The evening air was cool and the wind brought a steady breeze to freshen the air. Wei lay on a mattress of feathers with the day’s maiden. Both were easing off the cocaine induced frenzy that Parente kept them in. Each day, he had been forced to drink the chichi. Parente explained that as he grew to his place as a god, this and the ocucho would awaken his powers. True enough, each day he felt inspired and powerful. He soon learned to dominate the women he was given each morning. This expanded to everyone who served him. Wei was getting exasperated that Parente was holding him back, but Parente explained everything that was happening and why it was important not to awaken his powers before their time because they might be lost forever.
The young girl stirred in her haze beside him. She snuggled up against his side and ran her hand along his naked torso. Wei frowned. She was neither as talented nor as beautiful as the others. It seemed she was more interested in herself than pleasing him. As she snuggled closer, he felt almost betrayed. The paranoia brought on by the cocaine began working overtime. He imagined her going away from him and finding others who would please her more. His paranoia turned to fury. Sliding over top of her, he began having his way with her, causing her to moan and cry out. Faster and faster he lurched and her cries became louder. Soon even her cries seemed to madden him. He grasped his hands around her throat to stop the noise. She began to struggle for breath, but his grip tightened. In a sex-charged frenzy his mind saw visions of powerful gods inviting him to a heavenly throne. They kept beckoning as he continued his frantic efforts. Suddenly everything went white and he collapsed on top of the now lifeless girl.
When he awoke, the girl was gone. He was left with a growing assurance that everything Parente had told him was correct. He was being raised as a god who required careful awakenings. He had just experienced one of them and knew that this was just the beginning.
The CV-22 Osprey was loud — very loud. Outside the cabin, the two huge three bladed propellers on the end of the wings were beating the air into a blurred submission as the craft flew along at nearly 250 miles per hour. Inside the cabin there were a few boxes of supplies and normally room for 24 people. This time there were only two. The air crewman made his way back to where a special VIP seat had been installed. Vice Admiral Hammond was going over some reports from his briefcase as the crewman tapped him on the shoulder. The “Mickey Mouse” sound deadening headset was pretty good at blocking the noise of the plane, but also prevented him from hearing someone talk to him just a foot away. The crewman held out a white box.
Hammond smiled and mouthed, “Thanks,” as the crewman motioned toward his watch. He held out three fingers then motioned an “O” afterwards. Hammond nodded. In just 30 minutes he would be back aboard his ship. Actually, the Iowa wasn’t “his” anymore, but the ties to the behemoth were very strong. It would be good to get back aboard.
Opening the box, Hammond found a cold chicken wrap with condiments on the side, along with some chips a can of soda and a pickle. There was even a wrapped chocolate chip cookie on the side. Picking up the pickle, Hammond chuckled. How come they always put a dill pickle in with just about any sandwich, he asked himself. Must be their idea of vegetables. Then he picked up the cookie. It was the usual circular cookie with evidence of chips along the top. Nothing like aboard the ship, he thought again. The bakers aboard Iowa had named theirs ‘Battlechip, Chocolate Chip Cookies.’ They were nearly twice as big with very large sized hunks of chocolate seemingly swimming in the cookie. Sure, they would probably lead someone into a diabetic fit, but to the crew they meant ‘home.’
Hammond put the papers away and ate his lunch. It was clinch time for his small task force and he was now going to play his ships like some giant chess player — always ahead of his opponent and making moves the other wouldn’t have the chance to counter. To him, this was the next thing to war. He wouldn’t have the free reign he might have had in the last war, but this time he was going to play with someone’s head, not just shoot at them. He was going to get inside his enemy and make them pay.
Hammond rubbed his eyes. He was losing too much sleep lately. He forced himself to remember that he had to be objective and forget that one of the people he was to save was his own wife. That was getting harder to do. He pulled out his wallet and looked at her picture. Yes, he was just old fashioned enough to keep her picture there like they did in the old days. There she was, smiling back at him like always. There was always that little twinkle in her eyes that he had found so attractive. It was almost like she was telling him she knew what he was up to. In a lot of cases she did.
He sat back and chuckled over the roar of the engines. She would be waiting for him now. At least he hoped she knew he would be coming. He hadn’t let her down yet. He would always be there.
The aircraft began to bank and Hammond came out of his thoughts to look out the side window. In the distance he caught sight of a large flat topped ship. It quickly passed from his view as did a smaller ship. The crewman motioned for him to buckle up. Hammond nodded and gave a tug on the seatbelt reassuring the crewman and himself. Turning his gaze back out of the window he noticed that the propellers had begun to tilt from horizontal toward the vertical. He could feel the speed drain off the aircraft. Then he noticed what looked like a wake passing along their port side.
The aircraft slowed almost to a stop, matching the speed of the ship, then eased over the after deck and gently set down almost dead center of a large white circle with a line through it. Once stopped, men on the deck rushed out to chock the wheels and stabilize the aircraft. The rear hatch opened and after waiving thanks to the crew, Hammond stepped off the aircraft. He walked over to one man, in khaki’s and shook his hand. Within a few minutes, the Osprey lifted back into the air and began making its way to the USS Wasp just a few miles distant.
Walking up to his stateroom, Hammond was greeted by many of the crew. There were a few new faces, since many were reservists on their ‘two week’ training cruise, but everyone knew who he was. Heading up the port side, Hammond made his way to the ladder just aft of the wardroom pantry. Just a few steps later and he was in his quarters. Captain Rhodes, who had met him on deck, welcomed him back.
“Any new word from on high?” asked Rhodes.
“Not yet,” said Hammond. “Other than the fact that someone leaked that our team was on the way. But I have some ideas to get them in and get them out. Where is the North Carolina?”
“One day out. The State Department got all the permissions and they should have a great time,” Rhodes said. “Oh, and your staff should get here in about an hour. They flew into Pensacola and were picked up from there. They’re coming in the second special Osprey.”
Hammond nodded. “Good. You have their spaces ready?”
“All set. Captain Moyseowicz will be one level up and the others we are spreading out along the O-2 level aft near the staff spaces. The comm gear is set up and operating. The equipment you brought in will have them set up nicely. Anything left out we can handle. Strike has been set up to be your command post.”
“Not the flag plot?”
“Too small,” Rhodes said. “Besides, we aren’t actually going into battle. But if we do, I am assured it’s just the flick of a switch. CIC will take over most functions unless we need the space. One thing I’m also doing, and I hope you don’t mind, I’m having the gunners do pre-fire checks every day so we will be ready for anything. I know we’re just supposed to be decoys, but somehow I don’t want to take that chance,” he said.
Hammond looked approvingly at Rhodes. He liked a guy who took no chances. “How many guns will be available?” he asked.