Life as a New Hire Ch. 37

A Chinese frigate (he could tell by the sonar system) dutifully kept chasing him away. The Japanese commander and his crew were as surprised as nearly everyone else four hours later when the FPSO was rocked by a series of explosions, then quickly broke apart and sank. Then it was definitely the time to get the Hell out of Dodge because that pesky Chinese frigate became downright hostile.

After he sent the frigate away, the Chinese Destroyer Captain had a dilemma. The other frigate was making a circuit to the northwest, warding against any attack from the Khanate. He had been doing the same thing to the northeast, warding against a possible North Korean attack. The frigate he had sent to drive the pesky submarine away had been on the southeastern circuit, defending against the Russian fleet's approach.

The Captain made the logical choice. He pulled the frigate to the northwest in closer while he took up an east-southeastern position. It was indeed the best he could do. His problem was that while he could still bring more air defenses into play, his early warning time was now cut by a third. When eight sea-skimmer missiles appeared from the northeast (coincidentally the direction of N.Korea), a tragic race was on.

The missiles were coming in at Mach 0.8 flying roughly 8 meters over choppy seas. Even had he been in his original position, his destroyer most likely could not have been able to stop them all. As it was, the northern frigate wasn't yet within the 3 km range for her CIWS (Close-In Weapon System), so it could contribute nothing to the blunt the onslaught.

The destroyer was actually moving away from both the FPSO (the target) and the incoming sea-skimmers. His two CIWS's (Type 730 Gatling canons) had to track eight missiles coming in echelon, not in line. The two guns engaged. One Silkworm died...then a second and third in quick succession. A fourth missile died as it impacted the platform. The other four 515 kg warheads penetrated the structure, then detonated.

The FPSO's death was violent and abrupt. Three workers survived the disaster. The rest burned, or were dragged down to the bottom of Bohai Bay. As the fiery destruction of his charge lit up his screens, an urgent warning came in from the Eastern Fleet...seven Silkworms launched from Okinawan waters had mere moments ago destroyed the Chunxiao Natural Gas platform.

In both cases, the trail would eventually lead back to Liberia-registered small merchant ships using pre-fabricated launchers, 'misplaced' Bangladeshi HY-2 hybrid missiles and black market Iranian targeting systems supposedly sold to an Islamic terrorist group based in Somalia. The ship off the Okinawan coast had experienced a malfunction in one of its Silkworms. Both ships were scuttled within minutes of the attacks. The malfunctioning missile was detonated once her ship was sunk beneath the waves. Of the crews...

[Life and learning in the JIKIT(ties)]

By this stage in its evolution, JIKIT had three sections. Javiera ran the whole shebang as well as our 'Administrative' section - Unit 'Xerxes'. At that point, I asked Javiera to ask that damn computer to give my team's name a second shot. She assured me that wasn't how the process worked. Then she asked me about UHAUL, so I shut up. Xerxes took care of the inter-governmental activities.

Unit L, our 'Action' Section, operated around specific activities involving me and my privileged information. Unit 'Urchin' ~ the computer gave them a real name too ~ dealt with other covet taskforce activities, like attacking PRC infrastructure and resources. They were completely off the reservation. Neither the UK nor the US higher ups knew what their underlings were up to.

Why would Urchin do something so career-disabling and criminal? They had highly skilled resources they could disavow and who wouldn't embarrass them down the line, and they weren't afraid to use them. The Amazons, Ninja, Black Lotus and Thuggee were going to be killing North Koreans and Chinese anyway and there was no real way to stop them.

So, Lady Fathom decided to utilize that bizarre menagerie instead. Britain and the US had people who did covert operations; their new allies gave them force amplification. That meant three CIA operatives, working with four 'other' groups, took part in sinking two Chinese FPSO's, then covered up the crime and disposed of any evidence the Amazons and Ninja left behind.

All the agents knew about their cohorts was that they were ready, willing and able to get the job done. The CIA had two roles. The first was to 'fix' Japanese merchant ship tracking information so no one got in the way of those two improvised missile rostrums getting to the primo spot for sending their packages to 'China with Love'.

The second role was to help the crews of each ship escape via US Naval assets...which meant submarines; no questions asked. No one in the US Navy 'knew' who they were picking up, or what they'd done.

That didn't mean they were stupid, either. FPSO's were sinking a few hundred kilometers away, two smaller vessels were racing for the bottom far closer and they had 20 black-pajama types who a) needed to stealthily exit the vicinity and b) were short on conversational skills.

Lady Fathom saved her exuberance until both teams put their feet on dry land. I could see it in her eyes. This was better than any orgasm she'd ever had. We had yet to sleep together, but that was coming soon. For Lady Yum-yum, it was the realization that she had a small army of highly skilled and fanatically motivated specialist she could disavow at a moment's notice.

Oh, she knew what she was doing was light-years beyond wrong. She wasn't worried about an uproar in Parliament and the downfall of the current governing coalition. No, she knew her boss at MI-6 would permanently 'retire' her if he ever found out. She didn't care. This was what she was born to do ~ restore British influence and power by crushing her enemies by any means necessary. She was a fanatic in her own way - a super-patriot.

Her ladyship and Addison shared a private moment, then looked at me when the good news came in. It was the aphrodisiac of power. Their faith in Riki and Mehmet Ali-Sharif grew as well. Mehmet decided to remain on the legal side of the line with Javiera so they could fend off the inevitable Congressional investigation with straight faces and plenty of 'I wasn't in the room when that was discussed' answers. We all accepted that perjury was wrong ... (snicker).

He gave his two underlings the freedom to decide their own fates. Agent-86 and Nicholas decided to stay in the room after Mehmet left. Like every other place I'd worked for in any official capacity in my entire short lifespan, these people were losing their God-damn minds and I somehow felt responsible for ruining their futures.

In 36 hours, Addison secured a ten person team from the CIA's SOG (Special Operations Group). Lady Fathom added an eight person squad of the British SSR (Special Reconnaissance Regiment) (Chaz's buddies).

My 'Amazon Diplomatic Corps' put together a dozen members of India's Amazon House Mookambika (the Demon Slayers) led by their 'Apprentice (the heir-apparent to the House), a 'temple' of the Booth-gan (they didn't call themselves Thuggee - whoops) and a dozen Black Lotus infiltrators (not sure what that designation meant).

Riki proved her grasp of our evolving network by suggesting we recruit locals, and by locals, she meant Nepalese. Lady F smacked herself on the forehead for missing what had been such an obvious choice for this mission. When the half-dozen combined-forces groups began slipping over the Tibetan border, they included twenty-four Tibetan-fluent volunteers from the 2nd battalion, Royal Gurkha Rifles who had been coincidentally stationed in nearby Brunei.

(And finally, the Here and Now)

Normally, when I addressed an audience, I had a feeling of how my presentation went. Normally, when I was talking to women, I could tell how close I was to getting laid. I was unsure what to make of this crowd. I had finished my first address to the Amazon Council, updating them about our current diplomatic state of affairs.

If you recall, the Council had stayed convened because I engineered High Priest Hayden's 'journey to the cliffs'. They were still trying to figure out a Regency Council...and that was my fault too. You see, Fate selected a certain number of young Amazon girls from birth to be candidates for the next High Priestess. Somewhere in their early to mid-twenties one of them would be chosen after the current High Priestess passed.

They would decide on such a young leader out of ancient necessity. Forcing all the House Heads to make the long, dangerous journey to form a Council and make the selection had once been a risky undertaking. The High Priestess was supposed to reign thirty to thirty-five years before they had to make the trek again. That practical system had worked well for the Host for over a millennia, before I came along.

These possible future leaders of the Host, ignorant of their special status, were watched by the Council, the High Priestess and the Augurs for signs of divine favor and crucial Amazon social, military and leadership skills. Any of the gifted Amazons could be the one. As time wore on, more and more of the candidates would be disqualified until, when the old Priestess died, the Council would pick one of the usually two or three ladies left.

You may note that this process ASSUMED that the old High Priestess would live out her normal lifespan and not willingly pass on until the decision process was upon the Council. I didn't give Hayden that luxury, so roughly SEVEN YEARS before Hayden was supposed to pass, she died. That meant all the candidates instead of being from 22 ~ 25 were more like 15 ~ 18.

That was 'too young' for the Council. Besides, there were still too many girls to choose from. Krasimira informed me that there were sixteen remaining. She offered to tell me who they were, but I declined. I told her it was because I risked capture and torture by our enemies, so it would be too dangerous. Honestly, I didn't want to know. Not at that moment anyway.

That meant whomever was on the Regency Council would be ruling the Host for as much as a decade. That was unprecedented. In the days of old, the High Priestesses who died before their time were kind enough to perish early in their tenures. That meant the Council could select the 'loser' from the first election and bestow on her the honor. The only other candidate from Hayden's election was already dead, so no solution there.

Now, in almost every other global conspiracy/multi-national conglomerate, everyone on the Second Tier of power wanted to be on the First Tier. Not the Host. Oh no, they wanted to get back to their House business and fighting the fucking war. See, being part of the Regency would remove them from danger which ran contrary to their solidarity with their Houses and their Race.

They weren't bloodthirsty, or glory-seekers. Most house had between 300 to 400 combatants, the sisters of these women sitting on the Council. They wanted to get back to organizing their freeholds and leading their women into battle. They were old-fashioned that way. Face it, all the women at the table with me, barring maybe Krasimira, were stone-cold killing machines.

By joining their Houses in the fight, they were trying to save lives - Amazon lives. It was that cruel, vicious Amazon practicality rearing its ugly head once more. Personally I was relieved that I wasn't a possible candidate because I already had a position of authority - Chief Diplomat. Katrina and St. Marie were in the same boat. Krasimira was ineligible due to her Keeper status.

So, the 50 councilwomen had to decide who the 'Unlucky Three' were going to be ... with each house jockeying to make sure they weren't IT. Into this political mine field, it was requested that I enlighten the Council about what I'd been doing with their people. According to Beyoncé, the diplomatic briefing normally took ten minutes.

With me, it was 2 hours with pictures, graphs, historical references and two shadow puppet displays, complimented by squeaky voiced sound effects. Even then, they were getting an abridged version of events and activities. I wrapped things up by mentioning that I had found a member of the Lost House Anahit named Sakuniyas. There was also one other difficulty I hadn't been able to deal with since I got back - House Illuyankamunus had been avoiding me like the plague.

St. Marie and Katrina were of no help. Oh, they clearly knew something was wrong, but they were looking for a way to cushion the blow. Katrina not telling me could be viewed as compassionate. St. Marie, the Golden Mare, didn't like me. Her keeping mum truly sucked.

"Oh, Sabrina Illuyankamunus, I'm giving you fair warning right now," I broke the silence with which my soliloquy was being digested. The Head of that house looked at me, void of all emotion.

"The prospective members of the proposed House SzélAnya are under the protection of House Ishara. Any attack on them would be viewed as an attack on us," I stated firmly. "Is that clear?" And another deafening silence.

"Who is SzélAnya?" Messina of House Minerva asked.

She was serious. She didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I looked to Katrina. She was conveniently rubbing her forehead so I couldn't make eye contact. Next I looked at St. Marie - no reaction.

"Oh come on!" I exclaimed to St. Marie.

"The first words out of my mouth when I walked into your office when I got back was my intent to offer up the children of SzélAnya as a proposed new house, sponsored by House Ishara."

"I know. Now you've done it. Happy?" St. Marie regarded me stoically. "You could have waited until after the Question and Answer part of your presentation." Shit.

"...when I would have done it for you, Cáel," Katrina sighed. "You need someone to second the nomination and it CAN'T be you."

"Well...Damn it!" I groused. "No one tells me these things."

"It is my fault, Cáel Wakko Ishara. Sometimes your exuberance still catches me off-guard," Katrina gave me an out. Krasimira stood up, ready to speak.

"SzélAnya is the daughter of Illuyankamunus," she intoned. Everyone looked from Krasimira to Sabrina, that House's Head.

"I, Sabrina of House Illuyankamunus, nominate SzélAnya and all her daughters for consideration as new members of the Host," she responded.

That was totally unlooked for and unexpected. Hell, it was just plain wrong. I thought House Illuyankamunus were the bad girls.

"Sons and daughters," I absently corrected.

"I second the nomination," Katrina rose and spoke quickly.

"Wait!" Madi jumped up. "Sons? I thought you weren't going to bring other men into the Host, Ishara."

"I didn't intend to...it's complicated. Terribly complicated. There is just...no way to induct House SzélAnya without inducting her sons," I stated.

"She told me so." I hadn't confided in the Council that she had killed Ajax for me. I had refused any credit for his death...so the Host assumed I was merely being my regularly humble self.

"Ishara," the Head of House Jaya - Charlotte's House - addressed me. "I feel we deserve more of an explanation than 'it's complicated'."

"His reasons are just and sound," Illuyankamunus rallied to my defense. Before that, I hadn't spoken ten words to the lady and that was when I asked for her help in Central Europe and she told me to mind my own business.

"Time out," I accentuated with the sports' hand gesture. "Why are you helping me?" I asked her.

"That I cannot answer," she gave me a steady gaze.

"Say what?" I mumbled.

"Why not?" Kohar of Marda inquired of her.

"The Rolls of House Illuyankamunus are sealed," Krasimira stated...which answered no one's questions. Sadly, it was gospel to those women. I would have sat down in frustration had it not required me to stumble back five steps, break another vow I'd made to the Council and sat in Buffy's lap...wait, she was in my 'apprentice' chair, so my seat was unobstructed.

"Keeper of the Records," I addressed Krasimira. Using her title meant I was serious. "Is this more of the Ash Men, 'we are not going to talk about this ever again - happened way back before the invention of outdoor plumbing' bullshit?" Yes, I was insolent and rude. Before the outrage from my fellow Amazons could take shape...

"Yes, Cáel," she smiled at me, "this was a ruling that was handed down shortly after the Second Betrayal as well. I think you know why." She winked. "House Ishara's reasons are valid."

Wait! It got better.

"Cáel Ishara... Cáel, please," Kohar pleaded with me. "Your lips are not sealed by decree. Don't you think we deserve an explanation?"

I'm an idiot. "Of course you do, Kohar. Sleep with me tonight and I'll be puddy in your hands post-coitus," I grinned. Whoa! Serious anger issues boiling forth from Rhada.

"I swear by the Goddess, if we were not in a public venue," Buffy muttered, "I'd beat you." That drew even more looks of 'what the fuck?' I couldn't let that insult stand.

"Hush now," I turned and scolded Buffy while I wagged a finger in her face. "One more outburst like that and I'll make you smile all day tomorrow. I'll even make you adopt a puppy, you cat-lover, you." Total silence.

"I don't know if I'm more insulted by his 'First' talking to him that way," the Head of House Mielikki inquired of Madi, "or his response to her threat?"

"She is a crude, brutish woman; much past his age," Rhada mumbled. That did NOT go unnoticed, as 'them thar's fighting words' in this society. Insinuating someone was an old-timer was a thinly veiled suggestion that they go kill themselves. I had to intervene. Buffy would chop Rhada into Kibble if they fought.

"Madi, I formally request private time with your apprentice to discuss matters of House Ishara etiquette she seems to have misconstrued," I spoke up. I didn't have to be a telepath to know what Buffy was thinking. Hell's Belles, I didn't even need to turn around.

'Let me at her! Let me at her!' was Buffy's silent request. Rhada was pretty eager too.

"Perhaps we have all misconstrued the precise reason your 'First' has threatened you with physical violence," Mielikki butted in.

"In House Ishara, all challenges are merely preludes to sex," I elucidated with great eloquence.

"Lots and lots of sex," I gave her a sultry grin. "Hours of it. Repeated sessions of cunnilingus, showering my mate's body with tiny kisses and, of course, all kinds of massages and caresses, whispered words of praise for her physical perfections and sexual prowess accompanying multiple cries of ecstasy and..."

"Enough Ishara," St. Marie reined me in. Rhada was already squirming in her seat.

"Amen and Hallelujah," Buffy sizzled. Oneida was shooting me Happy Pet-my-Kitty smiles too.

"On the bright side," Beyoncé joked. "I don't think we have to worry about there being enough Ishara heirs."

"Enough," St. Marie reiterated.

"Wait, Golden Mare," Kohar requested. "What happens if one of us chooses to mate with him?"

"Too late for that," Katrina murmured into her hand.

"I think we should let each daughter decide which house she wishes to seek a caste in," Shawnee gave the room a genteel smile. "He should be allowed to keep his sons."

"Cáel, what is your view of this matter?" Kohar looked at me. Yep, she wanted some of me for all kinds of bizarre and highly questionable reasons. I silently vowed to stop using Axe body wash; this sexual tension was getting out of hand.

"How about we move straight along to the Question & Answer phase of my Foreign Policy briefing?" I countered. "Besides, I can't mate with an Amazon for another...thirty two days..." my voice wandered off.