The Diaries of Ayesha

I was skulking around London City Airport waiting for noon and my flight out of the country, still looking over my shoulder for any sign of pursuit from the local authorities after my sudden departure from the apartment of a Saudi prince.

Actually I still like to think of it as a tactical withdrawal with Mistress Miriam and Saphra providing rear guard action.

I was a little worried about the two of them, although I doubted that any charges would be filed against them just to avoid the diplomatic issues. I wasn't totally sure that the Prince would support my decision to leave, but as they say forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission in most cases.

I was still hoping that Wendolyn or the girls would arrive with my missing passport and the letter from the Prince but as it got closer to flight time I gave up and started walking towards the area marked for charter flight departures. A hand-lettered sign on one of the counters directed me to a flight of stairs for the BH Airways departure lounge.

Another sign at the foot of the stairs directed me to a door at the end of the corridor than opened directly onto the apron and I saw the airplane

It was a military issue C-47 also known as a DC-3. That didn't really bother me as the DC-3 has a performance record that most modern aircraft wish they had. Painted neatly on the nose was a picture of the Statue of Liberty holding a pie, which I found amusing, but if the man I saw was the pilot I was going to be very nervous.

He was checking the landing gear as I walked out and when he stood up I saw he was an older man wearing wire framed glasses with a pleasant look about him and I heard him whistling "In the Mood".

He was the living image of Glenn Miller.

"Hello, is this BH Airways?" I asked as he walked out from under the aircraft.

"Yes sir," he said with pride. "I take it you're my passenger for this flight?

"Well I'm a passenger, but I'm not sure about being the only one," I replied.

"Nope, you're it for this flight. Most people don't like to fly with cargo, but she said you wouldn't care."

"She?"

"Oh, Wendolyn. She and I go back aways," he explained. " I was a bit surprised when she called, but happy to hear from her. Where are your bags?"

"Don't have any, I'm traveling light," I said as he walked me back towards the cargo door near the rear of the plane.

"Ok, then get aboard and grab a seat any where you like. We'll take off in a few minutes and arrive in Tel Aviv in time for a midnight snack," he said helping me in.

"Midnight?" I asked following him forward towards the nose of the plane.

He turned and looked at me.

"We're not a jet you know. Takes about 12 hours to fly to Tel Aviv from here. Are you in a hurry?"

I thought about that question before I answered it. If there were going to be any kind of official interception the people involved would assume I was flying jet and try and arrive ahead of me.

Flying prop, I would actually arrive one step behind the sheriff so to speak and throw everybody with the exception of Wendolyn off stride.

"Take the scenic route Captain," I said sitting down just aft of the cockpit bulkhead in one of the eight available seats.

"Captain is the nicest thing anybody has said to me all day," he said and walked back to close the cargo hatch as another man wearing a battered Stetson hat climbed in.

"Nice of you to join us today," the Captain said with a hint of sarcasm as the man walked towards the front of the cabin.

"Now you know I've never missed a flight yet," the man in the Stetson drawled in a broad Texas accent. "Jest had to pay a visit to my gal before leaving."

The Captain closed the hatch and walked back forward and nodded towards the cockpit where the other man was settling into the co pilot's seat.

"It's true he never has missed a flight yet, but I have had to pour him aboard one or two times. Strap yourself in and we'll be on our way," he said as he passed me.

I fastened the belt tightly as the engines sputtered to life and then settled into a steady roar as the Captain called through the still open door to the cockpit.

"Welcome aboard Flight 009, this is Captain Buddy Rodgers and your co-pilot for the day is Holly Wood and we'll be flying to Tel Aviv via either Rome or Athens depending on headwinds. The flight will take about 12 hours or so at an average airspeed of 175 miles per hour, maybe a little longer depending on cargo pickups from where ever we land. Once we're in the air one of us will show you where the coffee is and you can help yourself. Thanks for flying Buddy Holly Airways."

Oh Goddess. If I ever had questions as to Wendolyn's sense of humor, they were answered.

It didn't take long to become airborne although not as short a time as Mistress Jazmyne's stunt with the Gulfstream had taken and soon we were droning along without a care in the world.

A quick stop in Rome to unload and pick up cargo and grab some food was followed by another few hours of flight that ended just after two AM in Tel Aviv.

I had called Vicky Feldshiemer from Rome to advise her that I was enroute and after some complaining about the short notice on her part, she agreed to meet me at the airport and clear me through customs.

Now a word about Israeli airport security: Strict.

Even though we were a cargo aircraft, all three of us had to go through a barrage of questions as well as a search of our personal luggage by stone faced security police.

When they got to me the problem was exacerbated by my lack of a passport or any kind of personal luggage. Before the situation could get any worse and the questions any more pointed, a dark skinned slender woman appeared at the exit gate of the customs area and came forward as I stepped up to the agent.

"This man is a guest of the government," she said flashing an ID card at the officer." He has full diplomatic rights."

"He hasn't got a passport or any luggage Major," the officer protested.

"Sergeant, do you always questions the orders of a superior officer?" she snapped.

The officer quickly snapped a salute to her and waved me through.

She waited until we were outside the building before speaking to me and when she did, I'd wished she hadn't.

"How could you come here unprepared? When I have to use my official position it jeopardizes everything," she scolded.

"Sorry Major, but it wasn't like I had a real choice. I had to leave in a hurry, or I might not have been able to leave at all," I apologized.

"Forget the Major part," she said with a wave. "So far there hasn't been any alert for you, so I will assume that someone quashed any official inquiry as to your departure. We'll leave for Iraq in the morning," she said leading me to a parked Land Rover that appeared in the lights from the parking lot to be painted in a light pink shade.

"I've got a number I need checked out before we go anywhere. I'm supposed to call it when we arrive in Iraq," I explained as we got it.

"We can check it out from the warehouse," she said. "Is there anything else?

"I need to check in with a couple of other people in the morning, that is if you have a secure line I can use."

"I do. At least reasonably secure. We are at war, at least unofficially, in this country," she reminded me.

"I'm not going to compromise anything or any one. I just need to call RJ in Kuwait and let him know we're on."

"RJ Preston? I feel a little better about this whole thing now if he's involved," she said with relief in her voice.

"He's one of my insurance policies for getting out intact and the other, well that one might or might not turn up," I explained.

"That is not filling me with confidence."

"Me either."

Early the next morning during breakfast I called RJ from Atlas International Packaging and informed him the game was afoot.

"Got it. I'll give our Saudi brother a call and we'll get set up," he acknowledged

"Fair warning, he might be a little cranky. I kinda pissed off his London chief of security the other day."

"You? No, I can't believe you could piss anybody off," he said sweetly.

"Very funny. Incidentally, I got a phone number to call once I reach Iraq. You interested?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"1 964 887-2006."

"Some where in Baghdad from the prefix. I'll make arrangements with No Such Agency to monitor it and any other connection that they call after yours. "

"I'm not going to ask how you're going to arrange that. I don't think I want to know."

"You don't have a need to either. We'll be waiting to exfiltrate you when the time comes if necessary."

"How will you know where to pick us up?"

"Trust me," he said and hung up leaving the question unanswered.

"Was that the number you wanted me to check?" Vicky asked setting her bagel down.

"Yes."

"It belongs to the Iraqi Ministry of Industry and Military Industrialization."

I just looked at her questioningly.

"It's a published number and anybody who has to ship anything to Iraq has to get clearance from them," she explained.

"Well that makes things even more interesting. An official connection between the abduction and the Iraqi government."

She shook her head.

"Semiofficial at best. A lot of people use that office, although their nuclear program is based there. Are you really trying to tie the Iraqi government to this affair?"

"Not really. I'm not honestly interested in getting my hands on the clowns who designed that bomb you and Mei Ling were faced with. I just like to know who all the players involved are," I admitted.

"This should be a very easy exchange. When we arrive in Baghdad you can call the number. We get your mistress and Lydia and leave the country. That is assuming someone doesn't try a double cross."

"And that is why RJ and a couple of other people are in the loop. Incidentally how had you planned on getting me into the country?" I asked.

"Look in your wallet," she directed.

I shrugged and pulled my wallet out and started looking through it.

Drivers license, credit card, company ID, Blockbuster card, library card, press card.

Press card.

I pulled it out of the stack and flashed it.

"Very good. I see you do have some grasp of the advantages of the press. As a reporter you are not subject to the travel restrictions on US citizens. And in my position as an import/export agent, I have no problems at all so far as the Iraqi's are concerned. I've worked with them in the past enough to establish my credentials even as I was keeping track of what they were buying for Shin Bet's use. We wouldn't want them to have anything too lethal," she explained.

"Is that the imperial we as in "We are not amused" or the Kali we or the Shin Bet we?" I asked.

"For you, they're all the same. It's much simpler for you to deal with."

"It's the simple things in life you know," I said taking a bite of my bagel.

"It's not complicated if you know the rules of the game. As well as how to break them without getting caught," she said with no small amount of pride.

We were interrupted at that moment by the arrival of a messenger with two packages addressed to Vicky and myself from Wendolyn.

Inside the smaller one was my passport, the letter from the Prince and a note that simply said "ET phone home" and the larger contained my travel bag with fresh clothing.

Vicky snorted at the "ET phone home" but handed me the phone.

Wendolyn picked up on the first ring.

"You rang?" I asked in a sonorous tone.

"I did. You can stop worrying about the girls. I had a short talk with Mr. Azir and suggested that he really didn't want me explaining the circumstances under which you left to his Highness. I understand they went off to Saphra's school to wait for your return."

"Thank you," I said relieved.

"You're welcome. It's been awhile since I had to deal with someone like that and I'd forgotten how much fun it could be."

"Any last minute advice Ma'am?" I asked.

"Be careful Michael. I don't like the idea of losing you as well as Minkin."

"I will be. I'll call you soon."

I hung up the phone and finished my bagel quickly as Vicky started gathering up materials and putting them in a briefcase.

"Let's go," she said snapping the case shut. "It's a long drive to Baghdad."

"Drive?"

"There is still an embargo about flights into Iraq, so it's drive in or nothing. Unless you'd like to take a chance on being shot down by the US Air Force."

"I'll pass. How far is it to drive?"

"It's about a full day drive assuming that everything goes as planned."

When I got a good look at the Land Rover in the daylight, I discovered that it was indeed painted a light pink shade right down to the tires.

"What's with the color?" I asked tossing my bags into the back of it.

"It's British military surplus. It's called a Pink Panther. They were designed for the British SAS for desert patrol use," she explained.

"Pink?" I repeated.

"You'll understand when we get into the desert," she rebuked. "It has a hundred gallon gas tank, room for four with the gun mounts removed. Lots of stowage for water cans and other equipment. I've got a GPS receiver mounted as well as the sun compass that came with the unit. I've also got the radio gear that came with it both HF, and UHF air to ground as well as a cell phone."

"I'm impressed," I said getting in. "What are those tubes on the fenders?"

"Launchers for smoke grenades."

"Is this thing registered?"

"Of course."

"As what? Conventional or nuclear?"

She ignored that and lifted up the canvas covering a box between the driver seat and mine and showed me the water bottles and the sand goggles as well as a US issue .45 caliber pistol in a hidden compartment.

"We shouldn't need a gun on this trip, but you never know," she shrugged. "I usually pack an AK-47 when I'm in the disputed areas."

"This is your part of the world, not mine so I'll defer to your better judgement."

"Good. You might live longer that way."

You can insert a few bars of "On the Road again" here if you like because we surely were.

From Tel Aviv through Jerusalem to the Jordanian border through the checkpoint and then up into the hills that line the banks of the Jordan River where we stopped and looked back down into the valley.

"From this point on we're on our own. Just follow my lead where we're talking to people and don't say anything you don't have to," she advised.

"As you wish," I said. "Shall I stay three steps behind you when we're walking?"

The temperature in the Rover dropped about a hundred degrees with the look she gave me and I quickly apologized.

That pretty much killed off any further conversation until we reached Amman, the capitol of Jordan about an hour later and pulled into a McDonalds.

Yes I said a McDonalds, Big Mac's and all.

It wasn't until after lunch and we had topped off the fuel tanks in the Rover and were back on the road again that she spoke to me again this time in a less harsh tone.

"I'm sorry if I seemed unkind earlier, but you're not a professional intelligence agent. I've read your file and you do very well, but the fact remains that you haven't had any formal training. To be honest it's given you an advantage over us as you are very unpredictable."

"Thank you Mistress, I think" I ventured.

"The Iraqi's are not going to deal well with that at all and they have a tendency to destroy what they don't understand. Keeping you on a short leash may well keep you alive and I do have an obligation to do that for now."

"And later?"

"As much as I hate it you are the best chance Kali has to find Lydia and my personal loyalty is to her. If she wants you dead, I will try and kill you."

I looked at her disdainfully.

"With all due respect, as they say when you're buying suppositories, with friends like you who needs enemas?"

She looked shocked and then for the first time smiled.

"I've been called much worse," she replied.

We kept driving East on Route 30 through Trebel to the Jordanian border with Iraq where we were halted at a military checkpoint and directed to get out of the Rover by a group of soldiers and escorted into an office while the Rover was searched.

The Captain in charge of the checkpoint examined my press card and passport carefully and then Vicky's and then laid them down carefully on the desk in front of him as a portrait of Saddam Hussein hanging on the wall beamed at us over his shoulder

"And your reason for visiting our country?" he asked.

"I have personal business here and my partner is in the import/export business."

He picked up the documents and looked through them again and shook his head.

"I'm not going to be able to let you pass without authority from Baghdad," he said.

"Perhaps if you called the Ministry of Industry we could speed this process up a little, I said looking at Vicky. "I have a number right here."

He frowned as he read it off the card I gave him and then picked up the phone and dialed and then spoke a few sentences of Arabic into the phone.

He seemed somewhat startled by the reply and darted a glance at the two of us as he completed the conversation.

"I have orders to provide an escort for you to Baghdad and make sure you arrive safely. There are occasionally bandits that attack single travelers," he said smoothly.

"Thank you for your concern," Vicky said picking up the documents and handing me my passport and press card. "Shall we go?"

The Captain gave orders to two of his men who climbed in a jeep and pulled up behind the Rover as Vicky and I got back in.

The gate was raised and we pulled through, the jeep trailing behind us by a short distance.

"Bandits?" I asked checking the rear view mirror as we drove through the desert.

"Saddam isn't all that popular with a large number of people in Iraq and there are occasional raids against travelers, but I think this is more to make sure we get where we're supposed to go rather than anything else," Vicky explained.

We drove through territory that ranged from raw desert wasteland to land that reminded me of New Mexico in many ways, empty space broken by lava from an old volcanic flow in some places and then as we turned south more greenery as we started following the Euphrates River.

Incidentally, Vicky was right about the coloration of the Rover. A lot of the land we crossed was a reddish shade and pink would be perfect camouflage

At one point we slowed to a stop to let a herd of sheep be driven across the road as the soldiers from the jeep shouted at the herdsman who just ignored the curses and kept moving the animals along.

"These people have been herding their animals for years and a few curses aren't going to change their ways," Vicky said with amusement.

"I guess not. Did the war affect them much?" I asked.

"It changed their trade routes and their grazing patterns, but it didn't change their way of life much. They ignore borders completly and pass from Iraq to Iran to Saudi Arabia to Kuwait unmolested."

"Useful under a bizarre set of circumstances," I commented as the last of the herd passed us.

"Quite," she said with a look that indicated she knew exactly what I was thinking.

It was after dark when we pulled up to the Iraqi Ministry of Industry and Military Industrialization in Nidhal Street and stopped. The two soldiers who had escorted us to Baghdad then escorted us inside the building and presented us to the security officer on duty, saluted and left.

The Captain on duty examined our documents and asked what our business was.

"I'm here with Mr. Forbin to arrange the import of some equipment that was ordered before the embargo," Vicky said opening her briefcase and handing him a folder.

He examined the documents and then looked at me sharply.

"You are aware of the restrictions on importation of this equipment?" he asked.

"I am." I replied.

"Then I must place you both in custody for smuggling," he said pressing a button on his desk." You will be escorted to a Presidential palace"

"Don't you mean the Presidential Palace?" I asked as the guards walked in.

"He has more than one."

We were escorted to a panel truck and locked in the back and then the truck started moving.

"Well here's another fine mess you've got me into Ollie," I said to Vicky.

"Hardly. It was your plan," she retorted.

"You know these people better than I do. Since when do they care about the embargo?"

"I don't think they do. They're just very suspicious right now and holding us is their only real option. Unless of course you'd prefer they shoot us instead."

"Might happen yet. Presidential Palace could be a polite word for prison."

"It could be. Or a vacation retreat, or a military facility or a lot of other things. We'll just have to wait."

We didn't have to wait too long as the truck came to a halt and the doors opened up. A uniformed man with dark hair and a short cropped beard motioned for us to get out and we stepped down to find ourselves staring at what looked like a hotel, except for the armed guards patrolling the area.

"If you would follow me please, your rooms are being made ready," the uniformed man invited.

"Where are we exactly?" I asked.

"This is the residence at Tharthar," he said leading the way up the steps into the building with a guard close behind the two of us." Only special guests are invited here."

The decor was impressive to say the least with gold plated door handles and white marble floors gleaming everywhere. Of course when you're a dictator you can most assuredly have it your way.

We were escorted to a suite of rooms that would do a five star hotel proud and unlike a five star hotel, we were then locked in for the night, although we were assured that in the morning we would be escorted to breakfast.

"It's a gilded cage," Vicky said after checking the doors and windows.

"It is a wery nice gilded cage," I said in a Russian accent.

"Very funny. Oh well, I'm sure when they check with higher authority we'll be just fine," she said sitting down in a silk padded chair.

"And if not?"

"I doubt they're going to shoot us. Too much trouble. They'll probably just order us out of the country."

I almost replied that I wasn't leaving without my wife when it occurred to me the room may well be bugged.

I looked around and made the signs for the three monkeys: Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and See No Evil.

I don't know the sign for Have No Fun.

She looked confused for a moment and then announced she needed to use the bathroom and inclined her head to indicate I should follow.

In the bathroom she turned the shower on as well as the sink.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"I didn't want to say anything aloud, but I think the room is probably bugged."

"Oh I'm sure it is. Just ignore it and don't say anything you wouldn't want to say to Saddam himself."

"Very funny. I'm serious."

"We're here by invitation, or at least you are. And I've done enough business with them where they've already checked me out more than once. One of their known agents was snooping around the warehouse as soon as the shipment arrived, so they're not ignorant of the situation."

"Do you think they know about the modifications to the shipment?" I asked with some concern.

"I doubt it. The changes were made before the shipment was delivered to the warehouse."

"Then we shall play the game as if it were blind instead of only clouded," I said.

"What?"

"Old Klingon proverb. Forget it."

"I never understood Star Trek fans," she mused.

"Don't worry, they don't understand mundanes either."

I slept on the couch in the main room that night more out of habit than necessity as the bed in the sleeping area was big enough for four people. I wasn't going to press my luck by sleeping with the enemy so to speak.

I was awakened by a knock on the door which was then opened by the same man who escorted us inside the night before, but this time he was dressed in white flowing robes rather than a uniform.

"Mr. Forbin, if you and your companion would like breakfast I would be honored to escort you", he offered politely.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and then rose from the couch.

"I have a rule about eating with people I don't know," I said warily as I knocked on the bedroom door.

"As do I. I am Hassan Shaid and I am in charge of the comfort of the guests here," he said by way of introduction.

"And the military uniform last night?"

"I wear it to establish a chain of command as you would call it," he explained as an annoyed Vicky opened the door and glared at me.

"Yes?"

The tone in her voice indicated she was not a morning person

"We've been invited to breakfast by Mr. Shaid," I explained.

She looked at him and then back at me.

"Five minutes for necessities," she warned and shut the door again.

"Your companion seems a bit upset this morning," Hassan said calmly.

"I'm just hiding it better than she is," I warned slipping on my shoes.

"I understand. You came to help and were accused of committing a crime. I have been told that it is a misunderstanding."

"I'm sure it was," I replied." But I'd rather not discuss it from inside a cage, despite the fine decor."

He smiled broadly and bowed as Vicky walked back into the room and joined us.

"I'm sure you will find the palace to be very comfortable. Shall we go to breakfast?"

We followed him out and down a long hallway and then into a small garden area where a buffet was laid out and other people were dining at tree shaded tables scattered across the greensward.

Looking around I could see security men patrolling along the wall of the palace their weapons at the ready for any sign of intrusion or escape.

"Please help yourselves," Hassan said and wandered away to speak to some people at a table near the steps into the garden.

"Don't ask for bacon whatever you do," Vicky warned me as we joined the buffet line.

I raised an eyebrow at that.

"I'm not totally ignorant of the local culture thank you," I retorted. "I had cold cereal and milk in mind today at any rate."

We picked a table away from the majority after selecting our meal and settled down for a low voiced discussion about our new best friend.

"The man was wearing Iraqi intelligence insignia last night on his uniform and today he's playing innkeeper," Vicky commented.

"Well Mr. Rourke he's not. I don't think he's just here to make sure that everyone has enough towels either," I replied sipping my milk.

"The question is how much does he really know and how much is he trying to pump us for," Vicky summarized.

"I'd going to assume he knows everything and is looking for us to confirm it," I said.

"Best course of action really. How did you phrase it last night, as if the game was clouded instead of hidden?"

"Blind instead of only clouded. The representative from the government is going to be the key to it all as to how we play it. I'm going to leave that to you by the way."

She looked at me startled.

"You trust me to handle getting your wife back?" she asked in genuine confusion.

"Look, you know these people and I don't. I have to trust you, even though you don't like me or have much confidence in me. You are the expert on the scene and I'm just the man who carries the can or in this case tubing," I explained.

"I will do my best Michael," she assured me.

After breakfast and a walk around the grounds under the watchful eyes of the guards, we went back to the room where Vicky laid down for a nap and I spent the next few hours trying to watch Iraqi television and finally gave up, as the language barrier was too high for me to scale.

I can generally watch television in European languages and get at least the general idea of what was going on, but this time I failed completly.

Although I have to tell you Magnum P.I. in Spanish is a major hoot to watch.

It was near sundown when the door was unlocked and this time Hassan came in dressed in his military uniform up to and including side arm and with a less deferential attitude this time.

"The both of you are to come with me," he said brusquely.

"Is there a problem Captain?" Vicky said reading his rank insignia.

"I have orders to escort you to the Ministry for a meeting."

"Excellent. Lead the way," she said.

"On the contrary, after you," he said placing his hand on the butt of his pistol.

We were taken back to the office in Baghdad that we had first contacted and met with the same Captain who had ordered us taken into custody the night before.

"I have determined that you are agents of the United States Government trying to entrap us in a violation of international law. You will be expelled from the country tonight," he said as we sat and two guards took their places inside the office.

So much for doing it the safe and sane way. Time to pull the James T Kirk maneuver: Change the conditions of the test

"I was invited here by an agent of your government in London and you know it, so lets cut the screwing around, " I bristled. "If you don't want the tubing, that's fine with me, kick us out."

"Please excuse my friend here, he's overcome by the heat," Vicky said quickly. "Michael, shut up."

"Look lady, I've been as diplomatic as I can be under the circumstances, but I'm here to do business and obviously they're not," I said in disgust.

"You claim you were contacted by an agent of my government. Where and when did the contact take place?" the Captain asked skeptically.

"Royal Albert Hall," I said and pulled out the card with the phone number on it and tossed it on his desk." Look familiar? Incidentally, your man with the symphony should make sure he's not tailed the next time. Followed him right back to the apartment building next to the Embassy in London."

Before the Captain could say anything else the phone on his desk rang.

He ignored it and just stared at the two of us switching his gaze from one of us to the other like a cat flicking its tail.

There was a knock at the door and one of the guards opened it cautiously at first and then seeing who was outside finished opening it saluting as he did so.

"General Hussein sir," the guard stammered.

I turned to see a portly man in a Generals uniform strut in and wait as the Captain saluted him.

"Captain, do you always ignore your telephone?" the General asked sarcastically.

"I'm sorry sir. I was in the middle of something," the Captain said saluting.

"So I gathered. Are these the two people who were guests at the Presidential Palace last night?"

"Yes sir. I was just ordering their deportation as agents of the United States," the Captain said picking up a file and handing it to the General.

"General, would you please tell this man that we're not here as anything as other than businessmen," I said turning to him.

The General ignored me and closed the file.

"Are these all the files on this incident?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll take over from this point Captain," he said tucking the file under his arm.

"Yes General as you say," the Captain agreed.

"Should I worry now?" I asked Vicky who rolled her eyes.

"Silence!" the Captain snapped.

"That's all right Captain, let him speak. His ignorance amuses me," the General said lightly.

"I'm glad you find me amusing sir, " I countered.

"Guards, take them to my office and hold them there," the General ordered. "And Captain, next time answer your telephone when it rings."

"Yes Sir!"

The guards escorted us up a flight of stairs to another office and pushed us into chairs as General Hussein joined us.

"You can wait outside. I don't think that they intend to harm me," General Hassan ordered the guards as he took a 9mm pistol from his desk drawer and placing it in easy reach of his right hand.

The guards saluted and marched outside closing the door behind them.

"Michael Forbin also known as Charles Forbin also known as Michael Forbin-Dawes, " General Hussein said reading the file he had taken from the captain. "Married to Minkin Christina Dawes, and the file says you are also an author. What is it you write?"

"Tourist guides," I said brightly. "I seem to spend a lot of my time traveling and exploring the highways and byways of the world. I'm also a soldier, a statesman and a friend to the working girl."

"Amusing,' he said in tones that said he was anything but amused. "Your companion is known to us as a supplier of equipment to our military and industries."

"And you are?" Vicky asked calmly.

" I am General Ahmad Hussein and I am in charge of acquiring equipment for certain projects for my government."

"You are in charge of equipment supply for your country's nuclear program to be more specific. I take it you planned the operation to contact Mr. Forbin and use his family contacts to breach the embargo," Vicky said as a statement of fact.

The General inclined his head in acknowledgement.

My apologies for not being here to meet you when you arrived last night. I was detained by State business," the General said.

" I notice that once I mentioned an invitation it didn't take long for you to appear. Interesting timing by the way."

"Not at all Mr. Forbin. I am in charge of covert operations inside the Ministry."

"In other words, you had his office bugged and were listening to everything," I said shortly.

He just waved a hand idly at that statement.

"I would be remiss in my duties if I did not monitor my subordinates carefully."

"Makes it harder to stage a coup as well, " I added.

"Indeed. There is a new difficulty that may make your visit unproductive. When arrangements were made to contact you, I was unaware of the special circumstances surrounding the group in question. It seemed a straight forward case of assisting for a small token in return."

" I'd hardly call committing an act of treason by arranging to deliver dual use technology a small token," I countered. "Forgive me General, but if you are as well informed as I think you are, you know the terms are not negotiable."

"The matter is being handled at a higher level than mine. The group that brought your wife and her friend here are providing valuable services to my country."

"I think we can come to some sort of arrangement with them if we can have some time to discuss the matter with them in person," Vicky suggested.

"It could be arranged but I cannot promise that they will listen or if they do, that my government will agree with the terms," the General warned.

"Fine," I said digging the now battered envelope from the Prince out of my coat pocket." I suggest you pass this to higher authority."

He took it and examined the crest on the seal and slid it into the folder with the file taken from the Captain.

"I was unaware of your connection with the Royal Family," the General mused." Unless it is a clever forgery."

"I have some interesting relatives by marriage General. You might advise higher authority of that little point as well. "

"Perhaps you are right Mr. Forbin."

"I know I'm right General. I'm staking my life on it."

"Yes, you are," he said grimly.

We were driven back to the Palace and escorted to a different area of the grounds and given a somewhat less ornate room by comparison to the previous night's accommodations. Actually it was a change from the Mark Hopkins to Motel 6 without Tom Bodette by comparison.

"Captain Shaid will arrange for a meeting with the Christian group in the morning and report the results of the discussion directly to me," The General explained as he delivered us back into the hands of our genial host of the previous night after addressing Captain Shaid in Arabic.

"And if we can't come to an agreement of some sort?" I asked.

"I'm sure Ms Feldshiemer and yourself can be very persuasive when necessary. Good night."

And with that he walked out of the room, Captain Shaid trailing like a puppy on a leash, closing the door behind him

As the lock clicked shut I turned towards Vicky in time to catch a sharp punch to the jaw. When I shook off the blurred vision I found myself laying on the floor with a bleeding mouth and Vicky planting a booted foot in the middle of my chest.

"If you ever do anything that stupid again I will personally cut your tongue out," she said coldly." You are welcome to risk your life on your time by being insolent, but not mine."

"If I hadn't opened my big mouth, we would both be on a slow boat back to Jordan or wherever," I said wiping the blood off my face.

"I don't think you have any idea we you are dealing with. The General is a cousin of Saddam himself, hand picked for his loyalty, a member of the Republican Guard."

"Maybe he's just Republican. You know, "Business is business."

"You'd better hope so. What was in that letter you gave him?" she asked raising her boot from my chest.

"The recipe for great egg salad. Egg salad so good you could plotz."

She rammed her boot down again, this time into my stomach.

"Tell me damn you!" she demanded.

"It's a letter from a Saudi prince demanding we be given safe passage out of Iraq," I grunted.

She walked away and I rolled over and crawled onto the bed.

"And you didn't tell me this earlier because?" she asked.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to use it. It's a diplomatic sort of letter that really means harm one hair on their pointed little heads and we'll go medieval on your ass and the prince who wrote it is the head of the Saudi National Guard," I groaned.

"Jesus," she swore.

"More like Allah actually," I said getting to my feet and heading for the bathroom to wash the blood off me.

While I was in the bathroom, there was a knock at the door and I heard Vicky speaking to someone and when I came out there was a covered tray sitting on the table.

"Compliments of the General," Vicky said removing the cover to reveal a pair of steaks and a pair of baked potatoes and all of the fixings.

"Trotting out the fatted calf I guess," I said sitting down at the table.

"I suppose so," she said. "At least it won't be poisoned."

"After you Mistress," I said handing her a knife and fork.

"No confidence in my judgement slave?" she said taking the utensils from me and cutting off a long strip of steak that she bit into with gusto.

"Habit. The Mistress always eats first," I said politely.

"Eat your dinner. Tomorrow is another day."

Tomorrow was indeed another day that dawned all too early for my taste but I hadn't slept much anyway considering the upcoming meeting. I hoped that someone was going to be reasonable and I was hoping it wouldn't have to be me.

A guard knocked on the door shortly after seven o'clock and then entered with a tray of food and removed the remains of dinner from the night before without comment.

There was a note on the tray from Captain Shaid telling us that he had arranged for a meeting with the Christians in Action at ten in the gardens behind the main palace.

"Mistress, time to rise and shine," I said standing a discreet distance away.

"What time is it?" she growled.

"Almost seven-thirty," I said. "Breakfast is here and we have a ten o'clock meeting with the Christians."

"Seven thirty in the morning you idiot," she snarled," and you wake me up for a ten 'o'clock meeting. Are you always this stupid?"

"I'm anxious maybe, but I'm not stupid thank you very much, " I snapped back.

"Let me give you a hint about this. You need to go into this with a calm relaxed attitude as if nothing mattered," she said sitting up in bed.

"I forgot my peril sensitive sunglasses at home."

"Your what?"

"Peril sensitive sunglasses. At the slightest hint of danger they turn totally black so you can't see what's happening."

"I am not having this discussion," she said laying back down and pulling the covers over her head.

"Then I am having breakfast," I countered and sat down at the table.

Vicky finally got up around nine, ate her now cold scrambled eggs and toast and then took a shower.

"If you'd like to share the shower with me you can scrub my back," she offered.

"Thank you Mistress," I said and stripped to join her.

"This is just to get clean so don't get any ideas," she said as I washed her back.

"Yes Mistress."

"You can wash my front too if you like," she said turning around to face me.

I hesitate for a minute and then attended to my work, trying to keep in mind that she was technically the enemy.

She smirked at my discomfort as I ran the washcloth carefully over the curve of her breasts, trying not to squeeze or otherwise start something I couldn't or shouldn't finish.

"Is there a problem slave?" she asked with sweet sarcasm.

"Not when I started Mistress," I said scrubbing her belly and then working my way down to her inner thighs.

"Good."

I managed to finish the job without incident although there was a close call as I washed between her legs and my hand slipped, stroking her clit which caused her to shudder in return before her hand slapped mine away.

"Mind your manners slave."

"Slippery when wet Mistress."

"Excuses, excuses."

We had just finished getting dressed when there was a knock on the door and Captain Shaid entered and bowed.

"I'm here to escort you to the meeting," he said. "I hope you enjoyed your dinner last night."

"It was very good Captain, please send my compliments to the chef and the General," Vicky said easily as she started towards the door.

Captain Shaid started to block her and then thought better of it and instead led the way carrying her briefcase.

Sitting at the table we had used for breakfast the previous day was a man in his thirties in a suit and tie with blonde hair with a small gold pin in the shape of a cross on his right lapel.

"Good morning," he said casually offering his hand to me. "I'm called Gabriel and you are Mr. Forbin and Miss Feldshiemer. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I shook hands with him and so did Vicky.

"I suggest we get down to business," Captain Shaid said curtly.

"As you wish Captain," she said turning her full attention onto Gabriel." Mr. Forbin has given me full authority to negotiate, so I'll just start by saying that our terms are nonnegotiable. We want the two women that were brought here from your former location. In return, we'll deliver the tubing you need for your weapons program. Also there will be no attempt on our part to prosecute or otherwise interfere with the activities of the Christians in Action in Iraq."

Gabriel looked somewhat discomforted by Vicky speaking so bluntly, but recovered quickly.

"I'm afraid that I haven't got the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said glibly.

"Gabriel, we know all about Project Mediggo. In fact we were responsible for the television broadcast that freaked your boss out. I was there when we found and defused your bomb under the Temple Mount, so lets cut the bullshit and get down to cases. We're ready to deal, are you?"

The recitation of facts put him off again.

"I've never been in Lebanon and I haven't got two women prisoners," he denied.

"I never said Lebanon," Vicky pounced." And as to the prisoners, we know you have them because General Hussein invited us here to negotiate for them."

That pissed him off and he vented his displeasure in the direction of Captain Shaid.

"I was assured by the President that we had total autonomy in how we did our work and handled our business as long as we delivered. The General had no right to interfere, " he protested.

"The General is responsible to the President as well and the delay in getting critical supplies due to the embargo required him to take these steps. I have spoken with the General and he would like this matter resolved as quickly as possible," Captain Shaid advised.

"I understand what the General wants Captain, but I have my responsibilities to others. You may be willing to trust in their good intentions, but I can not risk it. We lost a great deal of time due to their interference."

"If you hadn't screwed up the subcritical assemblies and made such a big gamma signature that everybody and his brother detected it you might have made your timetable," I said tartly. " Praise the Goddess you didn't. Captain, I have to tell you that the quality of their work is pretty shoddy from the reports I read on it."

"That will be enough Michael," Vicky warned. "Although I do have to agree in principle."

Captain Shaid looked interested in what I was saying at that point, but Gabriel quickly moved to take control of the discussion again.

"What assurance do we have that you will not report any of this to the government?" he asked pointedly.

"The fact we're breaking a very serious federal law to get your stuff to you," Vicky reminded him. "Mr. Forbin isn't interested in spending the next twenty years in Leavenworth if he can avoid it."

Gabriel leaned back in his chair and stared at the sky for a few minutes and then faced us again.

"I will have to consult with others before I can give you a final decision," he declared.

"Fine. There is one more thing. We'd like to see the two people in question to assess their physical and mental condition," Vicky added.

"That won't be possible," he said.

"Then we're out of here," I said standing up. "We don't even know if they're alive or not."

"I can't allow you to see the prisoners until I consult with my superiors," he said with an apologetic look that meant nothing.

Captain Shaid cleared his throat and frowned.

"I think an exception could be made in this case Gabriel. As I told you the General wants this handled quickly and they are not your prisoners alone, they are our prisoners as well," he said pointedly.

"But Captain --" Gabriel started to protest and then closed his mouth at the poisonous look from Captain Shaid. "Oh very well, but I will hold you responsible for any trouble with the General."

"I am always responsible to the General. And he is always responsible to our Leader. As are you," Captain Shaid said icily. "Don't forget that."

"Very well Captain. They can see the prisoners," Gabriel said ungraciously.

It was a long dark walk as Gabriel led Captain Shaid and us carefully down a flight of stairs and through a long tunnel to a set of cells where a guard sat reading a magazine in the dim light of the naked light bulb overhead.

"You're keeping them down here?" I said glaring at Gabriel.

"We tried giving them better quarters and even some freedom of movement, but they both insisted on trying to escape. One of them dislocated the shoulder of one of our people and the other kicked one in a," he coughed politely, "delicate portion of his anatomy. General Hussein ordered us to hold them in a more secure location and this was the only place I could think of."

"I'd suggest you try harder," I said bitterly. "How long have they been down here?"

"Only a couple of weeks. They should be fine."

"Captain Shaid, your country is a signatory to the Third Geneva Convention and I demand they receive the rights guaranteed to prisoners of war," Vicky demanded.

Captain Shaid coughed and reminded her that technically they weren't entitled to those rights, but he would certainly move them to better quarters as long as we were present.

"I can trust you to prevent their escape I take it?" he asked.

"Captain, I'm not going to promise anything at this point, but I will try and restrain them from doing so."

"I'll take that as a yes," he said and spoke to the guard on duty at the door who saluted and unlocked it.

"Captain Shaid I must object to this. General Hussein ordered them held," Gabriel protested.

"And they will be. But not by you at this time," the Captain said shortly, swinging open the solid steel door.

"Go away, we're not receiving visitors today," a familiar voice called out.

"Too bad. I thought you'd like the chance to finish what you started with the ice pack," I said calmly.

"If that really is you Michael then I died last night and this is hell," Lydia said moving into the dim light that streamed in from the naked bulb in the corridor behind me.

"No, I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you," I sniped.

"Michael?" I heard my beloved Mistress ask weakly.

"None other."

Vicky said pushed me aside and stepped into the cell and knelt by the cot Mistress Minx was laying on and checked her quickly.

"This woman has a respiratory infection of some kind and needs attention. Michael, give me a hand," she ordered.

I picked my Mistress up, feeling her in my arms for the first time in months, the heat of her fever, and the paleness of her skin even in the dim light of the cell.

"Captain, please," I pleaded. "Help her."

"That's right Michael. Appeal to his humanity," Lydia sneered.

"Lydia shut the fuck up,' I snapped. "Captain, I'm taking my wife out of here now, and if you want to have the guard shoot me, go ahead."

He stood still for a moment and then moved aside so I could walk out of the cell with my precious cargo followed by Vicky helping Lydia.

"Follow me," he said and started back toward the direction we came from, the guard following behind us his gun at the ready.

It was only when we emerged into the full light of day that I realized how thin my Mistress had become. Her skin was sallow and her hair was brittle and dirty. I could see bruises on her legs and arms. I got a better look at Lydia and she too looked thin and weak.

Captain Shaid took us back to the quarters we had occupied on the first night and I laid the semiconscious Mistress Minx down on the couch while Vicky helped Lydia to the bedroom.

"Mr. Forbin, I was not aware of the condition of your wife and her friend," the Captain said with more than a slight tone of distress in his voice.

"Captain, I'm not concerned about that right now. She needs a doctor and medicine for her fever," I said.

"I'll send a doctor in right away as well as food for all of you," he said. "I am appalled at the treatment your wife has received and will inform the General in the strongest possible terms of Gabriel's mismanagement of the situation. Please excuse me now."

He walked out and locked the door behind him as Vicky came out of the bedroom.

"How is Lydia?" I asked.

"She'll be okay with some food and a long hot bath. She's still angry, but she's agreed to let me handle things for now. I haven't told her that Isis is in charge yet."

"Make sure I'm hull down over the horizon before you do," I said stepping close to her and hugging her to her surprise.

"Don't say anything," I muttered into her ear. "Do you think this is a little too much good cop/bad cop to be for real?"

"My thoughts exactly. There is no way in hell that Gabriel could lock them up like that without the Captain and the General knowing exactly what he was doing," Vicky agreed

"So we play dumb and dumber right?"

"Right. We close the deal and head for the border as soon as we can and hope we cross it," she agreed.

There was a knock on the door that startled us apart and then it opened to reveal a man in a white coat with a medical bag and two guards with a food cart.

The man in the white introduced himself with a Hindu accent as Dr. Singh and then turned his attentions to Mistress Minx. He took her pulse and temperature and then prepared an injection.

"What's that for?" I asked concerned.

"Antibiotics for the fever," he said showing me the medicine bottle. "Then I'd like to give her a vitamin injection to treat the malnutrition."

I grudgingly agreed and watched carefully as he gently rolled the Mistress over and gave her the injection and then prepared the second.

"How bad is she?" I asked.

"I think she'll be fine in a few days. The infection isn't really serious and the vitamins are just to help her along," he said.

He administered the second shot and then he and the guards left, locking the door carefully behind them.

I rolled the Mistress gently onto her back again, sat down on the floor beside her and just held her hand.

"Don't you think you should eat something?" Vicky asked.

"I'll just sit here thanks. Take care of Lydia."

She gave me a quick nod and took a tray of food into the other room and closed the door.

I sat holding the Mistress' hand, listening to her labored breathing and focused on the task ahead of getting us out of Iraq and home. If we were lucky nothing untoward would happen, but if not, I hoped RJ and the Prince were there. I sat there most of the day, ignoring Vicky and Lydia whenever they came into the room. Lydia kept a discreet distance from me as if she expected to be attacked, but I couldn't be bothered with her at all.

My Mistress was my world.

As the sunlight faded from outdoors I felt the Mistress start to pull her hand from mine and then heard her yawn.

"Mistress?" I said softly looking at her face.

She opened her eyes slowly as if the room light was painful to them and then wider.

"Michael?" she said softly." I thought I dreamed you were here."

"It's not a dream beloved. I've come to take you home," I said kissing her softly on the forehead.

"Home?" she said drowsily and then she seemed to become fully awake. "Michael, how did you get here?"

It's a long story Mistress. Do you know how long you've been here?" I asked.

"A long time, weeks or more," she said sitting up slowly.

"You've been missing for almost three months," I said sliding pillows in behind her to hold her up.

"Three months," she mused. "Do my parents know?"

"Yes, in fact without them I wouldn't be here, although your father thinks I'm a damned fool," I said. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Please."

For the first time in months I had the honor of feeding my beloved Mistress and wife fresh fruit a small piece at a time.

After a few minutes she closed her eyes and I could hear the steady breathing of her sleeping rhythm and dimmed the lights before getting a small plate of food for myself and relaxing for a few minutes.

I knew a storm was coming, but for now we were in the calm before it.

I woke up the next morning in a bed, not knowing exactly how I got there, but more comfortable that I had been in a few days. When I got up I found clean clothes and a note directing me to shave and shower before coming out.

Well someone wanted to pull the leash tight on me, and I was a little nervous that it was Lydia, but I didn't have a lot of choice, as I was outnumbered two to one.

I did as instructed and after drying and dressing, went out to face the day.

My Mistress was awake and sitting up chatting with Vicky as Lydia sat at the table eating breakfast.

"Good morning " I said kneeling beside my Mistress

"Good morning slave," she said." I see you haven't forgotten how to follow instructions in my absence."

"No Mistress. Mistress Miriam has been keeping me in practice."

Her eyebrows raised.

"Mistress Miriam is it? Well I can see that a few things did change while I was gone. I'm sure you've already written a fine account of it already."

"It's missing the last chapter. Which I hope we're going to write now," I said glancing at Vicky.

"I think so," Vicky said. "If General Hussein makes his appearance as I expect him to this morning, you should be able to finish the story. Hopefully with a happy ending."

"Well, sometimes you have to take a chance. Especially if one is all you have."

Lydia turned towards us.

"I'm so encouraged by you two. We might have lived a lot longer in that cell than with what you two are planning," she said sourly.

I looked back at Mistress Minx.

"What was harder Mistress? Dealing with the conditions of your captivity, or your cell mate being such a ray of sunshine?" I said annoyed.

"Slave, you will show her the respect a Mistress is due, despite your disagreements in the past," my Mistress ordered clearly and firmly.

"Yes Mistress," I replied bowing my head and then turning towards Lydia." My apologies for my rudeness Mistress."

She snorted and turned back to her meal and then looked up started as Vicky spoke.

"Lydia, I think you owe Michael an apology as well."

"Him? Why would I apologize to him?" she asked in genuine surprise.

Vicky actually walked over to where Lydia was sitting and stared at her.

"Because as much as you hate him, he actually gives a damn about you. He could have just ignored you being here and bargained for his Mistress' return. He turned to his enemies for help when his friends refused and is going to pay the price for it I'm sure."

"Slave, is that true?" Mistress Minx asked.

"Yes Mistress," I said looking her in the eye. "I had to fight to come here and with the provision that I'd be disavowed if anything went wrong."

"I know that I'm expendable if it comes down to it, as are you," she said coldly."I'd like to know exactly what Anna had to say about this."

"Mistress, with all due respect, you are not expendable," I said sidestepping the question about Anna, knowing that she was unaware of her death.

"That is your opinion slave," the Mistress rebuked."I would still like to know."

Vicky turned back to me grim faced.

"Tell her the truth Michael," she directed.

I hesitated and then accepted the inevitable.

"Mistress, Anna passed away shortly after the mission was completed by Mei Ling working with Vicky. Susan Bellamy was appointed to fill her place until a new Mother of Many can be elected."

The Mistress closed her eyes and tears leaked from her eyelids.

"She said she was proud of you Mistress just before she passed away," I comforted.

"For what? For failing?" she replied bitterly.

"For doing your duty Mistress. And she said she was proud of me for doing mine," I said remembering that night that seemed so long ago.

"Did she suffer?" Lydia asked softly to my surprise.

"No, she passed quietly," I said. "You know, she still cared about you."

Lydia turned away again.

"She was a deluded old woman," she said distractedly.

"Some delusions are functional. Only the delusions a mother has about her children allows them to grow up," I quoted.

"I don't think we need any of your fortune cookie quotes right now," Vicky suggested. "Why don't have something to eat and sit quietly."

"Excuse me," Mistress Minx said," but he is MY slave and I'll determine what he can say or do."

Vicky smiled.

"By your command," she said. "He's not following my orders very well anyway."

The Mistress started to laugh which turned into a series of coughs instead and then she gasped out "At least there is one constant in my life. Michael, eat your breakfast."

"Yes Mistress, I hear and obey."

"Only when it suits you," was the pointed and not totally accurate reply.

After breakfast, I assisted Mistress Minx to the bathroom where I washed her hair for her and sat waiting as she soaked in the tub.

She seemed somewhat withdrawn so I kept silent and my eyes closed as per her standing orders.

"Michael, " she said after a long time.

"Yes Mistress?"

"Thank you."

"For what Mistress?"

"For believing I was alive."

"You waited for me when I was in the jungle. You didn't give up on me. Why wouldn't I do the same for you?' I said quietly.

"I just wanted you to know, in case something happened."

"Mistress, there are people you don't know working on getting us home including an old friend of your mother's"

"My mother? What has she got to do with this?"

"Probably more than I know. I know you told me you didn't know if your mother was ever one of us, but I never did ask if she was a spy at some point in her life."

Mistress Minx emitted a choking sound and I opened my eyes.

"What ever gave you that idea?" she gasped. "My mother, a spy."

"Oh her relationship with a Saudi prince, her connections with the Foreign Office and the Ministry of Defense, and her contacts with a small cargo airline willing to fly me out of England without a passport. Now money and position can explain a lot of things, but being able to get the embargo lifted on a shipment of dual use technology, requires more than folding money."

"She did that?" Mistress Minx said in amazement.

"Aye, that she did," I said.

"What was the ransom they demanded for me, for us I mean."

"Stainless steel tubing. They could use it for a refinery or a gaseous diffusion plant. Confidentially, I don't want to be around when they try."

"Sabotaged?" she whispered.

I was about to answer when a thought occurred to me. Mistress Minx and Lydia had been in the custody of the Iraqis a long time. Perhaps long enough to have been turned as the spy types say. Stockholm syndrome I think they call it. Better to leave well enough alone. I hoped that Vicky had thought of it as well, but if not, it was too late now.

"Not that I know of. I just want to take you home," I deflected.

Before we could continue the discussion, there was a knock on the door and Vicky advised us the General had arrived.

"Curtain going up people. Minx, there should be something in my suitcase that will fit you. I'm sure Michael didn't think to pack clean clothing for you," Vicky said smugly.

"Michael," the Mistress said. "She's right isn't she?"

"Oops."

"And I take it when you found me, you were going to take me home naked."

"You're beautiful in anything," I said embarrassed.

"And even better in nothing, I know. Get me a towel and then get out of here," she ordered with the first smile she'd given me since our reunion.

The General greeted me politely when I entered the main room as Lydia sat and glared at him from the far side of the room.

"I hope your wife is feeling better Mr. Forbin," he said. "I was shocked to hear of the conditions she and her friend were kept in."

"Like Captain Renault in Casablanca about gambling taking place I'm sure," Lydia sniped to my surprise. Never thought she was that much of a film fan. Shows how much I know sometimes.

"I've never been to Casablanca," the General said slightly confused. "Who is Captain Renault?"

Now I knew who wasn't a film fan.

"Just an old friend," I said casually." My wife will join us momentarily I'm sure and then we can discuss this affair together."

"There really isn't any need for discussion. In light of the report from Captain Shaid and the treatment of your wife and her associate, I have convinced higher authority to accept the arrangement."

"So the deal stands. The equipment for the safe passage for all of us to leave your country," Vicky clarified.

"As soon as we receive the shipment, you're free to leave. In fact, I've even had your Land Rover brought here and made ready for your departure," he said warmly.

"That's very civil of you General, but my mother didn't raise any idiot children," Vicky said. "Half now and half when we cross the Kuwaiti border."

He raised his eyebrows at that and then grudgingly agreed.

"Half now and half at the border. I admire your caution."

"Let's get this thing on the hump," I said.

"Very well," he said picking up the telephone that sat in one corner of the room and after speaking into it in Arabic, turned to Vicky. "If you would please tell your people to release the shipment to my people."

She picked up the phone and also spoke in Arabic and then after a minute of waiting, switched to Yiddish.

"Zefrin helft fun der gerer izt," she said. "Derzelin muter mir aux kumendik heim izt. Shalom."

The General looked annoyed about her using Yiddish as she hung up the phone, but decided not to say anything.

"You will of course remain here as our guests until the shipment arrives and is inspected," he said.

"I didn't expect anything else actually. Besides it will give Minkin a chance to recover from her ordeal," Vicky acknowledged.

"Then it's settled. It shouldn't take more than a day or two and then you can be on your way with the thanks of my government."

"I'll settle for being on my way period," I said. "If the circumstances were different, I might like to hang around, but..."

The General smiled.

"Of course Mr. Forbin. Perhaps in the future we can do a little more business."

"Buy a murderer get lifetime service," I muttered.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I was just wishing you the best General."

The gilded cage of the Palace seemed a little less confining with Mistress Minx with me and I spent a lot of time briefing her on what had been going on since her abduction.

"So you've been very busy in my absence," she summarized as we sat in the garden at lunch, the guards standing at a discreet distance to permit us to talk openly.

"I couldn't just sit and let them write you off as dead without proof. So I got the proof with the assistance of Dr. Ruth and one of her students, Saphra."

"She sounds like a very intelligent young lady," the Mistress remarked as she finished her juice.

"She is. She's not quite used to how I live my life, but she deals with it pretty well. She thinks that Mistress Miriam is a little too tough on me at times, but she doesn't know me well enough to know I need that at times. Miriam thinks she might fit well into Ayesha."

"Mistress Miriam, if you please Michael. She's earned her place and the title."

"Yes Mistress, I think she did too."

"You've got me curious though. Why did you take a chance on contacting Kali to try and rescue me?"

I shook my head.

"I didn't contact Kali, I contacted Vicky. And there is a difference between the two. Vicky has her issues with Isis and how she's running Kali. I appealed to her self-interest. And Vicky isn't all she seems to be either. I'll just leave it at that until we get out of here."

"How is Susan dealing with being the Mother of Many?" the Mistress asked.

"She's doing the job well, but I suspect that she'll be relieved when you get back and take over from her."

The Mistress looked at me funny at that statement.

"Michael, if you're under the impression that I'm the next Mother of Many, you're very wrong. Remember the inquisition you went through when you returned from Erehwon? The same thing will happen to me. I'm surprised that you got any cooperation from Susan at all considering that you are supposed to be grounded."

"Anna said the job was yours when you got back," I said thinking of her instructions.

"Susan may feel differently and she still can't just give me the job since she was never elected Mother of Many. There are people who are better qualified."

"We'll worry about it when we get home," I comforted.

"If we get home Michael. I'm still not sure it's going to happen," she fretted.

"Oh, we'll get home. And when we do, we get to deal with more mundane issues like the INS, my leave of absence, and a rather large stack of newspapers on the front porch."

"Newspapers?"

"I forgot to have the delivery canceled."

"Oh Michael," she sighed.

Lydia and Vicky chose that moment to join us and it was apparent from Lydia's body language she was in a snit again.

"Problem?" I asked knowing the answer in advance.

"When are they going to let us out of here," Lydia snarled. "It's been two days."

"Better out here than in the cell," Mistress Minx reminded her.

"It's just a bigger cage is all," was the retort.

"Since the stuff had to be smuggled into the country, it takes awhile," Vicky reminded.

Lydia snorted and then reached for the coffeepot in the middle of the table and poured a cup for herself.

"They're not going to let us go, no matter what kind of deal you made. We know too much," Lydia continued.

"It's in the General's best interest to let us go. That way he thinks he can blackmail us for more later by threatening to tell the authorities we helped him the first time," I observed.

"It may be in the General's best interest, but Gabriel and the Christians in Action may have another viewpoint," the Mistress countered.

"If you had seen how fast Gabriel changed the subject when I brought up the point of how badly the bomb was built, you wouldn't say that. I think all he wants right now is to see us gone."

"It was that bad?" Lydia asked Vicky.

"A gun type bomb using plutonium. You were already gone when they messed up the first assembly. The gamma burst showed from orbit and the finished weapon wasn't even a fizzle yield. It was a flat out dud. Thank the Goddess because I was only a few yards from Ground Zero," Vicky explained.

Mistress Minx turned to me.

"It was that close?"

"Oh yeah. Mind you I was at the Rancho. Mei Ling was right next to the bomb disposal guy when it went off."

The Mistress shuddered.

"Too close."

"And they're going to have another chance at it because you were dumb enough to make a deal to get us out of here," Lydia accused.

I looked at Vicky and held my tongue. I knew that Vicky had arranged for some kind of hidden defect in the shipment, I just didn't know what. And Lydia was just as likely to suffer Stockholm syndrome as the Mistress. Better to remain silent.

"It's a risk, but the Mistress is worth it."

The rest of the day passed slowly with nothing really to do. Mistress Minx slept a lot and Lydia and Vicky spent a lot of time alone together leaving me to sit and think. I spent some of the time roughing out the notes for the Diary entry and the rest of it pacing the grounds, a guard dogging all of my steps.

During some of the walks I saw more of the Christians in Action people, all dressed much as Gabriel was at the meeting and all of them with a cheerful attitude that drove me nuts.

Except of course for Gabriel who glared at me every time we crossed paths, even to the point of walking out of the bathroom without washing his hands one time when I entered it.

I finally called him on his attitude late one afternoon when I was getting some coffee from the kitchen.

"Hey Gabe, you got a minute?" I asked as he walked in.

"My name is Gabriel, thank you very much," he said coldly. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk and see if we can't come to some kind of understanding. Look, stopping your bomb plot is just one of those things that we do."

"Meddling in the affairs of others, interfering with God's will. You do it well," he huffed.

"Thank you, we do our best," I said ignoring the sarcasm. "I have a higher power of my own that I am responsible to that compels me to keep people from doing stupid things. Like mass murder on a global scale."

"Well you needn't worry about that. I'm sure that President Hussein understands the ramifications of a nuclear weapon."

"Oh, I'm not going to stop you from working on it, far from it. We gave our word not to interfere and we'll keep it."

That seemed to honestly surprise him.

"You really meant it?"

"Gabriel, I do have a code of ethics I live by. I don't make a habit of lying about things. "

I just withhold the qualifiers, I thought.

"Mr. Forbin, I don't know if you're just a very talented liar or not, but I am surprised."

"Don't be. If you screw up and kill yourself, that's your problem. If you take the General or someone with you, that's good too. But my wife and I won't be here for it, and that's all that counts to me."

"How do you know we'll let you leave?" he queried.

"Oh I know we'll get out of here. I don't know that we'll get out of the country, but I will tell you that we won't go gentle into that good night if anybody tries to stop us. And I'll keep my word about that too," I warned.

"I believe you will," he said holding out a hand. "Truce Mr. Forbin. The world isn't all that big a place and I'm sure that we'll run across each other again."

I shook it firmly and he grinned.

"I'd better get back to the lab and finish my work. Much to do and too little time," he said and walked away whistling Ode to Joy.

"You are free to leave Iraq. I will provide an escort to the border for you again. It has been a pleasure doing business with you," The General said a day later holding out his hand to Vicky who shook it carefully and then her turned to me and offered a hand. "Mr. Forbin, I hope that you will someday forgive the treatment your wife and her associate suffered while here."

"He's probably stupid enough to, but I'm not. General, if I ever get you on my turf, you're a dead man or worse," Lydia said bluntly and stalked out of the room one of the guards trailing her.

"I'd listen to her if I were you General. She's been toying with me for years, and it hasn't be fun," I said to him.

"I am not afraid of any woman," he snorted.

Mistress Minx looked at him and smiled sweetly.

"You should be General. I probably won't forgive you either, but at least I have a forgiving side to me. She hasn't. Good bye General and thank you for all of your hospitality, and please give my regards to your other associates. Especially Gabriel. Tell him that he's closer to seeing God than he knows," she warned and coughed heavily.

I helped her towards the door and Vicky followed.

Vicky's confidence in the deal wasn't perfect. Before starting the Land Rover she checked the engine for a bomb to the amusement of the General and the Captain.

"You don't seem to trust us very much," the Captain called as they stood on the steps watching.

"I have my reasons," she called starting the engine as we all got in.

As we passed through the gate we were joined by a jeep of armed men ahead of us and one behind us keeping a tight formation.

"You think they'll really let us cross the border?" I called to Vicky over the noise of the wind.

"Damned if I know," she called back. "I'm hoping that greed will tip the balance in our favor."

"Never appeal to a man's better instinct: Appeal to his self-interest," I quoted.

"Then what was that bit back at the cell with the Captain the other day?"

"Acting."

"Bullshit," was Vicky's only response.

We swung off the main highway a few minutes later onto a feeder road and the trailing jeep pulled up alongside and made motions for us to stop that Vicky ignored.

The man pointed ahead and again signaled we should stop.

Before I could say anything a gust of wind blew sand in my face and I looked up to see what looked like a solid wall ahead of us.

"Oh shit! Dust storm!" I yelled and regretted doing it, because I caught a mouth full of it.

"Put your heads down back there and cover up," Vicky called back slowing down and grabbing a pair of goggles from under her seat for herself and one for me.

Two minutes later we were enveloped in the storm, the sand and dust stinging my exposed flesh as Vicky struggled to maintain control of the Rover as well as keeping the speed up.

"Are you crazy?" I choked out.

"Like a fox. Think of it as a natural smoke screen and take advantage of it. By the time it dies down we'll be miles away," she replied coughing.

We passed the lead jeep that had skidded off the road and kept going.

There isn't really any way to describe a dust storm like the one we were in. Fine dust, almost baby power fine, filling the air making it hard to breathe. The sunlight filtered though the storm was blood red and I thought to myself that this must be what Mars is like on a good day.

Vicky kept driving though, more by Braille than anything else from the shuddering of the Rover as it swayed from shoulder to shoulder of the road and then we were off the road and into the desert beyond.

"We've got to stop," I coughed.

She slowed to a halt and I looked in the back where I saw Lydia was covering Mistress Minx with her body and shielding her own face with a rag.

"Do you two have any idea what you're doing," she rasped.

"Hey, she's the brains sweetheart," I countered.

"Sweetheart?" Vicky and Lydia both chorused.

"Sorry, bad line. I'm just along for the ride."

"It can't last too much longer," Vicky said." When it dies down, we can figure out where we are."

"And you were planning on doing that how?" I asked.

"The map under the seat and the GPS," was the smug reply.

"It better die down soon. Minx is having a hard time breathing with all this dust," Lydia warned as my Mistress coughed and gasped.

It became obvious that the Goddess wasn't listening to Lydia as the storm actually seemed to increase in fury for an unknown time and then without warning the wind died out and the dust slowly settled allowing us to see where we were for the first time in hours.

And it was pretty close to nowhere. In the far distance I could see a tower of some kind, but otherwise nothing but sand and gravel as far as the eye could see.

Vicky pulled the map out and started checking our position, then groaned.

"We're about eighty miles from the border. We're going to have to go overland to keep from running into a police or Army patrol," she said.

"Oh fun."

"We'd better get started, it's almost sundown."

"Mistress are you going to be all right?" I asked as Minx sat up and coughed, then drank some water from a bottle I passed back to her.

"No choice Michael. I have to be," she said sitting up and wiping her face.

Vicky started the Rover and we headed off into the desert kicking up a cloud of sand and dust marking our path.

She drove over the dunes for an hour or so until she reached a dry lakebed and stopped suddenly as we saw a road and a set of buildings in the dimming light of the sun.

"Damn. We'll have to go around them," she said.

It was then I saw the convoy of military trucks heading up the road in our general direction.

"I think we've got problems," I said pointing as the lead truck slowed to a halt on the side of the road as the others pulled past and stopped at intervals further along.

"Could just be routine patrol," Vicky said.

"You want to bet on it?"

Her response was to put the Rover in gear and slowly back away from our vantagepoint and then drive towards the dry riverbed that led into the lake.

"We'll have to get far enough in to hide and then wait them out," she said as we bumped along.

"We're probably in the no fly zone so that should keep any kind of aerial recon out of the picture," I mused.

"Starting to get too dark for that anyway," she replied and then stepped on the brakes suddenly. I saw a campfire with a group of tents clustered near a group of stunted trees and then heard dogs barking and sheep baaing.

"Bedouin camp," Vicky said turning off the engine.

"Is that a problem?" Lydia asked from the back seat.

"Shouldn't be if everybody minds their manners," Vicky warned. "I'd suggest you let me do the talking"

She got out of the Rover and started walking towards the camp where a man met her with a rifle over his shoulder that gestured at the Rover.

After a few moments of conversation she walked back and told us we were invited by the Bedouin chief to stay the night and share their meal.

"That's generous of them," I said.

"I think it's stupid to stop here for the night. We're not that far from the border," Lydia objected.

"We'll be better off hiding with these people than trying to drive across the border in the middle of the night. There are minefields out there you know as well as bandits," Vicky reminded her.

That put a stop to her grumbling but she straggled behind the rest of us as we walked towards the camp.

The people were friendly enough even though the only one who spoke the language was Vicky and the food was good, lamb kabobs with peppers. I let Vicky have the peppers actually, as my stomach isn't up to that sort of thing any more.

Mistress Minx lay back on a pile of rugs and I fed her myself to the amusement of the group that only died down when Vicky made it clear that the Mistress was ill.

We were just starting to settle in for the night when there was the sound of an engine in the distance and the Chief barked out orders to the rest of the men. One of the women motioned for us to follow her into a tent while some of the men rushed towards the Rover and started erecting a tent over it.

As we watched hidden under a pile of rugs through a slit in the tent wall two jeeps drove up and unloaded a half a dozen armed men that started to fan out through the camp as the Chief faced off with one of the soldiers and argued with him in rapid Arabic.

The searchers started overturning baskets and looking in tents as the women protested loudly and the children cried. The noise started the sheep bleating and soon the noise was deafening.

"Do we stay put, or scarper out the back," I asked Vicky as the search got closer to the tent we were in.

"We can't fight them off without getting some of the others hurt or killed and if we sneak out of the back it means abandoning the Rover and our best shot of getting out of here," she said softly as the tent flap opened and one of the soldiers poked in with his rifle at the ready as the woman who had hidden us squawked at him and threatened him with a broom.

He pushed her aside roughly and started to look in things and under things, slowly working his way towards our hiding place.

He had just started to pull the top rug off our hiding place when there was of all things a bugle call from outside followed by a series of howls and yells. He dropped the rug and ran outside.

Looking through the slit I saw men mounted on horseback galloping through the camp at full speed swinging long poles and knocking soldiers to the ground and riding away then turning back to strike again as the men got up.

Following the horsemen I could see other men carrying rifles and dressed in black camouflage trotting along in formation.

"I know you're in there somewhere damn it, come on out!" I heard a familiar voice call out.

"I think our ride is here," I said helping Mistress Minx to her feet as she crawled from under the rugs.

"Taxi!" I called coming out of the tent with the Mistress in tow.

"Took you long enough to get here," RJ complained. "We've been waiting for hours."

"Who are you?" Mistress Minx asked confused.

"Minkin Dawes-Forbin, let me present RJ Preston United States Air Force, Special Operations," I said.

"Ma'am" he said reaching for her hand and then kissing it softly. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Hey RJ, lets get out of here before they start wondering what happened," Moriarty urged hurrying up to join RJ.

"Always with the negative waves," Vicky said joining us, at about the same time as one of the riders came up and stopped.

"Nice to see you again Michael," the Prince said looking down from his horse at the Mistress and I. "And this is Wendolyn's daughter I take it."

"Yes your Highness. Interesting attack by the way," I said looking at the pole and realizing that it was in fact a polo mallet.

"Polo with people is somewhat more challenging than that with a ball, but rewarding never the less," he grinned.

"If we don't move soon, we'll be hanging by ours, so lets move out," RJ said. "Prince can you have your people over the border before sunrise?"

"Not a problem for us at all old boy. When you get back, give me a call and we'll have a drink. Orange juice of course," he offered.

"Come over to my place and I'll stand you to a real live no alcohol beer," RJ countered.

"Will you two just get on with it?" Moriarty complained. "There might be a follow up patrol any time now."

The Bedouin chief joined us and spoke to the Prince and Vicky who then turned and assured RJ that there wouldn't be any more trouble from that quarter for awhile.

"The Chief says that the next patrol won't be here for days because they'll be afraid to come. He's going to tie the soldiers up and then the camp will move on and leave them here," she explained. "They won't die of thirst, but they might from exposure."

"If we don't move, we're not going to die of old age," Moriarty persisted. "Come on."

We started to follow them into the darkness and then Vicky stopped and hurried back to the tent covering the Rover then drove out and joined us.

"I'm not leaving my baby behind," she said. "Lydia and I will drive out with the Prince's group."

"Prince?" RJ asked.

"Why not? If anybody asks where you came from, we'll lie. Follow us ladies," he said and rode away.

"Michael, it's been interesting if not exactly fun. Take care of your Mistress," Vicky said and then kissed me quickly to the annoyance of Lydia.

"Michael, I'm only going to say this once. Thank you," Lydia said and then knocked me on my ass. "We'll meet again soon enough."

She jumped in the Rover and the two Kali agents drove into the darkness.

"You do have a way with women," RJ said helping me up.

"Not with that one," I said rubbing my face. "Incidentally, how did you know where to find us?"

RJ grinned.

"After my last encounter with Vicky, I put a bug in her car and tied it into her radio system. We just homed in on it. Come on, the plane's waiting," he said.

"Plane?"

"We didn't walk all the way you know. We're the Air Force. We fly places, although this time we had to charter a plane."

We walked the dying light of a waning moon throwing a faint glow over the desert for what seemed like miles until I saw the glint of metal at the bottom of a hill just as the faint glow of sunrise made itself known.

A few minutes later we were standing in front of an old DC-3 with a picture of the Statue of Liberty holding a pie on it. Buddy-Holly Airways.

"I don't believe it," I said staring at the plane.

"All aboard for points west of Baghdad," drawled Hollis Wood jumping down from the hatch as the engines started up.

"How did you guys get here?" I asked as I helped Mistress Minx into the plane.

"You call we haul. It's not the first time we've done this sort of thing, but I didn't expect to see you."

"Small world as they say," I said climbing up and belting myself in next to the Mistress as Hollis pulled the hatch shut and joined Buddy in the cockpit.

"You know these guys?" RJ asked from the seat ahead of us.

"Friends of my mother in law," I replied as the plane shuddered and climbed slowly into the air and headed due west the rising sun casting the shadow of the plane on the ground below us.

"You've got one hell of an interesting family," RJ said.

I looked at the Mistress and smiled.

"I've got a hell of a wife too," I added.

Mistress Minx just snuggled into me and sighed.

"Take me home Michael."

"By your command Mistress. By your command."

Afterword

Some weeks later I learned that Vicky had kept her part of the bargain and shipped the other half of the tubing as promised and a few weeks after that I saw a news report of an accident involving broken stainless steel piping in a chemical factory in Iraq.

It seems the piping split exactly in half after pressure built up in the lines, so I guess you could say Vicky really meant half the piping now and the other half later as a literal.

Lydia seized control of Kali back from Isis and then disappeared again. Mistress Jazmyne called Lydia's sister and was told that Lydia had only stayed in her Chicago location for a few days and then moved to parts unknown.

As to the Mistress and I: We've settled down in our little house again to never more go a-roaming.

At least until the next time the world is in terrible peril and only Mistress Minx and Michael can save the day.

Until then gentle reader, we're going to deal with more mundane issues like the INS, my leave of absence, and a rather large stack of newspapers on the front porch.

Together.

Chapter 29 Sections 1 to 10

Prologue to Eve of Destruction
Everybody Wants To Rule The World
The Bomb Run
We'll Meet Again
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life
It's Slinky
There's got to be a morning after
Burning Bridges
American Pie