CnC World War II

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Natalie Flores

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1 Natalie Flores on Thu May 20, 2010 1:21 pm

The food took fifteen minutes to get to our table. As Duke and Harris accepted their plates I made a quick inspection of my Roumanian Steak. Well done just like I liked it. I looked up at our waiter, Andrew, and he winked at me. I knodded and he smiled. He never gets my steak wrong. That's why we always chose The Cafe off the Falls. Great service, splendid food, and a breathtaking view that makes the trip and the hour wait to be seated morth than worth it.

Andrew left to work his other tables and I set to the task of seasoning and buttering my baked potato. Harris was already decimating his pasta and meatballs. Duke tasted his soup tenatively and then leaned back to let it cool, as was his custom. We'd come here every weekend for the last four months. It was a treat from Duke to Harry to commemorate the new job and Harry deserved it. When he'd come back from the war things were different for him, he was different. He couldn't sleep for a while, then he couldn't go out. When we finally got Harris back to something considered normal Norma had already left him. I know he persued the job just to get Duke off of his back. He asked me to keep my mouth shut and it made our big brother happy so I just enjoyed the weekend get together.

I savored my potato and watched the waters of the Linden and Thomson Rivers crash over the sides of their respective falls before mingling at the base. It was a sight to behold. I chewed and wondered, not for the first time, what Duke thought about while he waited for his soup to reach room temperature. Since childhood he'd been deathly afraid of heights. Harry and I pretend not to notice how tightly he grips the railings that border the bridge that carries us from the mainland to the floating mass of stones that The Cafe rest upon. He insists on sitting at a table that gives us full view of the falls and the drop. He claims not to mind but I can see how wide his pupils get. My respect for him has grown since we've started eating together but I still remember the bully he used to be. I think Harry's tour in the military touched all of us. Duke was devastated by the state in which our brother returned. Harris loves waterfalls.

We ate to the sound of Harry inhaling spaghetti. Everything seemed like another evening at The Cafe off the Falls until she walked over to our table. Now there is walking and there is walking. She moved with a fluidity that was part feline, party dance and all woman. She wasn't the most beautiful member of the oposite sex I'd ever seen but she was the most sexual. She was a thing of curves and suggestion. Every step spoke volumes of sensuality and secret things done in privacy. Her long legs and wide hips were like a metronome that commanded my heart to beat in unison. Duke and I gasped as she stopped in front of us. Harris just kept eating but that was how the new Harris was. He might not have even noticed she was there though I can't imagine how.

She smiled at us and I had the sudden image of a cat smiling down at a dumbstruck mouse.

"Good evening gentlemen. Sorry to interupt your meal. My name is Natalie." she said in the most sexy English accent I've ever heard. "My husband and I have a disagreement and we'd like you to decide who is right."

Tag! Who's next?

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2 Re: Natalie Flores on Mon May 24, 2010 3:04 pm

As Natalie sauntered to our table, I continued to shovel pasta in my mouth, feigning oblivion to her obvious presents. I hated deceiving my brothers in such a manner. Michael and Duke had been so good since I returned. Duke had been a little overbearing, insisting I get a job at the local factory. I had no choice in the matter. To keep up appearances, it had to be done. I'd been acting like the brooding veteran since my return. Thankfully, this new job did lend one benefit by giving us an excuse to gather and eat in our usual spot, giving Natalie the perfect opportunity to entice my brothers.

I tuned out their conversation, her flirtatious word, Michael's seductive tone, and Dukes nervous laughter, I began to think of what it was that must be done. How is it that I had fallen into this situation. Sure, I was a damn good sniper in Afghanistan, but had I known what the war would throw me into, I would have fled to Canada and risked military charges.

I glanced up enough to see Natalie and John, her husband for the night, motioning the waiter to put our tables together. Michael introduced her to me. I nodded uninterested and continued to eat. Natalie was devious. She knew exactly how to handle each situation, how to manipulate any man, woman or child. She had spend most of her childhood and teen years with her hustler of a father, which gave her an edge over anyone she meant.

I knew when The Boss, as I called him, told me he needed Duke's computer skills and Michael's connections that Natalie would be the only one to convince them to join The Organization. Duke was an MIT graduate with an overgrowing business in computer software development. He had just recently landed a very coveted contract job with one of the top security software company in China. Although Duke is very intelligent, he lacks any form of social skills needed to land such a woman.

Michael, however, was a ladies man, and truth be told, a mans man as well. Everyone loved him, regardless of age, status or sexual orientation. He was also a lucrative real estate agent, whose clients included politicians, actors, sports stars, business men from all over the world. He could get The Organization into places The Boss had only dreamed of at this point.

As the coffee began to be poured, Natalie began her web. She spoke of her many businesses and interests, and how she was thinking of streamlining everything and starting her headquarters in our city. She would need a luxury office building with top notch security and all the technology that could be provided. Michael was practically drooling now, and not because her voluptuous breasts were pressed against the table. There were dollar signs in his eyes.

As they all exchanged cards, I excused myself to the restroom. As soon as I stepped in the stall, my phone rang. How did he do this? He knew everything. I snapped the phone open, "Yes.", I said, trying hard to keep the irritation out of my voice.

"Harris, you don't sound happy to hear my voice." he said in his silken, venom filled voice. "I would think you would be grateful. I am giving you the chance of a lifetime here. I am sparing your life and the lives of your family. Please do not think, Harris, that just because you have pushed Norma away, I won't continue with my plans for her. I will."

"What is it I can do for you, Sir?" I said, holding back my animosity." He just laughed, and the line went dead. He did this often. It was his way of letting me know that I am always under his eye.

As I returned to the table, Natalie and John were gone.

Tag to ChaZ

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3 Re: Natalie Flores on Wed May 26, 2010 12:17 am

As my brother rattled to each other excitedly about this chance encounter. all I was able to think about is how this all happened. How can I forget. What happened five years ago in Africa still haunts me to this day.

AFRICA: somewhere in the deep Congo

My new assignment came to me under TOP SECRET orders; like this was my first. I was to meat up with my squad 2 days from now in Vietnam. Upon landing Two obvious plain clothed military personnel greet me saying that Colonel Howell is expecting me.

Great another Brass telling me how I need to die for my country wile he sits on his fat ass reading the paper. The mission was four other solders will meet tomorrow 0500 hours to ship out to Africa were further orders will be given upon arrival.

0501: we were all assembled and ready to ship. Apparently we were given code names Raven, Condor, Crow, Albatross, Hawk. Leave it to the military for originality name. No one spoke much but you can tell that every branch of the military was represented here. Albatross was S.E.A.L., Crow was a Ranger, Hawk a JarHead, Condor was probably Delta and me Raven. This mission was big real big...

TAG YOUR IT! yea you, don't act like you can read this story an not contribute, TAG. Hey don't run away write..

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4 Re: Natalie Flores on Thu May 27, 2010 7:45 pm

Raven, confirm target. Over.

I was starting to dislike Crow. He had this uptight, condescending way of talking to you that rubbed me the wrong way. I'd avoided him for the three weeks the team spent searching and establishing connections. We almost came to blows twice. Once over a woman after too many drinks and again after he let Norma's name slip passed his lips. He said he wondered how my Norma would react to Khili, our African party girl, using me like a stripper pole that needed to be lubricated... If Hawk hadn't tackled me I might have killed him.

Target confirmed. The worm is huddled with four nationals. One looks a lot like Prince Nowadda. Advise. Over

Who he's with doesn't mean shit, Harris! I'm ready to leave this damned jungle country. Line up the shot and wait for my signal.

When Condor told us we'd be paired together for the mission I felt my gut turn ice cold. How was I supposed to do my job when I didn't trust the man that watched my back. I brought this up to our team leader and in one of his moments of candor he let me know that we were there to do a job and not to hold hands. Thusly assured I readied myself for the task at hand. I stopped drinking and stopped seeing Khili. I brought to the forefront that machine that the military had trained me to be. I spent the next two days burying myself deep inside so that I could kill, without emotion or hesitation.

Our target was the brother of Prince Nowadda, a nobody of a man that abstained from any indulgence of the flesh and kept his face buried within the Koran, the Torah and the Bible. Someone thought that if Prince Nowadda, who's position was little more than a heredity title that bestowed tribal status but no real political power, were to ever be replaced by his brother his views would be too dangerous to let take root. I didn't care who Akimbe Nowadda was. I was just a weapon, point and shoot. That was how they trained me.

Albatross tailed him and learned his habits and Condor devised the final plan. It had to look like a local hit no one could point the finger at good old Uncle Sam. Hawk spent his time getting us supplied by the natives including liquor and a little marijuana. Everything was arranged and the right people were paid to ensure that we had a way out of Africa. I was aware of this only in bits and pieces. My world existed within the frame of my scope. Nothing else was real, nothing else mattered.

Hawk drove us to the top of the ridge overlooking the row of buildings that had once been the burgeoning epicenter of a new business center for the region, until rebels blew it to pieces. The Nawadda brothers ate together every night in a small eatery that a local ran out of the husk of one of the old office structures. Crow and I hoofed it through the woods and into the building Condor had chosen as my crow’s nest. I hustled up to the thirteenth floor and Crow was supposed to stay near the ground level. I got into position and focused my sights on the spot where the brothers always sat to enjoy their dinner. It was a small part of me that wondered whether either brother realized that this was their Last Supper.

Call signs, Crow, call signs. I have the target in my crosshairs. Waiting for signal.

It was hard to keep my cool. His every word made me think of the wife I left behind in the states and his sharp jibe about her nights ago… only nights. At the time it might as well have been hours. I willed the machine to take over again and I could ignore the rage burning inside me for a little longer. The seconds ticked by and I controlled by breathing, keeping the Nawadda the Younger clearly in sight. I waited for the signal.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on but we have company Raven. Don’t you move. I’ll check it out. Copy?


I waited and wondered. The Nawadda brothers ate alone with the prince’s bodyguards outside ready to follow him around like loyal dogs. None of our recon showed any variation in their evening habits which was why we chose the eatery as the perfect place for the hit. Maybe one of his highness’ wives had arrived I wondered as I waited.

TAKE THE SHOT! It’s local militia and they don’t look happy. They’re spreading out and searching the empty buildings. Take the shot!

At the back of my mind I could feel his panic but the machine couldn’t panic. I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger and everything slowed. The prince’s bodyguards rushing into the room. A heron landing on the window sill. The prince jumping up in response to the unexpected interruption…

My second shot eliminated Nawadda the Younger. I left the rifle and ran for the rondevous point and hoped that Condor had a plan. With both Nawadda brothers dead there was no telling what the natives would do.

Every great story seems to begin with a snake.

-Nicolas Cage
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5 Re: Natalie Flores on Thu May 27, 2010 7:45 pm


Every great story seems to begin with a snake.

-Nicolas Cage
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6 Re: Natalie Flores on Fri May 28, 2010 3:30 pm

For once, I was a bit happy that I was working in such an undeveloped area. the low roofs of the shanty town made my escape a bit easier. As I made my way towards the LZ, the sounds of kicked in doors and screaming women filled the air. My hand would brush by my pistol ever once in a while and I had to remind myself that these weren't my people to save. eventualy the only sounds in the air were trucks in the distance and my stealthy combat shoes impacting galvanized sheet metal roofs. standing still in the shadow of another building, I tried to contact our transport helicopter.

"Hunter 2-1, this is Raven, making my way back to the LZ, over." Silence greeted my call. "Repeat, Hunter 2-1 this is Raven, come in." I pressed the vocal band on my throat harder and tried command. "Falcon's nest, this is Raven, No responce from Hunter 2-1, SitRep request?" The silence made me think all was lost. I went to the side of the building i was on and began to climb down to the street using a water pipe. Moving to the adjacent building's corner, i pulled out my M9 and pulled back the chamber. The screams and shouts in the night were moving to catch up with me again. I put a silencer on my pistol and peered around the corner. I didn't pull my face back in time. A convoy of militiamen we're driving by quite slowly with a spotlight looking for people like me. I softened my breathing and listened as they dismounted the truck. across the mud covered street, a long and narrow alleyway was calling my name. Their feet were splashing in the fresh muck. Three inhilations later, i turned and ran.
My pistol was facing them; their Kalashnikovs at me. squeezing the trigger as fast as possible, I heard two screams...then screamed out myself. The searing pain of the 7.62 round made me run fast and with more haste. I heard them rounding the corner into the alley and i looked for somewhere to turn off. I ran past homes with people eating dinner, sleping, and reading. All I heard was their footsteps and my own. I saw a door that was closed over and focused on it just as they began to shoot. I ran and turned to shoulder rush the door and a bullet bearley grazed my nose as i hit the metal panel. Time was slowed again as i saw a man, five feet away, in a chair reaching for a gun on his table. their was no chance of escape; my USMC gear was to articulated to be brush off as simple costume dress. our eyes met for an instant. His suprise matched mine. With my wounded ar close to my chest, I pulled up my pistol and fired. his eyes went different directions as the bullet made a cavity of his skull. the bone and flesh painted the world red, but there was no time for anyone to enjoy the art. I winced through the pain and used my bad arm to sling his AK over my shoulder. I made my way to the front of the house only to find a mother and her son huddled together on the living room floor. If the machine had full control, they would have been long gone by now. i pulled back just enough to not execute them both right there.

I moved to the front door and kicked it open only to find the street buzzing with civilians. I shot into the air twice and the crowd began to scatter. looking around for a new route to go, i found a dark and seemingly abandoned dwelling. Another truck full of armed soldiers rounded the corner as i ran towards the house. firing to rounds into the window, the wooden frame gave way as i jumped through the opening. I collided with a wooden chair as i landed but the adrenaline got me back up. I saw two doors; one led outside and another seemd to be a closet. the truck was coming closer. I kicked open the back door and then jumped into the closet. Sitting on the cold dirt floor, I calmed my breathing and listened. When all was quiet, I began to move. outside it was windy and the air was being penetrated by the fall of rain. the wet season's offerings made it easier to move unnoticed too.

I looked down at the display of my wrist mounted field computer. it was covered in streams of my own blood, but that was the least worry; in the rush of survival i just finished, I hadn't noticed it had been shot. As i gazed at the hole, I began to feel fatigued by the loss of blood. Looking around again, i saw yet another abandoned home. this one actually looked furnished. I went in and pulled a wooden stoll over to one of the tables that weren't overturned. I pulled off my backpack and rummaged through it to find the supplies for my would. soon after, i pulled out the quickclot powder, bandages, morphine and tweezers. the bullet didn't go completely through so i had to take it out. after injecting the area with the morphine, I bit down on the bandages and pulled it out. the dark grey quickclot power burned like a unclean bitch, but it was better than bleeding. I pulled of the damaged comuter and tossed it into a wall. It flickered on for a second or so, then died again.

"Hello, Raven." The voice over the comm shocked me.


"What are we going to do with you now, Logan?" Something was wrong, we never used our real names over any lines.

"Who is this? Falcon's Nest? Hunter 2-1?" There was silence for a few seconds.

"Such failure. Our president and the United States Marine Core will have to deny this action. Your family will be told you died valiantly; the whole flag to your family and 21 gun salute too."

"You can't do this! My field of view was obscured! How was I supposed to know the Militia would flip out lik-"

"We can't do this!? WE CAN'T DO THIS!? We are in control of the strongest military force the world has every known. we control everything that happens. If we fall, everything falls. We are teh goddamned United States of America! We choose not to play God because it's less work for us! Your failure will be met by death, that is all. We are all Marines, so I'll be seeing you in hell."

The line went dead. Outside of the window I heard propellers spinning. I grabbed my gun and ran for the back door. i didn't know where i was going, but i had to leave that area.

"Falcon's Nest, this is Hunter 2-1 Actual, Hellfires locked on enemy combatants wrist GPS. Executing Fire Mission. Fox 3, Fox 3."

I was barely 30 feet away when the missles hit. The shockwave dashed through the houses and knocked me out. Pieces of wood, metal, and flesh were thrown into the air from the explosion. I was lifted off of the ground and flung into one of the houses near by. My vision was triple, the ringing disoriented me, and the pain immobilized me. I faintly heard the dropship pulling away.

"Falcon's Nest, This is Hunter 2-1, Target has been neutralized. We're Oscar Mike."

I heard the voice again. "Confirmed. Come on back home...thats one less loose end."

Crawling into the nearest house, i tried to right myself on one of the walls, but passed out instead.

"Don't shoot him, He...quite valuable."

"I could just wound away"

"He won' go."

A man in a grey business suit was crouching in front of me. His hands held the vile of smelling salts that woke me up. He tapped my face lightly.

"I need you to be up for this. I have a job for you."

Oh yeah, *pew, pew*- Laser Tag!

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7 Re: Natalie Flores on Fri May 28, 2010 11:28 pm

"Shit!! Shit!! Shit!!" As tears filled my palms with my face buried in my hands. It has been almost a week, Harris has been in this damn coma. That entire night at The Cafe on the Falls had "strange" written all over it. First the woman of all men dreams comes up to our table, she offers us an opportunity of a lifetime, and then this.

After he came from the restroom and sat down, everything seemed normal. Suddenly he just started babbling about birds; ravens, hawks and crows. Then he just stopped and went face first into what was left of his pasta. I pulled his head out of his dinner and started screaming for help. The ambulance came 11 minutes and 42 seconds later, it felt like an eternity.

I was panicked and the doctors weren't telling me anything. Michael was no help, he probably still had titties and duckets on the brain. Nevermind that our brother could be dying. Myself being the oldest and Michael the youngest, there always seemed to be some tension between us. He felt I was too protective, that I worried too much. Well this is a damn good time to worry! Harris, he was the glue that held us all together, it was good to finally have him back home.

I've been by his side the whole time, Michael has been in and out, I heard him mention having a meeting with Natalie. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, when I looked up I saw one the elderly nurses staring back at me. I was sitting near one of the vending machines in the hallway, seeing him lie there almost motionless was becoming too much for me. "Is your name Duke, Duke Logan" she asked in a carribbean accent I could barely understand. "Yes." I replied while I was drying my eyes trying regain my composure. "It's about your brother, he-" I jumped up so fast I almost knocked her to the ground. "Sir. Sir. Calm down, your brother he is awakening."

By the time I reached his room I was out of breath and it was filled with doctors. They never figured out what put him in this state, so I'm guessing they were even more surprised at his recovery. They all left one by one reassuring me that he was fine. I had so many questions but for now I was just enjoying the fact that Harris was alive. But something was wrong, he didn't seem like a man happy to be amongst the land of living. I pulled up a chair next to the head of the bed and sat down. He started to speak but in whispers like he didn't want anyone to overhear. "I have to tell you, I have you tell you everything." At that moment my phone started to ring but I didn't recognize the ringtone. I had completely forgotten I had Harris' cellphone. "Someone has perfect timing." I joked. I gently placed his phone in his hand and when he look at the caller, I could smell the fear as Harris soiled himself.

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8 Re: Natalie Flores on Sat May 29, 2010 1:24 am

I could hear him flipping that damn Zippo all the way from the bathroom. I hate smokers. The taste of stale tobacco on my tongue only added to my irritation with this jackass. As I leaned my hands onto the sink to examine my make-up, I thought, “Millicent, you cannot repeat the London incident. Simon needs this one” I laughed a little. Even though I had been Natalie for 7 years now, I still addressed myself with my birth name.

As I adjusted the bustier, my aggravation intensified. It has been a week since Harris had ruined everything. His brothers had been so easy to pull into the web. All it took was a sexy walk, a fake accent, and a low cut dress. Tits won every time. Suckers. Then Harris had flipped out and landed himself in LaLa Land. So, here I am again, fucking some boring, brain dead pawn to keep Simon happy.

As I zipped my leather thigh highs, my mind drifted to London. That night had been one of the best. Nelson had actually been a great lay. Simon had put me onto him just the night before. He was a dirt bag, but one of the biggest cocaine suppliers in all of London. We'd partied all night. Faking the cocaine intake was hard with this one, but luckily I had plenty of practice at faking.

By the end of the night he was so deep in me, I could feel him in my stomach. No false moans were needed with this one. He was working it so hard, all I could do was whimper and beg him not to stop. Then he made the wrong decision. As his hand wrapped around my face, my heart began to race, and not from passion. He took the dilation of my pupils as a sign of fear and it only encouraged him. “That’s right, Poppet. I’ve got you now.” he said as he began to fuck me harder.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. No man had grabbed me in this manner since my father, and that bastard had actually broken my jaw that night. “Take it Millicent. Take it for Daddy.” I heard it repeat in my head over and over as this English bastard squeezed harder. The rage was building, but I managed to get out one word of warning. “Stop!” This only made him squeeze and fuck harder.

I had him flipped to his back before he knew what had happened. “Oh, Poppet.” He groaned. “You want to be in charge?” I could feel the heat in my chest threatening to split it open. “Yeah, baby.” I moaned. The excitement of my actions had me on the edge of ecstasy. I put my hand up to my hair to let it loose, and as my sharpened hair chop stick pierced his jugular and the blood began to squirt all over my chest and face, I let loose my deepest moan as I felt my body explode.

After I’d finished with him, I looked down at his mutilated body, his balls in my hand and his blood smeared all over my tits and told his vacant eyes, “I said stop. Bastard.”

I came back to the present with the loud SNAP of the Zippo. “Millicent, Simon needs this one. Calm down.” I told myself. I examined my reflection, and even I had to admit, I was so damn sexy. Then I heard my phone buzz. As I read the text, a smile crept to my plump red lips. The message read, “Harris is awake. Take out the trash.” I grabbed my favorite silk bondage rope, checked my boots for my dagger, and stepped out of the bathroom.

As his eyes hit me, I could see his dick harden. “Come on, Stud. I’ve got a game for us to play now.” I said. I was wet just from the anticipation of his screams…

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9 Re: Natalie Flores on Mon May 31, 2010 11:22 pm

Harvey Canter was a low life scum sucking outlaw who was internationally connected. This guy was so fucking important he had others shake his dick after pissing. Harvey, HOW THE FUCK DID HE FIND OUT! The game has changed, I need to rewrite the rules now that he is involved.

Stage one get those brothers on board pronto!
Two get that bitch Natalie to set up a meeting with Rauf
Three ......Huh?!?
Whats that?

Sir, Sir we have an emergenc.... BLAM BLAM !

NO interruptions! I need to think here damb it. Hmmm, he was a good soldier and will be missed. Now were was I yes stage Three.

Stage Three Call....What NOW? miss fire. Report what is the fucking emergency? Soldier stop crying its only a stomach wound.




Simon we have company...........

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10 Re: Natalie Flores on Thu Jun 03, 2010 5:46 pm

I awakened to the shock of cold water hitting my face. I gasped for air and my senses reeled. The last thing I remembered was an explosion and excruciating pain. There was a grey suit that looked more expensive than my parent’s home and a nondescript man with eyes sharper and more piercing than a bird of prey. Even as I tried to make sense of it all my thoughts kept coming back to ravens, ravens and a stranger who I knew to be an African prince. Where was I and why did my arms ache so much. I tried to focus my eyes and my thoughts as a man moved into the cone of harsh light beaming down from the ceiling.

His expressionless face looked into me and through me. His small form was slightly bent with age and bore the coloration of generations in the Mediterranean. He could have passed for middle eastern or East Indian easily. His shirt hung partly out of his pants and sweat stains rode under his arms. His breathing was steady and his hands were the strongest hands I’d ever seen. I knew what he was without any prompting. I’d met men like him. They’d trained me to do what it was he did.

“Mr. Logan, I’m glad you’ve decided to join us.” He was definitely Middle Eastern. “We were growing impatient. You’re not much of a conversationalist”

“Wh… Who are… you?” I wheezed. My throat was dry and my voice sounded hoarse and foreign. I must have been restrained, I could tell that the pain in my arms were from the way they were chained above my head, for a long time.

“You have an interesting ability there, Mr. Logan. I’ve never seen a controlled Dissociative Identity held in check by a mental wall.” He moved closer and I could see that this man was blind. Scars around his eyes told of subtle work, probably surgery, done to Eyes. He leaned close to me ear and whispered. “Very interesting.”

“Who are you?” I coughed out. I needed something to focus on and the identity of my captor was as good as any.

He moved back to the center of the light and clapped his hands twice. I could hear a squeaking noise as a cart was wheeled into view. I studied the surgical instruments on the table and saw my suspicions revealed. The unnamed blind man was some kind of interrogator. I readied my nerves for what would definitely come. I found myself hoping that his art was learned in a country that asked questions as they turned the screws instead of the other type. The type that tried to break before the real questions came. I steeled my nerves and was ready for anything the tiny Arab could produce… except for the sight of the beautiful, chocolate hued dancer that pushed the cart.

Khili and the infidelity she represented were far from my mind in the dark room. Anger rose up and spread through my veins as realization began to set in. Something had gone wrong. I hadn’t seen Crow in my mad run from the sight of the assassination and here was the woman that he and I had shared, the same woman who proclaimed her love to me night after night in the throes of passion. I wondered whether that bastard had betrayed the team. Where was the team? Had Uncle Sam saw it necessary to erase them as well? What role did she play in all of this.

“What the fuck is going on Khili?” I rasped. She looked at the small man and turned her back to me. “Don’t turn your back on me… WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” My dry throat forced me into a fit of wracking coughs that left me swinging from my wrist in the darkness.

I coughed until my eyes watered. I felt familiar hands stop me and the African Table Dancer wiped my eyes. The goblin of a man watched from his cart as he set instruments aside. She whispered something in her native tongue into my ear and he chuckled as if he could hear her every word.

“I’m beginning to understand you, Mr. Logan. It seems that under most stresses your auxiliary persona takes over but specific stimuli keep you in the here and now. As I said, very interesting.” He approached with a scalpel and gently nudged Khili aside. She again turned her back and moved off into the dark. I wanted to say something, I tried to say something but the words were lost as his blade sliced into my skin. I screamed out… and… I…

At some point they’d removed my clothes and dressed my wounds. The cone of light was closer but I was still in the dark room. I could feel the walls in that way that you can tell when you’re in open space and when you’re confined with eyes closed. My mind began to muddle through what I knew about my situation. The mission wasn’t a complete failure, Nawadda the Younger was dead but Prince Nawadda the tribal leader of the local people was also dead. The United States Government had severed all ties and presumably dealt with all loose ends including trying to kill me and the other operatives of Operation White Falcon. I was being held captive by an independent party and knew something they wanted to know or I’d be dead already. I clung to that last thought because it was my only lifeline. Strangely, Khili’s face and not my wife Norma’s was the one that came to my head. Part of me felt that she was in as much trouble as I was.

A door opened and closed and I could hear someone approaching me from behind. I fought back the urge to turn and hung loosely. Panic wasn’t going to save me. I could feel The Machine vying for control but I pushed it back. Death was all The Machine knew, I could think… if I had to. And I had to.

What I expected was the small Arab Goblin again but what I saw was a creature made of dreams. She was tall and sinewy with an ass that made my body react in a very primal way. She wore a pair of black tights that ended in a set of army issue boots. Her skin was tanned in a decidedly Latin way and the motion of her hips was definitely inspired by the islands. Her ample chest was carelessly cradled in a white t-shirt that struggled in vain to keep her body in check. Those breasts held me entranced and for a moment I could forget that I was a prisoner and that my death was a very real possibility. But only for a moment. My eyes struggled but eventually forced their way up to meet hers and the sparkling orbs that greeted me were even more hypnotizing than her stunning body.

We shared an instant, a mere second of recognition. She could see a man desperately clinging to anything that could save him even the distraction of a beautiful woman. I could see a predator, a woman fully aware of the effect her every contour had on men and was willing to use that knowledge to get what she wanted. Mentally I pushed away from her overpowering feminine wiles. The look on her face said that she could sense me attempting to run. Her expression softened but her eyes held a bit of reticence and then they too softened.

She came towards me and I tensed, not sure what to expect. She grabbed my manhood and before the shock of her sudden action could sink in she had me fully in her mouth. My head spun, first in confusion and then in rapture. When I exploded I was little more than sweaty meat hanging from the chains around my wrist. She looked into my eyes and smiled. She moved into the darkness like a hunting cat and returned with a cigarette and lighter. She placed the cig in my mouth and lit me up. I took a long pull and she took a long drag of her own.

“You’ve become a real thorn in Dr. Maher’s side.” she said in a seductive voice that was nearly a purr. “The Boss has a timetable and your constant resistance to the doctor’s methods are making things difficult. So I was brought in.” She gave me another pull. “I’m to convince you to cooperate, one way or another. The Boss will have what he wants.”

“W… what does he want?” I asked. Continued disuse was ruining my voice.
“He wants you to do things that go against everything you believe in. He wants you to betray your country. However you seem to be able to resist the doctor’s subtle prodding. I was asked to show you that there are two ways that your assistance can be obtained. My way, fun and a little messy ending with everyone happy.” Her hand playing along my exposed nipple accentuated her words. “And Dr. Maher’s way, painful, very messy and scarring… I can see from your reaction down there that you’d prefer my way.”

There came the squeaking call of that cart and behind it was the blind doctor. He was there the entire time. He brought up his scalpel and joined the woman at my side.

“Natalie, before we lose this opportunity I’d like to test my theory.” And with those words he began to cut once again. My screams seemed to encourage him and excite her. He stared through me, horrific smile etched on her face. “As I suspected. With the right encouragement your other persona is unable to surface. Maybe now I can make some headway.”

For what seemed like months they took turns. Natalie broke down my defenses and Maher broke my mind. In the end I gave in just to make it all stop… then The Boss made his appearance.

I answered the phone and just hearing Dr. Maher’s voice made my muscles ignore my commands. The look on Duke’s face in that hospital room was supporting but too little, too late.

Every great story seems to begin with a snake.

-Nicolas Cage
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11 Re: Natalie Flores on Wed Apr 03, 2013 5:18 pm

I never considered myself smart, until I started solving easy problems that people were having. When I was in middle school, I was exceeding the high scores of our school valedictorian. The school board felt that I should be the valedictorian, but I had no interest in being the head of anything. I like to be that person out of the spotlight, but also have my name in the credits. I started to lower my scores on purpose to stay away from the attention. However, my natural reaction to a wrong answer or a bad explanation given by someone other than myself had me, instantly correcting and explaining how to do it correctly. It was a bad habit for someone trying not to have eyes on him and it had brought me unwanted attention. Sometimes adults would come to me asking non-school related questions to see how I would respond. At first, I thought it was an honor, but then I soon realized that they were there to humor me. I turned bitter, and completely anti-social shortly after. It was not too hard to stay away from other people or stay quiet in a room full of people. Most people ignored me cause they thought I was a “know it all”, quite frankly I enjoyed others looking away from me. Others spent time talking to their friends, or friends of friends. Personally, it gave me time to worry about things I care about like science and my personal favorite the human mind.

As I studied to myself, I always noticed that there was on peculiar girl staring in my direction. At first, I paid her no mind but she kept looking. For weeks, I would notice her eyes in my direction and I was getting sick of it. Knowing that eyes were watching you was nauseating. I started pulling myself away from my new biology book, because I could not focus. I then closed my book hard, and as threatening as I possibly could make my way over to her. She turned away as though her eyes never crossed my path. I almost lost my nerve when I reached her desk, but I said, “Is there something I can help you with?” in my most sarcastic, venomous voice, I can muster. However, it sounded like a boy that just broke into his voice. She replied with the cutest voice, “You interest me” without even turning her head to greet me. Confused about her answer for a moment, she did not even give me a second to reply. Her closed eyes opened normally and met with mine, I was captivated, bewitched, fascinated, charmed and completely spellbound. With a curve of her lips she confirmed that I was easily caught me in her web without much effort. As beautiful as her eyes was they had a maturity about them, as if they have seen things that they should not have at her age. Little did I know that this same girl would be someone close to me in the near future. Even more as a kid, I always wondered why I could be out-played so easily. I have to say that this young diva was the reason I wanted to study psychology. In a way she made me the monster I am today.

From the sixth grade on, I would speak with her everyday. I noticed that she always remained strong focused, and had a certain appeal about her when she is in the public. In private, she is the same but a little more relaxed and I am glad that I can witness the different girl who can smile and tell jokes. Do not mistake me for a social person at that time, nothing changed except me wanting to know HER. I can actually say it is a first, me being interested in someone else, who did not live with me. My parents usually left me at home; their line of work has them traveling frequently. At times, I would not see my parents for months on end, but I had the apartment to myself. Sometimes SHE would drop by for a visit. She always needed a place to crash, because of the problems in her household. Not once has she told me what was going on, neither did I ask. It was her business and it was not my place to pry... One night she came over crying, I looked at her for the very first time that night. She ran through the door and right into my arms, the only thing I could do was hold her. She was shaking uncontrollably; I was a little scared myself. I had to ask her what was wrong and that is when she told me she was moving away with her father the day after tomorrow. I could not believe it, why did he just tell her now. I could not bear the thought of loosing my only friend.

“Do you want to stay with me?” I said. She looked at me with confusion, parted her lips and said “yes”. I noticed when she stopped shaking that she had suitcases of clothes and belongings. I helped her put them inside the door, she said “thank you, my hero” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. For many minutes after it was all I could think about. That was the first contact I had with a female outside my family, it felt great. I got her some ice cream and her favorite movies that I had and we sat down on the couch and watched them for a while. We said nothing to each other for a couple of hours, I had begun to get tired, and I noticed she fell asleep. I picked her up and carried her to my room I took off her shoes and put her under the sheets. When I walked away she grabbed my hand and asked me to stay, I did. As I lay next to her, she rolled over to me and buried her face in my chest. Most of what she said then, I could barely understand. It sounded like thank you, and I need you. Something changed inside me I felt different; I felt a phenomenon higher than my comprehension was occurring. I embraced her and she let me. I kissed her and she kissed me back. I told her I will give her the world and she said she wants to share it with me. We made love that night. It was our first experience I wish I had someone teach me about it before hand, because she bled and I thought I had hurt her. She explained it was ok, and for hours she moaned, screamed, and said my name. The passion gave me the rise I needed, and we continued for the next two days. She told me she loved me and I loved her too. I could remember that was the first time I called her by her name Natalie…

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