By Zapper

Synopsis: ‘Typical,’ I thought, stepping away from the ticket counter in Heathrow. The short business trip to Ireland, for no reason comprehensible to mortal man, required a layover in London. Now, due to an ice storm hitting Chicago, my flight was canceled.

“Well, at least I’ve got the first flight out in the morning and the airline is putting me up in a decent hotel.” I said, as I headed to baggage claim.

Unbeknownst to James Frost his layover would be further delayed. A young woman, with a terrifying secret, was at that moment packing for a flight to Mexico. Their paths would collide in dramatic fashion when she is accosted by a hooligan and James, never one to stand around when a beautiful girl was in need, steps in. Suddenly, James is thrust into Kristina’s blonde bombshell of a body and life. Desperate to get his body back, James’ only hope is to help her stop an evil that could threaten the civilized world.

James is quickly caught up in a whirlwind of magic and sex, and the ongoing struggle between two secret organizations. Will he get his body back or be forced to live the rest of his life as Kristina?

[Note: This story is set in the same universe as “On the Run With John and Meka”.]

Author note:

1. This story was written in response to Marusya’s writing challenge and was written with her help and daily involvement.

2. I need to send a shout out to my beta readers – Mr. 20 Inch Biceps, Eric, Hutcho, and BobH. Thank you – without your help this story wouldn’t be nearly as good.

3. An extra thank you to Mr. 20 Inch Biceps – proofreading isn’t much fun, I know, and the dedication and effort you put in to finding and fixing issues with this story is deeply appreciated.

The winter wind, from the southeast, whistled over the city of Glasgow, Scotland. It moved up into the hills, past Torrance and Lennoxtown, the wind shifted, swirling a bit, as the land rose to meet it. Nestled into these foothills a nondescript looking construction site.

The chain fence rattled in the wind as the unremarkable dark sedan came to a halt in front of the gate. In a few seconds a man in dark clothes jogged forward to unlock and swing the gate open. The car continued into the site and pulled to a stop next to a trailer marked ‘Office’. The driver’s door opened and a tall man climbed, painfully, out. He had to use a cane to assist with the walk to the office, due to the artificial leg.

Hidden security camera’s swiveled to track his progress as the man made his way to the office. The door to the trailer swung open spilling warm golden light into the night as a short, fat, man stepped out to meet him. A gust of cold wind caused the robes he was wearing to swirl and the fat man caught the hood as it slid off his bald head. Using a hand to keep the hood in place he met the tall man and extended a hand.

“Doctor.”

The tall man’s voice was rough, almost gravelly, as he reached out with his free hand to shake the one offered by the doctor.

“Mr. Jackson, it’s good to see you again.”

The man’s rough, scarred, face twisted into a sarcastic grin, “I wish I could say the same, doc.”

“Please, come with me.”

They moved, slowly due to Jackson’s injury, around the trailer toward another section of the job site.

“How have you been?” The Doctor asked, looking up at his much larger companion.

“Seriously? Half my body was fragged in that explosion and I lost my leg, and my eye. I’m learning to deal with it, but I’m now useless.”

They reached an uneven patch of ground and the doctor waited as Jackson stumbled around it. After that the light from the far end of the site gave both men a better view of the ground and they increased their pace a little.

“Yes, about that, what did Mr. Drake tell you about tonight’s . . . ah . . . procedure?”

“Only that the Syndicate had a way to get me back into the field, where I belong.”

“Yes, well, that is certainly true.”

The wind died and the sound of chanting drifted to them out of the night. Once they passed a stacked pile of lumber Jackson paused, for the first time able to see their destination. Nearly a dozen torches illuminated an area of the construction site, but what caused Jackson to stop was the sight of nearly a dozen people in long robes with hoods. The doctor looked up at his taller, sinister companion.

“Max, I don’t know why you’re so important to Mr. Drake, but I assure you that if you go through tonight’s ritual you will walk out of here with a completely healthy body.”

Max sighed, “Doc, if you’re going to go on and on trying to convince me to go through with this, then save it. I’ve known for years about the existence of magic. I’ve was a drinking buddy of Jason Drake’s before he was Chairman Drake. I doubt there is anything in tonight’s rite that will surprise me.”

At this the doctor seemed to smile, “Oh?”

“I may not be ‘gifted’ but I’ve seen it all over the years. Is this a rite of healing? Or perhaps one of transformation? Will you take someone’s vitality and transfer it to me to heal my wounds?” Then he used his cane to tap the metal leg, “It doesn’t matter, as long as I walk out of here without this, and can get back into the field, then I’m good.”

“Then by all means let us continue.” With that the doctor led the way into the circle. The chanting cultists of the syndicate didn’t pause as the doctor and Mr. Jackson moved into the circle. A trench had been dug into the bare earth and filled, with what Max assumed was, blood. Around the trench that formed the great circle with mystical runes had been drawn by using salt. A part of Max wondered why the wind hadn’t disturbed the salt but then he dismissed it as unimportant. In the middle of the circle a pair of chains had been fixed to stakes that had been hammered into the ground. Between the first pair of stakes Max could make out the form of a woman huddled.

“What’s this?” Max said, eyeing the chains, a hint of skepticism in his rough voice.

“Tonight’s rite will use powerful magic, you must remain within the circle until it’s complete. The chains are necessary, because once we start we can’t stop, even if you change your mind and want to run.”

“Fine. But I won’t run, even if I could.” Max said, stiffly. Then he moved into the circle being careful not to disturb any of the lines carved into the earth. The doctor moved with him and quickly locked each of his wrists into a set of chains. In a few seconds Max found himself facing the woman who looked up. Tears streaked her face and Max thought she was very pretty. Now that Max had been secured the doctor moved briskly out of the circle.

“I’ve seen magic before doc, why all the drama with these?” Max said lifting his wrists and shaking the chains.

“Yes, that maybe, but tonight we’re trying a new ritual. If this works, then the next step will be to see if we can freeze it into a crystal. That will allow it to be used in the field, and if I’m right this could change everything for the Syndicate. Think of this as a beta test.”

“Great, so I’m a fucking experiment.”

At this the woman who’d been staring at Jackson pushed herself to her feet and looked between him and the doctor who’d reached his position outside the circle.

“Please, help me.” she pleaded.

Now that she stood up Max was able to see that she was a little thing. The top of her head reached a point just above his chest. Despite her lack of height Max couldn’t help admiring her figure, she had curves in all the right places. Max licked his lips, the girl’s small firm breasts, slim, yet feminine hips, and wild midnight hair made her just the kind of woman Max was into.

“Look I’m sorry, please just, call Mr. Stonewall. He can vouch for me. I’d never tell any what the company does. I didn’t mean to read those files. Besides, who’d believe me? No one thinks magic is real, they’d just put me in an institute.” Her voice was the sort of high pitched voice that set Max’s teeth on edge.

Max ignored the girl, “So, doc, what is this spell? Are you going to give her my injuries and use her vitality to heal me?” Max had seen this done once before and had figured that was what was going on.

“What??” If the woman had been frightened before she now looked positively terrified as she had undoubtedly seen his scars. “Oh, God, please no.”

From the darkness the doctor answered, “Ah, no. That spell while quite effective, isn’t what I’ve got planned for you tonight, Maxwell.”

The chanting now gained strength and it was getting hard to hear the doctor. For the first time that night Max felt alarmed, he’d heard stories about the doctor and about his fascination with experimentation.

“What do you plan to do?”

“We have uncovered a new art, one that might allow us to infiltrate every government in Europe and at long last bring down the Society.”

“Infiltrate? I don’t understand, I thought you were going to heal me?”

At this the doctor pulled a crystal from under his robes and started chanting. After a second his eyes began to glow with a malevolent red light and a moment later the crystal lit up with a matching glow of its own. Max could feel the power rising in the circle and now he couldn’t help struggling against the shackles that held him, his cane toppling to the side.

“Does Jason Drank know . . .”

Max felt his mouth freeze mid-sentence as the power pulsed over him. It felt like his skin was on fire. Max tried to scream but his body refused to move. Then he felt some kind of unseen force hook him right above his navel and lifted him into the air. Abruptly the chains on his wrists went taunt arresting his upward movement. A part of his mind noticed that the girl was also floating, tethered to the ground next to him by her chains. Then the fire that had covered him somehow raced inside and he threw back his head to scream only he felt the fire burn up through his mouth, nose, and eyes and as it left his body he felt his spirit flow up away from his burning body along with the fire. The sudden absence of pain was almost pure bliss. Then Max became aware of another spirit floating only a few feet away and he felt drawn to the spirit. Before he know it the power that had lifted him from his body brought him to the other spirit in a strange embrace.

Max felt his spirit merge with the woman’s. For a moment he felt like they were one person. Then he became aware of the chanting and the tempo of the chanting was like the beating of a great heart. Max felt the magic around him pulse in response to the cultists and then his spirit slowly detached itself from the girl’s spirit only now he was hovering over her body. Now that same force that had pulled him up out of his body forced him down, down into the open, eyes, nose, and mouth of the girl. Max tried to fight it, he didn’t want to be inside that delicate, feminine, body and threw every bit of will against the spell. It didn’t make any difference as the last of Max’s spirit was sucked into the healthy female body. Then there was a sharp electric shock, the world twisted and snapped into place. As it did whatever force that had lifted them into the air released them. Max dropped to the ground and it was as if his brain was a minute behind his thoughts because he heard a voice, the high pitched female voice that had set his teeth on edge complete his sentence.

“. . . what you’ve got planned?”

Stunned Max struggled to his feet, his brain unable to process what had just happened. The doctor immerged from the shadows and strode over to Max, “How do you feel? Can you tell me your name?”

Max, looked up at the doctor, for a second too stunned to speak. Then in that high pitched voice, “I’m Maxwell Jackson, Syndicate assassin, and spy. And you better fucking well have Jason’s permission for this or I’m going to put a bullet between your ears at my first opportunity!”

At this the doctor grinned, “Mr. Drake, personally selected that body for you. I believe it’s his idea of an inside joke, something about that time in Manila.”

Max wanted to cuss, but the memories of that night hit him and he just started laughing. Then unable to stop himself Max reached up and started feeling his chest. The information being sent to his male brain as he groped his female breasts was the strangest experience of Max’s life.

“Look on the bright side, Max, it’s commonly known that women make the best spies.”

“Oh, shut up and get these off me.” Max held out her hands. The doctor produced a key and quickly unlocked the cuffs. As he did Max started to shiver, he wasn’t sure if it was cold or just a reaction to the spell.

Then a wail of horror caused Max and the Doctor to look over at the huddled form of a man. The new male had just pushed himself into a sitting position and was using his one good eye to stare with horror at his scared hands.

“Noooo, no, this isn’t possible. I must be dreaming.” Despite the base rumble the voice somehow had a feminine quality. “I’m having a nightmare . . .”

“Ah, just a moment,” the doctor said and walked over to the man. Then he smoothly drew a 9mm semi-auto and fired several shots into the man’s head. Max couldn’t help jumping at the sharp report of the gun and despite having killed on several occasions she had to look away. There was something about watching her former body die that was . . . disturbing.

A woman came up behind Max and draped a blanket over her shoulders as the doctor put the gun away. Max’s mind was still trying to understand what had happened and she failed to hear what the woman said.

The doctor stepped in front of Max and put his hand under Max’s chin forcing her to look up into the doctor’s face. “Now, Max, you need to go with Irene. She will take you to your new flat, and start teaching you everything you need to know to be a woman. I’ll come by and check on you tomorrow and we can discuss your training and exactly what Mr. Drake has in mind for you.”

I looked up from my magazine, the latest issue of ‘Field and Stream,’ at the woman who’d just cleared her throat.

“Mr. Frost, Mr. Flynn will see you now.”

I slid my magazine into my briefcase and stood up. I gave the middle-aged woman my most charming grin and moved toward a set of double doors. ‘I thought everyone in Ireland was either a blonde or a red-head,’ I thought as I moved past the secretary. Even though she was in her mid-forties, and was a couple of pounds overweight, I could tell she must have been a real knockout when she was younger.

Just then the doors opened and I forgot all about the secretary. The woman standing in the doorway was a couple of inches shorter and a few years younger than me. She gave me a slight professional smile and extended her hand.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Frost. Your presentation yesterday was very impressive.”

I took her smaller hand in mine and smiled in response. Things had gone quite well yesterday. “Thank you. Ms. Murphy, but you can call me Jim.”

“Please, come in Jim.” As she said this the woman took a step back and to the side. “And you can call me Judy.”

I allowed my eyes to quickly drink in Judy’s form and had to let out an internal sigh. I’d never dated a redhead and she had curves in all the right places. I would have asked Judy out for a drink last night after my presentation, if I hadn’t already been in a relationship. Now, with a flight back to Chicago later today it was too late. ‘Probably for the best,’ I thought. Then I glanced over at the man standing by the conference table.

“James, it’s good to see you again.”

Mr. Flynn, the Chief Executive Officer of Flynn International, moved around the table and walked toward me his hand extended. Even though he was in his early fifties he had a powerful grip and maintained an athletic appearance. I’d read his bio before coming to Ireland, and I knew that he’d spent most of his life in construction. In fact he’d built this business from the ground up.

“Please, call me Jim. Only my mother and Father Boyle call me James.”

“Jim it is then. Please have a seat. Oh, and call me Dave.”

With that Mr. Flynn gestured to the conference table to one side of the office. I pulled out a seat with my back to the door, cringing on the inside at putting my back to a door, yet knowing that it would be bad form for me to walk around the table to take a seat facing the door.

“So, what can I do for you? Did you have questions from yesterday’s presentation?”

Dave and Judy had both taken chairs across from me and at my comment Dave shook his head. “No, you’re proposal to take over security at our international sites was quite impressive. I’m also interested in having all of our job sites evaluated, not just the international ones. I’ll be sending your proposal to our directors later today, for their review. I think we will be able to give you an answer within a week.”

“Excellent.” I replied, trying to hide me excitement. I wasn’t a salesman by nature, but this wasn’t really a normal sales job either. Flynn’s construction company was responsible for nearly a dozen projects around the world with several important ones in the Middle East, including Bagdad. The company I worked for offered security, personal security, physical security, and security evaluations for buildings, homes, offices, and now, construction sites. The thing that made us so competitive was that we hired mostly from the U.S. Military including the Special Forces. Depending on what you needed we could come in and do a review of a site and offer suggestions to improve the local security, take over with one of our teams, or we could supply an executive with an elite detail to ensure his or her safety.

“I’ll get straight to the point. You know that my company has contracts with several governments and we have locations around the world?”

I nodded, “Yes.”

At this Dave turned to gesture toward Judy. “You met Judy yesterday. She was introduced as our director of information technology.”

I nodded, again, but didn’t say anything.

“What I didn’t specifically tell you, yesterday, was that she is not only responsible for making sure our IT works. She also prevents anyone from doing anything malicious on, or to, our network. Lastly, her division is responsible for the electronic security at all of our sites.” He nodded to Judy, who picked up the conversation.

“Jim, I’ve got something I’d like to show you. To get your professional opinion.”

At this I felt like I needed to interject, “I’m happy to look at anything you’d like to show me, but I’m not an IT guy.”

“This isn’t IT, it’s a security video. And we have, of course, turned this over to the proper authorities. None the less, it is very disturbing.” With that she picked up a remote and turned to look at the wall.

Above the conference table was a projector and the wall to my right had been painted white, with the kind of paint used for projectors to give you a high resolution image. Mr. Flynn dimmed the lights as the projector powered up. In a few seconds I could see the frozen black and white image of a construction site. The site was located in a dell with tall pine trees around it. It was obviously after dark and the security camera gave me a view of about a dozen people standing in a circle wearing strange looking long robes with hoods that hid their faces.

“Are these some kind of cultists?”

“We’re not sure.” Judy replied.

Judy must have hit play because the people started moving. I leaned forward watching as one of the people moved around the circle lighting a series of torches. For a second the flare of the torch light messed with the camera and then it automatically compensated and now I could actually see what was going better.

“Where is this site?” I asked not looking away from the security video.

“A remote location in Scotland.”

A van pulled up and two men got out carrying a woman between them. The woman was struggling, hard, fighting the men every step of the way. Unfortunately, for her, was much smaller than the men and they were able to drag her forward. At this Judy paused the video.

“We haven’t been able to identify the woman.”

“She’s five foot two inches, plus or minus an inch, between a hundred and ten and a hundred and twenty pounds, and in her early twenties.”

“How can you tell all of that?” There was a hint of disbelief in Judy’s voice.

“Back up the video please. Okay, stop.” I stood up and went to the screen, careful to stand to one side and pointed. “Here, do you see, as she’s being pulled out of the van. At this point she’s standing up. I know how tall that van is and based on that I can judge her height. She’s got a slim build and two men easily lift her between them, from that plus her height, and I can make an educated guess as to her weight.”

Both Judy and Dave were looking at me more than a little impressed. “Why do you think she’s in her early twenties?” Dave asked.

“Hit play, please,” and then after a second, “Pause.” I pointed again. “Here, do you see, as she’s fighting against the two men, you can tell that she’s in great shape, she’s using her abs, back, legs, she’s giving these two guys everything they can take just dragging her to the circle. Most people by the time they’re in their thirties start to let themselves go. Also, see the long dark braid? As a generality, woman tend to start going with shorter, hair styles as they get older. It’s easier to take care of and presents a more mature, professional look. That is of course a generalization, but based on those observations I’d guess, twenty one to twenty six years old.” Then I shrugged, “There are always exceptions but if I were going to start searching data bases for missing persons, I’d start with those search parameters and see what came back.”

“What about race?” Judy asked, impressed and curious.

I shook my head. “The video is too grainy to get a good look at her face, her skin is light, but in a black and white video, it’s just too hard to tell for sure. You can rule out African descent but that’s really it.”

With that I returned to my seat and after a second Judy hit play. The woman was dragged, still struggling, to the edge of the circle. At this point two of the cultists left their positions and moved to assist. They each grabbed a leg and now the four men moved, carefully, forward. The quality of the video was too poor to actually see what was on the ground but whatever it was the men were moving slowly and cautiously.

“Do you know what was on the ground?”

“Not entirely, no. Although the forensic team that looked at the site, thinks they’d drawn a circle and filled it with sheep’s blood. We think they used salt for additional symbols but it’s pretty hard to tell for sure.” Dave said.

I watched as they chained the woman by the wrists to a pair of stakes in the center of the circle. Then the men left, and for several minutes nothing appeared to happen. Judy it the fast forward button and then after a few seconds slowed it down to normal speed.

From off to one side a pair of men approached the circle. I watched, as the taller of the two men limped forward using a cane. The man walking with the tall guy was overweight and wearing robes that matched those of cultists standing around the circle chanting. As the two men passed the camera the tall guy turned slightly and gave the camera a full view of his face.

“Pause,” I said and Judy hit the button.

“Why does his face look familiar?” I mused. The man had a beard and dark hair, but he was missing an eye and there were scars on the right side of his face.

“That is Maxwell Jackson. He’s been wanted for several years for what some consider terrorism, but I have it on good authority that he’s really a mercenary and an assassin.”

I nodded making the connection. “It looks like he’s done with that line of work.”

“More than you might suspect.” Judy said, and hit play.

The short guy escorted Mr. Jackson into the circle and he fastened a second set of chains to Jackson’s writs. The girl had stopped struggling and had fallen to her knees. Now, she stood up and I could see that she didn’t even reach Jackson’s shoulder as they stood facing each other. The fat guy left the circle and pulled an object from his robe. Jackson said something and the fat guy responded. At this the girl looked around wildly and started struggling against her chains, while Jackson looked puzzled. Then the fat guy lifted the object above his head. As he did I noticed that it was about the size and shape of a baseball. The cultists standing around the circle also lifted their empty hands above their heads and I could tell that they were chanting in unison.

A bright light flared from the crystal and as it did both Jackson and the woman in the circle stiffened, their backs arched and it looked like every muscle in their bodies had locked up. Then as I watched they both were lifted by some invisible force into the air. In a second the only thing holding them to the ground was the set of chains.

“Is this some kind of joke?” I asked looking at the grainy video. “Some kind of special effects or someone hacking into the security camera?”

“Keep watching,” Dave said.

Abruptly light started pouring from the eyes and mouths’ of Jackson and the woman. The light lifted from each of them and flew together forming a single glowing sphere that hovered between the two. The sphere started pulsing, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. Then after several seconds the sphere separated pouring light back down into the two people still floating above the circle. Their bodies remained motionless every muscle locked for another second and then as if a string had been cut they fell to the ground.

“What was that supposed to be?” I glanced at Dave.

He shook his head, “It’s not done yet.”

I turned back to the video I saw the short guy who’d been holding the glowing thing walk into the circle. He stopped by the woman who was apparently starting to come around. She was looking at her hands, almost, curiously. Then, abruptly, she lurched to her feet. She grabbed her chest with one hand and reached between her legs with the other. For a second she felt herself up and this seemed to amuse the fat guy. Then she glared at the fat guy obviously angry. What puzzled me was her body language. It was completely different. Earlier, she’d been terrified, panicky, and fighting for all she was worth. Now she seemed unsteady, like she was drunk, but she wasn’t scared of the guy, she was pissed.

By this time Mr. Jackson was coming around and he pushed himself into a sitting position. The short guy stepped to one side of Jackson pulled out a pistol, calmly placed it to the side of his head and pulled the trigger. Even though the video quality was poor the sight of Jackson’s head exploding as the bullet tore through was shocking.

“What the hell?” I looked at Dave.

“We’ve given a copy of this to the authorities. Our security guard at that construction site found Mr. Maxwell Jackson’s body dumped at the edge of the grounds. So we’ve got positive identification on him.”

I glanced back at the video that was still playing. The woman had been unchained and she was no longer struggling with her captors. A person, about the same height as the woman, had come forward and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and was helping her from the circle.

“What about the others in the video? The woman, and the guy who killed Jackson?”

“We don’t know who they are, but the authorities are looking into it.”

I nodded, “We’ve got a few people who could look at this video for you. They could give you a professional, technical, evaluation. Is this indicative of recent threats against your company?”

At this Dave shook his head. “No, we’ve never had anything like this happen on one of our job sites. But you can see now, after this, why we’re interested in additional security.”

“When did all of this happen?”

“A couple of months ago. We started by working with the authorities, but so far they’ve not been able to come up with any leads. That’s why the board decided we needed to improve our physical security.”

I nodded, “I think we can put together a proposal that will ensure that nothing like this happens again at one of your sites.”

By the time I left Mr. Flynn’s office I felt sure that we’d get the contract. They needed an evaluation of each of their job-sites around the world and estimates on what they needed to do to improve security. They were also interested in what we could do to protect their people while they were overseas. Particularly, for those working in the Middle East. If this worked out like I thought it would this contract alone would be worth several million. I couldn’t help feeling satisfied as I drove to the airport.

I still had a couple of hours before my flight. Then I thought about the video. What the hell had happened? How had those two people been levitated like that? What was with all of that light? And most importantly why had the guy, who’d appeared to be friends with Mr. Jackson, killed him? I shook my head, obviously some of it was special effects. But the authorities had recovered Jackson’s body, so that part had been real. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just watched something evil, and I didn’t understand it.

I looked down at the frumpy bored ticket agent for American Airlines and it took all of my self-control to keep from shouting at her. The line of annoyed people standing behind me shifted, restlessly, waiting for me to finish my business. I glanced around Heathrow and even though it was an international airport it had, to my mind, an English feel. The agent cleared her throat drawing my attention back to her, “Sir, here is your boarding pass. You’re in seat 3B, first class, you’re at gate B17.”

“Um, thanks. What time will I be boarding?”

“Six o’clock, tomorrow morning.”

I wanted to grind my teeth. It was just after seven p.m. and I was supposed to have been airborne headed back to Chicago forty five minutes ago. Instead I was standing in line getting re-ticketed for a new flight. Apparently O’Hare was closed due to an ice storm and the next flight AA could get me onto was tomorrow.

“What am I supposed to do for the next eleven hours?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Then seeing the look on my face she continued her double chin quivering, “I can print you a voucher for ten pounds off dinner in any of the Heathrow restaurants.”

I ignored her comment, “Can I leave the airport? I know there are some decent restaurants and hotels around here.”

“Yes, but you’ll need to go through customs.”

“That’s fine.”

I took my ticket from her along with the voucher. I had a small suitcase and a combination backpack computer case. My trip to Ireland had only been a couple of days and I liked to travel light so there wasn’t anything to get from baggage claim. As I followed the signs toward customs I saw a restaurant that seemed about two thirds full and based on the number of TVs I figured it was a sports bar. I hadn’t eaten anything since eleven a.m. and my stomach growled.

“Well, I guess I might as well use this dang voucher.”

As soon as I stepped into the pub I realized that I’d miscalculated, there were a lot more people in here than I’d thought.

A cute, petite, blonde in a tight t-shirt smiled at me, “Just one?”

“Yeah, uhm, I can sit at the bar. It looks like you’re pretty busy.”

“Sure, just go in and find a seat.”

I wove my way through the crowd and noticed that most of the patrons were focused on the rugby match on the TV. I’d played a little rugby while in the service and paused to check it out. The team in black, I was guessing this was Northampton, had just scored the first Try of the match against a team in mostly white. By the ticker at the bottom of the screen I was guessing this was Bath.

“What can I get ya love?” The red head behind the bar must have been in her mid-forties and even though she was busy she offered me a smile.

“Can I get a Guinness? And a menu?”

“Sure, thing.” And then she was gone.

I settled onto a stool and watched the match. It looked close but Northampton appeared to have the momentum. One thing I’ve discovered, no matter where you are in the world, sports bars are all the same. The slightly rowdy atmosphere and the sense of temporary comradery made it feel very comfortable.

Out of habit I scanned the pub for threats. There was a mixture of patrons, travelers just looking to get dinner, others wanting a quick drink, and a group obviously interested in the match.

I saw a family of eight, with an exhausted mother, who had an infant tucked up under a blanket on her shoulder breast feeding. The dad was busy chasing a three year old who wanted nothing more than to escape. The rest of the kids were engaged in coloring books and video games. Directly in front of the big screen was a group of four loud men. They were wearing casual clothes, obviously traveling for business, but one had changed into a Northampton jersey. By the way they were shouting they were obviously fans.

“Here ya go dear, will ya be start’n a tab?”

“Sure,” I said, taking a long pull from the draft stout before looking at the menu. ‘Fish & chips, stew, sandwiches, yep, English pub grub,’ I thought. There was a loud shout from the foursome and I glanced over to see that Northampton had scored another Try. The guys were celebrating loudly, obviously a couple of beers into the game.

Then I spotted her.

The woman sitting by herself in a booth in the same section as the loud rugby fans. She had a red wine in front of her and a mostly untouched sandwich. She was just staring into her glass ignoring the guys. ‘That’s a little odd,’ I thought and then shrugged it off.

“So, what’ll ya be hav’n?”

I looked over at the red head and read her name tag. “Mary, I’d like the Fish & chips. You can’t visit London and not have the Fish & chips, right?”

She, snorted and said something under her breath about tourists, and looked at me like I was an idiot before moving away. Feeling a little underappreciated I took off my jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. Then I stretched feeling my back pop, I was still a little sore from this morning’s workout. I had a few minutes before the food arrived so I headed to the restroom. The restroom was empty so I took the urinal in the far corner knowing it would protect me on two sides. All threats would have to approach from my left. I pulled out my shlong and let it rip. ‘Ah, nothing like a good piss, as long as there’s plenty of power behind it.’ I thought. I’d had a couple of cups of coffee and they’d run right through me. Once done, I gave my dick a couple of obligatory shakes and tucked away my pride and joy.

I moved to the sink just as a couple of young guys entered the head. They were obviously just out of high school and probably traveling on their own for the first time. I waved my hands under the faucet and water started coming out. As I washed I absently glancing into the mirror. A moderately handsome face with dark hair, blue eyes, and lightly tanned skin looked back. I had slightly more than a five o’clock shadow going now which looked kinda trendy with my closely cropped hair. Trendy isn’t a look I’ve ever gone for and it made me want to shave. Instead, I straightened up and ran a damp hand over my head and felt the seams of my shirt, along my shoulders, stretch in protest. I felt fatigued and knew that I needed a good night’s rest.

I returned to my seat at the bar just a few seconds before my food arrived and I tucked in. By the time my second beer appeared at my elbow I’d forgotten about the match and was thinking about work. The trip to Ireland had been successful and I felt pretty sure we’d get the contract. The security business can be tough and most of the deals are based on reputation. We’d cut our ties with Black Water, which had helped, but too many prospective clients thought we were a bunch of cowboys. I got an uneasy feeling as I thought about the security video he’s asked me to watch and then dismissed it. It was up to the authorities to deal with, our job would be to improve the security on the site.

Just then I heard a woman’s voice cut through the general noise of the bar. “Let me go!”

I glanced over and saw the blonde looker, who’d been sitting by herself nursing a red wine, was on her feet and one of the rugby fans was standing in her way. His large belly strained his Northampton rugby shirt and he had to be at least four inches taller and two hundred pounds heavier than the woman. She was obviously trying to get around him and he was using his bulk and the narrow space between the table and booth to stop her. Then I saw that he’d grabbed her arm.

I was moving before I’d even really thought about it. My cowboy boots made a clicking sound on the floor that was almost drowned out by the noise. I’m not a small guy, at five ten, but even with the two inches of height my boots gave me, the fat guy was taller.

“Please, just leave me alone.” The woman’s voice sounded a little on edge, more than what I thought this clown deserved. ‘Interesting, what had her so panicked?’ I wondered.

“Hey, don’t be that way. Come sit next to me, I’ll explain rugby to you.” The guy had a surprisingly high pitched voice, for someone so big.

I stopped a couple feet behind him and in a loud voice said, “Betty, where, the hell, have you been?” Before either person could respond I continued, “I’ve been saving you a seat for the last thirty minutes.”

The guy turned to look at me and for an instant I caught the woman’s eye, and gave her a quick wink. The look of surprise on her face changed to one of relief.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy said, turning now to face me. His face was flushed with alcohol and he wobbled slightly as he turned. “Bugger off, before I teach you not to interrupt.”

I took a half step closer and met his brown eyes with a cold blue eyed stare. I didn’t say anything for half a second, I let my body and posture talk for me. I could tell in that instant he was sizing me up. I may not be the biggest guy in the room, but I’m very fit, from years of sports, military, and martial arts training. My posture said I was ready for anything and his size didn’t scare me.

“Who am I? I’m the guy who’s going to rip off your head and shit down your throat if you don’t step aside and let my fiancé by.” I said it with a cold, even, expressionless tone, my eyes never leaving his and my body ready for action. There was a second of evaluating, who’s the alpha, and then he looked away. I had to force myself not to grin, ‘Pussy,’ I thought.

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t know she was engaged.” he mumbled, and stepped aside.

I watched him for a second and then looked at the blonde. “Betty, let me help you with your bags, I’m just up at the bar.”

“Thanks,” she said, softly.

She had a carry on and a laptop case sitting in the booth. I picked them both up and headed to the bar where the blonde was now waiting for me. As I did two things struck me about her. She was tall for a woman, only a couple of inches shorter than me, and she was a knock out. The dark skirt and cream colored blouse showed a hint of leg and cleavage and left everything else a mystery. ‘Very tasteful,’ I thought.

“I’m sitting right over there.” I nodded toward where I’d been eating. “Would you care to join me?”

“Thank you for the help. I was trying to get to the ladies room when that jerk got in my way. Do you mind watching my things?”

“For a beautiful lady? Not at all.”

She flashed me a smile and I thought I caught a hint of dimples. “You’re smooth. I’ll be right back.”

I watched her walk away, ‘nice butt,’ I thought and then shook my head. ‘Let it go Jimmy-boy. You’ve got a girlfriend.’

I looked down at my now cold fish & chips and decided not to finish. Instead, I threw the voucher onto the bar along with my card. Mary spotted my plastic from the other side of the bar and made her way over. She gave me a long look, “I saw wat ya did, yer dinner’s on me.”

“Did she already close out?” I said, waving at the booth were the blonde had been.

“I don’t know, would you like me to check?”

“Yeah, and if not, put it on my bill.”

Mary smirked at me and then headed off. It only took her a few minutes to close both our tabs. She handed me the credit card receipt and I wrote her a tip that more than covered the dinner. Just as I was signing my name, from the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde return.

I turned around, “I think we should get out of here before Tweedledum over there gets enough liquid courage to come back.”

“Tweedledum? Oh, the jerk. Okay, and thanks, again.”

We exited the bar and headed down the concourse toward the hub. After a few seconds I looked over at her and said, “I’m James Frost, my friends call me Jim.”

I extended my hand, “So what do you go by, Betty?”

At this she laughed, it was a light feminine laugh, like she’d been holding some tension inside and for a second it was gone. I liked it.

“Well, honey, since we’re engaged, I guess it’s only right you know my name.” She giggled, but then seemed to sober up quickly. “I’m Kristina, Kristina Curtis, and thank you, again. I could have handled it, but he was being a pain in the ass.”

We walked for a couple of minutes and then spotted a coffee shop. As if by mutual agreement we went in. I’d managed to down a couple of beers so the coffee would help me stay awake, plus there was something about this woman that intrigued me, something that didn’t add up.

“So where are you headed?” I asked, trying to sound her out.

“I’m going to Cancun, Mexico.” As soon as she said it I got the feeling that she wished she could take it back.

“I’m headed back home, to Chicago.”

“Oh, were you in London on business?”

“Not London, Dublin. I just seem to have gotten stuck in London. My flight’s delayed until tomorrow, so I think I’ll head out soon to find a hotel.”

She nodded and then suddenly sat up like something had just occurred to her. She looked me over, evaluating, “Tell me, James, what do you do for a living?”

I gave her an easy grin, the one that my girlfriend told me wasn’t fair, “I’m a private contractor.”

“Oh, that sounds important.”

“It’s not really. Mostly, I sit in an office and work on a computer. Just your average office drone.”

She gave me a look, clearly not believing it. Then she reached out and grabbed my bicep. Kristina was tall for a woman but her hand seemed small against my arm.

“Do all, ‘office drones,’ in America, have arms like this?”

At that I had to laugh. “Probably not, but it’s not anything special, I just workout, a lot.”

“And facing down a guy like that, drunk, bigger than you, and looking for trouble, that was nothing?”

I shrugged, “I’ve been in a scrape or two, and besides, I’m a guy. I know how to handle guys. Now tell me about you? What are you afraid of? Are you running from an abusive relationship or something?”

Her face went white for a second and then she glared at me. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I’m not blind. You were skittish before that guy stopped you. I bet normally you’d have put him in his place without any trouble. But not tonight, and I can tell you’re nervous. What’s wrong?”

“Why do you care, what’s it to you?”

“I just hate to see a beautiful woman in distress. If I can help you, I will.”

She gave me an intent look as though sizing me up. “You might be able to help me, but I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Aw, come on. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“There are some people, I might have pissed them off, and I thought it would be best to disappear for a while. But I can’t go away without causing even more problems.”

“It seems to me you’ve already decided, aren’t you headed to Mexico?”

“Yes, but with your help, I might not have to.”

“Okay, what can I do?”

“Are you sure? There might be risks and once you’re involved there’s no backing out.”

The sound of her voice was very serious, but her warning failed to reach my alcohol and testosterone soaked brain.

“I’m in. What do you need?”

She nodded once and then reached into her purse. It took her a few seconds of digging before she came up with a crystal. It was completely round and about the size of a golf ball. I looked at her curiously wondering what this might have to do with her trouble. She held the crystal cupped in her two hands, “place your hands over mine.”

I looked at her for a moment feeling dumbfounded. I’d thought she had a serious problem and here she was pulling out a crystal. Was she some kind of flower-child? I felt stupid but after a second I decided to humor her. I placed both of my hands over hers and noticed that mine were much bigger and that the backs of my hands showed the scars I’d acquired over the years.

“Okay, now will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Just hold on for a second.” Her voice sounded a little nervous, like she didn’t really know what to expect. Then she muttered something I couldn’t quite hear and I felt a shock run through me, like electricity, and I wanted to pull back but I couldn’t move. My mind felt fuzzy and I tried to speak but my mouth wouldn’t function. Yet I didn’t panic. For some reason I knew that I was okay. Then there was a vibration from the crystal and the sound of something cracking, splitting.

Kristina broke the spell by pulling her hands away. “Well, that was strange.”

“You can say that again,” I said, reflexively clutching half of the crystal in my hand.

“Uhm . . . I think you need to keep your half of the crystal close to you when you go to bed tonight.”

“Sure, fine, now what do you need me to do to help you?”

Kristina stood up, “Get a good night of sleep and don’t miss your flight.” She grabbed her luggage and started to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Back home, I don’t need to go to Mexico now. Sleep well James, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

My mind was still feeling fuzzy so it took me a second to realize that I’d not given her my number. I stood up and tried to catch her but she was already gone.

“Now that is one weird, chick.” I shook my head in amusement. “Well, it’s probably better that she doesn’t have my number. Jill would kill me if she thought I was seeing someone else.”

I glanced down at the crystal I was holding and saw that it was pulsing a deep blue color. I stared at it for several seconds mesmerized, I’d never seen a stone do that. Then as if directed by some outside force I put the crystal in my pocket, collected my gear, and followed the signs to customs.

It was already dark when I exited the airport looking for a cab. London’s got great public transportation but I didn’t feel like dealing with the tube. I got in line for a taxi and it only took a few minutes to get to Bath Street and the London Heathrow Marriott. Despite my fuzzy head, the Marriott with all the glass and steel, lit up the night, and was fairly impressive.

I checked in and made my way to my room feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me. It had been a long day but I shouldn’t have been this tired and I doubted that two beers would have this effect on me. I got into my room and avoided looking at the sweet seduction of the bed, instead I pulled out my shaving kit and brushed my teeth. Then, just to be stubborn I fired up my computer and got onto the hotel network.

I could feel a pulsing in my pocket and I pulled out the crystal Kristina had given me. It was still flashing only now instead of just blue it alternated, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue.

I blinked breaking away from the mesmerizing pulsing light and saw that my computer had gone into sleep mode. I woke it up and typed in the password and then opened my gmail account. I glanced at the bottom right corner of my computer and saw that it was after eleven. I’d just lost thirty minutes!

“What the fuck?!”

I glanced at the crystal and was instantly caught, like a fly in amber. Blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet.

I blinked but couldn’t see anything. It took me a second to figure out that I was in a completely dark room and that I was laying on my back in a soft bed. The only source of light was the strobe like light of the crystal I was holding. My view of the crystal was obstructed by something on my chest so I lifted my hands and confirmed that they held my flashing crystal. I looked to the side and made out the dim shape of a window. Just enough light was coming through for me to tell it was there, but not enough to let me see much of the room. ‘Where am I?’ I wondered.

I looked back at the crystal I was holding and I was caught; violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue.

This time when I blinked I was back in my hotel room. Sitting at my desk. My computer was still awake and there was a word document opened on the desktop. I looked at it and saw that it was addressed to me.

***

James,

I’m sorry if what I’m about to do seems mean, egotistical, or unfair. You seem like a good guy, and you did offer to help me out. I needed to act fast and I figured that this is my best chance, which doesn't mean that I like it myself, but I don't have much of a choice now. When you wake up, don’t freak out, everything will be okay. I’ll call as soon as I can, and explain. Remember, just stay calm and wait for my call. Oh, I took something to help you sleep.

Kristina

***

‘What the hell is she talking about?’ I wondered. I checked the clock and saw that it was now eleven fifty eight. Then I felt an urge to look at the crystal. I glanced to my right, where I’d left it sitting on my desk and saw that it was still flashing only now the tempo had increased. The strobe was flashing faster and faster, and I realized I couldn’t look away, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, I felt a tearing twisting sensation and then I was floating above my body looking down at a guy slouched over, staring into a crystal. I followed his gaze and was once again caught up in the flashing light, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet, blue, violet . . . blue . . . . Violet . . . . . blue . . . . . . Violet . . . . . . . blue . . . . . . . violet . . . . . . . . . Blue . . . . . . . . . . violet . . . . . . . . . . . Blue . . . . . . . . . . . . Violet . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Violet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIOLET . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . BLUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIOLET!

Abruptly the flashing stopped and the light in the crystal became a solid violet. Then I felt a presence in the room with me. Another spirit, it felt familiar, yet different. Then a spectral wind hit me, pushing me up and away from the room. I was through the wall and the celling and into the night air above London. The lights were amazing as they went by in a rush and then I was falling.

The next thing I knew I was in a room. I couldn’t make out much detail only that it was small and the figure on the bed held a crystal. The crystal was filled with a cold blue light that called to me. I moved toward the crystal pulled along by what felt like gravity. I hovered over the crystal and the person holding it for an instant, or an eternity, and then dove in. There was another twisting, settling feeling and the pain that I’d felt when I was ripped from my body faded into a soothing darkness.