Cat war, an alternate USA AAR

[lifeless]

update! woo hoo!

[Amona]

XXVI – THE STRONG ONE IS STRONGEST ALONE



Palace of the Senora Presidenta, Mexico-City, January 11th, 1939, 18.24 hours

“Some in the movement fear its too strong a move. The Americanas will be really angry about this.”
“So what, Teresa? They will counter with words, debating and lamenting as they always do. They lack the will for a real conflict. America is weak. You hear me, the day will come and we will take revenge for the insults they gave us the last 150 years. Not far in the future this day is...”
“I am looking forward to that, Senora Presidenta. Nonetheless, there is anxiousness in the movement. Is it wise to act so soon after our victory? There is so much still to do in Mexico, the Gringas can wait – so they say.”
“We must make a stand. Show them that we are mistress here in our own land. The movement will follow me in this.”
“Undoubtedly the movement will do as you wish, great leadress.”
Teresa De La Cruz was wise enough to drop the matter now. Presidenta Arranza was determined to confiscate all american property in Mexiko, no matter the consequences. Teresa knew full well who was behind this plan. Last night, the Arranza had had fun in the sheets with the german ambassador, a blonde lady with a voluptous bossom and obviously clear orders directly from Berlin. The fascist silvershirts had won in Mexiko because of german help, and it was time to pay back, even if very soon to do so.
The assistant to Lady Arranza didnt like this the least, but there was a line in opposing the leadress one didnt cross if interested in ones well being. Hopefully, Arranza was right and the Americanas wouldnt react more than verbally to this grave move.
She changed the subject:
“We have prepared the plans for our army build up. The staff is ready to present it to you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Very well, Teresa. We cant be too ambitious in our plans for a larger army. Equipment is no problem, the Germans will deliver everything we request.”
The leadress lit a cigarette and offered one to her aide. Teresa took the offered stick. While offering a light to her aide, the leadress of Mexico said with a dark smile:
“We will need the army soon enough. And then, the Gringas will get what they deserve.”
Or we get a rope around our neck in a nick of time, Teresa thought, hiding her expressions behind a cloud of blue smoke.


Consuela Arranza, dictatress of Mexiko, clearly dislikes Americans. We will probably hear more of her in this respect.


Arranzas aide Teresa de la Cruz, has some reservations to her mistresses plan, but is to wise to insist on them.


The relations between Mexico and the United States are detoriating rapidly.


Mellowmouth Castle, Headquarters of The Queens Commandos, Scottish Highlands, United Queendom, January 12th, 1939, 10.02 hours

“A nice outfit you have running here, Colonel Mountbatten. Fit and tight gals, ready for action. Would make a good hockey team.”
“Arr, Lady Jones, you know what our mission is?”
“Sure, bloody well I know. Thats why I was sent over to have a look. Your unit was commissioned to evaluate possibilities and train for missions targeting enemy leadresses and specialists without the use of deadly force. Abducting the bitches, to be exact. I am especially impressed with the speed and precision with wich your chicks can secure a subject with tape. Outstanding performance. If I imagine those german generals well bound and gagged by your gals and hustled helplessly about on a leash... magnificent.”
“Fine. So you are impressed. Are we now an attraction for government officials? Maybe we should sell tickets? Or go on a tour through the empire?”
“Haha, I love your sarcasm, Lady Mountbatten, I really do. Erhm, no, lets get serious. Your force has a real potential. I am no goverment official of the kind you clearly dislike. In fact, I am of the Secret Service. Department counterterrorism. We want to employ you on some real missions.”
“Abducting who?”
“Well, terrorists, thats obvious. Throughout the empire, there are various groups doing mischief, from the IRA to egyptian nationalists or blackafrican ones. In many cases, we have the intel to act and destroy the groups, but the bloodshed is viewed as very messy, especially by our current, arrr, pacifist government. Now YOU are here with your taping wizards. We give you some real work, and you deliver us some nice packages of terrorists. What do you say?”
“Lady Jones, I am soldier of the Empire, my oath is to Queen and Empire. I go where you send me.”
“Fine, thats what I like about soldiers. Okay, lets get down to business. We are working on the IRA bitches responsible for the bombings and killings over the last one and a half year. We have names, safe houses, even a training camp in the irish landscape located, but our sources say there is only recruit material there. What we want is the leadress of these bitches, one Blodwen Shawnessy.”
“I have heard the name. A real sweetheart. Would feel really good to take her down.”
“Exactly how we feel about it. So, we are waiting for her to show up. Meanwhile, you gals might get accustomed to the locations and so on. We will build models you can train on. The politicians want no bloodshed, so everything must go well.”
“Thats what we have trained for, taking out all the villainesses without killing them.”
“Would make a good comic.”
“You are into comics?”
“Not really. But my daughter is.”
“My daughter is currently into necromancy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, dont mind, at school, my daughter prefers sinister rituals at night to learning for exams. I am afraid I did something wrong in her education.”
“A good smacking might cure her rather quick.”
“You have a point there, on the other hand... the government might object to so violent an action.”
Eve Lois Mounbatten looked deadly serious. Bridget Jones of Secret Service grinned widely. A funny gal, this one, the intelligence officress thought.


Secret service officer Bridget Jones would like to see IRA terrorist Blodwen Shawnessy all taped up.


The streets of Chicago, Illinois, USA, Friday, the 13th of January, 1939, 11.37 hours local time

Bronwyn Breckinridge wasnt in a good mood, to say the least. The snow on the streets reminded her of the winter 17/18 in the Argonnes, where she had lost more than a few good gals to the german sl*ts. Furthermore, her arthritis had won today against her longevity drug, as it had the last 5 days in a row. On top of that, her breakfast hadnt been right, or at least her stomach thought so, sending alarming signals to her old brain. A visit on a toilet would be necessary, and it would be a fight like back in the Argonnes, Bronwyn knew full well.
Exactly on this day her youngest granddaughter Sabrina had decided to visit old grandma and go shopping with her.
Well Sabrina was her granddaughter after all, but...
The chick was no good at all, in Bronwyns oldfashioned eyes. To much makeup, these highheeled overknee boots of shiny red leather a bit to extravagant, the girl smoking constantly it seemed, even while walking in the streets, and speaking, speaking, speaking. Bronwyn had understood she had a new lover, a latina girl at her university, and she was visiting all the important parties and having great fun. But was she learning for her exams? No word about that.
And on what young Sabrina spent her money on. Bronwyn could hardly imagine for what purpose even a young, active chick like her granddaughter needed so much lingerie – silken, of leather, rubber, in all colors, you name it. Lady Breckinridge was really objecting to her granddaughters ways, but if there was a person on mother earth speaking faster than she herself, it was selfcentered Sabrina.
All in all it was not one of Lady Bronwyns best days.
She was more than a bit grateful, when Sabrina entered a restaurant with her for dinner before continueing the shopping tour. While eating, Sabrina would be quiet, and surely this house had a decent toilet. Bronwyn settled on her chair, grunted and ordered a french wine by the smart young squire who emerged quickly at their table. Her granddaughter lit another Marlboro, blewing smoke in the young males face.
“Urrh, Sabrina, honey, I am on my way to the toilet. Some problems with my breakfast.”
“Sure, grandma.”
A few moments later, Bronwyn settled down, breathing lighter. What was this ringing tone in her ears? Was Sabrinas voice really this remarkable? Hopefully, her breakfast would leave her now alone. In the past, all this didnt happen to her. She was getting old, she had to admit. What a pity...


The late Bronwyn Breckinridge, still alive and kicking, having a very bad day so far, and it will get worse.

Wai Choi airfield, near Kunming, Free China, at the same time, 0.14 hours local time

“The day will come, Bill, I will beat you in chess.”
“Thats a possibility, Jess.”
Bill grinned and placed the pieces on the board again. Jess looked darkly at him, clearly not amused by her repeated defeats. The base cat jumped in Jess lap, and the aviatrix started to stroke the grey beast.
It was getting boring here, the japanese bombers coming to Kunming no more. Jess conferred daily with the chinese high command, even Lady Tschiang herself, to move the Tigresses further east to the front. But this seemed easier said than done. The pilot gals were getting restless. Only Bill remained calm, showing his gender for once, as the clishee says, accepting everything coming in a docile male way.
He leaned back and took a sip of coffee. Jess starred at the board, planning her strategy for the fifth game of the night.
Most other gals were asleep, as were the groundcrews. Only the chinese sentries were patrolling in the cold night outside.
Jess made her first move. Bill hid a smile. He was ready for his next victory.
The cat left Jess and hurried away. Jess and Bill didnt care...


French restaurant “Parisian Memories”, Chicago, USA, Friday, 13th January 1939, 12.29 hours local time

Sabrina Breckinridge definitly liked french wines and dinner, but she clearly didnt like to wait for it. In a Kentucky Fried Chicken everything was real fast, but here...
And then her grandma. What was it with the old fart? She just went to the toilet the third time in 30 minutes. Her longevity drug failing at last, it seemed. A miracle she was alive after all. On the other hand, she was rich, and Sabrina didnt mind taking her money.
The blonde young lady crossed her booted legs, sighed theatralically and put another cigarette between her cute lips.
The restaurant was “in” at present. Nearly every table had guests sitting there, drinking, eating, smoking. Mostly ladies, only a few squires. It was expensive here, and the gals showed their money in their clothes, hair style and juwels. Sabrina was a bit ashamed to be here with grandma, who wore an old dress clearly bought at Woolworth about 20 years ago.
Uhh... what was that? A group of five young males had entered, wearing long trenchcoats and hats, carrying big bags. Very strange, a group of males without female guidance. They looked ... disturbing.
One of the waiters made a hand sign to the one in front. The guy nodded, and they opened their bags. By the godess, that were guns, even submachineguns gangstresses used back in the Twenties.
The female guests starred disbelievingly at the guys. Their leader pointed a gun at a lady starting to rise and raised his voice:
“Hello, myladies and gentlemen. My name is Richard, and these men here are members of the REAL GUYS. We are determined to overthrow the female rule on this planet, giving males their rightful place in nature. Please, dont fear, no one will be hurt if you behave and follow instructions. You all have the honor to be part of our great show today.
Let me explain in detail. As we believe, you females all want to be dominated by us males, and to symbolically show your weak nature to all the world, we will arrange you all in a manner making this obvious. Please, take these rubberballs from the gentleman approaching you and put it in your mouths.”
The female gusts were clearly stunned, but even if not, a look at the guns and the stern male faces persuaded every lady to obey the outrageous orders. Sabrina couldnt believe this. She recieved a rubberball, and in a kind of trance she replaced her cigarette with the ball, shoving it into her mouth. One by one, the elegant ladies in the room gagged themselves.
The guy named Richard looked very pleased. His men produced now white silkscarfs.
“Fine, myladies. If you would now be so kind to secure your gags.”
Sabrina let out a moan and looked wildeyed about. Clearly no lady in the room had foreseen such a development of a pleasant dinner.
Richard turned to one of his men:
“Look in the kitchen, Dean. You, Owen, check the toilets.”
After every lady had secured the gags, they were hustled to one side, and the guys started to tie them up with rope. Sabrina watched with growing horror, until it was her own turn.
The male named Richard produced a camera and said thoughtfully:
“We need better light for the pictures...”


Sabrina Breckinridge, speaking to much, smoking to much, and buying to much lingerie - at least if you ask grandmother Bronwyn. Currently a classical damsel in distress.

Wai Choi airfield, China, at the same time, 0.40 hours local time

Miyabi had gone a long way to reach this place. She was alone, as was her custom. She approached the base through the wilderness, observing it for three days. Now she felt ready.
The black clad, hooded Japanese slipped in between two sentries, barely awake even if patrolling around.
There were two ways. Killing the sleeping ones first or the ones still awake. She had decided to start with the ones awake. No american mercenary would live through this night, she would see to that.
She reached the baracks. Suddenly, a sentrie appeared, only five meters to her left. The chinese woman was dead in an instant. Miyabi dropped the body without sound, cleared her knife of blood on the chinese uniform.
A look into the window. Two whites playing chess. She was surprised shortly, one was a male. The decadent Americanas had brought with them a pleasure boy. Disgusting. Should she kill him too? Miyabi killed without thought everyone the empress named worthy of it, but she hadnt anticipated a male here, a mere pleasure boy. Her warrior tradition was opposed to killing males and children. She hesitated. No, she would not kill the male. Securing him would be sufficient.
That decided, she simply approached the door, drawing her katana. The brownhaired american woman opposite the male would probably not even know what killed her.
It was time. Her gloved hand reached for the door knob.


Miyabi, the japanese empress own killer chick, ready to shed some blood.


The toilets, “Parisian Memories”, Chicago, 12.44 local time

Owen found two young ladies in the washroom, emphazising their makeup. Grinning, he waved with his gun and guided them away. He watched with delight as both chicks had to gag themselves like the rest before they were bound. Richard send him back.
The male checked every toilet. He was eager to find another lady, preferable a young, pretty one. What fun to see them all nicely packaged. He thought of his female teacher back in high school, an arrogant gal with very good looks and a sharp tongue. She had made hell out of his life back then. He imagined her among the ladies here.
The member of the GUYS opened the last toilet cabin. An iron fist hit him exactly under his chin. He fell like a sack of grain.
Bronwyn Breckinridge looked down on the unconscious guy and eyed especially the gun.
She murmured:
“Males shouldnt play with guns, especially not this model. Tschechian garbage. No, males and guns, thats like Germans and peace. Dont go together.”

[Thistletooth]

Highlight of the thread so far.

[lifeless]

“Males shouldnt play with guns, especially not this model. Tschechian garbage. No, males and guns, thats like Germans and peace. Dont go together.”

nice update! pictures eh..

[GhostWriter]

Amona: XXV – MOTHERLY CONCERNS...

unreal ! ! i can't believe i missed this update! ! so awesome! !

[GhostWriter]

Amona: XXVI – THE STRONG ONE IS STRONGEST ALONE...

so very true! no one to look after or slow you down! !

Amona: ...No, males and guns, thats like Germans and peace. Don't go together.

in HOI, that is also so very true!

most excellent! !

[GrimReaper]

Yes, finally an update! Very good irony all over

[Amona]

As is quite obvious to the readers, this is – as of yet – a very story-driven AAR, with the actual game very much in the background. As its not very serious and clearly a comedy centering on beautiful ladies being abducted and abducting, there IS a game behind it, and even a mod I put quite some work into.
Furthermore, the fun aspect of it all not withstanding, I intend to wage a real war with the USA and I am determined to win it and crush the fascist countries in the end. So, as the game and AAR progress, the actual game will become more important and will play a bigger role in the AAR.
That said, I inform you that I have restarted the game with Doomsday, playing until January 1939.
Its Doomsday 1.2, the 1936 campaign, my Cat War Mod (still under construction), settings normal – normal.
Mine is the german version of the game, so the interface texts in the screenies are in German. As I assume anyone knows the various screens well enough, the wrong language on the screenies will hopefully not matter to you. The text of posted custom events of the Mod will naturally be still in english.
This update will give an overview about the actual game so far, written partly of-character.

USA – CAT WAR, January 1936 to January 1939

SETUP and DECISIONS at start

- The diplo sliders represent the actual policy of the Roosevelt administration, so there is absolutely no reason why they should be changed, thank you very much.
- Trade: As we believe in free trade, all trade deals are accepted as long as our ressources allow, in other words, the ressource pools dont go red.
- Diplomatic influence in other countries: None. We dont meddle in other countries affairs.
- Secret Service: CIA and FBI are short on funds, even if we produce money rapidly and our money pool says otherwise. In-character we need the funds elsewhere. CIA will send no new agents out to foreign countries. FBI will get funds for counterintelligence once every month, bringing the number of home agents to 10 by October 36, then monthly searching for foreign spies. ( which are no longer executed, but strictly bound, or so the message says – if I am mad, then consequently ;-))
- Production: Naval builds except CV YORKTOWN and its CAG are cancelled. No new units of any kind are build.
- Unit upgrade: We have no enemy anywhere, we are peaceful, the old toy guns are enough for our lady generals. NO upgrading.
- Industrial buildup: Our administration is concentrating on bringing the economy back on track again, so we invest heavily in new industry gamewise. 8 series of 3 factories are started in 100% infrastructure provinces around New York and Boston, completed around Mid-May 1938.
- Technology: The administration sees no direct threats to the USA and certainly no war in the near future. So, research is totally unfocused. We will simply research everything according to historical date, hence starting with 36 technologies, followed by 37, 38 and so on. Only exceptions: Synthetic oil will be left out, as it ruins USA early ressource situation gamewise and is unneccessary, as we swim in oil. Also left out will be rocket research, thats science fiction you see, no need to waste money on.


World developments 1936 – Jan.39

Most things happened as in the HOI2 vanilla game.
-Italy annexed Ethiopia.
-Germany annexed Austria already in 1936.
-Nationalist Spain won the Spanish Civil war early.
-Japan declared war on China and is in January 39 deep into the country, but the front seesaws back and forth now, and no decision is near.
-Brasil won the hockey world cup against Germany ,-)
-The abduction crisis revealed the Germans kidnapping scientists all over the world. The germans had to give up their eivil sheme and released the lady scientists.
-Germany got the Sudetenland by the Munich agreement.
-Mexico became fascist with german help and is starting to ruin its affairs with the US, the Germans pulling the strings.
- Private mercenaries from USA, among them the male Bill Eaton, went over to China as the Flying Tigresses.

Home Developments until Jan. 39

November 36, Lady Roosevelt reelected.
November 36, 2nd round o factories started, this time 6 series of 3 factories, to be completed in April 1939.
July 37 – In a change of policy, the military get some funds for upgrading.
October 37 – USA starts to influence south and central american countries, but slowly so.
May 38 – 2 x 2 Montana class Super battleships started. Last two ready in November 41. The two series eat up around 27 IC total. Queens of the oceans or a waste of IC? The lady admirals in Norfolk, Virginia are deeply divided on this. Meanwhile, the Japs build carriers.
( and will get a sh*tload of them by custom event)
January 38 – We build 3 artillery brigades to augment our 3 continental divisions. Now we will stop the Wehrmacht should she ever reach our shores.
October 38 – 3rd factory lot started, 4 series of 2 factories on the West coast, completed May 40.

State of our armed forces in January 1939.

Army
3 inf.divs.. + arti.bde in continental USA plus 1 cavalry division.
1 garrison at Panama, 1 inf.div. on the Philipines.
Infantry is level 36, artillery basic.

Air Force
4 tactical bomber groups, now upgraded to A20 Boston basic bombers.
1 strategic bomber group, basic B 17.
2 fighter groups, Wildcat basic interceptors.

Navy
Everything as at start plus CV Yorktown.
4 Montana class super BBs are in the build queue.

Technology: Everything going ordinary, up to now nothing rushed, all 36, 37, 38 technologies researched (even the ones which will be of no use).

Secret Service: 10 agents of FBI, currently no foreign spy remaining in our country.
Our foreign agents unchanged, no new spy was sent out in 3 years.


GERMANY strengthened by the Mod:

- Events give Germany about 20 IC plus at start.
- Annexation of Austria already in March 36, while no readying for war of England and France.
- 3 “Technology through abductions” events give Germany a total of 18 blueprints for technologies.
- In Summer 39, an event will strengthen LUFTWAFFE, adding 8 tactical bombers and 4 dive bombers to the german inventory.
- In Summer 1939, Germany will receive no less than 10 armored divisions with basic tanks.
- Several custom events give Germany up to 300 more man (woman) power and a full load of rare materials.


One of only three US divisions in the States. Since 1936 not a single division was comissioned.


The only strategic bomber group of US Army Air Corps. Altough units were outfitted with new planes, no new squadrons were added to the small air corps.


US Atlantic Fleet under Admiral Benson, an old dragon believing in battleships. Though the second largest navy behind the british, the US Navy has received no new ships apart from a single carrier.


US production in January 1939.


The US Economy January 39.


One of currently about 400 custom events of the CAT WAR mod.

[lifeless]

those sure are some house rules you got! i hope it wont be too late to stop germany when its time to rearm!

[GrimReaper]

Yeah, your number of Infantry divisions gives me the creeps

[Amona]

Lifeless, Grimreaper:
Dont fear, my strategy isnt so much different from what I do with USA in vanilla games. The factory building will give me about 450 IC when Pearl Harbor happens and I go into war. By mid 1943, I usually have a navy, air force and army to cut the AXis to shreds.
Even the strong Germany wont matter much, only bettering german performance in Russia.
A problem is the slider settings, but the normal events will boost interventionism and hawk lobby soon enough.
And if difficulties arrive, so more fun writing as well as reading the AAR.
Dont forget there is the heroine the whole story started with: Jill Tessa Ryan, maybe the coming Lady president?
She too, will have to fight her corner. We dont want it to be too easy for her.
One should not forget Mexico. Alamo happened here too.

I got a rather long story update two thirds ready, featuring the very first scene of personal combat I ever wrote in english in my life. But I havent worked on the pictures yet, which I consider an important part of the flavor and which took quite some time to prepare. Furthermore, I am very tired now after a long work day, so probably an update wont be ready until tomorrow.

I am glad you still follow.

[GhostWriter]

Amona: ...Trade: As we believe in free trade..Diplomatic influence in other countries: None. We don't meddle in other countries affairs.

very interesting! ! this i have done before...

Amona: ...State of our armed forces in January 1939.

pathetic is an understatement! ! the Mexicans can, and may, annex you! !

Amona: ...Our foreign agents unchanged, no new spy was sent out in 3 years.

that is OK.

Amona: ...GERMANY strengthened by the Mod: ..Several custom events give Germany up to 300 more man (woman) power and a full load of rare materials.

seems OK. what is "a full load of rare materials"?

Amona: ...One of currently about 400 custom events of the CAT WAR mod.

totally awesome! !

excellent update! !

Amona: ...I am glad you still follow.

not nearly as glad as we are that you still write! !

[Amona]

Ghostwriter:
Thank you for your praise.
A full load of rares are several 10k of everything by various events.
The Mexikans ARE a problem, but the AI wont declare war, as long as no further events make them do so.
And with developments there, the US policy will change. THere will be now some army strengthening in the coming months.
Gamewise I am waiting for basic infantry 39 to be researched before starting to biuld some.

I will now start finishing the update and working on the pictures. Will be up in a few hours.

[Jacko the Panda]

This is teh most coolzor AAr 4 evah .

[Amona]

This is teh most coolzor AAr 4 evah .

Even though I am not sure I understand everything in full , I assume its praise and hereby thank you, you are welcome.

Update to follow.

[Amona]

XXVII – DIE HARD

Chicago Police Department, Chicago, Ilinois, January 13th 1939, 12.56 hours

“Your gals are really good, Lady Tucker. This little Italian with the huge eyes, never seen a better shot in my career.”
“Thanks, Lady Comissioner.”
Beyonce Tucker was very pleased with the day so far. Her A-platoon had clearly won the shootout with the gals from Chicago PD. Chicago was simply a good place for the Deltas. She remembered very fondly the mission here against the german SET, ending the abductions.
While she was chatting with the Lady Comissioner, A-platoon was having a break. For the afternoon, a long-distance-run against Chicagos finest was planned. Beyonce had no doubt her chicks would be triumphant again. Even if Amy already chewed on another chocolate bar and Maria sucked on a Marlboro as usual.
“Lady Tucker, we should head to the Cafeteria now, the Lady Mayor will arrive soon, and...”
A police officress approached the Comissioner and whispered urgently in her ear. The blonde stirred. A quick glance to Beyonce. There were suddenly worried faces in the background.
The chief of FBIs Delta Force raised an eyebrow. Amy started to stroll over.
The comissioner couldnt hold back:
“Lady Tucker, theres a report about a strange hostage case right in downtown Chicago. It... looks very strange, I, ... maybe we could need your help.”
Amy reached their side and offered:
“You have arranged some real action for us? How nice of you, Comissioner.”
Beyonce sighed and otherwise ignored Amys comment.
“We would be glad to help. Can you give us details?”
“Well, it looks like some males, calling themselves REAL GUYS, have taken the guests and staff of a restaurant hostage, tying up all female persons. They seem to be armed with submachineguns. Their number is unkown.”
“Terrorism, obviously. I knew this REAL GUYS. Usually harmless. Any demands yet?”
“No, but they have called the police themselves.”
“May I give some advice?”
“Sure, cases like that are FBI missions anyway.”
“Ring the place with you forces but do nothing else. We will take matters in hand. A ride to the scene for me and my girls would be nice.”
“Immediately, Special Agent Tucker.”
Beyonce noted the change from “Lady” to “Special Agent” and smiled to herself.
Amy finished the chocolate bar and waved for her section leadresses. The darkhaired white seemed bored. Probably disappointed the enemies were mere males...


Palace of the Daughter of the Sun, Tokyo, Japan, the same moment

Barona Waltraud Grete von und zu Borkenrinde, the Reichs ambassadoress to Japan, was a bit uneasy about the situation. The Himmler had sent a blonde poison ivy named Ophelia Skorzeny over, an Oberst to boot. This impertinent, arrogant superfrau in the worst sense had visited some military outfit of the little yellow monkeys, and something had happened there which led the daughter of the sun to believe that she had to see this Skorzeny.
So, Waltraud was here again, in the palace, introducing this tall impertinent girl to this other small, but even more impertinent girl.
To her astonishment, and clearly to the assembled yellow monkeys too, Skorzeny bowed deeply to the empress in the asian way, as if she was one of them even.
Hirohitas eyes were dark and cold as ever. Waltraud always had a cold shiver down the spine when meeting the japanese empress.
The empress watched Skorzeny closely, which, at least two heads taller, now met her gaze. Was this deference in the blondes look? Waltraud could hardly believe it. A Superfrau of the SET bowing and showing deference to an asian teenager? Well, the empress was a twen okay, but...
“You have met my Ninjas.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You met them in mock battle. They failed.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Where did you learn to fight like this?”
The Skorzeny answered in Japanese, which Waltraud had studied in Marburg at the university in her youth and spoke perfectly, or so she thought. But she didnt catch the meaning of these words. The empress obviously did.
“Did you learn the ways of the sword too?”
“Yes.”
“We will meet with swords. Now.”
Waltraud was alarmed. The assembled japanese ladies let out a collective gasp of shock and disbelief. One even dared to say:
“You surely mean wooden swords, Your Majesty...”
“No. Katanas. To the first blood.”
“As you wish.”, Skorzeny whispered in japanese, using exactly the same words as Miyabi a few weeks ago in this very room.


If Hirohita knew the german ambassadoress thinks of her as a yellow monkey, the Germans minutes would be numbered indeed.


She again, doing mischief as usual.


Wai Choi Airfield, near Kunming, Free China, the same moment

Bill Eaton took the kings tower for a routine move as several things happened at once. The door to the sleeping quarters opened and Aviatrix Cora van Fleet, a cute blonde, entered in her underwear. Second, the cat hissed and jumped on the cupboard, causing some chinese cups to fall down and burst on the ground. Third, a dark clad female opened the door and jumped into the room, swinging a very sharp looking sword.
Jess, turning to the cat and the cups, had risen up in the process, now looking paralyzed on the steel coming down to end her life. Cora van Fleet let out a surprised gasp. Then the cat flew through the air, hissing shrill. Its claws targeted the intruders eyes. In the last moment, the sword changed its course, slicing the poor cat virtually in half in a rain of blood and tissue. In the same movement, the attackress shot out a kick at Jess, hitting her in the bossom and sending her into the air.
At last, a small dagger left the intruders other hand, meeting Coras throat in an instant and immediately killing the blonde, who died without a sound.
Bill took cover behind the table, which Jess Sumers now hit hard, thrown onto it by the vicious kick.
Nevertheless, Jess reacted very quickly, darting to the left, sending the chessboard and the pieces to the ground. As the van Fleet, the parts of the cat, and the chess game all hit the ground, the sword cut deeply into the table. Bill couldnt follow the fight in full, everything was happening much to fast. Somehow Jess had managed to throw her stool on the hooded killress, buying time. In the sleeping quarters, the aviatrixes started to awake. Surely a development the killress didnt plan for.
But to late for Jess, which again faced the now bloody sword.
Altough a mere male, Bill was no coward, and he had the reflexes of a fighter pilot. He had the advantage that the intrudress completely ignored him – for once his gender was benefitting him. The first thing in reach was the heavy, oldfashioned coffeecauldron.
Bill seized it and acted, quite sure he would be sliced in half like the cat. But the killress, as quick and deadly as she might be, gravely underestimated him. His attack came in unopposed – and hit hard. The black clad hooded gal only sighed once and stumbled, enough time for Jess to jump forward, bringing her knee into the enemies stomach, than, for good measure, her fist into the masked face.
The Ninja went down for good. Jess stood over the body, breathing heavily. Bill couldnt believe they were still alive. Jess said:
“Nice move, Mister Eaton. Get some rope to secure this beast.”
Bill just nodded. The first gals as well as chinese sentries started to appear...


Restaurant “Parisian Memories”, Chicago, the same moment

Richard watched the about thirty ladies in their expensive clothing, hairstyles, makeup, shoes and boots, all wriggling on the floor in their tight bonds and mewing wideeyed in their gags. A very satisfying sight. A very fitting sight, he felt.
Well, the police had arrived. The show had to begin. He may end this day in custody, but he would send out a sign, a performance to remember.
The GUY looked out for his men, the waiter now among them. He stopped short. Where was Owen? Richard carefully stepped over a blonde in tighhigh red boots, her face nearly as red as the leather, and approached Arthur.
“Have you seen Owen?”
“No, Richard. You send him to check the toilets, remember?”
Richard laid a hand to his head, let out a sigh and murmured:
“Must I always think for us all?”
“Well, if you ask me this way, I...”
“Silence. Pleeeease.”
Arthur made a very stern face and bowed down to the wriggling and mewing blonde:
“Silence, girl, Richard has to think!”
Richard struggled for an impassive face. Breath, just breath, keep calm. Everything will be okay.
“Arthur, go and look out for Owen, will you, please? – Arthur... take the submachine gun with you, please.”
Arthur stopped in his tracks.
“Oh, yes, sure, Richard, sure.”
As Arthur left for the backrooms, Richard said to the booted blonde on the ground:
“Sometimes, I am so tired...”
“Mmmmpppff!”


The toilets, the restaurant, just a few moments later

Arthur finally found Owen, who sat, still unconscious, on a toilet, the door to the cabin suspiciously slightly ajar. The GUY was neatly packaged with unspectacular brown tape. His mate Arthur, clearly not the brightest male in Richards team, starred at Owen with obvious surprise. Slowly, thoughts emerged visibly on his face. Although he had time to finish his thoughts and reach the decision that a loud scream of alarm might be the right response to the situation at hand, he couldnt act on this decision, as a frying pan, which the late Lady Breckinridge had found in the kitchen alongside with the tape, hit him on the base of his skull, killing all thoughts, as few as there were, until further notice.
Bronwyn eyed Arthurs sbmachine gun with interest. These babies would have been a good tool back in the Argonnes, but probably the reliability in mud and snow was doubtful. Well, now there were two of the boys. That left four, including the treacherous waiter. Lady Breckinridge, DSO, nestled the frying pan into Owens lap and went to work with the tape on the other GUY.
Time to change the strategy. When she was finished with Arthur, who now occupied a second toilet, Lady Bronwyn raised her voice to let out a scream for help, obviously agitated and showing an old womans fear.
Deception is a legitimate move in combat, as a very much younger Bronwyn had learned at West Point long ago...


In the hand of a warrioress, even a frying pan can be an effective weapon...


... while a deadly weapon is useless when one lacks determinaton or the brains to use it properly.


“Parisian Memories”, the very same moment

Richard was on the phone to the police, reading a rather long prepared statement, trying to ignore the slightly dumb faces of his small army as well as the whimpering of the gagged ladies littering the floor, as the scream startled the GUYS. Something was clearly going wrong in the back, probably Owen and Arthur faced with a situation beyond their limited brain capacities. Richard interrupted his speech on the phone and said to the police lady on the other end:
“I beg your pardon, mylady, we have a small problem here, which will surely be solved in a nick of time. Would you be so kind to stand by, thank you.”
By default he had fallen back into his experience as a telephone receptionist, a students job at the Chicago Hilton some years into his past. Then, with steel in his voice, or so he would have described it himself, he ordered John, the waiter, and William, his second in command, to settle matters back there. The two left, with determined faces and white knuckles as they grabbed their guns tighter.
Back on the phone, Richard asked:
“Well, at which point did I stop? Ah, I have it know. Attention please, I will continue the statement...”


The toilets again, shortly later

John and William were clearly brighter than the first two, but it was to no avail, as Bronwyn had anticipated that. As they found the two others on the toilets, the old lady emerged behind them, the submachine gun at the ready.
“Freeze or die”, she growled.
The two males thought of themselves as armed and dangerous, ready to overthrow womans rule on the planet. But a situation like this they knew only from watching movies. Being addressed like out of such a movie, and a very bad one to boot, didnt exactly help. Before they could think of any course of action, the old dragon added:
“Drop the guns. And be quiet.”
Their male conditioning kicked in, causing both to obey automatically. Unarmed, they were gone for good. Bronwyn let one tape up the other, then finished the job on the second one herself.
Her strong grip while applying the tape to John convinced the young male to remain docile until it was too late.
The Breckinridge patted both guys on the taped cheeks and left. Now it was time to change strategy again. If you have the advantage, press it to the utmost. A thing the bloody Germans always did so dammned well...


Wai Choi Airfield, China, same moment

As shocked and rapidly getting furious american aviatrixes and likewise very agitated chinese lady soldiers swarmed the room, Bill tried to come to terms with the action just survived.
Meanwhile, only Jess seemed to be rather cool. A cut in her shoulder, previously unnoticed by Bill, let out some blood, will the leadress of the Tigresses calmy but thoroughly worked with the ropes someone had organized, using very much of it on the killress body and limbs. Jess had torn the strangers hood, revealing a very beautiful, and very japanese face of a rather young lady.
Finally satisfied, Jess leaned back, the japanese ninja now practically clad in thick white rope. Jess demanded and got two aviatrix scarfs and rolled one into a ball, shoving it into the slack mouth of the attacker, than securing it with the second one.
Meanwhile, the rage grow, and lynching was clearly an issue. The japanese had killed not only a sentry, and poor Cora van Fleet, no, she had torn in half the CAT, for the godess sake. An action destining her for eaternal hell in both american and chinese gals views.
Jess ignored the uproar and let Bill tend her rather harmless wound in the shoulder. From her heavy breathing, Bill suspected the kick into her bossom to be the more painfull attack.
Bill busied himself a while, offering Jess Jane Beam, a cigarette, giving her a light. Jess, usually smoking only occasionally, inhaled deeply.
“Okay. Would you all please stop this chitchat. No one will be lynched or shot right know, even this little beast.”
While Jess fought with the crowd, Bill noticed the japanese girl had regained consciousness. Other than in the movies, were bound and gagged heroines and villainesses alike immediately started wriggling and mewing uselessly, the Japanse remained totally calm, her dark eyes scanning the room. Bill had a slight chill in the spine watching those eyes.
Jess was discussing matters with the chinese captain, a moonfaced gal with bad teeth and very bad english. As Bill remained in the background, Jess fought her corner, finally succeeding. Kunming would be alarmed by phone, and an intelligence officress of the Kuomintang would pick the prisoner up for interrogation. If shot, she would be shot after a correct trial.
That settled, Jess sent the Chinese out of the barracks, as maybe even more Japs were around, and the Americans back to bed, naturally only after the bodies of Cora and the cat had been taken care of. The aviatrixes wouldnt sleep, but discuss the happenings over and over, Bill knew.
He stayed with Jess in the room, by the bound prisoner. Jess took up the bloody sword.
“You saved my life, Mr.Eaton. Thank you.”
Not Bill, not squire, Mister, a honour males seldom found granted to them. Jess seemed serious. Bill knew he was accepted in the end by this hard, strong chick. This felt good. Yes, it really did.
As if somehow reading his thoughts, the Japanese let out a single snort through her gag. If mocking him. He met her gaze. She wouldnt underestimate him a second time. Bill was very glad she would never get another chance...


This should hold the Ninja... really?


Across the street from “Parisian Memories”, same time

The Deltas had arrived on the scene, and Beyonce immediately took matters in hand. Maria Cipoletti remained with the other Delta chicks in the background. Male terrorists in Chicago! She had already dinned in this restaurant herself. And tying up and gagging the female guests – villains, no matter if male or female, had clearly taken a liking to this sport in recent years.
Altough tied up again and again by her japanese sensei, the one real thing for Maria had been the bondage done to her by the Skorzeny bitch. Quite naturally, the actual situation reminded her of her own experience, and of the blonde bitch.
What are you doing now, bitch? Probably doing mischief somewhere...


Palace of the daughter of the sun, Tokyo, Japan, only seconds later

Waltrauds brain simply denied ackknowledgement of developments. It couldnt be that the Skorzeny was going to fight with a sharp sword the japanese empress – to the first blood!
The empress was mean and nasty, and beheading a german Oberst would surely harm relations with the Reich. Worse, if Skorzeny managed to wound the little beast, the daughter of the sun might easily have them both beheaded and declare war on Germany.
A catastrophe, no matter which way you saw it. All objections by her as well as the assembled japanese lackeys were to no avail.
Now, the empress and Skorzeny faced each other, Skorzeny in her grey uniform with black boots and gloves, the japanese girl in a white gownlike cloth. Waltraud wanted to avert her eyes, but they were glued to the scene.
Both bowed deeply. Then, suddenly, the empress katana thrust forward like a biting snake. A crash of steel, Skorzeny parried. The following fight was too fast for someone like Waltraud to follow. Three, four times the swords met, then, both parted, looking grimly at each other.
Red appeared on the white of the empress garnment, on her left forearm.
By the godess! What would happen now?
Waltraud saw her precious life in acute danger, as well as the relations between the empire of Japan and the German Reich damaged beyond repair. The assembled Japanese watched in total silence, their faces impassive. The ambassadoress knew full well what they were thinking: Never, anyone had dared to injure the daughter of the sun, spill her precious blood. The tall blonde foreign devil would be boiled in oil, something that happened here before.
Skorzeny again bowed deeply, than stand at easy, blood dripping from her katana.
Hirohita starred at her, then at her bleeding forearm. Slowly, she raised the injured arm, her little pink tongue coming out and starting to lick up blood, her eyes blazing.
“You will visit my sleeping quarters tonight. I will take sweet revenge for this defeat.”
Waltraud and the assembly let out a collective sigh. What was that?
Skorzeny bowed once more.
“As you wish.”
A few minutes later, Waltraud and the Skorzeny left the palace, still alive.
“I couldnt believe this. You injure the empress, and she wants to have sex with you as a consequence. For all the years here, I never learned to really understand the yellow monkeys.”
Skorzeny smiled dryly.


The empress with her favourite toy.


“Parisian Memories”, same time

Richard and Greg, the last remaining GUYS, surely didnt expect an old woman in very oldfashioned, conservative clothes to enter the restaurant from the back, carrying one of their submachineguns, and Owens gun tucked under her belt.
The old dragon looked stern, like a teacher back in their school days. Greg gulped and made three steps back, until stopped by the wriggling body of a black gal in yellow garnments and boots on the ground.
Richard suppressed the urge to wipe his eyes.
“Look, boy, I had a very bad day so far. I usually refrain from harming males, children and pet animals, but I am tempted to pull the trigger and blast you to hell right now. So be a good boy and drop that gun, will you?”
“What, who, why....?”
Richards eloquence was failing him at last. That couldnt be happening, this was not real. He didnt move, just starred at the old lady. Greg eyed the weapon in the clawlike hands of Bronwyn. The muzzle of the gun lokked like a meter wide, pointed directly at him alone. Gred pissed his pants and dropped his gun.
Bronwyn growled, with all the authority of someone who had lead personally her brave chicks into german machinegun fire more than once:
“Drop that gun. NOW!”
In a kind of trance, Richard obeyed. His believes and ideology had taken a heavy beating in the last seconds. For males to overthrow womans rule, the time was clearly not right, as long as women like these dragon exist.
Bronwyn allowed herself a smile. Well, that was easy. Nothing like the Krauts back then...


Richard, the man with a plan. It failed.


Wai Choi Airfield, China, about the same time

The intelligence officress from Kunming arrived quickly, together with a dozend fierce looking armed guards. Bill remained silent, while Jess spoke with the chinese gal, whose english was excellent.
In the end, two Chinese grabbed the packaged Japanese and carried her outside to the waiting truck, and the gals left.
Jess allowed herself another Jane Beam and said:
“The Japanese seem determined to take us out. But they should have sent more than one gal. Perhaps next time. Our guard force here will be doubled. And I will order all gals to carry a personal sidearm with them all the times. Ever shot with a gun?”
“No, Jess, but I learn quickly.”
Bill didnt say that he abhorred of guns. He still thought about the japanese killress. The look in her eyes as she was carried out like a sack of grain...
No, she wasnt dangerous any more. He must get her out of his mind.


Outside “Parisian Memories”, Chicago, a few moments later, 13.42 hours local time, January 13th, 1939

“So we go in from the roof, section 1 will...”
Amy was amidst her briefing for the mission, and Maria listened intently, as this would be her very first real delta mission after all the endless training.
Suddenly, heads turned all around to the restaurant across the street.
In the door, a very old lady appeared, the sun of the clear winter day reflecting from her huge glasses. She called out to police, Deltas and the crowd behind the perimeter:
“Okay, girls, everything settled, you can come in now.”
“What the hell...”, Amy blurted.
Maria shook her head. What was that?
“Come on in, will you? I cant untie 30 gals myself. My back is killing me, and some of the ladies might need a visit to the toilet. Looking at their red faces, its about time the get rid of their gags too.”
Slowly, police and Deltas started to approach the restaurant, clearly a bit stunned. Maria took a last drag of her Marlboro, killed it under her boot and followed the others. Amys eyes were going wide and she said:
“I dont believe it. Its the Breckinridge!”
Maria let out:
“Who is the Breckinridge? What is going on?”
Three minutes later, Maria knew who “the Breckinridge” was, and she and others were inside the restaurant. While some gals took care of the six male terrorists, others, including Maria, started to free the guests and staff.
Beyonce and Amy were at the bar, chatting with the old lady, who seemed very pleased with herself. Amy grinned widely, while Beyonce looked a bit overwhelmed.
Maria settled down near a pretty young blonde in extravagant shiny red overknee boots and went to work on her. Altough relief was ahead, the blonde still struggled and mewed heavily into her gag. Maria loosened the scarf and started to pull the rubberball from the girls gaping mouth. Suddenly, at the bar, the Breckinridge was getting agitated, shouting out to Maria in clear alarm, if not horror:
“No, not her gag!”
But it was too late...

[lifeless]

excellent! things in japan sure are getting spicy!

[GrimReaper]

His mate Arthur, clearly not the brightest male in Richards team, starred at Owen with obvious surprise. Slowly, thoughts emerged visibly on his face. Although he had time to finish his thoughts and reach the decision that a loud scream of alarm might be the right response to the situation at hand, he couldnt act on this decision, as a frying pan, which the late Lady Breckinridge had found in the kitchen alongside with the tape, hit him on the base of his skull, killing all thoughts, as few as there were, until further notice.

Outstanding passage!

[Amona]

XXVII – B DIE HARDS EPILOGUE

Wai Choi Airfield, near Kunming, Free China, January 14th, 1939, 10.08 hours

To his own astonishment, Bill had slept very well, and rather long. His was, as the only male, a small cabin for his own, a luxury apart from him only Jess Sumers indulged in.
Still half asleep as usual, he stumbled to the rest room, looking for humans fuel – morning coffee. About ten aviatrixes were assembled there, including Jess. All looked rather grim, Jess even seemed worried.
Bill stopped in his tracks and asked:
“Whats the matter? Dont say theres no more coffee...”
No one laughed. Jess broke the gals silence:
“The truck bringing the killress to Kunming was found at dawn, parked on the street. The intelligence officress, the twelve guards and the drivress all killed with bare hands, the prisoners ropes in uncut toils on the ground, the bitch gone.”
Bill felt an icy hand grip his heart. Suddenly he remembered the japanese chick gaze on him as she was carried outside.
He managed to clear his throat:
“She will be coming back for us.”
Jess just nodded.

[lifeless]

the gaze of death!