Bad Company

by P A Duncan

  Alexei’s first round of trainees had come in second to Radd’s team. For this group, he’d cemented his position among the instructors by making a bet with Radd whether his or Alexei’s team would win.

  As the days and now weeks had passed, Alexei’s nightly walks had grown longer and taken more from his sleep. After dispatching his team to practice, he’d returned to the bungalow, taken a shower, and set his watch to wake him in two hours. He felt as if he’d barely closed his eyes when the chirping began.

  Somewhat refreshed, he headed for the editorial shop where Charlene worked on the latest issue of Tree of Liberty, Patriot City’s subscription newsletter. The September sun was warm, the air humid. His “couple of weeks” Patriot City had stretched to almost three months. He suspected, no, he knew, he’d come home to an angry wife and partner, but he understood that anger. He smiled to himself. He had ways of inducing her forgiveness. She’d put aside her anger with him when she saw the contents of Lewis’ computer.

  The Lincoln used as Elijah’s limo headed for the compound’s exit. From the back seat, Elijah saluted Alexei, and he returned it. For the last several weeks, Lewis had used Alexei and Radd exclusively for Elijah’s security when he ventured away from Patriot City. Alexei wondered why he hadn’t been sent on this excursion. He stopped and watched the limo exit, turning left. Elijah must be up to something, and Lewis didn’t want Alexei involved.

  Alexei entered the building where the women produced the newsletter and the ubiquitous pamphlets and brochures. It was air-conditioned for the computers they used. Charlene looked up when he entered and gave him a smile. They were a couple, after all. The other women gave her teasing glances. Charlene had told him the other women were shocked he didn’t beat her and that it was her duty to remind him of his responsibility to “discipline” his woman.

  He had no qualms about beating anyone who was a threat, but he wasn’t about to hit Charlene so she’d have bruises to show.

  The other women there, even those paired and some pregnant, gave him frank, appreciative stares. Lest that swell his head, Charlene had also explained as soon as she was pregnant, he’d be encouraged to impregnate other women, especially if Charlene’s child were a boy, a warrior.

  Boizhe moi, he was ready to get out of this place.

  “I’m almost finished,” Charlene murmured, eyes downcast. “Do you have time to wait for a moment?”

  “I will help,” he said.

  She looked up at him, fearful.

  “To make sure you do right,” he added.

  When he sat beside her, she murmured, “Tell me I’m not folding them right, and that you’ll do it.”

  He did that, and they fell into a rhythm. She collated; he folded and slipped the newsletter into a plain, white, unaddressed envelope.

  “The Lincoln left with Elijah inside,” he whispered.

  “Prison ministry.”

  American prisons were luxury hotels compared to Russian ones, but the U.S. penal system monitored who preached what. However, Aryan Nation had chapters inside many prisons.

  “For the man he’s mentioned in some sermons?” Alexei asked.

  “Yes. Ira Wayne Mathis. He and two other guys were some of Lewis’ earliest converts, when Patriot City was only a fax machine in Lewis’ apartment in Little Rock.”

  How had a Nazi war criminal ended up in Little Rock, Arkansas?

  “They did robberies to start the money flow. During one, Mathis shot and killed a sheriff and a shopkeeper. The cop because he was black; the shopkeeper because Mathis figured he was Jewish. His appeals are about to run out.”

  “Death penalty case?”

  Charlene nodded. “The final appeal is headed to the Supreme Court, and it doesn’t look good for ole Ira. Sorry. I mean, our white brother in patriotism about to be murdered by the godless Jew government.”

  Alexei ducked his head to hide a smile. The sarcasm was too reminiscent of Mai.

  “How much longer does he have?” he asked.

  “If the Supreme Court rejects his appeal, Ira Wayne will meet Yahweh in the spring.”

  One of the women had studied them for a while, a woman he’d seen with Radd. To Charlene, he said, his voice raised, “This is all wrong. What do you do in here that you waste my time to come fix it?”

  The woman looked at the floor.

  Charlene said, “I’m sorry, sir. We will do better.”

  “Make certain you do. Take these envelopes and seal them.”

  A few minutes later, they finished. Alexei stood and said, “Come with me.”

  The other women nudged each other and stole glances at Alexei and Charlene. They assumed he was dragging her away to have sex. They were almost outside when the intra-compound phone rang.

  “Hello,” said Radd’s woman. “Yes, sir. Charlene? Lewis needs to speak with you.”

  Charlene looked at Alexei, crossed the room, and took the phone.

  “Yes, sir, this is Charlene. I’ll be right there, sir.” Again, she looked at Alexei. “Yes, sir, he is. Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  She seemed a shade or two paler, but that could be a trick of the light. She hung up the phone and walked back to him. He exited with her behind him, and once outside, he clasped her arm and drew her close. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Elijah summoned me.”

  “He left.”

  “Yes. The limo will take him to a nearby private airstrip, where a helicopter will take him to the prison in Arkansas. He’ll be back in four or five hours, less time if he doesn’t get to see Mathis. I’m expected to wait for him. He probably gave the order before he left.”

  “It is unusual for him to ask for you?”

  “Yes. I deal with Lewis.”

  “Do you think something is up?”

  “Yes. Lewis wants to see you.”

  “Shall we make a run for it?” he asked, though he didn’t want that. He hadn’t gotten to the computer yet. Or Lewis.

  “Let’s not be hasty. Let it play out.”

  “Be prepared to go before Elijah gets back, if Lewis raises any suspicions with me.”

  “The computer…”

  “If we’re burned, that matters little. What does matter is getting out. Alive.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. NSA. I agree.”

  Lewis waited at the front door, his expression unreadable.

  “If this woman has done something wrong,” Alexei said, “I will fix it.”

  “No, she’s done nothing wrong,” Lewis said. He looked at Charlene. “Go on up, girl, and wait in the hall outside Elijah’s office. You can use the hall toilet if you need it and sit on the chair there, but make sure you’re standing when he arrives. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Charlene entered the house, passing by Lewis and giving Alexei a worried glance over her shoulder.

  “Sergei,” said Lewis, “you gave your men the afternoon off?”

  “No. They are expected to work. They need study time and target practice.”

  “Sehr gut. Come with me.”

  Inside Lewis’ office, Alexei sat across from his desk, but Lewis seemed distracted and didn’t speak.

  “Sir? Is something wrong?” Alexei asked, muscles tensed for action if he needed it.

  “No, nothing which cannot be fixed. Sergei, do you have any explosives experience?”

  “No, sir. I was tanker.”

  “Given your unit designation, I didn’t think so. Do you have comrades in this country who have this knowledge?”

  “Nyet. I am sorry.”

  “Do not worry, my son.”

  “May I ask why you need this knowledge?”

  “Tonight’s sermon is an important one, about a project we have in the making. In a few days, we are going to test a fertilizer bomb on the premises, a small one, but I am concerned it not be the dud.”

  Alexei allowed himself some inner satisfaction he’d been right about Patriot City. This development made getting the information from Lewis’ computer even more
critical.

  “Ach, I wish there were someone who could check the construction of this test bomb.”

  That would be my wife, Alexei thought.

  “We have researched extensively, and we are getting guidance from some experts,” Lewis said.

  “But you do not trust them?”

  Lewis smiled at him. “You are astute, son. They are the experts, but they are people I do not wish to deal with. Again, no matter. Now, we need to discuss Charlene. How are you and she getting along?”

  “It is well. She is obedient.”

  “Is there anything unsatisfactory about her?”

  “Nyet.”

  “Why have you not had sex with her?”

  Boizhe moi, this obsession with sex, Alexei thought. “I am not rutting animal. I want to make certain she is right woman for my child.”

  “You understood your responsibility about contributing to the next generation of Aryan warriors. As Elijah has said, ‘Those whom we cannot change, we will replace with our numbers.’ If she has been reluctant, she can be counseled.”

  Alexei had seen enough bruises on the women to know what that meant. “She has done her part,” he said.

  “Elijah told you to use her. Do you disobey him?”

  “No, sir. In Russia, I defied Party and married woman I wanted. I need time to make certain she is right mother for—”

  “Elijah chose her for you. That’s all you need to know. Sergei, I look to you to…” The man’s eyes clouded with tears. “I am not long for this world, I fear. I won’t see our redeeming blow, but you will for me. I have come to consider you my son, my heir. I do not want to kill you, but if you disobey Elijah, I will.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope you do.”

  “Da, I do.”

  “Go back to your bungalow and wait for Charlene.”

  The four-hour wait for Elijah put Charlene on an edge steeper than any she’d experienced since her early days at Patriot City. She’d made sure she’d fit in, she’d done everything asked of her, and she’d never been counseled. She’d dried enough tears and put ice packs on enough bruises on others to know what it meant. If she got “counseled” because of Mr. NSA’s reluctance to fuck, she was going to be one pissed off ATF agent.

  What Elijah had summoned her here for? Sex? If things didn’t go his way at the prison, he’d be angry. She wouldn’t let herself think about the kind of sex that would engender. Her acting skills would be put to the test.

  Her family was secular more than Reformed, and she’d prayed little in her life. Maybe now was a good time to start.

  She’d lost track of time, but a commotion at the front door focused her attention.

  “Goddamned, fucking Jew government!” Elijah said.

  “Calm yourself,” said Lewis. “Come with me.”

  Their voices faded when they went into Lewis’ office.

  Charlene composed herself with deep breathing. The door to Lewis’ office opened, and footsteps sounded on the stairs. She rose and cast her eyes to the floor.

  Elijah stopped in front of her, and she saw the bottom half of a business suit and shiny, black shoes.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone harsh and hard.

  “Prophet, Lewis told me to wait here for you.” She was glad her voice sounded normal.

  “Of course. I… I was distracted by something. Have you waited all this time?”

  “Yes, Prophet. I was happy to.”

  “Good, sweet girl,” he said, as if speaking to a child. “Will you give me ten minutes and knock?”

  “Yes, Prophet,” she murmured, but he’d already closed himself off in his room.

  She kept careful track of the time, and knocked on the door at the stroke of ten minutes.

  “Enter!” Elijah called.

  Another deep breath, and Charlene opened the door.

  Dressed only in a white, satin bathrobe, Elijah stood by the windows. The room smelled of the shower he must have taken. The light from the windows back-lit him, highlighting his hard body in the robe. However, his penis was flaccid. For that she was thankful.

  “Close the door,” he said.

  Her throat tight, Charlene obeyed.

  “How are you, Charlene?” he asked, his tone soft, cajoling.

  “I’m fine, Prophet.”

  “You’ve been with us two years, right?”

  “Yes, Prophet.”

  “Do you like it here in Patriot City?”

  “Of course, Prophet.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I found the true God here, Prophet, thanks to you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-two, Prophet.”

  “Are your monthly cycles regular?”

  Heat rose to her face. “Yes, Prophet.”

  “You’re no longer using condoms?”

  “No, Prophet.”

  “Do you understand you must be truthful to me?”

  Her mouth went dry. She swallowed and replied, “Of course, Prophet.”

  “Have you had intercourse with Sergei?”

  “No, Prophet.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s not interested.”

  “Has he explained himself?”

  What the hell had Mr. NSA told Lewis?

  “Not in specific words, Prophet. He talks a lot about his, uh, dead wife and how much she meant to him.”

  “Yes, that kind of devotion is hard to compete with. Do you offer yourself to Sergei?”

  “Yes. Every night.”

  “How does he react when you offer yourself?”

  “He turns away.”

  “Does he kiss you, touch you?”

  She thought about the times their hands had accidentally touched. Sometimes, his hand would linger until he looked at her. He’d snatch his hand away. “He stops himself, Prophet.”

  “Do you insist?”

  “Prophet, your teachings from Yahweh have shown me my place. It would be wrong for me to…” She broke off, her stomach now churning. She swallowed to keep from retching.

  “No, you’re right, and you’ve learned your lessons well. However, you need to examine your actions. I understand in your previous…role here, you were to give pleasure to any man we told you to, but this is a different situation. Now your role is to bring forth an army of Aryan warriors. Now, simply show yourself to be willing, available, compliant, eager to do whatever he asks. You must try harder at that behavior. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Prophet. I will do my best. May I thank you for advising me?”

  “Of course. I’m glad to do it, and I appreciate your willingness to listen. If there is no pregnancy within two months, you will be counseled. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Prophet.”

  Elijah continued to stare out the window, and Charlene couldn’t leave until he gave her permission. He turned around, his face hard and unyielding. Her eyes dipped back to the floor.

  “No,” he said, “look at me.”

  She looked up, and he crossed the room to her until his face was inches from hers. His eyes traveled all over her body, and her skin crawled. “Perhaps you don’t know how to arouse a man,” he murmured. “Imagine I’m Sergei, and I want to fuck. Show me how you’d arouse him.”

  Her eyes not leaving his, she tried to raise her arm. It failed her at first. The sight of her face in his dilated pupils encouraged her. If she didn’t do this, she would die. She’d resolved from her first minute in this place that would not happen.

  While she stroked and rubbed his penis, his expression never changed, even as his arousal became evident. When he was fully erect, she paused. He’d only instructed her to arouse him. He untied the robe, letting it fall open. He lay his hand where her neck met her shoulder, his thumb on her carotid artery.

  “Finish it,” he said, urging her to her knees.

  Charlene closed her eyes, imagining he was Sergei, and took him inside her mouth. His hand fisted i
n her hair and kept her head in place.

  After he came, he mopped her mouth and chin with his robe and helped her to her feet. She hoped he’d attribute her trembling legs to having been on her knees.

  “You did well,” Elijah said. “Have I ever invited you to my bed?”

  Again, her normal voice surprised her. “No, Prophet.”

  “How does that make you feel?”

  “Like the unworthy woman I am.”

  “You certainly proved your worthiness just now. I’m quite satisfied, and Sergei’s a fool if he doesn’t take advantage of that talented mouth of yours.”

  He leaned toward her, and Charlene was afraid he would kiss her. His lips, however, went to her ear. “After you give Sergei a son,” he whispered, “you’ll come to my bed and give me one.” He straightened and refastened his robe. “You’re a good Christian woman, Charlene. Perhaps it’s Sergei who needs counseling. Two months from today, we’ll talk again, and let’s hope you have some joyous news. Clean yourself in the hall bathroom. Will you leave?”

  Mindful the hall bathroom might be monitored, Charlene forced back the urge to vomit, the need to wash her mouth out with the hottest water she could stand. She washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face, refusing to look in the mirror. She’d always liked oral sex, giving or receiving. She wondered if she’d ever want any kind of sex after this. None of the men she’d slept with here had repulsed her as much as the last twenty minutes.

  All because Mr. NSA was a prig.

  She dried her face and composed herself. She walked down the stairs on legs threatening to give out on her.

  From a window in the bungalow, Alexei watched the road for the Lincoln’s return. When it pulled up the drive, he went to sit on the front steps to see Charlene when she returned.

  More than a half-hour after the car’s return he saw her heading down the path. She slewed from side to side, as if drunk, and had a smile pasted on her face. Even the most loutish of men could see it was forced, a bit too bright and too wide. He rose when she reached the bungalow. The smile faded and became something else. Anger, perhaps.

  “I guess we both had conversations about the same thing,” she said.