Iron Rain Redux

Some readers requested a background on the previously posted story 'Iron Rain' I hope you enjoy and this makes things clearer.

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Late December 2010

The Bastion Military Academy was silent in the late hours of pre-dawn. The cadets were asleep and blissfully unaware of the terrible event that was to befall one of their own. Corporeal William Bell had managed to sneak out and perform a deed most foul. The stars of heaven began to fade one by one as the perfect black of night was diluted with a deep indigo. As the clock ticked relentlessly forward patches of violet and sapphire began to splatter the celestial canvas. With a suddenness of breaking dawn a deep ruby color replaced the last vestiges of ebony and burnt orange raced across the sky as the eastern horizon all golden was pregnant with the promise of the coming sun. Shafts of true daylight stabbed over the ancient tree line that edged the parade ground and the virgin snow that lay near perfect in the light of the day star. But in the middle of the field burned another light full of blazing white intensity that rivaled the sun as the magnesium engulfed the kneeling figure and burnt it to ash.

On that bleak December morning the cry was taken up... FIRE! FIRE!

Captain Nicholas T. Shaw was awakened by the shouting voices and as he sat up in bed he almost missed the envelope that fell off the covers where it had been placed there hours before. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he absently collected the envelope and placed it on his pillow before dressing hurriedly and racing off to help with containing the fire. When he reached the pyre Nick knew this was no accident. One set of footprints lead unerringly to the site of the conflagration and none returned. He made sure no one contaminated the scene, so that the police could investigate this tragedy as untainted as possible.

"Everyone back to the dorms, Sergeant I want a head count ASAP we need to know if anyone is missing... just in case." Nicholas ordered feeling a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I've got a bad feeling about this..."

Nick headed back to his dorm room and scooped up the letter and examined it. The elegant hand writing on the front identified the author immediately, it was William. He turned over the envelope and as if to remove any doubt was the wax seal with the fleur-de-lis surrounded by seven stars pressed into the wax the color of dried blood. He sat down on his bunk and pondered if he should open the letter or not. This was potentially evidence but this note was meant for him after all. With trembling hands he broke the wax seal and lifted the folded parchment from the envelope. For all of William's intelligence and love of computer science there was a part of him lost in the past. Nick wiped the tears from his eyes and read the letter.

Dearest Nicholas, I am glad we were friends. You protected me when it seemed like the entire world had turned its back on me. When others pointed and stared at the 'autistic' kid you were a true and loyal friend. You are my hero! I was hoping to stand with you and our friends at graduation but sadly that is not to be. My father phoned and informed me that he had pulled strings and even though my handicap would have normally kept me out of the regular work force he landed me a job with the government, the NSA to be exact. Me work for the feds I don't think so. All I wanted was to go home, see my family and work on the better computer. I have taken the liberty of moving my personal belongings and our pet project to your locker, I hope you don't mind. You will also find my ring beneath your pillow; please do me the honor of wearing it in memory of our friendship. Who knows we might meet again in another life? Your friend CPL William Bell. P.S. This letter will self destruct in thirty seconds I hope.

With a sudden whoosh of white flame the parchment was ash in his hands. Nick drew back at the suddenness of the eruption of cold fire. He shook his head and smiled a gentle smile for his friend who despite all his adversity had lived and died on his own terms. He would miss William, a lot but knew without a shadow of a doubt he was in a better place than this. Nick reached under his pillow and retrieved the signet ring that lay there and held it in the palm of his hand. It was a thing of beauty and craftsmanship, how did William describe it again... oh yes old world quality. The dull gray metal was fashioned with love and great pride, the top was flat and still held a little of the wax that William had used to seal his letter with. Absently he scraped the last of the residue away and slowly slipped the ring onto his finger. It was a good fit and comforting somehow. While he wore the ring William wasn't really gone, not entirely.

The counselor sat behind her desk and perused Nick's profile while she absently chewed on the non-business end of her pen. She raised her head and gave him a wan smile and paused for a long moment before speaking.

"Nicholas... how well did you know William?"

"We were very good friends."

"Do you blame yourself for what happened?"

"Not at all, why do you ask?"

"Your file says that the reason for your arrival at the Bastion was due to the death of your mother."

Nick stiffened and the color ran from his face.

"I'm sorry..." the counselor began to apologize but he cut her off.

"Never apologize... it's a sign of weakness. Besides that is ancient history."

"Is it, your reaction seemed a little more than ancient history, tell me what happened and maybe I can help."

"My mom got sick, she died and I lost my fucking mind! I did a lot of stupid things and my dad did what he thought best and sent me here."

"So you don't blame your father for your mom's death?"

She saw his jaw tighten up and his fists clench as he chose his response carefully.

"He couldn't help it if he was gone all the time. He couldn't help it she got sick. He wasn't responsible for my actions after she died."

"Is that what you tell yourself or is that what you believe?"

Nick looked as if he had been slapped and lowered his head as he let her words sink in. What did he believe? Did he blame his father? Mom had asked for him so often and at the end she forgave him. But he hadn't had he? No... deep down he hated that fucker that was always gone on business. Nick felt the tears of anger, loss and bitterness well up and before he could rein it back in... his body shook as he wept. Suddenly he was being held and all the anger and bitterness felt like it was leeched out of him. He did blame himself for her death... and William's. There had to have been something he could have done to protect William from his father... from being sent off to Washington D.C. to work for the government.

"It's all MY fault!!!" Nick's voice cracked as he spat out those terrible words.

"No it's not Nicholas... she got sick... he lost hope... beyond your control..."

Her words were more terrifying than his. Her words drew out the psychic venom in his heart and laid it bare in the undeniable light of truth. He couldn't have prevented it. Even if his father had been there she still would have died. William wanted to die! The burden he had carried all these years was gone... maybe it took Williams death to force him to face the truth about his mother. Another senseless passing that could not have been prevented no matter what Nick had done or not done. When he opened his eyes the counselor was sitting down smiling over at him.

"Better?" she asked.

Nick nodded and reached for the tissues and wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

"Why now... why did it all come out now?" Nick asked.

"You were ready I guess," she smiled again. "I only told you the truth it was up to you to accept or reject it. I am glad you let go of that guilt."

"Me too... I still hate the fact that my dad wasn't there for her. But maybe he and I can work on that after I graduate."

"That's the spirit! Have you thought about what you are going to do after graduation?"

"Yeah... I am going to start my own business."

"Well good for you! What kind of business?"

"Computers..."

"Repairing them... programming them..."

"Oh my friends and I are going to build them."

"That sounds awesome."

"We think so."

Moscow Russia

November 9, 1992

Igor Petranova watched his little girl tug at the wrapping of her birthday present and smiled. She was so tiny and delicate with her pale skin and ginger hair and eyes like chips of emerald. Katrina was his pride and joy above all things in this world and he would do anything to make sure she had everything he didn't have growing up in the ghetto of Moscow. Igor leaned back and stretched his thick muscular frame; even though he was going on sixty years old he could still easily break a man half his age in half with his bare hands. Hands that cradled a gently sleeping child at night before she went to bed a darling little girl. Igor was barely five foot five but his thick salt and pepper hair and square lantern jaw gave him a dignified quality that his long life of dire deeds did not. Life was good and getting better by the day. In the last three years he had a daughter born on the very day the Berlin wall was torn down. His organization, the Iron Rain, had managed to procure much of the military vehicles and weaponry now no longer in use by the defunct Soviet Union. He had managed to consolidate his power base by either eliminating or absorbing his competition into the ever expanding hold he had on profitable business interests. He was a very wealthy and powerful man and nothing seemed likely to change his meteoric rise to power. He couldn't have been more wrong.

"You know," rumbled Igor's bass voice, "when I was a boy my mother used to call me Mishka."

"Little bear how appropriate that you have grown into such a handsome bear of a man my love," Olga replied.

Olga Petranova smiled as she watched her husband and child and felt the warmth of comfort and joy that only a wife and mother can feel. Her world was without limits and safe from the terrors the rest of Russia was facing. She didn't worry about hunger, shelter or clothing all of her needs were met and exceeded by her very successful and generous husband. Of course she didn't hide behind illusions of whom or what he was but as long as things remained as they were she didn't care. With a shrill scream of joy Katarina tore open her gift at last and dragged the doll from its cardboard confines. The tiny redhead child pulled the toy to her and squealed with glee and rocked her baby as if it was her bedtime.

It was the sound of gunfire that destroyed the moment and Igor Petranova rose to his feet and with a single gesture sealed his fate and saved his family at the same moment.

"Go," he said as he lifted the Dragunov sniper rifle to a ready position. "I will join you when I can... if I can..."

He thumbed the weapon from single shot to full auto as Olga scooped Katarina into her arms and headed for the hidden door that led down and out of the mansion. Olga depressed the hidden catch and the door swung inward and she was in and closing the door even as the double doors to the living room was being assaulted. Click! Buzz! The harsh yellow emergency lights came on and Olga set Katarina down long enough to slip on a winter coat and sling the backpack, set aside for just this emergency, over her shoulder. She bundled her daughter in a warm blanket and off she went down the spiral staircase to the subbasement and out the escaped tunnel the previous owner had, had built during the height of the cold war. Within two hours she was leaving the land of her birth behind forever.

Lyon France

January 1993

Olga Petranova sat in the office of the Secretary General of INTERPOL's office sipping strong coffee and awaiting his response to the documents she had presented to him. Raymond Kendall was in a few words a stern grandfatherly figure whose sharp mind and dogged determination for justice had allowed him to be in this seat of authority for the eleven years since his first election to this post. His lined face showed the deep thinker who found himself in a position to crush an organization that had risen to power during the cold war era and now that chaos reigned in what was the Soviet Bloc thrived and grew with each passing day.

"Mrs. Petranova," his British accent had a strangely soothing quality, "if these files are accurate we can shut down your husband's organization overnight. But I must be skeptical as to your motives... why are you here?"

"Secretary General..." she began but he waved off the honorific, "very well, Mr. Kendall my husband was murdered by the very men he brought up from the slums of Moscow and that betrayal will be repaid in full."

"What do you want in return for these files and your testimony?"

"Testimony? Why is it necessary for me to testify?"

"To secure the validity of these files and to identify the members of the Iron Rain so there can be no doubt whatsoever."

"I want a new life for myself and my daughter; a life where we do not want for anything if you understand me?"

"I think we can come to an understanding."

Arkham Massachusetts

July 1995

The two Federal Marshals approached the lovely red brick home done in classic New England federal style. The two story structure was situated in a nice quiet neighborhood and was the perfect safe house for the witness and her young daughter. The Senior Marshal, Thomas Black, knocked on the front door and absently adjusted his tie trying to exude an air of confidence and serenity that escaped him utterly. The other Marshal, Pamela Caldwell, shook her head slightly and knew he was smitten with the lovely Russian widow. Pam suspected that he might have crossed a certain line but said nothing as long as it didn't put the family in jeopardy.

The door opened and Olga Petranova, now Petra Ivanovo gestured for them to enter. They were greeted by a blast of cool air and the sounds of the five year old racing around within squealing as she chased her puppy. The three adults sat in the living room and spoke in hushed tones.

"We are finally moved in I can't wait to be just one of the neighbors," Olga said watching Katrina race around with childlike bliss and ignorance of all that has befallen them so far.

"We have cleared everyone on this street," Thomas began, "and we will continue to monitor as people move in and out. Just make sure before you make friends outside of this street you allow us to check backgrounds and make sure you are safe."

"Thank you Thomas, that makes me feel at ease knowing I have two guardian angels looking out for us."

"Petra," Pamela addressed her with her new identity, "just remember to keep your new name and persona in the front of your mind at all times. It gets easier with time but the first few years are the hardest."

"I have been standing in front of the mirror practicing saying my name over and over I think it will sink in eventually. I think in the long run it is going to be hardest on Katrina. Having to wait to make friends at school until they are checked out will be difficult for her. But we have to do whatever it takes to remain safe."

"Well," Marshal Thomas rose to his feet, "you have both our contact numbers if you need anything. I think the sooner we are out of your home the quicker your new life can officially begin."

"You are right of course," the pain in her voice screamed volumes to Pamela and knew that this was more than just a status update this was Thomas saying goodbye.

November 2008

Eighteen year old and college freshman Katrina Ivanovo waited by the phone as so many girls do at one time or another. But instead of waiting for a boy she liked to call her she was waiting for a phone call of a entirely different nature.

"Damn it... he said he would call by five o'clock and its five fifteen!" Kat paced in her bedroom wearing a path in the deep pile carpet with her unceasing movement.

RING!! The phone never had the chance to ring a second time as Kat pounced and snatched up the receiver.

"Hello? Thomas! Tell me the good news... uh huh... uh huh... YEAH! Fantastic! Thanks for calling." Click.

Kat's clothing went flying as she picked out her naughtiest outfit she could put together. She slid on the white silk top without a bra the better to show off her assets. She left the top three buttons undone giving a healthy view of her ample cleavage. The short black skirt clung to her bare ass like a second skin and barely covered the necessities when she sat down. The stiletto heels were the last touch as she looked at herself in the full length mirror she mused, 'how could any man resist this?' She slunk down the front stairs but the clack-clack of the heels gave her away.

"Where are you going dressed like THAT?" Petra called out to her daughter from the living room.

"I am going to see the first guy that has passed a background check in since I turned eighteen," Kat said the desperation and hunger in her voice evident.

"Are you trying to scream slut or just poor white trash?"

"I am trying to scream 'fuck me all night long' I need some attention mom."

"Honey, if you want to have him eating out of your hand cover up and let his imagination drive him crazy. You have curves in all the right places and he knows that. Let him earn what you have to offer."

"Sigh... you're right as ever. Can you help me pick out something less slutty?"

"I have just the outfit... the same one I wore when I met your dad."

"He's not dad yet you guys are only engaged."

"It's only a matter of time."

"Don't you think you are rushing this I mean his first wife is barely cold and in the ground?"

"You're not the only one who has been waiting for the right guy."

"Touché," Kat said turning and heading upstairs to raid her mother's closet.

The 1968 Shelby mustang rolled up to the house of one Marcus Kelly, a popular student at Miskatonic University and a member of the fraternity Omega Nu Epsilon. He was sitting on his front porch when Kat drove up and his jaw dropped as the ebony muscle car came to a stop. The sophomore didn't usually date girls as young as Kat but she had made it a mission to get and keep his attention. The black velvet dress she wore clung to her body like a second skin and made his pulse quicken and his mouth become dry all of a sudden.

"Is that yours...?" Marcus asked as Kat slipped from the driver's side.

"Yep... a gift for my birthday," She said crossing the distance in a stride that showed off her long legs and by the expression on his face mom was dead on about the little black dress. "Wanna drive it while I blow you?"

"Damn girl! You don't pull any punches do you?"

"Why should I? If a guy likes a girl and wants to fuck her it's obvious so why can't a girl be just as open about her carnal desires and not come off as a slut?"

"I couldn't agree more," Marcus moaned as she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a mind blowing kiss.

"You don't think I'm a slut do you?" Kat said after breaking the kiss abruptly.

"No... more a force of nature..." he gasped.

"I like that; well this force of nature wants to feel that cock of yours in a few different places tonight... you up to it?"

"You bet and you won't be disappointed."

"Good," she said nibbling his ear, "now how about you take down the top and let's see what happens."

Marcus' fingers were deep in Kat's auburn locks making a gentle fist as he pumped her head up and down on his erection. She was really digging giving him road head and he was close to blowing his load and then after a movie they would go back to her place to fuck. Life was good!

"Kat... SSSSS your mouth feels so damn good around my dick!" Marcus hissed as she began to slowly deep throat him.