Little Napoleon Part 2 (AU,CC,MATURE) COMPLETE - 1/19/13

Finished stories set in an alternate universe to that introduced in the show, or which alter events from the show significantly, but which include the Roswell characters. Aliens play a role in these fics. All complete stories on the main AU with Aliens board will eventually be moved here.

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg4, ch10, cc, 6/18/12

Post by ken_r » Sun Jun 24, 2012 10:23 pm



Chapter 11

Doctor Smith waited at the door as her eyes accustomed themselves to the light. Luigi, himself walked over to her and said, “Can I help you ma’am?”

Doctor Smith looked at him and replied, “I am looking for Lieutenant Parker. I am supposed to meet her here.”

Luigi smiled and took her by the arm. “Please let me lead you to where the lieutenant is waiting.”

Luigi pulled back the curtain and presented the Doctor to the two in the room. “Your majesty,” Rosyln said with a slight bow. She then turned to Liz and said, “Is it still Lieutenant?”

Liz was slightly embarrassed. “I prefer Liz, if that is all right,” she said.

“Of course,” Doctor Smith replied. Then, she turned to look at Luigi.

“Can I get you folks anything?” Luigi asked. “If not, I will leave you to your conspiracies.” And, he quickly left.

Roslyn looked at Liz who replied. “Don’t worry about Luigi. He has many reasons to be loyal to the police department. He won’t let anyone bother us.”

Doctor Smith placed her bag on the table. From it she took a small box. “We cleaned this up before we knew what it was,” she said placing a small medallion on the table. Liz reached out and held the medallion. It was extremely heavy for its size. Doctor smith continued, “It isn’t gold nor any metal found on Earth or probably on Antar either. Who ever made it knew how to collapse molecules. I was on one of the last ships to leave Antar. At that time, any knowledge of how this might be done had been lost.” The doctor took the medallion from Liz’s hand. “The design is well known. What you might call the whirlwind galaxy dominates the night sky, on Antar.” Smith pointed to the flattened bottom of the design. “This part of the galaxy is always below the horizon as seen from the palace of the king. For centuries, this has been the royal symbol. Of course, I have always known of the symbol, but this is the first time I ever saw one of the fabled medallions. The Queen Mother shunned the symbol. I wonder how her clone got her hands on this one.”

Max spoke up, “This about clinches the identity of the remains. The life remains of Margret Herrera Olson ended here. We know that, she was executed by a faction at a village east of the mountains. The village did nothing to stop the execution, but when they heard that the three royal clones had arrived, they forced the rogue faction to take the remains elsewhere. They had no idea that it would be over twenty years before the royal clones would be quickened to be born.”

Doctor Smith reached into her bag and drew out a manuscript. She handed it to Liz. “This is a history of many of the queens of my people. Since the granolith picked you, we felt you might like to see what the lives of some of your predecessors were like. You will find that many of them were wonderful and powerful women. There also were some not so good, as was the queen mother at the fall of the monarchy on Antar. The machine is always right in who it picks. Sometimes, the chosen do not rise to follow the correct path. The machine is always there for advice. Some choose not to listen,” the doctor stated.

After the doctor left, Max and Liz sat talking. “Liz, we know who the remains belong to. We now have a better idea of what eventually, will happen to the four clones. We know of an enemy, maybe even bigger than Nicholas in the rebel villages. I wonder if we will ever know who actually killed Margret Olson?” Max stated as he drew designs in coffee with his spoon on the table.

“Maybe, we could consider this case closed,” Liz suggested.

Max looked up and said, “Except for, who shot at us near the village up north? I don’t think it was aliens. Was the shooting related to this case or have we missed something altogether? Are there humans someway associated with the dissident aliens?” Max asked questions that were also, bothering Liz.

As they walked out, Liz from the habit of being with a well-dressed man to whom she was growing close to, took Max’s arm. Lieutenant Parker was a good cop. She also was a strong woman, except for that one vulnerability of letting her self be in a romantic relationship that went bad. She still had visions of how she had let Sean DeLuca get that close to her and how he had hurt her so badly.

At the door, they stopped to speak to Luigi. “Thanks, Luigi, we needed a place to meet that woman and the office is not as friendly as it should be,” Liz said.

“I completely understand, lieutenant,” Luigi replied.

One of the down sides of living on the desert is the sudden weather changes. The sun had gone down some time ago and now a cold wind blew across the valley and hills. Liz had been wearing one of her sleeveless blouses and a relatively short skirt. A few hours ago in the almost 100 degree sun, she had welcomed her choice of wardrobe. Now, Liz was obviously cold. Max stopped to offer her his jacket. As they stood in front of the restaurant and Max adjusted the jacket on the shivering Lieutenant, Liz suddenly fell. It felt like a sharp needle just above her left breast. Liz, involuntarily, reached to touch the place of irritation and felt wetness.

Max tried to catch Liz as she slumped while he erected a green shield. Whatever happened was so small that it didn’t disturb the air enough for him to have sensed it. Max was now down on one knee supporting Liz tightly against his chest. Max heard several sizzling sounds as something burned itself out on the shield. Suddenly there was another shield as detective Modek stepped up. Momentarily, he dropped his shield as he opened a path following backwards the bullets that were burning themselves out on Max’s shield. Into this path, he dumped a considerable amount of energy. The energy streaked to the roof of a nearby building. Suddenly, there was a crack and Max could see a small explosion on the roof across the street. “Selenas will be there shortly. Maybe he will find something,” Detective Modek said.

“I’ve stopped the bleeding, but I have to get her somewhere I can repair the damage. I can’t do it here on the street,” Max stated. As Detective Modek helped Max get Liz into Max’s police car, they both heard somewhere off in the distance, the sound of a car hauling down the street. Whoever had shot Liz was getting away, but Max knew that his first chore was to repair the wound.

As Max drove the wounded Liz to his apartment, Modek joined his partner Detective Selenas. “This guy was a pro,” Selenas stated.

“This receiver looks like it belongs to a 22 target rifle, but look at the sound suppressor on this thing. No wonder we didn’t hear anything,” Modek stated.

“Yeah and if the pellet was kept below the sound barrier, there would have been almost no disturbance in the air to sense,” Selenas said. They were looking down at the smoldering ruins of what appeared to have once been an expensively crafted assassin’s rifle. They both knew better than to try to look for any identifying marks on the weapon. Things like this came out of the back door of factories at the order of very hush, hush organizations.

“Do you think the Fed that the captain warned us about has anything to do with this?” Selanas asked.

“I don’t know, but I think any report we make, better be to the captain only. You know how tight Lieutenant Swartz and that Fed have been getting lately,” Detective Modek suggested.

Max drove Liz to the delivery entrance of his apartment building. This building had a doorman and was considered secure. The lock at the delivery door was no problem for Max and his molecular manipulation. The alarm went off, but by the time security arrived to check the now relocked door, Max was almost up the service elevator to his floor. The security guard made a note that the alarm had gone off, but nothing seemed disturbed. The camera failed to register anything.

Liz was now stabilized. The bleeding internally and externally had been stopped. Max was initializing the heeling process. He did take time for a quick call to Michael. “Hey, Mike, yeah I know what time it is. Liz has been shot. Call Isabel and Tess and get over here to my place. Have Maria go by Liz’s place and get several changes of clothes. I am going to keep Liz here until she gets her strength back,” Max said wearily.

When Isabel told Alex that Liz had been shot, He dressed almost as fast as she did. He remembered that there was a time when he almost wished he could shoot Little Napoleon, himself. After working with her so closely, he considered her a friend as well as one of his officers. Kyle had no intention of letting Tess go out without him, so now they had quite a group to present themselves to the night desk manager. The poor man shrugged as he saw so many badges flashed. He knew that Evans was a cop and he had seen Guerin there before. Now, this whole group was heading up to Evans apartment.

Liz woke up. Something terrible happened last night. Now, she remembered, she died. Where was she? Liz saw blinds pulled and she could see light shinning behind them. Liz was in the middle of a large bed between what she thought were satin sheets. Later, she was to learn that they were silk. Liz found herself dressed in a nightgown. How did she get here? She did have a sharp pain in her chest. Liz lifted the top sheet and looked down at her chest. It was slightly puffy and when she touched her chest she found the skin very tender. Lying across the foot of the bed, Liz found a housecoat. She fingered the material, it was made out of the same stuff that the sheets were. She swung her feet off the bed and they didn’t quite touch the floor. Looking down, she did see a pair of house shoes. They were of much better quality than anything she had ever worn. Liz slipped on the shoes and pulled the housecoat around her. Usually when she slept, her Glock was nearby on the nightstand. Looking around there was nothing familiar about this room. Liz was beginning to wonder where were any of her clothes. She hesitantly walked toward the door. She could hear someone moving around in the other room. Liz opened the door and carefully looked out. Max, wearing light colored linen slacks and a polo shirt, was pouring coffee. When he saw her at the door he reached for another cup. “How do you like your coffee, Liz?” he asked.

Liz sat down. As of yet, she hadn’t said anything. Max placed a cup before her and taking a tray of sweeteners he placed it, also, on the table. There was a small pitcher of crème fraiche in the middle of the table. Max poured the coffee and asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Max what happened?” Liz asked. “The last thing I remember was that I was dying.”

“Liz, we had a close call, but the queen can not be allowed to die that easily. I brought you to my place. We solved Margret Olson’s secret, but there is someone out there who wants you dead and they are not alien,” Max said.

“Max, where are my clothes? How did I get dressed in this gown and wake up in that bed?” Liz asked.

Maria, Tess and Isabel cleaned you up and dressed you. Your clothes will probably have to be destroyed. We want to wait and see if there is any evidence on them first,” Max explained.

“Max, what happened to the medallion I had in my hands last night?” she asked.

Max walked over to a closet and reaching in the pocket of the suit coat he was wearing last night, (a coat that had blood all over it,) he retrieved the medallion. “The manuscript is also over on the couch. I have been reading it. The granolith is said to not make mistakes, but aliens are a lot like humans in that they don’t always listen or follow good advice when it is given,” He informed her.

Liz looked down at her nightgown and housecoat. “Where did these come from?” she inquired.

“I was going to offer you a long tee shirt of mine, but Isabel said that no queen of hers was going to sleep in such. She brought the nightclothes. Maria did stop by your apartment and bring you several changes of clothes,” Max explained.

“Several changes, Max. How long do you think I am going to stay here?” Liz exclaimed.

“Liz, I would like you to stay a couple of days. There are some things we need to clear up before you are seen out and about. Liz, someone tried to kill you and it wasn’t just some perp who was pissed off. This has all the marking of a professional hit, governmental in quality. Modek and Selenas are looking into it. It is just for a day or so. We need to know where to look for the bad guys. No alien would do something like this. Even the rebel aliens would not attack the queen with human weapons. It would be too foreign in their character,” Max stated.
Last edited by ken_r on Tue Jul 03, 2012 10:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg4, ch11, cc, 6/24/12

Post by ken_r » Tue Jul 03, 2012 10:54 am




Chapter 12

Maria and Michael were sitting with their morning coffee. Maria was sure they ought to make an appearance at the office, if for no other reason to keep Swartz out of it. “Do you think this will convince Liz to get closer to Max?” Maria asked.

“You know Liz better than anyone else. The alien community doesn’t understand completely why she is so slow to accept him anyway,” Michael said almost automatically.

Maria was studying him. There was something bothering him badly. “It is the feeling of entrapment that scares Liz. She is asking her self about free choice and why did the machine choose her when she had never heard of aliens or smart machines before we all got wrapped up in fighting Nicholas,” Maria replied. She was not sure that Michael had even heard her. It was almost like she was talking to herself or, maybe, one of those artificial intelligence answering phones.

Michael looked at her as if it had been the first time he had seen her this morning, regardless that they had been sleeping together for some time. “Maria, why haven’t we gotten married?” he asked her as if they hadn’t been talking about something completely different.

“Why Michael, I thought we agreed that if we were officially married, the department would probably split us up. They frown on spouses even working for the same department, much less as partners,” Maria explained something she thought they had laid to rest long ago.

“Maria, you know, Liz could have been killed last night. There is a new enemy out there. It is bigger than we have faced before and if it kills Liz before she and Max even become a couple much less she takes on the official mantle of being queen, relations between aliens and humans, legal wise, will be in complete limbo. I am not that important, but if one of us gets killed, the remaining one will have no part in any legacy we might have. Maria if we are married and something happens to me, the alien community will accept their obligation to protect you. If there is something this big out there, human protection might not be enough,” Michael explained.

Maria sobered up quickly. So this was what was bothering Michael this morning. He was facing some mortality issues. Maria couldn’t help but ask, “Michael, what would happen if I was killed?”

“Maria, I would always be the man who never bothered to marry his one true love. Maria, I don’t want that feeling,” Michael responded.

Maria took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Well Michael, let’s make sure that neither of us gets killed, okay.”

Michael gave her a half smile, “Yeah, but I don’t think Whitman or Valenti would allow our being married to change our positions in the department,” he concluded.


Captain Whitman was well aware that the two detectives in front of him were alien. It had been his alien wife who had suggested them. Now, they were making a report about Lieutenant Parker getting shot. “Capt’n those bullets came out of nowhere. No sound, no disturbance in the air, no chemical signature that we could detect anywhere. She got hit by that first one and Evans erected a barrier. I got there as fast as I could and added my barrier to his. There were follow up shots, again coming out of nowhere. This time, I was able to open a path back to the shooter. I let loose a medium power burst and something on a roof across the street went bang. I helped Evans and Selenas went looking for the shooter. We heard a car bad-assing down the street, but we didn’t catch no one. Have you seen Agent Shellow this morning?”

Alex nodded, “Yes, he didn’t look too chipper.”

“Look, capt’n I haven’t fought humans enough to be sure, but I think Shellow is badly burned and I bet those burns were caused by my power blast,” Modek affirmed.

“Could be, look, until further notice you two are on Lieutent Parker’s team,” Alex command. He watched as the men nodded. It wasn’t a long time ago when putting men on Little Napoleon’s team was almost a death sentence. Now, the chance to get away from Lieutenant Swartz made a trip to hell seem like a vacation.


Swartz was in a foul mood. The day started out in the toilet and was continuing with everyone trying to flush the handle. On his desk, when he came in that morning was a paper informing him that Detectives Modek and Selenas, until further notice, would be working for Lieutenant Parker. As far as Swartz was concerned, little Napoleon already had three of his detectives stolen away from his squad. Now, by orders signed by the deputy chief, he had lost two more. The worst thing about it was that even though he privately did not like working with men named Modek and Selenas, (definitely not good American names,) they were the hardest working detectives he had. When Whitman had been running this squad he had commanded 30 prime detectives.

Before Swartz even was given his roster of men, Evans and Guerin had been transferred permanently to Little Napoleon. According to records, the best vice cop had been DeLuca and there she was as second in command to that ridiculous squad. Swartz had restructured his squad. He placed men who he thought would be loyal to him as team leaders. This caused five detectives to immediately resign and laterally transfer to work for the county. Swartz now had 20 men and is was rumored that at least three of those were talking to either the county or to a private security firm. Arrests were way down and Captain Whitman had threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t find some way to get his men motivated. Swartz had called his team leaders to meetings, but even he knew that they were not the sharpest nails in the board. Every time he mentioned going against Little Napoleon, the administrators were solidly backing her or they were terrified out of their minds at going against her. Swartz had tried as hard as he could, but he couldn’t find out whom she was sleeping with. Every one admitted that she had a lot of grease and grease was what made departments work. No one knew where her grease came from or who was her rabbi. There had been one spark of light this morning. It had been rumored that she had been shot last night. As far as Swartz was concerned, getting shot couldn’t happen to a better gal. She would be gone a while. Only Sergeant DeLuca and detective Guerin would be in the office until further notice. Maybe, just maybe, Swartz could get Little Napoleon moved out of that office and when she returned, it would be a fact accomplished, a lot more difficult for her to move back in.

Swartz marched into the corner office and in a loud voice he shouted, “Get your stuff, DeLuca and start moving. I am taking over this office. I need more room.”

Maria looked at Swartz with daggers coming from her eyes. She wasn’t as scary as that wife of the chief, Tess Valenti, but Maria was ever much as stubborn as had been Little Napoleon herself. “Fuck you, Swartz, in a couple more days, you will probably loose another five officers and then you will have plenty of space. We might even considering taking part of your office,” she said.

Then, Swartz did the unthinkable. Maybe, you can lay it to ignorance. Maybe, you can lay it to an uncontrolled temper. Maybe, you can lay it to the fact, that deep down, Swartz was a dumb shit. Swartz touched Maria without a hundred dollar bill in his hand. The rest was reflex. Swartz found himself sitting on the floor with three fingers of his offending hand broken. With Swartz’s distain for women, there was no one who he could go to crying. He had to suck it up and go looking for the first aid kit to splint his hand.

As Swartz was bandaging up his hand, Agent Shellow walked in. Agent Shellow looked as bad as Swartz felt. The right side of his face and his right arm were badly burned. For a minute, Swartz forgot his own pain. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked.

“Aw… I had something blow up in my face last night. By the looks of you, you aren’t that much better,” the agent said.

Swartz knew that Shellow had tangled with something. “Oh well, we all have our own crosses to bare,” Swartz thought. He would have loved to take a complaint to the chief about what the sergeant had done to a superior officer. To let it be known that a girl had bested him was not something he was ready to admit. That damned Guerin had been with her. Give Guerin an excuse and he would probably blab everything all over the place.

At least one bright thing had finally appeared. Swartz was going over the reports of his officers who had been detailed to follow individuals described in the folder he had gotten from Simon Ortiz. With a little more follow up, Andy was sure he would be able to make that big bust. That would shut up the captain and also make the chief look at him in a different way. Maybe there was someone who liked Swartz after all. With so few cases generating paperwork, Swartz had plenty of time to plan his next move.


Max was back at the office talking to Valenti and Whitman. Liz, left on her own for a portion of the day back at his apartment, had been reading the manuscript. It was slightly after noon when the buzzer rang and the doorman said, “Mrs. Whitman is coming up to see you.”

Liz was sure that the aliens were watching over her carefully. She did look forward to seeing Isabel because she wanted to talk to someone badly. Maybe, it wasn’t talk to someone as much as for someone to listen as Liz sorted out many things in her mind. Isabel gave Liz a warm hug in greeting, being careful not to hurt her sore chest. “Liz, the pain should be gone by tomorrow. Max is blaming himself for not stopping the bullet. With an ordinary assassin, any alien would have sensed the bullet coming at you. Max is especially tuned to you, but that weapon had been made especially for this purpose. It not only was silent, the movement of that small of a bullet disturbed the air even less than some night bird flying by. Who ever designed the weapon knew a lot about aliens,” Isabel said.

“Isabel, I have been reading a lot about past queens. They almost always were from foreign places to the Antar kingdom. Even Tess’s clone, who had been the queen mother’s choice, had been brought from a far place,” Liz stated.

“Yes, the queen has always been chosen to bring new ideas to the ruling class. Sometimes, like the queen mother, the choices do not work so well,” Isabel mused. Then, she said, “I wonder if our donors had undergone any royal wedding. Had the donor for Tess named, I believe, Ava, ever been accepted by the machine. If she had only the support of the queen mother, that might have contributed to the fall of the kingdom. It was seen that the granolith moved itself out of the reach of Antar quickly after that. It was also seen that when the clone of the queen mother’s choice arrived on Earth, the machine quickly chose another, that was you,” Isabel said.

“I like Max a lot, but do I love him? Am I willing to marry someone I am not sure I love? I got into a relationship with someone I loved, but who didn’t love me and it has turned out badly,” Liz explained.

“Max only knew you from what the other cops said, until he joined your team. By the time he called me for help, he was changing what he thought of you. My love life was vast and wild. Neither of us really knew what we were at first. The two of us, along with Michael, knew we were different. We figured out we were aliens only after a lot of study. I was a more outgoing than Max. I met our people long before he did. At first they let us believe that we all three were just emissaries between human and aliens. It was after we found Tess that Max learned about the kingship. That was when we learned more about our history. The years Tess had growing up were filled only with study. We taught her reality and social skills and she taught us about our past. That was when something in my programing told me to change my life. I dropped the fast life and looked around for a suitable intellect to love. I first just liked Alex, then, it ripened into love when I had been captured. No one had ever cared for me like he did. I understand that a lot of what he did was instigated by Tess.” It was a long narrative, but Isabel thought Liz ought to think about what love was. Isabel knew all about Sean and the fact that he betrayed his love for Liz. Liz had to understand that Max would never betray her.

Liz did think about this. Sean did sweep her off her feet. He made her feel that she was his own special one. He did betray her. “Isabel, what is love and what is being in love?” Liz finally asked.

“Liz, there was a time when the tabloids said I was in love with a different man every month. I had a different man in my bed almost every month. I made love or at least I told my self that it was more than just screwing. Just having sex was for animals. We were doing this because we cared for each other, at least a little bit. Caring became a lie when we inevitably broke up. When I returned to help Max, something in my programing told me to find something lasting. There were no regrets in my background of lovers, but I wanted someone new. When Alex launched himself against Nicholas without even knowing how dangerous that was, I think I was beginning to fall in love. Crawling into his arms was strictly instinctive. My mind was so numb at the time. Alex represented safety and that was what I needed most at the moment. Later, Tess told me what she said to Alex. She told him that I was looking for an alien relationship. He was worried about the beach boys, my former lovers, coming back. He believed that when I healed, I would have no more use for him. The second night I showed him how badly bruised I was. I asked for him to cleanse me of all others. When we made love, it was more than an act of sex, not quite the act of creating children, but it was the act of coming together. When Alex rescued me the second time, what more did I want? I saw Alex for what he was. He was someone who would always care for me. Liz, for me, that is love,” Isabel finished.

Liz sat thinking for several minutes. “What do I look for in Max? He did protect me when we were in the semi trailer. It was later that I had a dream and Max was in this dream. My dream was about my growing up. In reality, many unfortunate things happened. In this dream, when bad things happened, Max was there to hold me. The reality has been that when bad things happen now, it is your aliens who are always there to save me, always with Max at the center,” Liz informed Isabel.

“Someone who always put themselves out to protect you. Liz, that might, by some, be called love,” Isabel said.
Did you ever think your dreams were real? read Warrior Chicks of Aswam

This time they are looking for Liz. Why? Murder on the Rio Puerco
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg4, ch12, cc, 7/3/2012

Post by ken_r » Mon Jul 09, 2012 9:51 am

begonia9508: You are right. Little Napoleon does't believe in love, at least for herself. To be queen draws many bad things to Liz. She is already queen so the alien community always comes to her aid.

keepsmiling7: couples living together when one of them goes to war face similar circumstances. if one dies, the remaining one has no benefits. Michael feels that if something happens to him, Maria should have the support of the alien community. if something happens to Maria, then Michael lives on knowing he never made Maria a part of the most important part of his life.

Chapter 13

For what he was planning, The SWAT (Special weapons and tactics) team would have been the ideal group to use. Chief Kyle Valenti had never let loose of his connection to them. Valenti trained theses men and he worked out with them everyday. To Tess, one night as they lay in bed, Kyle admitted, “Tess, they keep me from getting soft and flabby. I don’t care if I am deputy chief, I am a cop and I want to always be able to perform as a cop.”

That was what Lieutenant Swartz wanted to avoid. Let SWAT in on what he had planned and you let Valenti in on it, also. Swartz didn’t want to share this collar with anybody. The equipment was there and every cop trained at least once a year in its use. Swartz would form a team of detectives and they would handle everything. He would make sure that they, were led by detectives loyal to him and no one would be stealing his glory.

Police departments were hot beds of gossip so, Swartz told the selected officers that they were going on a bust, but he told no one of the details. George Johnson and Jerry Sanchez had lost their partners to the depredations of Little Napoleon. Swartz was not about to pair these two losers together, but they would do for sergeants under Swartz’s command. They were sergeants who would do exactly what Swartz told them to.

Swartz was now left with 18 men. If you remove the ones who were sure to quit in the next few days, he was left with 15 detectives. For various reasons, mainly because he didn’t trust many of the detectives left, Swartz chose 12. He would form three teams of four men each under himself, Johnson and Sanchez. He was careful to not choose any men who were also on SWAT. He was sure that any SWAT members would go straight to the chief. This was Swartz’s deal. There was no room to share glory with the chief.

The folder that Simon Ortiz had given him had paid out. Swartz with brilliant as he saw it, planning had followed the leads in the folder until he had a fairly strong belief that he knew where a major drug ring would be cutting their coke, getting ready to run it on the street. He had three warehouses located that he was sure would have perps and evidence enough to make him a hero.

Not since the shoot-out taking Nicholas down, had the warehouse district been disturbed by this much gunfire. When SWAT had hit the place where Nicholas had imprisoned not only the king and his future queen, but Isabel and Tess also, there had been a light show, put on by the alien posse and also, Kyle’s SWAT shooting the shit out of everyone who tried to get away. It was over and everyone returned home with no sirens. This time hitting three different locations, it seemed that the whole west side had been invaded. The gunfire had not even died down when the ambulances began arriving.

The 1960s had been a time of extreme turmoil in the United States. The police were still coming to grips with Miranda. Miranda, a nondescript felon had his conviction reversed by the Supreme Court because he had not been advised of his rights. This was to change the American Police forever. Miranda had been a serial rapist. He, finally, was convicted a second time with the Miranda rights preserved. Miranda, himself, was killed later in his life and with the rights preserved for his killer, the killer was out on bond when he fled to Mexico. No one, probably worked very hard on this case, but the killer was never found or tried.

As the police were coming to grips that they could still make convictions without a rubber hose in a dark room, the riots started. Why did people riot? They rioted for any excuse possible. They rioted if someone got arrested for being drunk. They rioted to show the political parties they were dissatisfied. They rioted because getting into a rock concert was too expensive.

The first confrontations were brawls. They were not much better than the Pinkerton strike breakers of the late 1800s. Police are not in the business to fight fair. Police are in the business of going home safe. Riot training was born. At first every police officer was given the training, but it was quickly found that not all police officers made good riot cops. Riot cops were aggressive, in the best physical shape possible and doing this because they wanted to. In New Mexico, the first State Police SWAT team was composed of the best bar fighters in the department. They were trained, given special equipment, made extensive use of police armor and brought in to quiet the disturbance, then, quickly get out of town.

Special Weapons and Tactics teams, did not learn their craft by watching cop shows on TV. Swartz, in his fear of letting the chief know what he was doing, kept any of the SWAT officers out of the loop. To his credit, Swartz did lead his team. He was the hero, in his eyes, who led the charge. Not so, Johnson or Sanchez. They knew that they were no heroes. They were swept along with the adrenalin rush of the rest of their teams. The first three shots fired, hit Swartz squarely in the middle of his vest. No puncture wounds, but it hurt like hell. Those making a SWAT trained entrance would have had a few shots exchanged, but the flash-bangs and tear gas would have settled things up quickly. Swartz started a war. It was worse for the rest of the teams. Two officers were probably not gonna make it, several officers, had severe bruising from taking several hits and were saved by the protection of their vest. Many of the perps got away and finally, there was a large body count of perps downed by untrained gunfire. Valenti and his SWAT members were called out, but it took almost an hour to get them together and rolling. Swartz did not turn out a hero. It was doubtful if even his supporters would follow him any longer. The email from the chief asked for his resignation. Later sitting in a bar trying to drink away his disgrace, Swartz was approached by his hero. Doug Shellow now knew someone who hated Little Napoleon almost as much as who ever was on the other end of that telephone line. Shellow himself, had no feelings one way or the other. Swartz was now not working for the feds, but as a contract employee of the “Special Unit.”

Liz was back at the office, Alex, once again was running the detectives along with his duties as Captain. It was going to take months to rebuild the department. Some of those who left, might reapply, but most had found a new home and had no intention of coming back to a totally unknown situation. Agent Shellow was nowhere to be seen.

Alex let Liz keep her team intact along with Modek and Selenas. Because the regular detective squad was so crippled, Liz’s team took several regular calls. Maria had been called out of bed, again, at an ungodly hour. This time, she had Michael to pull her along. He did let her shower and do her hair, all the time trying to get her to hurry up. The other detectives knowing that they were very short-handed, did not shut Liz and her team out. When Maria and Michael arrived, Max was mapping the scene and directing the CSI team in their hunt for evidence. One of the detectives was reading his notes to Lieutenant Parker. “We have a male Caucasian, maybe about 45, wallet emptied of all identification. It looks like he took two 38’s in the chest. Anything else will have to wait for forensics. Liz thanked him. She was willing herself not to look for anything alien in this case. For so many years, everything she studied was an anomaly of something. That was in her mind when Max called to her.

“Hey, Lieutenant,” Max said as he was looking at a medical alert bracelet. The bracelet had no name, but it did list several medicines that presumably were dangerous to the person wearing it. It was at the end of the list that Max was showing her without letting the other detectives see its importance. At the list of forbidden medicines was a symbol. It was the same symbol that Liz now wore on a chain around her neck. The double spiral with the flattened side which would have been below the horizon if the Whirl Wind galaxy was viewed at the palace on Antar, the symbol held by the queen.

The crew from the meat wagon had arrived. As they were picking up the body, Liz handed them the address of the alternate morgue, the one staffed by aliens.

It was later that morning when Lieutenant Parker and Detective Evans were at the alternative morgue. Again, they had gone through the decorum of being the king and queen who just wanted to accomplish an investigation.

Doctor Roslyn Smith now, not even pretending who she was working for, was reading her findings. “A Caucasian Male, age 45, shot by caliber .38 or .357 at close range. He is completely human. The only anomaly is this design on his medical alert bracelet. It is the same as the medallion that I gave you the other night, which you are correctly wearing. His prints are in the system. His name is Robert LaShelle,” Doctor Smith handed Liz a folder. It contained all the information for her records.

“Hey, Maria, meet me at the office. I have a folder for you and Mike. We made an identity on this morning’s victim. You need to interview the family. Pick up Father Ryorden. He can help with announcing the death notice.

All police personnel hate this. Notifying the next of kin about a death. The subject can be the biggest asshole in the city, but it is a rare and evil person who doesn’t have someone to grieve for them. Most of the time, the deceased subject is neither saint nor sinner. They are just normal working stiffs who now are stiffs indeed. There are so few correct ways to notify the family and infinitely many to be wrong. Do it wrong you bring even more grief to the family. Normally, a group of police showing up on your door step, especially if they include a man of the cloth, is a bulletin screaming that tragedy has happened. Even to an atheist having a person who can project true compassion, deadens the blow.

“Is this the home of Robert LaShelle?” Maria started.

They could see the panic in the young girl’s eyes as she shouted, “Mama, come quick, something has happened to papa,” She sobbed.

An older edition of the girl who met them at the door came from the back of the house. “I am Denise LaShelle,” she said with a quivering voice.

Like a wild beast caught in a trap, her eyes darted looking for an escape from the message she had already digested, even before it had been given. Maria took a deep breath, “Mrs. LaShelle, I am sorry to inform you that Robert LaShelle was murdered sometime last night.” With that, Maria stepped back and Father Ryorden stepped forward. For a few brief minutes, the good father held Mrs. LaShelle’s shoulders as she sobbed.

“My child, do you have a church? Do you have faith?” the father asked.

The bereaved woman nodded, “We are Catholic; we attend the church in our local parish,” she quietly murmured.

Ryorden helped the woman to her couch and gently helped her to sit down. Maria and Michael also followed them into the room. “We hate to bother you at this time, but the faster we get information, the better chance we have to catch who did this,” Maria said. Maria hated this part. Every hour delay of meant that the killer got further away, if not in space, in time. Sure, under this much stress, the family might forget important information, but anything they gave the police, made a better chance to start an investigation. If they remembered something later, good, right now the detectives needed a starting point. “What did your husband do? Who did he work for?” Maria asked again.

“He had something to do in Foreign Affairs. He worked for an institution started by his father. I really never understood what he actually did,” Denise said.

Maria took out a photograph they had made of the medallion Liz now wore. “Does this symbol mean anything to you?” she asked.

Denise LaShelle stood and went into another room. When she came back, she was holding a medallion similar to the one Liz wore, but much smaller. She handed it to Maria. Maria hefted the medallion, it was considerably lighter than the one Liz possessed. Maria was sure that this medallion was made of silver, not some alien material. She handed it to Michael and he held it closing his eyes. Handing it back to Maria he said, “Human made, human silver.” No one else understood what he meant except for Maria.

“Do you know where your husband got this medallion?” Maria asked.

Denise shook her head. “No, he wore a medical alert bracelet with a similar figure carved in it. He told me that if anything happened to him I was to wear this continually. He said it would bring assistance if I needed it,” Denise explained.

Maria stood up and handed the medallion back to Mrs. LaShelle. “If you think of anything we should know here is my card.” She turned to The priest, “Father Ryorden, do you need a ride home?” she asked.

Ryorden looked up. “Detective, I am going to stay until her parish priest arrives. I will catch a ride home with him later,” he said.

With another murmur of, “I am sorry for your loss,” Maria and Michael returned to the office. They had a human murder, but it had something to do with aliens, Maria was sure.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg5, ch13, cc, 7/9/2012

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 15, 2012 11:28 am

mary mary: They said getting old wasn't for sissies

begonia9508: "Meat Wagon," as a name for ambulance is used many times with police, hospital or forensic people to lesson the pain they must face everyday. I have found that those who deal with pain and disaster often make light of things to the point of disrespect to distract themselves. To be heard by someone not in the profession, it would sound crude. Again, my story is trying to show that the aliens are very disversified.


Natalie36: more a replica than a fake. Robert Lashelle intended that the LaShelle family be identified as friends of the aliens, if something happened to him.

keepsmiling7: Michael was thinking about Maria just as Robert LaShelle was thinking about his family. If Michael died, then Maria needed to have the extra protection of the alien. If Maria died, then Michael would see the time spent with her wasted by his own fault. Again, marriage was on Michael's mind.

Chapter 14

Doug Shellow took out his scrambler box and hooked it up. He punched in the number on the keypad and sat back to wait. “Yes,” was heard over Doug’s phone.

“I got the subject. I am sure it was a direct hit. Subject recovered in three days. Do you want me to try again?” he asked.

“No,” was the crisp reply. “We know enough now. It would be difficult to terminate the subject. Don’t waste time. Anything else?” The mysterious voice asked.

“I recruited the officer they fired. He doesn’t even like human minorities I am sure that when he learns about the aliens he will fit into the program,” Doug stated. There was no reply so Doug hung up and dismantled his scrambler.


“Hey, they are all human, but there is something alien about LaShelle. Not, LaShelle, the person, but what he was doing. We need to contact the alien communities to see what they know about him,” Maria stated as she threw her purse and jacket on her desk. Michael went to his desk without saying anything.

Modek and Selenas called in from a gang fight they had been sent to. “Hey, Lieutenant, it is just humans beating the crap out of each other. The juvenile gang squad is here and they are going to take most of them in. Captain Whitman called and asked us to check a domestic disturbance. We will let you know what we find,” Modek said.

“That is 10-4, Detective, watch your backside. Remember, everyone in a family disturbance is likely guilty. Trust no one,” Liz cautioned.

“That is a big 10-4, lieutenant. We will call when we are free,” Modek replied.

The minute Maria sat down, she was on the phone to vice. Maria told everyone that she wasn’t ever going back in the field for vice, but she did help them set up their stings. In this manpower shortage everyone was doing two or more jobs.

Alex called. A new school had been authorized and as soon as the recruits graduated, there would be some uniforms who could trade their shields for detective ones. No one had decided what to do about the missing lieutenant position.

It was afternoon when Isabel called, “Liz, is it safe for me to come down to see you? I have two informants that might have knowledge to help in this last homicide.”

“Sure, Isabel. Swartz is long gone. We are being worked to death, but it is a lot more pleasant, down here,” Liz stated.

Isabel laughed. “Be there in an hour,” she said.

Before Isabel could arrive, Modek called into Liz. “Hey, Lieutenant, the gang unit is handling the fall out of the gang fight. They have called juvie and those units will be taking care of the arrests and investigation. We didn’t see any sign of alien influence, so we bugged out. Whitman handed us a bad one. The domestic disturbance turned out to be a wife mad ‘cause the old man had a girl friend. But, wait a minute, he said girlfriend lives in that hippy community north of the city. Half of the inhabitants are probably alien. Selenas and I are going to check her out before we come in.

Maria was leaning back. It had been years since she had been in a sting fishing for johns. Maria had interviewed four rookies. She had been lecturing them on what must be said and what would poison a case for court. Maria had inspected what clothes they were going to wear and again talked about what was professionally provocative and what was down-right slutty. They wanted to pick up professional johns and not a bunch of randy college students. A publicized bust would chase the johns back to the carefully run call girl organizations. Unless she received complaints, Maria wasn’t even sure that she was against those organizations. Keep the streets clean. That was all.

The desk sergeant called up and announced that Mrs. Whitman and two guests were on their way to see the lieutenant. Isabel, still dressing like a model or a lady of fashion, led two tall slender women of indeterminate age. The two women quickly looked over their shoulders and not seeing any humans within hearing distance they both said in soft melodious tones, “Your majesties.”

Isabel smiled as she introduced the women. “I want to present Malon Starsky and Senssi Lobeck. They are two of the original emigrants from Antar.”

Liz slightly raised her hand and said, “Please, around here it is Max and Liz.”

Again with a bow ever so slight, “Yes.”

On sitting, the two women looked at each other. It was Malon who started. “I see you found Margret’s medallion,” she said pointing to the necklace Liz was wearing. “It was given to her on her wedding day. The refugees were trickling in from the war torn home world and one of them was a lady at the queen mother’s court. She was the one who brought the medallion for the queen mother’s clone. When the clone known as Margret Herrera married Richard Olson, the alien community, although very small, wanted something to give what they considered their queen at that time.”

Liz took the medallion off and placed it on the desk so the two women could look at it. “I was told by individuals to wear this thing. They said it would mean something to any of the alien community when they saw it,” Liz told them.

Senssi took up the conversation. “It will mean something to some of the community. Like any minority, you must not make the mistake of thinking we all think alike,” she quietly said.

“Yes, once here we have those who think we were better off if we stayed with the despot. You saw this when you were chasing Nicholas. Politics with a group of beings is seldom simple. Kivar, through Nicholas and maybe the queen mother wanted to take over Earth. That was what everything he did was about,” Malon stated.

Max spoke up. “The aliens were only looking through one eye. They would have lost. The rebellion of Kivar was the first one in centuries for Antar to face. Earth wrestles with some despot or another almost daily. Earth would have won, but the loss of life, both human and alien would have been great,” he stated.

Both women sighed and Senssi said, “So, many of us had imagined. In alien politics, Nicholas wasn’t the only dissident. Even the king answered to powerful men, back on Antar. We think one of those men is here on Earth. He won’t do anything visible, but he may meddle in Earth things secretly. We think someone working for him was instrumental in the execution of Margret. Remember that the queen mother gave her clone a lot of her opinions and knowledge. Now, how this clone used this knowledge was her choice alone. The queen mother might have had very negative feelings to the man who the king answered to. We blame this mysterious man for the recent attack on the new queen. We know that she was promised no coercion, but unless she has issues and wants to do the unthinkable and refuse the mark, she should consider the extra protection being in the royal family would give.” The two women stood and with a slight bow to Liz and Max; they touched hands briefly with Isabel they left.

Liz sat there for a few minutes, “In other words, get with the program of get out of it,” Liz said.

“Liz, I promised that I would wait as long as necessary, that doesn’t mean that some of the other aliens aren’t getting nervous,” Max said.

Isabel looked first at Max and then, Liz. “You two need to take some talk time soon. Right now, I think you need to get down to the south part of the rail yards and try to stir up some of the community. Maria and Michael need to case some of the whore houses and maybe, check with that friend of hers at the strip joint.” Then, Isabel looked down slightly embarrassed. “I am sorry I am not trying to tell you how to run an investigation. I just have a feeling that something is about to pop. If it pops, I want our team to ready for it,” Isabel said.

Liz laughed, “No offence taken Isabel. It is ‘our’ team. You have been with us from the beginning. You are also the Captain’s wife. What happens to him is of your concern. You were, right in that Nicholas was trying to study human sexuality to know how to punish women. We need to see if any anomaly comes up with this mysterious person. Since Nicholas has been removed, this person might start to move on his own.”

Maria believed that José would be easier to talk to later in the evening. José was usually edgy early in the evening. Once the crowds started arriving, he relaxed and would have time to talk to them. The whorehouses on the other hand would be easiest to talk to now before the girls were given their assignments. The first stop was the “Gray Pussycat.” The matron at the door could have been Betty White.

Liz was learning that considering the aliens as just another minority was as good a way as any to understand them. When all of them were chasing down leads to Nicholas, Liz learned that many of the aliens concentrated in the fringes of humanity. South of Metropolis was known as slums by most of those living in the city. Liz’s special squad had found many aliens among the blue collared working class. They might not be able to drink with the workers, but they associated with them in other ways. Nicholas had used the vast warehouses on the west mesa for many of his plans. Some of the bars actually catered to both human and alien. Their drinks were all that separated them. Max said that there were a few bars in the south valley from Metropolis that were alien only. Humans felt uncomfortable being there.

Liz had met two communities of mostly aliens, the hippy, artsy-craftsy community in the hills north of the city and the strange community of dissidents on the other side of the mountains. Max assured her that in the gated communities on the east mesa against the foothills, with their jaguars, hummers and social calendars, aliens had found places for themselves also.

They might have to return to the rebel group, but for the minute, Max and Liz were going to check out the social groupings in the south. Liz found her self in a strange position. All the aliens, on both sides knew that she was the queen and all the aliens also knew that she hadn’t completely accepted her position, yet.

The road they were following was, at one time the main highway to El Paso, Texas. Now, it was only a two lane paved ribbon that wandered from town to town. Especially in the quiet of night, you could hear the bustle of the freeway several miles to the west. There was something more natural about the two lane road. It followed the river, the life blood of the many small villages of the valley.

The road near the city showed that the city, for some time, had grown along with it. Before the irrigated farms appeared, it was the last vestige of the industrial city. The small villages, some with names only known to the locals, were the work force supporting this last holdout from farming. Scattered among the collections of homes and warehouses were the bars and small stores supporting the few families living here. Max had heard of one small bar where they did not serve alcohol. He was sure that it was alien.

In the evening surrounding any of these small bars, you found pick-up trucks. In the city, pick-ups were status symbols. They were chromed and shinny; here they were rusted, dented and their beds beat up from the many tasks they were called upon to do. Alien or human, the utility of a pick-up truck was appreciated. Their police cruiser was very out of place.

Max should have thought, because Liz had no knowledge of it, that their repaired police cruiser had alien workmanship. It was louder than a siren to the alien patrons.

They entered. At first glance it could have been any bar in rural New Mexico. The clients were all male. The only female was the matronly woman tending behind the bar. The dress for everyone was levies, denim shirts and cowboy or work boots. Liz thought, how the typical work clothes of the southwest, were quickly accepted by the aliens because of their utility. One man, the spokesman, stepped forward. “Are your majesties slumming tonight?” he asked.

These were his people, bad attitude and all, so Liz let Max take the lead. “No…” Max drawled out. “We are here on business.”

“And, what business can a king whose queen does not even join him, have with us?” another patron spoke out.

Liz saw that as angry as they were trying to make him, Max was right by the book. She wondered if he was right by any royal alien book, also. “Margret Herrera Olson,” Max started. “She was murdered by aliens many years ago. She was a physical clone of the queen mother, but she dedicated herself to helping the alien population find a place in their new world. We don’t know if those who murdered her were followers of Nicholas, the puppet of the despot,” and Max spat on the floor, “or if they were part of something even more evil.”

Liz was watching all the patrons carefully as well as the woman tending the bar. She noticed that several of the patrons, including the bar tender, also spat when Max did. Max continued, “Twice humans have tried to assassinate us. Both times, we were investigating this murder. Can it be that humans are in the employ of some greater alien power or are some of our people stooges, for a human political power?”

Liz saw the care Max used in how he chose his words. Liz was sure than in alien translation the meaning wasn’t lost. Could it be that humans were employed… while aliens in the same subordinate position would be stooges? It could be seen that even here, where their needs were met of comfort and mutual community, they were deeply divided as to this topic. One alien as he rudely turned his back said, “You destroyed Nicholas, what makes you think that there is any other movement political or otherwise?”

Max did not let this slight go un-noticed. He grabbed the alien and spun him around to face him. “Nicholas was not of the people. He was not even of an Antarian species. He was brought in by the despot,” again the obligatory spit by those agreeing, “he killed or caused to be killed many of the people. He was responsible for killing many humans which drew attention to our community. Nicholas never killed before by the cadmium factor. There was never any silver handprint on any of the royal family. Here Nicholas killed humans leaving evidence that they were killed by aliens, by us the people,” Max stated grandly.

Liz thought, “Max truly is a king.” Then, her mind wandered, “What kind of queen would I make? All the aliens I have met, so far, have accepted me as the machine’s choice. The machine chose the queen mother and looked how well that turned out. Max wants me as his queen. I imagine, that in his way, Max sees me every bit as passionately as Michael sees Maria, except for the dancing. Max would never treat me like Sean DeLuca did. Why can’t I accept him? It is not as if I don’t want a lover. I desperately want someone to insulate me from the memories and feelings I had with Sean. Max has promised that he will quit punishing Sean when we are joined. Why am I not running into his arms?” With the division between the aliens, both glaring at Max and each other, Liz came back to the present. They were two cops, without close backup in a situation that could easily erupt into a dangerous situation.

Maria O’Gradey, misspelling and all was a name she read/heard soon after she finished her conversion to human form and learned a language. It could be read on a small, unlighted sign over the door. Of course, Max and Liz didn’t see it. If you were alien and local, you knew where “Mother O’Gradey’s” place was and if you weren’t, you had no business there. Maria O’Gradey had no intention of letting any brawl develop, especially with the police. She knew very well the value of not being noticed. A bung hammer is a wooden hammer used to place stoppers in kegs. The hammer might not be used in her brew, not alcoholic of course, but it made a fine equalizer. That is, it made Maria O’Gradey more equal than everyone else. Liz had to suppress a giggle, what would the other Maria think of this one?

Starting a fight among his own people was not Max’s intention either. He handed the lady a card and pointed at a board behind the bar with all sorts of messages. With her holding the card, Max took a dart from a bowl. Sitting on the bar, and using alien magic, he plunged the dart point up to the body, pinning it to the board. “Call me if any of you have information,” Max said as he and Liz backed out of the bar.

“Your people are pretty volatile in their opinions,” Liz was saying as suddenly, Max hit her with his elbow forcing her behind him and creating a green shield facing the night. Liz saw several blasts as if lightening was attacking them. The blasts all splattered against the shield. This was Max’s show, so Liz stood behind him her Glock drawn.

Just as quickly as before, Max pushed Liz behind him into the doorway of the bar and faced something from the other side. As Max had been focusing too tightly on the alien menace to his left, he felt a human-alien presence on the right. He protected Liz, but he felt the sting of sub-machinegun bullets before he had set up his second defense.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg5, ch14, cc, 7/15/2012

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 22, 2012 12:24 pm


mary mary



Chapter 15

“Officer down,” Liz had phoned in to the station. At a carnival, you might hear the call, “hey rube,” which would elicit a similar response. It might be supposed that the president’s secret service would stand tight, but almost any other police agency quickly responds to this urgent cry. Two BIA cops, (Bureau of Indian Affairs) patrolling a nearby Native American Indian pueblo quickly shook up the normally quiet community by going full red light and siren out to the highway. They would talk their way out of it with the pueblo governor, tomorrow. A Border Patrol van with six illegals in the back suddenly stopped. “Fellows, welcome to America,” the officer called out as he shooed them out of the back. The second officer no sooner buckled up than they were on their way. The location was only a couple miles away. At the Metropolis Police Department, they were having shift changing. Two teams, one coming in and one going out, to a car, the call of one of their own came out. No one said it was Little Napoleon and Detective Evans, they only knew that it was “one of their own.” Every officer, every night or day on patrol feared that someday they might be calling for help. Political and turf wars could be fought tomorrow, tonight, “it was one of their own.”

Notoriety was not an issue now. There were enough red lights to make it look like a tomato farm. “Ma’am, have you called an ambulance, yet?” Liz was asked.

Liz shook her head, “No, call Detective Guerin, instead,” and she gave them the number.

Michael and Maria were dressed, but shirt and blouse were not tucked in very well. For once, Maria didn’t insist on checking her makeup. They were wearing shoes, but time for socks was not there. Michael was using every bit of his alien senses dodging in and out of traffic. Maria wasn’t worried about Michael’s skill, she was worried about leaving a path of mayhem and destruction behind.

“Hey chief, Guerin just called me. Evans is down. Parker is with him and she told Michael that it is bad. You need to get Tess over to Max’s apartment as soon as you can.” Alex didn’t need to say who was calling. This message was not one to question. He was juggling the phone and his pants at the same time. Alex was pushing his feet into his shoes as Isabel entered the room. She always looked perfect no matter what the emergency was.

Michael and Maria arrived at the service door. Liz was in the back seat, trying to slow the blood flow from the badly hurt Max. They were met by both the captain and the chief, along with their wives. Michael, as soon as he had Max where the others could care for him, would go back and do damage control. In the last year, many had learned about the aliens. Still, it wasn’t a good idea to leave hard evidence around to fuel any controversy, especially if as it appeared, there were new enemies. Michael would clean up any blood trail.


Somewhere south of the city, “Well, I missed that damned bitch, but I did nail Evans,” Swartz stated.

“Yes, and that might even prove to have great value,” Agent Shellow said as he took the Thompson machinegun from Andy Swartz. “I will call the boss and let him know,” Doug finished.


Liz was sitting in the front room. Maria was sitting beside her, holding her tightly in embrace. Kyle and Alex were sitting opposite. Isabel and Tess had shooed all the humans out. This was alien business and they didn’t want any distractions. “I wanted to marry Max,” Liz sobbed. “There was never any good reason not to. I remember what Alex told me he said when Max told him about the machine moving him closer to Isabel. ‘God bless the machine.’ There were so many reasons that I should have gone forward in marrying Max, but I was afraid,” Liz informed them.

“Me too,” Maria said. “The last time it hit the fan, Michael put his foot down. He didn’t want either of us to die or be hurt without leaving a legacy of belonging to each other. Now, I keep thinking about poor Denise LaShelle. She is human and doesn’t understand anything about what happened to her husband. He gave her a copy of the royal emblem, much like yours. He told her to wear it if something happened to him. Now, she is caught in between. She knows nothing about aliens, but she knows that something killed her man. All she has left is something that he gave her and told her that it was powerful.” Maria continued.

Maria’s statement was news to almost everyone there. “We haven’t said anything to any one, we decided it was private. Big Jim and my mom were the only ones there. Now, if something happens to either of us, we have both the alien and the human community to come to our aid. I haven’t written my report of the last few days yet, but Michael and I learned a lot,” Maria finished.

Liz took some tissues and said, “Yeah, Maria tell me what happened, it will be better than sitting here and worrying.”

Alex and Kyle leaned forward. Liz was right, they all needed a distraction. “The Gray Pussycat, is a whore house for more mature gentlemen. It may, also, be more a place for mature professional ladies. Michael and I were asking for stories way back. Were there any customers who stood out as really strange? One lady remembered this man, whose English was terribly broken. The strange part was that it improved so fast. He told her that he had just arrived. She never asked him where he arrived from. He wanted sex, but he wanted explanations of all sorts of customs and what was the right and wrong ways to approach women. She said she felt more like a teacher. It almost bothered her that she was screwing a child. He was middle aged, or his Identification said he was. She had him checked out by the bouncer after the second time he was there,” Maria related.

“Any time except for now, after we have learned so much, or any place other than here, I wouldn’t believe her,” Alex said. “Now, I can believe that there was an alien who wanted knowledge away from the rest of the alien community.”

“Capt’n it gets worse. This man still comes back, from time to time. Lately, he has been arriving in a limo with all sorts of bodyguard types. He still wants to get laid, but he always has many questions afterward. He tips extravagantly,” Maria told them.

“Even if he is alien, he could be someone using alien magic to get ahead in the money markets,” Alex explained.

“Or, he could be a guy setting up some secret government agenda,” Kyle spoke up for the first time.

They were interrupted by Tess returning to the room where they were waiting. “Max is the one who heals,” Tess started, “but Max is the one hurt. We have him stableized,” she said. “It is going to be some time before he is really strong. We need a few more minutes. Then we need to all get out of here and leave Liz to take care of him until later.” She returned to help Isabel.

“We can finish this later, but there is one other thing. This guy or alien, whatever, is known by several other whorehouses. He tips so well and they are a little frightened of him, makes getting information difficult,” Maria concluded for now.

The next morning and the word around the department was that Evans had been shot. Fred Garmin was getting ready to go on patrol. Fred didn’t have that many years left until his 25. Twenty-five years, a gold watch and a reasonable pension, to retire to be chief of police or training officer in some small town. His experience working in Metropolis would make him a god send of experience in some small town, which only had a murder every five years, the only rape was the town slut who was still in high school and had gotten caught in a semi-truck sleeper by a security guard. It wasn’t something she hadn’t done with the football team at one time or the other, this time he just happened to be 40. Garmin yearned for the title, ‘peace officer.’ From drunks to family fights, arrest wasn’t what was important, forcing people to find ways to settle differences and go back to peaceful living in the community; that is what it should be about. Fred was the first to remark that morning. “Damn, I thought Evans had a charmed life. Guerin says that someone got him in the back with a Thompson machinegun,” Fred moaned. He, along with most of the detective force, liked Evans. Evans was hell on wheels in a bar fight. Chief Valenti couldn’t keep from repeating his story about Evans using that sleeper hold the first time he met him. Valenti had called Evans the Vulcan of the department.

Desk Sergeant O’Brian asked, “And, what hospital would they be taking him to? I will call Father Ryorden to say a rosary for him. Evans can’t help it that he ain’t Irish, but as my father once said, ‘All boyos in blue are Irish saints, when they fall in duty.’”

Al Selenas spoke up. “You know that Evans has more money than the departmental budget. Word is, he is at home and has a private doctor taking care of him,” Al stated.

Fred Modek spoke next. “Yeah, notice that Lieutenant Parker is also absent. You know, Little Napoleon is a pain in the butt, but take a look at her. If you were hurt, you could have far worse wiping your brow. It was said that she was shot a few days ago and Evans took her to his private physicians. They must be good as she was only out a few days,” Fred mused.

Fredrico Chavez was pushing his oil mop down the hall getting ready for the daily herd trumping through his so perfectly manicured building. As he passed the men all talking he said, “Hey guys, you see how close the lieutenant is getting to Evans.”

“Yeah Freddie, but they still are God’s wrath in the field. She may be falling in love, but when they helped narcotics bring those perps, the other day, I noticed Napoleon’s knuckles were as bloody as mine,” remarked Sammy Stabo, the lone narcotics officer present. “She did kick ass.”

Jamie Milligan was still on probation. He was proud to be included in conversations with the other officers. “I heard that the capt’n don’t want Parker and DeLuca to be working together anymore, too many excessive force complaints,” he added.

Fred Modek clapped Jamie on the shoulder. Fred had been around long enough to forget what being accepted meant to a rookie. “Yeah kid, keep DeLuca with Guerin. She beats shit out of one perp and her partner shoots the other one,” he said.

After announcing what was necessary about Max being shot, Michael and Maria retired to their office. Swartz wasn’t around any longer, but Maria sort of wanted to protect their territory from some imagined encroachment. The phone rang; it was Jimmy the Nose. “Is this the dancer?” he asked.

Maria chuckled Jimmy had his own system of remembering folks. “Yes, Jimmy, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“Can you and the big guy meet me at that restaurant we were in the other day?” Jimmy asked.

“Sure thing, Jimmy,” Maria said. She motioned to Michael, “Come on, big guy, Jimmy wants us to buy lunch for him again. I told you that if we gave him half a chance, he would prefer something other than any more acetone,” Maria smugly stated.

Jimmy was standing outside the small restaurant, when DeLuca and Guerin arrived. “They won’t let me in unless I am with you,” he explained.

Michael walked to the rear of the small place and again opened the door in the rear to let the acetone smell exit and not get the rest of the diners stoned. Michael raised his hand and called out to the waitress, “Coffee all around and two cheese burgers for my friend.”

“That man at the desk, don’t like me. He scares me when I go to the station,” Jimmy explained.

“O’Brian runs what he feels is a secure office,” Maria explained. “Once he knows you are looking for us, he’s okay.”

“Then, there is that other one. Not Lieutenant Whitman nor the lady, Little Napoleon, that one who yells and tells me he is going to throw me in jail without any reason,” Jimmy whined.

“Swartz is gone, Jimmy. “He didn’t like us either, very much,” Maria explained.

“How is the lady lieutenant?” Jimmy asked. “I heard she got shot.”

“She is getting better,” Michael said. “My friend, Max Evans got shot last night. Do you have anything for us on either shooting?” Michael asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “Don’t ask me to cry for Doctor Strangelove. He scares me more than any of the others,” Jimmy replied. Then, he spoke up, “I think I saw the man who shot Little Napoleon the other night. I have seen him around the station. He usually wears nice clothes, like Doctor Strangelove. When I last saw him, he was dressed in black. He went up that wall like a gecko, carrying something on his back. Later there was an Explosion and he came down that drain pipe like his tail was on fire. That might have been his problem. As he went by the place where I was sleeping, I smelled burning clothes and what I think was burning flesh. He ain’t been near the police station, either, the last few days. That’s when I heard the nice lady was shot. I figured I better tell you what I know,” Jimmy finished.

Maria and Michael looked at each other, “That Damned Fed,” they said almost simultaneously.


Isabel felt she was going in circles. First, she was very concerned about her husband, Alex. She had always been rather callus about the well being of her previous lovers. Alex was different. He was part of her. Alex was working himself into the ground. Being captain, and still having concerns about the detective squad, it was all his wife could do to make him relax and to, some way, help him to rid himself of tension. Now, Alex was worried about someone trying to kill, both her brother, Max, and the lieutenant. That also had Isabel very worried. The morning phone call didn’t help anything. “Hello, Isabel, long time no see. You shouldn’t have done that to me,” a voice she recognized as Grant Sorenson’s, her former lover.
Warrior Chicks of Aswam The dream is almost over

Murder on the Rio Puerco Liz is something different. What is she?
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg6, ch15, cc, 7/22/2012

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 29, 2012 10:48 am


mary mary

keepsmiling7: That is correct. Liz understands she needs to do something.

Chapter 16

Max was weak when he awoke. Isabel and Tess had stabilized him, but healing was always his skill. “Physician, heal thy self,” was a harsh command. Of course, having the lieutenant’s body lying across his chest with her arms around him helped a lot.

Feeling him move beneath her caused Liz to wake up, also. “Max, I have been reading about so many lives of those who were chosen queen. Some were good and some were bad. Did any of them ever refuse?” she asked.

“Liz, remember, I know very little more about my history than do you. I do believe that good or bad, those chosen by the machine have always accepted. Talking to Isabel, I think that the machine never makes a mistake about whom it chooses as to whether they accept. Even the machine, however it works, can’t tell whether the queens will be good or bad. If the machine can sample futures, it means no future is fixed forever,” Max explained.

“Max, I don’t want to make alien history, but I would like to see the machine first. Isabel says it has requested to interview me,” Liz stated.

“Does this mean you will marry me because you want to and not just because some machine tells you to?” Max asked.

Liz was a little coy as she playfully replied, “Well, yes… but when you get married, it is good to have your friends cheering on the side lines. It is even better when some magic machine ‘who’ reads the future also, is cheering.

As soon as I can get around, we will call in more sick leave and go to Roswell. I need to be strong enough to make the climb. It is pretty steep,” Max said as he tried to hug Liz to himself. That was a bad mistake, one that elicited a cry, even for the normally stoic Max.


“Maria, babe...” yelled José. “Everyone at the station getting shot, breaking the … of a perp who only wants to grab your butt. What did you break on that poor man? Breaking the hand of the lieutenant who only wants again to feel that oh so wonderful body, are you ready to quit and come back to those who love you?” José asked as he always did when she came in. José almost considered Maria as part of his family. He did that to almost all those who worked for him.

“Not yet, José. Everything I did, I had a good reasons. The shootings, at least no one has been killed, yet. “We are working on those. We have some questions for you,” Maria stated.

José turned to Michael, “She is still a peach, ain’t she? Is she still dancing for you in those costumes she stole from me? You ought to tell her to return them and buy some new ones. Then, she can tell me her new skit and let me incorporate it here. Michelle is a peach also, but she doesn’t have the imagination that Maria has. Michelle is so busy writing skits, she hasn’t even had time to dance at the pole herself.” Then, José turned back to Maria, “Ask away, Chica, you will be the ruin of me yet,” he moaned.

“José we have been covering the better whore houses. There is a strange man who comes in for sex and also, demands a lot of questions be answered. Have you had any strange customers? Maybe someone who doesn’t act like you think he should?” Maria asked.

José drew himself to his best height of five foot five. He sucked in his gut looking as wounded as possible. “Maria, babe, you know I don’t run that kind of place. I offer exotic dance, visions you keep as you return to make love to your wife. Any rocks you loose here, you keep in your pants. Nicholas is the strangest person we have had here and I trust that you took care of him, somewhere,” he stated.

Maria put her hand on his arm. “Jose, José, I know you only produce ‘PlayBoy’ in the flesh. José, you hear things. Those worthless in-laws, you always talk about, they see things and they tell you. Pour them an extra beer on me. We need information. And for God sakes, if someone like Nicholas returns call us,” Maria admonished.

José reached across the bar and grabbed Maria in an embrace. “Oh, Chica, you still believe in me. Anything I learn, I give to you and the big guy.” Then, he turned to Michael, “How’s that baby project coming? You guys are supposed to be working on that,” he concluded.

As they walked back to their car, Maria said with a laugh, “I hope our first kid is a boy. I am not sure that a guy who runs a stripper joint will be a good god-father for a girl.”

Michael looked at her. “Are you sure that you want your son hanging out after school at a stripper club?” he asked.

Maria turned and putting her arms around his neck she pulled his head down. “Maybe by the time we have to worry about that, José will be retired. You know, back at his farm with all his grandkids at his side and our little one begging, with the rest for biscochitos,” she said hopefully.


Isabel, wearing her dark glasses hurried to the small bar suggested by Grant. For the first time in her life, Isabel felt guilty. This was a strange feeling for her. Before Alex, Isabel had been a free spirit. You couldn’t cheat on someone you didn’t care about. The public displays of being the tragic figure as she once again proved that men were untrustworthy were only for the tabloids and photographers. Now seeing a former lover was a slap against Alex. She kept asking herself, why was she doing this? The only answer she came to was that Grant suggested that he had something that would ruin her marriage.

When Isabel entered the small bar, she saw Grant sitting at a small table in a dark corner. As she approached, Grant stood and extending his arms, he attempted to kiss Isabel.

Isabel pulled back and they both sat down. Grant was nursing a pitcher of beer and he indicated Isabel to order something. She shook her head. She might have to sit with him, but she had no intention of drinking with him. Isabel had perfected her ability to take on alcohol better than most aliens. That allowed her lavish and hedonistic lifestyle. “No, Grant, don’t try to pretend that this is a pleasure meeting,” she snapped.

“Oh, Izzy, Izzy, don’t try any of that alien shit on me. You totally made me look bad when you sent me to that whore and then, called the press. Now, I have the upper hand. Hey, don’t look so surprised. I have known about that alien thing ever since we parted. A man sent for me and explained everything to me. He explained how you picked me up, making me think I had seduced the royal princess, making me think I was the man controlling the best piece of ass around. He knew all about you and that brother of yours. Now, unless you want me to ruin everything, I do have control. I can fuck you any time I want, every way I want and any place I want. Unless you want me to bring everything down around your oh so pretty shoulders, you are mine,” Grant said with venom.

Isabel, stunned at his words, raised her hand intending to make a conduit to Grant. The energy she sent his way only sputtered against a green barrier. Isabel was frightened, she was sure that Grant wasn’t alien, yet here he was using alien technology. “See, you are not the only one who has strange powers. He said I could use them to completely ruin you and, baby, before we are through, I will drag you through the dirt. Nobody makes a fool of Grant Sorenson,” he stated.

Isabel visibly relaxed and she saw the shield go down. Grant had the technology, but he didn’t have the skills. Through gritted teeth Isabel whispered, “Grant, I will see you dead for this. You don’t know that much about aliens.”

Grant could only smile, “Look, he is teaching me all I need.”

Isabel, gently with her mind pushed his pitcher to the edge of the table. As it tipped, Grant concentrated on grabbing it. Isabel using plain old human methods, swung a ketchup bottle against his head. As he went down, she grabbed her things and fled.

Isabel needed to talk to Max. Max was barely taking care of himself and Liz. Michael would bull his way against Grant and make things worse. The only alien left was Tess. Isabel hoped that Tess had enough care to help her now. Tess was now on their side and as the wife of a deputy chief, she supported the police. Isabel didn’t know if Tess had any ill feelings for the time when Isabel was controlling her.

“Isabel, you have to tell him. You don’t have a choice. You assaulted a human with a ketchup bottle. It is a wonder that you didn’t kill him. That other thing, don’t worry about it. In some ways, we are all under control. My gene donor was sold to the queen mother. We assume that she didn’t have any choice. What if she had been prepared,her whole life, to join the Antarians and in some way take control of the heir. Maybe, she was a super patriot for her people. When Nicholas brought me here, he prepared me to take control of the king. I assume I was supposed to screw the king silly and distract him so he would join Nicholas. The fact was that Nicholas didn’t know enough about Antarians. He didn’t know that all my programing would fail if the king no longer had a sign to give a queen. Nicholas was fighting a stronger force than he understood. The machine gave the sign to Liz that night. When I approached the king, the machine had already changed all of our lives. Isabel, I was a clean slate. I had all my intellect, but drives and ambition had been erased. The machine gave me to you. You freed me from my past. Kyle was seen as a lecher. The machine didn’t see him that way. I gave Kyle an impossible task. To take me, he had to give up all other women. He willingly did it and I willingly went to him. We couldn’t be happier. The control you put on me at first is what freed me to be happy. Isabel, you can allow Alex to do anything you want. You can’t afford to let Grant to do anything to you. It would destroy us all. You have to tell Alex everything.

Liz was driving. Even cruise control, power steering, cars were too much for Max. When Liz was shot, Max took only a day to heal the wound. With himself, he needed more strength to heal and he needed to heal to gain more strength. It was going to take all he had to manage the climb up to the pod chamber. “Max, Isabel left me a text message that she needed to talk to us as soon as we got back. She says it is very important, but she wants us to interview the granolith before she talks to us,” Liz said.

“Michael told me to be extra careful on this trip. He says we have enemies everywhere. Michael has always been paranoid, but he really was worried,” Max replied.

“Don’t you remember, Max? Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean that people are not out to get you,” Liz reminded him of that old saying.

“Michael said that Isabel had been talking to Tess. He said that Maria was going to see her. Mike said that Isabel had been threatened. He said that he and Maria could take care of Isabel until we got back; then, he said we have to have a serious conference. Michael said that us talking to the granolith takes priority now,” Max concluded.

It was a half days journey to Roswell and a couple hours torturing the alien repaired cruiser down the same unimproved road as Alex had traveled. Liz saw the sand stone cliff and the goat trail. Liz thought that it probably was, at some time, a trail carved by some cliff dwellers who had been living in this area about a thousand years ago. She was mostly worried about Max being able to keep his equilibrium going up that trail. Max shook his head at any suggestion she made. He kept insisting that he had to go with her to face the machine.

When they came to the silver spot, Liz understood. Silver, probably made out of the same stuff as the killing and healing marks. The aliens had different ways to handle this strange isotope of cadmium. Max’s hand opened the cave. Liz was amazed as much as Alex when she entered. She wasn’t as inquisitive as he. She sat in the comfortable chair and heard the deep voice, “Greetings, your majesty.”

“Unlike Alex and the princess, you both will be hearing the same thing,” the deep voice announced. “The king will be assisted in his healing while you are here.”

While the machine was talking, Liz was looking around. Like Alex she saw lights flashing from the next room. The machine was an amorphous dull gray lump. There were flashing lights in part of it, but there were no levers, no buttons and no controls of any kind. The machine was addressing them as if it was looking directly at them, but Liz saw nothing that looked like a lens. “You are correct. No one has refused the sign; however, several of the chosen have been less than the potential I had sought. There is no power in the universe that will let me make better choices than those I make. That does not mean that I have anything less than the greatest hope for you.”

“Isabel said you needed to interview me,” Liz said.

“Maybe better, you need to interview me. You need to feel free to consult me anytime. I am not infallible, but I have been studying humans for over fifty years. I think I am beginning to understand your species. The queen mother did not choose Earth. That was done centuries before. She, much like Kivar and Nicholas, underestimated humans. If Nicholas had gotten control of Max, it would have been disastrous for both species. Neither Nicholas nor Kivar had enough imagination to conquer humans. A war would have been costly. I gave you the king’s sign because you are strong, independent and intelligent. These are traits needed to lead Antarians and to meld them with humans. Until the king joined your investigating unit, I never heard of you. By the time the king faced the hybrid clone the queen mother created and Kivar sent from Antar, I had completely researched your history. I found that you were capable of a deep love and someone had taken crass advantage of this ability. I punished that person. I am not vindictive, I will release them when you and the king are joined.”

Liz had no idea how long they had been sitting here. The machine had been silent for several minutes, then, it spoke again. “Lets take a break. Walk around you will find a room to refresh yourself. There is hot and cold water and other facilities. Come back in about ten of your minutes.”

Liz stood up. She was stiff. She noticed that Max seemed to be stronger than when they had arrived. They both made use of the facilities. Liz noticed that they had a typical human feel about them. It was as if the machine had stolen a restroom from some upscale motel. She could only wonder where did it get running water? “Liz, for almost fifty years, three children were kept in stasis. To preserve, life you have to have water,” Max explained.

Like the intermission at a theater, the lights blinked and Liz and Max returned. “This will be short,” the machine stated. “The queen mother intended the outcomes to be very different. She intended to brainwash the Ava clone that you call Tess. The queen mother clone would take over the queen mother’s place and the royal clones would be established to take over Earth. The queen mother didn’t ever see Kivar as a real threat until he allowed Nicholas to kill her. She never lived to see her plans come apart. I removed the Ava clone and put myself in its place. I nurtured the three remaining clones to be very different from the designs of the queen mother. The crash happened, probably because the ship wasn’t prepared for me. I delayed the royal clones being released until I thought it most fortuitous. I released them not as functioning adults, but as children to experience human culture. I released the king and the princess to experience the best that humans had to offer and the soldier to fight his way up from nothing. When they became adults, I brought them together. The king, as was fitting, had a noble life recognizing responsibility. The princess was allowed to experience all possible human excesses until she was needed to fight Nicholas. Now, the princess is threatened by one of her excesses. She will need all of your help to get through. Aliens and humans alike are threatened by a super alliance between dissident humans and aliens. They are the masters of those who chose to murder the queen mother clone. The clone, Margret Herrera Olson, had turned out to be a fairly good alien. She should be remembered for helping the aliens start their homes.” The machine went silent.

They waited for several minutes until Max finally said, “I think the interviews are over for this time.” They stood and walked back down the trail before the failing light made it too difficult to see where they were going.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg6, ch16, cc, 7/29/2012

Post by ken_r » Sat Aug 04, 2012 12:29 pm

mary mary: Oracles and wisemen seldom give direct answers to simple questions. The granolith might tell about the end of the world, but who will win the world series is for man to find out hiimself.



begonia9508: There are some even meaner characters waiting to be found

Chapter 17

“Hey, I did what you said. I got a cracked skull for my troubles,” Grant declared. He was sitting in a room with the stranger. No names had ever been passed around.

There was a chuckle from the stranger. “We found what we needed to learn,” he said. A woman working for the stranger was cleaning the blood off of Grant’s head and the stranger had placed his hand on the wound for several minutes. Grant did see in the one mirror in the room, that now instead of blood, he had a silver handprint on his skull. “The old clone of Vilandra, would have done anything to save whatever she thought she had. We have watched her for years. She would have done the easiest thing to avoid loosing what she thought she had. She has changed. This one will do anything to save what she sees as the relationship between herself and that cop. She has completely changed from the person you used to know,” the stranger continued.

Grant looked up, “Hey, I am known as a pretty good stud. How about I try the other one, that blonde who married the deputy chief? She looks good for a tumble.”

The stranger smiled, if it could be called a smile. “That blonde, as you describe her, is the second most powerful creature on Earth; she is surpassed only by the queen. The blonde doesn’t know how much power she has and we don’t understand why the queen has so much. The blonde is a hybrid clone, but the queen is one hundred percent human. We figure that the infernal machine will bring the king and queen together this weekend. Grant, go screw some groupies at the casino. We will call you when we need you again.” Grant understood that he had been dismissed.


“Alex read the report and then, go talk to Isabel. You once said, ‘God bless the machine,’ when we were talking about your relationship with her,” Michael said as he handed the Captain a folder that he had just finished putting together.

Time: 2:30 PM.
Report of an assult in the Blue Moon Bar south of town.

Michael had entered the Blue Moon Bar yesterday afternoon. He had been called to investigate something that he felt should have been covered by one of the less senior detectives. Rusty Anderson was standing behind the bar. Michael showed his identity and asked, “What is the problem?”

“This sleeze ball comes in and takes a place in a dark corner. Pretty soon this doll enters. She is a model of some sort. She sits down and doesn’t order anything. He is nursing a pitcher of Stout. They talk for some time. I ain’t watching too close. We only had a few customers, so it ain’t like we needed the table. Seemed like they was arguing. They was playing with some sort of electronic device. There was a green glow coming from that corner. Suddenly, she stands up and hits him on the head with a ketchup bottle. She is yelling something. She runs out and after a few minutes, he runs out after her. That damned ketchup bottle should have dented his skull handsomely. I figured I had a dead one to answer for. The city is already pissed over that last stiff we found in the corner after closing last month,” Rusty explained.

This short Hispanic came over to Michael. He identified himself as Espedion Sanchez. “You know, Rusty, for an Anglo you can be pretty dumb,” he said.

“Oh Speedy, I suppose that you know all about it,” Rusty answered.

“You betcha boots, Gringo. That tall blonde was Isabel Evantide. ‘Haven’t heard much about her recently. There was a time when she was mixed up with some guy every month, always somebody different. Man, she was a good looking piece of ass. That guy she was talking to was Grant Sorenson. He is supposed to have a dick twelve inches long. He is supposed to have gotten off of her in mid stroke. Dumb shit left her lying in bed and picks up with a street whore. Of course, she kicks him out and goes into seclusion. Looks like they was trying to get back together. I guess she is still pissed off with him. That crack on the skull ain’t like a love tap or anything,” Speedy Sanchez concluded.

Michael left Sanchez and Anderson arguing the merits of Evantide and Sorenson. He was going to have to write up the report. Alex needed to see this and this wasn’t the time to clean it up. There was no normal reason Isabel would act like this. Mike hoped that Alex used common sense and a lot of compassion.


“Hey Maria, I wanted to do like you and Michael. Max says we have responsibility to put on a slightly greater show,” Liz told her friend.

“That won’t be hard chica. After we said we do and the reverend said I imagined you already did, several times, Mom and Big Jim went to one motel room and me and Mike went to another. That is all there was. Michael did say he registered us with the alien community. The reverend sent our names into city hall,” Maria narrated her wedding story.

“Well, if we aren’t in the middle of a shoot out, this Saturday we are going to gather at the community north of town, you know where your mother lived when you were young. Tell Amy she and Big Jim are invited,” Liz stated.

“Hey, Liz how did the session with the machine go?” Maria asked.

“About as expected. The machine did say that Isabel was in trouble and it hoped that its choice of Alex as her companion was correct. If possible, the damned machine sounded worried,” Liz said.


“Alex, you said you didn’t care about my past. Well, my past is trying to catch up with me,” Isabel cried.

“Izzy, do you think you killed the man?” Alex asked.

“Alex, I don’t know. He was so sure that I would give in to him. Alex, I would rather die than go back to that other life. The machine said it had reasons for letting me live wild like that. What is going to happen?” she asked her lover.

“Izzy, I don’t know. Michael investigated and he gave me a pretty straight forward report. I imagine he wrote another report that he filed with the department,” Alex explained.

“Alex, you do believe that I wouldn’t betray you, don’t you?” she asked.

“Isabel, I believe that you don’t want to betray me. I think your fidelity depends on how much you trust me. I think we need to ask, where did Grant come from? How did he get alien support to use a shield? Mike and Max say they don’t know how to share their abilities with their women. Who is supporting Grant? Then, we need to ask, are there any more waiting to come forth?” Alex asked.

Isabel was watching Alex’s face. To explain to a man who admitted that he had had only one previous sexual encounter, that of Judy DeMills late one night in the computer lab, was not easy for Isabel. Being screwed while waiting for a program to run was not romance to Alex. Isabel felt that Ms. DeMills was not even honest. DeMills had screwed Alex without making any effort to care for Alex’s feelings. Judy had admitted from the start that she just wanted to see what the physical act felt like. “Don’t try to see anything more in this, Alex,” were her parting words.

Not only was explaining to Alex difficult, explaining to herself was just as hard. When Alex was caring for Isabel, Tess had told her later that she had told him some about the many lovers of Isabel Evantide. Alex had just forced Isabel to think back. How many men had she slept with? Isabel had never seen this as a sport where she was keeping score. She just took lovers as a convenience, all the time convincing herself that they were two people who used a physical way of showing their care for each other. “Don’t try to see more into this.” Where had she heard this phrase before? Previous thoughts about Judy DeMills caused a deep pain. Was she, Isabel, no better? The first night he had made love to her torn and tortured body she had whispered in his ear, “Alex, cleanse me of my past.” Alex found that as she opened up to him it was almost virginal. Isabel didn’t try to demonstrate her considerable skill in bed. She did try to show him how much she needed him and how much she wanted him. True, her considerable skill was eventually seen. The first night she showed no more skill than Judy DeMills. What she did show was that as he progressed in his study of her body, she, Isabel loved every second of it. She showed warmth where Judy had been cold and mechanical. DeMills would probably never experience love. Isabel brought to Alex so much more than sex.

“Alex, my past is vast. I knew an uncountable number of men. Something is now going into my past and trying to bring me punishment. It may be doing more than that. This something may be attacking all of us. This may be the first stage,” she reasoned.


“Okay Michael, I said I would do this. Remember that I swore that never again would I try to entrap anyone doing what, so many times I do my self,” Maria stated.

“Maria, don’t ever compare yourself to some street hooker. We are doing this for Isabel and maybe, for many other women out there,” Michael pleaded.

“If this wasn’t for Isabel you wouldn’t ever talk me into doing this,” Maria explained.

Cops who work vice like Maria had done, especially women police can develop some interesting feelings about what they are doing. They call prostitution the oldest profession. Philosophers, pundits and self proclaimed curmudgeons have discussed this act deep into the dust. Is the difference between a wife and a working whore only the fact that the wife doesn’t get paid as well? Was the original Eve wiggling her tail to encourage Adam to eat the apple and get the same punishment as she? Is any contract between two consenting adults illegal? Any city of any size has trouble with panhandlers and street merchants. The street whore fits here. Unless they are checked, all of these can get aggressive in your face, until it is no longer safe to walk the streets. The vice cop is much like the herd dog out west with a flock of sheep. They can’t destroy all the coyotes, but they can keep them far enough from the flock that the sheep go about their business with contentment and loss of fear.

Maria was adjusting her short black skirt. Her bright red panties would be seen if she bent or stretched any direction. Her blouse was opened to the navel, held to conceal her nipples only with double sticky tape. Michael was dressed in a suit. The fact that the suit had come from a costume store didn’t register when he stood beside Maria. The suit was an almost electric blue. His yellow tie and his white suede shoes completed the effect. They were all set out to go ‘possum hunting.’

Selenas and Modek had located the victim. He was trolling in a hotel night spot. When Michael with the vivacious Maria on his arm entered the darken room, there wasn’t a person who didn’t notice them. Michael made a big show of seating Maria on a bar stool and handing her a fifty dollar bill along with a key card to one of the hotel rooms.

Grant felt used. He should have been used to that by now. Hadn’t that bitch Isabel used him before? He should have never left her before. If he remembered correctly, he had stripped her down and was getting ready to plunge. Fuck’er ‘til she couldn’t stand and then, as they lay quietly in bed exhausted from their exertions, ask her for that sports car he wanted. He never even initiated his first foray. He had this compelling desire, not for the beautiful body under him, but for that street hooker he had met a few nights before. Like a man in a trance, Grant put his clothes back on, walked down the street and handing the hooker a hundred dollar bill they proceeded to the hotel where she maintained a semi permanent residence of business. She dropped her dress and he struggled back out of his pants and as they got down to business, the door burst opened. The pictures in the tabloids, the gossip on the night shows, Grant hadn’t even seen that Evantide woman, much less talked to her before their meeting the other day. Grant felt bad that he had, again, lost her as she went running out of the bar. His new friends assured him that she would come around. Meantime, Grant needed to feed his over active libido. He really wanted a rich older broad to fuck, but when he saw Maria, he thought, “Her professional skills must be top rate.” Grant was at her side and buying a drink that he didn’t know was totally virgin. Maria knew very well, how to troll for johns.

Laughing and stumbling they made it up to the room marked on the key card she held. Again Grant had these thoughts, “She must be an expensive whore, but very naïve. This drunk, she must have had a head start on him, he might even get out of paying her.”

Grant took the keycard she handed him and opened the door. Politely he allowed Maria to go first. Grant was a believer of even treating a whore like a lady until they were down to business. Sometimes this chivalrous treatment earned Grant a little bonus. It couldn’t hurt.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg7, ch17, cc, 8/4/2012

Post by ken_r » Sun Aug 12, 2012 9:15 pm

begonia9508: That is correct. The past belongs to the individual and shouldn't bother their partner unless they bring the past back with them.

keepsmiling7: Vice is complicated. It brings other crime along with it.

mary mary: Yes he is in deep shit, but he is showing the police that they need to learn a lot more.

Chapter 18

As soon as Maria was through the doorway, two pairs of hands yanked Grant the rest of the way into the room. A hood was quickly slipped over his head and he was forced to lie face down on the bed. His hands were quickly tied. The next thing he knew was that he was sitting on a high backed chair, his legs taped to the chair and through the hood he saw that the lights were now on bright. Grant still couldn’t make out who was holding him. Looking at her cleavage and the panties under the short skirt, Grant hadn’t paid that much attention to what the whore looked like.

Maria took the first crack to their hostage. “Grant, you have been making some new friends,” the female voice said.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” grant replied.

“Oh, oh Grant, baby, you do know that you are sitting here buck naked,” Maria said as she poured ice water in his lap.

Grant was struggling, trying to remember when they had removed his clothes. He couldn’t feel the clothes, so they probably had taken them. He felt the ice water. He could only wonder what else they had in store. His bare feet started burning, what the hell were they pouring on his feet. Grant tried to scream, but he found he couldn’t. “Oh come on, Grant. We want to leave something left to bury,” a strange voice commented.

Grant shivered. “They are powerful people; they promised to protect me,” he whimpered.

“Protect you, Grant, I don’t see anyone here who will protect you,” a new voice stated.

Grant felt the room was getting hotter and hotter. He had no idea how many people were in the room. The voices came from all directions. “They have great political power,” Grant struggled to say it.

“We have political power, Grant. Did you vote? Did you? You? And, you?” Grant heard the questions and also, heard replies from different parts of the room. There must be many people squeezed into this hotel room.

“I met them in a bar,” Grant divulged.

“In a bar, in a bar, are bars the only places you frequent?” a voice asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. What did they want him to say he wondered?

“What’s wrong, Grant? No more beaches to cruise. What happened, did the old body go to flab? What was the name of that rich broad you had by the tail, Evantide or something like that?” another voice asked.

“Yeah, Isabel Evantide, that was her name. They promised that I would have her again, kneeling, kissing my feet. They gave me a box to use if any of her body guards showed up. It even protected me from her, but I got caught off guard. She managed to slip away.” Grant, in some part of his brain, wondered why he gave out so much information.

“Where is that box?” the voice asked.

“It is in my coat pocket,” Grant replied.

Grant heard a lot of mumbling that he couldn’t understand; then, the voice clearly stated, “We have part of what we want, put him down.”

Grant fought his bonds. They were going to put him down like an aged dog, just shoot him in the middle of the street. He couldn’t manage to get free. The darkness started. Grant’s body relaxed. Michael Guerin, Fred Modek and Al Selenas all walked out of the room. They were followed by Maria DeLuca and Tess Valenti. Grant stayed under for almost 12 hours. When he woke up, he had a terrible hang over. His head wanted badly to leave his body. There were dreams that lingered with him. Some woman, he couldn’t remember what she looked like, was wearing red panties. Several people had asked him questions. Then he felt of his pocket, the box was gone. Grant sat up. There was no evidence that anyone, but himself, had ever been in the room. He thought about going down to the bar. That didn’t appeal to him this morning. Maybe, he would go have breakfast and then look for a job. He was wondering what skills he had, maybe, sell used cars or something.


They were all again in Little Napoleon’s office the chief, the captain, Isabel and Tess, along with Liz’s squad of DeLuca, Evans, Guerin, Modek and Selenas. This wouldn’t take long. Liz hadn’t realized how deep Guerin’s conspiracy had gone. She and Evans were the only ones not included. Maria started, “Isabel, I don’t think Grant will bother you anymore. Tess left him with a vision of being tied to a bed with you standing over him, holding a butcher knife and explaining that you were going to remove his privates. She said she made it pretty vivid, Technicolor and such.”

Max pointed to the box on Liz’s desk. “What are we going to do with that thing?” he asked.

“Any of you guys wanna tell me how you got it?” Liz asked.

Michael had the typical smirk on his face, “Now, Lieutenant, it is already done. If someone is gonna raise hell, they will already be planning on doing it. Why worry yourself about something that may never come to pass. Grant has so many problems that I don’t think he even wants to think about Isabel. This thing, whatever it is, was a present. We need to worry about who gave it to him. He doesn’t really know himself.” Michael could be so logical if you followed his logic. Liz looked around and Maria had a infuriating smile, but she said nothing. The other detectives and Tess had totally blank expressions. Liz did think that she saw a twinkle in Tess’s blue eyes. Isabel once said that Tess had stronger mental powers than any of the others.

About the box, Liz hadn’t touched it. Knowing so little about it, anything she might do could trigger something they didn’t understand. “We get it over to alien forensics. We need to know if it is something they brought from Antar or is it home grown and we have to expect more of them,” she explained. “I need to talk to Roslyn Smith anyway. She needs to announce that Saturday, by alien tradition, I will be joined with Max. I just hope I can fulfill that position,” Liz concluded.

That afternoon, while Liz was at the forensic lab, Max received a delivered message. “Your majesty, you wanted to know about those who executed Margret Olson. Meet us at the High Point.”

It was unsigned, but by the terse tone of the note, Max was sure that it came from the dissident village on the other side of the mountain. High Point was the highest point on a pass which went through the mountain. Until modern times, that is, the twentieth century, to go from one side of the mountain to the other, except by horse or mule, you had to go way to the north or way to the south and go around the mountain. The pass was a natural crack in the seismic mountain. On the Metropolis side of the mountain, the mountain was almost a cliff almost 5,000 feet high. The rolling hills were the result of erosion of debris falling off the cliff. On the village side of the mountain, it was gently sloped showing that the mountain had just lifted up for some reason. The pass through the middle of the mountain was a ravine. When the road was made, it rose through the pass until it got to the sloping part of the mountain. Then, it was a gentle slope to the plains beyond. When you finally got to the high point, it was all down hill the rest of the way, thus the café named, High Point.

Max sat alone at a table. The natural night noises were heard between the noises of the large trucks shifting gears to make the last climb until they could almost free wheel down the eastern side. High Point was a trucker stop as well as a potty break for families going through the pass. A whore or two had come over to talk to Max, but they soon saw that he wasn’t interested so they left him alone. These women knew that they would be ignored, except by the truck drivers they were seeking if they used common sense and didn’t bother travelers, families or business men not interested in entertainment.

Three men walked in. They were laborers of some type, probably farmers or cowboys as there was little or no industry on this side of the mountain. The women looked up and they could tell that these men were not interested either. The three moved over to the booth where Max sat. Max noticed that one of them sat beside him and made it difficult to draw his Glock if things went bad. The other two sat opposite Max and sat quietly until coffee was poured.

“We tell you what we know and you stay out of the village,” one said as a statement not as a question.

Max took it as a question, “No, I can’t promise that. You are part of the community and even though you don’t want to have any truck with the rest of us, you are still here. Now, if you don’t get in any trouble, we never have to bother you. My only interest in you is that once you housed the murderers of Margret Herrera Olson, a clone of the queen mother. Unless you can make a case that she was doing something against the people or against the humans of Earth, I hold her as an upright citizen.” Max watched the two aliens opposite him as he talked. There were no surprises. This was what they were expecting. They wanted to state once again their independence and Max let them. They could not keep believing that the rest of the world did not exist. The two men across from Max shrugged. One of them opened his shirt and pulled out a file from where he had been carrying it. “This is as much as we know at this time,” he said curtly.

Max accepted the file envelope and nodded. “We thank you,” he said.

The men stood and Max expected them to leave. They stood for several seconds almost looking embarrassed. Finally, one man said almost apologetically, “We understand the queen is going to formally accept her position with the people this weekend. Now, this is from our wives, understand. They wanted to send her some token of good will,” he finished as he handed Max a box from his pocket.

The man beside him quickly spoke up. “This don’t change nothing, mind you. We still don’t want no truck with no royals. That woman with you the other day, she seemed like a good woman, strong, smart and other things what make her a good woman and a good queen. We don’t think she would ever be like that bitch, the queen mother. Margret probably wasn’t like the queen mother either. Things is done. Done’s passed. …” he looked like he wanted to say more, but it had taken a lot to go as far as they all did. The three men left in the night. Max could hear their old pickup as it grinded gears getting up to the highway.

Max sat for several minutes thinking. He got two more refills of coffee and finally asked for a piece of pie, then changed the order to donuts when he spied them in a case on the counter. There was a wound here that needed to be repaired. All the people who had migrated to Earth had done so because they were independent. The plan was that there would be some sort of government for the aliens to turn to. Well, the plan was that they were to take over Earth. Max kept wondering if the granolith had anything to do with the changes. He sighed. Humans believed there were greater forces than the granolith. Well, some one made that confounded contraption. Max wondered, was there someone or some thing sitting at the top. Did every thing happen for a reason? He left a good tip to cover all the coffees. He needed to get back to the office and see what these man had learned.


Maria lay in Michael’s arms. He was her husband and she was his wife on several planes. Her golden princess Leia loin cloth thrown on the bed. On the floor was the Darth Varder mask that she had practically forced Michael to wear. Princess Leia had just finished pleading for the evil Darth Vader to free her people and not destroy her planet. She had pledged her honor, her virture and finally, with a florish as she ripped the loin cloth from her body and threw herself upon him. At that point Michael had removed the mask and taking his naked wife in his arms, he showed her that she was his as well as he was hers. Both to do with the other as they wished.

“Are you going to the wedding?” Maria asked.

“I think so,” Michael answered.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asked.

“Probably not a good idea. I already spoke to Big Jim and Amy. This will probably be aliens only. I don’t know how they might treat you. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Michael said.

“Buster, just one minute there. What about Liz? She is human, isn’t she?” Maria ask sharply.

Michael wasn’t trying to be funny. Maria saw that he was deadly serious. “I am not so sure about Liz being completely human anymore. Max and I will be there to protect her. After all, she is our lieutenant. Remember you have a human wedding to put on Sunday when we get back. It is for the department, all her friends and Luigi who are expecting you to decorate Saturday. You don’t want to disappoint Luigi. He almost cut us off when Swartz was here. We want to keep him happy,” Michael explained. Maria wondered, had Michael ever eaten at Luigi’s. They didn’t serve cheese burgers, but they might have some sort of very spicy pizza.

With a little tickling, Maria finally lost her mad and started purring like a kitten. Thinking of his good fortune, Michael thought, Alex had it right, “God bless the machine.” Someone had surely done fine when they paired Michael up with this little vixen. Wait a minute, they had originally been paired by Lieutenant Parker. Well, that was one more reason to protect Liz and assure her she had friends close by, when she was surrounded, by aliens.


Isabel was talking to Alex. “I will be fine, Alex. Tess, Michael and I are going to escort Liz to the alien village Saturday. Maria is planning a big shindig for Sunday when we get back. Maria ordered an extra case of Snapple for Michael and any aliens who want to follow. She ordered several kegs of German beer for the humans. The boys all assure me that Grant will stay far away. With the alien firepower we will have in the car, I don’t think these mysterious people will stir up anything. I imagine Max and Michael will even still have their Glocks. Michael is getting lazy. He says he would rather just plug some perp, than to fry him with alien powers. Max says he wants to meet with all of us Monday. He found out something from those people living on the other side of the mountain. I tried to get him to take a longer time off. The dumb shit is only going to get Sunday night as a honeymoon. Max says that as soon as this is all over he and Liz are going to take some quality time off. I hope he does. Someone said Liz is getting some alien powers. If he, Max, doesn’t take time off, she should fry his ass. Max has always been too serious. With the great playgirl we see in Liz, I wonder if either of them really know how to have a totally, lavish, hedonistic honeymoon.” None of the humans were very happy about their aliens going off with out them. Max and Isabel were not that positive, having never seen an alien royal wedding before. Only the older aliens, who remembered Antar could remember how a royal wedding was conducted. Some of the aliens had seen the one when the old queen mother married the king, but that was a long time ago and memories dimmed.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
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Posts: 860
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Location: New Mexico

Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg8, ch19, cc, 8/19/2012

Post by ken_r » Sun Aug 19, 2012 11:06 am

begonia9508: Just be careful in who you buy used cars from.

keepsmiling7: The box has an important meaning.


mary mary

Chapter 19

It was Saturday night. Liz was lying in bed with her alien husband. They were exhausted. Not from exercise, but from the strain of it all. Liz and Max hadn’t yet made love to each other. It wasn’t from any moral issue, before the ceremony or whatever this was, Liz was hesitant of going to Max until she was sure she was going to commit. Now, neither Liz nor Max could do more than hold each other. Max had always told Liz that he had never had any doubts. If they hadn’t been together every minute of the last several days, she might have thought Max had a special session with the granolith. That is the only reason Liz felt that Max could be so sure. When she mentioned this, Max smiled and said, “Liz, I can’t think of any other person who would fit the roll of queen better than you. I never knew how soon we would be united; I was just always sure that we eventually would. I think your religions call this faith.”

The ceremony had started several weeks ago. Roslyn Smith had started it when she gave Liz the biographies of as many queens as they had preserved records of. No one knew where it came from, but the granolith produced a certified copy of a “Bona fide” approval. Someway it was in the hands of one of the eldest women. Much of the ceremony was produced in her mind. This is why Michael felt the humans would not enjoy the ceremony. Every speaker in her mind felt different. No names were given. She hadn’t had time to ask Max about this. She was told that certified meant that her name, but not her biography, was on record with the other queens. One lady approached Liz and taking both of her hands, she explained that once entered as the queen, there was no way out. Liz could turn into a bad queen and she could even be executed, but there would never be a way to be un-queened. If the king misbehaved, the queen could go to the elders if she wanted. They could straighten him out if necessary. If either of them took another lover, mediators would be assigned to monitor their actions for the good of the people. As she spoke, the woman smiled at the terrified Liz. “On the positive side of being queen, you will have tremendous power. It is very rare for the king and queen to have marital trouble, the last royal couple excepted,” the lady stated.

Max and Liz stood for almost an hour staring into each other’s eyes. Liz felt herself fall into a trance. In her mind, two avatars walked a meadow of wild flowers. As they walked, Liz felt that they exchanged their entire lives with each other. They formed a connection that could only be broken by death.

In some corner of her mind, Liz knew that Max knew all about her boyfriend who had been abducted. He knew about the prom she missed, but somewhere in her dream, there was stored that Max made it all up to her. There were so many hard times she had growing up, but in her false memory, those hard times were always made right by Max.

Liz also, saw Max as he fell out of the pod, coughed for air and finally following the wet footprints of the first child and followed by Isabel down off the cliff to the flats. Growing up rich wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She felt Max as he heard the rumors of Isabel with the football team. The shame he felt as his sister was debased by so many boys. True she got even with all of them, but while Isabel went from party to party, Max took another path. Max joined Michael as they searched for something of service. Max was different, but the community he found himself in had given him so much. This difference should be directed towards making the community of the people fit in with humanity.

Wasn’t all of that enough to wear each other out? They did fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Sunday morning and for the first time in several years, Sean DeLuca woke up with a hard on. He went to Mass, said a prayer and Sunday night he was at a whorehouse blowing away much of his savings.

It was late morning when they awoke. Liz didn’t feel any different than she did any other day. She was a little disappointed that being queen didn’t have some obvious signs. All of her immediate concerns were swept away as Max pulled her close and slowly, they began a journey that would take the rest of their lives of making and being in love. Max didn’t have a love tool ten inches long. He didn’t have royal, alien, stamina to make love infinitely numbers of times. He didn’t have anything which would surpass Isabel’s ex-lover, Grant. What Max did have was more caring than Liz had ever experienced. He was telling her that it wouldn’t be his fault that their marriage wasn’t wonderful. He kept telling her that he would always be there for her. Liz wondered why he kept doing this over and over. This would bring up questions later. For now they had to hurry back to metropolis and Maria’s party


Maria had been three places at once ever since noon. An Episcopalian priest had spoken over Max and Liz. He had embraced their union as a move in the union of two different cultures. Looking at the couple in front of him, he wondered where the difference came from. They were both experienced members of the police force. What you saw with Liz was about all she had. Max, on the other hand, was from a well known wealthy family. The priest had been asked to say this in his blessing. For some reason it was important to several present.

Maria hadn’t seen Michael for most of the afternoon. Max and Liz had gone to Max’s apartment until arrangements could be made to move into a house. The Evans family owned several. As guests filtered out, Maria looked about her yard. The many guests had left a mess. On duty cops had come and gone all afternoon. When Max and Liz attempted to drive off to their apartment, a siren escort made their departure and arrival anything, but discrete. Maria felt exhausted as she opened a box of plastic trash bags. What was the little Red Hen story from childhood? The little Red Hen had done all the work planting, harvesting, baking until she had finished the cakes. Then, all the animals arrived at once to help her eat the fruits of her labors. Well, the animals had finished the cakes and Maria was left to clean up. Suddenly Michael, Modek and Selenas appeared and taking a bag apiece, they quickly cleaned up. Maria suspected they used a might of alien magic to help, but as he kissed her Michael said, “You didn’t think we would leave all the work for you alone, did you?” Michael leaned over and kissed her again.


Monday morning came way too soon for the newly weds. As they met in Liz’s office, Max took out the file he had been given by the pair at the “High Point.”

“I have only had Friday night to study this, but it is very important. For me, taking my wedding vows, this information, was a bit scary. The queen mother has been blamed for every bad thing that happened to the Antarian monarchy. The queen mother wouldn’t listen to the granolith, but the old man wasn’t any saint either. The palace had a room for royal schools. Children of those at court as well as the royal children attended this school. Seems the old man added enough of his bastard off spring, to keep the school going. Reading this as I launched upon the start of my own family was unsettling, to say the least.

When the palace fell, Nicholas went through all those at court testing to see where their loyalties lay. Those who showed loyalty towards the royal family were killed immediately. Those who showed anger towards the royal family for getting Antar into this situation were kept to study, some lived and some were executed. Among those who lived was a young man fathered by the king. Apparently he embraced Kivar and Nichols not only let him live, but also brought him along with them to Earth. It was his group who murdered Margret Olson. This man now, may be the greatest danger to humans and aliens there is. According to the file, he has disappeared into a super secret political organization here on Earth.” Max looked around at the group. “Robert LaShelle worked for an organization, started by his old man, which studied relations between conflicting cultures. LaShelle was very aware of the aliens. He met with many of the elders in secret. They gave him the royal sign to protect his family. It might be believed that he learned something that he wasn’t supposed to know.” It was a big file and Max was sure that there was a lot more to learn. He was occupied with his wedding after all. He would get to it as soon as possible.

Liz spoke up, “LaShelle took two 38s to the chest. That doesn’t sound alien, does it?”

“Whoever this royal bastard is, he joined an organization already in existence. The organization was human,” Max told them.

“Ah…humm,” was heard from Alex clearing his throat and getting their attention. “This information can’t go any further than this room. I have a man in deep cover. He was giving me information about Nicholas when we were concerned about him. He has let drop a few cryptic comments about a mysterious powerful group. So far, that is all he knows. He was studying aliens when he ran across this group.”

The group stood up. The civilians would go home and the detectives had many other cases to work on. Alex handed Liz an envelope, which was marked urgent from the police commission. The envelope lay on her desk as she stared at it. It wasn’t going away and Liz feared that since she and Max were now married by two cultures, human and alien, the commission was finally going to invoke the rule that spouses could not work in the same department. It might even spread over to cover Maria and Michael. Liz in her mind had just started to feel the wonders of marriage to the king. Now, was this going to derail everything? Try as hard as she might, none of her powers as the queen could make the envelope go away. With a sigh and a shrug, she took the switch blade knife out of her desk and sliced the envelope open.

Liz knew that the department had taken a blow from the predations of Swartz. No one had yet been appointed to the position of lieutenant over the detective squad. Two slips of paper dropped to her desk. Picking up one of them, she almost fainted, “Lieutenant Elizabeth Parker was now the lieutenant to the whole detective squad. Liz gave up trying to read the commission. Alex had told her before that they had rejected her and he couldn’t find where her opposition came from. Richards was a city commissioner, but he interfered with great regularity with the police department. This time, apparently it was unanimous. Her appointment was solid. The second slip of paper was even more surprising, she had been given a secretary. One Teresa Harding would report tomorrow as secretary to the lieutenant. There had always been questions about Kyle and his father, both being on the department. Big Jim had been so hard on Kyle, in his rookie years, that no one cast a question about favoritism. The rule about nepotism or employing family members still was on the books, it was also, conveniently ignored. Now, the wife of the deputy chief was working as a civilian employee under her maiden name. That was sure to raise eyebrows. Maybe the fact that she was working for Little Napoleon would make her bullet proof, also.

The office of Little Napoleon had been an enclosure located in the far rear of the open floor allotted to the detectives. Maria, Max and Michael would work from there, preserving the unusual crimes unit. Liz was sorry that a promotion in rank for Maria wasn’t part of the package. Maria’s answer was, “Chica, be content that now we all will work as a team. After all, I am the only sergeant to have a private office.

The office of first, Lieutenant Whitman and later Lieutenant Swartz was enclosed with glass so anyone entering the floor from the elevator would be readily seen. Liz, now, had her desk in this office and just outside her door facing in a way that she, also, would see anyone entering the floor from the elevator was the desk of her secretary, Teresa Harding-Valenti.

Fortunately, Alex had done what he could to heal the mistakes of Swartz, but they were still way down in manpower. They needed that new crop of rookies to free up some street cops to plain clothes. Lieutenant Parker let it be known that she intended to interfere as little as possible with the smooth running of the department.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Little Napoleon pt 2, mature, pg7, ch18, cc, 8/12/2012

Post by ken_r » Sat Aug 25, 2012 9:13 pm

begonia9508: Our house is very old and doesn't have very good air conditioning. The fear of the unknown was what kept Liz from accepting for so long. The death of Robert LaShelle was what reminded Liz about duty and responsibility. LaShelle had tried to make possible for his family to be recognized by the aliens.

keepsmiling7: Again these were things which scared Liz.

mary mary: There are many powerful secret forces which both help Liz and the other aliens and also oppose them.

Chapter 20

Alex was going through his emails. The name Zapata shook him out of any blahs he had over his morning duties. “Congrats to the queen. Her seismic presence has been felt all the way to the ‘Beltway.’” It was signed Zapata.

Alex knew that the beltway meant the official government located in Washington DC as well as in the neighboring states. That was the heart of the country. Again, Alex was protective of information given by Zapata. There really wasn’t any information here except that Liz becoming queen of the aliens who supported the royals, was felt by aliens everywhere. It was also felt by some in a dark organization, who sought power. They did not see Liz as a support to this quest for power. Then did they see the queen as their enemy?

It was late in the afternoon. Tess had been working hard with Liz to get all the records organized where they were useful. Swartz had a different way of viewing records, mainly ignoring those he didn’t think would advance himself. A slight, elderly Hispanic man exited the elevator and approached Tess’s desk. “Teresa, my dear, could you arrange an interview with the lieutenant?” he requested.

Normally, Tess would have been in her right to explain that the lieutenant was extremely busy this afternoon. Her job was to filter out personages who wanted to take up the lieutenant’s time. This time, she could neither sense alien nor human, but she could sense power. Anyone this closed down should probably be given an immediate audience with the lieutenant. “One minute please,” she said.

Liz saw the man walking with a silver-topped cane. His Hispanic heritage was obvious even before he started speaking. He was dressed in a gray suit and Liz could almost bet he knew Max’s tailor. His tie was of the, broader cut, out of current style. It was hand painted with some sort of Spanish mission. His bright brown eyes were almost sparkling above his gray mustache drooping over his manicured goatee. He stood in front of her desk and spoke, “Lieutenant, or your majesty, or I understand sometimes you prefer Liz.”

Liz didn’t know this man. Later she asked herself why she felt the necessity to explain in such detail. “If it is police business, it is lieutenant or detective. If it is personal or alien business it is Liz,” she answered. Liz was watching him closely as she said the word alien. He didn’t flinch a bit.

“Then it is Liz, although what I have to say concerns all three categories. My name is Simon Ortiz. The last few years my business has been to cause you trouble,” he stated.

Liz frowned as she asked, “Trouble, how so?”

Simon didn’t answer at first. “Ah, Liz, it has been my choice to adopt a Hispanic life style. Everything revolves around me at a so much slower pace. I gave into Swartz, because in some way, I owed him a favor. I gave into Richards, because he asked for a favor. The two fit together so perfectly. Richards doesn’t like you very much,” he explained.

Liz shook her head. “No, he doesn’t,” she answered. Then, she continued. “What is your purpose now?” she asked

“You are now the queen. I am no longer your enemy, if I ever was. I just haven’t been supporting you as much as I should have. As long as you listen to its advice, the granolith completely supports you. My playing with humanity has to take second place to your welfare. You have to decide how far you want to take your current investigation. The fruits of their plots will not take place in your lifetime. You could ignore them and live your life with your king. Or, you can continue and risk destruction. Destruction even with all the protection you are given,” He stated.

“Live a happy life and leave this menace for my children to fight?” Liz said it as a question.

Simon sighed. “A queenly answer with a question. Not one which your predecessor would have given. She was much too concerned with her own plans to worry about her children or even the clones of her children. Truthfully, it’s the answer I expected. The weight of those from Antar will fall on you and try to protect you. Trust the machine. Remember, we have no idea of where it comes from. Trust she who is closest to you. Trust he who now holds your heart.” Simon smiled. “Keep a ready Glock and Liz, buy a backup weapon.” Simon stood and reaching out his frail hand for her to grasp, he said, “Via con Dios.”

Liz thought this was strange. Most of the aliens did not embrace a religion unless they were married to humans. Liz didn’t know what was believed on Antar, but there seemed little religious dogma that they wanted to preserve. His hand appeared frail, but when she took it, his handshake was strong and something seemed to flow between them. Liz found some sort of contentment in talking to Simon. Liz had no idea of why she said what she did. As she looked him in the eyes, she said firmly, “Via con Dios, Simon.” Then, she added, “May God protect all of your labors.” Liz didn’t consider herself particularly religions, but she felt that Simon should receive protection for his works, also.

After Simon had left, Liz stood and walked out of her office, all the time staring at the elevator. Tess walked up to Liz, “Who was that masked man? Did he leave you a silver bullet?” she asked with a chuckle.

Liz knew that Tess was referring to the old story of the “Lone Ranger,” who was always in the background helping people. For a true foreigner, Tess picked up Earth idioms quickly.


Michael found the relationship between José and Maria intriguing. José had placed Maria’s body out for display. He admitted that he made a fortune allowing men to ogle what she had. On one level, Michael had a tinge of jealousy, which in itself was not alien like, that other men saw what should be reserved for him alone. Then, he saw that José had allowed Maria an avenue to complete her college education. The daughter of a single mother, who had only the earnings of a hippy souvenir shop to hold them together would not have had much chance at the education Maria obtained. Desperation could have driven Maria into another field. As a decoy for the vice cops, she clearly could demonstrate her salability. Liz helped Maria get out of vice and into detective work. José seemed happy that in someway, he had helped this vivacious blonde to what she was today. José called.

On arrival, they exchanged greeting as they did every time. “José, ¿que pasa?” Maria called out.

“Maria, Babee,” he answered. “You quit the wicked police and come back to dance and make enough money so you and the big guy can take time off to make babies,” he called out.

“Not yet, José. You called that you had some information?” she asked.

Michael noticed that José looked around. José was usually pretty secure about himself, because he had his friends and family around him for protection. This time he was genuinely worried. José lowered his voice and Michael noticed half of his accident disappeared. “Maria, let this one go,” José pleaded.

“I can’t do that José. You know that,” Maria explained.

“Maria, half los gentes think he will run the Anglos off and we will return to our former glory. Former glory, my ass! Juarez drug wars. Inflation even worse than what we have now. Hell, here we have some of our smartest people in congress as representation. We would have had a chance at the presidency, if the man could have controlled his sticky fingered support team. Maria, I plead. This is too big. Let it go,” José told her.

“Sorry, no can do. José,” Maria said.

José reached forward and taking both of her hands he whispered, “I will have the whole family saying Rosaries for you,” then he turned to Michael, “You say you have powers. Use them, big fellow. Protect her no matter what.”

Michael understood the seriousness of his voice. “With my life, José, with my life.”

José, then still keeping his voice low said, “They have been around for a long time, some say since the Civil War. Some say, they came from Europe, maybe dating back to the crusades. They usually stay in the background. They attract the young, the intellectual, the ones who are dissatisfied with their lives. They offer whatever sounds good. They make presidents; they make politicians they are very powerful.”

Leaving José who once again pleaded to let it go, Michael and Maria returned to the station. “Michael, I am scared,” Maria confessed.

Michael nodded and said, “I know. It is like waking up and finding you are only a cockroach in the kitchen of giants,” he mumbled.

Maria swatted him. “I don’t think I want to wake up to find I am a cockroach,” she said.

Somehow, they had stumbled into the biggest secret in human history. Nicholas was small potatoes, as the humans would say. Now that fellow Kivar, he might be a real tough cookie. Nicholas had been his right hand and the king had led the fight to send Nicholas far, far away. Nicholas was pure evil. Michael hoped the humans were right and there was a hell. If there was, Michael hoped that Nicholas reached there. Hell, Nicholas would probably end up being drinking buddies with Satan. They hadn’t stumbled onto Nicholas. Nicholas had used Antarian methods of murder to bring out the king. With the virginal clone Tess, Nicholas hoped to seduce the king. Bringing the king to Kivar would guarantee Kivar’s power. Now, they had unearthed an even greater evil. According to what Max had learned, they were not the first aliens to learn of this evil. One of the old Antarian king’s bastard sons had found it. For ages on Earth, there had existed an organization of power. It never appeared in the foreground and if what they were learning was true, this power controlled most of the power structures of Earth. Was a small group of aliens and humans in the Metropolis Police Department strong enough to fight it?


Everything now over, Max remembered the small box from the wives of the dissident aliens. Somehow, that gesture gave Max hope that he and Liz might heal some of the schisms that had occurred in the alien communities. Giving this box to Liz was the first step.

Liz opened the container and inside was another box. This one had the appearance of silver. Lifting it out of the container, Liz saw that it was heavier than expected. She was sure that it must be alien treated metal. Inside the silver box, Liz found some black sand. The sand sparkled as there were many inclusions mixed in with the black particles. “That is a strange gift for a queen,” Max said.

Liz wet her finger and touched the sand. Some of the particles clung to her finger. Lightly rubbing the particles across the glass of a picture of her parents she had on her desk, Liz saw scratches. Whatever was in the sand was much harder and sharper than glass. “Max, these are tiny diamonds in this sand. I am not sure, but I think this is sand from Antar. Someone carried this box all the way from their home planet. That someone has treasured their last touch with Antar for around 70 years. Max, do you think this is a symbol that they are getting ready to leave Antar behind and build new lives like the other aliens?” Liz asked.

“Maybe,” Max mused. “They may be testing us to see if we accept them. Seeing how we take this gift, seeing it as a vestige of Antar and not some worthless item,” Max concluded.

“Then, I will have to think of a gesture to show we understand,” Liz stated.


“Izzy,” being able to feel comfortable using a nickname was a milestone for Alex. “Izzy, I hadn’t told anyone about my informant. I still don’t want to say much about him. Whatever he is doing, I am sure that it is very dangerous. He clearly knows his way about aliens; this isn’t the first time I have wondered if he was an alien. He was mighty close to Nicholas when he was around. He warned me several times about what Nicholas was doing. Now, I get the idea that he has moved on to something bigger,” Alex tried to explain to his wife.

“Alex, did you ever meet him?” She asked.

“Yes, once. It was in a dark room and he was hooded so I couldn’t tell anything about him. He told me to take care of you,” Alex stated.

“So you were ordered to make me fall in love with you so you could take care of me?” Isabel asked petulantly.

“No, Izzy, I fell in love with you the first time we had coffee. I wouldn’t let myself get close, because I couldn’t understand what you could see in me. I imagine everyone falls in love with you at first meeting. I just held my self back, because of disbelief,” Alex said.

Isabel was now sitting in his lap. She shifted to find a more comfortable position. Alex hadn’t yet removed his Glock and it was sticking her in her hip. This squirming around was as erotic to Alex as would have been one of Maria’s lap dances. Alex had never had a professional do it. Holding Isabel’s body was erotic enough for him.

Isabel thought, “If Alex had come on to her as strong as Kyle, she probably would have treated him like she had treated lovers since childhood. Alex’s self doubt made Isabel continually prove to him how much she really cared. He had thrown himself on that monster, Nicholas, without knowing or without thinking. Someone like Grant would probably offered up her virtues, for his safety, if they had ever been in danger. Now, Alex was digging deeper and deeper into some unknown danger. Isabel had to make sure he knew her powers would always be with him, someway that wouldn’t unbalance his own ego and self-esteem. Hey, Alex was no longer that geek from high school, he was a big time tough guy; he was the captain of the detective squad.”


Kyle always had a fantasy that he would fuck every woman in the world. Striving for impossible dreams was what kept him going. Tess had given him another impossible direction. Come to her only and forsake all others and she would be more than any fantasy. It was a long time before she revealed to Kyle that he had been the only man she had ever known. Her skill came from his memories and fantasies. Nicholas had only filled her with what was her duty to seduce the king. When she met Max, his sign had already been given to another. Too late, now Tess needed a man of power to love. As Isabel’s secretary then abandoned during the times Isabel was seducing or at least investigating, Alex, Tess found Kyle. Kyle thought he had been the one doing the finding. Kyle fought the monsters of his life, he finally brought home the golden-fleece and his reward was Tess, more than any fantasy. Kyle’s friends would have said, “Keep the little woman well fucked, pregnant and in the kitchen.”

Kyle was okay on the first part, he had hopes for the second. Tess told him she wanted to take a job. She had been offered the position as secretary to the lieutenant of the detective squad. To Kyle’s surprise, no one raised the complaint of nepotism. The rule that spouses couldn’t work in the same department had already fallen by the wayside.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-