Oren was drenched in his own sweat while stowed away in a hotass shed behind Saint JohnChrysostom Greek Orthodox Church near Oak Grove. His brain was pounding. He stepped outside to heave and he found a puddle of petrified and fly infested vomit resting in the ankle high grass. He reckoned that it must have come from him. He didn’t recall. He didn’t recall much of anything from the hours prior. But the late summer mugginess beared down on him like a woolen blanket and he stumbled back into the shed and reached for an old aluminum canteen with only a speckle of water remaining. The piss warm liquid soothed his throat momentarily and then he coughed and collapsed to his knees. While fetaled on the ground, the priest came in. The holy man helped him back to his bed and offered him a white paper cup. When Oren looked at the cup’s contents, he nearly heaved again. After stirring the orangish ooze, the priest placed a small pill in his hand and Oren side eyed him.
“The fuck is this?”
“It’s Beano.”
“What for?”
“It’s for them boiled peanuts. Them things are fart bombs.”
Oren shrugged and swallowed the pill. He picked up the stem of the fork and swooshed it around the cup. Then he sampled the food. It occurred to Oren that the devil himself must be nothing compared to the wrath of a Cajun man’s asshole. And despite a famished stomach, his throat resisted.
“Is this what you people eat down here?” he asked the Priest.
“Well, that and moon bugs.”
The priest reached into his cassock pocket and pulled out a small lobster-like creature. It crawled slightly in the palm of his hand. “I have a whole pool of these things out back. I can get a pot boiling and get em fixed up for ya.”
Oren shook his head. “I’ll stick with the boiled peanuts.”
The priest lifted his shoulders and placed the creature back in his pocket. Then he handed Oren a fresh canteen of water. “Who was that feller you was with last night?”
“What feller?”
“That white feller in the back of your truck.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Your brother?”
“I was adopted.”
“No shit?”
Oren winced as he shoveled more soggy legumes into the face hole. Then he took the fresh canteen and swallowed. “Think he survived the crash?”
“I know he did. The sheriff got him. But I reckon they think you’re dead.”
“Shit.”
“You’re goddamn right shit. Don’t know what they’ll do when they find out you’re not.”
“I gotta get him out of there.”
“Your brother? Good luck.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Not even the best pettifrogger from New Orleans can get a man out of a Moorhouse Parish jail. You have to consult with a higher power.”
“You?”
“That might not even be enough.”
The Priest’s ears perked up as the sound of crushed gravel whispered its way into the shed. He sprung up from the ramshackled cot and glanced through mud smeared glass to see a West Carroll Parish Sheriff’s cruiser pull up to the church. The priest turned to Oren. “Stay here,” he said.
Welcome to Utah the sign read. I knew exactly where we were headed; it was to the charred remains of the Candyland Brothel where so many of Randy’s victims met their end. It was at the thick of day when the Cadillac and limousine pulled off into an undisclosed dirt road and down through the mountain pass where we braved the threat of Penelope with the late Vic Weathers weeks earlier. It felt like ages ago. Finally we entered the dry lake basin and there in the center was the remains of Randy’s empire in the desert. With his pistol ready, the driver ordered us to exit the limo.
Randy climbed out of the driver’s seat of the Cadillac while gnawing on a Slim Jim. The Madam got out on the passenger’s side and Old Jim from the backseat. Randy offered Dale and me some of his processed jerky.
“Shove it up your ass,” I retorted to his offer. But Dale accepted.
Randy took a deep breath and looked around him. “Such a beautiful country,” he said.
“It’s dead,” I replied. “Just like I will be. And with any luck you will be too.”
He spat and shook his head. “Okay then,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I have something I want to say,” Dale interjected. “Before I die, I’d like to say I feel blessed to have had the time of my life. I never thought that…” But before he could finish, the driver lifted his Ruger to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. The bullet exited his forehead and his body fell limply to the ground.
I turned my eyes.
And when the shock of his death wore off, Randy signaled to the driver to shoot me next. “Just a moment,” Old Jim interrupted. “I’ll handle this.”
“Dad,” Randy pleaded, “just let him do it.”
“No no, it’s fine.”
Jim checked his six shooter and walked over to me. “Sorry James,” he informed me.
“I don’t take it personally,” I said.
Jim relieved the driver and I looked to the shadows on the ground to see his pistol aimed at my head. Then I looked Randy dead in the eye and the seconds felt like eternity.
There was a gun shot. I again looked at the shadows and watched the driver fall to the ground. When I turned around, he had a hole blasted through his temple.
“Dad! What are you doing?” Randy shouted.
“Well I figured I couldn’t shoot my own grandson,” Jim reasoned.
Randy and the Madam were stunned silent. I nodded a thanks to Jim and picked up the Ruger from the driver’s lifeless body. “Well Randy, it looks like you’ll be dead sooner than I expected,” I said.
“James, don’t be stupid,” he pleaded.
I looked at Dale’s corpse. “Don’t feel too bad for him,” I said to Randy. “He knew what was coming. What’s about to happen has nothing to do with that.”
“What’s about to happen?”
I looked to the mountain pass and then up at the lingering sun. “You claim this as your empire,” I said, “but you have a challenger. I suspect that the sun will set behind those mountains in about four hours. It’s possible to reach the pass before then. I would know.”
Then I shot him in the kneecap.
While he pathetically screamed in agony, I came closer. “Unfortunately I think you can still make it to the pass before Penelope can get to you,” I said, “so I’m gonna need an additional handicap.”
Randy finished his glass of scotch and paced around the basement. At that moment there was nothing I wanted more than to be done with this charade so I looked at Dale who was unbothered by this tension. “Well Randy,” I declared, “I don’t forgive you. So let’s stop pussyfooting around and get this over with.”
Randy stopped pacing and looked at the Madam and her eyes drifted to the floor. Then he sighed and poured another glass. “You know what this means don’t you?” he asked me.
“It means in a matter of minutes we’ll dead and buried,” I said plainly.
He swallowed the scotch whole. “But what about your friend there?” he asked, referring to Dale.
“Oh, me?” said Dale. “Yeah I’ve know that this was coming for a long time.”
I could’ve been wrong but I thought I saw a small tear streaking down Randy’s cheek. Whatever emotions he might’ve been feeling, he concealed them well with his following statements. “Okay then,” he said, “but I won’t do it here. This is my home. I wish that I could have given you a better ending but I must have you two escorted to the desert and shot. I’m very sorry.”
“Shove your apologies,” I said.
Randy signaled to the driver and the driver briefly left the room. A moment later, Old Jim stepped out from behind the door with his six shooter ready. “Jim!” I gasped.
“How’s your aim dad?” Randy asked him.
“I may be old, but I can still shoot the pecker off a…”
“Alright alright,” Randy interrupted him. “Take these men out to the desert and have them killed.”
“Dad?!” I shouted.
“Yeah, Old Jim is my dad. Which makes him your grandpa I suppose. I thought it was obvious. You’re both named James. Anyway, let’s get this show on the road…”
Christ, I thought. It was obvious. But it didn’t matter anymore. Old Jim and the driver approached us and took us by the arm. “Hello James,” Jim said to me.
“Jim! Papaw!”
“Papaw,” said Jim. “I remember my papaw. Legend has it that his dick was two feet long and he strangled Wild Bill Hickok with…”
“Dad!” Randy interrupted. “Enough with the stories! We have a job to do!”
“And where are you going?” I asked Randy as he was picking up several Manila envelopes.
“I have a meeting with the Vietnamese in an hour. Sorry that I can’t make it.”
“So a meeting with the Vietnamese is more important than the death of your own son?”
Randy stood motionless at my challenge. “But this is a very important meeting,” he said.
I shook my head. “How typical of Randy,” I said rhetorically. “He can’t even look his own son in the eye.”
He slammed the glass onto the tiled floor and it shattered into a thousand pieces. The Madam was startled by the sudden burst. “Alright! Goddamn you!” he shouted. “If this is what you want then I will grant you your last request! I will, by god, journey with you to the desert where you will meet your demise!”
“Thanks Randy,” I said. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Randy didn’t know what to make of Susan. He sipped the scotch mere feet from her face with her eyes bowed to the floor. I turned my head to see a tear stream down her face. Though this was the moment she had been waiting for, nothing had prepared her for it. “I don’t think I know you,” Randy said.
Susan palmed her eyes and lifted her head to face him. When I looked at Randy, I could tell he was genuinely perplexed. “Where is my mother?” Susan managed to squeak out.
Randy squinted his eyes and took another sip. He lowered the glass and placed it in his left hand. “Darling,” he said, putting his right hand to her cheek, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand your question.”
“Where is MY mother,” she repeated.
“If you could tell me who you are, perhaps I could help,” he said, taken back by her sudden forcefulness.
“Susan.”
“Susan who?”
“Susan Brucetti.”
He took his hand off her face and had another sip. “Brucetti?” he asked and swallowed hard. “I believe a Lyonette Brucetti was under my employment many years ago. Is that your mother?”
Susan nodded and lowered her head again. Randy’s face began to blush and he nervously scratched his head. “I’m afraid that I haven’t seen Lyonette in some time,” he explained. “Last I heard, she was living in Chico with her husband. I apologize, but I haven’t been keeping close tabs on her.”
“You’re a liar,” Susan said.
“Pardon?”
“You’re a liar. You sold her into sex slavery.”
“W-why would I do that?”
“Because that’s the kind of man you are!”
“Susan, sweetheart, I think you have the wrong idea. You see, Lyonette and I were lovers for a very long time. I loved her. Why would I sell someone I love into slavery?”
“Then why would she abandon me?!”
Randy turned around and refused to face us. He sat his glass of scotch down and rubbed his brow. “I’m sorry Susan,” he said, “had I of known, I would have done something.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had a child together. A girl.”
Susan looked at me with wide eyes. No words came. In real time I could see her heart sink to her feet and Dale shook his head. “Told you it was a mistake,” he uttered under his breath.
“Goddamnit Dale,” I said.
“What was a mistake?” asked Randy, still not facing us.
“Forget it,” I said.
“I’m gonna be sick,” said Susan.
Randy picked up the glass again and ignored the comment entirely. He turned around and leaned against the table. “Susan, my dear, I think you should leave,” he said. “I don’t want you to be a part of what’s about to happen.”
Susan quietly nodded and the driver took her by the arm and escorted her upstairs. She never looked back at me. She was defeated.
When she was gone and the shock wore off, I looked at Randy. “Two damaged children,” I said. “That’s your real legacy.”
I descended into the valley of opulence and avarice where blissful ignorance is felt in these enclaves. Protected by the herringbone floors and Italian marble, these people are shielded from the heat raging from the plebeians at the gate. I was an unwelcomed intruder in these parts, for as a weightless gadfly I shattered their pristine slant. Now they walk with their self-assured innocence, but later they possess a fate worse than hell.
Such was the gated community of ‘Big Dick Cedars’. I waltzed up to the guard gate where a large burly man with a stretched out polo and a 9mm was fingering his nose. He gazed upon me through rounded glasses and droopy eyes. “Hello sir. Welcome to Big Dick Cedars. Are you visiting someone today?” he asks.
“Yes. I’m here to see Randall J Furie,” I say.
“Is he expecting you?”
“He better be.”
The guard radios to another. “I’ll have someone meet you at the gate,” he says to me.
I step a few feet away to the main entrance. While I waited, I expected to be greeted by another dopey looking guard. But when the gate swung open it was the same man. “Welcome to Big Dick Cedars,” he says to me again, “please take a seat in the golf cart and I’ll escort you to Mr. Furie’s.”
I sit in the dilapidated cart. The leather seats were torn and one could barely see through the plexiglass windshield. When the guard turned the key, the cart pushed forward at a snail’s pace. I could have got out and walked faster. There were also speed bumps every 15 feet and the guard made it a point to hit every one. “You can never be too safe,” he told me as the cart struggled to hurdle the meager obstacle. 45 minutes later, in a walk that I could have made in 10, we arrive at Randall J. Furie’s Greek revival mansion.
The guard steps out of the cart and pulls up his sagging khaki pants then escorts me past the fountains and Maseratis to the front door. He knocks loudly then belches. “So you know Randall well?” he asks me.
“You’re goddamn right I do. And his name is Randy.”
The guard nods and pounds on the door again. When someone bothered to answer it, it was a tall and proper looking butler wearing all the proper butler garb. He opens the door and looks me up and down. “So you hea ta see Mista Furie?” he asks in an unexpected Cajun accent.
“Yup. The son of a bitch owes me money.”
“Come on in suh. Kick off your shoes n stay awhile.”
I step inside to the marble floors and kick off my shoes. I follow the gangly butler through the foyer, past the kitchen, down some corridors, past another kitchen, a billiards room, a home theater, a Subway stand, another kitchen, two replicas of the USS Defiant bridge from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, a toilet complete with a bidet, the servant’s quarters, some starving Vietnamese children, a Pol Pot memorabilia room, and finally to the reception room to Randy’s office. The secretary was none too pleased to see me.
“Mr. Furie is a very busy man,” that bitch of a secretary said. “Why didn’t you set an appointment?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business lady?” I responded.
“It’s quite alright Blanch,” a cheerful voice was heard from the other room. Randy stepped out from behind the leather padded door. He was shoeless and donning his signature wayfarers. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said to me with all smiles, “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Why am I doing this shitty cash grab for the studio?” I ask Dan after my summons to the production office. Kat was standing around dumbfounded as usual while Dick was menacingly stroking his chin in the corner.
“What else would you be doing with your life?” Dan questioned. “Raising a family? Have a love life? You’re none of those things. You’re a shark, James. You were put on this earth to do one thing: make movies.”
“I concur,” Dick interjected as he stepped out of the shadows. “This Jimmy fellow, he’s a piss ant. Now’s not the time to cower down and retreat to your home in the hills. Now’s the time to wear down your prey like a stalking lioness in the Serengeti.”
I nodded my head. It was hard to find fault in these gentlemen’s arguments. Then I turned to the lead producer. “What do you think Kat?” I ask.
She began to stammer. “I…I…I think right now we should be concerned with moving forward and making a good product,” she said.
“Quite right,” I agreed. “Perhaps I acted too hastily when I named Cornelius as director. I’ll let him and Greta know that I’ll be stepping back into my directorial duties.”
“No!” Dan angrily shouted. I was a bit taken aback by this sudden burst of emotion.
“But Dan, he’s just a kid. Literally!” Kat pleaded.
Dan tried to backtrack. “But this is the perfect opportunity to, to…,” he began to trail off. “…to let James step back while still being involved.”
Kat and I both found this excuse to be lacking. “You know I can’t let that happen,” Kat explained. “There’s too much money involved and…”
“Yes yes yes, the studio,” Dan interrupted. “Kat, you’re an accomplished producer but perhaps you should let the men do the talking.”
“Now Dan,” I said, “I’m as guilty of old timey sexism as the next guy, but even that was pretty low for me.”
The attorney came to his senses. “Right,” he nodded, “my apologies. I guess I’ve invested a lot of time into James that I don’t want my efforts to go to waste. But at any rate, Cornelius needs to stay on as a director. James, you mentor him. And I’ll remain on set and iron out any problems with the studio. That is all. Good day.” Then he marched off set.
When Dan was out of earshot, Kat looked to me. “What the hell was that about?” she asked.
I think I knew. But probably due to a lack of giving a shit, I waved the incident off. “Casper needs to get that buttplug shoved back up his ass,” I told her. “We have a job to do.”
So the manager of the toilet factory came stumbling up to my door the other night. He was covered in piss and crying his eyes out.
“Please Beau! Please!” he kept crying, “Come back to us!”
I laughed and shook my head. “You pathetic little man,” I said, “why would I come back to work for you? Since I left, I got my license to practice medicine in Aruba. I’m a real doctor now…something you could never achieve in a thousand lifetimes!”
“But but but,” he stumbled, “I promise to be nice to you and give you a raise!”
I paused for a moment. I considered all the malpractice lawsuits that I started accumulating and considered his offer. “I’ll think about it,” I said, “I also want my own office with a bathroom so I can take as many shits as I want.”
“Done!” he said.
Then I shut the door on his stupid fucking face.
So you read that correctly: after all the endless psychological warfare I committed against management earlier in the year, they want me back. And I’m seriously considering their offer.
The alternative is that I lose all of my money in lawsuits that I can’t possibly win. Come to find out, being a doctor is really hard. So I think I will surrender my medical license to the Aruban embassy (who I blackmailed into giving me anyway).
So apologies once again to all of my followers. My career is back in flux so I can’t dedicate as much time as I would like into reading your wonderful blogs. Please bear with me.
I don’t know why you guys make me write this smut. I don’t know anything about sex. I’m Mormon for fuck’s sake! I don’t even touch my penis in the shower!
So just remember: if you get uncomfortable reading this portion of the story, it’s your fault. You MADE me write this.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lorenz (Part X)
Dr. Effington noticed Bill on the couch, buck ass naked, as she walked into her office. “I’m ready to do this, doctor,” he said.
“I see,” she stuttered as she stared at his erect appendage, “well, uh, what are you wanting to discuss today?”
“Well,” Bill replied, “I want to take the final steps towards rehabilitation, in whatever way you see fit of course.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Dr. Effington smiled slightly, nodded, then stripped down completely naked in full view of Bill. She sat down in her usual chair cross legged. “Talk to me,” she ordered.
“What turns you on?”
She looked at him from across the room over the rim of her glasses. “Honesty,” she replied, “intelligence…kindness.”
“Do you think I’m a kind man?”
She started to feel up her left breast. “I seem to think so,” she said, “do you think you are?”
Bill began stroking himself. “No. I don’t think I am at all.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You said you liked honesty, doctor,” Bill replied, “so I’m just being honest.”
Still cross legged, Dr. Effington began feeling herself between her legs. “Do you think that this will get you out of here?” she asked.
“I absolutely do.”
The two sat there, mouths agape, as they pleasured themselves. Finally, Dr. Effington spoke up. “You’ll have to wear a condom,” she said.
“Understood.”
After she tossed him a contraceptive, Bill quickly unwrapped it and stretched it over his part. “Do you need anymore assistance?” he asked.
“I absolutely do,” she replied as she uncrossed her legs. Bill then went down to his knees and placed his mouth onto her genitalia. But he found her exaggerated moans amusing. Bill knew he was no good at oral sex as he only performed it a handful of times.
“Fuck me, please,” Dr. Effington ordered. He had never heard her use such language. Nevertheless he bent her over the chair and took her from behind.
Although she squealed with pleasure the entire time, Bill suspected she was faking. Finally, as Dr. Effington rode him cowgirl in the chair, she appeared to climax. The two held each other for a minute before they ever uttered a word. “Are you good?” she asked as she ran her fingers over his lips.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, doctor,” he replied.
“Then I declare you rehabilitated,” she said.
Bill rested limp inside her for another few minutes before she got up and dressed. “I can’t begin to tell you how happy this makes me, Mr. Lorenz,” the doctor said as she put on her bra, “please get dressed and I’ll begin the paperwork for the discharge board.”
Bill took a deep breath, nodded, and began dressing. Dr. Effington got on the phone with the board while he quietly went to a corner of her office to remove the condom.
He then dumped the empty cumless rubber into the trash can.
People ask me all the time: what’s your worst story?
And the answer is the story you’re about to read…Dr. Si. It’s poorly written, the jokes don’t land, and the character motivations make zero fucking sense (much like an actual James Bond story).
Some background though: the last “Detective James from LA” story I posted was The Man with the Golden Eye, which was the second in the series. While Dr. Sí, for all intents and purposes, is a direct sequel to that story, it’s actually the fourth in the series. Magnum Enforcer, the third entry in the Detective James saga, is actually a banger that I might republish here at another time. But you really only need to know two things from Magnum Enforcer: it introduces the Korth .357 magnum WHICH James uses to senselessly kill the villain at a Chucky Cheese in the story’s conclusion, plus Mr. Ree is formally introduced (although he’s in the first two stories)
However, knowing that information prolly won’t change a thing because this story’s still a piece a shit.
Dr. Si
“I’m Amish now,” I said to Admiral Majors and Izzy. “I don’t believe in violence anymore.”
“You mean to tell me we drove all the way to Pennsylvania from Los Angeles just for you to say you’ve taken a vow to never kill again,” the Admiral asked.
“Yes. I killed a man in cold blood. Not out of justice,” I replied. “I felt pure hatred. And I hope to never feel that again. That’s not God’s way.”
“The man you killed was a bent cop AND a serial killer. Fuck that guy!”
“No,” I said. “You see this,” I pointed over to the wide green pastures. Off in the distance, Amish brethren were erecting a barn. “This is God’s way. Hard work and community. That’s what will get us to heaven.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this bullshit,” the Admiral replied. “So you wanna play hardball eh? Fine. $2 million. I am offering you $2 million of tax payer money to join my force. One of our top nuclear scientists have gone missing, and we have reason to suspect that the Ionian Liberation Front is behind it. You’ve dealt with those guys before. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”
The Admiral stormed off. Izzy bashfully stood around.
“What’s her name,” she asked.
“Miriam,” I replied. “She’s a good woman. She’ll make an excellent mother.”
“I’m happy for you,” she said. “I’m seeing someone too. I gave Admiral Majors a hand job on drive over here. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”
“I wish you two the best of luck.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Goodbye James.”
“Goodbye Izzy.”
After I finished tending to the cattle, I washed off the bull semen then went to the homestead for supper. Miriam served me up a plate of beans and cornbread.
Miriam was a plain and simple Amish woman. We married during the fall harvest. Her father was Ezekiel, one of the community leaders. He was generous enough to take me in.
“Didist thou havest a good day,” she asked.
“I did Miriam. This is a well-earned supper after an honest day’s work.”
“The Lord hath blessed us. I am pregnant with child.”
“This is swell news indeed. The community with rejoice at the announcement.”
We smiled and held hands while we sat around the fireplace. I was loading tobacco into my pipe when Ezekiel stopped by.
“The Lord has brought forth good news,” I told him. “Miriam is pregnant with child.”
“Praise the Lord indeed,” he replied. “I am going to be a grandfather.”
The two of us went to the porch to watch the sunset. I took a match to the pipe. “So what brings you by Ezekiel,” I asked.
“I’m afraid Brother Peter is not doing well,” he said. “He won’t likely survive through the night.”
“That’s a shame. Miriam and I shall pray on it.”
“Unfortunately, I bring more bad news. Bandits have returned and stole four more chickens. We don’t have the funds to replace them. I’m afraid that we are having trouble feeding the children and the harvest isn’t bringing what we need. Times are hard indeed.”
“The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away,” I said.
“I wish someone would do something about these bandits. They have drained all of our resources for the winter,” Ezekiel said.
I puffed on the pipe and rocked in the chair. “I’m sure the Lord will provide.”
That night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. I sat up and kissed Miriam on the forehead while she peacefully slept.
I grabbed a shovel and hid behind the chicken coup while I waited for the bandits. I heard twigs snapping and bushes rustling. They were close.
“Stop right there or I’ll bash your head in,” I told the two bandits.
They laughed. “You’re Amish,” they said. “You can’t hurt us.”
“Grab my cock and find out,” I replied, referring to the rooster.
We had a stare down. I waited for one of them to make a move. One went for his pistol and I smashed the shovel right on his dick.
“My dick,” he yelled.
The other one leapt at me and I knocked his clean off his shoulders. Blood sprayed all over the coup. I went over to the other man laying on the ground.
“Don’t kill me,” he yelled. But I smashed the shovel right into his guts.
I buried the bodies deep in the woods.
I took the shovel and began digging behind the barn. Out of the dirt I pulled out an old oak box.
Inside the box: the Korth 357 magnum.
***
“I’m sorry Miriam,” I said before I departed for Washington. “I’m doing this for the money. I must save our Amish community.”
We exchanged goodbyes and I rode my horse and buggy down to Washington DC to rendezvous with Admiral Majors at the Pentagon.
“I knew you couldn’t refuse my offer,” the Admiral said. “Now take off that Amish bullshit. You’re a colonel in the Army now.”
I donned my uniform and saluted the Admiral. “Welcome to the Kill Force,” he said.
We boarded a plane and flew to The Hague. “What’s this about,” I asked the Admiral.
“We’re going to meet with Angelika Antoluktokoloplos. She knows the whereabouts of our missing nuclear scientist. Right now, she’s standing trial for war crimes.”
Angelika: my former nemesis turned ally during the Franco De Werner case.
Izzy flew along with us. Her and the Admiral were now married. “The President married us. We had the wedding on the White House lawn. You should have been there,” she said. She was trying to make me jealous.
“I’m so happy for you Izzy,” I replied.
Also on the flight was none other than Mr. Ree. “Well as I live in breath,” I told him. “I thought you died back in Los Angeles.”
He laughed. “No, I had an increased blood flow from that massive erection while I was pretending to be a prostitute. That’s what saved me. Thank god for viagra,” he said as he was popping viagra. “Now I always walk around with a boner.”
Me and Mr. Ree shared a few drinks at the airplane bar. “Keep the martinis coming,” I told the bartender.
“I heard you turned Amish,” Mr. Ree said.
“I’m a new man now,” I replied. “I’m only doing this for the money.”
“You get paid to do this?”
We got rip roaring drunk at the bar. I couldn’t sleep on the flight. Mr. Ree gave me a Xanax.
That morning, the plane landed at The Hague. The Admiral, Izzy, Mr. Ree, and myself were escorted to the maximum security prison by a NATO officer, Maj. Jzerkov.
“Be warned,” Jzerkov said. “The prisoner is uncooperative, she hasn’t given up any information regarding the whereabouts of the Ionian Liberation Front.”
“Just take us to her,” the Admiral said.
Angelika was locked up in a 3×3 glass box, chained to a chair. “Why is she nude sir,” I asked Jzerkov. “To prevent suicide,” he replied. “These terrorists will stop at nothing to avoid answering for their crimes.”
“Well well well,” Angelika said. “If it isn’t the Admiral and his lap dog. It’s Private Detective James from Los Angeles, isn’t it?”
“It’s Colonel James now,” I replied.
“Where’s our missing nuclear scientist, Ms. Antelukolpolous,” the Admiral asked.
“Why should I tell you anything?”
The Admiral took me and Jzerkov aside. “Release her into my custody,” he told Jzerkov.
“This is highly irregular Admiral! She’s standing trial,” Jzerkov replied.
“Look, I need a bargaining chip.”
Jzerkov thought for a second. “Alright, Admiral,” he responded. “But you owe me one.”
The Admiral nodded and went back to interrogating Angelika. “Okay Ms. Anolupolokolopos,” he said. “We are prepared to cut you a deal: charges will be dropped and you will be released into my custody….IF…if….you provide us any information. Just a name will suffice.”
Angelika sat back in her seat and smiled. “If you plan on going after the Ionian Liberation Front, you better bring bigger guns.”
“Angelika, please cooperate,” I said.
“Alright,” she responded. “You want a name, here’s a name. The man who kidnapped your highly esteem scientist is none other than…,” she gave a long pause.
“Dr. Sí”
***
Angelika was loaded onto the plane, strapped to a dolly like she was Hannibal Lector. Maj. Jzerkov was generous enough to give her a jumpsuit.
This time, the plane was bound for Hawaii, the last known location of the nuclear scientist and Dr. Si.
“Are we getting drunk on the plane again,” Mr. Ree asked.
“Damn right we are!”
Admiral Majors joined us at the bar. He was to brief us on our mission.
“The rest of the Kill Squad will join us in Honolulu,” the Admiral said. “Sgt. Private, Captain Corporal, and Lieutenant Sargent have been fully briefed on the situation.”
“Maybe I’ve been too drunk to pay attention,” I said. “But what is our mission?”
“I thought it was obvious,” the Admiral replied. “Retrieve the scientist and kill all the bad guys. How complicated do you want this to get?”
“What about Dr. Sí? What will we do if we capture him?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
After drinks, I went to the cargo bay to talk with Angelika. I dismissed the guards and removed her mask.
“Can you remove the straps please,” she asked. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I unstrapped her from the dolly and watched her closely while she used the toilet.
“Does this turn you on,” she asked.
It kinda did but I played it cool. “Just making sure you don’t escape,” I replied.
“Where am I gonna go? We’re on a plane.”
I didn’t reply. She wiped and flushed the toilet. “Gonna wash your hands,” I asked.
“Why? I didn’t shit on my hands. So what do you want to talk to me about?”
“What’s the deal with Dr. Sí? Why is he so important?”
“This technology he possesses, you couldn’t possibly imagine its power.”
“A nuclear weapon?”
“No. Something more powerful.”
“What could be more powerful than a nuclear weapon?”
“You have a small imagination.”
I scratched my head. Maybe I was too drunk to have this conversation. “Well what does he want with a nuclear scientist,” I asked.
“Nuclear power can be used for other things than just weapons.”
“Care to divulge?”
“Set me free from this cargo bay and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’ll have to discuss that with the Admiral. He’s particularly concerned about the….”
I turned around for a second and Angelika leapt at me with a makeshift knife (that she presumably snuck in up her ass (or vagina)). I was quick enough to grab her arm and throw her to the ground.
I laid on top of her for a brief moment. We stared into each other’s eyes while I restrained her, my mouth inches from hers. We were both aroused by the sudden burst of action.
The guards rushed in when they heard the commotion. “I got the situation under control,” I told them.
I stood up and ordered the guards to strap her back to the dolly. “Our conversation is done here,” I said. “I’m gonna go jack of…er, I mean, get a Jack. A Jack and Coke. I’m gonna go get drunk.”
But I didn’t go to the bar. I rushed to my cabin to beat off.
***
The Kill Squad met us at Honolulu Airport. While we were unloading in the hangar, Sgt. Private, Lt. Corporal, and Cpt. Sargent gawked at Angelika.
“I’d like to stick my penis into her vagina, if you know what I mean ,” said Sgt. Private.
I bashed him in the face with the butt of my rifle. “Watch your mouth. Ms. Antolonolupolopolos is under our protection. She is our guest and you will treat her as such.”
“Enough,” the Admiral said. He walked over to Sgt. Private, pulled out a 9mm, and shot him in the head.
“Jesus Christ,” I yelled.
“I will not tolerate insubordination in this unit,” the Admiral said. “Lt. Corporal, Cpt. Sargent…get rid of the body.”
I walked over to Mr. Ree. “Does the Admiral usually shoot people for insubordination,” I asked.
“Oh yeah! All the time. Don’t worry about it.”
Afterwards, the entire squad, plus Angelika and Izzy, was airlifted by helicopter to a remote location in the jungle…on the other side of Diamond Head. We set up headquarters in a small hut where we planned our excursion.
The Admiral laid out a map on the table. “Dr. Sí and the scientist were last seen at this location,” he said while pointing to a spot on the map. “I believe they’re now here,” he continued while pointing at a different spot. “Do you agree, Colonel?”
“Sure,” I replied. “Why not?”
“Good. We will head out at 0600 tomorrow morning. Load up on extra ammo,” he said to the group. “We’re bound to run into some resistance.”
The squad retreated to their huts around the camp. I ran into Izzy on my way out.
“The Admiral is a great guy, isn’t he,” she asked.
“He’s a crazy asshole. I’ll say that much.”
I noticed that she had a black eye. “You know Izzy,” I said. “If you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me.”
“Oh, this black eye,” she asked. “This is nothing. We get a little carried away in the bedroom.”
“Well be careful,” I replied. “No choking stuff. I learned that one the hard way.”
Meanwhile, Cpt. Sargent was harassing Angelika in her hut. An explosive collar was placed around her neck in the event she tried to flee or attacked someone in the group.
“If you don’t leave Angelika alone,” I said to Cpt. Sargent, “I’m gonna place that collar around YOUR neck.”
He glared at me as he left her hut.
“I don’t need your protection James. I can take care of myself,” she said.
“I think you do. Any one of us can detonate that collar if you put up a fight. Some men here might take advantage of that.”
I took a seat while she sat up on her cot. I decided to take the first watch.
“The Admiral is gonna get you killed,” she said.
“Probably. But he’s paying me well. That money will help my wife and Amish community.”
“You have a wife? And you’re Amish?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“You’re not my type.”
“Is it because I’m Amish?”
“Just don’t get yourself killed on my behalf.”
We bantered for awhile. She fell asleep and unfortunately I did too.
Later that night, men snuck into the camp. They hooded, muzzled, and kidnapped Angelika and me. When the hood was lifted from my head, I was in a laboratory.
Angelika was nowhere to be found.
They placed me on my knees, hands bound behind me. Even worse, the explosive collar was now around my neck.
A man in a white lab coat walked in front me and lowered himself to my face.
“Hello James,” he said. “I’m Dr. Sí.”
***
“Well shits assholes,” I said to Dr. Sí. “We’ve been looking for you. I guess the search is over! Can I go now?”
“Not so fast,” he responded. “I need to know where your Kill Squad is going.”
“First I want to know what happened to Angelika,” I demanded.
“Fair enough,” he said. Then Dr. Sí turned to the corner of the laboratory. “Angelika, come join us.”
Angelika stepped out, all dolled up with her red hair flowing down to her shoulders. “Sorry James,” she said. “You’re not my type because Dr. Sí is my type.”
The two kissed passionately in front of me.
“I do want to thank you, Colonel James, for returning her to me,” Dr. Sí said.
“Hey, not a problem,” I replied. “Can you return the favor by removing this explosive collar from around my neck? Once when they realize Angelika’s missing, this thing will blow my head off.”
“First, where is the Kill Squad going?”
“They’re probably coming here!”
“We are certainly not at where they are going.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
The doctor turned around and looked at a computerized map of the Hawaiian islands. “I am a man of science, colonel. In order for my experiments to work, I need EXACT measurements. I cannot afford unpredictability. So again…where is the Kill Squad going?”
I was running out of time. The collar was going to detonate at any moment. Then I remembered…
“$2 million,” I said.
“$2 million?”
“Yes, $2 million and I give up the coordinates of the Kill Squad plus any other state secrets you want in order to sweeten the deal,“ I replied.
I was bluffing about the state secrets part. I didn’t know shit.
“$1 million,” Dr. Sí responded.
“Deal. The coordinates are 113.998N 737.746W. Now get this collar off of me!”
Dr. Sí laughed and ordered the guards to remove the collar. “Thank you for your cooperation colonel,” he said. “But as an insurance policy, I’ll place this collar on one of your acquaintances.”
The guards rolled in Mr. Ree, strapped to an upright gurney.
“They kidnapped me too,” Mr. Ree said. “Can you believe that bullshit?”
“Ohh come on,” I said. “Don’t kill Mr. Ree! He’s cool! Besides, that thing will detonate before the squad reaches its destination!”
“That’s just a chance I’m willing to take,” Dr. Sí replied.
“Look, I don’t give a damn about Admiral Majors or the Kill Squad. But there’s a woman that’s traveling with them: Izzy. Please don’t kill her,” I pleaded.
“Colonel, relax,” he said. “I’m not looking to kill anyone, except for Mr. Ree over there. I just want to see that thing go off.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dr. Sí put his arm around my shoulders and started walking me around the laboratory. “I understand your confusion. You see, has anyone told you the truth about that missing nuclear scientist?”
“To be honest doctor, for this entire mission, I’ve kinda been asleep at the wheel. I don’t even know that scientists’ name.”
“Ah, let me show you.”
Dr. Sí opened a door and out walked an old man in a lab coat. I think I was supposed to be impressed by this.
“I don’t know who this is,” I said.
“That’s J. Robert Oppenheimer.”
“Who?”
“J. Robert Op…the father of the atomic bomb?! What are you? Some kind of fucking moron?”
“You cloned him?”
“No asshole! I brought him from the past into the future! Don’t you get it yet? I invented time travel!!”
I walked up to Oppenheimer and looked him up and down. “Welcome to the future,” I told him. “We killed Hitler.”
“I know that, dumbass,” he replied. “We should have dropped the bomb on him!”
I looked back over to Dr. Sí. “So what? You invented time travel. Big whoop. How can you use that against the Kill Squad?”
“That’s why I brought my friend Oppenheimer to the present. You see, we created a new kind of weapon: a time weapon.”
“That sounds pretty fucking stupid, Dr. Sí,” I said. “How can you weaponize time?”
“Well you see, if you can triangulate the space time continuum, the quantum field fluctuations will…”
“Okay, sorry I asked,” I interrupted. “That science shit is boring. Cut to the chase. What’s gonna happen to the Kill Squad?”
“I will fire a plasma energy weapon at their coordinates. When the weapon reaches them, it will generate a quantum field around them and they will be transported to a different time and place.”
“My god,” I said. “A non-destructive weapon. You’re a genius Dr. Sí.”
“So you’re not a complete fucking idiot after all,” he replied. “It is far more humane than the nuclear weapons of the last 80 years. Imagine: no more nuclear fallout, no more mass death…we simply transport our enemies to a different time, different place.”
I looked around the laboratory…at all the scientists running around, to Oppenheimer, to Angelika, and then over to Mr. Ree.
“I cannot deny your genius, Dr. Si,” I said. “But it appears that the only one in danger here is Mr. Ree. If you’re really are humane, you’d remove that collar.”
Dr. Sí nodded. “I suppose you’re right, Colonel.” He looked to the guards. “Remove the collar.”
The guards walked over to the gurney and removed the collar. As they were about to dispose of it, it detonated, killing and maiming several of them.
Out of the confusion, Oppenheimer attacked one of the guards, grabbing his machine gun.
“Put down the gun Oppenheimer,” Dr. Sí said.
“No,” he replied. “You’ve been holding me hostage here. I’m not your puppet!”
“But Bob,” Dr. Sí pleaded. “We’ve been building something special here. Don’t you want to finish our work?”
“No! No more weapons!”
More guards rushed into the room, forcing Oppenheimer to drop his gun.
“Sorry Bob,” Dr. Sí said. “It appears your time is up.”
Mr. Ree was released from the gurney. The two of us were ordered to raise our hands and were rounded up with Oppenheimer.
“Lock these scum up,” Dr. Sí ordered.
***
“This is science gone haywire,” J. Robert Oppenheimer said. “I should have never agreed to help Dr. Sí.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said to him. “We’ll get you out of here and back to your own time.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he replied.
“Sure it does. It’s science! Anything is possible.”
“We can’t just go ‘back in time’. Doing so would violate all sorts of Newton’s laws. When the quantum field is generated, the individual is transported to an alternate timeline. The laws of physics remain the same and the outcomes in these timelines might be similar to our own, but it’s not the same timeline. Am I making sense?”
“Nope,” I replied. “But we’ll get you as close to your timeline as humanly possible.”
“Forget it,” Oppenheimer replied. “Our best option is to disarm the weapon to prevent this from happening again.”
“How do we do that?”
“There’s a special property in the element of gold that penetrates through space and time. If the gold is removed from the nano chambers, the weapon would be powerless.”
“Sounds like a plan Bob.” I looked over to Mr. Ree. “Do you think the Kill Squad will alter course and find us?”
“I doubt it,” Mr. Ree said. “I don’t even know where we’re at.”
“We’re at the bottom of a dormant volcano,” Oppenheimer said. “They’ll never find us.”
“Shit,” I said. “Then we have to take matters into our own hands. We just need an opportunity.”
Angelika then peered through the opening of our cell door. “James,” she said, “just hold tight, I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“Angelika,” I replied, “I thought you were with Dr. Sí.”
She then reached her hand through the opening to touch my own. “Dr. Sí is no friend of the Ionian Liberation Front. He’s no friend of peace and justice. I don’t want this technology to fall into the wrong hands.”
“Get us out of here and we’ll destroy it,” I said.
“No! Think about it James. With this weapon, we can right all the wrongs. We can undo our violent past and create a better future.”
“I don’t know Angelika.”
“Please, I’ll get you out of here. But let me have the weapon.”
I thought for a second and agreed to her terms. Then she grasped my hand tightly.
“What’s your wife’s name?” she asked.
“Miriam”
“She’s a lucky woman. Perhaps in another time….”
She let go of my hand and closed the opening. I heard some rustling outside, then a few gunshots. After a few moments, the cell door blasted open.
Angelika walked across the rubble wearing a skintight leather suit and holding a Heckler & Koch M27.
“Alright boys,” she said. “Let’s blow the top off this volcano.”
***
We stole guns off some guards that Angelika brutally murdered and ran down the corridor.
“The time weapon is is being held three floors above us,” Angelika said.
We began to feel tremors all around us. I asked Angelika the last time this volcano erupted.
“About 25,000 years ago,” she said.
“Then this thing could go off at any moment. We better hurry.”
We went down the corridors and up the stairs in an attack formation. Angelika and I covered the front. Mr. Ree and Oppenheimer covered the rear.
When we reached the room holding the time weapon, the Kill Squad…along with Izzy….was there. They altered course and stormed into the volcano earlier in a bloody, devastating firefight. Not many survived.
“Thank goodness you’re alive,” the Admiral said. “And you found J. Robert Oppenheimer. Excellent work. Lt. Captain, please dispose of the scientist.”
Lt. Captain cocked his pistol and raised it up to Oppenheimer’s head.
I raised my rifle to Lt. Captain.
“Pull that trigger and you’re dead,” I told him.
“But Colonel James,” the Admiral said, “this time travel stuff is against the laws of God. We must destroy all of the evidence.”
“No,” I said. “Oppenheimer has as much right to exist as the rest of us.”
Dr. Sí then rushed in with his guards. “Well well,” he said. “Glad you’re all here.”
We were surrounded. We dropped our weapons.
Dr. Sí walked up to the Admiral. “I’m happy to see you’re doing well Admiral,” he said.
“This ends today doctor,” the Admiral replied.
“I think not,” he replied.
Dr. Sí walked over to a control panel. In a corner across the room, the floor moved, revealing a lava pit.
“I’m sorry Admiral,” the doctor said. “But you can’t go where we’re going.”
The guards grabbed the Admiral and pushed him towards the pit. “You’ll never get away with this,” he yelled.
“Of course I will. I control time! Think about the possibilities Admiral! We could have taken over the world. You never understood that.”
“Izzy, don’t let them do this,” the Admiral screamed. She walked over to him and the guards.
“You’re one abusive son of a bitch,” she said. Izzy then roundhouse kicked him into the fiery pit. When the screams stopped and the flames died down, Izzy turned around.
“Can I go home now,” she asked. “I didn’t want to be here anyway.”
“I’m sorry madam,” Dr. Sí replied. “I cannot let anyone leave here alive.”
“So what happens now? This volcano will erupt at any moment,” I asked.
“Exactly Colonel. In a few moments, I will time travel out of here and this volcano will erupt, destroying the evidence.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Angelika said. Dr. Sí walked up to her, grabbed her hair and put his lips on her.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us,” he said. “I gotta go.”
He went back to the panel and a countdown started. A laser dropped down from the ceiling which would release a plasma field around its target, triggering a spacetime ripple that would permit time travel.
“Before I forget,” Dr. Sí said to me, “here’s the $1 million I owe you. Where I’m going, this money is no good.”
He threw a metal briefcase as my feet.
“Alright,” the doctor said, “let’s get this bullshit over with.”
The laser then fired out a beam, creating the field around Sí. While the guards were mesmerized by the sight, Oppenheimer ran into the field, pushing the doctor out.
There was a bright flash of light, then Oppenheimer was gone…lost somewhere in time.
“You fool!” Dr. Sí yelled.
Out of the confusion, Angelika attacked the guards and took a gun. She began spraying bullets across the room. I picked up the briefcase and ran for cover.
I grabbed a rifle from a dead guard and began shielding Izzy. Mr. Ree then engaged in the firefight.
When all the guards were dead, Angelika threw down her semi-automatic and grabbed Dr. Sí. He tried to put up a fight.
“Angelika!” he screamed. “This volcano will go off any second. We don’t have time for this!”
“Time’s up bitch!” she said. Then she threw him into the lava pit. A large flame shot up in the air.
Meanwhile, Mr. Ree was monitoring communications between guards over the radio. “Reinforcements will be here in a minute,” he said.
I handed the briefcase to Izzy. “Make sure Miriam gets this,” I told her.
We shared one last look. “Mr. Ree and I will give you cover while you escape,” I said. “Angelika, go with her.”
“But I didn’t get the weapon,” Angelika responded.
“Let it go,” I said. “You can save humanity without it.”
I reached out my hand to hers and we looked deep into each other’s eyes. “Goodbye Angelika.”
She gave a pause. “Goodbye James,” she said.
Izzy and Angelika, along with a few surviving members of the Kill Squad, ran back down the corridor. The tremors were beginning to pick up.
Mr. Ree and I stood behind the control panel, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. “Ready to go where no man’s gone before,” I asked him.
He put a cigar in his mouth. “You’re reading my mind.”
As guards were pouring into the room, Mr. Ree provided cover while I fiddled with the controls. The laser pointed in our direction and released a beam. The field surrounded us.
Where…or when…we were going, only God knew.
Then there was a brilliant flash of light….
*********
Izzy, Angelika, and the Kill Squad made it out of the volcano just as it erupted. As they watched the explosion from a safe distance, Izzy turned to Angelika.
“Do you think they’re dead?”
Angelika looked to the ash cloud hovering over the jungle. She thought for a moment.
“No,” she replied. “They’re out there…somewhere in time….”
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Effington,” Bill said as he sat prim and proper in the psychotherapist’s office. The good doctor smiled and nodded in astonishment.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Lorenz,” she replied, “I assume your meeting with Susan went well.”
“It did not, but that’s okay. I’m ready to move forward.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, doctor. In fact, I’d like to learn more about you.”
Satisfied with the progress she was seeing, Dr. Effington gave a slight smile. It was the most warmth and personality Bill had seen from her. “What would you like to know?” she asked.
Bill shrugged. “Anything really. Why did you become a doctor?”
“Well, I realized the inefficiency of modern psychology to combat pathological behavior,” she explained, “in men, there’s sometimes a sexual component. If the new government is truly interested in eliminating crime, this problem should be addressed.”
“Your methods here have been kinda extreme, wouldn’t you say?”
“Only in light of the previous paradigm of sexual repression. But we’re now living in a new paradigm.”
Bill nodded. “I see,” he said, “so I’m sexually repressed?”
“Not repressed, Mr. Lorenz. You’re sexually misdirected.”
Bill thought for a moment. “So I’m assuming you’re still not wearing underwear?” he asked.
“You have assumed correctly.”
“May I see?”
Dr. Effington slowly uncrossed her legs and spread eagle in her chair. Bill gazed at her genitalia. “Am I still permitted to uhh…pleasure myself if need be?” he asked.
“Of course,” the doctor replied.
Bill unzipped his prison jumpsuit and started touching himself. “Can you touch yourself too?” he asked.
“Can we continue to discuss your history?”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk more about you.”
Dr. Effington started rubbing her right hand down her thigh. “How so?” she replied.
“Do you do this for all of your patients?”
“Just you.”
Bill began stroking himself harder. “So ehh, what gets you off?” he asked.
“A lot of things,” she replied as she rubbed herself.
“Can you take out your uhh…,” Bill began to stutter.
“Breast?” Dr. Effington asked as she unbuttoned her blouse. After she exposed her bare chest, she placed one hand on a nipple and the other between her legs. Bill was completely zoned in. “When was the last time you were intimate with someone, Mr. Lorenz?” she asked.
“Please don’t call me that,” he said.
“Would you rather be called ‘Bill’?”
“I’d rather be called nothing.”
Dr. Effington’s moans of pleasure increased as Bill neared climax. “You can come closer to me,” she offered.
“I can’t,” he said, “the heart monitor will go off.”
“I had it switched off.”
Bill slowed down as he moved his chair closer to hers. He reached out to touch her leg. As he stroked her leg and himself simultaneously, he began to feel a sense of performance anxiety.
“Is everything alright?” Dr. Effington asked.
“I’m…I’m sorry doctor, I don’t know what my problem is!”
She buttoned up her blouse and placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s quite alright,” she explained, “I’m proud of you. You’ve made a lot of progress.”
The Internet Ruined Everything 