Choosers of the Slain

by John Ringo

  "Come in," Mother said, finally, leading the daughter into the main room of the house.

  The first thing that Lydia noticed was that with the exception of Father Mahona, who was also trying to keep a welcoming demeanor, the only persons in the room were women. Most of them, furthermore, were Lydia's friends and peers, girls of her own age, a few married, most unmarried. She was secretly glad that Grand Mahn, Grandmother Mahona, wasn't in the room. The old fart had been going around for weeks with pursed lips and an angry look for the whole Rite, despite the fact that she was usually the first one to proclaim the superiority of anything old.

  "Welcome home, Lydia," Father Mahona said, bowing to her slightly. "We welcome you once more to our fold."

  The words had that suspiciously formal wording that sounded like the Kildar had written them. And made Father Mahona rehearse.

  "I'm glad to be home," she said nervously, looking around at the group.

  "Oh, bother with this!" Nastya finally snapped. "I want to know what is in the package! What is it?"

  "I don't know, honestly," Lydia said, setting the suspiciously heavy leather case down on the kitchen table. "The Kildar told me not to open it until I got home. And he said we have to send the horse back, but the case is mine to keep."

  "So what's in it?" Nastya asked impatiently. "Open it."

  "Don't rush her," Mother Mahona snapped, but she was clearly curious as well.

  Lydia broke the wax seal on the case, then opened it. Within there were three more packages, one a blue silken wrap, one a soft suede purse that clinked and the last another silken package, tied with a silken cord, that was more or less rectangular.

  Lydia opened the leather purse, first, dumping it out on the table.

  What spilled from it was a waterfall of silver and gold coins that made everyone's eyes go wide. There was more money on the table than the entire Keldara made in a year.

  "What's in the rest?" Nastya asked in a choked voice.

  The rectangular package turned out to be cash, Georgian rubles tied around a thick stack of American hundred dollar bills. Lydia didn't want to think about how many dollars there were there, and dollars were much more stable than rubles, but the rubles had been fanned out so that it was clear there were five one hundred ruble notes. She snorted when she saw that. That was her official "price."

  Lydia quickly undid the red ties from the blue silken roll and opened it. It turned out to be a jewelry wrap, containing a pearl necklace along with matching earrings and a bracelet. Contained within was a small note saying only "For your wedding."

  "Oh, All Father," Nastya whispered. "I so want to be the Kardane Bride! Can we start making the arrangements now?!"

  Chapter Forty

  Mike clambered up the floating platform and onto the deck of the freighter, looking around cautiously. The sky was overcast but according to the weather reports it didn't presage bad weather.

  Mike had ended up having to fly to Italy to clear up some diplomatic issues related to the photo that Carlson-Smith had carried. The very polite Italian intel chief they'd ended up doing most of the talking with was interested in what else might be in the trove. When told, politely, to fuck off, he'd pointed out that they needed the Italian acquiescence if they wanted to have the op go off. Otherwise, alas, an Italian coast guard cutter might just happen to be in the area.

  So Mike had simply started listing some of the known quantities, avoiding names or other descriptions but listing the general levels associated with them. At which point the Italian government had, quietly, shit its pants.

  Mike ended up in a five minute, very friendly, conversation with the prime minister, who had, as it turned out, had a rather longer conversation with the President. After which all the problems miraculously disappeared.

  However, it had made him miss the choppers. Which was why he'd gone down to the docks near Brundisi and bought an offshore yacht. It had been a long time since he'd been on one of the larger and more powerful versions of a cigarette boat and he'd missed the feel of raw power. With nothing to do but get to the freighter in time it was the best time he'd had in months, including the sex.

  But that pleasant idyll was over and as he stepped onto the deck he felt the mantle of command descend on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. Very heavy. Lead filled. Keldara were going to die on this op. He had to wonder if the damned thing was really worth it.

  "Where we at?" Mike asked as the chief, followed by Daria, strode over.

  "Troops are loading," Adams replied, waving at the groups of Keldara lined up to board the choppers. "All the secondary gear is onboard. The teams are dialed in. All we were really waiting for is you."

  "I told you I'd be on time," Mike said as Daria waved two Keldara forward with his gear.

  He stripped right on the cold deck, sitting on a coiled cable to pull on his pants. As he did he mused that this was a long way from his evening with Lydia. Who was, as a matter of fact, already in Lunari at this very moment, much closer to harms' way than he was. Not a good thought, all things considered.

  "Vanner and the intel group is in place," Adams continued. "And the recon of the rally point is complete. So far it looks clear."

  "We getting any take from Katya?" Mike asked.

  "Lots," Adams grunted. "From what Vanner said her reception was not fun."

  "As long as she lives long enough to give us a layout and location of the target, that's all that counts," Mike said.

  "Things have since gotten better," Adams said. "She has a sugar daddy that's keeping her from getting bounced around too much and she's located the primary. She and the primary are keeping the sugar daddy happy, thereby securing the primary and getting a look at the club. She hasn't gotten much intel on layout of the club, but Vanner also picked up another source. That source has been a gold mine."

  "Is he sure about the source?" Mike asked.

  "What Katya has been able to confirm has all played out," Adams said. "The source looks genuine. Mikhail, the security team leader, has hooked up with one of the same pimp's hookers. She's seen more of the club than Katya and has filled in all the little blanks. We even know where the computer room is."

  "Excellent," Mike said, standing up. One of the Keldara lifted his ammo harness into place and another handed him his SPR. "I'd say we're go."

  "Agreed," Adams said.

  "Gimme the maps and lets' get this show on the road."

  * * *

  Katya listened to the music and tried not to ask what time it was.

  Since the second day with her sugar daddy, they had mostly stayed at the club; the American neurosurgeon seemed to enjoy the atmosphere. Club Aldaris was like most such facilities in the world. There was a ground floor bar where the customers hung out and were propositioned by girls wandering the floor. In the center was the bar itself and on the back wall were three dance stages where the girls showed off their stuff.

  Reception had been spotty all along. The combination of the thick ferroconcrete walls and the background noise had interfered with audio and the video had been bad as well. So she also couldn't ask Vanner what the time was. It was time and past time to get out of the club and get ready to extract. But "Tom" was in the back with another girl.

  She looked up as a man walked over to the table and looked them both over. He paid particular attention to Natalya, though, who was drawing on the table using condensation from the glasses.

  "Come on, girl," the man said, reaching down and pulling at Natalya's arm. "I'm in need of some fun."

  "Sir," Katya said, getting up and holding up her hand. "We are with another man. You should ask for someone else."

  She glanced at Natalya who was frozen in her chair, looking at the man like a mouse looking at a snake.

  "I just want this one little whore," the man said, dragging the frozen Natalya to her feet.

  "Hey, buddy," Tom said, walking up behind the man and tapping him on the shoulder. "These are my girls."

  "What, you own them?" th
e man scoffed.

  "He's the bad man," Natalya said, so quietly it was hard to hear over the music. "He's come for me."

  "Yeah, I rented them for the day," Tom said angrily. He'd been drinking steadily all evening and Katya was pretty sure he had to be drunk. "I bought 'em, they're mine. So take your hands off of her."

  "I want this one," the man holding Natalya said, reaching into his pocket. "I'll pay you for her."

  "Wait," one of the guards in the club said, walking over. "Is no fighting."

  "I don't want your damned money!" Tom snapped, slapping the man's wallet away. "Just get your hands off of my girl!"

  "Katya, what's going on?" Vanner asked.

  "Problems," Katya whispered. "Big problems."

  * * *

  "So, why are we watching this?" Captain O'Keefe asked, watching the real-time video from the Predator drone.

  "Because we care?" Pierson asked, shrugging. "In case there's anything we can do to help?"

  "Well, we can't drop JDAMs on the town," O'Keefe pointed out. "And we can't send in a SEAL team to help out. And we can't interdict with Tomahawks. So what exactly are we going to do?"

  "Sweep around the edge of town," Pierson said into the microphone. "You really think that the President isn't going to want to know how it went down? And getting an after action report from Jenkins is like pulling teeth. So ... we watch." He paused and leaned forward, keying the communicator again. "Whoa. Head down Highway One. I think I saw ..." He paused and blanched. "Zoom in on that group of busses. Get an angle from the side if you can."

  "That's not normal," O'Keefe said, leaning forward, then looking up at another plot. "And they're already in the air."

  "No, it's not," Pierson agreed. "And, yes, they are. Zoom in more on the windows."

  "Crap."

  * * *

  "Kildar, Vanner."

  "Go," Mike said, looking around the helicopter. The Keldara were as prepared for the mission as could be arranged, but he still was unhappy. As he watched, one of them reached into his blouse and pulled out a silver "cross"; the device was actually a hammer disguised to look somewhat like a Christian cross. The Keldara kissed the relic and replaced it in his blouse. For what we are about to receive ...

  "We have two major issues that have just come up," Vanner said, calmly. "The girls are still at the club and someone is trying to extract Natalya. Katya believes that it may be the person who was impersonating Grantham."

  "Shit," Mike said. "You got a facial visual?"

  "Yes," Vanner said. "I've uploaded it to Colonel Pierson. However, they have a Predator drone up and he has just informed me that there is a convoy of armed personnel headed for the town. ETA is about forty-five minutes."

  "They'll hit us in the middle of the op," Mike said, thinking furiously. "Where?"

  "They're coming in on Highway One," Vanner replied.

  "So are we blown?" Adams asked.

  "Any other indicators?" Mike asked.

  "Nothing in the club," Vanner said. "Nothing in town."

  "I don't think it's coincidence," Mike replied. "But we're still locked on the mission. I'll work on it. Good job. Tell Katya to stay with Natalya if at all possible. Time for her to use her toys."

  "Roger," Vanner said. "I'm going to roll part of my security team to follow."

  "Concur," Mike said. "Continue the mission. Adams?"

  "Go."

  "Get me Team Padrek."

  * * *

  "All I want is this one little bitch," the man snarled at the guard. "I'll fucking buy her from you!"

  "She's bought and paid for, buddy," Tom snapped. "Get the fuck out!"

  "Gentlemen, gentlemen," Boris said, walking over. "There is no need to argue about whores; there are plenty of whores."

  "Then let him have others," the man said, reaching into his pocket again. "Here," he said, pulling out a thick wad of hundred euro notes. "Five thousand euros. Now I leave with her?"

  "Now you leave with her," Boris said, nodding as he riffled through the money. "And you do what you want as long as she comes back alive."

  "Fine," the man snapped, pulling her along with towards the door.

  "Hey!" Tom shouted. "I paid for her!"

  "I give you money back," Boris smirked.

  "I go with you, too," Katya said, stepping in front of the man. "I give you good time, you give me money!"

  He paused and looked her up and down, then smiled.

  "You want to go with me, too?" the man asked. "Okay, you want to play with the big boys, you can come along, too."

  "Bitches," Tom shouted. "Nothing but fucking bitches! All you care about is the money!"

  "Yes?" Katya said, laughing in his face. "So? And I was never fourteen!"

  Tom snarled at her and started to draw his hand back, but then stormed out of the club.

  "Now I go with you," Katya said, putting her hand on the man's arm. "And I show you what I can do."

  * * *

  "Where is she?" Mikhail asked as the Lada screeched to a halt in front of the club.

  "Gone," Vanner snapped. "Looks like west towards Highway One towards the hills. We've picked her up on two vids so far, but in just a minute she's going to be outside our reception range."

  "I'm on it," Mikhail said. "Keep an eye on Tanya for me."

  * * *

  "Tanya," Vanner said, as the girl opened the door. "We need a big favor. A very important, and dangerous, favor."

  * * *

  "Padrek," Mike said over the radio. "Change of mission. There is what looks like a reaction force headed for the town. Take the half your team that was supposed to secure the Forward Aerial Assembly Point down Highway One about two klicks and block the road. Once the road is blocked I'll have someone pick you up. Try not to get engaged."

  "Understood, Kildar," the team leader said.

  "Your entry portion will shift to Team Oleg," Mike said. "Good luck. Try not to get your asses shot off."

  * * *

  "Where is Boris?" Bezhmel asked the guard inside the club as he hurried through the doors.

  "In back," the guard said, indifferently. "We close."

  "Let's hope not permanently," the security specialist said, hurrying across the almost deserted club. "Boris!"

  "Ah, Yarok Ivanovich!" the Albanian said, smiling unhappily. "What do you want?"

  "You know this girl?" Bezhmel asked, pulling out the picture of Natalya.

  "Natalya," the pimp said, nodding. "What is so important about one little crazy whore? First two Americans fight over her, then you want her. She is gone."

  "Gone!" Bezhmel shouted. "Gone where?"

  "With American," Boris said, frowning. "You shout at me in my own club?"

  "Fuck," Bezhmel cursed. "Look, there is an attack coming, but I have to find this girl. I have a group of soldiers coming to stop it, my people, former Spetznaz. They will take care of it but you must get your guards up, now! And I need to know where the girl has gone, now! You said she went with American ..." Bezhmel said, pulling out the other paper. "Was he one of them?"

  "The one she left with," Boris said, nodding and trying to catch up. "What attack?"

  "The group that hit Club Dracul and Rozaje," Bezhmel said, putting the pictures away. "Where did they go? The man with the girl."

  "I can ask around," Boris said. "They were in silver Mercedes. But ... what attack?"

  "My people will be here in about thirty minutes," Bezhmel said. "I need to find the others. East or west out of town?"

  "Ask guards on door," Boris said, shrugging. "I go wake up my guards. I will make phone calls and see if anyone see them."

  "Right, I'm out of here," Bezhmel said. "My second in command is Yevgenii. He will bring the soldiers here. The attack may come tonight but it may not. We need to surprise them."

  "We will," Boris said, grinning. "We'll kill them all for Dracul and Rozaje."

  "I've got to go."

  * * *

  "I'm getting something from her," Mikhail s
aid. "Is it retransmitting?"

  "Got it," Vanner said. "I'm trying to boost the gain...."

  Chapter Forty-One

  "Where are we going?" Katya said, placing her hand on the man's crotch and rubbing it.

  The Mercedes was very comfortable, with leather seats like the ones in the Kildar's Expedition but wider and softer. Some day, she would have a car like this one. Including the divider so the driver couldn't listen in.

  "A place I know up in the hills," the man replied. "A quiet place where we can have some fun. Well, where I can have some fun," he added, grabbing her wrist and pushing her hand away. He twisted her arm up behind her back and leaned over to her ear. "There is a special kind of fun I like to have."

  "You want do this, I need much money," Katya said, internally cursing as he twisted her arms behind her and cuffed them. "Please no hurt. I give you good time! No need hurt."

  "We'll talk about that when I'm done," the man said, reaching into her dress and twisting her nipple, hard. "Well, just before I kill you."

  "Oh, please don't do that," Katya said, sobbing.

  "But it's what I like," the man whispered in her ear. "I like to hurt little girls like you. I like to kill them. I'm going to do you just like I did that little bitch in Rozaje. I'm going to hurt you and hurt you more. Then I'm going to take you in the ass and strangle you while I keep pumping your ass till I come, bitch."

  "Why you do this?" Katya whined. "Why you want Natalya?" As the man spoke she twisted her hands as if to get away. The valve at each joint at the base of the finger had to be pressed four times to open up the poison pouch. It was a laborious process. Fortunately, this jackass wanted to talk.

  "It was so simple," the man said, laughing. "Just get a voice changer, put on a mask and I was Grantham. The bastard. He blocked my nomination with the last administration. I should have been the undersecretary for International Development but he brought up that shit from Nigeria as if little bitches matter! Well, I fixed him good. And now he's singing a different tune!" He looked at her and shook his head. "What does a little whore like you understand about anything. You're only good for one thing."