*This story plays fast and loose with Ancient History and Linguistics; be warned*

*Since the Mycenaean Greeks still keep whining like little bitches, I have eased up on them for the nonce in order to give the Magyar mythology a credible mangling*

(A few hours later on the plane ride back)

"Luv, don't you have any male friends?" Delilah teased me.

"Hey now," I protested tiredly, "You don't go to a Jaguar dealership and expect to drive out in a Hyundai."

"Is Virginia going to be okay?" Delilah inquired out of the blue. "You know this Javiera better than the rest of us."

In what was yet another bizarre twist, Rachel, Mona and Delilah had hugged Virginia good-bye with some emotion. Virginia and Delilah had attached themselves to Tiger Lily when the fighting broke out and stuck with her throughout the battle, firing at and being fired on by the Seven Pillars infiltrators. To the Amazons, the fight was not their guests', but they had volunteered to help anyway.

Pamela had a quick conversation with Priya. She'd agreed to keep an eye out on behalf of our FBI agent so that no jumpy Amazon mistook her for an enemy when the Americans arrived. I had a terse good-bye with Caprica – this was her disaster to deal with, victory or not.

While my horniness had alerted her command when her pickets had failed, and while my mad dash for the bridge had been pivotal in turning the Seven Pillars surprise attack into their catastrophe, I was claiming credit for none of that. I blamed the spare phone at the guard post for Caprica's success. Miyako and I had been rescued by Shammy. Without Shammy, I would have died in a futile effort.

My humility vexed Caprica...it was so non-male in her eyes. She also 'gave back' Shammuramat to me. The Assyrian Queen was far more comfortable fighting the war than fighting for the peace.

As I hugged Virginia goodbye one last time, I asked her to hurry back to New York. I had no desire to explain this insanity to someone new. She came back with a nod, her emotions stifled by her official responsibility.

"Yes, she'll be fine," I reassured Delilah. "The very presence of Priya will calm the other Amazons. Caprica is far more 'open' than we could have hoped for. She is going to make an effort to work with Virginia. At least, as long as the Federal government doesn't criminalize the situation and lets the members of the Host go."

"What happens if they keep the Amazons and the children?" Delilah felt compelled to ask.

"It would make Murrah Building in Oklahoma City look like water damage in your beachfront shack," Pamela shook her head. "There are roughly 8,000 Amazons in North America and they won't differentiate between armed and unarmed government employees and their families."

"At what cost? You are already at war against two other forces," Delilah pointed out.

"At best, Amazons view themselves to be in a wary cease-fire with the rest of the World. The raw numbers of our enemy is rarely an issue. During the days of my active service, there were contingency plans for such an occurrence. We will move around in small groups. Amazons will rearm by overrunning rural law enforcement centers and recuperate in Canada and Mexico."

"With stockpiles of heavy weapons, we attack refineries, power stations, petrochemical storage facilities, railroad bridges and mine major waterways," Pamela continued. "We avoid major urban centers and military installations where you can react quickly and with great force. Instead, we eliminate Sheriff's departments and Highway Patrols out in the countryside.

Either the government lets us strangle their supply and energy infrastructure, or they come out after us. Out in rough terrain, in small patrols, we start picking you off. Once you are committed to the countryside, we double back and attack your air bases, destroying your warplanes and helicopters on the ground where they are vulnerable.

After six to eight months of this, the Host withdraws from the United States. We wait four or five years then attack again. We never ask for our children back, or the return of our imprisoned Amazons. No, we kill you, cut you and strike terror in your hearts until you cast them away like the toxins you have turned them into. That doesn't stop us.

We'll keep attacking until the Council is satisfied – preferably when your government collapses. A military coup will do, as will a civil war," Pamela grinned.

"Do you think the US government appreciates that?" Delilah worried.

"I'm sure that Katrina gave Javiera all three options," I spoke.

"They can help us and we will repay that debt with interest. They can help us and then betray us, at which point the scenario Pamela layed out goes into effect. Or they can sit back and do nothing. I'm not terribly worried. We know Javiera does not have the authority to control the commanders now involved. We also have faith she wouldn't unleash forces that would fuck us over either.

She'd rather refuse our request than risk pissing us off."

"As a male, do you really think they see you as one of them?" Miyako whispered from overhead. She'd taken the seat behind me on our private jet. I thought about the ledge of the Havenstone Commercial Investments building.

"I don't care," I reached up and stroked her hair and left ear.

"It is not my place to demand respect, or understanding," I related. "They WILL respect Ishara. Me having testicles is not an acceptable excuse, in my book, for failing to do so."

"If they don't?" her delicate fingers played with the top of my head.

"I will deal with the situation when it arises..." I huffed.

"...arises again," Pamela corrected me.

"I have no master plan, or set contingency. Knowing that most opponents will be tougher than me allows me to benefit from their underestimation. That outweighs what I suffer from me exaggerating their capabilities. See, I know I will fight no matter what, so it falls to me to fail or succeed."

"That barely made any sense whatsoever," Delilah snorted.

"It did to me," Aya piped up. "No sane person picks a fight with someone they can't beat. So, if they pick a fight with Cáel, they've already made one serious miscalculation."

"What would that be?" Shammy looked our way.

"That Cáel will ever give up – that he will ever admit defeat," Aya's intrepid gaze went her way.

"Dying is its own fatal confession," Shammuramat sneered.

"That is where you are wrong, Salmu Eretu..." Aya started to reply.

"Not even your youth forgives you for using that name. Call me..." Shammy said, dripping scorn.

No name came forth.

"Sērkuēn?" I suggested. Shammy's furor lanced through me. "You gave that name up when you turned away from House Anat and justice." In the Amazon tongue it meant 'She who kills'. How prophetic.

"You will address me as Shammuramat," she grew positively thunderous.

"Shammuramat is dead. If we keep this up, I'm going to start calling you Shammy to your face and we both know I'll do that one too many times. Then you'll kill me and all of this was for naught," I put my own spin on fortune-telling.

"You've got that right," she sizzled.

"Fine, we shall call you... Sakuniyas," I suggested. Once more we were on the cusp of violence and once more, I had cut Shammy off at the knees and trundled her rage off to its poorly-locked cage. I swear, I could despoil a nunnery.

"Spring?" Rachel looked my way. Sakuniyas was the feminine version of the spring season. It signaled rebirth, a fresh start and shedding of the dour cloak of winter, aka Death. Know your chicks, figure out their desires and pander to them. There was the minor complication that she wanted to consummate her relationship with my Grandfather, not me, but I liked a challenge.

"Is that an acceptable compromise?" I asked, while already knowing the answer.

"Finding you useful brings me no pleasure," Shammy/Sakuniyas grumbled.

"Does it suffice?" I prodded.

"Yes...yes, damn you," the angry tone failed to reach her eyes.

"I will let people call me Sakuniyas and answer to it when it suits me. Saku in case of battle, or other necessity," was her minimalist concession.

"I'm glad that's settled," I stood up. "Speaking of necessity – Miyako," I grabbed her left upper arm in a rough, manly fashion. "I'm going to ride you like the Pony Express."

"I have no idea what that means, but I think I like it," she beamed sexual kitten joy up at me. I am so truly, deeply and pathetically in need of professional psychiatric help.

"You know," Miyako snickered as I 'dragged' her to the restroom, "if we ever get buried in a coffin together, we'll already know how to make love." The space wasn't...actually, it was exceedingly cramped for dual occupancy. I can definitely recommend that every would-be Lothario have their own personal closet ninja. They are exquisite.

Sex with Miyako was snuggly warm (emotionally), tight (still) and close quarters. Miyako had trained thoroughly in the study of body movements and posture. She could determine what a person was thinking by observing body language to the point that eye contact had become superfluous.

She had joked about the cramped confines of our sexually secluded spot yet it was this level of contact she found herself craving. In our post-coitus afterglow, she had her arms draped over my shoulders and her calves linked behind the small of my back. Her right cheek rested on my right shoulder while she made endearing, playful puffs on my bicep.

"I will resent giving you over to Jovanović," she purred.

"Who?" I retaliated by lifting her up so I could plant kisses on her jugular.

"Selena," Miyako inhaled deeply then exhaled with sensuous joy.

"I'm not happy with you leaving, much less with someone thinking you can be replaced," I grumbled.

"Is this why all those women get angry with you when they find out you are not theirs alone?" she giggled.

"I think my dishonesty was a key factor," I confessed.

"No, I mean that you make us feel so good before, during and after sex that the idea that you could have been giving us even more of your time...it makes us jealous," Miyako murmured.

I wasn't going to argue the point that I knew way more about women and romance than she did.

Knock, knock, knock...

"Hey, Mr. Dishonest," Tiger Lily teased me through the door. "Some of us really have to go."

"We are getting dressed," I groused.

We did, Miyako looked exceptionally pleased and floated back to her seat. Charlotte had taken a middle seat so she could keep watch over both the cockpit and the rear of the plane. Rachel, Mona and Delilah had fallen asleep despite Miyako's and my voracious racket a few minutes earlier.

Saku (the genocidal maniac formerly known as Shammuramat) had pulled her armor out of storage and was getting ready to clean that and her hand weapons. She had the rapt attention of Aya and her Squirts, until my arrival brought Aya my way.

"Did you have good 'Daddy Time'," Aya smiled at Miyako.

"I had Great Daddy time," Miyako brushed some hair off Aya's shoulder.

"She's pregnant," Saku informed the plane. The look she gave me was a whole new expression for me to categorize...as I imagined the sublime horror etched on my face was new as well. First, Saku's expression – it was the 'how dare you fuck that woman to multiple orgasms with my boyfriend's body'.

Yep, I was pretty sure that was a new one.

For my part, well the 'practical me' knew I was trying to make little Isharans. But to the Man-Dog-Pig in me, the one who always insisted on wearing condoms, fatherhood meant...THE END!

I wasn't opposed to abortion. If she wanted one, I would back her up. If she didn't want to abort the pregnancy...well, time to 'Man-Up' and do the right thing. I absolutely knew it would end up in divorce, on grounds of my infidelity; but I'd try, damn it. I would do the best I could with my anemic, highly limited morality and unhealthy as well as unnatural sex drive. I would never miss a child support payment, or a minute of my visitation time.

Abortion, divorce and child support weren't going to be the issues of this union. I wanted to mock Saku's words, belittle her understanding of events and insinuate she was a cave-dwelling blockhead. The little excited squeeze that Miyako gave my hand trash-canned all of that.

"How do you know?" I tried to keep my panic from turning my calm voice into a squeak.

"I gave birth to three sons and two daughters," Saku studied me. "A mother knows these things." That, I didn't believe. Before I could take a deep, somewhat hurtful-to-Miyako, sigh of relief, she continued..."Also, having spent so much time among the dead, I am familiar with the sensation a fresh soul resonates with." I was Ahab, strapped to the Great White Whale.

I put my best 'Oh Yay, we are going to have a Baby!' face on. I would have rather chewed splinters at that moment than hurt Miyako's feelings. I had become a sap as well as a cad. How the hell did that happen?

"Will our child be a girl...or a boy?" Miyako became very respectful and demure.

Shammuramat studied Miyako for ten seconds then did the same to me.

"Daughter," she announced. What happened next caught us all flat-footed.

"We will name her Fushichou – Phoenix, after you, Sakuniyas," Miyako bowed to the Saku.

None of us were sure how Saku would take that. She had no immediate comeback either.

Eventually she gave a curt nod, then went back to her armor. Aya hugged Miyako, pressing her right ear against Miyako's belly – her very flat belly.

"What will her name be in our tongue?" Aya's precious eyes sought out an answer in mine. "Suwais-urāni," I wracked my mind for the proper word usage.

"Technically that means 'Bird that burns to ash' since there is no Phoenix in the Old Kingdom Hittite mythology. Neither flame – 'tāru', or fire – 'agnish' – convey the proper mystical meaning.

"Did you just name your first kid Su?" Pamela snorted while feigning sleep.

"It is 'A Boy named Sue', you 'Ghost rider in the Sky'," I grinned. Pamela opened up one eye. A smile blossomed slowly from her lips as she stood up.

"Yippie yi Ohhhhh," she said as I hugged her.

"Yippie yi Yaaaaay," I replied.

She wrapped up Aya and Miyako in a truly dysfunctional family moment.

"How did you end up knowing Johnny Cash?" Pamela regarded me proudly.

"Dad loved the man and his music. He wasn't a cowboy, but he was a lineman and that's some hard, lonely work," I explained.

"Cáel," Miyako tilted her head up and beamed me a serious dose of happiness. "Is this a happy moment?"

"It sure is," I grinned back.

"Can Mommy be next?" Aya hounded me relentlessly. I thumped her head.

"Ow," Aya pouted. "Should I take that to be a 'maybe'?"

"Why don't you go help Saku," I rechanneled her boundless energy. "Back in the day, every noble was attended to by squires who took care of their gear and served that noble as body servants. In turn, she taught them the art of war." Sakuniyas shot me a nasty look.

Aya poked her head between Pamela and Miyako.

"That sounds like fun," she met Saku's glacial chill with a warm spring breeze.

"I don't want their help," she grumbled.

"It sounds like free labor," Pamela smirked.

"I said I don't want their help," Saku snarled.

"Okay," I rolled my eyes. "Aya – Fatal Squirts – attention!" They all looked at me. "I command you, as your Celestial Potentate Poobah, to stare at Sakuniyas until she gives you a task of a personal – to her – nature to do. Get at it."

Four sets of precocious, will-eroding cuteness assaulted the Assyrian Queen, victor of a hundred battles and skirmishes.

"You are despicable," was Saku's chosen acidic barb.

"I second that motion," Pamela patted me on the back. "I keep finding myself being prouder and prouder of you, every day. Stop it," she teased me.

None of those words dampened my mood, or my plan.

"How much longer is this flight going to take?" Saku groused.

"Four hours," I lied. It was way closer to two.

To my way of thinking, it wasn't like she could get much angrier with me after she discovered my ruse. (I was wrong. She could and did. I'm an idiot.) Saku shook her head...and the task-mastering began. An hour and forty-five minutes later, the pilot alerted us that we were ten minutes from our final approach. Bits and pieces of her armor were all over the front seats and the floor of the exit-way space.

Diligent little fingers were still polishing and checking straps for signs of excessive wear or fabric fatigue. Their 'noble' hovered over them, pointing out the right way to do things and what they were doing wrong. Her congratulating them for doing a good job was rather non-Amazon of her, but the kids ate it up.

With the ten minute warning still hanging in the air, my duplicity inspired Saku to finally flip out. I was pretty sure she didn't think through what she was doing. She simply drew her 22cm/9in blade and threw it at my face. Miyako caught it between her hands...an effortless clap...fuck.

"Four hours!" Saku howled at me. "You said we had four hours...I could have held them off for two!"

"Why do you think I lied to you?" I kept my amusement out of my tone because I was rather attached to the idea of my wagging tongue not being cut out of my mouth.

It wasn't lost on us that every member of my SD team was alert and had blades drawn (firefights on planes in mid-flight is severely frowned upon) and were staring at her. I wanted to tell Rachel to 'stand down', except that would be unfair. I wasn't 100% sure Saku was done being furious with me.

Telling Rachel to set aside her instincts was something I tried to keep a minimum, only to be used when it I was forced to take in the bigger picture.

"What is going on here?" Rachel asked with professional calm. So, I told her the truth...the real truth.

"Oh," Rachel grunted. She gave a motion for her team to rest easy then came my way.

"Knife," she held out a hand to Miyako who instantly gave it over, pommel first. Rachel deftly flipped it over so she was holding the razor sharp blade then smacked me on the top of my head – hard.

"Ow..." I whined. "That hurt."

"It was supposed to," Rachel glared. She walked down the aisle to Saku, returning her blade.

"Did you just smack him in the head?" Saku was trying to make sense of what she'd seen.

"Yes," Rachel nodded.

"He screwed up and I impressed upon him to not do it again. As you might guess, this is a fairly regular occurrence with him. We all take wicked-fine pleasure in that part of his education."

"But you are his bodyguards ... is he really the Head of House Ishara, or was that a lie as well?" Saku was still confused by her prideful arrogance and how I was misplacing my own.

"Sakuniyas, Cáel was not raised in our culture. He has only been a member of the Host for a few weeks. This is not to belittle his impressive education," Pamela intervened. "Both he, and those of the House who know him, agree that the occasional physical chastisement works better than words alone."

"You could reward me with sex," I muttered. "Positive reinforcement..."

"Forty-six days, Bitch," Rachel growled.

"You are ferocious in battle – fearless and clever," Saku turned back to me. "Why do you put up with this constant degradation?"

"Degradation? I'm not insulted by what Rachel did or said," I retorted. "She is trying to teach me things I need to know if I'm going to survive. I respect her superior knowledge in her professional capacity," I continued. "I don't get upset when people tease, taunt, or challenge Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara...that's me, if you are confused.

I save my indignation for those who scorn Dot Ishara, Yakko Ishara and all members of House Ishara, past and present. Quite frankly, being disrespectful to me is actually rather difficult because I only care about the sensibilities of a handful of people."

"How can any warriors follow a leader into battle if that person has no pride and never shies away from shame?

And besides, what is this Wakko/Dot/Yakko nonsense," Saku persisted. "Fatal Squirts, start assembling my armor." Her attention was split between me and her panoply.

"Hello," I snickered. "I'm a male Amazon. The fact that I haven't run for my life way before now is all the heroic background check anyone should require.

Doubting my common sense actually makes sense. Doubting my courage, or loyalty is idiotic in too many ways to count. As for revealing the hallowed and revered enigmatic occult appellations of my House..." I started.

"Get him!" Tiger Lily showed some faux-outrage.

"Shit!" I cried out as Delilah, Tiger Lily and the rest of the SD swarmed me. Pamela and Miyako were of no help whatsoever. I could not express my joy more at the resulting physical abuse and humiliation aimed my way. I was tickled. Yes, my Kick-Ass, full-blood, natural born killers pinned me down and tickled me until I nearly peed on myself.

In a very short period of time, we'd shared some really nerve-racking moments. Dad dying, my showdown with Hayden, being mugged by Carrig and the rest of the crap that rained down blow after blow once I came out of my coma. They had taken me numerous times to the hospital and had to sit back helplessly while I suffered. Yet, I refused to be repressed by circumstance.

I fought for our people – OUR people now – both with the Earth & Sky in shared counsel and the Seven Pillars on the battlefield. Rachel hadn't given me word-one of a reprimand for leaving Charlotte to raise the alarm while I rushed into danger. I was an Amazon in her eyes. Charlotte could fix the phone. Miyako and I could not. The bridge had to be secured immediately.

We couldn't wait on Charlotte. I didn't even act as if what I did was all that brave. Rachel knew me far better now; she wouldn't make that mistake. Had I been able to fix the phone, I would have stayed and sent Charlotte. Had the whole team been there and Rachel told me to stay, I would have stayed while they ran into the fight.

No. The situation hadn't allowed that, so I had killed a number of men and been wounded. The backside of my right thigh had merely been grazed (which my normally mangled left side found to be grossly unfair.) That was another scar to add to my 'sexy'. I had fought in my own insane manner and was alive solely because Saku had decided to shoot another man instead of me.

Even after I knew who she was, I had allied with her and charged the rear of the enemy troop convoy. In the after-battle analysis, they weren't sure how many Seven Pillar Special Forces I had killed, both in the gulch and when I annihilated the back section of the attack column...and took my impromptu flying lesson.

Credit for destroying the bridge jacks, thus making the BBQ a carnal cookout featuring Chinese 'Long-Pig', was still hanging out there as well. Rachel and company were still pissed with me despite all that. Why? On a purely personal level, they realized they would miss me if I got myself killed. They were not supposed to feel that way about their protectee.

I certainly wasn't their first protective detail ... though they were starting to believe I'd be their last. No, I had done everything right – by going into harm's way – and they were furious with the universe for placing us in that situation. Since the universe wasn't offering itself up to be punished, it fell on me to soak up their pique.

Delilah was simply picking on me because she could get away with it this time.

"You are all embarrassments," Saku remarked bitterly once my screams began breathless pleas for mercy. "The Host has fallen a great way since my day." What a killjoy. I finally got my breath back.

[Akkadian] "And the Queen on the floor of the Royal chambers, pushing around toy chariots with her two eldest sons and a child-playmate, was the height of decorum."

Well, if looks could kill...I would have never made my nineteenth birthday, so Saku's glare was just another walk in the park.

[Akkadian] "That was a personal moment with my family. It was a VERY private moment," she sizzled.

[Akkadian] "My Mother's line is...it is what it is. My Father was murdered. My Father's sister and I were never close. These people are my family and my choice of kin."

"English," Pamela chided us.

"Having no family to call your own, you welcome so many that 'family' has no meaning," Saku angrily mocked my words.

There was a hushed moment then everyone but the three other Squirts and Saku started laughing. The three kids didn't know me either.

"By what metric do you measure family by?" I snickered.

"On his third day on the job, Fehér mén (Aya's pet name for me – White Stallion in the Magyar tongue – it is complicated) threw his body over my sisters and me to protect us," Aya said.

"He spared my foster-sister when she gravely insulted him," Mona volunteered. "He didn't know me. The Amazon, Constanza, would have died by anyone else's hand – except his. You may look down your nose at his mercy. As you do so, consider that it is his mercy that allows you to feel that way about him – and us right now." Whoa...

"I have never seen him fight out of pride, or take joy in any combat," Rachel stared down Saku. "My only fear is that Cáel will get himself killed saving my life, or the life of any member of my team. He knows it is wrong. He knows I will be absolutely furious with him...and he accepts that. He is like no other Amazon I have ever known.

We have limits. We follow orders. At our best, we put the welfare of the Host over our own survival. Not Ishara – Wakko Ishara. He follows the dictates of his house and those are to seek mercy and peace where appropriate. He is like no Amazon I have ever known, and I have zero doubt that he is one of the best Amazons I will ever know," she finished with a chuckle.

"I'm speaking my mind, aren't I?" she asked me.

"Afraid so...sorry about that," I apologized for corrupting her social skills.

"Saku, your mistake is that you confuse his caring about you and caring about your opinion of him," Pamela finished things up.

"Sakuniyas, I will work to honor my pledge to you. I will try to keep you alive because you can be a powerful ally of the Host, but also because it is the right thing to do," I enlightened her. "That doesn't make you all that special though. Personally I think you are a horrible, bitter bitch and lousy company for any non-masochist.

I'm going to help you in the same way I'm going to help everyone else here. This is despite me feeling confident that not a single Amazon on this planet has a living father. They've never had brothers because their mothers murdered them. Your crappy attitude doesn't influence me one way, or the other. You are a horrible fucking person born to a horrible fucking race – my race, the Amazon Host."

"You kill your fathers and sons," Delilah mumbled as she looked from face to face, finding not a single bit of denial, or shame. "I thought that was so much Greek bull's buttocks."

"Nope," Aya shrugged. "Before I left for camp, Momma told me they put Daddy – my other Daddy – down when I was two." Kind of like Old Yeller, or Benji. "His name was Paul Twelve."

Delilah looked at me with downright worrisome eyes.

"Yeah, I figured that out on day two on-the- job," I relayed to her. "For the past 2500 years, every male child of the Host has been tossed off a cliff to his death, or left out in the wilds for predators to devour. Every male they have kidnapped has been under a death sentence from the moment of capture.

They tried to genetically breed their captive male population with Amazon females, but something went wrong. The males began passing on genetic defects that poisoned the race. In response, they have begun recruiting men, such as myself, and exterminating their old male breeding populace.

Initially, I didn't run because I was sure they would hunt me down and kill me. Later...later I came to like enough of the Host to decide that knowing what was going on meant I couldn't let it slide. I couldn't leave this issue for someone else to tackle. I know I'm facing long odds, yet I'll never succeed if I don't try," I wrapped up my little my 'Cáel's Amazon Primer' lecture.

"Okay...okay, Cáel you are blood nuts...and hellishly brave. The rest of you are just hellish...killing your own kin as infants or if they get too old," Delilah sputtered. "That's plain wrong."

"I had sons," Saku stated. "They grew into fine, strong warriors. My daughters married into the nobility."

"Delilah, we don't expect you to understand our culture. Twice in our people's history, men have tried to eliminate our society, stealing our homes and property, and enslaving our children and sisters. We let down our guard once, and that nearly destroyed us...except we now have Cáel and a better understanding of what happened that second time," Tiger Lily educated Delilah.

"It turned out that not all males betrayed us. No...when we needed them the most, they sacrificed themselves for the welfare of our people and we repaid that loyalty with anger and barbarism. That is a burden we have carried all these centuries without understanding it. Only within the past month has the real truth about the Second Betrayal become known.

Many of us are now re-evaluating the dictates of our faith concerning men and sons. After all, Cael is the descendent of Amazons of a First House – dating back to the Trojan Wars. He has been welcomed by his ancestors and his goddess, Dot Ishara," she completed.

"What is it with the Dot, Wakko and..."

"Everyone buckle up," the pilot announced over the intercom. "We are on our final approach." Saku and the Squirts had her armor in some kind of order, we buckled up and let the plane coast on down to earth.

"Delilah and Cáel, since our 'vacation' was cut short, we haven't been able to bring your personal effects back from Africa yet," Rachel told us.

"Also, there will be four of Javiera's people meeting us in the hangar," she added. "We have been told to view them as non-hostiles."

"Oh joy," Pamela muttered then, "There is nothing to worry about folks."

"What? Me worry?" I goofy grinned her way.

(Governments, horrendous enemies and ruthlessly evil friends)

Four SUVs waited for us in the wide-open hangar. No sooner had the pilot given us the 'green light', than Rachel released the door/stairs mechanism and Charlotte began her decent. We had the camp FN P-90's, not the older Havenstone UMP 40's, so that was the weapon whose sights she was looking down as her eyes scanned the room. Five people. Four SUVs.

Rachel went next with me right behind her. My SD's precautions turned our guests from a rather annoyed-casual to alert-angry. Standing with our two standard Mercedes GL550's was Wiesława of House Živa. A sole guardian indicated to me that an ass-kicking was in the offing elsewhere. The Golden Mare – St. Marie was gathering the Havenstone Security Detail for some purpose, which meant she could only spare one more warrior for me.

I was fine with that. Not only did I feel bad about denying her the four ladies I had, I knew we were going into this global conflict outnumbered and out-financed. The Seven Pillars had gotten at least one blow in by striking at the Amazon summer camp. I had every reason to believe other unexpected attacks had occurred all across the globe.

In the closest black Tahoe SUV (didn't anyone use sedans anymore?) were two men in modestly tailored, off-the-rack suits. One with buzz-cut gray-white hair, was closer to fifty than forty, was as tall as me (a bit over six feet/1.9 meters) and close to my weight and build. That guy was pissed off.

His partner was smaller (5ft 10in/1.78m) and lighter. He was also cocky with that 'I know more than you schmucks' air about him. Beside the farther SUV, a Range Rover (black, of course...I swore in that moment that if I ever got to have my own fleet of House Ishara SUV's, I was going with baby blue, just to fuck with people's heads), were two other men ... one cultured and the other a bad-ass.

I didn't call him a bad-ass because he looked like a bad-ass. I called him a bad-ass because he carried himself like a member of the SD, except he was a guy – casually lethal. His buddy was the man he was body-guarding and, as I said, cultured looking. This second man was a thinker, a plotter and someone who had graduated from mostly taking orders to being the one issuing them. He was really unhappy.

As my foot hit the ground, the older/younger pair came toward me.

"Mr. Nyilas," the younger man said. Early thirties, doing well and thinking he should be doing even better. "I'm Senior Field Officer George Cresky and this is Special Agent Vincent Loire. Can we have a few minutes of your time?" They flashed their badges as we closed the distance.

Right. That was not a request. I wasn't born yesterday and I was becoming well-schooled in Amazon paranoia.

"Neat...well done. Can I see those ID's again?" I came back with a healthy dose of distrust.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Nyilas?" the 'smooth-talker' grinned.

"Yeah," I didn't bother smiling anymore. "He's FBI. You were a bit too quick concealing your junk." SA Loire was getting irate with the son of a bitch too. Cresky showed me his badge slowly this time. What the fuck was a Senior Field Officer?

"Delilah, who the hell is on a Senior Field Officer of a Joint Terrorism Taskforce?" I asked the person most in the know.

"If that's all he's showing, he's CIA," Delilah smirked.

"Ms. Fairchild," the cultured man spoke in a commanding tone and a crisp British accent. "A moment please." Someday somebody is going to ask me an honest question and I'm not going to know what to do. Delilah headed that way. Pamela tagged along.

"Miss, this is a private matter," the lead Brit stated calmly.

"I know," Pamela answered in a decidedly mild tone I had come to associate with violence. "Young man, you are not as smart as you think you are – shut your yap until I'm finished," she pointed a finger his way. "SAS? SBS? Royal Marines? Commando?" she turned to the bodyguard.

"Royal Marines then SRR," he responded with that same 'easy' voice, with a heavier Brit timbre.

"Are you and I going to have any problems?" she politely inquired of the bodyguard in a way I'd rarely heard her speak. She liked him right off the bat.

"I certainly hope not," he gave Pamela a slight, respectful nod.

"Thank you," she returned the respectful nodded. "Back you to you, buddy," she turned on the 'leader'. "What you have planned isn't going to happen. You are going to play nice, debrief Delilah here and then let her leave with us. Do not get into a pissy turf war with me, or the powers-that-be who sent Delilah our way."

"Or?" the man's gaze was a blatant provocation.

"I don't know your name, but I know you are MI-6 station chief for the UK's UN mission. I can name a half-dozen people who will give me your name. I don't give a rat's ass about extraterritoriality. You have a wedding band.

You don't wear it all the time, so I'm betting you are divorced, not that it matters. Pity about your kids because once I've killed you – and hopefully only incapacitated your friend here – I'm going to kill rest of your family." She pointed a finger into his face once more. "Let me finish.

Now, if you even think for a second this is bullshit, I've put a .308 bullet through the chest of a nine month old child who was in the wrong place at the wrong time so I could end the life of the man I was sent to kill. He thought it would make an effective human shield. Ask your buddy if I'm that kind of bitch."

The leader looked to his bodyguard who remained 'at ease', which spoke volumes in and of itself.

"That is not how..." the leader tried to keep pace.

"Hold on," Pamela interrupted him. "I didn't come over to have a conversation. I came over to deliver this warning and to repay a debt.

I like Delilah – as a fellow oxygen-breather, not as a friend – and I have a soft spot for Welshmen too stupid to avoid government service...and I never make a hollow threat, or an empty pledge. Rees Meadows – SAS: AB NEG, 29875604, Meadows, RA, CE," Pamela recited. "He is buried under the name Martin Angelov in a tomb adjacent to the British Military section of the Orlandodvtsi Cemetery in Sofia, Bulgaria. He went missing in 1978."

"You are finally getting around to telling us this now?" the leader grumbled.

"Honestly, talking AT you is as pleasant as passing a kidney stone. It was in the middle of the Cold War and none of us should have been behind the Iron Curtain, much less cancelling out a whole nest of very nasty human beings.

Rees, me and two of his friends went on a killing spree that lasted sixty-nine days. From the Crimea to Sofia, we racked up eighty-seven dead, most of them belonging to the Bulgarian CSS and the Soviet Union's KGB First and Second Directorates, including the #2 Cock-sucker at the CSS's Foreign Intelligence Directorate."

The bodyguard gave an abbreviated snort over that assessment. The rest of them were showing Pamela a great deal more attention.

"So, Sir Isaac Newton, what was I supposed to do? Knock on the door of some consulate, or embassy and say 'hey, I have intimate knowledge of the British safe houses throughout Eastern Europe.

I know all this because I was co-opted by British agents on a black-bag operation that was part of an illegal, covert British government directive to take retributive actions against citizens and agents of multiple rather-hostile powers on their home soil...'" Pamela smirked. "Yes, I could have stepped forward then, but I chose to stay alive instead."

"That was thirty-six years ago," he protested.

"What part of me confessing to 87 unsolved murders has escaped you? You, the Russians, Moldavians, Romanians and Bulgarians might be interested in what a trained assassin was doing in the Soviet Union in the first place and how I ended up coming across your lads.

There was also the small matter of the two men who got out before the end, and the belief I have that they kept their words and never mentioned my involvement with them. Besides, I retired before the Berlin Wall fell. By that time, I wanted out of that lifestyle. And I couldn't trust you numbskulls to leave me well enough alone. Case in point," she gave a nod to Delilah.

"Thank you," the bodyguard acknowledged Pamela's bestowal of the gift of 'knowing'.

Somewhere in England a family had lost a son, brother, maybe even a father – a grandfather by now. He may have been declared MIA. More likely he had been listed as 'killed during a training accident' with a closed casket/empty casket funeral.

"Colour Sergeant Charles 'Chaz' Tomorrow, Ma'am," he made his introductions.

"Pamela Pile, assassin (retired) and knife-fighting trainer. The man over...well, the only man with us is Cáel, my grandson. The rest of the ladies are all unattached, if you are interested," Pamela shook the man's hand. Chaz arched one eyebrow in curiosity. "If a guy doesn't have a minimum of five scars, they aren't a man in these girls' estimation.

None of this 'everyone gets a trophy' rubbish in this crowd," Pamela explained.

"Mr. Tomorrow," the Brit leader said in a clipped tone. "Business. Ms. Faircloth, let's sit down and talk." The got into their Land Rover and shut the doors. Back to my drama.

"Hi, what can I do for the CIA?" I addressed my two man welcome wagon.

"Officer Cresky is here as an observer," Vincent clarified. "We have come to touch base with you. Our taskforce has been told you are being cooperative and we would like to keep it that way."

"We were also informed that you had a woman of Japanese extraction with your party," George cut in. I looked over my shoulder then to the left and right.

"She doesn't seem to be around," I shrugged.

"Is she still on the plane?" George made to move past me and see for himself. Moving toward the plane was okay. Moving toward the four Fatal Squirts and Saku was not. Since Sakuniyas hadn't exhibited the slightest desire to inform people before she bifurcated them, I grabbed his elbow.

"Slow down, Tex," I cautioned him. He was looking at my hand as if he was planning out the series of martial arts moves he was going to break me down with. Very Jason Bourne of him.

"We were told she was a...ninja," FBI Vincent said with deep-seated scorn. I let go of George.

"She is. Why do you want to talk with her?" I asked Vincent.

"It is part of the ongoing investigation," he evaded. Tiger Lily had used the interruption to sheppard our youths along while Saku covered the movement with her body. George headed for the plane.

"Well, with an explanation like that, I'm sure she will show when she wants to, Vincent," I sighed.

"She is not part of Havenstone's deal with Javiera. You can be a dick like George there, or you can trust me enough to believe I'm not going to burn any bridges with Special Agent Maddox and FP Castello," I stated. "Do understand, I am not your snitch, CI (confidential informer), or some scumbag turning State's Evidence to save his own skin.

My people do not view themselves to be American citizens, or citizens of any other recognized nation. They do not consider their numerous infractions of your laws to be criminal and they aren't afraid of you. A few of us started this morning shooting people, setting them on fire and watching them burn to death.

Now, before you make your final mistake of this meeting, think about what I've told you," I advised him. He dissected my words and body posture with the skills of a professional cop.

"I would like to talk to your ninja – Ms. Miyako Yuki," he requested. Miyako had a last name and it meant – Snow. Game of Thrones?

"Yes?" Miyako responded. I gulped. Vincent nearly leapt away in surprise.

"You ARE a ninja," he croaked.

Miyako looked up at me, gave me a wickedly little grin then shared it with Vincent.

"I confess to nothing," she beamed.

"Ms. Yuki, last night at approximately 8:30 pm Tokyo time, a series of violent criminal actions happened in five of Japanese largest cities," Vincent told her.

"Ms. Love thinks you can provide some insight into how that might tie into the attack in Arizona," he tried to incite a reaction from Miyako and failed.

"I do not know," she replied in a flat voice. "I will contact some of my associates and give you what information I am allowed to share. Cáel, we need to go now."

"Rachel!" I got her attention. "We need to leave now. Vincent..." I kept going.

"Agent Loire, please," he stated firmly.

"Whatever. I'm inviting you to come along with me. Leave George the keys. He gives me the creeps," I finished.

"What...there she is," George was coming back down the jet's stairs. "We need to..." he clued in on the rapidly loading Amazons.

"You can't dictate the progress of this investigation," Loire said.

"I'm not...Vincent. I go on a first name basis. I am not telling you how to do your job," I tried again. "I'm allowing you to sit in as the intelligence arrives and not get it watered down by some third party.

My people don't trust you and yours, but I trust Javiera and Virginia – Agent Maddox. I told you that we do not consider ourselves Americans. We are part of a tribal identity, culture and faith that predates the United States, the Judeo-Christian tradition and the Code of Hammurabi. I understand your disbelief and that doesn't matter. We believe it and that DOES matter.

Got it? Good. That's your concept to juggle. Now, my side's problem is wondering how the US government let roughly 350 heavily armed Special Forces from the People's Republic of China into your country so they could attack us this morning, threatening 500 of our children. Your team dropped the ball and my side isn't feeling the love.

Still, we are honoring our deal to accommodate Javiera's investigative team. If you want to sit in the lobby at Havenstone, be my guest. By making the offer, I've met my good faith obligation to her."

"Why not George here?" Vincent thumbed toward a rather smug George who somehow thought he held the key pieces in this dilemma. "He's our foreign intelligence expert."

"Delilah, shit going down in Japan," Pamela tapped in the Range Rover's driver side window.

"Okay," I sighed. "First off, we need guys like you – honest, fair-minded law enforcement. I can get a 'George' whenever I want one. We don't need him."

"Hey now," George protested. "You don't know me. The taskforce is working on multiple foreign terrorist angles."

"Thanks for lying to us, George," I glared.

"I'm not lying," he protested.

"Then you are a delusional idiot, neck deep in shit and wondering if someone is ever going to cut the lights on," I countered. Mushroom, or lying professional espionage prick...

"I don't think you are an idiot. I think you employ mercenaries and some of your former subcontractors showed up on my Dad's doorstep a few weeks back," I seared him with my banked rage. How did I know this? I didn't. I was testing him to see what his reaction would be.

"Hold that protest one second. Vincent, you come downstairs one night and find me fucking your oldest daughter on your favorite lounger. What do you do?"

His look said it all.

"George, I fuck your wife, make a video and it gets posted to the cloud. What do you do?" I redirected the blow.

His outrage was a second too slow and Vincent caught that. Vincent? Vincent raised his daughter right. I was screwing her on his favorite chair, he'd politely, but firmly, invite me to another room and explain the facts of life if I planned to keep seeing his 'little girl'. Summary; the man trusted his offspring. A good father was what Havenstone needed.

George – his wife cheating would never be his fault and he'd immediately go into cost analysis mode...over his wife's infidelity. Fuck-nut. He was also playing the same game with me, my father's death and how those dead men tracked back to the CIA. I didn't believe they were with 'The Agency'. I believed they were hired killers the CIA used for 'unpleasant' tasks and it was those crimes they were interested in keeping secret.

"How do you know I have daughters?" Vincent turned his investigator's mind back to me.

"A calculated karmic guess, Vincent. You would seriously rock as a father of young ladies," I grinned. "As a man who regularly preys on the feminine gender, I can get a good sense on the quality of their parenting in the first thirty seconds. I'm rarely wrong."

"And my wife?" George mocked me. "The snap judgment of a barfly?"

"Eh...I don't have a clue. I wanted to piss you off and I did," I sneered.

"Special Agent Loire," George snapped back. "Let's go." Vincent tossed him the keys.

"Officer Cresky," I'll be keeping a close eye on our targets and keep in regular contact."

George was smart enough to not argue. We had all taken our seats in the GL-550s when Delilah came sprinting over. The drive into Manhattan was done with a bevy of phone calls. Miyako made some clearly coded message drops. Rachel touched base with Elsa while Delilah had a 'chat' with someone on the other side of the Atlantic.

I missed Aya, but she, as war leader, had to stick with the rest of the Fatal Squirts and that put her in car #2, headed for Caitlyn's townhouse. Aya's mom had sent away three kids of varying heights and got four tiny mites back. I continued to get more than I deserved. I called Hana Sulkanen to set up another meeting with the Earth & Sky.

I got a lot more.

"Hana, this is Cáel Nyilas," I started. "I know I haven't even begun to pay you back for your earlier favor...and I need another one. I need a back-channel meeting with that person at the Kazakhstan consulate."

"Cáel, I need to know why," she answered. I sensed something behind that request.

"This morning, a few hundred men of most likely Han ethnicity tried to kill me," I confessed. "I'm worried that the conflict will spill over to my Kazak friends' way." Long pause.

"Cáel, our family business is heavily invested in oil and natural gas exploration throughout Central Asia," she worried over every word.

"Twenty hours ago we lost contact with our petrochemical operations in Karamay, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, PRC (People's Republic of China)," she made the leap into critical trust. "That is $10.75 billion worth of energy to the PRC and we can't raise anybody at our regional offices or any of the sites. I just got off the phone with our director of operations in Pavlodar, Kazakhstan.

He reported air raid sirens, rolling blackouts and police activity all over the city. Cáel, that's the largest refinery in Central Asia, bar none. This is bad – B-A-D and not only for our corporate interests, but the entire regional economy. Also, do you know where Aksai Chin is? Well, according to their new website they've declared the creation of an independent provisional government, free of Chinese control, and are asking Pakistan for recognition.

Does any of that make sense to you?"

"Where is Aksai Chin?" I mumbled.

"I had to look it up to," Hana sighed. "It is PRC territory and its southwest of Tibet, but that area is somewhat in disputed by Pakistan and India. It is a desolate land in the ass-end of nowhere."

(Historical sidebar)

Everyone knows the first blow struck against the United States in World War Two was at Pearl Harbor on December 7th 1941. What few recall, is that it was NOT the surprise airstrike that began its attack at 7:48 a.m. While the aerial assault had already been launched when the casus belli occurred, there was a theatrical trailer before the feature presentation.

A US destroyer engaged and destroyed a Japanese min-sub while it attempted to enter the military harbor at Pearl at 6:37 a.m., more than an hour earlier. At that point, the US was at war, yet telegrams weren't swarming to and from the US War and Navy Departments.

Those government agencies weren't sounding the clarion call to all bases in the Pacific and the Far East to man the defenses, sally forth with the warships (the Pacific Fleet and Asiatic squadron) and launching the US Army Air Corp to find and engage the forces of the Empire of Japan (EoJ).

There were multiple reasons for this, but the crucial one was that the US thought it had more time. Contingency plans for fighting the EoJ and the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) were, with minor tweaking, three years old. Since there was no US war plan for a first strike on Pearl Harbor, no one in the US Navy understood how fucked they were about to get.

In contrast, the Japanese plans weren't finalized until a month before the attack, so they knew precisely what they had to do. A final bit cultural bias correction (for Americans) is that, for the IJN, Pearl Harbor wasn't even the pivotal move. In the long term, the destruction of Battleship Row at Pearl meant little.

US striking power was going to be pretty minuscule for the first six months of the war, no matter what the outcome of the surprise attack turned out to be. The Pacific War was a sideshow. The Japanese 'must win' was on the other side of the world in places like Malaysia, Indonesia, Philippines and Burma. Those regions had the raw materials Japan needed.

The Philippines was a US possession with its own sad, underequipped and inadequate military. No matter what happened at Pearl Harbor, the forces in the Philippines weren't going to get an ounce of aid from the mainland. The Japanese had to take the Philippines because it sat astride the main sea route from the riches of Southeast Asia to the Japanese Home Islands.

The US had been mobilizing for a year and had been spoiling for a war with Japan for six months, yet it had nothing ready to send to the Philippines. They kept thinking they had more time. The British Empire had already been fighting in Europe for two years and they also knew a war with the Empire of Japan was coming, yet they kept putting off the needed reinforcements and force modernizations in their possessions, too. They also thought they had more time.

The Dutch...eh, you couldn't blame the Dutch for their pathetic effort. Their homeland had been overrun by Nazi Germany in 1940, so they had nothing to spare for their greatest colonial possession (yes, in 1941, tiny, little Holland owned the massive Dutch East Indies, aka Indonesia).

How does this relate to the tale? The Seven Pillars was playing the role of Imperial Japan, the Amazons were the US Pacific Fleet, the 7 Ninja Families were in the position of the Philippines, the Black Lotus were British South East Asia and the prize was the Earth & Sky/Dutch East Indies.

(End of sidebar)

The 9 Clans, the Amazons and the Earth & Sky ALL knew they were going to have to fight the Seven Pillars in their near future. The 9 Clan expected the Seven Pillars to drop like a ton of bricks on their ancient enemies, the Black Lotus, in Southeast Asia, even though the key financial support for the Black Lotus was the Ninja Clans and their influence in Japan.

In retrospect, knocking off the ninja first made perfect sense. Without the Ninja, the Black Lotus would be in dire financial straits. Duh. The Amazons had thirty years to make a contingency for the Seven Pillars launching a preemptive attack. So many of their children gathered in one spot was a perfect target...and no Amazon planners had seen it coming.

The Amazons, despite their global air/sea-lift capability, thought their bases in the western North America were safe. Even then, they were thinking global military strategy, not diplomatic blackmail. Attacking the camp gave no serious strategic advantage. Even wiping out the entire complex wouldn't noticeably weaken the Amazon's war-fighting capability.

The Seven Pillars' plan was to buy time by holding the children hostage. Either the Amazons would make concessions, or at least negotiate until the 7P could cripple the 9 Clans and the Earth & Sky before the Amazons launched their expected counterstroke. Even the actual calamity at Summer Camp wasn't a terrible blow to their stratagem.

The Amazons were seen as a peripheral nuisance, even though they had freeholds in both Indonesia and Australia. They were bit players in East Asia. The Seven Pillars knew the Amazons would be coming for them eventually. They had gambled with the lives of a few hundred of their elite troops and lost.

The failure of that mission was an inconvenience, not a catastrophe. In Asia, tens of thousands of Seven Pillar operatives, troops and pawns sprang into action and the ninja and Earth & Sky were in deep kimchi. So, if the Seven Pillars was in the midst of their Asian pseudo-secret blitzkrieg, what the fuck was going on in Aksai Chin?

It made no sense to everyone in the loop except me...and less than ten other Amazons. Historically, both Germany and Japan started their global ambitions in the mid-twentieth century with surprise attacks and both succumbed because they failed to appreciate the qualities of their enemies.

Only one quality mattered at this critical juncture. It was the military genius leading the Earth & Sky. Yeah, he barely had a week on the job. It turned out to not really matter. The E&S knew precisely who'd they had to beat in order to succeed – the Seven Pillars. For sixty years, they'd been ramping up their resources and refining their plans.

I invented a saying I was going to tell Temujin if we ever met; 'don't dance on the graves of your enemies until you know the strength of their children'. More on that later.

"Hana, set up the meeting and give me the number of whomever runs security over there," I requested.

"I'll do what I can to set up the meeting, but let me handle the security matters," she counter-offered. "Jormo won't like you having any part of our procedures."

"I understand that and his low opinion of me. I also know that this is a case of who you know being more valuable than what you know," I pleaded. I really owed Hana.

"These people feel obligated to me on a personal level. It will be more than business if I make the request, I promise you," I urged her. Pause.

"Deal. Keep me informed Cáel," she requested before hanging up. Vincent looked me over.

"Did you just conspire with some sort of corporate entity to interfere in the internal security of one, or more foreign countries?" he quizzed me. My answer caught him off-guard.

"Yes, I did. Please don't arrest me," I met his gaze. My open confession floored him.

"That's why you didn't want George here," he nodded. I wanted to do summersaults into a handstand. A bright man who wasn't an insult to all masculine virtues. This guy had to meet Felix, who I imagined was starting to feel awful lonely at work.

"Cáel, when we get Virginia back, we keep him," Pamela grinned. Our minds were in synch. "Are you divorced?" she asked Vincent. He mulled over his obligation to reply.

"Widower," he confided. "Medical malpractice three years ago."

"My sympathies," she nodded. "I hope you are ready to get back in the dating pool."

"Excuse me?" he sounded perturbed. "My private life is none of your business."

"Giving you a bodyguard that you look relaxed around is our business," Rachel caught on.

"I'm a federal agent. I don't need a bodyguard," he countered.

"I will make you a deal," Pamela smirked.

"Pick any person in this car. If you can take them in a combination of unarmed, armed, pistol and long-arms, I'll shut up about the bodyguard," Pamela challenged him. I saw it in his eyes. He was about to call me out. Instead he gave Rachel and Pamela a second look.

"You," he indicated Pamela. He hadn't chosen the oldest.

He had picked the one the rest of us deferred to. Good man.

"Very well," Pamela shook his hand.

"Hey Agrippina Minor, do you even remember what bullets and guns are used for?" I teased her.

"Suck it up, Caligula," she responded.

"I throw bullets to trip up my enemies up so I can catch them and beat them with the butt of my Barrett boom-stick," she mocked me.

"Bruce Campbell is an under-appreciated comedic talent," Vincent offered.

"Quick," Delilah reached forward from the rear seat. "Do you have any daughters of dating age?"

"Oh...I suggest you show us your daughters so we keep them safe from Cáel," Rachel clued in. "He's a great male, but requires constant supervision."

"Male?" Vincent looked at me.

"Yeah. When you and I roll into Havenstone, we'll double the male population in the building," I informed him.

"Brian is gone," Wiesława enlightened me.

"Oh..." I grunted. Brian's attitude had made his departure inevitable, that sanctimonious bastard.

"Gone?" Vincent prodded me. He was right to suspect nefarious 'goings on'.

"Wiesława, where did Brian get stationed?" I asked.

"Sydney...Austria...no, Australia...the continent," she worked through her imperfect English.

"Yeah, I recall Brian having a thing for didgeridoos," I mused. A minute later.

"He's been kidnapped and smuggled to another country, hasn't he?" Vincent asked the group.

No one said anything.

"Thank you for not lying to me," he remarked. "Was he a bad person?" Trick question.

"Vincent, if you want, we can arrange a phone call so you can talk to the guy," I offered. "I think he's currently a locust-wrangler in the Outback."

"Outback? Nah..." he though it over. "I have the utmost confidence in your ability to scare the hell out of person who is utterly at your mercy, so what would be the point?"

"Your daughters?" Delilah redirected us to a more (?) pleasant topic. Vincent pulled out his phone, punched a few buttons then handed it to...me?

"My oldest is Tabitha, she's 21 – she is a senior at Georgetown. Gretchen is 19 and hitch-hiking across the country and Mariyah is 18 and joining the Navy in November."

"Good God!" I exclaimed. "How many guys have you murdered?" They ranged from above average attractive to Yum-yummy!

"None. All my girls know Tae Kwon Do and have qualified with a 9mm at the FBI training course," he proudly informed me. Vincent was in the wrong crowd.

"9's?" Rachel murmured. "I find it to be underpowered in both penetration and armor defeating capabilities. Go with a 10mm, or a .40 S&W." Poor Vince.

"But they are girls," he explained. Blink. Another pause.

"Oh, you were serious about that?" Rachel snorted.

"Vincent, welcome to 'No Man's Land'," I sighed.

"If she," he looked to the quiet Miyako, "is a ninja...then it wasn't amazons, it really is Amazons with a capital 'A'. Damn it. Are you going to try to relieve me of my firearm?"

"Nope. Javiera has vouched for you," I informed him.

"As you might guess, terms like 'your word' carry a great deal of weight in these surroundings. By walking inside Havenstone, you are agreeing to present yourself honestly. If something comes up and you feel the need to back out, let us know and we'll escort you down to the closest FBI office," I advised. "All we ask is that you don't freak out."

"If you had only one word to describe your Father, what would it be?" Vincent turned the tables on me. I hesitated. Dad...one word?

"I..." I started to apologize.

"There is nothing wrong with that, Mr. Nyilas," he approved.

"The children of single parents either use one word like 'strong', or 'brave' when the parent fulfilled only one role. If they cover both roles, one word never suffices," Vincent explained.

"My Dad was nothing like me. He only dated three women in his life and the last one he married," I said.

"He never understood my sexual predilections, but he never criticized me over them either."

"Thankfully, I don't have that problem," Vincent shut down that venue. The discussion petered out after that. This wasn't overly odd since neither Miyako, Delilah nor I had our personal phones. I didn't want to contact Timothy and Odette until I had a better handle on my itinerary.

We parked in the garage, but had to stop by the Security Desk so that our people could get some quick basics on Special Agent Loire. It was my Wilma Draper's shift. She seemed overjoyed to see me too.

"Sister," she addressed me. Oh really now?

"When?" I inquired, already pleased with the revelation.

"I was inducted two mornings ago," she kept grinning.

"Welcome, sister," we clasped arms. "Keep your eyes open and pass the word around. I'm looking for a hundred 'Runners' for a highly dangerous combat command.

It won't be my unit, the leader is an evil, sadistic monster and the odds of survival aren't great."

"This is another path to induction?" Wilma asked. The last time Wilma and I talked, she was polite yet deferential. Now she was comfortably one of the team – Team Ishara – and her words carried the same weight as any other full-blood.

"I can't promise that," I shook my head. "If the survivors succeed in the missions set before them and the Council lifts the death sentence on their leader, then yes, it does."

"I can think of twenty off the bat who will step forward," Wilma's smile grew feral.

"Have them spend every extra minute training," I cautioned. "She has threatened to kill those who fail the audition."

"Ouch...they'll still try," she nodded. "Take care, Wakko Ishara." I had people waiting on me.

I gave the 4-1-1 on Vincent. He was escorted to the range so they could get the basics of his firearms.

It would take him roughly ten minutes. Felicité of the SD and Selena stepped off one of the elevators as we made our way there. Miyako joined them silently and off they went – off premises for a private chat. There was no official alliance between the 9 Clans and the Amazon, so their business was still theirs.

I found it interesting that Felicite's warding behavior switched to Miyako when they departed. I held off on making the 'she's got my baby on board' for the moment. Rachel dismissed her team. I dismissed Rachel with the explanation that I had Wiesława if something went wrong. She gave me a terse nod before joining her ladies.

I had shed my crowd down to myself, Saku, Delilah, Wiesława and Pamela by the time I entered the Executive Services floor. Tuesday was winding down, so the office space was mostly empty. Close to Katrina's office were Arwen and two ladies who had to be Epona House Guard. Things had changed in so many ways. Arwen was cloaking her emotions.

"Fehér mén," one called out, smiling. The other one snorted in amusement. Word about Aya and I had gotten out. I decided to roll with it. 'White Stallion' could be the name House Epona chose to address me by. Arwen didn't share in the relaxing moment.

"Only you," she tried to separate me from my entourage.

"How is Katrina doing?" I asked. Arwen wasn't stupid.

"She is fine and these are her orders," she held her ground.

"Please note that I have heard her orders and am ignoring them," I joked as I stepped around her. I'm not sure what made Arwen think she could withstand Saku.

Without breaking her stride, Sakuniyas's palms slammed into the bottoms of Arwen's ribcage, heaving her up and way. Arwen hit the wall next to Katrina's office door – about 20cm off the ground when she impacted. The two House Guard went 'guns-ready'. Saku had already followed me through the door. Delilah slipped past Arwen and that left Pamela.

"If you three want to chase Shammuramat, Queen of Assyria and a fighter oath-bound to House Ishara into Katrina's office, be my guest," Pamela snorted. Wiesława was behaving by staying outside. They didn't rush past Pamela. "Thought so. Arwen, you get in Cáel's way again, he might stop giving a crap that you are House Epona's apprentice and beat you like the little tramp you are."

"You speak for Ishara now?" Arwen grumbled.

"No," Pamela chuckled. "You didn't use Aya's pet name for him. Why? See, when Cáel gets around to asking himself that question, he's doing to decide that you think Aya is a weakling and a failure.

Before you spout off with your pie-hole about Aya being Epona's problem, know that she is Cáel's daughter in every way that counts. Katrina accepts that, so your opinion does not matter...and if it should someday matter – it still won't matter. Since you know nothing of the bond between a daughter and her father, I'm giving you a cautionary note: tread carefully around Wakko Ishara.

Given the least provocation, he will break you, Katrina be damned," Pamela stated.

"House Epona is far larger than House Ishara. If he wishes a feud, so be it," Arwen snorted.

"Ah yes," Pamela happily mocked her. "That was the level of personal courage I was looking for in you, Arwen. Thank you for living down to my expectations."

Inside, there was a different issue to deal with. Katrina, Elsa, Buffy, Daphne and an Amazon who had a vague familiarity to another, dead Amazon I knew. Elsa rested her ass on the left corner of Katrina's desk. Katrina was in her chair, Daphne and Buffy were on the sofa – standing when I entered, and the stranger was in the closest chair to Elsa.

"Konstantina of House Šauška – Cáel, Head of House Ishara," Katrina made the introductions. She stood up and we clasped arms.

"Nice to meet you," I greeted her in a neutral tone. She did the same. I turned my attention to Buffy and Daphne, clasping arms before folding them into hugs.

Buffy didn't like Konstantina ,which spelled trouble. She was also angry with Katrina, which was really dangerous.

"Okay, what's going on?" I regarded Katrina and Elsa.

"If you recall, Troika Šauška ran our Diplomatic Section," Katrina began.

"Since St. Marie killed her, we have been waiting for a new one to be appointed," she continued. I had the feeling Chief of the Diplomatic Corpse wasn't a huge prestige position in the Host. "St. Marie has appointed you for the post." Fuck.

"You are not the universal choice for the position," Katrina explained. "Others have suggested Konstantina for the position," she clarified.

"House Šauška supports your nomination," Konstantina stressed. I hadn't been 'nominated'.

"And House Epona does NOT," Buffy growled. Two central elements were colliding. First off, St. Marie, the Golden Mare, had given me a job to do. Key word: given. I had no honorable choice in the matter.

"The majority of houses do not support such a young House as Ishara to assume this role during the current crisis," Katrina defended herself. "Cáel is too new to Havenstone." New, old – that was irrelevant. There would be no interview process followed by a Senate/Council confirmation hearing. St. Marie was being honest in that she wanted me to do this job. There was no reason I knew of for her to do otherwise.

The second element was that women are past mistresses of not saying what they mean. They can hurt, confuse, or protect you in oblique ways. It took me a millisecond to piece the girl-politics together. I figured Katrina was playing softball with me so my poor brain wouldn't strain itself. St. Marie was my ally. Katrina was being publically contrary to me; thus when I took the post as she wanted me to do, I wouldn't be seen as being in her corner.

House Šauška pretended to support me so they would look good when I backed down – which I was bound to do if Katrina didn't support me (idiots). I had run off to summer camp instead of standing before the Council. They thought I was irresponsible, which I was, and didn't really care about the Amazon political system, which was wrong – I did care. That was why I sent Buffy in my place.

"How many people are in this department/unit/corps maybe?" I asked Konstantina. She weighed her words carefully and guessed wrong.

"There are only nine of us," she went for making the group sound insignificant. "Troika was the tenth. You would be her replacement."

"Cool," I grinned at Konstantina, "I accept St. Marie's appointment. When can I get a situational briefing?"

"What? You want to do this? Why?" Konstantina stood and took a step my way.

"I'm not going to be a smart Alec, despite your deception," I sighed. "The truth is Troika's group hasn't done shit to safeguard the Host."

"You know nothing of what we have been doing?" Konstantina snapped.

"Nice. I need to meet with a member of the Earth & Sky," I grumbled. "Do it – now!"

"That is not what..." she got out.

"Then you are not doing your jobs," I interrupted.

"Our JOB was to analyze the data provided by Executive Services for patterns concerning Secret Societies and third parties," Konstantina countered.

"You are kidding..." I responded. Silence. "Who initiates diplomatic contact?"

"The High Priestess, or now St. Marie," she replied. Implied was that all of this crisis was my fault.

"But, if they did ask, what would you do?" I kept at her.

"That is why you don't need to be Chief Diplomat of the Host. You don't know what needs to be done," Konstantina gloated.

"Oh...okay...I need six of your people for extended assignments," I said after taking a deep breath.

"I do not believe I can work with you," Konstantina stated.

"Okay. Good-bye," I dismissed her. She looked for help from Elsa and Katrina.

None was forthcoming. "Beat it, Konny. This meeting is only for those with decision-making ability and that has stopped being you." She wasn't a Head of House, thus on the Council. She snatched up her valise and stormed out, barely missing Pamela.

"I'm betting something bad happened in Japan," I began.

"I will need five guardians, Elsa," I regarded the SD Chief.

"We don't have the Security Detail to spare for extended assignments at this time," she replied.

"Chose the best of the remaining security staff then," I responded. "I want to put an Amazon diplomat with the 9 Clans, Illuminati, Earth & Sky, the Ninja and Javiera's taskforce."

"Actually, Katrina, can you get Yasmin back here. Putting her with the Feds would be our best bet to stay ahead of their planning," I asked my mentor, friend and ally.

"Good choice. I'll have her here tomorrow afternoon," Katrina nodded.

"Next order of business; from here on out, the Diplomatic Corps sits in on all military/security meetings," I continued. "We need to know what to ask our partners in this conflict," I demanded.

"No," Elsa countered. "We can't have you bartering Amazon battle plans to other groups whose loyalty will always be suspect."

"If St. Marie says the information remains compartmentalized, then that is so. Otherwise, we are going to be much better off in this fight if we coordinate efforts," I made my case.

Katrina's nod led to Elsa's acceptance as well.

"Buffy, I don't want you to miss a meeting," I smiled at my 'First'."

"What? Where are you going to be?" Buffy worried.

"I need to go to Europe and find any surviving Arinniti heirs," I kept grinning.

"Really?" Elsa grumbled. "You NEED to go? Can't we send someone else?"

"Ah, come on," I pleaded. "I can do this. It's the Old World...Transylvania – full of quaint inns, cheap curio shops and packed youth hostels."

"Packed with young women," Katrina teased me.

"I promise, I'll play it safe this time," I kept begging. Yes – European babes looking for handsome, dark strangers on a secretive mission...note to self: pack extra condoms.

"Safe," Elsa sizzled. "In the middle of a battle, did you really stand on top of an enemy Humvee and drop a napalm grenade in knowing it was packed with men and ammo?"

"Maybe, kinda, well sorta," I evaded, yet still sounded guilty.

"According to preliminary reports, the explosion threw you five meters," she glared.

"Woot! Is that a new Amazon record?" I turned that frown upside down.

"Forty-six days, Bitch," Elsa snarled.

"Hold on," Saku, who had been leaning on the wall next to the door, spoke up. "Is he, or isn't he a member of the Council? If he is, who are you to talk to him this way? Cáel 'Wicklow ... Wacco ... whatever-Wo he is' Ishara acted bravely, if idiotically. Without his actions, the best outcome the Host could have gained was a draw.

At least give him the opportunity to defend his actions," she groused.

"Cáel, do you wish to defend your actions?" Elsa looked to me.

"Nope. I'm good. Hell, I barely remember even being there," I joked.

"You are lying!" Saku yelled at me.

"Oh, my apology. Ladies, this is Sakuniyas. She saved my life...five times this morning." I returned the favor, introducing Katrina, whose office Saku recognized, and Elsa, whose title she wasn't familiar with. There was no 'Security Detail' in her days with the Host. Buffy and Daphne though.

"How can she be your 'First'?" Saku was confused. "Is she a he dressed like a woman?" Buffy got angry while I laughed. See, in Amazon lingo, 'First' implied we were lesbian lovers.

"No. The romantic attachments are real enough. There is no accepted title for a female lover of a male Amazon leader."

"Her?" Sakuniyas pointed at Daphne.

"Buffy doesn't speak our native tongue. I have volunteered to translate for all members of House Ishara. I have sworn oaths to Buffy, Helena – our – House Ishara's Keeper of Records, and Cáel on this matter."

"I don't care how you saw the fight, Cáel. I didn't save your life. I was going to kill those men anyway. At best, you distracted them so that they were easy kills," Saku glared. "I do not know why you run away from glory and honor. It makes no sense to me."

"Saku, I don't care if people think I'm brave, or cowardly. For those who matter, I do the best I can and try to deliver on my promises," I explained.

Clearly the universe felt my life was too explicable – thus the newest arrivals.

"Cáel?" a voice called from the door. It was Tadêfi, the Augur, and Sikia, her guardian.

"Are those two yours as well," Sakuniyas scoffed. Too bad she wasn't talking about the ladies.

"Yeah...yeah, I ah..." I didn't dare say 'afraid so'. "Yes. Boys, girls, or a boy and a girl?"

"Excuse me?" That was Katrina.

"Yes, Cáel," Delilah finally felt safe in speaking. "You've got Miyako knocked up with a baby girl. Let's see what you did this time." I couldn't spare Delilah a dirty look because getting into physical contact with Tadêfi was more important to me.

Sikia raised one of Tadêfi's hands so that when I reached them, her fingers touched my lips. There was a hidden social benefit of being blind and deaf. You can be effortlessly shameless. The Augur's right hand was on my lips so she could 'hear' me with her fingertips. Her left hand snaked around me, coming to rest on my left ass cheek and pulling our bodies together.

"I have missed you inside of me," she purred. Woot! Who was going to kill me first? Buffy, or Elsa.

"How about we go out on a date first?" I suggested. Yes, I was dodging sex because...I had other sex to catch up with. Odette, Libra and Brooke, Buffy, Oneida and ... Dot Ishara save me... Rhada.

Plus...Ulyssa and Nadia (my Sunday Night thing), Marla (who had threatened to come to NYC), and Nicole Lawless, my lawyer. For the moment, I was trying to limit my Amazon exposure.

"I am not sure what you mean, but I willingly place myself in your hands," Tadêfi kept being sexy.

"The Augur will give birth to a daughter. The one next to her will give birth to a son," Saku made her undead prediction. She curled her lip cruelly as she gave the second bit of news.

"The first son to continue the Vranus legacy," I wrapped my free hand around Sikia's waist. "Yakko Ishara will live again with Tadêfi's and Miyako's daughters.

The line of Vranus has been watched over by Dot and it honors her for that line to continue, Sikia," I assured her. After all, the birth of a son was dour news under normal circumstances.

"I would like to meet my sister-mother if possible, Cáel," Tadêfi requested.

"That is a good idea, Tadêfi. She is in need of some comfort and insight," I answered.

Her agreement was given as the phone rang. Katrina got my attention via Pamela. It was Iskender, my friend with the Earth & Sky, and he wanted a meeting in the morning with a hint that it was way more than a welcome back. After he hung up, I found myself waiting for Elsa and Katrina to provide me with the Amazon marital update, but that never came.

The final issue was Sakuniyas' request to raise her own one hundred member fighting force. If anyone had thought she would be put off by being denied full-blooded Amazons, she gave them no sign of disappointment. When we were on the elevator going down, I asked her why.

"Her," she shot Buffy a look.

"Quite frankly, the full-bloods haven't impressed me as much as those born of other mothers. Many of these new women have the look of starving dogs," she added.

"We are not dogs," was Buffy heated rebuttal.

"She means it in a different manner than her words would indicate," I rubbed Buffy's arm.

"I want women who are desperate for blood and glory. I don't want killers. I want butchers. I want warriors schooled in the art of atrocities and every form of barbaric actions ever imagined. I want us renowned for such savagery that foes flee before battle even begins," Saku explained.

"You want psychotically deranged berserkers?" Daphne murmured.

"That is the essence of what I envision – yes," Saku nodded. Delilah looked suitably impressed/scared. I had to wonder how House Anat had lasted as long as it had. Becoming extinct was not even an issue. The last of them had drowned in a lake of enemy blood. Insanely brave until the bitter end.

At the lobby, I picked up Velma and her team, Vincent, Miyako and Selena. Rachel and her squad needed a break. With a trip to Europe coming up, they needed to catch up on their rest and double-check their weapon readiness. I imagined having a little time with their families wouldn't suck either.

"Okay Vincent, let's resolve our little bet," Pamela suggested. Not only was she stripping down the tag-alongs for my journey home, she was cementing her rapport with Javiera's latest offering. I still had two serious problems. I had to find Saku someplace to say. I also had to touch base with Miyako. I took on the second one first, once our ride had exited the garage.

[Nipponese] "How bad is it?" I asked my ninja-acrobat.

[Nipponese] "There is nothing we can talk about," Selena intervened.

[Nipponese] "One of the seven families betrayed the other six, Cáel," Miyako opened up. Selena clearly didn't approve of the revelation.

[Nipponese] "Very well," I mused. "Could two teams of Amazons do you any good when you head home?" I didn't have permission to commit any resources – yet. More to the issue, I was pledging eight women. It may have sounded like miniscule aid, except these were ninjas we were talking about. Small unit tactics were the name of the game. "I also want to send an ambassador and her bodyguard home with you to keep open communications."

Miyako studied me. She didn't have the authority to bring anyone into her very private struggle.

[Nipponese] "As long as they understand the limitations the...seven families operate under. We have agreements with numerous home corporations and security services."

"Understood," I nodded. "Don't forget, you bear an heir to House Ishara with you now."

"What have you done?" Buffy tapped my shoulder.

"I've committed eight members of the Security Detail and Executive Services to aid the Seven Families in their struggle in Japan," I explained.

"House Ishara can meet that obligation," Buffy surprised me.

"Security?" I asked.

"Kohar Marda offered ten of her house guard to help train up our own in-house security," Buffy smirked. "I think I can have four of them doing that training overseas."

"Loyalty and courage will account for more than the skills of the ninja at this time," Miyako bowed.

"Are you and I still heading for my home ground?" Selena inquired.

"How about we head out in two days?" I asked.

"That can be done," she nodded.

"You are a fool," Saku grumbled to me. I returned her stare.

"You are leaving the safety of the ranks of the Host and your own House to seek out...who exactly?" Sakuniyas lectured.

"The lost sons of House Arinniti and...the offspring of Iyrcae of House Illuyankamunus," I enlightened them.

"Who?" Delilah wondered. I looked to Selena.

"They were not one of the First Houses, though the name is Amazon. You may find this oddly coincidental, considering where we plan to go. See, House Illuyankamunus is the only house that does not have a matron deity.

They are Daughters of the Primordial Dragon and the spirit that guards their afterlife is unknown to all but them, the High Priestess and the Keeper of Records."

"We are going to Transylvania to hunt down 'children of the Dragon'?" Delilah snorted.

"Are any going to help us?" Wiesława asked.

"No. House Illuyankamunus only has eight members left, and they are all on missions for the Host, except the Head of House who remains trapped with the Council," I relayed. "Besides, Krasimira suggested to me that they weren't all that interested in any of Iyrcae's brood."

"So why are you locating them then?" Delilah pressed. I paused.

"Women are stupid and need a man to tell them what to do..." I stated. No one spoke. "Okay, that didn't work. How about those men and women need to be aware of their history?"

"The Gods and Goddesses are fucking with you," Saku cut through the propaganda. "Be you Alal, Baraqu, or Cáel, they can't leave you alone." The truth sucks.