Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings

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PacNorWest

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#518

Mark was standing, casually examining a rifle Donny was passing to him. Clora hurried as fast as she could, arriving where Mark, Gary and Donny were talking, slightly out of breath.

"Mark, there is a prince arriving within the hour and I need to brief you on what we have discovered along with the urns."

Mark nodded at Donny and Clora could see the young man was thrilled as he stroked the rifle furniture. "Clora, talk to me on the way back to the house, how many urns, and what else is involved?" Mark took her arm and purposely walked slowly, giving Clora time to catch her breath.

"10 urns of various sizes, and a large amount of household type keys on plain rings. Probably close to a 100 or a little more. I don't know if the two are related, but I have the feeling that the prince will be interested, once he knows they are here," her breath came out in a rush.

"Walk slower," Mark instructed lovingly, slowing her onward rush. "Are the urns and the keys in the basement?"

"Yes, but the keys were found after we dug up the majority of the urns, curious that we didn't find them the same time as the urns. The prince that's coming is suspicious of us, but a more reasonable person than the previous monarchs."

"That's got to be a plus," Mark's dry response caused Clora to laugh. "I get the feeling that you have had some prior interaction with this young man, and he seems unusually inclined to be friendly toward you."

"Who knows," Mark shrugged. "More important, do you trust Big and Tilly in a situation such as this. If we tell them they cannot speak or act threatening, will they comply?"

"I believe so. Tilly is light years different than Helga, very practical and calm. You have more information on Big, than I do. Will he be calm if we women are threatened, or in a shoot out?"

"Do you have any feeling that something like that might happen?" Mark was serious, gripping his rifle tighter.

"No, it feels calm in that respect, somewhere in all that mail is a letter from the prince telling us he will be here today.: Clora frowned at the bulging coats that Gary and Donny were carrying in the house.

:I swear I don't understand what has gone on, but we'll have to talk about it later." Mark sighed hard as he walked in the house. On impulse, he walked over to lift the phone receiver and hear the dial tone. He had just replaced the handle, when the phone rang, startling them all.
 
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PacNorWest

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#519

The voice on the other end of the phone line was very cultured, and inquired politely if the American would be home to receive the prince.

"Yes," Mark answered equally polite to the voice. "We have had a situation here and do apologize for not returning the prince's letter. We will be here, and welcome the prince."

"Very good, we shall be there within the hour. Goodbye." The voice finished and hung up.

"Within the hour," Mark sang out. "I want all children to be there in their homes, all people aware of the danger, and Toby, Milo, Big and Gary please stay here. Everyone else, please escort the families to their houses and stay to be security."

"Dang," Milo complained, "we can't get through one crisis before another pops up. My mind is still spinning from the blast we just got of dropping us back in modern times. I looked at the cars, they are all new appearing, with a mix of older vehicles. So I would guess we have equal footing with the years as it should be. Now how we got here from where ever we were, I don't care to guess. I'm just accepting it at face value until I can reason it out."

Men agreed with Milo and turned their attentions to the problem at hand. They brought up the urns and the bucket of keys and placed them along the wall.

Clora and Tilly put together a tea service, sweeping the floor well and scrubbing the table. They had barely finished before the wapp wapp of an approaching helicopter could be heard.

"I want everyone to not speak, unless I ask you a question. Is that understood." Mark's harsh voice startled them all.

Low murmurs agreed, and Mark looked specifically at Big and Tilly. "You are untested in this, and you will be removed immediately under gunpoint if there is even a hint of a problem."

The cook and handyman nodded solemnly, feeling great pressure to agree to something they hadn't experienced before. Big stood protectively beside Tilly and searched for her hand to hold. They gave each other weak smiles.

As the usual routine, the main copter waited to sit down, until the two gunships settled in a circle. Tilly heard Big gather a deep breath and stiffen his posture. Suddenly it was crystal clear why Mark ordered no talking. He could see the heavy armament attached to the duo, manned by men willing to give their lives in the protection of their prince.

Two guards came in to sweep the kitchen of threats, and then the prince walked in, protected by a tight circle of bodyguards.

Clora thought the prince they were seeing was so youthful, that his attempt to grow the required facial hair, was not accomplishing the desired results. Of course, that didn't mean the prince was any less powerful, just more unpredictable.

The young prince looked around, settling his gaze on Mark, and adressing the man as "American."

Mark nodded, "your highness, welcome; will you have tea?" he tried to put forth a welcome the prince would understand and accept.

"If you will take tea with me, and drink first." The youth grinned at his own joke, alluding to the fact Mark might wish to poison him.

"Certainly," Mark replied, "Clora, please pour a cup for yourself, one for me and the third for our guest."

Clora nodded and did as she was instructed without comment. Mark put the cup in front of the prince, and the youth motioned for his body guard to take the first sip.

"Would you like another cup?" Mark asked, and was surprised when the prince shook his head no.

"This is acceptable. American, I see you have urns, are you willing to sell them to us?"

"I will give them to you, I have no pleasure in collecting them. The same with the keys, although we don't understand the significance, if they belong to you, they are yours."

The prince motioned for two of his men to pick up the urns and bring them to the table for the royal inspection.

"How do you receive these urns?" the prince inquired calmly.

Mark motioned to Clora to speak. "Before these 10, all the urns were delivered by a national delivery service. The ten you see, were found buried in our woods." Clora stopped, not wanting to involve herself in a long drawn explanation of her abilities.

"Your highness, we just got home and have not inspected the area where the urns were found. You are welcome to bring equipment to search for additional urns, we do not want to keep these items from you."
 
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PacNorWest

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#520

"Do you remember me?" the young prince grinned. "You refused to allow us to have a New Years Eve in New York, unless we were handcuffed to you."

"I was never told your names, your father was highly annoyed with me but in truth, I would do the same again. Your father simply didn't grasp the notion that people here in America would not and will not respect your station in life. Are you aware that you would be just as dead, for wanting to fulfill a notion such as New Years Eve?" Mark looked straight at the prince underscoring his seriousness.

"I was very impressed with your reply to my father. Several days later, we discovered a hit squad was actively waiting for us to mingle in the crowd. So, your stubbornness, saved my life, and I am in your debt."

"I am happy I was of service. Have you thought about bringing in equipment to look for additional urns? And I stress once again that the urns have to be coming to the United States in your plane."

The prince pursed his lips with a thoughtful expression. "My father said something to that effect; but in general dismissed the idea. Why do you say that?"

"Some of the urns have been sent to us more than once. Look at the bottom, there will be a small scratch to mark that the urn is on a return trip. As quickly as the urns are missed in your country, they are delivered here, so how else would they be shipped so rapidly? It is well organized, bold and what are they smuggling?" Mark asked for information, and the young man hesitated, before answering.

"We don't know, nothing is missing beyond the annoying pilfering that happens." the prince replied, "If they are caught, the punishment is death, so you are correct, they are very bold. My father talked about your wife, that she could 'know' things. Does she know about this?"
 
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PacNorWest

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#521

Mark looked at Clora for her permission, and was rewarded with a wiggle of her fingers on her arm.

"My wife will need to touch your arm or hand, before any 'thoughts' will come to her." Mark explained as the prince watched them curiously. The young man was cautious, thinking about having a foreign woman touch him.

"That is necessary?" The prince inquired with a serious frown. "That is not permitted, surely you know that."

"I am aware," Mark switched over to Farsi, "but there has to be a connection before any thoughts will come to her. One touch is all that is required, and from then on, she call be in the 'know.'

Clora walked over to the sink to wash her hands, drying them on a towel.

"You're sure this has to be done, this way?" The prince was objecting to having his person touched. Mark shrugged, showing it was of no interest, one way or another to him or Clora.

Milo and Toby were watching with interest. Toby got up and grabbed the coffee pot and poured more brew for himself and Milo.

"These are your sons?" The prince stalled for time to over think his indecision.

"I have five sons that make me proud," Mark spoke quietly, in Farsi he told the prince that his sons would never betray him, and that made him even prouder.

"If you need more reason to allow a touch, my wife would be able to tell you which woman should become your head wife; with devotion to you only."

The prince jerked his head up in surprise. "That is possible? I have a very difficult choice to make, among three most very beautiful women."

"It is possible," Mark assured the young man, stopping to take a drink of tea.

"I will allow a brief touch, on my arm," came the hesitant reply. And he pulled bsck the flowing burnoose sleeve, to expose a tattooed arm.

Clora went around the head of the table and stopped beside Mark. "I need to touch skin without ink," she calmly said, waiting for the next instruction.

Mark relayed the message, and waited. Slowly, the prince turned his arm over, exposing the inner wrist.

"That will do," Clora accepted the area and moved to the end of the table, but made no move to touch the prince.

"I am ready," he finally admitted, and motioned to Clora to get it over with.

Index finger to inner wrist and Clora jerked her hand back like she had been burned. There was so much to say, where to start.
 
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PacNorWest

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#522

Clora moved back to where Mark was sitting and sat to his left, away from his gun hand, a fact duly noted by Mark. That in itself put Mark on alert.

When Mark went on alert, that fact was noted by Toby and Milo, and they pinched up a little.

"So much to tell you. I am going to start with the woman you should marry, to be secure in a good, long lasting union. DO NOT marry any of the three woman you fancy, two of them are controlled by your uncles, and the third by a cousin.
They will try to have you killed many times, if you are foolish enough to take them in marriage." Clora stopped, waiting for the young prince to assimilate the information.

"Then who? Who would not betray me?" came the confused plea.

"There is a plain, brown haired woman with striking blue-green eyes. She is highly educated, understands the complexities of running a kingdom and would stand by you with good advise. She is skilled in running a household, has a calm demeanor, and would give her life for you. She does not fit the image you believe you deserve; but you marry one of the others at your peril." Clora again waited for the prince to catch up to her.

"I know the woman you speak of, but she is so plain," he spoke sadly, shaking his head. Tenting his fingers under his chin, the prince stared at Clora. "My father said many times that he could not understand how you know these things; but that you never failed to be right. He was also very amused at the little gun you carried; do you still carry it?"

"I do," Clora didn't elaborate, but she calmly said, "there is much more, do you want to hear information that you will not like?"

"Yes, I am ready."

"Do not take your private jet back to Arabia. Your plane will be ditched over the open ocean. The second part of that warning is, do not let the pilot you have trusted, fly you anywhere. He is part of the conspiracy to move the urns. They are sent full of drugs that are smuggled into the States. There is a secret compartment in the fuel tanks where the urns are carried. Some of the urns were sent to cause your family distress; such as the baby urns we returned to your father. Think about this and if you have questions, ask them. There is more."
Clora stopped to take a drink of coffee.

When she did, Milo and Toby relaxed enough to taste their own brew. It was plumb scary to hear Ma, rattle off all the warnings. True, they were aware she had a powerful sense, but the scope of it was astonishing.

Big was standing with Tilly, and he felt her involuntary shiver, as the information was given to the prince. Tilly might have been a bit superstitious, but so was Big, so they were a well matched pair.

Big cleared his throat, and the noise made Mark turn around and frown at him. The handyman didn't say anything and Mark turned around to keep his attention focused on the young and unpredictable prince.

"You are sure?" the prince asked, not disbelieving, but not wanting to believe either.

Clora nodded her assent.

"Then please continue," came the courteous reply.

Clora rubbed her chin, feeling conflicted about what she needed to say. ""When you return, without dying in the plane crash, your mother will be in danger from your first and second uncles. Please protect her, she has only your best interests at heart. It would, also be the best idea for you to stay close to home for a long while. Your country needs you with a competent partner to show you have your country as a first priority. A hands on ruler that is wise and compassionate. New York will cause nothing but heartache and headache for you. And," Clora paused dramatically, "your first born will be a boy."

"So you see me marrying the plain woman?"

"Yes."

"Do you want an invitation?" The prince deadpanned, to break the tension in the room, causing all to smile.

"No thank you, you will be smart and capable by yourself. There will be more urns coming here, those brought in today in your plane, but we will notify you right away, if you leave a number for Mark to call."

"Send my secretary in," the prince told the guard closest to the door, "also two guards to remove the urns. The keys, why are they here?" He asked Mark, and ignoring Clora, as his interaction with a woman was finished.
 
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PacNorWest

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#523

Clora said something to Mark in a very low tone, she needed to tell the prince the rest of her warning, in private, before he left.

Mark tried to come up with an emergency plan B, but it was difficult. Instead of answering the prince about the curious keys, Mark asked about the helios having metal detectors on board, and would the prince allow Mark's sons to assist the guards in searching the ground.

"If you have the time, it would be most beneficial to see if we have missed any urns or keys, would your guard go with my sons for an inspection?" Mark pressed as hard as he dared, trying to get the prince alone without this particular guard.

The prince looked sharply at Mark, and then seemed to make up his mind, waving his hand for the guard to leave with Milo and Toby, who were getting up from the table.

The guard protested fiercely that he could not leave the prince in the company of the evil, american dog. But the prince reprimanded him sharply, and the man left, continuously looking over his shoulder.

The prince started to say something, but was interrupted by Mark. "Your highness, you need to listen carefully to what my wife has to say to you. The secretary may stay, he is loyal to you, but you are in great danger from the guard that just left. Go ahead Clora."

Clora explained that three men in his delegation were assassins, charged with killing the young prince here on Mark's property, so the blame would fall on the Americans.

The prince didn't look at Mark or Clora, but kept steady eye contact with his secretary. They seemed to come to some agreement, without speaking.

"We knew of the one, but not the other two," prince Fayed replied slowly, " what do you propose we do now?"

What ever Mark was going to say, was cut short by a burst of automatic weapons fireing.
 
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PacNorWest

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#524

Donny, backed up by Gary and Tess, shot the rogue guard as the man drew down on Milo and Toby. Donny's new rifle made a ffssttt sound and accurately hit the guard in the back of the head.

The rogue had been so intent on positioning himself to kill Milo and Toby; he forgot to look behind himself.

There was stunned silence from the workers that were criss-crossing the shady woods, looking for additional urns and keys.

When the six man crew realized what had happened, the air was rent with Arabic screams and shouts; the six banding together holding shovels and metal detectors at the ready, as to ward off further shots.

The second guard was standing helplessly out side, his head swiveling from the band of six to the door where he expected his prince to appear with orders.

Inside, Mark stood in front of the prince as protection, until he had everything sorted out to his satisfaction. Then, he stepped aside to let the royal personage order calm to his men.

" I believe we will leave for the time being. I will leave the metal detectors here for you to use, and I will give careful consideration to your warnings. Thank you for the tea and observations," the prince extended his hand for Mark to shake, he motioned to the pilots to begin warm up procedures.


Folks, I am having eye problems tonight. Sorry for such a short chapter. Pac.
..
 
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PacNorWest

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#525

In the confusion of the prince and his entourage warming up the copters, Mark made sure they took the body of the guard with them.

"I won't be responsible for his body, and I certainly don't intend to provide any explanations for his death," he sternly told the potentate, that's your baggage."

The dead man was unceremoniously flung in the cargo hold and off they went, the gunships leading the way.

The dust was still swirling , as Mark made his way toward Donny, the incessant honking of a black SUV with dark tinted windows, caught everyone's attention as it waited at the gate.

Gary went to interrogate the noisy driver, as the rest of the clan fanned the dirt from their faces, and finished sneezing the rest of it away.

"Now what?" Mark was muttering under his breath, "I'm beginning to feel a little unnerved by this all. I'm still not sure what century I'm in."

The men watched as Gary opened the gate and the large Suburban drove sedately up to the house.

The man that got out was older, still blonde with short buzz cut hair and a down right flashy western cut suit and black mirror polished boots.

Ivory sidled over to give an inspection, and leave a few long white dog hairs as a memento, on that fancy suit.

The man looked around, zeroed in on Mark as the leader of the clan.

"Hello," the newcomer strode to Mark. "I'm the director of the Marshals Service, and I have your paychecks. My name is Arnold Branch, but everyone calls me Woody."
 
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PacNorWest

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#526

There was a long drawn out silence. Milo was the first to speak. "I'm confused, I thought Seaton Scott was the director. We were just in D.C. to meet with him."

"No way," the friendly tone squashed Milo's response. "I've been the director for two years, and if I'm correct, Seaton Scott was a director way back in the 1800;s. I'm not totally sure, history is not my forte. But I can assure you that I would remember if I had met with you lately, your reputations are well known."

"Paychecks?" Milo prompted his boss. "Really? For how long back?"

"Two years; for some reason your names had fallen through the cracks, and I'm here to extend my apologies and ask that you please continue the excellent work that you are noted for." Woody extended his left hand with the plump envelopes, and his right hand for a handshake with the frowning Mark.

"I see you and your son, but I also have checks for a Tess Linderman. Can you tell me where I might find her?" Woody Branch calmly looked at Mark.

"Tess is my daughter and she is here in the house." Mark hesitated for a second and then issued an invitation.

"Won't you please come in?"
 
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