The Stripping of Peregrino

[Upper America]

To: Imperator Aemilius Hosidius Geta
From: President Davis Johnson
Subject: Peregrino
Encryption: Classified
We will immediately load up the ship. It's location is hidden from the general populace to prevent word of it getting out to New Edom. It should take about a week to get to it's destination. If the situation gets worse, we may consider sending in military support, but for now, we will only send in weaponry.

Central Park, New York City, New York
Two mounted police officers patrolled the area around Central Park. Central Park was a tourist hotspot, and Manhattan's most popular park. The officers were on a simple patrol mission, to keep the area safe.

Within the officer's line of sight, a group of men and women had gathered. They didn't look like they were on tour.

"You ready for this? You are well aware we'll get in deep trouble for this, right?" One of the protestors, a busty blonde woman, says.

"Oh yeah, but it's for a good cause." The man she was speaking to, a muscular brown haired man, responds.

"Alright, everyone, let's start this!" The leader says. They all instantly strip off their shirts.

The officers noticed, but thought that it was just a protest for topless equality, which had become a hot topic once it was discovered that both men and women could go topless in New York City. Nevertheless, they paid close attention to make sure that was all that was going off.

To their surprise, the protestors took off their pants, then their undergarments, picked up picket signs, some of which read "Peregrino is New Edom's!" Or "Nudity is not oppressive". The officers instantly knew what was going on. The situation in Peregrino had caught the attention of various news networks, and a popular country-wide radio channel recently held a heated debate on whether New Edom owned Peregrino and if the compulsory nudity laws to be enforced on the island were oppressive or not. They instantly sprung into action.

"You can't do that here! This is a family-friendly park!" The first officer, Michael Jenson says.

"We have the right to protest here! Nudity is not harmful!" The leader says. The leader was an attractive ginger-haired woman, and to the officers' surprise, was actually famous supermodel Jamie DeSanta.

"Ma'am put your clothes back on, or we will arrest you and your group!" The second officer, Jack Alboro, yells back.

"This is our right! We do not need any permits to do this! A bare breast has never hurt anyone, and it will never hurt anyone!" DeSanta yells back.

That was just what the officers were waiting to hear. No permit.
"Dispatch, we have a potential riot breaking out near 59th Street West. About 50 people. Unauthorized protests, protesters stripped themselves nude at the southern end of Central Park, requesting back up." Alboro informs the NYPD police dispatch.

Meanwhile, Jenson tries to subdue the crowd, who are attracting a large amount of attention and stopping traffic. They ignore Jenson and try to cross the road.

"We'll see your backup at Times Square!" DeSanta yells. "Peregrino belongs to New Edom!"

Within seconds, police sirens are heard, and multiple NYPD cruisers stop at the intersection. The officers step out with handcuffs and approach the crowd. One officer is spotted with his hands near his gun, and DeSanta notices.

"Don't you dare shoot us!" She yells, making the whole intersection aware. A taxi driver gets out of his car and approaches the officer.

"Please, man, you don't have to do this! Don't shoot them!" He says.

"I'm not gonna shoot the bastards!" The officer yells back. "I'm just doing this so they don't make any funny movements. A nude body ain't gonna protect you."

DeSanta is subdued by an officer. The officer is promptly hit on the head by a female protester, and two others rush into the crowd. They're too late, and soon the whole crowd is beating the officer.

The officer who had his hand on his gun promptly takes it out and shoots at the pavement, startling the taxi driver and scaring multiple people out of their cars. Tensions bubble over, and soon the entire crowd is rushing towards the man who shot the gun. He retreats into his vehicle as backup arrives and multiple rioters are tazed.

"Violence is not the answers, my good people!" DeSanta yells at the crowd. "Please, stop!"

The entire intersection becomes a boxing ring, as various people step out of their cars, some stripping nude to support the protestors, and begin to either pull the naked rioters away, or to assist them.

Meanwhile on the other side of the East River, a group of people who support Peregrino prepare for their march across the Brooklyn Bridge.

[Jedoria]

Fort Gavrail,
Jedoria

"Move it, move it, get those legs up you sorry bastards!"

All around the military installation known to the public as Fort Gavrail (to the troops stationed there it was called Prison Prime), the 15th Independent Mechanized Infantry Brigade, or the Heavy Hussars, as their name used to be, prepared for their next deployment. For a military that's main action consisted of foreign peacekeeping, the deployment to Peregrino was nothing new, but is nevertheless was the first time many of the soldiers of the 15th would be seeing any kind of action. There was a permeating feeling of excitement through the various different units stationed there. For the 15th, it was a time to grab the glory for Jedoria, not to mention bragging rights when they returned. The Fort was also occupied by the 11th Armored Division, who's troops were watching from the sidelines as the Brigade loaded ammunition, fuel, rations and other supplies into containers to be placed on transports and shipped off to the Edomite Island known as Peregrino. Or the Free Island Nation of Peregrino, depending on who you asked.

"Why should the Edomites be there? It's not their freakin' island!"

"Yes, it is. The Romans gave it to them, remember?"

"Why didn't the people of Peregrino have a choice? Don't they have a voice in all of this?"

"What are you, a Norvenian?"

Talks like this had broken out throughout the whole Brigade as various personnel voiced their opinions on the situation. Whoever was heard talking by a NCO or officer was given a stern chew out about ignoring the big picture and focusing on the job at hand. It wasn't easy, given how they hadn't had much to do over the past few moths. Keeping up on newsworthy events sometimes seemed like the only thing to do around the base. Nevertheless, they did their duty, preparing the unit for their upcoming mission.

The whole Brigade wasn't going at once, that would be too clumsy. No, they would be split up and ship out in stages. First, the 98th Mechanized Infantry Battalion and the 88th Engineer Company would board their transports and set up positions for the CPO detachments set to arrive in Peregrino within a few days. Then the 56th Mech. Infantry Battalion, along with the 12th Inf. Bat, and the 31st Transport Bat. would come after a week, and the the rest would arrive based on the situation. Whether they would take ships or Aircraft depended heavily on the situation currently ongoing in Peregrino.

"What's the status on the 98th?" Brigadier General Adrian Negoiţescu, the overall Commander of the 15th, paced around his office, hands behind his back in a manner not unlike parade rest. His supporting staff of the HQ company were moving in a blur around him, trying to get things ready for the mission. With a chiseled jaw and slightly graying hair, steel blues and a clean shaven face, it was no surprise the Brigadier General had been happily married for 31 years. One of his assistants, a bright eyed blonde Major, stopped what he was doing and responded. "Most of the IFVs have been loaded and are ready, at least two of Leopards need some maintenance done. We've got mechanics working on them now, should be ready in three hours."

"We'll be on the edge of our time table." Negoiţescu said, rubbing his jaw with a calloused hand, "But we should be good. Have them pull an additional crew if they need to." With that, the Brig. General sat down at his chair and went over the Tables once more. they had a lot of equipment to move; and he himself had a lot of work to do.

[New Edom]

Quality Bay, New Edom

Lavinia went into the bedroom she used at Quality Bay went to the wardrobe by the chair and slowly removed all her clothes.

William. She honestly didn’t know if William loved her, or if she loved him. What did love feel like? She didn’t know. It was not like the love she had for her father, which made her heart truly ache with a yearning to make him happy, to in some ways be like him; it wasn’t like the love for her family generally which was if she was honest a sort of general comfort and assurance. She did want him to be happy, for him to enjoy himself, but was it love?

Oh no, it was not at all like her passion for Enosh, her busking lover who had charmed her so much with his guitar playing, his way of drinking and becoming ever more delightful, his dancing, his love making, his sweetness.

No, no no, not down that path again. Not that path of misery and destruction. Never again.

She walked naked to the bathroom and had a thorough shower, to wash Lalery off her. That man. Why was she so drawn to such a wicked, awful man? He brought out the worst (best?) in her.

”Let’s give you a bit of training. No matter what, William will be grateful for this…”

Part of it was, to be honest, just the sheer thrill of doing something bad, and doing something in response to a man as powerful as Count Lalery desperately wanting her in spite of his braggadocio, the look of fascination as he gently but with clear tension was permitted to unbutton, unhook and reveal what he loved to talk about and stare at, watch his face transfused with groaning as the act, which both disgusted, fascinated and aroused her all at once was done, her kneeling while he worked his hips to panting fruition…it was one of the most revolting and yet thrilling moments of her life…

In the steaming bathroom, she wiped her hand across and looked at herself in the mirror, as she prepared to touch up her makeup just a little, make her hair look artlessly disheveled as though she had had the most glamorous of long days.

She may have been a few pounds overweight but it would have been just a few, perhaps…she needed to do more dancing, more tennis, less sitting around. So many parties, and like many Baran women of high rank she was at risk of getting huge hips and bottom, bosom like a big pillowy shelf if she didn’t watch herself. Her mother was a good example to her. Trigger happy with running to the spa and personal trainers.. Her long dark hair flowed over her creamy lightly tanned olive skinned shoulders and looking over her shoulder… a very nice rounded behind with beautiful curvy cheeks that were delicately pale as befit an aristocratic lady. She had inherited from her mother a really big bosom, almost too big to be ladylike, but foreign men seemed to fall over themselves. William of course..it was all about the derriere for him. But the softly rounded tummy was alright, it would do. Prince Michael would enjoy it. She’d make sure of that. A sense of her power swelled within her.

”Remember the Doors? No? Never listen to retro rock eh? ‘The side walk crouches at her feet, like a dog that begs for something sweet…Do you hope to make her see, you fool? Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?’ That’s you. It’s power. Use it.”

Yes.

Lavinia resolutely finished her face, and slipped first into a light purple and green bikini that was like flowers decorating her barely clothed body, skin tight as water on her body, just four little triangles to barely hold it in, and then a light pink kimono, high heeled sandals that bared her shell pink painted toenails.

Prince Michael

He was shown to a lozenge shaped pool which had white deck chairs with sun umbrellas around it, a tall wall of green bricks around it and potted fig trees and ferns here and there, and a shaded area where there was a small dry bar that had a cooler attached; drinks and refreshments were regularly renewed there.

There was a rack of towels, another with some pool toys of various kinds, and an aromatic breeze blew the smell of lemon trees over the wall. The servant who showed him there, a young man of slim build wearing only sandals, his body oiled and nearly hairless, bowed and said, “If there is anything else you might need Highness…you have but to pick up that phone on the table there…and someone will come running.” As if with difficulty he took his eyes off Prince Michael and left.

Shortly after whatever Prince Michael said or did, Lavinia arrived and looked a bit surprised. “Oh…Prince Michael…I’m surprised you were shown to this pool, it doesn’t really have that nice of a view, it mostly just is a place to relax, which is why I sometimes come here, but you don’t have to sit here and be bored…I will call a servant at once to show you to the more commonly used pool, which commands an excellent view of the gardens, is closer to the tennis court and walking paths, and is much more suitable!” she walked towards the phone, the delicate kimono swishing around her supple upper thighs, a determined look on her face.

[Nalaya]

The Protector's Office
Sevan, Nalaya

"Is there a single conflict on the face of this earth that the Edomi haven't managed to step into?" Hravad muttered, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. Right now it was him, Siri, and the Protector in the office discussing the matter. He smoothed his mustache and then ran his thumb over the long scar across his cheek that began at the right corner of his mouth. It had been quite the dueling wound, acquired back in his more fiery days. His temper had cooled as he aged, though it could still be roused.

The Protector shrugged, distant green eyes focused on the window where songbirds hopped on the ledge and searched for the last of the seeds she'd put out for them. Khavar was thoughtful and that made her dangerous. It was hard to tell how she felt about the situation. Neither Hravad nor Siri could read her well, though they had learned to sense gathering storms of anger. This was not that, however. "The CPO has tasked us with handling mediation," the Protector said indifferently. "We are honor-bound to carry out what they have placed upon us."

Siri sighed. She was tired. Always tired, these days. At least she could sleep without nightmares now, so exhausted when she fell into bed that she simply passed out. Her skin was tan from all the time she'd spent out in the sun training this rotation and her dark eyes watched carefully for any sign from Khavar who was still about as transparent as a lump of coal. She was saying one thing but Siri had a feeling that the inscrutable woman was thinking something else entirely. "We have commitments to New Edom. I doubt Peregrino is going to accept us as impartial mediators," she said instead of protesting Nalayans being sent as peacekeepers again. Raith Immel, Bara...it felt like a fool's errand some days. But it was their fool's errand, so they would keep doing it.

Hravad shrugged. "I doubt Pahath-Moab really wants a war," he said. "New Edom's had plenty of those lately. It'd be one hell of a burden to keep up. They'd be worn down. Stuff at home's already probably miserable for them."

"The Romans did leave one hell of a clusterfuck," Siri muttered.

"Which is over and done with," Khavar said crisply. "Now we have to pick up the pieces. Adiron has set the wheels in motion. People will try and intervene—there are those who have a vested interest in war just as much as we do in peace. Our job is to make certain mediation goes as smoothly as possible while the peacekeepers hit the ground running. Siri, can I trust you with this?"

"Do I have to be the peacemaker again?" Siri said, her frustration creeping into her tone. She tried to be optimistic and to believe in human goodness. It was just that she seemed to hit a wall so many times and the world continued to heap on the unpleasant and even evil. Hers was a candle burning at both ends. It gave off a lovely light, but it was destined to burn out that much more quickly. Her lungs were permanently and severely damaged, she had waking nightmares now, and the pressure of trying to be better than good enough to compensate for the world's fucked up position was probably going to give her a stroke.

"You are Arzhani," Khavar said, her look measuring but not so intensely that it was unpleasant. "Siri, I know this is difficult and demanding. I know you are tired. But if they will listen to anyone from Nalaya, it would be you. They respect you. We respect you. Please, for the sake of the people caught up in this conflict."

Hravad had to give the Protector at least a few points for knowing exactly how to maneuver Siri into doing what was necessary. She was certainly good at appealing to Siri's better nature, which there was thankfully a lot of. He could see the Virabuyzh Yndhanur growling about it, but she would still do it.

"I understand," Siri said after a pause and a small sigh. "I'll work on drafting a plan and getting it sent out. We'll have to work with the rest of the CPO on it. The sooner we can get everyone to the table, the fewer people will die."

Hravad straightened a little as Khavar turned to face him. "What can I do for you, Arzhani?" he asked respectfully, burying his own frustration for conversation with the rest of the Avangardn later over drinks. They might as well commiserate since they couldn't actually change anything with alacrity.

"I want you to get a contingent of peacekeepers together. Get them into the thick as quickly as reasonable. I want them prepared before they jump in," Khavar said.

He frowned. "You expect the negotiations to go poorly."

"I do not presume to expect anything," the Protector said icily. The temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees and he knew her good mood was coming to an end. That meant she was as irritated as them and her patience had worn thin. "I am more interested in preparing. And that includes for the worse. You are both dismissed."

Hravad waited until they were out in the hall to look over at Siri and say, "Well, that went well."

"She's not what I would call a lovable woman," Siri said with a shrug. "But she didn't throw anything, so she is improving. Anyway, I have my work and you have yours. We can all meet up for dinner and discuss things further then, when she's hopefully in a better mood."

[New Edom]

THE FINEBERG TIMES

July 28th 2014

---

Pro-Edenist Protestors Subjected to Police Brutality!

NYC Police force protestor to dress before her arrest

by Annabelle Barca

NEW YORK CITY, Upper America— New Edomite overseas students in New York paid a visit to the famous Central Park and were first delighted to see fellow Edenists and supporters of New Edom’s religious freedoms, but then were horrified when they were subjected to arrest and police brutality.

“It was shocking,” one of the students said. “All they did was remove their sinful clothing and demonstrate support for our great nation, and then the police rode up at them and began shouting at them and threatening them!”

The police used electrical weapons akin to cattle prods to herd the hapless naked protestors in spite of their screams that they were harming no one, according to three students who were present and filmed the event.

“All of the world it seems like people are attacking our religious freedoms,” sobbed a girl who preferred to be unnamed. “Where can we be safe?”

The police even arrested Jamie DeSanta, a world famous model and philanthropist who is known for her large heart and taking up big causes.

“We are so grateful that people like her stand up for those who are unjustly treated,” said the Prophet of the End Times Church, Samuel Under, who is currently finding it difficult to walk due to his continued hunger strike against the unjust arrests and harassments of New Edomite citizens and co-religionaries in Jedoria. “I pray for her hope that she will not be treated harshly in jail, and I would like to encourage the entire Edenist movement world wide to give thanksgiving prayers that people like Jamie DeSanta have courage and conviction enough to risk their bodies and their reputations to stand up for what is right.”

A small group of protestors have gathered outside the American embassy in Fineberg, their bodies painted to resemble typical clothing of various types worn in New York City but otherwise unclothed.

The final results of the protest in NYC are not yet known, but will be reported on the moment they are.

[Novitera]

Aquila

Seymour was pleased to hear that the rest of the road to Aquila would be relatively safe. The sandbag emplacements he saw in Signifier and Aquila just made him shake his head. Perhaps they were just there to give them the feeling of safety. Good artillery, attack helicopters and air strikes could easily take care of them. All were things that the New Edomites had. He heard about the Holy Cross's human rights violations. What an ironic name for such a brutal unit.

There was a long wait at the First Cohort HQ. Seymour and Conleth spent the time in silence watching the PIF work. For what they had as an army, they were considerably efficient it seemed. Their surroundings were rough but there was plenty of discipline at work here. Most likely that was the work of the Romans, Novitera's giant of a Northern neighbor. He looked over the new man, somebody who seemed like they were in charge and hid his derision at the vanity of his uniform. It seemed so uncalled for, especially in the state that Aquila was in. Unfortunately the man did not take a liking to them either. It seemed like Seymour and Conleth were to be locked away. That made him think, what if he did have very valuable intelligence, which he did. Would they just wait until it no longer mattered? Seemed like dubious form of interrogation to him.

He grabbed Conleth's pack and handed it to Silva.

"Go ahead and do what you have to do. Just make sure this stays safe will you?" He asked. Now he addressed both Gabius and Silva. "I'll talk, promise. But only to Master of Soldiers Marcus Lucius Otho, can you pass that along to him?" He asked that as well, the seriousness in his tone clear.

[New Edom]

Aquila

The man smiled almost sadly, bleakly at Seymour and Coneth. “Ah. Now I have caught you in my web. You see…I am Otho. But you did not recognize me, and so I know now that you are spies or assassins. Take them away. I will examine this…evidence…” he waved a hand.

“I knew it,” hissed Silva triumphantly. “You’re going down boys…” she had drawn her pistol, pointing it at them.

“Well that’s a shame, we had been getting along so well,” Gabinus said looking disappointed. “Alright, let’s go.”

The two intelligence officers began to lead them away, Silva saying to a military policeman in the hall, “We need to put these two in lockup, and I’d suggest searching them very thoroughly…in fact I’d like ot help with that, I’m very good at it…they have been pronounced spies by the Master of Soldiers.”

“Spies, damn it the Edenists are everwhere…” said the MP, shaking his head. “We have a lockup across the street down the block, very secure, I can take them—Immunes, get a truck and escort for two prisoners! Damn, and they made it right to the Master’s HQ…”

“Sure, come with us, but we were ordered to take them. We’re intelligence officers, it should be our job to question them really,” said Silva firmly.

Otho watched from the door of his office, smoking impassively.

[Upper America]

Brooklyn Bridge, New York City, New York
The marchers began to prepare for their walk across the bridge. The plan was to go from the Brooklyn side to the Manhattan side, and march on to Battery Park.

"Hey, you heard of what's going on at Central Park?" One of the protestors, a brown-haired woman, asks the protest leader.

"No, what's up?" The leader, a blonde haired man, responds.

"Bunch of New Edom supporters started a riot walking down a street in the nude."

"This won't impact us, right?" The leader sounds concerned.

"No, probably not. We've got a permit. Radio said the others didn't."

"Good. Let's just hope it won't stir any concerns when people see us." The leader sounds relieved. "Alright, guys, let's get a move on."

The protestors picked up their signs, which read things like "Say NO to colonialism" and "Let Peregrino go", and started walking. The leader held up a sign that showed New Edom's leader reaching a hand over the island and the resident's clothes and holy books being sucked up by a vacuum with New Edom's laws engraved in it. Below the image, big block letters read "End Imperialism".

They began to chant things like "Independence now!" and "Take the hand of imperialism off Peregrino". When they got halfway across the bridge, they were stopped by a jogger.

"Hey, you guys are kinda blocking the bridge. Could you please move?" He asks.

"Oh, sorry. We'll move." The leader says. They promptly move off to the side and let the man pass. They continue walking across the bridge. Upon reaching the end, they continue across the street and begin to walk down the sidewalk in a single-file line, headed towards the Battery. 1 hour later, they reach the park, and set up blankets, where they sat and ate lunch. A police officer notices them, and walks up.

"Hey, you guys aren't causing any trouble, right?" He asks.

"Oh, yeah. Everything is good. We've got a permit, too." He shows the permit to the officer.

"Alright, everything seems good. Just keep your clothes on." The officer walks off with a chuckle.

Time Warner Center Police Station
The situation had calmed down, and the majority of the rioters had been dispelled. Some had been arrested, some let go, and some had fled. The police would have no problem finding them, since they were still nude.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! All I wanted to do was raise awareness!" Sobbed DeSanta, who was now being detained for public indecency and instigating a riot.

"You don't raise awareness by taking out your breasts, ma'am. You should know that's illegal." The officer who was interrogating her says.

"Women can go topless in this city. Do you not know the laws? You are a police officer." She continues to complain.

"Let me reiterate: you don't protest by showing people your genitals. Or your ass." He says.

"It was peaceful! Your guys had to threaten us." DeSanta says.

"I'm sorry that he stepped out of line, we'll deal with him later." The officer says, referring to the cop who fired the shots that ignited the situation.

"And why can't I go naked? It's pure, and it's healthy." DeSanta is a firm believer in the religion that New Edom followed.

"It's indecent. How many children do you think saw you and your group naked? That was a family location."

"Indecent my rear end! Everything on our bodies is natural."

"Sure. Because the plastic in your boobs is natural." The officer snickers.

"I'll sue your ass! Do you know how many people are on my side?" DeSanta is fired up about the comment about her breasts being fake, and snaps. She prided herself on being all-natural, although many people argued about her makeup not being natural, and the possibility of implants.

"You celebrities get out of jail so easily, you don't have to sue anyone. Doesn't mean you won't get a huge fine for instigating a riot and public indecency. So will the 50 people you had following you."

"Whatever. You know what? I can go nude if I want! All this crap about oppression is false! Forcing me to wear this polyester bullcrap is oppression!" She then begins to strip down again, pegging the officer with the clothes as she takes them off to keep him away. Nevertheless, she gets restrained.

"God, I can see why you have so many nudes in Playboy! Just calm down!" The officer yells.

A female sergeant walks in on the fight.

"Goddamn it, don't beat her!" The sergeant yells.

"She started pegging me with her clothes! What am I supposed to do? Let her run right out the frond door?" He yells angrily.

"Whatever. Ma'am, you're coming with me." The sergeant wraps the struggling woman up in a blanket, and walks her to a jail cell. DeSanta is locked inside.

"Don't let me catch you nude again. This isn't your house, you know." The sergeant says.

In the lobby, the officer meets up with the sergeant.

"Such a shame that such a sexy woman had to turn into such a nutjob. She'll have one hell of a time trying to get back into her topless porno magazines." The officer, now red faced and bloody-nosed from the fight, angrily comments.

"Woman was probably just on her period." The sergeant says. "Trust me, I know how periods affect us."

"Sure, when I see her with a tampon, I'll believe you." The officer says.

"The woman's all natural. Or so she claims. I wouldn't be surprised if she just dripped blood all over her house and had her poor maids clean it up."

"Ugghh... What's she gonna get?" The officer asks.

"At the least, freedom. She'll probably take a bunch of nude photos of herself, rant on about purity and polyester prisons, or even move to New Edom. Get herself out of our hair. At the most, house arrest. And we'll probably still hear from her."

"So, can I go home early tonight? Can't wait to tell the wife I just got to arrest a celebrity." He chuckles. "Plus, that woman damn near broke my nose with her shoes."

"Sorry, we need you around here. You've only got 3 more hours left. Suck it up."

"Ugh, fine. I'm going to go clean up." The officer goes into the bathroom to wash the blood off his face.

[Novitera]

Aquila

That was sorely unexpected and Seymour cursed himself for making that mistake. If only the CIS briefing provided him with a picture but they did not have one. They both raised their hands, Conleth looked serious while Seymour just smiled. Both knew how to keep their cool in a dangerous situation like this. Seymour ran a hand through his brown hair sighing.

"We're wasting time Mister Otho. The sooner you and I talk the better." He said then turned to Gabius. "A shame it is friend."

The two intelligence officers began to lead them away, Silva saying to a military policeman in the hall, “We need to put these two in lockup, and I’d suggest searching them very thoroughly…in fact I’d like ot help with that, I’m very good at it…they have been pronounced spies by the Master of Soldiers.”

"Yes, I advise you to be very thorough with me. I think the lady here needs a closer look." Seymour commented.

“Sure, come with us, but we were ordered to take them. We’re intelligence officers, it should be our job to question them really,” said Silva firmly.

"Indeed. I will be more talkative with the lady anyways." Seymour stated.

[Exalted Draconia]

Power had shifted yet again, mostly because the burden of supreme command was too much for Xander Mavros. He was a great statesman, but just not ready for the role of Commander-in-Chief, not with the Peregrino mess now breaking out. It was too much to ask of the man, and so he resigned and traded posts with Colonel Mantarakis, becoming Foreign Minister and serving in that capacity instead. It was for the greater good, and at least the precedent for civilian control in the future had been set.

And in fact, the new cabinet now had more civilian faces than military, as many officers of high rank, all reservists at this point, chose to retire at last. Colonel Mantarakis would head a cabinet of 17 civilians, just 8 military officers, and 1 police officer, the Minister of Police, now Colonel Spiro Mavros. Replacing Spiro in Nalaya was Dr. Aristion Rhodes, a noted academic and former assistant professor of anthropology under Dr. Mavros at the National University in Draconeum. Spiro was relieved to be commanding police again, as he was no natural diplomat.

The military's grip on power in Draconia had slipped, and it would never quite be the same country again.

The new Foreign Minister and former Head of State/Government now issued a notice to Dr. Rhodes, for him to deliver in Sevan, albeit through General Kalousdian, or Hravad, whichever could be reached first.

It was a special note from Xander himself, albeit written in Talia's hand, as hers was the better penmanship.

To our good friends in the Protectorate of Nalaya,
Especially the esteemed Protector and her chief deputies,

As the new Foreign Minister of Exalted Draconia, I have the honor of offering Draconian help in this matter of the peacekeeping or mediation, whichever might prove most useful to the cause of peace. We in Belisaria are especially concerned here and want this matter settled peacefully and as painlessly as possible.

Molon labe,
Dr. Xander Mavros, Foreign Minister of Exalted Draconia

[New Edom]

The SS Taurus, Heading for International Waters

They cleared the Peregrino EEZ and were out of the range (hopefully!) of the New Edomite Air Force and CAP. They kept their radios quiet; they had no idea if they were observed by satellite as they slipped out of harbour under cover of darkness, but they had arranged for a tug to lead them out so that their own lights were not on. Risky—you couldn’t turn a freighter on a dime—but they’d do their best.

All hands were called on deck to methodically walk through the stacks of metal containers as big as box cars and ensure that all of the cabling holding them in place was as tight as could be. One container dislodged could roll the whole ship over in a high sea. It was going to be hard work and the sun was still hot, so all of the hands stripped down to their waists and got to work.

On paper, the Taurus was delivering sugar to port in Jedoria, and they would get there. But on the way they’d make a pickup at the rendezvous with the Upper American ship.

The First Mate out to the covered deck at the back of the passenger cabins, overlooking the wide span of the open hold in which the containers were stacked. The deck crew were still checking cables and tightening up anything loose on deck. It had grown dark now, as much from the black clouds scudding in from overhead as the approaching night.

The storm! They were grateful for the storm! The Peregrinos had no great navy, but they had brave enough sailors ready to take risks for the sake of independence, to bring arms and ammunition to their landsmen comrades, and the storm provided them with the cover they needed. Let the ship yaw and roll with the big waves, let her be lashed by the wind and the rain, they would slip under the radar and satellite sweeps now and be home free, off to their rendezvous!

[New Edom]

New York, New York, Upper America

The man getting out of the expensive dark sedan wore a three piece pale grey suit with a light blue tie, a pale red shirt, polished expensive leather shoes and wore a simple polished wooden crucifix around his neck. A man in his early thirties, he was tall, well built, had rather wavy verging on curly dark abundant shining hair, but his skin was rather coarse grained, his once fine nose perhaps too broad for his face, the curve of his lips broad and sensual. His voice when he spoke though roughened by drink and tobacco already was nevertheless youthful and warm and friendly.

“I am Ezra Contux, the Consul-General for New Edom in New York,” he explained to the desk sergeant. “I have come with bail for Jamie DeSanta, and I would also like to speak with her if that’s possible. Here is my identification,” he said, presenting it, “Along with my credentials from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, acceptance by your Secretary of State and by the Office of the Mayor.”

[Upper America]

Port of Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California
1:00 am
The cargo ship, now loaded with weaponry to be sent to the S.S. Taurus, began to slip out of the harbor. Only high-ranking port officials knew where the ship was going. Paper records said it would be delivering scrap metal to a company in Hawaii, and that's what the general populace would be told, at least until this was all over.

As it pulled out, it met up with two warships. They were equipped with radar-jamming equipment to make their presence unknown. The jammers were immediately activated. To any unsuspecting person looking at a radar screen, it would look like the ships suffered some kind of mechanical failure. This would allow them to slip away unnoticed. The warships would protect the cargo ship, so if any foreign navies attacked them, they would have a fighting chance. The ships were flying the proper flags to show that they were peaceful. To any passing fleet, it would look like something catastrophic happened, and it was being escorted away. The three ships headed out towards international water. It would take a long 7 days before it would reach the rendezvous point. It would then take another 7 days to return. The cargo ship would be cleared to go on it's own, and would most likely stop at Hawaii to refuel before heading back to Los Angeles. The two warships would meet up with their fleet, which was purposely positioned near California when the cargo ship left.

[Upper America]

Time Warner Police Station, NYC, New York
10:00 am
"Alright, let me check your identifications." She looked at the credentials and identification. "I hate to tell you, but her bail has not been posted yet. She is at a court hearing right now, they should post her bail within 6 hours. You are very lucky today, a normal criminal might have their bail posted weeks after their arrest. We will call your office when we receive her bail. Have a good day."

[New Edom]

Aquila

After a very short ride to the Vigiles’ Station, the land rover pulled to a stop in a courtyard. The soldiers accompanying the prisoners and the military intelligence officers then halted and the MP officer said, “Alright, we should have them strip here.”

“Good idea,” said Silva. “Alright both of you, down to the skin. Get them some slippers or sandals, who knows what they’re hiding in their shoes?” She had heard Seymour’s comments earlier and had simply smiled at him slowly and watchfully.

They would from there lead the prisoners into the rather square brick building, built in the geometric, pragmatic style of Roman official buildings, with carved above the doorway the words The Judgments of the Lord are altogether righteous and were then led downstairs to a grey concrete corridor where they were separated and each brought into a windowless room. Each room had a chair that could be tilted backwards and had cuffs on it for wrists and ankles, and a table that an attendant in a lab coat was fussing with, which had such things as lubricants, tweezers, speculums, glass discs and glass rods on. There were mobile lamps with blazing bright bulbs currently turned towards the walls, and cameras set up on tripods handled by Vigiles with MP bands on their arms who were still dressed in the rather antiquated uniforms. Gabinus went with Coneth, Silva with Seymour.

“Why don’t you get it over with and admit who you work for?” she asked pleasantly, her eyes gleaming, her mouth as soft as a woman expecting a kiss. “And spare yourselfthe discomfort ad humiliation?”

For Gabinus’ part he said to Coneth, “You know, this is part of my job I really hate, and because I hate it, I tend to try to do it really quick, but it’s not as fun for the person on the other end. I mean imagine admitting to my dad that I do this kind of thing? Not the hero’s job I anticipated, but I have a few medical conditions that made me unable to be a helicopter pilot or artillery spotter as I’d dreamed of being…I’m sure you didn’t want to end up here either. So why don’t you just tell me where you’re from, what you’re doing here, and who you work for, and we can have a drink and laugh this off. I mean what’s it to either of us personally?”

[Nalaya]

Office of the Banak Yndhanur
Sevan, Nalaya

"Yndhanur, the Paron Ambassador of Draconia is here to see you," a leytenant said respectfully, entering Hravad's office with only a little bit of trepidation. The tall, scarred officer was a busy man and currently up to his ears in work with the situation in Peregrino being what it was. Hravad was busy at work, pen scratching across the paper in a sloppy hand. His penmanship left more to be desired than Siri's did and she was a doctor.

Hravad cleared his throat and looked up over the top of his reading glasses. He'd gotten them a few weeks ago and was still getting used to the way they slipped off the end of his nose if he wasn't careful. "Paron," he greeted. "I am afraid that the Arzhani Protector and Arzhani Kalousdian are indisposed at the moment. Busy."

He carefully left out that according to Inna, Khavar had begun playing a particularly vicious game of darts and was better left quietly alone in her office for the time being. No one wanted the Ambassador from Draconia to end up as a glorified dart board or worse. The Tigress was not a woman to be prodded when she was in a foul mood. And Siri was definitely busy trying to get everything order, probably agonizing over every detail to make certain it was perfect so no one could just reject it out of hand for errors.

The grim-faced general stood up. "Would you care for coffee or tea? Or brandy? It is becoming one of those days," he said in his accented Latin, motioning for the man to have a seat. It wasn't either of their native languages, but it wasn't a bad compromise as the lingua franca of Cornellia. "Or if you prefer, we can simply cut to the bone of the issue. I understand foreigners often prefer business before pleasantries. But there is no reason one should not drink while they discuss. And if you are hungry, I am certain we can have something sent up."

He nodded to the young leytenant serving as his assistant for the moment. It was a signal that while he had things under control, he might need the help later. Particularly if Dr. Rhodes needed anything. It was important to take good care of their guests, diplomats or not. Khavar was as rigorous in her adherence to the Nalayan virtue of hospitality as Anahid had been. Whatever that meant for each individual guest. Hravad was no less willing to bend over backwards for his visitor.

Besides, if the Draconian Ambassador was seeking the Avangardn out, it probably wasn't just for pleasantries. And he had a pretty good guess as to what would motivate this kind of visit. After all, everyone was focused on Peregrino right now. It was making his head start to ache with tension already, and it wasn't even 1500 yet. No one ever comes by just to chat, he thought a bit bitterly. And if he was stressed, he couldn't imagine the strain Siri was under. And who the hell knew about Khavar.

He didn't imagine the Protector was happy, but she wasn't venting in her ancient and accustomed fashion: murdering whatever was angering her. Probably because she couldn't slice a country to ribbons and people would stop her before she had it bombed. Or maybe Khavar was in one of her cold moods, where that ruthless calculus started to click away in the unforgiving machine that was her mind. Whatever was going on, he was glad he wasn't in her office. And he was glad the Draconian Ambassador wasn't there either.

[Novitera]

REDACTED.

[Hittanryan]

Government Office
New Laconia, Republic of Adiron

To presidential aides, DeGroot's coffee runs offered context-free snippets of his utter frustration with the situation. His smartphone was perpetually attached to his ear these days, like a plastic tumor. One wondered if the thing would just stay there if he took his hand away.

Coffee run 1: "Ghant's Prime Minister just fisted herself to death, everyone's decided she's fucking mental...no, look, she's like that coffee machine ad: 'From bean to cup, she fucks up.' I don't even want to fucking talk about her any more, did you know that ninety percent of household dust is made of dead human skin? That is what Zimya is to me."

He nodded to the aide, mouthing a 'thank you' and taking the coffee. As the aide walked out again, he heard "What fucking good is Ghant going to do? They rammed their chances of being a neutral party up the shitter with a lubricated horse cock, so they can't mediate, and they're in the middle of a fucking cabinet war! Unless they all oil up and get fucking, that's not going to resolve itself before we start our fucking landings!"

Two ours later, DeGroot was out of coffee again. The subject had changed to the Edomites this time. "Of course Kent is fucking stalling, and what...yeah, stalling because he's fucking, funny. They want control of more of the island so they'll be in a better negotiating position. I want those mediation terms sent over to that fat fuck Redstone three hours ago! What do you mean--" DeGroot groaned, rolling his eyes as the aide merely set the coffee down on his desk.

Suddenly his expression hardened and at full volume shouted into the phone "No, YOU relax! Just get it the fuck done, can you handle that?" Pause. "If you don't figure out these mediation terms right now, I'm gonna lock you in a fucking flotation tank and pump it full of sewage until you fucking drown!"

The aides drew straws for the next one, as it seemed to be getting worse. This time DeGroot walked over to the aide and pulled the cup out of his hand as his phone rang. "Yeah? The by-election...no, we're not calling off a press appearance and giving Saito an excuse to say we don't have things in hand. I don't care if he's so dense that light bends around him or if he was selected from a fucking master race of highly-gifted toddlers. Put him on, and make sure he walks the fucking line this time. You know our line on Peregrino."

So far, not too bad, had things gotten better. Suddenly DeGroot frowned in response to something said on the other end. "Or what? Or I will remove his iPod from its tiny nano-sheath and push it up his cock. I will then plug some speakers up his ass and adjust the volume with my fucking fist. And every time I hear something I don't like, which will be every time that something comes on, I will skip to the next track by crushing your balls!"

Now the aides were fighting over who got to make the coffee runs.

[Novitera]

Aquila

Seymour eyed the old building admiring the architecture. He could read the inscribed Latin. Most Noviterans would have had some difficulty but Seymour had been trained. Both stripped down with Seymour making his usual quips.

"It's a bit hot. I think I'll get comfortable." He said before taking of his shirt and stripping off the rest of his clothes.

The two of them marched down into the cells naked before being separated. Into two rooms. They saw the implements and that set off alarms. Neither were really in a mood to get tortured. The prospect of torture would scare any man, no matter how hard he was. It just did not scare them enough to act rashly.

"Ah, torture. I should have known the lot of you were so unprofessional." Seymour paused. "How do I know you won't put the screws to me anyways? Might as well make you work for it right? Let's make a deal, you give me my clothes back and I'll sing for you...alone. Just you and me."

Conleth in the other room looked at Gabius. Though he was the far less experienced one between the two CIS operatives, he was also the more serious in demeanor. "We both chose to be here and do what we do." Conleth replied, saying more than he had this entire trip. "I want my clothes back on and I'll have that drink now. Then I'll tell you...alone. Just you and me. You might torture me anyways, might as well get something out of it for myself."

[New Edom]

Aquila

Silva screamed suddenly, “No! You imbecile, you smug smiling idiot, you’re going to be turned inside out if you don’t talk NOW! I’m going to walk out that door, and the torture will begin. If I actually close it, it starts, do you understand that? Does that actually make an impression on you, you fucking idiot? Now here I go…” she began to walk towards the door.

Gabinus was not privy to this, but nevertheless, he said, “I’m sorry, it won’t work that way. You see, I think you two might be assassins, wanting someone of really high profile for some reason. Who knows? But we’ve caught you now, is what I think. So I think we’ll start with reducing you to the point where you are begging to tell the truth. You can avert all this now of course. If your intentions were truly good, you wouldn’t be so secretive, but as it stands…” he shrugged. “So I’m going to give the order in a moment for the torture to begin. I don’t like it, but it’s my job, so there it is.” His bland expression and calm eyes showed that this was the attitude of a farmer towards a pig he rather liked but intended to butcher anyway.

[Novitera]

Aquila

The emotional reaction from her was completely unprofessional and he thought genuine. That said that Silva was not bred for this line of work. She was an amateur by all standards. He could not argue with results but if they were not on the same side, Seymour would be tortured and Silva would be walking away with shoddy intelligence.

"I'm with the Outift." He said casually referring to the CIS nickname. Anybody who saw a Noviteran spy flick would know what that meant. "My organization wants to bring in arms shipments and I'm here to coordinate. I would have liked to speak to somebody more relevant but it seems you'll have to suffice. You should know that if even a hint of this leaks, they'll abort. I'll be left here to die and the PIF gets nothing. Everybody loses so have a care who you report this to." Seymour warned her.

In the other room Conleth chuckled at Gabius. "I'm new to this business so I can't speak for myself. But I've heard stories of Seymour in the CIS. They're just stories...legends more like. However I'd bet that if he was here to kill somebody important, they'd be dead. I guess the Outfit didn't want to risk two good agents by sending me. But if I was going to kill you, you'd be a dead man by now too. Like I said, we are both doing our jobs. I'm just better at mine than you are at yours and mine is to help bring in arms shipments to the PIF. It's too bad I'm only so good. Once the New Edomite fleet gets here there'll be no running a blockade. The clock is ticking."

[Ghant]

Quality Bay

Michael arrived at the Palace and figured tonight was as good as any for a swim. Fortunately, he brought a pair of trunks with him, up in his room. He went up there and he collected then from his bag and changed into them . He was well built, with a six pack and tight abs, and strong arms with broad shoulders. When he emerged from his room, He was greeted by a servant. Michael was shown the pool by the servant, who led him straight there.

The servant spoke to him when they got there, which was a very nice pool indeed, with decent scenery. “If there is anything else you might need Highness…you have but to pick up that phone on the table there…and someone will come running.”

“Thank you, kind sir. I will be sure to let someone know.” The servant stared at Michael for a minute before leaving.

Not long afterwards, Lavinia appeared. “Oh…Prince Michael…I’m surprised you were shown to this pool, it doesn’t really have that nice of a view, it mostly just is a place to relax, which is why I sometimes come here, but you don’t have to sit here and be bored…I will call a servant at once to show you to the more commonly used pool, which commands an excellent view of the gardens, is closer to the tennis court and walking paths, and is much more suitable!” she walked towards the table with the phone.

Michael couldn’t help but stare at her body with desire. “Uh, yeah sure, whatever suits your fancy, my lady. I only aim to please.”

[Hittanryan]

Orchid Center
Puerto Rojo, Republic of Adiron

The panel was going smoothly so far. It was a joint event for the Isidium Foundation and Center for Democratic Progress. Questions came about Arcologia, Lazodiria, New Othman, and New Edom. Tom Alvarado, part of a panel, had been rigorously drilled in the party positions on all of these, and luckily he had good enough delivery to make them sound dynamic. So far he'd been charming the press, wearing a less than strictly formal grey business suit. Now, of course, this late in the campaign, a brand new foreign concern had cropped up: Peregrino.

A redheaded woman in a suit and slacks rose. "Alisha Morton, New Laconia Times, a question for Mr. Alvarado," she said. He flashed his winning smile and motioned towards her. "The outbreak of hostilities on Peregrino is quickly leading to what many are calling a humanitarian disaster. As the SDP candidate, how does the government plan on addressing this?"

One single briefing was all that stood between him and floundering. "Well, as I'm sure you're all aware, our government led the effort to bring the Cornellian Peace Organization into the Peregrino equation," Alvarado began. "It is the government's position that deescalation of the current conflict was necessary to provide aid to civilians caught in the crossfire and help Peregrino's long-delayed recovery process, and that the mediation process facilitated by the CPO is the best way of doing that."

"Can you explain why the government lobbied so hard for this mission? And why it is committing such a large peacekeeping force to this task?"

'Wait, what?' Tom thought. "I believe I just explained the government's position, Ms. Morton. I can't comment on the specifics of the peacekeeping forces, though their mission does involve deterring both sides of what amounts to a civil war from killing each other. As I think most would agree, that's not exactly a job you want to show up empty-handed to." There were a few chuckles from the audience.

Morton seemed to puff herself up. "But what about Peregrino in particular warrants such attention and expense? Is this a political move? Surely, if Adiron looked the other way, New Edom would simply storm the island? Is the government's position, therefore, one of support for the rebels?"

That was a trap, but one Tom was ready for. "Ms. Morton, if Adiron looked the other way, two million Peregrinos would be looking at a life of constant war and starvation."

"Does the government support Peregrino independence?" Morton finally asked bluntly.

"If it did, we couldn't be part of the mediation process, which the government views as essential to peace in Peregrino. We are neutral on the issue, and that is really all there is to it," he said decisively. "This isn't about screwing over New Edom or independence movements, this is about saving lives and ending a destructive conflict whose effects will be felt throughout the international community if it progresses any further. It's about allowing organizations like the Foundation and the CDP to do what they do best."

That was the last of the major panel questions directed at him, and the panel's conclusion meant it was time for VIP and Media Night to begin. Unfortunately, he had to remain on his best behavior. Last thing he could afford during a campaign was a repeat of that episode at WA Headquarters. Not that it hadn't been fun, but if the press ever found out a certain princess--now queen--was involved...hell to pay.

It was increasingly hard to stay on his best behavior when he saw a woman in a slinky blue dress walking up to him. Swaying hips tolling like a bell, the sweet curve of her rear filling out her dress, and her ample chest bouncing just a bit with each step. Wait a minute...all that was familiar. Tammy. Hair up, no longer loose and blowing in the wind.

"Mr. Alvarado," she said with honey in her voice. She teasingly sipped a mixed drink through a straw.

"Ms. Lemmon," he replied. Warning bells were going off. An encounter with a contributor's daughter? Bad idea. "How are your parents doing?"

"Back home," she said, apparently trying to reassure him. "Hey, some friends of mine are going out later, wanna come?"

"Sure," Tom answered. 'What did I just say?'

"Great," she said. "Come meet me at my place before we head out, here I'll text you..." She pulled a phone from her bag, pressed a few buttons, then sauntered away.

Tom looked at his phone. It was a photo of who he assumed was Tammy's leg, with her address on a card pinned to a garter. He couldn't help but chuckle out loud at how utterly blunt it was.

[Nalaya]

To Paron Minister Benjamin Kent of New Edom, Paron Imperator Aemilius Hosidius Geta of Peregrino
CC Nations of the Cornellian Peacekeeping Organization
From Virabuyzh Yndhanur Siri Kalousdian of Nalaya, on behalf of the CPO
Regarding Mediation of the Peregrino Conflict
Encryption MODERATE

To the Concerned Parties,

This is the proposed plan for mediation between the Allied States of New Edom and the Republic of Peregrino. Should any party request revision, that request will be reviewed and alterations may be made. It is as follows:

Any discussions would be held at a location to be disclosed in Jedoria. It is requested that both New Edom and Peregrino each supply lists of grievances and issues which would form the foundation of the agenda for this discussion. The agenda would be proposed by the mediating party or parties and submitted to the representatives of both sides for review and approval. Simultaneously, the involved parties should be working towards a cessation of violence at least for the duration of this mediation. Future plans such as a formal ceasefire or peacekeeping area inspections would be left to the CPO to determine in conjunction with New Edom and Peregrino.

The talks would be scheduled for several hours each day until the issue either concludes in a plan of action for resolution or the parties have withdrawn. All delegates involved would be expected to conduct themselves with appropriate decorum towards each other. The parties would be communicating through representatives in the presence of a mediator or mediators. Ground rules regarding interaction with the media would be decided based upon the input of the other parties involved. Media would be permitted with limited access at the discretion of the involved parties.

Deadlines would not be set for decisions, and each issue would be considered as a separate piece of the whole. This is not an all or nothing debate, but one set forward in the hopes of an equitable solution that will require compromise on both sides. All involved parties would have to resolve the issues, assisted but not governed by the mediator.

The mediation team would ideally be multinational, headed by a Nalayan appointee as per CPO request, and comprised of a core group of individuals with experts and observers being consulted as needed. Any agreements would be drafted jointly with the representatives of New Edom and Peregrino. Mediation would end if the belligerent parties withdraw from said mediation.

Allegations of human rights abuse would be investigated by the mediation's observers. Rogue actors would be investigated as thoroughly as possible by peacekeeper intelligence assets and dealt with as the situation demands.

This is the summary of the plan for mediation thus far. Input from all parties would be appreciated and will be taken into consideration.



On behalf of the Protectorate of Nalaya as requested by the Cornellian Peacekeeping Organization,

Siri Kalousdian, Virabuyzh Yndhanur

[New Edom]

Aquila

Silva said coldly, “You’re still just talking shit. The Outfit? Do you mean you’re from Novitera? If so, what are you doing here and what do you want? You’ve been jerking me around, and now, I want to know exactly why you are here and what you’re up to. You have exactly one minute to start making some sense or I’m telling them to get started, you’re already sounding like a waste of time. Anyone could say he was CIS.”

Gabinus looked surprised. “Really? That’s strange…better at your job than I am at mine? Then why are you naked and tied up, while I’m here? Well I guess people have strange standards. Anyway, I can’t think why if I had such information as you’re offering I’d tell anyone but someone of importance, for many reasons, but you seem a rarely stubborn character, and who knows what your orders are. So I’m going to presume you have no actual arrangements, or they’d exist already and you’d already have a contact. So you must have decided that you’d like to set up arrangements in person with someone of rank.

“The Master of Soldiers seems to be very tired and stressed out, and probably is rather worried about being spied on—possibly even by our own side. Anyway he’s nevertheless the right person to talk to about this, for they’ll never let someone who isn’t a known factor get near the Imperator. I’m going to give you your clothes back but I’d better go see him myself, and explain the situation to Silva before she does something horrible to your comrade, and in the meantime I’m going to make sure you’re guarded.” He smiled faintly. “Don’t go anywhere.”