IMF, Sexy Queens, Robots and Executive Powers

http://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/dp/2010/dp1004.pdf

The above document is essential reading if you indeed want to know the extent of the grip the International Monetary Fund has on national will and sovereignty. This is is a current crisis that we are in the world over, and on the long run, I wonder what will pan out. In my book, Robotic Nadia is a metaphor of the world system of governance.

Enjoy my latest scene. I must note that the posts are no longer in the order that the book goes, for I must protect the plot until it is indeed on the market. I'm simply teasing you.

*******

Nadia sat in the vast manufacturing facility, in the secure section of the service area, receiving modifications. Her memory capacity was immensely boosted, and her programs given new improved encryption. New mildly addictive drugs were loaded in her too, those what would applied to her target human.

Once some of the work done on her was done, her human side would awaken, and she was taken to a luxurious suite for the evening. She would watch tv, eat, enjoy a message or buy clothes online. Sometimes she was called to Wilcox’s rooms for briefing and training, and entertainments. This was her routine now.

Today, once she left the maintence bay, she joined Wilcox and was shown satellite images of a pair of SUVs moving across Southern Bavaria, towards Liechtenstein.

“What do you pick up in those cars, Nadia?”

She stood silently a moment, and then, “Only small talk. Stephan is watching a soccer match.”

Wilcox looked over her, doubting that. It couldn’t be. Stephan had some sort of intent, if he was riding in security SUV’s with special windows, and not simply blasting along in his personal vehicle, having security simply chase him in a chase car.

Wilcox’s assistant switched to a satellite view of Queen Helena’s residential palace, in Athens. Nadia could see Helena sitting outside with her ice tea and cookies, reading a book.

“What is Helena reading?”

“A romance novel of some kind.” Nadia answered.

“No way. She doesn’t even read those. She’s a serious woman.”

An intelligence guy chimed in, “In fact, she does.”

“Really? Romance novels?” Wilcox’s brows lifted.

“Yessir.”

Wilcox couldn’t help himself, and laughed hardily.

The intelligence guy added, “She’s actually a romantic. She just doesn’t show it publically.”

“Wow. I would have never guessed it.”

Nadia made a little laugh. Wilcox was so socially inept - it was funny.

“Nadia, what kind of music is the queen listening to?”

“Country music from the US.”

“What artist?”

“Right now it’s Willy Nelson. It was Sugarland before that.”

“That seems right. She does enjoy country and blues, and loves Willy Nelson. I’ve heard her play it in her suites during Davos meetings. I guess that’s accurate enough. But I don’t think we’re ready at all, Nadia. I’m not sure Stephan is just watching a soccer match right now. He hates that team that’s on now.”

Nadia nodded obediently. Indeed she was a fine robot. Just needs a tune up, that’s all.

#

Queen Helena sat with her croissants and iced coffee, reading the Financial Times, some unclassified military reports and people magazine. She enjoyed the rowdy lyrics of military action that only Toby Keith could belt out. She then doodled out some thoughts, making notes. It was a quiet day, and a much needed quiet day.

Helena wondered if this was the quiet before the storm. She instinctively sensed that the rebellion whispered about in certain halls of power was about to be ramped up a notch. She thought on Stephan and his talks with Karl and how that will go. She’ll soon head out to the airport, and take off in her jet to join them.

It was then time to get back to work, after this break. Helena went back inside, up stairs and did some finishing touches on some commentaries on legislation.

Before she knew it, her workday was done.

In her residential wing, she prepared for her trip, picking out things to take with her.

“Hey honey!”

Helen turned and smiled at her husband. He was returning from his own workday, which was running his successful publishing company.

“Hi sweetie, how was your day?”

“Hectic. But everything went well.”

“Mine was quiet. Not much going on. Say, I’ll be back from this trip in a few days, perhaps we can escape for the weekend if you have time.”

He smiled brightly, and happily, “For you, I’ll make all the time in the world.”

“Really?”

“Come here.”

She did, and he gave her a good kiss. He playfully lifted her up. She loved it.

He put her down and said, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

They began to exchange kisses, and did so very tenderly, then growing into intensity.

He looked into her eyes, “Do you have time to …”

“Yes. Let’s.”

He picked her up again, carried her into the next room, and she made a little laugh.

He set her down on their bed gently, and started those kisses all over again. He loved that romantic heart of hers, and good God all mighty, was she ever sexy as hell. One hundred percent woman! He lucked out meeting her years ago, hitting on her, getting a date, not knowing he was hitting on the Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Greece.

Hell, within just one date, before knowing who she really was, he had fallen for her, and she for him.

It wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies though. They had their imperfections, and got on each other’s nerves sometimes. She had a mind of her own, and was stubborn, and he was often bossy and opinionated. Sometimes they bickered over the stupidest things, and occasionally fought over what they thought was important.

Helena never let him really boss her, for she was well aware who and what she was. She simply deftly skipped around that, maneuvering with expertise. She was a master of that sort of thing. One thing she wisely did was to listen to his opinions, and she let him rant about the things that annoyed him. Once he had his rant about some dumb assed liberal politician or something in the news, he was happy.

Her opinions on politicians differed from his, that’s for sure. And she was less reactive, and she had to be.

Shit, she heard politics almost all day long, or like today, at least half the day. She was well used to it. Her own personal opinions or that of her lively talkative husband never factored into her work as Monarch.

Helena was a good natured and happy person, for the most part, and that was a big positive between the two of them, and she was supportive of his goals - and the biggest thing, was that he gave her a ton of satisfaction in bed.

And that was what now was going on. He undressed her, and then himself, and they took their time with each other’s delights.

Robots Threat to Humankind and Incentive to Innovate

Followed by his own security guy, Stephan ran to his first engineering class for the day, his ear to his phone again. He hauled on the classroom door against a bit of icy snow, insisting to his new additional guard that he preferred to handle his own doors.

“Ah pardon me, Mr. Ambassador, I must go now. I’m in class now. I’ll call you after classes. I’m sure we can work out a trade agreement. My country will indeed develop a leading edge hi tech economy. Indeed. I’ll talk to my Prime Minister.”

Stephan clicked off his phone and stuffed it away.

“Mr. Coburg, you’re late.”

“Ah, sorry about that, Herr Professor.”

“I’ll have a talk with you after class. You can’t let your, er, ah. -“

“My job.-“

Chuckles and snorts throughout the room.

“Ah, yes, thank you. Job. Please do not let your job effect your work here.”

“Certainly, Mr. Hildebrand.”

More classroom chuckles. This was a real hoot.

“Now go on and get to work with your team, please. Don’t be late again.”

Stephan blushed slightly, embarrassed. He felt all eyes on him as he crossed the room to the project he was working on. He was damned glad he had just intercepted the professor’s words before the word monarchy came out.

Shit.

As he pulled out some readouts and virtual blue prints he did up the night before, Stephan got some ribbing from another team.

Another student mocked, “Ah, Pardon me, Mr. Ambassador, I’m in class now!”

Another, “Oh, yes, his job…”

More chortles.

“A monarchy for a job!”

The chortles continued.

Stephan brushed it all aside and pulled out more items from his book bag, including CAD readouts that now projected above his team in 3D much like the older holograms from decades ago. This projection was much better than a mere hologram, this one appeared real and solid. Stephan’s teammates looked over the 3D mock up image, discussing it. The 3D image was soon hooked up wirelessly to a 3D modeling machine, and it began carving out a solid plastic model. Stephan fucking loved Autocad Version 1011.3.

One team member commented, “Not bad, Stephan. But don’t you think we should re-enforce those stingers right here?”

Stephan answered, “It would be a weight problem then.”

“Not with nanopolyhydropoxy.”

“Viscosity problems.” Stephan countered.

“How about some age old solutions.”

“Like aluminum?”

“Something like that.”

Confidently Stephan said, “Too much risk for pitting and corrosion under the wet conditions on comets. Remember what was pointed out in Metallurgy class.”

“Good point.”

Another teammate chimed in, “How about carbon fiber?”

Stephan enthused, a wee bit loudly, “Now that may an option! Oh yes! Carbon fiber!”

From another team, the one persistently teasing him, yet another mock, “Oh yes! Carbon fiber. Like my Lamborghini!”

Stephan gave the guy a playful middle finger with a wag of his head.

Lot’s of laughter now.

In class, Stephan never talked about his things of wealth or about his monarchy. He kept everything low key and as professional as possible. He insisted on merit in the classroom, and in just about everything in life in general. It wasn’t easy, but he was determined on simple merit alone. And he was not without his humor on that.

“Hey Stephan, why don’t you re-design those energy sucking Italian cars of yours?”

Stephan looked up from his project, “You want to know the truth of it?” He paused, engaging eyes, then he delivered, “I am redesigning them so that we may well go back on independent fuels, as we nearly achieved a few centuries ago. I’m doing so, so that we no longer have to depend on Federation fuels. We need to override Federation laws preventing us from using free energy that’s within the very vacuum of space.”

The room listened, other then the one doing most of the teasing. The professor looked on, watching carefully how Stephan handled with challenge.

The mocker shot back, “Ah come on, Stephan, you’re a dreamer! You know those laws can’t be lifted, because they’re in place to prevent runaway consumption and run away industry. The earth can’t sustain it if that happened.”

“Indeed I’m a dreamer.” Stephan said with a subtle smile, a straight yet relaxed back and engaging eye contact.

Stephan waited for the right moment, allowing for the room to think a bit. He then said, “With strong leadership, we indeed can manage free energy without harming the planet. The world needs dreamers again. It is is essential that we start innovating again, and beyond the usual status quo. We have allowed ourselves to become stale, while having the Federation take care of our every need.”

There was silence in the room. The professor was nervous about the political nature of those words, especially in his classroom. He could have cut in to stop it, as was the norm these days. He didn’t. This dynamic was interesting, and revealed what Stephan may be planning to do with his engineering skills within his monarchy.

Finally, a rather serious young man spoke up, “Isn’t it our job as engineers to innovate? That’s what we’re doing right now, look at all these projects.”

Stephan answered, “It’s not enough. Excuse me, Herr Professor for saying that. It all in due respect.”

“No Problem, Mr. Coburg. Ok, class, I think this is a good time to talk about the nature of innovation and incentive. Now, Mr. Coburg, please explain why you feel we do not have enough innovation these days. Let’s keep this discussion free flowing just like our brain storming sessions. As is policy, please treat Coburg as a fellow, like yourselves. Ok, Coburg, it’s your turn to be on the hot seat.”

Oh shit, Stephan was now on the hot seat. He fell back on his training in public speaking, internally calming himself, although a tad nervous because his grades will be affected by his performance and display of knowledge. He drew in air and slowly let it out, imagining that crystalline air travelling up and down his straight back, from the crown of his head to the balls of his feet and back.

“Go on, Mr. Coburg. Listen up class!”

“Ok, Herr Professor. Of course we’re inventing, problem solving and innovating right here in this school, and we will once we’re out there in our careers. Our inventions and designs are meant to make life easier and to benefit humanity. There’s a problem though. There is no real incentive to push things into radically new realms, and no one is being fully rewarded for thinking outside the box.”

A tall sandy haired guy called out, “But why is there a need for thinking outside the box? Things are fine as they are. Life is confortable for most people.”

Stephan answered, “It’s not about mere comfort. It’s not about the latest fast train, the smartest phone, the coldest air conditioner or the smoothest suspension system. It about real problem solving, such as expanding our presence in space, finding cost effective building materials, ways of building that does not cut into the wilderness, having a means of keeping our robots from out doing us, and of course, solving our ever present transportation problems.”

“You mention our robots overcoming us, which is a strong possibility. But how do you prevent that from happening?”

“By placing failsafe systems in them that prevent them from ever becoming self perpetuating, self manufacturing, issues like that. Also by legally limiting the number of them that can be built, and then, most importantly, to stop placing brain implants in humans. Turning humans into near robots is inhumane. It also causes for the risk of evolution taking off with robots. Nature and machine should not be mixed like that. It can easily spin out of control. We’ve grown too content to even address such risks. We like our robots to do very special things for us.”

“Wow!” Someone exclaimed.

Stephan looked around the room, then said, “Our comforts has caused us to become too content.”

“But you live a very comfortable life, Stephan. Many more comforts than the rest of us.”

“Indeed I most certainly do, and I’m grateful for it.”

“Doesn’t your comfort lead to your own contentment?”

Another student said, “Obviously Stephan is not content. Look at his recent power grab.”

A few people agreed.

Someone who was a member of the lower aristocracy, and with a modest income asked, “Why aren’t you just happy and content with what you already have? Most wealthy aristocrats like you are glad to quietly enjoy their comforts.”

Stephan smiled gently, “Because I see exactly what we’re capable of. We can accomplish so much if free to do so, and have the incentive to push things forward. We need to break out of this whole zero growth bullshit we’ve been in over the past 300 years.”

“Mr. Coburg, keep your language professional, please.”

“Pardon me, Herr Professor. Sorry about that.”

The class went into uproarious laughter.

Here is a guy that’s a reigning king, and he’s so fucking human.

Someone asked, “What kind of incentives are you thinking about?”

Stephan answered, “Let’s put the ball in your court. You tell us what you think that incentive should be. How would you like to be rewarded as an engineer, if you were to solve a major problem for humanity?”

The professor’s brows lifted in interest. He liked that move on Stephan’s part. The kid is a real pro at discussion.

The other student answered Stephan, “Recognition, of course!”

“Not enough. Mere recognition is not enough to drive true innovation. We have people displayed on all kinds of bronzes, billboards, commercials, banners, train terminals, plaques and such, all called heroes for their accomplishments. Our accomplished people are lost in a sea of other state heroes. But how are you living? Is your accomplishment going to change the way you and your family live? Sure, you may become a state hero, but no matter what you invent, you’ll still live in a high rise, limited on what you can consume, probably not allowed to have a large dog, probably not allotted a car, not able to save up enough to start your own business. So why then innovate?” Stephan gestured to another student, as he heard murmurs throughout the class.

He asked the other student, a young lady, “What do you think the incentive should be?”

The girl answered, “A secure job, a secure life. Stability.”

“No, not enough. Again, we’re back at simply being content and passive. No real drive to find new frontiers, no drive and no risk taking that’s needed to bust limitations. And you, over there, what would push you to bust limitations?”

The other guy looked at Stephan squarely in the eye, “If I knew I can create a rich life like yours, I’d reinvent the entire world! If I had my own business, and created machines that people really wanted, and could get rich, I’d go the extra mile. I would want to work longer hours.”

“And what is it about being rich that would drive you?”

“The ability to influence the community, send my kids to the best schools, help build a church or a school – and have fun! Look at you, you seem to have a lot of fun!”

“Indeed I do have my fun. Because of the chance to create wealth, to have it and to enjoy it, I tend to work hard and play hard. I have big dreams, and am driven to create and use wealth to manifest those dreams.”

“But you’re born into wealth. You don’t need to work so hard.”

“I don’t need to work hard indeed. If I didn’t have big dreams, I probably wouldn’t work as hard as I do. But I know that not much is accomplished without funding, and I’m ambitious.”

“I don’t get it. Why even work. You’re a billionaire, right?”

“I am. But my funds are tightly controlled and highly invested in land and industry. I actually live on an allotment of about a quarter million a year, and then on whatever I earn from my businesses. Even those earnings are highly controlled until I’m fully matured. I take no pay from my kingdom. I refuse to.”

“Wow!” someone exclaimed.

“He sounds like a Republican! Taking no government money!”

Stephan laughed, and gave that guy a thumbs up, and went on, “I’m not allowed to vote, because my job now, being a monarch, but that’s a good one, Peter. Anyways, it really paid off for me to start some businesses. I started my first while still in high school, with only a hundred thousand and it has grown to a net worth of a hundred million. It’s a quantum computing company. That’s just one of them. I can’t encourage people enough to own their own business.”

“Where do you find time to run them, and do all the other things you’re doing?”

“Like this morning,” Stephan looked the professor’s way, “time is always an issue. I hire MBAs to manage my businesses. I give them a very good incentive, which is a percentage of the earnings. That alone drives innovation, and we’re coming up with some pretty cool tech. But I don’t run them personally anymore. I don’t have time.”

Another student said, “Only certain people as approved by the Federation are allowed to own a business. Everything else is a corporate collective.”

Stephan said in a re-assuring voice, “And that needs to be changed. I’m working on that one, at least in my country.”

“You’re using your position as King to push along free enterprise!”

“Right!”

The professor now spoke, “Ok, I think that makes a good stopping point, because that makes a good conclusion. This has been a very good hot seat, Mr. Coburg. This is the first time you have spoken freely about your monarchy and about your wealth. I know you don’t like talking about it in class, so I have to thank you for opening up.”

“It’s my pleasure Herr Professor, and all of you.”

Stephan was greatly relieved when he was off the hot seat, and gladly went back to his team’s project. Everyone in that class had their moments on the hot seat, but never on something like this. It was usually about mechanical problems, cost effective materials or project management issues. Not revolutionary capitalism and monarchy.

Trailer for House of Mirrors and Invading Helicopters

Here is a movie my friend Jeremiah Saint stars in, and some of my friends and film business co-workers have worked on. This was just shot in Palm Springs, CA. Enjoy.

Meanwhile, I am writing quite a thriller scene in the Diablo Diaries, and have been writing for hours.

The scene I wrote below can very well happen to Americans and others throughout the world at any time. UN Agenda 21 is a real thing, and not the stuff on crazy conspiracies. There are plans to re-organize rural areas, and there is a planned land grab that is already taking place in some areas as I say this. It is indeed a good possibility that we will see attack helicopters that will clear out independently living and thinking people.

***********

Still sitting on the rail, in the cool night air, waiting for Stephan to return, I began to hear a strange sound. It was a distant beating roar. It grew, and it came from the west. It sounded like something large was approaching. Indeed it was! Immediately I ran to the garage and tossed my diaries into Stephan’s Lambo, and then bolted to the house. I slid over the tiles and wood of the floors, heading for the drawing room. Mom was not there, and so I took off for the far kitchen, clear on the other side of the house. There she was.

“Mom! What’s that noise outside?”

“Honey, I can’t hear it so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It sounds like a far away beating sound…”

Mom immediately stopped one of her epic cooking projects she was engaged in. She went outside and indeed heard a distinctive sound.

“Louisa! You know the drill, baby! Hurry! Run off into the woods. Go! Now!” She then called out loudly, “Security! General alarm!”

Mom ran into the house, hit the alarms, and grabbed an arm full of thermal shields, and handed me one. She then grabbed a couple of guns and some ammo, those that were always by our doors. Our security men dashed to our sides, pulling out their own weapons and thermal shields, checking them over. Mom pointed to in the direction where I was to run.

“Don’t just stand there, Louisa! Go! You’re a target too, you’re heir to the throne!”

“Mom, the Lamborghini! They won’t detect you and I in it!”

“They’ll see us if they search the garage. Now go!”

Mom signaled a guard to scoop me up, and he took off with me in his arm, and in a dead run for the tall fir forest, as I cried out. “Mom!”

Indeed our little family was now split up and spread out, making as much distance from the house and each other as possible, wearing hooded coveralls designed to block any heat seeking devices, and to scramble Federation implant scanners for at least a dozen minutes, maybe more, if engineer-king Stephan was indeed successful at improving them.

I looked back as Mom and a couple of security men set the horses free, along with other livestock. It was all a part of an escape plan. I heard the distinct sound of Stephan’s Lambo as a guard sped off with it, probably taking state documents, and a few national and monarchy treasures to safety. He struggled with the old fashioned centuries ago clutch, but managed to get the car into high gear.

I sobbed and cried while being carried from home grounds and into the forest,

“Your Highness, Quiet!” The big bodyguard commanded, “You can’t cry right now.”

He continued to carry me deeper into the woods, and then finally set me down, keeping a firm grip on my wrist to save me from my own mistakes. He now had his gun drawn, and he checked over the defensive tools he had on hand. He handed me a weapon, one I was well trained to use. It was a small and easy to aim handgun. I also had a knife with me, something I had on me at all times. He reminded me about the use of safety on the pistol, and how to take it off safety. I knew about that already, but this was standard procedure. I stuffed the handgun away where I could easily reach it.

“Ok, Your Highness, you know the way to your hiding place. I’ll follow. I’m right here with you, ok? Let’s go!”

Overhead, and not far away, the thumping sound was deafening.

“I’m scared.” I said.

“Come on, just go! Now! Or I’ll have to carry you again! It’s quicker if you lead the way. So be quiet, and go!”

I nodded and swallowed my sobs, knowing well that we could not well afford tears right now, even if only eight years old. I had been well briefed and drilled on matters of personal security.

Such is the monarchy business - in a time of the near absence of national sovereignty …

I now simply took off in a mad run that only kids can do, bobbing and ducking through the underbrush, my bodyguard playing hell keeping up, but doing so at all costs.

Indeed I knew these woods by heart, even those that did not belong to our vast estate. This was the extended backyard of Stephan, relatives, friends, neighbors, local hunters and I.

We were unique in that we did not live in the designated ghetto-like high rise human habitat zones as dictated by the World Federation long ago, in some remote UN Agenda. I forget which Agenda it was, but it was the start of our present day hell. That Agenda sort of sneaked up on an unaware and indifferent population that was addicted to chemicals, bad food and television.

Many of us broke the rules, and continued to live in the countryside, which was now made up of scarce farms, a few villages, rebel shanties and the vast estates of the select elite, including ours, and then a vast wilderness.

I took to a pile of limestone boulders, and on hands and knees, peeked over a log at the distant Alps. That was where we were going, for I did not trust my usual hiding place. I then took to another rocky outcrop, and looked back at the house. I almost let out a cry.

My security guy stopped my sound with his hand.

The house was ablaze on one wing, and already some of our staff lay dead.

Once I regained myself, he signaled for us to take off again. Again I dove into the deep woods, leading the way to neutral territory, a place that threatened financial warfare on Chairman Wilcox all the time, and a place that would hold all his gold and bearer notes captive, on some far off asteroid, if need be. He dare not attack that little nation, for Wilcox depended completely on all his financials. This little nation had been at this sort of monetary warfare for centuries, along with making people full on rich cheese, spicy pizza and chocolate, and famed for saving some Rembrandts from the hazards of tyranny, barbarity and greed.

Sexy Leather Clad Nadia and Fighter Intercept of King in Gulfstream

Here I split up the previous post, so that you have a chance to jump right into the sexy part of the last post, and get a bit of steam early on. If you want to get into the technical aspects of Stephan's new monarchy, here it is, and not without it's sexy leather clad Nadia giving the tease, and the excitement of a fighter intercept of Stephan's Gulfstream jet.

I took some holiday time off, and in that time have written more. Right now I'm going back through what I have already written to fine tune it. This post is a part of a rewrite from an earlier post.

#

Stephan looked out the window emotionally, and took in the details of the ground below him. This was the first time he had ever laid eyes on his home country. He then heard the plane’s secure phone go off. He picked it up.

“Your Majesty, what do you think your doing?”

“Ah, Your Majesty, just flying over what should be my God damned fucking kingdom. I simply want to see it personally. It’s a sort of protest, really. A way of saying fuck you to the Federation.”

“I have the Montenegran Prime Minister on conference call with us. His Excellency can hear you. I’d like you to tell him personally your intent.”

Stephan was suddenly embarrassed.

He said, now suddenly in deportment mode, concealing just how embarrassed he was, addressing his Prime Minister, “Ah, please excuse my language, Your Excellency. I do promise you that you won’t have to hear that sort of language from me, when working with me. That’s simply language between my good friends and me. Also, I do respect your government during this change to a monarchy.”

“No problem, Your Majes – ah, Your Royal Highness. We’ve had our fair share of conversations, and you always been quite clean.”

Stephan caught that slip. His Prime Minister damned near called him Majesty. The PM knew that Stephan was indeed the legitimate King, via a general referendum by the people. The nation was presently being economically crushed by the World Federation, and any means to hold onto national sovereignty was now critical.

Stephan said, “I’ll get right to the point and assure you that I have no intent of landing without your green light. Even from this plane, I can see the troop build up to the East. My landing on my own soil may well cause for troop movement. I don't want that. This is not an act against the Montenegran government, but against the World Federation. The reason I won the referendum is because the people agree with my stance for maintained national sovereignty. As you know I stand for basic human rights too. Our people want that.”

“Well, this airspace breech is about to hit the news, and the people are bound to react. I hope it doesn’t get them into the streets.”

“If they do, it’s a good thing.”

“We need to keep the peace, and not have protests.”

“Well, do treat the protestors kindly, please. No violence. I will appeal to them even from this jet over this phone if necessary.”

“Ah, that’s the problem, Sir , you’re a big influence on them.”

“Most certainly. That gives the monarchy more legitimacy.”

Shit, the Prime Minister just called Stephan Sir. That was a sudden change of mode of address indeed. Only the King is addressed Sir.

Something glinted in Stephan’s peripheral vision. He looked out the porthole. He saw the fighters as they lifted into view off each wing. They were bristling with weapons.

******

Stephan’s sexy companion, Nadia, all dressed up in her butter soft Gucci leather moved next to him, and grabbed his arm tight with a gasp. That excited him even more. She’s sexier than hell when she’s scared, breathing hard next to him, and of course she’s turned on by the moment - the regional power struggle and dangerous airborne thrill…

Stephan loved scaring her in his Lamborghini, getting her all hot, and then fucking the hell out of her. Right now was not the time, for this was a full blown international incident, not just breaking the speed limit in a car.

Why in the hell is she along for the ride, anyhow? How did she get onboard this risky flight? If Stephan were to land in his kingdom, having her at his side would look bad.

Shit. The intercom went off, the captain ordered, “Buckle up, Your Majesty! We've got company.”

"Ok, Captain."

Shit, he’s called Majesty just now. Holy crap, fighter jets off the wings of the Gulfstream!

Queen Helena heard that through the phone, “What’s going on?”

Stephan answered, “Fighters.”

The Prime Minister, ”Shit. Ah pardon my reaction, Your Majesties…”

Stephan tightened his seat belt. His chest pounded, but the fear was simply just that. This is an adventure. The Prime Minister was firing off apologies.

“Ma'am, Sir, I didn’t order those jets up. This is a Federation call. I’m very sorry, but we have to comply with the World Federation, and not allow His Majesty to enter and officially take office. The Federation is acting on this now.”

Stephan Commanded, “Your Excellency, call off the jets.”

“I’m afraid I can’t exactly do that.”

The pilot called over the intercom, “They’re weapons hot, Sir.”

Stephan responded, “Hold on, please, Captain, I’ve got the PM on! Your Excellency, call off the fighters.”

“Right now, if you were to land, you would be breeching World Federation law. It would be a very complicated problem then, being that you’re not technically completely the King, and yet legitimized by direct referendum, so basically King by popular vote. You need to sign your Letter of Sovereign Intent, on domestic soil, with the approval of the World Federation and our own Parliament.”

“A proposal for the direct referendum, long before the people's vote was cast, was already approved by Parliament. That makes me King, once the Letter of Intent is signed. Even before, via popular will. Just FAX the Intent to me to this plane.”

“I can’t, Sir. Federation law.”

“So, Your Excellency, if I were indeed to land, then what? Do I sign my Letter of Sovereign Intent and complete to process of becoming King?”

“By Federation law, we would have to arrest you Your Majesty.”

“I have diplomatic and sovereign immunity, you can’t arrest me for setting foot on Montenegran soil.”

“If it’s deemed some kind of coup, yes we can.”

“Visiting one’s own country doesn’t make it coup.”

“If the people take to the streets in support of you, and demand that you stay and take office – that’s inciting civil unrest with the intent of changing the administration.”

Stephan said, “You’ve got a point, for the people do support the monarchy strongly, and are a bit unruly right now. Say, how do you feel about the World Federation, and how it takes away your powers as Prime Minister?”

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it. They paid for my campaign. They’ll assure whether I’m reelected or not.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t feel good being jerked around does it? So I’m sure you can understand how I feel having to simply fly by my country on the day after the referendum. Call off the jets, or at least have them switch off their weapons.”

Stephan had to gently push back horny scared Nadia, mouthing for her to settle down. Hell, she was all over him with her hands in her sexual excitement. He repeated, to Nadia in a whisper, holding her back now firmly, strongly gripping her arm:

“Stop! No!”

Good God, Nadia’s trying to ravish the very man that just won a popular vote to restore his monarchy - A budding king, mind you. Leave me alone, Nadia. Please. Hand away from my fly.

The whole time, Stephan managed to keep the phone to his ear, and microphone covered. He also managed to slide the another blind for privacy from the fighters not far away.

Queen Helena added, addressing the PM, pretending not to hear Stephan’s onboard struggle, the PM assuming it was simply unruly children on board, “This will involve Greece too, if the weapons remain hot, as the plane Prince Stephan is on belongs to Greece. That’s my plane your fighters intercepted. I do hope you understand the ramifications of threatening the Kingdom of Greece’s plane. Have the fighters switch their weapons off and fly ahead of us, and never behind. I have my Defense Minister on standby.”

On the ground, in the Montenergran capital, that Prime Minister fumbled with his own damned phone lines, jabbing a sea of buttons, finally getting his own Defense Minister on. His heart beat like hell. He was messing up big time with his future king, or perhaps present king, depending of course, on how you interpreted the law. He was in hot water too with his neighboring leader the Queen of Greece, not to mention the World Federation, and it’s brutal Chairman, Richard William Wilcox.

Queen Helena reinforced, “Weapons off, please, Your Excellency.”

Prince Stephan lifted up the blind, stared out of his porthole at the fighters, and one of the fighter pilots turned his helmeted head and actually looked back at Stephan. They exchanged the gaze a while.

Stephan Saluted the pilot, and the pilot saluted back. The pilot then lifted his visor, and gave Stephan a head nod, in a sort of bow. Stephan got it.

It gave Stephan a sobering, but trusting feeling. Intuitively, he felt good about the situation. The pilots were White Hats! They're on his side.

Stephan unbuckled and went up to the cockpit, "Captain let me have the headset."

"Yes Sir."

Stephan slid the headset on and said, "Attention flight of fighters escorting Gulfstream Hotel Bravo Bravo with the Royal Markings of the Kingdom of Greece. This is King Stephan of Montenegro. Day code Dawning Leap. I've shown my face and will do so again for your further confirmation. I'm the sovereign of this airspace, and I command you to take your weapons off of ready, and fly ahead of us at least five miles."

"One moment, Hotel Bravo Bravo." One of the fighter pilots responded.

The fighter flight's lead pilot was busy confirming the day code, and communicating with his command.

The commander of that Gulfstream motioned the co-pilot to allow Stephan to take her seat. Stephan and co-pilot exchanged position, and Stephan buckled in again. He looked out at the fighter to the right, as the fighter eased forward for a better view of Stephan. The pilot looked at Stephan for a awhile.

"Your Majesty," The lead pilot said, "If you keep to the heading of Three Four Zero, Airspeed Four Four Five, this flight level, with no diversions, we will escort you across Montenegran airspace."

Stephan clapped both hands together, "Yeah!"

He then went on to transmitting, "Flight commander, and pilots, I thank you very much. I will remember you, and if the Federation gives you any problems, and I'm sure they will, I will back you. You have safe sanctuary with me. Names please."

Each pilot called off his or her name and rank.

The fighter pilots all formed up to the right, for Stephan to see them, and they saluted, then flew on ahead a few miles.

Stephan glanced over at the Captain of the Gulfstream and blow air in relief. He then rested with his head back a moment, and then gave the seat back to the co-pilot.

"Thank you, Captain."

"No, thank you, Your Majesty. You're a very brave man."

Stephan smiled at the Captain and then went back to the cabin.

#

Winning Referendum and Sex in a Gulfstream Jet - Rewrite of Scene

http://www.thenewamerican.com/usnews/politics/7958-obama-signs-agenda-21-related-executive-order

To understand what compels me to write this book, you must study and fully understand the dangers of UN Agenda 21 to our way of life, the world over. Click the above to read on the over use of executive powers by the US President. He is using those powers too much, for the kind of republic we have.

In my book series, I go into detail about the use of executive powers, and about the dangers of world governance. My book is pure entertainment, but it does touch on a few things, indeed.

********

Everyone felt great relief when Gulfstream jet and fighters broke off. Stephan felt confident that his Prime Minister and he would soon find a solution to the World Federation’s interference with the popular vote. Stephan sensed that his PM had reservations about his new king. It sort of hurt, but Stephan understood why. Stephan was a man not without controversy and scandal.

Looking at Nadia, who lay across the leather couch, on the other side of the cabin, a few buttons undone – Stephan indeed felt his own sexual high.

Time to take the helm.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, got up, made private space between himself, and bodyguards and crew. That was done by pulling partitions and turning up the audio system.

How King Stephan loved women in expensive leather!

Here she comes now … across the cabin at him.

She pulled him over to her, landing him not so gently on the couch, almost slamming him, and straddling over him now, she looked down at him with her cool grey eyes, bending slightly, her hands pinning his forearms against the couch. She made him wait, as he had done to her moments ago as he yapped with his Prime Minister. He could over power her hands with ease, but this was a part of their little game.

“Shame on you Stephan, for making me wait.”

Stephan chuckled.

He stared back at her. This is going to be fun, relieving the sexual feelings and the fear he had while breeching airspace - and letting entire world know that there was indeed a legitimate King of Montenegro. He had been indeed scared during that part of the flight, especially once he spotted the fighters. The whole thing gave him a hell of a hard on.

Nadia teased Stephan a bit, showing her tits from under her silk and leather. She wiggled her hips on top of him.

He laughed, and said in a low tone, “Come on, my little vixen. You’re making me wait. I can’t stand it.”

She said nothing. She simply unknotted his nice soft tie, admired it, then toss it over to where he usually sat. She moved to the music, sort of lost in it, while she slowly undid the top buttons of his shirt, loving how that shirt felt. She liked his suit, which spoke of the man he was.

“Nadia, please turn the music up. I like this song.”

With one hand, still penning him with the other, as if ready to tie him, she reached for the remote. She turned the music it up quite loudly, enough so that they would not be overheard. Metallica played. It was Enter the Sandman and then an entire Metallica collection. Ted Nugent was queued after that, and then Regenerator.

In the farthest part of the cabin, beyond the partitions, two security men exchanged knowing smiles. That’s His Majesty, for you.

Stephan let Nadia have it her way for a while, as she continued to tease him. He smiled. She left it at that and continued her swaying motions.

Suddenly Stephan changed the game, and more so than he ever did before with her, surprising her.

Previously he had been rather assertive in bed, indeed, but now he had a new intensity to him.

He strongly gripped her shoulders, shifting their bodies, rolling on top of her, nearly dragging the two of them off the couch onto the plane’s floor. His foot upset a crystal tumbler, and Nadia's drink fell, breaking against a metal seat rail.

Stephan let out a loud laugh, but then remembered to keep it a bit hush, thus he stifled his laugh.

“Stephan! Are you trying to kill us!”

“Shhhh. Hold it down, God damn it!” Stephan commanded, still laughing, but quieter.

A guard called from beyond the partition, "Everything ok, Your Majesty?"

Stephan called back, "Everything's fine. No worries, Georg."

He bounced his brows at Nadia, and the both of them now laughed.

“You’re such an animal, Stephan.” She giggled in her naughty way.

He said, "Indeed, Nadia. Time to assert my sovereignty!"

“Oh really?” She cooed.

Stephan stroked her breast and kissed her neck, whispering, “Yes, really. I’m going to be intense, rather rough, if you don’t mind, which I sure you won’t mind it at all.”

He tenderly kissed her on the cheek and looked into her eyes. She saw something in him, indeed. A spark of that intensity he needed to get out. It completely made her all that more horny, and her stomach spun. This is the first time he’s going to fuck her being who he was now, now a very powerful man.

He asked again, “So are you ok with it?”

She had that giggle again, squirming her body under him, “Ooooooo. I don’t mind it at all, baby.”

“That’s what I love so much about you …”

He slid her leathers from her hips, smelling scents of her and her clothing, and hearing the music. He undid his trousers and positioned himself, wasting no time. He loved it this way almost all the time. Today, he loved it even more.

He’s now a monarch, for fuck’s sake.

Time for a victory celebration…

He looked into that vixen’s eyes again and made a different kind of smile. Under him, Nadia’s heart pounded. She had a hint of fear now, and had to somehow keep some control, but oh how delicious it was losing control was right now. Shit he’s burning behind those eyes of his right now. He’s got some anger, and yet something tender.

He drove on into her suddenly, and powerfully, and went right into pumping with full vigor. He held on to her with a very strong grip as he pounded away.

She liked it - all the while wanting to get her control over him back.

He laughed as she squirmed, leathers squeaking, and as she grabbed at him, to roll the two of them, he said, “That’s not going to happen, Nadia. You had this coming for a while. I’m king now.”

He was on fire, indeed. She was lost in waves of that delicious loss of control, being totally taken over by Stephan. This was a first. The music pounded too.

Holy shit! What a day. I’ve become monarch. The people back me via vote … fighter intercept bringing near death. Now her…

She worked up feverishly, still dressed in all those soft Gucci skins. It was unbearable for him. He wanted to make this crazy sex last forever, and it indeed lasted. He gave her one good thrust, when he was nearing the edge.

“I'm your God damned fucking reigning monarch. Got that?”

She went off, moving her legs wildly, making her noises of shear orgasm.

“Nadia. Shush. Not so loud. Now, say it! Acknowledge that I’m your legitimate king!”

She didn’t acknowledge, just continued moaning and thrusting her legs madly.

Still in his low tone he continued, “You want to get fucked like this indeed. Say that I am your fully legitimate monarch!”

“Alright Stephan!” She made a little moan.

“Say it!”

“Ok, ok, Stephan. You’re my monarch.”

“Say it again. And mean it, Nadia.” He commanded, and he was dead serious. This was beyond their usual rowdy sex games. She was a bit scared now. This was a real power struggle, and larger than it may seem at first glance.

She decided to put intensity to her words, thinking of the power it will mean for her eventually, “Oh yes, Stephan. You are legit monarch! Oh, baby, yes! I’m being fucked by my legitimate reigning monarch!”

He gave her a few really good thrusts, “You’re God damn right, don’t forget it. My country is God damn fucking fully sovereign. Got that?”

“Yes!”

“God damned right! Now go tell Chairman Wilcox that much!”

She gasped. Oh no!

He closed his eyes, and she wanted to cry out in her own spasms.

Still in a very low tone, which was hard to keep now, he said, “Full fucking sovereignty, baby!”

He exploded, and it was beyond belief, and he held Nadia’s mouth with a hand, just in case she wanted to scream in her intense orgasm in all that leather, and in her World Federation derived hunger for power...

Indeed, Nadia loved every freaking second of it.

There was an intense exchange of kisses after that.

"Oh that's my baby..." He said, looking in her eyes, wiping a hair from her forehead, "My crazy fucking Nadia."

Nadia made a laugh, but she was floored by what just happened.

Stephan now moved from her, slid her leather back in place. He gently, almost tenderly, buttoned her back up. He slid a hand ever so lightly over her thigh. She was an incredibly beautiful woman. He had a bit of vulnerability that moment. She looked up at him, and realized that he was trembling slightly. His lower lip certainly was, barely detectable, but indeed it trembled. Stephan was going through something in his mind.

He got up then redid his trousers and belt. He fell back into his own seat, closing his eyes, breathing hard even as athletic as he was.

“You ok, Stephan?”

“Ah, yeah.” He lied.

Nadia came over to him and ran a hand over his forehead, “You’re not.”

Stephan waved her off gently, “Please Nadia. I’m fine! Give me a second, if you will.”

Indeed Stephan went through something, and for a moment he relived it. Memories. A nightmare...

Minutes passed, and Stephan merely sat gazing out his window at his country. In time, he seemed ok again, but was terribly silent.

So much destruction below war Federation exploitation, and so much personal damage. Indeed.

Stephan had just felt sensations he had never felt before. A few days ago, he had disabled yet another set of the World Federation brain implants. Now he was almost feeling the person that he actually was, and some feelings were very new. He was feeling almost fully human.

“Thank you, Nadia.” He finally said, “Shit, that felt good! Fucking unbelievable!”

She looked on, wondering at that man now claiming a monarchy. Good God, Stephan …

What have they done to you?

The power struggle certainly has gone up a notch just now. The stakes were high indeed.

He ran his hand through his hair, and then gathered himself as the aristocrat that he indeed was. After straightening his suit, he sat in his seat with his now straightened back, still gazing out at his kingdom below.

“Time to toast in this event.” He offered, “Care for some bubbly, dear?”

She nodded, now lounging luxuriously on the couch. She was rather speechless. Stephan glanced her way, knowing that she had just uploaded via her new generation brain implants, this historical event aboard a royal jet. Now Chairman Wilcox reviewed it, power sex included. Stephan smiled, champagne bottle in hand.

Fuck you, Richard William Wilcox.

Stephan popped a cork, careful to not to let it fly in the pressurized cabin. He poured two flutes, and handed her one. He smiled broadly, lifted his glass, and said, “Welcome to my reign.”

He tossed back half his glass, swallowed and let out a hoot. He then drank the rest of his champagne in a second gulp, completely astounding Nadia. He poured a second flute, drank with aplomb, and then set the bottle down unceremoniously.

Metallica played on.

The Gulfstream with a crown painted on its tail roared along. It exited Stephan's airspace, his fighters broke off, and now Stephan flew through European airspace, still being closely monitored by the militaries below. Fighters orbited nearby, weapon systems warm. It was still a very dangerous situation.

45,000 feet below and about a couple hundred miles behind, crowds indeed poured into the streets by the thousands, and then by the tens of thousands. It’ll be a million before the day is over.

The Sovereignty Revolution was on.