She turned and glanced up to see General Malloy, grinning wickedly down at her.
23:41 PM
Hamilton excused himself and went to use the bathroom. He checked his reflection and smiled. As soon as he initiated his plan, the Florida problem would be over, and then he could concentrate on issues that were more important; like running the country, and humping the hell out of Miss April. Thinking of her brought an even broader smile to his face. Boy, she was something. He ached for her; in fact, his groin had felt funny all day.
He’d caught something off her in all probability. He wasn’t too concerned, he knew she wasn’t a virgin, hell no, not with her bag of tricks, you didn’t learn those skills in a nunnery.
Still, once he had her safely seconded there would be no messing about. He’d have to find a discreet doctor to treat the sexually transmitted disease. He’d had an STD once before, it came with the territory, he thought pragmatically. Nope, nothing to worry about, it was an occupational hazard as far as he was concerned, if you were a hound-dog an STD was something you had to allow for. He needed to find a friendly, discreet quack to medicate him. Not that prig, Quinn Martell, that was for damn sure. The devil in him wanted to tell him, to watch his face, but he daren’t.
He gazed at his reflection, noticing that the hickeys were showing through again. He attended to them, covering them liberally with his wife’s make-up. He felt great discomfort from his nether regions and scratched through his pants, which gave him slight relief. He saw another hickey poking from the top of his shirt. He tugged at the collar; sure enough, there was another bruise-like hickey. How had he missed that? His wife might have seen it. That would have left him with some serious explaining to do. How embarrassing.
He unbuttoned his shirt and saw the blemish, and thought he’d better remove the garment to attend to it properly, when to his utter horror he saw that his torso was covered in dark rings. What the fuck? What kind of SDT had that bitch given him? He paced the bathroom cursing her. Then it dawned on him. This wasn’t a sexually transmitted disease. This must be the work of his enemies; it’ll be the vice-admiral, or the surgeon general. Goddamnit, he’d been too trusting. Had one of them slipped something into his drink? He’d soon find out.
His crotch ached and he went to use the john. He unzipped himself and felt a dull pain. He felt around his groin and discovered a swelling each side. What the hell is this? He thought.
As he urinated he felt such a shooting pain from his penis that he thought he might pass out. He looked down and very nearly did. Not only did his urine smell pungent, but it dribbled out in thick black clots, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted.
CHAPTER 47
23:42 PM
Sophie saw her pistol lying nearby and instinctively reached for it, but the general was one-step ahead and stood on her wrist, making her scream in pain.
Maybe a little torture, thought the general. It’s the least the bitch deserves. He could see that the man was bleeding badly and would pose no threat.
He applied more pressure on her wrist with his boot. He enjoyed hearing her scream and watching her squirm in pain. Soon she would know it was the end, and that was his favorite moment, when his captives knew they faced the end and all hope drained from their being, their eyes becoming dead. Sophie kicked out at him, making him chuckle. She did not give up easily. Good, he thought, this would be fun. He assessed the situation, calculating if he had the time for a bit of fun and still make it back to the helicopter rendezvous point. His computations gave him a five-minute window and he grinned broadly.
He kicked her in the head, sending her half out of the airboat, however the boat rocked with the movement and his action almost sent him too into the swamp. He regained his balance, and adjusted his pose.
He gestured with his hand for her to stand and take a shot. She rose into a crouch and launched herself at him, but he swatted her away effortlessly with a back-hander, sending her into the cage of the still spinning propeller blade. He squashed her face into the wire-cage and she could feel the wind from the revolving blades and feared her hair might catch.
The general pushed her head further and hoped to grind her into the blade. Sophie tried desperately to push back from the propeller, but the general over-powered her. The wire cage started to give and she felt her face inch forward to the spinning blades. She twisted, and turned sharply making him lose his grip. She tried to pull away but was caught by her hair in a lose wire of the propeller cage.
The general laughed at her predicament, this was too easy he thought, confrontation between two great enemies should have demanded a long drawn out protracted affair, not a push over. He gave her a moment for her to free herself, only sporting after all, and he had a few minutes to spare to indulge her. All she was doing was postponing the end, to live her last moments in pain and agony instead of a quick death.
She took a second to regain her breath, glanced over at Luke who stirred, which was a good sign she thought, and with an almighty tug she wrenched herself from the wire cage pulling the front cover with her, exposing the four-foot whirling blades as she squared up to the general.
He lashed out with a kick, she tried to deflect the blow, but it caught her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her and she crouched down, to get her breath back. She slowly stood on the rocking airboat. The general span on the spot with a high hip-kick and caught her below the rib cage and she felt something snap. She yelped and held her side. She tried to stand but the agony was too much.
The general re-adjusted his stance. Enough is enough, better get to the chopper he thought, one spinning head kick should do it, he started to execute the move, when; “Freeze, you bastard sonofabitch!” growled Luke.
Luke held the discarded pistol and pointed it at him. “You?” laughed the general. “A one-armed, one-legged plague-ridden victim. You really think so?” he shook his head in wonder, “Against me? I’m Jumpin’ Jack Malloy, a Four Star General who not only trained in, but relishes unarmed combat?”
“Leave her alone.”
“Well, if you really want to play,” he said, genuinely excited by the challenge. “Then, welcome to the party!”
“Back off,” Luke said, and coughed up blood.
“I don’t think so, son,” he said. It was pitiful, thought the general, as Luke tried to raise himself up on his one good leg. Blood poured from his shoulder wound and he raised the pistol with his good arm, but the effort made his arm tremble. The general chuckled and feigned ducking from side to side as if he could dodge the bullets, then quick as a flash he snatched the gun from Luke’s grasp, startling him, and pointed it at Sophie. “The bitch first,” he said, and pulled back on the trigger.
Luke sprang up from his good leg until he was horizontal on his crutch, kicked out at the general, and caught him with a tremendous blow square on the side, making him stumble. The general almost recovered his balance when, Sophie swept out with a low kick, sending Jumpin’ Jack Malloy, the highly decorated, Four Star General face-first into the whirling propellers.
CHAPTER 48
23:43 PM
Some 4th of July, thought the surgeon general as he washed his hands in the bathroom at the White House down the corridor from the Oval Office, under the watchful eye of his armed escort. The time is now, he thought. Somehow, he would have to convince the armed guard to release him so that he could section the President.