Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ________________________________ This is a story about a sexual FANTASY
written for consenting adults.  If you're not both of those, don't read it.
Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to.  In
real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do
get sick and die.  You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional
characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY -
don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt.

   If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here,
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters
in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of
these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.

   This is my story, not yours.  Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. 
You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact,
but if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the
law and pissing me off.  _________________________________ Body Guards II:
Stolen Secrets - Chapter 4 (MF) (C)Copyright 2005 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net (remove 'NONO' from the above address to
contact me)
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Shakes_Peer2B
/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/

   ________

   I drove the Citroen southward while Talibah studied the images of her
mother in California on the digital viewer/MP3 player I borrowed from Sun
and Jun.  I also had her put on the earphones and showed her how to play
the audio of her mother's recorded message.

   There were tears in her eyes when she finished, and she turned to me
saying, "Thank you!"

   "We made a promise," was my only reply.  I still wasn't sure about her,
one way or another.

   "My mother says that the woman who first came to get her was badly
beaten and left for dead." She said, "I am so sorry about that!  Was she
another of those Security people from Hastings' company?"

   "Yes."

   "Ah." She said, "I'm beginning to understand.  You think I had something
to do with that."

   "I don't know, one way or the other, Talibah." I replied.

   She looked out the window at the passing farmland, saying nothing for a
long time.  I was negotiating the transition to the bypass around Munchen
(Munich) when she spoke.

   "I can think of nothing to say that will convince you, Darren." She said
softly.  "All I can do is tell you that I had nothing to do with this.  I
have no idea how those men knew she would be there and when.  My mother
says they waited in the town for several days before the woman arrived, and
were still there when she and the others got her out.  Perhaps it was just
chance that they met."

   "Perhaps." I doubted it.  I still didn't know how the Chinese figured
into all this, but the fact that the only two people in the world who were
capable of beating one of Hastings' bodyguards just happened to be in the
same place as Talibah's mother when Mei went to get her was just too
coincidental.

   Talibah remained silent until we were once again headed south and
beginning to see the snow covered peaks of the Austrian Alps in the
distance.

   "What do you think of the Islamic religion, Darren?" Talibah finally
asked, staring off into the distance.

   "I don't think I know enough about it to have an opinion," I answered,
"other than my general attitude toward faith-based systems of worship."

   "And what is that?"

   "I think that some people need to believe that there is a power higher
than themselves that controls their destiny and will care for them when
they finally die," I said, honestly.  "For those people, the worship of a
deity provides comfort and support to continue their daily lives, even in
the face of hardship."

   "But...?" she prodded.

   "But," I continued, "I also think that a proclivity for believing
unconditionally in something, without proof of its existence leaves one
open to all kinds of scams and confidence games.  I also believe that when
thorough knowledge of the tenets of a religion, and responsibility for
interpretation of its writings rests in the hands of a few, the temptation
to abuse that power is bound to overwhelm at least some of them."

   "You're talking about the belief that what Al-Qaeda is doing is Jihad -
holy war?" She asked.

   "I'm talking in general terms.  I believe that terrorism may fall in the
category of abuse of religious power," I continued, "but I don't know
enough about what the Quran says to know for certain.  There is a subtler
form of that abuse at work in the US right now."

   "Really?" She asked, "In what way?"

   "The person who claims to be our President also claims to be a religious
man," I said, "and as such has garnered the support of many of the
religious people in our country, despite the fact that his actions prove
him to be anything but a believer in the tenets of most Christian
religions. He has committed us to an unjust war on false premises so that
his corporate benefactors can profit.  He has done everything in his power
to degrade the education system in our country, probably because it ensures
more gullible voters who will believe what they're told to believe.  He has
even cut benefits to the veterans returning from fighting his war.  I could
go on and on, but the point is that other than the people who expected to
profit from his presidency, his primary support came from those religious
people who were conditioned to believe that a religious person was a good
person."

   Talibah studied me from the passenger seat as I continued.

   "And then we have to consider the sources of the writings that everyone
believes tell them how their deity wants them to behave.  They were
written, a long time ago, by people who were, by our standards, ignorant
and superstitious, and who had their own agendas as they were writing. 
They were first adopted by masses of people who were even more ignorant and
superstitious.  Does that tell us anything about those writings?  Nothing
conclusive, but it does, in my opinion, make them suspect."

   "Do you believe in God?" Talibah asked.

   "Let's just say I'm skeptical about his existence," I replied.  "When
asked what proof they have of His existence, every Christian I've ever
spoken with about this waves a hand and says, 'Look around you!  This is
His creation!  How could anything this wonderful come into existence on its
own?' Well, let's examine that argument.  If such a being exists, outside
our normal space-time continuum, and it created our universe, how could we
be more than a lab experiment to such a being?  If that being really were
the omnipotent, benign overseer of our lives that our clerics tell us he
is, why would He insist on being worshipped and feared?  These are not
qualities 'His' teachings would have us look for in 'good' people, so why
would such a 'benevolent' being assign them to Himself?"

   "Even shunting those questions aside for a moment," I continued, "if we
postulate that our universe must have been created by some infinitely more
powerful, knowledgeable being, we must then ask 'Who created that being and
the universe in which He lives?' By the logic that got us here, there must
have been an even more powerful being that our God would worship as a God,
but then, how did THAT God and THAT universe come into existence?  This
argument can go on indefinitely with all kinds of theological and
scientific arguments on both sides, but the fact of the matter is that
nobody really KNOWS.  It's all just stuff we can't explain with our current
level of knowledge, so, like the ancient Greeks, we create a myth to
explain it."

   "So why do you care what I think about religion?" I asked.

   Talibah smiled for the first time since I'd known her, and it lighted
her face.  "I have long held the theory that if you want to learn important
things about a person quickly, you ask them about religion."

   "That's very shrewd," I told her.  "Now how about answering a question
for me."

   "It's only fair," she replied, still smiling.

   "What do you think of Democracy?" I asked.

   "Ah!" She laughed, "Another religious question!"

   "Or one very akin to it!" I replied, smiling with her.

   "I think that, like Communism and Socialism, Democracy looks good on
paper," she replied, "but its practice is subject to the same human
frailties that plague religions.  In particular, I think you in the US have
gotten so complacent about your Democracy that you are letting it slip
away. You go around the world seeking to convert every other country to
'Democracy' like the Catholics used to send missionaries to savages to
convert them, and yet you no longer practice Democracy.  Your elections are
flawed and rife with corruption.  You have a party in power whose only
purpose seems to be the promotion of greed, and your mainstream news media
are little more than Pravda was to the former Soviet Union."

   "Your country has the greatest economy on the planet," she continued,
"but your streets are getting more and more crowded with poor and homeless
people.  Your democracy isn't working for the same reason it wouldn't work
in many of the countries you try to force it upon - it depends upon the
populace being educated and well informed about what your politicians are
doing and seeing to it that they do what they should, and most of you just
don't care.  Europeans, who have historically been dependent upon monarchs,
now have greater Democracy than that practiced in the US.  They are better
educated, better informed, and more involved in what their government is
doing.  As a result, the quality of their lives is much better than that of
all but the very wealthy in the US."

   "If it's so bad," I asked, "what would you replace it with?"

   "I would not replace it so much as fix it." She answered.  "Your
Government needs balance.  To achieve that, the people need to once more
get involved in their government 'of the people, by the people, and for the
people' and take it back from the rich.  Your society has become decadent,
like that of the ancient Greeks, and the Romans after them.  You have a
powerful empire but it's eating itself up from within.  I don't think there
is any such thing as a perfect form of Government, but from what I've seen,
the ones that do the most good for the most people are those that have to
answer to those people."

   "And what about the media?" I asked, testing.

   "There are no easy answers there." Talibah replied.  "Of course, there
are no easy answers to any of these problems, but I think the key for you
and your countrymen is to get involved - to stop taking the crap you hear
on CNN or Fox news as the whole story.  If people get interested in getting
the real story, and stop allowing themselves to be distracted by the
Michael Jackson and Terry Schiavo stories, your media will have no choice
but to give them what they want or go out of business."

   I drove in silence for a while, not liking what I heard, but knowing it
for the truth.

   My thoughts were interrupted by the need to navigate as we crossed over
the Salzach river and exited the Autobahn into Salzburg.  The hotel on
Rupert Strasse couldn't have had more than ten or twelve rooms, but it was
clean and well kept.  I held the door for Talibah and she went directly to
the check-in counter, tapping the bell to let the hotel staff know they had
customers.

   In German, she asked for a room with a double bed, which, in Germany and
this part of Austria meant two singles side-by-side.

   As she concluded her business and collected her keys, I moved aside to
let her pass so I could book my own room, but Talibah hooked her arm in
mine, saying, "Come along, Darren.  There is no need to waste money on an
extra room."

   I had it in mind to object, as I really wanted to sleep, and not have to
go through a sexual interrogation, but decided I might be able to make it
work to my advantage, so I smiled and let her lead me to the stairs.

   Certainly, watching Talibah's swaying rear ascend the stairs only inches
from my nose made it seem as though it might be a pleasurable experience.

   In the room, though, Talibah seemed to have no interest in talking.

   "Tonight," she whispered, as she began removing my clothes, "I wish to
be selfish.  Tonight I work for no one but myself."

   I SO hoped that was true, but I still could not let my guard down.

   Talibah was not as silent as Sun and Jun in her lovemaking, but she
didn't speak after her initial declaration.  When I was naked, she urged me
onto the bed and I watched as she quickly removed her own clothing.  There
was no attempt at seduction, she did no clever striptease, but her natural
grace and beauty made the simple act of undressing a highly erotic one for
me.

   I was lying on my back, propped up on my elbows to watch.  When she was
bare, Talibah straddled my midsection, trapping my hardening cock against
my abdomen, and pushed me down flat.  My hands went automatically to her
heavy, perfectly formed breasts as her slippery mound slithered slowly up
and down the length of my shaft, still trapped between us.

   Talibah gasped and thrust her chest forward as I kneaded her tits and
repeatedly squeezed and released her dark nipples.  Abandoning those
luscious globes for the moment, I traded them in for the dusky orbs of her
butt, squeezing and massaging them as I urged her body higher on mine.

   Her gasp when my mouth closed over the sensitive bud of her clit, was
almost a whine, and the dark-skinned beauty's back arched as she felt my
tongue laving her private flesh.  Like a mad-woman, Talibah took a double
handful of my hair and pulled me into her.  For a moment, it seemed as
though she was trying to stuff my entire head inside herself!

   I drew the elongated nib of her clit into my mouth and nibbled gently at
it, allowing one finger to tap at her back door as I did.  Talibah went
ballistic!  Her hips ratcheted rapidly, fucking my lips with the stub of
her pleasure nubbin, while her ass, unsure of the intrusion, but enjoying
the sensation, alternately nibbled at, then ran away from my finger.  She
shrieked through her first climax as one backward thrust sank my invading
digit about halfway into her anal ring.

   Gasping for breath, and desperate to get her sensitive clit away from my
tormenting tongue, Talibah rolled to her side.  I rolled with her, and
wound up on top, my rigid cock swaying above her swampy pussy.  Taking a
slender ankle in each hand, I held her legs wide apart as I sank slowly
into the center of her lust.

   With our pubic hair mingled, I held myself deep inside the trembling
beauty, giving her time to adjust to my size.  Talibah's head was thrown
back, the muscles in her neck standing out as she strove to accommodate the
intruder.

   I waited, and when I felt her pelvis beginning to rotate, I flexed,
drawing a sharp cry from the impaled girl.  Withdrawing to the entrance, I
once again plunged steadily into her depths.  This time, small,
dusky-skinned hands dug into my buttocks, pulling me deeper as Talibah's
hips swiveled around the pivot of my dick, stretching her tunnel to make
room for me.

   I placed her ankles on my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her as my
pelvis withdrew for the next plunge.  As my rod invaded her nether regions,
my tongue explored her mouth, dancing with her own.  This time I did not
linger, but began stroking long and deep, while holding Talilbah's lips in
captivity, her moans losing themselves in the cavern of our joined mouths.

   I drove her through three or four more orgasms, then rolled onto my
back, taking her with me.  Talibah, now on top, rode me like horse.  Her
pelvis swiveled and swirled my shaft within her as my hands once again
found her chocolate-tipped breasts.

   I was little more than a flesh-covered dildo to her now, her dark eyes
closed as she took her pleasure from me.  I pinched and pulled at her dark
nipples, causing momentary flashes of just enough pain to enhance her
pleasure.  Minute by minute, Talibah's lust grew.  Faster and faster her
body flashed up and down the length of my pole, drawing from it every ounce
of pleasure it could give her.  Her moans grew guttural and savage as she
wrenched her orgasm from our joined bodies, flinging herself backward as my
fingers tugged insistently at her nipples.  Her breasts stretched
impossibly far as her body stiffened for several long moments, before
collapsing bonelessly on my chest with a small, anguished cry!

   I held still beneath her as Talibah caught her breath.  It was several
minutes before she spoke.

   "I have taken my pleasure from you," she smiled, "Now, I think, I should
like for you to take your pleasure from me."

   I still had not cum, so I was only too happy to take her up on her
offer.

   "Your religion may not approve of the way I would take my pleasure from
you, Talibah." I warned, slipping from beneath her but leaving her
face-down on the bed.

   "I'm not sure what I believe in any more, Darren," she almost whispered,
burying her face in a pillow, "but I have done many things, in the name of
preserving that religion, that it would not view with approval.  What I do
believe is that I want to please you tonight."

   I spread her legs as she lay prone on the bed, and knee-walked until I
was in range of my target.  Resting on one hand, I guided my cock to the
damp portal of her vagina.  This angle drew another moan and shudder from
Talibah as my glans swept over her G-spot on its inward plunge.  I
insinuated my hand beneath her and found the hard nubbin of her clit with a
pair of pussy-moistened fingers.

   My dusky-skinned lover's hips cocked upward to allow me greater access
as my rod impaled her, then withdrew, only to stab inward again.  Talibah
was cumming non-stop as my fingers slipped and slid alongside her clitoris
and the bottom of my shaft set up friction on her G-spot.  Working my other
hand beneath her chest, I sat back on my heels, bringing the young Afghani
to her knees, fully impaled on my spear.  With one hand working her clit
and the other pinching and tugging at her nipples, I drove her repeatedly
to climax before jamming her pussy hard onto my staff and unloading within
her!

   As we collapsed sideways onto the bed, Talibah's face turned toward me
while her hands urged me to stay where I was.  She said nothing, but the
look in her eyes spoke volumes.  My own emotions were in turmoil, and the
tender kiss I gave her was only partly feigned.  She drifted off to sleep
with me spooned against her back, and soon, I joined her.  Somehow, it felt
comforting to have her there in my arms again, despite my distrust.

   We played tourist the following day, leaving the Citroen at the hotel
and walking across the river to explore the Cathedral and St.  Peter's
cemetery, made famous by the 'Sound of Music' musical when the 'von Trapp'
family supposedly hid there from the Nazi's.  Almost everywhere we went we
found pamphlets and flyers explaining the inaccuracies of the movie, but
capitalizing, nonetheless, on the notoriety it gave Salzburg.

   It was a strangely disquieting day for me, made all the worse by
Talibah's seeming gaiety.  She was flirty and affectionate, but my mind was
still troubled about the attack on Mei, and it was almost a relief when we
left behind the tourists and took the last run of the Festungsbahn - the
funicular railway that took us to the top of the rocky promotory occupied
by the Festung (Fortress) Hohensalzburg.  As the little car began its steep
climb up the hillside, Talibah turned serious.

   "You know," she said, "that neither Ghalib nor his CIA handlers have any
reason to want you to leave this place alive."

   "Fortunately," I smiled, "I do.  Since I can't be sure where you stand
in all this, though, it would be best if you stay where I can see you at
all times."

   "Still don't trust me, Darren?" she asked sadly.

   I looked into her dark eyes, wanting to say something else, but said,
instead, "Sex, for me, unlike in the movies, doesn't build trust.  Although
they may sound similar, lust and trust are separate concepts.  I want to
trust you, but I can't afford to."

   "I understand." Talibah replied wistfully, "Perhaps that will change.  I
hope so.  Do be careful, Darren."

   We toured the fortress for something to do, then made our way to the
museum, just before it closed for the evening.  The room designated for the
meeting had two doorways - one on the long wall and one, the one Talibah
and I entered, on the shorter end wall.  Two Americans were in the room,
along with Ghalib and two other men whose faces I couldn't see.  The center
of the room was occupied by glass cases displaying ancient swords and
armament.

   One of the Americans approached me and Talibah.

   "Let's have the weapons." He demanded, holding out a hand.

   I laughed in his face.

   He drew his own gun and grabbed my sleeve.  "I said, 'Let's have the
weapons!' and I MEANT it!"

   I quickly disarmed him and twisted his arm up between his
shoulderblades.

   "I heard you," I said calmly, "but I have a business to protect.  You
clowns have already tried to kill me once, and I'm damned if I'm just going
to hand over my weapons and let you try again!  Clear?"

   I gave his arm a little extra twist for emphasis and he grimaced,
grunting "Clear!"

   I shoved him away and tossed his gun back to him, leading Talibah to a
place where I could watch both entrances and the other occupants of the
room.  Ghalib was talking to the other two men who still had their backs to
me.

   Strangely, the unknown men kept their backs turned as Ghalib approached
me.

   "Give me the disc," he demanded.

   "I don't think so." I replied, "The price has doubled.  Call it
hazardous duty pay for the attempt on my life.  You show me the money, I
show you the disc."

   "We simply want to verify its authenticity, Mr.  Winchell." This from
one of the mystery men, still with his back turned.

   "Oh, it's authentic, all right." I told him, keeping an eye on the CIA
type who was trying edge around my peripheral vision.

   "YOU!" I pointed with my Beretta.  "Get back over to the door!"

   He did as he was told.

   "You'll forgive us if we don't believe you, Mr.  Winchell," The other
mystery man said.

   "Actually, no, I won't," I replied, sweeping the Beretta slowly around
the room.  "Frankly, you've got nothing to lose.  You pay me the money,
then you get the disc to verify before I leave.  If it's not authentic, all
you have to do to get your money back is kill me."

   Suddenly, the two strangers turned to face me.  I wasn't all that
surprised to see that they were Chinese.

   "Why don't we just kill you now, and save ourselves the trouble." One of
them said.  They were very similar in appearance, but not twins like the
Mei and Wei and Sun and Jun.

   I shrugged, "I'll get one or two or three of you before I go down, and
the survivors will have to explain the mess you made in this museum.  Much
easier and cheaper to pay me and let me walk away.  You can always kill me
later, if the mood strikes you."

   "I don't mind making a mess here," the other said, "do you?"

   Shit!  It was going to get ugly.

   "Well, if you're going to kill me anyway, at least satisfy my
curiosity." I said.  "What the hell are the Chinese doing mixed up with the
CIA and Al-Qaeda?"

   "This isn't one of your 'James Bond' movies, Mr.  Winchell!" One of them
laughed.  "We don't have a script that says we tell you all our secrets
before we kill you!"

   "Then tell us!" Came a female voice that I recognized.

   Everyone started to move as Sun and Jun made their presence known,
sending one of the CIA agents flying backward into the room.  Since my gun
was pointed in that direction, I shot the other agent as he tried to bring
his weapon to bear, then covered Ghalib before he could get his gun into
firing position.  Talibah stayed where she was.

   "Ah!  Finally!" One of the Chinese said jovially, "Our own Sun and Jun!
Did you not know that your government has been trying to contact you?"

   "We have had no reason to be in contact with them," replied Jun, "since
we are otherwise employed now."

   "Ah, but you see," said the shorter of the two, "you have a lifetime
contract with the People's Republic, and they want you back - or dead!"

   "So that's what this is all about?" I asked, still keeping my eye on
Ghalib.  "You set up this whole elaborate scheme as a trap for these
ladies?"

   "That was the original plan." Taller guy said, apparently proud of
somebody for laying out such a plan.  "But when our pet CIA boys discovered
the real reason that your little brown girlfriend there was staying with
Al-Qaeda, we knew that our soft-hearted bodyguards wouldn't be able to
resist the chance to rescue her mother.  We had hoped to get both of the
other two, but only Mei showed up, so we killed her before coming here to
get you two."

   "We know everything there is to know about you four, you see," chimed in
short guy, "even when Mei showed up alone, we thought that the little
psychic connection she has with her sister would have brought Wei to us as
well.  I guess she was too afraid."

   Jun and Sun cast glances at each other, but no emotion showed on their
faces.  Well, if they weren't going to correct these two, I figured I'd
just play along.

   "How did the CIA get involved?" My curiosity was getting the better of
my discretion, but they were still proud of themselves so tall guy
answered.

   "Our diplomats have been contributing money to members of your Congress
for years!" He laughed, talking to the twins instead of me, "So we
'persuaded' some of them to loan us a couple of your agents for this little
operation.  They already had poor Ghalib, here, on a leash, so it was easy
to create a smokescreen by having them steal the disc.  We knew at least
two of you would track it and isolate yourselves from your sisters, and
that would give us the opportunity to collect you or kill you.  The disc,
if you even have it, is worthless, isn't it?"

   "It was wiped before it got a mile from the building." Sun replied.

   "Pity," said short guy, "it would have been a nice little bonus to take
back to China.  But, we've got what we came for.  Will you go back with us,
or shall we kill you here?"

   In answer, Sun and Jun, standing on opposite sides of the case
displaying ancient swords, reached through the glass as if it wasn't there,
each coming away with a blade before the first shards hit the floor.  The
Chinese guys had brought their own swords.  I made as if to grab one for
myself, but Jun warned me back.

   "Stay out of this, Darren," she said.  "If you get involved, we must
protect you.  This will make it harder to defend ourselves!"

   I could feel my chi building, but I understood the validity of her
argument.  It was hard to stand by and do nothing, but I didn't want to
distract them.  If these guys were as good as the twins, they would need
every bit of concentration they could muster.

   With the first clash of steel upon steel, my eyes lost track of the
battle.  The men were as quick as the women, but had a slight edge in
strength and reach.  I noticed that Ghalib had let his weapon drop, so I
moved the Beretta to my left hand.  I got the switchblade from my pocket,
deciding that if I needed to kill Ghalib, I would use that to save Sun and
Jun's ears.

   As I strained to keep track of the battle, my energy became my eyes.  I
couldn't hope to follow every cut, thrust and parry, but the ebb and flow
of the four chis helped me see how the battle was going.

   At first, Sun and Jun's ability to fight as one allowed them to inflict
several cuts upon their opponents, but they were mostly minor.  As the
fight wore on, the superior strength and reach of the men began to tell. 
Sun and Jun were tiring, but the others still had reserves left!

   I don't recall having made a conscious decision or even having
considered what I was doing, but I noticed my chi reaching out to the
combined energy of the girls!  It touched, and suddenly, we were three in
one!

   I could see what they saw, hear what they heard, and feel - their
despair!  'NO!' My mind cried!  My chi surged and replenished the energy
surrounding the girls!  Jun felt it and renewed her attack on the shorter
Chinese, while Sun kept his bigger partner occupied.

   "You are incompetent assassins," Jun told her opponent as she drove him
back.  "Mei is still alive!"

   "And you know nothing about us," Sun continued the declaration.  "No
bodyguard would leave her employer in times of crisis, especially after her
sister was injured or killed!  That is duty, not cowardice!"

   Suddenly, Jun's blade found the opening it sought, and pierced her
opponent's heart!  Before his body hit the floor, she had turned to add her
blade to her sister's!

   "Kill him!" The remaining Chinese screamed at Ghalib.

   What followed takes long to tell, but it spanned less than a second! 
Sun, Jun, and I, in a bare fraction of a second, decided, without
conversation, that Jun would come to my aid, while Sun fought on. 
Meanwhile, Ghalib's arm was raising the gun, my finger was pressing the
button on the switchblade as my arm cocked for an underhand throw.

   As my hand came forward for the throw, Talibah's body launched itself in
front of me and Ghalib's finger squeezed the trigger!  The knife passed
under the girl's flying body about the same time that Ghalib's bullet
struck her!  As Talibah's body thudded to the floor, and the knife sunk
hilt deep in Ghalib's chest, Sun's sword, wielded with both hands, still
drawing on my body's energy, clove the steel of her opponent's blade, and
continued downward through his clavicle and sternum, cleanly separating the
halves of his still-beating heart!

   Through her eyes, I could see the look of consternation on his face,
overlaid on the bloody mess of Talibah's chest, seen with my own eyes as I
knelt beside her.

   "Why the hell did you do that?!" I asked in anguished anger.

   "I, too, made a promise." Talibah smiled.  "I promised myself that if I
ever found a man I could respect, I would never let him go.  I could not
let him kill you, Darren."

   Through my chi, I could feel and 'see' the energy draining from her
body. Suddenly, Sun and Jun were beside me.

   'We must get the bullet out and repair the damage!' was Jun's thought.

   Sun added, 'Use your chi, Darren!  We will help.'

   With their guidance, I 'reached' into the wound and found the misshapen
lump of metal.  Sun and Jun guided me in 'pushing' the foreign metal from
Talibah's body, then showed me how to seek out and close the worst of
Talibah's wounds.  The bleeding slowed and Talibah, though unconscious,
continued clinging to her life.

   To my surprise, when I finally looked up, the room was filled with
people whose clothing bore the logo of Gemini Security - the security
company run by Hastings' bodyguards!

   "This one needs immediate medical attention!" Jun was telling them,
pointing at Talibah, "The rest of us need food, quickly."

   That was when I realized that I was near passing out, as were the two
girls.  The energy bars they gave us took the edge off, and allowed us to
walk out of the fortress on our own, to find a van waiting partway down the
winding path to the bottom.

   "What about the evidence..." I started to ask, but before I could
finish, Sun's thought interrupted.

   'The CIA will clean it up.'

   Then Jun added 'They would not want their association with the Chinese
to become public.'

   'Wait!' I interjected, 'You need those bodies, or at least the heads!'

   They could see what I was thinking, and that I had understood what they
would do next, and agreed, dispatching a couple of their people to retrieve
the heads of their Chinese attackers.

   That was when it occurred to me that the link we had established during
the fight was not going away!  For better or worse, Sun, Jun, and I were
now a trio!