Page 9 of Hot & Heavy

Hell and Valhalla! I am here, lackwit. "Nay. They were too appalled by what they saw. No sooner had I spoken than Abdul's manpart wilted… like a lump of butter in the hot sun. And no matter what Abdul did… or what Abdul did to me… and no matter how his eunuchs beat me, they could not get his manpart to rise again. Day after day, night after night, they tried, but nothing happened. They swore I had put a spell on his dangly part… dooming him to eternal dangling… and that is why Abdul sold me to another caliph."

Zena's eyes were wide with wonder, and her lips turned up in a barely suppressed grin. Perhaps she was not as dumb as she appeared. "And the next caliph?"

Madrene shrugged. "Once I realized what men feared most, I had a powerful weapon in my hands. I began to develop a performance, perfecting it with each caliph or sultan to whom I was sold. Not only did I say the words, but I waggled my fingers in the direction of their manparts. Betimes I would hum as I said my curse. 'Uhm, uhm, uhm!' I even twirled about one time whilst cursing, but I tripped and did not try that again."

"That is an amazing story," Zena said, eyeing her with admiration for the first time. But then her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Did you do the same to my husband?"

"I did." And, unlike Abdul, his was not huge.

"And did he wilt?"

Madrene nodded. Like a candle wick.

"But he has bedded me since you have come here."

"I told him the curse only involved me, but if he forced me, it would wilt forevermore, with all women.

'Tis the same story I give them all."

"And Fakhir believed you?"

"Listen, Zena, you are young, but there is one thing you will learn in time. When it comes to their manparts, men will believe anything." I recall the time a dairy maid told Ragnor that dousing his staff in honey would make it grow thicker. He had every bee from hides around chasing after him.

"Aren't you afraid I will tell my husband, and your sham will be over?"

"Nay, I am not. Because if you do, and if Fakhir takes me as his concubine, and if I please him, then it will be I who gets the trinkets, not you."

Zena studied her for a long moment. "Mayhap I will wait before disclosing your secret."

Smart girl!

Later that evening, after evading Gadi's lusty hands on several occasions—he was getting bolder and bolder—Madrene found herself on her knees outside in the bushes where she was supposed to be taking care of her bodily needs. "Dear God… father of the Christ whom my grandmother worshiped… I beg you for your help. Two long years have I suffered. Please deliver me from this captivity." It was a prayer Madrene had said on many an occasion, and she no longer had much hope. Still, she felt compelled to try.

But then, loud claps of thunder shook the skies and the earth trembled and quaked. The wind rose with a vengeance. Fakhir's tribe was running hither and yon, screaming with dismay as the skies opened with loud explosions of sound… thunder and lightning as she'd never seen before.

This is your chance, a voice in Madrene's head said.

She looked up at the roiling skies. Stunned, she whispered, "Thank you, God." Then, lifting her robe up to her knees, she ran and ran, off into the hills.

The skies continued to explode with light and sound. Madrene ran till she could run no more, a pain throbbing in her side, her breath coming in pants. For more than an hour she ran, even though she heard no one following her. They would eventually.

She saw a cave up ahead and knew she had to stop and rest. Settling into the darkened chamber, which was luckily empty of any wild animal, Madrene laid her head down to rest. She was not back home, not even close to Baghdad, where she might find a Norse longship willing to take her back to Norstead, but for the first time in three years, she felt safe.

A deep sleep overtook her then, and in her dreams she floated and floated and floated.

I'm fallin' for you, baby…

The entire team landed flat on their feet, their legs acting as springs to absorb the shock.

They dropped, rolled over and got up quickly. Then they collapsed their stealth chutes, balled them up and ran at a crouch toward a nearby stand of bushes. Within minutes they removed their helmets and jumpsuits, buried them and their chutes under a pile of leaves and rocks, then cammied themselves up.

Later, they would also put on black balaclava hoods with only their eyes showing, but the hoods were hot and not necessary yet. Some of them wore floppy hats. Others, like JAM and Omar, pulled their hair up under an olive drab, triangular bandana tied behind their heads. They all wore night-vision goggles, or NVGs, which wouldn't be necessary much longer since the sun was starting to come up.

Pretty Boy carried state-of-the-art Motorola SAT-COM radio equipment in his backpack. The satellite-based communication system, with its ability to encrypt messages, provided instant contact with anyone in the world, thanks to the Milstar satellite. Thus they were able to communicate with the chain of command at NavTel, at CentCom in Baghdad and SEAL headquarters in Coronado. In addition, for inter-team communication, each of them carried short-range Motorola radios with belt packs, lip mikes and ear pieces.

Each of them had infrared American flags on their sleeves which could only be seen with night-vision goggles. It was a good method for recognizing each other in the darkness of a covert operation.

All his men were geared up with a full loadout of weapons and ammunition. Many of them carried Colt M4 carbine rifles with all the bells and whistles of Special Operations Peculiar Modification (SOP-MOD) accessories.