O
Chapter 1
London, 2018
"Samantha Hood. Visionary, genius, and the prime example of British elegance. From an early age the daughter of the legendary weapons developer Samuel Hood, descended from the famous Admiral Hood, quickly stole the spotlight with her quick wit and brilliant mind, both in technology and in fashion design. At age six she created her very first dress. At age ten she built her very own motorcycle. At age seventeen she entered the Imperial College of London to study engineering while also becoming the youngest woman in Britain to enter the fashion industry."
"And then, Samuel Hood passes away unexpectedly. Family friend and ally Patricia Royal steps in to help fill the gap left by the legendary founder until, at age twenty-one, the prodigal daughter returns and is anointed the new CEO of Hood Industries. With the keys to the kingdom Samantha ushers in a new era for her father's legacy while also becoming a staple in the fashion world. In just three years she has created smarter weapons, advanced robotics, and satellite targeting systems. At the same time she has formed her own fashion company, creating some of the most beautiful gowns and dresses the world has ever seen."
"Today, at just twenty-four years of age, Samantha Hood has changed the face of both the weapons industry and the fashion world by protecting Queen and Country and by showing that any and every young lady can look beautiful. This is the legacy of Samantha Hood."
The audience gathered in dining hall applauded as the video came to an end. At a famous club in London an award ceremony was being held for the British icon.
Patricia Royal, vice president of Hood Industries, sat in the center table with a proud smile on her face as she clapped. When the screens darkened the spotlight centered in on the podium, where a tall and beautiful blond woman with shoulder length hair and dressed in a Royal Navy officer's uniform stood holding the award meant for Lady Hood. The woman stood proud as she waited for the crowd to finally quiet down.
"As liaison of Hood Industries I have had the honor of serving alongside one of Her Majesty's most loyal subjects," she began, "She is my friend and she has been both a mentor and a great inspiration to me. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to present this year's Apogee Award to Lady Samantha Hood!"
Music began to play as the audience clapped again. Then the seconds began to drag and people started looking around, wondering where the guest of honor was.
"Samantha?" the officer's red wine colored eyes scanned the entire room, trying to keep her annoyance from showing.
But Lady Hood was nowhere to be seen. She glanced over at Patricia, who slowly shook her head.
I am going to kill her! her mind screamed while she forced herself to keep smiling.
Suppressing a grin Patricia got up from her chair and went to the podium. It wasn't the first time something like this happened so she was well prepared for this type of situation when it called for it.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," she took the award and shook the officer's hand.
"Thank you for the save," the woman whispered back, eyes furious as she scanned the room again before stepping aside.
Patricia took a moment to look at the award made of crystal glass, "This is beautiful. Thank you. Thank you all very much. This is wonderful!"
She waited for the crowd quieted down again.
"Well, obviously I'm not Lady Hood. Although I wish I was," the crowd laughed, "But if I were Samantha I would tell you how honored I am and how overjoyed to receive such a award. You know, the best thing about Samantha is also the worse thing."
As she rambled on the officer spotted Lady Hood's driver and head bodyguard standing near the edge of the stage. Without hesitating she marched straight to him.
"Where the devil is your master?" she hissed.
The man only grinned and said, "This is the Les Ambassadeurs Club, Ma'am. Where do you think she is?"
The Les Ambassadeurs Club was one of most famous clubs in London. Located in Mayfair it was famous for three reasons. The first was the building's beautiful architecture and its Louis XV style interior. The second was it had been used for two music videos for The Beatles.
The third reason was that it was also served as the setting of when James Bond famously introduced himself for the first time in cinema by saying those famous words. History was about to repeat to itself as a game of Chemin de Fer was starting to become interesting.
At the table the game was currently being played between a young man and a young woman. The woman was currently designated as the banker and dealer while the man was the punter. Right now he was losing to her. Whether it was because he was playing poorly or because the young lady was having all the luck in the world right now was a mystery. Putting in what he had left, he took a moment to study her as she dealt the cards.
She was a beautiful woman in her twenties. Her golden hair was pulled around to where it dangled over her right bare shoulder. She wore a scarlet red dress that was clasped over her left shoulder by a gold pendent holding a single emerald gem. Diamonds hung from her lobes while a silver band decorated onyx gems surrounded her left wrist.
Her face, her charming smile, and the fairness of her skin was a prime example of classic English beauty, but it was her eyes that was her most mesmerizing feature. Lake blue in color and fathomless, all it took was one look to fall into their depths.
When he lost the next round he placed in what he had left, asking the dealer if the house would cover the difference. Once he was assured the the lady dealt the cards again and then pulled a perfect nine.
He shook his head in frustration, "I need another thousand."
As he began to write down a check for additional money he caught a glance of the woman's lips rising in before she spoke in a voice that matched her beauty.
"I admire your courage, Mister...?"
"Trench. Sylvester Trench," he handed over the check to the cashier behind him, who placed down the chips, before turning his attention back to the young woman, "I admire your luck, Miss...?"
The woman's smiled deepened as she introduced herself, "Hood. Samantha Hood."
The man named Sylvester Trench smiled back, "Lady Hood. Forgive me not recognizing you right away."
Which, of course, was a lie. He already knew who she was, had seen enough pictures of her, but suddenly he felt like teasing her and she seemed to like it.
"No offense taken."
He then started feeling lucky tonight, "Miss Hood, I don't suppose you care to... raise the stakes?"
At those words her eyes twinkle. Apparently she loved a challenge.
"I have no objections," she accepted.
Trench looked over at the dealer, who gave his approval. He placed a higher than usual bet on the table and looked at Hood straight in the eyes.
"Now..." he placed his hands together and waited.
Both players kept their eyes on each other as Hood matched his bet.
"It seems you're out to get me," she flirted as she dealt the cards.
"It's an idea at that," Trench looked at his cards, "Eight."
Hood turned over her cards and revealed that this time she had the losing hand. Trench grinned in triumph as they applauded and raised his brow at her.
She gave little nod in return before she felt a hand grasp her right shoulder, almost in a vice grip. She felt a presence to her left and she turned to see her good friend Patience Olivia Wales, dressed in her Royal Navy uniform, looking down at her with a stiff smile, narrow eyes, and looking very cross.
"You. Are. Unbelievable," she said through gritted teeth.
"Ah, Ollie! How nice to see you. Did they drag you into this?"
She turned her attention back to the game, grinning as she sensed her friend fighting to keep a hold on her temper.
"No one dragged me into this," she said, "but they did tell me that if I provided you with an award you'd be deeply honored."
"Of course I would, seeing that it's you," Hood placed her bet while winking at Mr. Trench, who sat there quietly laughing.
"You do realize that that there was a ceremony tonight here in your honor?"
"I didn't forget," Hood dealt the cards, "So when does it start?"
"It already happened," Patience placed the award on the table in front of Hood.
"Oh, my!" she exclaimed sarcastically and lifted it up for all to observe, "Would you look at that? That is very beautiful. It's not like I don't have a dozen of these already. Than you so very much, Ollie."
"Don't call me Ollie!" her friend's cheeks reddened, "It feels very awkward."
Hood grinned again. Patience preferred to be called by her middle name Olivia instead of her given one simply because she was anything but patient. "Ollie" was the name Hood had given her after she insisted that she stopped using her old nickname form their school days together and she loved to torment her with it.
"Would you like to play a few rounds?" she asked, "I can stake you."
"No thanks," Patience looked at the table in disgust, "You know I don't gamble."
Hood then lost again.
"See," she went on, "You just lost money for a very pointless reason."
"Oh, come now, Ollie. You need to lighten up and have some fun for once," Hood glanced at her watch, "Oh, dear. Is that the time? Forgive me, Mr. Trench, but I have to turn in early. Business tomorrow, you know. I hope we can play again."
Collecting her winnings, Hood stood and handed them to the cashier while Patience placed her fur shawl on her shoulders.
"A pity it had to end early," she mentioned as they walked together, "It was just becoming interesting."
"I really don't understand how you throw money away so easily," Patience remarked.
"Because that's what we do when we have too much of it."
Hood waited for her winnings to be cashed while Patience looked at her own watch.
"I have to depart," she announced before firmly reminding, "Don't forget. Scotland in two days."
"I'll be there."
"I'm serious now. Don't. Be. Late."
"I know."
Patience waved goodbye and left the club. Placing her money in her purse Hood left the famous club herself, escorted by her body guard and driver Henry.
"Excuse me, Miss Hood!"
She turned to see Sylvester Trench jogging up to her.
"Forgive my suddenness, but I'm actually a reporter working for-"
"Your Local Guardian," she answered for him, making him blink in surprise, "I know who you are, Mr. Trench. I read your report regarding the recent activity of the IRA. Very interesting."
"Oh," Trench had to take a moment to regain his composure, "Well then, would you be willing to answer a couple questions?"
"I'm afraid I can't since I have to go home right away," she then made a little smile, "However... perhaps you would like to join me for dinner at my place? Afterwards you can ask me any question you like."
She gave him the look and the man's eyes lit up as though his birthday had come early.
"That's... actually better than what I was hoping for."
Her smile widened and she extended her hand, "Tomorrow evening then?"
He took and bowed, his eyes locking on hers.
"I would be honored."
"Splendid. I'll send my driver pick you up."
Dover, Kent County
Two mornings later Lady Hood's secretary arrived at Hood mansion just outside of the famous port town of Dover. Getting out of his vehicle the young man paused once again.
Even though he had seen this mansion hundreds of times he always had to stop to admire it. Located near the famous cliffs of Dover Hood Mansion was a Victorian style home made of red brick and white window panes. Blue flowers or various species surrounded the structure. The strange color combination was what his boss described as her way of showing British patriotism, something he's come to admire her for.
He had been Lady Hood's secretary for almost three years. Originally from Gloucestershire he had graduated from Oxford with a degree in business management, spent year working as a broker before becoming dissatisfied with the job and left to seek better opportunities and for a chance to break in. Then he saw an ad in the newspaper about Lady Hood looking for a secretary. He had applied with very little hope and was surprised when she called him in for an interview.
At that time she had just been made the new CEO of Hood Industries. He had heard enough stories by the time he met her, but meeting her for the first time in person was an experience he would never forget. He knew that she was beautiful from all the pictures he'd seen, yet he was still stunned when he met her in person and saw it for himself.
He had dated a few girls throughout his teenage years and in college but they had all been overly concerned about their looks despite the numerous times he'd try to tell them that they looked pretty enough as they were, but they never believed him. It was the one thing that made him dismiss both dating and women entirely.
That all changed when he met Samantha Hood. Her natural beauty had surprised him. She didn't need to put on a great deal of makeup to show her beauty. She was born with it. Her honesty and kindness was what also drawn him to her. In the almost three years since he had become her secretary he had come to understand almost everything there was about Lady Hood.
He'd be lying if he wasn't attracted to the famous Samantha Hood. What man wouldn't be? But he was smart enough to know that any serious relationship between them was simply out of the question. She was well out of his league and she was his boss. He preferred to keep things professional between them despite all the teasing she would give him.
On the other hand, there were some things he highly disagreed with when it came to his boss. For instance, her lifestyle. Or rather, a certain aspect of it.
On that thought he turned back his car, reached in, and pulled out the clothes in the plastic covering he'd been asked to retrieve. It wasn't the first time she had sent him to the cleaners. He always woke up at a certain time and she would always call him at that precise moment to ask for a favor. Half the time it was for the dry cleaning, other times it was to pick up breakfast at her favorite local restaurant whenever she felt like it.
Then there were times when he was asked picked up something for one of her guests. Or more accurately, her overnight guest.
He couldn't understand why this irritated him so much. He wasn't against Lady Hood going to parties, gaming clubs, or special events concerning the wealthy, for that is what they did. He wasn't even against her being with men. He just wished she was more discreet about it. Whenever he confronted her by saying that she was being careless, she would just smile and say, "Art thou jealous?"
Which would annoy him even more. He wasn't jealous. He has no reason to be since her little liaisons never lasted anymore than a week at most and it was none of his business who she slept with. However, Lady Hood had a reputation that he didn't want to see ruin because of her carelessness. He liked his job and he wanted to keep it. Lady Hood was free to do whatever she wished with her life. And therein lay the rub.
With another sigh he heaved the dry cleaning over his shoulder and entered the house.
His annoyance reached a new height when he saw the special guest, dressed only in his shirt, boxers, and socks, test playing the grand piano that sat in its special place near the living room. He recognized him as the reporter from Your Local Guardian, having read the same article about the IRA recently. The bastard had a smug look on his face, as though he had just had the greatest time of his life, and he was suddenly visited with the urge to smash that face to a pulp.
Shoving away his emotions he watched as Mr. Trench take in the living room with a look of a child in awe of seeing something truly spectacular for the first time. His lips lifted a little. He had the same reaction when he entered this place for the first time shortly after it was remodeled.
The interior of Lady Hood's mansion was a mixture of 40s and 50s styling. Everything, from the floor to the walls, from the furniture to the lights, was made in vintage fashion. Even the flat screen TVs were custom made by Lady Hood herself to resemble the early TVs and radios of the 50s. The mansion as a whole was a work of art, as expected of the lady who owned it.
The reporter ran his finger down the the keys, listening to the sounds they made.
"Blimey, that's a beautiful piano."
Lance decided to make his presence known.
"That belonged to Lady Hood's mother."
Mr. Trench's head snapped around, startled by his appearance.
"She was very proud of it. I have your clothes here. They've been dry-cleaned and pressed," he pointed to the door behind him, "There's a car waiting for you outside. It will take you wherever you like."
The reporter regained his composure and stepped closer. His lips rose in a cocky smile, "You must be the famous Lance Holland. The one Lady Hood calls Lancelot."
Lance Holland felt his cheek twitch but he kept his smile polite, "I am indeed."
He really wanted to hit this imbecile.
"After all these years," Mr. Trench took his clothes, "Lady Hood still has you picking up the dry cleaning."
Behind his glasses Lance's eyes narrowed, but he kept his cool. If the man was looking for a fight he gladly welcomed it. He may be a secretary but his was no weakling. He was an expert in both boxing and judo after all and he always kept himself in shape.
"I do anything and everything Lady Hood requires," he coolly replied before smugly adding, "Including... taking out the trash."
He saw the man's lips twitch and he smiled. For a moment the two men stared each other down. While Mr. Trench was around the same size Lance was he doubted the man had ever been in a fist fight.
"Will you require anything else?" he politely asked.
"No," Mr. Trench swung his clothes over his shoulder, "I'll see myself out."
It was only when Mr. Trench was driven away that Lance was finally able to relax. It didn't last long for the instant the car disappeared his phone rang.
It was furious Lieutenant Wales, demanding to know where his boss was right now. He silently cursed at himself and quickly made his way downstairs. He'd forgotten that Lady Hood was suppose to be flying to Scotland right now. Typing in the pass code he made his way into the underground workshop.
Unlike the mansion the workshop down bellow was completely modern. This was the place where Lady Hood designed and built things from scratch, be it a weapon for the military or a device designed to help people. Hood Industries was mainly a weapons manufacture, but it was built and provided products for the civilian market.
Hood's workshop was state of the art, containing the latest and the very best of equipment and technology. In the center was several tables littered with tools and bits and pieces of parts for several different projects Hood was either working or put to the side for the time being. To the right was a computer station containing several different monitors and alongside that was a hologram projector that displayed three-dimensional images. To the right of that was a little lounge area used whenever a break was needed.
The workshop also served as a garage. At the far end of the shop where several vehicles and a pair of motorcycles, all of British makes that ranged from modern to classics. It included Hood's personal car, a blue McLaren 720S, and her father's prized vehicle, an olive green 1968 Jaguar E-Type convertible.
But perhaps the most unusual vehicle was the Churchill Mark VII tank replica Hood had commanded during her days at St. Gloriana Girls Academy when she participated in the sport of Sensha-Do. It was given to her both as a graduation and a thank you gift after she won the championship for them for the first time in many years. Hood had been overjoyed since she had really grown attached to the tank during her time in school. After garage was complete she proudly put it on display with pictures of her time in school decorating the wall nearby.
This was the place where Hood spent half of her time, the other half being up in her study designing new clothes. Right now she was perched on the tank, sitting on a cushion with a teapot and cakes on a tray by her side. Her golden hair was piled behind up her head in several braids, the very same way she used to wear it when she'd been in school. She took a sip from her cup as she overlooked an engine block she was preparing to dismantle and overhaul while the song "Posh" from the musical Chitty Chitty Bang Bang played on the overhead the speakers.
"Hmm, looks the compression in cylinder three is rather low," he heard her say, "Better log that in."
She made a note on her iPad while swinging her feet back and forth.
Lance turned off the music as he approached, taking in his boss's outfit. Despite doing mechanical work Hood was dressed in one of her self made 1940s style dressing gown, this one being made of silk and deep blue in color.
He always did like her choice of style. Lady Hood always preferred vintage fashion over today's, had even openly criticized today's fashion designers for being lazy and picking out clothes one can easily find at any thrift store, doing little to nothing to change it, and calling it fashion. He often found himself agreeing with her.
She really did look beautiful in her owns outfits and they suited her well. He couldn't imagine her wearing anything else.
"Please don't turn off my music," she chided at him when he reached her side.
He ignored her and opened his portfolio to go over her schedule.
"Miss Wales just called," he began, "You're suppose to be in Scotland right now."
She ignored him and said, "How did he take it?"
At the mention of that man he was once again annoyed.
"Like a champ," before he could stop himself he asked, "What did he want anyway?"
"The usual, wanting to know if my involvement in weapons manufacturing made a me hero or a war profiteer."
"And?"
"I'm simply reminded him that our military spending not only provided peace but has saved and provided for millions of lives."
"Did he believe you?"
"No, but once I told him that I willing to lose a few hours of sleep with him after asking me if I ever lost any..." she shrugged nonchalantly, "the rest was history."
Lance kept himself from scowling at her. He didn't know why he was so bothered, but he really didn't like it when she openly admitted she had just slept with a man.
"Do you ever think twice?" he mentally kicked himself for asking such a ridiculous question.
"Nope. If he likes me than he'll keep liking me. And if he keeps liking me he won't cause any problems. He could be a potential ally one day."
Finally he groaned, "That could come back to haunt you, you know?"
"My dear Lancelot, are you that worried about me?" she smiled mischievously at him, "Or perhaps you're jealous?"
This time he rolled his eyes. Here she goes again. This was what always happened whenever they had this conversation. It also didn't help that "Lancelot" was the name she'd gave him right after he was hire and she always loved to tease him with it despite his objections.
Then she said, "Are you jealous that you never get to see what they saw?"
The unexpected question threw him off and his heart skipped a beat. Immediately an image of his boss lying naked in his bed flashed through his mind and his face grew hot. He shook the image away, but Hood saw his inner reaction and began to giggle.
Bloody hell! Don't tease me like that!
"No, I am not jealous," he calmed himself down, "Need I remind for the thousandth time that you have a reputation to maintain?"
She suddenly reached down and touched his cheek.
"Whatever my reputation is, it's mine to ruin," she smiled sweetly.
His heart skipped a beat again. She had never done that before.
"Anyway," he cleared his throat, "About Scotland, your plane was suppose to depart nearly two hours ago."
"That's strange," Hood straightened and finished the last of her tea, "I thought that since it was my plane, it would leave when I arrive."
"Miss Hood, I also need to speak to you about a couple other things before you go."
"Eager to get rid of me, Lance?" she teased as she hopped down from the tank, "Have a vacation in mind?"
"Mr. Lamar called. He's got another buyer for the Picasso in the mix. He simply wants to know if you interested or not. Yes or no?"
"What do you think?" she asked, "Honestly."
He hesitated. Priceless paintings were not his expertise.
"Well..." he struggled to remember the pictures he'd seen of it, "I think it's a fair example, and way too overpriced in my opinion.
She didn't even hesitate, "I still want it. And I need it. Buy it and put it in storage."
"Very well," he checked it off, "Now, about the science gathering this June-"
Hood waved her hand before carrying the tray over to the lounge, "Please don't tell me anything that's two months from now."
"A month and a half, actually. And since they've been constantly harassing me about I'm going to say yes."
"Lancelot," she sounded disappointed, "You should never let anyone bully you, especially when it comes to me."
"And..." he moved his portfolio for her to see, "I need you to sign this before you leave."
"You really are trying to get rid of me."
"I am simply trying to keep you on schedule, Miss Hood."
If it wasn't for the fact that she paid him good money, he probably would've given up this job a long time ago.
"Do you have plans for today?" she asked.
He sighed, finally giving up, "Yes, as a matter of fact I do."
"Hmm-mm," she eyed him, "I do remember telling you I don't like it when you have plans I don't know about."
"I allowed to have them on my birthday," he stated.
Her eyes widened in surprise, "It's your birthday?"
"Yes."
"Of course it is. How old are you now? Twenty-six?"
"Twenty-eight," he corrected.
"Is that so?" her eyes glinted, "Already that long, huh?"
"I know," he replied sarcastically, "Time sure does fly."
"Well, get yourself something nice from me."
"I already did."
"And?"
"It was very nice. Thank you, Miss Hood."
"You're very welcome, Mr. Holland."
An awkward moment of silence passed as they stared at each other. It was a while before Hood broke eye contact.
"Well then," she clapped her hands before undoing her hair, "Time to depart."
In fifteen minutes she was dressed, packed, and out the door. Taking her McLaren she flew down the road to Gatwick Airport, with Henry in the Rolls Royce trying to keep up. Within ten minutes she was at the runway, her Challenger 650 waiting on the tarmac and a very cross Lieutenant Wales tapping her toe and finger.
"Very good, Henry!" she laughed as she got out of her car, "You managed to keep up! I thought I lost you back there."
The man grinned as took out her travel bag from the trunk, "You did, My Lady. I had to take a shortcut."
"Aaahhh," Hood laughed again and made her way to the jet, "Good morning, Ollie. Are you ready?"
"Good morning? Have you looked at the time?" Patience looked ready to blow her top.
"I'm sorry. I had a few things to take care of. I told I'd be here and I am."
Patience held up three fingers, "Three. Hours. You kept me waiting here for three bloody hours!"
Hood tapped her shoulders, "Waiting on you now, Ollie."
Her friend could only gape as she entered the jet.
"Come on, ole chaps! Let's rock and roll!"
Patience turned her eyes heavenward and vented her frustration before snatching off her hat and going inside. Within five minutes the plane was up in the air.
Hood got comfortable in her chair before glancing across the table. One look told her that Patience was still in a foul mood.
"What are you reading there?" she pointed to the newspaper that her friend was pretending to read.
"Nothing," she snapped.
"Come now, Ollie. Don't be mad."
"I'm not mad. I'm just indifferent."
"I did say I was sorry."
Henry came by with a tray, "Hot towel, My Lady?"
"Thank you, Henry," Hood took it before gesturing at Patience, "I told her I was sorry but she's doesn't want to listen."
"I said I was indifferent, okay?" she tossed down the newspaper, "You don't respect yourself, which means you don't respect me."
"That is not true. I hold you in the highest respect."
"Then why do I feel more like your babysitter than your friend?" she took the towel Henry offered, "If you like me to change your diaper and get you a bottle just let me know, okay?"
"Oh!" Hood's eyes sparkled, "Speaking of bottles, Henry! Open the champagne, won't you please?"
Patience's jaw dropped, "Hang on! We're not drinking! We're working right now!"
"Ollie-"
"Don't call me Ollie!"
Hood grinned, "Rosehip then?"
"Not that either! We're not in school anymore! And stop giving me that cute little smile!"
"Ollie, Ollie," Hood smiled and shook her head, "Today's a big day. We have to celebrate!"
Patience groaned and ran her hands down her face, "You are unbelievably, inconceivably, absolutely incapable of being responsible! Don't you know that it's downright Un-English to drink while doing business?"
"It would be downright Un-English not to drink while enjoying a nice flight."
Henry set down the bucket filled with ice and the champagne bottle before setting down two glasses for the ladies.
"Thank you, Henry," Hood poured first, "Have a drink with me, Ollie. We've haven't had one in while."
"No! Absolutely not! I won't!" Patience crossed her arms defiantly, "I will not drink while on duty."
Ten minutes later the Royal Navy officer was totally drunk, overly emotional, and was calling Hood by her old nickname.
"Darjeeling! Hic!" she sniffed as she went on with her nonsensical rant, the champagne bottle clutched tightly in her hand, "Why is it that after all this time I still can't find a boyfriend? I mean... I'm young, I'm pretty, and I got a nice body! Hic! Hell, my boobs are bigger than yours! Is it the uniform? It's the uniform, isn't it? It turns men off, doesn't it? You know... whenever I put on this uniform..."
"Oh, dear," Hood sipped from her glass, "Here she goes again."
She kept herself from laughing but she was definitely entertained for the rest of the flight.
Before they prepared to land at the Royal Air Force station at Lossiemouth Henry conjured up something to allow Patience to quickly sober up. Appearances mattered after all. She then spent the new few minutes puking in the bathroom while Hood changed into her suit and put on some perfume to hide the smell of alcohol.
Patience came out just as she finished and put on her hat, holding her head in agony.
Hood couldn't resist "Terrible headache, Rosehip?"
"Shut up," she growled, "And don't call me Rosehip. I told you we're not in school anymore."
Hood chuckled as they took their seats and strapped in for landing.
"I do miss the time when your hair was red."
"It was dyed, if you recall, and I was going through a rebellious stage back then," she groaned loudly, "Samantha... I hate you. I wish you an eternity in Hell."
"No, you don't," Hood grinned, "You love me too much."
Her friend snorted but said nothing else. The plane landed smoothly and after coming to a slow it rolled over to where several British and American high ranked officers stood waiting. In addition for providing weapons for the Her Majesty's forces Hood Industries also sold weapons to their American allies.
Hood skipped down the stepladder and approached the lead British Army General, "General Dare! Have lovely to see you again!"
The elderly man smiled and bowed over her offered hand, "Lady Hood, you look beautiful as always. May I introduce General Lindsey, United States Air Force."
"General," she smiled sweetly as she shook his hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Hood. I look forward to your weapons demo."
"As am I. Well, since I'm now here why don't we head on over to the test site? No need to waste time."
With a military escort the group made their way to the western coast of northern Scotland by bus. Hood rode with the officers, entertaining them with stories of her life and achievements. Patience, head still hurting, watched in vain silence. The officers seemed to be more interested in the beautiful young woman rather than the weapons she had to offer.
About an hour later they arrived at the test site located right next to the beach. It was typical Scottish weather. Cold, cloudy, and wet, but the area was remote and far from civilian population. A perfect testing place for a new weapon.
Hood followed the officers to the observation spot, her eyes locking on the missile launcher. The Jericho, as she called it. She had spent more time creating this weapon than any other project she'd worked on and it was the one she was most proud of.
The test site was little island just over a mile away from the coast. Everything was ready and perfectly set up. The officers took their places while she took a few steps forward. She observed the island one last time before she turned, smiled, and began her speech.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to today's demonstration. Let me ask you something. Is it better to be feared? Or to be respected? I say, why not both? Therefore, I am pleased to present the crown jewel of Hood Industries' Peacekeeper Line. It is the first missile system to incorporate out proprietary repulsor technology. They say that the best weapon is the one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire... once. That's the way Papa did it, that's the way our American friends do it, and it's work out nicely for us so far. Find an excuse to let one these bad boys loose and I personally guarantee you that all those annoying blokes who keep causing trouble will rue the day they made us their enemy."
At her signal the operator tapped a button and missile platform came to life, its targeting computer locked onto the instant and an instant later a one of the three missiles launched into the air. It streaked high above until it was almost directly above the island before the tube came apart, deploying its payload of two dozen warheads. Hood timed it to where she could finish her speech just before the warheads landed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... The Jericho."
She made a an old fashioned curtsy just as the warheads struck the island, the two dozen explosions combining into a massive one. The shock wave reached all the way to the observers, knocking away some their hats and almost causing Hood to loose her balance. Recovering herself she wiped off her sleeves and beamed.
"Well, my friends, what do you think?"
Everyone cheered and applauded, every bit impressed.
"Excellent! How about I offer you a drink while you observe the rest of what I have to offer."
She went over and opened a custom steel suitcase containing whiskey, scotch, cakes, and of course, a pot of British tea.
"Take as much time as you want, my friends," she poured herself a cup, "Cheers everyone!"
The minutes passed by as the officers looked over the other weapons on display. Hood took the time to answer every question they had before she asked for some time to herself.
She made her way to the beach. It was a beautiful one and she wished that the sun was out. If it wasn't so cold and if she wasn't wearing pantyhose she would have taken her shoes off and let her feet sink into the soft sand.
As she continued on her toe tap against against something solid. She glanced down, expecting to see a seashell or a rock. Instead she saw something completely different.
Something blue was sticking out of the sand. She bent down, thinking it was some kind of gemstone. She dug her fingers around it and tried to pry it out before she realized it was much larger than she thought. It took quite some digging before she was finally able to get a grip on it and pull it out. When she wiped away the sand, she was completely stunned.
It was a perfectly shaped transparent cube, light blue in color and about the size of a Rubik's cube. It seemed to be made of glass and it was surprisingly light.
Hood had never seen anything like this before. What on Earth was it? A failed art project someone had thrown away?
As she looked closer at the cube a light seem to appear in the center of it's transparent shell. The light grew brighter and something flashed before her eyes. She blinked, and for moment she went dizzy before she regained herself. She could have sworn she saw several images at once, but they had gone by so fast she wasn't able to make sense of them.
She blinked several more time before she looked back at the cube and saw that it was still glowing. Was her mind playing tricks on her?
"Hey! Samantha!"
Jumping at the sound of Patience's voice, Hood stood up and placed the mysterious object inside her coat pocket before whirling around to face her friend.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing," she smiled, "Just looking at a seashell. What's up?"
Patience jerked her head to the gathering behind her, "One of the Americans wanted to ask you about the Jericho."
"Ah, very well."
Wendy suddenly frowned, "You okay?"
She blinked, "Yes, I'm fine. Why?"
"You look a bit startled."
Hood paused. Had she looked startled? Her hand touch the cube hidden in her coat. Had it done something to her?
At that moment her cell phone rang. Grateful for the distraction she took it out and saw that is was a Face Time call from Patricia Royal.
"Hey, Sammy," her business partner in bed and she looked like she'd been out partying all night.
"Patty! Still abed at this hour?" Hood made her way back.
"Yeah... I just woke up. How did go? Did you do the demonstration yet?"
"Everything went perfectly well. Looks like we'll be having an early Christmas."
"Hey! That's my girl! I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, huh?"
"Why aren't you wearing those pajamas I sent you?"
Patricia rolled her eyes, "Goodbye, Samantha."
A short time later Hood decided to join the group of Royal Marines who were heading back to base ahead of the rest. She liked to interact with the troops whenever she had the chance. She filled her cup with what was left of the tea and headed over the where the infantry vehicles were parked.
Patience ran over as she got in.
"Sorry, Ollie, but I'm going to turn in early. Got to head back right away tomorrow, you know."
Her friend looked like she was about to say something but decided against it.
"Good job, today."
Hood patted her shoulder, "I'll see you back at the station."
Unlike the bus Hood was able to enjoy the view on the trip back in the infantry vehicle. She'd never been to this area of Scotland before and even though it was close to summer it was still cold and murky.
She took another sip from her tea cup while holder the saucer in her other hand. Despite the constant rocking of the vehicle she was able to keep it from spilling. Her smartphone sat on her lap playing "Looks That Kill" by Motley Crue and she hummed to the tune. Then she noticed how silent everyone was.
A young man who looked fresh out of high school was seated to her left. He was constantly stealing glances at her only to look away when she looked at him, blushing like school boy being unexpectedly close to his crush. The driver was focused to the road while the passenger, a man around her age, kept looking over his shoulder.
Enough was enough. She decided to break the silence.
"What's the matter with you all? I feel like you're taking me to the Tower of London. Come on, talk to me. What did I do wrong?" she turned her attention to the younger marine, "Hey... Forestall? Cat got your tongue?"
The marine tried to grin, "W-We-We can talk, My Lady."
"Why so nervous? I promise I won't bite."
"They're just intimidated by you, Lady Hood," spoke the driver, "Nothing personal."
Hood's eyes widened, "Good Lord, you're a lady! I wouldn't have noticed from here. No offense."
"None taken," the driver glanced back and flashed a smile, "I'm actually a pilot."
"Are you now? You must be very popular with the boys. You should me let dress you up sometime. You'd be the most beautiful woman of Scotland."
The three marines laughed.
"Thank you for the offer," the driver replied, "I'll keep it in mind."
"Lady Hood," the older marine spoke with a Scottish accent, "May I ask you something?"
"As long as it's not about my three sizes, go ahead."
Everyone laughed again before the Scotsman continued.
"Is it true that went twelve for twelve in last year's Vogue UK's magazine cover model?"
"Ah, good question," Hood sipped from her tea again, "The answer is yes and no. I missed the March edition due to a scheduling conflict, but the Christmas cover provided twins."
After everyone laughed at her joke she turned her attention again to the younger marine, "And what about you? Don't you have anything to say?"
"W-Well... uh..."
"Just spit it out, man," said the driver, "She said she wouldn't bite."
The marine cleared his throat and looked at Hood, "Would it be... alright if I took a picture with you?"
"Absolutely!" she beamed, "Anything for Her Majesty's soldiers."
Looking like his birthday had come early the marine handed his phone over the older one before shifting closer to Hood.
"I don't want to see this on your Twitter page," she joked.
"Don't worry, I don't use social media."
"Smart man."
The marine blushed and held a peace sign.
"Please, no gang signs," when he put it down she chuckled, "I'm only joking! Go ahead, throw it up."
"Alright," said the Scotsman once he'd adjusted the phone's camera, "Smile!"
"For Queen and Country!"
No sooner had she said that the vehicle ahead of them suddenly exploded into a huge fireball. The driver screamed and slammed on the brakes while the Scotsman dropped the phone and snapped his head back around.
"Bloody hell! What just happened?!"
Hood had dropped her teacup and saucer the moment the explosion occurred, but that was the furthest thing from her mind. Her body had frozen and her heart was beating rapidly.
"What is it? What's going on?"
Then she heard the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and men screaming.
Oh, my God! her mind screamed, We're under attack! Someone's shooting at us!
"Contact left!" the driver screamed, "Contact left!"
"Don't stop!" yelled the Scotsman, "Get back on the gas! Get us-"
The driver's bulletproof window suddenly shattered and her body jerked to the right. Her head leaned over and Hood immediately saw blood dripping out. The Scotsman cursed and picked up his rifle.
"Jimmy, stay with her!" he ordered before he got out.
"Stay down, Miss!" the young marine pushed her head down.
Looking between the dead driver and the passenger's seat, she saw the marine take position over the vehicle's hood and began to return fire. Then his head jerked back violently and he fell to the ground.
"Fuck me!" she heard Jimmy yell.
She looked over to see him cock his weapon before opening the left rear passenger door.
"Wait!" she screamed, "Where are you going?!"
The marine slammed the door shut, "Stay. Here!"
He turned to face the action-and blood splattered all over the window.
Hood was now all alone and on the verge of panicking. Gasping for breath she grabbed her cell phone and got out. She couldn't stay here! She had to get away from the battlefield and call for help! She almost collapsed on the cold ground before she became aware of her surroundings.
There was nothing but carnage. Burning vehicles and dead Royal Marines lay scattered everywhere. She tried calling for help but the gunfire and explosions drowned on her voice. She looked around frantically for a weapon but was unable to find. Instead she ran away from the battlefield.
However, she didn't get very far when she nearly ran off a cliff. Thirty feet below was a lake.
She was trapped.
The battle continued to rage on as she took cover behind a boulder and began dialing. Her only hope to contact Patience before the worse happened. But before she could complete the call a rocket landed near the edge of the cliff just three feet away from her.
Her eyes went wide before they locked on to the two words painted on projectile's tube.
Hood Industries.
Then the rocket exploded. She saw a flash of blue light before her eyes before the blast knocked her off her feet. The phone flew out of her hand and before she sensed that she was falling. Falling. Right off the cliff!
She heard herself scream before she plunged into the freezing cold water and everything went black.
The wind whistled loudly in her ears as she flew over vast and empty ocean. There was not a single spot of land in sight. It was dawn and the sky was completely overcast with dark clouds in the distance.
"Hood!"
She glanced over her fellow Royal Navy ship-girl, Prince of Wales
"I just received word," her friend yelled over the wind, "Norfolk and Suffolk have spotted them."
"How far?"
"About thirty-five miles. If we pick the the pace we can reach them before they disappear again."
"Let's do it."
Igniting their afterburner their speed increased dramatically. Despite the high winds their vision wasn't affected. The minutes passed as they streaked over the ocean. At some point Hood turned from side to side, checking her weapons.
Why? she inwardly thought, How did it come to this?
"There they are!" she heard Wales yell, "Seventeen miles! Straight ahead!"
Ahead of her she could see two black dots in the distance. Her hand moved and one of left turrets shifted closer. A compartment door opened and from she drew out a medieval sword.
"Wales, you keep Prinz Eugen occupied," she ordered, "I'll handle Bismarck."
There was a tense pause.
"Hood..." she could the fear in Wales's voice, "We should take her together. Or at least I should. She's too powerful for you."
Her head shook, "I have to face her alone. I need to know why."
No further were said as they closed the distance. Then suddenly one of them broke away and headed straight toward them!
"Look out!" Hood warned.
The figure streaked passed her and she was only able to catch a glimpse. It looked like a bird with a scorpion's tail. Then she heard the sound of metal clashing, followed by a grunt, and she whirled around to see Wales being pushed back by the attacker. In her left hand was her rapier that she had used to block her enemy's attack before she twisted around and let the figure go flying past her.
"Wales!" she started to turn, but her companion waved her off.
"Don't worry about me! Go after Bismarck!"
Her companion flew away in the other direction while she turned to face the other one. Only to see that there was no one there. Her head snapped left and right, trying to find her target. Then, as if there was some instinct warning her, she looked up to see a large figure diving toward her. Her body flew backwards just in time and the figure dove beneath. Lifting her blade, she whirled around and dove after the enemy.
She closed the distance and their weapons clashed. Once. Then twice. On the third clash their weapons locked and she caught a glimpse of her adversary. She saw a beautiful young woman with a kind and gentle face, long blonde hair covered with a navy captain's hat, and soft blue eyes. Eyes that were filled with sadness as she looked directly at her.
She could see the regret in them, but also the commitment. She broke away from the engagement and for a along moment the two stared at each other while floating in the air.
The woman was tall and willowy, possessing the perfect figure of a woman. She was dressed entirely in black. Her outfit was that of a military uniform. Black coat with gold trimming, black skirt with red, white, and gold stripes, and black high boots. She also wore a royal mantle around her shoulders. Her stood tall and proud, her posture being that of a queen meant to rule the world.
In her hands she carried a spear and surrounding her was four gun turrets, each carrying twin cannons. Those guns weren't pointed at her as of yet, but they menacing and she suddenly felt very vulnerable.
"Bismarck!" she cried, "Why have you done this? Answer me! Please!"
There was a pause before the woman's head lowered, "I'm sorry, dear friend. This wasn't what I wanted."
"Then why did you betray us?!"
She saw Bismarck sigh heavily, "Honor, loyalty, duty. I must do what is best for my people. You would have done the same in my place. Only with great power can we save humanity. My country has chosen a different path."
Hood shook her head in denial and she pointed her sword at the woman, "I trusted you Bismarck! You were my friend! Does that mean nothing to you?"
"After what you did in Algiers things have completely changed. I don't expect you to understand, but I cannot turn back what has begun. Only history will tell who was right and who was right in these significant moments."
She was now struggling to breath. Algiers. That was the event she wished she could forget.
"You know I can't let you continue. You pose too much of a threat to my people."
Bismarck slowly nodded, as if she knew all along.
"Then there is only one way this can end," she declared before pointing her spear at Hood, "Fight me now or take flight, because from here I will not hold back."
Knowing there was no other choice, she lifted the sword and declared, "So be it."
The two charged at each and for the next five minutes they fought with tremendous ferocity. Blades clashing, cannons blasting. The battle going from the air, to the sea, then back to the air.
As the fight wore on Hood began to realize that Bismarck really was far more powerful than her. Every attack she made was countered easily and her guns did little to help. She was weakening and her opponent could see it, but at the same time it seemed she was really restraining herself from dealing the final blow. The few times she caught a glimpse of her face she looked like she was begging her to flee.
But she couldn't back down. She had to stop Bismarck.
It was then her opponent finally realized she had no other choice but to end this through death. She flew high above, aimed her eight cannons, and fired.
Hood had no time to dodge and she received a direct hit. Her sword flew out of her hands and she felt her gun turrets being blasted away.
"Hood!" she heard someone scream.
The blast had knocked the breath out of her and she couldn't see because of the smoke. Then she felt a gust of air-
And then something cold pierced her stomach. It ran through her body and came out her back. Soon afterward she coughed out blood and she saw that she was impaled on the woman's spear, rivers of blood running down its shaft.
"Hood!" she heard Wales scream in anguish, "NNOOOOoooo!"
She tried to speak but only more blood came out. Her head lifted and she saw her friend, Bismarck. Her gentle face was in pain and her eyes were misty. Then she lifted her other hand and gently touched her cheek.
"Forgive me. I wish it hadn't come to this."
She felt her lips move as though she was trying to smile. The woman herself gave a sad as a tear ran down her pale cheek before her hand fell away.
"I will always remember you. Farewell, my friend," she pulled out the spear, "May we meet in Valhalla."
And then she was falling, falling, straight to the sea. She could hear Wales screaming her name as her life started to fade.
She hit the ocean and immediately sank. The light from above faded into darkness and she sank deeper and deeper. Then she saw three black monstrous figures approaching. She saw black tentacles, glowing yellow eyes, and demonic grins closing in on her.
And then there was nothing but darkness.