tight from here he can hear the shooting going around. He felt confused, premonition controlled his direction. He stood there wondering what next step he will take. He was raged and heard a gun thrush making him more confused who had been shot. He hobbled forward taking to where the sound came from. And there in front of him the general stood with his short gun directed to Miss Kournikova who wallowing on the floor. She did not see it as Harison opened fire through the general’s head, crumpled up down over her body. They stood Adams Harison with his father down his shoulder.

 

With power, she pushed the general’s body away from her thorax, the general’s crimson blood painting a mark of death across her face. She stood weakly her left hand tapped over the injured ribs.

 

“He has shot me. I am dying Harison do something. The building is coming down let us get out of here.” She purred trying to stand strong.

 

“Let me help you. You can have the gun, with your right hand. Now let us go.” He said assisting her to walk.

 

“Now we will leave to the lord to take us a life from here. But if I can’t make it, you take care of Betty and the ranch will be under you. I am going weaker. I have lost a lot of blood. I forgot to give you this diskette; it has all the information about this infernal organization. I know I will not make it, Harison.” Miss Kournikova whimpered.

 

The moon has sunk with all its evils. Great destruction had taken place now expecting another chance of villains to be born. Definitely at this hour but it will take time as it will take time still being cultured with blood and fed with human flesh, breathing from other people’s souls. It will be more dangerous than that of Vladin. Yes, the zygote had been formed in Arabic desert; its fumes will be very virulent. Its time is coming.

 

As they sprouted through the backyard towards an armored helicopter, a Germany navy jet also emerged from their west, its headlights beaming red.

 

“It is a rescue team. Something had gone wrong at home the world had been alerted of this but the Russian got it wrong; they will be ready.” She said languiding towards the empty space where definitely the rescue team might land waving her right hand leaving the gun free.

 

From their back they were not a ware whether they had been marked. A sound of grim fire was not heard leaving Miss Kournikova writing down.

 

“No! This will not happen please no!” with strong indignation, Harison forgot all about his father as both went down over Miss Kournikova’s body.

 

The rescue team was ready for this; their heavy gun lashed the coming guards with bullets from the landing fighter jet. The tussle was opened once more; the rescue team pranced once with wrath, their guns all in fire. The besiege was guaranteed, shooting elapsed from both sides.

 

“She is dead, leave us to handle them.” One rescue soldier commanded, riddling bullets to the coming guards Micky Macdonald his body was taken to the jet us the fight grew fiercer. He was still a life and he can hear and slightly recognize all that was going on.

 

Adams Harison now kabason Macdonald held his father tight sobbing, cursing all the events around gazing at kournikova’s body down there alone and death as they flew back home.

 

“Son, thanks for coming for me; May you live to be an American soldier. This crown is for you.” Micky Macdonald said giving his son his mother’s wedding. He closed his eyes and lost his troublesome ghost. The soldier inside the aircraft held silence as the American soldier left for the other world.

 

“Father, bye, I will live flaying your name high and high; forever.” He whimpered.

 

Two days after departure from Russia, captains Micky Macdonald was buried at the garden of heroes ,twenty one gun salute was fired. Kabason stood next to his father’s coffin covered with the American flag. After the gun salute he was given the flag to go and keep it, worship it, convert if into his father’s image and above all to maintain the spirit of mileages of goblins, from behind came a soft touch, it was not a touch of anybody for none of his relatives was present for the soldier’s burial. He never turned to witness.

 

“Kaba, I am sorry for what has happened to your family. Now it is over, no pain no cry, no more …. Kaba.” Betty warbled, tear down her cheeks.

 

“It is over, nothing to be done. The atrocious organization has fallen for now. I am fully triumphant for what we have done. Let my family members rest in forever.” He said tenaciously around her abdomen.

 

“I brought your horse with me. It is there waiting for you and you promised to marry me when you will be back.”

 

“Yes, open your hand. This is the ring of my mother which my father gave me and it is a shield of our marriage.” Kabason said, walking to the horse back home.

 

He was badly mauled. His body looking murkier and washed in blood and bruised skin. He was no longer the captain of the American Army, the proficient soldiers but a tattered soldier. In the Russian Antonov aircraft, he was rotating producing a violent wind moving around like a cyclone, the grass struggling to uproot them away from this iron-bird. It lifted itself up into the blue haze of the late morning, nearly noon, and there a black shadow followed them, and underneath the Odessa city was screened.

 

“I will bring you later here, definitely at the end of the spring time. Don’t go mad of it, your minds now to Vladin, I want you to kill him this week and his body will be kept until a time will come when we will announce it to the whole congress, I don’t want to kill hem; it will be a guilt of betrayal. You carry it and I will give you the chance of murder.”

 

“It is exactly what I wanted to tell you. We don’t want to give him more time. You never know whether he is also planning odd things for us.”

 

“I know how to lay the martyr art to disintegrate the entire union to look like he was killed by his whore, who they are staying with presently.”

 

“Yes, excellent, two different short games will be used to bury their body.” Miss Dina said.

 

“Regardless, don’t give him any chance; he is a bad tempered dog. He changes abruptly if he smells danger. Take caution; kill at a glance, no hesitation signs.” He cultured by atrocious spirits.

 

The chopper over passed Serodvinska ascending speedily to where Mr. Vladin’s tall body stood like a doomed statue surrounded by thirteen highly armed commandoes. They were very armed behaving as saints coming down with huge heavenly body.

 

As the chopper landed; Vladin pulled towards the helicopter, madly cocked up.

 

“Where is that American murder? I want him.” He boomed looking very annoyed. The fiend creature walked straight hubbubing like a dying pig to his man of the century. Two commandoes held not to fall but Micky MacDonald was strong enough to have a glance to the tall evil on form of him slowly he rose and crazy! Madness, he spited on the empire’s face. Then, but then Vladin assumed everything to be normal.

 

“My boy, I like your soul. I will govern it soon…. You killed my brother thinking that I can’t get you! You castrated pig, a killer, and son of a bitch. You!  Accursed are race. Motherfucker. I will pass you for ninety-nine days and nights through the spell of the doomed goblins to quaff your blood of life…. You are dead!!” Mr. Vladin harangued, his face waxed totally yellow. His spirit was high; the sinister moment was at his hand.

 

He assumed the people who had brought him. Even the general; not even a glance of congratulation. Minds, which witnessed whirled for what they saw; like a smoke mirage. The gun clicked, releasing a bullet to Micky Macdonald’s private part and deep crimson streaks of blood rolled down the ragged flesh. A horrifying shriek followed as Micky Macdonald tried to cling down but firmly held by two commandoes making the horde murderers blurred in agony.

 

“You will be bathing in darkness of dungeon of blood for the next ninety nines cursed days! You, you hog. Take him away from me before I kill him, or I forget about this sharpless figure all together.”  

                                                                                                                                   

The scamp president of the underground empire grumbled assassin threateningly. None spoke; even Dinah was scared like a worthless dog.

 

Micky Macdonald was put in a glass cabin measuring seven foot high, four feet wide. Naked, with a controlled temperature below negative seven. The gallon bird was fueled with a gas with peels his flesh slowly with pain beyond human feeling. All this time he will be fed to maintain his time of life.

 

“This will continue for three months to make you feel the pain of losing my loving brothers. You killed him thinking that you will run away!” Vladin yelled to the statue-sedan that was placed in the laboratory of the corpses on route to his underground residential rooms. On the third night after arriving Severodvinska, general escorted Miss Dina to Mr. Vladin’s chamber of life. At exactly mid night Mr. Vladin’s head was drilled with a bullet at his dead bed. His prostitute was also shot as she tried to escape. Both corpses were dumped into a deep freezer to wait their time of disposal.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

The corridor was so serene occupied by four well-armed commandoes. At the far end, automatic thick door led to the down-floor conference of General Michael Diochev. Miss Kournikova plunged together with Adams Harison towards the four commandoes, extremely valor sickened with revenge. Their hands thrown lower at the barrel grip of their heavy calibrate automatic, descending out of the darkness of illusion, along the corridor, towards the guards as fire in hell.

 

“Don’t move! No any bitchy act. You wholesome bastards! Drop your guns, now!” She shouted. The look in her eyes was steady, fierce and fiery like that of a glorified flying dragon serpent. Excuse me!, that will never be the faith of stubborn commandoes to hit to any haunting adversary female with the experienced baby boy without a struggle, and for that she was very aware.

 

When the commandoes went down for their kalasnochov, hastily, the intrepid invaders threw their fingers for the triggers of their guns. Muffled explosion of the automatic gunfire erupted. Wild shots conquered the commotion along the corridor of fire. The commandoes went berserk, totally cornered in the tunnel of death; option was no more apart from facing the muddled end. Horrible pain came up from the commandoes, there bodies badly hashed with bullets without any meager resistance.

 

Another horror of martyr was marked definitely the start of the lavish manslaughter.

 

“Search for the remote key switch; Harison, quick! Let me keep guard, these damn idiots will flow in within seconds!! She said bravery facing to the entry. She was right; the wild shooting made every guard within the whizzing to run out for their skulls. None stood to believe the whizzing bullet. The swine commandoes tripped like the disturbed wasps, their assault riffles directing their way.

 

“Harison, have you got the key?”                                                                                   

 

“No…oh yah. I have got it.”

 

“Okay, button the yellow light and ten press the number six, six, thrice …. Quick! They are coming.’’ She saw them squeezing the corridor entry like bullocks out for slaughter.

 

And, Adams Harison heard their coming heavy steps, grumbling, struggling to be the first comrade of Vladin to free these two crying ghosts. Jerking his confused head, he saw them. His mind whirled, leaving the remote key switch free from his fingers; falling. He went down for his gun.

                       

“No! Open the door! Let me handle them. Button the yellow light and bless the number six, six, thrice,” her cry made Adams Harison to be conscious of what he was supposed to do. Miss Kournikova plucked two grenades from her chest leaving her gun falling with a thud sound. She hauled the grenade pins with her used molars forcefully, spitting a cursing spite. She waited them to enter as many as possible along the one hundred-metre corridor.

 

Adams Harison pressed the number thrice with tremor a nadiring hope. The greatest magic landed as the door started disappearing into the walls. At that same time the twilight world bursted with the cracks of thunder and fire intertwined within the corridor of death. And then the scream of agony and wince consumed the horrible tunnel. A terrible quake waved along the corridor, shaking the corpses, bodies bashed all around with blood mixed with phlegm oiled the creamy white paint.

 

“Let us move in, they are coming!”

 

“It will take time before they will break this door.”

 

“More than two hours, they will be struggling with it. For one, they will not bomb it.” She said taking her last glance towards the mutilated bodies held in the gray smoke dampness of hell.

 

Again! A bigoted muffle explosion of a powerful rifle boomed violently and another followed. Miss Kournikova was startled on what to do next as the commandoes sprint with rifles held high towards them through the ghostly gray vapor.

 

“Get off! You will be killed.” Adams Harison screamed pulling her through the open door. Immediately when all were inside, he pressed the red button, the heavy door started shrinking. Bullets whizzed through the air creating a scene of wild and noisy disorder, lashing the iron door with sparks bit.

 

The seathing carnage was steady building up as the commandoes scrambles like buffaloes chasing innocent rabbits; the pugnacious blood beasts were stopped as Adams Harison threw to them seven kilos Israel made hand bomb. The oracle was not heard; the door crossed the death game.

 

“We need to hurry up before the attack signals gets to the conference.” She chirped, swerving towards the underground lift.

 

“I go for my father first and you storm the conference.”

 

“Yah, I am going to crumble these meeting before they disappear!” she said being controlled in chaste of war. She continued.” Make sure you are your wrist detector to direct you. Listen; your father is held in the laboratory, you hijack one of the laboratory technician to direct you to where they this grabby incursion.”

 

“Where will we meet?”

 

“I will direct you; definitely we might use the route which we have passed through. Then we will escape with their helicopter across the backyard. First, mark dexterity where you step or otherwise you will be killed within this house of evil. Second, you must be very swift and accurate. Third, use your intelligence within this subterranean dirt war. Lastly I wish you a successive operation to rescue your father.” She chided as the lifts door opened.

 

“I wish you the best operation see you.” Harison blurted. He hugged her and threw a victory thumb at her. They landed at the underground lobby, which led to the conference hall with thinly blight painted corridor heading to the laboratory.

 

Kournikova darted around for any approaching enemy. Striding towards a door on front of her without a guard. She buttoned an automatic switch held at the stronghold of the door. Immediately the door sprouted before her. She stuttered something unutterable and escorted by the sign of the holy cross. Her service revolver clung between her arms.

 

She emerged like a ghost above the huge conference. Her image was very scaring, cruel, mysterious and all that unbelievable. She stood alone over the roof of the podium stand; underneath sat general Michael Dirochev and the entire cabinet staff, across the hall over seven hundred delegates sat totally whacked by the naught ugly woman- ghost above the podium. The general’s raucous voice can be heard clearly.

 

“…And now comrades, I am very sorry for the death of our leader; Mr. President Vladin who was shot by his girlfriend. I heard this today morning as I was welcoming our comrades from Japan. A short gun was found in that woman’s purse…. Quickly enough our men with their highest experience shot her as she tried to escape with our armored helicopter…”

 

“So; Vladin already had been killed by this scoundrel creature!” Kournikova murmured with a bitter-temperate look on her face. Scanning a violent stare to the quite conference, she removed her dark glasses; the red cap was thrown off leaving her rock ebony hair free. She rocked her head throwing the mass of hair backward down her shoulder.

 

“You are dead!”

 

A horrible scream went up. The delegate’s scream went up. The delegates scrambled down, wallowing under their seats. The general was totally stunned by the behaviors of the delegates and the harsh, unknown warning from nowhere. He sprang up as a desert gorilla accompanied by a high tone alarm booming throughout the building.

 

General Michael Diochev hasted toward the back door. Over the roof the podium, the prowess female hauled her automatic portable cannon. She directed the muzzle to the confused wicked men scrambling to the door under bedlam state. A terrible crunch was heard accompanied by scarlet sparks consuming the falling darkness within this underground conference of evil. The second rocket blew up the scrawling victims within their seats, excavating into the floor, the swarthy abyss lightened by the sparks of electric cables beaming in the execution ground. The scream was tremendous in agony, war of building. Abruptly the lights; all went off.

 

She stood there motionless with her dark brunette hair falling in waves to her shoulders; defining her face in darkness; a total variant warrior. She swirled towards the one hundred meters upstairs, with a frantic motion, her thoughts far away from these writing victims under plain lingering for a breath. She was badly wizened, her age betraying her scowl face of a dying gorilla. A big boom was heard as she flew to the second floor stairs, climbing two at once when the conference wall collapsed.

 

As she took to the third floor, the general; Michael Diocher emerged with his men and Miss Dina Morry on his left, with a powerful machine gun brandishing like scared owl. Miss Kournikova was ready, murkiness controlling her to hell. Already she had heard their boasting tramping; she cocked her service revolver and waited. She counted them up to four and the fifth one was the general; her man of the day. By now it was going to eight thirty afternoon hour, the scrapping was tense worse threatened by the wrecking of the great edifice gnome palace of Vladin and his realm of evil.

 

The hour was dropping speedy when the human nature will be sent to the world of great misery and suffering; the hell of fire or eternal death!. She took a deep, painful sigh cursing the ruffian generation with a ravenusing fate controlling her. Her legs properly spread like an entangled giraffe, long and strong. She watched them from behind as the bypassed her hideout. She envied them and hated them.

 

The scene of grim and pandemonium was boiling, its fumes so poisonous. She jerked her head, throwing her rocks over her shoulders with indignations.

 

“You murders! You are running nowhere!” that was the only warning she gave them. The stampede flesh consumers gyrated to the unexpected seathing voice, their faces scowling like the hungry wild beasts. Before they gained the conscious of confused fight; Miss Kournikova never wasted her chance of survival. She hauled the trigger with power under vengeance governed by a strong desire to kill which rapidly turned into anger.

 

A thunderous explosion bursted from the muzzle of her service revolver, resulting to the slumping of the army intelligent officer and three commandoes; down death. She rolled several times distracting the hot scuffle, bullets showered through the swirling haze of garish light and the shattering staccato of gunfire. The proficient woman shot Miss Dinah Morry as she tried to make a crazy move chastising her flat on the floor languishing for help. Suddenly, silence fall in.

 

By now the lights were so deem, hardly to recognize somebody at a distance. General Michael Diochev has survived from Kournikova’s wrath of slaughter, now left alone with her within this gnome edifice of Vladin. She heard steps ascending upstairs speedily, “…This demon is escaping!” She hauled, tugging up her strong body with force. She changed the magazine, swerved towards the west wing stairs fleeting up the dark gloomy stairs.

 

“You…! You prostitute, what you are doing here. You will not get out of here a life. I will wash your flesh and you skeleton will be kept in the abyss of the weakened ones.” A male’s voice howled from behind.

 

Miss Kournikova nearly felt down, her heartbeat lost the beating rhythm, her brain went blank, and adrenaline ruptured its sacs controlling her psyche. Her face blushed far and beyond.

 

“No… You killed my sister and you must die!” she blurted with full of fury. Her gun tightly held. The general never made any mistake; his bullet went first getting her one-inch above heart. She tumbled down writing and heaped herself across the aisle of the tomb valley. The general ambled to his foe to finish her for he can she see she is not yet dead; a word with her before he maul her skull. Kournikova had no any option but to wait for her judgment time; for the evil she had committed to the innocent families. Before she realized what was going on, she saw a dot of a crimson liquid on the general’s face as he came down over her.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

Adams Harrison protruded into the enormous laboratory without any spark of fear or threat. His face covered by a shine diamond like mask. Both hands held the heavy gun, like a fathom in sea of phantoms. This biological laboratory was today maintained clean expecting the general and his men to come to perform their rituals of sanctification by cremating the American soldier. He had been kept alive for the last ninety-nine days being fed, but under brutal torture. His skin has pealed nearly seventy percent and none can recognize him.

 

“Everybody freeze!” he blurted, blandishing the machine around the laboratory: twirling. The laboratory technician blenched as they went for any weapon they can master.

 

Immediately Harison sensed danger, opening fire to an old folk who went for a sulphur bottle. The tussle turned out to be really. The bullets pungented the old man’s flesh, leaving him tumbling down to his ancestors.

 

“I say; everybody to take my orders and if not, you will all die in this quarter of evil!” He blustered. And over there, the oracles of time of end were immediately born, the bottle of sulphur was left loose, it landed down into pieces. The gas started fuming. Everybody was confused what he or she will do. Harison moved forward with full of fury.

 

“Why is my father held?  Where is the American fugitive?”

 

“Over there in the glass chamber of torture.” The female technician said directing his eyes expecting the worst to witness. The dying body heard the commotion and his eyes met with his son’s. He did not believe what he saw opening fire to the three technicians with hunger, splitting toward the cubed glass where his father was held.

 

“Father … are you a life? Let us go home. I have come to rescue you…. Talk to me!” Harison sobbed searching for the way inside.

 

The huge, thick glass ostracized the prisoner to the outside. He was still a life; his heartbeat and the soul still maintained him up to the last moment. After releasing that he would not break the glass, he went for his gun. At this time, the gassing fume of sulphur had nearly engulfed a quarter of the laboratory. Taking the gun, he stood three meters away from the cubed glass where his father was held, opening fire at its left corner breaking it down into pieces.

 

Harison hurtled into the chamber glass taking his father over his shoulder and hasted outside. His right hand cobbled the machine gun tight from here he can hear the shooting going around. He felt confused premonition controlled his direction. He stood there wondering what next step he will take. He was raged and heard a gun thrush making him more confused who had been shot. He hobbled forward taking to where the sound came from. And there in front of him the general stood with his short gun directed to Miss Kournikova who wallowing on the floor. She did not see it as Harison opened fire through the general’s head, crumpled up down over her body. They stood Adams Harison with his father down his shoulder.

 

With power, she pushed the general’s body away from her thorax, the general’s crimson blood painting a mark of death across her face. She stood weakly her left hand tapped over the injured ribs.

 

“He has shot me. I am dying Harison do something. The building is coming down let us get out of here.” She purred trying to stand strong.

 

“Let me help you. You can have the gun, with your right hand. Now let us go.” He said assisting her to walk.

 

“Now we will leave to the lord to take us a life from here. But if I can’t make it, you take care of Betty and the ranch will be under you. I am going weaker. I have lost a lot of blood. I forgot to give you this diskette; it has all the information about this infernal organization. I know I will not make it, Harison.” Miss Kournikova whimpered.

 

The moon has sunk with all its evils. Great destruction had taken place now expecting another chance of villains to be born. Definitely at this hour but it will take time as it will take time still being cultured with blood and fed with human flesh, breathing from other people’s souls. It will be more dangerous than that of Vladin. Yes, the zygote had been formed in Arabic desert; its fumes will be very virulent. Its time is coming.

 

As they sprouted through the backyard towards an armored helicopter, a Germany navy jet also emerged from their west, its headlights beaming red.

 

“It is a rescue team. Something had gone wrong at home the world had been alerted of this but the Russian got it wrong; they will be ready.” She said languiding towards the empty space where definitely the rescue team might land waving her right hand leaving the gun free.

 

From their back they were not a ware whether they had been marked. A sound of grim fire was not heard leaving Miss Kournikova writing down.

 

“No! This will not happen please no!” with strong indignation, Harison forgot all about his father as both went down over Miss Kournikova’s body.

 

The rescue team was ready for this; their heavy gun lashed the coming guards with bullets from the landing fighter jet. The tussle was opened once more; the rescue team pranced once with wrath, their guns all in fire. The besiege was guaranteed, shooting elapsed from both sides.

 

“She is dead, leave us to handle them.” One rescue soldier commanded, riddling bullets to the coming guards Micky Macdonald his body was taken to the jet us the fight grew fiercer. He was still a life and he can hear and slightly recognize all that was going on.

 

Adams Harison now Kabason Macdonald held his father tight sobbing, cursing all the events around gazing at Kournikova’s body down there alone and death as they flew back home.

 

“Son, thanks for coming for me; May you live to be an American soldier. This crown is for you.” Micky Macdonald said giving his son his mother’s wedding ring. He closed his eyes and lost his troublesome ghost. The soldier inside the aircraft held silence as the American soldier left for the other world.

 

“Father, bye, I will live flaying your name high and high; forever,” He whimpered.

 

Two days after departure from Russia, captains Micky Macdonald was buried at the garden of heroes, twenty-one gun salutes was fired. Kabason stood next to his father’s coffin covered with the American flag. After the gun salute he was given the flag to go and keep it, worship it, convert if into his father’s image and above all to maintain the spirit of mileages of goblins, from behind came a soft touch, it was not a touch of anybody for none of his relatives was present for the soldier’s burial. He never turned to witness.

 

“Kaba, I am sorry for what has happened to your family. Now it is over, no pain no cry, no more. Kaba.” Betty warbled, tear down her cheeks.

 

“It is over, nothing to be done. The atrocious organization has fallen for now. I am fully triumphant for what we have done. Let my family members rest in forever.” He said tenaciousing around her abdomen.

 

“I brought your horse with me. It is there waiting for you and you promised to marry me when you will be back.”

 

“Yes, open your hand. This is the ring of my mother which my father gave me and it is a shield of our marriage.” Kabason said, walking to the horse back home. 

 

“Yes, open your hands. This is the the ring of my mom which my father gave me before he died, it is a shield of our marriage.” Kabason sniffled with tears slithering down his cheeks. He took her left and both shuffled towards the waiting police car. On front of the car, Kabason sheered to the horsebox where his stallion was held . He touched it's mane and lounged around it happily.

 

“Kaba , let us go they are waiting us.” Betty mumbled, taking his light hand. Both gravitated to the police car and drove home. On the anniversary of Kabason's family ancineration, he married Betty at St Andrew's church; Texas.  

 

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