Chapter 3:
Disclaimer: Do I really need to keep doing this? Still don't own anything.
By the time Monroe had gotten up and taken off after Charlie, neither she nor the boy were anywhere to be found. In the chaos of blood surrounding them, there was no hope of tracking them. Monroe felt cold all over when he realized that all they could do was wait for daybreak before looking for her.
The troops from New Orleans disappeared as suddenly as they appeared. Leaving behind the bodies of the Patriots they slaughtered. They didn't bother to raid their camp, or question anyone; they just came out of the blackness, tore through the Patriots and disappeared.
Monroe surveyed everything and admired them for their efficiency. The few Patriots that did escape would not soon forget the living nightmares that killed their fellow soldiers. However, it made the cold inside him give a sharp spike of fear at the thought of Charlie falling under one of them. Because she was a woman would they treat her differently than they had the rest of the Texans?
Monroe had the handful of men he had left spread out and searching the camp for anything they could find about what the Patriots were up to. He just paced back and forth in the center of camp, like a caged tiger. His face was tight and controlled and his men were getting increasingly nervous.
"Sir?" One of the men spoke hesitantly; he swung his eyes up to look at him and stopped his movements. The man stepped back involuntarily under the intensity of the gaze.
"What?" The word was spoken quietly, but with venom.
"Um," the man fumbled nervously with the papers in his hands. He had been with the Rangers for almost 15 years now. He wasn't one to let fear get the best of him, he was a good soldier, but right now he was more afraid of his general than he had been of New Orleans. "Well, sir, according to this, there are probably about a thousand troops down here. They're trying to gain control of the Mississippi River." Monroe's eyes narrowed. "They have large ships housing hundreds and numerous camps. Even with the damages New Orleans did, it probably barely put a dent in their numbers. "
He watched the General's eyes narrow. The remaining men stood with him, but he knew that the General could cut them all down in an instant if he chose. They had seen him on the battlefield and they heard the stories; they knew what he was capable of.
"What are you saying?" Monroe's voice was extremely mild, but there was nothing mild about his look.
Another man spoke up. "Well, sir, if they send in more men to investigate what happened, we'll be out numbered, probably by 10 to 1. We should go back…."
"We're not leaving without Lieutenant Matheson." There was finality in his voice.
The men exchanged glances. It was one thing to stand and fight against huge numbers when the only other choice was surrender and torture. It was quite another to stay and wait to be slaughtered on the small chance the Lieutenant was still alive.
Bass watched the men squirm nervously. Part of him knew they were right. It would be better to go back and get troops and be prepared, but there was no way he was going to waste a day going back and forth. He could let the men go, but that was a pair of eyes he might need to find her. He wasn't going to do anything that would put her more at risk.
He turned from the men and began pacing again. Not long now and the sky would start to brighten and they could begin their search.
Suddenly there was a crashing noise coming from behind them. They all spun towards the noise, guns out, waiting to face whatever emerged. It was a single person or animal that was obvious, and it was panicked.
Devon burst out of the swamp. He skidded to a halt and his eyes flickered up to the men before him, surprisingly, he looked even more scared at the sight of them. It looked like he was about to take off back into the swamp but before he could even move, Monroe had him by the throat.
"Where is she?" He growled.
"Wh- who?" The boy stuttered out.
Monroe hit him, not hard enough to knock him unconscious, but hard enough to knock him down and stun him.
"Don't." Monroe warned him. "Where is Lt. Matheson?"
"I…I don't…" Monroe hit him again.
"Where is she?" He asked again.
The boy started to cry and shook his head.
Fed up, Monroe grabbed him by the hair and shoved his gun in his face.
"Listen to me." The boy sobbed harder. "Listen to me!" He shouted at him and Devon quieted. "She went after you, so I'm certain you saw what happened to her. Now if I have to, I will shoot you, but I will do it in the stomach so you die slowly and painfully. There may even be animals out here attracted to the smell of blood, maybe they'll come take bites out of you while you lay here in pain." Bass spoke slow and deliberate making sure his words penetrated the boy's panic.
Devon's eyes widened. He stared at the General. There was no denying he was serious.
"Th…those men. The ones who came out of the swamp….they took her."
"Where?"
"I don't know." The boy wailed.
"You don't know." Monroe studied him. "There isn't a mark on you." He observed. "Did you leave her to get captured?" Devon lowered his eyes. "You did, didn't you?" His voice was soft. "You left her to be captured after she risked her life to save your worthless ass!" He moved quickly, standing a delivering a solid kick under the boy's chin. He prepared to shoot him there.
"Sir!" A voice yelled out behind him.
"WHAT?" He snapped.
"Sir, you can't do this. His father will have you killed."
A quick smile crossed the General's face. "Maybe you're unaware, but Texas already had me killed once and I'm still here."
"Sir, he's a deserter, we all heard him admit it. Let us take him back for a trial, that way you won't get blamed for it."
"I don't really care about blame." He cocked the gun. On the ground the boy started wailing and begging for his life.
"Sir, she wouldn't want you to do this." Another voice rang out and Monroe froze. "She may agree with you that he needs to die, but she'd want him to have a trial and face what he's done."
Bass closed his eyes. When he opened them again he fired.
Dirt kicked up in the boys face from here he shot, just a few feet away.
Monroe knelt down in front of him. "I'm going to let them take you back for a trial, but know this, if Texas doesn't kill you, I will." He promised the kid.
He turned and looked at his men.
"Take him." He ordered. Two men moved forward and picked Devon up roughly.
"Are we going back now, sir?" One of the men asked.
"You are." Monroe started gathering up what little supplies he could. "I'm going to New Orleans to get Lt. Matheson."
"Sir…?" One of the men said.
"That was an order." Monroe interrupted him. "You are taking this piece of shit back. Make sure he faces charges. You are going to make sure Miles gets word of what's happened here. Tell him, I'm going to bring his niece back. If I don't…." Monroe hesitated. He didn't want to think about, the possibility that he wouldn't be able to. "If I'm not back with her in a week, tell Miles to destroy New Orleans." He finished.
One of the men stepped forward. It was the one who had reminded him that Charlie wouldn't want him to shoot the boy. "Permission to go with you sir?" The man asked.
"Permission denied." Monroe told him.
The man tried again. "Sir, you can't go alone into New Orleans territory, through the Patriots, and really think you have a chance of bringing Lt. Matheson back."
Bass let out a humorless laugh. "And you really think one extra man is going to make the difference?" He asked him. "You and your men wanted to go back, so go back. I'm going in alone."
"Sir, we didn't want to sit here and get slaughtered on the chance she was alive out here. But if she's been captured, I want to help get her out. Lt. Matheson is one of the best I've served under and I don't want to leave her with those animals from New Orleans."
Austin, TX
5 Weeks earlier
Charlie stood in the training yard, watching the Rangers and Texas troops train for the upcoming war. Currently, they were practicing sword skills. The more experienced Rangers were working with the new recruits they had. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, and sighed. She knew they were going to have this conversation sooner rather than later.
Monroe walked up to where she was standing. "So, you're going to be my new babysitter." He commented.
"That's what I hear." She answered. He didn't say anything for a few minutes and she finally turned her head and met his eyes. "Look, I didn't ask for this." She said. "I wanted to help with the Patriots, but I didn't ask for any of this."
Monroe watched her. The way he was looking at her, she wondered if he could see why she was so uncomfortable with this assignment. Finally he broke eye contact with her and looked to where they were training.
He would never admit how much the anger and defiance in her gaze at the thought of being sent out with him hurt. Because he didn't want her to go either. He wanted to go into battle with no other thoughts than of winning. He wanted to destroy the Patriots. Now, his focus was going to be split. Whether or not he wanted it, and despite the fact that she could hold her own, he was going to be worrying about her. It would change the way he did things, affect his decisions. It infuriated him.
"You see that?" He finally said. She looked out towards the men. One of the recruits had found his stride with the sword was successfully blocking and sparring with one of the Rangers. "This is Texas, even the ones who have no combat or fighting experienced are taught from a young age the basics. They know how to handle a gun and can fight." He paused and considered. "Well, apparently with the exception with Willoughby." He added dryly.
"What's your point?" Charlie asked.
"My point is, they don't know you. They don't know what you've seen or what you've done. All they know is some girl, the niece of one of the Generals has been promoted to second in command. A girl, that's ten to twenty years younger than them, has now been put in charge of their safety and well being."
Charlie bristled. "I told you I…."
"Didn't ask for it." He finished for her. "Yah, I know. But that doesn't change the fact that you are the second in command and they aren't going to automatically respect you. In fact, most of them are probably going to resent you." He stared her down. "Your best bet is going to be to stay quiet and not draw attention to yourself. You want to report on me to Miles, that's fine, but don't go letting this 'promotion' go to your head."
She met his stare evenly. "Really?" She asked, before he could answer, she turned from him and marched across the yard to where the men were just finishing up with that bout. Monroe sighed and followed her out.
"I'm next." She shouted when she got close enough. The men all turned to look at her. Monroe could see the look of open amusement on most of their faces, although some of them looked outright hostile. The Ranger in the ring appraised her.
"You think you need the training, honey?" He asked mockingly.
Charlie picked up a training sword from the rack and ran her eyes over it. She swung it a few times, testing its weight and balance.
"No." She stated. "I think you do." She stepped into the circle. "And it's Lieutenant Matheson, not honey." She stated. This brought a few snickers, and a glare from the man she was facing. Even still, the man looked at Monroe first, as if to ask permission. Monroe just shrugged.
Inside he was torn between being irritated and impressed. Fucking Charlotte Matheson. She never did what he expected. Even after all this time, she would surprise him when he least expected it. Granted he didn't think she'd just accept and listen to him about keeping quiet, but he definitely hadn't expected her to do this.
The man didn't give any warning, he just swung. Charlie blocked him easily. He came at her again and again; she blocked every move he made. For several moments, she didn't even bother trying to attack; she just stood her ground blocking every move he made. The men in the crowd started making noise. Laughing at his inability to touch the young woman ('Girl', Bass thought to himself. 'She is a girl.'). A few started calling out taunts. The man was getting more and more frustrated as the embarrassment was setting in. It was then that Charlie made her move. She went on the attack with a number of swings and quickly drove him back. He blocked a few, but she made contact more than not. She moved faster, pushing him back into the crowd that parted for them. Finally, the man stumbled and she had her blade at his throat. The crowd cheered.
Charlie looked down at him. "You're good." She told him. "But it's obvious you've never gone up against trained soldiers. Your moves are predictable and routine. You don't know how to improvise." Her voice held no malice; she was just matter of fact. "If you practice, you'd be able to take me easily, you are faster, and you have more experience. You just need to break from rote training." She looked up at the men gathered around her. "I've gone up against the Patriots on several occasions. I've even taken down one of their conditioned soldiers." She looked around at the men. "There is nothing predictable about them. They are trained soldiers and they know how to look for and exploit weaknesses. We have the numbers, you have the experience, we just need to fine tune it." Monroe watched them, he saw the men's expressions change from amusement to considering and then finally they looked at her with respect. She continued. "Now if any of you think this was a fluke, that I just got lucky, then you are more than welcome to step up and try me, but I'm telling you the result will be the same." She looked around, but there was silence. "Anyone?" She asked. No one spoke. She shrugged. "All right then." She said.
"Um, actually, I think I'll try to have a go." Monroe spoke and she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed, but he just grinned at her. "What? You said 'anyone'." He taunted her. He wondered if she'd back down from him, but this was Charlie. She didn't back down. She turned the sword over several times.
"Let's go." She said. They stepped out and circled each other a few times. He struck out at her. She blocked several, and then he landed a hit. They circled a bit more, this time he struck out and she blocked and then spun around him, he saw her out of the corner of his eye and managed to block her strike, but just barely. She grinned at him. Bass couldn't help it; he let out a laugh and went on the attack.
Back and forth they went trading blows. She was good, he had to give her that, she wasn't as good as him, but he hadn't done this in so long he was enjoying himself. How long had it been since he had sparred with someone like this without the pressure and the single minded determination. He had forgotten how much fun it was.
For her part, Charlie was also having fun. It felt good to be able to work out and train against someone who wasn't barking orders at her because they were probably going to be slaughtered in a few hours. She was watching him while they trained. Watching how he moved and the way he attacked. She was able to take that and adapt it to fit her own fighting style. She was learning more from him, and more quickly, than she had training under Miles. She of course appreciated the irony of this. Sebastian Monroe was teaching her how to survive and she was having fun while she learned.
While she was distracted by her thoughts he managed to gain the upper hand and push her back. She brought her attention back and parried and started putting the knowledge she had just gained to use. She pressed him and was delighted that she was able to push him back towards the center. He shot her a look and a grin and she knew he realized what she had done and he was impressed. She felt something warm in her chest and suddenly noticed that they were both sweating profusely from the work out. His shirt was clinging to him and she could see his chest outlined clearly through it. Startled by the thought and aggravated and embarrassed by her reaction, she attacked again, losing her good mood.
She pressed him and suddenly noticed something. When she attacked to his right, he blocked her easily, however, when she went to the left he had to turn his head. She filed that fact away for later.
She had surprised him with her sudden attack, but he came back quickly and they began to furiously go at each other. Once again she got lost in the movements as they fought back and forth.
Monroe couldn't believe how fast she picked up on his moves but now he wasn't even going easy on her. He wasn't pressing his advantages, but she was still providing him with a good challenge just keeping up with her attacks. He wasn't aware that the crowd around them had doubled in size and he also wasn't aware that Rachel and Miles had joined the crowd and were watching them; one with worry and the other with admiration.
Finally, exhausted, they both stepped back at the same time and lowered their swords. When it was clear they were done the crowd surrounding them broke into applause and cheering. At first they were stunned by the amount of people there were then they both started laughing. Monroe walked over to her.
"All right Lieutenant, first thing tomorrow, you and I are going to start getting these guys in shape."
"What happened to staying quiet and not drawing attention to myself?" She asked.
He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, you kinda threw that theory out the window." He gave her a grin. "Besides, I may have been wrong, I think you'll make a good second in command."
She smiled at him and her whole face lit up. Her eyes seemed to glow at him with happiness. He was struck by how beautiful she was. Then her smile faltered and she gave him a doubtful look. "Wait, I don't have to call you 'General' and 'Sir' now, do I? Because that is so not happening."
Present
Bass looked at the man standing in front of him. Charlie had earned all the men's respect. Hell, she more than earned his respect long before she even was made Lieutenant, but watching her take on the role, there were times she made him awe struck.
"I appreciate it and I know she would, too." He sighed. "There's a chance I can get into New Orleans because of who I was, that might get me in the city, but it's only a chance and I honestly don't think they'll let anyone else in. I'd just be leading you out there to have you killed." The man opened his mouth to protest again. But he interrupted. "If you want to help, the best way is to get back and get Miles and all of his troops and all of ours and move them to here. We need to keep the Patriots from getting control of the Mississippi. I'll either be back here with Charlie by the end of the week, or we'll need to be rescued."
He didn't say that they'd probably be dead. Normally he tried to remain realistic about situations like these, but he couldn't think about her being dead. The thought of it made him want to burn down the world.
"Yes, sir." The man finally relented. With that Bass walked out of the camp, heading south, down to New Orleans.
Shreveport, LA
Miles had managed to get his troops down to Shreveport in only two days. He had pushed the men hard and they had done over 35 miles a day. They left behind the slower supply carriers with a small force for protection and had just marched until they were ready to drop.
They met the runner Bass had sent up a on the first night, and Miles only let the men sleep about 4 hours in his rush to get down there. He cursed both Bass and Charlie for running headlong into something when they had no idea what they were getting themselves into, and then cursed himself for putting the two together. What else would he expect from them?
He entered the camp and found it was still in good shape despite its two senior officers having left it in the hands of men who had no experience with leading. He climbed off his horse as men gathered around him.
"Who's in charge here?" He yelled.
"I am, sir." An officer stepped forward.
"Has there been any word from General Monroe or Lieutenant Matheson?"
The man looked extremely nervous.
"WHAT?" Miles snapped. He didn't have time to play charades.
"The scouting party made it back a few hours ago, sir."
"They did? Then where's the General? Where's your Lieutenant?"
"Um, the Lieutenant was taken; sir and General Monroe went after her."
Miles stopped and stared at the man. "Taken? By the Patriots?"
"No, sir. By New Orleans." Miles let out a string of curses. "General Monroe left word that you were to bring all the troops south; he said he'd be back in a week with Lieutenant Matheson." Miles scoffed.
"How many men did he take with him?"
"He went alone sir."
"Bass, you crazy mother…." Miles shook his head.
"He said if he didn't come back within the week, that you were to raze New Orleans to the ground."
Miles closed his eyes. He felt helpless. Back when they had the militia together, they had sent scouts to New Orleans. They had received their hearts back in a box, with an invitation written in blood to either come themselves, or not at all. The hearts had bites taken out of them.
"What about the Patriots?"
"We think we've pinpointed most of their land camps. The ships are floating out in the water. Even if we cleared out the camps on land and took their boats, it would be unlikely we could take the ships, they are too well defended and even at night, they'd see us coming."
"Tell my men they are getting a short rest before we head south. I want the land camps cleared out in the next week and regular patrols set up keeping eyes out for the General and the Lieutenant." He wanted to go into New Orleans himself, but knew he couldn't leave all these men like this. There wasn't anyone here with enough experience to take on the Patriots. If anyone could succeed at getting Charlie freed it would be Bass. Miles found himself doing something he hadn't done in a very long time. He said a prayer that both of them made it out.
"What about the ships sir?" Miles thought for a moment.
"Is there still a library here?"
"Yes sir?" The man answered with a question in his voice.
"Send one of the men to take out a book on catapults." The man stared at him. "That's the thing about ships, especially wooden ones, they tend to sink when filled with holes, add fire to that and we can take out the ships and the men."
"But sir, they have cannons." Miles stopped and gave him a look.
"That's why we attack when they don't know we're there. Catch them by surprise."
3 days later
Covington, LA
Bass had managed to commandeer a boat from a Patriot scouting party and had moved as quickly as possible south. He was certain the Louisiana troops had to know he was there, but they stayed hidden. He was trying to remain calm and patient, but he was getting frustrated and his food had run out the day before. He had rationed his water, but soon that would be gone too.
He could see something up ahead in the distance, but couldn't make out what it was from here. As he slowly approached he realized it was a huge log dam, with a gate. He looked up on top and saw 20 men with weapons looking down at him. He pulled the boat up to the gate.
"I need to speak with whoever is in charge." He said as arrogantly as he could.
"Little man, who do you think you are?" A large black man called down to him, he had tribal markings all up his arms and a vest that looked like it was covered in human teeth.
"I'm someone who needs to speak to the man in charge." He said again.
Suddenly every gun was cocked and pointed at him.
"Little man, you need to go back to where you came from. We ain't interested in joining up with Texas; we just want these American Assholes out of our yard."
Bass just stared up at him. He raised his arm, showing them his tattoo. "Tell your leader that General Sebastian Monroe is here to see him." He snapped. "Or maybe you are so low on the totem pole, you can't get to him." He had to throw that taunt in there. He could see the men on the wall, start whispering to themselves and the one who had been yelling at him was torn between interested and insulted.
"What business do you have with our King?" He asked.
Bass scoffed. "I don't talk to minions. You either take me to your King, or let him know you refused me, even though, I'm here alone, which should show I'm not much of a threat, and I think he'd be very interested in what I have to say."
There was a conversation on top of the wall and Bass waited impatiently.
"What's it going to be?" He demanded. The man in charge looked like he wanted to shoot him on the spot, but instead the gate began to swing open. On the other side were several boats with 10 men in each boat, all with guns pointed on him. Bass grinned. "I see my reputation precedes me." He commented. They motioned him forward and he felt a faint stirring of hope. It wasn't much, but he made it into New Orleans without being killed….at least not yet.
Austin, TX
"You wanted to see me?" Rachel asked the man standing behind the bars. He no longer was as clean as the last time she saw him, but he hadn't lost any of his arrogance. Rachel stared at the President with disdain.
"Rachel! I've been looking forward to seeing you again." He grinned and came closer to her. "You know I've been asking for you for quite a while now." He told her as if sharing a confidence.
"I'm sorry; visiting you isn't at the top of my list. I try not to give power hungry mad men too much of my time." She said.
"Just your daughter?" The president snickered. "Even down here I heard she's off as Sebastian Monroe's second in command. What's that like? Sending your only living child off with the man responsible for killing the rest of your family?"
"What do you want?" She demanded.
"I was just wondering how your research was coming." His grin turned sly.
"What research?"
"The research into how to stop the nanites you created."
"What do you know about that?" She asked. Inside her heart was racing, but she maintained an outward calm.
"Oh, you are an ice queen aren't you?" He laughed. "I guess you'd have to be though if you can trade your son's life for the entire world."
Rachel scoffed. "You don't know anything; you just want to taunt me."
"I know you can't win. The only thing that could stop them is the very thing they won't let you have. Electricity. You caught them by surprise with Priscilla, that won't happen again."
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "They've been in touch with you." She said.
"I've been chosen."
"Chosen for what?" She kept her voice mild.
"Oh Rachel, you don't want to ruin the surprise do you?"
"You are nothing more than a pawn in their game." She informed him.
"You'd like to believe that wouldn't you. Or maybe you think you can have it tortured out of me." He tilted his head. "Hmmm, is that what you think Rachel?" He giggled. She was starting to get unnerved and backed up a bit. "I think you'll find torture will be wasted on me." Then he raised his hands up to his face and ran his finger nails down over it, scratching deep gouges. She gasped and backed up faster. Before the blood could do more than even trickle out though, the scratches healed up before her very eyes. "They make us better Rachel. We can be what we were meant to be. Children of God."
Rachel turned and fled the jail.
New Orleans, LA
It took them about four hours to reach the city. Bass didn't speak to any of the men on the boat he sat on. They hadn't bothered to take his weapons. He guessed they realized there wasn't much he could do against 30 armed men. One of the smaller boats had taken off immediately, probably to advise their king of his impending arrival.
New Orleans was a very different place from what he remembered. The stench was overwhelming and it was obvious they had no real sewer system since the city had flooded. People lived in tents on the tops of buildings. Makeshift rafts and boats were tied to most. The people all looked very depressed and obviously living hard. He wondered why they tolerated these conditions and didn't just leave. The King must not allow people to defect to other areas.
He was disgusted by everything he saw. He may have been harsh when he was leading the Republic and things had gotten way out of hand, but for the most part, it was created to give security to people. There hadn't been many people who lived like this under his rule. The boat navigated slowly through what used to be streets. A few times they passed by swollen corpses floating in the water. Disease must run rampant here.
He was concentrating on not letting his disgust show. He also tried very hard not to think about what was happening to Charlie right now. He still refused to think of the possibility that she was dead. For some reason, he thought he would know if she were gone. If she was, he vowed that he would kill the king himself, or die trying.
Finally they pulled up to what used to be an old sky scraper. He recognized it, it used to be the Windsor Court Hotel. The men got out and gestured for him to follow them.
When they went inside, the smell was even worse. People around here didn't bathe much.
They led him up flights of stairs that had obviously been patched many times, the stairs opened up onto a huge courtyard located on the roof. The smell here wasn't nearly as bad. Tarps and tents covered it to provide shade and there were tropical plants and flowers everywhere. There were two rows of fierce men creating a walkway that led to a large dais. On the dais, were scantily clad women, adorned with gold and jewels. All of the women had collars around their necks that had leashes. The leashes were tied to a large throne, where a surprisingly pleasant looking dark skinned man sat. Bass wondered how he could even keep his head up straight with the amount of gold chains that hung around his neck. His fingers were covered in rings also. The man also wore a huge grin, showing off his gold teeth.
"General Sebastian Monroe!" He yelled out as soon as Bass met his eyes. He greeted him warmly as if they were old friends. "This meeting has been a long time coming!"
Bass walked warily down the rows of men standing at attention. They were all heavily armed.
"Your Majesty." Bass greeted him. He tried to keep the dryness out of his voice.
"Ah, hell man, you don't have to worry about all that. You were a leader like me. Just call me Benny."
"Ok…Benny." He amended. The king, Benny, looked at him expectantly. "You can call me, Monroe." He wasn't going to be on a first name basis with the man. 'Benny' looked a little disappointed at that, but it left his face quickly.
"Since they sent me word you were coming, I've ordered up a feast for this evening. I figure we have a lot to talk about, and then tomorrow we can get down to the business."
"While I appreciate the offer, my business can't wait until tomorrow." Bass told him firmly.
This time, the look that crossed the King's face wasn't disappointment, it was rage. It was obvious he wasn't used to hearing the word 'no'. His voice came out harder than before. "Well, those USA fools will still be there tomorrow and your troops are far to the North. I don't see why we can't talk about a treaty tomorrow."
"Treaty?" He was confused now.
"That's why you're here, right? You've come to offer a treaty from Texas, haven't you? I figure you boys need help clearing the Amerifucks out of our waters. And we'll help you." He gained back his grin, larger than before. "With provisions of course."
"I'm not here for a treaty." Bass answered.
"Then why the fuck are you here? To see the sights?"
"Your men captured one of my officers and I'm here to request that you return them."
"My men wouldn't do that, they were under strict orders not to touch any of the Texas troops unless they attacked first. I don't want any trouble with Texas unless I need it."
"Well, then your men didn't follow orders, because they took one of my officers, my Lieutenant."
The king narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "You sure about this? I'd hate for you to be coming up in here and accusing me of something I didn't do."
"Unless there are other armed men coming out of the swamps with gold fangs, I'd say it was your guys."
The king sat back and glared. "Get me Beauchamp!" He snapped. Bass saw one of the men in the corner run out quickly. "And get the man a seat. He been traveling long enough. This isn't how we treat guests!"
A man came up behind him with a chair and sat it in front of the dais.
"Look man, if my men did this, I'll make it right."
"To make it right I need my Lieutenant back."
The king whistled. "Must be a damn good officer to have you coming all this way yourself." Bass didn't answer. He had noticed on the way in that most of the women seemed to be subservient around here and looking at the women tethered to the throne, Bass wasn't about to tell him Charlie was a girl.
"So, we've got some time til they arrive. You don't mind chewing the fat for a bit, do you?" There seemed to be a challenge in the question.
"Not at all."
"See, I been wondering for a while now, rumors said that you were the one that dropped the bombs, but I never thought that made sense. Then I heard you were dead, and then Texas killed you, now here you are in my kingdom, a General in the Texas army."
Bass stared at him. "I'm sorry, was there a question in there?" He asked.
"Yah, what the fuck happened?" The king snapped. "A lot of my guys had family in Atlanta. People that left after Katrina and never came back."
"I didn't drop the bombs, the Patriots did."
"SEE?" He yelled out. "I told all y'all Motherfuckers! I told them. Ya couldn't trust the government before; you sure as hell can't trust them now." He looked back at Bass, with something like admiration. "So you were the one who saved Texas dumb ass and they made you a General."
"Something like that."
"You're like me. We're survivors." The king sat back and looked around. "After Katrina, the city was never the same. Then about 10 years later, all these hipsters started moving in to our neighborhoods to 'clean them up'." He about snarled. "Suddenly a man couldn't afford his home anymore. I had 8 kids to feed. Me and my family wound up living in a condemned home out in the Lower Ninth. Gentrification. What a crock! When the blackout happened, it was time for them hipsters to get their moving orders. I stepped up and led the men. We killed them all, took our neighborhoods back and for while, life was good. We cleaned up our city and took it back, then damn, if it didn't start flooding. Couldn't stop it, the pumps needed electricity to run. "
"For a long time, no one messed with us. We lived our lives, got our rules established. Got to be hard, to run this place. But look who I'm telling, you know what it's like. Texas and Georgia, both offered us to join them, but we didn't want to be taking orders from nobody. We were our own. Then they got a bit itchy, tried sending folks in, spies and shit. Well, we sent 'em out in pieces. They learned real fast, not to fuck with us."
"I remember how you sent our men back."
Benny chuckled. "Sorry about that, but we don't talk to no peons round here. You would've come yourself, we coulda sat down and talked. I heard a lot about you, thought we'd get along real well and see here we are, getting along."
Bass was getting impatient. This man was clearly deluded and had an over developed sense of importance. He wondered if this was how he was viewed towards the end of his reign. It was humbling thought.
Just then the messenger entered followed by another soldier.
"Ah, Beauchamp, maybe you'd care to clear something up here for us." The king addressed the man.
"Yes, sir."
"This is General Sebastian Monroe, formerly of the Monroe Militia. He says your men captured one of his officers during that raid the other night. I told him, he must be wrong, since you WERE under orders to leave Texas alone, but the man insists."
"Sir the only captive we have is the girl."
Bass stood up quickly. Charlie was alive.
The king turned back to him. "Now calm down, I'm not gonna go off just cuz you accused me of something I didn't do."
"The girl is my officer." Bass told him coldly. "And I want her back now."
"A girl is your second in command." The king laughed hard. "C'mon man, don't be playin' that shit with me. We all like our diversions." He petted one of the girls sitting closest to him. "Isn't that right, Kita?" The girl smiled up at him adoringly. "But you don't come in here lying and shit. Besides, that is a fine piece of ass. I'm thinking I'm going to keep her. We've already started training her to be in my stable."
"That girl is Lieutenant Charlotte Matheson, the niece of General Miles Matheson and you will be releasing her to me, or else."
The king lost all humor and his eyes took on a glint. "Or else what? You gonna stand in my throne room and threaten me?!"
"If I'm not back with her in 3 days times, Miles is going to destroy you. And if you think he won't, you're a fool. Your men may be vicious and used to fighting on the water and in the swamps, but you will be facing the entire Texas army and Miles won't stop until he kills you." Bass told him.
The King sat back and stared at him. Bass noticed the men surrounding him started to exchange glances. The king watched them too.
"I won't be talked to like that. This bitch belongs to me now! Besides, we've already started breaking her in, I'm sure. Pretty soon, she'll be as docile as my Kita."
"Um, sir?" Beauchamp spoke up. "There's been a problem with her."
"What kind of problem?"
"She better be ok." Bass interjected.
The man gestured behind him and the doors opened. Three men came out, leading Charlie. At first, Bass was so relieved to see her, and then horror sunk in. She had a metal color locked around her throat and her arms were bound behind her back. Instead of a leash, they guided her with metal poles. She was struggling against them, but her attempts were futile. Her hair was matted and dirty and her face was coated in dried blood. Her eyes were what scared him the most. They looked dead.
"What the hell did you do to her?!" Bass yelled.
At the sound of his voice, her eyes raised to meet his, he thought he saw a bit of life in them, but it was gone too quick to be sure. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room and she quieted her struggles a bit.
"What the hell is this?"
"Sir, when we tried to get her in her new clothes, she killed one of our men."
"How the fuck did she do that without a weapon?"
"With one of the scarves, she strangled him. The next one we sent in, she jammed her thumbs in his eyes and killed him. The last one, she bit through his throat."
Bass' eyes widened. He stared at her. No wonder her eyes looked dead.
"Damn!" The king exclaimed. "She is vicious. Maybe she really is one of your Officers."
"After we finally got her subdued with more men, she tried to bite through her own wrists to kill herself."
Charlie finally spoke. "I'll die before I let you make me into one of them." Her voice was gravelly and flat, but there was no doubting how serious she was.
"Let her go now!" Bass ordered.
The King looked at him. "Now, I've been nice to you. Offered you a meal, offered you a chance to talk treaty and all you've done is try and order me around and then threaten me, like you have some right."
It was then that Bass realized his mistake. He had thought coming in and showing strength might gain him some respect. Instead, he had made the King look weak with his own lack of respect and demands. There was no way he could just let them go now, his men would view it as cowardly and he would be removed from power. The king continued.
"I'm not sure whether to kill you outright or just cut off pieces of you to send to Matheson." He looked at Charlie. "How bout that darlin'? What would your uncle do if he got one of your eyes? They are a pretty blue color." Charlie started jerking again.
"NO!" Bass yelled. "Look, I'm sorry, all right. I didn't mean any disrespect. General Matheson put her under my care and I need to make sure she gets back all right. You want to keep me, fine, but let her go."
"I don't think so. I don't have to do anything. I think we're gonna keep you for a bit. Since you both are such good fighters, maybe I want to see this first hand. We could use some entertainment around here."
Bass moved to try and strike at him, but before he could strong arms grabbed he. He tensed to begin fighting, but he noticed several guns pointed at Charlie.
"You keep that up and I'll shoot her in the kneecap." The king told him. He immediately stilled. "That's better." He looked at his men. "Take them to one of the cages. Make sure they have water, but no food. We don't want them too well cared for."
"We can talk about that treaty with Texas." Bass tried again. "I'll get them to agree, just let her go!"
"Man, you still giving orders. What's it gonna take for you to realize you aren't in charge around here?" He motioned with his hand and one of them hit him with the butt of their gun, blackness overtook him.
Bass came to suddenly. The air was so thick with stench and humidity it made him gag. He started breathing shallow through his mouth. He looked around; he was hanging in a cage above the water. There was a chain attached at the top they must use to raise and lower it. He looked in the other direction and Charlie was sitting in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees, but the collar was still around her neck.
"Charlie." He moved quickly across to her despite the pain in his head. "Charlie? Are you ok?" She stared off and didn't meet his eyes. "Charlie, did they hurt you? Are you ok?" He asked again. Finally she met his eyes.
"I can't get the taste of blood out of my mouth." She said. He closed his eyes for a moment at the sick feeling he got at what she had been through. He looked around and saw the water they provided. It looked relatively clean; he grabbed some in his hands and held it out to her. She leaned forward and sipped some of it before it all dripped out. He could tell she was in shock by her movements. He just hoped that it was something she could recover from. She swished the water in her mouth and spit it out of the bars. They repeated this several times, until she motioned with her hand. Bass watched her.
"Charlie, did they hurt you? Did they….?" He faltered. He didn't want to say the words.
"I wouldn't let them. I couldn't. Those women, what they do to them. They torture and beat and rape them until they are so broken they are desperate for any sort of affection. They thank them for using them, they apologize for the random beatings, even when they don't do anything wrong." She shook her head. "I wouldn't let them do that to me. I'd rather die first."
He couldn't help it. He reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. He was so relieved that she was ok and they hadn't raped her. He felt tears burn in the back of his eyes, but he wouldn't allow emotions to overtake him any more than they already had. For a few seconds she was just limp, and then her arms came around and hugged him back just as tight.
After a bit they both let go. He saw her eyes shutter her emotions and breathed a sigh of relief. She was in there. She was just in survival mode. Now, it was just up to him to find a way out of here. Of course she could read his mind, as always.
"So, is this your idea of a rescue? Because I've gotta say, it kinda sucks." He couldn't help it, he laughed out loud.
He needed to get the dried blood off of her. He stripped off his shirt, it was too hot and muggy for it anyway. He ripped a piece off and dipped in the water. He started wiping her face. He was only slightly surprised she let him.
"No matter what happens," She spoke suddenly. "Please don't let them…"
"I won't." He told you.
She grabbed the hand that was wiping away the blood.
"I mean it." She told him.
"I know." He looked into her eyes.
"Bass, promise me." She urged. She had never called him that before.
"I promise, I will kill you myself before let them touch you."
She searched his eyes for the truth. Finding what she was looking for she lowered her head a released his arm. He prayed, something that was extremely foreign to him, that this was a promise he wouldn't have to keep.
A/N: Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and following this. It's so nice that people are taking their time to step into my imagination.
I feel like I need to make a disclaimer about my version of New Orleans. I don't want to come off seeming prejudice, because I'm really not. The description of New Orleans post Blackout, comes from 10 years of living there and having a roommate who was stuck in the Dome after Katrina and his experiences there. I actually love the city and hate that its been ignored and dismissed to the point that it's allowing the ignorance and hatred to grow. The people in New Orleans are actually extremely hard workers, that will survive given any circumstances, they've just been mistreated for generations. Hopefully in the next chapter I will flesh out the King a bit more so that comes across clearly.
I got some great feedback from a close friend and another writer on my ideas about the nano. This will allow me to finish my outline and I'm going to try to have the next chapter up by Sunday.
Thanks again!