Bad Luck Black Money Read online

  "You almost killed me! You said you didn't want to be away from me for one second!"

  "Yeah," said Noi as she turned off the water and started toweling off her wet body. "I didn't want you calling or texting the wrong person. All my effort could have been flushed down the toilet like shit.

  I work hard for my money, unlike you lazy, fat pig.... Any more questions, darling?"

  "Yes, why don't you go fuck yourself?" said Junior furiously, as he stormed out of the bathroom.

  "Don't worry about me, dog," yelled Noi. "I have better men than you, begging me to kiss my ass. You lose, loser!"

  Junior went to his favorite spot under a palm tree beside the oasis, sat down, and pondered what to do next. He was a prisoner in a gilded cage in a foreign land. Around him stretched desert sands, which seemed to go on forever. Walking through the desert on foot was a death sentence. Staying put, he was at the mercy of his captor, Prince Abdul.

  Reasoning, that if the Prince intended to do him any physical harm, he probably would have done it by now, calmed Junior. Panic wouldn't help his situation. If anything, he needed to play it cool and see where things went. And in hindsight, telling a trained killer to go fuck herself, wasn't the brightest idea, he ever had.

  When Junior entered the bedroom, all traces of Noi were gone. She had left without so much as a goodbye. It was probably for the best.

  Junior was mildly surprised when he noticed Prince Abdul sitting on the sofa in his bedroom. The Prince was looking over some papers pulled from a yellow binder.

  Looking up from his work, Abdul said, "Glad to see you are taking things so well. I half expected you to be weeping and suicidal."

  "No, that's not me. Life has knocked me down before, and I'm sure it will again before it's all over with."

  "Good. And just so you know, Noi was never supposed to physically assault you. It wasn't part of the contract."

  "Water under the bridge, Prince Abdul, water under the bridge.... Can I ask, what happens now?"

  "Certainly," said the Prince putting his papers back in the binder. "Noi is on her way to report back to her handlers. Your father is on his way here to pay your ransom. Then you and your father are free to fly back to America. Everyone gets what they want."

  "But you're rich. I mean really, really rich. Why would you need more money? And I don't see how my father would care if I lived or died. I haven't seen him since I was a kid."

  "Ah, yes, you people are very direct: when? where? and why? No formalities, right down to business.... But there are things that you don't need to know.

  ... Relax, have a beer, watch TV. Your ordeal will be over, soon," stated Prince Abdul on his way out.

  Chapter 43

  Svetlana had the boundless energy of an insatiable, sex maniac. She kept going and going. It was as if her brain were hardwired to crave constant sexual arousal. If it wasn't for Boss's improved health resulting from his special diet, he would have, literally, been ridden to death.

  Halfway through the flight, the pleasure Boss was receiving from the Russian minx turned into pain. The male appendage was only designed to take so much stimulation, and Svetlana wasn't taking 'stop, that hurts' for an answer. She pushed Boss past his limitations into realms he hadn't previously known existed.

  It felt like sorcery, but it had to be science. The way Svetlana manipulated his body to keep him aroused for her amusement. Yet, there is a price to be paid for overindulgence, and by the time they landed in Dahab, Boss could barely walk.

  Clutching both hands to his genital region like an award winning rapper, Boss gingerly exited the plane with Svetlana assisting him. Every step sent weird, electrical sensations from his toes up to his pelvis. His discomfort was so noticeable that Prince Nalaheb asked if he had hurt his back, somehow.

  "No, I'm fine," responded Boss. "Just let me rest a moment."

  "You will be more comfortable in the Tahoe," said Nalaheb. "It rides through the desert sands, smooth like duck across pond."

  "How far are we riding?" asked Boss, getting into one of the black, Chevy Tahoes lined up beside the jet.

  "Four hours, max," stated Prince Nalaheb.

  "Shit," mumbled Boss under his breath, as Svetlana slid in beside of him on the leather, bench seat. The chauffer closed the door behind them. Once again, Boss was alone with the giant, Russian woman.

  "Look," Boss said in an authoritative tone. "If you mess with my dick anymore, it's going to rupture. And then you're going to be in big trouble. They stone women in this country. You know?"

  "Easy, sweet pie," Svetlana said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you.

  Yes, you enjoyed making the love with me. How could you not? But... you are correct. No more sexy time," she made an over exaggerated sad face. "I so sad. You sad, too, yes?"

  "Whatever," said Boss, starting to relax for the first time since leaving Pluto Moon Technologies. He rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes.

  "What you doing?" asked Svetlana.

  "Resting."

  "Open mouth. I look down throat," ordered Svetlana.

  Boss complied and partially opened his eyes to see what she was up to.

  "Go like this." Svetlana opened her own mouth and stuck her tongue out. Boss copied her. She almost touched her tongue to her nose. Boss did the same. She wiggled her tongue up and down then side-to-side. Boss mimicked her.

  "Good, your tongue works just fine, yes?" asked Svetlana.

  "... Oh, son-of-a-bitch!" snapped Boss, when it hit him why she was so interested in his tongue. "No way am I going to do that for four hours. It's over with. Now, you just behave yourself."

  Svetlana laid down on the seat with one leg on the floor and the other behind Boss's head. Hiking her short, white skirt up above her bellybutton, she pointed at her vagina and went, "Beep... beep... beep..."

  There wasn't any choice. Boss had to keep the beautiful Russian happy, or she would snitch about the hidden transmitter in the D2NS to the Prince. Boss dropped his knees to the floorboard and his head between Svetlana's thighs.

  The pain in his crotch and Svetlana’s exacting demands ruined what should have been a pleasant experience. She wanted his tongue working like a vibrator set on its highest speed. She discouraged slacking off by thumping hard on his sore testicles with her freakishly strong, long fingers.

  The promised four-hour trip took over five, five of the longest hours of Boss's life. When their SUV finally stopped in front of the mansion in the middle of the desert, Boss had shooting pains in his jaw and tongue to match those in his groin.

  As Svetlana helped him out of the Chevy Tahoe, it took all his willpower not to make a break for the D2NS, eject the dual .45s, and kill every last motherfucker he saw. But thanks to his nurse's enthusiasm for rough sex, Boss wasn't in any condition for such exertion at that moment. Besides, he still didn't know if King Jaheal had played any role in his kidnapping.

  Before entering Prince Nalaheb's abode, Boss took mental note of the thickness of the walls and construction of the front door, which could double as a door to a bank vault. The place was more of a fortress than a regular mansion. Whoever controlled that door, controlled the whole building.

  Prince Abdul was waiting inside, and greeted his brother with a hug and a kiss to both cheeks, as was custom. He then did the same to Boss.

  "Mr. Boss!" exclaimed Abdul. "It is so good to meet you after hearing so much about you. I trust your trip went well... under the circumstances."

  After licking his lips and trying to get some feeling, back into his jaw, Boss said, "You have me at a disadvantage. Who, may I ask, are you?"

  "How rude of me. I am Prince Abdul Naheer, son of King Jaheal Naheer."

  "I am a friend of King Naheer.... Does he know that you've kidnapped me, and stolen from my company?"

  "Whoa, I think you have been misinformed. Please, come with me, and we'll straighten this whole thing out," said Prince Abdul, who then turned to his brother and spoke in Arabic. "Nalaheb, have
the device brought to my study. I will try to calm our captive. You stay out of sight until I say so."

  "Yes, my brother," replied Prince Nalaheb, who busied himself by telling his entourage where to go and what to do. Svetlana managed to lose herself amongst the bustling throng.

  Prince Abdul and Boss walked slowly toward the rear of the building. The Prince pointed out artworks and features that might interest his reluctant guest. Boss was legitimately impressed with the building's architecture. It begged the questions of 'how was it built' and 'by whom'.

  They entered a room, which was a cross between a library and a traditional Arabic lounging area. Colorful curtains hung from the ceiling for no apparent reason other than for decoration. And instead of western chairs, the room had massive pillows upon which to sit.

  Boss collapsed on top of a giant, purple pillow, spread his legs wide apart, and rested. If he could get an hours worth of rest, he was fairly certain that he could kill everyone in the place with the twin .45s in the Day-2-Night Scrambler, which had been fortuitously rolled into the same room he was in, right beside the door.

  "Would you like to see your son, now?" asked Prince Abdul.

  "Whatever," said Boss.

  "... OK, then," responded Abdul, backing out of the room.

  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 being
s 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?"