The monocled one bent five degrees off center dragged his left foot behind him over the sand dune using his titanium cane. He was tired. A deep kind of tired. His youthful exuberance long ago expired like a sell by date on a pound of factory grown meat. He built his empire on commodities trading misery for profit and was celebrated inside the banquet rooms of dark power.
He was known as an exception to the rule.
His bald head evaporated droplets of sweat that fell onto his forehead then into his eyes. The monocled one removed a handkerchief and wiped beneath his hand woven hat. He put the moistened cloth back into his pocket and continued dragging himself up the dune. Exertion exacted a toll on the old man's ravaged body subsumed over the years by anger and loneliness. The effort was worth the risk because the inheritor of his empire on the brink of infinite power was near at hand.
The monocled one held high definition binoculars to his face and scanned the furnace floor made of sand. He was looking for a warrior engineered for shadow warfare, raised by the spoon of pain, and perfected for dictatorship on the sands of Pandemonium.
The prize was his and his alone.Of Deep Wounds
Syntoris peered into the raging red sky through his blood caked right eye. His right arm bled from shrapnel and his legs badly burned by the fuel air weapon. His body a derelict like the smoldering tractor trailers with their engines blown too smithereens by rocket propelled grenades. He was wrecked but not destroyed.
The stuff of civilization compressed in his palm. He squeezed until the veins in his good arm bulged like thick pipes.
Kilowatt lay next him. His blank eyes staring into nothing. His second-in-command was dead. Love's Goodbye
Frau599 lifted her stricken aircraft into thick air heated by the inferno falling below the horizon. Her Osprey OV-22 trailing smoke from its damaged right engine. She circled the field of fire and glass searching for a glimpse of Syntoris. She touched the window with all five fingers spread wide willing their sacred touch. She felt like her breath was taken away and her chest heaved.
Syntoris reached toward the sky from Pandemonium's basement. He wanted to touch her one more time when black walls collapsed around his senses. They were in a cabin located on a converted cruise ship anchored in warm waters beyond the reach of the Colonel. It was their first rest and relaxation since the beginning of the Black Banner campaign. Of course, Syntoris and Frau599, hid their secret at Camp Freedom lest anyone report them. However, certain personal liberties were extended to members of Thor's Hammer, no one questioned what went on behind closed hatches.
Officers and enlisted respected an unwritten creed when relaxing away from an area of operation, "What happens TDY, stays TDY."
Syntoris stood in front of the king size bed when a hot flush of wind pushed open cotton white curtains. Frau599 wore her favorite black sport bra and black thong. A simple freedom to wear what one wants was a pleasurable experience against continuous assimilation. Syntoris wore athletic boxer shorts and nothing else. She gripped his clean shaven face with both hands and gave him a never to forget kiss. They were breaking the Colonel's code of good order and discipline, "No officer shall fraternize with enlisted."
Frau599 and Syntoris Warr lived.
Syntoris reached for her black sport bra and removed it from her Olympian carved body. She nudged into his shoulder and inhaled the perfume of libidinous desire. His glandular system provoked into action produced a scent much like that of jasmine. He felt her immortal power surround him and Syntoris Warr removed her black thong. The flesh of two became one when a gust of exported hot wind swirled into the cabin from Pandemonium's furnace.
A chorus of souls road soft, invisible tendrils singing praise to the element of fire. Syntoris and Frau599 climaxed together. And, far beyond the reaches of mortality, a crack appeared in a granite pillar supporting the roof of Zeus's temple.Seasons Of Life
The monocled one limped toward Syntoris and jabbed his titanium cane into the rib cage of the man trained to fight in the shadows of the new century. Syntoris gasped.
He pressed the button on the bluetooth device secured to his ear, "Found him."
The pilot of the dirigible engaged four turbo fan engines and the vehicle rose from behind a sand dune about a half kilometer from the Monocled One's position. He pushed the joystick forward.
Frau599 pounded on the window helpless over the situation now unfolding within her air space. Too many wounded in need of urgent medical attention and her Osprey OV-22 call sign Eagle Claw teetered on the abyss of complete malfunction. She pitched the left wing a few degrees for a better view of the ground below.
A man knelt over Syntoris Warr. And, in that moment, he peered into the sky making what felt like eye contact. The glint of the monocle shone like a rescue beacon but Frau599 had to return back to Camp Freedom. This time, she couldn't hold back the tears, and Athena the goddess of wisdom and military victory wept with her.Camp Freedom
Two shot glasses of bourbon rested on the Colonel's field desk. He waited for her. His mind focused on executing program Forgotten and she was the last shred of script standing between retirement or court martial.
The Colonel call sign Odin lit a cigarette and waited.To be continued...73s from the shackadelic near the beach.
See Also.Dangerous Skies | The Rise Of Syntoris Warr Pt. iiiDangerous Skies | The Rise Of Syntoris Warr Pt. iiDangerous Skies | The Rise Of Syntoris Warr