Life as a New Hire Ch. 43

"What do you mean?" Saira questioned.

"The title Mr. Nyilas was identified with means 'beloved brother of the Great Khaan'," he explained. "The Kazakhs don't tossing honorifics like that around. This guy," again pointing at me, "is a really important somebody."

"Thanks for dropping this grenade in my lap, OT," I joked. "I'll get you for this ... and your little yak too."

"Odette is going to be so miffed that she missed this," Pamela chuckled.

"Mr. Nyilas ..." Zelda began.

"Please, call me Cáel. It is how I roll."

"Cáel, can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Go right ahead," Pamela snorted. "Cáel does stupid real well. It is a critical part of his skill set. It makes him adorable instead of annoying. Trust me, you'll learn that soon enough."

Too much 'trust me' was flying around in a room where nobody trusted anybody.

"Thanks for that encouragement, Teach," I grumbled. "Ask away, Captain Zelda."

"Why are you playing this game with us?"

"I wasn't. Until thirty seconds ago I was sure I was here totally as a spectator," I gripped. "My buddy," the word dripped with sarcasm, "Temujin likes dumping these kinds of surprises on me."

"Did you mean what Ms. Pale said about you feeling you owed me?" Chris asked.

"Absolutely."

"We need help defusing this Thailand crisis before a shooting war begins."

"What do you suggest?"

"We want the Khanate to back down," Chris stated firmly.

"I thought we had agreed that I would spearhead this delegation," Nisha reminded Chris.

"I think the situation had evolved and we need a different approach," Chris insisted.

"You should listen to the Lieutenant Colonel," I advised. "He knows a whole lot more about what is going on than you do."

"Why don't you explain it to us?" she began her weevil-ling.

"You are engaging in linguistic niceties with men who have bled together, Ms. Biswal," I instructed. "Not that Chris and I have bled on the same battlefield, we have shed blood in the same cause; and that cause has been bringing our two nations - the Khanate and the US - together. The Khanate owes Chris for his efforts on our behalf and we pay our debts."

"How so?" Nisha asked.

"National Security stuff," I evaded. "If you don't know, you shouldn't know and you probably don't want to know. Suffice it to say, the Khanate is willing to listen to Lt. Colonel Diaz's request as a friend."

"But he doesn't speak for the United States Government," she corrected.

"Why not?" I riposted. "He's dealt with the Khanate longer than you have. He has a clue about the mindset of their rank and file."

"But does he know their leadership?" she persisted.

"I don't know. Chris, do you think you have a handle on me?"

"Are you really capable of talking for the Khanate government?" Nisha preempted Chris. What she left unsaid was 'are you culpable in their atrocities?'

"Let's find out," I then looked over my shoulder. "Hongtaiji Oyuun Tömörbaatar, will my words and wishes reach my brother's ear?"

"That is why I am here," he replied.

"Don't you have the authority to speak for your leader?" she grilled OT. Nisha was relentless trying to stay in the limelight. "Aren't you a diplomat?"

"There is no need to insult the man," Pamela snidely commented.

"I am one of many voices that provide information to the Great Khan. I am not his brother. Cáel Nyilas is and has already proved his familial affection by proposing Operation Funhouse and brought whole nations as gifts," OT schooled her. "He is gifted with both tactical and strategic insight as well as sharing the Great Khan's love for his people and his hopes for their eventual freedom."

"I didn't think you were a soldier," Zelda looked me over.

"Oh no," I wove off that insinuation. "I've never been a real soldier and am unworthy of that distinction. I know quite a few who have earned that title and they scare the crap out of me. I mean, they go looking for trouble. In my case, trouble comes looking for me. I'm damn lucky to still be alive and that's the damn truth."

"Bullshit," Pamela coughed.

"What was that, Artemisia?" I winked at her.

"Bitch," she laughed "My men have become women, and my women men. At least you didn't call me Cassandra."

"Well, she's Greek (a deadly insult to all Amazons), but you could be her Evil Twin because everyone believes whatever you say."

"Can we get down to business?" Chris inquired.

"Damn," Pamela shook her head. "They haven't been paying attention."

"What does that mean?" Zelda griped.

"Iskender, you know what I'm talking about, don't you?" I asked.

"Not a clue, Exalted One," he stood there like a stone statue. Note, the Khanate contingent really were standing there like the Altai Mountains, doing nothing. You had to carefully examine them to see that they did indeed breathe and blink.

"Use small words," Pamela advised.

"You really are a rude misanthrope," Anais told Pamela.

"Do you know what's going on?" Pamela volleyed.

"No."

"Then sit back and watch how the madness works," she snickered. "It is all you, Cáel."

"Okay. One; how did Artemisia escape the battle of Salamis?" I began. Nothing.

"Oh ..." Justin nodded. "She rammed an allied ship to make the pursuing Athenians think she was an ally. What does that have to do with our current predicament?"

"Achieve your ends by using violence as a distraction," I sighed. "The Khanate will invade Thailand in ...," I looked to OT, "tomorrow?" He nodded.

"How does that help us?" Nisha complained.

"Second example - Cassandra. She saw the truth through all illusions and falsehoods and no one believed her. Now, reverse that."

Pause.

"We are waiting," Saira finally joined the conversation. I could hear those little microprocessors inside her noggin firing electrons at light speed.

"We fight a phony war. The Khanate and their buddies invade in a lightning campaign that appears to be successful. Shit like attacking the opposition where they ain't. Things that look epic on CNN where some retired colonel - no offense..."

"None taken," Chris responded.

"Where some colonel talks about seizing resources, severed supply lines and encirclement. We - the Khanate - bomb shit like bridges and supply dumps - things with no civilians to get killed. On the downside, to make this work the Khanate needs to put some level of force into Bangkok."

"That will get civilians killed," Nisha reminded me - unnecessarily.

"Civilians are getting killed right now by their own government. This time they will get a chance to strike back," I stated firmly. "The Thai protestors aren't cowards. They are just grossly outgunned. We can change that."

"How does that help the United States?" Nisha queried.

"The US gets to come in and save the day," I sighed. "The US CAN'T get there until the day after, so you don't look bad about letting the first 24 hours of brutality happen."

"Oh," Zelda blinked.

"The US gets to end the fighting that the Khanate has no desire to continue. The US brings peace ... while whomever takes over owes the Khanate. Both sides look good. Both sides claim victory. The President gets a second Nobel Peace Prize [psychic, aren't I?]. The US gathers some regional allies like Malaysia, the ROC and the Philippines along with our Marines to ensure free and fair elections. The Khanate isn't seen to be backing down against the Titan of Western Civilization. They are working with them to bring about a better world."

"Win-win," Saira nodded in agreement.

"The Khanate is still an autocratic tyranny," Nisha commented.

"As opposed to the People's Republic's oligarchical tyranny?" Chris countered.

"Agreed," Saira said. "I now think we should work with the Khanate to bring stability to Central Asia which which was impossible while those member nations were being squeezed between Russia, Europe, China and India."

"What are you a doctor of?" I asked.

"I specialize in 'failed states' ... among other things," Saira grinned.

"This could still turn into one bloody cluster-fuck," Zelda mused.

"My peopled don't have the resources to devastate Thailand," OT finally spoke. "If you, the US, agrees to intervene on our timetable, you will have our thanks - off the record, of course."

"How do we know this isn't some ruse to allow the Khanate to overthrow Thailand's existing government?" Justin questioned.

"You have my word," I replied. No one said anything for several heartbeats.

"Really?" Nisha balked.

"Mr. Nyilas - Cáel, do you give me the Great Khan's word?" Chris studied me intently.

"Without reservation," I answered. "For what you have done for us and more, the Great Khan will honor this deal. We and the Thai's will do the bleeding. You will get your accolades. We avoid a pointless clashing of forces, which is why we are all here today."

"I will give you my written recommendation in a few hours," Saira told Nisha.

Chris stepped forward to shake my hand. He was an alpha-type alright. I gave as good as I got. His eyes bore into mine, looking for a faltering of will.

"What did you do in Romania?"

"I got a lot of good men killed."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Nisha squawked. "A handshake, a pat on the back and the deals done? Since when did our democratic republic do business this way? He admitted he got men killed in Romania. What is to say this won't be Romania writ large?"

"Ms. Biswal, he told the truth. He got good men killed and he isn't happy about it. I would be worried if he claimed one bit of glory from that episode. He didn't."

"Nisha," I took a deep breathe, "When you unleash men with weapons, nothing is assured. Maybe the Thai government will see the hate coming their way and back down. Maybe the people will resist the intrusion. Maybe the Khanate's forces will get slaughtered at the starting line. It isn't like they have enough time to deploy enough forces to win a protracted war."

"What happens if the Khanate decides it won't go?" she continued.

"Then they get destroyed on the ground in a war of attrition," Chris answered for me. "He's right. They can't bring enough in the time allotted to completely overwhelm the roughly 120,000 members of the Royal Thai Army that have remained loyal to the regime."

"In three days they will be out of fuel, shells, rockets and bullets. It is logistics, Ms. Biswal," Zelda piled it on. "The Khanate war-fighting systems are not NATO compatible. That means they can't simply capture more material as they penetrate the frontiers. If they overstay their welcome, we can launch missile strikes against their fuel depots. The combat devolves back to World War I and that's a style of war they can't afford to fight."

"What about stopping the Khanate from invading in the first place?" Nisha wouldn't give up.

"Had the US acknowledged the Khanate, none of this would have happened, Ms. Biswal," I became snappish. "Neither superpower talked to the other until other commitments had been made."

"If you think you can come in and start dictating Khanate policy, you are dreadfully mistaken. The US doesn't have the power, or the resolve," I glared at her. "Don't try convincing the Khanate that isn't the case. We know better."

"You don't know what the US is capable of," she snapped back.

"Abandoning Iraq with a fractured pseudo-democratic process? Abandoning Afghanistan without destroying the Taliban? The Syrian Civil War? The Donbass Crisis? The collapse of Libya? Boko Haram? Somalia? Yemen? Exactly how has the US's power and resolve solved any of those issues?" I countered.

"Ms. Biswal," OT spoke again. "We are willing to create a desert and call it 'Peace'. Our enemies know that. Your unwillingness to do so is neither a strength nor a weakness. It is a hallmark of your society in the same way that 'Total War' is a hallmark of ours. We are more than willing to leave you to manage the Peace. Let us manage the War against the forces opposed to civilized discourse."

"As ugly and disagreeable as it is, we are willing to keep creating pyramids of skulls on every street corner until either they learn their lesson, or we kill them all. Let us do that and you will have your global stability and reap the economic benefits and accolades of Pax Americana. We are not your enemy. We are precisely the ally you need to keep the peace and we will do that, if you let us."

"To allow barbarism is to become barbarians," Saira mused.

"That is complete fiction," I scoffed. "The United States didn't become communist because it allied with the Soviet Union in World War II. Truman didn't become Stalin. The enemy of my enemy is my friend is older than recorded history."

"It is the Carrot and the Stick on a Global basis," Justin agreed. "Listen to the gentle words of the West, or you will end up feeling the wrath of the East."

"As long as the Khanate accepts the limitations of is role," Saira added, "this might work. Please understand there will be factions in the Western Democracies who will not accept that status quo. It is not in the nature of our societies to stifle dissent."

"Is it possible to get any political concessions from the Khanate's leadership?" Justin requested. "A pledge to hold some level of democratic elections? A Constitution with some strong provisions to protect individual rights and liberties would be nice."

"Justin, in case your bosses missed it, the Khanate is still at a state of war with the PRC," I shook my head. "With their limited experience with democratic government throughout most of the Khanate's territories, that would be madness."

"With limited concessions to the Imperial State, we have not interfered with the politics of Albania, Armenia, Georgia and Turkey. We are never going to become a Western-style democracy. We have had limited rule by consensus long before White Men arrived in the Western Hemisphere," OT informed them.

"Discounting the Irish Monks, Vikings and Knights Templar," Pamela interjected.

"If you say so," OT gave a minuscule bow to Pamela. "Long before your nation was anything more than the scribbled history of a long-faded Greek city-state, we had meritocracies, oligarchies of senior statesmen & warriors, thinkers and religious leaders, and we had codified judicial moral equality into the political arena. We have a far superior record of religious and minority freedom, of genuine multi-culturalism plus a deeper understanding of the arts and crafts as a means of uniting disparate peoples. We find your claims of cultural superiority to be childish."

"Oh ... snap," I snickered. "You get'em, OT."

"I bet the boys in Foggy Bottom felt that pimp-slap," Pamela agreed.

"I bet the bronzed skull of some Harvard dean just fell off its pedestal."

"They are called 'busts'," Anais groaned. "With a name like that, how could you forget it?"

"So true," I concurred. "All this responsibility must have clouded my normally hedonistic vocabulary."

"That doesn't change the fact that you have employed biological warfare and genocide in this current day and age," Justin pointed out.

"Tell that to our Native Americans," I snorted. "They are easy to find. They live in trailer parks in whatever blasted Hell Hole we stuck them in ... or in their casinos where they are buying back their country, one rube at a time. Ask them if they've gotten over it."

"We don't claim to be perfect," Justin insisted.

"No, we merely claim to have the only correct form of government, economic policy and schools of philosophical, political, scientific and educational thought," I pointed out.

"We definitely should revive ethical utilitarianism," Pamela slapped a fist into her palm. "Oh - and the guillotine. Work houses for orphans and grist mills for the disabled ... and A Modest Proposal for those chronically unemployed and terminally homeless ... yes, and ..."

"Pamela, what is it with you today?" I snickered.

"It is nearly sunset ..."

"Ah, and you haven't killed anyone yet."

"You know how cranky I get when I don't get my daily dose of homicide."

"Are you two done?" Anais frowned. She did that a lot around me.

"And you don't hand out Mini-Uzi's to your preschoolers," Pamela glowered. "What is wrong with you people?"

Pause ... waiting for that punch line that was never coming. See, it was more difficult to sense Pamela was an immediate threat to your health if you thought she was completely off her rocker.

"Hmmmm ... well, on that note, ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a deal. Chris and Justin, I will leave you with my loyal Iskender to work out the gory details. Who wants to grab dinner?" I inquired.

"Are you serious?" Nashi gasped.

"Oh yeah. I had the Russian invasion of Manchuria figured out in this amount of time and Manchuria is way bigger than Thailand." Was it? I didn't know. Geography was not one of those subjects which gets you laid.

"What do you have in mind?" Zelda inquired.

"Whatever you want."

{1 am, Sunday, August 31st ~ 8 Days to go}

"How did I end up in bed with you?" Zelda sighed happily, her body splayed halfway over mine and her head resting on my chest, listening to my heartbeat.

"You aren't the first girl to ask me that question."

On the other side, Anais moaned in her sleep. Yeah, she was over me. Abso-fucking-lutely. If you recall, she'd try anything once. I convinced her the military babes were totally different than that Goth chick we'd blown the mind of back in Montreal.

**

Zelda was with me because I had caught her in a lie. She claimed to be a lesbian when I first hit on her. She was adamant. I destroyed her with incontrovertible evidence.

A) She hadn't scoped out Anais when she came in. A glance didn't count and Anais oozed sexy when she was angry ... which was most of the time.

B) She hadn't scoped out Juanita's figure when said worthy went to the kitchenette. I look for such things and Juanita has thighs to die for.

C) When I told her she had a wicked sense of humor, she blushed. Honestly, lesbians rarely care about strange men complimenting their personalities.

D) Then I double-downed by asking her if she preferred a shower, or bath. She said shower (because that's the butch thing to say). When I asked her 'when was the last time she'd had a bubble bath', she blushed again. Lesbians don't like it when a man imagines them naked. Straight chicks, unless you are a creepy, stalker guy, like it when men fantasize about them swathed in bubbles - thus semi-clothed - thus not creepy.

E) In a final and fatal act of evasion, she asked a grumpy Anais what she liked about me. Anais was blunt.

"He can fucking hammer you all night, sneak in a romantic quickie in the shower, cook you a delicious breakfast then give you another round of mind-numbing intercourse up against the wall before you have to go to work. And still find the time and energy to fuck your neighbor."

Woot!

**

"So, this happens to you often?" she mused - it was a trap. She really wanted to know if I was an egotistical scumbag who took advantage of every woman I came across. At the same time, she wanted to know if I considered her a 'whoe' ~ a woman who gives up the goodies for free.

"Do you mean 'am I taking advantage of you'?" I replied.

"That is not what I asked," she persisted. That meant 'yes'.

"Let me see," I laid back and looked up at the ceiling. "I have a fiancée, six women I am close enough to to spend quality time with, a fuck-buddy who is a sweet girl and trusts me too much and a passel of ex-girlfriends who have found my infidelity to be reprehensible."

"Six women?" she frowned.

"Four co-workers (Rhada, Oneida, Yasmin and Buffy), the girlfriend of a co-worker who dumped her in a very public fashion (Brooke) and that woman's friend (Libra). She was the wing-chick who was stuck with me on a quadruple-date and was underwhelmed with me when we first met."