Double Jeopardy

A James Everhard Adventure

by Wayne Wallace

 

Scene 1

            James  Everhard and Chief of Detectives (Retired) Bill Chaple sat at the big mahogany bar at Rick’s Café American’, a haven for fictional characters, both famous and imfamous.  Rick himself was behind the bar tonight.  No replacement had been found as yet for Marshal, the dear departed barkeep.  A few of the regulars were scattered around the bar, but all in all, the place was pretty empty.  “Where do you suppose everybody is?” Everhard asked his partner in adventure.  “Hell, James, it’s Christmas!  Normal people are at home with their families!.”  The retired lawman said flatly as he sipped his scotch.  James thought about his beautiful ex-wife, Dona Hamptonsworth.  He wondered with whom she was spending the holidays?  Then, as if on cue, the lovely Donna Vadelle shouted, “Merry Christmas everybody, see you all next year!”  As she clung tightly to the arm of her new main squeeze, Bud Magnum, and headed out Rick’s front door, headed to, a no doubt, more relaxed setting.  “Bah, fricking humbug!”  Everhard shouted back as the couple left the bar.  Everhard drained his Rusty Nail.

“They’re headed to Florida to spend New Years on the beach.” Rick told the duo.  “Ain’t love grand!”  Chaple remarked sarcastically.  Everhard mentally reflected on his most recent adventure, a horrifying battle that started on a beach, with a flaming helicopter crash, and turned into a war with big time drug dealers in South America.  “I think I’ll pass on the beach for a while,” Everhard stated, “But I’d sure like some sort of action, somewhere!”  Just then, the front door of Rick’s opened and two very lovely ladies strolled into the bar.  The two ladies were not only lovely but they were dressed exactly alike in stunning evening dresses.  In fact, they were identical twins!  As the dazzling duo approached the bar, both Chaple and Everhard slid off their barstools and onto their feet.  “Good evening ladies,” Everhard said warmly, “This establishment is not used to such a double dose of beauty. Won’t you please join my friend and I for a drink?”  The first twin smiled up at Everhard (because she was less than five feet tall) and said, “Why thank you, we’d be honored.”  As he watched the second twin take a seat next to him, Chaple was reminded of a television commercial he had seen a hundred times, where youthful Coors drinkers sang praises to a bikini wearing set of “Twins.”  “Hello, my name is Bill.  Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple, retired”.  Bill told twin #2.  “Hi, I’m Sharon.  Sharon Romberg”, the lovely brunette said, flashing a lovely smile.  Meanwhile, Everhard’s legendary charm, was kicked into second gear by the appearance of the gorgeous twins.  “I am utterly amazed that not only has one of the world’s most beautiful women walked into this bar, and hence, into my life, but two of the most beautiful women I have ever seen!  What are the odds of such an amazing happening?!” Everhard told twin #1.  “My name is Everhard, James Everhard, at your service”.  Everhard said, as he took twin #1’s hand, bowed and gently kissed it.  “Good evening Mr. Everhard, I’ve heard a great deal about you,” she told him.  “All good I hope”,  Everhard replied.  “Yes, in fact, you are a bit of a legend where I come from,” twin #1 laughed and raised an eyebrow in a sly, knowing look.  She took Everhard’s arm and he helped her to a seat in a corner booth.  The couple was joined by Chaple and twin #2.  “My name is Karen Romberg,” twin#1 told Everhard.  Rick showed up with a round of drinks for the couples as the “getting acquainted” phase of the evening was launched.  Small talk ensued over drinks and James and Bill learned that the twins were from Tulsa, Oklahoma.  They were in town to attend a gala Christmas benefit for charity, and had stopped in at Rick’s for a drink before attending the gala event.  After two or three drinks, The Romberg twins had invited James and Bill to attend the gala with them.  The duo gladly accepted the invitation and because both of them kept tuxedoes in Rick’s back room, changing for the affair was accomplished quickly and efficiently.  The foursome left the bar, arm in arm, into the cold December night headed for a gala holiday event.

 

Scene 2

            Before they left the bar, Everhard made a call on his cell phone and just as the quartet did leave Rick’s, a long, sleek, stretch Limo pulled up to the curb.  The driver, Johnny Carino, a good friend of Everhard’s, jumped out and opened the door for the couples. Inside, recessed lighting revealed black leather and pure luxury.  Everhard poured a round of drinks for everyone as the limo made its way silently through the sparse traffic.  They toasted the holiday season, and laughed at Chaple’s jokes, even though the jokes were very old, he called them “classics.”  They were also a bit ribald for a first date, Everhard thought, but remained mum.  The twins laughed politely and did not seem to be even the slightest bit offended, so Everhard let it go.  Twenty minutes later, the limo pulled up to the Grand Hotel Ballroom, where the gala event was being held, and the driver again opened the limo door for the couples.

            Inside the plush ballroom, dozens of formally attired, couples milled around, networking, making small talk and sipping champagne.  Everhard stopped a waiter, and from his tray, supplied the rest of the foursome with sparkling gold flutes of the bubbly liquid.  “Well, Mr. Everhard, one might think that you were trying to take advantage of me by getting me drunk,” Karen said laughingly, as she accepted the champagne.  “On the contrary Ms.Romberg, If I were to take advantage of you, as you so quaintly put it, I would want all of our senses at their keenest,  so that both of us could remember the occasion as a pleasurable exchange of emotions, and not as an event ultimately the result of the grapes.” Everhard told her and kissed her delicate jaw line lightly, just below her right earlobe.  “However, I find that a certain amount of champagne, not in excess, acts as a sort of sensory enhancer.  Don’t you agree my dear?”  James whispered to the devastatingly beautiful twin.  “We shall see my dear James, we shall see.” She answered smiling wickedly.

            The orchestra on stage began to play and Chaple and Sharon Romberg took to the dance floor and began to dance. Despite his rugged exterior, Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple (retired) could make a living as a dance instructor, should times get hard in the crime fighting business.  James and Karen watched the couple elegantly glide around the dance floor.  Everhard wondered when Chaple had found the time to perfect his dance expertise over the years, but the thought quickly diminished as Karen pulled him onto the dance floor.  The two couples danced until the band stopped and the tuxedoed host announced that dinner was served. The two couples made their way to the huge dining room.

            Before the dinner was brought to the tables, the master-of-ceremonies announced the presence of a special guest.  The Sheik Mala Khir of Saudi-Arabia.  A spot light shone on the white robed and turbaned man seated at his table with his entourage of huge body guards and four beautiful women.  The oil-rich sheik had contributed a million dollars cash to the charity fund that was the benefactor of this gala event during his visit to the U.S.  The papers had run front page stories about the millions he was spending on lavish shopping sprees in various large U.S. cities.  He was accompanied on this whirlwind tour of the states by four of his wives.  He was rumored to have over forty beautiful women in his personal harem. According to a story that James had read, written by his old friend and sometimes lover, Sherry at the Times, Sheik Mala Khir was second y world-wide, in personal wealth only to Bill Gates.  “That man has some major capital my friends.” Bill Chaple told his companions at the dinner table.  Throughout dinner, Everhard kept glancing at the oil-rich capitalist, somehow intrigued by him.  The sheik was tall, about 6’4”, James’ height, and the two men weighed about the same as well.  Mala Khir was well built, he obviously worked out.  The Sheik was also well tanned, Everhard guessed that he played tennis or golf.  When he asked Karen what she thought of him, she merely shrugged and said, “Most of the Arabs I have met are full of themselves and crap, in that order.  They also seem to have, in general, a phobia involving the combining of soap and water”.  Everhard laughed at his lovely date’s wit and charm.  Then Everhard noticed something rather unusual.  The Sheik was staring at the Romberg twins from across the room.  This in itself was not unusual, for the twins were truly beautiful women and drew stares from many, many men.  It was the stare itself that alerted Everhard.  It was not a ordinary man’s stare, but the kind of stare a hungry wolf makes at a sheep right before it pounces on it, a predatory stare, accompanied by a knowing twinkle in the eye, too confident, too cock-sure.  Everhard did not like the stare, it caused the small hairs on the back of his neck to rise and tingle, which was never a good sign.  The Sheik summoned his charge’ de affairs, another tall Arab gentleman, and whispered something to him.  The man looked at the twins and then nodded in the affirmative, whispering something back to Sheik Mala Khir.  The assistant then bowed deeply and left hurriedly.  This made Everhard very suspicious.

            After dinner and more dancing, the quartet decided to leave the Grand Hotel and head to Rick’s for a night cap and then, hopefully, the night would make a definite, more romantic turn.  Everhard had almost forgotten about the Sheik’s predatory look, almost, but not completely, when he punched the limo’s number into his cell phone.  The familiar voice of Johnny, the driver answered the call and said, “Be right there boss, I’m parked a block away.”  A few moments later, the long, white limo rounded the corner and pulled up to the Grand Hotel.  The Hotel Doorman opened the limo door and two women entered, followed by Chaple and Everhard.  The limo pulled hurriedly away from the hotel.  Inside the plush vehicle, two Arab men were in the front seat, one was driving and the other held an Uzi machine pistol on the group. Johnny the driver was nowhere to be seen.  The foursome held up their hands.  No one said a word as the limo pulled around a corner onto a dark, street, lined with empty and boarded up tenement buildings.  The limo pulled up next to a dark Mercedes sedan with blacked out windows.  The driver got out, opened the limo door and told the Romberg twins to get out.  Karen shot James a worried look and he tried, as best he could, to give her a reassuring look in return as she and her sister were pushed into the waiting Mercedes.  The man with the Uzi made the fatal mistake of turning his back on Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple for just an instant, but it was enough time for the ex-cop to pull a S&W .38 out of his ankle holster and blow two largish holes into the side of the Arab’s face at close range.  The Mercedes driver tore away from the curb at the sound of the shots and the sedan flew down the dark street, leaving the Arab who had driven their limo standing there stammering and trying to pull a long barreled pistol out of his jacket.  Chaple put two more .38s into his forehead before this feat was accomplished however.

Everhard jumped behind the wheel of the stretch limo, Chapel pulled the bloody body out onto the street and jumped in beside his partner.  Chapel was reloading his .38 revolver as Everhard got the huge car up to speed in pursuit of the Mercedes.  Then Chaple was on his cell to police headquarters.  Moments later, Everhard pulled up to an intersection with 5 different crowded thoroughfares to choose from as a direction to travel, which way had the Mercedes traveled?  There was no sign of it.  Everhard pounded the Limos steering wheel and cursed in frustration.

 

Scene 3

             Late that night at Police Headquarters,  Everhard and Chapel sat in Chief of Detectives Dennis Gagliardo’s office.  Gagliardo was the man who had replaced the retiring Bill Chaple, on Bill’s personal recommendation.  Ordinarily, there was nothing Chief Gagliardo wouldn’t do for Bill.  “Dammit Dennis, just go to the suite at the Hotel California where this fricking Sheik of Arabie is staying, and question his ass.  We know this was his doing, his henchmen pulled it off!” Chapel was telling the new chief, around his smoldering cigar.  “It’s Sheik Mala Khir, Bill, and we can’t just go beat down his door, for no reason.  We have nothing linking him to this abduction!” Chief Gagliardo said firmly, “Perhaps if we had some perps to question rather than a couple of stiffs in the morgue, we’d have more to go on!”  “What about Johnny Carino?”  Everhard argued, “they slit his throat!”  Everhard was referring to his good friend who had driven the limo for them tonight.  “Still doesn’t connect anything to the Sheik!” Garliardo said, “And you bastards better not go bothering the man either,” the chief warned, “Or I’ll haul your asses  in concerning a couple of Arab bodies you’ve been littering our fine city streets with!”

             Chaple and Everhard walked out of Police Headquarters at 1:30 AM.  “Dammit Bill, It seems that the bad guys have all the rights, and we have none!  What’s wrong with this picture?” Everhard asked his friend.  It’s the fricking system Jim.  It’s why I finally retired.  The politics!  Rich and famous, with a license to kill and kidnap.” The retired detective lamented, shaking his head. Everhard looked at the retired cop and said, “I’m not letting the Sheik and his entourage out of my sight.  He’ll slip up and lead us to the twins.  It’s our only hope!” Bill started his Ford Crown Victoria and headed in the direction of the Hotel California.

            On the loading dock at Pier 26, the Asian Princess, a freighter registered to a firm in Stockholm, Sweden was being loaded with its cargo of oilfield equipment.  In one of its cramped cabins, the Romberg twins, Karen and Sharon lay, securely bound and gagged on the steel bunks.  The freighter was scheduled to leave for Casablanca at 2:00 AM, twenty minutes from now.  Outside the cabin door, two cagey Australian crewmembers named Peterson and Gordon peered into the cabin’s port hole at the bound twins.  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Peterson told his the other man.  “When the tug starts pullin’ us out ta’ sea, we’ll pick the lock and go in there and have our way with those lovlies.  They’ll be too busy in the wheel house navigatin’ the bloody harbor to worry about em’.”   The other man, who rarely spoke and was considered crazy by the rest of the crew, just grinned and began to salivate at the thought of getting into the cabin with the helpless girls.

 

Scene 4

            The stout little tugboat hooked up to the Asian Princess’ bowline and began pulling the large freighter out of the harbor.  “Stay alert,” the Captain told the first mate at the wheel, “Navigating this harbor can be very tricky.”  The first mate nodded as he stood at the ship’s wheel and stared out at the black water.

            Peterson worked on the cabin’s rusty door lock with a burglar’s pick and pin, tools of his trade back in Perth.  The lock gave with an audible “click.”  Peterson slowly pulled the metal door open as the overly excited Gordon pushed past him into the cabin, pulling off his suspenders as he went.  Peterson followed the wild man into the dimly lit cabin.  Gordon went immediately to Sharon Romberg, whose eyes were wide with terror.  Her screams were muffled by the gag firmly taped over her mouth.  Gordon laughed a vile, guttural laugh that was more an animalistic grunt than a human laugh and pulled the top of Sharon Romberg’s evening dress down revealing her pale, but rather large, breasts.  Gordon began biting, licking and sucking the beautiful twin’s nipples, like a hungry, nursing, wolf pup.  He made more, guttural, animal sounds.  Sharon Romberg squirmed and twisted to the limits her bound limbs would allow, but it was a futile effort.  The demented Gordon was satisfying his twisted needs; at least for the moment.  Peterson focused his attention on the other twin.  Karen Romberg watched him carefully, trying to anticipate his next move.  Peterson untied the twin’s bound ankles and forced the twins legs apart.  Karen cused vehemantly against her gag. He pulled up her evening dress, revealing a pair of black thong panties.  Peterson then tied each ankle firmly to the corners of the bunk, and began unbuckling his belt. Karen’s eyes grew wide with fear.  “Don’t be scared me lovely.  I’ve just the thing fer ya’ here.”  And violently tore away the black silk panties.  Then there was a flash of something large  and  white. Peterson was lifted to the ceiling of the cabin, his trousers around his ankles and his rapidly shriveling penis flopping wildly in the breeze.  “Heathen Bastards!”  a huge man dressed in all white screamed as he pulled first Peterson and then Gordon out of the cabin and threw the screaming men unceremoniously, headlong overboard into the icy waters, seven stories below.

            The twins stared in shock at the huge man who had saved them.  He was at least 7 feet tall and built like an NFL defensive lineman.  He was dressed in white, billowy pants and shirt and wore a white turban on his head.  He wore a huge, curved sword at his side, sported a thick black beard and he looked like a character out of Ali Babba and the 40 Thieves.  He immediately began unbinding the twins with a gentleness that was totally out of character for his enormous bulk.  After their bindings were removed and the twins were somewhat back to normal, Karen leveled a barrage of questions at the huge man, “Who are you?  Where are we being taken? What is this all about?”  “Your questions will all, soon be answered my mistress.” The man answered in heavily accented English.  “I am most dreadfully sorry that those despicable men disrespected you in such a manner. They now feed the fishes of the Atlantic.   Had I not been delayed in getting my orders to board this ship as your manservant and protector, it would have never taken place.  Please orgive me for not introducing myself.  My name is Poonjab, I am a guard, assigned to the Sheik’s Royal Harem.  I am at your service.”  The huge man told them, bowing deeply.  The twins exchanged amazed looks.

 

Scene 5

            The kind man who had introduced himself as Poonjab, brought the Romberg twins warm water, soap and fresh, clean, wash cloths and towels.  He guarded their door as they freshened up.  The big man brought them fresh clothes in their exact sizes and the two girls changed into them.  After the girls were washed and changed, they called Poonjab back into the small cabin, they needed some answers.

            Poonjab answered their questions.  He was a eunich, as were all the harem guards.  An orphan in India, at the age of twelve, he was sold to the Sheik Mala Khir as a household slave.  When it was discovered that he would be of powerful build, he was castrated and trained as a palace harem guard.  It had long been the tradition of Arab royalty to protect their harems with powerful men who posed no threat to the girls sexually. He had been in this position for 12 years.  The Sheik has four permanent wives, the ones who had traveled with him to America, and currently, 38 concubines.  All of the women in the harem are treated with respect and are given the finest of things.  They are used for the pleasure of the Sheik and his guests.  “Are these women there of their own free will or are they captives as we are?” Sharon demanded.  “A few of them came to the palace willingly, and a few of them were brought there against their wills, but all of them are content and happy there now”. Poonjab answered.   “But how can that be?  They are sexual slaves!” Karen queried.  “True mistress, but the Sheik treats them so well.  They have everything they desire, the best of clothes, food, a life of total luxury”. Poonjab answered dutifully.  “They do not have their freedom.  The ability to come and go freely.  The ability to leave when they wish or the ability to choose whether or not they wish to sleep with someone!” Karen said heatedly.  “Ah, the Western girls in the harem often spoke of such freedoms at first.  It is something that not everyone on this planet is familiar with.  In my country, a woman is considered very privileged to be selected for the Sheik’s harem. Poonjab told her. “Well not in mine!”  Karen stated flatly, “I’m not doing it!” “Mistress, you do not understand.  The Sheik is never told, “no”.  He gets exactly what he wants.  Always”. Poonjab said solemnly.  “Poonjab, you said that the American girls spoke of this freedom at first.  What changed their minds?” Sharon asked.   “Mistress, they realized the futility of resistance.  They are treated so very well, when they cooperate, the problem girls, who refuse to cooperate, are executed.” Poonjab said.  “And, all the girls are given mood enhancement.”  “You mean they keep them drugged?”  Karen asked.  “yes, mistress”. Poonjab answered.  The two girls began to sob.

            Everhard and Chaple sat outside the Hotel California in the black Ford.  Everhard checked his Tag Hauer watch, it was 2:45 AM.   “Do we go up there and pull his ass out of bed, and beat the truth out of him?” Everhard asked his partner.  “You know that will just get us killed or arrested,” Chaple said.  “I don’t have a plan, partner.” Chaple admitted.  Often, when things look darkest, a solution drops right into ones pocket.  And that is exactly what happened to our heroes that cold, winter morning.  Strolling up the street at 2:45 in the morning came none other than the Sheik Mala Khir’s charge de’ affairs, on the arm of Everhard and Chaple’s favorite working girl, the red-head.  “Bingo,” said Everhard.  Chaple was already out of the car.  As the couple walked by, Chaple hit the tall Arab, with his sap.  Everhard and Chaple caught the unconscious man on his way down and put him in the Ford’s back seat.  “Hey, he was gonna be good for a hundred!” the red-head loudly protested.  Everhard slid three folded Ben Franklins down the front of the red-head’s dress and said, “mums the word sweetie, okay?”  “I’ve already forgotten him lover.” The red-head answered as she turned and headed nonchalantly across the street to Rick’s Café American.

            “Take him to my apartment James.  I think I can make him talk to us,” Chaple said as Everhard pulled the car away from the curb.

 

Scene 6

            Everhard and Chaple carried the still unconscious charge de’ affairs up a small flight of stairs to Chaple’s apartment.  Fortunately, there was no one around at 3:00 AM to ask any questions about what they were up to.  Inside, they threw the Arab on the couch.  “Let me get my questioning kit,” Chaple said.  A moment later Chaple returned with a small black bag that looked like a physician’s bag. Chaple rolled up the Arab’s sleeve, and placed a rubber tourniquet around his arm.  “You know James that desperate times require desperate measures.  The methods I use here may not necessarily be considered politically correct in the law enforcement community.” Chaple said.  “Hey, I’m not going to say a thing.” Everhard quipped.  Chapel filled a small syringe with a light green fluid and slowly injected it into a vein in the Arab’s arm.    Moments later, the Arab’s eyes fluttered open.  However, one would not consider him conscious, and his eyes were heavily glazed.  “What is your name, in English please.” Chaple asked the semi-conscious man.  The Arab answered in monotone, “Muhammad Amal Kali.”  “What is your official position?” Chaple asked the man.  “I am the charge de’ affairs for his Excellency Sheik Mala Khir.”  Amal Kali answered.  “Where have the Romberg twins been taken?” Chaple asked, satisfied that the drug had taken full affect.  “The twins have been put aboard a freighter, The Asian Princess.” The Arab answered without hesitation.  “Where is the Asian Princess docking?” Chaple asked.  “Casablanca” was the monotone reply.  “And where will the twins be taken from there?”  Without hesitation the Arab told Chaple that they were to be picked up at Casablanca and flown in one of the Sheik’s private jets to the Sheik’s palace in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.  When asked, the Sheik’s charge de’ affairs told them that strict orders had been given that no one was to lay a hand on the twins and that if they did not arrive at the palace in perfect shape, that heads would roll.  This statement was not a figure of speech to the Sheik, but a true threat.  After a half hour of the Arab answering all of their questions, Chaple gave the Arab another shot that rendered him unconscious again.  The two crime fighters carried him back to the black Ford. 

            Ten minutes later Chaple pulled up to the deserted steps of the local Police precinct.  The retired detective placed a large bag of white powder in the sleeping Arab’s coat pocket and Everhard laid him across the front steps.  Then the duo drove hurriedly away in the direction of the airport.  “What did you plant in the dude’s pocket?” Everhard asked his partner.  “Just a pound of pure cocaine.  A little bit of evidence saved for a special occasion.” Chaple answered chuckling.  I also put a card with the name and address of a well known, big time dealer in his pocket.  They’ll sweat the dude for hours before they even lock his ass up.  He won’t remember a thing that has happened to him tonight.  Sodium Penathol, wonderful stuff.” Chaple chuckled and concentrated on his driving and getting to the hangar where their newly acquired Lear jet stood fueled and ready.

 

Scene 7

            Karen Romberg lay on the hard bunk in the cramped cabin, trying to sleep, without success.  The cabin was lit only by the full moon through the porthole.  She saw Poonjab standing guard at the door, which gave her some relief.  She listened and heard the steady, even breathing of her twin and took comfort in the knowledge that Sharon had finally drifted off, exhausted by the events of this night that turned from a wonderful evening to a dreadful nightmare.  Karen too, was bone tired, but she could not stop thinking about James Everhard. He was so handsome and charming.  Was he dead or alive?  She had heard gunshots after she and Sharon had been forced into the Mercedes.  Had the blue-eyed, handsome, man to whom she had been so attracted, and his friend been killed trying to save her?  She prayed that this was not the case.  Or, was he coming after them now?  She hoped and prayed that this was the case.   But Karen had always been a realist. This was no action-adventure movie.  How on earth could James, or anyone, for that matter, know where she and her sister were?  The entire situation seemed so utterly hopeless.  The Sheik was apparently above international law.  Karen took a stab at rationalization, making the best of a bad situation over which she had no control, had always been her style.  But not this time, she had to plan an escape, but how?  She sighed deeply and fought back more tears. Perhaps life in the harem wouldn’t be that terrible, like Poonjab said, the girls there got everything they wanted, were pampered and were meticulously cared for.  Hell, who was she kidding?  The pampering might happen for a while, but what happened when the Sheik grew tired of them, or they began to age?  She doubted that the Harem had an old age pension plan. She had taken freedom for granted, for granted until it was stolen from her. The freighter gently rocked in the waves as it steamed steadily on to the Sheik’s domain.  “Oh, James.” She whispered as a tear glistened on her cheek.

 

Scene 8

            Flying at barely 1,000 feet over the North Atlantic, Everhard and Chaple kept a sharp eye out for the large freighter, the Asian Princess.  “There she is James,”  Chaple shouted.  Everhard also spotted the ship in the early morning sunlight and moved the Lear jet into a dive towards the rusty freighter.  The white Lear jet bore down on the old ship like a fighter on a strafing target.  When the streaking jet got just above and behind the old freighter, Everhard pulled up on the yoke and brought the jets nose up hard.  The result was a screaming fly over, just feet above the ship’s antennas.   “What the Hell was that!?” the captain of the Asian Princess cursed, and instinctively ducked his head, as the white jet’s engines screamed just feet above them.  In their cramped cabin, the Romberg twins also heard and saw, through the porthole, the dramatic flyover and instinctively knew that Everhard and Chaple were coming for them.  The twins smiled at each other with renewed hope.  

            Everhard climbed quickly again to 20,000 feet, his assigned altitude, and proceeded on course at mach 1 to Casablanca.  He looked over at his partner in the co-pilot’s seat and noticed that Chaple appeared a little green at the gills.   “I need a scotch,” Chaple groaned, “All this air-show, stunt pilot crap has upset my delicate stomach.” With this, the retired detective slipped back to the aircraft’s fully stocked bar and poured himself some breakfast.

            Meanwhile, at Andrews A.F.B., Washington D.C.  the Sheik and his entourage, minus his former charge de’ affairs, who had disgraced the Sheik by being arrested with a large quantity of drugs, boarded his private Boeing 707 for their return flight to Saudi Arabia.  The Sheik waved at reporters and well wishers as he prepared to leave American soil.  “Stupid peasants”, he told one of his wives, ”Today they cheer me.  They do not realize that one day, in the not too distant future, they will all be my slaves!”  The wives laughed with their master and found their seats in the jets plush interior.

 

Scene 9

            At the dock in Casablanca, Everhard and Chaple watched as the tug pulled The Asian Princess in to the wharf.  The plan was for Everhard to board the ship before anyone was able to disembark, locate the twins and free them if possible.  Chaple would wait at the gangplank and stop their captors, should Everhard’s efforts fail.

            When the ancient, rusty, freighter lay in its berth, against the pier, Everhard climbed the bowline, up seven stories, and onto the deck.  He immediately saw a row of cabins to his left and began his search.  The first several he checked were empty.  As he opened the next door, he surprised a crewman who was packing his bags, apparently for departure.  The crewman turned and faced Everhard with a wicked smile, as if looking forward to a fight.  The man lunged at Everhard.  He was a large man with finely toned, muscular arms and a muscular neck, but he was slow.  Everhard sidestepped him easily and slammed the man’s head against the steel bulkhead savagely.  A nasty gash opened up on the crewman’s forehead and blood flowed down across his face.  The crewman just laughed at his injury and came after Everhard again, with renewed enthusiasm.  The large sailor bear hugged Everhard and lifted him off the ground, slamming his back against the steel bulkhead.  The wind was knocked out of Everhard, and he thought he might pass out. However he was able to hook his fingers into the bloody gash in the sailor’s head and he bean to rip the flesh open further.  The sailor screamed and dropped Everhard like a hot rock.  The sailor began clawing at his torn flesh and angrily screaming.  Everhard took advantage of the opening and kicked the sailor as hard as he could in the groin.  If the sailor’s testicles had been an NFL football, Everhard probably would have broken the all-time record for the longest field goal ever booted, with this beauty.  The sailor’s breath flew out of his lungs; he grabbed his wounded testicles with both hands, and fell face first to the steel deck, unconscious.  Everhard stumbled out of the cabin, shaken, but immediately renewing his search for the twins.  That was when he saw them, walking towards the gangplank being followed by perhaps the biggest man Everhard had ever seen.

            Not thrilled about going toe-to-toe with this giant so soon after a really viscous fight, Everhard searched for a weapon of some sort to even the odds.  He spied a fire axe clamped to the bulkhead, and grabbed it.  One side of the axe was the sharp, business end, while the other was heavy and blunt.  Everhard hit the huge man dressed in white, hard, with the blunt end of the axe.  There was a resounding crack, which reminded Everhard of spring baseball practice as hardwood made sharp contact with baseballs.  But the huge man did not even go down.  Instead, he grunted, rubbed the back of his huge head, then whirled around and faced Everhard and as quick as a lightning bolt, snatched the axe from Everhard’s hand and flung it overboard.  He then struck the astonished Everhard full in the face with his huge right fist.  Everything went black and Everhard fell unconscious to the deck.

            Seconds later, Chaple saw the twins being followed down the gangplank by the huge Eunuch.  Chaple put is hand in his coat pocket and grasped the S&W .38.  As the twins and the huge man came close, Chaple moved in and stuck the .38 in the Eunuch’s ribs.  “Hold it right there, Aladdin.  The girls are coming with me.” The words had not completely cleared the detective’s lips before the huge man, with seemingly the speed of light, knocked the gun from Chaple’s hand and the detective watched as it splashed into the harbor.  Then, just as quickly, the Eunuch drove his huge right fist into Chaple’s solar plexus, forcing the ever-present cigar to fly from his lips and sent the retired lawman to the ground, panting for breath.  But Chaple was not yet done; he slowly came to his feet, tried to focus his vision and then, in desperation,  kicked the huge man right in the groin.  The sensation that Chaple felt in his foot was not one of foot bone connecting with vulnerable, super-sensitive, testicles, but that of having kicked an anvil with all his might.  The Harem Guard merely laughed and punched Chaple in the nose, breaking it and sending the former chief to the ground, for the count.

            Twenty minutes later, Everhard, his left eye black, blue and swollen completely shut helped Chaple, his nose obviously broken and bleeding profusely, limp painfully into a Casablanca emergency clinic.  Neither of the men had seen the huge, harem guard and the twins leave the harbor, or had any idea where they had gone.

 

Scene 10

            The doctors at the Casablanca Emergency Clinic patched up the two crime fighters.  Everhard was sporting just a black eye, swollen shut, no optical damage or fracture.  Chaple, on the other hand, had a broken nose, that the medical staff set, and taped securely, and two broken toes and a badly bruised foot for which they dispensed some pain medication and advice, “stay out of Casablanca’s bars”. The two promised to do just that and took a taxi to the airport.  Everhard filed a flight plan for Riyadh, Saudi Arabia and was warned sternly not to enter Iraqi air space, as this was an International “No-fly zone.”  Everhard decided on a route flying over the Mediterranean, and then the Red Sea, avoiding as much land mass as possible.  This route would bring them in from the West, flying in over the Suez Canal.  After fueling and servicing, the Lear was ready for flight.  Everhard went through his pre-flight checklist.  Chaple, sipped his pre-flight scotch.

            After they were airborne, Chaple went to the securely locked and steel reinforced armaments locker.   Chaple removed his sawed off Mossburg 12 gauge shotgun.  He loaded the specially machined magazine with twelve shells, first .00 buckshot, followed by a 12 gauge slug and alternated the deadly ammo thusly to its capacity.  He chambered a shell and set the safety.  Next he removed two, new Glock 9 millimeter, model 18, fully automatic pistols with 33 round clips.  One was for him, the other for Everhard.  He slid four of the curved and loaded, large capacity, magazines into holders on his web belt, under his coat.  Next, he slid a wicked looking Marine Kabar, survival knife into the sheath in his right boot, and placed another snub-nosed .38 police special revolver, loaded with hollow-point ammo, into his left side ankle holster.  Chaple vowed never to take another beating like the one he received in Casablanca.  He relocked the armaments locker as he felt the plane bank, and Everhard begin their decent to Riyahd and moved to a padded captain’s chair, where he buckled his seat belt and calmly awaited arrival in the Sheik’s home city.

 

Scene 11     

            Twenty minutes after landing at Riyadh International Airport, Everhard and Chaple, looking like the walking wounded, barreled down dusty, desert, roads towards the Palace of Sheik Mala Khir in their rented Land Rover.  They were stopped at the gate of the Palace by a guard who carried an AK47 assault rifle.  As the guard approached the car, Chaple placed one round between his eyes with the Glock.  “Jesus, Chief, was that necessary?” Everhard asked as he entered the compound in the Land Rover.  “Didn’t want him notifying anyone else by radio, we need surprise on our side.” Chaple answered around the smoldering cigar butt.  The Land Rover skidded to a stop and the two men barreled out.  Everhard headed up the side stairs, his Glock machine pistol at the ready.  Chaple rushed the front door.

            At the top of the side stairs, Everhard encountered another guard, toting an AK47 and wearing a radio transmitter/receiver on his shoulder.  Everhard took a lesson from his partner and dropped him with one silenced round to the head from the Glock.  Everhard moved silently down the upstairs hallway, looking for the rooms where the Sheik’s harem was housed.  Inside the front door, Chaple surprised a guard and silently and efficiently, slit his throat with the Marine Kabar.  Upstairs, Everhard heard someone coming out of one of the doors into the hallway and backed silently against the wall, Glock raised and ready to fire.  The face that appeared was that of a beautiful Arab woman coming out of the doorway.  She turned left, away from Everhard, and walked briskly down the hallway.  Everhard silently followed the woman.  The beautiful Arab woman wore an outfit that Everhard remembered as one very much like the one worn by Barbara Eden of the “I Dream of Jeannie” television series.  The major difference was that this sheer top showed a whole lot more bare breast than 70s television would have ever allowed Ms. Eden to display.  The beautiful Arab girl turned right at the next corridor and walked past a huge Eunuch Harem guard into another room.  Everhard peered around the corner at the guard.  It was not the same guard who had pummeled he and Chaple onboard the Asian Princess, but he was every bit as powerfully built.  Everhard planned his assault. 

            The Harem guard who guarded the Harem entrance stared curiously at the bright copper bullet that rolled across the floor towards his feet.  He stared down at it.  In an instant, Everhard was around the corner and pumping silenced shells into the Eunuch.  He fell like a load of bricks.  Everhard kicked in the door to the harem and burst into the room, dozens of scantily clad women, shrieked their alarm at the bold intrusion.  Across the room, Everhard saw Karen and Sharon Romberg wearing the sheer Harem costumes.  The twins instinctively ran towards James.  Karen hugged his neck and kissed him as Everhard efficiently dropped two more guards with silenced rounds.  “Come dear, I’ve a plane waiting.” Everhard told Karen.  “Room for any more?”  Karen asked.  “A few.” Everhard answered.  “Any of you who are here against your wills and who wish  to escape, follow us!”  Karen told the women.  Six women, all apparently westerners, followed the twins and their armed liberator out the door.   As they approached the stairwell, two Arab guards with assault rifles were coming up the stairs.  They were surprised, but managed to level their rifles at the escaping group heading their way.  “Stop, or we will shoot you!” the first guard shouted in heavily accented English.  Everhard stopped and raised his pistol above his head.  But before any more instructions could be made, a barrage of bullets cut the two guards down.  At the foot of the stairs, Chaple, with his Glock smoking, yelled, “Cummon’ we ain’t got all afternoon for sight seeing!”  Everhard and his entourage ran down the plush staircase and piled into the waiting Land Rover.  Everhard jumped in behind the wheel, started the car, and tore out the front gate. 

            Everhard flew across the desert at nearly 90 mph.  He was racing the car’s heat indicator needle which was moving past 200 degrees and was steadily rising.  Behind the heavily loaded Land Rover, a jeep carrying a Harem guard and three palace guards was in hot pursuit.  AK47 rounds whistled over and beside the racing, and overheating Land Rover.  The jeep and its angry occupants slowly began to gain on the struggling Land Rover.  As they pulled along side the steaming, hissing Land Rover, a man chewing on a cigar and smiling a strange looking smile, stuck a wicked looking shotgun out the Rover’s window and KABOOM, KABOOM !  Put two rounds into the Jeep’s engine.  There was a secondary explosion as the Jeep’s engine blew itself apart and the force of the blow forced the Jeep off of the road and it crashed into a ditch at high speed, hurling the surprised passengers into the air above the ruined Jeep.

            At the airport, Everhard skidded to a stop next to the Lear in the steaming, knocking Land Rover and its passengers scurried aboard the white jet.  Everhard scrambled aboard and turned on the ignition switches.  The twin turbine engines whined to life.  Everyone found a seat and buckled in as Everhard slowly taxied out onto the runway.  Chaple stood guard just inside the plane’s door, just in case.

            Moments later, they left the runway, flaps full down for maximum lift as a Jeep with Palace guards cursing and firing, pulled into view.  “So long you Sons of Allah.” Everhard said as he saluted them a one finger salute through the cockpit.  A few minutes after that, the pilot and passengers were safely airborne.

 

Scene 12        

            As Everhard leveled off at 25,000 feet, flying due north from Riyadh, Everhard began to calculate his heading to go west towards the Mediterranean.  Suddenly, a voice crackled through the static into Everhard’s headset.  “I am on your tail American meddler and I will laugh and praise Allah as I blow your aircraft apart and watch it fall to the ground.”  It had to be the Sheik Mala Khir himself,  thought Everhard as he watched the ship’s radar screen.  There it was, approximately 10 miles behind him and closing fast, a rapidly approaching military aircraft.  When the Sheik Mala Khir learned of the assault and kidnapping of part of his harem by two bold Americans from a dying palace guard, he immediately headed to the airport where his pride and joy awaited, fueled and ready for flight, a Russian Mig-29, fully armed and kept flight ready for the Sheik, himself an Iraqui trained fighter pilot, purchased from Sadam himself by the Sheik a year ago. 

Everhard watched the radar as the Sheik launched an air-to-air missile.  The smaller blip came closer and closer, and Everhard fought the urge to bank and run now.  With this smaller, slower, aircraft he would have to evade at the last possible second in order to survive.  As the small blip nearly disappeared into the blip that represented the Lear, Everhard banked sharply to the right, and watched the rocket streak by on his left.  Everhard pushed the throttles to their stop and brought the Lear’s flight back to a northerly heading. As he made this correction, the Sheik streaked by his aircraft in the Mig at Mach 2.  Everhard watched as the Mig, afterburners ignited, banked to the left, apparently for another shot at the Lear.  Everhard could only watch from his unarmed and out matched aircraft and pray that he could continue to evade his predator.

The passengers, securely strapped into their seats, rolled and dipped as with the small jet as the Lear attempted to out maneuver the big Mig.  The Sheik fired another missile and this time, Everhard went into a sharp dive at the last possible second, barely evading the super sonic rocket.  One hundred air miles away, circling Baghdad, a, AWACs radar plane saw the Mig launching its missles at a smaller, slower aircraft and scrambled a pair of U.S. M-16s to investigate.  As the Sheik banked for yet another turn, and yet another assault on the outmatched aircraft, A different voice crackled in Everhard’s earphones.  “Civilian Lear Jet, this is Captain Luke Miller, United States Air Force.  May I be of any assistance sir?”  The Texas twang in Captain Miller’s voice never sounded so sweet to Everhard.  Everhard keyed his mike, “Yes, this is James Everhard, American civilian pilot, this crazy son-of-a-bitch in the Mig is firing on me.  I am on a business flight carrying American businessmen.  I’m afraid we won’t survive this asshole’s next shot.”    “Thank you sir, we will intervene,” the captain replied as he fired a minuteman missle at the Iraqi marked Mig-29.  Seconds later, the Mig exploded in an orange ball of flame. The two M-16s did a courtesy fly by and saluted the civilian pilot.  “Nice flying Mr. Everhard.  Do you require any further assistance?”  Captain Miller asked.  Everhard keyed his mike, “No thank you Captain, and thank you for the help.”  The Captain replied with “You are approximately 60 miles into Iraqi airspace and hence in an International “no-fly zone.” Change headings to .026 and proceed there towards the Med.  Have a good day sir!”  “Will do Captain, and thank you again.”  Everhard sighed a deep sigh of relief and made the heading change.  Karen Romberg who had taken the co-pilot’s seat next to Everhard when they took off, was just finishing up her business in an air sick bag after the wildest airplane ride she had ever experienced.  “Where’d you learn to fly like that James?” the beautiful twin inquired.  “U.S.  Navy my love.” was his short but sweet answer

 

Scene 13     

            In the plush passenger compartment of the Lear, the six girls who had fled the Sheik’s Harem began to talk excitedly about the prospect of returning home.  They were from virtually every corner of the United States.  Marie, a 19 year old from Butte, Montana had been abducted by the Sheik’s operatives when she was 14.  Authorities and her parents searched for her for years before they finally gave up hope and accepted the fact that she was probably dead.  Nikki, a 20 year old from Wisconsin, had suffered a similar fate, her picture had appeared in newspapers, on the “lost” wall at Wal-Mart, on milk cartons, and her parents too had long ago given up hope of ever seeing her again.  Sharon Romberg, now cuddled up next to Bill Chaple, listened intently to each girl’s story as the jet cruised along its course back to the United States.  The mood was calm and even a bit festive as the girls anticipated being “home” again soon.

            In the plush bedroom compartment of the Lear Jet, Poonjab listened against the door.  He had been hiding in the rear compartment since he first saw Everhard and Chaple land at the Riydah Airport.  He had guessed that the two would attempt some sort of rescue, so he had lied in wait for them all this time.  He felt that now was finally the time to end the lives from the two men and return his Master’s property to the Castle.  He slowly opened the cabin door and emerged from the rear compartment.  He was behind Chaple who was dozing in a plush captain’s chair.  Before any of the girls could even scream, the lightning fast big man grabbed Chaple around the neck and pulled him out of the chair, hoisting him up towards the top of the aircraft.  Chaple spit out his cigar and began to choke in the viselike grip of the Eunuch.  As his feet dangled and kicked near the face of Sharon Romberg, she spied the S&W .38 Police Special in Chaple’s ankle holster.  With a bit of surprising speed of her own, the twin jerked the pistol out of its holster and without hesitation, emptied it into the huge Eunuch’s chest.  The grimacing and mortally wounded Eunuch slowly relaxed his grip on Chaple’s throat and slumped to the floor of the aircraft.  Everhard put the Lear on auto-pilot and hurried back to the passenger compartment when he heard the shots.  When he got to the huddled group, he saw a blue-faced, but recovering  Chaple on his knees, coughing.   Poonjab was lying dead in a pool of blood and Sharon Romberg holding a smoking .38.  “Well, looks like some very interesting party games, but I must caution you about putting bullets through the pressurized cabin of this aircraft.  It would make for some very nasty surprises.” Everhard warned.  “Not to worry Jim”. Chaple croaked, “Sharon put six slugs into the big fellow’s heart.  No exiting slugs to puncture this tin can.”  Everhard returned to the cabin wondering what else could possibly happen to the group.  Chaple and the girls wrapped the Harem guard in a tarp and drug his body to the cargo hold.

            Hours later, as the Lear approached the Eastern coast of the United States, Everhard, fatigued by the hours of monotonous flying, and the over 72 hours he had spent on the chase without sleep, dropped off, fast asleep.  The Lear, left to its own devices, and not placed on auto pilot, slowly began to lose altitude.  Karen Romberg, sleeping soundly in the co-pilot’s seat, sensed the gradual descent and began to awaken, stretching her aching limbs.  Karen sleepily gazed out the cockpit’s windshield and watched as the Lear broke through a cloud bank and saw the ocean below.  It took her a moment or two to realize that the ocean was rapidly getting closer and closer.  In a panic, she looked over at Everhard.  Everhard was out cold and snoring audibly.  “James, James, wake up!” Karen screamed as the jet raced towards the white capping surf.

 

Scene 14      

            Karen’s screams and shoulder shaking woke Everhard from his sound sleep.  It took only an instant for the detective to see that he had put everyone aboard the plane lives in Jeopardy when he had nodded off.  Everhard pulled back hard on the yoke and applied full flaps with both feet.  The Lear began to slowly pull out of the dive but Everhard honestly did not know if he had taken evasive action quickly enough.  Slowly, surely, the Lear jet climbed out of the dive.  The evasive action was so close to being “too late” that the white jet’s tail was splashed by ocean’s foamy spray.  “Thank God!” Karen whispered, hugging Everhard’s neck and kissing his beard stubbled cheek.  Everhard climbed back to 20,000 feet and reestablished the course that would have them home within the hour.

            In the passenger compartment, Chaple was on his cell phone talking to police headquarters concerning the rescued harem girls, getting them reunited with family and the small matter of a dead foreign national in their cargo hold.  It took all of the cigar chomping detective’s political pull and negotiating skills to smooth out the many wrinkles in their operation, but after 45 minutes, he turned off his phone and smiled broadly.  “I think we’re okay.” He told Sharon Romberg.  Sharon looked at him, plucked the nasty looking cigar from his mouth and kissed him warmly and deeply.

            After an uneventful landing at their home airport, they were greeted by a limo that would take the rescued harem girls to headquarters for a statement and a debriefing and eventually, to a reunion with their utterly astounded parents.  There was also a Medical Examiner’s Van to pick up Poonjab, and Rick was there in his Rolls to pick up Everhard, Chaple and the Romberg twins.  The Romberg twins were required to make a statement at police headquarters about their abduction, after which Everhard and Chaple took them home.  Karen kissed Everhard warmly and deeply at the front door of her apartment.  “James, I am not presently in the physical shape that I want to be when I formally thank you for risking your life to free my sister and I.  Give me a day to catch up on my sleep and then, let’s have dinner.  I have a wonderful evening planned for us.” Karen said to him.  “As I told you earlier, my love, I want all of our senses at their peak for that meeting.  Until tomorrow night darling.” and Everhard lighly kissed the lovely twin’s cheek as he turned to leave.

            Back at Rick’s Café American, the two crime fighters sat at  the bar, three day growths of beard, wrinkled clothing, blood shot eyes and feeling bone weary as they sipped their scotches and let the tension from this latest adventure flow from their bodies.  “How many miles you think we traveled in the last 80 hours or so Jim?”  Chaple asked wearily.  “We logged 19,500 air miles my friend.  In four days.” Everhard replied in a sleepy monotone.  “I need some sleep.” Chaple groaned as he slid off the barstool to his feet to leave.  “Me too, Chief.”  Everhard replied as he too slid off the stool.  Just then, the front door to Rick’s flew open and in walked Donna Vadelle on the arm of Bud Magnum, both looked tanned and fit and well rested.  “Happy New Year, everyone!” Donna yelled to everyone in the bar, and then walked up to Everhard and Chaple, and said, “You guys are right here where I left you last week!  You look like crap!  You two need to get out of this bar and go somewhere, instead of vegetating on those barstools sipping scotch!  Get some fresh air and sunshine!  It’ll do you both a world of good!”  “Sure, sure Sunshine, Everhard told her wearily, and kissed her tanned cheek.  Going to start right now.” Chaple said, as the two slowly headed out the door of the famous gin joint.

 

END