The Grim Reaper disconnected, turning his full attention to Private Telk, waving his scythe about menacingly. “I’ll cut to the chase. I will assist in the rescue of the fair Elena, if you help me out. You have something I want.”
“I knew it! What do you want?”
“The three-hundred-ninety-six steps to sexual bliss, and Randal’s Big Bang Theory. You can download the information to my communications pad.”
“You have a deal,” replied Private Telk, instantly sending the information.
“There are tripwires ahead rigged to explosives,” cautioned the Grim Reaper, receiving the data on his communications pad. “Good luck with the rescue!”
* * * * *
When the bombardment started, Private Telk lead the way. Telk’s boots sloshed noisily in the water. Telk removed his boots, going into barefoot stealth mode. Going barefoot seemed so natural. Telk impressed all doubters by finding the first set of tripwires.
There was movement ahead. The SWAT team scattered for cover as grenades exploded, followed by automatic gunfire. The concussive effect stunned Private Telk. All went black. Hello Darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again.
“Buck it up!” shouted the Grim Reaper. “You’re such a wimp, no one even wants you in Hell! You will not be killed today because it is not your time!”
Suddenly alert, Private Telk affixed his bayonet, let out a rebel yell, and charged forward. Even Sergeant Williams was taken back by the blood-curdling shriek. Inspired, legionnaires and SWAT team members followed, overwhelming the Fist & Claw terrorists in a brief hand-to-claw fight.
Private Telk took Yolanda – er, Elena – in his arms, kissing her passionately. Sergeant Williams dragged Invisible-Claw on his knees before Private Telk to be executed.
“Please don’t kill me,” pleaded Invisible-Claw. “I appeal to your humanity.” He glanced at Elena. “Sorry about your finger. That was an accident. I saved it an ice box so doctors can sew it back on later. Sorry about your tooth. They were yellow, anyway. New caps will look better. Please don’t shoot! I don’t want to die.”
“Bolshevik!” answered Private Telk in his native Romanian.
“What?” asked Invisible-Claw, checking his translator.
“I said bullshit!”
Yolanda/Elena kissed Randal again, whispering in his ear she needed the three-hundred-ninety-six steps to sexual bliss soon. Then, in keeping with Legion tradition, she fired one shot to Invisible-Claw’s testicles, followed by another to the head.
###
~BONUS SHORT STORY~
Siam Summer
by James Boedeker
Young Randal Telk was born of average parents in Buffalo, New York. Dad was a balding, pot-bellied, near-sighted fellow who was never around much. Dad’s import/export business took him to exotic places like Southeast Asia. Mom was sweet but homely. When she fell out of the ugly tree, she hit every ugly branch on the way down, and got run over by a passing truck. Lonely for Dad, she stayed home and ate a lot. Growing apart, they finally divorced.
At first Dad called a few times a week, then a few times a month. Three years later, Dad was a stranger. Randal didn’t care much, content playing video games and surfing porn on the internet. At sixteen, he was interested in girls but didn’t know much about how to approach them. After Mom got a new boyfriend, a near-sighted toll booth operator, she decided Randal need a father’s influence. With no regard to how he felt, Randal was sent to visit Dad for the summer in Bangkok, Thailand, the Land of the Smile. Mom insisted travel abroad would round off Randal’s education.
Randal was upset about going to live with a man he barely knew in a country that didn’t speak English. School friends were jealous. Internet research showed Thai girls were hot and loved rich Americans. They thought all Americans were rich. For five dollars, even a dweeb like Randal could get laid in Thailand. Even so, it was suggested that Randal work out. Hot girls liked big muscles. Randal’s friends were morons. How was he supposed to bulk up in one day? Randal borrowed fifty dollars from Mom’s mad money stash. That cash would be Randal’s getting-laid fund.
Randal’s education began upon his arrival in Bangkok. Ninety degree temperature and humidity was a lot different from Buffalo. Randal dumped his coat. The next thing Randal learned was that Thai girls were hot, and they were everywhere. His jaw dropped as he just stood there staring.
Dad pulled Randal out of his trance to the car. He seamed irritated and rushed, not too pleased to be babysitting for the summer. Randal suspected Dad was trying to kill him when he drove on the wrong side of the road onto the freeway. Turned out everyone in Thailand drove like crazy on the wrong side of the road. Randal tried closing his eyes in fear, but it didn’t help.
Randal accepted that Dad probably loved him but didn’t appreciate being forced into watching him. Nobody liked being forced into things. He didn’t say much, just the usual how’s the flight, how’s the airplane food? At his condo, Dad showed Randal his room and was off to work in five minutes. He said stay out of trouble! Whatever.
Randal turned on the TV. Nothing was in English. Randal snooped in Dad’s room, immediately scoring a fistful of condoms. Randal was still a virgin, but a virgin could never have too many condoms. Randal calculated with his fifty dollars, he could get laid at least ten times.
When Dad got home, he brought weird Thai food in plastic bags. Spicy soup and salad, the stuff burned going in and going out. The least his old man could have done was warn him! They still didn’t talk much, and retired early.
The next day Randal woke to a note saying Dad would be home late, and there were leftovers in the frig. Yeah right. Also, a boy Randal’s age would be by about noon to show him around. Dad left a thousand Thai bhat in case he needed cash. Randal added the odd looking bhat to his getting-laid fund. Once again, the note added to stay out of trouble! Parents have no faith in their children.
At about two o’clock, a tall Australian boy and a hot Thai girl knocked on the door and walked right in, introducing themselves and kicking off their shoes.
“Dude, you have to learn the culture,” advised Tom, noticing Randal was wearing his Nikes inside. “Never wear your shoes in the house or you’ll never get laid.”
Tom’s hot girlfriend Mon nodded her agreement. Randal immediately shed his shoes. Mon was dressed kind of trashy, which made her extra hot. She was wearing a skin-tight blue tee-shirt and miniskirt. Randal could tell she liked sex because she kept rubbing up against Tom. Randal wondered if he could steal Mon from Tom.
“My dad works with your dad,” explained Tom, finding two English channels on the TV. “They think I’m going to show you some lame temples or go to the movies. I know you didn’t come all the way to Thailand just to see a bunch of old buildings.”
“No way,” agreed Randal, trying to be smooth for his new friends.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” asked Mon, sitting close to Randal on the couch.
“Yes,” lied Randal, immediately regretting his answer.
“That’s so sad for my friends who are dying to meet you,” cooed Mon, caressing his leg. “They all want foreign boyfriends.”
“Actually, we broke up before I left because she was getting too clingy,” advised Randal. “I had to dump her. It was sad. I’m only just now getting over it. I’m free to date.”
Mon giggled as she rattled off a few words in Thai to Tom. They seemed to be sharing an inside joke at Randal’s expense. Sensing they were being rude, Tom switched back to English. “Mon thinks you’re cute, but knows you’re a virgin,” explained Tom. “No worries, mate. We’ll take care of that before you leave.”
“Today?” asked Randal hopefully of his new best friend.
“We need to establish a few rules,” insisted Tom, seriously. “First, we don’t tell our dads where we really go. Second, don’t be bragging in emails to all your friends in America every time you get laid. Word always leaks, and we don’t want your mum freaking out about it.”
&n
bsp; Randal just nodded in agreement. If he got laid, he was going to send emails to all his friends. He’d even send video to make sure they all believed him.
“The last rule is the most important. Always use condoms, and carry extras.”
“I got that covered!” replied Randal, reaching in his pocket to show off his multi-colored stash. On that note, the three chums were out the door, seeking fun and adventure. Randal was beginning to feel glad he came to Thailand after all.
They took a taxi to lunch. Tom made Randal pay. Randal didn’t mind, what with Tom promising to get him laid. For the first time, Randal began paying attention to where he was and where he was going. Randal did not want to get lost if he was on his own getting laid. The streets were narrow, and it seemed like everyone was selling food. And the girls were all beautiful.
They ate at McDonald’s with Mon’s friends. Randal paid. Tom explained paying would impress the girls. All of Mon’s girlfriends were hot. June, the most beautiful, took a particular interest in Randal, at one point sitting on his lap and running her fingers through his hair. “Do you have two thousand bhat?” asked June.
“Why,” asked Randal, a little slow, but quick to recover.
“So I can show you how much I like you.”
“Go for it,” advised Tom, winking.
“Is fifty dollars enough?” asked Randal, pulling out his wallet.
“That’s just the right amount,” answered June, snatching the bills.
June led Randal to her room. She insisted on taking a shower first. Randal wanted to join her, but didn’t want to appear to anxious. When June came out she was seductively wrapped in towel. June smiled and helped Randal out of his clothes.
It should have been a happy ending to a coming-of-age story. However, in Thailand, if a girl is tall and has a deep husky voice, she’s not a girl. Even if she has sexy boobs and cute round butt, she’s not a girl. June was not a girl, and neither was Mon or any of her friends. Randal lost his virginity before he realized his mistake. There would be no videos sent home to friends bragging about getting laid. When Randal left, he hung out with Tom for a while, then went back to the condo.
When Dad got home, he brought his girlfriend Nom. She was really hot and friendly. Randal suspiciously checked Nom close to make sure she was really a girl. She was short and had a girl’s voice, so he figured she was probably a girl. Randal swore he was going to kick Tom’s ass next time he saw him. Dad ordered a pizza delivered so the day wasn’t a complete waste of money. Tomorrow they were going to see the Tiger Temple and ride an elephant. Nom would be coming too.
That night the thin walls reverberated with the sound of Dad making love to Nom. Randal felt somewhat traumatized and jealous. Nom was hot. Randal was developing a bit of a stepmother complex, wondering if he could steal her off Dad.
In the morning, Nom still looked hot. Randal began fantasizing about her. From all the noise last night, he knew Nom was great in bed. Randal continued his daydream fantasy during the three-hour car trip, but was interrupted by an image of June. Randal was definitely going to kick Tom’s ass.
The Tiger Temple was actually pretty cool. Tourists got to walk with tigers in a canyon. Everyone took turns walking a tiger. No one could really appreciate how large a tiger was until standing next to one. When it was Randal’s turn, the tiger’s tail went up. Randal didn’t think anything of it, but the next thing he knew, that damn cat was pissing all over him. Pimp-slapping a tiger would have been a fatal mistake, so Randal endured the embarrassment silently.
Everyone got a good laugh. Randal laughed too as Nom helped wipe off the piss. Randal looked down her blouse at her boobs, and accidentally put his hand on her leg. Nom slapped it away. Randal didn’t mind the rebuke; it was worth it to touch bare skin.
Next stop was the elephant ride. There were a lot of hot girls at the elephant ride. Hot girls liked to ride elephants. Who knew? Randal even worked up the courage to talk to a few. Nom was a big help translating. Girls giggled, pointing at the elephant’s trunk then speculatively nodding at Randal. That’s when Dad realized his boy was growing up, and he’d need to have a father-son talk soon.
Randal got over his anger at Tom, realizing Tom was in gay denial. They still hung out. Tom still tried to hook Randal up with his ladyboy friends, but Randal would have none of it. After a while, Randal became an expert at spotting ladyboys. Generally, ladyboys wore more makeup and were taller than real girls. Still, it was disturbing how hot they looked.
Randal hung out at a different mall where real girls hung out. They were less expensive than Mon’s friends. Randal finally lost his real virginity to a girl who called herself Yolanda. Randal caught the crabs from Yolanda, but it was worth it to lose his real virginity. Randal emailed video evidence home. Mom was appalled.
Randal decided he wanted to stay in Thailand. Dad got Randal a job where he worked. The funny thing about Thailand is, once you accept it into your heart, you can never leave. Thailand calls you back like an addict, no matter how long you’re away. Years later, and a galaxy far far away, Randal still dreamed of Thailand, the Land of the Smile.
###
AGFL Book 18: First Contact – coming soon!
~SNEAK PREVIEW~
DEATH SPIRAL BOOK 2: JAI DEE
by
James Boedeker
Chapter 1
Sitting at a table by himself, Mike Towery ordered a Singha beer, no ice. He would rather have warm beer over watery beer. He drank at a different bar every night, giving obscene tips and watching for bad guys and assholes. That was his life now.
Over a year ago, Mike had somehow found his way to Bangkok, Thailand. Bangkok was known as the sin city of Asia, and Thailand, the land of the smile. The irony was that Bangkok was no different than any other city, except that here redemption could be found and traded like a commodity.
At first glance, Mike might look like an average guy. He stood six feet tall weighed in at one hundred eighty pounds. But he was toned with well-defined muscles – a byproduct of a life that required him to be in peak physical condition and had shaped who he was. The Marine Corps was his life, and he had loved it. But he had sold his soul and sacrificed the brotherhood, all in the name of money.
Some days, guilt consumed him. Others days, it was just a feeling of regret. Mike spent a lot of time drinking beer and wondering how he had lost his way. Now he dedicated himself to helping prostitutes, making himself their self-appointed guardian angel. These girls were working girls and all had a story with a common theme. They worked to send money home to help their families. How true this was would be anyone’s guess, but certainly they earned every baht of it.
Three months earlier he had interrupted a farang – Caucasian, foreigner – beating a prostitute because she had been unable or unwilling to shit on him. He had refused to pay for her services, and she had protested. He then felt the need to beat her within an inch of her life.
Mike had been using the alley as a shortcut and stumbled upon the beating in full swing. Without thinking or caring, he had stopped the farang and gave him a healthy dose of his own medicine. The girl was so badly beaten that she couldn’t walk, and Mike had carried her to the main street. He flagged a taxi over and took her to a hospital, then paid the bill and became an overnight hero to the working girls. Many offered to be his steady, and he had been tempted, but he always politely declined and gave them a healthy tip instead.
Jai Dee, ‘good heart,’ was what some of the locals called Mike Towery. If only they knew what he really was, they might have chosen a different name – Jai Rai, ‘bad heart’ or ‘dark heart.’
Former US Marine scout sniper, Mike had been something special, one of the elite, the best of the best. Then he sold his soul to the devil and became an assassin for hire, working for the highest bidder. He made a ton of money and, in exchange, damned himself to hell. Retired from the game now, Mike had more money than God and no motivation to enjoy any of it. Killing bad guys as a sniper had been an h
onor and a privilege. Killing people for money as a hired assassin was a sin he had committed plenty. Thinking about what he had done with his life made him feel lonely, bitter, and filled with despair. His only saving grace was that he wasn’t a raging alcoholic – yet.
To the Buddhist, anything is possible, and everything is self-determined. To the Thai people, death is a natural part of life, and they celebrate the life of their loved ones when they pass. Not for the first time, Mike wondered who would celebrate his life.
Mike took another sip of warm beer. The guilt and the memories taunted him. He recalled his first private kill for a drug lord who wanted to eliminate his competition. He had earned a cool fifty thousand for a fairly routine shot at nine hundred meters. His second earned him thirty thousand for yet another easy shot at three hundred meters on a catholic priest who was too vocal about a certain dictator. Even then, Mike didn’t feel the doors to hell open for him. He had been too busy counting the easy money.
As his reputation and bank account grew, so did his arrogance. Some of the jobs he would have done for cost or even free, so loathsome were the targets. Others now haunted him. One was an honest police chief and his brother who was a judge. They wouldn’t take bribes and actually did their jobs. He was paid fifty grand to terminate them. Both had families and, in fact, he killed them at a birthday party for the judge’s youngest daughter. He shot them while they embraced, after the little girl opened her gift from her favorite uncle. That shot was at twelve hundred meters with a McMillan fifty-caliber. He had made the mistake of watching the reaction of the guests after the shot. Even then he continued killing for a living. He had a plan, a goal. He wanted at least five million so he could retire in comfort. Between his kills and his investments, he had his five million and change in no time at all. He was also was a wanted man who could never return home.
Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss Page 11