Debrief

Deeyah was with me all throughout the mission's aftermath, just like my team. She was hanging around with us, not yet ready to go home and face her own family. By then, she and I both knew something was going to happen between the two of us. A fortnight after we met, it did.

Murdoch had come after me again that day. "I just sent off your discharge papers, Clarke," he told me with a sneer. "The U.N. doesn't like you anymore. They approved the medals for your people, but you're all being rotated back to your former units. Your time is through."

"You know, Murdoch," I said after I heard that, "I really don't like you. I think someone ought to belt you one in the mouth. I won't, though. I won't."

I paused, realizing all of a sudden my future didn't really matter. "The hell I won't!" The next thing I knew, the motherfucker was on the floor with a split lip.

"You'll hang for this!" he snarled at me.

"I don't care," I replied. "I've had enough of people like you. I'm quitting the military. But you remember me, Murdoch. You finish this war. Save all the victims. It doesn't matter who they are. If you don't save them, I'm coming back to finish kicking your ass."

I then turned and went to pack up my gear. My comrades each came to me and told me they understood what I was doing. Many said they wanted to do the same thing. "How will you live?" they asked me. "Where will you go?"

I gave them all the same answer. "Day by day."

I recall three goodbyes more than I do any of the others. The first came from Shap.

"You need to tell me next time before you do something like you did with Murdoch," the chaplain said with a Friendship hand gesture.

"Would you have stopped me?"

"Hell no. I might have joined you, though." Shap chuckled. "Go with God, Clarke. Remember to look me up in Texas if you ever need a kind word."

The second bit of good will came from General Hawkins. He didn't say anything to me about what happened with Murdoch. He just shook my hand and told me to keep doing what I had to do. Among warriors, such attitudes go a long distance. I later found out Hawkins had arranged clemency for me and recommended Murdoch for a court-martial, conduct unbecoming an officer. I never found out if he actually went to trial — by then, I didn't care either way.

The third gift came from Deeyah. She visited my quarters on my last night in the Middle East dressed in a long white gown. Her shining black hair was loose about her shoulders, darker than my flesh. Her skin was the color of polished cedar. Deeyah's eyes were sparkling hazel and her lips were bright red.

"Clarke, you are hurting," she told me.

"I'll get over it." I could not look her in the eye.

Deeyah clenched my arm. "Do not lie to yourself. Do not lie to me either. You need help. Walking away from your life like this is the wrong thing to do."

I disagreed. "It's the only thing I can do anymore. I beat Murdoch, but he was right. People like him fight the wars now. They let the wrong politics guide them and forsake the victims. They let hatred and ignorance keep growing and make fools of us all. There's no longer a place in this world for folk such as me."

"Don't talk like that!" Deeyah took my hand and sat me down on my cot. She sat beside me, put her fingers on my face and turned it towards her. "Think about what you did.You saved my life.You defeated the terrorists. Not men like Murdoch. Heroes like you and your team."

"You don't understand. They didn't want me to save you. Murdoch would have preferred you became a martyr, turned your people away from Aziz and his ways. Even Hawkins was okay with that."

"Do you really think that would have worked? Martyrs aren't the only people to whom we should listen. It's better to stay alive and keep giving your message over and over again, make sure your message is clear and can't be distorted in any way. Your message also has to be for the good of the people. That's the true meaning of jihad, something my poor cousin could never understand. I'm sure Allah and the Prophet are explaining it to him now."

Deeyah put her hand on my chin. "Many are dead, but we are still here, Clarke. Allah doesn't want us to leave this world yet. I want to continue my efforts towards peace, to grow closer to paradise on Earth and in heaven. You should join me."

"I..." I could not find the proper words. "I don't know if I can."

"Let me aid you," Deeyah said. She kissed my lips and I gave in.

Deeyah wanted to thank me for all I had done for her and her people. She wanted to encourage me to do more instead of stay on my current course. Could she have saved me? I'll never know, but I do know she tried.

She huddled close to me on my cot as we embraced. I tried to push her away, but only for a few seconds. I had wanted Deeyah for some time now and I was glad to learn she wanted me too. Deeyah was an impressive example of human beauty and her people's good ways. After all I that had been through rescuing her, I needed to see both at close hand.

I ran over my mental checklist for sex while we made out. I was clean and so was my partner, according to Dr. Tess. The room's door was locked and we probably wouldn't be disturbed till morning. I didn't need a condom since I had a vasectomy shortly after I first got into the military. I saw my buddies doing a lot of sleeping around and wanted to join them in their endeavors but I didn't want any children. There are too many unwanted babies in Africa already. I'd like some kids in the future maybe, if I meet the right woman. I can always get my operation reversed.

Deeyah didn't seem to care much about birth control that night. She caressed me, stripped off my shirt and spread her pleasure to the shores of my chest. She reached into my pants and touched the black pillar of my manhood with her fingers. Grasping it, Deeyah unfastened my belt and shoved my pants off and away. I pushed her dress down from her shoulders and looked over her as it hit the floor.

She had small hard breasts with dark nipples covering most of their area. They looked a bit like those domes the Arabs put on towers. Her tanned skin held all the soft wonder of the desert. It was cold at first, then rapidly burning hot as I explored it further. Sandstorms were in some places and moisture in others. I moved my hands over it all, touching Deeyah's warmth and seeking her most secret joys. Her pussy was shaved but had a light dusting of curls like a veil. She was very experienced. I found she knew things I could never learn anywhere else in the world. Deeyah was also no virgin. I doubt even seventy-two virgins could provide as wonderful a paradise as she gave me that night.

I squeezed her hard many times in our coupling. She kept gasping and falling into my arms. I caught her every time and then we took flight. I was a foreigner in Deeyah's ancestral land, one of many who had journeyed there over the centuries. We wanted to solve the native peoples' problems. We didn't want to necessarily make them like us. Okay, maybe we did at first, but working with them gave us better ideas. We found a middle ground and decided we just wanted to stop them threatening their neighbors and each other. We also wanted peaceful and pleasurable exchange of goods and ideas. Deeyah gave me all that, though she haggled quite a bargain out of me in return.

She whispered beautiful phrases in my ears as I nibbled and fondled her throat and teats. I heard hopes, dreams, pleas for change and understanding. Every word seemed wise but I only listened with half an ear. I was too intent on what I wanted from her, a few brief hours of passion and joy before I ran out. I guess you could say we were each like a genie to the other, only our wishes were in conflict. Still, we put our hands on each other's groins and kept rubbing those magic lamps.

What, you're liking this? Damn, I didn't mean to get so detailed. It's just, I remember it all so well. It was a very special experience for me. I realize what I have described is crude, though, and maybe even a little prejudiced. I'll stop talking about it if you want. Oh, you guys don't mind? You want to hear more especially, Cat? Okay, I'll keep talking.

Deeyah was gentle and sensual, a real goddess. I kept hearing her music in my mind as we touched. I don't know if you've ever heard Deeyah sing. I have, live and on recordings. I like her voice. It's instantly recognizable and distinctly full of free spirit and the sense of where she's from. The background instrumentation has lots of sharp chords and whispering cries. Deeyah was about four years my senior and willing to show me everything she knew. I didn't ask her for exact details of her past lovers. I never do that with those I fuck.

Deeyah really liked my muscles. They're very developed. There's strong, there's army strong, and then there's South African Special Forces strong. They call us the best in the world at war and we certainly practice justifying that reputation with all the bush rebellions and other skirmishes we get into. The rest of Africa often hires us as peacemakers and so does the U.N. I had the reflection of all that battle experience in my body back then, even more so than I do now. She traced every inch of me, challenging my strength with the swords of her nails.

Her head dropped like a legendary assassin, soft hair enveloping my cock followed by harshly pouting lips. Those lips sucked hard on me, her tongue a stabbing dagger in accompaniment. I knew it would be a very long engagement if I even tried to push her away.

I caressed Deeyah back instead, returning to her all the pleasure she gave me, and then some. I rubbed her hair and shoulders as she took my organ inside. I let her take control, as was the only reasonable choice. She got on top of me and screamed with mad fervor. I licked at her cunt when she turned around on my body and offered it. I stuck two fingers inside and whacked every surface over and over. I concentrated my lips on snapping at the pearl.

Deeyah kept mumbling stuff in her native tongue. I didn't really know the language that well, so I only got the emotions. She was humming about beauty and love, about seeking peace and growing closer to paradise. I told her some of my own thoughts on that as we coupled. They were a bit different in tone than what she said, but no less forthright. I think we both got the gist of what the other was trying to say.

I kept biting her clit and pushing my hands into her thighs, seeking moisture from the oasis. Dark tangy oil flowed out, thick with exotic scents. That oil added fuel to my body's motor and I pushed into Deeyah like a piston as she gave me juice. She kept jacking her price up and down, only giving scant thought to my needs. I remember several moments when she stopped what she was doing and cut me off until I made her happy or she lost patience. There were other times when she gave me so much ecstasy I felt like a guzzler, taking too much in and risking a spill or something worse.

Deeyah never stopped giving me charity. Her pauses were short. Every attention she gave me remained steady and with time, things got easier to predict. She would squeeze my cock with her hand or mouth, then move on to other muscles. I stroked her torso and legs in reply, securing assets and snatching what I could. When she slacked off, I increased my efforts and made her aware of how much I needed her. As soon as she was ready, she resumed giving me the goods. All throughout, she sang to me in that distinct throbbing alto voice.

I don't know how long it took before she came for the first time. I can still envision it, though. Have you ever seen the dances Sufi Muslims do when they earnestly profess their beliefs? They shake all over and wildly gyrate every muscle of their bodies. Deeyah was like that when she climaxed. I think it was paradise for her, or as close as she could get. She looked very happy when she came, though not as much as when I'd seen her on stage. I did my best to seem happy too.

Her climax was brought on by our exchange of fondles and good feelings. Deeyah wanted me to stay on her side of the world and for a while, I agreed. She was taking responsibility for her own needs but wanted to serve me also. I gladly accepted her into the ranks of my lovers. The few, the proud, the...

Okay, Doug, you're right. Maybe my lovers shouldn't be called "the few". To be honest, I've had hundreds of lovers. I add more every chance I get. I actually slept my way into the military and Special Forces to overcome recruiters' lingering racism. Hey, is it wrong if I wanted to serve my country? Is it wrong I turned out one of their greatest soldiers of all time? Is it wrong the recruiters enjoyed what we did together as much as me?

You didn't need to hear that? Sorry, man, it just came out. You had better stop injecting smart remarks into my story if you don't want me to argue back at you.

Thanks, Cat. I'll forgive Doug and continue my tale.

Deeyah hit a home run on my bat shortly after she climaxed. Watching her orgasm really excited me. Bright diamonds came pouring out of my body and into her mouth. She swallowed them down, savoring them and giving me back further riches with her own caresses.

What, you don't get the metaphor? Diamonds are what I call my climactic spurts. My operation still allows me to have such spurts. Real diamonds are the most precious resource of my home nation South Africa. Okay, you're smiling now. Good.

I fondled Deeyah's thighs while I came. I've trained my body not to collapse at the moment of completion. I don't fumble or flinch, like most men. I've got true grit. I can hold out for the longest night and keep on searching for pleasure with anyone. If some stunning woman or man tells me to fill their hand, you bet I will.

That's a John Wayne reference, Doug. Murdoch called me "John Wayne" earlier, remember? I guess I am like a black version of that actor's characters in some ways.

I stroked the palm fronds around Deeyah's tunnel as we settled down from our first orgasmic exchange. She shook and smiled, as she was very sensitive. Our inhibitions towards each other were gone now and we had nothing left to lose. I let her turn around on me again and she pushed her body down onto mine.

Deeyah made a voyage to the black pillar of my cock, surrounded it with her cunt's tight heat and whirled with intensity. I felt some very strong vibrations inside me responding to her force. I massaged her back and tits, making her muscles twitching and attentive. For everything she gave me, I gave more in return. I think I would have stayed with her forever if she had asked me and I had been willing and able to understand. Deeyah was lost in emotion by then, though. She was too caught up in screwing me to give any real respect to my needs.

Her cunt squeezed my member, and I realized I risked becoming dependent on her sensuality. I didn't want to be an addict for what she could give. Yeah, I liked it, but I'm a free man. I am not the type to change my worldview for anyone, not even a remarkable woman like Deeyah. I just took pleasure from her and paid her back in kind. That was all that we had needed to be, or so I believed.

She scratched me and pressed herself against me. I stroked my fingers against the minarets of her nipples and the hard pearl of her clit. More oil came out of her and I took it into my engine. I was the rest of the world to Deeyah's Middle East. Her tempests kept drawing me in because I wanted what she could give. She shook and sang, then lapped my lips. I kissed her back and groaned because I knew I could not stay.

Once more, my diamonds flowed into her body, and as before, she rewarded me with a wondrous display of climax. The oil gushed forth from Deeyah's loins and pained delight filled her speech. I think she knew in that moment I could not turn from my chosen path.

"Clarke, stay with me," she pleaded after her final climax had left her. "Remain a hero, a warrior. My people need what yours can provide. I work for peace and so do you. We can learn to cooperate. I know you think most of us are against you, but we're not. This war will end someday. Your spirit and mine will outlive it. Stay with me, Clarke. Put your pain aside. Forget it. Kneel. Kneel before Deeyah."

I had no idea where she got those last words. I just knew I didn't like them. The super-powered son of South Africa could not kneel before this daughter of an alien world embroiled in constant war. It did not matter that she had given me such a taste of heaven. I could not submit to her. I did weaken for an instant, though, when I thought I saw a green flash in her eyes.

"Thank you, but I can't," I coughed and told her. "I just can't."

I was devastated in that moment, my doomsday. I broke down crying in Deeyah's arms. She hugged and kissed me through it, trying to give me more promises of hope. I was too stupid and full of myself to listen. Eventually I lost consciousness and slept with her still weeping alongside.

***

London, England. September 2003.

"To this day," Clarke finished, "I wish I had listened to her words. But I didn't. I walked away from her instead because I was so bitter. I left the base early the next morning. I didn't even wake Deeyah up or say goodbye. I remember it was a very dark and stormy day. It felt like all the forces of the world were lined up to halt me, but I didn't let them. I walked out the gates of the base, boarded a ship at the nearby harbor and wandered into the darkness, lost and alone. The captain of the ship offered me a drink when he heard my story and I took it. Then I took another. Soon, I let the bottle swallow my soul. The effects of alcohol worsened the memories that haunted me. I kept going up that river and it wasn't long before I met Jim Kurtz."

"Jim Kurtz?" asked Cat.

"East London crime boss," Doug answered. "Clarke was working for Kurtz as an illegal prizefighter before we met."

"Oh."

"Kurtz found me in a bar here in London called 'The Crimson Boar's Head'," Clarke filled Cat in. "After I departed the military, I roamed all around Africa for a while. I kept bumping into this or that person who had known me in some war. It got tiresome very fast. Nobody wanted to believe the legendary soldier Clarke had hung up his hat. After a couple months, I emigrated to London where fewer people knew me. I stayed with Keira and her family for a while. They were good friends of mine from times I had spent on leave training with the British Special Air Service. I taught Keira a lot about combat on and off stage."

"Are you and Keira ...?" Cat asked.

"No. We're not that kind of friends. First, she was too young for me and then I was in despair. I know she's interested, but I've just never been ready. I've also been driving away a lot of people who have tried to help me these past few months. Maybe that will change soon now that I'm happy again and working here."

"I hope so," Doug said. "Lots of famous women have been stopping by the club and asking me about you. The other day Gabrielle Union wanted me to give her your number. I told her to ask you for it. I'm not your manager or anything like that."

"Gabby?" Clarke's eyes widened. "She's someone I've wanted to see again for some time. What about Sarah Ferguson? She's another old conquest. Has she come around asking for me yet?"

"The Duchess of York?" Doug gaped. "Man, you do get around."

"When I have my mind set right, I do." Clarke looked at Cat. "When you get to the Olympics, Cat, there's a couple athletes I want you to say hello to for me. Both are very daring and gorgeous women. I met them when I attended their college games on leave in the US. They're both going to their first Olympics next year like you are. Heather's on the soccer team and Jennie's a softball pitcher like yourself."