Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.15

Act Two Scene 3 Part 1

The celebration was all merry making and joy, with the patrons all taking their fill of the food and drinks. The three wenches had lived to their reputation with the rounds of drink they drew onto the men. Glauco was smiling while watching his three wenches have their gala fun. The more fun they have, the more coins would be slipped into his purse. He had also invited three more other ladies who was also plying their trades there, with his share of one third of their takings. His other assistant was standing at the corner blowing the trumpet, much unheard by the drinking crowd, but for those who did, it was a nauseating impression of a musician would had been their conclusion.

"How much to stop him blowing?" One of the Centurions asked Glauco. The later raised his hand with the number of fingers to denote the coins.

"Let it be, for I am going deaf with his noise." The Centurion impart the coins and was dragged away by others to join in the drinks.

As the day draw to darkness, with many of them seen retreating to their homes, or laid on the seats which held their slumbering mood to the next dawn. Not all was intoxicated; they had other agendas.

"Cassio, are you sober?" Othello holding his love in the arms. The Pilus was seated next to the Governor aide, as expected of his nature. Cassio stood up when his Legatus called him.

"I am, Legatus." Cassio smiled at him. "I could hold more than the two goblets consumed. How about you?"

Cassio winked at the Legatus. He shifted his look to the lovely lady holding her lover arms.

"I am fine. Never finer in my days." Legatus smiled. "I may need you to firm on my legs. See to the men. Rotate them. Move a new cohort out."

"Aye, Legatus." Cassio saluted his superior. "Just in case, you are overly concerned. I already got Iago on the guard rotation. He would do a good task of it."

At that moment, Iago walked in looking for his drink. Othello smiled at the Praefectus. 

"Hold the Legion for me." Legatus told him before he took the steps on the staircase. Iago replied.

"Aye, Othello." The man was obviously forgetting his rank but Othello left him to the temporary lapse of memory. Othello then left the flooring to the drunks and yet to get drunk. Iago was to take his drink when Cassio approached him.

"Iago, you are on guard. Hold the drink." Iago looked to the Pilus who smell of the wine he had consumed. In his mind, if you can drink why can't myself. I had fought with more in my body; and even killed more than when he was sober.

"Hold on, Pilus." Iago told Cassio. "I have two of the Montana' aide, Lucius and Mathias to hold a private ceremony with us. Something of a personal thank you for us. The unsung heroes."

"Please no more drinks. I have drunk two of mine, watered to suit my lack of tolerance for it. Now you tell me that I am drink more." Cassio tried to change his Praefectus mind but the thought was interrupted by the entrance of two staggering men in toga.

"Ah, the Praefectus is here. So is the .....what his name?" The one name Lucius asked. He approached Cassio. "You owed us some drinks."

A goblet was thrust into the Pilus' hand. He was obliged to drink, being the next leader in the lineup. Iago pulled away while the three saw down to drink. Iago watched the three and smiled In his mind, Iago saw Cassio drinking; the undiluted version, and would be drunk soon. Like all drunks, he would forget himself. With that, he would be a child to lead to the play pen. He would make a fool of himself.

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.10

Part Two

The Mistress and the Squire reunited

2.1           Geranium packs it

Brother Sergei loaded the last bag on the ancient wheeler that belonged to the Faith. It was designed like a six seater with the engine powered up to run over all terrains at eight miles per hour maximum; superb suspension and wider wheels with a set of automated mounted phaser on its rooftop. That was ten years ago when its was the named Land Lion of Europe, but now due to lack of spares, and battered over the years, it was not renamed the Meeky Mice of Europe 

"Sergei, don't tell me, we are traveling with this heap of metallic scrap." Geranium rode up her double wheeler machine next to Sergei.

"Meeky may not be much to lot at," The vehicle was in need of a new coat of paint and some accessories, "but she is a monster on the trails. I have upgraded the suspension and fine adjusted the engine with the new power cells. I also placed in more supplies. And praying books. We may need to read at some time."

The vehicle ran on solar converted energy packs, which recharged daily in the sunlight. Her rotary cannon fires a deadly streak of metal projectiles which Sergei had loaded in a thousand rounds in the modified ammo rack. He was not leaving much space for extra passengers.

"I saw you installed in the Sonar Disrupter Unit." That unit fires a concentrated wave of sound waves that could deter off an attack by wild creatures. Its effective range was a hundred and fifty yards distance.

"I am a pacifist when it comes to killing the innocent creatures." Sergei told her.

"How are you with your personal defense?" Geranium asked of her companion. "I doubt you can chase them off with your story tales although they can be pretty boring."

Geranium ought to know as she grew up listening to him telling it very night; from the Biblical tales to the adventures of the Crusaders, from the First Crusade to the new ones with the adventures of Sir Gerald Black.

"Aye, I have my cross, my holy water and also my bible." Sergio then pat his shoulder holster where he had in there was a ancient Colt Army M1892 with the 6 inch barrel once wore by army officers in the older wars. His pistol held a six shot cylinder. It was chambered in .38 Colt, a center fire design containing charges of up to 150 grains of fine grained black powder and a silver blunt round nosed bullet. Sergio believes his parents were killed by Vampires. "And my .38 with me. May peace come to them when they get shot."

Geranium laughed at Sergio as she knew he was adept at that revolver and made the bullets himself. His shoulder strap holds twenty spare bullets and there was another hundred and fifty in the bags somewhere. The priest also holds a .38 Snub a standard barrel of 1-7/8 inch length at his right boot.

"What about yourself? Your phaser extra energy packs are with me." Sergio pointed to the vehicle. "I always knew you were bad in your packing."

"I have my energy whip with me." Geranium points to the right wrist where on mind activation, a long twenty five feet length laser whip would appeal. It can tear into anything its touches. "If not, I can always rely on you."

Sergio smiled again. It’s nice to feel wanted. He looked at the long rectangle box beside his seat. He would give it to Geranium when its time.

"Sergio show me how do I begin?" Geranium pulled her companion to the dining area of the Cathedral as their journey was only to start later in the day. 

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.14

Act Two Scene 2 Part 1

The harbour was all laid out in lively colors, with the stores all adorned with flowers on the doorways while tables are laid out in the front with food and drinks. The people of the harbour had come out in the droves to celebrate the occasion. Men, women and children were out there, with some of the legionnaires placed on duty at strategic corners, for the Legatus does not liked surprises on his celebration. Pilus Cassio had seen to it that one cohort was on duty. There was one who was all jubilant on the ceremony. He was the Governor aide, Montana and standing there on street facing the tavern where the hero was resting. He was getting restless with all the waiting. He looked to the Pilus, and asked the other.

"What is keeping..." His question was cut short when he saw the Legatus stepping out. "Here he is." 

"Here is our noble and courageous Legatus. He had destroyed the tribesmen, and now he is here as our hero. He wants us to be happy, be merriment, make good of the fun." Montana then noticed the lady who stepped on from behind the Legatus. "Here is his love now. They are here to also celebrate their love with us."

Everyone cheered. Montana then sound the harbour bell to signal the celebration.

Prologue 11

"I am Legatus Othello. Your army is defeated. I am here to speak to you on your surrender." Legatus spoke to the long haired bearded tribesman seated before him on the stool. The other was wounded in the right shoulder and on his left thigh. He was stripped of his animal hides that he had worn over his body. His chest armor and weapons were removed while they had binded his arms to the rear.

"My name is Cartila son of Tartila." The tribesman swept his hair from his face by shaking his head. "You caught us in the storm. My people feared the storm; the noise and the fire its spewed. Its Zeus fury on us."

"Yeah, Zeus had placed his wrath on you." Othello told him.

"Did he send Lucifer to scarred you?" The tribesman asked Othello. "You wore one that resemble his face."

Othello was taken aback by the question. He reached for the mask with his hand, and noted that it was intact. He looked to the tribesman.

"I am offering you to go back in peace. You and your elders with the women and children, but your young male ones would be kept as slaves." Othello told him. "Lest they come back and attack us."

"No, I would not agreed. I would prefer death to slavery." The tribesman replied.

"With that, you would not have any to go home with." Othello looked to the tribesman. "Give me a reason to pacify the people here. They feared you coming again. Give me something to work with."

"Why are you being kind?" The tribesman asked. "Was it because of your amulet?"

Othello was taken aback. He reached for the amulet and noticed it was hanging outside his tunic. He held it in the hand and looked at the other.

"What do you know?" Othello asked.

"Only if you agreed to my condition." The tribesman told Othello. Othello looked at the tribesman. 

Preys & Predators III 1.4. ( for mature readers only. )

Police Killer

I huffed on the cigar while moving my hips to accommodate the lady administering pleasure for me. I moved it forth and back, pushing myself ever deeper into her mouth before I released my pent up desire in.

“Aargh!’ I screeched off before I pulled out. I looked down to the lady on her knees there, with her lowered corset showing her breasts. She was new to the casino, and had caught my attention when I walked past her in the corridors. She was the cigarette lady offering anyone a smoke, but I had my own desired smoke. Don’t lay your tears for them; these ladies had done their shares of other works to get this job as the cigarette lady. I stepped away before I hitched up my pants. I buttoned up while the lady got up from her knees. She pulled up the corset over her breasts and wiped away at her mouth.

“Move back to the Gambling Hall.” I passed her the two dollars tip for the smoke. “And keep them smiling.”

The lady collected her dues and then picked up her cigarette box. She strolled out with her hips swinging. I wanted to call out to her but decided to drop it. After all, who cares if your panty is nipped too tight up the arse. I checked myself on the body length mirror there in the changing room. The dark striped Zoot three pieces suit overlapping below my knees was my favorite. Its extra length allowed for me to conceal my machine gun then but of recent need I had hidden pockets to conceal the short stubbed .38 revolver. It was a FitzGerald Special two inch short barrel with five shots. The revolver had the hammer-spur removed making it a favorite with the shooters. I had two of it, silver coated on the surface.

The lady left the room but she did close the door. I saw then the other ladies walking in to get change. They had the courtesy to wait outside while I was in session there. I knew all of them well; they had all bowed or bent for me. That was my orientation to work there.

I ignored the ladies and followed close behind towards my personal office of mine. It came with my position as the Money Lodge Casino owner. I walked along the wide window on the mezzanine floor to view the action below. I got fifty tables out there, playing crap to dices. Every one of those tables was occupied and most of them were losing to my rigged tables. Sure, there will be the occasional shout of the lucky player, but most time, they were my own henchmen paid to excite the tables. I saw my bouncers moving among the crowd to remove the trouble makers.

“So please brief me on the development.” I looked to my lieutenant seated on the settee before the edge wall. He was enjoying the prohibited fermented drink in his right hand while his left hand held the Cuban cigar. I saw his drink and frowned.

“Damn you, Paul.” I took a deep huff on the cigar smuggled in by boats from Cuba. “Can’t you drink the decent stuff like all of us?”

“Carl, I like my moonshine anytime to your fermented grapes.” Paul Derringer was my elder brother; the brawn of the family and then the enforcer for my business. “Regarding the Accountant hussy. I have closed the books for you.”
 

I smiled on hearing that. Shelley was a good accountant, and lover. She thought that with me in between her legs, I was her to command. No one tells Carl Derringer how to behave. I had her bare ass thrown out of my bed, and for that she took the books. She tried to blackmail me and when that failed, she sang to the blues. I send the best to clear her blues.

“The books, Paul?” I asked.

“We cannot find any books in her place and also at the safe house. We are still looking.” Paul replied.

“Then find it or ..” I held back my tongue on the last word. Paul knew what was on my mind, but he was family, so that did not apply here.

“I would get it for you.” Paul replied and then stood up. He carried out the container containing the moonshine made by our family in the backwaters woods. 

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.9

Prologue 1

The False Prophet sat on his throne in the Palace of the once Royal Family of the Euro Nations. The United Continents was formed five years ago in retaliation of the all powerful Euro Nations, and in the spate of three years, the United Continents became an equal threat and declared war. The war was fought on four fronts was fought in the conventional way, until a renegade nation fired off the first nuclear bomb. It sparked the war onto a different level, and two continents were laid to waste within days.

"Prince Nordstrom," The false Prophet heard his declared name called on by the puppet he had placed on the seat as the Chairman of the United Continents. The Prince moved from the window where he was watching the once beautiful courtyard of the palace, and then was covered with armor vehicles and troops of his personal command. There were tanks, missile launchers and personnel carriers.

"Your division had trampled up the gardens, and above all, they are demolishing my supplies of food." President Diego, Chairman of the United Continents complained of the prevailing conditions. He had commander the position with the influence of the other, removing three others who were in the running before.

"Muller, please focus on the mission on hand." Nordstrom told off Diego by his given name. "We had words that the Faith had sent signals to re-group the Crusaders."

"Those bunch of mis-fits?" Diego hit back. "They had been ineffective for some time. So why worry on them?"

"The Crusaders had stopped a number of our previous missions, and are very skillful. More to it, they have proven to be resourceful." Nordstrom replied. "You had been a member of the Cult to know the tales of the Crusaders."

"And we had executed a number of them in this war, and would hunt more of them...." Diego was adamant of his success.

"Not when these are the original Crusaders; their descendants are carrying the cause. We had always failed against them. They are protected by the Council of Angels."Nordstrom replied back. "I had sent for teams to remove them."

"Aren’t you getting.....?” Diego was cut off by the other with a sharp telepathic blow to his lower torso. He went down on his knees, and looked up to the Prince.

"Don't question me again" Nordstrom pulled back his blow. "I would take care of the Crusaders. You continued on as the Chairman and complete this war. I am getting tired of these resistance groups of the United Euro. Take them off the map."

"Get me Colonel Drak. I would get the special one to travel with him." Nordstrom told the Chairman. "Meantime, I would be in the dungeons unless you have good news for me.”

Diego shuddered at the mentioned of the dungeon as he had heard tales of the place, although he was forbidden to go in. It was cursed and only the demons dwell there.

Preys & Predators III 1.3. ( for mature readers only. )

Detective

I tried to read the stacks of report on his desk while his ears rang with the painful statement by the Cleaner. I disliked that lady and had wished she was one of those I could dragged to the cells. She had overplayed the incident with the cousin. All I did was asked that she gave some leeway in a soft loan but in return, she had given them an impression as if I had dunked her in the rear. Yes, I did delayed in my repayment then, and held back on the last portion. Money was tougher to get with the criminals I hauled short of the cash. I had to make do with whatever I could find, or stopped paying on the dues. I was upset that day; no collars on the street and another turn off by the lady made me a bad nasty bastard.  That soon changed recently, I am loaded with cash. It does not matter where and who paid me, but it was money.

I cursed at myself then when the cleaner left that day. She had rubbed my ego in hard. I had eyed Sal for some time then. It can’t be helped when she was seated across me with full glare of from the side. There she sat daily, scooping through the reports and other papers while stretching her legs. It was those legs I liked; long and tapered to perfection. She had them covered in the thin stockings and I could just imagine them dragged up to her upper thighs. Or was it one of those silk stockings that they wore over to the hips. She had the flat belly; not like my previous wives where they plunk out like loose flesh. Nay, Sal was not all bony when you looked further up to her chesty orbs. I could have sworn they would not droop when removed from the wired bra. I had seen those bras; it’s a wonder how these ladies believed the wires would do for their shapes. My best part of her was above it all; it was the sultry lips on her face. Those lips are meant to be kissed. I could just imagined my lips crushing hers’. Or if I lay myself flat while she suckled me like the lollipop.

I stood up and approached the holdings cells.

“Give me the keys to Cell Five.” I told the uniformed officer there who was seated behind the desk. His name was Nate, and was due for retirement in a year’ time. The Officer just pushed the set of keys over without looking up. I picked up the keys and walked to the designated cell. I got the cell door opened and stepped in.

“Hello, Clown.” The one seated there was dressed in that suit, but his latest gig was trying to rob a bank. He walked in to the Bank in his suit with a pistol. He was not taken seriously and got overpowered by the guards. It would have helped if he had bullets in his pistol, but he was the clown in the heist. He was roughed up then and sends on his way here. Since then he had been proclaiming that he was innocent. He claimed he was asked to go there to make the withdrawal on God’s order.

“Detective, I am innocent. I was there to withdraw the money for God.” The clown pleaded. I rewarded him with a fist into his red rubbery nose. I followed on with a few more to release my frustration. He fell down onto his knees but I kept on punching. I stopped when I saw my knuckles were bloodied.

“Clown, tell me of the truth.” I asked him. Most of these who ended up here had many tales to speak of and most of them were untrue.

“Fuck you!” The clown replied through his bloodied mouth. I disliked such profanities especially uttered by clowns. He may think its funny, but I can be more than funnier. I can be nasty.

“Good answer, bitch.” I laughed out and landed another punch on the Clown.

“I don’t care who I fucked, as long as they are compliant.” I smiled while unclipping my waist belt. “Laugh on this.”

The scream of the Clown could be heard but none was to be overly concerned on it. Nobody dare to intrude on me when I questioning the suspects. Soon I was back at his desk with the correct confession from the Clown. He won’t be doing any gig for any circus but maybe in the Penitentiary they give him the main stage. They loved to clown with the new kid on the block. I was to sit down when the Commissioner voice was heard.

“Nolan Price, I did not fucking laid you with the badge to sit around. Find out who iced the witness at the Ritx Hotel.” The Commissioner, who was at the other side of the Hall, voiced his command. All the other officers in the Hall pretended to be doing their tasks. No one wanted to do the case as it involved the one named Carl Derringer. The later was the biggest mobster in the city and had half the force in his payroll.

Except me.

I had him jailed once during his early days, and he never forgave me. Since then he had vouched that he would kill me one day. Maybe my death penalty was coming due. Either one of us would survived the next confrontation.

“Here, Nolan.” The folder was placed on my desk by the other detective.

“Fuck you, Milton.” I replied but the other detective had walked away. I cared not if he was my Chief.

Tweet...tweet..... 21/07/14... I'll be darned...

Coriolanus is coming to near completion. I am at the last passages, and shall be done in a day or two. Its close to the original play, different timeline, more subtle passages of sexual conducts ( Coriolanus was said to have gay annotations, so I lived that up with some of mine. ). Now the final part will be the toughest; to end the tale with the character strung up called for some creative words.

Just for info, I was reading on one other Shake' tragedies; nay it was not Romeo and Juliet, nor Macbeth, or King Lear, but one named Titus Andronicus.

Who's he? Try Google. That tale was claimed to be Shake' first play, and its content was gory, macabre and disgusting that the organizer of plays refused to play it for over a century. I am still reading the original play notes to get beneath it all in the manner of speech, but for one like me who had never read English Literature before; I find those words mind boggling ( and in some way educating too. ).

To write or not to write the above needs to be seen when I played those words into scenes in my mind.

Till then, I have Crusaders V; the New Beginning..... a different set of heroes working on God's crusade.

Or maybe Prey & Predators IV. The later I have in mind to do something really different; no guns and daggers, okay the sex will be retained ( ain't fun without the f.... pardon my murmurings there. ).

Or continue on Devil's Own II; the search for Noah.

These three unfinished tales were swimming in my head for sometime but let me complete and wrapped up Coriolanus. Till then, tally hooooo....

Cheers... and good night.

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.8

1.8           Micheal Smith III

The shooter with the rifle disengaged the hover pad locks on his leg and stepped off it. He walked the few steps to the four wheel vehicle under the cover of the larger boulder which was standing slanting to the side. Seated on the four wheeler vehicle was the companion of the shooter; an elderly man dressed in a brown overall with a baseball cap covering his balding head. The vehicle was a four wheeler build with an engine that can drag it to a top speed of a hundred and twenty miles on a straight but due to wear and tear; it does only eight max then. It also housed a comfortable suspension system for the comfort of the drivers and seats four but the rear seats now holds their weapons and ammo, with some food containers. The rear of the vehicle was the three exhaust pipes which dispel off the heat from the engine. The only setback of the vehicle was it lacks any doors or windows and missing the top shelter.

"Micheal, did you dunk it?" The driver of the vehicle who was slouching on the seat spoke up on seeing the return of the shooter. He sat up and pulled at the double phaser off his shoulder holster, and placed the phaser at the rear seats. His tall lanky frame fits the seat well, and he gunned up the engine while the shooter climbed in. The shooter frame was like the driver but shorter on the height.

"Head shot." The shooter told the driver. "Sam, you can click back to them. Bonus delivered."

Micheal placed the rifle at the rear in its leather bag, and then pulled the beret with the goggles off before placing that on the lap. Micheal then used the left hand to ruffle the hair on the golden blonde head so that it would fall long onto the shoulders. 

"Micheal, when you going to cropped the hair." Sam asked he moved the vehicle onto the trail to take them back to the city. "Heck, even the Colonel think you are a girl."

Micheal looked towards Sam and then checked the reflection of the face on the side mirror. He was young, just past his teens and even the freckled marks are still there. He was one of the youngest sniper in the Division; a mercenary group that hires out for supplies and gold. He does for them on a volunteer basis but only on those he thinks needed to be removed. He does not do civilians or woman with kids.

Michael’s a natural with the phaser from hand phaser to long range rifles; some said he was born to shoot. He was too young to join the soldiers in the war, but he was shooting at enemies target when he was thirteen after he got his hands on the discarded phaser rifle. The soldiers had killed his guardian then; Brother Percy of Moor. His only consolation was that he always speaks the last rites for his victims after he comes back from the tasks. It was his training at the missionary where he was raised.

"I got two droids too. Count that in as bonus." Micheal told Sam while he pulls on his music pack that looks like a coin in his hand. He held it and the vibrations from the music pack there would register the sound waves by his muscles into his ear drums.

"Eh, Micheal." Sam asked him back while checking the sensors that was reading for any signs of the enemies. "How many was there with the target?"

"Three?" Micheal then got the message as he turned around and saw the remaining droid was there on a four wheeler in pursuit.

"Darn!" Micheal reached for the bag marked 'launcher' and pulled out the two feet long shoulder launched vehicle missile launcher. He braced himself on the seat facing the pursuing droid.

"Bless me father once." The trigger button was pressed.

"Blast me father twice." The trigger button was released.

"Father be bless thrice." The metal missile from the launcher soared off in a tangent trajectory and blew the droid with the vehicle.

"Darn! I am good." Micheal shouted and then replaced the launcher before strapping in at the seat.

"You do realize that the cost of the missile was coming out of your end of the payout." Sam reminded the young shooter.

Soon they were back at the Division Camp, where the two hundred odds mercenaries are gathered there for the frontline assault at the United Continents camps in nearby Munich. The United Continents have brought a contingent of their soldiers with supplies there last week, and the mercenaries were assigned to battle them. The enemy strength was expected to be at least four hundred strong but the mercenaries are holding the trump card of hitting before the enemies are assembled to fight;

"So you are back." Major Burnside; formerly an officer of the United Europe but now a mercenary and sometimes patriotic fighter greeted the return of his youngest sniper.

"I read the report. Your task had taken care of the scouts. But we were surprised that there were droids." Intel in this war was unreliable and at times misleading. More so with these individual packs of mercenaries. "But we have a task to perform. It’s our crusade to remove these infidels from our land."

Micheal sat up and looked at the departing Major. He looked towards Sam and spoke to him on the concern.

"The Intel could be the decisive matter to this coming battle." Micheal told Sam.

"I know but the Major wants to hit them before they are ready." Sam replied. "You were good at handling the droids. I hoped they are too. Are you coming along?"

"Nope, I promised the young ones, I would be there with them for prayer." Micheal got off and rushed off to the Missionary which was an hour by hover pad. Just before he departed, Sam passed him the rifle with some ammo packs.

"You keep this. You may need it." Sam told him and then drove off. 

Preys & Predators III 1.2. ( for mature readers only. )

Late 1920’s

1.

Police Clerk

The backwater roads were hardly used in those days, when the law took overly concern on it for bootlegging activities. The law kept most of their men there; patrolling the roads, maintaining roadblocks and manning the intersections. It was these diversions that made the law in the needed areas became a concern of the communities. The criminal cases have escalated but the new Police Chief had directed that the records be wiped out to avoid the pressure from the sponsors to his re-election as Chief. It was then, I was the Police Clerk in the same precinct; a paying job with a secure future while all I do was sit behind the desk to file reports.

Or in some cases, trashed the ones he does not want to be filed.

I read the latest ones that arrived on my table. It was a set of murders in downtown. Someone from the organized crime had just done a heinous crime. There were three victims; a male and two ladies. They were all shot with   shotgun, with multiple wounds each. It would have been ignored but there were two police officers along with the witness. The witness was to appear on the trail of a mobster who was sloppy in the killing.

“Hi Sal, are we on for the dinner tonight?” That was hard cased Detective Nolan Price, who had just sailed towards my desk. Nolan was all muscles and tall in the imitation striped suit favored by the mobsters. It was a gray flannel double breasted suit with matching pants. His shoes was dark brown leather while the fedora was black over his balding scalp. He had been in that precinct for over ten years, after a stint of five doing the street beat. He moved up due to his brutal attitude towards the ones he caught. The Commissioner was all for him as long as he does not let the press picked up on his doing. He had married twice and divorced, and then was planning on making me his number three on the list.

“I would need to do a rain check, Nolan. My…” I feigned an excuse while adjusting my round rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of my nose. 

“I know, Sal. Your Mama is in town. I wondered when you would ever invite me over.” Nolan leaned over my desk to get his view down my blouse. I was used to it, and gave him an eyeful on occasions. That morning, he won’t get my much with the neck high vest I wore beneath my dark blue uniformed blouse but I left him to imagine his way into it.

“Gangway for the Trasher.” The voice bellowed from the rear of Nolan. He stepped back and gave me a slight bow before moving back to his desk.

“Another full basket.” I smiled at Patricia who was the cleaner in the Precinct. She was into her work dressing; the shapeless overall with the rubber boots. She resembled more like a working lady on the production line then a cleaner. Major part of her tasks was to pick up our trash cans or whatever we discarded on the floor. I always felt guilty having mine overflowed with my poor typing and bundles of memo. She was smiling and then laughed with her hand over the mouth.

“Sorry, Pat. I promised not to spill it over.” I laughed with her. I reached down to help her clear it and placed it into the can.

“Don’t be Sal.” Sal was my nickname. “Let me clear that for you. If there would be any spill over, it will be Nolan’s saliva. He’s all over you, and your tits.”

I smiled at Patricia for her reference to my perky set of flesh. I had seen it myself on the mirrors. I loved my side view with the cantaloupe design that perked up. For the unwanted audience I had it all braced up with the new wired bra and wrapped in a tight vest.

“Pat!’ I mimic the sound of a squeaky clean girl being told her panty lines were seen while I pushed my chest forward. Patricia laughed at my antics.

“Oh! Not that I am competing for yours. I got my own bull blossomed apples on my own.” Pat paraded to  the front of my desk with her chest strained against the overall. She was past my age group and was without any family was what I knew then.

“When would you ever get Nolan to bury his ego inside you?” Pat asked me with a mocking tone while she stretched up her frame upright before me. She had done up her frame in a sexy pose.  “He must be tired with his own ministration.”

I covered my laugh while Pat bellowed on.

“I wonder he does that himself or get some perverts on the beat to do him.” Pat blinked her eyes towards me. She had told that she disliked Nolan for his brutal attitude. She knew of his acts in the cells to extract a confession of anyone. Once she had her cousin in and had to compromise with Nolan for his kindness. She had regretted it since then. When she had the chance, she made sure her voice could be heard by the other section on her displeasure.

“C’mon Pat, be charitable. You could just laid down and have yourself a merry time. He ain’t that bad looking.” I mocked at the cleaner.

“Me? Pardon me but my broom handle would suffice for my needs.” Pat replied before she paraded off with her hips rolling side to side. I had a good laugh at the walk and looked over to Nolan. He was buried in his works or pretending to ignore us with our ladies gossips. 

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.7

1.7           Helmut Volt of Bavaria

The man woke up when he felt the coldness on his flesh. He looked at the fire he had stoked earlier, now only embers on the broken flooring of this great castle. He pushed himself up and adjusted the layer of rags so that the cold draught would be more tolerable. It had been weeks now since he had stayed here; once his home and now ruins among the many others that laid the land. He walked to the fire place with some pieces of wood that he had collected, and placed them there before he stoke the fire up again. He looked at the dead wolf which he had cut up into chunks and now the juicy parts hung over the smoked section he built to keep the meat preserved. It was also his bait for the creatures to come in so he can eat them fresh. The fur of the wolf lies at the corner but it would be days of tanning before he could placed it with the others.

He walked outside of his tower and stood there by the ruined walls looking down to the valley at the lighted settlement. It was once a city named Rosenheim, in the Bavaria state. The castle does not rival that of the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria, but it was home to his family for generations. The last war took its toll on these castles as perceived would be used as strongholds for resistance. The bombing of the conventional bombs leveled most of them or tore them like his to resembled uncompleted work of arts.

Helmut left the settlement as he favored the lonely life there, with his own thoughts. He was once a soldier of United Euro; fighting the war for it against the United Continents. They were at a disadvantage with the long borders. He was in the armored division fighting his battles in the iron clad vehicles with the multitude of weapons. Their superiority in the armored was bested by the air superiority of the United Continents. Soon the tides of war changed and they were beaten at every battle by other sides. He had seen many of his men died screaming for mercy from God for their sins, but there was none to be showed them that, except the fast reaction of the chemical weapons.

Once the war was down, and the land ravished, the land at United Europe was declared unwanted as the winner side withdrew its Just when the survivors thought they could re-built, the second plague of the war was on them; evolved creatures were released on them by the United Continents. These creatures became predators and attacked the survivors. More screams of mercy from God were heard but like before, there were none. These creatures are the result of biological advancement became their torture tools. Domesticated creatures once gentle became vicious predators with their tainted genetics and enhancement. The land of United Europe became a hunting ground for them. Even God would cringe at the works on his subjects.

Helmut felt with his left hand on the hilt of his Broadsword; an heirloom of the family. It was claimed that the broadsword was the original Excalibur; the blade would cut anything it touches, mystical ones. He wanted to laugh but there was no sound to be uttered there. Then he heard the familiar sound of his metallic companion.

"You are activated?" Helmut spoke up.

"Yes, I am." The round orb that measures a radius of over six inches hovered before him. "Its unfortunate that my current source of power pack can only function for eight hours before it required re-charging by solar. So conservation was the option to ensure I am of service."

Helmut smiled at his metallic friend and companion. The orb was a standard issue to the officers of the United Europe Rangers, but its power pack was damaged in one of the battles, which reduced its efficiency to the limited hours. The unit then decided to maximize it’s time with the needed that of Helmut, four in the day and the other four at night before it goes to recharged mode.

"Did I miss much? My sensor picked up scents of blood." The orb responded with it mechanical voice.

Helmut did not bother to reply while he walked back to the tower. Soon it would be daylight again, and he was to carry the furs and skins down to the city. The furs and skins would assist in keeping some of the needed warm, until he compiles another load. It would give him time to say his prayers there, as it’s the seventh day of the week, if his memory does not deceive him. It was Father Joseph wished that he comes in for prayers, and also offered him the leather suit he was wearing now. His own uniform had long been discarded and now he wore this one.

Once he had donned the suit, Father Joseph had called him by nickname; Crusader. He smiled at the thought. It was years since he recalled the Crusaders adventures when he was seated on his father's lap.

"Helmut, you would one day be a Crusader like your grandfather and his before then." Baron Dieter was unable to be one due to an early age disease that ravaged his legs, but he had the good natured woman who cared for him to birth him this son. Marlene, Helmut’ mother died at birth thus leaving him to live with the man who was nurtured him as the next Crusader. But the war had stopped his aspiration.