Tales of a Hustler Hunter Fresh Meat
- 4 years ago
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A CASE CONFERENCE
Anatoly is a hunter, he enjoys the wild places, the pursuit of game; of birds and fish. But Anatoly has another, favourite prey. For him, the best quarry of all is homo sapiens urbis: the only species that provides what he considers a true match for his resourcefulness and cunning.
And because the sport does not end with a kill, there is the shock and dismay of capture to enjoy; the entertainment to be had from careful training and schooling until the prey accepts the life that Anatoly has chosen for it.
Tverskaya Ulitsa is one of Moscow's busiest streets. Throughout the day, the traffic pours down from the west into the city centre. It's full of people and that provides an excellent cover for Anatoly. He has an office and apartment just by the junction of Tverskaya and Bryusov Pereulok. Visitors, anonymous in the crowds, can slip in and out of his building and he can enjoy the peace and serenity of the garden square at the rear.
Anatoly looks at his watch. The fruits of his most recent hunting trip are "enjoying" his hospitality at his facility outside Moscow. They will be meeting their new owner just about now, realising that there's more to their abduction than kidnapping for ransom or some political game.
It had been an unusual commission. Three Slavic types, sallow skin, with some "presence", the request had said. To Anatoly, the candidates that his research team had found looked homely if he was being polite, but the client had approved. He'd spent a long time picking over the research papers and surveillance photos before making his choice. Anatoly had seen the girls just after they'd been picked up. The way that the ropes grooved into their flesh as they struggled held a strange fascination. Perhaps that was what he client liked. "We're going to need heavier gear if we make a habit of picking up targets like this, boss," the leader of the pick up team had said. Anatoly had smiled. They'd clear a good profit by keeping this client happy.
Being overweight is not as common in Russia as it is in some western countries. Anatoly had been worried that the targets were perhaps somewhat out of condition? Sure, it was what the client asked for, but what would others think? Still, if the client wanted girls with some "presence", that's what he should get. The customer is always right, so they say, but not necessarily exactly right. Perhaps the "presence" should be muscle, not fat? A shot-putter, not a couch potato. Such a transformation would take time, Anatoly thought, but it could be done and it was more in his style. After all, he had a reputation to keep up. The client would have to wait for his prizes.
Now that decision is made, Anatoly turns to another challenge. He has a more exacting project - a more rewarding project - to think about.
Today he meets his hunting party for the next outing. It's the preliminary meeting to discuss where they will find their prey; the chase; the capture and the transportation to Anatoly's estate outside the city. They review electronic surveillance of the subject: landline and mobile phone call transcripts, e-mail traffic and a swatch of recent photographs taken by one of Anatoly's advanced party, already on the ground. They consider the possible movements of their quarry and pay particular attention to some of the photographs. She has quite a striking appearance but they still want to be sure. There are pictures showing her alone, with others, serious, smiling and laughing, at work and shopping in town.
There is no substitute for being thorough. Anatoly's former career in the KGB has stood him in very good stead. He smiles when he thinks how in recent years, government agencies have been able to cooperate so much more effectively with businessmen in private enterprise. It has brought so many practical advantages. Anatoly cannot understand why some of the western governments try to place such rigid and impermeable walls between state organisations and business enterprises.
Still, he thinks, their loss is my advantage ... And he needs an advantage if he is going to get his next prey from Britain to Russia.
Transportation can often be a problem, especially if an item is coming from outside the Russian Federation. There are customs formalities; inspections, audit trails – too many opportunities for unexpected problems to arise. The last commercial transaction with the Clegg Organisation had made the use of airfreight risky. That particular "export" involved the supposed repatriation of the last mortal remains of a young lady who was not quite as deceased as might normally be expected for the occupant of a casket. (1) There had been "problems" when she was found. Anatoly suspected that Clegg or someone in his organisation was responsible for warning the police that something was going on. It was too soon to try that again, at least from the United Kingdom.
On the other hand, what about a medical repatriation? Anatoly knows that the ill can travel under sedation if necessary, with a nurse to accompany them and perhaps the nurse might also be a guardian, even a minder? Perhaps that offers a solution? He calls a trusted colleague.
MEDICINE WITHOUT FRONTIERS
"Artur!" Anatoly's greeting is spirited. He and the Doctor shared some interesting experiences in past years. Anatoly has respect for Hahn's thoroughness and reliability. Artur Hahn is an Orthopaedic Surgeon from Liepzig in Germany, actually the former communist East Germany. Hahn had pursued a dual career in medicine and in the Stasi. That was how their paths had first crossed. Now, thanks to new regulations which establish the free movement of labour and the mutual recognition of medical qualifications across all member states, Hahn can work anywhere he wishes in the European Community. At present he is in London, convenient for Anatoly's current problem.
"волк!" the Doctor exclaims. It's good to hear from the old wolf. "Are you hunting again, Anatoly?"
"You know me," he replies disarmingly, "how can I do otherwise? It's like they say, Ско́лько во́лка ни корми́, он всё в лес смо́трит."
Sure, thinks Hahn, 'However well you feed the wolf, he still looks at the woods.' – that's Anatoly all over. "How can I help?"
"Suppose you had a patient who had an accident."
"Hypothetically?"
"Of course. And this hypothetical patient needed to return here to Mother Russia. How difficult would that be? How much – scrutiny – might you expect?"
"It depends," Artur replies, "on how ill the patient is and how they travel. If their return is being funded through their travel insurance, they will be accompanied by a doctor nominated by the insurers and the insurers will arrange all the flights. The doctor will visit the patient first and make an assessment of their fitness to travel. They much prefer if the patient is well enough to take a scheduled flight. If the patient is transferred by Air Ambulance, a doctor from the ambulance company will visit the patient in the UK to assess the situation and then contact the hospital the patient is being taken to. They may even visit the destination hospital first to discuss the management of the patient in the days before transfer. When transfer arrangements are confirmed, the air ambulance team will take charge of the patient at every stage of their journey from the UK hospital to the destination hospital in Russia." Artur can almost sense Anatoly's dissatisfaction with the answer. "I imagine this is not good news. Not quite what you were hoping for?"
"You are right, Artur. It is a very disappointing answer."
"Do not despair, old friend. You have set me an interesting problem. They have a saying in Britain – 'Where there is a will, there is a way!' Leave this with me and I shall see what I can do. Things are not always as difficult as they may appear at first sight."
It is only a few days later when Dr Hahn contacts Anatoly once more with his thoughts on Anatoly's problem and some proposals to solve it. It seems that a hunting expedition is a practical possibility. Anatoly is pleased. Artur has shown once more how ingenuity and persistence can overcome obstacles.
A plan and a schedule are agreed. The hunting party will be resident one week before they act. They will remain in constant contact with Anatoly who will provide a four times daily update of the quarry's activities and projected movements, as gleaned from Anatoly's continuing, electronic monitoring and surveillance.
ACADEMIC LIMITS
It's Friday. It's a regular day at the university. I bump into Cathy as I get into the college building. She shakes her head. "Oh dear, Jenny McEwan are you in trouble!"
She's not serious, I can tell by the way she's smiling at me.
"The Prof is looking for you. Said she was reviewing your project with you this morning."
Cathy's right. I am calling to see Professor Dawney but I'm not due in her office for another twenty minutes.
Dawney is my research supervisor. She likes to keep in touch with what's happening on the project. I like to make sure she doesn't get involved in it any more than is necessary.
There is a shared history between us and a tension that neither of us likes to acknowledge. I suppose Angela blames me and I blame her for the things which happened. Neither of us wants to let the other know our true feelings. In any case, my life has moved on. I am not interested in Angela any more. I'm not sure that the reverse is true.
"Well, Jenny, how are you getting along?" Professor Dawney exudes uncomplicated, professional, coolness. I suspect that she has other interests in the project but I'm happy if she wants to pretend that it is all just another, ordinary, piece of academic research.
"I'm quite pleased with progress." I reply, keeping my true feelings in check, submerging them under the minutiae of my project activities and the politeness of professionalism. "Data collection is complete and I have been able to send the data capture forms to Data Prep, to be coded, cleaned and entered into SPSS(2). Once that's done it won't be long before I have the descriptive statistics and we will then get some idea of what analytical work we can do..."
"Jenny, that's excellent." Dawney seems perfectly happy to focus on the project: "I'm pleased. The project is really beginning to gather some momentum."
"I think so. It certainly looks like that." I am keen to take advantage of the Professor's apparent approval. "Er, next week Joe is going abroad: would it be OK with you if I had an away-day in London to see him off? Andy says he can cover my undergraduate tutorials and there are some references I would like to follow up at the Royal Society of Medicine. They have some hard copy journals that our library does not take. I think it will be quicker to take advantage of Joe's trip than arranging an inter-library loan or asking the RSM(3) to send photocopies."
"Jenny, of course. That would be just fine. Enjoy the trip – let's get together again after the weekend and when you've got the first results back from the data."
Dawney seems happy to have the chance to grant me a favour. She likes to build up credits with her students.
I smile in acknowledgment: "Thanks. By the way, how was your Russian trip?"
"Oh, fine. Chance to meet some old friends. That seems so long ago now! I've had a lot on my mind for the past few months..."
Prof looks a little wistful. It's very uncharacteristic but the moment doesn't last long. She's soon back to the one thing she talks about best: work. "Some interesting new research going on too. I'll let you see the proceedings if you like; some of the methods which were under discussion might be relevant when you come to analyse your data."
"Mmm," I say noncommittally. I'm not keen to give Angela more of an opportunity to involve herself in the detail of the project than necessary.
I leave Angela's office feeling happy. I am going to have the opportunity for a last day out with Joe. That will be a good way to send him off.
A DAY IN THE SADDLE
It is Saturday. Anna Tereshkova arrives at London's Heathrow Airport using a passport in the name of Vyera Kuznetsova. She is visiting some friends near Windsor. She's looking forward to some riding. Her friends have stables near Englefield Green. They spend a fine Sunday afternoon galloping in Great Park; by the end of the day, she's hot. Her tee-shirt beneath her body protector is soaked in sweat, her hair beneath her riding cap, plastered down against her scalp. By the time she has the horse back in the stables it's not clear which smells more of horse, her or the stables.
As she emerges from the stable block a Mercedes people carrier pulls up. Doctor Hahn gets out. "Anna," he greets her.
"I think you should say 'Vyera', shouldn't you?" she responds teasingly.
"Of course. Has your accident caused you much pain?"
Anna / Vyera grins. "Not so far, but now you mention it, Doctor, I think I am beginning to suffer some considerable discomfort."
"Well, in that case. Perhaps we should take you to hospital – they are expecting us. First, though, we have some work to do!"
In the kitchen, Anna strips off her jacket and shirt and begins to make ready. There are various preparations to be made: some are rather exotic and others require a considerable degree of technical precision. When she is ready, Hahn swabs her arm and her back to one side of her lumbar spine with alcohol. He takes blood from her arm and re-injects under the skin to the right of her spine, together with a little normal saline solution. When he has finished, Anna really is in some discomfort. He helps her into his vehicle, reclining the seat and strapping her in. Hahn regularly uses a private hospital close to Lords Cricket Ground. It's a significant distance from Windsor and Anna is now very glad when the journey is over.
"What did you say that patient's name was, Dr Hahn?" the Admissions Sister asks. (4)
"Kuznetsova," Hahn replies, "Vyera Kuznetsova. She has had a fall from a horse and I think she has bruised muscles in her back: there could also be damage to some of the transverse vertebral processes. Perhaps even a fracture. We should make her comfortable and keep her under observation tonight at least. I would like to do some tests to ensure that she can travel but of course her family would like her to return home as soon as is safe."
By the mid morning on Monday, physical examination shows bruising beginning to appear lateral to Anna's lumbar spine, exactly as one might expect from Dr Hahn's initial diagnosis.
Standard x-rays do not confirm a fracture, but the swelling in the area has reduced the clarity of the image.
All in all, the clinical evidence tends to confirm Dr Hann's suggestion of muscle damage with perhaps an un-displaced fracture of at least one of the transverse vertebral processes – and Anna is clearly in discomfort when she moves. However, with no neurological symptoms such as numbness or paraesthesia or loss of motor nerve function, there is not enough to justify more searching investigation like CT and MR scanning. (5) The treatment is rest, analgesics, careful mobilisation and physiotherapy.
Recovery will take some weeks and the Doctor's proposal – to send Vyera back home under sedation to control the discomfort of the journey seems completely reasonable.
Vyera's family has arranged a private flight back and Dr Hahn, as a friend of the family, arranges to transfer her to the airport assisted by one of his medical colleagues and one of his practice nurses."
REPATRIATION
London's main commercial airports - Heathrow, Stanstead, Luton and Gatwick, are all very busy. They deal primarily with scheduled commercial flights and air freight. In recent years private international flights have been redirected elsewhere, including to new facilities at a former military airfield between Camberley and Aldershot, close to the south western edge of London. On Monday, the duty manager at the airfield receives a call from a Doctor Artur Hahn. He is an orthopaedic surgeon, or so he says. He is caring for a Russia national who has had a riding accident whilst on holiday in Windsor. She has possibly suffered fractures of some of the transverse processes of her lower spinal vertebrae and needs to be flown home under sedation and medical supervision. Fortunately the family has been able to charter a private jet which is presently at the airport. Hahn thinks the patient will be fit to fly on Tuesday. Can he arrange the details with the airport medical officer? He mentions the hospital where he works, leaves his mobile number and the number of his rooms. (6)
The duty manger passes the enquiry on to the medical officer. She knows the hospital but she's never had any dealings with Hahn. It's a bit of a coincidence though - she was chatting with some of the other airport staff a couple of days ago and one of them mentioned him. Who was it? Oh yes – one of the admin people. She was saying that she'd been referred to him and did anyone know anything about him?
The Medical Officer is a cautious, meticulous woman. She checks the hospital number from the internet and calls back, asking to speak to Dr Hahn. The MO wants to make sure that this is a genuine call and that the doctor actually is who he claims to be. She returns the call to the doctor's hospital, not to the numbers given to the duty manager.
The line buzzes. The call is answered.
"Airport Medical Officer speaking. Can I have a word with Dr Hahn. Returning his call to me."
"Ah..." the secretary pauses " ... I'm afraid he's not here at the moment. Can I Help? er – is it about the Russian girl?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Of course. I can give you his mobile number. Get back to me if you can't reach him."
The number corresponds to the number given to the airport duty manager.
The MO is feeling more confident now, but first calls back to the hospital and asks to be put through to the nursing team caring for Dr Hahn's patient. They confirm the details of the patient and the tentative diagnosis of the patient's injury adding that the patient really does seem to be in some real discomfort. They also offer her a number for Dr Hahn's mobile. It is the same number left for her by Dr Hahn and also given to her by his hospital secretary. Next the MO calls Dr Hahn himself on the mobile number she has verified. Hahn is absolutely charming and only too happy to provide her with all the information she asks for. The MO is completely reassured. She looks forward to helping in any way she can.
STREET WISE
On Tuesday morning, Joe and I leave our home in Warwick to catch the train for London. Joe has a meeting with the consulting engineers working with his employers on a new project in Cambodia. Joe and the project the team are then travelling on to link up with their Korean partners in Seoul. The London engineers maintain a smart office in Fitzroy Square. It's not far from the Royal Society of Medicine where I am going but first I have plans to visit a rather swish leather tailors in Marylebone High Street, not far away!
We catch the 9.49 from Warwick and arrive in London for 11.30. Joe hails a taxi and we head off to a Venetian restaurant that Joe knows in Wigmore Street. He asks the taxi to take his luggage on to the office in Fitzroy Square so we don't have to worry about it.
Together, we enjoy a leisurely lunch. But then it's almost time for Joe's meeting. We stroll hand in hand, enjoying the closeness of each other's bodies and the warm and simple reassurance of holding hands.
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"Yes, I know you do," he replies, looking across at the office building. "The rest of the boys must have arrived." I am pleased about that. I don't want to have to share Joe with them while we try to enjoy our last moments before he has to go.
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As I walked away from the two corpses at my feet, I couldn’t help but sigh. This was already the third attempt at such a trick this week. I just wished that people would be innovative in their attempt to kill me. Sadly, that wasn’t to be. Everyone had more or less had the same trick up their sleeve. You would guess I would be tired of such tedious attempts at my life almost every other day but you would be very wrong. I loved it. The shot of adrenaline that burst through my veins when...
One afternoon Farah returning from school threw her school bag in a corner, "Oh God, I'm going to die." Maya, who was cleaning the room with Mala, asked, "Farah, is something the matter?" "Yes, since morning I'm feeling so horny. I've fingered myself four times in school," Farah said, "Still my choot is itching." "Go wash you choot with cold water," Maya suggested, "You'll feel better." "I have washed my choot so many times in school but it didn't help," Farah...
I spent a lot of time in Mr. Schwartz's firing range practicing a quick draw with my shoulder holster. He let me use his range because I bought a lot of ammunition from him. I have been at it for three weeks, and Mr. Schwartz said that I was the fastest he had ever seen at drawing a gun. That made me feel good, but I knew that there was surely somebody around who was faster than me. I worked on making up for that flaw with my accuracy. I got to the point that I could draw and hit my target...
You are being hailed and a woman's voice came on your com. "This is security control from Nova Titan. Identify yourself and your clearance code", she ask you. "My name is Eric Jaks. I'm a member of the International Space Bounty Hunter CORP. My badge number 3297B7. I'm bringing in a fugitive. My CC is W825T-71." You replied. "Please standby while we scan your ship and confirm your Clearance Code", she ordered you. "Our scanner showed only one life form on your ship, is...
Anna closed the door behind her as she entered her apartment after her daily ritual of going to visit the local bar for breakfast every morning. Life had finally gained some semblance of normalcy and routine once the whole affair of the Bounty Hunter was over. She thought that whole episode to be over as she had finally found closure. Of course, the Bounty Hunter knew her real name but she didn’t think he would bother with her. From what she had heard on the forums, he had his own share of...
Callie watched the countryside pass in a blur, the TGV, France’s high-speed train racing at over three hundred kilometers an hour. Across from her Hunter was absorbed in the laptop. “You promised to tell me what the microdot contained,” she reminded him. He shut the laptop, pushed it aside, leaned back, and looked out the window. “You’ve heard about the Israeli-Palestinian peace accord?” “Sure,” Callie nodded. Everyone knew about it; the single biggest achievement in the past fifty years,...
INTRODUCTIONIn the world around us there are those that will prey on the weaker, the unprepared, the vulnerable. In pursuit of their own desires or seeking to profit from the desires of others there are always those whose acts are hard for us to understand. Once more, it is October 2009. Angela is trying to balance her teaching responsibilities and research projects, spurred on by the Dean’s ambitions for the academic standing of the University; Joe McEwan is planning his trip to Cambodia in a...
Mirage waited, knowing that the buzz of the insanity was coming, that she'd just ruined Hunter's life. She kept her eyes tightly closed, her wrist still pressed against his face. "Mira?" His voice, still soft and completely sane had her opening her eyes and staring up at him in shock. "You're not..." She couldn't even finish the question. "You're..." "No, I'm not," he said, just as shocked as she was. He lifted his hand, his fingers trembling just a bit as he unfastened the...
"What the fuck is that?" Mira gasped. It was a continuous growl, one that sounded inhuman and hungry and twenty times as big as the biggest of the Zombie girls. Hunter leaned against the door as the heavy metal rattled as if something much bigger wanted to open the door and make their acquaintance. He could feel the power that leaked through the metal and the thoughts that tried hard to leach into his brain. He fought it, moving bare inches from the metal. When his skin no longer touched...
Hunter just stared down at her for a second. "Whoa, she's on a roll tonight." "Well, you know, I now have an idea why you can be so completely unbearable to be around sometimes." She giggled when Hunt made the sound of a rim shot. "You're getting Punny, Mira. Maybe it's time to get you out of the night air. I think it's affecting your thought processes." He rose and tugged her up, turning her to walk ahead of him back toward her house. They'd walked only a few steps before his...
The gun season for white-tail deer starts a week before Thanksgiving and even though ‘my’ woods are privately owned, hunters encroach on them from neighboring game lands. My grandfather's brother really owns the land, and he doesn't give a shit about hunters, so none of it is posted. When I hike into what I call ‘my’ cove during hunting season, I have to be careful or I could get shot. After what happened last year though, I’ve learned the risk can be worth it.My great-uncle owes 125 acres of...
Gay MaleKaren ran from the house to greet Mike when he pulled up in his bass boat at Sanjay’s dock. She was now thirteen years old and thoroughly Texan. She stood at the end of the dock waving to him and shouting, “Unk!” “Hello, Sweetie. How’s my favorite niece doing today?” Mike called back as he brought the boat up to the dock. “I’m fine,” Karen answered as she caught the rope he tossed to her. She tied the boat to the dock with practiced ease. She said, “Daddy will be here in a minute. He’s...
I had fifteen Summers, and had reached my full growth a span of seasons before. It was past time that my clan consider me Sree. I'd first spilled my seed on the ground during my twelfth Summer, and had, right after that, spent my half moon's time alone in the forest, in order to prove myself to my clan a Mek Hunter. In my clan, Mek means boy and Sree means man. For a Mek to get to be a Sree, there had to be unanimous agreement from the Sree hunters. At my last petition, I'd only received...
Co-written by: Mojavejoe420 and Melanieatplay "The Hunters" “And so, I decided not to wear a bra to Brooke’s birthday party. I didn’t know she was going to have a water balloon fight. I was just hoping to get Tommy Marston’s attention.” Mel rubbed her breasts as the night air breezed past us. I kept sneaking looks at her while trying not to crash the car, being that it was a beautifully restored 1967 Mercury Cougar (351 Windsor, naturally), and of course, it didn’t have airbags. So I...
Dad made it in twenty minutes. He came through the door. I was sitting in the living room watching as he came into the kitchen. "Where is he? You shouldn't have let a stranger into the house." "I spoke from the chair I was sitting in. "There is no one, Dad. I wanted to see you and I knew you wouldn't come home just to see me." "What in the hell do you want? I thought I'd seen the last of you. You can turn around and get out." "Does that hold for me too, Daddy? It has been three...
Bright light assaulted his senses almost as soon as he opened his eyes, forcing him to shut them once again, for fear of getting a migraine. He struggled to gather his bearings as he tried to recall where he was. He opened his eyes once again, slowly this time. Looking around, he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings, making him wary almost immediately. The room he was in resembled a hospital of the old world. He wasn’t aware that such a place existed anymore. Whatever this room was, it...
Mike and Cathy returned home from work to find Bob waiting outside for them to show up. Making the Marines guarding Mike a little nervous, Bob walked over to the car carrying a bottle of wine with him. Mike got out of the car and said, “Hello, Bob.” “Hello, Mike. I wanted to thank you for accepting our offer on your house,” Bob said. In a very natural reaction to being jerked around over the price of the house, Bob and Ellen had not been happy with Mike. Ellen had been getting angry at what...
Hunter's engaging smile was long gone before Dianna finished Mirage's story. A strange pang started in his chest, surprising him. Hearing of how Lineal and Lynette, Mirage's husband and daughter had been put to death was heartbreaking. He could almost feel their pain. The scorch of the whip was a terrible thing. He'd felt it once or twice in his own inhumanely long life. But know that Lineal had been forced to endure the bite until he'd mercifully died was almost more than he could...
Book Six: Heart's Longing Chapter Six: Bounty Hunter Surprise By mypenname3000 Copyright 2016 Note: Thanks to B0b for beta reading this. Lady Delilah – Black Glass Aerie, The Island of Birds The ladder creaked while the wind whipped at my long, red hair. It danced about my naked shoulders. Energy burned through my body from the alchemical drink Fredagest gave me. The gnome bounty hunter climbed above me, her small body navigating the ladder with ease. The sun rose, painting the...
The hallway was empty. It wasn't just empty, it seemed down right desolate. Angel spun down the hall, walking carefully and covering every angle that she could. This was the third hallway that they had cleared. Another twenty ASP workers were now on their way to Conference room eight. They'd run into Kit and her crew, sending them down to keep an eye on the survivors. With Tinman there, they had one agent that was bite proof. Mage had shed a little bit of light into the zombie girls,...
Anna woke up groggily, the effect of last night’s slosh fest still weighing heavily on her. Her unwillingness to get up from the couch was only aided by the fact that her head was throbbing, almost as if all the fluid in her brain was dying to burst out. Anna tried to gather her bearings as best as she could, wondering how she would go through the rest of her day. The rest of her life even. Any purpose she had in life seemed to have been lost. She got up from the couch, stumbling over the...
Anna's things were still here, where was she? I heard a strangled moan from the bedroom. Her nude form was on the floor writhing. She was trying to scream but couldn't draw in enough air to do so. Every tortured inhalation was cut short by a gasp of pain. A trail of water led from the shower she had loved so much. As quickly as I could, I entered her mind and stopped the pain. I don't think there was an unbroken bone in her body and what else he had done to her was anybodies guess –...
In the dim room, lit only by a pair of candles in the candlestick, the sound of a pen scratching on paper was clearly heard. Only occasionally, interrupting to update the ink, the clerk continued to work tirelessly. Neither the semi-darkness nor the storming sea outside the window did not distract the young lady from the business, it was clearly something important. The light from the candles was only enough to illuminate half of the table, but the moonlight seeping in through the window made...
FantasyThe Netherworlds. There are a countless number of them in the universe, all with their own societies and customs. Why, nearly anything you could think of could be represented in the form of one of these demonic worlds. A world that has been converted into a gigantic spa resort run by slimes that poison their customers instead of detoxifying them? Why not? A planet-sized brothel that contains only prinny sex workers? Go for it. How about a world that is made entirely of pastries, populated by...
It had been twelve years since I had been in this town. At that time Sis and I had been living with Dad and Mom on a little side street in West Brattleboro. Today, I had just come over Route 9 from Albany, NY. I was here for a purpose. When last here, we were breaking up our home and Dad said we couldn't take anything with us. Now I was in the state to look at the campus of the Vermont Law School. That was my purpose, but I remembered my childhood and the mother that my sister and I had...
Call me Hunter. Just ... Hunter. Don't try tacking on some stupid 'Mr.' or 'Agent' or any of that shit. Hunter. It's who I am and it's what I am. Sure, the official designation is 'Tracker', but, to my mind, a tracker simply follows things. A hunter, on the other hand, follows things, then kills them. They use me, or one of the others like me, when some deviant with paranormal abilities has crossed the magic line between salvageable and disposable. Trackers, with our chemically...
Callie was still sound asleep, gone to the world, when I rose at five-thirty. In the kitchen, with a mug of freshly brewed coffee, I got to work. Phone calls to acquaintances led me to Paula Tasker, only twenty-five, yet her reputation was already widely respected. I told her what I was looking for. We bargained over the fee. She accepted. Calls to acquaintances in Switzerland solved another part of my plan. And, at six-thirty in the morning, Friday, I called the White House. Lucas Smith...
Callie studied their stateroom with pleasure. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was neat, clean, functional, and spacious with several portholes giving a view of the sea. The bathroom was spotless, towels clean. While unpacking, she smiled to herself. This was so unexpected. The Canada Senator was a working container ship. At first glance when they’d arrived at the commercial docks, she’d seen a rusting blue ship piled high with different colored containers; so high she wondered how the ship...
CALLIE YAWNED AND STRETCHED. Her body felt bruised and sore like she did after a long, hard dance workout. She smiled. She had danced, just a different dance - the dance of love with Hunter. Turning her head, she saw the bed was empty. A momentary spike of fear passed when she saw him sipping coffee at the small table by the porthole. Why didn’t he ever sleep in? Her bladder called. A flush of warm embarrassment hit when she felt a damp spot underneath her. She’d leaked! Dashing to the...
I was raised on a feral wilderness planet. My father was a hunter, trapping and killing for their meat the ferocious animals that dominated the planet. My mother ran a smallholding to raise grain, fruit and vegetables, heavily protected by fortifications and electric fences. My sisters showed no aptitude or inclination for hunting but readily took to helping my mother expand her smallholding. I took to hunting like a duck to water, surpassing my father's skills by my mid-teens. I could walk...