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Planes, helicopters and automobiles, Katya thought with a gust of annoyance as she exited the town car. It was too much to bear so close to the holidays, disgusting tourists would be invading soon. Something about rootless individuals with their germ ridden petri dishes they called their children that nettled Katya to no end. One couldn’t shop in London now in any season without being crushed in the seething mass that was flounced down Regent street with a charge card and no taste. Paris had long since given up being anything but a whore for whomever had the money to spend. It was probably why Syphilis was called the French disease once upon a time.
Katya was quite convinced that if this meeting didn’t suit she would hire an assassin herself and do away with this man. She could understand hiding, if you were a terrorist, hiding made sense but Andorra? Yes, Andorra was a lovely country, full of rich people on the run from the tax collector. But there was nothing else here really. Except for skiing and tax evading why come? She could do all that in Switzerland. Amun Sul was calling her name, angering her further.
The building that had been chosen for their meet and greet was a small converted church. The cobble worked stone exterior walls could very easily have dated the structure but Katya found she didn’t care. There seemed to be so many churches in this country, who would miss one that was now a residence? Located a few back alleys from the main streets, she could see a courtyard in the back, separating them from a tall high rise of steel.
Akbar her black Bombay cat, nestled closer in the fur rug she had wrapped him, purring as rubbed his face on her sleeve. The thick wool would carry his scent for a few days, making his mates jealous that he had been so favored to be taken on her trip. Akbar must have seen her Nazgul security for he stiffened suddenly, claws springing into the wrap.
Grabbing the back of his neck, Katya made a hissing noise at him for which he released his claws just as quick. She had no tolerance for any of her cats’ mercurial moods and while she couldn’t fault him his reaction to Khamul, Akbar knew his place when he lay in her arms. The bodyguard turned his back to her, his clothes just as dark as hers in the graying twilight. Watching him watch the street, Katya pushed the bell and waited for admittance.
A small woman with a lowered head opened the door with an even lower bow. No words were spoken, she was a servant after all, and Katya was expected. She placed the Bombay cat on a nearby chair to remove her overcoat and hand Akbar’s wrap to the woman as well. Glancing at the hall mirror, her chignon was still in place, tidy as she liked it. The tailored black suit she wore, enhanced the pallor of her pale skin but gave her a majestic look. Picking up the feline once more, Katya indicated she was ready to be presented to their host. The servant led them into another room at the left, Khamul took a sentry position at the opposite wall.
“Katya! Katya Beruthiel! Bizi naiz, eta arnasa gisa!” A voice boomed like thunder from the corner of the room. A shorter man than one would expect to be paired to such a voice strutted across the room to take her hand.
Katya shifted Akbar to bestow the little man her hand, though Akbar growled maliciously the entire time.” Beitan Jarrai. It has been too many years.”
There was no smile on her face, it would probably crack if she tried. Katya wasn’t not a warm person nor cared if others were at their ease. Her role was political advisor to Sauron no more, no less. The fact that she had never met him face to face was a bonus. No doubt he would find her as cold as so many people had over the years.
“My, My.. Katya. Do you count the years? I thought you had nine lives like all of your cats.” A voice grated from the dark left corner that had expelled Beitan.
Katya turned to face her opponent, a thin equally dark man. “Mordu al Baraddur. I had heard you were coming to treat for Sauron as well. I was surprised and repulsed in equal measures.”
The thin man scuttled from the corner, his own Nazgul bodyguard one step behind him. Katya and Mordu shared a Welsh heritage with their dark hair and eyes though Katya’s was tempered with Slavic Gypsy blood. The combination gave her a darkly regal air that had bypassed Mordu completely. Whatever had been thrown into his genetic cauldron had produced a mongrel of hideous proportions.
His ugliness notwithstanding, Mordu was a brilliant lawyer. He handled most of the overseas explorations due to his numerous contacts in the criminal world. Mordu had facilitated the meeting today, here in Andorra despite Katya having an inside track with the revolutionary. Sauron had come to come to depend on his lieutenant for most of the face to face meetings since the boss refused to leave Jerusalem for any reason. Mordu was in turn slavishly devoted to their employer in ways that were similar to Katya but for different reasons.
“I wonder that you would leave your hiding place for any length of time, Katya. Your debt to my lord Sauron must be large indeed.” Mordu jabbed the words at her looking for weakness. He was hilariously resentful that he had company for this meeting.
“I have wondered on occasion why you changed your name, Mordu. Were your crimes so heinous or was your previous name so common?” If Mordu might jab at her, she would respond in kind no matter the entertainment they were providing for Jarrai. Her reasons for being here were none of Mordu’s concern.
“I am sure your board meetings are just as amusing, but my friends the day wanes and there is much to say.” The Basque advised with a large grin.
Retracting her claws, she continued to stare at her adversary. Katya had been asked to sit in to make sure the meeting was every thing it should be and to keep a leash on Mordu. Sauron had been outlaying large sums of money to Harad Espana, Beitan Jarrai’s Basque revolution. Now it was time for him to make good on what he had promised. Terrorists attacks on French soil. Beitan had come further than many revolutionary leaders before to the point that Spain and France had him on a watch list for the last two years. If he was successful in unifying the Basque populations in southwestern France and Northeast Spain, the shockwaves would be devastating to the European Union.
“I am so glad you have come, dear Katya. Your thoughts are much needed.” Beitan cajoled in a heavy accent that was neither Spanish nor Basque. Just heavy.
“You have a good head on your shoulders, Beitan. I doubt that I could sway you in a direction that you already didn’t want to go.” The three participants took seats around a low table laid with hot tea and assorted finger food.
“Too kind. Katya. This man would have me wage open war in France. That kind of war will cause a backlash for the Basque cause.” Beitan poured a cup of tea, adding cream.
“Kill the unpopular politicians. The ones no one will miss. Do it in one day, a simultaneous strike.” Katya advised, stroking Akbar to calm him.
“Even the unpopular ones would cause a stir. I think caution is needed for the interim.” Jarrai advised, holding his cup and saucer.
Letting go of the Bombay, Katya brushed imaginary hairs from her long black skirt. She effected a sigh that drew the men’s attention in such a way that made her want to smile. Akbar would be a distraction as he gambled and nosed his way about the room allowing her to study the men at her leisure. Mordu’s agenda was clear, he would be the other side of their two pronged attack on Jarrai. But the Basque was being crafty, he had something up his sleeve. He might not say outright that he wanted to bomb the French, they would have to romance him into it. As if she wanted to waste that kind of time.
“Beitan, you want your nation. We are prepared to help you. I do not understand why you hesitate.” Katya pushed forward with the proposition so that he could understand how serious they were.
“I want it, I do but I know I will never rule a Basque nation. Particularly if my hands are dripping blood, like you propose.” He gave her a level look as he words hung in the air as if suspended by the rafters.
“So you don’t want to be the power behind the throne, you want the chair too.” Mordu piped in with the obvious response. He motioned to his Nazgul security who immediately left the room.
“Only I can be sure that we will have what we need to survive. “ Jarrai snarled punching the air with emphatic gestures.
The Black Numenorean returned carrying a heavy plastic case. It didn’t seem heavy, whatever inside was as much as a surprise to Katya as it was to Beitan. The Nazgul stood to the side, waiting for Mordu’s instructions.
“I see. Here is a little something to help that along.” Mordu indicated to the guard to bring him the case. “A little something a very nice captive scientist has worked up for us.”
The mealy mouth of a man took the case, setting it on the table. Somehow he managed to push the food and teapot out of the way without a major calamity. Taking a key from an inside pocket, Mordu unlocked the case with a flourish.
“Viola. We call it Morgul Poison.” Inside the case were ten large vials of black liquid with the same viscosity as crude oil. Katya’s lip curled in disgust.
“Poison?” Jarrai asked with a perplexed expression. “I was hoping for assistance with the Belfalas Shipping. Not poison.”
“Why Belfalas?” Mordu asked, annoyed that his gift didn’t get its due. “This poison is state of the art! It is built on the Brown Recluse spider venom with touches of Skorgrims Bloom. It will eat the flesh as it kills the victim.”
“Belfalas Shipping has recently bought Edhellond cruise lines. They operate in the Mediterranean and along the western European coast. But the parent company itself is worldwide. It would be very beneficial to move men and equipment in such a manner.” Jarrai continued to gaze at the vials with some trepidation.
“Imrahil Swan is the owner.” Mordu told him with a frustrated groan. ”Very old school in his business practices. I would look elsewhere if you are in need of a smuggler.”
Jarrai looked disgruntled as he digested Mordu’s words. There must have been a deal on the boards between him and the previous owner of the cruise line for him to be so put out about the sale. A introduction might be possible in the future but for the next year, it would be laughable.
“Use Morgul.It will not be traced to you unless you claim it.” Mordu promised as he scarfed at the finger food, crumbs falling from his mouth.
“How do I know it works? What about Belfalas? Edhellond was perfect for my plans I have in place for the next eighteen months.” Jarrai whined as he replaced the vial he was studying.
“Probably why they sold, Beitan.” Katya spoke up as she watched Mordu stuff his face. “Cruise owners rarely sell on the fly.”
“A shipment of Morgul has been sent to some of our associates in the New England area of the U.S. and in Europe. If you use this now, the reports will blend in with their use, looking like an odd occurrence or an outbreak of some new species of spider. Like I said, no one will know it is you, unless you claim it.” Mordu reiterated. Gods, Katya thought as she jingled the training mouse for Akbar to return, he is really harping on that subject.
“I shall think upon this matter. Mordor has been a great friend to our struggle, we are forever in their debt.” Beitan nodded to Katya, ignoring Mordu completely. Like her, he was singularly repulsed by his table etiquette.
Katya could feel the frustration as he demurred, angry that Mordu had been so impatient. “Of course. Beitan, I think I will be take advantage of this trip to explore the local hot springs tomorrow. Might you have some recommendations?”
He looked surprised at her request, Katya’s distaste for anything wet was very well known. “I would suggest the Aigua Ombrivola. I will give the address to your driver.”
“Most appreciated. Mordu, I hope your trip home lands you in jail somewhere.” Without a backward glance, Katya Beruthiel left the house.
*********************
Katya sat at the edge of the pool, staring at the surface as she mentally reviewed the last six hours.
She had emailed Sauron before she went to bed last night, advising him that Mordu had been too pushy with the poison. They needed those politicians removed and quickly before any type of legacy might be established after their death. It was a harsh thing but identifying early those men who would be problem later was essential. Mordor Corporation had every intention of being a sustainable entity for many years to come.
While Katya understood the viability of what they had proposed, Beitan was not one to take something being rammed down his throat. He had not achieved all that he had in the last eight years since they had met in Amum Sul without a spine of steel. Last night, she could see him hedging, Beitan knew that these men needed to go. While violence would achieve the immediate desired effect of chaos, France could always declare a state of emergency. The fifth republic would fall, anarchy would reign but Jarrai would not be the leader as he wanted.
Mordu had whined like a kicked dog the whole afternoon because they had not received Beitan’s assent. Angry wasn’t the word she would use for the emotion Katya felt, rage wasn’t either. Mordu might understand criminals but there wasn’t a revolutionary on the planet that thought of themselves in that fashion. Criminals had purpose, a revolutionary had a cause. Only the best international political analysts knew the difference between the two.
Katya was the best in the business.
No, she had been very emphatic in her email to the boss, wanting him to understand her continued commitment to their cause. But Mordu needed to slink back to the mire where the kingpins wallowed and stay out of her playing field. Now she was sitting at the edge of a renovated hot spring that dated back to Nero’s time, wrapped in a bath towel in a last ditch effort to save this situation. All because the little ass licker had been pushy.
Steam from the water collected in the air, making it more humid than she liked. Katya had the forethought to style her hair in a tight bun but at the top of her head with only a few tendrils escaping to plaster themselves to her long neck. There was gray in her hair now, white wings at the temples that had not been there years ago, but they made no difference. Katya remembered the look in Jarrai’s eyes was she rode him to completion that night in Switzerland, the surprise of gasping pleasure.
There were few women in the world that had the genetic abnormality that she possessed, all of them were relatives of a distant sort. Katya was raised by a mother that hosted a string of lovers well into her dotage. While it might have been unseemly, it had been very educational. Katya was born with an extra lining of muscles along the vaginal wall, used properly her pussy worked like a set of fingers during intercourse. She could play a man like a Baby Grand piano and he would always call in the morning, sometimes as soon as he left.
Watching the revolving door that led to her mother’s bedroom, Katya had a healthy distaste for sex even now. Men that could be led by the fleshy appendage between their legs were beneath her literally and figuratively, she didn’t want to spare the time to afford them her contempt. But some men, like Beitan, her employer had a use for in the days to come. So tonight, Katya would make the Basque scream and wail until he ejaculated inside her, maybe more than twice.
The door opened behind her, the draught was cold against her skin. Khumal was standing sentry, he knew who she was expecting. The wet slap of large feet on the stone signaled one person but the absence of rustling told her the newcomer was barely clothed. A thick fingered hand ghosted down the back of her long neck to lay heavily on a bare shoulder. Katya gritted her teeth to fight her instinctual response to flinch or jerk away. She must act the part of a lover, so tonight she would be an actress.
“You have no idea how excited you make me.” Jarrai’s voice rumbled through the space.
“It is unintentional, I assure you.” Katya pushed a smile into her tone though it never made it to her face.
“Your coldness excites me.” He traced a finger over the bone until he reached the clavicle’s hollow. “There is so much we could do together, if you would but join me.”
“Sauron has my loyalty besides what you want is limiting.” Katya replied to his offer, even as her flesh crawled at his continued touch. “I do not like limits.”
He chuckled behind her, his fingers never slowing. Eight years ago, Sauron had backed him in his little power play for control of his group. Katya had been the closer for that deal, though she had balked when told to have sex with him. She had caved in the end, well compensated for the very messy night in Beitan’s bed. Now she found herself admiring Sauron more for the wisdom he had displayed then.
“You like your associate even less.” Beitan released her to take a seat to one side. They would bargain and in the end he would take her counsel so things might move forward.
“It is an old rivalry.” Katya looked at him now beside her. Eight years had not been as kind to him as it had to her.
“Many years ago I took your advice. Now my world has grown because of this. I would listen again.” Jarrai had a lovely smile despite heavy jowls, could charm bees out of their honey if he tried. But it was wasted on her.
“Revolutions are nothing but the natural course of movement. When a person is oppressed, they either break or become stronger. But the actual transformation into either state is movement in and of itself. Your movement is stalled, we want to help you jumpstart it.” Her voice was flat, she had no emotional stake in this discussion. Katya didn’t care one way or the other.
Beitan seemed to weigh her words as he stared over the pool as if the rising mist would divine the right answer. Slouching in a tightly wrapped towel, a spare tire bulged over the white terrycloth. Katya squashed her impatience at the lull, rubbing her neck as if to think herself but also ignore the revulsion of the touch his oily skin had left. Beitan’s eyes followed her fingers, his nose flared in response. He was already aroused, she thought as she looked at his cock under the towel, hopefully he had not taken Viagra!
“What would be the delivery system for the poison?” He asked seriously but continued to stare at her lustfully.
“I will send you a list by courier in the morning of the politicians the easiest means of infection. I would advise an explosion or assassination, to throw off the pattern. Also, I will include an introduction to Castamir Anarion. He owns shipping interests in several parts of the world and would be sympathetic to your endeavors.” She knew better than to bring up Belfalas, better to give him an alternative.
“That would be most kind, pussycat.” He gave her the sly grin, taking her fingers to his lips to nibble at the ends. It was a not so subtle signal that he was ready for the second part of their meeting.
“There is a bench behind you.” She told him quietly.
They rose together, him sitting down before she mounted him. Katya had inserted a generous portion of lubricant into her canal earlier so that she might have a smoother session. Asking him to wear a condom was an insult, as if he might have a disease. Sauron had advised her that the last two physicals had shown no stds or anything other than high blood pressure.
Trying not to roll her eyes as he groaned and huffed below, Catya turned her thoughts to more productive matters. Should she get a white cat to go along with all the black Bombays? Maybe a Persian. Definitely white.
Translations:
Aigua Ombrivola – Catalon for shady water.. reference to the Shadowy spring
Beitan Jarrai – it is the motto for the ETA, a Basque movement which means Keep Up on Both..
Edhellond - Elf harbor founded in the first age, other names are Amroth’s Haven
Bizi naiz, eta arnasa gisa – Basque for ‘as I live and breathe.’