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newstfionline · 4 years ago

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Wednesday, September 29, 2021

FBI Data Show An Unprecedented Spike In Murders Nationwide In 2020 (NPR) The number of murders in the United States jumped by nearly 30% in 2020 compared to the previous year in the largest single-year increase ever recorded in the country, according to official FBI statistics released Monday. The data show 21,570 homicides in the U.S. in 2020, which is a staggering 4,901 more than in 2019. The tally makes clear—in concrete terms—just how violent last year was. The overall violent crime rate, which includes murder, assault, robbery and rape, inched up around 5%, while property crimes continued their long-running decline and dropped 8% from 2019. But the spike in murders jumps out in the FBI report because of the sheer scale of the change. Jeff Asher, a data consultant who studies crime rates, said the increase is the largest since national records began being kept in 1960s. The homicide rate thus far in 2021 is up 10% from last year.

Haitians returning to a homeland that’s far from welcoming (AP) Deported from the United States, Pierre Charles landed a week ago in Port-au-Prince, a capital more dangerous and dystopian than the one he’d left four years before. Unable to reach his family, he left the airport alone, on foot. At least 2,853 Haitians deported from Texas have landed here in the last week with $15-$100 in cash handouts and a “good luck out there” from migration officials—many setting foot in the country for the first time in years, even decades. More than a city, Port-au-Prince it is an archipelago of gang-controlled islands in a sea of despair. Some neighborhoods are abandoned. Others are barricaded behind fires, destroyed cars and piles of garbage, occupied by heavily armed men. On Saturday, a local newspaper reported 10 kidnappings in the previous 24 hours including a journalist, a singer’s mother and a couple driving with their toddler, who was left behind in the car. Even before the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse a in July, the government was weak—the Palace of Justice inactive, congress disbanded by Moïse and the legislative building pocked by bullets. Now, although there is a prime minister, it is absent. Most of the population of Port-au-Prince has no access to basic public services, no drinking water, electricity or garbage collection. The deportees join thousands of fellow Haitians who have been displaced from their homes, pushed out by violence to take up residence in crowded schools, churches, sports centers and makeshift camps among ruins. Many of these people are out of reach even for humanitarian organizations.

Some Bolsonaro supporters have called for a military takeover of Brazil. Why do they wave the American flag? (Washington Post) On the day when Brazilians celebrated the nation’s independence, when thousands of protesters this month called on President Jair Bolsonaro to lead a military takeover of the country, a middle-aged man set out onto the streets of Brazil’s largest city, cloaked in the flag. The American flag. Wilson Gomes, 56, strutted down streets thronged by thousands of Bolsonaro supporters, the Stars and Stripes draped across his right shoulder, demanding radical change in Latin America’s largest nation. The time had come to do away with the Brazilian supreme court, which he said had been corrupted by a kleptocratic left and was unfairly targeting Bolsonaro and his supporters. The only way to save the constitution, he said, was to suspend it. At far-right rallies all over the country, where many have called for supreme court judges and opposition lawmakers to be removed, the American flag is now a staple. Supporters wear cowboy hats and belt buckles emblazoned with Texas longhorns. In a country that has more traditionally viewed the United States and its intentions with suspicion, the sudden appropriation of American symbols has exposed a political paradox at the heart of the Bolsonarista movement. A group that many here believe wants to subvert, if not overthrow, Brazilian democracy has chosen as one of its banners the flag of the world’s oldest democracy. “The Brazilian right and American have an agenda in common,” said Sèrgio Sant’Ana, president of the right-wing Conservative Liberal Institute.

Macron says Europeans need to stop being naive and assert independence from the United States (Washington Post) French President Emmanuel Macron urged Europeans to "come out of their naivete" on the world stage and assert their independence from the United States, sending one of the strongest signals to date that the diplomatic crisis prompted by a disrupted submarine deal could have long-lasting repercussions on transatlantic relations. Speaking alongside the Greek prime minister Tuesday at a news conference to unveil a major Franco-Greek defense deal, Macron said the Europeans should make themselves “respected.” “For a bit over 10 years now, the United States has been very focused on itself and has strategic interests that are being reoriented towards China and the Pacific,” he said. “It’s in their right to do so,” he continued, but “we would be naive, or rather we would make a terrible mistake, to not want to draw the consequences.” Macron’s latest remarks come as he appears to position himself as the next leader of Europe, an unofficial role so far largely attributed to German Chancellor Angela Merkel.

China energy crunch triggers shutdowns, pleas for more coal (Reuters) China faces mounting pressure to ramp up coal imports and ensure supplies to keep lights on, factories open and water flowing as a severe power crunch roils the northeastern industrial heartland. With electricity shortages sparked by coal shortages crippling large sections of industry, the governor of Jilin province, one of the hardest hit in the world's no.2 economy, called for a surge in coal imports, while a power company association said supply was being expanded "at any cost". News organisations and social media carried reports and posts saying the lack of power in the northeast had shut down traffic lights, residential elevators and 3G mobile phone coverage as well as triggering factory shutdowns. A utility in Jilin even warned power shortages could disrupt water supplies at any time, before apologising for causing alarm. The power crunch has taken hold as a shortage of coal supplies, toughening greenhouse gas emissions standards and strong demand from industry have pushed coal prices to peaks. Goldman Sachs estimated that as much as 44% of China's industrial activity has been hit by power shortages.

American siblings trapped in China under three-year ‘exit ban’ finally return home (Washington Post) China allowed two U.S. citizens, siblings Victor and Cynthia Liu, who were prevented from leaving the country for more than three years, to return to the United States on Sunday. Cynthia and Victor Liu are the daughter and son of Liu Changming, a businessman wanted on fraud charges in China. The siblings went to China in June 2018 to visit relatives but were barred from leaving, while their mother, Sandra Han, who made the trip with them, was detained. Their lawyers and the U.S. authorities described the move as an attempt to pressure Liu Changming into returning to China to faces charges—despite the siblings saying they had not had contact with their father in years. Victor and Cynthia Liu’s lawyer Marc Ginsberg told the New York Times that he believed a Sept. 9 phone call between President Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping had “helped to break a logjam” and contributed to the siblings’ release. He added that the siblings would have no comment for the news media.

Japan to lift all coronavirus emergency steps nationwide (AP) Japan’s government says the coronavirus state of emergency will end Thursday so the economy can be reactivated as infections slow. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga announced Tuesday that virus restrictions will be eased gradually. With the lifting, Japan will be entirely free of emergency requirements for the first time in more than six months.

Taliban issue no-shave order to barbers in Afghan province (AP) The Taliban on Monday banned barbershops in a southern Afghanistan province from shaving or trimming beards, claiming their edict is in line with Shariah, or Islamic, law. The order in Helmand province was issued by the provincial Taliban government’s vice and virtue department to barbers in Lashkar Gah, the provincial capital. During their previous rule of Afghanistan, the Taliban adhered to a harsh interpretation of Islam. Since overrunning Kabul on Aug. 15 and again taking control of the country, the world has been watching to see whether they will re-create their strict governance of the late 1990s. During the Taliban’s previous rule, the conservative Islamists demanded that men grow beards. Since being ousted from power following the U.S.-led invasion in 2001, shaved or cleanly trimmed beards have become popular in the country.

Violence in Nigeria (Foreign Policy) At least 34 people were killed in northern Nigeria following an attack on the village of Madamai in northern Kaduna state, state security commissioner Samuel Aruwan said on Monday, blaming unidentified assailants for the attack. The assault, which Aruwan said took place on Sunday, came the same day that 22 Nigerian security personnel were killed in an attack on an army base in Sokota state, also in the country’s north. In recent weeks, Nigerian states have introduced restrictions on residents in an attempt to stem the violence, attributed to so-called bandits as well as the Islamic State’s West African offshoot.

A Crypto-Trading Hamster Performs Better Than Warren Buffett And The S&P 500 (NPR) What if we told you there was a hamster who has been trading cryptocurrencies since June—and recently was doing better than Warren Buffett and the S&P 500? Meet Mr. Goxx, a hamster who works out of what is possibly the most high-tech hamster cage in existence. It’s designed so that when Mr. Goxx runs on the hamster wheel, he can select among dozens of cryptocurrencies. Then, deciding between two tunnels, he chooses whether to buy or sell. According to the Twitch account for the hamster, his decision is sent over to a real trading platform—and yes, real money is involved. Look, we’re not telling you to follow in this hamster’s financial decisions or that this process is scientific in any way. But what we can tell you is his portfolio is up nearly 20% since he started trading in June, according to his Twitter account. And as of Sept. 12, Mr. Goxx was performing better than Bitcoin, the Nasdaq 100, Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway and the S&P 500.

#headlines #news

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shirlleycoyle · 4 years ago

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The US Carefully Documented Its Total Failure in Afghanistan for 12 Years

America’s two decade long war in Afghanistan is over. The Taliban has taken Kabul, president Ashraf Ghani has fled, and planes are flying out of Kabul airport bearing American allies and personnel. The speed at which the U.S.-backed Afghan government fell is only shocking if you haven’t been reading the U.S. government's own reports, which for years have been documenting its failed reconstruction efforts in Afghanistan. The U.S. has wasted billions of dollars, thousands of lives, and millions of hours trying to rebuild Afghanistan, and recorded its failures in stunning detail in reports available to anyone who wants to read them.

Whenever I think about the U.S. government's failure in Afghanistan, I remember the goats. In 2013, a government project meant to kickstart Afghanistan's economy granted Colorado State University $1.5 million to start a goat farm in Herat Province, Afghanistan. It bought five cashmere-producing Italian goats and transported them to Afghanistan for the purposes of breeding them in large numbers and turning Afghanistan into a cashmere-producing hotspot.

But CSU ran into problems immediately. It had 300 goats, only nine of them the expensive cashmere goats from Italy. The college was bad at farming and the expensive Italian goats caught a disease that killed most of them. Worse, they were spending $50,000 a year to feed the rest, an incredible amount of cash to spend on an animal that will eat almost anything.

When CSU tried to turn the farm over to locals and told them what it was spending to feed the goats, the Afghan called the farm a “poisoned chalice.” Keep in mind that Afghan farms have been raising goats for generations and already had cashmere-producing animals.

According to a goat expert who testified in the fallout, the college “had no idea what they were doing and the CSU staff determined what the project should cost, despite no one at CSU having any experience with cashmere.”

We know about the goat farm and other failed efforts because of the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR), a government agency that started keeping track of the war and its material costs in 2008. Since then, the agency has kept detailed records of its investigations into the more than $144 billion the U.S. set aside for reconstruction in Afghanistan.

The office has produced special reports, such as the one about the goats, and quarterly reports for more than a decade. The history of the war is in those thousands of pages of documents. It’s a story of hubris, corruption, and abject failure. The warning signs were there to anyone who wanted to read them.

There was Camp Leatherneck, a U.S. Marine base in Helmand Province. It cost $36 million to construct the 64,000-square-foot command center. It came with an air conditioning system, expensive electronics, and office furniture. The U.S. never used it and couldn’t decide if it should demolish the facility or turn it over to the Afghans. The Pentagon eventually turned it over to the Afghan national army, leaving behind 420,000 water bottles, but setting fire to 10,000 MREs, and destroying 7,500 computers. The Pentagon left the televisions untouched.

Contractors working in Afghanistan loved to cut corners. In one incident, contractors constructing barracks for the Afghan National Army insulated the buildings with a highly flammable spray-on polyurethane foam, a safety violation so flagrant its use in construction is banned internationally. SIGAR called out the error but the military wouldn’t fix the problem.

“The typical occupant populations for these facilities are young, fit Afghan soldiers and recruits who have the physical ability to make a hasty retreat during a developing situation,” then Major General Michael Eyre said in a 2014 memo to SIGAR, implying that people could simply escape from burning buildings if they had to. Eyre wrote this memo after some of the buildings had already burned to the ground.

These are just some of the stories detailed in the SIGAR reports. There are hundreds more. A SIGAR investigation recently led to the busting of a ponzi scheme. There’s the hundreds of millions of dollars in missing weapons and ammunition. There’s the damning investigation into how America’s counternarcotics efforts made poppy plants more profitable than they’d ever been.

Afghanistan was always going to end this way. Anyone reading SIGAR’s quarterly reports and myriad investigations could see the broader picture—that America's occupation of Afghanistan was a disaster, and that our hold there was weak.

What’s happening now is a tragedy and worse is to come. Desperate Afghans rushed a plane leaving Kabul airport. Some clung to the sides. Four fell to their death. Interpreters and allies are getting left behind or languishing in limbo and waiting for a chance to enter the U.S., and the Taliban is back in power.

The Taliban swept through the country in days, but America’s failure in Afghanistan didn’t happen overnight. It was a slow moving tragedy that played out over two decades. We know because it’s all in the reports, explained in painful and excruciating detail.

The US Carefully Documented Its Total Failure in Afghanistan for 12 Years syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years ago

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 20, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Today, the U.S. Attorney’s office for the Eastern District of New York indicted three men for illegally influencing the foreign policy positions of a presidential candidate and then, after the election, of the United States government.

They were acting in the interests of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), a wealthy country in the Persian Gulf. The candidate was Donald Trump, and one of the three men was his ally Thomas Barrack. Another was Matthew Grimes, a 27-year-old employee who reported to Barrack. The third was UAE citizen Rashid al-Malik Alshahhi, who lived in California until 2018, leaving abruptly after the FBI interviewed him about the case.

The return of Barrack to the news recalls the outsized influence of foreign actors in the previous administration, and how U.S. policy appeared to change to suit their interests. On Twitter, Mark Mazetti of the New York Times wrote: “One of the mysteries of Trump's first six months was why the administration came out of the gate so hot for Saudi and UAE—with Trump traveling to Saudi Arabia and then going along with the Qatar blockade. The Tom Barrack indictment explains a lot.”

A billionaire private equity real-estate investor and longtime ally of Trump, Barrack was a key fundraiser for Trump’s campaign, which he advised between April and November 2016. In June 2018, New York Times reporter David D. Kirkpatrick wrote a profile of Barrack, explaining that he is the son of Lebanese immigrants to Los Angeles and so grew up speaking Arabic, which helped him do business and make contacts in the UAE and Saudi Arabia.

Barrack got to know Trump in the real estate world of the 1980s, and by 2010, he acquired $70 million of Jared Kushner’s debt and retired enough of it to keep Kushner from bankruptcy. When Trump launched his 2016 campaign with anti-Muslim rhetoric, Barrack calmed his Middle East contacts down, assuring them that Trump was simply using hyperbole.

Barrack urged Trump to hire Paul Manafort—fresh from his stint working for a Ukrainian oligarch—and served as chair of Trump’s inaugural committee. Grimes and Barrack proposed to contacts in the UAE that it should use “its vast economic surplus to obtain a level of influence…which the country should rightfully command.” They suggested it should use financial investments to “increase [its] influence with USA and European governments and people.”

A final draft of their proposal explained that “[w]hile the primary purpose of the platform [will be] to achieve outsized financial returns, it will also…garner political credibility for its contributions to the policies of [the recently elected Candidate, hereinafter, the ‘President-Elect’]....We will do so by sourcing, investing, financing, operationally improving, and harvesting assets in those industries which will benefit most from a [President-Elect] Presidency.”

Barrack’s investment firm raised more than $7 billion between 2016 and 2018, 24% of it from either the UAE or Saudi Arabia.

According to today’s charges, once Trump was in office, Barrack continued to lobby for the UAE until April 2018. He allegedly worked with allies in the UAE to draft passages of Trump’s speeches, hone press materials, and prepare talking points to promote UAE interests. Without ever registering as a foreign agent, he worked to change U.S. foreign policy and appoint administration officials to meet a “wish list” produced by UAE officials.

Barrack helped to tie the Trump administration to Saudi Arabia and the UAE, turning the US away from Qatar, an ally that hosts US air bases (although they are now being closed as bases and in the process of becoming housing for our Afghan allies before their US visas come through). From the beginning, the administration worked closely with Abu Dhabi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Zayed, who controls $1.3 trillion in sovereign wealth funds and essentially rules the UAE, and with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS), whom Prince Mohammed championed.

In May 2017, Trump advisers Jared Kushner and Steve Bannon, along with Saudi and UAE leaders, met without the knowledge of then–Secretary of State Rex Tillerson to talk about blockading Qatar. When Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain, and Egypt launched a blockade on June 5, 2017, Trump cheered them on, although the State Department took a neutral stand and the Pentagon thanked Qatar for hosting US troops.

Today, prosecutors said that Barrack provided foreign government officials “with sensitive non-public information about developments within the Administration, including information about the positions of multiple senior United States government officials with respect to the Qatari blockade conducted by the UAE and other Middle Eastern countries.”

They say he also "met with and assisted senior leaders of the KSA [Kingdom of Saudi Arabia], a close ally of the UAE."

In May 2019, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo declared an emergency to bypass congressional oversight of an $8 billion arms sale to Saudi Arabia and the UAE. After the UAE signed onto the Abraham Accords, normalizing relations with Israel, the U.S. sold them another $23 billion of arms, including 50 F-35 advanced fighter planes.

Barrack and Grimes were arrested this morning in California.

When announcing the arrests, William F. Sweeney, Jr., Assistant Director-in-Charge of the FBI’s New York Field Office, said, “American citizens have a right to know when foreign governments, or their agents, are attempting to exert influence on our government. This is especially important to Americans during a Presidential election year, and the laws on the books were created to protect our nation from such untoward influence. This case is about secret attempts to influence our highest officials.”

Acting Assistant Attorney General of the Justice Department’s National Security Division Mark J. Lesko said, “Through this indictment, we are putting everyone—regardless of their wealth or perceived political power—on notice that the Department of Justice will enforce the prohibition of this sort of undisclosed foreign influence.”

Acting U.S. Attorney Jacquelyn M. Kasulis said, “These arrests serve as a warning to those who act at the direction of foreign governments without disclosing their actions, as well as those who seek to mislead investigators about their actions, that they will be brought to justice and face the consequences.”

Prosecutors warned that Barrack was a flight risk because of his wealth, private jet, and “deep and longstanding ties to countries that do not have extradition treaties with the United States”: Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE.

Barrack’s lawyer says that Barrack “has made himself voluntarily available to investigators from the outset,” possibly indicating a willingness to flip.

A judge has ordered Barrack be held in custody until a bail hearing on Monday.

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Notes:

https://www.justice.gov/usao-edny/pr/former-advisor-presidential-candidate-among-three-defendants-charged-acting-agents

https://www.justice.gov/usao-edny/press-release/file/1413306/download

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/thomas-barrack-indictment-trump/2021/07/20/d40b64f0-e985-11eb-84a2-d93bc0b50294_story.html

https://www.cnn.com/2019/05/24/politics/trump-arms-sales-saudi-arabia-uae/index.html

https://web.archive.org/web/20210105060948/https://www.state.gov/u-s-approves-advanced-defense-capabilities-for-the-united-arab-emirates/

https://www.cnbc.com/2021/07/20/trump-friend-tom-barrack-arrest-puts-the-spotlight-on-united-arab-emirates.html

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/thomas-barrack-trump-s-inaugural-committee-chair-arrested-federal-charges-n1274533

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/13/world/middleeast/trump-tom-barrack-saudi.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/02/world/middleeast/crown-prince-mohammed-bin-zayed.html

Mark Mazzetti @MarkMazzettiNYTOne of the mysteries of Trump's first six months was why the administration came out of the gate so hot for Saudi and UAE--with Trump traveling to Saudi Arabia and then going along with the Qatar blockade. The Tom Barrack indictment explains a lot.1,732 Retweets6,683 Likes

July 20th 2021

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/jul/08/troubling-overlap-between-jared-kushner-business-interests-and-us-foreign-policy

https://www.politico.com/news/2021/07/20/us-afghan-interpreters-qatar-kuwait-military-bases-500275

https://www.stripes.com/branches/army/2021-07-01/us-military-closes-qatar-camps-in-move-that-could-play-into-iran-policy-2009140.html

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#political #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #Corrupt GOP #Criminal GOP

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collapsedsquid · 5 years ago

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In June 2007, records say, the Army solicited bids for a relatively minor contract. The government needed four workers to mentor Afghan Army special forces members. The deal required two weapons maintenance trainers, an inventory management trainer and an interpreter.

At the time, documents say, Young was in Afghanistan working with Afghan security forces. He was instrumental, authorities say, in developing the contract.

He and a subordinate, Maj. Todd Cox, dramatically inflated the official cost estimate for the services, setting the price at $875,000, plus a bonus for working near combat, records say.

Cox then presented eight companies to an officer who would help make the selection. Cox, who would later tell investigators Young gave him the list of candidates, provided incorrect contact information for three of the companies. Three others were ineligible because they were foreign owned. A seventh couldn't bid because it didn't have a security license for Afghanistan.

That left one firm: American International Security Corp., a company owned and operated by Michael Taylor.

[...]

Within weeks of the award, the Army expanded the contract and asked American International to supply more trainers. By January 2011, the Department of Defense had paid the company $54 million.

While the firm provided some trainers and services, authorities say it never came close to fulfilling its obligations.

Still, documents state, Young, Harris, Taylor and others continued to bill the government.

"This," records say, "resulted in a financial windfall for AISC."

For years, court documents indicate, federal officials failed to realize they were being defrauded, in large part, because Young had arranged for an insider to sign off on falsified invoices.

She was a captain in the New York Air National Guard named Tory Milos.

Milos, court records say, had also been Young's girlfriend.

[...]

The federal government alleges that millions of dollars went to a handful of officers running the military contract companies.

From 2007 to 2010, American International deposited more than $17 million into one of Harris' personal checking accounts, court records state. Investigators tracked that money and found it had been dispersed through more than 100 bank accounts under the control of Young, Harris and others.

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uzumaki-rebellion · 6 years ago

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“Wet Sugar” [Part 9 of 30]

Summary: Erik returns...

NSFW. Mature Audience. Smut

If you enjoy it, please like/comment/reblog, etc! Share the love!

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"You've crossed my mind, a thousand times The cost was fine, I draw the line I'm back, relapse, I'm fiending Yes, what's that? The fact, I'm dreaming Coconut oil, the scent of your body still lingers on sheets I got a shot at you, you wouldn't reach Cock back, cock back, trigger release Pop that top, take a sip of your holiest water I know I'm a part of your flow now See when you cut her, don't matter you love her And now you got part of her soul, now I ain't know then, but I know now…"

Ari Lennox (Feat. J. Cole) – "Shea Butter Baby"

Erik couldn't breathe any relaxed air until they had flown out of Nigeria.

It became clear after they had left the African continent that Klaue was on a master hit list in several countries he was doing a brisk business with. The man tried to play it off that he was not concerned with the new threats, but Erik could tell from Klaue's unnatural quiet manner that the man was facing a crisis.

Confirmation came when Erik and Limbano took down two outed S.H.E.I.L.D. agents in Egypt as they slipped into Europe via Italy and had to take a long land haul into Afghanistan with several vehicles. Slipping into ghost-mode, they needed the help of Tahir to route them into Kabul safely. The irony. Kabul being a safe space for them.

Brain on battle mode, Kabul was to be the place to exchange coveted goods that Klaue would not reveal to anyone, not even Erik. Two weeks in the waiting period, Erik was told that he would take the secret goods back to St. Thomas and watch over them until Klaue could find a buyer. Erik could only think in three-hour units of time while in Kabul. Any future thoughts of the Virgin Islands or what waited there for him could not be entertained. Battle mode meant survive while completing the immediate task. Compartmentalize. Stay alert. Prepare alternative solutions ahead of time. Being off the grid was a life of extreme uncertainty even with the best-laid plans.

Stress ate at him.

He was abrupt with everyone around him, including Klaue. His evenings were spent in the bar inside the five-star hotel he stayed in. Klaue's way of rewarding him for saving their asses in Botswana. Erik spent twenty hours of each day holed up in his suite, ordering room service, watching mindless cable, and drinking for the four hours he left the room each day. Klaue gave him a week there. He wished he could enjoy it, but all he wanted was to finish the transfer and get the fuck outta Dodge. Return to sun, sand, clear waters…

He refused to check on Yani. Had to. Too much was happening around him with Klaue that he couldn't spare the mental energy just to look at any recent pictures or posts on her social feeds.

After polishing off what amounted to a full bottle of whiskey in one of the few hotels in Kabul that allowed liquor for tourists only, Erik received a private text from Klaue that the pick-up would go down the next day.

"Shit," Erik whispered, feeling a little unsteady as he went back to his suite. Everything was need-to- know with Klaue there, and Erik wished he had word four hours previous before he drowned his liver in alcohol. He would have to drink a lot of water to piss it out.

Showering and then packing, Erik wasn't surprised when Klaue showed up at his door.

"You look quite comfy in that robe, mate," Klaue said.

Erik finished organizing his duffel bag on the king-sized bed and stuck his hands inside the pockets of the plush robe.

"Wish you woulda mentioned go-time sooner."

"I have to keep things close. You know this. We're going near the Bagram base. My contact is an insider. Only you know this."

Erik studied Klaue's face.

"That's risky."

"What are great rewards without great risks?"

"Shits been hella sketchy, man—"

"I told you. Last gig before a little break. I'm going deep underground right after."

"How long?"

"I'm going to play it by ear, but I need you working the moment you get to Our Lady's Manor. You are going to take my prosthetic with you."

The statement gave Erik pause.

"Do what you have to do to stabilize the damn thing. I have some vibranium there, enough for you to experiment with. Use all your goddamn talents to fix this thing. I'm heading to Jo'Burg after this—"

"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you go back—"

"Why wouldn't I? The place I'm least expected to show up. I have more security there and ways to completely vanish."

"What are you gonna do? Fly over and parachute down, because there is no way you can cross borders…fuck…you're going to jump in? You crazy muthafucka."

Klaue gave a wicked smile.

"I'm a pirate at heart. You know that. Fly in…drop in."

Erik did his absolute best to keep his face neutral. He should go with him. If things were different, that would be exactly his plan. Go to South Africa, experiment on Klaue's arm there and other weapons, then prep for a Wakanda opening. Smart move would be to post up on the continent.

But he wasn't being smart.

He was being reckless. Unscripted. Compulsive. Opening himself up to trouble.

It would be so easy to tell this devil that he was going to Jo'Burg too. Huntsman or Limbano or Shipley could oversee the St. Thomas compound. He didn't need to be there…

"Run it down for me. I don't want to wait for tomorrow. You know I don't like last-minute shit."

"That's why I'm here," Klaue said.

Erik sat on the bed and focused.

###

"I don't like this."

Limbano drove to the second checkpoint of their journey, his voice gruff, and his fingers tapping on the steering wheel of the jeep they were in.

"Everything is cool, my friend," Tahir said, checking his cell, "the man up ahead is one of ours. Move over to the next lane and relax."

Limbano did as Tahir instructed and Erik could feel the man's tense mood escalate. They just needed to get past the checkpoint and then head out toward the desert following the GPS coordinates Klaue finally released to them.

Fake I.D.'s clipped to their military-issue gear, the first checkpoint had been a breeze to cross through. Erik just had to keep his face forward when he spoke so his slugs wouldn't tip off the private contractor's checking them through.

Their rendezvous point had a limited time gap, and they were ahead of schedule thanks to Tahir and his groundwork. The military base did external vehicle patrols in ninety-minute intervals and Erik had their timing down to a T. Once they passed a certain point that brought them closer to the base, they could not afford to attract any attention, hence the U.S. military get-ups to blend in.

The guard at the second checkpoint was a beefy-faced Afghan police officer in a drab olive-colored uniform. A brown flak vest covered his chest and the helmet he wore on his head looked cumbersome. He had an AK-47 pointed toward the ground as he directed cars to drive through or pull over to be inspected. Several vehicles were pulled to the side and being thoroughly checked by other officers. At their approach, his furtive glances inside their jeep let Erik know he was a newbie. But a newbie easily swayed by money to look the other way.

The police officer held up a biometric scanner to Limbano's face. He cleared.

They were waved on and Limbano visibly relaxed. Tahir patted him on his shoulder.

"Head West," Tahir said.

Behind them were Klaue, Shipley, Huntsman and a native interpreter…just in case. Erik and Tahir were fluent in Arabic, but not the nuances of a lot of Afghan contacts they could possibly run into. A third jeep brought up the rear. They all made it through the checkpoint with ease.

Simple plan.

Get in. Collect the goods Klaue had planned for Erik to smuggle back to the island. Get back to the local airport and part ways. Outside of Erik and Tahir, everyone else was firepower, each jeep filled with enough weapons to start a mini-war if needed. Whatever was inside those artifacts needed a small vetted army to get it out of the country. On top of that, Klaue only wanted Erik to guard it while they all went into hiding.

Someone inside the Airforce base was in cahoots with Klaue. Whatever was in the "package" was worth the risk, and worth going underground for a spell. Erik could only think of one thing. Intel. Intel that could destroy lives and save Klaue's as long as he held it. Intel he wouldn't take with him to South Africa. Intel that couldn't be downloaded or transferred from military protected servers, but handed off in person. Saving the man's life twice had afforded Erik the privilege to hold the goods. Alone.

They bypassed going through the private contractor checkpoints and went off-road to rendezvous ten miles from the base.

"Fuck is that?" Erik said.

They all caught sight of a speeding unescorted military S.U.V. heading their way kicking up a sandstorm behind it.

"Klaue, what is this?" Erik barked into a two-way radio.

It was too damn soon for the pick-up and too damn close to the base. They didn't even have a chance to do reconnaissance…

"It's our guy. Don't know why…shit—"

Klaue's voice dropped on the radio as they saw a wide swathe of desert sand billowing up at least five miles behind the runaway S.U.V. A caravan of vehicles chasing the lone rogue.

"Gun it!" Erik shouted to Limbano as he grabbed the AK-47 Tahir handed him.

The jeep surged forward as Limbano switched gears.

"Always cutting it fucking close…" Erik grumbled.

Limbano swung the jeep around next to the S.U.V.

A white woman in civilian clothing leaped out of the vehicle carrying a gun-metal hardshell attaché. A camo bucket hat covered her hair, and dark wrap-around visors kept her eyes hidden.

"My cover was blown!" she shouted handing Klaue the case.

Klaue's eyes peered over her shoulder as the surprise vehicles barreled down on them. Erik counted five S.U.V,'s and three military jeeps. Tahir stood next to Erik with an RPG resting on his shoulder.

"They'll scatter and surround us if I shoot this now," Tahir said.

"They'll circle us either way," Erik said as the other men stood near their closely parked vehicles with their AKs. They'd have to use their own jeeps for cover.

"What happened?" Klaue asked as the men grabbed weapons.

The woman removed her shades.

Shit. She was Klaue's squeeze from St. Thomas. Amy.

"Site exit codes have been switched every four hours on base. It took longer to secure the package and I had to move before the attache was seized and I missed your window. There was nothing I could do. I had to move," Amy said. Her eyes glanced behind her.

The vehicles were separating.

"Good luck!" Amy said as she ran back to her S.U.V., hopped in, and gunned it past them.

SSS-BLAM!

A rocket grenade streaked overhead from the sky and hit one of the oncoming jeeps.

Erik's eyes stared as a Mi-17 flew in low and fast.

Tahir let one of his rocket grenades fly striking another S.U.V. Erik kept his eyes and AK-47 on the chopper.

"This you?" Erik yelled at Klaue.

"Always have a Plan B, C, and D," Klaue said winking.

The chopper touched down behind their jeeps and a woman jumped out in full fatigues carrying a small laptop. She slammed it on the hood of Erik's jeep and typed fast.

"Nice to finally meet you in person, Killmonger," the woman said when her eyes caught his.

Erik grinned.

"Nice entrance, Linda," he said.

"Load up!" she yelled. Klaue and the others ran to the chopper. Limbano stood next to Erik, accustomed to seeing things through like him.

"This will shut down their S.U.V.s. They put Safetrak software on their cars to retrieve stolen vehicles, but that left them vulnerable to people like me. I can only disable the S.U.V.'s though…one more second….and done. Last one back!" she yelled running toward the chopper.

Once Erik and Limbano dived into the chopper behind Linda, the Mi-17 lifted up fast. Linda grabbed two hand grenades from her vest pockets, popped the pins, and dropped them down on their jeeps blowing them up.

Swooping away from the scene, Erik glanced out the open side door. Below them, he could see Amy driving her S.U.V. like a rabid bat out of hell as she headed for the mountains.

"She might make it," Erik said.

"She'll make it. I gave her a nice nest egg for this," Klaue said clutching the attaché that brought all the trouble.

Erik buckled up into his chopper seat. Linda plopped down next to him securing her own belt.

"Nice work," he said holding out his fist. She bumped her fist with his.

"I get your final approval then?"

"Hell yeah," he said.

Her face was flushed from the exertion and her smile was wide.

"Buy me a drink and thank me properly," she said.

"Bet."

###

Linda drank him under the table.

Once they escaped the desert, Klaue released everyone after money was deposited in offshore accounts and secret banks on the deep web. Erik was already comfortable with funds, but the Kabul job rewarded him handsomely with extra. Part of it was a babysitting fee to keep Erik off the market in St. Thomas for the next three months, or until Klaue was ready to emerge again from hiding.

Housed in a Lebanese hotel, Klaue treated them all to a lush meal and the best alcohol he could throw money at. They cut loose.

Everyone spruced up a bit for dinner, and Erik was right about Linda being sexy when she went all out. She was comfortable and fit in with all the testosterone and masculine energy surrounding her. Even while wearing a fancy red cocktail dress. She cursed like the best of them, and damn if she didn't make some of them look like children trying to hold their liquor.

The Black geek in both of them came out later in the evening when they started discussing ways to shut down security systems that were more complicated in just two years. He felt like he was back at M.I.T. or his old Stark internship while shooting the shit with her over coding and cybersecurity. She had a brain he could respect. She also didn't make fun of him when he had to slow down his drinking to keep his eyes from swimming. For the first time in weeks, he was feeling breezy. He survived some tough jobs and could now chill for a couple of months with a bounty in his bank account.

Tahir found a club that played decent enough music and he brought along more women that made their little party merrier after dinner.

Erik couldn't tell exactly when he let his guard down low enough for her to climb over, but on the cab ride back to the hotel Klaue set up for all of them, Linda crawled onto his lap, her lips smacking on his, and the liquor pushed him to respond.

He missed being around a woman.

Missed how they smelled.

Missed titties.

And feminine curves.

Kissing.

Softness.

He took her to his hotel room, and in his stupor, tried his best not to think of where he was headed next once he left Lebanon. Erik wiped away all images of a certain young woman with eyes that cut deep and a voice that melted his insides.

What he was about to do was just a release. No different than jerking off to porn. He wasn't cheating. That island girl was not truly his woman yet. Not until he had her in the biblical sense. And she was probably dating or seeing someone for sure. Some nigga probably slid into her DMs and wore her down. He wouldn't blame her if she moved on fast. Hell, he expected women to handle their business in his absence. He couldn't be mad if some other dude got between her thighs before he did…

Liar.

He must've been really off with the sauce if he was hearing Yani's voice in his head.

She told him before he left St. Thomas that she hadn't been with a man all the way since Chez got her pregnant. He wanted to be the first man stroking her walls with his dick. Be the first to cum inside of her. Over and over.

The liquor didn't stop his manhood from plumping up and making his pants tight.

Linda took notice and kissed him with a passionate fervor. He let her tongue slip deeper into the recess of his mouth as he felt up her chest, groaning when he held breasts and nipples again.

Stress relief.

That's what he kept telling himself.

Rolling a condom on his engorged length, he widened his knees on the carpeted hotel floor as Linda arched her back for him, ass poked out, her hands gripping the couch she was facing. She must've been really horny for him because she cut the foreplay the moment she saw his dick. They went from kissing to him lining up his glans against her weeping slit in zero to five.

"When's the last time you had dick?" he said as he pushed into her.

Her head turned back to look at him.

"Good dick, or just dick?" she asked.

He slapped her ass.

"Good dick," he huffed out as he let her feel inch by slow inch of him. He was planted in her nice and tight and her gasps let him know she was pleased.

"Oh…shit…your dick is feeling fucking great right now and you haven't even started yet," she said moaning when he pulled out slowly and sunk back into her again.

"You acting like you wanna rush shit," he said swiveling his hips as he pumped into her. Her back muscles quivered. She clutched the couch tight and pressed her forehead into the cushion.

"Fuck! You're stretching me out…hold up…let me—"

He slapped her ass again and grabbed both of her arms and pulled them back. Her head was lifted up and she couldn't get loose from him.

"Ain't no holding up. You want this hard and fast. That's how you're acting," he said.

"Oohhh!"

"Huh? Saw my shit and wanted the dick bad—"

"Yeah…yeah—"

"You gettin' it-"

"God, yes! Fuck me!"

Lips curled, balls slapping her ass, erratic horniness fueling his thrusts, Erik made Linda beg for the pounding he gave her. Pumping in and out of her his glutes flexed and unflexed, his back muscles working just as hard.

Her cell phone lit up and vibrated on the couch.

"Who calling you right now?" he asked, not stopping his thrusts. He could see the avatar of some tanned male torso.

"Shit, Sergio!" she squealed.

"Boyfriend?"

"Ooohhh!" she screamed letting her head drop down even as his grip held her arms tight.

"You fucking me and your man is calling?"

"Shut up and keep fucking me!" she shouted.

"Answer your phone."

Erik released her hands and they dropped to the floor. Her head turned to the side looking back at him.

"Hell no!" she yelped as he double-tapped her pussy, cramming himself even deeper making her eyes squeeze shut, "You feel so fucking good Eri—"

"Answer your phone, bitch!"

He struck Linda's ass again then reached down and gripped her neck. He stopped thrusting and she threw her ass back trying to keep his momentum in her pussy.

"I can call him back later."

Reaching for her phone she lifted a finger to swipe it silent, but Erik snatched up her hair and yanked her neck back.

"I said answer your damn phone. Now!"

His tone froze her. He kept his body still.

"Bitch, don't play wit me. Answer it. Talk to him."

"You are so foul," she hissed.

"I'm foul?"

The weight of his dick had her mouth open.

Erik leaned over her sweat-laced back and swiped her phone putting it on speaker. Linda slapped his hands.

He resumed fucking her.

Slowly.

"Sergio?"

"Linda…sweetheart, why haven't you returned my calls. You have me worried…"

Spanish accent. A few words of Spanish endearments to seduce her ears from so far away. Andulusian dialect. But not native to the region. His English was perfect. A dual-language learner like himself.

"I am fine, babe. New job is keeping me…keeping…busy…hmmm"

Erik pumped a little faster as he gripped her waist, causing her to lose track of language. "Sounds like your phone is cutting out," Sergio said.

"N-n-no…it's fine…"

Linda shoved her right hand over her mouth as Erik squeezed her nipples and long-stroked her pussy.

"Get this dick," Erik whispered and her hand left her mouth and reached back trying to hit him once more to silence him.

"Squeeze my dick, bitch," he said a little louder. "What was that?" Sergio said.

"I have the t-t-tv on, Serg," she blurted out in an odd octave.

"Is everything okay?"

"It's good…soooo good," she hissed dropping her head on the couch again. She bit the cushion to prevent her cries from escaping her lips.

Sergio prattled on about his job, the weather, when she was returning to Spain, and Linda responded with muffled grunts and groans that made Erik's dick harder.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm just tired, Babe," she blurted out fast. She pressed the mute button on her end and Sergio kept talking. Linda tossed her ass back hard.

"That's it…give it to me…show me how much you want this dick."

"Erik! Shit!"

"How you letting me fuck you like this?"

"Oh God! You're so deep inside my pussy…Erik! Erik!"

She was turned on by her boyfriend being on the phone.

"Take it off mute. Let him hear me wearing this pussy out! I'm bustin' this shit wide open—"

"Damn—"

"You want him to know I'm digging you out—"

"Fuck—"

"Play with my balls."

Linda's fingers reached past her mound and stroked his fat sack.

"Take it off mute!"

Her fingers left his balls for a second as she unmuted herself while Sergio was still jabbering non-stop. Erik hunched down tight against Linda's back.

"You a dirty bitch," Erik whispered in her ear. "Yes," she squeaked.

"Yes, what?" Sergio asked.

Erik tried to hold back a laugh as Linda covered her face from embarrassment.

"Nothing," she gasped into the couch.

Erik pulled out of her while she still held her phone in her hand. He motioned for her to lay back on the couch facing him. She did what he wanted and he plunged back into her while holding her legs wide open.

Her slippery walls made him hit the bottom off her vagina and his long strokes made the squelching sounds their friction created louder. Soon, her pussy was taking in too much air and queefing sounds erupted. Erik threw his head back. Her pussy felt so good to him at that moment.

"Oh shit!" he shouted.

When he looked down at Linda her face looked horrified that her pussy was making farting sounds.

"Linda, what's going on?"

Sergio sounded distressed.

"I'll call you back, Serg. I'm getting a call from my boss," she shrieked into the phone. She ended the call and tossed her cell on the couch. Erik pulled all the way out so that her vagina could release the rest of the air trapped in it. He settled himself behind her on the couch and pulled her body to line up with his so he could insert his erection back in while holding her leg up.

"You didn't want your man to hear me cum in your pussy?"

Linda yanked on his locs with her right hand. He shifted his arm so that he held her leg back and could stroke her clit that sat like a tiny pink pearl. He could feel the light stubble on her shaved mound and outer lips as he rubbed her clit. "You gon' let me cum in this pussy?"

"You know I will," she said, a bit of sass in her voice. He pumped harder to knock the confidence out of her voice. He liked her begging voice more.

"Show me you want me to nut all in you."

He pressed that slick pearl of hers harder and her legs trembled. She arched her back and pushed against him, trying her best to slam her pussy down his shaft.

"I like that. Keep doing that," he commanded. Pinching her clit, he watched her breasts jiggle as she forced herself back on him, trying to match his pace. Her body jerked and shuddered. She was cumming on him and he wasn't ready for her to tap out so soon.

He held still as the last big gasps fell away from her tense mouth. When he thought she was done he thrust his hips into her again and she laid there like a dead fish.

"Help me out, baby," he whispered to her, trying to coax her to wiggle or grind her hips, or anything that would help him release.

She gyrated a little bit and he heard her suck in a breath when his dick went deep. She came back around again and started fucking him with added zeal, ushering back the intensity of his arousal.

"I'm gon' cum on your clit."

His heated panting had grown heavier and he could hear her whimpering as she opened her legs wider for him.

"Here it comes!"

He pulled out and she removed the condom from his erection. Rubbing the tip against her clit, his semen splashed a fierce streak across the top of her mound and all over her stomach. Her fingers rubbed all over his sensitive glans, smearing his cum around the spongy slick head. It was a decent orgasm. He wanted another.

They retired to the hotel bed and Erik fucked her again in missionary, this time making sure to cum first. Linda's orgasms wiped her out and it took her time to snap back from her release. His second orgasm with her was so much better, the condom felt like it had more ejaculate in it than the amount he spewed on her stomach earlier.

She gave him a nice blowjob in the early morning before they had to leave the hotel. He found it interesting that she didn't like oral sex done to her. He tried to go down on her, but she admitted readily that it wasn't her thing. His curiosity compelled him to pester her about it until she explained.

"I just don't like it. I don't get pleasure from it. It doesn't excite me."

"Have you ever had one great session?"

"No."

"Really? Cuz I can eat some pussy—"

"Erik, I don't like doing it. Do you know how many men have told me they eat pussy well? It doesn't matter. I don't enjoy it, so I don't do it."

Her voice had a touch of petulance to it so he didn't push her further on it. It was just a rare thing for him to encounter.

They shared a friendly kiss when they separated at the airport. He almost felt bad that her first job with Klaue went well but she would be left hanging until he came out of hiding.

"Hopefully we will work together another time," she said. Eyes twinkling at him, she sounded sincere. Welcoming to anything more that could happen in the future. She knew her stuff and would come in handy when he decided to make that final move. He'd keep her name on the backburner. Klaue was stoked on her so Erik would see her again. She rubbed his arm and the non-sexual touch bothered him suddenly. He was going to fly into Turkey, change planes with Klaue's goods hidden in his computer bag, fly to Miami, and then hop a flight to the Virgin Islands. He didn't want to feel another woman's touch on him. Not now. His body was filled with strange jitters. He felt nervous. Perhaps it was a bad idea to mess with Linda. He needed to feel pure. Clean. And he didn't feel that way. He had killed four people while he was away from Yani and Sydette. He didn't want that energy around them.

When he landed in St. Thomas, his mood lifted tremendously. Whatever it was about this place, it made him feel lighter and unsullied when he rode the taxi to the compound.

Once his retina scan gained him complete access and control of the compound at the front gate, Erik stood in the main driveway for ten minutes with his belongings and Klaue's next to him. Three months. He had ninety days to experiment and watch the compound. That's all. Ninety days to be still when he wanted to be.

The sun warmed his body and he took off his shirt, letting the light and heat burn away the tension he carried in his body from being with Klaue. He was back in the same place as her. That girl was somewhere on that rock with her baby. Their baby.

He tilted his head back and let the light strike his closed eyelids until all he could see were visions of pure red.

Go to the beach.

He could cleanse his body in her seawater. Take a few days alone to settle himself.

Then and only then would he feel secure enough to face her once more.

###

Yani stared at the estimate on the piece of paper that the mechanic handed her.

"This much?" she said fretfully.

"I'm afraid so, Miss."

The mechanic, Petey, gave her a sympathetic look.

"Are there things you can hold off on doing right now?"

"I took off as much as I could already."

Sydette wiggled on the side of Yani's hip, the yellow and red beads in her hair pressed into Yani's shoulder.

"I'll have to come back," she said.

"I wouldn't wait too long to fix—"

Yani left the auto shop ignoring the rest of the mechanic's words.

She felt cheated.

Buying the little-used Subaru seemed like a great deal at the time. She finally had her own car, her own transportation, and things had been going well until she noticed the Subaru vibrating hard when she came to a stop sometimes. Then there were the transmission leaks, and the need to replace two balding tires. She took the car in and the diagnosis was a failing U-Joint. It would cost about five-hundred dollars for everything and a little more if they had to order and ship parts from the States. She couldn't afford all that now. She had just put aside hard-saved money for the deposit and first month's rent on a new apartment she was sharing with a fellow nursing student from the university. She and Marla were both single-mothers and decided to pool their resources and share childcare duties around their school schedules in the fall.

She texted Chez.

I coming by to pick up the baby's money.

As she drove into Red Hook, she prayed that he had all that he was supposed to give her. His portion of childcare funds would help her get through this crisis. She could dip frugally into her savings to cover the rest. The summer season at the restaurant was coming, so she could count on tips to help plump up her funds again soon.

Pulling up in front of Chez's house, she texted him again.

I'm here.

Come inside.

Bring me the money, I have to take the baby home.

I can't, I'm here with Star. Ursula is at work.

Bring her outside then.

She's sleep.

"Fucking annoying, man," she yelled at her cell.

Sydette babbled at her from the backseat.

"I know, I know…it's your little sister. I won't wake her up. Shit."

Yani unbuckled herself and then Sydette from her car seat and carried her to the front door.

"Detty!" Chez squealed holding his hands out for his daughter.

Yani let him take her and put her hands on her hips.

"Come in for a minute," he said.

"No."

"Let me have some time with her before you jet. Let her play with her sister—"

"You said she was asleep—"

"She was, but my ringtone woke her up. Ten minutes. Let the girls be together."

"I'll just go to the house and come back—"

"Don't waste gas. You here."

"If that bitch comes home, I don't want no problems—"

"She's not coming back until three. Trippin' all the time."

Yani stepped in and saw the chaos of their household. Clothes everywhere, adult clothes, and tons of toys. More than Sydette owned. The place stank of baby wipes, cheap perfume, and cigarettes. Shoes were everywhere unorganized. Chez's various trainers, flats and heels that belonged to Ursula. A whole two-bedroom house and no place to put things away properly? Pigs.

Chez made space for her on the hard couch that was all fashion and no comfort. It made Yani's ass hurt immediately.

Chez set Sweet Pea on a blanket on the floor, and their daughter sat there looking around confused. This wasn't Auntie's house. He ran into a bedroom and came back carrying his now nine-month-old. Wide-eyed, Star looked half-sleep and irritated, her thin hair plastered to her skull.

"Look whose here!" Chez said sticking Star into a walker where her legs dangled. Sydette looked at her sister, then stared back at Yani.

"Say hi to Star, Sweet Pea," Yani said.

"Mum," Sydette said. She stuck a finger in her mouth and then pointed at Star.

"Yes, that's Star."

Chez patted Sydette's hair beads. He walked back to the couch and sat down next to Yani. They both watched the girls.

"See, they get along good."

"If you say so," Yani said. The annoyance was back.

Sydette crawled over to a pile of wooden builder blocks and began playing with them. Star shook her body to try and move, and Yani cracked up with Chez. The baby looked hilarious flopping her arms and legs like someone electrocuted her. She was cute. Literally Chez in tiny light-skinned female form. The laughter left her when reality came back again. That was his cheat baby. The outside house child. The creation that tore apart their family.

It wasn't Star's fault, and Yani did her best to keep her hateful feelings toward Star's mother away from the baby itself.

Chez turned on the tv and found a toddler-friendly channel that caught both children's attention. Yani held her hand out.

Chez reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills.

"All good in the hood. I even got you two hundred extra this month," he said. She was relieved.

She reached for the money. He put it back in his pocket.

"Tell me about school. You all set?"

She rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, Chez. I have to go—"

"You can put your business on social media, but you can't talk to your baby's faddah about it? How that sound, Yani? Serious? I need to know what you are doing while you have my child, just like you get in all my business—"

"Chill, damn. I have my schedule ready for the first semester."

"You look excited."

"I am excited."

"Good. What are you taking?"

"Pathophysiology, Health Assessment, Intro to Nursing, and Communication for Health Professionals…yeah that's first semester."

She explained to him what the courses would entail and how she was excited about wearing a nurse's uniform. She excluded any mention of her new apartment and roommate. Yani didn't want him to know anything about that until school had started for her and she had a routine going that Sydette was comfortable with. She didn't need Chez rolling by checking on her and scaring the other woman.

Yani checked her cell.

"We need to go, Chez."

"I miss talking to you like this."

He glanced over at the girls. They seemed content. Star played with the noise-makers on her walker and Sydette had her hands clapping with Cookie Monster on Sesame Street. Star squealed and Sydette stared at her, reaching up and hitting one of the noise-makers herself. Star grabbed her fingers and Sydette squealed too, then looked over at them with a smile on her face.

"I want the girls to be together more. I want them to be close. No matter how much I messed up, they are still blood. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He pulled her money out again. She reached for it and he pulled his hand back.

"We can still be close too, gyal."

"No, we can't."

"I think we can."

She felt her skin crawl. Her belly clenched tight.

"What is this?" she asked. Her eyes went to Sydette.

"I give you something extra this month…you give me something a little extra. We stay real friendly."

Closing her eyes, Yani shook her head. She should've never come into the house.

His hand snaked over and rubbed her thigh. She kept still. Ran through options. Came up with none. She needed that money. She had to fix her car so that it was safe for her and her baby. She needed to have her own apartment so that she could be close to school and the inexpensive daycare she found. Her Aunt's house was too crowded, too loud, and too stressful for her and Sydette.

"What…what do you want me to do?"

"Everything you used to do," he said.

His eyes looked unbothered by the request. She leaned forward as he spread his legs, then snatched the money from his hand and stuffed it down her bra.

She jumped off the couch and hurried over to pick up Sydette.

"You are a piece of shit!" she screamed at him.

He sprang from his seat to catch her and she used her foot to push Star's walker, rolling the baby toward him.

"Kicking mi pickney?!"

"I didn't kick her!"

Her heart was in her throat when she rushed to the front door as Chez picked up Star.

"Bitch!"

She flipped him off and slammed the front door on her way out.

###

J'ouvert was not for the weak.

Yani was up at three in the morning doing her make-up for the breaking in of carnival season before daybreak. There would be a shit-ton of drinking and walking. And dancing. Playing Jab Jab with colored chalk and paints. And people-watching. She was going to meet her friend Kemba's co-worker who was single. Conrad. Two kids. A J'ouvert fete seemed the best occasion to meet and dump someone if there was no connection. Conrad's IG photos were cute, and they spoke a few times over the phone. He had liked a couple of her swimsuit photos and didn't act creepy about her posing on Junior's album compilation. Good job. Good teeth. Baby Mama lived in Orlando, Florida.

Yani watched Twyla throw a purple plastic shower cap on her head.

"Last year I thought that shit would wash out my hair easy without protection…nope!" Twyla said tucking loose locs under the cap.

Their cousins Cee Cee and Sonya wore black satin bonnets.

"You sure you want to leave your hair out? Some people were throwing colored paint like last year. That shit was thick and took too long to come off." Sonya said.

"What is a little colored paint or powder on a baldie, huh?" Yani said.

Sonya sucked her teeth, "Yuh brave cuz."

Yani adjusted her blue jean bootie shorts, tugged on the black fishnet stockings that pinched at her thighs, and admired her black sleeveless top with the silver lettering under her breasts: Cruzan Junction. Twyla's shirt said, 'Thirsty?'. Her other two extra-thick cousins had 'It's All Natural' on their shirts.

"Kendall really on the mobile stage?" Cee Cee asked lining her lips with a lip pencil and pushing Yani away from the bedroom wall mirror.

"You loud women woke the babies up," Leona said carrying Sonya's toddler son, Bam.

"Twyla's the one that's loud," Yani fussed shoving Cee Cee back over so she could check her eye make-up. She rubbed mica-infused lotion on her arms, neck, and face to make her skin sparkle like Killmonger's earrings once the sun rose up.

"It smells like liquor in here," Leona said.

Yani watched her cousin Sonya hide the big plastic cup of Henny she was already breaking in behind her back. Yani hid her drink in a yellow custom cup, pretending not to hear the liquor comment. Her hips were already revving up and Conrad texted her that he would meet her by the mobile music truck/stage.

Leona took Bam back to Sydette, and once she was gone, more Henny was poured into other hidden cups.

How she missed this time with her cousins preparing to fete. She had laid up in her bed with a tiny newborn Sydette the previous year watching the women prepare and she felt sad, tired, and out of place. But not this year. She was going to make her bumper roll, and if Conrad was choice, he would get her rump on his groin as she threw it in a circle.

Cee Cee pulled out a joint and Twyla snatched it stuffing it into her bra.

"Yuh, craze gyal? She right there in the next room!" Twyla hissed slapping Cee Cee's arm.

"You know Auntie did this in her day. She nuh always a saint."

"True!" Sonya clucked. They all giggled and sipped.

"Aw, damn!" Twyla said peeking out of their shared bedroom window.

"What?" Yani said coming up next to her.

It was sprinkling.

"It's not supposed to last long. On and off. But it'll help cool us down," Yani said.

"It'll be messy out there," Twyla said with a scowl.

"Messy is your middle name," Yani teased.

Twyla punched her.

"Ow, bitch. You always so rough!" Yani complained.

"Let's go!" Cee Cee cheered clapping her hands.

Moist air, a soft sprinkling of water dropping from the dark sky, Yani rode shotgun in Leona's car with the window down and her right arm hanging out feeling the air.

Cleansing.

That's how it felt riding with her family.

A stripping away of stress and worry. Freedom to dance in the streets as a Galiber Queen, long blood descendants of the first rebel Queen in their family, Queen Mary Thomas of St Croix.

Self-proclaimed royalty was still royalty and having Thomas blood in her veins garnered respect on the island to those who knew. Every girl born to them was a Queen, skipping Princess on mere principle. From St. Croix to Copenhagen, to St. Thomas, Mary's bloodline was kept alive.

"What you grinning for cuz?" Twyla asked, glancing at her as she drove toward Charlotte Amalie.

"Fireburn!" Yani shouted.

All of her cousins laughed.

"Fireburn!" Twyla yelled out of her open window.

"Respect," Yani said. She sipped more Henny from her cup, the burning of the liquor down her throat equal to the burning that lived in her DNA.

Her eyes appreciated the light rain. A cleansing. Water. And fire. And faith in her heart that all things came together for her good, a Galiber Queen.

###

Erik bought a Henny rum punch from the mobile bar with "V.I. Feters" spray-painted with pink, green, and purple letters over its white covered façade. Drinking that hard so early in the morning was a different kind of treat. He sported black trainers, black joggers, and a white tank, his body enjoying the itinerant sprinkles of rain as revelers partied hard. This J'ouvert thing was no joke. He had no problem mingling and dancing with the crowd.

The early morning darkness brought out the surreal beauty of the hills twinkling with house lights on looking like stars decorating the island. Stars and diamonds. The dancing crowd reminded him of Brazil and the times spent celebrating carnival there as a child and a young man. He gazed in wonder at all the different people dancing as individuals or as part of clubs wearing matching colored t-shirts, waving white towels or shirts, blowing whistles, and partying hard. The Black diaspora was the same everywhere they were in the world celebrating any type of bacchanal.

He was confused when he saw so many women wearing shower caps, and bonnets, but when colored chalk flew around him striking bodies with gleeful exuberance as the sky turned a brilliant purple, Erik figured out why the coverage was needed. Dark black and dark brown bodies decorated in pink, green, blue, purple, red and yellow colors smeared from the light sprinkling of rain looked wondrous and whimsical. The colors became more vibrant as the sun rose above them and the music became more infectious. Soca rhythms soaked the streets and rattled the mobile D.J. stage that most of the people followed like a huge New Orleans second line. Umbrellas included.

Erik tried to stay low key and not very close to the mobile stage. He had heard a radio broadcast mention Kendall's name, and he knew if the young rapper was there, Yani would possibly be there too, and he still wasn't ready to see her just yet. He followed the source music from a distance, sipped on his drink and flicked hands from grabbing him. The women were pretty aggressive, especially the white ones, and although he appreciated the variety of beauty and revealing shapes around him, he didn't want to be touched by strangers, didn't want to be rubbed upon while he walked and drank and shook his ass a little bit. He just wanted to observe. Marvel. Allow his drink to keep him comfortably buzzed.

The revelers became a little too dense when the mobile D.J. truck stopped. Erik slipped back near a light post to give himself room to breathe. The merrymakers surged around him anyway and a familiar face caught his eye. Her hips shook fast and she danced with a man with a t-shirt wrapped around his head.

Erik drifted away from the light post as a slender woman climbed up part of it to wiggle her backside suggestively to the crowd while wearing an outfit that was almost a bathing suit. He eased over to the woman he spotted that had his heart beating a little faster. He reached out and touched her hand and she jerked away from him, her eyes narrowed and her lips curled up in a challenge.

"Who this big nigga, yeah?" she said in a loud voice.

"Your name is Twyla, right?" he asked.

"Who you?" she said standing closer to him.

These Galiber women were fine as fuck and Erik saw men shaking hips and moving around them while sneaking looks at her tall amazon ass sprinkled from head to toe with colored chalk.

"I know your Aunt Leona and your cousin…Yani."

"How you know dem, Black?"

Twyla had her own red cup in her hand and guzzled down its contents. Her eyes took him in.

"Our Lady's Manor."

Her eyes did a slow pan of him from top to bottom.

"Ah, the bad man on the hill. You fuck up Chez, yeah?"

"Something like that."

"Why are you pestering me? Yani is around here somewhere—"

"I was just saying hi, that's all."

"Okay, hi. Now what?"

She made him smile.

"You cute bad man. Mi see why Auntie liked you so much. You not ugly like dem other ones."

The longer he stood talking to her, the more anxious he got. His nerves were spiking. Why did he actively talk to Twyla? Yani could probably spot him now. He needed to blend back into the sea of colored black bodies. He wasn't ready—

"Mi call her for you—"

"Nah, I'll find her eventually…"

He walked away from Twyla as she held her cell, making his escape toward the mobile bar that pulled up far behind the D.J. truck. Ordering straight up Hennessey he leaned against the side of the bar and took small sips of his drink. He felt weird. Off-balance. The push and pull of yearning to see her, but not wanting to see her was confusing. He was a grown-ass man who had faced shit in his life over the past two months that most people would never recover from in a lifetime, and yet there he stood hiding near a liquor stand afraid to see a woman. Him. The fuck?

On God—

His stomach dropped when he heard Yani's voice over the loudspeakers on the D.J. truck. She stood near the D.J. and Kendall on the portable stage. The mic was near her cheek and she talked to a man next to the D.J. who had switched the Soca beats to a grime sound that echoed around them all. It was a nice switch from the Soca and Reggae. Kendall's voice was picked up too and there seemed to be some confusion over another person being on the stage with them.

"Just start it and we'll figure it out," Yani mumbled.

Kendall took his own mic and faced the joyous fete crowd.

"This is for my Queens," Kendall said with a quiet storm drawl. It made Yani laugh and that sound made Erik shake his shoulders as if something light crawled across them.

Yani was covered in blue and pink chalk. Her bootie shorts accentuated the thickness of her lower half, and her black top was just titty spillage. Her short fade was no longer blonde, but platinum and somewhat straight.

"Queen Yani!"

Twyla shouted from the crowd to her cousin.

"Yes, yes, y'all, the Black Mermaid is here, Queen Yani, mi blood, mi Fam. We come from a long line of women rebels, seen? Yeah…tell 'em, Yani."

Yani lifted the mic to her lips and sang what sounded like a vengeful folk song.

"Queen Mary, ah where you gon' go burn?

Queen Mary, ah where you gon' go burn?

Don' ask me nothin' at all

Just get me the match and oil

Bassin Jailhouse, ah deh de money dey…"

Some of the revelers knew the words to Yani's a cappella performance and joined in until Kendall jumped on it.

"Where you gon' go burn, Queen? She gon' burn it all!" he yelled as a thunderous futuristic-sounding bass line slammed down and he shook his head in a wild frenzy to accompany the hard beats. Yani jumped up and down getting Kendall more hyped before she declared,

"And Queens don't vibe, hear me now…"

"With no fuck niggas!" the crowd responded back as Yani held the mic out to them.

The fete audience went buck, booties thrown in wild circles standing, and on the ground, backs arched deep, heads bobbing like marionettes being plucked by puppet master strings. It was just a cold as fuck live performance.

He couldn't get over how bold Yani was. That one line was the refrain throughout the entire song, the call and response from the crowd always the same. They finished and another boisterous Soca beat pumped up again and Erik watched Yani drop down from the truck into the arms of a man who pulled her into the melanated wave of people. The throng of bodies grew.

Yani danced with Twyla and her younger sister Anika who wore a pink tutu and carried a super soaker that sprayed blue colored water. Erik smiled when he saw Yani toss pink powder at her friends and sister with packets she held in their hands. The merriness was infectious and Erik wanted to join her, but there was pleasure in watching her be free. She bent over to allow Twyla to smack her butt and Anika shot a stream of blue onto her chest. Yani chased her tossing colored powder that flew over other people who also threw colors at everyone.

A few revelers, mainly males, asked to take pictures with her, probably fans of the album compilation. He didn't like how close most of them got to her, arms thrown around her shoulder or waist.

He lost track of her and drank a little more. It sprinkled again and he moved closer to an occupied bench and watched people jump on top of cars to dance, hang off of the D.J. stage to shake ass and grind on willing participants. He enjoyed the view of the waterfront and boats.

He thought about returning to the compound before the street party officially broke up to avoid gridlock. Perhaps get some sleep since the whole celebration started at four in the morning. A few women brushed up against him trying to entice him to dance but he wasn't feeling it. A frisky college-aged white woman standing up behind him on the bench tapped him and then wrapped her arms on his shoulders, her beer breath odor strong as she tried to rock with his body to the music.

"Nah. Let's not," he said when he turned back to make sure she knew he wasn't having it.

"You're not all that," she snapped.

"Yeah, okay," he replied turning from her and enjoying the last of his drink.

She kept bumping into him from dancing and he stepped a couple of inches away from her so he could keep his spot and not be bothered. He tossed his empty cup into the trashcan next to the mobile bar and saw that the D.J. truck was moving along with Kendall still bouncing to the music.

The bitch's hands came down on him again and his anger flared up white-hot.

"I told you once already—"

Lips on his neck.

The alluring scent of vanilla and nutmeg and fresh rain on soft brown skin.

He froze and his eyelids shut.

Sliding his hands up to caress the arms that held him, a shuddery breath left his chest and made his throat tight.

He spun around and she stood on the small bench a little above eye level with him.

Yani.

Her bewitching eyes connected with his and her inviting smile centered him. Wrapping his arms around her painted waist, he pressed his forehead into hers.

"Killmonger, why are you shaking? I scare you?"

Yes.

###

Part 10

Previous Chapters Here

Tag List:

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#wet sugar #killmonger #erik stevens #n'jadaka #klaue #black panther fanfiction #killmonger smut #black panther smut

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kennamchugh · 2 years ago

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"The Covenant" Trailer, Images and Poster

Set in war-torn Afghanistan in 2018, Guy Richie directs The Covenant. The film follows U.S. Army Special Forces Sergeant John Kinley, played by Gyllenhaal. Kinley leads an elite unit tasked with finding Taliban munitions. “He has been deployed numerous times and has a tremendous amount of experience. He has relied on many different Afghan interpreters and has found himself in many different…

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#guy ritchie #Jake Gyllenhaal

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alaminshorkar76 · 3 years ago

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#IFTTT #Blogger

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chubbycaucasianchristiancloseted · 3 years ago

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What do you think the Taliban has done to our Afghan allies?

What do you think the Taliban has done to our Afghan allies? Have they been given “free passage”(Blinken)? The New York Times estimated as high as a million allies left behind in August of 2021 and still Tens of thousands now. These people have been living in fear for over a year! They live like prisoners with no food, waiting for night to come out of hiding.

To make things even better the Biden administration has admitted most Afghans already in the states on humanitarian parole, meaning they can only stay for two years. These Afghans have applied for asylum BUT are on a huge backlog because of the other hundreds of thousands of immigrants seeking asylum. You think the backlog is due to our Southern Boarder? Why would any other country ever help us again?

Direct Quotes:

One year has now passed since former Army Capt. Jeﬀ Trammell began exchanging text messages in the middle of the night with his one-time Afghan interpreter, desperate to get him and his family on one of the last ﬂights out of Kabul as the U.S. withdrew and the Taliban took control of the country.

But tens of thousands who wanted to leave were left behind. Trammell’s interpreter is still in hiding, too afraid to step outside for fear he and his family will be found and executed by the Taliban.

“After Americans left Afghanistan, I passed one year of my life like a prisoner. No work, no food,” Trammell’s interpreter told NBC News. At night, the family goes to their rooftop to get their only breath of fresh air for the day, he said.

For Afghans who helped American forces but were left behind after the U.S. evacuation, the past year has been marked by fear, hiding and frustration as prospects of securing a visa, let alone a flight out, have dwindled.

The Biden administration admitted most evacuees on humanitarian parole, which allows for a two-year residency and work authorization.

Though Afghans in the U.S. can apply for asylum, which would give them a pathway to permanent legal status, they face a backlog of hundreds of thousands of cases from other immigrants seeking asylum.

Back in Afghanistan, those still seeking to come to the U.S. are largely being denied humanitarian parole by USCIS, which has stipulated that applicants must prove they would be targeted with violence if they stay in the Taliban controlled country. As of June, 93 percent of Afghans still in the country who sought humanitarian parole had been denied, according to USCIS data.

#USA #TheChubbyCaucasianChristianClosetedConservative #LetsGoBrandon #Taliban #PrayforAfghanistan

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newstfionline · 4 years ago

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Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Fire Season Comes Early To California (CNN) Fire weather is coming early to California this year. For the first time since 2014, parts of Northern California are seeing a May “red flag” fire warning due to dry and windy conditions. The warning coverage area extends from Redding in the north to Modesto in the south, and includes portions of the Central Valley and the state capital of Sacramento. The warning also extends to the eastern edges of the Bay Area. A brush fire that started Friday in Pacific Palisades flared up Saturday due to gusty winds, burning more than 1,300 acres and threatening homes in Topanga Canyon. Topanga State Park in the Santa Monica Mountains is about 20 miles west of downtown Los Angeles. The Palisades fire caused about 1,000 people to be evacuated from their homes early Sunday, with other residents on standby to leave.

Pandemic Refugees at the Border (NYT) The Biden administration continues to grapple with swelling numbers of migrants along the southwestern border. Most of them are from Central America, fleeing gang violence and natural disasters. But the past few months have also brought a much different wave of migration that the Biden administration was not prepared to address: pandemic refugees. They are people arriving in ever greater numbers from far-flung countries where the coronavirus has caused unimaginable levels of illness and death and decimated economies and livelihoods. If eking out an existence was challenging in such countries before, in many of them it has now become almost impossible. According to official data released this week, 30 percent of all families encountered along the border in April hailed from countries other than Mexico and the Central American countries of Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador, compared to just 7.5 percent in April 2019, during the last border surge. The coronavirus pandemic has had far-reaching consequences for the global economy, erasing hundreds of millions of jobs. And it has disproportionately affected developing countries, where it could set back decades of progress, according to economists. About 13,000 migrants have landed in Italy, the gateway to Europe, so far this year, three times as many as in the same period last year. At the U.S.-Mexico border in recent months, agents have stopped people from more than 160 countries, and the geography coincides with the path of the virus’s worst devastation.

The U.S. conversation on Israel is changing, no matter Biden’s stance (Washington Post) In Washington, support for the Palestinian plight is getting louder in Congress. On Friday, Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) wrote a widely circulated New York Times op-ed pulling the spotlight away from Hamas’s provocations to the deeper reality of life for millions of Palestinians living under blockade and occupation. He pointed to the havoc unleashed in recent weeks by rampaging mobs of Jewish extremists in Jerusalem, as well as the questionable Israeli legal attempts to forcibly evict the Palestinian residents of a neighborhood in the contested holy city. “None of this excuses the attacks by Hamas, which were an attempt to exploit the unrest in Jerusalem, or the failures of the corrupt and ineffective Palestinian Authority, which recently postponed long-overdue elections,” Sanders wrote. “But the fact of the matter is that Israel remains the one sovereign authority in the land of Israel and Palestine, and rather than preparing for peace and justice, it has been entrenching its unequal and undemocratic control.” In another era, Sanders would have cut a lonely figure among his colleagues. But he is not alone. A number of Democratic lawmakers, including solidly pro-Israel politicians, issued statements indicating their displeasure with the casualties caused by Israel’s attacks in Gaza. Others were more vocal, accusing Israel of “apartheid.” Alexandria Ocasio Cortez (D-NY) tweeted: “This is happening with the support of the United States....the US vetoed the UN call for a ceasefire. If the Biden admin can’t stand up to an ally, who can it stand up to? How can they credibly claim to stand for human rights?” Jeremy Ben-Ami, president of J Street, a center-left pro-Israel advocacy organization that increasingly reflects the mainstream position of American liberals, said in a briefing with reporters last week that the “diplomatic blank check to the state of Israel” given out by successive U.S. administrations has meant that “Israel has no incentive to end occupation and find a solution to the conflict.”

Mexico City is sinking (Wired) When Darío Solano‐Rojas moved from his hometown of Cuernavaca to Mexico City to study at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, the layout of the metropolis confused him. “What surprised me was that everything was kind of twisted and tilted,” says Solano‐Rojas. “At that time, I didn't know what it was about. I just thought, ‘Oh, well, the city is so much different than my hometown.’” Different, it turned out, in a bad way. Picking up the study of geology at the university, Solano‐Rojas met geophysicist Enrique Cabral-Cano, who was actually researching the surprising reason for that infrastructural chaos: The city was sinking—big time. It’s the result of a geological phenomenon called subsidence, which usually happens when too much water is drawn from underground, and the land above begins to compact. According to new modeling by the two researchers and their colleagues, parts of the city are sinking as much as 20 inches a year. In the next century and a half, they calculate, areas could drop by as much as 65 feet. Spots just outside Mexico City proper could sink 100 feet. That twisting and tilting Solano‐Rojas noticed was just the start of a slow-motion crisis for 9.2 million people in the fastest-sinking city on Earth. And because some parts are slumping dramatically and others aren’t, the infrastructure that spans the two zones is sinking in some areas but staying at the same elevation in others. And that threatens to break roads, metro networks, and sewer systems. “Subsistence by itself may not be a terrible issue,” says Cabral-Cano. “But it's the difference in this subsistence velocity that really puts all civil structures under different stresses.”

Today’s the day: British holidaymakers return to Portugal as travel ban ends (Reuters) Sun-hungry British visitors descended on Portuguese beaches once again on Monday as a four-month long ban on travel between the two countries due to the COVID-19 pandemic ended, in a much-needed boost for the struggling tourism sector. Twenty-two flights from Britain are due to land in Portugal on Monday, with most heading to the southern Algarve region, famous for its beaches and golf courses but nearly deserted as the pandemic kept tourists away. Visitors from Britain must present evidence of a negative coronavirus test taken 72 hours before boarding their flights to Portugal and there is no need to quarantine for COVID-19 when returning home. Back at home, most British people will be free once again to hug, albeit cautiously, drink a pint in their pub, sit down to an indoor meal or visit the cinema after the ending of a series of lockdowns that imposed the strictest ever restrictions in peacetime.

Afghans who helped the US now fear being left behind (AP) He served as an interpreter alongside U.S. soldiers on hundreds of patrols and dozens of firefights in eastern Afghanistan, earning a glowing letter of recommendation from an American platoon commander and a medal of commendation. Still, Ayazudin Hilal was turned down when he applied for one of the scarce special visas that would allow him to relocate to the U.S. with his family. Now, as American and NATO forces prepare to leave the country, he and thousands of others who aided the war effort fear they will be left stranded, facing the prospect of Taliban reprisals. “We are not safe,” the 41-year-old father of six said of Afghan civilians who worked for the U.S. or NATO. “The Taliban is calling us and telling us, ‘Your stepbrother is leaving the country soon, and we will kill all of you guys.’” At least 300 interpreters have been killed in Afghanistan since 2016, and the Taliban have made it clear they will continue to be targeted, said Matt Zeller, a co-founder of No One Left Behind, an organization that advocates on their behalf. He also served in the country as an Army officer. “The Taliban considers them to be literally enemies of Islam,” said Zeller, now a fellow at the Truman National Security Project. “There’s no mercy for them.”

A Desperate India Falls Prey to Covid Scammers (NYT) Within the world’s worst coronavirus outbreak, few treasures are more coveted than an empty oxygen canister. India’s hospitals desperately need the metal cylinders to store and transport the lifesaving gas as patients across the country gasp for breath. So a local charity reacted with outrage when one supplier more than doubled the price, to nearly $200 each. The charity called the police, who discovered what could be one of the most brazen, dangerous scams in a country awash with coronavirus-related fraud and black-market profiteering. The police say the supplier—a business called Varsha Engineering, essentially a scrapyard—had been repainting fire extinguishers and selling them as oxygen canisters. The consequences could be deadly: The less-sturdy fire extinguishers might explode if filled with high-pressure oxygen. A coronavirus second wave has devastated India’s medical system. Hospitals are full. Drugs, vaccines, oxygen and other supplies are running out. Pandemic profiteers are filling the gap. In many cases, the sellers prey on the desperation and grief of families.

Full-blown boycott pushed for Beijing Olympics (AP) Groups alleging human-rights abuses against minorities in China are calling for a full-blown boycott of the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, a move likely to ratchet up pressure on the International Olympic Committee, athletes, sponsors and sports federations. A coalition representing Uyghurs, Tibetans, residents of Hong Kong and others issued a statement Monday calling for the boycott, eschewing lesser measures that had been floated like “diplomatic boycotts” and further negotiations with the IOC or China. “The time for talking with the IOC is over,” Lhadon Tethong of the Tibet Action Institute said in an exclusive interview with The Associated Press. “This cannot be games as usual or business as usual; not for the IOC and not for the international community.” The push for a boycott comes a day before a joint hearing in the U.S. Congress focusing on the Beijing Olympics and China’s human-rights record, and just days after the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee said boycotts are ineffective and only hurt athletes.

Grief Mounts as Efforts to Ease Israel-Hamas Fight Falter (NYT) Diplomats and international leaders were unable Sunday to mediate a cease-fire in the latest conflict between Israel and Hamas, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel vowed to continue the fight and the United Nations Security Council failed to agree on a joint response to the worsening bloodshed. The diplomatic wrangling occurred after the fighting, the most intense seen in Gaza and Israel for seven years, entered its deadliest phase yet. At least 42 Palestinians were killed early Sunday morning in an airstrike on several apartments in Gaza City, Palestinian officials said, the conflict’s most lethal episode so far. The number of people in killed in Gaza rose to 197 over the seven days of the conflict, according to Palestinian officials, while the number of Israeli residents killed by Palestinian militants climbed to 11, including one soldier, the Israeli government said.

Israel, Hamas trade fire in Gaza as war rages on (AP) Israel carried out a wave of airstrikes on what it said were militant targets in Gaza, leveling a six-story building, and militants fired dozens of rockets into Israel on Tuesday. Palestinians across the region observed a general strike as the war, now in its second week, showed no signs of abating. The strikes toppled a building that housed libraries and educational centers belonging to the Islamic University. Residents sifted through the rubble, searching for their belongings.

Israel’s aftermath (Foreign Policy) In Israel, the aftermath of days of violence in mixed Arab-Israeli towns has led to a one-sided reaction from state prosecutors: Of the 116 indictments served so far against those arrested last week, all have been against Arab-Israeli citizens, Haaretz reports. Meanwhile, Yair Lapid, whose centrist Yesh Atid party’s chances of forming a coalition government has crumbled since the violence broke out, placed the blame on Netanyahu. If he was in charge, Lapid said on Sunday, no one would have to question “why the fire always breaks out precisely when it’s most convenient for the prime minister.”

Long working hours can be a killer, WHO study shows (Reuters) Working long hours is killing hundreds of thousands of people a year in a worsening trend that may accelerate further due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the World Health Organization said on Monday. In the first global study of the loss of life associated with longer working hours, the paper in the journal Environment International showed that 745,000 people died from stroke and heart disease associated with long working hours in 2016. That was an increase of nearly 30% from 2000. “Working 55 hours or more per week is a serious health hazard,” said Maria Neira, director of the WHO’s Department of Environment, Climate Change and Health. The joint study, produced by the WHO and the International Labour Organization, showed that most victims (72%) were men and were middle-aged or older. Often, the deaths occurred much later in life, sometimes decades later, than the shifts worked. It also showed that people living in Southeast Asia and the Western Pacific region were the most affected.

#headlines #news

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