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Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 5, ch 10, Oct 21, 20
Posted: Sat Oct 29, 2011 12:05 pm
Max and The lieutenant returned to the office in the dark. Max firmly held the arm of the handcuffed elfin like creature they had found. Except for the first outburst when she declared him her king, the woman had been silent. Max, more in frustration than any malice, roughly pushed her into a chair in the interrogation room. The creature stumbled, unable to balance her self while still cuffed.
“Who are you?” Max asked gruffly.
The woman, because that is what she had to be, maybe alien, or maybe something else, looked up at Max with watery eyes. “I am the poison left to kill you, my Lord,” she whispered.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” Max asked again.
“The only logical thing, my Lord. Kill me.” She stated simply.
“If you are the poison sent to kill me, why then do you say I should kill you?” Max inquired.
“I am a poison that has lost her sting, my Lord,” she responded. If you were to set me free, that is what would happen to me. Probably within the day, I would taste my death” she continued.
“We are talking a lot of poetry and allegory here. Straight talk. Tell me what you are,” Max ordered.
“Like you, my Lord, I am a clone. I was made from material from the royal family mixed with human DNA. My alien donor was purchased by the queen mother as a mate to control your donor,” she stated. “ At the last minute, the queen mother decided that I wasn’t high enough in my birth. The old woman did not send me with your ship,” she continued.
“If you are anything like your donor, how could a little thing like you control me? I assume that I take after my donor as the king,” Max said.
Liz, the lieutenant, had about had it with all this my Lord and king crap. She was still getting over having aliens, on her team. She had been in a battle, she had a burning wound, that probably would scar her forever, to testify about that. Now, this creature was stating that she could control the detective who Liz had been working with. Liz didn’t want to miss any of this SciFy situation she found her self thrust into, but the pain was getting bad. “Max, can we put her into a holding room for a while. How hard will she be to secure? Max, I wouldn’t say anything during your interrogation, but my face hurts something terrible,” Liz said.
Max turned and for the first time he looked at his lieutenant. “Oh my god, Lieutenant. I never realized you had been wounded. Sit down! Let me look at your face,” he commanded.
Liz stood. “Naw, Max, I don’t need any of you alien magic. I can go to the emergency room like any good human,” Liz said.
“No, Liz,” Max said with authority. “Human doctors are for human wounds. You were hurt by an alien power blast. A human doctor would leave a nasty scar.”
“Lady, listen to him. I feel you do not like references to him being the king. It has always been said that the hands of the king are hands of healing. There are even cross overs into your literature. In affairs of aliens, always give way for the king. You will feel the sword of the king soon enough,” the small woman said.
Liz was angry that she felt she was being thwarted, her authority being questioned. It was almost as if somewhere she was faced with someone greater than a lieutenant. Max had turned one of the chairs away from the interrogation table. He gently held her arm as he guided her to the chair. “Liz, look at me. I have to see into your eyes,” he commanded.
For seconds, Liz felt dizzy, confused, euphoric, all words to describe badly what was going through her mind. She hallucinated as she saw two small children walk away from a machine, lost some where in the desert and walk toward head lights of a car. In the dark, she saw the outline of a third child. He was hiding afraid to come out and seek aid. As the dreams dissolved into reality, Liz realized an intense itching of her face. She started to respond to that when Max caught her hand. It will go away in a moment. You will need some make up to hide the silver handprint. It won’t last long,” Max informed his patient.
While, Liz hastened to the lady’s room to check on her face, Max again returned his attention to his charge. “You were telling me how you control me,” he told her.
“You are the king. When my donor first faced you back on our home world, you hadn’t given your symbol of authority to anyone. The queen mother was assured that you would give it to me. Know for sure, that if you hadn’t already given the symbol to another, I would have had you groveling at my feet back there in the alley. Even as unwashed as I am now, if I had taken the royal seal from you, you would be my slave. The minions of the despot missed their timing. You have already given the seal to another, so nothing I do any longer matters,” she said.
Max was frowning when Liz returned. “I suppose that giving my seal is like being engaged. I don’t even have a girlfriend,” he stated.
The tiny woman sadly said. “Neither you nor she knows, but the decision has already been made. You both have to discover it for your selves.” After that she was silent.
Max picked up the phone, then looking at Liz, he said, “With your permission, lieutenant, I need to call Isabel. I don’t have any idea of how to proceed.”
Three children had been abandoned in the desert. Two had been given the benefits of a wealthy family and education. One had been abandoned again, after he had been found. Michael was finally not alone, but within the bureaucracy of a vast uncontrollable system where, many of their charges would fine holes in which to hide. This did foster, in Foster Care the training of avoiding or disguising things, which you did not want to share. Michael now, as a cop, knew very well the refuges of those who did not want to divulge the truth.
It is not known if the modern youth even know the words, “nobel responsibility.” They were coined for another generation and culture. When the young Turks at the start of the 20th century again discovered them they maybe clarified them to mean that if fate is kind to you in the material comforts you inherit, you owe society to not sit on your collective ass, but you should spend these gifts to improve society. Max had received from his adoptive parents the best of everything. He had the choice to either sit back enjoy the fruits of wealth or he could take up a vocation that he believed would improve society. Max did not need money. He worked with the police because he wanted to support a cause. He was unlike his brother in species, Michael, who actually did join the police because he needed to make a living.
The third child, Isabel, did stay with the jet set, joining those with wealth and power. She did continue to oversee the influx of true aliens into the world population, at least the true aliens she knew about. She did support charities that unknowingly supported the settlement of the real aliens. Even though she was seen as one of the beautiful people, she also, kept her feet firmly on problems of aliens with their hosts. Now, Max had asked her to leave her rich life style, because he needed help. Her king had requested her presence. Isabel still had a little trouble about that King stuff. There was an alien who was a serial murder or at least promoting serial murder. This could be bad for all of them.
“Yes, Max, I was expecting your call,” Isabel answered.
“Izzy, what do you remember about our pod chamber?” Max started out asking.
“Not much. Why?” Isabel asked.
“Was there more space for another pod?” Max asked.
I think there might have been. I do remember that there were only three pods there,” Isabel responded.
“I think there might have been room for a fourth pod. I think for some reason the fourth one was canceled, but maybe sent later. I think I have found a fourth clone. She was with the group of aliens who had been with Nicholas all day. She is at the office. Could you come down? Lieutenant, Parker is here with me. We were in a firefight this evening.
Being in a firefight, Lieutenant Parker would now, know what it was to fight beside an alien. Isabel needed to see how the lieutenant was handling this information. This was why the silver handprint killer had to be stopped. This killer generated too much attention to the normally quiet life style of most of the alien population.
When Isabel arrived at the police department, she faced only a desk sergeant. He made a quick call to the detective offices. His call was picked up by Lieutenant Parker. With a nod to Isabel he asked, “Do you know the way?”
Isabel awarded him with her smile and turned toward the elevator. Of course, Isabel knew the way. The only reason she appeared sometimes to be helpless was when it was to her advantage. For reasons, she hadn’t completely worked out, she wanted to cultivate the friendship of Lieutenant Whitman. He wasn’t, in anyway, like any of her other lovers. In fact, she would have to be careful as her free life style might turn him away. She wasn’t sure how his Methodist upbringing would view the life she had been living. Her instincts all told her that Alex would be a, death till we part, kind of guy. Was that what she wanted now, at this point in life?
The large office was an empty room, where the detective desks were located. It was lit only by nightlights. Across the room, she saw the brightly lit office of Lieutenant Parker. As Isabel entered, she saw the lieutenant sitting at her desk. In front of Liz, on her desk, was her department issued Glock. Max was sitting on the top of his desk and sitting on a folding chair, Isabel saw a tiny woman. Well, maybe that was unfair. The woman was about the same size as Little Napoleon. The woman had yellow blonde hair that hung in tangles. She was wearing a thin, one piece dress that was filthy. Looking closely, Isabel couldn’t tell if she was wearing anything under the dress. Her hands and face were likewise, filthy. Isabel couldn’t tell when the woman last had indulged in a bath. At Isabel’s appearance, the woman shifted in her chair. Izzy saw out of the corner of her eyes,m the lieutenant reach for her Glock at this movement.
“Who and or what are you?” was the first statement out of Isabel’s mouth.
“I am the fourth clone. The queen mother, at the last moment decided not to include me with the rest of you,” she stated.
“Then, how did you get here?” Isabel crossly asked. Isabel did not know what to make of this being. There were many things done and created in those last minutes of the royal empire.
“The queen mother intended to destroy me. The palace fell before she accomplished this. I was included in a later migration along with the being I think you call Nicholas,” the captive stated.
“What do we call you?” Isabel inquired. It was awkward to refer to this being as the woman, the captive or even the enemy. There was a lot more here than seen at first.
“My embedded memory said that my donor’s name was Ava. Before she changed her mind, the queen mother had instilled the name of Teresa or Tess as an Earth name. Nicholas was never much into names. When he wanted my attention, he bent my mind his way and I answered him.” The woman, or Tess or what ever, did not seem to be hiding any answers. None of them could be sure what she said was truth.
“Well, Tess, what is your purpose here? Isabel asked. “I am sure that if she abandoned you originally, your purpose has changed from the time of the queen mother.”
“As I told the king, my purpose, from Kivar was to subvert the king and bring him over to the support of Kivar. Kivar would reunite the Antarians. He would use the Antarian forces already on Earth as the spearhead of an invasion. With the king already having given his seal to another this is no longer possible. I no longer have any purpose to Nicholas or to Kivar. What the queen mother intended has been lost as was her reasons for abandoning me,” Tess informed them.
This talk of kings, queens and politics was above the interest of a detective. Liz had a homicide to solve. Her only interest was in what she could learn about Nicholas, because he was highly involved in several murders. Liz did not know where Michael fit into things. It seemed that Max was involved in some political struggle. Isabel, his proclaimed sister, was involved also. The woman, Tess, or rather the alien, Tess, only had guilt by association. She hadn’t shot at anyone, she didn’t appear able to have killed anyone, but these aliens were still confusing to the Lieutenant. “What do we do with her?” Liz asked.
“She suggested herself, that we kill her,” Max reminded Liz.
“No, we don’t do things like that here!” Liz expounded.
“She is an alien, she is not a citizen of Earth,” Max stated.
“If she is a fucking alien, then get her a green card, put her in a taxi and tax the shit out of her. We don’t kill folks in cold blood, in these parts of the west!” Liz stated forcefully, imitating dialog she was sure was from a movie somewhere. “We should put her in a cell until morning.” Liz continued. “List her as a person of interest in these murders.”
Liz was surprised. Both Max and Isabel shook their heads. “Lieutenant, you can’t jail aliens,” Max stated.
“Why?” demanded Liz.
“They walk through the doors. They use their powers,” answered Isabel.
The lieutenant’s headache was getting worse. The talk of alien politics was bad enough, now the fact that aliens could not be safely detained was another piercing needle in her brain. Even if the body blew away leaving no evidence, Liz wasn’t allowing any executions within her squad.
“I will take her, keep her safe and be responsible for her return,” Isabel stated. That was the best Liz was going to get this night. She holstered her Glock and they all left, turning out the lights in her office.
May i suggest for Halloween: Ninth Floor
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 5, ch 11, Oct 29, 20
Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2011 11:38 am
Remember the aliens have no knowledge of the reasons of the queen mother. They continually change why they think Tess was removed from the launch. Notice that Isabel is looking for new reasons for her actions. I tried to make the characters dynamic always changing as there informations changes. Notice that their knowledge of Nicholas is based on legend, gossip and conjecture.
Sitting at the table, holding hands as Maria told of her experience with Isabel, Michael was confused at what she wanted. When she finished, with the promise to shoot Nicholas if she had a chance, Maria did not release his hands. After several minutes, to Michael it seemed to be an eternity, Maria spoke up. “Michael, this isn’t what I wanted and I don’t think it is exactly what you wanted either, but take me to bed. I want to feel clean. Nicholas tried to make me feel dirty at every thing I ever did. I don’t want him to define me. I want to feel safe in someone’s arms, someone I can trust. Who better than my partner can I believe in? Someone I believe will always have my back. The one who, now, I want to have my body,” Maria softly stated.
Maria did not dance for Michael, as she intended. She went into the bathroom and when she came out, she threw all her clothes into the laundry. The naked Maria, climbed under the sheets of her bed and reclining on her side, she looked up at Michael. Michael’s holstered firearm was hanging from a peg, beside hers. Michael was no artist in undressing. He faced Maria as he removed his shirt and pants. He simply left them where they fell, on the floor. He kicked off his shoes and pulled down his boxers. Michael was surprised that his manhood didn’t show more arousal. As he sat on her bed, pulling off his socks, he worried, was something wrong? Off and on he had thought of Maria in the sack ever since they had been sent to Little Napoleon’s team. At this time, Michael was not lusting to get a woman “in the sack.” His partner needed comfort. Maria needed to know that he found her a beautiful woman and he desired her, to share bodies with him and both of them “kiss and make it better.” They had three days. With any luck, sometime during this time she would dance for him and he would explore every part of her body. Now pressing his manhood against her body and feeling it gently swell, Michael was in every way possible, making tender love to a woman who needed him.
All of the way back to her hotel room, Isabel found Tess quiet. She obediently did as Isabel ordered. Isabel did not forget for a minute that this being represented the enemy. One false move and Isabel would blast her into oblivion. Max could figure out how to explain that to the Lieutenant. “Does Nicholas know that you are with us?” Isabel asked.
“Yes, that is why he brought me. I was supposed to be taken. I don’t think he knows yet that he was too late for me to take control of the king. He doesn’t expect this control to be some sudden change. If it was, all of you would take up powers against the king and me. He won’t look for me until he realizes that I was too late. When he does realize that I no longer can further his plans, he will look for me, only to kill me as a nuisance,” Tess related.
Isabel knew that she was dealing with a cultural problem, but the lack of emotion as Tess described her probable execution was disturbing to Isabel. Even a criminal facing their execution, should want to fight back someway. That was just human nature, self preservation. Tess wasn’t human, but it was more than that. Max, Michael and Isabel were not human either, but rest assured that they would fight to the last to preserve their lives. No, Tess hadn’t been allowed to develop a self. The queen mother had caused Tess to be created and for her own reasons, she had scrubbed Tess from the original launching of the clones. Kivar and Nicholas had found her and kept her as a final weapon against the Royals. Isabel understood, by her conversation with Tess, that she had been educated, no doubt by machine. Tess hadn’t been allowed the concept of her self to be formed. Maybe, Isabel could correct that. Tess was a weapon; maybe, Isabel could make her a weapon for them. Maybe, Isabel could give Tess motive to join the Antarians and find a place for herself.
For a while, their relationship would be austere. Isabel hoped it would improve later. “Take off your clothes,” Isabel ordered.
As Isabel surmised, Tess wore nothing under the dress. The dress had been only for convenience as Nicholas transported her about town. Maybe, it was more than that. Nicholas knew little about the human side of the clones. Maybe, he felt that her minimal clothing would have stirred some lust in Max. Isabel ordered, “Turn around.” Like Isabel’s own body it was flawless. Caring for her body had been included in her memory. “Do you know how to shower, how to wash your hair?” Isabel questioned. At Tess’s simple nod, Isabel thought, did Nicholas have some reason presenting her to Max in this filthy condition? Was this to inspire sympathy? Isabel led Tess to the bathroom, she pointed to the toiletries and facilities and closed the door.
Max always complained at the amount of luggage that Isabel traveled with. Well, now she could find clothes which could be altered to fit this woman. Isabel laid out a nightgown. There was nothing wrong with it except that with Isabel’s choice of a tan complexion, she now preferred to wear light colors. Tess’s complexion, once scrubbed, was almost pale. The deep blue would fit Tess well. When Tess emerged from the shower, Isabel gave her the gown and motioned for her to sit. Isabel had no idea of how long it had been since Tess had cared for her hair. It took sometime for Isabel to get it untangled even with alien powers.
The Isabel who undertook the care of the new alien clone, was much different from the woman who faked Grant Sorenson into publically cheating on her so she could dump him with the appearance that it was all his fault. Helping Tess was almost like taking on the entire education of a child. The biggest difference was Isabel didn’t have 20 years to accomplish this. Tess’s programing would allow her to be used, but it did not have any room for her to find joy in any relationship. The queen mother had intended that the original Ava seduce her son, Zan, and taking his royal sign, to hold him at her side. The queen mother controlling Ava would also control Zan. It is possible that the queen mother saw the impossibility of controlling the Tess clone at such a distance. Maybe, she was looking for another who would hold Zan to the queen mother’s wishes even without the old lady’s presence. Maybe, she intended to change the programing of the Ava clone and was interrupted.
Nicholas’s discovery, was quickly seen by Kivar. If Nicholas instituted himself in the queen mother’s place and kept the clone near him. It would be Nicholas who controlled the clone of Zan, now known as Maxwell Evans. In her way, Isabel was embarrassed and ashamed at how easily she duped the lover Grant Sorenson. Her only excuse was that none of her lovers, to this date, meant anything to her. If this Lieutenant Alex Whitman worked out, Isabel would never manipulate him like she had done the others. Isabel would only manipulate her self to be what she sensed was wanted by Alex as a lover. In that way she would be the perfect lover in his life. Isabel did know that Alex hadn’t had that many lovers to date. She didn’t have much competition.
Isabel knew that Tess would have to find a soul mate of her own. It wouldn’t do for Isabel to attempt to choose this soul mate herself. That choice must be made by Tess. For Tess, the desire to control men was connected to, first the queen mother who was no longer alive and then, to Nicholas and in both times, it was directed toward the Zan clone, Max. The fortune of the granolith had already cast Max’s desire to an unknown woman. This left Tess as an empty vessal. Isabel’s first task was to build in Tess a feeling of self worth. Isabel wondered from where had the old lady purchased the original Ava? Had Ava been raised as a tool of royal intrigue? Isabel seeing that now her fortunes were becoming even closer tied to the southwest and the city Metropolis, would soon have to get an apartment. She needed more privacy.
Little Napoleon had a full day. She had stood toe to toe with Evans as they fought an enemy she wouldn’t have believed existed last week. She had been badly burned and then healed by almost the same magic that had been used to commit the now, three murders. At home, she removed her makeup and looking at her face in the mirror, she saw the same bright silver handprint she had seen on the bodies. It was bright silver now, but both Max and Isabel had assured her that it would be lighter tomorrow and within a few days be completely gone. The use of makeup was to forestall any questions that might prove to be difficult to answer. Just when she thought she had cataloged Max as a poor little rich boy playing cops, she found out he was an alien. As she had convinced herself that his type of woman would be Isabel, she found that Isabel was his sister. As she decided that Max was an efficient detective working with her squad, she found that with his people, what ever that meant, Max was a king. She hadn’t even begun to think about Michael. She wondered how Maria was taking what they had been learning. Maria had undergone a severe trauma today. The last Liz had seen of Maria was riding off with Michael, having been told to take the rest of the week off and rest.
Max lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had kicked off his shoes, but he hadn’t removed anything else except for his suit coat, which he had tossed carelessly on the floor. The murders were disturbing the peace of the illegal alien emigration. Like any illegal immigrant, they depended on not being noticed. Given a few generations, they would be completely humanized with just a couple special powers. For himself, Max had given up claim to any throne. The queen mother did not understand anything except the monarchy that she had lived in all her life. The revolution was going badly for the royal family. The queen mother could only now hope for her people. She had cloned her own son and given him memories necessary to govern. She had included a bodyguard and his sister as an advisor. That snippet she had purchased as a consort for her son was a terrible disappointment. She ordered the fourth pod to be withdrawn from the ship. She would destroy the embryonic concoction tomorrow. The queen mother never saw the sunrise. As the red star streamed into her window, she lay on her royal bed, her throat slit and her body despoiled. It was the same for the rest of the family including the little consort. Someone had placed this information in Max’s pod before it was launched. It hadn’t made sense before, but with each revelation, Max, understood more about the last history of the Antarian royalty.
The fourth pod had been sent to Kivar for evaluation.
Michael lay holding the body of Maria. He wasn’t sure what had happened last night. Maria had cried and Michael pulled back, but Maria only held him tighter. As they made love, she was still sobbing. This confused Michael. As they repeated the act through the night, her sobbing changed. Maria finally whispered, “Michael, I am now crying because I am so happy.”
To use the bathroom and to get a glass of water was about the only thing that pulled them out of bed until midday. Maria’s dress for the day was only a long tee shirt she had acquired from somewhere. Michael donned his boxers. They were the same ones from yesterday and that bothered him a little. Sometime today, Michael intended to drive over to his apartment and get some fresh clothes.
Michael found Maria considerably more arousing than he had last night. Flitting about the apartment, wearing only the long tee shirt, the curve of her butt making brief appearances below the shirt, stirred him greatly. They ate brunch and lay down, their bodies resting against each other most of the afternoon. Finally, Maria stood up and said she was going to get dressed. Michael heard her in the shower and when she finally emerged, she was smelling sweet and almost looking like her old self. Michael only had his dirty clothes so he felt anything, but sweet. They drove over to his place and Maria sat in his living room as Michael busied himself in the shower and in packing fresh clothes. The other time she had been there, she had waited in the car working on reports until Michael showered and returned.
Studying a man’s living room while he is somewhere else and not limiting your interpretation, tells a lot about him, especially if the student is a detective. Maria saw the collection of music. She guessed they were good, but they were not the selections she would listen to. A couple issues of “Cops” magazine were laying on the table and a couple of books of state law. There was a big screen TV, at least it would have been big screen when it was bought, somewhere about twenty years ago. On the same table as the TV was a VHS tape player. Maria looked, but nowhere did she see anything of a more modern DVD player. This was accented by a stack of VHS tapes, labeled NHL or National Hockey League. Maria guessed that Michael was into the minimum of entertainment.
Maria stood and wandered to the part of the room given over to a kitchen. There was a set of shelves against the wall. One entire shelf was full of Tabasco sauce. Maria grew up in the southwest. She had been given chili along with her Gerber’s. For many southwesterners, the slightly vinegary flavor of Tabasco was not appreciated. At least not to the extent of several cases of the stuff already set out on the shelves. There was a complete shelf full of “EasyMac” dinners. Apparently Michael wasn’t into gourmet eating.
There was a closed pantry. Maria opened the door and found the small closet stacked with cases of Snapple. Apparently, consumed only one flavor at time. Maria could imagine that if you had the hankering for a flavor at the bottom of the stack, you would either take all the cases out or just wait until that case came up in its turn.
Maria opened the refrigerator and sure enough, one shelf was full of cold Snapple. The crisper drawers, where fresh vegetables would be kept, were pristine. Michael probably hadn’t ever opened them. On the wall, in a string bag she saw several large vidalia onions. Maria shuddered. The vision of fried onions lying on the Mac and Cheese shook her. The idea of the onions being fresh and just sliced on same dinner was too hard to contemplate.
Contemplating all the onions he ate, Maria decided that the first gift she was going to get for him would be mouthwash, obviously in a case lot. When Michael came out of his bedroom, he placed his duffel bag on the table and as he was worrying the zipper shut, Maria saw two changes of Levies, several flannel shirts and rolled up in balls, there were sets of underwear and socks. At one level, Michael was a simple man. These were not alien traits. No way could Maria imagine either Max nor Isabel chewing on cheeseburgers.
Hand in hand, they returned to Maria’s apartment.
The Evans family, her adoptive parents had told Isabel about the difficulty they had when they first found the two children. All the house breaking, which is absorbed by children observing their parents as babies, had to be taught. Tess functionally was perfection. What was missing was something that looked for passion, something that stood for selfpride. Isabel was sure that if she ordered, Tess to climb into some man’s bed she would do it without question. Isabel thought, Tess would, also, be a lousy fuck since she would not return any feeling, nor find any feelings for herself. Isabel again wondered about the fault the queen mother and in those who had raised original donor.
In her past lovers, Isabel had known several designers. She started to converse with this woman about how she looked and about impressions she should attempt to make on others. Isabel quickly ran into her first discovery, Tess’s mental powers far surpassed those of Isabel. Was this what the queen mother had wanted in her purchase? Isabel set up game rules. Rule number one: only use your mental powers if everything else fails, supplement to rule number one, learn the everything else. Rule number two, make the changes to one’s self. Be everything your target wants.
Imprinting things like style and norms of beauty were surprisingly easy on Tess. This part of her character had never been opened. It was a fresh, virgin book to be recorded upon. Starting with catalogs from Fredrick’s of Hollywood and Victoria’s Secrets then, ending with a trip to a high fashion store, Tess was a quick study.
Isabel had hoped that when Tess became more comfortable with her, she would open up on more knowledge about Nicholas. Isabel later learned that Tess didn’t know anymore. She had been a tool to Nicholas, kept in a drawer. She knew only what he had told her about seducing the king. Uncovering what Nicholas had taught or rather programed in her about what she was to do to the king would be a challenge for Isabel. Deep down in Isabel’s mind was developing a feeling. This clone was little different from the three of them who had been sent to Earth. What had the queen mother’s intentions been? Isabel and Max had strong ties to their adoptive parents. Isabel wondered what she felt to that cold calculating person long dead and so very far away. The project that the queen mother was working on took precedence over everything else. Her own two children were needed to complete the project. Instead of fleeing and seeking asylum with one of the Royal splinter groups still fighting, the queen mother chose to stay in the palace and continue the project of sending loyal, royal Antarians to Earth. There, they would be ruled by the clones of her children. She was sure that the soldier who she sent would offer protection as they set up the new monarchy. Then at the last moment, the clone of the mate she had chosen for her son was withdrawn.
For a while, Isabel would keep Tess as a personal secretary. In this capacity, Isabel, would attempt to fill in the humanity that Tess had missed. Isabel had gained knowledge about humans by licentious experimentations. Isabel didn’t feel she had time to offer this path to Tess. Now that it was over, Isabel wasn’t sure that it had been the best path anyway. Part of Tess’s training was to share the adventures Isabel had already experienced.
The flaming man case had been a no brainer compared to what she had with the silver handprint. It had taken several months for Parker and DeLuca to finally get what they believed to be the truth about Freeky Freddie. Now, Parker had two of Lieutenant Whitman’s best. They even turned out to be aliens of the same species, which every piece of evidence Parker’s team had found were probably responsible for the murders.
It is different, but how should Max care for Liz when he is light years away. The Regent
may not be the best solution, but it is a solution. The more i worked on the story the more I saw the pain it caused in all parties. Now the children are beginning to question the make up of their family. kr
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 6, ch 12, Nov 5, 201
Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 1:14 pm
begonia9598 Tess was always such a blank slate. No one ever developed her character in the series. They accused her of things, but little was ever said as to why she was with the other 3. The Liz I write was seen in the first season of the show when her father allowed her to make out the schedule.
Keepsmiling7 Three undeveloped children were sent far, far away. It made sense to me that history would be sent with them. They had to have adult supervision, but the accident changed that.
mary mary Isabel will try to give Tess benefit of what she had learned. Isabel as she sets her self for Alex begins to question some of her original actions. Why Alex you might ask? Max and Michael work for the police so, Isabel looks that direction for her future.
Maria and Michael were back at work. Liz knew that she would have to wait until they had a moment alone to debrief Maria about the weekend. Maria was back to her bubbling personality. Outwardly, there was no scar left from her ordeal. Even before she heard M&M details, Liz did want to understand better how Maria had been effected by Nicholas. From what Liz had seen last week, both Maria and Michael had suffered. Michael and Max were back together, searching the back streets for any sign of Nicholas. Liz was hoping for some girl time with Maria. No such luck. True, Jack Towers had bonded out. He had lawyered up and the lawyer had gotten him released about midnight as Liz had figured. George Gost was a lawyer who the police always said, “If Gost is defending him, the perp is guilty as hell.” Gost wouldn’t know how to represent an innocent client. The lieutenant had sent through lawyer Gost, a message for Jack Tower to be in her office this morning. She, also, had sent out a pickup order for Jennifer Napolitano.
“Lieutenant Parker, we are here as per your orders. I want to register strongly my protest. My client has nothing to say. If you have charges, other than the simple trespassing charge, which I am sure my client can clear up, then make it. If not, let us go home,” George ought to just record these speeches. Street cops had labeled these speeches as, “I want ta go home,” speech or “My client is innocent speech,” as well as others. As far as they were concerned, George’s client could have been in a gunfight in front of news cameras and George would have given the same speech, “My client is innocent. He has no idea of what the police department is talking about.”
Liz and Maria were both in the interrogation room. Liz had a fleeting thought, about how would George have reacted to the dog and pony show that Evans and Guerin would have been likely to produce. “Mr. Gost, that is a good place for us to start. Produce the owner of that house and let him state he gave permission for Jack Towers to have been there with a minor.”
Both Gost and Jack jumped at the word ‘minor.’ “Wait a minute, Mr. Towers met Miss Napolitano in a college class. He had assumed that she was over 18,” Gost practically shouted.
Liz put her hand on George’s and said calmly, “George, we are not vice. Right now, I don’t care whether or not he is fucking a kindergartener. I am working homicide. The man who gave Mr. Towers the key is a person of interest in that homicide.”
George Gost was worried. This was a hazard with the sort of personnel he represented. Crooks lied and the type of crooks, George dealt with lied even more. “I need some time with my client,” George stated.
“Take all the time you need, counselor. As soon as her father arrives, I need to spend some time talking to Jennifer Napolitano,” Liz said as she picked up her things and left the room.
As soon as Liz had left the room, Jack turned to his lawyer. “Just get me out of here,” he pleaded. Jack Towers was what Liz would have called Max if she had known him outside the department. He was truly a poor little rich boy. His father’s power and money had gotten him out of most anything. His father laughed when he heard about his latest escapades, not knowing that Frankie Napolitano was not one of those things papa Towers would be able to handle.
In the Alpha Kappa Gama frat house, Jack Towers was just one of many poor little rich boys, many of whom were a lot better at taking care of themselves than Jack. In a room not even visited by their housemother, they had a chart with several different girls’ names on it. Beside each name were scores in difficulty to make, experience and then, a place for each name of the boy claiming to have made her. Not too much different from the scorebook in his high school boy’s gym class. Not many names were in the row headed by Jennifer Napolitano. There was a caution written beside her name. “Father member of the mob,” that was enough to make most young men seek scores elsewhere.
The truth about Frankie Napolitano was known only by his wife and a few of his trusted employees. Even his kids thought he was a mobster. Frankie Napolitano had a good business importing canned olives, olive oil and a line of Italian spices. The Feds had made headlines when they investigated the Napolitano family. Frankie had resisted when they put the cuffs on him. On the way to the courthouse, according to the Feds, he tried to escape twice. They beat the shit out of him. This all made headlines. The only one to believe in Frankie was his newly wedded wife. She never could rationalize Frankie being that kind of person. When the judge heard all the charges and saw the evidence, including the fact that one of the men transporting Frankie Napolitano, was taking anger management classes, he dismissed everything. No apology, no headline, some of the real mobsters believed that Frankie was a force to be reckoned with. Frankie couldn’t convince people otherwise, so he hired two of his wife’s cousins as bodyguards and to the public he was a power. To the business world, Frankie imported and sold some of the best olive oil in the business. To Jack Towers, he was the father of the under-aged girl he had just screwed. And, if Frankie questioned closely, he would find out that Jack’s actions were for a fraternity score card.
Michael and Max were scouring the bottom feeders of humanity along with intense talks with the alien community. James Karlson was a cab driver. When he was deposited in the desert of New Mexico, Karlson spent the mandatory time at an alien half-way house. Starting with Sesame Street and including the news channels along with all the romance channels. The creature who eventually would take on the name of James Karlson, perfected being a human being. Somewhere in one of the cop shows, he heard that aliens always became taxi drivers. This was fine with him. He had been the equivalent of a finance minister back on Antar. If driving a taxi was the way aliens became citizens, he was all for it. What he learned while driving a taxi was a master’s degree in humanity. Soon even human financers learned of his uncanny ability to predict the stock market. He became a popular driver and the acquaintances he made led him into comfortable wealth. He bought the cab company now called, “Out of This World Travel.”
“James, this could be big,” Max related.
“Do you think it is one of us or do you think it is as they say, a ringer sent by Kivar?” James asked.
“If too many humans find out about this, then they could have what the humans call a witch hunt. We shouldn’t care which group he belongs to, he can still attract unwanted attention. If I understand their history, many innocents get hurt searching for the few guilty,” Max explained. Then, he continued, “Now we have a fourth clone.”
“Yes, we knew of her on Antar. Just before the collapse of the royal power, the queen mother took a woman from an outside kingdom as a mate for her son, your clone donor. It was rumored that she paid dearly for a creature with her powers. She wanted someone who could control the heir apparent, and who could also be controlled by herself, the queen mother. Political power for a queen mother was always curtailed, but if she controlled the heir by controlling his mate, her power would become unlimited. We were later informed, as we progressed to Earth that she had sent clones of her family to set up a ruling class for us. Meeting you and the other two clones, we found that you had already embraced democracy. From there, we proceeded to integrate into different countries, cultures and governments. The things of Antar were behind us. Now, I ask, who and what is this fourth clone? Are we going to have fight Antar, all over again?” James inquired. James Karlson was now a business man. He owned a taxi business, he was highly invested in the Earth world stock market. He was far from the young man who took up his sword to defend the royals. He was thankful for the three clones. They hadn’t seen fit to carry out the instructions of the queen mother. Would this fourth clone change the power structure?
This was the first time Max was faced with the power Tess might have. “Isabel says she was very incomplete in her programing. She never was prepared by the queen mother nor did the minions of Kivar fully instruct her. Nicholas only told her that she was to seduce me, which she has confessed is no longer possible. We don’t understand this clearly, but Isabel says it is like painting on a new canvas. We will have to wait and see what Isabel learns before we understand this being.” Max finished his interview and joined Michael at one of the bars down on First Street, near where the shootout had taken place.
“James pretty much represents the alien community. They have started families and some of them have mixed with humans. The royal doctors who emigrated have eased the ability of species to mix. They said it was similar to what was used to make us,” Max informed his friend.
“Gus, over there, is completely human. He is worried about some strange gang activity. He says there has been some killings, but the bodies disappeared. That means, Nicholas has been killing certain aliens also,” Michael stated.
“Mike, you know I don’t think there ever was a census taken of who and how many aliens fled from Antar. Alien bodies don’t hang around for autopsy. So, he may have been killing certain aliens for years. He may have a hit list from Kivar. I think Goldblum and Miller were killed because of what they learned or maybe, of what one of them saw,” Max conjectured.
Max and Michael spent the rest of the day going from bar to bar, always asking about strange happenings and any mysterious activity. Max’s mind was racing. Where did the aliens hang out? Bars wouldn’t make sense unless they were dealing with humans. Creatures are creatures; they like to school like a group of fishes. Neither Max nor Michael had sufficient alien up bringing to know where this schooling took place. They both had been subjected to too much human culture, all be it from opposite ends of the human experience, Max rich and Michael poor.
Jennifer Napolitano was safely closeted in an interrogation room, with a representative of the juvenile division for company. Her old man would be in about 2:00 that afternoon. Liz dreaded what was ahead. She had to convince the mobster that it was in his daughter’s interest to give any evidence against Jack Towers and or that mysterious man who gave Jack the key. For now, Liz and Maria had about two hours off for lunch.
Liz was talking to Maria over a bowl of low calorie ice cream. The ice cream, no matter what its origin was indicated, girl talk. “Okay, Maria, what gives? You were with him for three days, or at least had the opportunity to be with him that long,” Liz stated.
“When we left that afternoon, I was in terrible shape. That slime ball, Nicholas, had almost convinced me that I was a whore. He had tainted everything I did to make my way through college. For a while, Michael and I talked and held on to each other. I think he was more damaged than he let on also. We, finally, went to bed together. Michael was very slow in getting aroused. This worried me a lot. First, had I damaged him the other night, you know that four-hour thing from Viagra and secondly what had Nicholas done to him? At the end, there was nothing to worry about. Michael performed fine. That just wasn’t the way I envisioned getting Michael. No dancing, no fireworks, no gymnastics, just simple loving,” Maria stated dreamly. “Simple loving, which drove away Nicholas.” she concluded.
“Maybe, there is more to Michael than other men you have had. Maybe with him, it won’t be only a roll in the hay, but something enduring,” Liz said.
“But, is that what I want?” asked Maria. Then she went on, “I have always been about career, art and freedom. We spent the morning with me wearing only a long tee shirt lounging about the house. Finally Michael said he wanted to go back to his apartment and get some fresh clothes. Liz, a man’s apartment seen when he is not expecting company tells a lot about him. Michael’s place was just a study in simplicity. A stack of old VHS tapes on hockey games, a few CDs of music, if you can call it music, and a pantry stocked with strange, simple food. I think that for once, my instincts are not correct. Michael has a lot he doesn’t show in his apartment. Now, the evening we returned back to my place was different,” Maria narrated.
“Well, I hope so, Maria. So far, your long weekend reads like too many of mine,” Liz said.
“When I got the big fellow back home, we hadn’t even had time for supper. I pushed him back into an easy chair and then, I gave him the best of my act. I had put on a CD of ole’ Louis Armstrong. There is something about that gravely voice and those wailing trumpet notes that brings out the best in me. By the time that Louis got to the song, “Hello Dolly,” I had loosened all the buttons on my blouse. Every time I stretched my leg, I hiked my skirt up a little higher. By the time Louis got to “St. Louis Blues,” I had the front clasp of my bra opened and my bare leg beside Michael on the couch. With every movement, I leaned forward burying his face against my chest. He tried some feeble movements of his own, but I just slapped his hands away. I was running the show; he could show me what he had later,” Maria explained.
“By the time Louie got to the muted trumpet of ‘Mac the Knife,’ I had dropped my skirt. I was pulling his face against my body. At the song, “Cabaret,” I took Michael’s hand and led him into my bedroom. With that raspy voice in the background, I removed his clothes. By that time I had him on the verge of losing it. We collapsed onto my bed. All I can tell you, Liz is that we didn’t break it with any four-hour hard-on, the other night. Michael performed with majesty,” Maria finished her tale.
Liz was shaking her head. “After that rendition, I need a cold shower. You are just so bad, girl! You are just so, so bad,” Liz almost moaned.
Maria put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Liz, it is out there. You just have to go for it. Give our neighboring lieutenant a tumble. That might even make it easier for us to get manpower when we need it. Whitman isn’t a bad looker. I have heard that geeks are good in bed because they don’t get enough. Who knows? Then, there is our friendly detective ole’ stone-faced Evans. We now know that he isn’t into that Eventide woman, she being his sister. I heard the rich really know how to tumble a girl. Any of them would get the taste of my loser cousin out of your system. You gotta get out more and I don’t mean to crime scenes, either,” Maria told her best friend.
Visions of Maria bringing Michael to his best, ran through Liz’s head. In her mind she questioned, what would alien sex be like? Maria hadn’t said anything to make Liz think it would be different. Well, Maria did say she had run the show this weekend. She hadn’t allowed Michael to demonstrate all he might do.
Liz walked to the observation room. Through the one-way mirror she looked at Jenifer Napolitano. Liz still had shivers running through her body from Maria’s story. Jenifer looked so young and vulnerable sitting there all alone. Because Jennifer wasn’t quite 18, the Lieutenant had waited until her father had flown in. She even had assigned a child welfare representative to sit with her. Jack Towers had been genuinely terrified of the old man. If her father was the mobster that Jack thought he was, Liz imagined that Jennifer didn’t have much of a social life either. Thinking of the hoops Jennifer had made Jack jump through to keep their tryst secret, Liz wondered if Jack knew that Jennifer was under-aged, at the time. Jennifer was so close to 18 that you would have to be a real bastard to make something of it, but Liz was trying to get information in a serial murder case. She was obliged to use whatever it took to catch this person.
The door to interrogation opened and two men entered. Jennifer ran to one of them, Liz imagined this must be the mobster Napolitano. Liz was also sure the other man was his lawyer. The lawyer nodded to the welfare representative.
When Liz entered, the lawyer spoke up immediately, “Mr. Napolitano demands you release his daughter.”
“She is under the legal age and she was observed having sex with an older man,” Liz lied. They had seen her enter the house and leave the house. They could have been watching wide screen TV for all Liz really knew.
The lawyer looked disgusted, “Come on Lieutenant, Jennifer is almost 18 and her moral life should be between her father and herself.”
Liz nodded, “Probably, the truth is that she and the man she was with had keys to a house. We are sure that the man who gave them the keys is somehow connected to a serial murder that we are investigating. Jack Towers, her companion, had refused to tell us how to find this man. We didn’t want to interview Jennifer until Mr. Napolitano was present.”
For the first time, Frankie Napolitano said something. “You and that man went to a house? What were you thinking? Did you trust him well enough to let him take you to some place where he could harm you? What is this going to a house owned by somebody who is mixed up in murder?” Frankie was demanding answers, but leaving no time for Jennifer to give them.
The man whom Liz assumed was the lawyer spoke again. Come to think of it, neither he nor Napolitano had given any introduction to themselves. “Mr. Napolitano is concerned about his daughter. He doesn’t want her to have any record to come back to bite her. What would it take for every thing to just disappear?” he asked.
Liz shrugged. This had been too easy. Wouldn’t a mobster have a better lawyer and see some obvious holes in the police holding Jennifer? “I am not the morals police. All I want is how to find the man who gave them the key. If I can find that out, then I have no more interest in either Mr. Towers or your daughter,” Liz answered.
Liz had noticed that Jennifer had nothing to say. She probably didn’t know anything, either. Again, Liz had twinges of conscious, but she did have several murders to solve. If pressure could be put on Jack Towers, then maybe, the police would be one step closer to solution. With a nod to Jennifer, all three of them left the room, leaving the lieutenant to sit think about what you did to be a policeperson. How close was Jennifer’s life to the lieutenants?
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 6, ch 13, Nov 12, 20
Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2011 9:23 pm
mary mary: The queen mother is only known to the clones by what they figure out. They change this many times
begonia9508 According to Isabel several thousand
Michael and Max were beating the pavement of the city’s under belly. They arrived at the alley where Max and the lieutenant had their gun battle. Buildings on both side of the alley were blackened. The power blasts had taken their toll. The walls were riddled with bullet holes. This was a neighborhood where gunshots were common and almost never reported. Even if they were reported, most of the uniformed officers had little desire to tramp through this area at night. There was no blood, no bodies and no witnesses. Thinking what Tess had said, this had been a set up. If Max or the lieutenant had been killed, Max was sure that there would have been no tears lost. The aliens who disappeared were just collateral to Nicholas. He had no care for them. The whole demonstration had been set up so, Tess could be taken by the king, if he lived through it.
Max was sure that Nicholas did not expect Tess to seduce the king immediately. Nicholas would not come looking for Tess for a while. With the implanted memory that Isabel had of the original Vilandra, Max did not think Nicholas would find it easy to take Tess away from Isabel. Michael hadn’t met Tess yet, so he hadn’t said anything about her. Max was still not sure that they shouldn’t kill her. That was the king talking in his mind. Max would never have been that cold in his own thinking. Now Michael had grown up under different conditions. Max was sure that if they deemed Tess to be a danger, Michael would be the first to vote for her execution. His clone memories had been taken from a battle, hardened soldier.
As they listened to their human snitches and interrogated some who they believed had more knowledge than they had been willing, at first, to divulge, a picture was appearing. There were now two classes of aliens. The two classes had nothing to do with the different species of alien. There were those Isabel so carefully sheparded and a here-to-fore unknown group who had brought to Earth another mafia type crime. Nicholas was not part of this crime, but he used them to gain his ends. Nicholas was clearly fermenting a revolution in the name of Kivar. Subverting the king had been one of the first projects of this revolution.
“Hello, Isabel Eventide’s office. This is Teresa speaking, how can I help you?”
Letting Tess be her personal secretary, allowed Isabel to watch her development and to also, give Tess opportunities to integrate into Isabel’s society. This wasn’t the first time Isabel and Max had questioned their clone donors from Antar. Isabel was unclear why the queen mother had not included Tess on the same ship, which brought not only her self, but also Max and Michael to Earth. The clone of Ava was untrained. She was not stupid. Why was the queen mother so against her? Had the queen mother known something about the purchased, Ava. Creating a clone of Ava and then allowing the clone to fall into the hands of Kivar was criminal, especially if The clone had some unknown ability. Except by chance, that Isabel didn’t yet understand, Tess could have been a real problem. If she had been able to control Max, as she said she could have done. If Max hadn’t given the royal sign to someone else, that, would have been a problem. With Max gone rogue and joining Kivar, the aliens on Earth would probably not have survived. Earth governments and culture were not as weak as Antarians apparently thought they were. Illegal aliens were usually tolerated until they caused some sort of crime. Earth people were very able in creating “Witch hunts” if they felt endangered.
Given up the seal, that bothered Isabel. Her memory said that was what the king did when he took a queen. He gave her the royal seal. Isabel knew that there was a glowing tattoo that sometimes appeared under the skin of royalty. Isabel’s clone was not in line for succession so she had never experienced this. The Evans family brought both Max and Isabel up in a strictly human environment. Max, even then, had been a loner. Could Isabel remember if any of the girls Max knew as a youth had been serious enough for him to have given them the seal? Did Max even know how to give the seal? Was it a voluntary action? Did it just happen if Max got very intense with some woman? Once again, Isabel thought someone should have included a damned manual. At least with Humans, no matter what you bought someone included a manual, or a how to make it work.
“One minute, please. Let me check Miss Eventides schedule and see if she is even in town that date,” Tess asked politely. Of course, that gave Isabel a chance to accept or turn down appointments as to her humor. Sometimes, Isabel would vigorously shake her head and Tess would politely again respond that she was sorry, but Miss Evantide was busy that date. Tess had been told that Isabel, occasionally, had social dates and Isabel would instruct her to block out the evening and some of the next morning in her book.
“Tess, I used to enjoy a free life style. I still accept some lovers as long as I can keep them from getting too intense or too close. They are human and not those who I would want to learn about my alien status,” Isabel explained. As she explained this to Tess, Isabel wondered why she had a faint irritation as to this part of her life. Isabel had never felt this before. Even growing up and enduring the sex talks of the Evans parents, Isabel had always thought that these rules were for humans. She had always felt above them. There was something changing in Isabel’s life.
Tess frowned, “Nicholas emphasized so strongly that I was only for the king that I am not sure I can find as many men of interest as you do. The king is now off limits so I might, someday, find one lover to go to, but I don’t think I could handle many,” Tess stated.
This gave Isabel entrance for a question she badly wanted to know. “How do you know that the king is off limits? What do you mean that he has given someone his seal? Who is this person that has taken the seal from Max?” Isabel wanted to know all these questions. She felt that if the seal had been taken by the wrong person, it might be almost as bad as if Tess had gained it.
Tess had sort of a blank look about her for several minutes. It was as if she was trying to translate something very foreign. “When I reached into his mind the seal wasn’t there. He had no knowledge of the seal. That I could see as I searched his mind. The person who holds the seal has no idea that she holds it. I am forbidden to announce who she is. Only the holder of the seal can do this,” Tess related.
Isabel felt she had learned a little bit, but she wanted to know so much more. Isabel, also, wanted to know if that old queen mother had limited Tess’s mind or even the mind of Tess’s clone donor. It would be like the queen mother to make it impossible for Tess’s clone to have more lovers than the queen’s son. This was another part of the puzzle that Isabel had to contemplate. Isabel also wondered why she had to begun to question her own activities.
On paper, Donnie Richards was an excellent officer. In the police academy he was top of his class in all things. The only negatives about his service were not written on paper. Counselor Raymond Richards was a politician on the city council. The grease the old man had was enough to keep anyone from defaming his son. Many comments had been erased from his file. Some of his partners, especially the older officers, felt he was impatient and had poor impulse control. This character won him awards for heroism and frowns from those who knew better. In a hostage situation, Donnie disappeared while his fellow officers were in a stand-off waiting for the negotiation officer. At the last minute while the perp was screaming his demands, Donnie rushed from his hidden position, disarming the perp and knocking the hostage out of the way of danger. This earned him cheers of praise from the sensational seeking press and bystanders along with nods from the political ranking officers who were quick to acknowledge that they were proud to have such an able officer under their command. It also caused shudders among the veteran officers who expected to know what their partners and fellow officers were doing at all times. Donnie had been lucky. If something had gone wrong, many lives could have been lost and not only the life of the hostage either.
Pictures of Nicholas Crawford had been passed out to the uniformed officers. The duty sergeants had also reminded all the uniforms what Lieutenant Whitman had passed on from Lieutenant Parker. Observe and do not make contact. There had been some grumbling among the uniforms about this command from the detective squad. If they want to know something about this perp, why not bring him in and sweat the hell out of him? The interrogators of the detective squad were legendary in their skills. They could sweat a perp to give up his mother. Were the detectives getting soft someway? The final command really frosted Donnie’s tea. It read, “If it looks like Nicholas is going to ground somewhere, then notify Little Napoleon and she will make the take down with one of her special squad.”
To many of the uniformed squad, Little Napoleon was even more of a joke than she was to the detectives under Lieutenant Whitman. Who gave a damn about some jerk blowing himself up while cooking Meth? Real police work was getting perps off the streets. How, as long as you didn’t get caught, was of less consequence.
Fred Garman was almost a twenty-year veteran. Finish up this year and he could settle down on that “chicken ranch” that officers dreamed about. Fred did not know what the chicken ranch would be. He knew that it wouldn’t involve farming. He was just sure that somewhere, there would be a small town and some stress-free job that he could settle down with, as he accepted his reward for his loyal service as a police officer. He was sure he had, someway, drawn the short straw. The truth was that Captain Valenti had suggested that Donnie be paired with Fred, because that might slow Donnie down. The captain might think that Fred was a good thing for Donnie, but Fred definitely felt that it was retribution for fouling his sergeant in squad level basketball the other night.
Donnie was mad because Fred insisted on driving. Fred had heard all about Donnie’s driving. What was the use of speed, if you crashed getting there? Sulking, Donnie was looking out the side window. He couldn’t wait until this shift would be over. He had no idea why a decorated officer such as he, would be put with this old foggy.
Suddenly Donnie scrambled for the picture he had been issued at briefing. There, walking down the street, was Nicholas. Shit! He was just a punk kid. Why were they making such a fuss about that little punk? Donnie looked over at Fred and was disappointed that Fred had made the identification the same as he had. Fred slowed to a crawl driving through the street, watching Nicholas up ahead. Donnie reached for the door handle. “No, we observe,” Fred barked.
“Come on, Fred, those orders came from that scrawny bitch, Little Napoleon. “She just wants the credit for herself. She can’t do the surveillance so she has us do it for her, then she can swoop in and gather all the glory,” Donnie complained.
Fred chuckled, “You say that where she can hear it and she will cram that night stick so far up your butt that you won’t even be able to work school crossing guard.”
Donnie just looked at Fred. How did that woman manage to fake out the whole department? Donnie knew what he could do on a collar. Look how easy he had taken out that man in the hostage situation that time. Place a Glock against his head and any man will cooperate.
Fred took up his microphone and called in. “Unit 4, Metropolis,” he said.
“Go ahead unit 4,” was the response.
“Subject, Nicholas Crawford, seen entering the Lost Hooters Bar on west Central,” Fred announced.
A call was made immediately to Little Napoleon’s office. This was the first time in several days that Nicholas seemed to be going somewhere where he might remain for any time. The lieutenant was pulling her Glock out of her desk as she answered the phone. “Ask if they can maintain surveillance until we get there?” she requested. As she and DeLuca passed the radio desk, Liz shouted, “See if you can give this information to Evans and Guerin,”
Radio contacted Fred again. “Unit 4, can you maintain visual until the lieutenant gets there?”
“Yes Metropolis, I know the bartender, I think he will play along with me checking his license until they arrive,” Fred responded as he pulled into the parking lot. Fred then turned to Donnie, “Listen, no grand standing. Lieutenant Parker has her reasons for wanting us to just observe. We will do as she says.” Fred should have known that Donnie would be difficult. Fred’s mistake was expecting Donnie to act like a responsible police officer.
All the way in, Donnie had his own thoughts. Yeah, she wants to grab the credit after we do all the work, Donnie mused. Given a chance, I am going to go for it. This old fart only wants retirement. I want Sergeant strips.
Fred and Donnie walked into the bar. Fred said in a booming voice, “Hey Joe, it is time for another license check.”
Joe Duval had been working at this bar for almost 20 years. He ran a clean joint. He would throw someone out rather than chance a underage patron charge. He, also, knew Fred. Fred had no interest in checking his liquor license that he could think of. As he silently handed over the paper, he heard Fred whisper, “See those Yahoos in the corner?”
Joe nodded. And Fred continued. “Tell your bar maid not to seat anyone near them.”
Again, Joe nodded and slowly went over to the waitress. She nodded understanding what Joe meant.
Watching the mirror behind the bar. Fred appeared to still be studying the paper Joe had handed him. Fred turned extending the license to where he thought Donnie should be and that little son-of-a –bitch wasn’t there. Looking around, Fred couldn’t make out Donnie anywhere. “O Lord, please make him be in the head with a loose bladder,” Fred prayed. He was hoping that Donnie had gone to the restroom without saying anything.
Maria had her foot into the radiator. She, maybe, was a better driver than the lieutenant, or at least, she took more chances. Liz was on the radio talking to Max, who having been notified, was on his way with Michael. Maria came into the parking lot sideways. Maria slid to a stop. At that moment, they heard first one single shot. Then, they saw bright lights flickering through the windows and someone emptied the entire magazine of their Glock.
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 7, ch 14, Nov 19, 20
Posted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 6:32 pm
Liz called in on her radio, “Shots fired. Tell Evans and Guerin to hurry up!” Then, she and DeLuca made their way through the mass exodus from the bar.
By the time they found Fred and the bartender crouched behind the bar, most of the customers had departed. Maria couldn’t resist a quick look over the bar. Liz saw her and yanked her down quickly just ahead of a bolt of lightning. The smell of singeing hair told Maria that she indeed had had a close call. Quickly, before anyone could stop her a second time, Maria jumped up and emptied her Glock into one of the men over in the corner where the lightening had come from. Maria hit the floor as another flash answered her. Liz whispered, “What happened, Fred?”
Fred was shaking his head. “That little bastard, Donnie. We should have thrown him off the force that first week. No, he had serious grease from somewhere. I don’t think he ever listened to anyone. We had a charade going, checking Joe’s liquor license and watching that Nicholas fellow. Donnie pulls a Houdini and next thing I know is, he has his Glock against the perp’s back. Lieutenant, I ain’t never seen anything that fast. That Nicholas spins and grabs Donnie. Donnie fires and something spurts everywhere from Nicholas. The perp’s hands glow and Donnie screams. Next thing I know, perp’s gone, Donnie is down and one of those assholes is pointing at me with his open hand. I just emptied my Glock at him. I think he went down. I swear, lieutenant, I don’t know anything else,” Fred confessed.
Maria tentatively looked around the edge of the bar. Then, she carefully stood up. “All clear, lieutenant. Donnie isn’t moving and there are two dust piles beside him. No one else is here,” she declared.
Fred, Joe and Liz slowly stood up. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Maria, but with the violence they had just witnessed, they only completely trusted their own senses.
There was a shadow at the door and Maria and Liz both turned to the door their Glocks extended. Michael and Max had just entered. Without a word, Max went over to Donnie. He looked at Liz, “Sorry, Lieutenant, there is nothing here. I can’t do anything for him,” he said as he took a table cloth and drew it over the body.
The four of Little Napoleon’s team were sitting in her office along with Fred Garman when Kyle stormed in.
“What the hell is going on?” he screamed.
Liz felt that it was her team and she should take the brunt of Kyle’s anger. “It was the silver hand killer, captain,” she stated simply.
Then, Kyle turned to Fred. “You were senior officer. How did you let him try a fool stunt like that?” he stormed.
Before Fred could say anything Liz spoke up. “It’s not Fred’s fault. Donnie has been cruising for a fall ever since he made the force. If he didn’t have political grease, we would have probably thrown him out that first week. He was just lucky with that stunt with the hostage. The press and some of the police board sucked it up and Donnie wanted more. My orders were surveillance only until my team got there. We probably understood him better and we wouldn’t have tried to take him down in a damned bar, packed with patrons,” Liz replied.
Kyle was still mad. He turned to Fred, “The report says that both you and DeLuca got one each. How come there is only one body in the meat room? What did you do with the perps?” He asked.
Liz spoke up. “Kyle, call your daddy. The chief has more knowledge than anyone in this room with the possible exception of Evans and Guerin. This is the same thing you father faced in Roswell,” Liz informed him.
Kyle chilled and some of the color left his face. Kyle had been a child when his mother left, fed up with his father’s infatuation with aliens. Kyle remembered what it had taken out of his father. Now, they were back. Kyle went to Liz’s phone and dialed. “Pop, I need you in Little Napoleon’s office. We just lost an officer.” Then, he hung up. Kyle went to the open office outside Liz’s door and brought two chairs to crowd into the small room. Liz hated the name Little Napoleon, but this wasn’t the time to lodge a complaint.
Big Jim Valenti ambled into her office and took the chair his son offered him. Liz noticed that he looked tired and old. She had noticed this before when he had lost an officer. Kyle spoke up, “Dad, it is just like it was before in Roswell.”
Liz spoke up then, “Not exactly, Kyle. We have some experts on aliens with us now.”
Big Jim looked up, “Lets see, Evans and Guerin. You both are from Roswell, aren’t you?”
They both nodded.
“Yeah,” Big Jim continued. “There was that thing about two naked kids found by that lawyer family. They were named Evans. There was also that foundling, boy. Something about him terrorizing the foster care with flying tables and such.”
Michael and Max again nodded. “Where is that sister of yours, Max?” Jim asked.
“She is around,” Max answered.
“Maybe we oughta get all of you together and see what we have. I sure would like to nail one of them bastards. Nail one and get a good look before he disappears,” Jim mused.
“Getting together is no problem, keeping one of them from disappearing into a pile of dust might be. However, we have no idea of what would happen to Nicholas. He isn’t from the same parts as we are,” Max responded.
Their meeting had just broken up when Liz got a call that she had a visitor. It was a few minutes when Mrs. Goldblum was escorted up to Liz’s office. Sensing that the lady would probably open up better before just the lieutenant and not a crowd, the rest of her squad waited outside.
“Mrs. Goldblum, what can I do for you?” Liz asked.
“You told me if I found anything, I should bring it to you. My Rabbi told me that this might be the thing which would bring my David’s killers to justice.” The tired and drawn woman handed Liz a small notebook. “We opened our security box at the bank and among other things of a personal nature, we found this. Rabbi Sterns says we had to bring it to you. I have always trusted him in a crisis,” she stated.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Liz asked.
“No, I know you, of the police, did not like my David, him representing those bad people all the time. David always said everyone deserved the best representation possible. I just always wished it didn’t have to be him. Sometimes at night, he couldn’t sleep. He would wake up crying saying, ‘I know that man is guilty. He killed without feeling. I have to always do my best.’ I think he was glad sometimes when he lost a case.”
Liz didn’t have an answer. Yes, there were many of those, who David Goldblum represented, that Liz would have preferred to have been shot, resisting arrest.
Back in her office, she handed the notebook to Evans. See if anything in here is important,” she told him. Max curled up in the corner where he had his desk and began to read and take notes.
Liz and Maria had notes from several uniformed officers to go over in their sighting of Nicholas. They were trying to establish where he normally hung out. Michael left for his own reasons. When he did, Liz looked at Evans and he said, “Sometimes, Michael does that. Usually, he can take care of himself. He does have a radio and his cell phone. He will call if he finds something too big to handle. He is no Donnie. Michael knows when something is too big for him alone.”
Isabel arrived as she had every time she had come to the office. She and Tess waited at the door of the detective room. Several of the detectives offered to help her, but with a smile she said she was looking for Lieutenant Whitman. His men, taking care of their lieutenant, called Alex out of his office. When he saw Isabel, he couldn’t help but smile. “Lieutenant, this is my personal assistant, Teresa. Would you be so kind to escort us to where we are to meet with Lieutenant Parker?” she smiled. Isabel’s smile made Alex’s day. With a gorgeous woman on each arm, he walked through the sea of desks. Not a word was heard, but when he returned after leaving the two women, there were several cat calls. “Lieutenant, how does a simple cop get two luscious babes to hang onto his arms?” someone asked. Alex blushed. Now, it is an established rule that Cops don’t blush.
When Isabel and Tess walked into the conference room, Kyle was the first to raise his eyebrows. Isabel, he remembered slightly from his childhood. She was that fancy bitch, in his mind, whom he admired from afar. His father saw him watching her one time, and Big Jim said, “Son, she ain’t for the likes of you. You get that girl in trouble and her parents will get a court order to cut ‘it’ off. No woman is worth that.”
Kyle took his father’s admonition to heart and, although he saw Isabel from time to time, she always remained beyond his grasp. Now that blonde woman, who the hell was she? She had the dress and style of Isabel, but there was a more earthiness about her. Isabel had introduced her as her private secretary. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how approachable she would be? Isabel stood up and that silenced Kyle’s mental ramblings for a time. After all, he was a police officer who had just lost a man in a fire-fight. That damned councilman father of Donnie’s was raising cane. He had forced the department to take Donnie, even though many thought Donnie was not right for police work. Now, of course, it was the department’s fault. How could they let Donnie walk into danger like they did?
Isabel spoke up, “Chief,” she addressed Big Jim. “The few aliens who have emigrated to Earth from our world have lived in peace. Like some other emigrate groups, it is the bad ones who call attention to our plight.” Isabel said it this way even though the emigrant population from Antar measured several thousand. That was small compared to the rest of Earth’s population. “From the beginning, I want it understood that Nicholas is not part of our group. He is a different species from us and his intentions are different. Nicholas is an enemy combatant. Nicholas was sent here to foment a revolution. If he could be captured, he should be turned over to the military. He probably can’t be captured or held by any Earth force. If he could be killed, it would be my wish for you to create an assassination squad. We are not sure that we can kill him. My people have to be forced to see that they must isolate him. The aliens he collects with him must be destroyed. All aliens must see that his way leads only to extinction.”
Big Jim was frowning, for all his problems with aliens most of his life, talking about killing by police officers bothered him.
Max spoke up, “I think I can tie David Goldblum to the aliens. According to the book his wife gave us, Goldblum defended Robert McKracken on a possession charge. Now, all the detective squad believes that McKracken is tied up with Eloy Padilla, a known fence. Padilla is believed to be selling prescription drugs and even military supplies to someone. We have several leads of small time thieves bringing Padilla items of their burglaries, even some with items taken from the military stores. We have no idea or what he is doing with them or who he is selling to. We have never found his storehouse or anything past Padilla in the trail of evidence. That is why we haven’t grabbed him. Goldblum does not violate client confidentiality, but he did learn of Padilla and even met Nicholas somehow in his association with McKracken. That is the information Goldblum was giving to Archie Miller. By the way, we didn’t think Nicholas used the cadmium factor in killing, but what the lieutenant and Sarge DeLuca saw, Nicholas can leave silver handprints, they were on Donnie’s chest. That is going to hit the fan when the counselor hears about that.” Max had quite a narrative to spin, from what he had learned so recently.
Maria asked, “Where is Guerin?”
“He is with the alien population. They would be completely closed up if humans came among them. Michael is trying to organize their leaders to fight Nicholas or at least, isolate him. There was a rumor that I was going to go over to Nicholas’s side. Michael is trying to put a stop to that.” Max explained.
At this, Kyle frowned. The idea of a rumor that one of his men might be a traitor, upset him greatly. He remembered Evans, now, from childhood in Roswell. He was kind of a queer duck, then. Kyle’s world had been filled with Jocks and studs. The reputation of Evans with Lieutenant Whitman was exemplary. Kyle had to ask, “How do we know that you won’t go over to this Nicholas guy?”
For the first time, Tess spoke up. “I was sent to seduce the king,” she indicated Max. “I was too late. The king has given his heart to another,” she finished.
At this, Big Jim frowned. “So, Max is a king of some kind. Who is it, that he has given his heart to?” he asked.
Tess lowered her eyes, “I am forbidden to tell. Max has no idea of who she is, neither does she realize that she has been chosen by the king.”
In one corner of his mind, Kyle had been fantasizing about this mysterious women ever since she had entered the room. Was she some kind of Mata Hari, the seductress of World War One? “You say you are forbidden, that means you won’t tell us anything about who Evans might be connected to,” Kyle forcibly stated.
It now was for Isabel to explain. “Captain, you do not understand alien psychology. Max was cloned from royalty. He has since denounced the throne. He is now, only a leader among his people. Genetically, he is to align himself with a mate. When he does, he will stay with her to death. Aliens from Antar, especially clones of royalty, who have both human and alien genetic material, do not consciously make decisions about their mates. As a fresh clone, Tess was programed to seduce the king and take his symbol. We don’t completely understand this. Tess says that Max no longer has this symbol. You would have to destroy her mind to drag out what she knows about this. Even then, it probably wouldn’t make any sense. Once this path was closed to Tess, it was open for me to reprogram her. Now, before you get the wrong idea, you say schooled or trained, it is us who say programed.”
Kyle wasn’t sure how much of this talk he understood or even believed. On a romantic level it was clear that once she had been cleared of Evans, this blonde woman was up for grabs. Isabel still had that I’m better than you hauteur. This was strange because she claimed to be Max Evans sister. Now, with the boys, Max was a regular guy. Well, he didn’t drink, but he never was a wet blanket at the police bar they all hung out at. He was always up for designated driver. Now there was something about Tess. Kyle felt a slight hard on, just being in her presence. Had Kyle had time to talk to Sergeant DeLuca or had the knowledge of her experience with another known alien, Michael, Kyle’s ‘hard on’ might have been even more pronounced at the thought of alien love making. Then, his police personality dug it’s way through the rest of the trash in his mind. “What are we going to say about Officer Donnie Richards?” he asked.
At this Lieutenant Parker spoke up. “With the Chief’s permission, we say that Officer Richards was killed while on duty, by what has been named the ‘silver handprint’ killer. The department is continuing its investigation. We have no other statement to make at this time.”
Big Jim nodded. Parker hit it on the head. Fallen officers should go out with honor, at least to the public. It was Sergeant DeLuca who stated, “Yeah, but we gotta make sure that the rookies all know that what he did was dumb.”
Again, Big Jim nodded.
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 7, ch 15, Nov 26, 20
Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2011 8:43 pm
The meeting was now over and Tess and Isabel were on their way home. Tess was sure that she would never be given complete freedom any more than had her donor. Ava hadn’t been given any freedom by the queen mother. The queen mother had purchased Ava as a proper consort for her son. Tess was sure that any social life she might find would have been severely proscribed within her programing. That had been Ava’s destiny. When Kivar had obtained the infant clone, this slight imprint gave him the idea of infiltration. She already had plantings for the young king. Kivar would slightly change these to include a loyalty to him. For reasons of power, he made this loyalty contingent to her seduction of the king’s clone. When this failed, through no fault of her own, she again became a blank slate. Isabel had undertaken her programing or training or education, if the other words seem too harsh.
The passion of the original Ava remained and it needed a target. Max, the king was out. Isabel had no intention of allowing her, now, protégée, freedom to be on her own. Tess mentally surveyed all the males she was given contact to. That other lieutenant was also out. Isabel had conflicting ideas toward him, but Tess did not want to challenge her mentor. Tess hadn’t yet met Michael, but the strong feelings of Maria would probably, likewise, put him out of bounds. The chief, what was his name? Oh yes, it was Big Jim. He had passion but somewhere in the back of his mind, there was someone far away who attracted him. The Captain Kyle Valenti was all that was left. Tess sensed a man with unbridled passions. These passions were all superficial, because he refused to really fall in love. This would be no problem for a creature like Tess. She, also, sensed that Kyle would present no condemnation from her mentor, Isabel. In Tess’s present state of programing, this was of utmost importance.
Once everyone was out of the lieutenant’s office, Big Jim returned. “Parker, this is for your information only. Chiefs of police the world over have sort of a ring. We trade information all the time between each other. Little of this information can go to court, but it does help different departments from time to time. I put out the word on the silver handprint killer. I don’t believe in people changing what they are. We had not heard anything about silver handprints used in recent murders. I thought he was dead. Maybe I hoped that was so. Suddenly, we find him back. Where has he been? Anywhere in the States and I am sure word would have leaked out. Now, I received a message from a minor police official in Romania. The hill folk have have been talking, for sometime, about mysterious killings all marked by a silver handprint. It was said that Nicholas did not need to use silver handprints. He only did that before you and DeLuca to show you something. There may be another; he even may be with Nicholas who kills with silver prints as a his trademark.” With this, Big Jim returned to his office to write a commemoration for the fallen officer, Donnie Richards.
Liz and Max were in her office studying notes written by Goldblum. Maria and Michael were in the field again beating the pavement to not let up on Nicholas. This time, they were on the western outskirts of the city. Many times cities develop a festering core like a sore on the body of an otherwise healthily being. The core of decay may have great historic value, as it was the start of the city. Radiating out from the center will be industry which originated while the city was new and fresh. The area of industry and warehouses will be a mixture of legitimate businesses and storehouses for the bounty of crime. Michael and the sergeant would find places where almost anything could take place. A complete knowledge would take a lifetime to catalog. There might come time when both of them would wish that this knowledge had been learned.
Further out were areas of development of the leaders and supporters of the community. Neighborhoods of wealth and mediocrity, like islands, were dispersed through this area of development or at least one time development. Beyond this, beyond what could be called the suburbs was found anarchy of those who wanted the benefits of the city, but didn’t want to pay the taxes or submit to the rules. These highly individualistic beings were difficult to interview.
It was later, when Max and Michael were back together, that they learned they had infiltrated these rebels. They were not bothering the humans so much as looking for more alien collections. The “man,” as in police officer was not respected. He was a symbol of an authority these beings had fled before, rather than give their just due. Max and Michael had hoped to find aliens who might be willing to open up to their king, even if he was in name only. The positive thing was that they wouldn’t open themselves to such as Nicholas. They had fled from Kivar and nothing any being could say would make them give up the freedom of anarchy they were now finding.
“You mention the name of Antar. You might sound like that other fellow, a young little bastard his face still in pimples. Me father left that place. The fucking royals were bad enough, but they knew their place. Stay away from the palace and pay enough taxes and they left you alone. That other fellow was too nosy. How much did you make? What are your kids doing? When are you going to join the co-op to help those less fortunate? All this shit sounds like control to me,” Kril McGowan stated. All the time he was eyeing Maria. Where did she fit and why was the obvious alien Guerin talking so open in front of her? Maria wondered where he got the name McGowan. Max had taken the name of his adoptive parents. Isabel did also until she changed her name to Eventide, which she used in her lectures. Michael’s last name, Earth standard was given by the welfare system. No telling where these people got their names.
The aliens in this region were not listening to Nicholas, but they weren’t kissing the king’s ass either. McGowan was one of many interviews that Maria and Michael had made this day. Unless, in some way, their human interaction changed, the aliens here would not be a worry. Maria and Michael next, would enter neighborhoods primarily inhabited by the aliens from Antar. These aliens followed human custom and law without question. They also kept many of their old Antarian customs. They had a community council along with a hierarchy of leaders. Here Michael found a prejudice among some of the old royals. Humans were beneath them so why shouldn’t they be permitted to rule? These were ripe fruit for Nicholas in his charge from Kivar to foment revolution. Many of them had recognized Max as king and wondered if the word from Nicholas was true? Would Max take his rightful place as king and help the Antarians to rise to their rightful place? These were the people who scared Michael. Here, just being with Maria, showed how Michael stood. Maria being his partner and also human showed that Michael as a cop and person, Michael was on the side of getting along with humans. He was sure that some of the aliens had dipped into his mind and knew about his relationship with Maria. Michael needed to meet with the Antarian security and judge where they stood. If they were willing to follow what they had been doing for years, then they could warn of any progress that Nicholas might make. If however, they had been corrupted, then there was a problem. This could attract the military and bring down wrath on all the non-Earth aliens.
The information from DeLuca and Guerin was as troubling to Liz as was what Evans and Guerin had learned. Before this series of murders, she had no idea to the extent of alien invasions. Liz imagined that most communities didn’t know that all the aliens in their neighborhood were not from Iraq or Mexico. Archie Miller was a reporter. He was on the trail of otherworld aliens and he had evidence from David Goldblum. There was some connection between McKracken, Padilla and Nicholas. That was what Goldblum had discovered. Unfortunately so far, Max had not found out what the connection was from Goldblum’s notes. The lieutenant gave him all the notebooks from Miller’s wife. Maybe together with Goldblum’s notebook, he could learn more.
Maria was still out with Guerin. They had some lead or the other, Liz wasn’t sure what it was. Her office got a call. It was from José, Maria’s old boss at the strip club. Maria being out, they transferred the call to her boss, Liz. Nicholas had just shown up. He had an interest in one of the dancers. Michael had warned José about taking action on his own, so he was calling. Liz immediately called Maria. “Hey, what is your 20? (location)” Liz asked.
“We are on the southeast side of the city, near the mountain. What’s up?” Maria responded.
“I just got a call from José that Nicholas is at the Brass Pole,” Liz stated. “Evans and I are rolling as I speak.”
“10-4, (okay) Lieutenant,” Maria answered. “We are on the roll, also.”
Ruby Sears, not her real name, naturally, was at first repelled by the pimply-faced kid who had sought her attention. He wanted a lap dance. She had checked with José. José had acted strangely, but finally, he nodded his permission. Nicholas paid well. As Ruby, expertly, did the bump and grand in his lap she couldn’t feel any physical movement beneath her butt. Nicholas was putting bills in her panties and also under her bra. With any other customer, she would have felt his swelling arousal in his pants. If she had done a particularly good job, he might even unzip hoping to make skin contact before one of the bouncers saw him and shut her down. Yes, the john could have all the fantasy he wanted, but José did not allow anything that could be called prostitution. If the john jacked off, make sure that it remained in his pants. If Ruby was doing nothing for him, why didn’t he just let her slide off his lap and be done with it? Yet, he kept placing the bills and she would feel his fingers linger intimately against her skin. Normally, jacking a john was a day at the office. It troubled Ruby. She was getting more from this dance than this kid. It was frightening how intently he seemed to be studying her.
Max and Liz entered the parking lot in a skid. They were running the minute the police car stopped. Inside, Liz saw that Nicholas was with a girl in a back corner of the room. José had arranged all the other customers away from the gyrations of Ruby. The sight of two people entering with drawn pistols emptied the place quickly. Nicholas stood up quickly. This was the first time Liz had had a good look at him. She saw a puny teenager with bad complexion. If she hadn’t been warned, by Max as to how dangerous he was, Liz would have been tempted to slap that grin off his face and call his parents. Max had informed Liz that Nicholas was timeless. He went back to the early days of Max’s donor’s family. It had been for reasons of his own that he took the part of Ida Crawford’s backward son.
Ruby had given a loud yelp when Nicholas let her hit the floor. She was in harm’s way, but so far, she hadn’t been hurt. Liz started to fire at Nicholas, but Max held her wrist. “No, lieutenant look, he is behind a shield,” Max cautioned. Nicholas was standing behind a green haze. He was backing toward the rear entrance. “If the shield, flickers even for a moment, then fire. He would have to drop the shield to fire a power blast at us,” Max added.
Nicholas had the advantage. Liz, as a police officer, had to consider the girl on the floor before them, the patrons who might out of stupid curiosity remain to see what played out and José and his employees who were behind her, but she did not know exactly where. Nicholas could open fire with whatever he had without any care. Liz didn’t want any innocent person to get hurt.
The minute that the haze fell and Nicholas made his way through the rear door, Max and Liz both rushed forward. Once outside, they saw nothing, Nicholas had disappeared.
This time, Max did not wait for permission from his lieutenant. “Isabel, Nicholas has raped another mind. We are at the Brass Pole out on East Central. We need you quickly,” he stated on his cell phone.
José led Ruby and Liz back to a dressing room. Max had his notebook out and was interviewing the employees who were still in a bit of shock. Michael and Maria arrived about the same time as did Isabel along with Tess, her secretary. Isabel, followed by Tess, went into the dressing room with Ruby and Liz while Maria talked to José. Max and Michael talked to the other workers at the Brass Pole.
“Maria, how did that little bastard have the guts to come back in here?” José asked.
“He doesn’t fear us. He really doesn’t consider us one-way or the other. He is very arrogant,” Maria explained.
“Maria, baby, you don’t know how much I wanted to put a 45 in that smirking face of his. I am sure he is the one who killed Ed Livingston,” José moaned. “It is only because you told me not to, chica,” he continued.
Maria patted him on he arm, “José, you couldn’t have stopped him. You would have gotten yourself killed and achieved nothing,” She warned again.
Liz had brought Ruby down to the interrogation office. Michael and Max were learning little. The only time any of the employees noticed Nicholas, was after José gave them warning. Isabel had placed a robe around Ruby. “You know my real name is Becky Johanson,” the sobbing lady stated. “I just want what ever I say to be from me and not that stage name I dance under,” she explained.
Isabel’s voice was very soothing. Liz knew that the alien was up to something; she didn’t yet, know enough about them to know of Tess’s mental powers. “Was this the first time you had ever seen Nicholas?” Isabel asked.
I saw him when Ed threw him out. Oh my god, was he the one who killed Ed? Why didn’t José do something? I waited until José gave me the nod before going over into the corner with him. Does José know who he is? I can’t imagine José letting scum into the place like that,” she concluded.
Liz spoke up. “That is our fault. Nicholas is very dangerous. We felt that in any way challenging him would be dangerous for all of you. José was following my orders. There is no telling what he would have done if you had refused him.”
Isabel kept Becky talking. She was a small town girl in college. Money was tight so she heard that good money could be made at the club, Brass Pole. “It wasn’t like prostitution or anything. The men took very few liberties worse than I would get in a crowded elevator at college. Besides, every time they touched me they left money. A girl can put up with a bit of feel if it pays the tuition and board,” she concluded. If Maria had been in the room with them she might have agreed with Becky.
Isabel looked over at Tess and with a slight nod Isabel began talking in almost a mono-tone. This made even Liz loose concentration for a minute. Becky was quickly fast asleep.
Tess was sitting with her eyes tightly closed. Isabel turned to Liz and said, “She was mind raped all right. Nicholas wanted something. He left no barriers like he did with Maria. I don’t think he intended for us to even know what he did to Becky. As far as we can tell, he was taking sexual emotions. This isn’t the Nicholas, from my genetic clone’s memory. That Nicholas was a sex, stud machine. He and Kivar would take turns with my clone donor for hours. This one seems to show no physical ability. A lap dance as she described would have the Nicholas of old ripping off her clothes and screwing her to death.
Liz still had a lot of trouble thinking about previous lives and genetic memory. There was something here and she was willing to allow Isabel and Tess to be the experts. Tess finally stood up. “I scrubbed her memory. She will remember the lap dance, but little else. Nicholas was seeking sexual emotions from a human. I just wonder why? What is he up to? Surely he sees that I am not in control of the king. He must be working on plan “B,” she said.
Isabel was sure that Nicholas had no further use for Becky or rather Ruby. Becky knew nothing so he probably wouldn’t comeback after her. Ruby was allowed to call a cab and go home back to the dorms. Again, she became Becky Johanson, education major, someday hoping to teach first grade.
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 8, ch 16, Dec 3 2011
Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2011 1:51 pm
Lieutenant Parker had her team in her office this morning. “We had another murder this morning. It was a homeless person. I didn’t call any of you out, because Lieutenant Whitman’s boys had already gathered up all the evidence. He called me, but there wasn’t much to see. So far we have no tie in to any of the other murders,” she informed her squad.
A voice spoke up from the doorway. “In Romania, the official said there were at least two murderers. He said the crimes were almost at random. It seemed they were killing because they enjoyed killing.” It was the deputy chief Big Jim, himself. He stated, “Don’t knock yourselves out on every killing. If they are the same from Roswell so long ago and the ones reported from Romania, some of the killings will not fit any pattern.”
There had been at least one change in Lieutenant Parker’s team. Michael had moved in with Maria. Maria was still a “hot” cop. In the exercise room she body slammed with the best of them. At first, she was disappointed that Michael didn’t join her with personal defense practice. “Maria, I don’t know how to make it a game. I fight for real and for keeps. I only fight someone I don’t like very much,” he explained. Sometimes in the exercise room, Maria got a little too rough. She always said, “If you can’t take it from a girl, and a girl who is on the same side as you are, how’er you gonna take it from a perp?” That satisfied some officers, but it worried Michael. One object of the exercise room was to give it your best, but never lose sight that this was only practice. Never lose control when you are playing with your friends.
That wasn’t enough for the Maria in this frame of mind. Most of the men had been slammed by Maria and were not wanting to go around again, when she called out, they just stood at the side of the gym. “What’s wrong, don’t any of you he-men want a free feel as you spar with me,” Maria cried out. Then, Maria crossed the line. Michael imagined that, unless the men were blind, they had surmised that he had finally, made the squad’s pin-up girl. Michael wasn’t into kiss and brag. What he had given to Maria and taken from her, was private business as far as he was concerned. Maria shouted out, “Michael, you took me in bed, are you afraid to take me in the gym? Are you afraid to take me in front of all these men?” As she screamed this last part, all could see that tears were streaming down her face.
Michael had no choice. He squared off with Maria. Their feet were bare and so were their hands. This would be rough and tumble, neither were wearing boxing gloves. Maria threw a quick jab. Michael easily dodged it. Michael could have come up under her punch and quickly ended this charade with a body punch to her abdomen. It would have let all the air out of Maria and in that condition he could have finished the fight in any number of ways.
Maria changed tactics. She kicked out at his face. Michael had no choice but to grab her heel and lift up. This set her on her butt. Michael stepped back as she fell. Now, police fighting is not about being fair. Most realistic departments teach the dirtiest forms of fighting there are. In real life, there is no referee. The adversary goes down, you kick him, knee drop him or use any other thing, which will rapidly end this confrontation. In training, the sergeant would have been screaming to high heaven if the standing person didn’t show some sort of ending move, with his opponent down. Michael had tried to tell her that he didn’t fight anyone unless he didn’t like them very much. Knowing that he purposely did not follow through, infuriated Maria. She rushed Michael, all the men, standing along the wall, were almost embarrassed at her actions. They could see that she was not using any plan at all. That wasn’t the Maria they knew. Maria was now completely out of control. No one noticed that when she rushed him, his hands took on a slight glow. Using his powers, Michael paralyzed Maria as he also drew her to his chest. In her frustration at not being able to move, Maria cried. Michael slid down to the floor, still cradling her in his arms. As Michael sat there holding the sobbing Maria, the men filed silently out of the gym. Yes, almost all of them had made jokes about DeLuca. Most of the jokes were very raunchy. She was one of their own. Secretly, they were proud of Maria. Almost all of the officers also had planted a kiss on their fingers and transferred this kiss to the poster of Maria’s naked body in their lockers, a silent prayer that they would live through the day to gaze upon her, once again, as they prepared to go home. Maria’s breakdown was private. This was something they would never mention in her presence.
Michael moved into Maria’s apartment because he saw a side of her no one else did. With Michael, Maria didn’t posture. With Michael, she found that it was all right to cry, and cry she did. Isabel had greatly helped her, but when the adrenaline was down, Maria wondered how she held up after her session with Nicholas.
Michael also realized, that deep down, Maria had a fear of meeting Nicholas again, without preparation. She never wanted to go through that again. She thought of the many rape victims she had investigated. Their stories were enough evidence for Maria to know she never wanted to be raped in anyway, now or in the future.
Some might have asked had Little Napoleon met her Waterloo? She and Max were becoming inseparable. Knowing Max as a stickler for propriety and Little Napoleon as a perfect example of a woman cop showing no weakness, no one accused them of having gone to bed together. No one yet, had discovered Sean DeLuca’s blog.
That afternoon, Alex had already preformed his escort duty taking the two women not to the over crowded office of Lieutenant Parker, but to the conference room. Alex was turning over anything he found about the silver handprint murders to Little Napoleon. He had enough on his plate to not worry overly much about what was going on in her office. Surprisingly, he found that he enjoyed escorting Isabel and Tess across the detective office to where the rest were gathered. Instead of hanging around, Alex returned to his own office. Officers Smith and Lopez had turned in a report he needed to look at. They were within a hair of giving the district attorney enough ask for an indictment on Alfred Barlow, a major chop shop operator. Alex had looked at the Malo Brothers Chop Shop where Jimmy the Nose used to work. They might still be turning a stolen car or two, but since Jimmy and that candy cane Ferrari incident they had been pretty legit. Not so, Alfred.
Then there was that bank robbery; that was a federal case usually, but Detectives Rice and Ramon were following a trail of marked bills. Alex told them to be careful, but to follow their gut if the trail looked promising. They could apologize to the feds later.
Finally, there was that gray agent known only to Alex as R. Zapata. The last report he had made to Alex personally was that he was now being considered as a member of a group that had serious terrorist intentions. Alex should turn that one over to HomeLand Security. The local agent of HomeLand was a total asshole. Either he was a complete WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) against every one he did not see as part of white America or the perp could be Poncho Villa himself and the agent, James Cleveland, would declare him misunderstood. His constant changes showed that his Ivy League education had not prepared him for the people of the southwest. The man Alex had in place, if he didn’t get his ass shot away, was very canny. He knew the difference between dissidents who were looking to improve their lives and hoodlums who only wanted to destroy every thing. Alex worried every day about the safety of agent code named, Zapata. Even his unconcealed interest in Isabel Evantide could not completely divorce him from his duties.
If Parker needed help, she would call on him. There was a murmur within the department. Alex knew that signaled the end of the meeting called by Parker. The men were like that when Isabel and Tess were crossing the room. “Do you have time for coffee?” she a sked.
That voice could raise Alex from the dead. If rioters were burning the front door of the police building, Alex would manage to get the lady across the street to the coffee shop, “Yes,” he would have time. There were no rioters, so it was safe to go out the front door.
Alex had a woman on each arm, but when they got to the police entrance, Tess broke away. “You two go on. I have some reports to whip into shape,” she smiled.
Alex’s interest was clearly in Isabel, but he felt a twinge of guilt leaving her secretary waiting in the front entrance. Isabel just smiled. Tess was doing exactly what she had been told to do.
Alex was confused. His own background had created stumbling blocks in his social life. When Alex was back in school, his mother and his psychologist, both worrying about his social orientation had said, “Alex if you like girls, you have to take a chance. Be more aggressive. Put your self out there.”
Of course when Alex did take a chance, it was a girl he only knew as Liddy was sitting alone in the cafeteria, who became his target. Alex with a cup of coffee in hand, walked up and with his heart in his throat he asked, “Is this seat taken?”
Liddy gave him a smile that assured him, both his shrink and his mother had been right. She laughed at his comments. She had intellectual comments of her own on several subjects they discussed. In all ways, but one, she was the perfect girl. That one was walking up to their table. He was over six foot. His muscles had muscles, either he had a permanent hard on or he had a sock stuffed in his pants, his clothes were clearly not tailored for his passion. He leaned down and Liddy looked up. They engaged in a most passionate kiss and Liddy said, “Alex, I have to go. I had a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.” They left with Cro-magnon holding a firm grip on her ass. What had Alex been to her, those few minutes?
Now, a woman who belonged as a pin-up in any man’s room was asking for his company. Alex kept looking over her shoulder for Cro-magnon to return. They shared coffee, they shared stories, and they shared time. All the while Alex wondered what she wanted. Women like this didn’t go for geeks like him. Well, Alex hadn’t done too well with lady geeks either back in school.
Judy DeMills and Alex shared computer time. Their time was from Mid-night to four AM., this, was in the day when computers were a main frame that could only tackle one or two problems at a time. Judy was one of the few who could give Alex a run in programing, even if she was a woman, women having to fight for every step they got in technology. Judy was a very plain girl, even to Alex’s standards. Alex always prided himself with judgment in depth not superficial. Judy had been looking at him strangely for some time. One night, they had both set up their programs to be run and now they had to wait the hours until results were printed out. Alex was sitting on a revolving stool when Judy came up to him and sat in his lap. This was a Judy who Alex had not seen before. Her blouse was undone and she wasn’t wearing a bra. She fiercely began kissing him, her tongue probing his mouth as no one had ever done to him before.
Alex could feel the swelling in his pants. He didn’t know if he could contain it. Some unknown student had placed a couch in a corner of he computer lab. Perhaps he had a willing lab mate or in Alex’s mind, he had been a super stud, allowing Alex to have hope for himself. Judy led Alex to the couch in the dark corner. She pushed him down and Alex saw that magically she had dropped her blouse, her dress was lying at her feet and only in her panties, she was confronting him. From somewhere, Judy presented a condom. She stripped Alex of his pants and then, pulled down his boxers. Her hands on his privates as she applied the condom, almost caused him to go over the top.
Alex was never sure if they just fucked, or made love or he had been raped. This had been for Alex, his introduction to the world of sex. Alex did not love Judy in anyway. He was confused as to how he was to act. Later, when she did talk to him, her explanation did not help. “Alex, I just wanted to experience sex. You were there. Take what you were given and be content. Don’t see anything more into this.” With that, Alex did not see Judy DeMills any more. He always asked him self, was he sad or pleased? The only thing he felt about Judy, was confusion.
This was what he was feeling toward Isabel. What did this woman want? As they talked, Alex noticed that she leaned over, giving him clear sight into her cleavage and was holding his hands. For a time, Alex even forgot his fears for Zapata.
Kyle was walking through his squad rooms. He had been at a briefing with the uniform troops. They, essentially, were not his responsibility. The captain of the uniform squad was sick, so he asked Kyle if he would give the briefing before the afternoon shift went out. Kyle was in charge of the narcotics squad, the bunko or confidence squad, robbery and major crimes, with the aid of Lieutenant Whitman and with Lieutenant Parker, he inherited the Strange Case squad. Sitting on a bench in front of the main desk he saw that blonde woman. The one who had been with Isabel before. She was busily making notes on papers she had taken from her briefcase; Kyle touched up his hair with wet fingers and walked toward her. Kyle was not a man to let a piece of ass go to waste. “Anything I can do for you, Ma’am?” he asked.
Tess looked up at him and answered, “Not right now, but you probably will find something you can do for me in the future.”
Kyle was scratching his head, “Now, that is a reply I don’t think I have heard before. Care to explain?”
Looking at Tess, as she sat looking back at him, was unnerving. She had crystal blue eyes that looked all the way into his soul. Her skin was unblemished and lighter than most of the woman in the southwest. She was wearing red lipstick and nail polish to match. He was sure that her blouse was arranged to show the swell of her breasts. “Captain, I am more woman than you ever had and more than you will ever have in the future. Come courting when you are ready to accept me alone,” she commanded. About this time, Isabel and Alex returned. Tess stood, adjusted her skirt with a seductive twitch of her hips, and walked out with Ms. Evantide.
Kyle was looking confused, but Alex’s confusion came from being kissed lightly on the cheek, by Isabel. Alex was trying to categorize where she fit in his world. She was no Liddy and she was no Judy. Alex had googled Isabel Evantide the first time he met her. The Internet was filled with her affair with Grant and his infidelity to her. They had been together for some time and he went to a prostitute completely in the open. The paparazzi were steaming with pictures of him in bed with the hooker. Unless there was something Alex didn’t understand about Isabel, he couldn’t see why a man would leave her bed for that of a hooker. Now, Alex saw that his captain who had been talking to Isabel’s secretary was as confused as he.
Alex heard Kyle mumble, “That piece of tail claims she would be more than I have had or will ever have. There are millions of women in the world, how does she come off being that special? Kyle spoke to Alex. “Have you ever seen a woman for whom you would give up all others, lieutenant?” Kyle asked.
Alex looked at Kyle as if he hadn’t seen him standing there before, his memory of seeing the captain’s confusion, completely forgotten. “Yes, captain, I think I have.”
Isabel had been imprinted at conception to serve her refugee people. In the wisdom of some other-world alien science, she was allowed complete freedom as a member of the fast moving jet set. Yes, she knew a lot about men, she knew a lot about people. With the trigger of Max, her king, needing help, Isabel knew this former life would now, be shut down. She felt no regrets about this. For her, it was as natural as human children sheading their baby teeth. Again in some alien wisdom, she did not feel compelled to seek companionship among the elected leaders of humanity. As Max had branded that unknown human woman as his mate with a mysterious symbol, Isabel was busy planning the fate of the one she was going to choose. Part of her training of Tess was to consider whom she would direct her considerable sex drive towards. That hadn’t been defined, yet.
Michael had found police work when he was young in the military. He had carried this interest past his service and into the metropolitan nearby a major group of aliens. Michael had pulled his king along with him. At the time he had no reason, it was just, the thing to do. Then, Max was his friend, and not yet announced as his king. Max had risen in ranks faster than had Michael. Michael had no resentment; after all Max had money. Michael, now, didn’t ask himself where did the knowledge of Max being king come from? He wasn’t sure that he had known that at the time. He did what he was supposed to do.
Isabel found, that in Alex she saw intellect and other resources. Tess found her self, much like Liz at the first of the story. She had not been allowed to mingle with a large population. She wanted a person of power. She wanted a person of passion. Tess was not that tuned, at this time to the needs of her people. The detective captain was a candidate, only a candidate at this time, for this choice.
If this all seems not very romantic, it should be understood that human romance stripped of all its hype, is simply a mechanism to produce children and care for them. True, if the clones had ever returned to the pod chamber, which had ejected them long ago, they would have found a hum from a machine called the granolith. This alien machine was monitoring both the clones and the alien population. Its purpose was to make sure that the alien population survived and mixed with the human population. In an award for the protection of the aliens, humanity was offered genes of a progressive nature, maybe, far ahead of what they had developed through their own nature.
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 8, ch 17, Dec 11 201
Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 12:25 am
Oh, well, he still had the tapes. He would get even with her in his own way. Nobody threw Sean DeLuca out of bed.
On the crime board, the lieutenant kept in her office, at the top was a picture from the lab of a silver handprint taken while it was still bright. Below that was a picture they had obtained from José of the Brass Pole, of Nicholas. Beside this was a large question mark. Big Jim suggested that Nicholas might not be alone. Under this were listed two names, David Goldblum and Archie Miller, including the particulars the team had learned in their investigation. Ed Livingston’s name simply had the word beside it, “Revenge.” Unknown homeless man had only a question mark beside it. Names of the two students, Jack Towers and Jen Napolitano, were also listed with question marks. Liz hadn’t figured where they fit into this story. On the far side of the board, Liz had tacked an envelope labeled, “Me.” She had placed photos of her wound after Max fixed it. Under the “Me,” she had placed the names of the four clones. Liz thought she trusted Max, but being alien, was he that easily read? Donnie Richards’ name was also on the side of the board. Liz would not post in public what she really thought of him.
Max and Michael had been investigating several of the strip clubs in the city. “Lieutenant, Nicholas has been a regular at several of these places. He is known as a rich ‘john’ who is generous with his bills. Lap dances, bump and grind in his face all produce copious amounts of money. I am not as good as Isabel in mental power, but I think Nicholas has been mind raping these women, all along. He hasn’t hurt any of them like he did Maria. He wants to experience their memories and he is willing to pay for it. No one has noticed what he has been up to. That business with Becky Johanson was to rub our noses in it. He wanted us to know what he was doing to her,” Max informed Liz.
“Since he hasn’t physically harmed one of those girls, he really hasn’t committed a crime,” Liz replied. Then she continued, “So far he is just paying for what those women willing give. Why?”
Max shook his head. “I don’t know, lieutenant. Mike and I also hustled some of the fancy call girl establishments. Once we got past that we weren’t vice cops, some of the girls looked at Nicholas’s picture. I was able to talk to a couple of them. I wished I had had Isabel with me. I am just not that good. I think I did find evidence that Nicholas had been in their minds also. The girls said he wanted to sit and hold hands. With the lap dancers, Nicholas was able to contact their skin as he held them. With the call girls, his holding hands did the same thing. He asked them stories about some of their ‘johns.’ The girls, while talking to each other decided that Nicholas must be a writer and was searching for background in the lives of hookers. They all laughed at the prospect of seeing their stories in print, of course without any names.” Max was playing with a pencil at his desk. He suddenly broke it. “That damned Nicholas is not playing games. He is up to something and we just can’t see it,” he said as he slammed his hand down.
Alex was in a foul mood. He had received word from R. Zapata that the terrorist group, he was with, were planning a major snatch. Alex, again, cursed the civil service system, first, because they allowed an arrogant ass like James Cleveland to be promoted and secondly, because they sent him to the southwest, because those in Washington did not consider this part of the country important. Why didn’t they give a damn if the Southwest was invaded or not? Alex would have liked to turn over what Zapata had told him. Cleveland could not be trusted. To make a name for himself, Cleveland would have grandstanded, someway endangering both who ever was so unlucky to be the snatched and also, probably Zapata as well.
The rest of the detective squad was as usual. Captain Kyle stopped by once to check on ongoing investigations. Secretly, Kyle wanted to know if Isabel was expected in today. Well, not really Isabel, but where Isabel went, her secretary, Tess, went also.
Soon, Alex was totally wrapped up in affairs of the day. Teresa Haynes and her no good boyfriend, were finally caught in a stolen car. Not only a stolen car, but, they had several items from some home burglaries that the detectives had to look into. Two of Alex’s men were arresting a petty thief and he pulled a knife on them. They beat the shit out of him, so now, Alex had to contend with an excessive force charge against his men.
It was 3:00 PM when Tess phoned Max. “Isabel did not come home last night,” she declared in a worried voice. Tess had been searching for Isabel all morning, but none of the places she might be had seen her. Isabel had been giving one of her lectures last night. “Usually, I would have accompanied her, but Isabel wanted me to search for some information on the net. I finally went to bed and getting up this morning, Isabel had not returned. At first, I thought she might have picked up some guy from the lecture series; she has been nervous lately. Since I have come to live with her, she hasn’t had a date. Now, none of the usual places she might be, have seen her,” Tess explained.
6:00 PM that evening, the screaming started. Humans couldn’t hear it, but the entire southwestern alien communities felt it in their minds. It was so piercing that Max and Michael had to work to drive it from their conscious mind. By 6:30 PM, Tess was at the police station. “Lieutenant, Max, Nicholas has Isabel. That screaming is him torturing her,” she informed them.
7:30 PM Alex was sitting down to a TV dinner. The day had been busy and he was still worried about Zapata and his information. His doorbell rang. Standing in the doorway was Isabel’s secretary, Tess. Where Isabel would dress a little casual in her day-to-day affairs, Tess was dressed perfectly. Isabel had told him that for so long Tess had been badly treated that now she needed to put her self out as a fashion statement. She was a fashion statement all right, but she made things in a man’s groin do flip flops when she stood like that, her hands folded and her presence vulnerable. “Lieutenant, Isabel has been kidnapped. When we find her, she is going to need help. I don’t know if you know it, but Isabel has been developing a thing for you. You would probably be the best person to be with her when she is rescued,” she told him.
A thing for him? No, of course not. At least, Alex had not allowed himself to believe she was caring for him. What did this lady mean? This lady, who singlehandedly, filled the tabloids with fodder by her actions, having a thing for a geek lieutenant of a city detective squad. He didn’t think so. Liddy and Judy DeMills both assured Alex that Isabel only wanted to kill time with coffee and he was the closest one available. That she really cared for him? No, of course not. Alex grabbed his hat and his coat. He left the cardboard TV dinner on the coffee table. The cat, which had been driven under the bed by Tess’s voice, could have the rest of it.
Tess had returned home, at least Alex assumed she had. There was no one at the office at the time. The desk sergeant made a note to himself at Alex’s apparent worry. The sergeant was an old hand and he had learned to read his officers. Alex had several cases on the line and any one of them could explode at any moment. The sergeant also remembered that strange fellow who never allowed his face to be seen. That man had to be deep under cover. If he surfaced asking for Alex, the sergeant would call him immediately. There was nothing specific going on at the office, so Alex went back home. Everyone was causing him worry, tonight.
Robert Deveron, was a free lance photographer. That was a nice way to say he did everything from being an active paparazzi to occasional wedding pictures and other social occasions. The call was to be out on the street at exactly 9:00 PM if he wanted a headline picture. That was all they said. Robert took chances. That is the way he got ahead. 9:00 PM a car drove up. Not a word was said. His camera bag was yanked out of his hands, a black hood was placed over his head and he was shoved into the car.
When he was helped out, the hood still in place, he could tell by the echo of their footsteps that they were in a large building. Finally they arrived and the hood was removed. There might have been several people in the shadows, Robert couldn’t tell. There was a single light trained on a woman lying on a mattress. She was a tall blonde woman. Her figure was covered by a dark gray simple sleeveless dress. She was writhing in obvious pain. The mattress was covered by a gray sheet, it was all so utilitarian. At the side there was a pile of torn woman’s clothing. As she twisted and turned, her dress rose up showing lightly tan thighs. “Take all the pictures you want. Sell them where ever you can, but you must send a copy of each picture to this address by messenger tomorrow morning,” a disembodied voice commanded as someone placed a card in his pocket.
Robert moved around to take pictures. He was afraid that he had gotten mixed up in a “Snuff Session.” That was a series of pictures, usually of a woman, being murdered. Robert knew that pictures like that were high priced items. Robert had no intention of getting mixed up with something like that, but the only way out, seemed to be to comply.
As he clicked off the pictures from different angles, Robert hoped against everything that they were not going to make him photograph the actual murder. Then, it dawned on him. This wasn’t some street woman kidnapped for this session. This was Isabel Evantide, the nation’s favorite jet setter. Was he making pictures of her last minutes on Earth? Robert had attended one of her lectures to see if he could get anything spectacular. No such luck. Most of what she said was well known in the southwest. Let’s see, she had reportably broken up from a torrid love affair. Did this have anything to do with that? Robert wished he could help the helpless woman, but if he stopped taking pictures, a whisper from the shadows kept saying, “Take more!”
Finally, someone said, “Enough.” A hood again was slipped over his head and his equipment taken from him.
He was helped out of the car, he heard his camera bag dropped on the sidewalk and before he could yank the hood off, there was the sound of squealing tires and Robert never saw anything of the car. Robert hailed a cab and to his surprise, the address he had been given was the Police department.
Robert asked if he could leave some data for the detective squad? He handed the desk sergeant his data card and the pictures were sent to Lieutenant Whitman. Out of curiosity, the desk sergeant opened one of the pictures. He immediately came awake. “Sir, take a seat right over there,” he commanded. “I am sure the lieutenant will want to talk to you.” Could this be what was the bugging in the lieutenant earlier tonight? If this lady was in trouble, the whole force might be turned out.
Alex always hated phone calls in the middle of the night. They always spelled trouble. “Hey lieutenant, a subject just brought in some pictures of a crime scene. You know that fancy lady you have coffee with all the time? The pictures may be of her murder.”
Alex was wide awake and putting on his clothes. He speed dialed, Lieutenant Parker and informed her of what he knew. She, in turn, called in her team. Liz looked at watch as she entered the door of the Police Department. The desk sergeant pointed to a bench in front of his desk. Robert Deveron was curled up around his camera bag. “There is the guy who brought them in,” the sergeant said.
“Hey, fellow, wake up! I need to talk to you,” Liz said.
Robert followed the small woman up the elevator. As he walked out on the third floor, he handed his camera bag to Liz. “Is there a restroom on this floor? I have had one hell of a night.”
Liz took his bag and pointed to the detective lunch room. Robert almost ran to the door, marked “Men.” By the time Robert came out, there was only one office lit up. It was the conference room. Robert entered, finding Lieutenants Whitman and Parker along with Parker’s team and also a strange blonde lady. For a minute, Robert almost forgot what he was doing. Oh, he wished she would pose for a session. Robert’s fertile mind had already laid out a spread of the blonde spread out naked on a red velvet background, no such luck. She was tight with the department. No chance of her as a model on the side. The department printer was grinding as it spit out the pictures. It wasn’t a photograph printer, but it would have to suffice.
“She is not dead,” the blonde was saying. “If she was, we would feel it.”
Liz turned to Robert, “What can you tell me about this building? Do you know its location?”
Robert shook his head and explained how he got to where Isabel was held. “It was a warehouse, maybe, on the west side. I didn’t hear any trains or planes or anything.”
“How come they chose you?” Liz demanded.
“I don’t know,” Robert stated. “I think they just wanted any photographer.”
Max pointed to one of the pictures. “Her mouth is wide open, was she screaming?” He demanded.
Robert shook his head. “I heard moans, but no screams. Her mouth was opening and closing all the time I was there.”
“Do you know who she is?” Maria asked.
“Yeah, she is Isabel Evantide, that UFO speaker. I attended one of her lectures. She is also fodder for the paparazzi in all her love affairs,” he replied.
No one saw how badly Alex took that last statement.
“I am going to need the original card,” Lieutenant Parker spoke up.
“They said I could sell these pictures!” Robert exclaimed.
Liz shook her head. “No way! There is a reward if we can use the pictures to rescue Isabel. I will put your name in for a piece of that,” Liz stated.
Robert gave up his data card. He also included a business card and packed up his equipment. Liz called the desk sergeant and requested a uniformed car. “Mr. Deveron, a squad car will see you safely home. If anyone contacts you, call us immediately. They are very dangerous people,” she admonished.
As soon as Robert was out of the room, Tess picked up one of the pictures. “We have to find her as fast as possible. See this dress? It is a gown-shroud that Antarians use when they intend to execute someone. My genetic memory is filled with enough executions during the fall of the royals. There is something in my machine teaching that alludes to that also. Nicholas intends to execute Isabel,” Tess stated.
“What is Nicholas doing to Isabel in the meantime?” Liz questioned.
“He is using her to torture the aliens,” Max replied. “Every time she screams, it is her mental scream that all the aliens feel. Mike, Tess and I are having a very hard time holding it together when she does that. I imagine that when this is over, there won’t be many aliens who will thwart anything Nicholas wants to do. That is what Nicholas has been doing. He was studying those women to learn how he can cause great pain. I do not suppose he has even touched Isabel except to prepare her for her death. He is doing all of this in her mind.”
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 8, ch 18, Dec 17 201
Posted: Sun Dec 25, 2011 5:31 pm
Isabel had walked out of her lecture. She had hoped that there would have been an alien or two to talk to after the show. Many times, aliens who did not personally know her, would first attend out of curiosity then, sensing who she was, make contact after the lecture. No such luck. She would walk over to the street and hail a cab. Isabel almost felt something move behind her. Before she could turn, a bright light hit her. It may have been mostly light, but it packed quite a wallop.
Isabel woke up. She was lying on some sort of bed. Her clothes had been removed and a rough gray shroud had been pulled over her head. Moving her head slightly she saw a pile made of what used to be her clothing. It was all ripped and torn. She wasn’t shackled or anything, but she had limited movement. There may have been more people back in the shadows, but all she saw was the pimply face of Nicholas. That was the face and body that Nicholas had chosen to wear on Earth. It was a far cry from the soldier who was buddies with Kivar back on Antar. Around Nicholas, back on Antar, Isabel’s genetic memory remembered a continuous lust. That was absent from him now. Nicholas’s pubescent face turned into an evil grin and Isabel felt depression, hatred, rejection and a myriad of other feelings. Now, she understood what Nicholas was doing with the strippers and hookers. These were women who dealt with the lowest denominator of man. All their hours of emotions bundled up and shot through her mind in a matter of seconds. Isabel screamed. This continued through the day with periods of rest. Nicholas wanted her to last a long time.
Isabel was floating on a green cloud. She was above any physical feeling. She felt neither pain nor joy. The red sun was shining down. It felt warm on her tanned skin. The light of the red sun made her hands and arms glow with a health that was hard to attain on Earth. Isabel wanted to remain on the cloud. A slight breeze blew tendrils of cloud about her. It was like being on some photography set. There were flashes about her as the photographer walked around. Thinking about the gray shroud, Isabel wished they would give her time to put on something either more elegant or maybe, more sexy. Suddenly she felt something shaking her awake. The cameraman was gone. Again she was in some vast room where the light was only on her, in the shadows she was sure she had seen movement. All the pain returned. This time when Nicholas worked on her she screamed, but no sound came out. Her voice had failed after the last session. Somewhere, her lucid mind picked up, “That is what he wants. Only the aliens will hear me from now on. He wants to use me as an example for all the aliens. What he does to me, he can do to any of them.”
The day shift was almost over. Jimmy the nose announced to the desk sergeant that he wanted to talk to Dr. Strangelove. Even at the ten feet away from the sergeant’s desk, he was made to stand; the smell of acetone was over powering. “Get outta here, you stupid nose job,” the sergeant yelled.
Jimmy was shaking, but remembering Dr. Strangelove and those dental picks scared him more than did the sergeant. “Come on fellow. The doctor ordered me to find out more about sniffing,” he shouted.
Desk Sergeant Kevin O’Brian had taken the sergeant’s exam as soon as he had gotten out of his five year probationary. The administration expected him to take his lieutenant’s exam, but no dice. O’Brian’s father had been a New York City police sergeant. His grandfather had been a sergeant on the Boston city police. In dreams, Kevin imagined that his relatives had been police sergeants way back in Ireland, that is, if they had police sergeants. Kevin’s history was not his strong point. Desk Sergeant Kevin O’Brian really liked his boyos from the field. There was that Michael lad. A good proper name he had, Michael Guerin. Him as taking up with that gentry, fellow, that Evans boy. Kevin felt bad as did everybody else about that Donnie Richards lad. Now, that boy wasn’t police. He should have never been put out in the field. Kevin would shake his and murmur, “Now, dead, a saint he is. Yes, every boy in blue when he dies in the field is lifted straight to heaven by Saint Patrick himself.”
Kevin O’Brian had a definite theology. It was the same as his father’s. Kevin remembered his father’s saying, “Yes Kevin, my lad, become a policeman and go straight to heaven, whether you be a good Catholic lad, one of the Rabbi’s Jewish lads or even a heathen protestant. All lads in blue become angels when they get there.”
Now, this thing confronting him and stinking up his office just before quitting, was definitely not a thing of heaven. “You stinking glue sniffer, get the hell out of my office,” he yelled.
Several officers, preparing to go out in the field on the evening shift, had collected to see what had set the desk sergeant off so much. They laughed as the desk sergeant called the whole first floor his office. He saw you when you brought a perp through the door and, many a time, he witnessed the clumsy oaf as he fell down the steps coming up to the door and that is the way he told it on the witness stand. Your kid got sick at school; he was the one who demanded the radio room contact you. Your wife get a parking ticket, it was the desk sergeant who smiled and said, “Maybe, Mrs. Sanchez, we can call this a warning and how is Officer Sanchez doing since he made day shift?”
This morning it was serious. Sergeant O’Brian stood up from his desk and reached over to one of the officers collected around and took his baton. Remember, call it a baton. Call it a stick and you get 25 pushups. “On the floor rookie, give me 25 now.” All cops were trained to never think of it as a stick.
Jimmy stood his ground. He was frightened of this burly sergeant standing up and walking towards him, but he was terrified of that slender man in the suit who he had seen in the interrogation room. Jimmy had many ideas of what Doctor Strangelove would do with the dental pick. One of the officers spoke up, “Hey, Sergeant, maybe, he is talking about Evans up in the detective squad. I have heard his partner Guerin call him that sometimes.”
O’Brian turned, trying to figure who had spoke just then. His eyes fixed on one of the younger officers, he said, “Get this filthy rag pile up to the detectives, but use the rear elevator. I don’t want the captain or his father, the deputy chief, complaining to me about stinking up the elevator they usually ride in.”
When Jimmy entered the third floor, every detective looked up. Jimmy hated and feared the police. It had taken a pint of acetone and several minutes of deep breathing for him to build up his courage. Now, the odor had several detectives coughing.
Before Max or Michael could react, Liz stood up and walked over to Jimmy. “Come on fellow, lets sit over here and you can tell me what you want,” she said.
“Ah… ah… I need to talk to Doctor Strangelove,” Jimmy stammered.
“That is all right, Jimmy. I am Doctor Strangelove’s boss. Everything you tell him has to be brought to me, so… let’s cut out the middle man. You tell me directly and I tell Strangelove how well you cooperated,” Liz stated.
Jimmy thought several minutes. She said she was the doctor’s boss. He finally guessed it would be all right to talk to her. “Well, they killed Willy. They shouldn’t have killed Willy. Willy wasn’t much, but Willy was my friend,” he started.
“Who is Willy and who are they?” Liz asked.
“I told you. Willy was my friend. That silver handprint guy killed him. He hadn’t ought to have killed Willy,” Jimmy whined.
“Oh, was Willy that homeless man, found in the alley?” Liz inquired.
“Willy wasn’t homeless,” Jimmy cried. “He lived in that alley right across from me. Many a night, he would invite me over to his home to keep warm. We would split a paint can or even a half bottle of wine, when we could get it. He hadn’t ought to have killed him.”
Liz was about to understand the relativity of the word home. She certainly did understand the concept of friendship. “Go on, Jimmy do you have anything else to tell us?” Liz asked in a consoling voice as possible.
“He weren’t no sniffer, that’s a fact. We never hurts no body. We just want the freedom to sniff our way to heaven or sometimes we use something else if we gets money. That man and his friends are bad. They kills people for no reason,” Jimmy expounded.
Liz was frowning now. Jimmy wanted to tell something, but he didn’t know how to get it out. “How much do you know about these bad people, Jimmy?” Liz asked.
For the first time, Jimmy almost smiled. This was what Doctor Strangelove wanted to know. “Oh, I knows all about these people. They shouldn’t ought to have killed Willy,” he said almost boastfully.
Liz thought, Nicholas might be some sort of super alien, but he was an arrogant bastard. He killed what he considered a nobody, but Willy had at least one friend. That might be enough to bring Nicholas down or at least get in his way. Now it might be enough to find Isabel. “Tell me more about these bad people, so I can tell the doctor how much you cooperated,” Liz said softly.
This was a nice lady. She would face Doctor Strangelove. She would tell him how much Jimmy helped and the doctor wouldn’t want to use that dental pick. “Oh, I been following them ever since…” Jimmy halted. Thinking about Willy made him sad. Well, the nice lady said she would tell the doctor. Maybe, the doctor would use that dental pick on these bad people. “Yeah, I been following them everywhere. That young guy, he is the meanest. He go to those whores all the time. Most times, the rest of his gang just waits outside. I don’t guess he hurts the whores none. Most those places have mean bouncers. I guess he’s sort of a superman. He goes to two or three places a night. When I was young, I never could do that.”
Liz thought, when was Jimmy young, his rap sheet said he had been a junkie since middle school. Well maybe, he sobered up somewhere long enough to have a girl or two. Liz shook her head. It was surprising how a person could sink so low. Even that low, Jimmy knew about values. He knew that nobody should be allowed to kill his friend. Liz wondered, did Nicholas have that ability? Did Nicholas even understand the word friend? She and Max had killed several aliens when they rescued Tess. Nicholas had purposely set that up.
“Well, I guess he won’t be doing that no more,” Jimmy related.
“Why, Jimmy?” Liz asked.
“Cause he gots that fancy lady. You know her. She comes in here all the time. He gots her all spread out on a bed. Course, all she does is scream. I never seed him touch her. She just screams. Last time I saw her, she just moved her mouth. Guess she all screamed out, don’t you think?” Jimmy asked.
Liz worked to control her excitement. “Jimmy, tell us more. Where is this place where he has the fancy lady? Who all is there with them?” This might be what they had been waiting for. Who knew that killing Willy might lead to where he had Isabel? When this was over, Maria was a good Catholic and Liz would ask her to arrange a rosary for Willy. Liz might not be that sure of any religion, but she knew that somebody helped out now and then.
“Oh, it’s on the west side. Letters, W, H, T and something else written on the front. I can sketch a map if you want. Last time I was there, only one man was on the grounds. That kid-man don’t want to share the woman with no body. He run everyone else off.” Jimmy concluded.
Liz patted Jimmy on the arm. “Jimmy draw us a mao, then, you can go. The doctor will be really happy with you. Just don’t leave town. You should come back in a few days, you know, in case we need you and can’t find you?”
A tiny spark of lucidity came back into his eyes. “Ma’am, I so will arrange my affairs.” Then, the same slack jawed expression returned.
Liz walked back to her office with the map in her hand. “Hey lieutenant, you put on a good pony show yourself. What were you trying to convince Jimmy that you were, Mother Teresa?” Michael asked.
“I got results. I think we know where Isabel is.” Then, she turned to Max, “Just what do you intend to do with that dental pick?”
Max kind of grinned. “I hadn’t really figured that out. It does inspire conversation with the perps.”
Liz had piled five loaded magazines for her Glock on her desk. Last time, she had wondered if she had taken enough while they were fighting. This time, she also took out an ammunition box full of loaded magazines. She would have one of the guys put this in the squad car in case anyone ran out. She saw that DeLuca did the same as she, but Max and Michael had only taken the three extra magazines like Max had done before. They were aliens. Glocks were just backups for them.
Max spoke up, “Call Tess. I don’t want to rescue Isabel only to find she is a vegetable. We have to get Tess with her as soon as possible. Tess also said she wanted Lieutenant Whitman with us for some reason. With alien females, I have found that it is best not to argue.”
Liz couldn’t resist, “Probably works the same with human females, also.”
Re: Little Napoleon, AU, mature, CC, pg 9, ch 19, Dec 25, 20
Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 11:06 am
They arrived in two cars. Lieutenant Whitman volunteered to stop by and pick up Tess. Tess said little on the way. She mostly sat quietly, while tightly closing her eyes as if in pain. Half way there her expression changed and she said, “He is letting her rest. The pain will be down for a while.” Alex looked over at her in question. “Every time he hurts Isabel, all the aliens feel it. That is his reason for what he is doing. When he finally kills her, all the aliens will believe that he is invincible. None of them will go against him then,” Tess related.
“Do you think he is invincible?” Alex asked her.
“When I was his tool, I did think he was a god. Nothing could touch him. I have now, seen my king and Lieutenant Parker fight him and his followers. They made them retreat each time. I think he can be defeated,” Tess stated.
“About this king stuff. Who did he give his symbol to or what ever you call it?” Alex asked.
“I am forbidden to tell you. Only the chosen queen can make that announcement,” Tess answered.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex looked at her. It was only a glance as they were driving pretty fast on the late night streets, “Do you know?”
He saw her look down at her hands in her lap. “Yes,” she simply said.
“What happens if the person whom he gave the symbol to refuses it?” Alex asked.
“Then, she wouldn’t have been offered it,” Tess replied.
This sounds like the person has no free will.” Alex stated.
Tess looked at him. “What about you, Alex? You are driving as fast as you safely can to follow a king you do not believe in and support a woman who is clearly your rival, to save another woman you hardly know? Do you have free will? I hardly think so. We all do what we are supposed to do.” With that, Tess again became quiet. Alex saw that she had tightly closed her eyes and appeared again, to be in great pain.
Alex parked his cruiser beside that of Lieutenant Parker. He saw a gap in the fence. Parker was putting a heavy-duty wire cutters back beside the door of her squad car. Parker and DeLuca had light packs on their backs. He had put on his bulletproof vest before he had left his home. He assumed that Liz and Maria had done like wise. He wasn’t sure about the two aliens. That was strange, a few days ago he wouldn’t have found anything alien about his two best detectives. Liz spoke up. “Let’s have Tess wait for us here. She has the least protection.”
Liz was surprised. Max answered, “No, Tess is alien and can do all that Mike and I do, to protect herself. We need her to block the pain as we get nearer to Isabel.”
Liz shrugged. This alien business was still confusing. She longed to have a human killer in her interrogation room. One who had been roughed up by one of her detectives, threatening him with life in prison. That was something she could understand. Excessive force challenges were something she understood.
They entered the gap in the fence. Alex noticed a pile of dust slowly blowing away in the soft breeze. Alex didn’t yet know enough about aliens. The dust piles showed that Max or Michael had taken care of the guards on the grounds.
Liz and Alex led the way. They were followed by Max and Michael both casting their eyes on both sides. Tess was right behind them with Maria bringing up the rear. Liz trusted Maria. There wasn’t anyone going to sneak up from behind and ambush DeLuca. Once inside, the aliens all were having trouble. They were constantly shaking their heads and rubbing their eyes trying to keep them clear. One time, Tess stumbled and Max tenderly caught her. Liz thought, last time she and Max were with Tess, Max was very hard on her. Now, she was family. It was different. A fleeting thought ran through Liz’s mind. What if Tess was leading them into a trap?
Once inside the building, Liz saw that there was a hallway running around a central room. They approached a door with a small window. Liz risked a quick look. She saw a man with his back to them facing a platform, which had a body on it, moving and thrashing before him. Liz started to split them up, but before she could say anything, Max spoke. “The three of us have to stay here. Tess can just barely hold the pain down as it is. Any closer and I am not sure even Tess can keep us functioning. Maria should stay with us in case we all three fall. She, at least, can lend some diversion. You and Alex can hit him close up. We should go in five minutes,” Max stated.
This wasn’t the way Liz would have planned it, but Max was trying to make the best use of aliens. Alex placed shaped charges on the door. He had an electric detonator. Liz wondered how Max intended to open the door on his side.
There was a whoosh and the door on the far side of the room blew apart. Max and Michael were sending power blasts at the figure in the chair. Alex took out the detonator and Liz shook her head. She tried the door it was unlocked. Alex nodded and placed the safety back on his detonator. Liz opened the door and they both rushed in. Nicholas had set up a barrier between himself and Max. Maria was shooting at him, but her bullets were just sticking in mid air. Max and Michael were, likewise, shooting their power blasts, but they were sputtering out when they reached the barrier. Nicholas turned to do something to Isabel when Alex acted.
If Alex had taken time to think anything out, Nicholas would probably, with his superior reaction time, stopped him. After all, Alex was a mere human. Alex saw Isabel and threw himself at Nicholas’s back. Alex was considerably taller than Nicholas. Alex had no idea how strong Nicholas would be, so he had to be quick. His right palm was on Nicholas’s forhead and his fingers were probing Nicholas’s eye sockets. Something in Alex did say, “To hurt us he has to see us.” Alex was doing his best to make this impossible.
Alex had no idea how Nicholas breathed, but he did the human thing and was trying to close off his windpipe with his left. Trying to prefect his trigger control, Alex had spent hours on grip exercises. That and the hours he had always spent on a keyboard. Alex’s fingers were like steel.
Nicholas was so much stronger than he looked. He was twisting away from Alex when Liz came up and emptied her Glock into his body. Shooting as fast as she did was a sure way to get a jam in her weapon, but this time, the spirits who protected aliens was with her. Liz dropped the empty magazine, reloaded and shot again. Max and Michael, now free of both the mental pain from Isabel and the barrier down came running up with Maria. They all were trying to punish Nicholas. Wearing him down was all they could hope to do. Clearly, they were hurting him as he was weakening. With his last effort, Nicholas threw Alex over his head. Nicholas fled from the power blasts and bullets through the door. Just as he made the doorway, he started to turn. Alex reached into his pocket and triggered the detonator. The door blew against the crippled Nicholas. Yes, he got away, but he was severally wounded. Alex had been thrown on the mattress along side Isabel. Tess immediately was tending her mentor. Isabel had crawled into Alex’s arms and now was still. Tess checked her pulse and nodded, “She is still alive,” Tess announced.
Isabel was beyond knowing what was going on around her. The pain quit as it had done during so many rest periods. Isabel’s body felt something warm and safe beside it. Her body, of its own volition, crawled toward the something of safety. Like a baby cuddling in its mother’s arms, sensing safety and comfort, she crawled into Alex’s arms. Alex sat up and Isabel pulled herself into his lap. With her arms around his neck and his around her body, she was oblivious to the explosions and gunfire going on around her. The pain was gone, this must be a rest period. Her body, in the last few days, had learned how to cherish these brief respites from Nicholas. Cherish, do not question, that was a learned response from her ordeal.
Max and Michael helped Alex stand up with Isabel still in his arms. Without a word, Tess led Alex and his burden back to his car. Tess reached into Alex’s pocket and retrieved the keys. Alex’s mind did not even question the act of allowing a civilian to drive his squad car. Right now, Alex didn’t care. “Tess, do you think we should take her to the hospital?” Alex asked.
Tess vigorously shook her head. “Alex, there is nothing physically wrong with Isabel other than dehydration and fatigue. She is wounded in her mind.” Tess got very serious as she was watching Alex in the rear mirror. “Alex, we may need to talk about this when we get Isabel home. You need to ask yourself how serious are you about Isabel. A relationship with an alien is not to be taken lightly. It is true that Isabel was cloned from royalty, but she doesn’t have any sign or symbol to give a man. If she was to give you her heart, you have to make sure you have the desire and the willingness to accept it,” Tess commanded.
“Tess, according to the tabloids, Isabel has been in hundreds of relationships. Why would I believe I would be something special?” Alex inquired.
“Alex, those are by Earth standards. What Isabel would offer would be a relationship by her own standards. A relationship like that, she has never had,” Tess informed him.
Maria turned to Lieutenant Parker, “Chica, this alien warfare has its advantages; no bodies, no investigations, no evidence. This could put a whole new spin on criminal investigations,” Maria laughed.
Liz was a little more reserved. “Don’t forget that we hurt Nicholas. We didn’t kill him and we still haven’t brought anyone in for the silver handprint murders,” she reminded her sergeant.
Maria was a little taken back, but Maria had no intention of letting reality rain on her parade. “Well, all we have here is an empty warehouse. How about dropping me and spaceboy over there at my place? I think we have earned a sleep late tomorrow,” Maria stated.
Liz watched as she saw Maria and Michael walking arm in arm up the steps to her apartment. “Where to, Max?” she asked.
“Drop me off back at the station. I have some thinking I want to do,” he requested.
Liz drove. She had watched as Alex carrying Isabel, was driven off by Tess. Liz had no idea what they were going to do. Tess and Max both did not favor a hospital. Max explained that hospitals just didn’t know enough about aliens. Liz guessed that was true. She wondered when Alex would get back to work. He had several sergeants working under him. They could carry on the current workload without him for a while.
Liz had watched Maria and Michael walking up to Maria’s apartment. Was Liz jealous? To be true to herself, she had to admit she was. Liz hadn’t been in a relationship since that no-good cousin of Maria’s. Liz had felt so betrayed. Making those pictures and that sex tape in secret was just so wrong in her mind. She never would have allowed something like that if she had known.
More in the way of making conversation, Liz said, “So you are the king, Huh?”
Max had been thinking very intensely. “… Oh, ah, yes, it is not a ruling position. Isabel and I were created to keep watch over the Alien refugees. The old queen mother might have expected for us to rule, but that is all she knew. She had no idea of what it was like on Earth. Growing up, I decided that I didn’t mind helping my people, I just never wanted the responsibility of rule. Hey, we have aliens with the ‘Tea Party,” as well as with the far left Democrats. The royals making it to Earth have embraced democracy,” he explained.
“What is this symbol stuff? You seemed unsure of it when Tess was talking about it. Also, what is your relationship to Tess? It seems she was created for you, by someone,” Liz inquired.
“As a king, I have a symbol. It is partly genetic and partly physical. If and when I decide to take a mate, no matter by what custom I would do this, this symbol will be given to my mate,” Max explained.
“If I understood Tess, the other night, this symbol has already been given. Did you do that?” she asked.
“Not consciously. Remember, we are aliens, not every thing we do is done consciously. Some things happen. I am still trying to understand myself by human standards. I am not sure how this other thing works,” Max stated.
“You mean you did not have a choice in who you gave the symbol to?” Liz again inquired.
Max looked perplexed, “No, … I had free choice. I didn’t give the symbol to Tess. If I had given it to her, I would have been under her spell and the aliens led by Nicholas would have led a revolt against Earth. I really do not think they would have won. Nicholas hasn’t ever understood Earth. I gave the symbol to an Earth woman. I did not know it at the time.”
“Was she the woman of your choice?” Liz asked.
“The more I learn of her, I am sure she is the one of my choice,” Max replied.
Liz let Max out at the station. She was going to head home and catch as much sleep as she could. Maybe, she was too tired, but what Max just said didn’t make a lick of sense. Liz watched as Max walked up to the station. In her mind, he turned around and coming back, he told her to scoot over and let him drive. Liz looked up into his eyes, as he drove the squad car to his home.
Just then, Liz woke up. She had drifted off sitting in front of the station. She had no business thinking that way about Max. He was a borrowed detective who worked for her. He was engaged if she understood any of that symbol bullshit. Shaking the cobwebs out of her head, Liz drove home. Truth was, she was very tired.