Natalia’s Game. Крейг Т. Бушар

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СКАЧАТЬ of course, everyone in my country has. But we don’t know the details.”

      “I’ll tell you. Operation Bright Light brought our countries together. We built a CIA prison in Bucharest that allowed us to skirt our laws limiting the interrogation of terrorists. We interrogated Sheikh Mohammed in that facility, and Mohammed spilled the beans on the location of Bin Laden. We paid your government greatly to conclude that deal, efef ctively funding your ground-to-air missile program, which will be important to you when the Russians come calling.”

      “What is the point?” She is getting impatient.

      “I’ve known your President a very long time. He owes me one.” I’m not about to tell her or anyone else that the President is one of my closest friends. But, by the look on her face, she does not like this.

      “In any event, your three questions are up. We kept our deal?”

* * *

      “Yes, Crew,” I say softly, “you lived up to the deal, but we will make another one. I have no answer for your suggestion that I leave my country and sleep with you each night for your gain.” He looks taken aback by my honesty. My biting honesty. Oh, if my father could see me now. So far, Crew isn’t dull and doesn’t lack moral fiber. My gaze flits over him. He’s clean. An egomaniac? We shall see. But he is not a pig.

      Enough of that. I pull Crew to my lips. To me, there are fake and real kisses. The former are markers leading to the fulfillment of human needs. They mean nothing. The real ones are delicious and passionate and expose the giver and taker’s desires, triggering profound feelings. Desire creates action. Without passion, there is no action. His kiss is electric.

      I have loved no one. Maybe it’s time to change that.

* * *

      I brush her cheek lightly with my fingers and kiss her neck. Then her shoulder, on my way to her breasts. She has goosebumps. My pledge is history. Her legs are parted, and I keep them that way with my relaxed hand, then with my tongue, making any attempt on her part to resist useless. She jolts and pulls my face to hers, desperate to swallow me whole. I can feel her breath as her lips search for places that will make me lose control. We make love like there is no tomorrow. She falls asleep in my arms, safe, cared for, and respected. I wrap her as no other man could.

      The Dream

      In my dream, I see a female falcon soaring above the clouds early in the morning. The falcon lands in its nest atop a mountain. Her chick is waiting in the nest for food. The falcon feeds the chick and stretches one and then its other wing over the chick to protect it while it eats.

* * *

      I watch Natalia in her dream. Her REM elevates quickly. Deep REM typically happens ninety minutes into sleep, if at all. She is in deep REM after just a few minutes. I can’t help but whisper to her, “What do you see?”

      She is motionless. Her eyelids flutter; her face is calm, tranquil. “I see a mother falcon and her chick.”

      “Where?”

      “In their nest close to the top of a mountain.”

      I’ve indeed found a lucid dreamer. “What happened next?”

      “The falcon rose majestically from its nest. It was angry.”

      She is struggling. Her words turn to, “No. No.” Her body contorts. She’s in a nightmare. Crew, help. Help! She sends me thoughts to wake her up. I can hear them. But they are only thoughts. I shake her shoulders. “Natalia, wake up. Wake up!” Her eyes open. She breathes deeply and reaches for me.

      “What did you see?”

      “A falcon trying to kill me.”

      I know that the most frequent bad dreams involve something or someone trying to kill the dreamer.

      We sleep peacefully, but we sleep too late.

* * *

      My God, they will be waking up soon. “Crew, it’s almost dawn. I must get back.”

      At that very moment, a falcon takes flight. The drone is a perfect combination of animal and artificial intelligence. Its job is to locate me. I know this drone flies at speeds approaching 100 miles per hour, so it will not take long to find me.

      I’d learned from the IT guys about the drone called “Einstein.” According to the geeks, it was designed and named for research on birds and bees, first conducted by Albert Einstein in 1949. Einstein believed that animals could be the key to discovering human capabilities, and he was right. The SRI spent more than a decade turning Einstein’s idea into the perfect intersection between biology and physics. The Einstein drone can survey an area of roughly ten square kilometers and launch micro-drones the size of bees, blanketing an additional ten square kilometers. But Einstein does more than search. It can fire a deadly laser beam, making it a state-of-the-art war machine, a national treasure.

      And it is looking for me.

      The Manifest

      The sun is rising, and we are far from the fence. The SRI may already have noticed. I watch Natalia run down the beach and dive into the water. She knows her job, and maybe her life, is on the line. I am mesmerized by her movement. Undeniably great legs, a perfect body nearly all visible, at least thirty years my junior. She runs and swims efof rtlessly. 5–9”, 36-24-35, plus or minus. The old scale is still good for me.

      Last night, energy flowed up my spine each time she touched me. It traveled my core in a way identical to when I took a metaphysical leap. She has a rare reservoir of energy. Natalia didn’t wait for me. Good. She will need to be independent to make our relationship work – a relationship now predestined.

      I know it will take at least twenty minutes for her to return to her cottage. So I have to hurry.

      I see the bird-like drone above at about 1000 feet. I’ve not seen a drone so sophisticated; its disguise is perfect. Absent the sound; I might have been looking at a falcon. Natalia’s dream predicted this flight.

      I quickly return to the rock cavern where we spent the night, sit down, cross my legs, close my eyes, and meditate. My near-silent mantra is lyrical; it’s a repetition of the nine words of the Falun Gong until my voice finds the perfect frequency.

      Fa-Lun Da-Fa Hao

      Zhen-Shan-Ren Hao.

      In Mandarin: Falun Dafa is Good. Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance is Good. The power of these words cannot be understood or understated. They are part of the foundation of my ability to manifest, project, and teleport. My eyes remain closed as my mind seeks the astral plane. Energy drifts into me from forces in difef rent dimensions spinning as I absorb power from parallel universes.

      As a college kid, I discovered the power of this mantra and somehow leaped forward by attaching this mantra to the principles of quantum physics. Then, when I stumbled into the combination, the world turned upside down. Later, I realized this power enabled me to do almost anything in the world of spying. In China, people are still arrested for even uttering these Falun Gong words because they threaten the Communist Party. This may be good because my enemy, Johnny Li, will never discover this path to power.

      Enough of that. I’m wasting time. Natalia needs to get back. Energy travels to the left side of my brain and then to the right side in Hemi-Sync. It took twenty minutes to reach a transcendental СКАЧАТЬ