Kill The President's Women (Joe The Magic Man Series Book 2)

by Allan J. Lewis

  “So as long as they got the boy,” Morgan asked suspiciously, “there will be no war between the tribes?”

  “Oh there will be raids and other tiny attacks on my friend’s tribe but he cannot retaliate. If he do, they’ll kill the boy.”

  “So what does he expect us to do?”

  “They’ve had his son for eight months now. The Sheikh knows his son is alive and well. He has many spies, you see… he knows what family is holding the boy and where they are. And the plan is simple one.” Gomez laughed heartily. “It’s so simple it might just work.”

  “Even before I hear it, I don’t like it. But you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

  “Yes… He wants you to attack their camp at night, shouting in English so they think they being attacked by British soldiers. They will leave the boy alone and not even protect him, just to have the chance to kill some British infidels. Trust me, they hate the British so much. They will come running out of their tents shouting, ‘Death to the infidels!’ Yes, they will.” He gave a twisted smile as he pictured the slaughter. “And your men will rain down arrows on them, while the Sheikh’s men grab the boy and kill as many men as they can. The Sheikh thinks when they hear you shouting in English and find arrows in their bodies, they can never think it’s the Sheikh’s men. By the time they realize there only few of you, it will be too late. The deed is done.”

  Captain Morgan gave it some thought before asking, “The Sheikh knows I have only ten archers, and we’ve only got twenty arrows each?”

  “Yes, but he has as many men as other tribe, and he’s hoping surprise attack in darkness will work so well, they kill half the tribe before they know what’s happening.”

  They talked tactics for a while longer before Captain Morgan agreed, but on one condition: if they rescued the boy, Jean would be set free to come home with them. It didn’t take Captain Gomez long to say it should be alright, for the Sheikh would pay anything to have his son back.

  “So Captain Morgan,” Captain Gomez said, smiling deviously, “do you say you will take on this little war of tribes? And will all your men agree to such suicide mission?”

  “My men and I have grown fond of my squire and his wife, and would be willing to fight for her freedom as well as ours.”

  “Very good then!” Captain Gomez exclaimed. “I waste no more time and get back to the Sheikh. You and your men will follow me with girl to the Sheikh’s village. I’m afraid I must keep you tied up until I hand you over – until the Sheikh pays me, of course. I’ll make traveling arrangements comfortable for you. I wish you good day Captain Morgan, and best of luck with your little war.”

  Jean had heard them call Captain Morgan’s name loudly and had heard them fetch him from below. She rushed to place her ear to the door hoping to hear the ensuing conversation but they must have moved away for she heard nothing for a long time. When she finally heard something, it was Captain Gomez giving urgent orders almost as if something had gone wrong. It took another long spell before Pedro came and told her what had gone on: the two captains had had a business meeting.

  Pedro told Jean she was to be given a bath and made ready to travel at once. She was joining Captain Gomez on a trip to be sold to a Sheikh miles away in the desert. There was some good news lodged in there somewhere: the meeting held a lot of potential for her future and as they left to meet the Sheikh, Steve-e-Joe and the men would be coming right behind them.

  Jean and Pedro rode on one horse, behind Captain Gomez and four of his men who led the way. It took them two days on horseback to reach the village, and in that time together, neither Captain Gomez nor any of his men spoke to her or looked at her. Pedro whispered to her that it was because she might be the Sheikh’s next wife, and the Sheikh was known to kill men who looked at his wives. Eventually, even Pedro, began to act strangely towards Jean. He was nervous around her for he had taken the liberty of bathing her before their trip by horse and he remembered vividly all the times he had touched her throughout their voyage. When they eventually reached the Sheikh’s village, Pedro kept well back.

  Jean was handed over to the women of the harem to bathe and dress her in silk – the way the Sheikh liked his women. Jean was glad that Pedro went over to stay with Captain Gomez and his men. She felt no animosity whatsoever towards him and wouldn’t want him to be killed by the Sheikh.

  That evening, Jean was taken to the Sheikh’s tent. It was nothing like she had ever seen before; there were silk drapes hanging everywhere, and the huge bed was covered in huge cushions. She tried to summarize it all in her head: her voyage had been interrupted by a band of pirates and she had been sold to an old, fat man that already had ten wives.

  What a trip! She thought. It didn’t even seem like it would get better. She had been told it would be another day before the caravan with Steve-e-Joe and the men arrived at the village, and when it did, she was forbidden to look at any of the men. If the Sheikh found out that Steve-e-Joe and Jean had been married – technically, they were still married – he would promptly cut off Steve-e-Joe’s head off without so much as a second thought. The Sheikh was the law around here and he was not to be defied.

  So Jean let the fat Sheikh undress her and feel her, and she smiled at him as if she admired him for she knew she had to play along with him. She knew she was stuck with him forever unless Captain Morgan and his men could manage to rescue the Sheikh’s son. Until then, she had to be the Sheikh’s wife, or sex slave, more accurately

  The Sheikh clumsily lay her down on the huge bed and started to explore her pale beauty. He kissed her in many random places and Jean responded with different, rehearsed moans. He smiled victoriously as he touched different parts of her lily-white body and he nodded to show Jean he liked her. When he stripped himself naked, Jean noticed he didn’t have a big cock and she consoled herself with the thought that Captain Morgan just might pull off the impossible and she wouldn’t be with him for long. A cynical part of her reasoned that the Sheikh might not be pleased with her in the end and that he could sell her before the archers completed their mission. She dismissed the awful thought and looked at her new lover.

  He was awfully hairy and sweaty but Jean put on a brave face and when he did finally shag her, she cried out with the fake cries of passion that she had learned with Pedro. There was no language barrier here, those cries meant the same in all languages and the Sheikh loved the noises she made. It seemed a lifetime away since Jean had been shagged by Steve-e-Joe, Sergeant Jones and the handsome Captain Morgan, and Jean used those memories when the Sheikh made love to her, and those cries were uttered passionately for them.

  Neither Jean nor any of the other women were allowed to look at the Welsh archers, and the next day they were gone on their mission, as were Pedro and Captain Gomez – back to their ship. Jean knew it would be a long wait and she was disturbed to find that her biggest problem, as she sat in the palatial residence, was the Sheikh’s small cock. But why did she have to pretend? Small cocks were not for her and she prayed something would happen soon.

  The Sheikh made love to her for two nights, and when she was taken to his tent again on the third night, she was expecting more of the same. He spoke to her as they both undressed and Jean smiled awkwardly. Although Jean couldn’t understand a word he was saying, she was able to do what he wanted, mostly by paying attention to his hand signs and gestures.

  Jean smiled at him when he sat up in bed and clapped his hands twice, thinking it some silly custom. She didn’t know what it really meant until she saw two huge, dark skinned men quietly come into the tent. Jean sat up to look at them and she noticed that none of the men looked at her, they just stared straight ahead at the back of the tent. The Sheikh got up and motioned for Jean to get up too. She did and he took her to the first man and pointed at his nappy-like undergarment which was the only thing he was wearing.

  Jean knew he wanted her to take it off so she did; he had a lovely, long cock hanging limp and unaroused.
The Sheikh pointed to the other one and he took off his undergarment too. Another long cock. These must be the cocks she was destined for, something said to Jean. These were the cocks she was brought to shag, not the Sheikh’s little one.

  Somehow the Sheikh made her understand that the two tall muscular men were his first wife’s slaves, and he wanted her to have the same pleasure with them that his wife did when they made love to her. He clapped his hands and they carried her to the bed, slowly gaining hard erections in the process. Following the Sheikh’s orders, they slowly took turns to make love to her. Jean enjoyed them, for their cocks were as big as Uncle Johnny’s but younger and better looking. Jean knew the Sheikh was having as much pleasure as she was just by watching her and telling the slaves what he wanted them to do to her. Jean was faking it in the beginning – due to a recently-learned habit – but in no time, those long, powerful strokes got to her. She began to moan and as she grabbed the other man’s cock, she said, “Oh Joe.”

  The Sheikh thought she was saying that his cock was big, and he held his hands out like a fisherman describing how big his catch was. He nodded in agreement with Jean - the cocks were truly huge – and said with a smile. “Oh yes, oh Joe, big.”

  Jean pointed at the other big cock and put two fingers up to the Sheikh. “Two oh Joes.” The Sheikh laughed, and happily said some words to himself in Arabic.

  For most nights over the next six weeks, Jean reported at the Sheikh’s tent and the two slaves joined them in a night of love making. Jean had lost track of time and one day, while she was sprawled lazily on her bed and trying to stop herself from crying, the village erupted in cries of joy. It didn’t take her long to find out that the men had returned with the Sheikh’s son alive. The shouts of joy from the men of the village and wailing cries from the women crying filled the air.

  The women sang, “The prince is back! Praise be to Allah”, and Jean sat stiffly with mixed emotions. Nobody noticed her as a single tear dropped from her eye.

  Jean woke up quietly and stretched her legs under the sheets. She yawned, stretched her arms towards the head of the bed and opened her eyes lazily expecting to see a lantern lit in the middle of her tent. She found she was staring at the ceiling of her the apartment she shared with Steve; It was almost daylight and Steve was snoring as usual. She lifted her head, looked around her bedroom to be sure and then lay back down. The dream had been so real, she didn’t know if she should get up and get ready for work, or go see if breakfast was ready so she could eat with the rest of the women in the harem.

  She touched her face and it was wet with tears. This last dream had been insane and if she had to describe it, she’d say that Joe had put her though a nightmare and not a sexual adventure. She realized she had cried through most of her dream and the sexual parts seemed deliberately tuned to make her feel bad. So many small cocks!

  But he did have two marvelous slaves fuck the hell out of me and I guess that made up for all he put me through, Jean thought. She honestly wondered if Steve-e-Joe, Captain Morgan and the rest of the men were still alive. She hoped so. A smile came over Jean’s face, as she realized she still hadn’t fucked Evan Evans, and she was sure the adventure wouldn’t end until that happened.

  Friday, October 11

  0700hrs

  On that morning, Joe was pretty punctual. He contacted Alice to tell her that there wasn’t much to report back to her about Idir’s dreams. Burrows later called to tell Alice that Homeland had found Fareed Azim in an apartment above a flower shop, and they had him under surveillance 24/7. It was all thanks to Joe’s good work. Frank Brubaker – who now had all the agencies working with him – assigned the NSA to concentrate on that apartment with as many listening devices as possible trained on Fareed Azim. Brubaker wanted every little, insignificant sound recorded to the point that if Fareed broke wind, they’d hear it loud and clear.

  Fareed didn’t go for prayers at any mosque while he was in the apartment. He prayed in his room and the agencies watched him at every moment. They were hoping that the apartment would be the terrorist cell’s HQ or at least some hub of activities in the days to come.

  So Frank Brubaker played the waiting game, hoping Azim would make a call and give away the location of Yasmina, Jamil and the two bombers. They still had agents out on the streets looking for Yasmina and Jamil but with no luck yet, Fareed Azim seemed to be their best shot at finding the two bombers.

  After being briefed, Alice was told to sit tight and Burrows would keep her updated. Joe popped into her mind about every hour to see what was going on hoping the FBI would have arrested Azim or somehow gotten the location of the two bombers. By 4:30 in the afternoon, when Burrows phoned Alice, no such location had been found.

  “Alice, we found a friend of Yasmina and Jamil, and we’d like you and Joe to find out what he knows.”

  “Oh yeah sure, I’m only watching TV and I’m bored stiff.” Alice was glad to get out of the hotel. “Are you going to pick me up?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.” Burrows added “And don’t forget your magic badge.”

  In about thirty minutes, Alice was getting into the car. She was wondering why Campbell wasn’t so punctual today when she realized he wasn’t driving. He wasn’t even in the car.

  “Where’s Agent Campbell?” she asked.

  “He’s got plenty to do,” Burrows replied, stifling a tired yawn, “and we don’t want to frighten this friend too much so in this case, the fewer the merrier.”

  Alice relaxed in the passenger’s side and thought about the job ahead. She was pleased that Joe had popped into her mind about 10 minutes earlier and had said he’d come along for the ride.

  “So what’s the plan?” Alice asked. She couldn’t hide her excitement.

  “The name of the friend is Bashir; he works in his parent’s shop. So we’ll go in, I’ll show him my badge and introduce you. You’ll hopefully be able to shake his hand using your badge. I’ll ask if he knows the whereabouts of Yasmina. He’ll more than likely say no and ask us why, whether she had done anything. I’ll tell him there was a car accident and we had her on tape driving a van past the accident just as it happened so she might have been a witness. With a bit of luck, as a good friend, he’ll phone one of them – either Yasmina or Jamil. Or, if he’s part of the cell, he might phone Azim and he’ll pass on that the police are looking for Yasmina.”

  “Don’t you think he’ll suspect something is funny, an FBI Special Agent asking about a road accident?”

  “He might, so let’s hope it does spook him into trying to warn Yasmina and Jamil that we’re on to them.” Burrows nodded. “That’s only part of the plan anyway, the main thing is for Joe to get in his dreams and find out if he knows anything.”

  They followed the plan to the letter when they visited Bashir and just like Burrows had anticipated, Bashir said he didn’t know where they were, or when they’d be back. Alice managed to shake hands with him and Joe got into his mind easily. The only problem was that Bashir never phoned or texted anybody as they hoped he would. So in the end, it was up to Joe.

  Joe waited until just after midnight before he got into Bashir’s dreams. Joe found out that Bashir was a Muslim believer, but didn’t want to be mixed up in any protest or anything else; he just wanted to be left alone to live a quiet life. Joe had him under his spell and asked him what he knew of the two Algerian men that Yasmina went to meet. Bashir hadn’t heard about any Algerians but he had overheard Jamil talking on the phone to someone about getting some Muslim brothers to go to the protest outside the White House on Columbus Day, and for others to protest at the wreath-laying ceremony at the Columbus Memorial Statue at Union Station, at the same time.

  Joe found out that Bashir stayed away from protests but Jamil didn’t. He also found out from Bashir that Jamil was a quiet man if you met him on the street, but online he incited Jihadist violence against Jews and Americans. He preached that Muslims should write their legacy i
n blood in the name of Allah to guarantee themselves a special place in the afterlife.

  Joe didn’t get much more out of him, but he thought the FBI would be interested in hearing about the two protests that were about to take place. They could be the places where the cell planned to use the two brothers.

  Abel got into Alice’s dream and woke her up to tell her what he found had out. Alice hurriedly called Campbell with the news. Campbell had had only an hour’s worth of sleep but he got up and headed to headquarters straight away to work on the new information with the experts.

  There was still some time on his hands so Abel thought he’d go visit his beauty queen. He knew Jean would be disappointed if he missed even one night and so he was trying to not disappoint her. Abel remembered that the last time he had entered Jean’s mind, he had looked through her eyes and seen that she had a few other adventure books including Robin Hood and Ivanhoe. He hoped they would inspire him for future adventures with Jean.

  He remembered trying to take Alice on a Robin Hood adventure before they had become partners. Alice was stubborn and resolute, and she fought against Abel’s wishes such that he had been unable to make the adventure happen. He also remembered taking one of his other “clients” on an adventure of the Three Musketeers. That had worked perfectly. He reckoned at some point in the future, it would be a good idea to take Jean to France to meet the Cardinal of France and the Musketeers. He could also introduce her to the Queen of France and her lover, an English Duke.

  All that would have to wait though, for Jean was still a sex slave and a long way from home.

  *

  Jean was getting frustrated. She wasn’t having much success communicating with the women of the harem because they were all excited that the Sheikh had gotten his son back. Jean was trying to find out if the archers were still alive, but she couldn’t get them to understand her. She suspected that a few of the women understood her, at least to some extent, but didn’t care enough to give her any reply. One of the older women, with a little girl by her side, hurried over to Jean and began to make comments while pointing at Jean’s bust. Jean looked down to find her nipples poking at her silk top, clearly exposed. The little girl picked a coat from a nearby basket and made Jean put it on. Next, the girl took a veil from the basket and wrapped it round Jean’s head so that it hid most of her face. When she had gotten it round Jean’s face, she pinned it neatly with an ornamental brooch.