Blood on the Water

by Mark Hildebrandt

  “Damn you Marcus!”

  The outburst sent a shiver down his spine because he didn’t know if his words were softening or strengthening her defenses. Was she preparing an all-out attack or some form of graceful surrender?

  “You selfish bastard. While you were steeped in self-pity and self-doubt, you let me sit in complete ignorance. We are a team, but if I’m not clear on the game plan, how can I participate? Are you really going to sit there and tell me you were afraid I might take the kids and leave? What, and go someplace safe like Cassandra did? If this madman, as you call him, is as powerful as you claim, there is no safe place. This villa is probably one of safest places on the planet.

  “Oh, Marcus by not trusting me and knowing without question I would stand with you, we have wasted an entire day fighting. A day that could have been spent planning a strategy to fight this battle.”

  Marcus felt as if one of the heaviest weights he had ever carried was being lifted off his chest. He slowly gently took Irena in his arms and pulled her close pausing long enough, so they could find each other’s lips. The kiss that followed contained all the passion of shared love, yet a kiss with the power to begin pushing aside the emotional detritus left in the wake of an argument. Marcus could feel a growing need to be more connected and began to gently lift Irena from the couch, but the flames were doused by cacophony of noise moving toward the patio. The kiss was broken, and both turned in the direction of the disturbance, only to find two small children, dressed for bed, sprinting directly for them.

  Verina leapt into Marcus lap and Titus into Irena’s, both talking far too rapidly for adult ears to comprehend. The family sat and talked as one, and the feeling of unity was exactly what Marcus needed to reinforce his desire to protect this most wonderful thing. After thirty minutes of tickling and hugging, Irena announced it was time for bed. Before the kids could cultivate a loud protest, Marcus grabbed each by the hand and took them upstairs. As the three were leaving, Irena called out to Marcus and told him to hurry back. She was having dinner served and would wait for him in the Triclinium.

  After getting the children down, Marcus collected his, by now warm cocktail, on the way into the Triclinium and took a couple of deep swallows. Irena was sitting with dinner spread out on the table, veal, pasta, salad and bread. She instructed the servant to pour wine and leave as soon as Marcus entered the room. “Are they asleep?” She asked as Marcus sat down next to her.

  “Not yet, but it won’t be long. The outdoor activity seemed to have drained their batteries.”

  They began eating, at first in silence, perhaps unsure were to begin, but both wanting to return to the feeling of shared closeness the children interrupted. “Marcus,” Irena began, “Tell me about this Kukulcan? Does he have Cassandra?”

  “No. Not yet.” Marcus took a drink of wine, which coupled with the quickly consumed martini was beginning to spread a pleasant familiar warmth. “And I don’t think he will either. We should have her back here in a day or two.”

  “What is Kukulcan after? Why is he trying to harm the family?”

  “He wants to prevent me from completing my work on the virus. I think by threatening the family, he feels he can delay the research long enough for the Emperor to become ill, or because of public outcry, is stripped of the Ministry of Health and the Environment.” Marcus wanted to tell Irena everything, but there were some things he needed to keep to himself, so he decided to tread lightly. “Kukulcan envisions himself as a kind of savior sent to overthrow the Empire.”

  “Is that what you told the Emperor?”

  Marcus paused and took another sip of wine, “You know it is difficult to tell the Emperor anything. He has disciplined his mind to concentrate on only one subject at a time. When I see him, he only thinks of the virus. So, when we met, I started describing the progress my team was making to capture his interest, and then changed to Kukulcan. At first, he told me the man was simply a Senator from a backwater province, and not much of a threat.” He paused and looked at Irena, who was listing intently. Took a sip of wine and continued. “I convinced him that was incorrect. The Senator planned to destroy my work, and with it the Empire. And to prevent Kukulcan from accomplishing his goals, I would need Imperial assistance. After a protracted discussion Claudius finally agreed and thanked me for bringing the matter to his attention. Then he told me, I was the only person he could trust to deal with the problem and gave me this.” Marcus reached inside his tunic and presented the Imperial Baton.

  Its meaning was not lost on Irena, at first, she looked like a little girl locked in a candy store, a look that was quickly transformed into a mixture of joy and lust. She did not try to hide her ecstasy, as she slid into Marcus’s lap. “Let me hold if for just a minute?” She implored. Smiling Marcus complied. “Oh, you can feel the power,” she said wide eyed. “Well that provincial Senator doesn’t stand a chance now. Not with Emperor Marcus Vespus after him.” Then moved closer placing the baton between her breasts and pressing both against Marcus’s chest. Slowly she began stroking his hair and with eyes full of desire stared into his and said, “I have always dreamed of making love to an Emperor.” After a quick, but playful kiss moved her lips next to his ear and breathily continued, “I’m so glad he is my husband, because I know all of his buttons,” and giggled mischievously. The giggle slowly faded and was replaced with a passionate kiss. “Join me in my lair,” she said like a true seductress, and arm in arm, but still holding the baton to her breasts, they moved to the bedchamber.

  Next to the bed, Irena halted Marcus, and began removing his clothing. But before she had finished, he interrupted the activity, and began kissing her and helping her out of her garments. Soon they were on the bed, exploring sensitive areas discovered during the frequent intimate sessions over the last twelve years. Their lips met again for a brief but intense kiss. Marcus then slowly slid from her mouth down her neck lingering in an area he knew would please, and then continued until he found her special spot. Irena started to protest, but was cut short, “You said something about buttons, well I know a few as well my love.” He said, and then slowly began circling the spot with his tongue. The result was exactly what he desired. Soon she was lost in the rhythmic pulses, he was sending through her lovely body. He matched the pace to her increased breathing, and soon there were barely audible moans mixed in. He used one hand to insure his tongue was not obstructed and made sure he was synchronized with her physical reactions; reactions that were becoming more intense as the pace quickened. He could feel her excitement building. Then it happened. Her body arched, and her moan transformed into something more guttural. He slowed his pace and stopped as she let a loud sigh escape and her body relaxed. He was never able to explain it to her, but this familiar act gave him as much pleasure, as he was certain she received. He loved her so much, being able to please her, pleased him as well.

  Marcus moved back to the top of the bed and was greeted with a kiss, and a slight chuckle, “You do know how to make me feel good.” She said, “Now it is your turn.” She pushed him over on his back and rolled on top of him. They were soon joined, and it was her turn to synchronize rhythm. Like a master with a Stradivarius, Irena manipulated the beat, which finally culminated in moans of pleasure from both.

  ◆◆◆

  For first time in a week, Marcus experienced a truly deep sleep that can only come from intense emotional and physical satisfaction. He awoke at five thirty with the slowly brightening eastern sky, bathed, dressed and went down stairs without disturbing Irena.

  He was greeted by one of the kitchen staff with a cup of coffee and took his regular seat in the Triclinium. “Just a roll, butter and melon this morning.” He told the staff member. The coffee was hot and strong just the way he liked it, although, he felt so refreshed this morning, he wasn’t sure the caffeine was necessary. One of the morning news programs was displayed on the wall viewer. He was buttering his roll when his personnel communicator alerted him to a call. Must be Josephus, he thoug
ht. I bet Cassandra is on the ship and all is well. This will be a good day.

  Marcus projected the call on the screen. It was indeed Josephus, “Good morning my friend. Is our team safe aboard the ship?” Josephus’s body language instantly alerted Marcus to a problem. “What is it Josephus? What’s wrong?”

  “Sir, our decum has not been able to board the vessel. It seems the beach landing area is filled with Militia. The Optio reports that patrols operating at close intervals have been combing the beach all night.”

  Damn Marcus thought. For a fine day this was not the best beginning, “Is there anything the Decum can do?”

  “The Optio said the patrols consist of about twenty-armed Militia. He is confident his team could eliminate one patrol, but if another were close behind it would present overwhelming odds. Plus, they were instructed to get out without making a mess.”

  Marcus sat back in his chair and glared at the screen, “I concur one hundred percent; no mess.” Especially considering the Emperors caution about bringing disgrace to the Imperial branch, he thought. “Josephus, do you have any suggestions?”

  “Not yet sir. I have ordered the Decum to retreat back into the bush while we develop an alternate extraction plan.”

  “That is a wise decision, but Josephus, we must get them off that island. The longer they remain the more likely they will be captured. Get them out, if some mess is required so be it, let’s just keep it to a minimum.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll contact you as soon as we have fleshed out a plan.”

  Almost on cue, the servant reappeared after contact was broken, and refilled Marcus’s coffee. “Will there be anything else sir?”

  “No, leave me.” Marcus then stared at the news program but was not absorbing any of the information being presented. He was lost in thought. How in the hell was he going to get Cassandra off that island without killing a bunch of local Militia, and creating a mess? As he sat chewing the problem in his mind, and a piece of melon in his mouth, his communicator once again announced he had an incoming call. That was quick, he thought, and displayed the call on the screen. When he looked up he almost ejected the melon he was chewing onto the table, fortunately he was able to maintain a perfectly calm facade. He was looking directly at Kukulcan. “What are you doing calling me on an open channel?”

  “Oh Marcus, I don’t think that makes much difference at this point in the game. The only people who could possibly be interested in our conversation, and would have the capability to monitor this call, are either working for you or me. I have nothing to hide from my people, what about you and yours?”

  This was one arrogant bastard, Marcus thought, “Point taken. Since we were not supposed to speak again, I am confused as to why you would interrupt my breakfast?”

  “I apologize for the early hour, but it seems because you have been … how should I say this … clumsy that I am forced to place this call. When this began, I never imagined you would be such a political neophyte, and such an unworthy adversary.” Kukulcan paused and was just smiling, displaying the contrast between his white teeth, dark eyes and black hair. The pause lasted long enough to become uncomfortable, the two combatants staring at each other. Marcus, however, was not about to break the silence. Obviously Kukulcan wanted something; he could be patient. He reasoned it would be better to let Kukulcan move first.

  “Very well Marcus. It seems you have something I want, and I have something you want. What’s more, I have something precious to you, and you have something precious to me. Now I am not prepared, at this early stage of the game, to declare a stalemate, so we need to arrange a trade, and that is the reason for my early morning call.”

  “Senator I’m not certain you have anything of mine, and I can’t think of anything of yours I might have taken?” Marcus just was not sure how good Kukulcan’s intelligence was and hoped to goad him into reveling more than he might want to.

  Kukulcan was shaking his head and seemed to be concealing a chuckle. “Marcus, you see, that is what I mean by unworthy adversary. Can we not even discuss this like true men of power? All right. Your sister and that Dr. Woodman are on my island surrounded by my troops. It will be a blood bath if you try to extract them by force, and you may or may not be successful. On the other hand, you have my son in police custody. Sedition was a pretty ingenious charge, but it is untrue. He is merely a simple priest for the Morning Star. Now that our cards are on the table, can we speak like men?”

  Marcus continued to maintain a blank and uninterested expression. “Very well. I agree with your synopsis. What do you suggest?”

  “That’s better. This whole thing was so sloppy, I suggest we make an even exchange, and move on.”

  Marcus could not see a down side to such an agreement. He would get what he needed and no mess. “I think that sounds reasonable. How do you suggest we conduct such an exchange?”

  “Simple. In one hour, I will clear all Militia from Cozumel’s eastern shore. You simply plan to have your ship surface, and your people can board unmolested. In exchange, also in one hour, you will allow my son to leave the police station in Uxmal. If he leaves, so too will your boat, if one is damaged than so will the other. Agreed?”

  “Agreed”

  “Good. So much for the opening moves, but I expect this to be a short game. It is not often I can make an opponent move his queen in the beginning rounds. Good day Marcus.”

  “One moment,” Marcus said before the image vanished. “I admit you are much better at this than I, and since you do not expect this to be much of a challenge, perhaps you could answer a question?” Kukulcan with an irritating, condescending smile merely nodded for Marcus to proceed. “How was it, you were about to locate my sister so quickly? She could have been anywhere on the planet, and we had been careful to isolate the compound from the information grid.”

  At first Kukulcan appeared puzzled, but his expression quickly changed to laughter once he fully understood the question, “Oh Marcus, even I did not realize you were such a novice. Very well.” The laughter had disappeared and was replaced with the confident look of a true master speaking to an inept pupil. “When one is looking for something, it is often best to start your search in places that have suddenly become difficult to see.”

  Chapter 21

  - After you or me -

  It was approaching midnight. Cassandra and James were sitting in a clump of bushes about hundred yards from the beach, and well hidden in the low dense vegetation. Since the Mayan Militia seemed to be content, patrolling only the beaches and easily maneuvered jungle trails, they were safe from detection. Optio had dispersed his men evenly in the underbrush leading to the beach, where they could monitor the frequency of the roving patrols and identify a gap large enough for the group to slip out to the waiting submersible just off shore.

  It was dark, and Cassandra could just make out James’s silhouette against the star filled sky peeking through the trees. She had to admit, she was impressed with his adaptability. To her, the last day and a half in the jungle was almost like a vacation. It seemed somehow ironic because most of the vacations she had taken since graduate school were wilderness trips, backpacking to remote locations. She found going on a typical vacation was more painful than fun. Being a Vespus was like being a celebrity, and people had very little regard for her privacy. If she went to a public beach, they would stare at her, always for periods much beyond her comfort zone, prompting her to leave. But the staring wasn’t the bad part, it was the ones who would attempt to act like old friends and try to initiate some inane conversation. It was all too much, and she was very happy to leave the crowds, and became an avid backcountry enthusiast. Of course, a Decum always accompanied her, even though she was hardly ever aware of their presents because just like in the cities, they seemed to blend into the background. But on this trip, thanks to James, she had learned the member’s names, and could almost tell them apart.

  She put her hand on his, and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Can you see anythi
ng?”

  “Just shadows. I sure would like to have a helmet like Optio and the rest of the Decum. With those built in sensors and night vision they can see everything, and I would like to know how close the Mayans are.”

  Cassandra shuddered for a moment. There was no doubt the Mayans meant business. Several times yesterday and last night, Militia patrols mistakenly opened fire into the dense underbrush with their primitive, chemically propelled projectile weapons. The projectiles may be primitive, but they nevertheless tore large holes in the vegetation, leaving no doubt that had one of them been in the line of fire, there would be little left.

  James had told her when they left the compound, people were coming for them, and he was right. Since then Cassandra realized, the Mayan Militia had a hard time differentiating between, kill or capture. The way they shot up the woods, it was obvious, kill first and interrogate latter were the instructions passed down to the troops.

  She leaned closer once again, “I’m damn glad the Legions would not allow the Militia to have any modern equipment. I’m pretty sure if they had the same technology as Optio we would be dead by now.”

  This time it was James turn to shudder, and Cassandra could easily sense it. “Yeah, I agree. I hope we can get a break in the patrols that sub should be surfacing soon.”

  Optio suddenly appeared at Cassandra’s left side. The sudden movement in the dark as well as his light touch almost prompted a scream. “There are patrols all over the beach. The bastards seem content to wait out there for us. They know, they don’t have a chance in the bush. We may … “Optio’s words were cut short as he turned his attention to the monitors in his helmet. “Team two, pay attention. You have a Mayan patrol not more than twenty feet away.” Silence followed his words, it was impossible to tell if Team Two was responding, or Optio was just watching. “Team Two, leave the bodies, and get back into the woods; there are two more Mayan patrols coming from opposite directions on the beach. Move it Legionnaires!” Optio then turned to Cassandra and James, “Get down on your bellies!”