Bad Luck Black Money (29 page)

Chapter 44

Junior hesitated before entering the room. On the other side of the door was his father. A man, he hadn't seen since he was a child. A man, who was technically his dad, but whom in reality was a stranger. His emotions were all over the place, especially with Noi's recent betrayal.

Junior decided the best course of action was to play it cool. Nothing good ever comes from having a hot head and sharp tongue.

Upon opening the door, he spotted his father spread out on a floor pillow. "Hello," said Junior.

Turning his head to see who'd come in, Boss responded, "Hello."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, why not? There are plenty giant pillows."

Junior sat down with one pillow separating him from his dad. They sat in awkward silence for a minute, and then Junior said, "Thanks for coming for me. I appreciate it."

Boss decided to keep things civil. There wasn't anything to be gained by telling his son that the real reason he came was for intel on King Jaheal Naheer.

"Not a problem.... So, what do they call you?"

"I go by Junior."

"Junior, huh? I wouldn't have guessed that.... You can call me, Boss."

"... Nice to meet you, Boss."

Another minute passed with neither knowing what to say. Junior decided to be the bigger man and ignore the elephant in the room. It was best to make a pleasant memory of the only time that he'd ever get to talk to his father... probably.

"I have to say, 'thank you' for the trust fund. It’s been a blast having money, traveling the world, sleeping with supermodels. Thanks."

"You are welcome, Junior. But money is cheap; time is what's expensive."

"I'll remember that," Junior said. "Nevertheless, I've lived a life that most people can only dream of."

At that moment, Prince Abdul knocked on the door, while opening it. "I regret to break up this father and son reunion, but I have to speak with Boss, alone."

"OK, I can take a hint," said Junior, as he stood up. He leaned over to Boss and outstretched his hand, "It was great meeting you, sir."

Boss shook his son's hand and said, "Yes, it was."

Junior left the room, and for a moment, Boss wondered if he had given up on his first-born child, too soon. He had expected the boy to be accusatory and slow; instead Junior seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.

"As you can see, we took excellent care of your son," stated Abdul.

"OK," responded Boss.

"May, I sit?"

"Knock yourself out," said Boss pointing at a giant yellow pillow next to his own.

After sitting down and seeming to deliberate on how to begin, Prince Abdul said, "You are in the New World Order, right?"

Not trying to hide the suspicious look on his face, Boss replied, "What's it to you?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. You see, my brother, Prince Omar cannot keep his mouth closed. He brags to me about how our father the king can only save two sons in the upcoming end of days. Prince Jaheal Naheer the Seventh and Omar are the two sons, who he has chosen to survive.

It is my understanding that the King can choose any two of his children to save. I can eliminate all of his daughters from being chosen. I mean, why would the King want to save a daughter? He wouldn't. Nobody would.

So, that leaves only a pool of sons from which to choose. The Seventh and Omar are his two, first sons, which his first wife gave him. They are the logical choice. The Seventh is first in line for the throne. His fate was sealed from the moment he burst forth from his mother's womb. But Omar... Omar's place in line isn't written in stone. He can be usurped.

The King is a wise man. He is also a fair man. If one of his sons stood out from the rest by doing great deeds or showing leadership during times of adversity then that son might take Omar's spot. Is this not correct?"

Prince Abdul looked to Boss for confirmation, but the Western businessman wore his face like a mask and said nothing. The Prince continued talking.

"Nalaheb is a minor son from the King's eighth wife.... He is a fool. His mind is mush, filled with other people's beliefs and popular culture manure. Such a man is not worthy of life. Do you not agree?

... My invisible hand has guided him onto this path of destruction. It was easy as taking candy from a baby.

Soon, my warriors will emerge from the desert sands and slay all who oppose the King. I will, personally, slash Nalaheb's throat. And when the King learns of how I single-handedly destroyed the traitors, he will toss aside Omar and induct me into the New World Order."

A knowing smile came upon Boss's lips as he said, "You had better hope that King Jaheal doesn't know about the play, Macbeth by William Shakespeare."

"I do not think it matters much if the King suspects duplicity on my part. The fact that I was able to imagine such a scenario and then make it come to fruition speaks volumes about my potential value to both him and the Organization."

"Maybe," said Boss, rubbing his chin in a thinking manner. "But lots of things can go wrong. The first one being that I might rat you out to the King."

"True, you have the power to collapse this entire endeavor upon my head. Yet, why would you? I am prepared to offer you my eternal allegiance for your cooperation. Loyalty even above my own family."

"You're one interesting dude, Abdul. You are a snake with the loyalty of a jackal, and you might prove useful in the future.... Tell you what, get Nalaheb in here. Cut his throat in front of my eyes. His lifeblood flowing at my feet will bond you to me and my family, forever."

Without any hesitation, Prince Abdul jumped to his feet and said, "As you wish," and left.

Boss gently massaged his sore balls then rubbed his aching jaw. He had planned on more recuperation time before the killing got started, but shit happens. He got up and leisurely walked over to the D2NS near the doorway.

Three little buttons would push two .45's into his hands. When he simultaneously pressed another three digits, a clear shield would burst forth from the contraption, giving him 220 degrees worth of bulletproof protection. Similar to a child's sliding tile puzzle, two small holes would follow his hand movements, allowing him to shoot wherever, at will.

About the only thing the Day-2-Night Scrambler couldn't do is scramble communications. The tech to do that was secured at P.M.T. And the traitor, who had leaked its existence to the Middle Eastern terrorists, was currently being strapped down to a torture rack at Boss's Bolivian ranch.

As he looked down at the keypad, the reality of what he was about to do, hit his conscious hard. Boss had ordered vile things be done to bad people before, but it was never for pleasure. There was always reason to the madness. Now, he was about to indiscriminately slaughter human beings like hogs. Every man regardless of whether he had a gun or not, all the women including Svetlana, even the kitchen servants were going to be murdered by his own hands. He would only spare Prince Abdul and Junior from receiving a bullet to the brain.

"What has happened to me?" Boss thought. "A year ago, I was a different person. I had ethics and morality. Maybe, they were a little twisted, but at least I had them.

Am I a psychopath? I view mankind as a cancer upon the face of the Earth, but that's what they are.... Aren't they?

The Duke of Winterfield certainly thinks no more of common men than maggots. And the Duke holds the power of life and death in his hands. He has a row of impaling trees in his arboretum with my family's name on them!

I've got to stay in the Duke's good graces.... What would the Duke have me do?

He would kill them all, just like I'm going to do. He probably wouldn't kill the family of NWO members, but then again, neither will I. Abdul and Junior stay alive... for now.

When did I become the Duke's bitch? And why do I doubt myself? I'm right.

Kill them all and let Lucifer sort them out!"

Chapter 45

Junior was sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to figure out his next move when Svetlana burst into the room. She still had on the old-timey, extra short, nurse's uniform. She hand a duffle bag draped over her shoulder and toted a medical cooler with her left hand.

"Are you alone?" asked Svetlana, as she scanned the room.

"Uh, yeah," answered Junior. "Who are you?"

"Svetlana."

The beauty of the giant woman smote Junior. All thoughts of Noi fled from his mind, like cockroaches from the light.

Svetlana opened the duffel bag and began pulling out combat fatigues in desert camouflage style. She laid various weapons out on the carpet, some of which Junior recognized from having watched action movies.

An uneasy feeling came over Junior. Pointing at the firearms on the floor, he asked, "What are those for?"

"For emergencies," responded Svetlana, who began taking off her clothes. "Your father is a very bad man. He is now property of the New World Order."

As her perfect breasts were released from their confining bra, Junior gasped at their magnificence. He had seen more than his share of boobs, but Svetlana's were a work of art, worthy of being hung in the Louvre.

"Wow!" exclaimed Junior.

"Why are you staring at my body?" asked Svetlana, while dusting away sand trapped in her crevices.

"Amazing," Junior said, unable and unwilling to avert his gaze from the goddess. He immediately noticed that her vagina was swollen, engorged from some sort of recent excitement.

"Look," said Svetlana, as she started to clothe herself in a sports bra and conservative, white cotton panties. "If you want to become something other than an overfed slug, then you will come with me. You have much potential, or so say the Powers that I work for.

Stay or go. Choose now."

Junior continued to watch her dressing and sliding weaponry into hidden holsters and concealed pockets. He didn't know what to do.

"If I go with you, does that mean you're my girlfriend?"

"Ha ha," laughed the tall, female warrior. "I would destroy you. Very few men can handle me, and even fewer will ever get the chance.... I'll make deal. You last one year, then we'll talk, yes?"

Like they had, time and time before, Junior's hormones made the decision for him. "I'll go."

"Of course, you will," said Svetlana as she pulled Junior by the arm, toward the door behind her. "All men think with penis. All men."

Chapter 46

All the drones had gone offline. Even the satellite phones carried by some of his men were not working, which left Major Elliot climbing the walls of the control tower in Tazirbu, Libya. Someone or something was blocking all signals going into and out of the Naheer Kingdom.

As a gaggle of geeks worked on fixing the communication problem, Elliot wondered if he had made a tactical mistake, not leading his men from the front. But hindsight was 20/20 and useless. Now, he had to find a way to get those drones back online, or the mission might go FUBAR.

"Give me a status report, Eugene," Major Elliot commanded.

A skinny man wearing thick plastic glasses responded, "We're working on it. It's like an EMP (electromagnetic pulse) fried everything in the field. But I don't think that's it."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not sure, but I think there may be some sort of jamming device, blocking our transmissions. But it would have to be unbelievably intense to block all of our satellite data link systems, too."

"Could a jamming device knock the drones down?"

"Highly unlikely. The planes should keep flying on their last trajectory. As long as we get them back online within a couple of hours, they should stay airborne.... At least, in theory."

"How about the satellite phones? Anyway to force a message through to my sergeant?"

"No. Whatever is screwing up our signals, will block anything we try. But... the good news is that whatever is doing the jamming has to be using an unbelievable amount of electricity, like 100 million kilowatts. I don't know what kind of generator they have that could produce that kind of power."

"What's your best guess of how long they can keep up the jamming?" Elliot asked, with his arms folded tightly against his chest.

"Just an educated guess... five minutes."

"Shit," cursed Elliot.

Chapter 47

Junior followed closely behind Svetlana. He carried her duffel bag and medical cooler. She had instructed him to stay close but not too close, whatever that meant.

Nobody had tried to stop them up to this point, and now they were almost at the front door, guarded by two men holding AK-47s. The bigger guard ordered them to stop. Svetlana put her hands above her head and slowly moved closer to the guards, who pointed their weapons squarely at her.

"Where you," were the only words one of the guards managed to say before Svetlana sprayed them with a clear liquid mist, which jetted from her wristwatch. They instantly fell to the floor like sacks of potatoes.

"Are they dead?" asked Junior, mildly shocked.

"No, they are temporarily paralyzed," said Svetlana, stepping over their prone bodies and out the door. "We don't kill unless necessary. We are not animals."

"... O... K," Junior said, quickening his pace to catch up with her.

Svetlana went to the first Tahoe in line, opened the passenger door, and slid over into the driver's seat. "Get in," she ordered.

By the time Junior had managed to load her bag, cooler, and himself in the cab, Svetlana took off, sending a cloud of sand into the air in her wake.

"Seatbelt," she ordered.

"Right," said Junior. He put on his seat belt, noticed that she hadn't put hers on, but wisely chose to not say anything about it. "Do you have a destination in mind, or are we winging it?"

"I know what I am doing," Svetlana replied.

She drove the vehicle so fast that it caught air with every sand dune they drove over. Junior dug his fingers into the leather seat and wondered if he would die in a car crash or from dehydration when they ran out of gas in the middle of the desert.

Ten minutes later, Svetlana stopped in a small valley between two monstrous sand dunes. She got out and started walking, after ordering Junior to bring her things.

"Where are we going? There's nothing out here. You can't walk out in the middle of the desert in the noonday heat with no water and expect to live very long."

"Really?" Svetlana asked, while she looked at her watch. "Have some faith."

At that moment, a strange feeling came over Junior, and he felt compelled to look up. A circular aircraft was hovering above them. It was completely silent and wasn't stirring up any sand.

"What in the hell is that?"

"Do not fear. It is not U.F.O. It's latest technology in aviation."

A rope ladder fell from the center of the craft to the ground. Svetlana took her duffle bag and cooler from Junior and began climbing up the rope, effortlessly.

"What you waiting for?" Svetlana called down to Junior, when she was already halfway up the rope ladder.

Junior took one last look around him, and then started the long climb upward. He was excited, confused, and a little scared. Just like the first time he had sex.