by John Ringo
As he neared the back door he could hear the rest of the team moving out to either side and noticed a bit of movement by the back window. Suddenly the back door opened up and a man was revealed holding a gun to the head of a girl. Mike noticed in passing that it was Katrina. Figured. She looked more pissed than scared but she was sitting still. There was a large red mark on her face and her blouse was torn, revealing an amazingly good chest for a fourteen year old girl. Mike figured somebody was just going to have pay for that.
“If you or your men move closer I’ll kill her,” the man said in heavily accented Georgian.
“Go ahead,” Mike said, glancing past him into the van. There were seats in it and he couldn’t figure out how many girls were in it, but it was close to full. “I’ve been in this situation before. One guy walked away alive. He was the one that let the bitch go. I don’t really care if you kill her, pussy in the mountains is in overabundance. But if you do you won’t be walking away.” The M-4 was sighted for 150 meters, so at this range, due to parallax, the round would tend to track up. Mike dropped the sight to just below the guy’s chin and worried about the shot. The problem with the M-4 was that the 5.56 round was bound to pass through the target. If there was a girl on the other side of him, and Mike was pretty sure there was, she was liable to take a round in the back. “Hey! Girls in the van! On the floor if you please!”
“Shut up!” the man shouted. “I will kill her, I swear!”
“You’re clearly not listening carefully,” Mike said, dropping to a sitting position and leaning over a bit so he was now targeted to go through the guy’s head and upward. “You can let her go and walk or…”
The top of the man’s head lifted up and sprayed blood and brains into the interior of the van accompanied by screams from the girls on the interior.
As soon as the man’s hands went flaccid, Katrina rolled out of the van and onto the ground, lying flat. Mike darted forward to cover her as the rest of the team went for the other doors. There were more screams and a crunching sound as women started to pour out of the side door.
“Sorry about that, boss,” Russell said as Mike walked around the driver’s side of the van. Russell was holding the driver by the wrist and the guy was sitting on the ground, trying very hard not to move; his hand was at a forty-five-degree sideways angle. “I guess I pressed a little too hard when I jerked him out.”
“Works for me,” Mike said, walking over to the man on the ground. “Hurt?”
“Yes,” the man whispered, his face white.
“Good,” Mike said. “Your van’s all shot up, but we’ll get you a splint and a ride back to Chechnya. Then you tell your buddies that the valley of the Keldara is off limits, clear? You try to take our food, you try to take our women, you try to fight us, you’re going to end up very dead. Is that clear?”
“Who are you?” the man asked, looking around. “You’re Americans.”
“I am the Kildar,” Mike said. “These are some of my friends that I asked over to help out with the security situation. American and British Spetznaz. They’re going to be working on the security in the area. And training the Keldara to do the same. So unless you want to get the shit kicked out of you, stay far, far away.”
“Patch him up,” Mike said, looking at Russell and switching to English. “Tell doc to just splint it. I’ll get Vadim to find a ride for him back to the border.”
“Will do, boss,” Russell said.
“Boss?” Thompson said, walking around the side of the van. “We’ve got the girls unloaded, what do we do with them?
“What the fuck do we do with them?” Mike asked, looking at the nine girls lined up by the roadside. They’d mostly stopped crying and now looked at the men with guns in fear. They also were covered blood and in some cases vomit.
“Clean ’em up and fuck ’em?” Thompson suggested. The former Sfer shrugged at Mike’s expression. “Just a thought. I mean, they were on their way to being whores anyway, right?”
Mike had to admit that under the mess some of the girls were damned good looking. Not as good looking as Keldara, but still damned good looking. On the other hand, some of them were… pretty young.
“We’ll take ’em up to the caravanserai for now,” Mike said. “I’ll call Vadim and get his read on the situation. They all came from farms, maybe they can go back.”
* * *
“They were all ‘sent to town,’ ” Vadim said, after entering Mike’s office. The girls had been turned over to Mother Savina with orders to get them some clean clothes and a bath. “Most of them are from farms down the road to the south. Various places between here and the Gorge.”
“So can we send them back?” Mike asked.
“Assuming we can find any of the farms, probably not,” Vadim said, shrugging. “Generally, none of these girls have been more than a kilometer from their homes and don’t really know where they are. I’ll send one of my men out to see if they can figure it out. But even if we can find the farms, girls get sent to town for a reason. Generally, they’re of no more use. And if you send them back, they’re just going to be sold again.”
“So what the hell do I do with them?” Mike asked, angrily.
“I dunno,” Vadim said, shrugging. “Clean them up and fuck them?”
* * *
After Vadim was gone, Mike sat at his desk and rubbed his forehead in thought. For good or ill, he’d apparently inherited a harem. The honorable thing to do was to figure out some way to send them off to a school, preferably female only, until they were old enough to find jobs. But half the time even women with training in countries like this ended up as “bar girls,” whores in other words. There just weren’t enough jobs for all the men and women got hired last. Even when women could find decent jobs, it was usually at the cost of putting out to the boss. He thought about the “secretary” or whatever who served tea at his meeting with the president. It was unlikely that she only typed for her pay.
Hell, it was unlikely that he could find a school that would take them. None of the girls were going to speak English so sending them to somewhere in Europe would be out of the question and one in Georgia would probably reject them. Boarding schools in countries like Georgia were for the well-to-do. Period. Country peasants need not apply. There might be a school run by nuns or something that would take them in. Unlikely, but possible.
The easiest thing would be to simply keep them here as a harem. He considered that for a moment. The biggest problem the girls would face, even if they were “of age,” say eighteen or so, would be education. He could get a tutor. Get them educated to high school level and they could get into a university. If they needed money for that, well, he had money.
He had to admit that the thought had a certain something. Poor, almost assuredly virginal, waifs. What to do? Clean ’em up and fuck ’em seemed to be the general consensus. It was what they knew was coming, anyway. Okay, and get ’em a tutor and take care of ’em until they were old enough to find a real life.
Conscience salved and decision made, Mike got up to go explain the facts of life to the girls.
* * *
“Good evening, ladies,” Mike said, looking the group over. He was holding the meeting in the atrium of the harem quarters, sitting on the still nonfunctional fountain. The girls had been cleaned up and clothing found for them. There wasn’t enough actual clothing available in their size so they were in whatever was available. In a couple of cases that meant robes and one of the ones in robes had a magnificent set of hooters that were showing a good bit of cleavage. He tore his eyes away from it and looked around at the other girls. Most of them were mid-teen but ranged from about seventeen down to one he was afraid might be twelve or so. She was a sweet looking thing with black hair and an elfin face. And blue eyes that were watching him nervously.
“You all know why you were sent to town,” Mike said, firmly looking away from the girl’s eyes and the various breasts that strained clothes. “The good news is that you’re not go
ing to be turned into whores. The bad news is that there’s not much else to do with you.”
“Could we stay here?” one of the girls asked, nervously.
“That’s the way it’s trending,” Mike admitted. “But, and there’s always a but, you can guess under what conditions. The term is concubine. You’ll be housed, fed, tutored and given a small salary. You’ll clean house and provide other comforts. To be precise that means warm my bed and sometimes the beds of visitors I designate. Anyone who can’t handle those conditions I’ll have taken to Tbilisi and dropped off with some money and clothes. You can make your way from there. But you know damned well how you’ll be making your way.”
“That is fine,” the little girl with the blue eyes said. “We heard that the Kildar had returned even where I lived. I do not mind being a woman of the Kildar.” She actually seemed eagerm which blew Mike’s mind.
“I think you’re nuts,” Mike said, shaking his head. “And you’ll be waiting for a bit; in my culture you’re way too young so for the time being you’ll just be helping around the house, little lady. Later we’ll discuss the rest. As for the rest, when you’re old enough to make it in the world you can go forth with an education under your belt and enough money to get a start. That I can do.”
“Where are we going to stay?” the girl with the hooters asked, pulling her robe closer.
“Here,” Mike said, waving around. “It’s the old harem quarters. Convenient, no? We need to get you clothes. A tutor. An understanding tutor. Sheets for the beds…” He stopped and shook his head, sighing.
“Kildar,” one of the girls said, standing up and coming over to sit by him. “We will speak to Mother Savina and tell her that we will be staying. And the rest that you said. There should be others to take care of that.”
“What’s your name, girl?” Mike asked. She was pretty but not beautiful, with long brown hair and brown eyes. She’d borrowed a dress from one of the hookers, Flopsy’s if he recalled it correctly, and it fit her like a glove. Since she wasn’t wearing a bra, she bulged out pleasantly. She also apparently had a longer torso since the dress, which was designed to fall to mid thigh, was hiked up to where it just barely covered her assets.
“I am Klavdiya,” the girl said. She was on the upper end of the age range, probably about seventeen.
“You’re hereby appointed straw boss,” Mike said, sighing and trying not to stare down the dress. “Until I can get a harem manager. Tell Mother Savina that we’ll need more house outfits.”
“There are many rooms,” the one with the hooters said. “Which one do we use?”
“There are four in use now,” Mike said, pointing down the corridor. “Other than those, I don’t care. Choose.”
“We don’t have to share?” Klavdiya asked, surprised. “Bless you, Kildar, I have never had a room of my own!”
“This is a sick culture,” Mike muttered in English.
“What is that?” Klavdiya asked.
“Nothing,” Mike said. “Yes, you can each have your own room, your own bed. And you’ll be given a stipend to fix it up. Money to buy clothes of your own. You are the women of the Kildar. You cannot go out in public in robes,” he said, gesturing at hooters. “What’s your name girl?”
“Tinata,” the girl answered, shyly. She was probably about sixteen, at a guess. On the spot he made the decision that that was the cut-off age. The twelve-year-old and the one that he was pretty sure was fourteen or so were off-limits until older. Sixteen he figured he could live with.
“Mind if I just call you Tina?” Mike asked. “There is an outfit that I got made for the other girls who are helping out. You’ll each get a couple of those and you’ll be given money that you can use to order more clothes. The deal is you get six hundred euros to order stuff for your room, all there is in them now is a bed and a night stand, and five hundred for clothes. That’s for the first month, it goes down after that but it’s still fair. I’ll add some money every month for play money, that will be cash. When you leave, you can take any clothes that fit, jewelry, what have you. The furnishings stay.”
Most of the girls were looking at him as if he had two heads, but one had clasped her hands over her mouth and bowed her head. She appeared to be crying.
“What did I say wrong?” Mike asked, looking at the crying girl and then Klavdiya.
“Most of us were… sold for less money than that,” Klavdiya said, looking at him in disbelief. “You are going to give us this?”
“You keep the clothes and jewelry and whatever,” Mike said. “The furnishings stay. And you keep the money, yeah. What’s the problem? It’s a good deal.”
“It’s wonderful,” Klavdiya said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve never had money in my hand, before.”
“There’s the whole sex thing, too,” Mike pointed out, trying to avoid a pair of extremely firm breasts pressed into his arm.
“You seem gentle,” Klavdiya said, drawing back since he was clearly uncomfortable. “And we were to be whores. None of us were to have a husband. Now we are to be women of the Kildar! And paid too! This is too wonderful to describe!”
“I did mention the sex thing, right?” Mike asked, confused. Most of the girls were looking at him as if he was God. “Hey,” he added, to the girl who still had her head down, “could you quit crying? It’s a real turn-on. By the way,” he said, turning back to Klavdiya, “I’m not the nicest guy in the world. I can be pretty rough.”
“But you will not beat us to make us do things,” Klavdiya said. “Will you?”
“If I have to,” Mike said. “For that matter, I enjoy it. But I won’t do it at random. And I generally either need a damned good reason or permission. Some girls enjoy playing with pain. However, yeah, if you get out of line I’ll beat the heck out of you. Not as my first reaction, but don’t push it, okay?”
“I won’t,” Klavdiya said, swallowing.
“And I won’t be rough the first time,” Mike said. “It ruins the young lady’s approach. Speaking of the first time,” Mike continued, looking around and shaking his head, “the one requirement I’m going to make here is that I’m first. I figure I’m paying for it, I might as well get first crack. But slowly, come up with a list. Actually, just get the girls’ names and I’ll figure it out. Can you write?”
“No, Kildar,” Klavdiya admitted.
“Learning’s going to be a bitch,” Mike said, sighing. “I’ll get one of the female trainers in here to set up the logistics. After I have a list I’ll figure out who goes first.”
“I volunteer,” Klavdiya said, her jaw working nervously.
“Okay,” Mike said, shrugging. “You seem pretty balanced and hopefully the rest will be less worried if you give a good report. Later, though, I’ve got things to do.”
“Very well, Kildar,” the girl said, slightly crestfallen. She’d obviously screwed up her courage to volunteer.
“And tell Mother Savina to tell Uncle Latif that I want this fountain working,” Mike said, standing up. “Sheets on the beds, get clothes, get a list of the girls and fix the fountain. The rest can wait.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I heard we had some excitement today,” Adams said, coming into Mike’s office after a knock.
“This is getting out of control,” Mike said. “I just picked up seven more waifs. The only thing to do with them is kick them out or make them concubines. I thought about trying to just keep my hands off them but that would make things weirder in the long term.”
“You’re due, buddy,” Adams said. “Something about fifty college coeds if I recall.”
“Forty-nine,” Mike said, sadly. “Forty-nine.”
“Yeah, well we got forty-nine out,” Adams said.
“Besides, I screwed twenty of the forty nine,” Mike admitted.
“Twenty?” Adams shouted. “Damnit, I only got six!”
“Six?” Mike snapped back. “When the hell did you get six?”
“Well, there was the hotel in DC,” Adams said, ticking off on his fingers. “Two there, separate times, mind you. Then there was the party at the Kappa Alpha house, that was three…”
“Yeah,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I heard about that one.”
“Those Kappa Alphas can party,” Adams admitted. “Then there was the visit I made later. That was the last one, a Chi O, but then there were two more of her sorority sisters over the weekend…”
“Christ,” Mike said, shaking his head. “You were bent on taking over UGA weren’t you?”
“Dude, it was only a plane hop away,” Adams pointed out. “And all I had to do was get one of the girls to introduce me as a SEAL and it was pussy city. And you got twenty. Don’t give me any shit.”
“Well, it took most of a month,” Mike admitted, grinning. “But I think I potted all the girls that were recovered enough. It was fun. Good for them, good for me. But that doesn’t cover the present problem. I wasn’t planning on having a harem.”
“Wah,” Adams said. “Not a problem most guys want to listen to somebody complain about.”
“Well, if a certain team name ever gets tagged to me the area around me is going to get really exciting,” Mike pointed out. “Having a bunch of potential hostages around is not my idea of a good plan.”
“You’ve got the Keldara around you,” Adams pointed out. “Both as defenders and as potential hostages. A few more bunnies running around won’t matter.”
“I suppose,” Mike said. “But doesn’t it bother you a bit?”
“Nah,” Adams replied. “You always over analyzed. Go get it stuck in and forget the rest. It won’t matter in a hundred years anyway. But you need to get you a harem manager, you know that.”
“I can just see that advertisement,” Mike pointed out. “Wanted, harem manager for group of teenaged concubines. Must be female. Send photo and resume.”
“Mike, I’ve had teenaged daughters,” Adams said. “Well, stepdaughters. You don’t want to put up with them most of the time. They should be raised in a barrel. Oh, the screaming fits and the sulks and the pouts and the whines. Get a professional.”
