Life as a New Hire Ch. 05

I screamed and jump off the sofa. Odette squealed as I suddenly thrust deeper into her and stood up. Timothy was smirking, I was getting ready to scream at him and my phone went off in the bedroom. I gave Timothy a quick, angry flash because Odette needed my attention more. I took her to the bedroom, flopped us on the bed - me on top - and answered the phone while I fucked her.

"Cáel, Katrina wants you at 1105 Pomwell Avenue, Doebridge, Long Island," Buffy snapped. "What's that sound?"

"Its 8:20 in the freaking morning; what sound do you think it is?" I growled back. "What am I doing in Long Island?"

"Going where you are told." Buffy hung up before I could respond. I was righteously pissed. It was the freaking weekend and I had plans...which included three children, one hot cop and sex with Odette until noon. Now, at least one of those gems was being stolen away from me. Odette and I did finish round nine - I think it was nine - then I showered.

Odette offered to stay. I strongly suggested that she go home because I had no idea how long this chore would take. I was coaxing her out the door when suddenly Odette volunteered to help clean up the place, change the sheets and set up the air mattress...for the date that wasn't her. Timothy looked at me then shot himself with the Nerf gun in a futile display of utter disbelief in the power of my sexual charisma.

It wasn't like I even asked Odette for help. She volunteered. I made my way out the door with my bike. I went to Havenstone. I was checking out a car. There was no way I was paying for a taxi ride out to Long Island. Miracle of miracles, I was given a car without a séance and a full-body cavity search.

I suspected Buffy might have pre-ordered one for me, but anyone at Havenstone giving me a helping hand was so...unlike them. My onboard navigation system took me for a fifty minute drive away from the city and up along Long Island Sound. It turned out Doebridge was the Stepford Wives, sans the husbands.

I could now say I've been racial-profiled (my minority status being male). The first cops (both women) stopped me as I rolled into town. They suggested I might want to take an alternate route. I showed them my ID then said that I was here to investigate a case of poisoning involving Girl Scout cookies. They seemed worried. I then told them I was the food taster for the Queen.

They got pissed so I reminded them they shouldn't have stopped me in the first place. I wasn't speeding, or in a stolen vehicle. They pulled me out and asked to search my car. I told them it wouldn't be a problem but I had two attack midgets in the trunk, so they should be careful. Next thing I knew, I was handcuffed and they were on the phone to a ballistic Buffy.

"What is your problem?" she seethed quietly. She was 'somewhere'.

"I don't know. Maybe I was pulled over for unlawful use of facial hair, or not having a back-up supply of tampons," I groused. "Until Charlie's Angels pulled me out of the car, I swear my cock was behaving itself. For once, it wasn't at fault."

"If you were in front of me now, I'd kill you," Buffy promised.

"You do realize there is a cop standing in my personal space, right?" I brought up.

"It's okay, she's a woman who has talked to you. She'll understand," Buffy snapped. The policewoman's grin confirmed that supposition.

"You are too lucky," Buffy grumbled. "Hayden wants you here, so you escape once more, you cocksucker. Give the phone back to the policewoman." Sure enough, two minutes later I was on the road again. Six minutes after that, I was cuffed and pressed against a brick wall in scenic downtown Doebridge.

I didn't understand it. I swore to Buffy I had been polite. I had complimented both women on how pretty and professional they were. I even suggested we take turns strip-searching one another. I especially wanted to see them do it to each other while I watched. Buffy promised me I'd be a long time dying when I finally showed up. I reminded her she was too passionate.

Four minutes later I was in sight of my target...and pulled over again. This time I behaved well by anyone's standards. Why was I pulled over, I asked? They heard I was cute and wanted to take a look. I was frisked - by the both of them...again. I swear to God, if they had pulled out elbow-length gloves they were going to have to pistol-whip me first. They patted my butt and let me go.

The next hurdle was Havenstone Security itself. They scanned my ID. The second they called their supervisor, I started stripping down.

"What are you doing?" the supervisor asked.

"Lady, I've been searched three times since I entered this crazy town. Since you clearly won't take their word for it that I'm not smuggling anything, I see someone ramming their wrist up my rectum in the near future."

"Oh, that's not..." she got out then another guard pulled on her sleeve and winked. "Go ahead." I stripped, they had me spin around a few times. Then they patted me down and made triple sure my raging hard-on wasn't an artificial attachment packed with high explosives. On the second tour, Buffy called again wanting to know what was taking so long. I told her I was sightseeing but would be there soon. That's when they let me dress.

"What I meant to say was 'what are you doing dressed like that?" the supervisor stated.

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Why aren't you in business attire?" she clarified.

"Let me think about that," I pondered.

"Oh yeah, its freaking Saturday and no one told me what the hell was going on so I came dressed like it is freaking Saturday. I know most of you are home-schooled, but is reading a calendar really that hard?" I glared. "If this was a quiet cry for an early Christmas present, it worked. Can I go now?" I knew the look Security was giving me.

"If you slap me, prepared to get punched back. I'm not one of your Ken dolls," I warned them. "You'll gang up on me and win. Then you will get to tell Hayden why I'm not where she wants me to be."

"We'll get you on the way out," the supervisor menaced.

"That's right. How dare I act like I have a vagina?" I mocked her. I took a few steps past them before realizing I was missing something crucial. "Where am I supposed to go?" They took malevolent glee at my confusion. "All I am asking is for you to do your jobs," I groaned. They kept grinning.

"Fine, I'll wander about until some far less friendly, helpful and more heavily armed woman takes offense at my temerity to breathe the same air and kills me. Good job boys," were my parting words. The supervisor dispatched a guard to escort me into the complex. "So, do you date much?" I asked the guard a few seconds later.

"What? No," she sounded confused.

"Do you date girls?" I continued.

"No," she grumbled. "Not dating men does not make me a lesbian."

"You are right. Are you a transvestite?" I kept teasing her.

"No! What gave you that idea?" she gawked.

"I was thinking that if you are a tranny, that's really good work," I told her.

"I'm not a transvestite!" she insisted.

"Fine, will you go out with me then? You get even better looking when there is a fire in your eyes," I grinned.

"If I say 'yes' will you shut up?" she studied me intently.

"Of course. You can access my personnel records for my current work and home numbers. Give me a call sometime," I winked. I was SO going to fuck this woman. See, she had to get back at me for taunting her. She was going to punish me with sex and she was going to think it was all her idea.

Our path led to a massive indoor archery range. It had twenty lanes. Each lane was clearly marked out to 150 meters plus there was approximately 20 meters of back space where the observers and archers waiting their turn congregated. I recognized plenty of the women present. There were also three men - the other male new hires. The rest of us had made it through Week One.

The guys were all dressed in suits. Ah, some of the previous conversation made more sense. I had on a tight white t-shirt, comfortable jeans and docker shoes (essentially canvas tennis shoes). The women dressed in a similar style though not identically. Tight vests, bound breasts, short skirts and short boots. I quickly made out Katrina's clan. I had to slip past Fabiola's pack to get there.

Katrina was on the firing line. My attention was drawn to the archer next to her. It was Aya and she was having a rough time of it. Her Mom, Caitlyn, was calmly trying to instruct her yet each word out of her mouth seemed to make Aya more and more nervous. I was drawn to Aya emotionally. I felt compelled to do something even though reporting to Katrina and Hayden was the proper procedure to follow.

I spotted a large bowl of fruit in Katrina's backfield. A grapefruit was the proper tool for the moment. Target in hand, I approached Aya after her latest failure. She was about to cry.

"Hey, Aya," I called out. Multiple heads turned my way. The only person who didn't seem to notice I was under-dressed was Aya. Her face blossomed and she ran right at me.

"Cáel," she squealed as she hugged my waist. I patted her back and kissed the top of her head. That drew a mixed reaction from our audience.

"What seems to be the problem?" I smiled down at her.

"I...I can't - I'm not good..." she stammered.

"Aya's a winner," I declared. "Aya does. The only 'not' that is Aya is 'Aya is not a freak'. Did Aya get a Daddy this week?" Her face brightened noticeably. "Did Aya get a Daddy that wasn't a spy this week? Who's clever idea was all that?"

"Aya?" she murmured.

"Who? I didn't quite hear that," I teased.

"Aya," she exclaimed.

"So Aya's a winner. So what's the problem?" I asked.

"I can't hit the target," Aya explained.

"Yes you can," I nodded. "Let me show you." I led Aya back to the line. The liberties I was being granted weren't lost on me. "Okay, ready your bow and notch an arrow." Aya nodded and did as instructed. I'd shot a few arrows at school. Not a lot and certainly not enough to ever be considered an archery instructor. Confidence training I did know.

"Okay, can you hit this?" I held the grapefruit up to the tip of Aya's arrow, standing beside it.

"Of course," she giggled. I took a half-step back still holding the grapefruit out.

"Can you hit it now?" she nodded. We repeated the process again and again as I back up to her target. Occasionally I'd add, "Now track in your mind the movement of bow as you adjust for the range."

Aya nodded and before long, I was standing beside her - closer - target.

"Shoot," I commanded.

"Cáel," Aya whimpered, "I might hit you."

"Aya is a winner," I repeated. "Besides, do I look afraid? I believe in you, Aya."

The shot fell way short and skipped to within a meter of my foot. I wasn't worried. It was pointless. I tapped the grapefruit against the target. Aya looked to Caitlyn who nodded.

"Track the grapefruit in your mind, Aya. Don't think of anything else," I counseled. "Aya is a winner."

She drew, aimed, muttered something, visibly relaxed then let loose. She didn't hit me, or the grapefruit. She did hit the third ring of the target which, by the pristine look of the paper, was her first hit of the day. By the happy looks of her family, I was right. Aya squealed and started to run to me. Caitlyn held her back. I was still in the firing lane after all.

The Fates, Fortuna, or the Norns - those meddling, magnificent, malignant and mischievous divine entities hadn't finished fucking with me yet. As I reached down for Aya's first spent arrow, something tugged at the back of my hair and the now unforgettable sound of an arrow whizzing past mere centimeters from my head registered in my mind.

Someone, and by that I meant some-woman, had tried to murder me.

"Kneel!" Desiree's scream came a second too late. Bending over turned into a roll as I calculated the trajectory that arrow probably had taken. I righted myself, kneeling, on all fours, looking at my assassin. She was stepping out of the line-up and casually drawing her next barb.

No one was going to save me. The rest of the guys were only now starting to figure out things were disastrously wrong - for all of us. Having witnessed my murder, they were all doomed which was my assassin's true intent. Dodging arrows was marginally less impossible than dodging a bullet.

I'd fired guns before and shot a bow enough to recall that you really needed a vambrace to avoid ripping the skin off your arm. It also taught me that it was called a bow, not an eye-bolt shooter. Watching her eyes was useless. The strength of the bow was in the pull - the string. The control of the pull was in the fingers. I was watching the twitch of her fingers.

The second I saw those middle digits move, I launched myself to the left - the firing line. I saw her try to adjust, but a bow is not a gun. Once that arrow starts out, it has its own motivations. The arrow would have punched through my right shoulder and penetrated into my chest cavity. I wouldn't be dead, only fatally wounded.

Instead it passed under my chest and outstretched arm and leg as I was in mid-roll. Next time I knew I wouldn't be so lucky.

"No!" Aya screamed. That wasn't so bad, or distracting. Her running at me was. The smart play was to duck behind Aya.

If the blonde archer shot in her direction, Katrina's entire clan would have filled her with feathered shafts. I, having more love than hate, ran the other way. I wasn't going to make it. I knew I wasn't going to make it. She had her arrow out with expert speed and was tracking my path. I dove and she flinched.

The woman flinched because an arrow buzzed past her. It wasn't 'aimed' at her. It passed a meter in front of her field of vision. It gave me a step, maybe two. The arrow smacked into the very edge of the target. The majority passed through, but didn't have the energy left to hurt me. Now I was behind a target and the Amazon murmurs began.

"Hold on now," Felix spoke up. A dozen women glared menace his way. It occurred to him he was unarmed in a room full of armed women - and they weren't doing anything to help me. Suddenly we had brotherly solidarity cemented by our helplessness. The lack of noise was eerie. The ceiling fans chugged away and Aya was still crying my name. There was no other human noise.

My rational mind didn't desert me, despite the hopelessness of my situation. My eyes stayed over the curve of the target. I presented her with a shot. The trade-off was I knew what she was doing. She shot, burying a shaft a centimeter below the rim; nearly punching through and into my face. She was a really clever lady.

Her next move was to stalk me. Someone shut Aya up. I couldn't spare a glance to see if she'd been taken away. My unknown assassin was confident, not gloating. She didn't have much respect for me. She undoubtedly had read my Havenstone file, even Elsa's report. I had no tricks. I had Aya's arrow and that wasn't even a real arrow - it was for target practice.

The other Amazons used diamond-shaped hunting arrows which they were clearly qualified to use. The brutal reality was I was going to die. A female warrior from a martial culture versus an adventurous college graduate - no matter how you worked the math, I wasn't going to make it. The Blonde Death wove between the targets, forcing me back until I had one target left to hide behind.

Fate was one fickle bitch, or maybe they don't teach Amazons political science in Assassin School. She chose her final approach from down range. She circled around, waiting for my final doomed rush to an adjacent archery target. I'd never make it, but that no longer mattered. I took off my shirt.

I let the shirt and arrow fall to the ground. I laced my fingers behind my head then stepped out to present her a clear shot. She drew back, a slight smile on her face. I went to my knees, closed my eyes and waited. In five seconds, I wasn't dead so I opened my eyes. That is what she was waiting for, for me to see my death coming. She finished her pull. I grinned triumphantly.

Amazons don't train with compound bows. They go old school; composite bows only. While quiet, when a dozen are drawn at once, the sound is distinctive. By Blondie's look, she realized she wasn't going to be celebrating my demise for long. See, if by some galactic calamity she missed me at this range, she'd be shooting into Katrina's crowd.

That was why I had surrendered myself. I wasn't tired of living. I had sworn my life to Katrina and when she was put at risk, I had put my life on the line to protect her, thus making myself an easy target. Why was Katrina aiming at her?

"What are you doing?" one of the elders cried out - to Katrina.

"Leona is threatening my people," Katrina answered.

"That man is not your people," that woman insisted.

"I am not talking about him. I have children among us and she's hasn't proven to be all that accurate," Katrina explained.

"She is..." the woman started.

"She missed a man three times - twice in the open," Katrina snapped. "My youngest has a better success rate!" Katrina must have been referring to Aya. It was a lie, but still.

"I will not permit..." the unknown elder began. Suddenly every woman was aiming a bow at someone else.

"He is a man!" Tia Pharos, Felix Melena's boss decried.

"If a man pulled your child from a burning house, would you kill him for touching your offspring?" Beyoncé countered. "Better yet, would you shoot him as he ran into your house to save your child - kill him for trespass? This kind of insanity is why we are where we are today."

"Beyoncé," Tia shouted. "You are not one of them."

"I was opposed because I saw no hope in this scheme," Beyoncé responded. She pointed to me, "Now I have hope."

"Refrain!" Hayden thundered as she strode into the room, trailed by a dozen women I didn't know and one I did; Marilynn. I enjoyed that moment right up until the arrow entered my thigh.

I started screaming. GI Joe, James Bond, and Mathew Bourne, I'm not. I couldn't even fall backwards. I had to fall to the side because of the angle the arrow in my leg was in. I had been looking over my shoulder at Hayden when it happened so I had no warning.

"Gentlemen, you will be escorted from this room and events explained to you. Now!" Hayden snapped.

In the periphery of my pain, I saw members of the various departments detach from their Houses and lead my three remaining brethren away. I couldn't read their faces yet I imagined their expressions ranged from fear to bereft of any logical explanation of events. They were waking up to the reality they lived and worked in a madhouse where their worth was measured on the whim and patience of others - welcome to my childhood.

The moment the door closed,

"Cáel Nyilas, to my side," Hayden called out profoundly. As I clamped my teeth down to keep my howl of pain contained, Leona, the blonde assassin began to return to her group.

"Viper," Hayden snarled in Old Kingdom Hittite. Instantly three guardians had pistols pointed at Leona.

"Leona," Hayden beckoned over politely now that the girl knew that disobedience meant death. Without difficulty, Leona made it to Hayden first. They waited until I limped over. My pain amused Blondie. "Cáel, kneel," Hayden directed. I'd thought this one out and neither choice was pain, or worry, free.

I put the knee of my wounded leg to the ground and rapidly shifted as much of my weight as possible to my kneeling leg. The pain sucked but I didn't topple over screaming so I racked this one up as a victory. A minute ago I had faced a quick death. Now I felt I was staring down a lingering one.

I was not an EMT, paramedic, or physician's assistant. I had no clue if I had major damage and was slowly bleeding to death. I'd have clubbed a baby seal in front of Aya for some codeine at the moment. The conversation turned to Hittite. I was not privileged to hear my fate.