So wrong.Celeste dropped the suitcases on my porch and was suddenly in my arms, her own arms around my neck, burying her face against me. “Brad,” she said/moaned, “It’s so good to see you.” She pulled her head back and then slowly, softly kissed me on the lips. It was a friendly, warm, brotherly kiss, and then it lengthened for a second, grew some heat, and then was dust.“Can I come in? We need to talk, big guy.” I had said nothing to this point, and I just nodded, opening the door and pointing with my chin. If she took offense at my non-offer of help, she didn’t show it. She just bent down, grabbed her suitcases and followed my lead. She dumped them at the base of the stairs and found the living room. She sat on a couch and looked around. I’d had a decorator in about two years ago, and the place looked good. I knew it, and she knew it. We were three years and as many thousands of miles away from Baltimore and those times.I took a leather wing-chair across from the couch and crossed. The man's eyes widened at the sight that greeted him. Before he could do more than frame a protest, a club in the hand of a hairy woman met the side of his head. A meaty thunk, and he collapsed with a tired sigh."Good work, Kinna." Riggan swung the door wide. "All right, bring out the shelka. We'll just tie this fellow up and chuck him back into his nice warm bed."The ponies were led out into the night where they were silently led away by a few of the women. Six more stables were just as easily raided, and at the last one Riggan and Kinna mounted ponies and trotted off to catch up with the rest of their squad. Hearing a confused hubbub from up ahead they reined in where a squad of soldiers stood surrounded by shaggy ponies."What's going on here? Who's driving these shelka this time of night?" The squad leader was almost hopping up and down with frustration."All right, soldier. What's going on here?" Riggan's voice held a calm assumption of authority that brought the soldier to.
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