For Whom the Bell Tolls

She must have cum twice while he was moving up into her and he hadn't actually started fucking her yet. Then he hit bottom, which opened up places inside her womb that had rarely been visited. She shrieked in reaction to that outrageous sensation.

Then she leaned back and put her hands on his knees as she ground her clit into him. That set off more moaning and hyperventilating on both of their parts.

Jordan was watching those huge tits shaking in a dozen different directions as she ground on him. She was making savage groans and cries, like he was killing her. Her eyes were screwed shut and the expression on her face was intense passion. She was so wet that he could feel her juices dripping on his leg.

Then time stopped. She opened her eyes. She focused intently on him. And everything seemed to freeze. Jordan could see the incredible strength, courage and essential wisdom in those eyes; as well as a more important thing.

For the first time in her life Marigold showed a man something that she had always kept locked away in her secret soul.

It was only for ONE special man. And she shared it with Jordan.

It was the true vision of her steadfast loyalty and her absolute commitment to the person she loved. That commitment drove her incredible life-force and it was something that would make her the most devoted and finest companion that a man could ever have.

His deep-set brown eyes were wide open to her and she was reading him with her special intelligence. It let her see the man underneath.

Jordan was kind and gentle to the core of his soul. Yet he was fearless, tough and steadfastly brave.

And Marigold knew in that instant that she was Jordan's woman and he would be her man. It was astonishing really. Marigold had no interest in marriage and hitherto no interest in coupling up with one man.

Yet with absolutely no planning or forethought it had all dropped into place. And the earth unmistakably moved for her.

Jordan couldn't believe what was happening to him. The most beautiful woman in the world was straddling him, writhing her huge red hot boobs across his chest and moaning like a wild animal. Her face was screwed up in a frown of effort and she was whipping her hair back and forth in a frenzy.

Her moaning and cries were frantic with her need. Then she started with, "Ahhh I'm cumming – don't stop – don't stop fucking me... Almost there, YES!! MY GAWD YEEESSSSSS!!"

There was a sudden violent shudder that sent her huge tits flying in different directions. Her eyes rolled totally up in her head and she threw herself against him knocking him flat on his back on the bed.

She lay on top of him shuddering. While her passage was in such a state of agitation that it would have made the whirlpool monster Charybdis jealous.

The sheer sensation set Jordan off in an ecstasy of cumming. And he indeed felt like the earth moved.

They lay there for a long while getting their wits back. Then she rolled off him and lay back on the bed.

He turned toward her, still gasping for breath. She had one arm over her eyes and her huge tits were rising and falling like Atlantic waves during a hurricane. Her big brown nipples were still rigid.

Finally, she moved her arm uncovering her eyes. She looked at him with sheer adoration. She said with a little smile, "Did you feel it this time? Do you understand it now???"

He said, "Yes my love I felt it. And I understand."

And Robert E. Lee Jordan, nowhere man extraordinaire, finally knew what yoked together for life meant. And he knew that there would never be any other woman but Marigold.

They talked about their future for a long time afterward. That was a miracle in-and-of itself since Jordan sincerely believed that expressing feminine things such as feelings was a sign of weakness. But this woman was like an extension of himself.

During that discussion Marigold was holding a lot of her story back. It wasn't that she wanted to be deceitful. But she simply didn't want to reveal the extent of her wealth and power.

She didn't want to lose him. So she was waiting to ensure that they were totally bonded to each other. THEN she would navigate those potentially troubled waters.

And after all – they DID have to save twenty-two million souls before breakfast tomorrow. So the details of their wedding could wait.

They walked through the lobby to the van at exactly 19:45. Marigold had changed into the short white skirt and blue scoop necked sweater he had bought her. She looked like a hot preppie wife going out for an evening of sight-seeing.

That was a sea change from the dirty, bedraggled, mutt that had limped through the same lobby a mere 19 hours earlier.

When they got to the van, Jordan unlocked it and took Buster for his evening constitutional. He filled Buster's dog bowl with food and the water dish with bottled water from the room.

Jordan had given Marigold her tac-gear to change into, while Buster finished his evening meal. It wasn't the same situation as last night but Jordan still thought she would want some privacy as she tried on her new unfamiliar clothes.

But of course – Marigold Wilson was an eternal source of surprises.

The woman who emerged from the van was a Viking Shieldmaiden. She was wearing the all-black mesh light absorbing gear with a tac-belt and a K-Bar stuck in a sheath under her left armpit. She was wearing black assault boots with the pants bloused into them like an airborne trooper. She looked so at ease and lethal that Jordan wondered whether she had done something like that before.

Jordan changed as well and then they sat in the truck and waited. All they could hear was Buster's loud panting in the back.

Fifteen minutes passed and Jordan was starting to get worried. He picked up his phone and dialed Pilar. There was no answer. Now he was very concerned.

He waited fifteen more minutes. He couldn't delay any longer. The birds were inbound and he had to be at the location to manage the op.

He called Bernie. When Bernie answered he said trying to disguise his worry, "We have a problem. Pablo and Pilar have dropped off the face of the earth."

For the first time since Jordan had known him Golz lost it. He said, "I knew it!! They're going to blow this to the Cartel. Can we move this instant? It's our only chance."

Jordan looked at Marigold. She nodded a simple and very determined, "Yes."

Jordan laughed and said, "It's just Mary and me and the dog. The evil doers don't stand a chance!!"

He added, "I'll call you when we get on site."

A half hour later Jordan was lying on a little dirt hill looking down at the abandoned factory that housed the bomb. Marigold was lying beside him with a pair of night binoculars trained on the building.

It was deep twilight. And in their light absorbing outfits with the balaclavas on they were almost invisible against the ground.

She whispered, "There are three men guarding the door. They are all holding some kind of rifle." Abandoned factories don't have armed guards. This was definitely the place.

Jordan was spliced into a satellite communications link with the two incoming helicopters. The Pave Hawk with the Deltas would conduct the strike. The Pave Low would do the heavy lifting. He was vectoring them in to the place where he wanted them to land using the BTID to triangulate the exact spot.

The plan was simple enough. But it would have to be choreographed to the second. The Reaper would eliminate the people standing at the door and the eight-man Delta team would be inside before the shock and awe of the Hellfire strike had subsided.

Then they would secure the bomb. And the MH-53 would fly it out. Done right this would all take less than five minutes.

Jordan muttered, "Alpha" into his headset. He heard a terse "Zulu" and the front of the building erupted in a maelstrom of fire. The three men standing there just vaporized. And the Pave Hawk appeared out of nowhere.

With all of its stealth gear on-board that bird is as close to the legendary "Black Helicopter" as any conspiracy theorist's wildest dream. It had been lurking a few hundred feet above the building and Jordan hadn't even known it was there.

The Deltas bailed out before the Pave Hawk landed and there was the sound of a short firefight inside the building. The MH-53 appeared as that was happening. It hovered 20 feet above the ground.

The Deltas exited the building wheeling a long cylindrical object on a self-propelled dolly. There was a short period while the object was hooked to a cradle that had been lowered from the MH-53. It was drawn up to rest underneath that helicopter and just as quickly as it appeared the Pave Low disappeared.

Mexico City was officially safe from nuclear annihilation.

As that was happening Jordan said, "This is it!! Run for the helicopter!!" And he and Marigold and the dog sprinted down the hill.

Buster, who really hated loud noises beat them by a full fifteen yards.

The Crew Chief pulled Marigold and Buster up and then he reached for Jordan.

Jordan was always a cautious man. So he looked back. He was glad he did. Because there were perhaps 20 men headed in their direction.

Pablo had earned his thirty pieces of silver. The Cartel was coming.

That really didn't bother Jordan. He was one step away from being airlifted out of harm's way.

Then he saw it. And it horrified him.

One of the men was just taking a Russian SA-14 Gremlin out of its transportation case. The Pave Hawk would be a sitting duck for that shoulder filed missile.

And that meant that in the next several seconds the woman he loved was going to die.

Jordan didn't really think about it. He just did what he had to do. He stepped off the landing skid and said in a determined voice, "Toss me a rifle."

One of the Deltas tossed him his Sig CQB. Jordan banged the side of the helicopter and yelled, "Get her out of here."

The Pave Hawk lifted off like a skyrocket. As it did Jordan turned and marched determinedly back up the hill.

The last thing Jordan heard was an agonized shriek of "NO!!"

Jordan had serious business to attend to. He ran several yards away from the rapidly ascending helicopter. As he did he emptied the Sig's clip on full auto.

The man with the SA-14 must have fired. But as he did, a firestorm of 7.62 caliber rounds ripped into him and he crumpled forward. The rocket left the tube and traveled approximately four feet directly into the ground where it exploded, killing everybody around him including Pablo.

Jordan was lying flat on his back at that point. He had been hit by a number of rounds fired by the Cartel's people. And he knew that he was going to die.

But he DID see the Pave Hawk disappear into the night above him. And he knew that she was safe.

Then a feeling of absolute peace and serenity descended on him. And for the first time in his life he was perfectly calm and at ease. Marigold was safe and his life finally had meaning.

Epilogue

Pilar had finally worked her way out of the duct tape. She was free now. And she knew what she had to do.

It was her fault - really. The cabron had gotten behind her as they entered the room and knocked her out with the sap that he always carried.

She had awakened to discover that she was bound naked to a chair with duct tape and had a ball-gag in her mouth.

The fat fucker was sitting in front of her with a triumphant leer on his face.

He said teasingly, "So you were going to stick a knife in my ribs my little puta?"

And he reached out with one hand and gently rolled one of her huge brown nipples. Then he pinched it with all of his strength. If she had not had the gag in her mouth the shriek would have been heard all over the hotel.

He said with glee, "I just talked to Berrendo and they are going to pay me a whole lot of gringo dollars to give up that perra perejil. I also mentioned that they might want to bring along a few of the Bandello's to fuck up Jordan and his plans."

Then he stood like he was late for an appointment. He said merrily but with a sneer, "Got to go now."

The look of hatred that flashed across his piggy features told Pilar everything she needed to know about the real Pablo.

She had been on the streets when he had taken her under his wing. And she felt like he must have some feelings for her. His beatings were nowhere near as brutal as those of her father and his friends.

But underneath she knew that he was just using her.

On the other hand, Jordan had always treated her like she was a person, not a barrio mujerzuela. And she loved him in her own way. She was going to warn him. Even if she had to lose every inch of skin underneath that tape.

Pilar was very strong. Heredity and a life of hardship had ensured that. And it took destroying the chair by jerking on the frame to get the tape lose enough so that she could get herself free.

She was bleeding at her wrists and across her chest and legs but it was nothing serious. She was used to pain.

She dressed quickly. She knew that she wouldn't have a car. Pablo would have taken THAT.

But one of her many cousins lived nearby. And she called her. That was how poor people got around.

The panicky trip to the site was in the darkness of a Mexico City twilight. It was in her cousin's broken-down, ratty old Ford. And it was nerve wracking. Especially, when Pilar knew what was going to happen there.

It sounded like World War III broke out as they approached. First there was a loud explosion. Then the rattle of automatic weapons.

Pilar jumped out of the car and ran toward the sound. She had no fear of bumping into Cartel soldatos. She had probably fucked half of them.

But she was concerned about Jordan and Marigold.

As she crested the hill she could see a helicopter just lifting off. Then she saw Jordan running away from the safety of the machine.

He had a rifle with him which he emptied into a man who had just placed an odd looking tube on his shoulder.

Pilar recognized the man. He was Paco Berrendo, Moro's lieutenant. Berrendo fell forward as Jordan's bullets ripped into him and something exploded.

Pablo and several others disappeared in the flash and fireball. Pilar felt both grief and satisfaction at that sight.

Jordan was now standing alone holding an empty rifle. And he was facing twenty or so gang members.

A hail of bullets cut him down.

Pilar shrieked in agony. But her cry wasn't heard. That was because, at that instant the very earth opened around the men shooting at Jordan. And it seemed like hellfire itself rained down from the heavens.

The impact and heat of the thunderous concussions knocked Pilar to the ground. And the overwhelming noise curled her into a fetal ball. The utter silence that followed was deafening.

She raised her head to look at where the Cartel soldiers had been standing. All she could see were craters and smoking ruin.

And the distant wailing of sirens was all she could hear.

Pilar was a tough Barrio Chola. Nevertheless, she ran sobbing down the hill toward the recumbent body of Robert Jordan.

He was bleeding and he looked dead. She didn't know. What she DID know, was that she had to get him out of there before the police arrived.

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Marigold's Lear touched down at MEX exactly 12 hours later. The Marigold who emerged was the original irresistible force. She had a younger woman in tow.

They hurriedly got into a waiting Humvee, while another man emerged from the Lear. He looked and carried himself like a high priced lawyer. He went about handling the entrance paperwork. Meanwhile, the Humvee had motored off without pausing.

The first sight that Jordan got of heaven was an angelic face beaming down at him. He hurt everywhere, which didn't make sense. Unless he had ended up in that OTHER place.

But that had been the face of a celestial being. So he was pretty sure he had landed in the right spot.

Then he drifted off. When he awoke again he was feeling a little less fragile. He became aware of the chirping going on around him.

He looked to one side. He saw "American British Cowdray Hospital" on a monitor next to his bed.

He thought, "Wait? Is this a hospital??!! I'm not dead???!!"

The monitors began to chatter and a nurse rushed in. She saw that he was awake. She walked over to the bed and said reassuringly, "I'll get your doctor." And she exited quickly.

Then a tall lissome woman sauntered in. She was dressed in the classic doctor scrubs. She walked unhurriedly up to Jordan studying him in that detached clinical fashion that doctors use.

She was young and absolutely gorgeous. But that was not what Jordan noticed about her. It was the sense of calm, self-contained confidence, and capability that she just radiated.

Her name tag said that she was Millicent Butler MD ABS. But in fact, she was better known as Marigold's little sister, Millie.

She had all of Mary's beauty. But she had none of her worldly air. In fact, Millie seemed almost girlishly innocent.

Millie smiled kindly at him. She said, "You were wounded in five different places. Three of them were relatively superficial but one went through your upper lung and another nicked your femoral artery."

She said with supreme confidence, "You are going to make it but it was touch and go for a while. I had to open you up a couple of different times to seal off new bleeding."

She added "If it were not for the woman who got the tourniquet on your leg and rushed you to the emergency room, you would have bled out. You owe her your life."

Jordan knew how much the entire nation of Mexico owed Pilar. And he was going to make sure that she lived the rest of her life as a very rich and well honored woman.

Then SHE appeared. The look of adoration was worth all of the pain.

She said, "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. But I had to handle the details of your transfer. I want to take you to my villa in St. Lucia to recover. Millie will handle your care there. She is an internationally known trauma surgeon."

Then she walked to the bed and took Jordan's hand. She brought it to her mouth and kissed it.

She added with a sly wink, "I want you to make a quick recovery. Because we have a wedding to plan."

And Robert Jordan - former lone wolf and dyed-in-the-wool nowhere man - just smiled back at her. Two of the most unlikely people on earth had found each other.