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  "Idiot!" Prince Nalaheb scolded the big manservant. "It goes in the back with us."

  "Yes, Prince Nalaheb," said the large chauffeur. "I humbly apologize."

  Chapter 40

  While on their way to a private landing strip, Prince Nalaheb wanted to learn more about the machine, which he'd broken countless U.S. laws to acquire. Boss explained that what made the Day-2-Night Scrambler so valuable was its ability to foil all attempts at interception of communications. The D2NS could send a message anywhere in the world and neither the NSA nor any of its flunky agencies had the ability to trace its origins. Basically, it greatly reduced the threat of dying in drone strikes.

  The gold limousine pulled up beside a customized Boeing 747 with Arabic lettering on it. Prince Nalaheb and Boss entered the plane with the chauffeur gently carrying the heavy D2NS behind them. The interior of the airplane was fit for a king, since it belonged to Prince Nalaheb's father, who was a king. Boss was thinking how garish and ostentatious everything looked when he spotted a tall, blonde goddess in an old-timey, short, nurse's uniform.

  "This is Svetlana. You will be in her care for the duration of your stay with us. Don't be worried; she is clean. She hasn't lain with a man in over two years. Please, go with her to your cabin in the rear of the plane."

  Boss had to make a swift decision. The D2NS was being secured with nylon straps to a chair, which was bolted to the fuselage. He could run over to it, press three buttons simultaneously and out would spring two, .45 caliber, semi-automatic pistols with extended clips.

  He thought that it would be great sport to shoot everyone on the plane in the head. (He'd been practicing his shooting to impress Karen and had become an excellent marksman.) But then again... Svetlana was hotter than hell on a Sunday morning. And he did want to find out if King Jaheal had a hand in any part of this. So, he followed the gorgeous nurse to the back of the plane, which was decked out like a flying, furnished apartment.

  "Take off your clothes, please," ordered Svetlana.

  "Say again?" Boss said, who couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

  "Your clothes, take them all off."

  "And why should I do that?"

  "Because we cannot leave runway, until I've done thorough examination of your person for tracking devices."

  The thought of getting naked in front of the beautiful Russian was not an unpleasant one. But Boss wasn't used to taking orders. It rubbed him the wrong way.

  Then Boss asked, "What if I refuse?"

  "Then I'll make you," Svetlana stated. She moved close to Boss, almost touched her nose to his and said, "I was in Spetsnaz, Russian Special Forces. I am bigger than you. I can beat you, easy. You want fight?"

  "... No, that won't be necessary," responded Boss. He noticed for the first time that Svetlana was almost four inches taller than him and had the ripped body of a workout fanatic. A vision of mounting the giant, Russian Amazon sent a tingling sensation running down his leg.

  "Are you shy?" Svetlana asked, as she took the initiative and began unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

  "Not really."

  "We'll have more fun if you are shy.... I will ask again.... Are you shy?"

  "... Yes, I'm terribly shy."

  "Then Svetlana will be extra gentle, sweet pie," she said. Slowly she worked her fingers over every inch of his exposed chest, occasionally, kissing and nipping at his skin.

  When thoughts of Esmerelda entered his mind, Boss had to suppress feelings of guilt. He rationalized that it wasn't really like he was cheating behind her back. Although he was enjoying Svetlana's attentions, technically, he was being raped. Everybody knew that rape wasn't sex; it's violence. While his logic was self-serving, it eased his conscious enough to feel thrills when Svetlana twisted his nipples.

  The Russian nurse took off Boss's shoes and socks and mused, "Is it not more better to have beautiful woman doing this to you than gay, airport security, homosexual?"

  "I've never been subjected to airport screenings. That's for the cattle. They need to be kept in their place, and the strong hand of the T.S.A. reminds them of how pathetic and helpless they are.... I'm not one of the herd; I'm a man."

  Svetlana took her time unbuckling Boss's belt and taking down his slacks. She casually let her hand brush against his new, improved manhood inside his shorts and said, "And what a man you are. Or maybe, you are demigod?"

  "Drop the 'demi' and you'd be correct."

  "I have never had a god inside of me before. You make demigod baby with me, yes?" asked Svetlana as she yanked his boxers to the floor.

  He wanted to say something clever and pretend it wasn't any big deal to be standing buck-naked in front of the exquisitely beautiful Svetlana. But words refused to come into his mind or out of his mouth. Boss stood still as blood rushed to his cheeks and penis.

  "Oh, ha ha, you really are shy," teased Svetlana as she dropped to her knees and began feeling his left calf muscle, slowly working her way up his leg.

  "It is sweet that you embarrass so easy," Svetlana said, while massaging his lower thigh and creeping, ever so slowly, higher. "Do you know what this is called?"

  Boss cleared his throat and responded, "I don't know. Intense massage?"

  "No, silly. It is called CFNM, covered female nude male. I see on Internet. Men like this, yes?"

  "Ummm... I... uh," Boss managed to mumble, before Svetlana grabbed him by the testicles. Then he had to concentrate on breathing and controlling the volume of his involuntary groans and grunts. Somehow, he managed not to accidentally splouge like a fourteen-year-old, virgin boy feeling a breast for the first time.

  "That was not so bad, yes?" asked Svetlana.

  "It was definitely an experience that I'll never forget," said Boss reaching for his underwear lying on the carpeted floor.

  "Nyet!" snapped Svetlana, as she stomped down on Boss's boxers with one of her white, high-heeled shoes.

  Boss stood up straight and looked at the nurse's face, which had a devious smile upon it.

  "You think my examination over?" Svetlana asked. "Shame on you. We have not yet searched your hiney."

  "Whoa!" exclaimed Boss. "I'm kind of freaky, but not butt-stuff freaky. You need to back off, now."

  "Shhhh," whispered Svetlana with one of her long fingers pressed against her bright red lips. "Let me tell you a secret."

  Svetlana pressed her hard body, hard against Boss's nakedness. She rested her head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "If you do not stop being bad, little boy then I tell camel jockeys about your box. I bet it sends signal to satellite. They will be much angry, yes? Now, bend over side of bed and spread legs wide apart. We have more fun now, yes?"

  There wasn't any way out. His hornyness had gotten him into this predicament. And now, a Russian Amazon was about to go wrist deep up his poop shoot. Still, all in all, it was better than breaking rocks underneath a hot, summer sun.

  "You are butt virgin?" Svetlana asked, as she pulled a pair of latex gloves from a drawer.

  "Not exactly," answered Boss, who was trying hard to act cool and not spaz out.

  "Not... exactly..." repeated Svetlana, while pulling up a glove, which snapped tightly against her wrist when she let go of it. "What means, 'not exactly'? Your wife, she put fingers up there?"

  "No."

  "Only when doctor feels your prostate, yes?"

  "... Yes."

  "I see," Svetlana said as the other glove tightened around her hand. "Then you never had prostate massage, nyet?"

  "Nyet," answered Boss, watching as his nurse picked up a jar of lubricant and then pulled a condom from a box. "What, what is the condom for?"

  "You do not listen very good. Do you, sweet pie?" said Svetlana, as she leaned over the other side of the bed to look Boss in the face. "You will give me, baby. Maybe, I am not ovulating today. You will fill condom. I put in medical cooler for later, just in case, yes?

  Since you are butt virgin, I explain it to you. During prostate massage, the man,
he ejaculates. No shame, all men have to. It is inevitable, like volcano erupting.

  ... You are ready, yes?"

  There was nothing he could say, so he said nothing. Boss felt like a wild-eyed dog on a veterinarian’s, stainless steel, examination table.

  He remembered a quote from Onassis: "If you're going to get raped, you might as well enjoy it."

  Chapter 41

  Major Elliot was seated in the cockpit of a modified Boeing 787 Dreamliner. His men were all geared up in the back of the plane and ready for action. They were shadowing a Boeing 747, which belonged to King Jaheal Naheer. Behind them, flew a Lockheed C-5 Galaxy cargo plane loaded with two stealth drones, one helicopter drone, and enough firepower to level a major city.

  A listening device inside the Day-2-Night Scrambler confirmed the terrorists were flying to the Naheer Kingdom. Elliot rubbed his forehead to alleviate the throbbing in his brain. The whole situation had gone FUBAR (fucked up beyond all repair).

  If they attempted to enter Naheer Kingdom airspace without permission, antiaircraft missile batteries or fighter jets would certainly shoot them down. If they went through proper channels then they'd be surrounded on touchdown by tanks and hundreds of government troops. There was only one course of action left to take, and it wasn't a good one.

  "Big Diesel, this is Fox Leader," Major Elliot said over a secure radio channel. "Do you read me? Over."

  "Fox Leader, Big Diesel here. We read you loud and clear, over," answered the pilot of the massive cargo plane.

  "We're breaking off from the Golden Goose. New destination is Tazirbu airport, Libya, over."

  "... Ten-four, Fox Leader. Lead the way, we'll follow, over."

  "Roger that, over and out," Elliot said, as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. He noticed the pilot giving him the stink-eye and asked, "You got a problem, Logan?"

  "No, sir.... It's just, isn't Libya a war zone? Do you even know if the airport is under government or rebel control?"

  "Doesn't matter. Neither side has the weaponry to knock us out of the sky. We'll land, secure the airport, and clear all the runways. Which will allow Big Diesel to use the entire tarmac to land safely.

  Would you happen to have a better plan in mind?"

  "No, sir.... But what you're about to do is, technically, an act of war."

  "No shit, Sherlock," Major Elliot said, before heading to the rear of the plane to brief his men on their new mission.

  The Boeing Dreamliner touched down in Tazirbu and taxied toward the control tower. Boss's security force hit the ground running. They had the entire airport complex secured within thirty minutes of touchdown. And they did it all without firing a single shot.

  It took twenty more minutes to clear burned out vehicles and other debris from a runway, which was wide and long enough to accommodate their Galaxy C-5 cargo plane. Elliot was amazed at how smoothly his hastily conceived plan was progressing. His team was greeted as liberators instead of conquerors.

  All that the native people wanted was money. Their loyalty to the government or the rebellion melted away when a few twenty-dollar bills were placed in their hungry hands. Word of the strangers handing out cash, spread faster than a New Mexico wildfire and soon Elliot's team was inundated with smiling, cooperative faces wanting to help. They all expected to be paid, of course.

  Within another hour, a fleet of dirt bikes and dune buggies amassed on the desert dunes by the airport. An American was paying big money for locals to drive his men into the Naheer Kingdom. If they were captured on Naheer land, it meant instant death by beheading. But for a few hundred dollars, every Libyan was willing to risk it.

  Major Elliot had commandeered the airport's control tower to use as a makeshift headquarters. Through binoculars he watched as the hoard of ragtag vehicles headed for the Naheer Kingdom's border, stirring up a mini dust storm in its wake. The scene looked like something out of a post apocalyptic movie.

  He wanted to be in the lead dune buggy, racing toward the gates of hell. But sometimes, leaders had to stay behind, strategize, and coordinate. It pained him to be away from his men, but Elliot knew he had put a good soldier in charge of the strike force, Sergeant Leon Hernandez.

  Several hours would have to pass before his men would be in a position to rescue Boss. In two hours, he would order the drones into the sky. The ground troops would be nearing the Naheer Kingdom border by that time. But for the time being, the Major sat down, put his feet up, and relaxed.

  A few of his men had stayed behind to keep the airport secure. He'd paid the natives to set up a five-mile perimeter around the airport. Nobody was getting in or out, without his express written permission.

  Major Elliot felt the half-empty, canvass bag beside his chair. At the start of the mission, it was full of cash. But what did it really matter? His employer spent more money than that on caviar. And if need be, he could have a truckload of money flown over.

  The thought crossed his mind that it might be possible to buy the whole country. All that these people seemed to want was money. Well... money and a full stomach and a boss to tell them what to do, just like everybody else in the world.

  The Major made a mental note to mention his idea to Boss after the rescue. If he played his cards just right, he might end up as a puppet dictator. Elliot thought that becoming a dictator would be cool as hell.

  Chapter 42

  Junior walked the floor, while Noi lay on their bed, dressed in pink pajamas, eating potato chips and watching satellite television. Something was wrong. Something had changed. Noi had changed.

  It was like a switch had flipped in her brain. The woman, who was once so full of life that it radiated into everyone around her, had become dull and sluggish. She didn't seem to care what Junior was doing or where he was. Strange behavior, considering she came close to killing him for straying from her sight less than a year prior.

  Pretending to look out the window, Junior studied Noi's reflection on the glass. She had gained, at least, fifteen pounds since they arrived at the mansion by the oasis in this forsaken desert. Even with her beer-belly bump, she still looked as sexy as any lingerie model.

  Her sex drive had all but evaporated. She always seemed to have a headache or another excuse to keep Junior out of her honey pot. And on the rare occasions when Noi allowed Junior to get on top of her, the sex was plain, ordinary missionary with Noi counting down the seconds until it was over with.

  "When is Nok getting here?" wondered Junior to himself. "Maybe Noi's sister could bring her out of this funk. Or, at least, get her to brush her teeth and bathe on a regular basis."

  Junior was about to wander around outside in the oasis area when the only phone in the room rang. Noi's slothfulness instantly turned into dynamic motion as she jumped out of the bed in one smooth motion and raced to the phone. Junior decided to stick around and try to glean some useful information by eavesdropping.

  Noi said, "Hello.... Yes.... I see.... Very good." Then she hung up the phone.

  "Good news, I hope," said Junior.

  "It's the very best news possible. Nok is on her way! She will be arriving in Prince Abdul's entourage."

  "Marvelous, I can't wait to meet her."

  Noi walked back to the bed and motioned for Junior to join her. He ran to the bed.

  "I have not been treating you very nice, Junior. I want to apologize."

  "You don't need to apologize. I know this waiting has been rough on you."

  "Yes, it has. And now I want to make it up to you."

  "Oh, really?" Junior asked as Noi pulled him close to her and kissed him deeply.

  Junior was ecstatic that the old Noi was back. However, her breath smelt like rotting road kill and tasted like death, itself. But he was determined not to ruin the first good mood she'd been in, in what seemed like ages. Junior decided to power through it, besides his excitement was overriding his repulsion.

  For a moment, he thought his wife was deliberately trying to gross him out, when she tried to
smother him under her armpits. But then again, Noi was always an inventive lover and the lack of oxygen only made their lovemaking hotter. Unfortunately for Junior, foul armpit odor smelled like the sweetest flower compared to other scents he got to inhale during that sex session.

  Noi was playful and energetic during their lovemaking. If only she hadn't smelled like a sweaty skunk in a blender, it would have been perfect. Several times, Junior made heaving sounds and came close to vomiting, but he didn't.

  After it was over, Noi ordered Junior to take a shower. He was more than happy to comply, but it seemed to him that she needed a bath more than he did.... However, it was great to see Noi in high spirits again.

  In the middle of his shower, Junior heard Noi talking to a man. He quickly washed the soap out of his eyes and got out of the shower stall. Throwing on a robe, he rushed out into the bedroom to find Noi standing next to Prince Abdul.

  "Greetings, Junior," said Prince Abdul.

  "Hello.... Uh, where's Nok?" asked Junior.

  "Shall you tell him or should I?" Abdul asked Noi.

  "Let me. I've been wanting to do this for so long."

  "Very well. Until later then," said Abdul, and he left.

  "Follow me," ordered Noi, as she headed to the bathroom.

  "What's going on?"

  "All things in due time," answered Noi, shedding her clothes and getting in the shower.

  "Where's Nok?" asked Junior, who was thrilled that Noi had finally decided to wash the stink off herself.

  "There is no Nok. I have two brothers and three sisters, none of who are named Nok."

  "What?"

  "I am a spy. I work for the highest bidder. Prince Abdul paid me to bring you here, Milton Van Hopenhammer Jr. He wanted you to come willingly. If he had wanted you chopped into tiny pieces, I would have done that, too. Lucky for you, aye?"

  "But, but you love me."

  "Oh, sure. I love the man, who fucked all those sluts right in front of me. I love a man, who paws at my breast while he is inside another woman. Oh, how much I love you.... Stupid."