Here it is. Chapter 15. Hope you enjoy it. To all those who put up with these long delays; I love you.
Special shoutout to Wimsett, you are awesome…
Oh and please comment. I have written this story across so many years, it is hard to know if it flows or fits since I my self have changed.
Thank you !
Demyan carried Alexandyres limp form as gently as he could; all around the complex the battle was heating up. The helicopters that were so distant before were now over head, and the sparse gunshots were now constant. The building shook from an explosion as Demyan and Marcus exited out the back of the complex; he just hoped that it wasn’t his Mig that they were targeting. Smoke from guns and explosions whispered about the entire airfield; truly a fog of war. As Demyan got closer, slowly the form of the his Mig crept from the mist; its dominating form lay strongly waiting to fly once more…
With care he lay Alex into the passenger seat, hooking the bloodbags to overhead instruments. Alexandyres face was a permanent grimace; as though he were dreaming, his eyes could be seen dashing frantically under his tightly closed lids.
Demyan tore an insignia similar to Mikail and Alexandyres off the dash of his mig and turned to Marcus. “You live. You give to them from me. Tell them Nizhny Tagil. We will talk there.”
The man held up a finger in pause. Stepping up the side of the cockpit with the cooler. Marcus pulled out two fresh blood bags and replaced the first two. Still with a desperate look of concentration he stepped down and gave a final nod to Demyan before turning and making his way from the Jet.
The mercenary soldiers had taken up any defensive positions that they could behind their vehicles, in trenches and towers, firing relentlessly at the hovering gunship helicopters from which figures could be seen firing down at them while descending on ropes. There was absolute chaos in what was clearly a losing battle for the ground soldiers as the gunships reduced everything they fired at to utter nothingness.
The Russian pilot then shut the hatch. He glared around him through the haze, looking for clearance. A fresh burst from one of the helicopters above lit up the airfield and gave Demyan what he wanted; a barely clear runway. He knew it wasn’t much, but for the King of MiGs, it would be enough.
He had strapped Alexandyre in as best he could, and taking one glance back at his friend, he let the engine roar its deafening roar.
The planking of bullets off of the MiG could be barely heard as the aircraft made its takeoff at blinding speed through the fog of war.
Alex was barely conscious anymore. Over the roar he could make out Russian voices on the radio and Demyan yelling back “Nizhny Tagil! Nizhny Tagil!” over and over again.
Alexandyre smiled as another wave of bewildering panic set in. ’ A hundred forms of fear… heh.’ he thought, feeling as though he was about to dive headfirst into a whirlpool. A maelstrom of the unknown; not sure how much of him would come out the other side, but knowing that’s where he was going…
Laying on Lucy’ bed waiting for her, was powder, wipes, and her beautiful red dress thoughtfully layed out. Even through the weight of sorrow that settled upon her, she couldn’t help but smile in gratitude.
With that smile on her face she spread out the diaper she had taken from the closet, a very thick one, given her recent track record, and set about sprinkling it with baby powder before settling down on it and powdering herself. Standing up, she couldn’t help but continue to be surprised by the bulk of the diaper, but resolved that it was a good thing; though after she put on her dress, she wasn’t as convinced. The dress, while it went long past her knees, was silk, and left little to the imagination, including the fact that she was well diapered, and the slit of the dress came up just short of her waist. It didn’t show the diaper, but it was darn close. On the whole though, she felt comforted. She looked just as she had for Alexandyre at Mikails.
Tears formed in her eyes at the thought of him. She quickly blinked them back though. ‘How idealistic we have been.’ Lucy thought. Their time together was shot through with danger, but not once did they pause. They had cultivated love in what should have been a context that spoke to nothing but tragedy. But they moved forward anyway; paying no heed to the extraordinary events that would come to pass as they made their way to this moment.
Wiping the tears away from her beautiful green eyes, she let a smile begin to touch her lips. ‘We went against all that we should have felt together and didn’t hesitate. Yes we were idealistic. Why shouldn’t I still be?’ Another voice within her spoke up indignantly, ‘Because he is gone.’ it said.
“Bullshit!” she said allowed to herself. “We’ve made it this far, we will keep going on.” With that Lucy went back over to her twin phone of Alexandyres and resolved to try once more - and she
The phone rings…
‘Regardless of if nobody answers, I will come to you my dear.’ Lucy thinks to herself.
The phone rings…
‘Regardless my dear…’
The phone stops ringing… Lucy holds her breath. Then there is a loud knock on the suite door and Cory’s voice comes through “Hey there lassy, gotta talk to ye; i’m comin’ in.”
“Hello!?” Lucy gasps into the phone. “Alex!?”
“I am with comrade Alexandyre.” Returns the dense accent of the Russian waiter.
“Demyan! where is Alex!” Lucy pleas through the phone.
The door to the room clicks and the large form of the Irish Captain steps into the room to see teary eyed Lucy on the phone.
“Demyan, is he ok?!” Lucy frantically asks again.
“He is… Ok… But you come now.” Finished Demyan; the phone went dead.
All she could do for a moment is stare at the phone. This didn’t sound good. She should be happy, she thought, but Demyans voice sounded hollow and ragged.
“Lucy!” Bellowed Cory, seeing her put down the phone. “Alexandyre is alive.”
She stared blankly at the ship Captain.
“Ye know lassy… Well it be no great surprise to ye, seein’ that ye come from Mikails lot, that yer under the protection o the Irish mafia; by me. What is surprisin’ lassy - is that the Soviet-Russo mob; no friends of mine, are sendin’ an aircraft to pick ye up missy.”
A look of worry started in Lucy’ eyes.
“Well now missy; don’ look too down- ye see, yer goin to yer man. But the fine style of how yer gettin there, and where yer goin… Honey they think yer mafia. They think ye are Mikails mafia. But they don’ mention Mikail… They used yer mans name. Alexandyre.” The captain finished, seeming to have a hard time getting something across.
Lucy’ blank stare broke and turned to a mixture of determination and fear as a loud rumble sounded from above, getting louder with each second. “Listen Lucy; that’s yer ride. What i’m sayin’, is that I don’t know what yer man is cooking, but best go along with it till yer with Mikails man, Demyan.”
Lucy looked him in the eyes, thinking of what she had told herself about moving forward, and with a large exhale, let her gaze become one of warm gratitude. With that she leapt forward and gave the Irish captain a startling kiss on the cheek. “Thank you Cory!” She beamed.
“Well now lassy, calm yerself. The Mrs’s wont be havin that.” Cory responded, a little red in the cheeks. Lucy raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Andrea has readied most of your things, but we’re only able to put together so many of yer personal affects, coz them jets don’ have a lot of room….”
Lucy continued to smile at the hulking figure. “Well, off with ye lassy! We’ll be watchin after ye.” Finished Cory before making for the door.
Lucy rushed forward just as he turned and managed to get one more peck on the cheek in before he playfully threw up his arms and walked through the doorway…
She didn’t waste a moment. Her beautiful figure swept across the room and took up Alexandyres backpack and stuffed some extra diapers inside before making for the door once more.
Lucy’s diaper could clearly be seen by the growing group of bystanders around the jet as she lifted herself into the modified aircrafts rear seat, her long brown hair and her silk dress blowing about mildly in the wind. To any who saw it; it may have seemed strange to see a jet aircraft on a helicopter landing pad, but their questioning aura was soon to be dispersed. The Yak-39 began its vertical take off with a roar and a slow hover before rising up further away from the landing pad. Though Lucy could not see any of the people below, she was sure Cory and Andrea were waving their farewell as the aircraft began moving forward to take her to dearest Alexandyre…
Burnt rubber skitted across the runway as the King of Migs touched down with a mixture of incredible skill and a great desperation. The old soviet aircraft had been pushed to over three times the speed of sound, stressing every bolt and rivet in a bid of madness to reach Nizhny Tagil.
Nizhny Tagil was an underground research facility built in the soviet era; and although, in terms of size, it resembled a city more than a hospital, all that could be seen from above was an airstrip and a plain concrete air control tower. After the collapse of the soviet union it took on the name of Brukholt and became a means to its own end. Research for researches sake. No longer catering to government ideas of humanitarian boundaries, the science practiced at Brukholt was extraordinary and for an extraordinary price Brukholt could do things thought to be impossible.
This is what Demyan hoped for as his aircraft came to a stop and he took stock in what lay before him. Little had gone as planned. They did not land where they had intended, a mercenary force had all but killed Alexandyre, and the Russian waiter had been forced to use an old KGB call for backup that had long since been used by the Russian mob in Russia who must have wondered what was happening to where Mikails maffia called them into a veritable battle and then flew away.
On top of all that, Demyan had also been shot and was still bleeding on the runway of a facility that he had heard about from Mikail but didn’t know if it actually existed or if he was the right place. Before touching down, he radioed out his intent and the type of aid he sought, but received no response, and now looking around the pilot of the King of MiGs saw only a blank airstrip; the only indication of activity being the blinking runway a single light on the control tower.
The Russian shifted his head as though talking back to Alex and in an exhausted voice began, “Comrade, I have tried best… I am sor-”
But was then interrupted as floodlights mounted to the control tower began to light up with loud popping sounds to reveal two large metal doors at its base…
Lucy’ situation was beginning to get dire. The VTOL jet was anything but comfortable and her diaper was anything but dry. She wasnt sure if it was butterflies in her stomach over the anticipation of seeing her beloved Alexandyre again, or the drinking she had done the night before; but her stomach was in knots and there was no toilet at over 20,000 ft…
Moments of concern passed and her mind drifted away from the stomach paints to the same panic enducing thoughts that had tortured her for the last hour and a half. How badly is he hurt? Why did Demyan sound so serious? Why do they think Alex is maffia? And who is ‘they’ !?
These questions would continue to plague her over the next couple thousand miles along with her grubling stomach. She couldn’t control when she wet herself, but the last thing she wanted was to involuntarily mess herself…
Demyan helped the medics pull Alexandyres form from the cockpit of the jet; their assisting eyes wide in skeptical disbelief when the shattered form let out a single cough.
“The man is alive!?” Spouted one of the medics.
One of the men stepped forward with a flashlight even before lifting his eyelids he could see that Alexandyres eye were darting about frantically as though in a dream. Cautiously pulling open one eyes he saw that Alex’ pupils were wildly dialated and fluctuating. “Jesus…” The man whispered to himself about to turn away when he stopped; an scar of angry flesh on the young mans upper left arm caught his attention. The medic made his way around to the opposite side of Alexandyre and leaned over the branded symbol. His face took on a look of extreme seriousness, before he turned, talking to his men as he walked away towards Demyan…
“Be careful to handle him. God knows what drugs are keeping this man alive, and now seeping through his pores. Strap him down and get him below right away. This man gets full treatment.”
As the group began to cart Alexandyres form to the underground entrance, he shouted after the other men one last time.
“When his blood gets on your uniform, find a replacement and expect hallucinatory side effects; warn your replacements to wear protective gear and follow the same precautions till he’s patched up or dead!”
The group of men, showing no sign of stopping to listen or of even having heard their fellow medic, continued on through large metal doors that parted as they approached; the remaining medic seemed to be only waiting around to speak with Demyan…
Lucy had lost track of time a midst her desperation and constant feeling of helplessness. The hours of the day had gone and the sun was beginning to set as they traveled through golden skies. She had so many questions and no ability to get answers. Every time she tried to shout to the pilot all she got was a response in Russian. They had refueled three times now and the jet was visibly descending again. Lucy knew there was no holding on longer if this wasn’t the final destination. The thought of meeting her love once more in a messy diaper was only overwhelmingly comforted by the fact that she would be with Alexandyre once more; that was all that mattered…
Twenty minutes later the aircraft was moments from touching down on what looked to be a barren runway with not but a single concrete tower. Unlike on the ship, the pilot didn’t seem to be planning on landing vertically, but was going to take advantage of the runway. Ending that observation the aircraft suddenly jerked and rumbled, hitting the runway and slowing down at a drastic pace.
Lucy’s eyes closed tight. The sudden movement was all that was needed to interupt her focus as her sphincter gave way and she filled the back of her diaper with a near liquid mess. She fought to regain control and felt her self teeter on the verge of letting go and holding back the pressure in her abdomen. Not yet opening up her eyes, she let her hand travel to the back of her diaper to check the damage. To her dismay the mess of her momentary lapse was substantial. Her stomach was still grumbling angrily when the aircraft finally came to a lurching halt and she just barely held back a second assault from her bowels and instead felt a warmth in the front of her diaper that told her she was wetting. With a deep sigh of acceptance Lucy opened her eyes.
The lone tower now shown with floodlights blaring into its background of a red sunset; with a deeper sense of knowing, Lucy felt that she had arrived at their final destination and behind the large metal doors at the base of the control tower was her beloved Alexandyre…
Demyan and the lone medic who had waited back stood on the empty runway…
“I am Dr. Scott Clark.” Spoke the man in perfect english.
“Demyan.” Replied the Russian waiter-pilot with an nod, while trying to stand up straight against the pain in his side; hoping that when he explained that he worked for Mikail, it would be enough to get his friend a miracle.
“You have clearly lost a lot of blood, so I will make this short.”
Demyan waited, anticipating rejection; he was ready to threaten lives until his comrade was taken care of.
“To my knowledge, that bent sickle, Mikail, is still alive. And here I have his heir; shot to pieces with a bleeding escort.”
Demyan was very surprised at the assumption that Alex was somehow Mikails heir… It would get Alexandyre treated though, and they needed all the help they could get.
“How you know he is heir?” put forth Demyan to the Dr.
“It doesn’t take a genius.” the doctor replied, clearly proud of himself. “I know what Mikails symbol looks like and I know Mikail is alive. For this boy to have that symbol on his body; he must be very special indeed…”
Demyan thought quickly… The only way to make this airtight would be to get a hold of Mikail as soon as possible.
“You will treat him then.” The Russian ventured.
“It is already taking place Demyan… I hope Mikail is ready to pay a hefty bill for this lad.” Put in Scott Clark.
“He is.” Finished the Russian waiter.
It was another twenty minutes before the hatch of the aircraft was opened by the pilot and he began to make his way out of the aircraft. Lucy was grateful he had not said anything about the smell and that he was exiting first. At this point sitting down was all she could do to keep from messing herself the rest of the way. Peering out of the aircraft she could see the pilot approach the metal doors of the tower; glancing a little further, she could see what she only guessed was the top of a ladder that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
Lucy knew she was going to have to get out at some point. Right then, when the pilot was away and no one was around to witness her accident seemed like her best option. Afraid of leaking, she slowly leaned forward, pulling up her dress from under her. With that she started getting up. The moment she lifted her diapered bum to gather her feet under her, her fight for control was utterly lost. A huge mess made its way into her diaper. First she felt the back fill up and then it surged to the front. For a time, she stood there, half standing, half sitting in mid air – frozen and hoping that none of it would leak out.
Finally, sure that her diaper hadn’t leaked, she began to get out of the aircraft; the mess shifting in her diaper with every movement. It wasn’t the worst feeling she had experienced; not by a long shot. What she didn’t like was the lack of control of the situation… And… The smell.
Having reached the ground, she could not help breaking into a smile. Demyan stood in the entrance, tall and well dressed in a black suit. Lucy felt joy at the site of the man; feeling like a piece of her life had been put back into place. She would have ran to him had it not been for her overly full diaper.
“Miss Lucy, it is good to see you.” Demyan voiced in a genuine smile.
“Oh Demyan, how is Alex?!” Lucy said urgently; her tone stuck between joy and concern.
“He is recovering…” Replied the Russian waiter; pausing for a moment in reflection before continuing. “You can see him. He will like this…”
Lucy nodded, her eyes fixed on Demyan with a look of concern. She took a step past the Russian before he spoke again.
“Is there anything you want to do before meeting?” He ventured.
Lucy blushed a bit as she turned to respond. “Ummm, where is the nearest bathroom?”
“Right this way miss.” Demyan spoke; stepping past her…
Alexandyre still had IV lines bringing various liquids into his body when he awoke. He was large white room. There were bags of fluids leading into his arms in a series of Ivs. Beyond that, the room was empty. It all looked real; but he knew better than to trust that. He had been caught in a cycle of hallucinations for what seemed to be an eternity. Trying to move, he realized he was strapped down in a dozen different ways. The straps seemed real too. Alex was relieved to be in a world that so far made sense. He allowed himself a thought he had come to regard skeptically. ‘Maybe this was the original world. Maybe he was finally in the place he had been looking for.’ But why was he here. Why was he strapped down.
Alex stopped for a moment and thought intensely as though trying to recall something that happened long ago. Where had he left off… What was the last thing to actually happen. His mind searched and searched before the memories reached out to him through a haze. There was Lucy. He remembered Lucy. A pang of joy touched him but was quickly whisked away by another memory… He had been captured. He had been shot and captured. Darkness crept into his mind. At first; panic. Then anger. Where was Lucy… He about to test the restraints when a voice resounded in the room.
“Alexandyre please relax. The restraints are for your protection.” Spoke a mans un-accented mans voice from a small speaker on the door to the room.
“Where is -” Alex was cut off.
“Lucy? She has just arrived and will be down shortly…” The voice paused. “We know you will not believe our good intent until she is here. This IS reality. She is coming. Please don’t strain yourself; the injuries you sustained go further than you know.”
Alexandyre took a deep breath and considered what the voice had said… Lucy was coming… And he was injured. Alex looked down at his body. ‘Yes’ he thought. ‘I was shot.’
‘I don’t feel hurt…’
The voice returned over the intercom again. “Alexandyre. Lucy is on her way here, but before she arrives I need to explain a thing or two about your condition to you. I am going to open this door and come in, but I need you to agree that you won’t try to move around. It is very important to your condition that you stay still.”
“Come in.” Was all Alex replied. With that the door to the room swung open and middle aged man in a white lab coat and gray scrubs walked in.
" I am Dr. Scott Clark."
Alex gave a short nod.
“Ill get right to it… As you may know. You came here heavily injured and drugged. We were able to help your body heal, but your mind had to ride it out. The part of your brain that automatically regulates and limits your conscious muscle use is gone.”
The Doctor paused. Alex said nothing, merely giving a nod to proceed.
“For example…You could easily strain against these straps and maybe even break free; but so far, you have strained yourself till bones have broken or serious muscles torn.” Finished Dr. Scott.
“You make it sound like i’ve done this…” Alex responded, a faint sense of deja-vu creeping over him.
“You have. This is the furthest in conversation we have gotten. Without being able to say that Lucy was here, waking you up ended in violence every time.”
“Is Lucy actually here?” Alex asked forcefully, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.
“Yes… She is. We tried lying to you on this account. It did not work.”
“You say broken bones and torn muscles and I know I’d been shot. How do I know this is reality?”
“It is real; I assure you. The science practiced here is extraordinary. The process we had to use aged you years. We cannot yet outright heal someone as injured as you were, but we can dramatically increase the healing process. As you are; your body was aged six years. Our best guess puts you at twenty five years old. If you don’t want to get any older I suggest you listen when I ask you to not move.”
“I’ll feel a lot more like listening when Lucy is here…Doc.” Spoke Alex intently…
“She will be here soon Alexander; but take care to not hug her or touch her. You don’t know your own strength yet and you may well break her…” Seeing Alex’ face turn a pale shade, Dr. Scott paused for a moment and then continued.
“With time you will learn how to consciously regulate your strength. In the meantime, I suggest you be careful with anything that requires a measure of delicacy…”
With that, the doctor set about undoing the straps that held Alexander down…
When Lucy walked through the door and saw Alexandyre sitting there her heart nearly burst with joy. Tears welled up in her beautiful green eyes as she rushed forward to Alex. She threw her arms around him and hugged him deeply, holding his head to her chest for a moment then drawing back to kiss him repeatedly.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Alex uttered, choked up. “Lucy… You’re here.”
“I’m here darling. I’m here.” She returned.
“I can’t hug you.” Alex said, still shocked.
“I know baby, they told me everything. We’ll work on it together.”
A long silence followed. Lucy would not let go of Alexandyre for some time. Finally after long minutes Alex spoke.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Returned Lucy, her sweet voice full of gratitude.