Fairy: The Second Book, Part 2 free porn video

Calling in a favor The car pulled up to the estate gate, and the security guard stood. The woman behind the wheel was a stone fox, but preoccupied. He walked out, hulking over the door. "May I help you?" He asked. "Call in and see if Franco is here." "Who?" His orders were specific. No one was home unless he had been informed that they expected guests. "Tell them Monica Braziani would like to talk with him." "Ma'am-" "Just pick up the phone and tell them." Her voice was flat and cold with an I-Will-Be-Obeyed tone in it. He walked over to the kiosk, and picked up the intercom. After a moment, the gate swung open. Monica drove through. This house reminded her too much of the one her grandfather had owned before his death. A nice place turned into a fortress. She knew without even checking a schematic that Franco had installed pressure sensors, motion sensors, had dogs that ran the grounds by day, and armed men that were licensed to carry weapons at night. Any attempt to breach the security would be met with lethal force. She pictured her grandfather's estate. He'd had everything but the motion sensors. The Faerie had taken it down. Not without casualties however. Two men that looked like twins if you just considered just their size waited at the entry door. Both looked like football linemen. One was coal black, the other Aryan white. They were dressed in nice suits which didn't quite cover the bulge of weapons and flak jackets. The black one walked over, waiting patiently for her to get out. Without blocking his partner's sight line, he ran a metal detector over her and her clothes. When it bleeped he asked in a soft voice what it was. She had her pen, keys, and phone taken. She would get them back when she left. "I need to take the disc in," she held up a CD in a plastic sleeve. The white man came over, and ran another wand over her, chatting about nothing as he watched the dial on the probe. It would detect any kind of electronic eavesdropping except for a big ears microphone, and all of the window of the house were equipped with screen to deaden vibration to block not only them but laser microphones as well. "Clean," he said. "Miss Braziani, Mister Fanducci is on the patio." She nodded, walking into the house. Another man, this one smaller and much older met and escorted her. Franco Fanducci nodded when she stepped from the house, walking over to greet her. He was technically her 'uncle'. He had been an underling with her Grandfather's businesses, and had taken over when he died. "Monica, Francesca has missed your company." She smiled. Little Frankie as she had been called since she was born was fun to be around. It had been her Grandfather who had driven the wedge. Frankie wasn't going to marry Monica eventually, and little Frankie was a hellion. "Tell her to come by. Since Grandfather's death, I had been hoping she would try to contact me." "She did not on my instruction," Franco told her. "You were adamant that you didn't want to be part of the Family any more before Guido's death. We honored that request. Now, sit. To what do I owe the pleasure?" A maid came out with a tray of cheese wine and lemonade. She took a glass of the red, and a small plate. "Some friend of mine are having a problem. Government problems." "Ah." His eyes were wide and innocent, but she didn't believe that for a moment. "That is a pity. Is it business?" "Yes and no. Not business as the family would decide it. We are helping people that are in hiding." "Government people?" "Uncle Franco, as far as I know none of the people we are helping are federal witnesses. I doubt they would be even if they had seen anything. They merely need help getting used to society." He nodded. "What can I do?" "The government has gotten involved as I said. We don't know who, but one of our members was attacked in Las Vegas, and seven of our friends were taken." "Attacked how?" "They tried to kill our man. They only left him alive because the casino guards were there too soon. The ones they took were five women and two babies. Innocents." "Shocking." He looked away. Her grandfather had always respected this man's mind. "These people. Are they from... overseas?" "Uncle Franco, they are as much Americans as you and I." "Good. We had already decided not to do business with those animals overseas. Killing and destroying for their faith. Calling themselves freedom fighter and martyrs!" "Yes it is so sad, Uncle Franco." She danced around the subject as she had been taught. Thanks to electronic eavesdropping and phone taps, the mobs had gone through a Darwinian winnowing process. They had become smarter and more capable in defense. "I was asked to help them, and you were the first man I thought of." "How so, Monica?" "What we need right now is a way to talk without the Feds knowing we are. I can't go out and buy a new phone, because they might have people watching me. We can't use e-mails because they will go through the wires. I must be able to speak to people in the Angeles National forest New York, Texas and in Las Vegas quickly." "Why did you think of me first?" "Uncle Franco, you have connections, clean connections, in All the places I need help. Even Brownsville. People who can buy the phones and deliver them. All I need is to have the number of the three phone I would ask you to buy here in them when they are delivered." "Why should I do this little thing for you?" "First, Frankie is still a problem isn't she? Getting into trouble, making a name for herself." She referred obliquely to the time Frankie had either gotten into the local news, or been arrested for drunken driving. "She is. Nothing I say will change her ways." "If you would like, I can try to get her a job with me on the campus. It might be more of the same; after all there are several thousand young college boys there. But I think I can get her interest focused on something less...carnal." "That is first?" She took the CD out of her pocket. "I downloaded everything from Grandfather's special stash. Names, dates, places, everything." Franco looked at her calmly. The 'special stash' was what Guido had called his list of bought politicians and cops. It itemized how much, how often, where they were working when he first contacted them, and where they were this last winter when it was last updated. "It is too much, Monica. I will not use this." Franco took the disc, and snapped it in half. "Besides I probably have the last file." Yeah. But thanks to Paddy we've slid the names of anyone who wasn't already under investigation over to Organized Crime. I didn't expect it to be good for very long. "As you will. Grandfather always told me that if you must come begging, come with all you can give without hurting." "A good man of business," Franco said piously. "Tell me where these phones must be delivered." ***** "Henri." The Fairy whispered plaintively. Henry was at his computer, furiously coding. He had always been a whiz with them, and if he hadn't been a very serious young man, he might have been a premier hacker. One thing he loved were algorithms, and creating a code that could not be broken was his dream. He knew it wasn't possible. Anything he could imagine could be broken by the right person or program. But he wanted this one for his friends. "Henri, how much longer must I wait?" Bromeliad stood on his shoulder, fingers running around his ears. "Bromeliad, I'm almost done?" "In truth?" "Maybe an hour." She hissed, biting his earlobe. He flinched. "What was that for?" "One bite will take an hour to work. If you are not done, tomorrow we can finish." She flew up, pecking him on his cheek. "If you do not give me a child this evening I will be very upset with you!" "That means what, you'll move out?" She laughed. When he'd met the Professor yesterday, he had not expected to meet a Fairy. He had not expected her to move into his room either. Henry could see that he had started shrinking. Frantically he grabbed the palm pilot he had, and crawled under the desk. "Thinking to hide from me, Mon beau?" she called gaily. She settled down, biting him on one of the veins on the back of his hand. "No. I have to get this hooked up before I get too small." He plugged the unit into the USB port, then into it's docking station. He shucked everything but his underwear, holding them up. Bromeliad giggled, biting him again and again. The process was speeding up, and he had to use his hands to get him high enough to climb back into his chair as if he were climbing an eight foot wall. He also had to use the chair to stand on to finish what he was doing. Then he began transferring data from the main computer to the smaller unit. When he shrank too far, he climbed onto the desk, still tapping keys. He grabbed a pencil that was almost his height, and kept tapping as he still shrank. Finally he stopped. The pencil was now taller than he was. A bundle of female pulchritude hit him from behind, giggling. He could tell immediately that he was not the only one that had been discarding clothes. "Surrender, you are mine!" she whispered in his ear. He felt something moving other than her on his back. A full set of wings had ripped out and he had been so busy he hadn't even noticed! She was a bit shorter than him now, like comparing 5'6 six to 5'11. But it was a tightly muscled athletic person holding him. She kissed him from behind, then tripped him to fall on his face. He was flipped over, and she looked down on him. He had been right. The look was no less predatory. "I knew you would grow into un grand homme. One worthy of such as I." "What do you mean? Why am I still taller than you?" "Ah." She became serious. "We are fixed at an age, ma Chou. I look as I would if I were thirty of your years old. At the moment, so do you." "Wait, I look like I'm 30?" "Oui." She took her hands from his shoulders, sliding her nude form down his stomach to kneel across his knees. That was interesting for an 18 year old virgin! She raised her hand. "We have told you what occurs when Faerie mate. One thing we know happens but do not consider important is that we affect your ages as well. An old man, Un Grand Pat became as if he were in this thirties. But we do the same for the young. If you had been a child, it would do the same." She moved her hand in a circle, a glowing disc appearing. She held it and Henry looked at the face in it. He looked, different. That weak chin of his had firmed up, the hair had receded a little. He looked like his father with his mother's hair and eyes. She waved the mirror away. "Now, let us worry instead about what is important." He didn't have time to complain as she shoved him back down. The silence broken Rob looked at the Treo as it buzzed. He almost threw the damn thing against the wall instead of answering. Great idea, instant communications. He had been able to figure out the last message from Dandelion, but there had been others, messages that were an obvious ploy to contact him or one of the principles. There had been one that was supposed to be from him. Another supposedly from Dandelion, another from Monica to Pat. There had even been three from different bands he had contacted, The Central Park Group, the Palo Alto Park Group, and the Taos group. All had been of the same vein. Where are you? What's happening? He sighed, picking it up. It was already dark again. He looked at the other bed. But Dawn was already up. Her friend, a cross-dresser in one of the Strip shows had put them in her (his?) spare bedroom. They couldn't stay for long. As it was they only had a car because the same friend had taken the wad of cash that Rob had gotten from the dead man and rented it. He looked at his watch. 10PM. He flipped up the screen, downloaded the e-mail, and immediately went offline again. There were a lot of signals in some kind of code. Maddie to Pat, Pat to Maddie, Monica to Rhona. All of them east of him. He scrolled down. TO R FROM CHI. DO NOT REPLY. USING LA FAERIE QUEEN NAME, ORIGINAL FIRST NAME OF TAOS CONVERT, FRIENDS ON THE RAILS IN ORDER OF AGE, SIMPLE SUBSTITUTION CODE ONCE OFF. DO NOT DELETE DUPS: TIME SENSITIVE!!!!! He grabbed a sheet of paper; P E R I W I N K L E D A V I D S A M T 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 O N Y 20 21 22 032011 181221 050609 090102 121901 131616 191719 942907 180412 210618 021920 201317 031902 031713 191003 050609 090812 131008 091012 210104 202102 182207 182021 041905 060909 052003 080209 200708 102120 130219 211602 191301 071005 082018 182001 032019 That translated to; ROB MAN VILL PE AT BVS STATION AT MIDNITE TO OVARTER AETER WILL HAVE KLEAN PONE MY NUM ON IT WILL WORK E LONK ENOUE TO SET UP NEW KOMMO PROTOCOL Since there was no B F G H Q or W, he translated this as; Rob, man will be at bus station from midnight to quarter after. Will have clean phone my number on it. will work for long enough to set up new commo protocol. He stood, walking into the hall. Dawn was at the stove, cooking. "Breakfast in a few minutes," she told him. He showed her the message. "It will take us 20 minutes to get there, so you have time to eat." "I'd better-" She put her hand on his shoulder, pointing with the spoon. "Sit, eat, now!" "Yes, ma'am." He meekly sat and accepted the plate. It had bacon, ham sausage, pancakes and four eggs. "What do you think I am?" "From what I saw." She said pouring grapefruit juice. "You are a man that will run yourself into the ground without a keeper." She fixed her own plate, a wedge of grapefruit cottage cheese and some carrot sticks. "Let me guess, during your trip you have eaten whatever was available, drank heavily, usually kept pushing unless the ones with you were tired." "And where you hiding while I was on the road?" "I know men, dear." She sipped her English breakfast tea. "You remind me of my uncle." "What was he?" "A sergeant major in the SAS until his parachute failed to open." She dipped a carrot stick into a small bowl of Ranch dressing. "You probably remember the old saw about parachutes? You get a refund for a parachute that doesn't open if you bring it back? I expect if his legs hadn't been broken, he might have. Of course broken arms pelvis and spine don't help. He lived about seven minutes after he hit the ground." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. He would have wanted to die in battle, but dying that way might have been a decent second best." They ate silently. She was done before him, rinsing the plate and putting it in the washer. Then she went into the room they were sharing. Rob finished, rinsed his dish, and put it in the washer too. Dawn came out, dressed in a black skintight jumpsuit. He wanted to tell her to stay, but the look in her eyes told him not to bother. The friend had gotten a car all right. A fire engine red Jaguar XKE. "What, they didn't have an Austin Powers look alike?" He snarled. "It was out. So was the Penelope Shagwell Corvette." She got behind the right side drive wheel. He sighed, sitting down and strapping in. She drove like he expected she danced. Exuberant and expert. The trip he had figured would take thirty five minutes did only take 20. It was about ten before midnight when they pulled up across the street. "Glasses in the glove box." She told him. There were a small pair of binoculars there. He lifted them. A bus came in, and a small mousy man got off it, checking his watch. He was still checking his watch four minutes later. "I don't think that is him," Rob commented. One minute before midnight, a stretch limo pulled up, and a man in a flashy suit climbed out. He looked around, seeing the mousy man and started toward him. He flipped up the lapels of his jacket, head down, hands in his pockets. The mousy man saw him, and backed away, moving to avoid his approach. Rob unbuckled. "If I am blown, drive like hell, dump the car, and get to the Faerie." She leaned over kissing him on the cheek. "Come back, Rob." "Hey, I'm spoken for." "I know that, you twit." The man in the suit saw Rob approaching, and held his hands out to his side. Whoever had sent him had informed the man that Rob might be a little jumpy. "You Rob?" He asked. Rob nodded. The man slowly moved his right hand to the jacket, sliding it into the interior pocket. He came out with a Razr cell phone. "You're friend's numbers are on it." Rob took the phone. "Thanks." "Any friend of Mr. Fanducci is a friend of ours." "Is there a number I can contact Mr. Fanducci's friends on this?" "What did you need?" "Some firepower. I may need it." The man considered. "I am just the messenger boy, but I can pass that message on. What did you want?" Rob told him. "I have that number, and will call you tomorrow morning at the latest. Even if the answer is no." "Good enough." They both left. Ten minutes later, a car passed by. Two of Runningfox's men looked around frantically, but the target was not in sight. ***** Rob turned on the phone, checking the address book. There were numbers for MO (Monica) MA (Maddie) Frank, Pat and the Texans Rhona and Derrick Cunningham, Charles and Morgan Xavier. He punched the button for Pat in Chicago. It didn't even finish it's first ring. "Rob?" "Hey, Pat." "What's the situation?" "Almost totally fucked." He ran it down. "All right, here's the drill. Monica has a new assistant who's a computer whiz. He's going to come up with a program we can use to encrypt our communications from now on. Until he does, he's come up with an idea. Ever hear of a book code?" "No." "Ever seen Manhunter, or Read Red Dragon by Harris?" "Yeah." "The scene where Lector contacts a wacko supposedly using bible verses. They find out it's one of his books he's using. You put down two numbers. That tells you what page and line to look at. If necessary you put down three numbers if the word you want is not the first but is in that line. You do that for every word. It slow and cumbersome, but Henry expects we won't need to use it for long." "We're lucky in one way, Pat. This isn't us versus the entire US government like we thought. The prime mover is one old fart and the men he hired. If we take care of them, we're clear." There was silence. "You mean kill them." "Pat, according to the German Fairy that used to be the scientist Murdock caught, no one has ever really considered this that important. Murdock hid all of the research. Edelweiss told me she didn't think he was much of a scientist. He was still doing the equivalent of rats in a maze using torture. "I keep picturing Trillium, the others, being tormented by a sick old maniac. I won't leave them in his hands. If that means I have to level that lab and kill everyone in it, sobeit." Rob sighed. "Pat, I never told any one of you what I did before I became a hobo. I was a Special Forces operative. I was trained for this kind of situation. That is my analysis. What do want me to do? Let the girls die?" There was a longer silence. "You'll need help." "Who? You can't do it. Monica, Maddie, who do I call in?" Rob looked out the side window as the car drove on. "I'm going to die doing this, Pat. There's no way around that. There are a bunch of them and I'm alone. I can't guarantee saving the Faerie, or destroying the project. But if I can at least kill Murdock, the other Faerie will be safe." "I'll fill Monica in." Pat sighed. "Live you bastard." He told him what books to get. Just in case the enemy discovered what they were using, they already had a second book selected, and the first message of the next series with that book would give them a third. "Right. Bye, Pat." Dawn's confession Dawn had been silent during the drive and the call. Now she spoke. "Rob. You're not alone." "What, do you want me to arm the girls? After they hit the Mob compound outside of Chicago there were fifteen dead. I won't put any of them through that again." "I wasn't talking about them." "Well unless you're really Wonder Woman or Batgirl under those clothes, I seem to be out of options." She gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I am willing to bet my past is more checkered than your own, my dear man." "You're not old enough." She chuckled. "We have a few moments, so let me tell you a little story. 30 years ago, my mother married for love, something no one in her family does. If they had their way, the name of her husband would have been Prince Charles." She flicked her eyes toward him. "My mother's family is big on titles, but rather small on money. They had hoped to save their fortunes, and instead my mother, the little harlot as Grandpapa said, married another Charles. A commoner. "My father was worse than they had imagined. He was a wastrel, a man who drifted through life with good looks, snappy patter, and little else. He took her inheritance, something like 30,000 pounds, and went through it in about two years. Not that easy to do in the late 70s, but he succeeded admirably. He then immediately left to find greener pastures. leaving my mother with a suckling child. "Grandfather didn't like the idea of taking her back in, but he did. He set her up in a flat, got her a job, and this scion of a noble house became a secretary. The only one who would have anything to do with her was her brother Eric. Eric was also a black sheep, but his was because of his profession. He was a soldier working with the SAS. "Uncle Eric had always wanted a son, but he never had children, though not for lack of trying. Since he had none of his own, he adopted me as his own. But since he wanted a boy, I was taught everything that child might have wanted to learn. He started by teaching me a little trick with a piano wire and two wooden toggle. That ended as I told you with his parachute accident. "But he had also had me reading books that weren't quite right for a young girl in England. I fell in love with the Modesty Blaise series. A girl as good as any man at fighting, and an expert thief. I also loved the old Avengers series before Diana Rigg left. I have always loved Peelers." She motioned to the jumpsuit. Rob remembered the show, and the clothes Mrs. Pell was known for. By the time I was eighteen, I could shoot, strangle a man with a wire, and lay an explosive train. "Then mother died. It wasn't brave or honorable. She merely forgot to look both ways and got hit by a cab in London one day. Grandfather felt that he no longer had to worry about me, so I was cast from the family bosom. By then I had boys interested in me, and one of them was Phillip, another son of a famous family. In fact when I use my full real name, I would be called Lady Penelope. "He was the heir of the family title, yet he was not that bright a man. He was loyal to a fault, brave beyond belief, but not very cautious. In 2003, he was leading a fire team in the city of Basra when one of his own men accidentally scored an own goal." "I'm sorry." "It was years ago." Her tone said otherwise, but Rob didn't challenge it. "I was suddenly a danger to the family. They didn't have any other children, and didn't want someone like me as Baroness. They came to me, and wisdom was spoken, not by the family, but by their lawyers. I would renounce the title, though I would be allowed to keep the right to be called Lady. In return they would not challenge Phillip's will. I would get the bequests he had given me assuming I left the country and never returned. That came to about 80,000 pounds. I still have most of it. I threw myself into dance, though I am far to tall to be a Ballerina, which might have redeemed me in my own family's eyes. I am also a bit too muscular for the average Ballet troop. The men, little dears they are, would be terrified that I would throw them instead. "So I traveled. I came here, and saw the production starting for the show I am in now. It is a rather naughty version of Cats, without dialogue or songs. Just a group of women in cat ears and animal make up. One of the roles was a lion tamer named Tigra. It's an all female show, and while any woman could snap a whip, they wanted someone physically impressive. Look at me in comparison to the other girls. Most of them are around five-seven or eight They are lithe, but not really what you would call large, except in the breast department for some of them. So here I come, Six foot tall, well muscled, very limber, and quick to pick up the routines. The producer took one look, and was hooked." "So go back to it. All you have to do is tell them I'm a lunatic and kept you prisoner." "Rob, do you know what the difference is between a Las Vegas showgirl, and a prostitute? A prostitute has a pimp that makes her do it. Whether it is drugs or beatings. A showgirl has a producer who suggests that letting this man have his way with her would be a big help with her career if she knows that's good for her. If you don't think of your career, you had best be damn good at dancing because they will find reasons to find girls that are more...pliant. "A prostitute does it because she must, and if she is lucky, she works in one of the houses they allow here in Nevada where she gets paid for what she does. But most are lucky to have a place to sleep. A showgirl is paid then expected to add that one little service to further her career. If she is lucky, she has a producer who cares about her as well, so she doesn't end up with someone who looks like the Michelin man who has money or connections as his claim to fame. Unless of course that is her particular kink." He looked at her. "You've done this." It wasn't a question. "Actually, yes. However my problem is most men want me to dominate and abuse them, so sex hasn't been part of the equation. In the other hand Kimberly became my lover to save herself from such things. I didn't even know I had bisexual tendencies until she decided she wanted more than a room mate. "Quite honestly I have been terrified for the last 24 hours. I have been running frantically to stay in the same place like Alice's Red Queen." "While putting me back together." "You only needed a shoulder to cry on. Once you had gotten past that, you have been fine. Yet I have never felt so alive. I have been looking for something important to do with my life and our friends have given me that. You need help, and I want to continue helping." "Dawn-" "No. Dawn is my stage name. My real last name is Carstairs from my husband, but my first name is really Penelope. Lady Penelope Carstairs has quit her show, and will move on." She grinned. "You and the Faerie are stuck with me." "All right. Then let's find an all night book store. I have a book to buy." "Really?" He explained the way a book code worked. "You'll even enjoy the title." He joked, getting out of the car. "It's an anthology by Esther Freisner named Chicks in Chainmail." Nemesis Runningfox came into the office. "They didn't catch him." Murdock merely sat at the desk. "This man obviously has help, or you are a complete incompetent." Runningfox didn't let him bother him. Too many of the government upper echelon he had worked for thought their pay check would stop Runningfox or his men from removing them. Some had found out they were wrong. "You gave me the message at least five minutes too late." Murdock looked at him, then at the computer. The code necessary to check the mail box where the NSA sent their information was in his head. He didn't dare write it down. For the first time there was an active human presence he could verify working against him, and had escaped from his minions as if they weren't even there. Whoever had trained this Rob must be the premier spymaster of the old Soviet Union! "He had contact with these two women." "And they stopped at the apartment of this Dawn Carstairs. They were gone when we arrived." "Then all of your men are to go into Las Vegas. All of them, not just the ones you want to take." He tossed the dossiers he had requisitioned through the local FBI contact. It combined the local police files as well. "Their friends within 100 miles of this spot are all in there. They can't have run on foot, and their cars are still at the woman's home. So these people must be helping them. Use the FBI badges. Find them immediately. If necessary, the women are to be terminated as well." Runningfox simply looked at him. The fact that they were about to destroy the lives of several people didn't bother him as much as his boss seeming to lose his cool. He decided that when the contract was up, he wouldn't renew. This guy was just a few steps from the deep end. "I need to leave two for commo watch." "By all means." ***** The phone rang, and Dawn picked it up. "Lady Penelope speaking." "Who?" The voice was a woman, suspicious. "I am assisting Rob here," she replied. "May I ask who is calling?" "Monica." "I will get him." She stood, walking into the bedroom they shared. The mob had delivered a rifle which he had field stripped, cleaned, and packed in a carrying bag. The pistol, a Beretta 93R capable of being fired fully automatic was before him already field stripped for cleaning. With the gun in the bag were a row of blocks of C4 plastic explosives along with detonators and radio triggers. "Monica." She said, handing him the phone. He nodded, starting the reassemble the weapon. "Yes, Monica?" "I actually expected you to say Yo, Rob. Since when are you Rambo?" "I never told any of you that I was Rambo before." "Rob, there must be some other way." "Give me one," he snapped. "I can't leave them in enemy hands. As soon as I am ready, I'm going in." Dawn took the phone. "That is, we are going in." "Damn it Dawn." "Lady Penelope." She corrected. "Dawn is dead and gone. She has quit her job, and is already enroute to parts unknown. Kimberly is among the Faerie, and from what I have been told, she will remain. No more discussion, Rob." Rob glared at her. Then lifted the phone again. "It seems I have a Sancho Panza as well, Monica." "To go with your Don Quixote complex." She sighed. "Then for heaven's sake no charging windmills. Be careful, both of you." "That's my middle name." "Yeah, right after 'not very'." He chuckled, pocketing the phone. Edelweiss Lupine and Thistle came in through the back window. "Rob, a vehicle has parked outside. Three men with guns are in it." One instant he was the relaxed man preparing for his evening. The next he was crouched, the weapon aimed ahead of him. "Duck and cover." Dawn/Penelope reached over, racked the bolt of the Desert Eagle, and shook her head. "Together." "Angels and ministers of grace defend us," he whispered. "Then set the gun down. I don't think they are going to bust in-" As he said that, there was a knock on the door. "FBI! Open up!" Penelope, for no trace of Dawn still existed set the hand cannon on the night stand. "Be ready." "What the hell-" "I am going to open the door. If it is some nice gentleman from the FBI, I will turn myself in while you go out the back. If it is not, I will hit the floor." She walked down the hall, stopping at the door. Rob traded out. The Desert Eagle had better penetration. She looked through the peephole, then dropped rolling. An instant later the lock blew inward and the door was kicked in. The first man through had a pump shotgun. Rob had already pulled the trigger before he he'd recognized him as the blonde from the casino. There was a flicker of movement to the right of the door, and he swung the barrel flicking it to fully automatic, putting four rounds through the wall. Someone screamed, then a hand with a pistol fell into view. Rob stood, walking forward, There was still one man, and he had to find him. There was a shot behind him, and he spun. Runningfox had decided to come in through the back door. From the sound of it, it was a good thing. The target was in front of him, and he aimed. One shot would- "Nein!" a voice cried, and something hit the gun as he was finishing the squeeze. He was able to see a woman with wings pulling the barrel aside even as the squeeze finished. A tiny face, terrified yet determined, trying to change the course if death by putting her own fragile form in it's path. He had a shocked instant of seeing her face, her lips moving. Then the gun went off. She had been pulling it aside, and she was in front of the bore when the bullet exploded out of it. Imagine a sixteen inch battleship round going through a man. The bottom part of her body fell, hitting the ground with a wet smack. The upper torso was still clinging to the barrel, and he knew she had been dead the instant he had fired. But her face was at peace. The hands loosened, and the rest of her, far less than half, hit the ground beside her legs. There were cries of pain, and two other Fairy landed beside the body. They looked at the dead, then at him. Their eyes reproachful. He was frozen in time. Her eyes still on her before she had let go. Had her lips formed words? Had she really said 'danken gott'? Thank God? He heard someone approaching, and a meaty hand caught him, slamming him into the wall. Rob was screaming at him, but he didn't hear it. His eyes were on the pitiful remains of his last kill. Rob threw down the weapon. An impersonal bullet at five paces wasn't good enough. Screaming incoherently he caught the older man, lifting and slamming him into the wall hard enough to shatter the window beside him. He wanted to rip his throat out with his teeth. He wanted to press his thumbs into the killer's eyes until they burst. He wanted to pound that face and head until it was bone fragments in a bag of skin. He wanted to use his knife and fillet the son of a bitch with it. Only that staring horrified face stopped him. Killing him now would have been a mercy. Rob dropped him. "Satisfied?" he rasped. Runningfox looked at him. There was a thump. The pistol Runningfox had still held in his hand dropped to the floor. Rob didn't care that he had almost been killed, that he'd forgotten the first rule of combat 'never let you emotions control your actions'. The man in front of him slowly collapsed to the floor, crying. He reached out, then when it was too far, crawled across the room. He picked up the torso and head of Edelweiss, and with a gentleness so unlike what he had done, held it to his face as he cried. Rob grabbed the pistol, sticking it in the back of his pants. Lady Penelope had come running toward him, and was standing looking at the bottom half of Edelweiss. She turned, vomiting. "Penelope, we don't have time for this," he said. She looked at him, a little wild-eyed, but she nodded, picking up the Beretta. She copied him, sliding it into the back of her slacks, then picked up the bag with the rifle. Rob picked the man up, shaking him until he finally had his attention. "If you want to explain this to the police, I'll leave you here. If you don't I suggest you get your head out of your ass. Move Soldier!" Runningfox walked, first hesitantly, then more steadily. The apartment was in a large complex on the eastern fringe of the city. It had only been open for three months, but it was all ready filled. The few people home took one look and decided that this was not their problem. ***** The dawn light painted the streets in red and gold. There are things we do in life that we don't believe ourselves capable of until after the fact. Soldiers face it every day in combat when they see what is undoubtedly another living being and still they pull the trigger. Men who have never cheated on their wives find it when they wake up and see some other face on the pillow beside them. In most cases, they get over it. The soldier tells himself that he really didn't hit anyone. That someone else probably shot that man. I was drunk and she was cute. But even then there are those things you can't get over. In his sixty years, Runningfox had killed men at ranges from three feet to 500 meters. Not thought he had, knew he had. But this... Thank God. He had seen the face, felt the recoil, looked at the tattered remains. He was shaken to his very core. He had killed something beautiful that had never hurt anyone. He had done it, and he would have to live with that. Thank God. What had she been thinking of? What horror had she done been guilty of that only dying would expiate it? He knew his horror. And he knew what would end his torment. The woman drove, and he would have been impressed by her skill if he had been paying attention. The Tar- no, something was horribly wrong here and he was to blame, not the man Murdock had sent him to kill. Rob sat behind him. Runningfox didn't need to see the weapon in his hand hidden from public view. "You know in seven months I have never been up this early," Lady Penelope said. "I am not sure I like it." Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "I for one could use something strong to keep me going. There is a Starbuck's ahead. Would you like something, Rob?" "Coffee. The largest you can get away with legally." "And you?" Runningfox looked up. "Yeah. The same." "How do you take it?" "Black with eight sugars," Rob said. "Just black." "Anything for you, Two?" "Some hot chocolate please?" Thistle said. "That sounds nice," Lupine said. "Of course, dear." Runningfox had forgotten about the Faerie. Now he realized that he had wanted to. To remember them would have meant remembering the other one... The car pulled in, and Lady Penelope pocketed the keys. "Perhaps you two can talk without my influence. Play nice while I am gone, lads. We must plan something." She climbed out, striding into the shop. "I killed her. God forgive me," Runningfox whispered. "Maybe you should consider the others you helped kidnap," Rob snapped. Runningfox's head came up. "Others?" "Yeah. The bag your team snatched have five more Fairy, and two babies in it." He motioned toward the back. "Lupine escaped. That's how we know where they are." "I will have his heart, Rob." "Lupine-" "He stuffed my sisters in a metal box with some kind of gas! He ordered you watched until his return when he would kill you! He is evil!" "I-" "Save it until you die!" she screamed. Rob watched him. "I know, you weren't told. You didn't know. What did Murdock say? That I was a terrorist with something nasty in the case?" Runningfox nodded. "It made the rest of the instructions make sense." "What were they?" "Kill you, take the bag, be very careful handling it. Put it in a sealed container in the trunk," Runningfox repeated his orders. "So you helped some lunatic steal my baby and my lover and intended to kill me too." Runningfox looked up. "How do you know Murdock?" "Edelweiss could have given you chapter and verse if you hadn't killed her," Rob snapped brutally. "Until about five years ago she was a scientist with your lunatic Murdock-" "Professor Von Hagen," Runningfox said. "He disappeared right after we arrived. Murdock said he'd been reassigned." "No. He was helping that ignorant mother-fucker brutalize Fairy from Germany to here. You want a simple explanation? Fine. Let's just say some fanatic from the cold war saw them as the perfect weapon. Problem is, they don't want to be our perfect weapons. Murdock thinks they are just little animals, and you know what a scientist that doesn't care can do to an animal." Runningfox looked in the back seat. The two girls were cuddling, still mourning their loss. The other Fairy looked at him, and he flinched at the hatred in that look. "I can take you there." "Edelweiss knew where it is. Lupine knows. All I need is some extra firepower. I don't have it, but I can't wait. While we're talking he might be dissecting them, using shock therapy to make them prove they can follow instructions." "You said babies?" "Two. Calla and Hope." Rob's hands clenched. "Hope is my daughter by Trillium, one of the Faerie he has captured. The man is fucking with the only family I have, and you helped him!" Runningfox turned. He had been right. The Desert Eagle was level with his crotch. If Rob pulled the trigger now he'd blow both thigh bones to dust, and kill him. "May I call you Rob?" The man nodded sharply. "Rob, I swear if I had known what the bastard was doing, I would have taken the place down to the ground myself. Please believe that." He looked at the Faerie. "Ladies, if I survive, I will lay still and let you cut my heart out." He looked back at Rob. "Let me help. Please." Rob glared at him. Then he set the safety, putting the gun away. Runningfox motioned to his jacket. "May I?" At Rob's curt nod, he pulled out a cell phone. He hit the speed dial. "Lopez, Code Comstock immediate, I say again, Comstock immediate. Do not I repeat do not notify Murdock. Let him stew." He closed the phone. "Rob, I have reduced our enemies to just one. The code tells all of my men to pack it in and run like hell. Murdock won't know what's happening. There are seven rooms in the sealed complex. I can get us in, I can't guarantee getting us out. But I am going with you." Rob nodded. Lady Penelope returned. She set the chocolate for the Faerie in the back holder, giving each of them his beverage. "I hope you have been playing nicely." "He's in," Rob told her. "Oh good. I didn't want to mess up a rental." She slid into the seat, taking her own cappuccino. "What have we decided?" ***** FROM ROB TO ALL STATIONS: 6-3-3, 2-21-1,132-19- 4, 5-23-1, 6-21-1, 5- 23-1, 6-21-1, 11-30-9, 37-1-7, 4-12-1, 13-3-5, 4-12-1, 13-3-5, 4-1-2, 11-2-2,10-11-2, 8-6-4, 27-48-6, 6-11-10, 11-30-8,11-4-3, 7-5-2, 42-38-7 (For those of you who don't have the book): ENEMY SOLDIER SUBDUED ONE OF OUR NEW FRIENDS DEAD. WITH US. ONLY KING REMAINS. ONE OF US WILL CONTACT YOU WHEN DONE. LOVE Freedom The car drove down the gravel road. They stopped at the chain link/barbed wire, and Lady Penelope punched in the code Runningfox had already given her. They drove forward. There were no cars outside the bunker. She pulled up as instructed. Rob and Runningfox climbed out. "If the shit hits the fan in the next few minutes, drive like hell east." Runningfox pointed in case she didn't know the direction. "The fence between Sigma 7 and eight is weakened intentionally. You might ruin the car, but you will be out of here." "What about you?" Runningfox and Rob shared a look. Rob answered the question. "If that happens, neither one of us is coming out of there alive." "Well then I suggest both of you get out of there. I will wait until you have." "You're a crazy bitch, Lady P," Rob said fondly. "Don't ride it into the ground." He cocked the Desert Eagle. Runningfox took the Sig Saur he had been carrying, and cocked it. "If that didn't convince you, picture ten pounds of C4 blowing the complex to hell." He drew a line with his finger pointing that encompassed the car and it's occupant. "You don't want to be here when that happens." "You are both certifiable." "And your point?" Rob took his gun, and stuck it in the small of his back again. She sighed, driving the car far enough out of the area of assured destruction. Both Lupine and Thistle flew from the car. Lupine nestled herself against Runningfox's collar. "I will still have your heart!" She hissed. Rob nodded, raising his arms. Runningfox moved behind him, the gun in his hands. They approached the door, and Runningfox gave him the code to enter. The door slid aside, and they entered. The inner door snapped open. Morgan looked up, and Runningfox raised his piece and fired, the bullet going into Morgan's head. He ran to the main control, entering his code. The door opened. "Move!" ***** It had gone horribly wrong, and Murdock wasn't sure how. He had been interrogating the enemy plants when the door had opened. He triggered the security system. ***** Rob was moving through the door, but a push from behind had him diving for the floor even as there was a roar of munitions over his head. Runningfox fell, guts flying, body falling as he absorbed the claymore that had been set. On the edge of it, Rob felt several ball bearings rip through him. He knew he was badly wounded possibly dying, but he had a mission first. He had been trained, and training saved him. The Desert Eagle came up, and Rob punched two rounds out. The first took Murdock in the chest. The second, driven by recoil, took the man between the eyes. Runningfox was gasping his life out, the claymore had gutted him as efficiently as might be anticipated. "Thistle!" Rob moaned. He was concentrated on the computer screen as she flew back toward the wounded man. As good as he might be at killing the enemy, Rob was at a loss. He dragged himself over. He decided to call for help. He brought up a website where he could connect ALL STATIONS, ALL STATIONS, THIS IS ROB. I NEED HELP! MUST DELETE TOTAL HARD DRIVE. There was a pause. then; CORN-SILK HERE. WHAT SYSTEM? I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA. MUST DELETE TOTAL SYSTEM... E-MAIL ATTACHED TO NSA DATA BASE. OUR COMMUNICATIONS BEING RECORDED. CORN-SILK HERE. ROB; I NEED TO KNOW WHAT TYPE OF SYSTEM. THEY ALL HAVE DIFFERENT WAYS OF DOING THIS. IS IT A LINUX, MAC OR IBM CLONE? He looked at the case of the tower. IT THINK IT'S AN IBM. WAIT ONE. He brought up a screen by clicking document icon. USING MICROSOFT FOR WINDOWS CORN-SILK HERE: OKAY. IT'S AM IBM. THAT MAKES IT EASIER THAN PULLING HARDWARE. REFORMAT ALL HARD DRIVES. ?????????????? CORN-SILK HERE. GO FIRST TO MY COMPUTER. IF THERE ARE DRIVES THAT DO NOT HAVE DETACHABLE SOFTWARE MERELY RIGHT CLICK THE DRIVE AND HIT FORMAT. YOU CAN'T DO THE MAIN C DRIVE THAT WAY, BUT YOU CAN WITH THE OTHERS. WHEN IT ASKS, JUST SAY YES. ONCE DONE WITH THEM, TO MSDOS. TYPE IN FORMAT C:/ WHEN IT ASKS, SAY YES. DOS CANNOT BE REMOVED, SO IT WILL AUTOMATICALLY EMPTY OUT THE DRIVE AND REFORMAT IT AS IF NEW. WAIT ONE; IS THERE A RESTORE DISC? He looked around, finally finding a compact disc marked Restore. YES. EVEN BETTER. AFTER REFORMATTING THE REST OF THE SYSTEM, USE THE RESTORE DISC. IT WILL AUTOMATICALLY RESET EVERYTHING AS IF NONE OF IT HAD EVER EXISTED. Rob held a hand against the wound in his stomach, and patiently began typing in the instructions. ***** Runningfox was at peace. He had felt the impacts, knew he was dying, and was at peace. His last act before all hell had broken loose was to grab Lupine, holding in front of his face. If the claymore hit that high, hopefully his skull would slow the shrapnel down enough. Then he had heard and felt that blast His legs felt as if they had been amputated and he could tell that he had been eviscerated. Above his face, he could see Lupine, heard her screaming at him. But it wasn't important. He felt a pain in his throat. Then again, and again. ***** Rob didn't know what to do. The person, Corn-silk gave direction, and he accepted it. The system busily hummed, deleting every file as instructed. Picture your own consciousness. Picture a button that will delete every thought or memory that does not come from your genetic make-up. Now picture pushing that button, knowing what will be lost, but not caring... ***** The computer lobotomized itself as Rob turned. His eyes caught at the horror behind the desk. Ten jars. He stared at them in horror at what was in them, then his arm swept across, all of the jars smashing on the floor. He took the important part, that is the bodies, putting them in a separate empty jar together. "Trillium!" he screamed, "Trillium!" ***** The testing had been boring actually. Murdock had come back at about dawn. He'd taken Blue belle first. Then a short while later, had come and taken Rose. Then he had returned and Trillium had been taken. In each case, the old bastard had taken them in a clear plastic case into another room. Trillium, with an IQ around 120 had found she had to prove able to maneuver through a standard Skinner maze. From listening to the twerp reporting, she had been through the same maze that both Blue Belle and Rose had already been through. Not that the maze itself was hard. A child of perhaps ten would have figured it out. Then had been the revised version of the same maze, adding altitude as well. Again, nothing a human child of ten would have considered overly complex. But Murdock seemed to think it was the Rosetta stone. She had finished the latest series when the attack began. She had barely been locked back in the box stuffed in the bottom drawer when all hell broke loose. Picture whatever war movie you might want to remember; Now convert the sound to the 'sense-surround' used during the 70s for such movies as Earthquake and Midway... Last; picture all of that sound compressed into a single room and within perhaps ten seconds. That is what combat on the personal level is like. To a human it would have been loud and abrupt. To the Faerie it was like being stuck inside a kettle drum before a percussion set was played. Both she and Rose clutched their children to their bosoms as reverberations from hell assaulted young ears. But as you are protecting the child, your own ears are uncovered. Trillium mewled in agony as the sound blasted over her. She tried to hold the baby in a supportive lattice, but her own pain caused her arms to tighten, and Hope screamed in fear. In the din, she thought she heard Rob calling. Trillium! He screamed, Trillium! ***** The bottom drawer was jammed, and he almost blew the lock off. But if they were in there... He threw out the drawer above it, but there was a solid steel panel between it and the drawer below. Growling he locked his hands on the offending drawer set his feet against the desk itself, and threw his whole body into it. He felt muscle straining, what might be a hernia giving, muscles tearing and still he pulled. There was a screech of tortured metal, then the drawer was in his lap. There was a plastic case there, and he popped the small opening open with the one hand that still worked. For a horrified moment, Rob thought he was too late. Then a spiral of lights came up. Three lights, with two smaller ones. He felt his pain at one remove. He knew without looking that the desperate attempt to free them had ripped the tendons in both legs one arm and his abdomen, exacerbating the wounds he had taken. He might not be dying, but he had crippled himself quite efficiently. Even with modern surgery, he was bound for a wheelchair. Pain drove him toward unconsciousness. ***** "Rose!" Trillium shouted. Both she and Blue Belle landed, and Trillium felt her fangs stretch out as she injected her love. ***** Lady Penelope felt less like Mrs. Peel and more like every other science fiction heroine was she waited in the car. Dressed to the nines, and unable to actually help. All she needed was a twisted ankle. After about twenty minutes, lights suddenly flowed from one of the vents, and she watched them drop into the car. Two of the Faerie, from what she later heard the youngest began tapping out instructions. She had followed the instructions. walking into that hell, setting the charges where she had been bid, then ran back out. As she stepped over the coaming getting out, she slipped and damned if she didn't twist her ankle! She limped to the car and punched the gas. She was at the gate when one of the Faerie gave her the direction, and she hit the switch. Behind her, the ground shivered, bulging upward, then collapsed. New life Runningfox clutched his side, not in pain, but remembered pain. He saw far above him the sky, and the exterior of the car. Beside him he saw a woman, and he recognized Lupine. His eyes filled with tears. She knelt beside him, a hand running down his face. "You brave fool," she whispered. Then lips the right size to be comfortable brushed his. ***** The city hadn't had this much turmoil in years. Two shoot-outs, one at the Venetian, another in an apartment complex. Bodies scattered everywhere, but no clue as to who they might be. They didn't know about what had happened in the desert and considering the location, probably never would. The local papers reported them for perhaps four days total, then went on to other news. ***** Rob sighed, stretching. Trillium was like a limpet on his side, and as much as he hated it, he slid free of her. The local Fair had a section of abandoned sewer line with a septic tank they had marked as their own, and he walked down the hall into the main room. Hyssop nodded to him, as did Kalnia, the woman that had once been Kimberly. "Rob." Hyssop nodded to him. "Runningfox is in the next room." He nodded, walking through into the common room. Lupine still held the body of the man that had been her enemy. He had become a female as all men did upon mating, but he lay there still staring at the wall. He looked shell-shocked. "Rob." Lupine's wail was for help, and the female body Rob now inhabited dropped beside her. He looked wordlessly at Runningfox, and Rob took matters into his own hands. He slapped Runningfox, putting all of his arm behind it. After the third slap a hand caught his. "Enough." Runningfox opened his eyes. He saw Rob, but didn't recognize him. Not surprising. Then he saw Lupine. "Lady, my heart is there to take." He reached up, nonplused when he felt a full breast there. "We can discuss that later," she said, kissing him gently. Her paired wings fluttered. "I'd like you to come in the other room, Runningfox. There's something you have to see." The newly minted Fairy followed him. He was a bit surprised to recognize Lady Penelope at about his height, yet with the single wings of a Pixy. There were a row of eleven bodies their size below simple cloths. Rob went to one of them, his feminine hand running across it. "This one was named Privet. She was a local. Murdock caught her not long after you arrived here in Las Vegas." He went down the line. "From what Edelweiss had told them, these others were captured in Germany, England, Virginia, and Colorado." He stopped at the last. "This one is from Southern California. God forgive me, I brought her here with me. She was in that case along with Lupine Thistle, Blue Belle, Rose, and her child Calla, and my love Trillium and our child Hope." His hand ran along the cloth, and his voice grew ragged as he fought both tears and fury. "Her name was Pear Blossom. Murdock drowned her in formaldehyde to convince the others that he would kill them all." He lifted the last, where Edelweiss lay silently. Rob turned around standing. "Now, I have one question for you. Do you want to die or atone?" Runningfox walked over, kneeling. He pulled the cloth back, looking at Pear Blossoms screaming face. He gently replaced the cloth. Then he went down the line, looking at each of them in turn. He knelt by the last, then looked up at the silent Faerie. "I don't see how I can atone except in death. Tell me, was Edelweiss German?" Rob nodded silently. "Her death was caused by me, but I think it was what she wanted. She was the professor. I saw him and thought he was just always sad." He brushed the cloth covering that mutilated body. "If I had done this," he waved down the line, "I would have eaten a bullet thirty years ago." "It was forbidden," Hyssop replied. "She wished to pay back what she had done, and dying would not have done so." She shrugged her shoulders. "She has not been happy, and we have no children of her body at her own request. This debt-" She motioned toward the dead, "has been paid again and again, yet she never felt she had." "I understand why," Runningfox said. "Was that ban lifted?" "Yes. When Rob told us he intended to destroy Murdock's operation, I gave her the right to die at the proper time." "And I gave her that." He walked down to the body second from the end. It was in pieces. He lifted the cloth, gazing at the still serene face. "Be at peace, Van Hagen. I hope god will forgive you." He leaned back on his heels, looking at them. "I ask that you decide. Execute me, or let me take her place." He bent, kissing the cheek. "I have as much if not more to atone for." "There is a third option," Rob told him. He looked at the queen, who nodded. "We have so few humans that can assist. I'd rather you worked off your debt by helping us." He explained the Fairy Genome Project, and what he had been doing. "When I sent out the Comstock code, my team scattered to the four winds. As far as they knew, this was an illegal operations and had been blown. Ten minutes after I sent it, they had new names, and were already headed out of town. None of us knew what Murdock has been doing. No one at the government should have a clue," Runningfox said. "I'm just the hired help." "A kite." "Yeah." Runningfox looked at the body again. "Will you trust me?" He asked the women. "May I speak, your grace?" Lupine asked. Hyssop waved languidly. "When we entered the enemy place, it was he that killed the one man of his remaining. When Rob walked into the trap, it was he that threw Rob aside in an attempt to save his from injury. At that same time he turned so that I was protected." She looked at Runningfox. "He must atone, and that punishment is for you who have lost so much to decide." The Queen looked at the girl, then at Rob. "You have suggestions?" "No, ma'am. How you deal with him is up to you." Hyssop looked at the man. Was there pity in that gaze? "Human, you are what was called an Indian. Do your people have oaths?" "We never break them," he said. "Not even to your employer?" "My job was to help the son of a bitch. I was bound by no oaths." Runningfox walked over to stand before her, then knelt as had Lupine. "Kill me if you will, trap me in this body if you will. Let me help Rob. Your decision I will accept gladly. When I awoke I offered my heart to Lupine to be cut from me, and I promised both her and Thistle that I would not try to stop them." He motioned toward the sword one of the Faerie held. "If I must, I will cut it out myself." She nodded, looking around the woman that stood there. She motioned to one of the Faerie, who brought over a perfume sample bottle filled with a gold syrupy liquid. "The venom of a rattlesnake, Runningfox. They shall envenom their blades here as we speak." Both Lupine and Thistle dipped their swords in the venom. "At our size just a cut from these blades will kill you. If you want to die, you know what to do." Runningfox walked over, kneeling before the women. He closed his eyes, brining himself to stillness. Then he reached out. The blade move back from him. He reached toward the other, and it also moved away. "It is decided. You shall help Rob. You will gather the children of our race back to the mother bosom, and until that is done your duty has not been done. What say you?" He looked up. "I swear by all the gods of my people that until the last of Faerie are found and brought into the fold, I shall not consider dying." "Very well, my judgment is this. Lupine and Thistle?" The girls stepped forward. "You two shall be his watchers. He will be allowed to help Rob in his endeavors. If at any time you feel that he has not lived up to the oath we claim of him, you shall kill him." ***** Runningfox as the one who wasn't being actively sought by the local police went out and got the vehicles. He had gotten a Honda Prius for himself, and a Toyota to replace Lady Penelope's car. He had used his contacts to get her an ID in the name of Lady Penelope Carstairs. All of it had come out of his own pocket. A week later, they sat in a restaurant in North Las Vegas planning two routes instead of one. Rob and the girls would go north then east. Lady Penelope and Runningfox would go west to LA to check in, then north through the Pacific states, British Columbia and Alaska, then finally west across Canada. Runningfox slapped his head. "Oh, I got something." He looked around. A needless precaution, he had made sure they were in the back, and had paid the waitress a large tip to merely look back rather than walk there every few moments. He had purchased camera hard-cases, for each team with panels neatly cut that would pop out with the kick of a Faerie foot. If anyone tried the same thing, the girls would fly free leaving the thieves nothing. His case opened and three heads stuck up. Lupine and Thistle had taken him as their special project, accompanied by a local Las Vegas Fairy named Jasmine. It was starting to get where they needed to append place names. Jasmine (Who had told them she had met three Faerie with her name in her 800 year lifespan) already called herself Jasmine of Las Vegas. Rib's case held the babies, Trillium, Rose and Blue Belle. Lady Penelope's held only two, Kalnia and Yucca. Runningfox lifted a bag, and took out small presentation cases. There were 8 of them about four inches long and two wide. He nudged them into the center of the table. "These are for the girls," he said. He pushed a box toward each. Trillium looked at him coldly. She had yet to forgive him his attempts on Rob's life. He bowed his head, tapping a box. "This one is yours, Trillium." She knelt, flipping up the clasp. In it was... She looked up at him. She pulled out the sheathed sword with a baldric strap, actually the best way for a Faerie to carry a blade this size. On the blade in miniscule etching to a normal sized human being were the words 'Forgiveness is earned, not given'. On the pommel, she touched it with a suddenly loving hand. A micro miniature photograph of herself and Rob, holding each other in sleep, baby Hope nestled between them. Below it was what looked like a compound bow and a sheaf of arrows. Under that- she giggled. It was a miniature baby carrier harness with tiny strips of Velcro instead of buckles. "How?" Thistle asked. Her blade had been engraved with 'Fidelity'. "You would be surprised what you can't buy in Las Vegas. I knew of a place where the man made miniature weapons for action figures and statues. I told him to make them for real. He thought I was maybe a silly fan but hey, I'm the guy who handed him a thousand dollars to do it. The blades are weapons grade steel. I knew of another place where they claimed they could engrave your name on a grain of rice. They did the engraving on the blades with a laser. The bow will work, but I can't guarantee the arrows. The boxes are just standard jewelry boxes." "This." Trillium touched the pommel stone. "Microfilm made the right size and inserted." Runningfox looked away embarrassed. "I owe you and Rose more than any." Rose was looking at her blade, a curved saber as she preferred. The Engraving on hers was 'To repay what can never be forgiven'. Her case also included a baby carrier. "And why does my case not also have a carrier?" Lupine asked flippantly. "You won't need it for at least eight months." Runningfox told her. "But..." He pulled out a small piece of soft paper. The carrier rested there. "I was going to give it to you in a couple of months." She drew her sword. It was an almost exact duplicate of a Japanese Katana. On it was engraved 'Beloved redeemer'. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?" Rob asked. The others shook their heads. "Then we'll meet in Los Angeles before Christmas." Runningfox stood, hefting his case. Lady Penelope slid out, reached up, and kissed Rob on the cheek. "Be careful" "It's-" "I know, your middle name." She finished grinning. "Right after not very." She picked up her case. Rob walked out, smelling the heat in the air. Now North to Henderson, and points east. Communications at last "There." The Fairy sized Henry looked not unlike Angelina Jolie. He finished inputting the last algorithm on the palm pilot, sending it to his computer. He would have to spend some time talking to Corn-silk to find out what she was using as a warning device for a locator spike. He had considered downloading an e-book copy of the book