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New World Order: California Invasion (Vol. 2)

Page 17

by W. R. Benton


  “Uh, of the killed, are they protesters?”

  “No, sir, they are military and police, sir. The protesters had almost two thousand dead. Last night, for the first time, they turned to using weapons on us. Our best guess is the NWO furnished them M-16's and a variety of different arms. We know they had grenades, shoulder launched missiles and some other items. They finally broke up when we used jets and napalm on them.”

  “Well, I told General Adams to use anything shy of a nuke bomb, so I'm glad to see he did. I dislike the killing of Americans, I really do, but riots we cannot put up with. If we allow Chicago to demonstrate, then we'll be forced to let every occupied state do the same.”

  “Sir, from the footage and images we got from last night, something very interesting was learned.”

  “Oh, and what was that?” The President leaned forward his head on his open palms.

  “Let me turn on the images, sir.” The lights dimmed and the Colonel pushed a button, and the photo of a very beautiful woman nude in a bed was shown. She was completely naked, laying flat on her back, and her eyes were full of lust. He pushed a button and it showed a man obviously being pleased by the beautiful woman.

  “Wow, who is that?” someone at the table asked.

  The President said, “I hope there is a reason to show porn to my staff, Colonel.”

  “There is, sir. The nude woman is this woman. They are one in the same.” He pushed a button and the photo of Adolpha standing on the tank was shown, grenade in her right hand.

  “So?” the President said.

  “Sir, the images were on file here, having been seen by the first President of the CSA, President Patterson. In both images is a face and body no man would ever forget, but especially if he's seen her nude. I and my senior NCO have seen her before. It took us a while, but we eventually remembered mailing some rather compromising images of this woman and a man to a Frau Thierse in Darmstadt, Germany. The man was Frau Thierse's husband. The woman in the images, gentlemen, is Adolpha Hanish, and she is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. She's also a senior member of the NWO, and she appeared here last night. We have both still images and videos of her active in the fight last night. Herr Thierse and his wife are now both deceased, so we can't question either of them.”

  “Interesting,” the President said, “and it's clear that this is a woman who uses her sex appeal to manipulate men.”

  “She's manipulated more than just a few women using sex too, sir. This is one very smart and dangerous woman. Now, when we located her photo in our driving records, we found her with a different name, of course, and she's listed as an executive with a large company. In another file, I was surprised to see a complete background for the woman, including where she attended first grade. I suspect the history is fake.”

  The President said, “If you're sure it's the same woman, I want her brought in alive.”

  Then, bringing up a new image, the Colonel said, “My folks ran some tests on her appearance and if you look at her left eye, there is a faint scar just under the eye and down her chin. Now, I will enlarge both of these images and the scar can clearly be seen in both images. Now, in this next slide, the photos are over lapped and they are a perfect fit. Even the shape of the scar overlaps perfectly. In the first image she is about to throw a grenade into a tank and kill three men. While in the other, she's nearing an orgasm with her lover. My staff psychologist states she may be a person sexually stimulated by violence, and there are many.”

  “Her orgasms don't interest me, Colonel, not in the least, but taking her alive does. She's a big fish, I suspect, and I want her captured today. Also, show her image to any agents we have that have had extensive work in Europe and here. They may remember something about her.”

  “That's being done right now, sir.”

  Adolpha awoke nude in bed with The Boss, and he was snoring loudly as she moved to the bathroom. Noah, the man she really wanted get into her bed to please, didn't return last night, so he was either killed or had to move to a different safe house. Glancing at the clock, it was a little past six in the morning. While The Boss was a good lover, Adolpha liked a little variety in lovers and was soon bored with just one man, or woman. Yes, she'd loved women too, countless times, as part of her job, but when on her own time, she preferred a threesome with a man and another woman. She peed, moved to the shower, and turned the water on.

  She showered and climbed back in bed, deciding to wake The Boss her favorite way. She'd just moved between his legs, when she heard her front door knocked off it's hinges with a very loud bang. She grabbed her pistol, slipped a robe on, squatted by the bed, and waited for the bedroom door to open. The Boss, hearing the noise and grabbing his pistol too, moved to the other side of the room, beside her dresser. He was ready, but as naked as the day he was born. As she waited, she slipped his wallet in her robe pocket so she'd have some money if she made a run for it.

  Hearing a noise just outside the bedroom door, she fired one round through the walls to the left of the door, one through the wall on the right, and one in the center of the door. All three rounds were about 36 inches up from the floor.

  Two screams were heard, as well as two loud thumps as someone fell. The door was immediately kicked in. The first three men in the room died, one shot by her and two by The Boss. Two others rushed in and she fired twice, knocking both against a wall in her room, but they were wearing bullet proof vests, and when their arms rose, pistols in hands, both her and The Boss put bullets through their heads. Blood, brains and shards of skull splattered on the wall behind them.

  After ten minutes and no one entered, she moved toward the hall as The Boss put on some clothes. She found two wounded lying on the floor.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “C . . . I . . . A.” a man gut shot managed to get out.

  “Why here at my house?” she asked, and knew she'd be all over The Boss once out of the house and alone. The violence had ignited her passion and it was quickly turning to lust.

  The other agent, shot through both legs said, “W . . . we . . . have a . . . warrant for . . . your . . . arrest.”

  Her whole body tingled with desire as she raised her pistol and shot both men in the head. Some how, some way, she'd been compromised.

  “Let's go, and do it now. We'll take my car because they're on to you some way, and I don't see how that could be.” The Boss said.

  “While I change, take anything from the bodies we might need and for sure take all the money, ammo and weapons.” she said as she moved back into the bedroom. “We'll cover some miles and then get a hotel room.”

  “Surely you're not sleepy.”

  “No, we need a place to hide out, and I want you—badly.”

  The Boss shook his head and began picking up guns and taking ammo from the dead agents.

  The President was livid when informed of the botched attempt to capture Adolpha. He exploded from his chair and yelled, “Colonel, you told me yourself she was dangerous! Didn't you bother to tell your own damned agents?”

  “They knew, but something went wrong. We lost seven agents, all killed, and she's gone again.”

  “You blew your best chance to take her, and now she knows she's wanted by us. I want her listed as a terrorist and made number one on the FBI most wanted list. I want her face posted all over TV, because she'll be remembered due to her beauty. She'll go into hiding, and if she gets to the slums of Chicago we'll never find her. I can't believe this!”

  “I'll see it's done immediately, sir.”

  “Now get the hell out before I fire you. Damn me, I don't believe this happened.”

  The President was still talking to himself when the Colonel left the room.

  Three hours later, as the President sat on the CSA's version of Air Force One, a Learjet 35A, a member of the crew walked to him and spoke softly into his ear. The President paled. Leaning to his wife he whispered, “We have two United States fighter aircraft on our tail, and the pilo
t has radioed for assistance. If they fire rockets, we'll take evasive action.”

  “Oh, John, that scares me.”

  Pulling a quart of whiskey from the seat beside him, he poured them both a double, handed one to her and said, “Drink quickly, because we may not have much time.” He threw his drink back quickly and poured another.

  The pilot spoke, “Uh, Mister President and First Lady, crew and passengers, we are picking up radar images of two enemy fighter aircraft behind us. They're too far away to harm us now, but in a few minutes we can expect them to attack. They obviously knew our flight path, so I suspect a security leak. I have radioed for assistance and fighters are scrambling right this second. Some from Shaw and Pope Air Force Base are already in the air and moving toward us. Please buckle your seat-belts and prepare for evasive movements. Crews, to your stations and buckle up.”

  The President and First Lady had one more double and then she said, “I have faith we'll survive this, honey.” She smiled and then took his hand in hers.

  He placed the bottle in the seat beside him and she smiled as he buckled the seat-belt around the glass container.

  The aircraft suddenly rolled to the right, followed by a violent roll back to the left and then the nose went down.

  In the cockpit the pilot and co-pilot had their hands full. A missile was seen to pass them and explode, narrowly missing the cockpit. The pilot danced the aircraft all over the sky, trying to avoid the two fighters behind him. One jet moved to overtake the Lear jet and, from above, strafed down the middle of the aircraft, sending bullets through the cabin, with some striking passengers. The aircraft began to smoke from the left engine.

  In the passenger cabin, the long row of bullets passed through the thin skin of the aircraft with ease, and the cabin was now filled with dust, debris and a light veil of blood hung over some seats. Screams were heard from the scared and wounded. The President saw one member of his staff holding what remained of his left arm, as blood dripped to the cabin floor. The aircraft suddenly started a steep angle of descent and once again passengers were screaming. Unknown to the folks in the cabin, when they lost cabin pressure from the strafing run, they had to get below 10,000 feet and quickly. If not, hypoxia would be a killer for some of them on the small aircraft. Already small items were being sucked from the bullet holes in the cabin floor and ceiling.

  Four people were struck by bullets from the passing jet, and a nurse on the President's staff moved from her seat to assist them. The man who'd lost his left arm had blood spurting into the air with each beat of his heart. A tourniquet was quickly applied and morphine given for his pain. The second wounded was a woman who worked as part of the President's security team, and she'd taken a round in her left shoulder, which passed through, struck her left hand, taking it off at the wrist, and then struck her left leg. The nurse moved her from her seat to the floor so she could treat her easier.

  Within minutes, the nurse had an IV inserted, a pouch of blood being given and all wounds bandaged and the bleeding stopped. The President's aircraft carried a full supply of medical items that were always available for emergency use.

  “Air Force One, this is Otter One. I have you visual. Your left engine is smoking, but I see no flames. Uh, I have the two bogeys on my radar and there are four of us in my flight. Otter four will remain with you, while we go after the bad guys.”

  The aircraft began to shudder and shake from the damage done by the missiles and bullets. The pilot, Lieutenant Colonel David Day said, “Tower, this is Air Force One, and I need to get this thing on the ground. Give me a place, and do the job quickly.”

  “Roger, wait one.”

  “Left fire light just came on.” Major John Ovide, the copilot, spoke casually but inside his stomach knotted.

  The pilot reached forward and pushed the fire extinguisher agent discharge button to smother the flames on the left engine.

  “Tower, be advised I have only one engine working and request immediate landing. I am declaring an in-flight emergency at this time.”

  “Roger, copy, you have an in-flight emergency. You are currently near Macon, Georgia and straight in front of you is a small county airport. I suggest you put down there. From there we can send another Lear Jet and pick you up in just a couple of hours.”

  “Macon looks fine to me, tower, so what frequency do I contact their tower on?”

  Lieutenant Colonel Day was given the information and contacted the Macon regional airport.

  “Y'all can make a straight in approach, Air Force One. We ain't got but one firetruck, but it'll be parked on a taxiway when ya land. Y'all be careful now, heah.”

  “Uh, Macon Tower, understand I am cleared for a straight in landing. I have at least four injured on the aircraft and need an ambulance too.”

  “I called Macon General, the closest hospital, and they have an am'blance coming right now.”

  “Air Force One, both bandits are Tango Uniform (Teats Up, or dead). We're returning to base.”

  “Roger that, and thanks for the help, Otter One.”

  “Anytime, Air Force One. Otter Four, you copy?”

  “Uh, copy One.”

  The fighter left to guard the Lear jet, suddenly pulled up and shot into the sky, obviously given orders to return to base.

  “This is the captain speaking. We've been given approval to land in a small airfield near Macon, Georgia and we'll be on the ground shortly. All crew to your stations, and prepare for an emergency landing.”

  “We have a fuel leak on the good engine, and I estimate in ten minutes we'll be high and dry.”

  “We're only two minutes from the airport. But, by losing fuel I'll not be able to make a go round if I miss the approach. This must be done right the first time, because there will be no second chance.”

  “I see it at our twelve o'clock position.” Ovide pointed at the small airport off in the distance.

  “Got it, uh, Macon Tower I have you visual and lining up for my landing now.”

  “Roger that.”

  Day did a perfect approach and the tires gave a loud screech as they touched the concrete of the runway. There was a slight bump, and as they rolled down the runway at a high rate of speed the co-pilot said, “The right fire light just flashed on.”

  The nose wheel suddenly collapsed and the nose of the aircraft fell hard to the ground with a loud bang and continuous grinding sound following impact with the runway. Sparks and smoke were sent high into the air and seconds later small flames were seen. The windshield in the cockpit was blocked by fire and smoke.

  “Tower, dispatch the firetruck now.”

  “Roger, that's been done.”

  Both the pilot and co-pilot were pushing on the brakes, and it seemed to take the aircraft forever to come to a complete stop.

  “Pilot to crew,” Day spoke as soon as they stopped moving, “evacuate the President and First Lady, and then the rest of the passengers.” He reached over and flipped the power off, mainly to avoid fires from the electrical system.

  Colonel Day moved from his seat, shook hands with Ovide, and said, “Let's make sure all our passengers are off and then, as the Captain on this flight, I will exit last.”

  When they exited the aircraft, the firetruck was hosing the nose of the bird because friction had caused a small fire. Smoke bellowed into the air, but no flames were seen. The President, First Lady and both wounded passengers were leaving on an ambulance to the hospital. Once at the emergency room, the President and his wife would be given physicals and checked for wounds.

  Chapter 17

  They were in a rundown country hotel just outside of Dallas, Texas, with both watching television as they recovered from a heavy love session. It was early morning, and Adolpha liked to start and finish her days with pure animal-like lust. She was just about to get up and shower and then have another go with The Boss, when the morning news suddenly showed her face.

  “This woman, Adolpha Hanish, of Darmstadt, Germany, is currently number one
on the FBI's most wanted list. She is a known killer, terrorist, and is part of the New World Order. However, she may be traveling under any name, so take a good look at her face. The police warn she is extremely deadly and you should not attempt to take her on your own. She is armed, so if you know her, call the number on the bottom of your screen right now.”

  “Oh, shit!” The Boss said, “Where did they get that photo of you?”

  “A while back, I invited the man who's place you took to my home. Once there, I seduced him easily enough, and my house had cameras and video recorders in the bedroom. Maybe weeks later, I'd look at the hot photos of me making love with a man or woman and enjoy the memories.”

  “I'm sure that's not all you did.”

  “Anyway, either my butler or driver sold some of my images to an agent from the United States. I personally killed both of them with a straight razor after having sex with them, and had their bodies dropped in the Atlantic Ocean about halfway to the states. The image of me on the television is a good one, because I'm just a second or two from an orgasm.”

  “So, what happened to the man I replaced?” The Boss got out of bed and started dressing.

  “His wife almost killed him when she shot him with his own pistol and he was flown to the United Kingdom for medical care. Seems some photos of me making her husband an extremely happy man angered her a great deal. The NWO knows the old President of the CSA sent the images to her. While he was in the hospital he was bitten by a poisonous spider not native to the area.”

  “Killed by an agent, in other words.”

  “Yes, a nurse, and she was killed in return. Why are you getting dressed? I'm not finished with you yet.”

  “We need to get the hell out of here now that your photo is being shown on national television.”

  “Well, if you think so, but I'll need you at a rest stop at some point this morning.”

 

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