Mando Bk. 02: Good Badass Bitch Ch. 03-04

She drags her chair to an angle so we face each other. She holds my hands and looks into my eyes constantly while talking. It is precious and sincere, and endearing.

I watch the tears flow as she talks. I want to kiss them away, but expressing one's feelings is empowering. Her sadness eventually touches my tear ducts. Tears creep onto my eyelids and trickle quietly down my cheeks. I realize how lonely she'd been all these years, like I was. We were alone in a sea of people. Surrounded by soldiers and monks, yet constantly feeling alone. I weep for us both.

"So, Gino, I worked alone and came home alone. This commando felt hollow and lacking. Incomplete, you know"? She had to stop from time to time to wipe the tears away to make room for more, and to gain control over her emotions so she could talk.

"Let's face it babe, people in professions like mine have a better chance of dying young than most. Now that you're here, whether I die young or old doesn't worry me now because the man I love will not stop loving me, young or old, anywhere and everywhere."

I pull her to me in a warm hug. "I'm glad it's me, hon. I'm so happy for us both."

She nods and wipes her eyes with her hand. "I know this all sounds morbid and depressing, but think about the risk I expose myself to and you'll understand why it's important for me to be at peace so I can enjoy life as I live it."

I kiss her teary eyes. 'Yes, I saw first hand at the Omni hotel the risk you take. Any job or assignment holds the risk that the commando will not return alive." I kiss her on the lips. "I cherish every day with you. I promise you when you leave this plane of existence, you'll leave loved, not lonely. "

I lift her chin and smile. It's easy to get lost in the magic pool of her honey brown eyes still brimming with tears."Danny, I really want to be here for you. I have someone who loves me to come home to like you do. I feel like my life is just beginning."

"I know, but listen, Gino, all we knew was that we were desperate to see each other, and that our love was still alive, but that's all. We knew nothing else. The very first night together we discovered things about each other that were critical for us to accept. We were forced into a situation that opened us up, whether voluntarily or not."

I nod. "That's a red letter fact, Danny, and a total surprise. A world shattering surprise and then some."

"Yes sir, a mega-surprise. One day my life is empty, and the next I have a new beginning. It's like seeing magicians wave their wands and Presto change-o we're together and we are whole. I don't mean each of us are whole, I mean together we are whole; we complete each other."

I bob my head slightly forward. "Yes, girlfriend, that is a fact and a fantastic feeling, isn't it?"

She locks eye contact with me and continues. "Gino you're the only person I've ever known that could complete me. I am awestruck and flabbergasted by all that has happened so quickly."

I cradle her hands in mine and explain my feelings and actions

" Danny, all during that fight you were the only thing between me and death. I will never take you for granted."

She shifts her gaze from me to the floor and back again. "Gino for the first time in my life I am considering having a partner if a situation requires more people." She hastens to add; "If you want to, I mean. Once you can handle a gun as well as knives and nunchucks, do you think it is possible for us to work as a team?"

It is my turn to stare in wonder. "You mean the lone wolf is willing to share the harness?"

Her grin is all gums and teeth. "Not just any wolf." She thumps my chest. "Just you, Stud." She gives me a peck kiss on the lips and completes her thought. "Besides, we have the facilities to train together to become a team before we share a mission. It will be like we said, the two of us becoming one...and. . . I can keep that splendid cock safe if we're working together."

I laugh and pull her up into a warm embrace before resting my forehead gently against hers. We are eye to eye and nose to nose. "Yes, Danny, we see eye to eye now, I'm sure of it. We are a perfect fit."

She wraps her arms around my neck, kisses me, and then grabs my cock. "Yes, lover boy, I think we're a perfect fit. This cock fits in my pussy perfectly, and you fit my life more than I could have ever dreamed possible."

I share her vision. "Yep, we're a fit. Our lust is well balanced by love. Being together is good for both of us. Oh, one more thing, Danny."

"Hmm?

"I want to drape you over that giant exercise ball and feast between your thighs like a starving man. I'll rock you gently while ravishing your clit and slit. It will be like floating on a raft surrounded by baby waves and cooled by a gentle breeze in a clear lagoon."

Her laugh is beautiful, carefree. "I can't wait to see what other ideas you're going to surprise your personal super bow with."

"Actually, Danny, I'm thinking of turning one corner of the gym into a sex gym . Doesn't that sound fun?"

She claps her hands. "Yes! Our own sex gym. What will be in it?

I flash a mischievous grin. "I'll surprise you."

CHAPTER 4: THE HOSTAGES

DANNY'S STORY

Chuck's call is on speaker. Bad news, Mando, a mad gunman is holding over a hundred kindergartners hostage in a Christian Montessori school a couple miles northeast of Arlington, Virginia. SWAT, FBI, and local police have him surrounded but he's using kids as human shields. In one more hour, he declares he will shoot one kid an hour until we meet his demands.

"Not too original. The demands must be big. No one would take a gaggle of five year old children hostage for a few grand and a jet to a country without an expedition treaty. What does he want?"

"Impeach the president."

Impossible demands that can't be expected to meet are not meant to be met. Not good. Not even impersonating good.

"Oh, just that," I frown, my voice cold. I have to keep calm and stay professional, although I would love to immediately charge at the bastard and give him what he deserves. "How many hostages?"

"A hundred twenty five year old children plus sixteen teachers."

I wince. "Those poor kids." My heart fists at the thought of them scared for their lives at the hands of that mad monster. "What can I do?"

"We need a Commando. An army of one."

I gather my thoughts. "Send the coordinates, building blueprints and bio of the hostage taker to my Email."

"Done."

Three minutes later I'm studying the map. It's bad alright. More than bad. It's diabolical and evil. I get Chuck on the line. "Chuck. This is fucked up." I frown, realizing what is happening here. It isn't good.

"Other than the obvious, what do you mean?"

"Look at the relationship of the school to the Pentagon, White House, and Langley."

"Relationship? What relationship?"

"The school is in a ritzy area between two and two and a half miles from each place, the Pentagon, White House and CIA headquarters. Chuck, the chances of that precision being random, coincidental or accidental are slim."

"Maybe so, but what's a mad hostage taker, and a kindergarten got to do with our nation's nerve centers for the military, central intelligence, and government. I don't follow."

"Get the FBI and CIA analyst on the horn with us. Include the anti-terrorist divisions."

" Danny, I know you're our anti-terrorist specialist, but maybe you're reading too much into this one. It's a nutcase hostage situation, that's all."

His doubts are understandable, but I'll bet the farm there are termites in the timber. This situation is built upon multiple layers of diabolical and malevolent. Not as simple as it's intended to appear.

"Could be, Chuck, but get the analyst on the phone. They've access to anti-terrorist Intel, maybe we can figure this thing out. Oh, and don't forget to include the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the Secret Service director."

"Stand by."

I sit by.

Two minutes later Craig Lewis, senior CIA analyst for counter-terrorism, Kyle Gibbs, the assistant Director for Secret Service, and General Hogue, Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff are with us.

Chuck speaks. "OK, Mando, you've got the floor."

I explain the unlikelihood of such precision of location being random. "Craig, what's your take?"

"What are you saying, Mando. That man's not Arab. How do terrorists fit in this?"

"No sir, that's the worst part. Arab terrorists don't allow infidels to have the glory and blessings of Allah by dying for him when killing infidels. Their methods are evolving. We've got a new wrinkle. They're becoming invisible by using our own citizens instead of theirs."

Chuck is working the puzzle. "But if he isn't a sympathizer, what's his motivation? Loved ones taken as hostages to Force him to act or his family will be killed?"

"That's one way. However, judging by his maniacal look and history of mental illness, he's an easy pawn for a Terrorist's evil game. If I'm correct, check on who he's been hanging out with in the last few months and you'll discover new friends."

Chuck switches from working things out in his mind to talking them out. "Mando, what could motivate him, or make him vulnerable as a pawn? He's a veteran and patriot. He wouldn't flip that easily."

I explain. "Right. Not knowingly. But here's a common ruse which is a variation of the false flag scam used to turn spies during the cold war. Being told about a group of zealots threatening to assassinate the president could set him on edge. Then he's adopted by a group pretending to be patriots that give him a plan to save the president. In his mind, he will be helping America. Right Craig? Saving it, even."

Craig gives credibility to my suggestion. "As far fetch as that sounds, it's been done before by all the key players, including the CIA," he confirms. "Unless there's a new weapon we don't know about, a bomb is the only alternative. But other than a nuke, we have nothing with that kind of footprint, and a nuke wouldn't need to be that close.

The voice of General Hogue cuts through theirs. What about a dirty bomb?"

Craig responds quickly. "A dirty bomb might, but that kind of movement is easily detected. Mando, you're the terrorist and bomb expert, what do you think? Do we have explosives that can reach that far consistently?"

I spring the bad news. "Yes, there is one chemical that could do it, but the necessary quantity doesn't exist unless it's been made undercover during the last six months to a year. That's a big "IF" because even if enough is put together, it's unstable."

"And? Is stabilizing it possible?"

"Yes, but only three people in the world know how to do it. A new compound is available that both stabilizes it and multiplies the explosive power exponentially in a two-stage explosion of primary and secondary gasses. That compound requires controlled temperature for stabilization. The total mix is isolated in small amounts, like modules, to prevent a heat build-up that renders the compound more volatile than liquid nitro. This is one bad news puppy."

My news is greeted with grunts and groans.

"Mando, this is Kyle with the Secret Service. Is there the remotest likelihood that these problems were eliminated?" He says. "I mean, do we need to take precautions?"

"Yes, get all the leaders in a bunker or fifty miles away."

"I'm on it. Bye gentlemen." He hangs up.

"Mando, this is General Hogue; how can we help?"

"Have the closest Seal team on standby at my disposal, and three gunships to transport the bomb's explosive units seaward and deep six them over an ocean depth of two miles or more to prevent the secondary explosion. These babies are too unstable to keep,"

"Craig, can we disable cell towers and satellite signals without blocking Airport and air traffic communication?"

"Yes, we can isolate frequencies. You want signal jammers?"

"Yes. Great. Have your boys bring two; one for the phones and one for the TV signals. I'll tell you when to activate them."

"Done. I'm sending you video clips of the room the hostages are in," Craig says. "Study it an find something that would house the bomb. We sure don't see one."

I squint to focus as I follow the movement on the clips. "I don't see...Stop! There, in the corner. The yellow chest. See it?"

"Yes, I see a toy chest sporting the schools' name. When would he have had time to load it? No one saw him bring anything like that in. We have all the footage. He brought nothing but weapons in a canvas bag."

"Look to the left and right of the box," I suggest. "See those electrical outlets?"

"Yes, what about them?"

"They are equal distances from the box. Chances are the box is in front of an outlet since those are to far apart to satisfy building codes."

"Right. So the box requires electricity, and electricity means...DAMN!" The realization of the magnitude of danger renders him speechless for a moment. "The sucker may have refrigeration to stabilize the bombs. Damn! That cinches the likelihood of a bomb. Toys don't require temperature control. Hell, Mando. Can you disable that thing? The risk of our bomb squad being spotted and the bastard going ballistic and committing a full scale massacre eliminates their involvement. There is no cover between the squad and that building."

"Gentlemen, Chuck here. I'm going on hold to tell the Chief not to cut power to the building so the chill box will remain cool. Be right back." He disappears from the line.

"Mando, this is General Hogue. How can we contain the situation?" All my attention immediately shifts on the General.

"The bomb must be disabled on site, Sir. It can't be moved first. But we've got a bigger problem."

"And that is?"

"I don't know how this involves terrorists, or how they put it together using a non-Muslim, but they'll have a fail-safe in place."

"Terrorists? Not a lone gunman?"

"No, sir. This situation has all the marks of a terrorist act. If so, there will be at least one more hidden detonator after the main one is deactivated. A bomb squad won't expect a third or fourth, and won't look hard for it."

"God damn, Mando! These terrorists' bastards are getting mighty sophisticated"

"So it seems, General." I don't mention that I designed the baffling bamboozle box that houses the bomb.

Chuck is back . "All right Mando, I hope your legendary instincts and analytical skills are wrong."

"Amen," they all agree.

"Can you do this?" His voice is tense, yet hopeful.

"I'll figure it out Chuck. Test the coordinates and notify the military and airport to clear a path for my white medevac chopper. A cold fear crawls up my spine like a scorpion ready to sting because I know that is a one of a kind, two stage bomb that can accelerate to a hundred thousand degrees Fahrenheit in minutes. We'll all be converted to steam. Vaporized. But this is what I do, and I must do it. The hostages plus every life within a ten mile radius are at stake. I picture the bomb and shiver. That bomb is death incorporated. And I made it.

"Confirm my authority for lethal action if necessary."

"It'll be in your email in two."

"Bye, Chuck. Craig, have your boys discovered Intel that confirms our suspicions?"

"Yes, Mando. Do the names Joseph Mohamed Ben Fadden and Nasef Altola Ben Aziz mean anything to you?"

A shadow falls over my face and I cringe as the names reach my ears.

"Yes. Ben Aziz is second in command of the largest terrorist organization in the Middle East, and Joseph Ben Fadden is an explosive expert. Like me, he is a chemist. He designs and builds bombs. Why?"

"Both are on a yacht about fifty miles off the coast in international waters. A lot of activity among the groups, and leader-want-to-be's are fighting and jousting for position. If a young fanatic leader is in charge who is willing to break tradition to get the job done, this non-traditional approach could be accepted. That explain this nontraditional war tactic."

Chill runs down my spine. "That's confirmation enough. Meanwhile, see if you can dig up the connection between the man and the Sons' of Allah. Judging from his military and history of mental illness, I imagine they recruited him by telling he could save the president."

"That fits the profile and his associations for the past four months. Another confirmation is a munitions scientist researching super powerful munitions for the Government has been on leave for the past several months, whereabouts unknown. A month ago his family disappeared too."

"Name?" I'm afraid of the answer. I'm not entirely sure if I even want to hear it because I'm certain I know who it is. Who it must be.

"Dr. Fredrick Heisenberg." The words echo through my mind at a hundred degrees below zero. Triple chills do a Flamenco dance on my spine at the base of my brain. It had to be him. He's a partner in the munitions plant I own a third of. "That settles it. He's one of the three that could build and stabilize the bomb. Gentlemen, we've got a potential chaos and world threat that will accomplish Hitler's goal of world dominion in less time than it took him to write Mein Kamf."

When the curses and exclamations to die down I sign off.

"I've got to get a handle on this ASAP, gentlemen. I'm gone." I disconnect.

That call ends and the other phone sings out Gino 's ringtone. Do I have time to answer? Oh hell, why not? I shrug and pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"

Danny, got a minute?"

"I'm sorry but no. A gunman is holding kindergarten kids and teachers hostage, and I'm being asked to help."

His voice goes offline a few seconds as he processes the information. It's clear he wants to say something, but changes his mind and says, "Go get them, Superwoman."

Thank you!" I bite my lower lip nervously. "Wish me luck. There are so many lives at stake I can't afford to mess this up."

"You won't. I have faith in you." His words warm my heart like kindling flames and calm my jittery nerves. My lips do their upside down rainbow imitation by smiling so big my dimples show.

I end the call happy, but tense. Time for my game face. My fully focused faculties narrow my thoughts to this event and block all else. Game time. I can do this and live to tell the tale. Yes I can.

The pictures are clear satellite photos. The blueprints hold no surprises. I'm looking for the usual ways in, like skylights, side doors, outside fire escapes. There's a skylight over a big play area, but the space is empty.

The front of the building is open and exposed. No way to sneak in. I examine the playground. Two doors. Enough of this. Guerrilla warfare tactics are all that's left. Time to alert Kammy in the next room. I call out, "Kammy, saddle up and prepare the red cross chopper. We have a hostage situation."

Her high pitched excited voice snaps back. "I'm on it."

The Chuck phone buzzes again."Yes, Chuck?"

"Turn on channel five."

"What..."

He ends the call, cutting my words before I can complete a sentence. That's unlike Chuck. This situation has him wound tighter than a clock spring and more antsy than an ant farm condominium . I'm not sure what I'll see on TV, but I'm about to find out.

I snatch the remote control off the coffee table and turn on channel five. The hostage taker is front and center. I study his cargo pockets. Grenades. A whole flock of them. The SWAT sniper can't get a clear shot because the bastard has a human shield of five kids on each side and in front of him on rolling tables c-clamped together in a V formation that obstructs the view of his upper body and face.

I study the situation for a minute and bingo!. An epiphany springs into view in lucid detail and vivid color. I call Chuck. "Chuck, I see a way to handle this. If the situation holds constant, I can neutralize him."

He knows not to ask how. "Right. Land your chopper on the annex portion of the convention center near the Hilton Hotel. The fire escape is only two stories. A uniform will bring you in."