Book 46 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!   The DemonWraiths' final test: Kill Zone   Lyssa ventured deep into Africa before and returned   Now she must go back to the Bloodfields, but with more   on the line than just herself this time. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers!

 

 

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Chapter 1

"We're about to depressurize. Standby. Three minutes to DZ. Depressurizing."

Lyssa stood up in the Bomb-Bay of the B-2 Spirit, snapped the mask in place and breathed in deep as the air turned icy cold. That feeling was all too familiar. The old set of Tiger Stripe BDUs did feel alien. It had been a very long time since they had been worn. The jungle boots as well. However, her usual one-piece black battlesuit and knee high boots would not benefit her this time. Her weapons harness, yes, but no tactical or ballistic vest. She would be absolutely vulnerable. Just as she had been the last time she was in this part of Africa. Once again, the Immortal would stalk the Bloodfields. Alone, just as the first time, she would be alone. No team of DemonWraiths. No Rodrick. No Tiffany. Not even Lonestar orbiting overhead in a gunship or commanding drones. No one. Only her.

"One minute. Standby."

Lyssa took a slow deep breath. "Throw open the gates and clear the throne. Here I come, Hell. I'm on my way."

"Deploying; Drop. Drop. Drop."

Lyssa leaned forward and fell out the bomb-bay. Forty-two-thousand feet high to jump and she pulled her chute at thirty-eight-thousand feet. High Altitude, High Opening. The HAHO jump allowed the jumper to travel thirty miles or more to a Landing Zone. For this jump, she would be pushing to sixty-five miles. Her goal was deep into denied territory. The night was dark and she had to rely on a commercial GPS unit taped to her wrist. The GPS was Japanese, uniform was Thai, boots from China and parachute from Germany. The only thing American; was her. Instead of the twin updated Desert Eagle Jerico in .40 caliber, she carried twin original issue Jerico 941s, currently chambering .41AE custom load ammunition. Werewolf rounds. She also carried the spare barrels and recoil springs to convert them to 9mm.

Lyssa gently touched down in a clearing only thirty meters wide. According to her watch, she had twenty minutes left of darkness. As fast as she could, a hole was scraped out using her knife and boot. The chute was stuffed down into it, along with the GPS unit and a small bag of thermite was sprinkled over it all then lit. Within seconds the canopy, risers, pack and harness turned to ashes. The dirt was dragged over and stamped down to smother the fire. Lyssa moved out, drinking from one of the three metal canteens along the back of her waistbelt. She put the canteen away then felt her right shoulder strap and the only luxury she had; a Russian incendiary grenade. It was there as a last resort to eliminate her identity. In case of complete operational failure she needed only to pull the pin, flip off the safety lever and hold it overhead. The grenade would ignite and explode, enveloping her in the burning three thousand degree Thermate. In short, in a flash, she would be melted to death and anonymity.

"Hello Burkina Faso, did you enjoy my absence? Time for you to relearn fear." Lyssa muttered to herself.

Every fifteen minutes she consulted the compass and map she carried, both were French. With such an erratic collection of equipment, there was absolutely no way she could be determined as American, only that she was not African of any origin. She carefully approached a clearing five kilometers from where she had landed. Slowly Lyssa circled around the perimeter until she found a Caucasian man sitting with his back to a tree, watching the clearing.

"Bonjour, avez-vous attendu longtemps?" Lyssa asked softly.

The man almost jumped straight up into the branches, but held back his scream.

Doing his best to calm down, he replied. "I speak English."

"Convenient. I don't have time to waste. Where are they?" Lyssa asked.

"I am Franco." The man said to the woman, who's face was swirled with two-tone green, black and brown.

Lyssa glared. "You're wasting my time. Where are they?"

Franco now understood this was not someone charms could be applied on and answered. "They are forty kilometers to the East, in Bohbi's encampment."

"Colonel Endigawa Bohbi?" Lyssa asked.

Franco nodded. "Yes. You know him?"

"Never met. How many does he have?" Lyssa asked.

Franco sighed. "Over four hundred. Almost five hundred. How many do you bring?"

Lyssa brought out her map and opened it then marked a point on it. "We are here. Show me where he is."

Franco looked at the map then pointed to a spot. "Here."

Lyssa marked the location with a pen. "Forty clicks? Looks more like fifty."

"Forty directly. We cannot go directly. It will become a little over fifty." Franco admitted.

Lyssa regarded the map then asked. "This road. Is it mined or patrolled?"

"It is patrolled. Bohbi's men. They can be avoided." Franco answered.

Lyssa watched him answer. She noticed the slight shift of eyes to the left. He was lying.

"Why can't I go directly?" Lyssa asked.

Franco traced a line with his finger on the map. "Here. A gorge, it is deep and wide. You must go around. The road goes around. Three days on foot. I will go with you. I know the patrols."

"I go alone." Lyssa said then moved back into the bush. "Do not follow me."

Lyssa only went a hundred feet and tucked into some underbrush, brushing away her prints. Franco crept along a few minutes later. He passed her hiding spot and circled back twice.

"Merde!" Franco hissed then moved on.

She waited another ten minutes then slithered away, deeper into the foliage. When she could finally stand up, she changed direction.

"All I needed was the player and base." Lyssa whispered to herself.

She set out on a straight route, the gorge. There was no doubt it was there. Also that it was wide and deep. None of that was in question. The map indicated so. She could negotiate it though. Though her equipment was the bare minimum, there were a few things in the pack no one expected. Especially the means to negotiate the gorge and cut an entire day off her travel time.

The news of Colonel Bohbi was disturbing. Twelve years ago; he'd been a mere captain and bloodthirsty. Only by pure luck he had been out of her path. He lost two hundred of his men that had been raiding villages in preparation for a coup. It seemed he was still overly ambitious. Lyssa's Kill-zone had taken her through the part of the country he had been using. The word then was that he was simply running a guerrilla force. She had discovered otherwise.

Guerrillas forces were common in west Africa. Usually more a collection of psychotics and murderers than militia. Mostly such groups roamed across borders pursuing blood diamonds, trafficking in anything of value and slaughtering. Something moved in the litter ahead. Lyssa reached into the pack and pulled the oddest item inside. A modified cloth pillowcase. Slowly and carefully, she advanced. When she closed to five feet away, it took notice and reared up. The thin grey snake was obvious. A Black Mamba. They were very aggressive when near their lair. It flared its mock-hood as Lyssa crouched lower and turned to the side slightly. Suddenly she flinched and blew out a deep breath she'd held for a moment. The viper lunged to strike. Lyssa was faster and caught it, slapped its head to the ground and pinned it with her boot.

"Hello, devil. I need your company, for a while." Lyssa said.

The snake was carefully forced into the pillowcase and tied off in two sections. It was a snake bag, reinforced to resist fangs. The bottom had a border large enough to hold the end, along with two grommet holes to slide onto a rod or stick. She tucked the bagged snake into her pack and continued on, feeling it thrash and strike.

Lyssa slapped at it. "Get meaner, I plan on introducing you to somebody that really earned your visit."

The sun set and she slowed down, checking her vector more frequently. An hour later she reached the edge of the gorge. Lyssa reached into the pack again. A small box was taken out and opened. Inside were a set of ashiko and kaginawa. Japanese climbing cleats for hands and feet. She strapped them on after putting the box back into the pack. Carefully Lyssa descended the rough rock side. The route down was difficult as the lack of light or visual imagery forced her to go by feel. The tungsten carbide teeth clung to the rock. Eighty-two feet to the bottom was a long way down. Rappelling down would be faster and safer, but she hadn't brought any rope, just a one-hundred foot length of 550 para-cord. Two hours later her feet touched bottom.

Lyssa waded across the hip deep creek then sat down to lean back against the side. "Finally."

While resting, she used a water bladder with a filter attached to refill her canteens with water then dropped in a tablet each. Thirty minutes to purify the water would give her enough time to rest before starting the ascent out of the gorge. The bladder was refilled and the water was filtered into a separate bladder and tablets added. It was a stronger grade of bladder that she could hang on her back. Ten liters of water. Every drop of safe water was critical. Unprocessed water in Africa was deadly. Finally she faced the side of the gorge and reached up. The ashiko dug into the rock with her weight and she began climbing out.

"The clock does tick. It's never my ally." Lyssa grunted as she climbed.

The ascent took less time than the descent. A hour and twenty minutes later Lyssa dragged herself over the edge. Half the night was gone. She moved on, putting the climbing gear away then drinking from a canteen. Two drinks, one to quench thirst and the other to hold in her mouth. The only light came from the stars, it was enough for her. Lyssa increased her pace to the airborne shuffle, it ate miles. An hour of running, five minutes of rest. The remainder of night passed as did the distance.

During the rest-stops Lyssa reapplied insect repellent. It was a mix of lemongrass, clove and three other oils that barely had scent to them. The uniform had been treated with chemicals during the flight, but skin was another matter. Sweat washed the oils away, requiring reapplication. The morning came, bringing heat. The temperature rose, but on she went. Time was essential, she had to make it to Bohbi's encampment by dusk.

 

~o~O~o~
 

Washington, D.C.

"Is this Asset up to the task, Senator?" A British man asked.

Jason Wesley nodded. "Absolutely. Though, I wouldn't say they are an Asset. Operative would be a poor descriptive as well. Let's just say, this individual isn't pigeon-holed so well. Also that they have a very particular experience with the area of operation, Sir Thomas."

"Please, just Thomas will do. The gravity of this situation sets aside formalities." Thomas Addington replied.

"Jason, please. I think we should bring in just one more person." Senator Wesley said then spoke into the intercom. "Send in Major Dannigan now."

Dannigan entered the room and nodded to everyone. "Ladies, gentlemen."

"Major, this is.." Jason Wesley began to introduce.

Dannigan had focused on the stranger from the moment he'd walked in. "Sir Thomas Addington; Under-Secretary to the Chairman, Her Majesty's Joint Intelligence Committee. A pleasure, Sir Thomas."

Sir Thomas nodded back. "Likewise, Major. I'm afraid not much of your reputation precedes you. I believe your good senator has called you in to bolster confidence in our current dilemma."

"More like; debacle. This is a damned mess." Dannigan growled.

Senator Williams shook her head. "I'd use more colorful descriptives."

"We'd all like different things on this. However, our hands are tied good." Senator Eisenbahn admitted.

Sir Thomas sighed. "It is regrettable. I do have some resources that would be up to the task, but our hands are tied as well, leaving only outsiders to be the option."

"An outsider I have access to." Dannigan said. "And in the interest of keeping things as quiet as possible, is now in country. This outsider comes with a price. Are we in agreement?"

Jason Wesley nodded. "Yes, Major."

"Indeed. What will this be costing Her Majesty's service?" Sir Thomas asked.

Dannigan concealed taking a deep breath by leaning forward. "For the Crown; there is a certain low-level asset that has gained attention. Negative attention. Give me complete access to the future disposition of that Asset. This will benefit you in the long run."

"Which Asset?" Sir Thomas asked warily.

Dannigan handed over a file.

Sir Thomas Addington read the file, winced and looked up. "Negative attention indeed. You wish to transfer this Asset into your service and take FULL responsibility?"

"Yes, but still remain in place and the good graces of current supervision." The big Spook replied. "Colonel Sean MacTaggart's supervision."

"I'm fairly certain I can work that out. Allow me a quick call." Sir Thomas answered and after getting a nod, stepped out of the SCIF.

Charlotte Peterson asked. "And the U.S.?"

"The U.S. Marshal Black Badge team has been undertaking a situation that could have many political ramifications. Fall-out by the metric-shitload." Dannigan told them.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Please don't tell us that whole Abrams fiasco!" Senator Bryan Delany groaned.

Dannigan sighed. "The same."

Jason Wesley called them all down. "Settle down. Yes, we know that team is actually under your command. That operation has turned into a complete nightmare. The question now is: what exactly do you want?"

Dannigan was direct. "Allow it to play out. I've contained operations to adhere to U.S. Policy, but there will be one catch. An incursion into Vatican city. Let it go. It needs to go this way to finish out and seal all breaches."

"You really know when to go for the jugular, Major. We're over the barrel." Senator Peterson commented.

Jack Eisenbahn snarled. "Dispense with the charades already. So be it, Major. You have approval, but rein in those damn Black Badges. They're making messes that are getting harder and harder to ignore."

"They'll calm down." Dannigan assured.

Sir Thomas re-entered the SCIF and looked to Dannigan. "We have an agreement. Tamara Smart will be affiliated to your organization, Major."

"Operational Designator: Steel Butterfly. On-Mission as we speak. This is not the first time they have been in that region. This mission will not fail. Even with the current compromise." Dannigan said.

Wesley looked surprised. "Compromise? How?"

Dannigan opened a file and held up a photo. "Franco Jeanvier. Local Fixer. Hired by Asclepius, our collection of wayward and extremely naive physicians, sold them down the river."

"Damn it all to Hell!" Sir Thomaas swore.

"Oh, it gets worse." Dannigan said, then held up a second photo. "Doctor Jazmina Fahrouk. Not really. Actually her name is Jahmira Zahmed, of MOIS. Ministry of Intelligence of the Islamic Republic of Iran."

"SHIT!" The Assembly shouted out collectively.

Dannigan nodded. "That's right. Her specialty is making contact with existing militia groups and 'improving their capabilities'. In short, she turns nuisances into terrorists."

"Please tell us Steel Butterfly is aware of this!" Jason Wesley demanded.

Dannigan smiled. "Affirmative. Now. Time, to deal."

"For the love of God, what more?" Senator Delany hissed.

Dannigan stood at the end of the table and leaned to it. "This is it. No more. Steel Butterfly does no more. For anybody. Full retirement."

"Done." Jason Wesley said, then had to hold up a hand to silence the rest of the committee. "Bring them out, dispose of the traitor and insurgent, lay waste to the nuisance, all while remaining unidentified to the group and Steel Butterfly is released."

"Then we're all understood. Sir Thomas, I'll work out the details with Colonel MacTaggart directly. Ladies, gentlemen; I'll notify you at conclusion of the operation." Dannigan said then turned to the monitor and nodded to the aide.

Kimberly appeared on screen. "Sir."

"All approved Captain, await contact from Steel Butterfly. Maintain lock-down." Dannigan ordered.

Kimberly saluted. "Yes Sir. Out."

The screen went back to the map of West Africa and Dannigan walked out. "Good evening."

In the hall, Dannigan muttered to himself. "Ok Lyssa. This one is for all marbles. The actual freedom you fight for this time; is your own."

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Chapter 2
Burkina Faso

Lyssa stood looking through binoculars at the encampment eight hundred meters away. The sun was setting behind her, preventing any reflection from the lenses.

"Well; aren't you all fancy now?" Lyssa remarked in disgust. "Evil psychotic son of a bitch. Be here this time or I'll chase you all over Hell's Creation, Bohbi. If War be an art, I will create a masterpiece of legend."

Lyssa moved into the brush, heading for a well used trail she had found and collecting some leaves and plant stems along the way. Three hundred meters out, she began working on traps. First was a Malaysian Man-Catcher. Twenty feet farther, a swing log and punji trench. Then came a lateral spear trap. Next a dead-fall. A spinning foot shredder came after that, followed by a drop grate. Five slap-poles were in a horizontal line across the trail. Each stake and spike were coated with a mix of the ground leaves and plant stems. The leaves held a compound that inflamed wounds and the plant stems contained an anti-coagulant. In short, the wounds would be excruciating and bleed profusely. On top of it all, the mixture had no scent.

"I hope Ho Chi Mihn is rolling in his grave, the bastard." Lyssa snarled.

She wiped out her prints then went back to place them where she needed then took her boots off, leaving prints in socked feet and barefoot. Finally she set the triggers and approached the encampment. Slowly and carefully, she circled the camp. Finally she saw a hut with a cage like door and two guards. She used the binoculars to look inside. Just enough light filtered in to count occupants.

"Seven." Lyssa whispered to herself. "Four Brits and three Americans. Now where could our snake in the grass be?"

The eighth member was not in the hooch. This was not good. Suddenly a commotion came from the road access. She swung the binoculars around and looked. A open-top Range Rover was being waved in. The sight of the occupant made her snarl.

"Wondered when you'd get around to showing up, Franco." Lyssa hissed.

She tracked him visually to a large hooch off the ground, with a porch the width of the face of the structure. Lyssa remained perfectly still when the doorway filled with the form of Endigawa Bohbi. Lyssa slowly breathed. He was on-site. This was the best news she could hope to get. However, now was not the time to dwell on circumstance. It was time to move. Move she did.

Lyssa cut the bindings of the crude fence close to the holding-hooch. She slithered through the gap and made it very obvious, going in and out several times. Then she circled around the Holding-Hooch then found one that had only two men sleeping in it. There was bedding inside for only the two. Silent as a shadow, Lyssa crept inside. She pressed her fingers lightly to the side of the closer man's neck then more firmly. A minute later his eyes flared and he tried to move, but it was no good. Her grip was unshakable and he was essentially making his last effort. His brain, deprived of blood for too long as it was, wasn't able to clearly force his body to react. He slumped and stopped shaking. The whole event sounded no more than a restless sleeper seeking a comfortable position. The second man went in the same manner. A quick search of their pockets produced a bag of tobacco and stained rolling papers. Another pocket yielded a box of matches.

"Clear." Lyssa whispered to herself then concealed the bodies under the crude cots.

Next she skulked to the far side of the camp. A quick stop allowed the procurement of a glass bottle and another pause gave the chance to fill it with gasoline. Slowly Lyssa poured a line of the fuel around the base of the hooch. Though Lyssa never took up the habit of smoking, she was able to roughly roll a cigarette. She lit it and tucked it into the box of matches then lodged it to the wall where the gasoline was. The timer was now set. She had four minutes. Lyssa knew how to make each one count.

Lyssa ran to the Holding-Hooch. A kick to the head snapped the neck of the first and landing with follow through chop to the throat smashed the other's larynx. Before he could even raise hiss rifle, Lyssa was behind him and savagely twisted and bend his head backwards to break his vertebrae and use the pieces to slash the spinal cord. They were down, without alerting anyone. Lyssa didn't bother with looking for keys, she was able to pop the wire holding the bars of the cage door together.

"Qui êtes vous?" A female voice asked in a British accent.

Lyssa whispered back in French. "I'm here to help. Stay silent and follow me. Drag that mat behind the last person."

They filed out, a man held a sleeping mat of grass and dragged it behind them. They were puzzled when their leader directed them to away from the edge of camp, further inside it. Inside another hut, she had them climb up into the ceiling supports and looked up.

"No matter what you hear or see, stay where you are. No movement, no sound. Nothing. Become the roof, the air." Lyssa ordered in French again then all but flew from the hut.

Lyssa focused her thoughts on herself then felt the surge. Two deep breaths was all the time she needed. She felt her body catch fire within and ran. She ran towards the few vehicles there. Three stood nearby; they were supposed to be guarding, but under the impression nobody would ever be an actual threat. That mentality was their undoing. She launched herself at the farthest one, driving her fist deep at the crest of his solarplexus, eliciting a snap. The first was silenced and now slowly dying. Lyssa spun, dipping her upper-body low, braced with her right hand to launch her left leg up and spinning around to connect under the man on the right's jaw. He flew back instantly from the exchange of sheer momentum. She let the energy continue to bring her around and launch into a back wheel-kick that shattered the last man's jaw. Finally the Marauder filled her right fist and was thrust into his neck at a downward angle. The blood from his jugular was directed down his windpipe to fill his lungs. Pain and fear froze him in place as the stream of blood silenced and drowned him.

Lyssa grabbed the first man and heaved him into the driver's set of the Range Rover. His boot laces were used to hold his hands to the wheel. The second man, rendered unconscious was set in the passenger seat, holding a grenade from his belt behind his butt after the pin was pulled. Suddenly raised voices could be heard. Time had run out. Lyssa started the engine, shifted into gear and forced the driver's leg down to floor the accelerator then dove away. The Range Rover of dead men roared away toward the entry. The four sentries dove out of its way just in time then began shooting at it in anger.

Shouting could now be heard, splitting attention. Lyssa moved quickly through the shadows of the hut and hooches, back toward the shack. Endigawa Bohbi came out, buttoning his pants, followed by Franco. Some men were pointing at Franco then the gate, others were pointing toward a brightening light and shouting louder.

"Go after them!" Bohbi ordered Franco then waved to his men. "COME!"

Groups of men peeled to follow one or the other. Franco jumped into a jeep, followed by three men and another six loaded into a truck. Bohbi led his group of men towards a fire that was now growing beyond just one hut. Three others had caught fire as well.

"Thank you." Lyssa muttered and took position below a window.

She reached into her pack and took of the snake-bag and slapped it twice. The Mamba inside became extremely angry, striking at the bag and hissing. Lyssa eased up and peered inside. Her target sat naked on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette. Lyssa eased up and inside then untied the bag. She held the looped over opening and bottom of the bag. Four silent steps forward and laid the bag on the opposite edge of the bed then released the looped top. A light tap was all it took. The enraged viper lunged out and focused on the only living thing presented. Lyssa withdrew two steps as the Mamba streaked forward and stuck.

Jahmira felt something hit her back hard then a sharp pain, followed by two more and turned around in shock. Her world instantly fell apart to see what occupied the bed with her. The grey snake was the one thing she had never hoped to encounter.

"MAMBA!" Jahmira gasped, not wanting to scream and agitate it even more.

Still angry, the serpent reared and flared its mock-hood then lunged again. The Iranian was frozen in horror and felt its fangs sink into her thigh this time. Her right inner thigh. One of the fangs penetrated deep enough to hit saphenous vein. The great saphenous vein. Venom was now racing to her heart. Jahmira knew more than one thing for certain. First; venom of the Black Mamba was a neurotoxin. It attack nerves first and she was already feeling the tell-tale tingling sensation at her back. Secondly; Mamba bites were the deadliest in Africa when untreated. Thirdly, and most critically; the only anti-venin for Mamba bites was at least two hundred kilometers away. Not even half an hour before she succumbed to the venom. A painful half hour at that.

Jahmira picked up a pistol from the table and checked the load. A round sat in the chamber, ready. The safety was disengaged and hammer thumbed back. She turned the muzzle upward under her chin and closed her eyes.

"I accept your judgement for my sins, Allah." Jahmira whispered and pulled the trigger.

Lyssa heard the report of a pistol, but moved at full speed unconcerned. She focused on the threats in front of her, attacking from behind. The main objective; remove as many as possible, before they understood the enemy was still among them. Stealth was just as critical as speed. Grab the target, neutralize the target, discard the target. Closing in of the fires, she had taken out sixty of the guerrillas. Now she was at the edge of their cluster. To continue on, she would be exposed. Time to let them know the enemy was there. Lyssa pulled two grenades from a body then freed them of the safety pins.

A yell went out, drawing the men's attention. Several began to move in the direction of the shout. That was when an explosion went off within a group, followed by another behind them. A rifle began to fire and several dropped in screams. Others saw where the auto-fire had come from and turned their own rifles and returned the fire.

Endigawa Bohbi didn't understand, why were his own men now shooting at each other. Also, it sounded like someone had called out about the prisoners.

"STOP! STOP SHOOTING YOU FOOLS!" Bohbi bellowed then fired his pistol into the air, trying to get their attention.

Lyssa found four more grenades and pitched them in both directions after pulling the pins. As they detonated, she used another rifle to restart the crossfire then emptied the last rounds towards Bohbi. That enraged him and he returned fire in the direction, making the men fire at him. The encampment was in total chaos now. No one cared who was friend or foe, it was every man for himself. One man began to call out to assume some type of authority, only to find himself riddled with bullets. Suddenly grenades went off over their heads three times in succession, followed by numerous screams.

Bohbi saw his Captain fall under a hail of fire then grenades over the heads of the group by the burning huts. Again he yelled to regain command only to find himself under fire.

"STOP SHOOTING YOU FOOLS! YOU ARE KILLING EACH OTHER!" Bohbi yelled again.

Several finally heard and stopped shooting, raising their rifles in compliance. Others saw this and reciprocated.

"THE GUARDS ARE DEAD! PRISONERS ARE GONE!"

Bohbi heard and commanded. "WE HAVE BEEN TRICKED! FIND THE PRISONERS! NOW!"

Lyssa had already withdrawn after the grenades, circled around toward the holding-hooch and let loose with a full magazine of an AK-47, tossed it into a hut and hid in another. The guerrillas went for her bait and rushed in the direction of the hostile fire. She had been a single focus thought, among a whole bunch of misguided intentions. A conductor, giving snippets of conflicting musical pieces to separate sections of scattered orchestras. War was mayhem, but it could be directed. To do so required understanding. Multi-dimensional thinking and action. Most combatants fought only on two dimensions, like pieces on a game-board. They moved forward, pulled back or went laterally from side to side. Advance, retreat and flanking. Archaic battle tactics and strategies. Two-dimensional thinking. Even Special Forces were guilty of it periodically. C.A.G., Combat Applications Group, made efforts to break that habit. DemonWraiths always fought in multiple-dimensions.

Lyssa watched them hit the fence, discovering the opening immediately and forced their way through. They saw the trail and charged down it, yelling in anger. Lyssa went back to the dead and retrieved grenades and rifles. At the mouth of the trail she set up the grenades with trip-lines. Rifles were mounted to tree trunks, branches and also rigged with tripwires to weights. Finally she collected canteens and filled them then went to the freed prisoners.

"Come down. We have to hurry." Lyssa ordered them in French.

At the entry, they watched her mount four rifles, pointing inward and out, rigged with a tripwire and weights then followed her out. Despite all the close-quarter kills, Lyssa had only bloodied her hands. Easy to rinse off with water before they left, Lyssa was clean. Most wouldn't have bothered, but running around in the bush smelling of blood was incredibly stupid. Every creature knew the scent. Insect, animal and human would pick up the scent of blood and follow it to the source. Contain blood within body cavities or let it soak into the ground if you must, but keep it away from yourself at all costs.

"We won't stay on the road long, so don't slow down." Lyssa said to them, staying with French.

One of the women asked in American-accented French. "One of us is not here. We have to go back for her."

Lyssa replied. "The Iranian is dead. She was not your friend."

The road went East. The booby-trapped trail went North. After almost two hundred yards, she led the group off the road and sanitized their passing. They were now heading south. She showed one of the men how to clean the tracks in a non-obvious manner then took point. When they heard explosions and rifle fire, Lyssa urged them on.

"Bohbi and his men returned to the camp. Being a proper hostess; I ensured an appropriate welcome." Lyssa snarled.

A quietly as she could make them, Lyssa led them on. She guided them deep into the bush, avoiding worn trails. Every ten minutes, map and compass were consulted to maintain direction. South, always South. She had come in from the West, laying false trails North and East. After two hours of steady walking, she let them take a few minutes of rest.

"Excuse me." A Female British doctor said to Lyssa in French.

Lyssa nodded to her.

The doctor went on. "We hired a local man. Do you know what happened to him?"

"Franco. He works for Bohbi. You were set up from the start." Lyssa answered then turned at the sound of distant rifle fire. "And now he has been set up."

"I cannot believe this." An American man said then at her look of confusion, repeated in French.

Lyssa nodded and replied in French. "You are a fool, this is why you feel like one now. There was a movie with your Chuck Norris. He is searching for Ninja, his brother was teaching the ways. A money-man tells him; My friend, a word of advice. Before you go to save the world; the world, it does not want to be saved."

"You mock us?" A British man asked in French, affronted.

Lyssa looked back in disgust. "This place is called the Blood Fields for a reason. Mock you? No. You are stupid, no? Come here, easy to trick and get in trouble so bad your governments will not help, despite being their children."

"You don't work for the United States?" An American woman asked in French.

Lyssa chuckled. "I do not. Your families hired me. You are worth ten million in gold bars to me. I will take you to safety. Yes, I will. I will earn my pay for your lives you care nothing about. Make no mistake, I will drag your bodies to the pick up and if you do not survive the trip home, will not matter. I only have to get you to the place they can meet you. They get you, I get my gold. THEN you may die if you wish. If you insist on dying before that, I will give you enough pain to change your mind."

One of the American men glared at her and said in French. "So that's all we are. Money."

"A good man will want to do something helpful. A noble man will try. A helpful man will do his best to help those in need. A smart man will do so where it will have success." Lyssa said in French, to the group, then turned back to him. "But it will be the WISE man; who will do something helpful, for those in need, where it will do the most good and NOT cause trouble for anyone. Including himself. This does not describe any of you, yes?"

He continued to glare at the woman in camouflage fatigues and face concealed with swirls of jungle colors.

Lyssa shook her head. "You believe having good intentions protect you? No. You think having an important parent does? No. You are all stupid. This is Africa. You can be a victim just like everyone else who lives and breathes. The fact you cannot defend yourself, makes it easier. The fact you won't even try, makes you stupid. Count your blessings, fools, Mistress Fortune does not favor you. That is why your families are paying me. Because you are unfortunate and fools. This talk and rest is over. Move your bodies, before Bohbi comes to collect them again."

They all got up and began to follow the harsh woman. Each began to think in-depth on her words.

---

 
Chapter 3

Endigawa Bohbi was beyond confused. Who had attacked his camp? How had they entered the camp undetected, freed the captive doctors, attacked and escaped without suffering a single loss? There was also the death of the Iranian woman. She committed suicide, yes, but it seemed that she did so in response to being bitten by a Mamba. One of his men had been bitten as well. When checking her, the snake came from under the bed and struck his leg. He begged for a mercy shot and received it. The worst had been when Franco returned. It seemed the gate had been booby-trapped as well. Rifles fired in both directions at the same time, three men had died and one vehicle disabled. Franco himself had been wounded in the right shoulder.

"WHO DID ALL OF THIS?" Endigawa demanded of no one in particular.

A sergeant asked. "How could such a large force go unnoticed? There must be at least a hundred of them!"

"Silence! I don't care how many! They must be found and slaughtered! I want those prisoners back! NOW!" Endigawa demanded.

"Sir!" A lieutenant walked up.

Endigawa rounded on the man. "WHAT?"

"I have finished confirming the counts. Colonel, One hundred and sixteen men are dead. Another twenty-six will not last the day. Fifty-one are seriously wounded. In all, Three hundred and twelve are still able to fight." The lieutenant listed.

Endigawa was enraged. "Only three hundred and twelve? I had over five hundred!"

The lieutenant hesitated a moment then said. "There are men...unaccounted for. I do not know if they are captured, dead or wounded and were hidden or they have run away in fear."

The sound of a grenade going off drew their attention.

"The men are still finding traps, the hard way. Whoever attacked us, Colonel, they are very good." The lieutenant commented.

Endigawa Bohbi didn't like what was being said. "The prisoners! Where are they?"

"I do not know, Sir. We do not know when they were taken or which direction they went. We still do not know how many attacked us. We think they came from the West. The trail to the North was booby-trapped." The lieutenant reported, only to be interrupted.

"I know it was, fool!" Endigawa said angrily.

The lieutenant tried to keep calm. "Any tracks by the attackers stopped within the length of trapped trail. We could not find any other tracks leading away that were not our own."

Endigawa Bohbi stomped to his shack and grabbed Franco by the throat. "WHO DID THIS?"

Franco choked out. "I don't know! I only saw a woman! Just one woman! She spoke French with no foreign accent! She spoke English with no accent at all! She never said her name or who sent her!"

Endigawa froze, staring at the man as if he was insane. "ONE WOMAN? NO WOMAN COULD EVER DO ANY OF THIS! YOU THINK I AM A FOOL? WHERE HAVE THEY GONE?"

"I don't know! She told me nothing of her plan! Nothing of anyone! She only asked where they were and how many men you have! Nothing else!" Franco protested.

Endigawa shoved him away. "She knew you were not to be trusted! I must have those prisoners back!"

No one within his shouting-range had any suggestions to offer. He stormed around the camp until almost noon then called his remaining men.

Endigawa glared in disgust at his assembled force. "Follow me!"

At the entry he formed his men into a single-file line down the middle of the road, facing North. The men were an arm's length from each other, touching the shoulder of man on their left.

"Circle the camp! Look for tracks we can follow." Endigawa ordered.

The skirmish line moved off the road, encircling the camp. When they returned to the road, the line was shifted further down the road. It took ten circuits to find a small sign of trail movement. A small tuft of brush, bent to lean in outbound direction of the trail.

"COLONEL!! COLONEL!" A boy looking no older than fifteen called out, pointing to the ground in excitement.

"What? What is it? What are you doing?" Endigawa demanded of the boy down on all-fours.

The boy looked up. "I saw plants pushed down, going that way. I found this, now."

Endigawa crouched down and looked where he pointed. A shoe print. A small western shoe print. He laid his hand next to it.

"GOOD! This is a woman's print!" Endigawa announced and stood up. "Follow that, boy, and when you find them; you may have the woman it belongs to for two nights!"

The boy sprang to his feet. "Two night? I can have her, not just look? I can have her?"

"As many times as you can!" Endigawa smiled lewdly. "Any way you want. For TWO nights! Go! Lead us to them!"

The teen moved forward as the rest stood to the side. He went forward, carefully scanning the ground to find another sign twenty feet ahead. The column of men fell in behind their leader, walking casually behind his new scout. The promise of sex with a woman focused his searching. He worked carefully. Not just because of the promised reward, but he had already guessed that should he lose the track, Bohbi would either order him raped or killed, if not both. He had suffered more than one rape when he had been taken from his people four years before and did not wish to repeat it.

The lieutenant walked closer to Bohbi and commented. "Colonel, they try very hard to clean the trail without looking like it. The only tracks are of the prisoners."

"I can see that myself!" Bohbi snarled.

"Franco may have been telling the truth, about just one woman. She must be a mercenary, hired to rescue them." The lieutenant suggested.

Bohbi grabbed his lieutenant by the shirt. "A woman mercenary? Are you insane? Even if there was one, coming here is suicide for them. Who would be so stupid to hire a woman to come here?"

"That may be it Colonel. They are so desperate to hire an insane woman. She works with other mercenaries. They attack us, she rescued the prisoners. One person could not have done all that happened and take the prisoners away." He stated then said quietly. "We could be following a false trail. Make him go further ahead, in case it is more traps."

Endigawa Bohbi wanted to both laugh and scream at the man for such thoughts, but thought first. Yes, the attack on his camp and the traps they encountered were very effective. Professional. The work of experienced soldiers, trained for just such warfare. They were not the kind to take lightly. This angered him even more. He was familiar with most of the mercenaries brave enough to enter the country. No one he knew did these things. It reminded him of his set back over ten years ago. He had lost almost all of the army he had been preparing for a coup. Only the small contingent he had taken to the capital for scouting survived. He refused to let that happen again.

 

~o~O~o~
 

Lyssa marched the group steadily through the day, allowing only two one hour breaks. She had to find edible plants as there had been no time to gather any food, though she doubted there had been any prepared rations. That had been confirmed by comments from the group. They had been given scraps left over from the camp food. What supplies they had brought, were taken by Bohbi himself. Fortunately, most plants can be eaten raw. Water was another story. Filtering wasn't a problem, but the tablets were. She had brought sixty of the tablets, but to treat the water required time. Half an hour per liter. Lingering around water sources could lead to discovery. As the sun was setting she had to stop them again. It took almost twenty minutes to find the right plants then grind them up and mix with clean water to make the repellent spray.

As night fell, she urged them on.

"Please. We are so tired. Can't we stop?" A British woman begged.

Lyssa shook her head. "We cannot. Any relief we give is a gift for them. Every moment bought by the confusion of last night, has been eaten by them now. They must hurry to make up our lead since finding the actual trail."

"They found us? How?" The lead American man asked.

Lyssa answered. "They found it by looking. They would not give you away so easily. Any sign, no matter how small, is still a sign and they searched for it. They have anger fueling them. They will not stop until their hands are around our throats. We must keep moving. Time is not our friend. Nothing here is."

Anthony Maven shook his head and muttered in English to himself. "Woman is a damn slave-driver."

"At least we know she doesn't intend to rape us." The American woman behind him said.

The British woman sighed. "No Rachel, she is just selling us back to our families."

"Should we really trust her though, Nicola?" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, Nicola. We are going South. Tomorrow night or the next, maybe, we will cross the border into Ivory coast. Colonel Bohbi won't chase us very far there. They hate him there. She obviously knows this, or we wouldn't be going this way. She would have tried going back to the capital for an airport. Bohbi would be able to catch us there." A British man behind them said.

Nicola looked back. "But she just left Jazmina there Raymond."

"Not Jazmina. Jazmina was a fake." Anthony corrected.

Rachel interrupted. "How can we be sure?"

"Be quiet. I don't care what you are all talking about, but do it quietly or not at all. Everything is louder at night." Lyssa told them in French. "We are not the only things here."

That made them stop talking. The jungle did contain all manner of creatures that would attack, attracted by their noise.

Raymond moved up close to keep his voice low. "Jazmina, or whatever her name was, was very friendly with Franco. Franco handed us over to Bohbi and she never said anything in protest. I always thought there was something wrong about her."

Suddenly they realized that the woman leading them had slowed down, almost waiting between each step forward.

"What is it?" Anthony asked in French.

Lyssa looked back and replied in French. "River."

Rachel asked in French. "A river? Which one?"

"One that does not help." Lyssa replied in French. "Well, it does not help as much as we would like."

Raymond understood immediately and said to the others. "It won't take us to safety."

When Lyssa looked at him blankly, Anthony said in French. "It won't get us out of here, right?"

"Yes. It is only an obstacle. We can use the water for drinking, but the river is not escape. It will take us away from safety." Lyssa explained.

Nicola looked defeated. "What will we do?"

Lyssa ignored her and began instructing them in French. "We must gather things. This is time we spend to earn more."

The group listened then searched around to find downed branches and logs while Lyssa herself gathered some vines. They piled everything up on the trail until Lyssa told them to stop. They watched as she went around and wiped away all signs of their wandering. What she said next, made their brains turn to mush.

"You men spread out along the trail. Good. Now relieve yourselves." Lyssa instructed in French then added. "Not all on the ground. Do so on the plants. Girls, over here. Crouch down behind this bush and relieve yourselves. Try to stay on the leaves and not the dirt."

"Why?" Rachel asked in French as Nicola did her business.

Lyssa answered in French. "In the dirt is bad. It will soak in and the smell will not be so strong. The smell needs to be strong and last as much as possible."

Raymond was zipping his pants back up and asked in French. "Won't that get attention?"

"That is my plan. I want to get Bohbi's attention. I want him to go to the river." Lyssa explained in French.

When they finished marking the area, they collected up everything gathered and went on toward the river. Fifteen minutes later, they stood on the bank, looking at the slow moving water. Under her instructions, a crude raft was made. Canteens were refilled then they boarded the raft and crossed the river, moved upstream then released the raft, guiding it out into the middle of the river. It took only a few minutes for it to drift out of sight. Lyssa had chosen a spot with a good amount of gravel, to hide coming out of the river.

"This will be difficult for some time. We must stay in the bush, not trails. When Bohbi realizes we have fooled him again, he will be very angry. Like you say; time is money. If we invest it wisely, we will earn more." Lyssa explained then led them deep into rough bush, heading southwest now.

As the sun rose, it was Raymond who scrutinized its angle.

"Southwest, I think." Raymond muttered quietly then stopped as whispered loudly. "Komoe!"

"Komoe?" Anthony repeated.

Raymond nodded and kept his voice low. "The Komoe river. She is taking us there, it goes to Ivory Coast directly. That is how she plans to get us all out!"

"I heard you say Komoe." Lyssa said in French. "Do you know it?"

Rachel answered in French. "Ray says it goes south. To Ivory Coast. Yes?"

"Clever. You understand my plan now. Tonight, if we are lucky. I think tomorrow is more likely." Lyssa replied in French.

That news bolstered their confidence. In silence they followed her on. Twice they stopped to refill water from streams and eat some wild plants Lyssa found for them. Eight people required a lot of food. Just after dawn, Lyssa stopped them on the bank of a large river.

"Komoe." Lyssa informed them in French. "One of only two rivers that are all year long. Others dry up after the wet season. We are at the end of it. This river is always running. We cannot stop here though. We go down."

The group followed her for three more hours until she stopped. A cigarette-class boat sat in the river, a man fishing off the transom.

"ALLO!" Lyssa called out. "PAR ICI!"

The man put away his fishing rod, started the boat and motored to the bank.

"I thought you would be here last night." The boatman said in French then handed down a satellite phone.

Lyssa dialed a number and said in French when the call was answered. "A deal is a deal. I brought them all."

Anthony was surprised when the phone was handed to him. "Hello?"

"Tony! Oh thank God!"

"Dad?" Anthony said in surprise.

The whole group gawked in shock.

The Senator demanded harshly. "You, and your friends, get your asses ON THAT BOAT, NOW!"

"Dad.." Anthony started but was immediately cut off.

"I SAID; GET ON THE GODDAMNED BOAT YOU IDIOTIC, UNGRATEFUL ASS! You all have NO idea what we've had to do to make this happen. Get on the boat or you will be knocked out, hogtied and loaded on the boat!" The Senator swore.

Lyssa snarled as she snatched the phone away. "Sur le bâteau! Maintenant!"

"All of you. They are demanding you get ON the boat now. Do as they say." The boatman said in American-English then turned to Lyssa and said in French. "I hear Bohbi is heading this way. I have a bag for you. Do you want it, or are you coming?"

Lyssa nodded and replied in French. "Give me the bag, water and something eat. Get them out of here. I'll keep the phone."

He nodded and replied in French. "Okay."

Lyssa stepped away and talked on the phone.

Rachel looked up. "Who are you?"

The boatman reached down and pulled her up. "Malcolm Tombs, adventurer-extraordinaire and your route to freedom. Provided you quit standing around looking like a bunch of jack-asses. You've done enough stupid for a life-time, get on the fucking boat. We gotta get outta here, yesterday."

One of the British doctors asked. "What about her?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Her job was to get you here. Seems like she isn't done though. I owe a favor and this is me paying it off. I take you down river to the ocean. From there, the U.S. Navy picks you up and you all go home."

Lyssa was out of the group's earshot, speaking on the phone in English. "I got them to Tombs. I'll settle the Bohbi problem. They were told you paid me ten million in gold bullion."

"Very well. We will maintain the cover story. Do you require anything more?" Sir Thomas asked.

Lyssa answered. "Yes. Forget my existence. This is it."

"Agreed. Best of luck." The Senator said.

Lyssa disconnected and walked back over to the boat. A moment later Malcolm hefted over a large dry bag, three gallon jugs of water and a bag of MREs.

"Merci." Lyssa said.

Malcolm nodded. "Bon chance Mam'selle. Kill that fuck."

Lyssa replied in French accented English. "Stay out of trouble."

Malcolm reversed his engine and carefully backed away from the bank then turned down river and powered away. He wanted to laugh, only he had caught that she'd understood and spoken English. It didn't matter. He still didn't know her name or anything else, other than where and when to meet them. A glance back and she was already gone, disappeared back into the jungle.

---

 
Chapter 4

Endigawa Bohbi was marching his men as if he had a whip at the backs. The boy that had been scouting ahead, lost their track at the river. He had been so excited when he found the places where they had urinated. He all but ran them down to the river. Of course, the drag marks of the raft sent them down river until they found the raft lodged between rocks. For three hours they searched both banks and found nothing. For losing the trail of the western doctors, he was drowned in the river while being raped by Endigawa himself. After that, they split to search the banks going up-river. By morning, they found the subtle signs in the bush and began tracking again.

"I want this devil-woman and those damned doctors! Do not stop!" Endigawa ordered his men.

The track through the bush opened up to a game trail and the scout called back. "Here! Here! I see a print from boots!"

"GO! RUN THEM DOWN!" Endigawa yelled.

The guerrilla force ran down the trail. The boot prints were becoming easier to find and keep on the trail. As the sun rose, they felt as if they could be on top of them any moment. Then the unthinkable happened. The scout fell into a shallow hole and began screaming in pain. The hole was only knee-deep but half the man's length. It had many sharpened sticks pointing up, impaling him.

Endigwa Bohbi pulled his pistol and shot the man three times to stop his screaming then swore. "DAMN THEM! THEY HAVE ENOUGH TIME FOR THESE TRICKS?"

Suddenly several explosions went off on both sides of the trail. Endigawa felt things speed past him as his men were shredded and dove behind a nearby tree. Smaller explosions went off then, obviously grenades. Auto-fire from a rifle followed, those not shredded from the first explosions or the grenades, went down under the hail of bullets. The fire would stop and resume several times, for reloading. Finally everything stopped and the only sounds to be heard were slight moans from the mortally wounded occupied with their impending death.

Bohbi peered around the tree he was hiding behind. They had literally run into the perfect ambush. He seemed to be the only one still able to move. Move is exactly what he did. Endigawa Bohbi had never crawled upon the ground since childhood, but he did so now. He crawled until his hands were scratched and bleeding from the underbrush. When he believed himself clear of the killing zone, he scrambled to his feet and began running.

Lyssa hurried to set up her ambush. It had to be ready before sunset at the latest. She had grenades and claymores in the bag, along with a CAR-15 and twenty thirty-round magazines already loaded. The toll of the past six days was catching up with her as she finally sat back to watch the trail and eat an MRE. When the scout trotted past her position, she crept behind a three foot curved wall of thick sticks. Three hours of frantic work was about to come to fruition. A man's screams were silence with three pistol shots followed by shouting. Lyssa focused her thoughts and concentrated hard. Soon she felt it. The surging of the hormone again. Lyssa was going up past her own redline more than she'd ever been before.

"Thanks for playing." Lyssa whispered and tapped a cluster of wire ends to a six-volt battery.

The claymores taped to tree trunks went off on both sides of the trail. A fast as she could, Lyssa pulled the pins and threw grenades into the clusters of men looking for an enemy to fight. A few began to swing towards her direction and met with incoming auto-fire from the CAR-15's 5.56mm rounds. When the last magazine ran dry, she bolted out and rushed the skirmish line, knife in hand. New screams of terror and pain ensued. Lyssa was a horrifying sight, lightening fast moves and accuracy that wasn't slowing down. A dying man would serve as shield against incoming rounds until she reached the gunners. Kicks, punches and slashes from the knife. Somewhere along the way, the knife became lodged in a skull and had to be left behind. It was all hand-to-hand now.

When the last man fell; Lyssa went back and retreived the Fairbarne-Sikes knife and looked over each face, searching for the most important one. One of the guerrillas had been carrying an old M-16. She checked him for loaded magazines and found two. After a few minutes she heard movement then saw Endigawa Bohbi crawling as fast as he could down the opposite side of the trail. She picked up her discarded rifle, reloaded and pocketed the other magazine and moved to follow.

Bohbi ran for his life as soon as he got to his feet, almost tripping over himself. He knew that if he wanted his life, he would have to escape. He barely made a hundred meters when he heard the rifle open up again and fell face first to the dirt, his knees mangled. Endigawa rolled over and felt several bullets tear through his shoulder as well. The renegade Colonel looked up and saw a woman wearing old camouflage pointing a rifle at him. Her face swirled with combat paints.

"I know you speak English Bohbi." Lyssa said flatly, setting the rifle down then walking closer.

Bohbi looked at her with intense burning hatred. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"I missed you twelve years ago. I didn't this time." Lyssa said, pulling the Fairbarne-Sikes knife. "Past the gates, before the throne. I've been to Hell, Colonel Endigawa Bohbi. I send you now."

Bohbi's scream reverberated long and loud in the jungle. Lyssa went back to her hide to retrieve the bag then headed back to the Komoe River. One more aspect to deal with.

 

~o~O~o~
 

Franco Jeanvier poured the vodka into a glass and gulped most of it down. There was no word from Bohbi and none of the doctors had been seen at the airport. He hadn't slept for more than two hours during the day for the past six days. The sun would be up in an hour Just in case, he had brought in some local men to guard his house. He'd paid for forty and had to arm all of them.

"I put my life in the hands of idiots." Franco said to himself then looked out the window. "Where are they?"

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor made him whirl around and see the form of a woman in camoflage step over a body.

"Five hundred and thirty-eight. No, I didn't forget about you." Lyssa said in English, standing in the doorway.

Franco backed away and shook his head. "Bohbi!! It was all Bohbi!"

"Not happening. I know you're dirty as all shit. I'll deal with you now." Lyssa said softly then moved.

Franco couldn't believe his eyes. The woman had stood over twenty feet away then right in front of him. He hadn't even blinked and she was there, holding a knife buried to the hilt in his chest.

Lyssa's voice was only a whisper and her eyes were unfocused, with a far away cast to them. "Your killer woke before dawn. I already had my boots on. Five hundred, thirty-nine. Mission; accomplished."

Franco leaned then fell over, his eyes wide in disbelief were glazing over as Lyssa turned away, stumbled and caught herself.

"You don't mind if I clean up here, do you? I need all the cold water you have, before I catch my flight in two hours." Lyssa said without humor as her left hand twitched.

---

 
Chapter 5

No one paid much attention to the blonde woman walking through the airport terminal in Marrakesh, Morocco. She collected the pre-paid ticket at the counter for Barcelona, Spain. From Spain to Atlanta, Georgia via New York. In Atlanta she picked up another ticket to Grand Bahama International Airport; Freeport, Bahamas. Rodrick met her at the terminal.

"Oh christ." Rodrick said, looking at her face. "Can you even see?"

Lyssa's voice was hollow. "Home. Get me home."

Rodrick waited until they were away from the doors then scooped up his wife and carried her over to the helicopter pad. Lyssa was almost dead-weight as he set her in the co-pilot's seat.

"I'm hurrying, baby, I'm hurrying." Rodrick choked out as he started the engines of the Bell.

As fast as he could, Rodrick lifted off. He was hovering and turning to vector as permission to take off was given. He red-lined the helicopter's throttle to reach the island. Halfway there, she started to shake.

"Ram Air, cleared to land." Lonestar called out as the island came into sight in the darkness.

"Copy!" Rodrick called back then looked over. "Baby? How you doing?"

Lyssa was slack in the harness. "Threshold. I'm...."

Contrary to all safety procedures, Rodrick cut the engines and bolted out as soon as the wheels touched the tarmac in front of the main hangar. He yanked the opposite door open and slapped the harness buckle to release Lyssa. Lonestar came up and helped drag her out. Together they walked her toward the hangar.

"To the house?" Lonestar asked.

Lyssa's voice sounded far away as her eyes rolled back and she spasmed. "Lock-er."

"In the Hangar. Get her in the hangar, Joe." Rodrick ground out through clenched teeth trying to keep Lyssa upright.

Lonestar almost lost his hold and fumbled to catch her. "Jesus! I can feel it through my damned gloves! What the hell is going on, she's burning up!"

Kimberly ran out from the door to the TOC. "Oh my god!"

"Lay her down here." Rodrick ordered. "Kim, grab her kit."

Kimberly yanked open Lyssa's locker and fumbled to drop the hidden compartment. "I'm getting it!"

Kimberly looked inside and took one of the five small cases and ran over.

Rodrick ripped the lid off, pulled the syringe and vial of blue fluid. "Her neck, Kim."

Kimberly wiped Lyssa's neck with an alcohol pad. He pulled the plunger back then inserted the needle through the sealed top, inverted them and forced the plunger down the barrel. Air was forced into the vial, then he withdrew almost the all of the fluid and pulled the needle free as Lyssa began to convulse.

"You don't want to be around in a minute." Rodrick said, carefully pushing the needle into her neck then slowly injected her with the fluid.

He held the needle in, counting to ten, then pulled it out. Lyssa's convulsing became more violent then she went limp and let out a slow breath.

"Oh god. Tell me she didn't...Lyssa didn't..." Kimberly stammered.

Rodrick slumped over. "Please. Get out. The worst is coming. You don't want to be here. You don't want to know."

Lyssa's eyes flew open as she gasped deep then her whole body arched. Lonestar flinched and Kimberly clutched at him as Rodrick buried his face in his hands. The Hangar echoed as Lyssa screamed and started thrashing on the floor. Over and over, Lyssa screamed in agony and writhed on the concrete floor. Several minutes passed, then she quieted slightly and tremored.

"This is horrible." Kimberly choked out through her tears.

Rodrick shook his head. "It's not over. She only had a few minutes left. This is the worst she's ever been. If Whisper hadn't given her the kits, she would have stayed over there to burn up. She can't bring herself back on her own anymore. This is why she's giving up Field-Ops."

Lonestar pulled off his helmet and demanded. "This isn't illness, Mason. You don't pick this up in any goddamned jungle! It isn't even a condition! She's one of them! It's because, she's one of THEM! ISN'T IT? ISN'T IT? They push beyond every limit! They literally BURN themselves out to stay on the edge! THIS! THIS RIGHT HERE! This is the price they pay!"

Rodrick nodded. "Yes."

Lonestar shook his head in disgusted anger.

"She explained it to me, the night she told me her past. She was supposed to have the longest operational lifespan, but since she went to work for Paul, that's not the case. She's had to max-out more times than the rest. Patch ran the test on her while they were here. Whisper brought the kits without telling that asshole, Raines. He could only give her five. She's down to four now. Four times, that all she has left. After that, she stays out of the field or she doesn't come back." Rodrick told him.

Kimberly reached over and grabbed his shoulder. "Paul negotiated a deal. This was the last one. They can't force her anymore. She's done. No more, Rod. She won't have to anymore."

They looked down as Lyssa arched again and screamed. This time it didn't have such an edge to it. Like she was being twisted instead of burned. On and off, the intervals decreasing in frequency and duration until she went limp and slipped into unconsciousness.

"Close up her locker and burn the used kit. Nobody else is to know. NOBODY!" Rodrick instructed then gathered her up.

"Okay. Nobody." Kimberly said then went over to Lyssa's locker, closing the compartment and locking the door.

Lonestar picked up the syringe, vial and case. He used the torch set between the hangars to melt it all into nothing. Kimberly held onto him and sobbed all the way to their cottage. Now they understood why Lyssa never talked about any DemonWraiths retiring. They all went down in the field, never to return home. She would be the first.

Rodrick carried Lyssa into their house and headed for the stairs. Krystel was sitting on the couch.

"The twins are still asleep. Warlock is in their room. Can I do anything?" Krystel asked.

"Thank you, no. Lock up on your way out, please. Lyssa's going to be down a while." Rodrick said.

Krystel turned out the lamp and locked the door before closing it. It was odd for Lyssa and Rodrick to lock up.

 

~o~O~o~
 

Lyssa slowly opened her eyes.

"Welcome back." A familiar voice said.

Lyssa slowly looked over and mumbled. "Fuck. I did die and go to Hell."

"Not this time. It was close though." Whisper replied.

"Nice to see you back." Another voice said.

Lyssa looked and saw Patch come in. "How many of you?"

Patch started taking her vitals. "Just myself, Whisper and Quest. You've been down for three days."

Whisper held a cup of water with a straw for her and Lyssa drank.

"You really cut it close. Rodrick told us what happened." Whisper said.

Lyssa sighed. "How'd you get here?"

"Colonel Lando picked us up at Eglin. That's where we're supposed to be right now." Whisper replied.

Patch made notes in a file and shook his head. "I have to make it official. You're done. I'm invoking Medical Authority, Operational Status is revoked for you."

Lyssa watched as he opened up a case. The DemonWraith doctor took out a syringe and loaded it with a clear liquid from a vial. "Turn over."

Lyssa rolled over and felt him feel the back of her head then the prick of the needle. Her scalp went numb then felt pressure and smelled blood then something pulled off her skull. Lyssa could tell her skin was being sew together then cleaned.

"Turn back over." Patch instructed.

Lyssa rolled over and held her head off the pillow as a towel was placed over it. She saw the bloody five inch long strip cleaned in alcohol and placed into a box. Patch took out three more syringes and load them with different fluids.

"Arm." Patch instructed then found her vein and injected the first syringe.

"Thigh." Patch said pulling the bedding back.

He felt along the inside of her right thigh then inserted a long needle and injected her.

Patch picked up the third syringe. "Turn your head."

Lyssa turned her head away and felt the needle go in and press against the fourth cervical vertebrae then fluid flow in. She hissed in discomfort.

"Complete. Tracer removed. Bio-stabilizers induced. Two more days of bed rest. A week; light duty." Patch said, putting his instruments away. "Do I need to sedate you?"

Lyssa said softly. "No."

Patch looked to Whisper, who shook his head.

"So I'm not deployable anymore." Lyssa said, staring out the window.

Whisper reached over and took her hand. "This isn't like before. You're not being thrown away. If you go, you'll go down in the field. Nobody wants that for you. You proved them all wrong. You proved you still had value and earned more. You proved everything you believed in. No more arguments, save one. My argument."

Patch walked out of the room.

"I did a horrible thing to you. I did a cruel thing, to you. I have no excuse for it. You wanted to go and I refused to let you. We both know there is no afterlife. You were going into oblivion. I heard you though. You regretted not ever being yourself. I couldn't help. I kept your secret, but never helped. I demanded they release you. Medical out. Yes, it was me, not Raines. I wanted you to have that chance to make a life without that regret. It was the only thing I could think of to help." Whisper admitted.

Lyssa shifted position slightly. "You can't see the damned future."

"Oh, how I wish I could. So many things would have been different for us all. For all the wrongs done against you, you made them right. All, but mine. You could never kill me slow enough, painfully enough, to atone for what I did to you. I denied you death when you wanted it so bad and relieved to be finally going to it. I took it away from you. I am; the most sadistic and evil being you have ever encountered without killing." Whisper pronounced sadly.

A tear rolled down Lyssa's cheek. "Live and suffer, you sanctimonious son of a bitch. I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate what you did to me. I hate you so much, I'll never kill you. Find a way to go down, because I won't do it for you. Forgiveness will never be yours!"

Whisper nodded. "Yes. I know. I understand. What I did, can never be undone. Anything you ask of me, will be done without protest. I will never tell you 'no'."

Whisper stood up and walked to the door and stopped.

Without turning around he looked down. "I can only say; I'm so very sorry, Lane. Please find happiness in this life, as Lyssa, for you are truly beautiful. Just like you wanted to be."

Whisper walked out, leaving Lyssa alone in her bed. Downstairs, Dannigan was sitting on the couch.

"Done?" Dannigan asked.

Whisper sighed. "Yes, Major General."

"Sit." Dannigan ordered then added. "You as well, Colonel Ayers."

Patch joined Whisper on the sofa facing the big Spook.

"Captain, you already know what I'm about to say, but I want you BOTH to understand. When you go back, you will destroy all biologicals for DemonWraith Immortal; Sergeant First Class Kory Lyles, Sergeant First Class Lane Koverton. No RNA, no DNA, no fingerprints, no retinal prints, no blood or tissue samples. All of it. Am I absolutely clear?" Dannigan growled.

"Yes, Sir." Both answered.

Dannigan glared. "There are to be no dirty tricks or attempts at Biological Research. Do I need to get crayons to illustrate?"

"No, Sir." Both replied.

"Dismissed." Dannigan stated.

Both DemonWraiths stood, saluted and walked out. Whisper stopped and came back.

"Something else, Captain?" Dannigan asked

"Sir, right now is an opportunity that may never come again. Speak freely, Sir?" Whisper asked

Dannigan sighed and nodded. "Granted."

Whisper paused a moment then looked at him. "After General Whitacre's death, we secured files for transfer. After Operation: Emerald Inferno. Well, the failure of Operation: Emerald Inferno; Colonel Raines had filed a transfer for Immortal. That transfer was, for a lack of a better word, 'intervened'. Immortal; Kory, Sir, was going on the Zombie roster. Zombie roster is a death sentence; Operational Suicide. Only two people knew. Raines and Whipsnap. Somebody, over General Whitacre's pay-grade, ordered an immediate dog and pony show medical discharge. In truth, Kory was transferred to your Command and the discharge was completely bogus."

Dannigan got up and poured a whiskey. "I didn't hear a question in there."

Whisper sighed. "Transfer to the Zombie roster has never been denied or 'intervened' before. Why this time? How were you able to get her transferred under your command? You never met her. You didn't even know her."

Dannigan pointed to the couch. "Sit down, Captain Falworth."

Whisper was surprised. Until that moment, only four people had known his name. Generals Singleton and Whitacre, Colonel Raines and Colonel Ayers, A.K.A. Patch. He sat down.

"Way back when; three young men went through Officer School and became good friends. Samuel Whitacre, William Koverton and Andrew Polson. Koverton spent ten years in the Rangers then had to take a medical after shattering a leg falling off an escarpment. He had a son and a daughter. The daughter went to medical school, married well, et cetera. The son, on the other hand, didn't do so well. Delinquent, several stints in Juvie. As an adult, drinking problem, a handful of drug charges, Assault and Battery. Piece of shit asshole." Dannigan said looking at the liquor in the glass then sipped.

Whisper nodded. "Sounds like it, Sir."

The Spook nodded. "Well, Nick Koverton did something stupid and incredible. He drunk-fucked a girl five years younger than him that he picked up at the local hangout-parking lot. She got pregnant. She wasn't exactly all sweet and innocent, but not a doorknob either. A literal shotgun wedding took place." Dannigan said then chuckled. "Koverton Senior threatened to blow Junior's head off if he didn't marry her and take care of the kid. Which he did, more or less. Basically; trailer-trash. Not exactly the home environment a kid would thrive in, but William had a very heavy hand in the kid's upbringing until he died during the kid's freshman year at high school."

"Lane Koverton, the Immortal." Whisper surmised.

Dannigan went on. "The two remain friends stayed in contact, Lane was kept under Generals' eyes after enlisting. He turned out to be a fine soldier and flourished. Just after graduating from the Kennedy; Nick and Miranda Koverton died in a car crash. Official report declared it an accident. Unofficially, Nick was still the same asshole and pissed off the wrong guy. The police report had been sanitized for Lane's sake. Flash forward; Whipsnap and Polson never took their eyes off him, especially after DemonWraith selection. Then the worst happened. Emerald Inferno. That fucking disaster!"

Whisper hung his head at the mention of it. It was his greatest regret.

"You weren't even out of the jungle. The moment you confirmed recovery of Kory, alive, Raines was filing the transfer. While you were in transit back, the two Generals met and afterward, I was called to report to Polson. I was briefed and ordered to intervene. Raines was tied up in red-tape while I pulled a snatch and grab." Dannigan explained.

"Sir. Did General Whitacre know? Did he know she became Lyssa?" Whisper asked

Dannigan grinned. "Of course. He and General Polson watched her dance at the Met. They were thrilled and sent bouquets of roses. To be honest, it was how I've been able to keep her alive all this time."

"Thank you, Sir. Now I know why I was given a note to 'respect your privacy'. No more questions, Major General." Whisper stood up, saluted again and left.

Dannigan held up what was left of the drink. "To you, Major Koverton. I kept their promise to you. Your grandchild is safe now, Sir."

---

 
Chapter 6
In the TOC a different discussion was taking place.

"Are you serious?"

Krystel nodded to the main monitor. "That's right Tammy-girl."

"How?" Tammy asked.

Krystel tilted her head. "Didn't Colonel MacTaggart explain it to you?"

"Well, he said that due to certain problems over here, I'm now affiliated with your group. Hopefully that by working with you and your people, all the attention I've been getting will subside. He said I 'acquired attention of negative aspect, due to bureaucratic lack of diligence'. Kerri, what exactly does that mean?" Tammy asked.

Krystel sighed. "That's a very political way of saying that during the screwing of a pooch, you got fucked too and it went beyond recovery."

"So what happens to me now?" Tammy asked.

"Kind of like divorce. Joint custody of the kid. You live there and play nice, but all the paperwork is in our name. The upside, you get more help than before. The downside; MacTaggart deals with you directly and you have to behave yourself more." Krystel explained.

Tammy asked. "So I work for both Broadsword and you?"

Krystel looked thoughtful and answered. "More like, you work for yourself and do side projects for us both, but it's our name on the listing."

"Okay. Do I need to do anything right now?" Tammy asked.

Krystel nodded. "Yes. Get two weeks free and pack lightweight clothing. You're going to visit Freeport, Bahamas, for meetings."

"So, I won't be going to Canada." Tammy remarked.

"You'll get a packet in your email when you send me the dates. It'll be your itinerary. Go through it before you tell anybody anything. Gotta go now. Later Tammy, welcome aboard." Krystel said and signed off.

"Nice girl." Kimberly commented.

Krystel nodded. "Yeah. She got screwed over. MacTaggart tried to help, but she just gets thrown in deeper holes. How's Lyssa?"

"I'm about to go find out. I do know, it isn't good. She's done. No more deployments." Kimberly said then went up.

The Lear took off, Kimberly knew Lonestar was flying the three DemonWraiths back to Eglin. She'd made the call for them to come when Lyssa didn't wake up on the second day. She picked up a package from her desk and walked to Lyssa and Rodrick's house, going straight up to the bedroom.

"Are they gone?" Lyssa asked.

Kimberly nodded. "Yes. I stayed away from Whisper, as you said."

"Good." Lyssa replied then looked over. "Rodrick give them any static about the kits?"

Kimberly shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. "No. Patch told him to give them back and he handed all four over. No argument, no static."

Kimberly opened the box and took out a slim case, opened it and showed the syringe and vial inside. "The lab in Geneva was able to create copies. You have five."

"That's fine. Five is all I need." Lyssa said, inspecting the contents. "You can relax. I only wanted them for emergency use. I'm sorry I scared you, but I had to. My rainy day finally came. Put them in my locker, please."

Kimberly nodded then asked. "What did they do to you?"

"They removed the tracker on my skull and gave me three neurotoxins. The injections shut down my glands. I'm over-producing and super-saturated. The effect is temporary to bring my levels down. They think it'll shut down four of the six glands permanently. It won't. In three days I'll burn it up. Don't tell anybody. I'll tell Rodrick myself."

"So that Whisper wouldn't know. Alright. Here's the last of those GWT papers." Kimberly handed her a clutch of documents.

Lyssa read and handed them back. "So all of that company is back under Maria?"

"Yes. She'll find out tomorrow evening or the next day. Even Mindy's shares were signed over. The Major is waiting downstairs, I'll send him up." Kimberly said and left.

Kimberly passed Dannigan on the stairs. "She's awake."

Dannigan stopped in the doorway. "Is it safe?"

"For everybody, but me." Lyssa answered.

"You're safe. You were able to secure the deals. Your freedom, the girl in Scotland under my umbrella and a final pass for the Black Badges." Dannigan said.

Lyssa said nothing, just continued to look out the window to the ocean.

"Tell me what it is you want." Dannigan said heavily then noticed the trembling of her hands. "What did he give you?"

"A neurotoxin. He shut down my glands. I can't move my legs and it's hard to breathe too." Lyssa answered.

Dannigan sighed. "Damn it."

"The Black Badges are your problem. They can stay here if they want, but when they deploy, they do so under your supervision only. Our side never needs their help and they don't want ours now that the girls have completed school. So be it. Kim is removing their access to the TOC and the Array. They proved they don't need it, along with us." Lyssa said then slowly laid back, her eyes were starting to roll back.

Dannigan nodded. "I asked you for a favor and you did it without reservation. I apologize now and will deal with them today."

Dannigan turned to leave and saw Rodrick in the doorway. They passed each other silently. Rodrick sat down on the bed and leaned over.

"It's just me. The twins are playing downstairs." Rodrick said quietly.

Lyssa took a shallow breath. "I'm slipping. Just sleep. Tomorrow. Love you."

"I love you too." Rodrick said and kissed her.

Rodrick stroked her hair for a while as she slept then went back down to watch and play with their children. In bed with her later, he held her close and wept.

 

~o~O~o~
 

She looked around, it was dark. No moon. No stars. But there was some ambient light. Slowly she rolled and began to slide. Down from the peak she slid, the surface shifting beneath and slipping underneath her descent. Suddenly it gave way and she found herself rolling uncontrollably until falling off the edge to splash below. It was thick. Breaching the surface only felt like she was now coated with something clinging and had to wipe one-handed to clear it from her eyes. It smelled slightly sweet yet metallic. Some had gotten into her mouth. It tasted of the tang of a nine-volt battery's terminals, lightly encrusted with salt. Coppery with a hint of zinc and thick. Disgustingly thick. It filled her nostrils and threatened to clog her throat.

Lyssa forced herself to keep her head above surface and shake her head to sling off the coating. The edge of where she had been was too high to grab onto, but turning around saw something in the dim distance. With no other option obvious, she swam away. It seemed forever in the dark, stopping several times to rest, slightly floating on her back. After what seemed like an endless night, she felt some kind of bottom beneath her. It was soft and irregular. Not sand, dirt or rock. Still, it held her weight and allowed walking instead of forcing her to swim. As Lyssa walked forward, it became more shallow. Light broke as she waded knee deep and realized she had been correct. It wasn't water, but blood. Her arms, legs, all of her body was coated with it. Lyssa started walking forward again. There was no reason to just stand there. There was sand ahead. A beach.

The more she walked, the shallower it became. Translucent as well. Bodies. She was walking upon bodies. A look back and there was a hill jutting up out of the blood. Bodies piled up, like some kind of grotesque island sea of gore.

Lyssa coughed a laugh and murmured to herself. "Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more."

She turned and continued to wade forward and sing . "He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright. He checked out all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight. He sat and listened to those awful engines roar; you ain't gonna jump no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more. Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."

It sounded strange to be only one voice, but Lyssa went on. Determined to make the beachhead.

"Is everybody happy cried the Sergeant looking up. Our Hero feebly answered Yes and then they stood him up. He leaped right out into the blast, his static line unhooked. And he ain't gonna jump no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more. Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom." Lyssa sang as the dawn seemed to break.

The beach was now directly in front of her, any moment she would step freely onto it, so she sang on even louder. "He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock. He felt the wind, he felt the clouds, he felt the awful drop. He jerked the cord, silk spilled out and wrapped around his legs. And he ain't gonna jump, no more. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."

Two more steps and she would be there, it was all the incentive to spur her on as she sang at the top of her lungs. "The risers wrapped around his neck, the connectors cracked his dome! The lines were snarled and tied in knots, around his skinny bones.The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground. An' he AIN'T gonna JUMP NO MORE. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; an' he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom."

There seemed to be a gentle surf following her feet as Lyssa traipsed on. "The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild. The medics jumped and screamed with glee. They rolled their sleeves and smiled, for it'd been a week or more since last a 'chute had failed. He ain't gonna jump no more!"

"He hit the ground, the sound was SPLAT, his blood went spurting high! His comrades were heard to say THERE'S A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE! He lay there, rolling 'round; in the welter of-his-gore. An' he ain't, gonna jump, no more! Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die. Gory, gory, what a hellu'va way to die; an' he ain't gonna jump no more! Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom." Lyssa reached the beach.

Finally she stepped out and stood on the firm sand, Lyssa tilted her head back and sang gently. "There was blood; upon the RISERS. There were brains; upon the CHUTE. Intestines, were a-dangling; from his PARATROOPERS' SUIT. He was; a mess. They picked; him up. And poured him; from his boots. He ain't. Gonna jump. No more. Gory, gory; what a hell of a way to die. Gory, gory. What a hell, of a way, to die! GORY! GORY! WHAT! A HELL! OF A WAY! TO DIE! NO; HE AIN'T! GONNA JUMP! NO FUCK-ING! MORE!!"

Lyssa fell face first to the sand. She laughed. She laughed and laughed until she felt hurt. The hurting came and with it, a sense of finality. The tears came as well. They fell into the sand, taking blood away from her eyes until she could see each and every grain. Arms closed around her and held her tight. She couldn't smell blood anymore. She smelled the sea. She smelled soap and a hint of cologne. Instead of sand, she felt soft cloth under her right side and a man's chest that her left arm was draped over.

"Please wake up. I don't know where you were, but come back to me. Come home." Rodrick's voice said softly to her.

Lyssa opened her eyes, the man she loved holding her in his arms. "I'm. I'm free. I'm finally free."

"Yeah. And we're gonna keep it that way." Rodrick nodded. "From now on."