The Frog and The Princess

By Kathy Smith

Teaser

The reverberation of automatic weapon fire spread deafeningly through the palace. Crouched behind the stone base of a large planter, Kermit paused to check his own weapon and found it alarmingly low on ammunition. The Uzi felt strange, though familiar, in his grasp. With his back against the stone, he pulled a fresh clip from his belt and inserted it into the weapon. The small palm tree above his head shook as bullets pierced its bark. His trademark Desert Eagle was tucked safely into the back of his black jeans and ready to be pulled at a moment's notice, its feel oddly comforting to him. Still crouched low behind the planter, he turned to face the rebels firing on him. Taking a deep breath, he looked over and nodded curtly to his companion.

Rykker acknowledged the gesture with a similar nod. Neither man spoke a word; Kermit flashed one, two, and then three fingers. At the same instant, both men rose and sprayed the area in front of them with bullets. Kermit quickly moved to the staircase on his left, continuing to fire as he ascended. As planned, Rykker stayed behind the planter to prevent anyone from following the green-spectacled ex-mercenary.

Kermit stopped momentarily at the top of the stairs and smiled to himself as the explosives he had planted on one of the rebel vehicles detonated. 'Right on schedule,' he thought. 'All right, Your Highness, time to get the hell out of Dodge.' More explosions rocked the palace foundation as several more trucks belonging to the rebel forces went up in flames. Flattened against the wall, Kermit carefully inched along to the study where the twenty-year-old Prince Tayib had been instructed to wait.

The sound of muffled sobbing stopped the ex-mercenary dead in his tracks a few feet shy of the door. 'Damn! They got to him. General Azoul, you didn't hold up your end of things very well.' Silently sliding over to the edge of the doorway, Kermit paused to listen.

"Shut up, you sniveling little coward," hissed the rebel leader. "Have you no honor? No pride? You bring shame to our people with your cowardice. You should be preparing to die like a man, not weeping like an old woman." The voice was barely audible, but the contempt of Visha Shaitan was unmistakable.

"Naraka. Yama. Take off the blindfold and use it to gag him. If he cannot die like a man, then he will die like a dog. Come. Quickly. Our time grows short," the disgusted leader ordered.

Kermit seized the opportunity to strike. Rolling to the floor on his stomach, he quickly sighted the underlings flanking the Prince and fired. The two stunned rebels dropped to the plush carpeting almost simultaneously as his bullets found their marks. Visha Shaitan quickly grabbed the terrified Prince and pulled him close to use as a shield. The ex-mercenary rose to his knees, gun trained on his last target, as the rebel placed his automatic to the Prince's temple. "Ah, my friend. It would seem I have the advantage here." To emphasize his point, he pushed the gun more firmly into Prince Tayib's temple. "Drop your weapon or I will execute the pathetic coward right now."

Kermit contemplated the Desert Eagle tucked into the back of his jeans and knew the course of action he had to take. He calmly pushed himself to his feet and began to bargain. "Say I go along with this little proposal of yours. What guarantee do I have that you will release the Prince unharmed?"

A maniacal grin spread across the rebel leader's face. "I am afraid that you have nothing more than my solemn word. Take it or leave it, my friend." Shaitan prepared to fire the weapon he held to the Prince's head.

"All right. Do I have your word that you will let the Prince go free?" Kermit smiled inwardly as he played the game.

"Of course. I give you my word the Prince will go free. Now drop your weapon." Excitement was evident in the rebel leader's eyes as he sensed victory, though his voice remained calm and detached. He mistakenly assumed fear was lurking behind the dark green glasses of his opponent.

Kermit tossed his gun aside and spread his hands in surrender. "Gun's gone. Now let the Prince go."

"You are not worth the money our good King is paying you. That was a very stupid thing to do, my friend. Now I will kill you both," he spat, contempt oozing from every pore. As the rebel moved the gun and took aim at Kermit, Prince Tayib found his chance for escape and jerked away from the terrorist. Kermit dove to the side and reached back for the Desert Eagle in a single motion. An instant before the mercenary could fire he heard the other man's weapon discharge. A split second later, the Desert Eagle sounded loudly in the small room and Visha Shaitan fell, never to rise again.

At the sound of approaching footsteps in the hall, Kermit whirled, ready to fire. His tension eased as he recognized the figure in the doorway. "Rykker. All secure downstairs?"

" Yes, we are quite secure. The good General and his men are mopping up now. I see you managed to get to the Prince in time." Rykker nodded in the direction of the shaken, but unharmed, Prince Tayib. "Looks like you didn't quite get away clean, though," he commented as his gaze went to Kermit's right shoulder.

Kermit looked confused for a moment and followed Rykker's eyes down to his shoulder. Bright red liquid oozed from a small round hole and flowed in a steady stream down his side. Fiery pain lanced through the injured shoulder, finally bringing the ex-mercenary out of his daze. Mentally cursing the dead rebel leader, he lifted his eyes back to meet Rykker's. Before he could speak, the room began to spin out of control and the Desert Eagle dropped from his hand. Kermit sank to the floor seconds later, green glasses still firmly in place.

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