Panthera Spelaea Ch. 51-60

I threw an extra cushion down on the deck and moved between Svetlana's long, tanned legs. "I'm going to take my time with you, love," I told her as I placed my turgid rod at her opening. I rubbed it around, then pushed it along her swollen lips as Anna licked it from below. I lubricated my thumb with her juices and started to rub it around her puckered star. Neither girl had given me their ass yet, but we were working up to it. Svetlana went off like a firecracker with the anal play.

"God, just FUCK me already," my blonde bombshell begged.

"Whatever you say, dear." I moved back to her entrance and pushed the head inside. Svetlana was desperate for more and tried to move back to get it. Anna and I held her in place as I filled her slowly and surely. As I bottomed out, she came the first time, helped by Anna sucking hard on her clit while flicking her tongue over the nub. My little mate had learned a lot about pleasing Svetlana, and she put that knowledge to work.

The two of us teased Svetlana for twenty minutes with slow strokes from my cock, licks from her tongue, and a thumb circling her ass. Both of my girls came twice more before I quickened the pace. It didn't take long before Svetlana couldn't concentrate on Anna anymore. She was moaning loudly, only responding to the hard fucking she was getting. When I knew she was close to a massive orgasm, I let myself start to cum as I plunged my thumb into her ass without warning.

Her scream might have woken people on the beach. I felt her entire body stiffen as she milked me for my seed. When I pulled out, Anna cleaned us both up. I sat with my back to the window as Anna extended Svetlana's orgasm until she begged for mercy.

Both girls looked worn out. I opened the door and carried Svetlana to the bed, tucking her in before going back to get Anna. The three of us napped until the steward knocked and told us Ekatarina's helicopter was inbound.

Once again, my cat didn't want the girls to shower, and we all understood why. They smelled like sex. This scent, along with the bruises from my teeth marks on their shoulders, was a sign of my ownership of them. "We should get dressed for dinner," I said as I saw the time.

I pulled on lightweight cotton pants, a button-down shirt, and boat shoes. The girls put on lacy white lingerie under wispy-thin matching silk print dresses and white sandals. The clothing made a statement that they were together, and the necklines showed off the marks. Each of them took an arm as we left our room and headed towards the bow of the ship.

We arrived in Art's office as the helicopter was on his final approach. All of us except Art and one crew member stayed inside as the pilot touched down on the pad. Ekatarina handed out a bag, then Art helped her down and away from the spinning blades. The helicopter took off again as soon as they were clear.

Ekatarina looked like a tourist in her wide sunglasses, wearing white shorts, sandals, and a silk blouse. She was a tiny thing next to Art's massive body. I chuckled as I realized it was the first time I'd seen her dressed. The only previous time we'd met, she was wearing a hotel robe with nothing under it.

Art brought her into the office, where she greeted us all like old friends. "It's good to see you safe," she told me after I leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'm sure Art has explained to you why it was necessary?"

"He did," I said. "You remember Svetlana and Anna?"

"Of course! Once you share a jacuzzi, you're friends for life." The girls greeted her warmly, as did Olivia and Duncan. With their friendship, those three got together at least once a year. Edward hadn't seen her since he moved to Tasmania. Other than hairstyles, everyone looked the same as they always did.

"You have perfect timing," Art told her. "Grab your drinks. Dinner is ready."

Art was at the head of the table, with me to his left and Edward, then Duncan and Olivia to his right. Ekatarina sat between Svetlana and Anna, and the crew and senior leadership filled the rest of the table with the Captain at the far end. The first course was a salad, and Art's interrogation started immediately. "Ekatarina, what the hell happened in Moscow?"

"We got sloppy," she replied. "We expected that Viktor would have surveillance on John and the girls. We knew what room the agents were in and that they had bugged your hotel room. We had that part well in hand."

"We?" I'd only seen Ekatarina.

"My security people in Moscow," Art said. "Marina wasn't the only person I had supporting you. As I told you, I had people watching your AND watching over you."

Ekatarina continued. "The bugs were simple; we knew the frequencies they were using and jammed them while we were talking. What we didn't know until after I left was that they had an agent across the street with binoculars and a camera, and he saw me switch and fly off."

"Jesus," Edward said. "Did you get him taken care of?"

"Yes, but it was a lucky break. The surveillance team leader called Viktor and told him they had to show him something. We were monitoring Viktor's phone and followed him to the hotel. Art's people broke into their room and tranquilized the four men. You couldn't be in Russia for what was going to follow, John. We had to get you out of there."

Art agreed. "I have a family member in the NSA who keeps an eye on such things. He passed the information to the Embassy, and I arranged for the private plane. Marina made sure it looked like you got out of there in a hurry."

"And thank you for that," I said. "What did you learn from Viktor and his men?"

"All four were Criminal Investigative Division agents, but from different commands. Only Viktor was officially on your case. Viktor's boss didn't authorize the surveillance; someone else was behind it."

"Who?"

"I'll get to that. We used chemical interrogation to get what we needed from the men, then set it up to look like a Russian mob hit. They turned up dead last night, and we had enough time to plant evidence of the men's involvement in human and drug trafficking. Nothing will trace back to you, John. You were long gone by then."

I still didn't have an answer. "Who is behind Viktor? Who wants my Lion?"

"Mikhail Abrahmov."

"Jesus Christ," Art said. "Abrahmov? That fucker is behind this?"

I had no idea who it was. "I don't know who you are talking about."

The girls recognized the name. "He's a Russian oligarch, worth billions of your dollars," Anna said.

"Correct," Ekatarina said. "Mikhail Abrahmov, born in 1955 in St. Petersburg. He is a scientist with degrees in metallurgy and physics. He worked in the Soviet space program and as a consultant to the steel industry. In the nineties, he made a fortune in the mineral trading market. As they say, cash is king, and he took advantage when the Russian economy tanked. While other oligarchs focused on banking or manufacturing, Mikhail was buying mines and steel mills. Many of these suppliers weren't getting paid and were in danger of going under, so he got them cheap and reaped the benefits when the economy improved."

Art took over. "Unlike the politically connected oligarchs after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Mikhail didn't have insider connections. What he did have was ready cash and smarts. He achieved a near-monopoly of steel and rail construction within the Russian Federation. Last I heard, he was personally worth six billion dollars, and his company lists more than twenty billion in assets."

"Eight point seven billion as of earlier this year," Ekatarina corrected.

It didn't make sense. "So, what does a Russian steel magnate have to do with me?"

Ekatarina stared at me. "Mikhail has all the power, money, and influence one could want. He also has terminal cancer. Specifically, it is Stage Four Pancreatic Cancer. He's undergoing treatments, but the outlook isn't good. His chance of making it through the next year is about one in five."

Now it was making sense. Mikhail could have anything in the world but a long life. "And how did he know about me?"

"That's my fault. Mikhail's grandmother worked with me during the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917. We were together during the Storming of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg." She paused to take a drink of wine. "She was the eyewitness to what became the Legend of the Palace Eagle."

Ch. 56

"The Palace Eagle? I've never heard that one," I said.

"It's a rather unfortunate legend because it is true, even though it sounds fantastic," Art said. "I had my people discredit it as best they could, but it had spread too far by the time I was able to mount any response."

"Perhaps I should just tell the story," Ekatarina said.

"Please," Svetlana said. "My Grandmother told me about it when I was a little girl."

"I grew up in Petrograd, what we call St. Petersburg now. I was born in 1896; my father was a doctor, and my mother his nurse. We had a good life, a comfortable life, and I was their only child. They doted on me and made sure I had a proper education. I was helping in my Father's practice before I was sixteen. Everything changed when the Tsar declared war on Germany in 1914."

"You were sixteen?"

"Yes. Medical personnel in wartime are at a premium, and my father was conscripted into service and sent to the front lines in 1915. My mother followed six months later, conscripted into the Sisters of Mercy, the Russian Army's nursing corps. I entered my nursing training, which at the time was a year long. By the time I graduated, my parents were both dead."

"Oh, God," Anna said.

"There was a constant flood of casualties back to Russia, and Petrograd got their share. I was lucky enough to serve in military hospitals and not on the front lines. The war didn't go well for Russia, and protests against it grew. The Bolsheviks and others didn't see the point in the war, and the Tsar's power wasn't enough. The second major Russian offensive of the war in 1916 had stalled out, and casualties were horrendous. By 1917, the anti-war movement was everywhere. Russian casualties in World War One were in the millions, with millions more injured. The economy was in shambles, and the revolutionaries kept gaining power. It got so bad that the Winter Palace turned into a large Army Hospital. Trainloads of injured soldiers would arrive, and I cared for thousands of them. That is where I met Rimma. She was one of five nurses assigned to my wing."

"Your wing? You were what, twenty-one?"

"I'd been a nurse for several years by then, and I was in charge because I had the most training and experience. Nurses were dying from war and disease so quickly that they shortened nursing training to only two months."

My girls, both nurses, were horrified. "You can't learn this job in two months!"

"I know. My nurses could empty bedpans, change bandages, and do other tasks, but they had little medical knowledge. I did what I could, but we were overwhelmed by the numbers. The doctors had it even worse; I had to triage who even got to see them. My wing had almost three hundred soldiers in it with only six nurses. I didn't pay much attention to the growing rebellion in the streets or politics because I had a job to do."

Art picked it up so Ekatarina could get a few bites in. "Russia was falling apart by this point. Tsar Nicholas II abdicated the throne in February of 1917. Political power shifted to a provisional government. For many, this was a chance to change from a monarchy to a Western-style representative government. Unfortunately, the Bolsheviks were gaining power among the poor and the returning soldiers. It also didn't help that Alexander Kerensky's provisional government was just as ineffective and heavy-handed. The Provisional Government was in an impossible position, with the military threatening a coup d'etat on the one hand and the Bolsheviks on the other. The revolutionaries spread rumors that the Provisional Government was going to abandon Petrograd and move to Moscow. That was the last straw for the troops in the area. On October 25^th, 1917, Vladimir Lenin ordered the Bolsheviks to attack the Winter Palace. The garrisons threw in with the revolutionaries, opening the arsenal to them. A group of Reds took advantage of the confusion in what became known as the Storming of the Winter Palace. They entered the Winter Palace and took Provisional Government into custody."

Ekatarina picked the story up. "The attack began with shelling from the cruiser Aurora, followed by artillery from across the river. There was no warning for us in the hospital wing; one moment, everything was quiet. The next, a shell crashed through the walls of our ward. Dozens of injured men were screaming for help, and there was so much dust in the air. The nurses and I ignored the shelling and ran for the wounded. I was checking them over when I touched a soldier's neck, looking for a pulse. I felt something like an electric jolt before I blacked out."

I knew that exact sensation. "The soldier was an eagle switcher."

"Yes. I woke up three days later, naked and freezing, a hundred feet up in a dead tree in the hills outside Lake Pihkva. I'd moved over three hundred kilometers to the southwest without knowing how."

I couldn't imagine. At least I woke up in a hospital. "What did you do?"

"I climbed down the tree and headed for the lake I saw in the distance. It was hell; my entire body ached, and I had no shoes or clothes. Just before dark, I came across a small house. I was hypothermic, scratched up, and my feet were cut and raw. I looked like hell but was lucky to be found by a fisherman's wife and not soldiers. The couple took me in and cleaned me up. It took a week to heal up to the point I could get out of bed again."

"Those aches were horrible," I commiserated. "I don't know how you walked out of there."

"It was that or lay down and die," Ekatarina said. "When I could travel, the couple brought me to the town of Pskov. I worked there for a few weeks, but it didn't last. I blacked out again."

"Your eagle wanted out."

She nodded. "The next time I awoke, I was in the mountains west of Nodvirna, in modern-day Ukraine. That's where I lived for the next month, learning to co-exist with my eagle. She was a good hunter, and I was able to get a job at the local clinic. I moved around Europe for the next forty years, learning seven languages while I worked at hospitals. I knew I was different, and I was scared."

Art picked up the story. "She wasn't easy to find. My people finally caught up with her in Finland, tracing her from a sighting in St. Petersburg in the late sixties."

I raised an eyebrow. "You went back?"

"It was a mistake," Ekatarina said. "I was sitting outside a café when I heard a woman scream. She was in her late sixties, her hair gone gray, and she hadn't aged well. 'Ekatarina?' She was frozen, and when I looked up, I recognized her. It was Rimma. 'How? I saw you become an eagle and fly away! You haven't changed a bit!' I had to do something, so I told her my Grandmother was Ekatarina. I ran out the back of the café and disappeared, leaving the country immediately."

"When I brought Ekatarina into the fold, she told us about Rimma. We sent our people out, only to find she'd passed away of a heart attack. We thought that was the end of it," Art told us.

"How did you know about her?"

"After the fall of the Palace, rumors spread about how a majestic Golden Eagle appeared in the Winter Palace, flying away through the hole in the ceiling. Some believed the eagle represented the Monarchy leaving the Russian people behind as the Bolsheviks took over. A half-dozen people witnessed the eagle inside the Palace, and maybe a dozen more watched it fly away outside. The story was too fantastic to be true. It became a legend of the time."

"Except with Rimma," I said. "She saw you switch, and then Rimma saw you again, looking the same as you looked during the Revolution. Not only does she know you have the power, she knows that you are potentially immortal."

Ekatarina nodded. "No one believed her, though now I think we can say her family did. Mikhail Abrahmov would have heard about it from her. He knows Switchers are out there, and when one dies, the person who touches them gets the gift. He's never been able to locate me, but he has tried."

I nodded. "How does this translate to me?"

Edward answered this one. "A cave lion disappears in Siberia and reappears weeks later in Moscow. Mikhail is a scientist. He saw the photos, and he knows that it wasn't an African lion with a haircut crossing the street. You are a nobody until something happens with a cave lion carcass lost for millennia, and now you're a suspect in multiple murders involving a lion. If you truly believe a woman can become a Golden Eagle with a touch, is it a stretch to think a Cave Lion attached himself to a human the same way? Especially since Lions have been a symbol of royalty for centuries?"

"It gets worse," Art said. "The man who Ekatarina touched was buried after that night. His remains were stolen five years ago from the cemetery. There is only one reason to do that."

Shit. I used this technology all the time. "Carbon dating?"

"Exactly. Carbon-14 dating relies on the ratio of carbon-14 to carbon-12 over time, starting when the organism stops growing. I obtained a copy of the lab report. They considered it contaminated because some samples were a hundred years old, while others were five hundred. To Mikhail, it was proof that of his grandmother's claim that the eagle switcher never aged. He knows our secret, John, and he knows you have a Lion."

Our dinner was interrupted by a piercing siren. "What is that?"

"Pirate alarm," the Captain said as they ran out the door.

Ch. 57

"Those who want to fight with me. Those who don't, follow Julie," Art said as he stood from the table. Julie was one of the young servers.

"Do you have guns?" Olivia was moving towards Art with Duncan at her side. Edward was going his way too.

"Lots of them. John, can you shoot? I'd rather we not go beast just yet. It makes us too easy to target."

Could I shoot? "I'm a Texan. I could shoot before I could walk."

The Captain was on the PA system. "Repel boarders, Repel boarders. Four speedboats, twenty assumed hostiles off the starboard quarter. Hold fire for my command."

I looked at my girls. "Your choice."

"We can use shotguns," Anna said. We had a pump-action shotgun at the dacha, and I'd taught the girls how to use it just in case.

"Come on." Art led us towards his office. The hallway was full of crew members gearing up as hidden storage compartments exposed protective gear and a small armory. As you walked through, you grabbed a bulletproof vest, a Kevlar helmet, a weapon, and extra ammo. Since we were guests, we waited until last. The crew geared up quickly, each person's gear with their names and designated weapons and positions. "Jenny, help the girls gear up with shotguns. They can join us on the bridge."

"Yes, boss," the young server said. The girls donned their gear and grabbed stainless steel Remington 870 Marine combat shotguns. I donned my gear and looked at the weapons remaining. I'd done a lot of hog hunting, so I picked an M4 with a scope and stuffed extra magazines in the webbing of my vest. The rifle was identical to the rifles I used on our ranch, except the select-fire lever for single shot, three-round burst, or full auto. "Be safe," I told the girls as they headed for the stairs with Art and Jenny. "I love you."

There was no way I'd let the attackers get anywhere close to the bridge. "Where can you use help," I asked the second mate at the end of the line. Edward has chosen a bolt-action scoped rifle, while Duncan and Olivia had M4's like me.

"Main deck aft," he said. "The hull is steel and provides some protection up to the gunwales. Stay low and use the scuppers as firing ports." We followed him out to the starboard side, hunched over to stay hidden. "Find a port and listen to the announcements."