Wine, Women and War

‘You do that and we’ll all die,’ replied Miss Rook in an even voice, holding his gaze. ‘And you know it.’

Through the door came two messengers, a young man and a young woman. Neither were over twelve and both had that special look in their eyes possessed by only the most indoctrinated and obsessed.

They passed identical messages to their leaders; the boy to Colonel Panix and the girl to Miss Rook.

‘You’ve got to be joking,’ said Rook. She looked up at Panix who shared her disbelief.

She leaned over and whispered in the girls ear. ‘Eva, notify Madame Pink.’

* * *

When their lips parted, Donnie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to run.

Prime stepped backwards, pulling Donnie along with her.

She turned to the surveillance camera above the door, winked and blew it a kiss, then turned and slapped Donnie hard across the face.

He extended his jaw and rubbed his face from the white-pain in his cheek.

‘Shit,’ he said. ‘What the hell…’

‘Just getting in the mood, darling,’ she said and leaned forwards to kiss him once more.

* * *

In a dark room a single giant screen displayed an image of two people kissing:

Prime and Donnie.

‘The bastards,’ spat Panix. ‘That’s disgusting.’

As Donnie dropped his pants, Prime glanced up at the camera, winked and flipped it the bird.

‘Certainly horribly biological,’ said Miss Rook in a low growl while staring daggers at the screen. ‘No, Patricia. Fuck you.’

Panix turned on his heel, fury in his eyes and stepped towards his young assistant.

‘They’ll be gone by the time we get there,’ said Miss Rook, predicting his thoughts. ‘This needs a different approach.’

* * *

‘Lets give our friends something to remember us by,’ said Prime, shimmying up onto the desk. She checked her watch. ‘We’ve got five minutes.’

Donnie dropped his pants…

‘You can last that long, can’t you..?’

BZORNT!

He woke with a killer headache and groaned slowly while checking his genitalia for evidence of alteration.

Ah, there they were, right where he’d left them.

A sharp and loud beeping assaulted his ears leaving him feeling as if he’d been aurally mugged.

An eye slowly opened and focussed on a mobile telephone not far from his face.

A message on its face flashed on and off.

Click to see the next installment: 1-8:The secret of the lost gavel

Antibes, France, August 2005 and Thornbury, Australia, August 2006

Thanks to:

Diamanda Galás for permission to use the lyrics from her song “Do You Take This Man”, from the album “The Sporting Life” (Mute Records, 1994)

Daniel for the programming help.