“We need to go,” he said tightly, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The police are coming. We’ll be stuck here forever if they find us.”

“Help her, damn you!!”

“It’s too late! Kael, please! We have to go! Now!!”

“No! I won’t leave her!”

“You have to! I’ve gotten us passage out of the country. We must leave, Kael! We must!!”

“No. I won’t leave.” Looking down, Kael gently wiped a strand of hair clinging to Lao Ma’s full lips. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sobbing. “Lao Ma, I’m so, so sorry. Please, come back to me. Please.”

The sirens came closer. Squealing tires were heard as the cars skid to a stop on the wet pavement outside the establishment.

“There’s no more time, Kael,” Geraldo warned, grasping her arm and trying to pull her to her feet.

“Leave me alone, damnit!”

“I can’t! I won’t! Lao Ma is dead, Kael. There’s nothing more you can do for her. “We need to get away. Now!”

Kael looked from the dark man to the dead woman, listening as the sounds of car doors slamming and men yelling penetrated the thick walls of Lao Ma’s home. She bowed her head, placing a last, tender kiss on the woman’s soft brow. “You’ll always be a part of me, Lao Ma,” she whispered, stroking the long, jet hair for the last time.

Slowly, her eyes hardened to arctic ice. She released Lao Ma, then stood.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

END OF SECTION TWO

DESERT STORM

Part 10

by: SwordnQuill

Disclaimers: The characters of Xena, Gabrielle, Lao Ma, Alti, Borias, and everyone else who sounds familiar belong to Pac Ren and Universal Studios. I am not making money off of this story.

Genre Disclaimer: Ok. Bear with me, please, because this is kinda tough to explain. Sometime last year, I read a story on the internet that moved me so much, I was inspired to write a sort of companion piece to it. That story was “Lost Soul Walking” by DJWP. In her words, “This is NOT UberXena fiction. It just starts out like it is.” The same can be said for this piece. While not directly related to “Lost Soul Walking”, “Desert Storm” can be considered a sort of prequel to it. It is a story, if you will, about the lifetime before the one depicted in that fabulous, outstanding story. (Can you tell I loved it?) In addition, this is somewhat of an ambitious piece of fiction, in that I am attempting (don’t know if I’ve succeeded, but I’ve attempted) to take the entire X:WP universe and modernize it. We start, in updated terms, with my version of Xena’s betrayal by Caesar (seen in “Destiny”), and continue up through the X:WP episode known as “Remember Nothing”. The plot will be very recognizable to you. It’s meant to be that way.

Special note: Because of this, Gabrielle does not appear, except in offhand mention, in a great deal of the first half of this story. Do not look for her, because you won’t find her. After all, she was not a part of ‘evil Xena’s’ life. If she were, things might have turned out differently, but because this is based on the premise of “Lost Soul Walking” it cannot happen differently. Gabrielle will, however, make her presence known, and that quite strongly, in the second half of the story. If you can hang on till then, I believe that you will not be disappointed.

Sexuality and Violence Disclaimers: We’re dealing with an updated dark Xena through much of the first half, and an updated redeemed Xena through the second. There’s gonna be violence. There are gonna be naughty words. There are also descriptions of sexual activity in this work. There are allusions to heterosexual sex, but nothing graphic. There are some graphic (though I hope tasteful) scenes of sexual expression between women as well. That is how I see the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, and that is how I will continue to write it.

And, finally, thanks: To, as always, the incomparable Mike. A better beta and a better friend one could never hope for. Thank you also, as always, to Mary D, who rescued this story from the refuse heap and begged me to keep going on it. If you hate it, blame her. <w> Grateful and heartfelt appreciation goes out to DJWP, for continuing to write stories that grab me somewhere above the liver and giving her kind permission to mention her story in these disclaimers. If you haven’t read her stories, please, do yourself a favor and do so. Finally, this story is dedicated to a group of people without whom I would most probably be living on the streets. Elizabeth, Rachel, Sulli, and the rest of the “Get Sue to Atlanta” crew, this one’s for you!

Feedback: As always is gratefully appreciated. If you wrote to me regarding “Redemption” during the month of September to early October and I haven’t responded, please allow me the honor of apologizing in public. It was then that I was at my lowest point and making ready to move to my new home. Your words of praise and encouragement for my writing kept me firmly out of the pit of depression I was falling into and I shall be forever grateful to each and every one of you who took the time out to feed this bard. And for those of you patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for Redemption’s sequel, fear not, for with the conclusion of this piece, that piece will be started. Any and all who wish to may write me at SwordnQuil@aol.com. I’ll continue to do my best to answer each and every email. An exploding mailbox is a good thing to have. Thanks again!

DESERT STORM

by: Sword’n’Quill (Susanne Beck)

PART THREE: Adventures in the Death Trade

“Help me. And I will make you Destroyer of Nations.” Alti: Adventures in the Sin Trade

23 December 1991 Rodriguez Compound Medellin, Colombia

With only two days to go before Christmas, Medellin was ablaze in the colors of the season. Churches, storefronts and houses all displayed their finery in preparation for the holiday’s celebration.

Within the heavily walled confines of the Rodriguez compound, however, the air was more funerary than festive. The bedroom, in particular, had taken on the look of a dismal cavern. Heavy curtains masked the large windows, blocking out the bright Colombian sun. In the fireplace, a cheerless fire blazed, the flames’ light reaching out and turning a glass of Cabernet sitting on the table the color of freshly spilled blood.

Kael sat slumped in a chair facing the fireplace, staring blindly into the flames as if trying to divine the meaning of her existence from the shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Just outside the doorway, Geraldo stood, watching Kael watch the fire, uneasy down to his very soul. She had been like this for months, now; ever since the harrowing escape from China. Lao Ma’s death seemed to have extinguished whatever tiny bit of light had dared to live within her. This new Kael was more cruel, more ruthless, more utterly heartless than ever before. It was as if causing pain, anguish and death was the only thing keeping her own demons at bay.

When she wasn’t on some killing spree, Kael sequestered herself in the bedroom, staring blindly at nothing for long hours. She hardly spoke at all anymore, except for a few tersely voiced commands which she issued to friends and enemies alike.

Her soul seemed a dead and rotting thing.

But still, for all that, Geraldo found himself still desperately in love with the woman. His heart was a traitorous thing, not even his own anymore.

“Stop staring at me before I take your eyes out with this poker,” Kael spat out without ever turning her head from the fire.

Biting back a sigh, Geraldo stepped fully into the room, closing the distance between them in several long strides. Careful to stay out of touching distance, something the woman, of late, detested except for those times when the lust of killing led her to take him to their bed and wear out his mind and body with the heat of her blazing passion, Geraldo looked down at Kael’s bowed head. “I’m due at a meeting shortly. I would like it if you would join me,” he said quietly.

Kael slowly turned her cold, dead eyes toward him. Her lip curled slightly. “Does this ‘meeting’ involve bloodshed?”

“No.”

“Then get the fuck outta here. I’m not interested.” She turned back to the fire.

“You’re never interested in anything anymore! Except killing.”

Kael snorted. “Smart boy you are, Einstein. It took you this long to figure that out?”

“Kael, please. Diego Cordova has asked to meet with us. I think it would be interesting to see what he has to say.”

“The only thing interesting about Diego Cordova is how high he’ll scream when I pull his balls out by the roots.”

“He has important connections in Indonesia. It might be valuable to us to form an alliance with him.”

The dark head shook. “That’s all you’re good for anymore, Geraldo. Talk. Where’s the man who used to have the jewels to rip the hearts out of assholes like Cordova, huh? That useless piece of shit is so far beneath you that he’d have to look up to see the soles of your shoes, and yet you want to talk to him. Form an alliance with him.” She threw up her hands in disgust, still staring into the fire. “You’re a weak, pathetic excuse for a man, Geraldo. A spineless jellyfish is what you’ve become. You make me sick.”

“Kael … .” Anything further Geraldo might have said was interrupted by the chiming of the door. The jaunty tune trailed off to silence, only to start up again, bare seconds later. And then again.

Kael snapped her head around, her eyes narrow and murderous. “Where the fuck is the hired help, Geraldo? Packed off to their little families to spread some Christmas cheer?”

The look on Geraldo’s face was all the answer she needed. She blew out a disgusted breath and rose from her chair as the door chime rang yet again.

“I’ll get it,” Geraldo offered.

Kael smirked, patting his face as she passed by. “No, that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, little man. Just relax and rest up for that great meeting of the minds you’re gonna have.”

Leaving Geraldo to stand impotently in the darkened bedroom, Kael made her way down the winding staircase, her ire ratcheting up another notch each time the doorbell rang. She found herself wishing the caller was a religious fundamentalist hoping to teach her the error of her heathen ways. She would have fun teaching them the true meaning of the word ‘righteous’.

Coming to the bottom of the stairs, she crossed the floor quickly, then grasped the door handle, yanking the door open savagely, rage painting her face in harsh tones.

Kael, whose unusual height made it rare for her to have to look up into the eyes of anyone, especially another woman, found herself doing just that as she froze in mid snarl. The woman facing her topped her by a good two inches and was, to put it simply, gorgeous. She was tall and sleek, her curves absolutely dangerous. Her hair was a gentle brown, long, and soft-looking as it was drawn away from the striking features of her face. Her lips were a bit too misshapen, her cheeks a little too sharp to give her a classic beauty, but her deep caramel eyes, accented by heavy eyeliner, more than made up for it, in Kael’s book. And that body … . “What do you want?” she asked finally, in a tone far less harsh than she had at first intended.

The woman cocked her head, her entire essence rippling with barely repressed sensuality. She smiled. “You.” Her voice was low and whispery, with a whiskey and cigarettes hoarseness that made Kael’s already surging hormones stand up and take gleeful notice.

“Me, huh?” Kael made a show of eyeing the entire package, slowly, lewdly.

The grin broadened. One long, slender finger drew itself down the middle of Kael’s broad chest. “Oh, yes,” the woman purred. “We’ll have a lot of fun together, you and I.” The finger dipped into the waistband of Kael’s slacks, tugging slightly. “More fun than you ever dreamed.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed as a dark smile bloomed on her face. “So, you know what’s in my dreams, do you?”

“Oh yes,” the woman said again, her finger now trailing along Kael’s strong jawbone. “Full of such delicious imagery. Rage. Death. Fear. A veritable feeding ground for the senses.”

Cobra-quick, Kael reached up and snatched the stranger’s hand away from her face. Their eyes met and locked, each soul feeding off the palpable darkness in the other.

They might have stood that way forever, locked in an unending feedback loop of mutual rage, had Geraldo not chosen just that moment to make his presence felt behind Kael.

“You’re beginning to irritate me, Geraldo,” the American growled, still looking at the strange woman who had captured her interest. “And I really don’t think you wanna go there right now.”