by Cara Charles
Charlene turned off everything then, slapped her cousin on every bit of exposed flesh. Twisting his nipples woke him up. “Shit’s just arrived. Zip up! Captain’s here.”
The Captain’s SUV rolled up.
“Where am I?” Chips woke up with a start. “Shit! What happened? God! My head!”
“Think! The glass blew out both tires and your radio is busted. You’ll get fired unless you come up with something! Forget it, drooler. Just wake up, let me handle this,” Charlene said swinging her bubble butt back to the Captain’s SUV. “Good morning, Captain. McQueen broke down last night, and has been waiting to be found. Seems the radio even gave up on him. Bad luck comes in threes they say, and this very cruiser was even in the shop last week.”
“Un huh,” the Captain said as a sleepy McQueen waddled a few steps, his morning erection uncooperative. Finally, he could pee and peed like a racehorse.
Chips slowly zipped his fly over eternally happy Mr. Happy and together they waddled toward their Captain’s SUV.
The Captain thought, ‘this McQueen family is definitely over-sexed.’
Charlene put her hands on her hips and motioned to his full crotch, ‘Like, can’t you get rid of that thing?’ her big eyes glaring at Mr. Happy.
Chips shook his head, no. Chips knew he was in trouble.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN -- OVERLOAD
MAVRA WOKE UP with a start. She shook Dimitri awake.
“D? Have the pilot change directions. Joseph would head home to Warm Springs, where his mother is from. He’ll be the one to tell us what we want to know. The Macmillan woman is a decoy.”
Mavra opened her hand. She held a full syringe.
Dimitri laughed. “Clever, girl.” He went to tell the pilot.
Mavra put the full syringe on her tray table, and went back to sleep, smiling, as the pilot entered the coordinates for the small Roosevelt Memorial Airport into the autopilot computer and the elegant plane slowly turned toward its new destination.
Dimitri texted Carlos. ‘Change in plans. Fly into Warms Springs, GA.’
Carlos responded. ‘Copy. ETA Roosevelt Memorial. 2hrs.’
What was at stake for Mavra was not arrest. She paid lawyers for such things, besides no one was alive to tell the tale. Mavra could imagine her face on the cover of Forbes, Time and Newsweek, the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Chicago Tribune, the L.A. Times, San Francisco Chronicle, the Seattle Times, the Seattle P.I., and Business Week, as the number one billionaire in the world. They’d interview her on Mad Money and CNBC. Financial reporters would sing her praises for having turned her family fortune into a “good thing” like some billionaires presume, when many are just mouthpieces for other corporations who are polluting the Third World at an alarming rate. She wanted to be respected and graduate from those self-indulgent offspring, media poser, entertainment, news-hog types to being thought of as “good.” This African woman would be her ticket to financial fame, power, and respect. She’d rule the world, Queen of Everything. All this risk, all this collateral, she’d prove was absolutely worth it and would pay off hugely.
‘If you find her, she’s still only a rumor of an old legend.’ She reminded herself.
Hours later, Mavra’s jet landed on the small Warm Springs mountain runway.
The pilot asked, “is there anything we can get you or your guest Ms. Kimirov before we de-plane and refuel the plane and ourselves? And… are we still on for Zurich?”
“Still on for Zurich. We’ll be bringing one more guest. Go on ahead. We’re fine.”
The pilot, the co-pilot, and male cabin attendant headed for the FBO.
A Blue Chevy van was waiting. Dimitri went to talk with the van driver. Dimitri checked the four Sig P228s he had the guy buy. D saw the landing lights of an approaching small business jet about two miles out, on final.
Sid said to Iain, “Surely that’s them down there. Got any ideas?”
“Take them in the woods outside of town? Bury them there?” Iain said.
“Iain, I can’t imagine it but our backs are against the wall. Sid? Someone else is in the pattern. Their backup? The timing is certainly right,” Dez said as she saw the other plane behind them, with their landing lights on.
Sid and Iain paid attention to their own landing, “We’ll lay low. They don’t know us.”
When they hit the ground, Dez came into the cockpit as they taxied toward the terminal.
“Well boys? There’s a van waiting. He’ll have the guns and surely there are guns in the plane behind us,” Dez said. “Trevor’s close by. Your thoughts, Iain?”
“We’re outflanked, Dear. She and Dimitri are extremely resourceful. We probably know most of who is coming in behind us,” Iain nodded. “I say, we must connect with Trevor, Kate and their team, hide the Asset and Joseph, then have a fire fight in the open woods, where we can bury them, then take the Asset and Joseph the hell away from here.”
Sid added, “I concur. This is ‘guns and grits’ country. They won’t think a thing of our firefight. They’ll think we’re local weekend warriors.”
“Agreed.” Dez went back to her seat as they pulled passed the terminal.
The METAPHOR jet continued to taxi out of the way.
Dimitri wondered about them as his instincts stirred for half a second as he exited the terminal talking on the phone to Carlos and his inbound team, landing now. That St. Christopher’s medal had spooked him.
Iain and Sid covered their heads with caps, turned their collars up, walked a little differently when they got out, placed their fuel order with the fuel truck. They went into the FBO office to get coffee, file their outbound flight plans and shoot the shit with her pilots, while the METAPHOR team waited until the van disappeared.
Dez’s phone rang. She’d been looking at Mavra’s team through her binoculars. She sighed, as she shook her head.
It was Trevor, “I’m parked at the white antebellum house with a ‘for sale’ sign just outside the airport. Four guys in a van are waiting. You waiting on that inbound plane?”
“Kimirov’s plane is on deck, maybe her backup is inbound. Our old friend D plays for her team now. So sorry, Trevor. Let me know if you find a suitable place for an outdoor pit B.B.Q. bash, somewhere in the country.” Desiree said, flatly.
“Sad to hear that. And yes ma’am,” T sighed.
“I’ll be back to you soon. Out.”
Trevor looked at Kate who had her phone out already looking for that place in the woods in which to lure Mavra and her kill squad.
“Both planes and the van? That’s a huge opposing team,” Kate said.
Trevor nodded, looking out the window, feeling so betrayed.
Kate kissed his palm, “No worries. We got this. Let’s lure them to the cabin, where we have team B,” she said looking into his sad, but determined eyes.
Trevor kissed her on the mouth and went back to looking outside. The reality Dimitri had turned, made his stomach jump up in his throat.
‘Had D been the guy he couldn’t ID at Amanda’s grave? I have to kill an old friend.’ Trevor texted Dez Kate’s plan, ‘Lure them to the cabin. They are after Joseph.’
Dez cc’d Sid and Iain. ‘Sadly, perhaps. Only someone like D.Vega could have planned such a strategy.’
Inside the FBO Sid answered his text. ‘Agreed. Go to locale. Stop D.V.’ He and Iain, wearing new Georgia Bulldogs caps, and big sunglasses got back on the plane before the newly arrived jet taxied in.
“They’ve filed for Zurich. We filed for Reagan, once airborne we’ll get a new plane at Reagan and be on our way to Zurich, behind them.”
Dez was tense as she told Sid, “My detour didn’t work.”
Sid kissed her. “We’ll be victorious, my love. Initially it must have. She’s just an expert strategist. So far it’s paying off for her.”
Trevor popped in his Dire Straits CD, then selected “Sultans of Swing” but decided against playing it with D out there. He took out his powerful telescopic camera
with computer feed.
Kate got out her rifle as they watched the arriving jet, taxi in and shut down. Their METAPHOR guys and the new Kimirov team chewed the same dirt in the same sandbox once upon a Desert war or two.
The backup team’s passenger door opened. Men got off.
Kate counted.
Trevor clicked away. The computer running the face recognition software analyzed who these dudes were. He glanced at the screen as it indicated a match. All former UN Forces turned private security, many of Dimitri’s mates.
“One, traitor Carlos Rodriquez.” Spanish mercenary, former UN Forces 2001-2007.
“Geezus fucker two, Kenny Smithe-Jones.” Aussie Ranger, 1999. AWOL 2007.
Kate looking through her scope and saw him, said, “God. Not Kenny, too?”
Trevor looked at Kate and his team. “Can’t whine about it. You know this happens even to the best. They swap their souls for money, goals, and appreciation they can measure. Carlos and Kenny are their number two and three ground game guys.”
“Jesus, T? It’s Carlos and Kenny. How are we going to kill them and D?”
“If they shoot first. Kill or be killed. You know this. If you get face to face with them, give them a chance. They sold out for dirty money. Money, Love. When you get sentimental, they get to choose your death. Believe me. They won’t give a stinking piss about you when they’re sipping their Coronas on a Costa Rican beach. They’ll drink a beer to you sob sisters, but they’ll laugh all the way to the bank, and you’ll still be very dead.”
“You’re talking our language now, T.”
“Ya. Perspective is a powerful wake up call. Thanks man.”
Trevor forwarded the list to Dez and Shanti and his B team.
The METAPHOR guys soberly watched the arriving team.
Elise woke up and looked out the window.
Dez pulled her away, and shut her shade. “No darling, they’re right outside.”
“So our plan didn’t work.”
“Oh, but it did. We’ve got Mavra Kimirov right where we want her,” Dez smiled weakly. All their lives hung in the balance. She could not smile about that.
“These IDs just in, from Trevor. Look these faces over, while I notify Janitor.” Dez handed her I-Pad to Sid and used her phone to forward Trevor’s recon to Janitor.
‘Big Party. Moving to your locale in 12+ hrs. Prep staff. Will keep advised. Dear out.’
Janitor texted back. ‘We will b ready.’ Janitor turned to his guest. “ETA, about twelve hours. How confident are you?” Janitor asked him.
Old Dr. Titus smiled, “We will be ready for them and especially their guest.”
Dr. Titus was getting stress relief from petting a lab rabbit.
Janitor plugged in his I-pod selecting Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing” completed his text messages then, gathered his gear as his team ‘copied’.
Fat, happy, now drug free pet bunnies hopped out of the way in Janitor’s apartment.
Trevor, Kate, and their team watched D and Mavra get into their SUV. Carlos, Kenny, and team drive off in the large rented Blue Chevy van, the other Escalade following with Mavra and Dimitri inside.
Trevor waited a bit then drove to the airport, and picked up his METAPHOR Command team.
Desiree walked Elise over to Trevor and Kate. Trevor shook Elise’s hand. Kate hugged her and showed her Mavra’s photo. The guys offered their condolences. Kate and Trevor recognized the look of a soldier on adrenalin high.
“We are so saddened by the loss of your family, Ms. Andersen.”
“Dear Elise. We want you to know, just in case no one has told you, you are our hero,” Kate said holding Elise’s hand then she put her arm around her.
“Thank you, Kate. It is a higher calling to dedicate our lives to a grander purpose. Our enemy is greed. Like never before greed corrupts completely. So we stand together, united in purpose, to protect the most incredible natural phenomena our world has ever known. If we don’t protect her, we are not worthy of this beautiful life we take for granted. I know my husband and daughter would have willingly given their lives to protect hers, as I so willingly give mine to protect and serve. Kate? Will you teach me how to shoot, someday?”
Kate gripped Elise’s shoulder. “Any time. Any time at all.”
Dez said to her team and Sid, “Let’s go meet our asset.”
The METAPHOR team drove for miles into the hilly countryside, Trevor knowing the way. He didn’t use his GPS for security reasons. Trevor called in to Antonia “Tony” Hernandez, who was in position in camo, dug in.
Tony was another dead eyed female, fellow U.S. Army Vet/LRRP, a LONG RANGE RECONNAISSANCE PATROL sniper from OIF Operation Iraqi Freedom II, second in command of the Second East Coast/Southern Team.
They pulled onto a dirt road.
“ETA is two minutes. Large white ten pass van. Georgia plates. 2DFTGEW.”
“Copy.” Tony said, spreading the word on her headset.
“2DFTGEW on ten pass van, passing us now,” the most forward sentries walkied Tony.
The van passed their station.
Then the mile marker sentries, notified Tony.
Then the two hundred yard sentries.
The perimeter sentries reported in.
The Northwest METAPHOR Command chapter had arrived at a mountain cabin.
The East Coast METAPHOR’s Team B’s van was out front.
Total METAPHOR boots on the ground, twenty.
Joseph came out onto the porch with an armed escort.
Behind him, Shanti ran down the steps to their arriving van, “Elise my darling girl, where are you?” Shanti said searching the windows.
“Shanti. Shanti!” Elise started to cry. “Let me out!”
They watched the tall and beautiful African American woman with striking golden eyes, and beautiful hair look in the van windows. No one was breathing.
Dez smiled. ‘Shanti hadn’t aged a day.’ She smiled at Sid as tears welled in her eyes.
Elise jumped out. She ran into Shanti’s arms, crying.
Shanti kissed her face, “My darling, my darling girl. My darling, brave girl.”
“Shanti, Shanti…” Elise was too overwhelmed to speak.
“My God, she’s perfect,” Mac said.
Dez said, “Yes, she is.”
Sam was dumbstruck as they all were, then after several moments his memory had worked it out, he recognized Shanti, “Oh my God!”
Elise’s fragile heart had known what she had yearned for all these years, what she had buried to survive in the adult world, why she dedicated herself to righting the wrongs for the voiceless. She’d wanted to erase her own pain. Her heart, the firm and committed conductor of her life’s path, guided her to her life’s mission, ‘to reduce and eliminate pain, anyone’s pain, anything’s pain.’
Elise had many accomplishments in this realm in which to be proud. The world was a kinder, less painful a place due to Elise’s and Sam’s work and dedication.
But just for now, Elise would indulged her wounded heart. She’d let go of all the emotional checks and balances, all of the mental detours when the dark side reached out to claim her, all the crossroads that tempted her, all of the negative self-talk, all of the emotional editing, to indulge her injured inner child, to be a trusting broken hearted child once again in the shelter of Shanti’s empowering, healing love, yearning to feel safe, yearning to begin the healing, yearning to be loved, and to completely trust in that love.
Their moment was overwhelming as Elise let go.
Years of pain, loss and loneliness came pouring out, Elise was permitting her heart to acknowledge the senseless loss of her family, who had completed her and healed her, and kept the ugly voices away. Tom, Lara, and Boogie, they were gone forever. Forever in this pain, was a very long, lonely road. She began to wail for all her losses, for the gratitude of being together again, for the long, lost, and wandering love, she had held for Shanti.
Shanti knew and she simply rock
ed away her pain. “Ellie. I’m so very sorry,” Shanti whispered barely getting the words out.
Shanti was unable to speak any further, flooded with regret, fighting the smothering weight of it, feeling her loss, feeling Elise’s long term pain, remembering her own pain, knowing death would stop it all, but allowing the strength of will to go on, to trump the tempting ease of letting go, to replace the emptiness by eliminating the pain in others, together offering a hand, a heart, building a better world for each other, was the way to the ultimate gift of a healed heart, loving the welfare of others, more than your own, knowing a broken heart will render your life an inescapable emptiness, unless you fill it up with rediscovering the elusive joy of helping others.
“My darling girl, now grown into my champion, my brave, strong woman. Forgive me for putting you through this. I never ever should have allowed it. Never. What was I thinking? Jeopardizing a child and her entire life.”
Elise was sobered by Shanti’s regret. Elise calmed herself.
Shanti was losing control of her own pain and anguish.
Elise took Shanti’s face in her hands, then lifted her face to look her in the eye.
“Shanti, Shanti. Don’t cry, Shanti. I love you. That’s why I’m crying. I’ve missed you so much. It’s not your fault. Please don’t think that. None of this is your fault. Dad and I, Desiree, Sid, every one of us, look at us, we’re the men and women of METAPHOR. We… are the only ones to protect you, and we… proudly accept our purpose. You’re a miracle. We… have chosen to protect our living, breathing miracle, with our mortal lives. It is that simple. Even as a child, I knew protecting you is what I wanted to do. I… chose. We… all chose to protect the mother of us all.”
The new Northwest team looked at each other. ‘What did she say?’
The two old friends laughed at their dumfoundedness, they cried, and looked into each other’s faces, hugged, and wiped away each other’s tears. Their smiles returned. Smiles, and tears of joy and happiness replaced the sadness. Shanti looked her over.
The members of METAPHOR, gathered around them, dumbstruck really, as the full truth had struck some.
Desiree and Sid went to stand with Joseph watching the lovely reunion.